We all gathered around Aunt Gertrude’s bed and watched as she slowly slipped away.
“She’s slid off the bed!” shouted Cousin Eddie. “Catch her!”
Yeah, we’d warned the hospice workers that Gertrude had a thing for slathering with grease, but they watched television instead of Gertie, and she’d hidden a tub of it under her pillow.
Uncle Larry made a grab for her, narrowly missing. She slipped past all of us, out the door, and down the hall.
Oh well. At least she didn’t fade away like Grandma Phyllis.
(We still trip over her invisible body every now and then.)
Tag: silly
The Trouble With Truffles
The trouble with truffles
Is how much they cost
If the truffle is bad
Think how much you’ve lost
Dull aroma? Dull flavor?
Yes? And you simmered it right?
Then you must go to the store
And prepare for a fight!
The store owner laughs twice
“What are you, a dope?
It’s no truffle at all,
But a bar of black soap!”
“Then where is my truffle?”
Your blind rage is all spent.
Falling down to the floor
And then notice… your scent.
Back home in your shower
Sitting there in a tray
Is a decaying truffle
melting slowly away.
Scribe
Where do I get my ideas?
I don’t know. Everywhere, I guess.
I’m walking along, minding my own business, and I see something that inspires me.
I used to keep a spiralbound notebook with me for those times, to write down the ideas.
Then I got a smartphone, but when my hands were full, or I got ideas in the shower (sometimes the same thing, really), I’d end up forgetting them.
Now, I have a monk write everything down for me, any hour of the day.
Brother William is loyal and efficient.
While I am a complete and total douchebag.
Property Values
The housing market’s in trouble, and everybody’s worried about property values going down.
Somehow, that building you live in stopped being a home and became an investment.
A bad investment.
So, you come up with a plan.
Drag the treadmill to the front porch, find the tightest traffic-stopping spandex you can fit into, and see what happens.
A week goes by.
Two weeks.
Three weeks.
You check the online property values map site your friend told you about.
The numbers have gone up.
“I’ve still got it,” you tell yourself, heading for the shower.
(And leave the window curtain open.)
The Tarmac
Hey, Scotty!
Put your helmet on and meet me on the tarmac in five.
You and me, we’re going flying!
That’s right! I got the biplane fixed.
Repaired the wing, replaced the engine, and even got the control cables tightened up.
Good as new.
Well, okay, it’s better than new.
Because when it was new, yeah, we crashed into that tree.
Don’t remind me. It still hurts when I sit down.
But we’ll forget all about that when we’re back in that plane and in the air.
Just to be safe, though, how about we cut down that tree first?
Stability
I moved to this town years ago.
Got this house, picked out some furniture, and started my new life here.
I was alone.
Confused.
Afraid.
After years of shakiness and instability, trying one self-help book after another, I turned to religion.
I sought out every faith there was, and they all gave me holy books to take home.
The Bible.
The Torah.
The Q’Ran.
The Book Of Mormon.
All of them.
I tried them all, and after years searching, I finally found one that was the right fit.
Steady as a rock.
No. Really. My kitchen table doesn’t wobble anymore.
Crazy Little Thing
Freddie Mercury sang about a crazy little thing called love.
The crazy little thing in my life is my midget cousin Edith.
Yes, despite her madness we love her, but we also keep her locked in the basement.
However, every so often, she manages to get out, slipping past my wife as she brings up the laundry or stacking boxes to bust out through a storm window.
This is why we keep the cutlery on high shelves or in drawers with locks.
As for the firearms, well, that gun cabinet is kept locked.
Right?
What? It’s open?
Oh my God!
Turtle Wax Soup
Thanks for coming to dinner. I’ve prepared something special.
No, not my turtle soup. Turtles have gotten too rare and expensive to put in turtle soup.
And it’s cruel to the turtles.
Hence, my latest creation: Turtle Wax Soup.
Mmmmmmmm. Turtle Wax Soup.
Sure, it’s a bit thick. Almost a pudding.
And it’s not terribly appetizing. Tastes like car wax.
(Which, I suppose, it is.)
Yes, the oyster crackers is made from oyster shells. Picked them out of the neighbor’s driveway myself.
Just as I took his bottle of Turtle Wax while he took a break from washing his car.
Posterity
We leave many things to future generations.
The stuff we’re proud of, we put our names on them.
The stuff we’re not, we try to keep our names off of them.
Or bury them as deep as we can so they turn up long after we’re gone and forgotten.
Last night, when I caught Earl trying to bury a barrel of nuclear waste with his name on it, I told him “You’re doin it wrong, Earl.”
He smacked his forehead and said “You’re right, Joe.”
He got out a can of white spraypaint, crossed out the EARL, and wrote JOE.
The Navigator
Robert The Navigator looked over Captain Blood’s map.
“You’re shitting me, right?” he said.
Captain Blood raised an eyebrow.
Robert pointed at a sea serpent in the corner. “Ever seen one of these?”
“No.”
“How about this?” Robert pointed to a fat-cheeked blowing cloud.
“Well, it’s not to be taken too literally.”
“And am I to believe that this land here actually exists?”
“Um, that’s Italy.”
“Shaped like a boot? No, really… what child drew this?”
“Serpent ahoy!” shouted the first mate.
Captain Blood watched as Robert was thrown overboard.
“Good show, Blood,” said a nearby cloud. “Need a gust?”