Righting -again

More terrible puns of mine

“I won’t go into that optometrist shop.” She said. “They don’t carry this style anymore.”
“So, you won’t go there because you won’t get respect?”

They stood there, surveying their damaged house. The earthquake had totally destroyed it. She turned towards the makeshift shelter he had erected. It was just an army surplus canvas tent that he bought on sale two years ago.
The first storm of the season began to rain on them as his wife ducked into the shelter.
“This will never do!” She exclaimed. “There are holes everywhere and the wind blows right through.
He sighed and looked up at the clouds and said wearily. “Now is the winter of our discount tent.”

When the defendant came up for trial, the judge said. “We shall know the truth, and the shall set your fee.”

Then there was the guy who kept annoying this prostitute that hung out near his apartment. They arrested him of course, for disturbing the piece.

If a scientist copies another scientist genetically engineered disease and then releases it to infect people, would he be accused of plague-arism?

A gorgeous woman lies in a hospital, in the final stages of TB. As she hacks and coughs, one has to wonder if she can now be considered a Phlegm fatale?

In France, the race car drivers are all upset about health insurance. It seems that most companies are denying them coverage. They claim that the drivers have a Prix-existing condition.

In a small town out west, the train pulls into the station and one man gets off. As he walks down the main street, the townspeople stop and stare, some pull children inside.
In front of one building stands an older man, black bag in his hands. Above him, a sign reads, ‘Dr. Rawlings, Specialist in Rheumatoid arthritis’
The young man stops and Dr Rawlings looks him over. “So, you’re the new doctor? And an arthritis specialist? You might as well get back on the train young man. As I told you in my telegram, there isn’t Rheum enough in this town for the two of us.”


If a ghost leaves a smelly residue, would it be a poulter-gas?

“Pumas are very shy creatures with low self-esteem and you don’t see them often.” The guide explained.
“Why is that?” The hunter asked.
“Well, as near as we can tell, as they are growing up, their mothers always tell them that they catamount to much.”

So, there is this group of lesbians sitting at an English pub. One of them is talking about her last relationship that went sour.
“You know, sometimes I don’t think there is a woman out there for me. Maybe I should try a man?”
Here friends are shocked, of course; but one of them supports her and says.
“What the heck, go for Bloke.”

Of course, if a gay man were to date women, he would be broadening his horizons!

As Grandpa used to say, “I’ve become a believer in old wives tails.”

“You know honey, I think that I was always meant to be your wife.”
“Well, I guess I’ve grown accustomed to your fate.”

Well, it seems that the triplet convention is not going to have their convention at Yosemite National Forest again. Everyone complained that they couldn’t see the forest for the three’s.

“Do you like deer?”
“I’m fawned of them.”

“I don’t like palm trees.” She declared, “Their leaves are so messy.”
“Your not frond of them?”

Limericks

Here are a few of my attempts at Limericks.
Elly was the only one who didn’t like hers.

A comely young lass named Trace
Kept her suitors at bay with mace.
But a man named Phil
Had a strong will,
and the marriage is soon to take place.


The was a young woman named Lois
Who pretended never to know us
For if she gave us strong drink
We’d throw up in her sink
And straight to the door she would show us


The was a young man named Matt
Who claimed to know where it was at
But when she darkened the room
He got lost in the gloom
And somehow molested the cat.


There once was a gal named Elly,
Who claimed that her feet weren’t smelly.
But it seemed her nose,
Lacked a gene to smell toes.
For their reek could turn a strong belly.


Miss Silver, whom we called Steph.
Had the boys all out of breath.
For try as they might,
from morning till night.,
they couldn’t find a word that rhymed with Silver.

Cousin, Cuisine

A few months back, we had a little gathering at Auntie’s. There were several generations present and at one point someone tried to figure out the family tree of the cousins. I pointed out that the different generations were counted as ‘removals’. And that contrary to popular belief, ‘removal’ did not refer to how many times a person had been kicked out of the family.
“Then what’s a ‘kissing cousin’?” Someone asked.
“That’s a cousin you wouldn’t mind kissing.” I answered.
“Then what’s a second cousin?” Someone else asked.
“That’s a cousin that you wouldn’t mind having seconds of!”
A couple of guys laughed at that; WG just hit me on the arm.

The conversation was quickly changed to the weather and I almost brought up ‘relative humidity’; but I knew they would not want to hear about the time the cousin got moist.

Even silver linings have a cloud

It’s the first rain of the season. Instead of the usual little storm with light rain, we are being pounded! High winds are making the rain blow sideways and half of our covered deck is wet.
We are safe inside, where it is warm; but silly Molly is on the back deck. It’s not that cold, but she is curled up on the wicker love seat, shivering. She won’t come in because WG was mean to her. WG baked cookies today; snicker-doodles.
Late last year, we bought a new oven. It has a fancy electronic control panel that beeps when you turn on the oven. The first time we used it was to bake a roast. Some fat splattered out, burned and set off the smoke alarm.
Molly did not like the scream of the smoke alarm and she made for the back door and stood there trembling. We let her out and she would not come in for hours!
So now, every time we turn on the oven, the beep warns Molly and she goes to the back door, waiting to be let out. She will not come in until the oven has been off for a while.
Silly dog.
And I have homemade cookies!

I’m ready

Here are two interesting items from my dad’s collection, a 1943 copy of the Aeronautics Aircraft Spotters Handbook and a U.S. Navy Anti-aircraft Range Indicator. (made by the A.C. Gilbert Co. The same company that made Erector Sets! You wonder what toy makers did during WWII? They made toys for the military.)

Study the book. Recognize the approaching plane. Hold the Range Indicator two feet from your eye. Turn the dial until the two center wires match the wingtips. Call out the range to the gunners and watch them try to blow the bastard out of the sky.



So if those pesky Krauts ever decide to launch their He-111’s or Ju-88’s across the channel again, I’ll be ready.

I think they should be kept as a set.

The Duration

One of the fun things about listening to old radio shows is that you get a feel for the times. Besides the information in the story you listen to, there are the commercials. Where the story is fiction, the commercials reflect reality.
And you find that the problems and solutions from sixty years ago are not very different from today.

This is very apparent when listening to the Signal Oil program, ‘The Whistler’. I have just finished listening to the episodes from the early forties and the main topic for the commercials is how to get through ‘The Duration’. The Duration was how long WWII was to last. Because everything was needed for the war effort, there were many things that were rationed and some things you could not buy.
I don’t think new cars were being built. Tires and gasoline were rationed.

So your car had to last for ‘The Duration’ and you had to take care of your car. Change the oil every 1,000 miles, have your tires checked for nicks and cuts. (so you can get them recapped)
The amusing thing I have found was the advice on saving gas. Last summer, people complained about the high price of gasoline. During WWII, because gas was rationed, if you ran out of ration stamps, you could not buy any more. (okay, there was the black market.)
Sixty years ago, the advice to save gas was the same as it is today.
Slow starts.
Keep your tires properly inflated.
Keep the car tuned up.
Car pool.

And buy Signal Gasoline. The ‘go farther’ gasoline.