Car needs repair
Momma needs a dress
And haven't got a dime
Daughter needs braces
Son needs shoes
Poppa needs more overtime!
Our town finally got in cable television. As a starting special, they gave us the first three months free for having it installed. I had it installed, and taken out at the end of the three month period.
A hundred channels, and all I could find, was reruns of the reruns that I had been watching for the last twenty years!
I've drank coffee so strong it should have had a sign on it saying:
The chuckholes in the driveway of the bar got so deep that I suggested to the bar owner that he stock them with fish and charge an admission fee.
My wife and I took the pick-up and went shopping in the city at one of those warehouse grocery stores.
On the way back I broke a rear spring in the pick-up, which negated any savings that we might have made.
We bought enough toilet paper, paper towels, paper plates, catsup, and mustard to supply our town for a year, and I had to eat hamburger and tomato soup for a month.
It reminded me of when I was a cook in the air force. The Air Force had a book on how to prepare food, but I still swear the original name was "A thousand and one ways to use tomato sauce."
Just add spices and hamburger and put it on a bun and you have sloppy joes.
Add spices, hamburger and beans, and you have chili.
Add spices, hamburger, and maccaroni and you have chilimac.
Add spices, hamburger, spaghetti, and you have spaghetti and meatballs.
Add spices, onions, steak, and you have Swiss steak.
The list goes on and on.
One mess sergeant that I worked for thought this might work for other food also, so he ordered up a bunch of turkeys, sliced them up, coated the slices in batter, threw them in a skillet and served the results as "fried turkey".
The patrons of the mess hall who ate this concoction never said it was good or bad just that it was different. Needless to say business in the messhall was very slow for the next week.
He should have known the owner of the restaurant where my youngest son worked.
That man had the right idea about fixing food. When my son first started there, it was an "Italian Pizzaria", serving pizza, spaghetti, and ravioli. Advertised as "Home Cooked."
My son said that it came from a frozen food distributor, and all they had to do was to throw it in an oven and warm it up.
It didn't really make any difference, though, because the food was as good as anything that you could prepare in your kitchen anyway.
The problem began when the owner got behind in his bills to the frozen food distributor, and they stopped delivering.
One month of "Home Cooked Meals" by my son, and the other cooks and the "Italian Pizzaria" became an American Hamburgerama, specializing in hamburgers, hotdogs, soups, salads, french fries, and etc.
My son said that he and the other cooks learned very quickly how to prepare these foods correctly, because they had to eat all their mistakes!
We got one new sergeant in the mess hall, who had worked in civilian restaurants. He came in and said that he was going to make a difference in our operation. he divided up the mess hall into two sides, a full meal side, and a short order side.
On the full meal side you could get steaks, roast beef, and chicken with all the trimmings.
On the short order side, you could get pizza, hamburgers, hot dogs, french fries, tacos, and all the food that you would normally find in a fast food restaurant.
The patrons just loved that man!
The problem was that he was under a budget just like all of the mess sergeants before him, where as he could only spend a certain amount of dollars per patron per month.
After two weeks, the full meal side became sloppy joes, chilimac, etc, and the short order side became bologna sandwiches with potato chips. The bologna was no more than one slice per patron, and served on toasted day old bread. The potato chips were no more than four per patron.
And there was no seconds on anything!
When I was a security guard, I used to have to walk around the outside perimeter of the bank, firm, or company that I was guarding. This was to ensure that all exterior openings were locked, nobody was casing the place, and that all employees vehicles were secure.
Since I was walking anyway, I also looked for any money that might have been dropped. I made thirty-six cents one day. I also found small tools like wrenches, allen wrenches, drill bits, and the like. Along with these I picked up many nuts, bolts, staples, screws, nails, tacks, and sharp car parts.
I know that I have saved at least one person a flat tire. Probably myself!
Joe from down at work, went to city hall and complained about teenaged drivers drag racing up and down the residential road in front of his house. The town marshal went over and set up a radar trap and the first one he caught was Joe's sixteen year old son in his new hotrod convertible.
