Monday, March 30, 2009

Don't ask a retiree a dumb question ...

A note from my retired father:

The next time someone asks you a dumb question wouldn't you like to respond like this?

Yesterday I was at my local Wal-Mart buying a large bag of Iams Dog Food for our loyal pet, Riley, the Wonder Dog and was in the checkout line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

What did she think I had, an elephant?

So since I'm retired and have little to do, on impulse I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, I was starting the "Iams Diet" again.

I added that I probably shouldn't, because I ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms. I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Iams nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry.

The food is nutritionally complete so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me.

I told her no, I stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter's ass and a car hit us both.

I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack, he was laughing so hard. Wal-Mart won't let me shop there anymore.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Country Music Sucks

My country music-loving Dad dragged me to 3 Willie Nelson, 2 Alabama and 1 Reba Mackentire (sic) as a kid. I hated every minute of it and was convinced by the age of 15 that all country music fans were confederate soldiers just waiting for reinforcements.

There is a world of a difference between the Dixie Chicks, who sing, "She needs WAHDE OPEN SPA-CES" and a badass like Johnny Cash, who croons, "I once shot a man dead just to watch him die." The Dixie chicks are like your mom's shiny new Mazda Miata, while Cash (who, after countless illnesses, cancers and bullets lodged in his body just won't fucking die) is like a '53 Caddy that sputters orange/brown exhaust and makes a whole lot of fucking noise.

The ultimate country song has been described as having the following elements: Momma, prison, and getting drunk. Hence:

"So I was drunk the day my mommy got out of prison..."