Can't we all just get along?

Have a hoodsie today in honor of Trayvon.

Snippets from the last few days

WIFEY: "You make so much noise when you eat cereal!"

ME: "It's Capt. Crunch. It's supposed to be noisy."

----

Wifey was leaving the house. I went up to her to say goodbye. I proceeded to 'fist bump' her.

WIFEY: "I don't do that!"

We then proceeded to low-five each other.

----
I called up a restaurant for a reservation and I asked for the manager.

Here is the conversation:

ME: "Is Lonnie there?"

HOSTESS: "Let me check."

ME: "Okay."

:::a few moments later:::

HOSTESS: "What's your name?"

ME: "IANO" (I didn't really say IANO)

HOSTESS: "She is here if you have lemon cookies for her."
-------

ME: "I like those shoes."

WIFEY: "Last year you hated them."

ME: "Last year you wore them with capris."

WIFEY: "Not capris, ankle Levis."

ME: "They look good with today's pants."

WIFEY: "Okee Dokee, Tommy Hilfiger."

------

OLD LADY AT RESTAURANT: "I'm a bit woozy after that drink."

ME: "You should go home and have another. Go crazy."

OLD LADY AT RESTAURANT: :::giggle:::

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ME TEXTING HOAG: "I just had a cigarette."

HOAG TEXTING ME BACK: "Idiot."

----

WIFEY: "Why do you do that?"

ME: "Do what?"

WIFEY: "You hold your breath."

ME: "I don't hold my breath."

WIFEY: "You do! You inhale and then you hold it in. Then you make a loud noise as you exhale."

----

WIFEY TEXTING ME: "It's so nice out! I want a porch!"

ME TEXTING HER BACK: "I built one for you this morning."

When I eat pepperoni I have vivid dreams.

Last night I had sausage.

Sausage makes me dream about The Monkees and baseball.

I was sitting in section #1 of Fenway Park. The worst section of any ballpark in the world.

Luckily I was sitting with Davy Jones, Peter Tork, and Micky Dolenz.

Micky was a bit cranky. The other two were nice.

Peter had on an ID bracelet.

It was engraved with one word in bold lettering.

CLARKSVILLE.

And that my friends took all of 38 seconds to tell.

Jews are funny. Clowns are funny. Put them together?

Not so funny.

Conversation with my daughter

DAUGHTER: "You kmow...Grandpa is the best man in the world."

ME: :::eyebrow raised:::

DAUGHTER: "After you."

ME: "Nice save."

Massage my penis and I enjoy it for a day. Teach me how to massage my penis and I enjoy it for a lifetime!

So I have a new crazy guy that comes in the shop.

Today he started spouting off on how TV is ruining people and society.

Then he said some weird bible verses.

Then he asked if he could massage my penis.

Here is the rest of the conversation:

ME: "YOU CAN'T SAY STUFF LIKE THAT TO ME!!"

MASSAGE PENIS GUY: "I said nothing for you to show such outrage."

ME: "Yes you did! You can't talk like that in my store!"

MASSAGE PENIS GUY: "I said it the proper way."

----

The Life of Brian

So I had a long time customer named Brian (I didn't actually 'have' him...he just shopped here)

Anyhow...

So about 3 years ago he moved away.

He was in the area yesterday and he stopped by.

Here is the conversation:

BRIAN: "WOW! You haven't changed at all!"

----

So to sum up:

He was gone for around 3 years....did he think I'd have a beard down to my knees? I'd be fat and bald? Sixteen grandchildren?

(He was a bit fatter than I remembered)

I have a thing for parachutes.

This might be my all time favorite blog post..

So I'm at a party last night and I notice Bill has a new iPhone.

We go over apps. He starts showing me his pix.

Lots of pictures from where he works.

Some animal thing. Not really sure exactly.

Anyhow...we come to this picture. A real picture. Not photoshopped.

It's a dog head. Bill has a reason to have a picture of a dog head on a table.

I don't.


Bill also mentioned that he has a picture of his arm up a horse vagina.

(I'll post that when I get it)

He also mentioned that sometimes he'll be on a business trip and a shipment of frozen dog heads will come in.

They thaw them out in the hotel bathtub.

I read this on Facebook so it must be true.

Women only like to be called one thing that begins with the letter B.

Them bitches LOVE being called beautiful!

I'm going to leave today's post untitled otherwise I'd have to put the word Asshole in it.

So a guy calls me the other day and asks if he can bring in some stuff to sell me.

I say sure. He brings it in.

Transaction complete.

Here is the conversation that followed.

HIM: "Well, it was good seeing you're still here."

ME: "Thanks...almost 29 years here."

HIM: "I haven't been in this store since Dan Levine worked here."

ME: "A Dan Levine never worked here."

HIM: "It was probably before your time."

ME: "Nope...I'm the owner, I know everybody that has ever worked here."

HIM: "You probably can't remember them all. No big deal."

ME: "Trust me, Dan Levine never worked here. Maybe you're thinking of another shop?"

HIM: "Nope, I used to come in all the time when Dan worked here."

ME: "Cool. Thanks for coming in. Tell Dan I said Hi."

----

So to sum up:
Dan Levine never worked here. I've never met a Dan Levine.

Obviously.

WIFEY: "You're not obviously gay."

ME: "I know."

Stinkin' to high Heaven

So I pull into my driveway the other night and open the garage door.

Sitting on the stairs that go to my house is a skunk!

I'm in the driveway. I flick my high beams at him. (Or was it a her?)

LePew just stares at me.

Years ago we had a skunk in the garage and it took hours for him (her?) to leave.

So I phoned Wifey.

ME: "Did you leave something on the stairs? It looks like a skunk."

WIFEY: "No. I'll go check."

--

So I'm in the safety of my car.

Headlights shining on Skunky.

Wifey slowly opens the door and SCREAMS!!

And then she does the stupid!

SHE KICKS THE SKUNK IN THE ASS!!

And then goes back in the house.

She gets back on phone and says the skunk is dead.

I'm still not going in the garage.

So I get out of my car and run into the house through the front door.

Wifey starts laughing at me.

The skunk is a fake skunk.

Well, actually the skunk was a real skunk.

He was just dead and stuffed.

And on my stairs in my garage.

SO TO SUM UP:
Wifey has a dead stuffed real skunk and she's not afraid to use it.

The "Sturbridge Village" Insurance Agency.

INSURANCE AGENT: "So, if you'll just fax me back that paperwork I'll get right on it."

ME: "Fax? Do you mind if I finish churning the butter first?"

INSURANCE AGENT: "I don't know what you mean."

ME: "Do people still churn butter?"

INSURANCE AGENT: "You're confusing me."

ME: "Do people still really fax?"

INSURANCE AGENT: "Not often."

ME: "Thank you."

Jesus in a blanket

Someone just pointed out to me that if you say 'JESUS' backwards it sounds like 'sausage'.

If only Jesus tasted like sausage...