That stopped the drag racing in Joe's neighborhood but the kids moved it out to the edge of town to quieter and less traveled roads. Before long Joe's son had got enough tickets that he lost his drivers license for six months.
Joe and his wife had to go out of town to a relative's funeral and they left the son home.
One night the son invited his girlfriend out on a date and of course they took his hotrod convertible. As he was speeding towards lovers lane the town marshall spotted the car and tried to stop him. The kid just floored the gas and left the marshall in the dust.
The kid came home and as he got out of the car, the marshall stepped out of the darkness and told him, "I have something here for you."
He gave Joe's son a piece of paper, and then continued "It's a ticket for speeding, willful, reckless driving, driving with a suspended license, flight to avoid arrest, and some other minor infractions of the law. All together, it'll get you about six months in jail, and your license will probably be lost for the next ten years."
The marshall stopped to let it sink in and then continued, "I really don't want to do something like that to someone as young as you, so I'd like to make a deal.", the marshall paused, and then continued, "If you will let me impound your car until you get your license back in six months, I'll tear up this ticket. The alternative is that I take you to jail."
Joe's son seeing no alternative, gave the marshall the keys to the car.
Funk&Wagnet said the marshall had the car towed, not to the impound lot, but to his own driveway. There he took the license plates off, and put a sign on the car in place of the plates saying:
The drag racing stopped!
I had a friend named Roger, who was a construction carpenter. He was a great big strong, husky guy with the temperment of a lamb. But everybody does have a breaking point, including Roger.
He was working in a lumberyard, building wooden forms one day to hold cement for a driveway and just as he got finished, a forklift driver who was unloading a truck, backed over the wood and broke the form. Roger was not happy about this, but you know, accidents do happen.
Roger tore out the broken parts of the form, got some more wood, and rebuilt the form. As he was putting away his tools, the driver did it again!
Roger was needless to say, highly upset, but as we all know, accidents do happen, sometimes even twice.
Roger got more wood, tore out the broken forms and rebuilt them.
Just as he was finishing up, the forklift driver drove over the form, and nearly over Roger.
Roger jumped up on the forklift and knocked the driver off, with one blow.
That driver now, not only does not work for that company, he doesn't drive forklifts either!
I had a job working in a fast food joint once.
I called myself: "Hamburger Helper"
When I went to the city and got into a fight in that bar, I had to go see a probation officer before I went to see the judge. She and I talked for a while, and she told me I had to go see a psychologist for anger management. I didn't really understand what that was or why I did have to go, but I went.
The first day I went there, the receptionist told me I would have to take a test, and when the results came back, then I would see the psychologist.
So I took the test. It was two hundred questions:
"Do you love your mother?"
"Do you want to be a forest ranger?"
"Do you read all the articles in the newspaper?"
"Do you want to be a librarian?"
"Do you want to be a newspaper reporter?"
And etc.
During the first twenty-five, I thought hard about each question, and it didn't really make any sense to me. If I answer the questions yes, is that good? If I answer no, is that bad? After about twenty five questions, I gave up trying to figure the logic of it, and just answered whatever.
I went back to see the psychologist and asked him how I did.
The psychologist told me that I didn't do really bad, but that I did have "A few rough edges."
I told him, that's good, because as far as I'm concerned, anybody that asks a stupid question, deserves a stupid answer!
THAT'S what got me the thirty days in jail with NO time off for good behavior!
My wife took the kids and went to the city to visit relatives. Before she left, she cooked some chicken for me to eat while she was away. I got off work, went home, got some of the chicken, and warmed it up.
As I was setting the plate on the table, the telephone rang, and I went into the front room to answer it.
When I got back to the kitchen, there sat my cat, old Tom, on the table with a chicken leg in his mouth.
I let out a yell, and Tom jumped one way, and the chicken leg went the other.
Scratch, my dog, ran under the table, grabbed the chicken leg and out the door he went!
My youngest son also was a cashier when he worked in that restaurant. He said he could always tell who was a farmer when they paid their bills, because the farmers always started off counting their pennies.
Momma needs a dress
And haven't got a dime
Daughter needs braces
Son needs shoes
Poppa needs more overtime!
Our town finally got in cable television. As a starting special, they gave us the first three months free for having it installed. I had it installed, and taken out at the end of the three month period.
A hundred channels, and all I could find, was reruns of the reruns that I had been watching for the last twenty years!
I've drank coffee so strong it should have had a sign on it saying:
BEWARE OF BITE
The chuckholes in the driveway of the bar got so deep that I suggested to the bar owner that he stock them with fish and charge an admission fee.
My wife and I took the pick-up and went shopping in the city at one of those warehouse grocery stores.
On the way back I broke a rear spring in the pick-up, which negated any savings that we might have made.
We bought enough toilet paper, paper towels, paper plates, catsup, and mustard to supply our town for a year, and I had to eat hamburger and tomato soup for a month.
It reminded me of when I was a cook in the air force. The Air Force had a book on how to prepare food, but I still swear the original name was "A thousand and one ways to use tomato sauce."
Just add spices and hamburger and put it on a bun and you have sloppy joes.
Add spices, hamburger and beans, and you have chili.
Add spices, hamburger, and maccaroni and you have chilimac.
Add spices, hamburger, spaghetti, and you have spaghetti and meatballs.
Add spices, onions, steak, and you have Swiss steak.
The list goes on and on.
One mess sergeant that I worked for thought this might work for other food also, so he ordered up a bunch of turkeys, sliced them up, coated the slices in batter, threw them in a skillet and served the results as "fried turkey".
The patrons of the mess hall who ate this concoction never said it was good or bad just that it was different. Needless to say business in the messhall was very slow for the next week.
He should have known the owner of the restaurant where my youngest son worked.
That man had the right idea about fixing food. When my son first started there, it was an "Italian Pizzaria", serving pizza, spaghetti, and ravioli. Advertised as "Home Cooked."
My son said that it came from a frozen food distributor, and all they had to do was to throw it in an oven and warm it up.
It didn't really make any difference, though, because the food was as good as anything that you could prepare in your kitchen anyway.
The problem began when the owner got behind in his bills to the frozen food distributor, and they stopped delivering.
One month of "Home Cooked Meals" by my son, and the other cooks and the "Italian Pizzaria" became an American Hamburgerama, specializing in hamburgers, hotdogs, soups, salads, french fries, and etc.
My son said that he and the other cooks learned very quickly how to prepare these foods correctly, because they had to eat all their mistakes!
We got one new sergeant in the mess hall, who had worked in civilian restaurants. He came in and said that he was going to make a difference in our operation. he divided up the mess hall into two sides, a full meal side, and a short order side.
On the full meal side you could get steaks, roast beef, and chicken with all the trimmings.
On the short order side, you could get pizza, hamburgers, hot dogs, french fries, tacos, and all the food that you would normally find in a fast food restaurant.
The patrons just loved that man!
The problem was that he was under a budget just like all of the mess sergeants before him, where as he could only spend a certain amount of dollars per patron per month.
After two weeks, the full meal side became sloppy joes, chilimac, etc, and the short order side became bologna sandwiches with potato chips. The bologna was no more than one slice per patron, and served on toasted day old bread. The potato chips were no more than four per patron.
And there was no seconds on anything!
When I was a security guard, I used to have to walk around the outside perimeter of the bank, firm, or company that I was guarding. This was to ensure that all exterior openings were locked, nobody was casing the place, and that all employees vehicles were secure.
Since I was walking anyway, I also looked for any money that might have been dropped. I made thirty-six cents one day. I also found small tools like wrenches, allen wrenches, drill bits, and the like. Along with these I picked up many nuts, bolts, staples, screws, nails, tacks, and sharp car parts.
I know that I have saved at least one person a flat tire. Probably myself!
Joe from down at work, went to city hall and complained about teenaged drivers drag racing up and down the residential road in front of his house. The town marshal went over and set up a radar trap and the first one he caught was Joe's sixteen year old son in his new hotrod convertible.
