I choked on a carrot this morning, and all I could think of was, “I’ll bet a doughnut wouldn’t have done this to me.”
Nothing spoils a good story more than the arrival of an eyewitness. (Mark Twain)
[and as Sir Thomas Huxley exclaimed, “A beautiful theory, spoiled by an ugly little fact”; the t-shirt I once saw: “Reality is for people who can’t handle drugs.” RAB]
It only takes one slow-walking person in the grocery store to destroy the illusion that I’m a nice person
It turns out that when asked who your favorite child is, you’re supposed to pick out one of your own. I know that now.
It’s fine to eat a test grape in the produce section, but you take one bite of rotisserie chicken and it’s all, “Sir, you need to leave!”
One thing no one ever talks about, when it comes to being an older adult, is how much time we devote to keeping [an empty] cardboard box because it is, you know, a really good box.
[My dad used to keep a lot of boxes (but in all fairness, he did have a lot of files, and moved a lot] and would always say, “don’t throw that out”. One time with my brother, as we were packing lots of his stuff up (as he always called us to help [that is, do most of the work] move, there was a box that had outlived it’s usefulness and I said to my brother, “watch… tell me what this is”… and I violently crushed the box. He replied, “I don’t know, what?” I said, “The Boxer Rebellion”. I told my brother, I can see it now, when dad passes, we both are going to contest the will, and say, “NO, I want my brother to have everything!” RAB]
I can’t believe I forgot to go to the gym today. That’s seven years in a row, now. (Finally, I changed the name of my John to Jim and go a coupla’ times a day.)
If you dropped something when you were younger, you just picked it up. When you’re older and you drop something, you stare at it for just a bit contemplating if you actually need it anymore.
I like to make lists. I also like to leave them lying on the kitchen counter, and then guess what’s on the list when I am at the store.
Ask your doctor if a drug with 32 pages of side effects is bad for you.
I relabeled all of the jars in my wife’s spice rack. I’m not in trouble yet, but the thyme is cumin.
I just read a book about marriage that says treat your wife like you treated her on your first date. So tonight after dinner I’m dropping her off at her parent’s house.
The best way to get back on your feet is to miss two car payments.
As I watch this generation try to rewrite history, one thing I am sure of is that it will be misspelled and have no punctuation
[and be full of emoticons and acronyms, even though they don’t know what an acronym is, it accounts for 90% of everything they say. If you asked if they like acronyms they would probably say, “No thanks, I don’t like nuts. RAB]
Driver: “What am I supposed to do with this speeding ticket?” Officer, “Keep it. When you collect four of them, you get a bicycle.”
I asked a supermarket employee where they kept the canned peaches. He said, “I’ll see,” & walked away. I asked another & he also said, “I’ll see,” & walked away. In the end, I gave up & found them myself, in Aisle C.
[—read that a few times and it will sink in… RAB]
I told my physical therapist that I broke my arm in two (2) places. He told me to stop going to those places.
I put our scale in the bathroom corner & that’s where the little liar will stay until it apologizes.
[I have one of those smart scales, but it is too smart for it’s own good. Not really a smart scale, if those exist, but it has a digital read out and has various buttons to give bodyfat content, which I have never figured out (ignorance sometimes is bliss). I guess that is sort of the scale version of a “second opinion”; like the guy who went to the doctor and the doctor gave him a checkup and said, “you are really in terrible shape”. The patient said, “I’d like to get a second opinion”. The doctor replied, “Okay, you have a pretty bad attitude”. Anyway, I get on my scale and it simply tells me what it told me the previous time. I tell it, “No, I did not ask you to guess. I want you to actually take time out of your busy schedule of just laying there and actually weigh me. Then I grab a stack of books and step on. It weighs me. Then I step off and weigh myself again, and I presume it gives me the correct weight. So far, it has not told me after the weighing without the books, “congratulations, you just lost 10 pounds”. If it does, it will go flying through the window and we shall see if it likes a short career as a test drone better than it’s demanding job of being a very part time scale. Reminds me… I got one of those “memory foam” pillows… I laid my head down to sleep and it let out a continual string of screams. Just my luck to get a pillow with really bad memories. RAB]
When I was a kid, I used to watch the ‘Wizard of Oz’ & wonder how someone could talk if they didn’t have a brain. Then I got on Facebook.
Do you ever get up in the morning, look in the mirror & think, “That can’t be accurate!”
[No, I think, “WHO are YOU and WHAT did you do with ME…?!”
I want to be 14 again & ruin my life differently. I have new ideas.
Apparently RSVP’ing to a wedding invitation with “Maybe next time” isn’t the correct response.
A guy walks into a lumberyard & asks for some 2x4s. The clerk asks, “How long do you need them?” The guy answers, “A long time. We’re gonna build a house.”
I just burned 1,200 calories [in 40 minutes]. I forgot the pizza in the oven.
Who knew that the hardest thing about being an adult is figuring out what to fix for dinner and doing it every single night for the rest of your life until you die?
[If that was the worst of my problems / the hardest thing about being an adult then life would be a perpetual vacation… a wonderful dream from which I would never want to wake. RAB]
I hate it when people act all intellectual and talk about Mozart when they’ve never even seen one of his paintings.
Never trust an electrician with no eyebrows.
So my neighbor knocked on my front door at 3 a.m. 3AM!!! Luckily I was already up playing the bagpipes.
Instead of cleaning my house, I just watch an episode of “The Hoarders,” and think, “Wow! My house looks great.”
[—and the bumper sticker I saw once: If you don’t like the way I drive then stay off the sidewalk!”]