Chapter 195

I picked up a hitch hiker last night. He seemed surprised that I would pick up a stranger and asked, “Thanks, but why would you pick me up? How would you know I am not a serial Killer?”

I told him the chances of two serial killers be in one car are astronomical.

A few more from gon2seed

What does a fish hook have in common with a woman’s vagina?

They both work better when wet.

On the way to work one morning I heard on the radio that a study proved that people who cursed, on average had higher intelligence than people who didn’t.

It didn’t take me long to decide that I worked with a bunch of geniuses

I must be an elbow!

The boss came by the worksite this morning and said we were behind schedule and he didn’t want to see anything but assholes and elbows. I looked around and all I could see was assholes.

I always suspected this!

Ingredients in Viagra

I just knew it!

I knew they would eventually release the ingredients in Viagra!

• Vitamin E 3%
• Aspirin 2%
• Ibuprofen 2%
• Vitamin C 1%
• Spray Starch 5%
• Fix-A-Flat 87%

The Stranger

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family.

The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on. As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche.

My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey.

But the stranger ... he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.

If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)

Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, the stranger never felt obligated to honor them.

Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home - not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our long time visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush.

My Dad didn’t permit the liberal use of alcohol but the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing...

I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked ... And NEVER asked to leave.

More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents’ den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.

His name? ... We just call him ‘TV’.

(Note: This should be required reading for every household!)

He has a wife now ... we call her ‘Computer’.

Their first child is “Cell Phone”.

Second child “iPod”.

And JUST BORN A FEW YEARS AGO WAS a Grandchild: iPad.