That stopped the drag racing in Joe's neighborhood but the kids moved it out to the edge of town to quieter and less traveled roads. Before long Joe's son had got enough tickets that he lost his drivers license for six months.
Joe and his wife had to go out of town to a relative's funeral and they left the son home.
One night the son invited his girlfriend out on a date and of course they took his hotrod convertible. As he was speeding towards lovers lane the town marshall spotted the car and tried to stop him. The kid just floored the gas and left the marshall in the dust.
The kid came home and as he got out of the car, the marshall stepped out of the darkness and told him, "I have something here for you."
He gave Joe's son a piece of paper, and then continued "It's a ticket for speeding, willful, reckless driving, driving with a suspended license, flight to avoid arrest, and some other minor infractions of the law. All together, it'll get you about six months in jail, and your license will probably be lost for the next ten years."
The marshall stopped to let it sink in and then continued, "I really don't want to do something like that to someone as young as you, so I'd like to make a deal.", the marshall paused, and then continued, "If you will let me impound your car until you get your license back in six months, I'll tear up this ticket. The alternative is that I take you to jail."
Joe's son seeing no alternative, gave the marshall the keys to the car.
Funk&Wagnet said the marshall had the car towed, not to the impound lot, but to his own driveway. There he took the license plates off, and put a sign on the car in place of the plates saying:
NEXT?
The drag racing stopped!
I had a friend named Roger, who was a construction carpenter. He was a great big strong, husky guy with the temperment of a lamb. But everybody does have a breaking point, including Roger.
He was working in a lumberyard, building wooden forms one day to hold cement for a driveway and just as he got finished, a forklift driver who was unloading a truck, backed over the wood and broke the form. Roger was not happy about this, but you know, accidents do happen.
Roger tore out the broken parts of the form, got some more wood, and rebuilt the form. As he was putting away his tools, the driver did it again!
Roger was needless to say, highly upset, but as we all know, accidents do happen, sometimes even twice.
Roger got more wood, tore out the broken forms and rebuilt them.
Just as he was finishing up, the forklift driver drove over the form, and nearly over Roger.
Roger jumped up on the forklift and knocked the driver off, with one blow.
That driver now, not only does not work for that company, he doesn't drive forklifts either!
I had a job working in a fast food joint once.
I called myself: "Hamburger Helper"
When I went to the city and got into a fight in that bar, I had to go see a probation officer before I went to see the judge. She and I talked for a while, and she told me I had to go see a psychologist for anger management. I didn't really understand what that was or why I did have to go, but I went.
The first day I went there, the receptionist told me I would have to take a test, and when the results came back, then I would see the psychologist.
So I took the test. It was two hundred questions:
"Do you love your mother?"
"Do you want to be a forest ranger?"
"Do you read all the articles in the newspaper?"
"Do you want to be a librarian?"
"Do you want to be a newspaper reporter?"
And etc.
During the first twenty-five, I thought hard about each question, and it didn't really make any sense to me. If I answer the questions yes, is that good? If I answer no, is that bad? After about twenty five questions, I gave up trying to figure the logic of it, and just answered whatever.
I went back to see the psychologist and asked him how I did.
The psychologist told me that I didn't do really bad, but that I did have "A few rough edges."
I told him, that's good, because as far as I'm concerned, anybody that asks a stupid question, deserves a stupid answer!
THAT'S what got me the thirty days in jail with NO time off for good behavior!
My wife took the kids and went to the city to visit relatives. Before she left, she cooked some chicken for me to eat while she was away. I got off work, went home, got some of the chicken, and warmed it up.
As I was setting the plate on the table, the telephone rang, and I went into the front room to answer it.
When I got back to the kitchen, there sat my cat, old Tom, on the table with a chicken leg in his mouth.
I let out a yell, and Tom jumped one way, and the chicken leg went the other.
Scratch, my dog, ran under the table, grabbed the chicken leg and out the door he went!
My youngest son also was a cashier when he worked in that restaurant. He said he could always tell who was a farmer when they paid their bills, because the farmers always started off counting their pennies.
