The Third Plank

I first told this story to some friends I knew for a short period of time many decades ago. I really don't mean to make too light of the subject matter, but they thought it was quite funny. Then again, they were a captive audience.

Since before I could even grow stubble

My drinking has got me in trouble

But the worst that it got

Might be when I was caught

In my car after drinking a double (or six)

First the cops put me under arrest

Then the judge wasn’t very impressed

Though he granted me bail

He said “You’ll go to jail

If you fail to perform on my test”

Then he said “Booze imbibing’s a bane

And I think the whole world should abstain

So return here, young man

In a week with a plan

So you won’t stand before me again”

I said “Thank you your worship, your grace”

Hurried home to consider my case

Then went back in a week

And proceeded to speak

Of the plan that I’d put into place

I said “Judge, I knew just what to do

First, I scissored my licence in two”

But the judge, somewhat gruff

Said “That isn’t enough

And I hope for your sake you’re not through”

“No your honor”, I said with some pluck

“By itself, I agree, that would suck

But my plan is to walk

So I hope you don't balk

When I tell you I peddled my truck”

Then the judge looked at me quite unkind

Like he thought I was out of my mind

He said "Sonny I think

You'll still drive when you drink

So it’s off to the clink and you’re fined"

I begged “Judge, ‘fore I go to the can

I implore you, I’m now a new man

First my license is gone

Then my truck is in pawn

And I've still got a plank in my plan

On those nights when I'm tipping the jar

I no longer will have to go far

I'll just drink where I'm at

‘Cuz I gave up my flat

And I took a room over the bar”

The Witnesses

I told this story, a couple of years ago, when I was teaching an Introduction to Computing course. My intent was to demonstrate the pitfalls of multi-tasking. It also, sort of, has a little fun at the expense of Jehovah's Witnesses.  How was I to know that my class included half a dozen members of the local Kingdom Hall. I was a little embarrassed, but they were good sports about it. Here it is, translated into verse form.

Kith and Kin here’s a day in the life

Of an overwrought mother and wife

Though the tale I will mete

In a regular beat

Mine’s a moral where chaos is rife

I awoke; it was seven-fifteen

Tried to dress but no undies were clean

So, I stripped to the buff

Gathered clothes in a huff

Trundled down to the washing machine

As a mother I’ve learned how to cope

And I seldom will snivel, or mope

So I took it in stride

(Okay, maybe I sighed)

When I found we were fresh out of soap

Then I heard the most god-awful noise

Like the crashing of dishes and toys

I went running upstairs

Midst the yelling and glares

Of my ten year old twin little boys

I asked “Why must you act like baboons?”

As I set out the bowls and the spoons

Then the hubby yelled “Dear,

What’s that racket I hear?”

All this week he was on afternoons

To the bedroom I flew “Hon, don’t fuss”

“It’s not something we need to discuss”

I said “Kids! Now I’m mad

You just woke up your dad”

But they’d already left for the bus

So I started to work at the sink

Plan my day, take a moment to think

When the telephone rang

To the office I sprang

On the line it was MasterCard Inc.

Well, those guys make me green at the gills

So I sat down to work on the bills

But then something occurred

It was something I heard

 From the kitchen; it gave me the chills

See, the sink overflowed on the floor

Then a ding-dong; who’s that at the door

As I shut of the tap

I was thinking “Oh crap”

What fresh hell could this day have in store

On the stoop were those people you dread

Saving souls for the rapture ahead

When I heard them both say

“How ya doin’ today”

I composed myself first, then I said

“The laundry’s been washed without soap

With my credit card debt I can’t cope

I’ve got more than a hunch

That my kids have no lunch

And I’ve flooded the house, like a dope

But if that’s not enough I’ll attest

That the last has been saved for the best

For I just realized

Cuz you seem so surprised
That I haven’t found time to get dressed!”

Paying it Forward

I heard this shaggy dog story a few years ago. At that time, it was attributed to Jimmy Pattison, a notorious Canadian one-percenter. I don't know if that part is true. The rest, of course is.

Years ago I was down on my luck

Out of work, I would sleep in my truck

And I often would curse

“Things can’t get any worse!”

‘Til the sole of my shoe came unstuck

When I walked it went “Flippity-Flop”

So I stopped at the shoe repair shop

But the cobbler was brash

And he said “Without cash

I suggest that you skip and you hop”

It was later that day, I recall

On my way to the hiring hall

My old shoe caught a crack

And I fell on my back

There I sat and I started to bawl

But a limo pulled up in the street

A tycoon helped me get to my feet

Then he pulled out a roll

That could choke any foal

Rubber banded to keep it all neat

He said “Son, I was once just like you,

And this might be the least I can do”

He then peeled off the band

Pressed it into my hand

Saying “This ought to bind up your shoe”

DYAC

Auto correct errors are now accepted as part of modern communication. Fat fingers and tiny keys can lead to hilarious and sometimes awkward exchanges. Here’s one fictional example. You can tell it’s fictional, because neither of my daughters would use the word ‘rad’.

The texts from my daughter are rife

With ways auto-correct causes strife

Once she typed in “Dear Dad,

You’re so totally rad!”

But it came out “You’ve ruined my Life #@!”

Chaste Chicks

The grand kids wanted to hear a story, so I told them this one ...

Chaste Chicks

by Rick Lime

Gather round if you’ve nothing to do

I’ve a story that’s stranger than true

It’s a shaggy dog tale

Guaranteed not to fail

With a moral on which you can chew

Years ago we were driving around

From the rear I could hear an odd sound

So, I slowed down a crack

And I looked out the back

What comes next will amaze and astound

In the rear-view I stared in the face

Of a chicken who quickened her pace

When she opened her stride

And came up along side

I could tell that she wanted a race

Then she pulled out in front. What a bird!

Still, I know what you think “How absurd!”

You may scoff if you must

But we’ere left in the dust

And I floored it, I give you my word.

Up ahead, we could see where she turned

And some answers I thought we had earned

So I stopped and appealed 

To a man in his field

As I spoke to him, here’s what we learned

The farm was called “Betty & Greg’s”

They raised chickens from GMO eggs

When I blurted, aghast,

“They’re incredibly fast”

He responded “They all have three legs!”

“That explains it”, I heard myself say

I was still somewhat puzzled, but hey,

After what he just said

I would ask him instead

Why they chose to raise chickens that way

“There’s the boy and his mother” says he

“Right away, if you count it, we’re three”

He went on with a snort

“That’s a chicken leg short

‘Cuz we all want a drumstick, you see?”

What I asked then was “How did they taste

On a dinner plate, gravied and graced”

He replied, “I regret,

We’ve not caught any yet

Though there’s many a chick whose been chased.”

He should have told Friday

He should have told Friday

by Rick Lime

For several years, maybe more

Robin Crusoe at night would implore

“Please god send me a date”

Then by luck or by fate

Halle Berry got washed up onshore

So, he rescued her out of the swell

And soon deep into love they both fell

Then one day Crusoe said

"May I please call you Ted

Maybe cut your hair shorter as well?"

Next evening while dinner was stewing

They walked down the beach two by two-ing

He took her aside

And he whispered with pride

“Ted, you’ll never believe who I’m doing”