Fw: Thursday from Ragtime Bill

[John Ross]

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Camping

A loaded mini van pulled in to the only remaining campsite. Four children leaped from the vehicle and began feverishly unloading gear and setting up the tent. The boys rushed to gather firewood, while the girls and their mother set up the camp stove and cooking utensils.

A nearby camper marveled to the youngsters' father, "That, sir, is some display of teamwork."

The father replied, "I have a system; no one goes to the bathroom until the camp is set up."

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Bar-B-Q

It's the only type of cooking a "real" man will do. When a man volunteers to do such cooking, the following chain of events is put into motion.

 (1) The woman goes to the store.

 (2) The woman "fixes" the salad, vegetables, and dessert.

 (3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils, and takes it to the man, who is lounging beside the grill.

 (4) The man places the meat on the grill.

 (5) The woman goes inside to set the table and check the vegetables.

 (6) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning.

 (7) The man takes the meat off the grill and hands it to the woman.

 (8) The woman prepares the plates and brings them to the table.

 (9) After eating, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.

(10) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed "her night off." And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women.

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Carletta shares this one:

IF MY BODY WERE A CAR 

If my body were a car, this is the time I would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model.

I've got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish and my paint job is getting a little dull, but that's not the worst of it.

My fenders are too wide to be considered stylish. They were once as sleek as a little MG.  Now they look more like my mother's old Buick.

My seat cushions have split open at the seams.

My seats are sagging.

Seat belts?  I gave up all belts when Ben & Jerry's opened a shop in my neighborhood.

Air bags?  Forget it. The only bags I have these days are under my eyes.  Not counting the saddlebags, of course.

I have soooooo many miles on my odometer.

Sure, I've been many places and seen many things, but when's the last time an appraiser factored life experiences against depreciation?

My headlights are out of focus and it's especially hard to see things up close.

My reaction is not as graceful as it once was.  I slip and slide and skid and bump into things even in the best of weather.

My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins.

It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed.

I'm burning fuel at an inefficient rate.

But here's the worst of it!  Almost every time I sneeze or cough, my radiator seems to leak.

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And finally,

Career Aspirations

An applicant was being interviewed for admission to a prominent medical school. "Tell me," inquired the interviewer, "where do you expect to be five years from now?"

"Well, let's see," replied the applicant. "It's Wednesday afternoon. I guess I'll be on the golf course by now."




-$3 ("Only one man in a thousand is a leader of men; the other 999 follow women." -- Groucho Marx)

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