Loif Insurance Fun!
A Message For Men and Women Ages 65-93:
Don't think you qualify for life insurance? Listen to what Ms. Mary Murple of Englewood, New Jersey, has to say about it:
"You know, now that I'm seventy-five, I don't have many years left on this earth. I would give anything to be able to watch my grandchildren grow up, but...I try to be realistic. I may not be around for much longer. In fact, I am probably going to die soon. I have nothing to look forward to but glorious, silent death. My future is dark and cold, like the ground I'll be buried in. Before I know it, the worms and beetles will be gnawing at my toes, my flesh will be consumed by angry fleas and maggots, and I'll carry no memory of this accursed existence with me.
Even so, I'm playing it smart! With Grim Reaper Life Insurance, I pay only 2 cents a day for my policy! In return, my dependents can rely on the full tort, maximum coverage, ultimate power plan of seven dollars and thirty cents to cover expenses associated with the disposing of my anguished earthly remains before the rigor mortis and putrescence become too much to bear! They even provide a free coffin made from state-of-the-art cardboard--the same material NASA astronauts use to ship packages! I can "rest in peace" knowing that my final expenses cost my family nothing, and required very little effort on my part! Thanks, Grim Reaper!"
--
Abe Takes On The Union!
Abe's back in a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and this time, he has an insatiable craving for Wacky Mac!
Ms. Whiny Von Coward, union steward, approached Abe Lincoln's cubicle from the South, with the rest of Napoleon's troops (the ones that weren't massacred at the Battle of No-Water-In-The-Loo). "Oh, Mr. Lincoln, I left some pamphlets on your chair. I hope you've had time to read them! My name is Whiny VonCoward, and I'm the Union steward here! You should think about joining the Union!"
An eyebrow was raised somewhere in the vicinity of Abe's upper cranial area. "Join the Union?" He unleashed a chortle that would make a basenji jealous. "Join the Union?!! I OWN the Union, Miss Mallard. Now please stop bothering me with your inane peasantry babble, hmm? I have more important things to do than entertain your bothersome company."
"Um, I'm not sure I understand..." Ms. Von Chow-Chow sweated in her Pumas uncomfortably.
"Hmph." Abe snorted like the pig in Charlotte's Web right before Charlotte died. "I'm not surprised."
"I....well, anyway, the Union does many great things for the workers--"
"You're damn right it does!" Abe snarled, with his fist smashing into the nearest Confederate soldier it could find. "And all of it is thanks to ME, you hear?! TO ME!!! Now leave me alone so that I may devour this Wacky Mac in peace!"
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed from a sky blue to a burnt sienna, much like a mood ring would do if it were on the finger of a hippie going to California with an aching in her heart.
"WACKY MAC?!" John Adams exclaimed from the next paragraph.
"Did he say WACKY MAC?!" James Madison queried no one in particular.
"Stop yer yappin'! I'm tryn'a SLEEP!" no one growled in response.
"Yes!" Abe affirmed. "I have access to George Washington's secret personal stash!" He then basked in the Wacky Mac's warm noodley goodness.
"Oh, Abe!! Please, may I have some of the wacky mac?!" John Adams begged like a character ripped from a Charles Dickens novel.
"Shove off!" Abe yelled, top hat all askew. Then he turned to his bowl and grabbed a spoonful of splenda to make his medicine go down. "Oh, how this Wacky Mac dances on my palate like mexican jumping beans foraging through winter snows I oft' endured at my luxurious log cabin!"
Coughing ensued from Ms. Von Chowder's rude mouth piece.
"Oh, delightful. You're still here," Abe grumbled as he noticed Ms. Van Halen-o-ween standing across the room in the next building over. "My, you're quite insistent. If you weren't so bloody stupid, you might even not remind me of you, being myself." He paused for dramatics (and to blow his nose). "So, what were you babbling about?"
"Well," Ms. Gun Powder began again (and again), "I was saying how wonderful the Union is--"
"Yes, yes, I am fully aware of how amazing a job I've been doing, but it's no good being all sycophantic about it," Abe yawned. "For even when I wake up on-the-morrow, I will still detest you mightily. Now, what is it that you do?"
"Well," Ms. Von Klown muttered like a vater (chur-man choke), "I call meetings and--"
"OH!" Abe interrupted, "So you're one of those Continental Congressmen! I should have known by the terrible wig you're wearing! Don't you realize that the quarter-inch rear pigtail twist is out of fashion?"
"Um.." Ms. Def Con Five was completely defeated and simply crawled away on all fours. John Adams saw his chance. He leaped for the unguarded bowl of Wacky Mac sitting on Abe's desk. Success! If only the same could be said for this story.
---
In the CD player now: Fugazi's 13 Songs
Most Annoying Song of the Day: Crimson and Clover by Tommy James and the Shondells
Most Annoying Song of Yestersnow: Crystal Blue Persuasion by Tommy James and the Shondells
Most Annoying Song of Last Month: Anything by Tommy James and the Shondells
103% of poodles are ugly.
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4 comments:
The poodle comment was low. In retaliation, I'm putting your life insurance hawker in a nursing home -- they'll take that $7 when she dies (as it's not in a irrevocable burial fund) and leave her to be buried in BURLAP! Ha!
Which H:LOTS episode was it where Meldrick and Crosetti get the Black Widow case? The one they exhume one of her husbands' bodies and it turns out to be the wrong guy?
For further updates on my life (and an example of how to breach confidentiality in the digital age) see www.livejournal.com/users/sliad89 .
--S.
Dr. A. Gonzo says:
Look, the truth about oodles of poodles HAD to be brought to the public's attention! I'm sorry, but bichons DO count as one of the poodle clan! I didn't make the rules! Be glad I didn't mention anything about your desire to lick strangers' noses! EEK EEK!
Maybe we WERE using Jen(n) for her car? Hmmm....
-Wild EEP!
p.s.: The H:LOTS episode was Son of a Gun, you salami brain!
Salami brain!! I am most insulted on behalf of the Italian butcher population as a whole.
Speaking of Jen(n), she wrote me (two weeks ago, but you know how rarely I check my e-mail). She's planning on calling me soon. I shall let you know of any humorous incidents that come out of this.
Bichons are a Maltese derivative! Maltese are not poodles!
Ed Norton in Fight Club remarks: "The girl had done her homework!"
Let me just clear up this poodle thing right now! According to legend, bichons are derived from a long line of poodles, whose ancestors were the wimpiest wolves of their respective packs! Now, a breed like the noble dachshund, on the other paw, were derived from wolves (the non-wimpy kind) and the "majestic moose." In fact, one can notice the similarities between dachshunds and moose, for they are much alike, though moose have antlers and dachshunds don't, and moose are much larger than dachshunds.....and moose are vegetarians, but dachshunds are omnivores.......
Well, they both have fur coats.
Actually, that brings me to my next point: moose and dachshunds are related to Robert the Bruce!
IN CLOSING, as any chemistry nun will tell you, the dilution of the poodle-wimpy wolf line gave way to an entire gnu kind of breed: the lowly bichon!
As for Jen(n), she is derived from a long line of Democrats who can't eat beans because of their texture and who refuse to sit in the back seats of cars because they have an odd form of "back seat motion sickness."
This brings me to my next point: Robert the Bruce was not a Democrat, but a Shaolin monk who had an affinity for fur coats! If only William Wallace had known!
Carn't wait to hear the latest! Your site is depressing, by the way. I will comment on your site as soon as my computer will let me ("The things you own end up owning you."---Mother Theresa, a.k.a. Brad Pitt)!!! ARF!
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