I remember sitting around a table with a few of my friends who were also restaurant owners, cracking jokes about each other’s places.
“Vinnie’s place is so old, he just gave the monks he uses to copy the menus a five cent raise.”
“Benny’s so cheap, he won’t pay to buy new stone tablets to chisel new menus on… he makes them hammer in the changes on the back.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I hear Artie over there’s such a tightwad, he won’t pay to paint the cave he’s in.”
I just laughed, and wondered when my chef would discover fire.
Tag: silly
Potluck
It’s the holidays, but when you’re “essential staff” where I work, you don’t get those off.
Instead, you’re required to burn a paid day off or come in, which sucks, even when you get double pittance (oops, I mean double pay) for doing so.
So, we have potluck lunches, and everybody’s supposed to bring in a dish.
Nobody signed up, though, so the night before, management announced that participation was now mandatory.
Whatever, grumbled the team.
The next day, the break room was stacked high with the twenty last-minute tubs of potato salad they’d bought.
Who wants to order pizza?
Smash And Grab
My car was broken into.
Someone smashed the window and grabbed my backgammon set.
Why? It was only ten bucks at Wal-Mart. And they left my GPS, which is worth way more.
I mean, I understand leaving the radio. That’s bolted, secured, and a pain to steal. But taking a cheap backgammon case? Crazy.
The insurance company wants a police report. The police are busy and say “Use the app.”
I snap some photos, tap in a form, and email them.
A repair truck is dispatched. They fix the window and hand me a receipt.
I play backgammon online now.
Drug Problem
Two tablets of worry, chewable.
One tablet of fear, swallowed whole. If you feel light-headed, do not operate heavy machinery or operate a motor vehicle.
Three capsules of lust, taken with milk or mashed up in applesauce.
One tube of hunger, to be smeared on the thighs daily and allowed to dry before dressing.
Two drops of envy, one for each eye. May cause temporary blindness. If condition persists for more than four hours, purchase a dog and a cane.
And finally, one shot of…
What? You’re afraid of needles?
Shit. I should have given you this one first then.
The Velveteen Robot
Tony is a robot, an experiment in artificial intelligence and learning.
Joe goes down to the lab and reads books to the robot.
The robot listens quietly.
Once, after reading The Velveteen Rabbit, the robot asks if it could ever be alive.
Joe doesn’t know how to answer.
“I am the Velveteen Robot,” says Tony.
Joe shrugs, and brings in velvet for the robot to wrap in.
Tony bends its pair of antenna, wraps them like rabbit ears, sews on cotton for a tail.
Then it tries to hop, jars a power cable loose, and falls over with a thud.
Come Out Swinging
I once knew a judge who was sick and tired of his rulings getting appealed.
So, every time a court overturned one of his rulings, he’d drive to that judge’s house and punch them in the face.
Still the appeals kept coming, so he changed tactics: when someone appealed his rulings, he’d drive to their house and punch them in the face.
These days, he strides into the courtroom, wearing his black robe like a boxer’s, preferring black trunks with black boots and gloves.
He smacks the gavel against the bell, comes out swinging, and the litigants run for cover.
Iron Fist
We live in a dictatorship.
The Great Leader rules the land with an iron fist.
Well, it’s actually a rather nice-looking prosthetic. Rather functional, too. He used to be medical technology engineer who worked with advanced robotics before he went into politics, but he still dabbles in the field now and then when the country’s running smoothly.
Which is rather often, even during disasters. We’re all quite well prepared for most circumstances, and don’t panic in a crisis.
Neighboring countries regularly beg for us to invade them and take them over, but we’re quite content to manage our own affairs.
Martian canals
Astronomers in the 19th Century said there were canals on Mars.
Whether this was because of the poor optics available or the construction of several major canal projects here on Earth, I’m not sure. But over time, better telescopes demonstrated that there were definitely no canals on Mars.
Still, I like to imagine ancient Martians, punting gondolas from domed city to domed city, chanting Martian chants as young Martian lovers watched the clouds, hand in hand, talon in talon, tails entwined.
Ah, Science! You foul destroyer of Romance!
I push the astronomer’s head back into the toilet and flush again.
Drill
Due to an error in Shipping, my dentist received a deep-ocean oil drill instead of the replacement enamel drill he’d ordered.
My tooth was killing me, though, and the referral was across town, so we went through with the appointment anyway.
I swear, I went through three tanks of nitrous, and damn if that thing was uncomfortable, but seven thousand feet down, he struck oil.
After venting off the natural gas, he capped the well, put in a temporary, and made an appointment for next Tuesday to fix a permanent crown.
Sadly, my insurance plan doesn’t cover pumping or tankers.
College Ball
We watch college ball on Saturday, pro on Sunday.
Been doing that for a long time.
Both games have changed over the years, with kickoffs, protecting the quarterback, and all the damn graphics on the screen.
Biggest change of all is instant replay.
The coach tosses a flag, the officials head to the sideline, and they review the play.
Yeah, for years, we’ve seen that stuff at home, or in the stadium, but now it’s official.
So when the referee ran out of the replay booth flailing his hands and screaming “THE ALIENS ARE COMING!”
Yeah, better close the roof.