To laugh 2014 away:
A Man's Age Determined by Trip to Home Depot
You are in the middle of a few projects at your home: putting in a new
fence, painting the basement walls, putting in a new garden. You are hot and
sweaty, covered in dust, lawn clippings, dirt and paint. You have your old
work clothes on. You know the outfit -- shorts with the hole in the crotch,
old T-shirt with a stain from who-knows-what, and an old pair of tennis shoes.
Right in the middle of these projects you realize you need to run to Home Depot for supplies.
Depending on your age you might do the following:
In your 20s:
Stop what you are doing. Shave, take a shower, blow dry your hair, brush
your teeth, floss and put on clean clothes.
Check yourself in the mirror and flex. Add a dab of your favorite cologne
because, you never know, you just might meet some hot chick while standing
in the checkout line.
And yes, you went to school with the pretty girl running the register.
In your 30s:
Stop what you are doing, put on clean shorts and shirt. Change your shoes.
You married the hot chick so no need for much else.
Wash your hands and comb your hair. Check yourself in the mirror. Still got
it. Add a shot of your favorite cologne to cover the smell.
The cute girl running the register is the kid sister to someone you went to
school with.
In your 40s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a sweatshirt that is long enough to cover
the hole in the crotch of your shorts.
Put on different shoes and a hat. Wash your hands. Your bottle of Brute is
almost empty, so don't waste any of it on a trip to Home Depot.
Check yourself in the mirror and do more sucking in than flexing.
The hot young thing running the register is your daughter's age and you feel
weird about thinking she's spicy.
In your 50s:
Stop what you are doing. Put on a hat. Wipe the dirt off your hands onto
your shirt. Change shoes because you don't want to get dog crap in your new
sports car. Check yourself in the mirror and swear not to wear that shirt
anymore
because it makes you look fat.
The cutie running the register smiles when she sees you coming and you think
you still have it. Then you remember -- the hat you have on is from Bubba's
Bait & Beer Bar and it says, 'I Got Worms '
In your 60s:
Stop what you are doing. No need for a hat any more. Hose the dog crap off
your shoes. The mirror was shattered when you were in your 50s. You hope you
have underwear on so nothing hangs out the hole in your pants.
The girl running the register may be cute but you don't have your glasses
on, so you're not sure.
In your 70s:
Stop what you are doing. Wait to go to Home Depot until the drug store has
your prescriptions ready too. Don't even notice the dog crap on your shoes.
The young thing at the register stares at you and you realize your
are
hanging out the hole in your crotch.
In your 80s:
Stop what you are doing. Start again. Then stop again. Now you remember you
need to go to Home Depot. Go to Wal-Mart instead.
You went to school with the old lady greeter.
You wander around trying to remember what you are looking for. Then you fart
out loud and think someone called your name.
In your 90s & beyond :
What's a home deep hoe? Something for my garden? Where am I? Who am I? Why
am I reading this?
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FARM KID - in the Army
Dear Ma and Pa,
I am well. Hope you are. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer the Army beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.
I was restless at first because you get to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m. But I am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot, and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay - Practically nothing.
Men got to shave but it is not so bad, there's warm water. Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie and other regular food, but tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food, plus yours, holds you until noon when you get fed again. It's no wonder these city boys can't walk much.
We go on 'route marches,' which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it's not my place to tell him different. A 'route march' is about as far as to our mailbox at home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.
The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The Captain is like the school board. Majors and Colonels just ride around and frown. They don't bother you none.
This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don't know why.. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don't move, and it ain't shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. Al l you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don't even load your own cartridges They come in boxes.
Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy. It ain't like fighting with that ole bull at home. I'm about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake .. I only beat him once... He joined up the same time as me, but I'm only 5'6' and 130 pounds and he's 6'8' and near 300 pounds dry.
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding in.
Your loving daughter ,
Alice
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:dance:
kay:
