Joke 904

1st politician (Photo credit: molito66)

A bus filled with politicians was driving down a country road, when the bus ran off the road and crashed into a tree in an old farmer’s field. The old farmer went over to investigate.

A few days later, the local sheriff came out looking for the missing politicos, saw the crashed bus, and asked the farmer where all the politicians had gone.

The farmer said, “I buried ’em all…out back.”

The sheriff asked, “Were they ALL dead?”

The old farmer replied, “Well, some of them said they weren’t, but you know how them politicians lie.”

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From ebaumsworld.com

Catching Up With Prompts

Image by Dunechaser via Flickr

What is your biggest frustration about driving?

That I don’t.  I did once, until a nasty man was mean to me and I lost my nerve.  Not that I had much nerve to start with: three attempts to pass my test, and I bawled my eyes out during each one.

Remember something important you’ve lost.

My nerve (previous prompt refers).  And my mind.  I had one once.  It all goes into the first baby, you know.  The nurse at my ante-natal class told us that babies are parasites.  I wonder if she thought it was an anti-natal class?

Suggest a way for the government to unload foreclosed properties without swamping the already depressed real estate market.

Don’t foreclose in the first place.  Give the people you’ve made unemployed because of your mishandling of the economy a breathing space.

When is it ok to quit something?

When you’ve made everyone unemployed and homeless and you realise you don’t know how to handle the economy.

Write your bucket list.

• Mop
• Plastic
• Metal
• Seat

That’s all I’ve got.

Write a top ten list of your favorite songs.

Dear WordPress: why the sudden preoccupation with lists?  Why do you want me to bore my readers?  Who finds these lists interesting except the person who wrote them?

Dear readers: just remembered I’ve read at least half a dozen of your top ten songs lists.  Sorry.

Dear reader: thanks for staying.

Assemble your dream dinner guest list.

Seriously?  Did you not read my last response?

Sigh.

Okay then:

• any model/actress/WAG.

They’ll be on diets, meaning I get all the roast potatoes.

If you could be part of any fictional universe, what would it be?

I first thought of Harry Potter’s world, but I guarantee I wouldn’t be Hermione or Dumbledore.  At best, I’d be Luna; at worst, I’d be a squib.

I’d join Ender but, let’s face it: saviour of the planet, yes; barrel of laughs, no.

Perhaps Georgette Heyer’s Regency England?  Hmm…what are the chances I’d be the maid who empties the chamber pots (never mentioned, but you just know she’s lurking in the background)?  Or worse: the cook.

I’d join Jean-Luc on the Enterprise because of our shared love of Tea, Earl Grey, hot, and rigid adherence to good manners; but that Dr Beverley Crusher never lets him out of her sight and for all I know she could be well-named.

No, I think I’ll stay in my own universe of happy marriage, perfect kids and successful blog.  They don’t come more fictional than that.

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Related articles

• If you could be part of any fictional universe, what would it be? (greenskyoutside.wordpress.com)
• If you could be part of any fictional universe, what would it be? (iamdustdaughter.wordpress.com)
• A simple post without prompting (laurieanichols.wordpress.com)
• PLINKY: daily writing prompts available (kinklogs.wordpress.com)

Of Boxes & Boxers

Papier-mâché – such fun!  I was helping in school yesterday.  The girls got stuck in but some of the boys found it gross and didn’t like the mulch under their fingernails.  I’m that way about pastry, which is why I never make it. 

Two of the boys didn’t get past the building a mountain out of egg boxes stage, and asked for my help.  I found myself doing a Hub and completely taking over.  My mountain had a waterfall and caves and the fact that it was green and lumpy and the waterfall was made of a Smarties box means that you have no imagination at all.

Let me explain what I mean by ‘doing a Hub’: if you can ever not be bothered to finish a project, any project, just ask the Hub for his help; sit back; relax; watch a movie; bake a pie (using frozen pastry, naturally); raise a family.  He cannot help himself when he sees that you are not putting enough effort in; not dotting the ‘i’s, crossing the ‘t’s, outlining the crayon with a black marker pen; not using a fork to prettify the pie.  It’s how he got so sick in the first place.  Delegate?  Pah!  He spits on your ‘delegate’ (just got all Rowan Atkinson-French in Not The Nine O’Clock News there).  Why should he delegate when he can do it all himself?  He is not a perfectionist – good grief, no!  He denies the accusation strenuously, insisting that he just trys to be a perfectionist.  I bet 90% of all CFS/ME sufferers have the same complaint.

The children had to bring boxes into school to make their models.  I’m guessing that some didn’t bother to ask their parents’ permission: one had obviously retrieved his mother’s Canesten Duo box from the bin;  another was going to be in trouble when his mother discovered he had taken tonight’s ready meal from the freezer.  The worst part was that he left the food inside and took it into school three days before the project started.  There were a lot of complaints about the peculiar smell, especially once the heating was turned up.

Children don’t always embarrass their parents; sometimes it’s the other way around.  Tory Boy has joined http://www.formspring.me/.  Anyone can ask you any question and you can answer them.  He has had lots of political questions (Q: If after the election we have a hung parliament, how would you like to see the situation resolved? A: Too dull for this blog) and some personal (Me: Are you eating properly?  TB: Stop nagging), but this one made me laugh:

Q: Boxers or briefs (or other)?

A: Boxers. Always. Also, other? What the hell? No, just no.

I liked his answer so much I Liked it on Facebook.  Five minutes later I received an outraged phone call from my son asking me to Unlike it immediately and to refrain from liking his underwear on a public forum.  And in private, come to think of it.  It was just wrong on so many levels he would have to deny I was his parent if we were ever together in public.  That made me laugh even more: as if I’d ever admit that a politician was related to me, let alone be seen with him in public…how embarrassing.