Laugh Tracks in the Dust 11-2-09
Ol’ C. B. Taleteller from Mountain Grove, Mo., writes about an unusual wildlife happening on his dairy farm. It’s happened more than once to both C. B., his son, and the feller who previously owned the farm.
It all happened when they were gathering the milk cows after dark. C. B. sez when it happened to him, he started out after the cows and the gentle barn cat went along.
Well, C. B. wuz walking along in the dark and he heard tiny footsteps walking along beside him. Thinking it was the barn cat, he paid no attention for quite awhile. But then a strange feeling swept over him and he turned on his flashlight and looked down beside him.
Surprise! Surprise! What he saw helping him gather cows wuz not the barn cat, but a furry, black and white striped critter with a distinct odor. C. B. sez the skunk looked up into the light and quietly ambled off into the darkness. Now, C. B. almost expects the skunk’s company when he heads off in the dark to fetch the cows.
God bless little children. They provide us with some of life’s most precious moments.
I’ve got a good aggie friend, ol’ Stone Lair, who has a son who is in the “go-go, no-talk” stage of life. Well, last week, Stone took his son to the bedroom for a bedtime story from the toddler’s favorite book.
They were snuggled in comfortably on the bed reading the book when the family’s kitty cat jumped up on the bed beside them.
As Stone wuz reading the book, his son touched the cat’s ear and then touched his own ear. Stone said, “Yes, that’s kitty’s ear and your ear.”
The toddler then touched the cat’s eye and his own eye. Stone reaffirmed that “yes, that’s kitty’s eye and your eye.”
Next anatomical body part wuz kitty’s mouth and the toddler’s mouth.
Then, the toddler touched the cat’s tail. When he did, Stone said, “That’s kitty’s tail. You don’t have a tail, do you?”
At that, his very observant son shook his head “yes,” pulled out the front of his diaper and pointed down at his “tail.”
I’ll bet Stone’s son won’t think that story is funny when his dad tells it when the boy is in his teens.
Heard from a kindly Colorado reader who tells me a farfetched story about one of his self-described “airhead” friends who wuz having trouble with his first-ever e-mail account on his computer and the Internet.
While they were having coffee one morning, the friend complained to the storyteller about the nuisance of having such a long password to his e-mail account.
The storyteller then asked his friend how long his password wuz and the friend replied, “Eight characters – just like the instructions said.”
“Well, I might be able to help you if you don’t mind telling me what your eight character password is,” the storyteller volunteered.
“Sure. I trust you,” his friend said. “My password is RoyRogersGeneAutryHopalong CassidyLoneRangerTontoLashLarueTomMix JohnWayne.”
Speaking of rural coffee shops, here are some recently-heard-over-breakfast snippets of conversation among the early-rising farmers and ranchers:
• Health Care: “The health-care system Congress is debating has one good feature. We know there will be a long delay before they euthanize us.”
• Funeral Plans: “You plan to be cremated. Well, that’s thinking outside the box!”
• Retirement: “I’m retired. I was tired yesterday and I’m tired again today.”
• Long Marriage: “Been married 50 years next week. We sure did marry for better or worse. She couldn’t find any better and I couldn’t do any worse!”
Here’s an e-mailed story about the old west.
Years ago, when the great land rush was beginning in the American West, there weren’t sufficient horses and mules and wagons to go around. In other words, there was a shortage of “horsepower” and seats.
Consequently, there were never enough seats and space on wagon trains and stage coaches to satisfy the demand. Therefore, a hard and fast rule was set by the transportation providers. People whose posteriors measured over a certain width would not be accommodated.
In other words, there was no West for the reary.
I think they’re having the same sort of problems on airplanes these days.
I’m pretty sure you’d like me to quit this column about here so you could sink your rear into your comfortable easy chair, so I’ll accommodate you and quit with these patriotic words from Confederate General Robert E. Lee before the Civil War began: “If it [comes] to a conflict of arms, the war will last at least four years. Northern politicians will not appreciate the determination and pluck of the South, and Southern politicians do not appreciate the numbers, resources, and patient perseverance of the North. Both sides forget that we are all Americans. I foresee that our country will pass through a terrible ordeal, a necessary expiation, perhaps, for our national sins.”
Have a good ‘un.
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