OH yes, where was I?

I have to explain a couple of the pictures from my Friday Fourteen. That’s what popped into my mind just now, not Thursday 13, but the Friday Fourteen. What, it’s not the Friday Fourteen? Well, it is in my mind, because that’s how my mind works, I think synonymously, and I have for many many years, and I most likely will continue to do so. Let me give you a few examples of how this works for me. Here is a joke that might offend a few, but hey get over it.

“What’s the line you hear most often in a gay bar?”
“Can I push in your stool”

I have actually told that joke this way,without meaning to.

“What’s the line you hear most often in a gay bar?”
“Can I get that chair for you?”


Sorta the same meaning, real close in fact, but it elicits a totally different response.
Wait here’s another one.

“What do you call 3 blondes in a circle?”
” A dope ring”

Here’s my way, again with out meaning to mess it up.

“What do you call 3 blondes in a circle?”
” A drug ring”

If the name of the store is Flower World, I call is Plant Land, If the restaurant is Pete’s I call it Frank’s. Once while playing Pictionary, the phrase was Dog Run , but the guessers were shouting KENNEL , YES YES YES, that’s it!!!…for a piece of pie, and the game. Wrong again, but I digress.

Back to the “thursday 13” the Satan tomato is actually from our garden. Sweet daughter drew the face and sweet husband took the picture, it’s framed and on the fridge. The ‘vomito de gato’ sign could make me a LOT of money if I actually produced the signs. Sorry folks I just found the picture and jacked it from the internet. Perhaps a few of you enterprising folks…
And you too can have Einstein write a personal message for you by simply going to this link.
More later, only 3 more get ups before we head off to Orlando

4 thoughts on “OH yes, where was I?

  1. You can buy the cat sign at the PETA catalog website. I can’t decide whether I want the sign badly enough to patronize PETA…

    And I thought the jokes were great – both versions.

  2. JOke tellers like you make life worth living. I’m not kidding. I love people who mess up jokes. I can never remember the jokes but always remember the ones that made no sense, which in turn becomes it’s own joke.

    Now none of this has aaaaaanything to do with the fact that I can’t remember jokes right. Nope, nothing at all.

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