A quick narrative. I always wanted a hopped up muscle car when I was younger. I couldnt afford one. Now I can, and I have one. It is a 70 Mustang, and her name is Bessie. Bessie is the prototypical juvenile, male-caveman, scratch your crotch and drink cheap beer car. Chromed engine, dual exhaust, 250 horsepower, big tires, tra la la la.
Im driving Bessie on Beach Boulevard behind an ancient guy in a beat up truck. He decides to turn in front of me without a blinker. I accelerate to swerve and avoid him, and this assh*le, overaerobicized woman jumps in front of my car with her hand up.
Meet Ethel, the neighborhood busybody/nuisance. She proceeds to yell in my window, Hey, slow down you %$&#@ idiot. Im a well-bred, mellow guy by nature, so I ignore this. As I drive away, she yells, assh*le at me again. Twice? *&%$# that. I turn around and drive up next to her.
Do you have a problem? I ask.
Yeah, why are you driving like an idiot?
I was driving like an idiot? How, exactly?
You were speeding. I watched you. You were? I see. How did you measure my speed? (Ever the interrogator, I am.)
I heard you.
So, you measured my speed by ear?
I can hear.
How fast did you HEAR me going?
Look, she says, I dont have to take this. Here comes a cop. Ill wave him down.
THE POLICE? This woman is a trip. She waves him down, and proceeds to tell him that she observed me speeding.
What happened? he asks. I told him the story, and told him that I accelerated to an indicated 30 mph (the speed limit is 50) to avoid a collision.
Are those mufflers legal? Ethel asks.
Shes pushing it. I reply, I have a C.A.R.B. exemption for them. I give the paperwork to the cop.
She tries to find another thing to screw me with. She says What about those big tires? They CANT be legal. I began feeling little overheated gears in the back of my head start to turn.
These tires were available on the 1970 Boss 429, I told the cop, Which makes them street legal as a replacement.
Ethel gets angry. She whines, So youre not going to give out any tickets to this assh*le?
The cop says, No, I am not.
Ive about had it. So I say, Sir, this woman told you that she left the street at the corner, and then she met up with my car here. According to Title 19, pedestrians have to cross the street at a right angle. This woman admitted she crossed at a 45-degree angle, which is a ticketable offense.
What? The cop looks confused.
Also, she told you that she walked in front of my car to stop me. A citizen cant detain someone without probable cause, under Terry v. Ohio (My new favorite case). Since she couldnt measure my speed, she had no probable cause to detain me. That is an indictable offense.
The cop says, But, I didnt see any of this.
But, I said, I did, and, as an officer of the Court, I can demand her arrest. Ill agree to dismiss the Illegal Detention charge, but I want her cited for not crossing at a right angle and Hazardous Conduct on a Public Street.
The cop called his Lieutenant, and after the cop told the story, he authorized the summonses.
She went home with $215.00 worth of traffic tickets, and they are worth a total of four points against her license, as well as the appropriate insurance surcharge!
Of course, if she demands a trial I wont prosecute. But the look on her face as she walked away was more than enough satisfaction for me.
Yeah, Ive passed the bar, and Im on a mission from God.
A psychiatrist visited a California mental institution and asked a patient, How did you get here? What was the nature of your illness? He got the following reply.
Well, it all started when I got married and I guess I should never have done it. I married a widow with a grown daughter who then became my stepdaughter.
My dad came to visit us, fell in love with my lovely stepdaughter, then married her. And so my stepdaughter was now my stepmother. Soon, my wife had a son who was, of course, my daddys brother-in-law since he is the half-brother of my stepdaughter, who is now, of course, my daddys wife.
So, as I told you, when my stepdaughter married my daddy, she was at once my stepmother! Now, since my new son is brother to my stepmother, he also became my uncle. As you know, my wife is my step-grandmother since she is my stepmothers mother. Dont forget that my stepmother is my stepdaughter. Remember, too, that I am my wifes grandson.
But hold on just a few minutes more. You see, since Im married to my step-grandmother, I am not only the wifes grandson and her hubby, but I am also my own grandfather. Now can you understand how I got put in this place?
After staring blanky with a dizzy look on his face, the psychiatrist replied: Move over!
Canada Bill Joness Motto: It is morally wrong to allow suckers to keep their money.
All things being equal, all things are never equal.
Money is better than poverty, if only for financial reasons.
It was a few days before Christmas. The trip went reasonably well, and he was ready to go back home. The airport on the other end had turned a tacky red and green, and loudspeakers blared annoying elevator renditions of cherished Christmas carols.
Being someone who took Christmas very seriously, and being slightly tired, he was not in a particularly good mood. (Almost a scrooge) Going to check in his luggage (which, for some reason, had become one suitcase with entirely new clothes), he saw hanging mistletoe. Not real mistletoe, but very cheap plastic with red paint on some of the rounder parts and green paint on some of the flatter and pointer parts, that could be taken for mistletoe only in a very Picasso sort of way.
With a considerable degree of irritation and nowhere else to vent it, he said to the attendant, Even if we were married, I would not want to kiss you under such a ghastly mockery of mistletoe.
Sir, look more closely at where the mistletoe is.
Ok, I see that its above the luggage scale which is the place youd have to step forward for a kiss.
Thats not why its there.
Ok, I give up. Why is it there?
Its there so you can kiss your luggage good-bye.
A man asked his wife what shed like for her birthday. Id love to be six again, she replied. On the morning of her birthday, he got her up bright
and early and off they went to a local theme park.What a day! He put her on every ride in the park: the Death Slide, the Screaming Loop, the Wall of
Fear everything there was! Wow! Five hours later she staggered out of the theme park, her head reeling and her stomach upside down. Right to a McDonalds they went, where her husband ordered her a Big Mac along with extra fries and a refreshing chocolate shake. Then, it was off to a movie – the latest sci-fi epic, and hot dogs, popcorn, Pepsi Cola and M&Ms. What a
fabulous adventure! Finally, she wobbled home with her husband and collapsed into bed. He leaned over and lovingly asked, Well, dear, what was it like being six again? One eye opened. You idiot, I meant my dress size.The moral of this story is: If a woman speaks and a man is actually listening, he will still get it wrong.
A panda walks into a bar, sits down and orders a sandwich.
He eats the sandwich, pulls out a gun and shoots the waiter dead.
As the panda stands up to go, the bartender shouts, Hey! Where are you going? You just shot my waiter and you didnt pay for your sandwich!
The panda yells back at the bartender, Hey man, Im a PANDA! Look it up!
The bartender opens his dictionary and sees the following definition for panda: A tree dwelling marsupial of Asian origin, characterized by distinct black and white coloring. Eats shoots and leaves.
If your wife asks you to get some groceries, and you put on camoflage and grab a shotgun, you might be a redneck.
You might be a redneck if…
You actually made a pyramid of cans in the pale moonlight with Alan Jackson.