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Posts Tagged ‘Humor’

HEALDSBURG, CALIFORNIA – In February, a storage tank at a Sonoma County winery sprung a leak, sending thousands of gallons of Cabernet Sauvignon gushing into a creek and downstream into the Russian River.

The winery said the spill involved 20 to 25 percent of the contents of a 97,000-gallon tank, or about 20,000 to 25,000 gallons of wine.

State authorities said all wine in the tanks on the property was relocated, and the tanks are being inspected. The winery also assigned a contractor to pump wine out of the river.

Officials said the Russian River is noted for swift currents and muddy water in the winter, which will help dilute the spill. No fish kills have been reported, but the acidity of the wine is expected to kill some insect and plant life.

An investigation is underway to determine possible charges and penalties.

Winery

OWOSSO, MICHIGAN – A Michigan man who paid $20 for a used couch at a thrift store discovered more than $40,000 in cash hidden inside a cushion.

Howard Kirby bought the couch at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore for his man cave. He noticed that one spot on a cushion was lumpy, so he opened a seam to investigate. Inside were envelopes of cash totaling $43,170.

Although the money legally was his, Kirby said he wasn’t comfortable with keeping it. He got the name of the couch’s donor from ReStore, contacted her, and gave her the money.

The woman said the couch had belonged to her grandfather, who died recently. She said the grandfather always preferred to pay cash, but no one knew about the money.

To thank Kirby for doing the right thing, neighbors and local businesses re-roofed his house.

Couch money

ORLANDO, FLORIDA – An Orlando man on his way to go boating stopped at a 7-Eleven to gas up, but pumped the fuel into a fishing pole holder instead of the gas tank.

Police said the man pumped $60 worth of gasoline into the holder and onto the floor of the boat, then put another $40 worth of gas, correctly, into the fuel tank of his truck.

When the sloshing fuel in the boat was discovered, the station made an emergency call to Orange County Fire Rescue. A hazmat team responded and siphoned out most of the gasoline. No injuries were reported.

Fuel spill

 

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Problem

Read your mind

Campers

WWJD

 

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WATERLOO, IOWA — An Iowa man and a wildlife sanctuary are engaged in a legal battle over the custody of an adolescent coyote named Drifter.

Matthew Stokes said he found Drifter last spring after the young coyote became separated from his mother. Stokes said Drifter helps him deal with anxiety and depression, and he obtained a letter from his doctor claiming that Drifter is an emotional support animal.

Recently, when Drifter was roaming loose, a neighbor captured him and took him to the wildlife sanctuary. “This is not an emotional support animal,” said the director, who warned that Drifter will be dangerous when he matures and his predatory instincts kick in. The sanctuary wants to return Drifter to the wild.

As legal proceedings approach, Stokes has applied for a license to keep a dangerous animal and possibly get Drifter classified as an educational animal.

Coyote

CEDAR ISLAND, NORTH CAROLINA — Three cows thought to have died last fall in Hurricane Dorian recently were found living in the Cape Lookout National Seashore on the Outer Banks.

Park staff said the cows had to swim across five miles of open water to get there.

The three survivors were part of a herd of 20 wild cows living on private land on Cedar Island. No trace was found of the other cows or of 28 wild horses that lived with them.

A Park spokesman said the cows survived by foraging on the barrier island’s vegetation.

The cows are not accustomed to humans and flee when people get too close. Eventually, they will be sedated and returned to Cedar Island by boat.

Cows

WAUSAU, WISCONSIN — The Wausau City Council is expected to decriminalize snowball fights within the city limits, tweaking a 1962 ban on throwing dangerous projectiles.

The ban included snowballs to prevent people from throwing them at passing cars, but technically, it also bans snowball fights between mutual combatants. Reacting to a series of news stories making fun of the city, the council is expected to fix that.

In a TV interview, the Wausau police chief said his officers have never enforced the ordinance in cases of friendly play. “A fun snowball fight is a fun snowball fight,” he said.

The chief then turned and nailed the mayor in the back of the head with a snowball.

Snowballs

 

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Workee

Friends

Visiting

Enjoy

 

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This Just In

MENOMONIE, WISCONSIN — A BASE jumper who parachuted illegally from the top of a cellphone tower ended up calling the police for help after his parachute got caught on a guy wire, leaving him dangling 50 feet in the air.

Police said the 20-year-old man jumped from a 300-foot Charter Communications tower. After his rescue and treatment at a local clinic, he was arrested for criminal trespass.

Note: BASE is an acronym for the most common fixed objects from which the jumpers launch themselves: buildings, antennas, spans, and earth (mountains, cliffs). BASE jumping occasionally is permitted, but most jumps are done illegally by grandstanding knuckleheads.

BASE

LINCOLN, NEBRASKA A 19-year-old female set her apartment on fire while burning love letters from a former boyfriend.

Police said the woman sat on the floor of her bedroom and used a butane torch to burn the stash of letters, then went into another room to take a nap. She woke up later to find the carpet burning.

Firefighters quickly extinguished the blaze, which caused an estimated $4,000 in damage to the building. No injuries were reported.

The woman was cited for negligent burning.

Burn

SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA — A woman who dreamed she swallowed her engagement ring woke up to discover it actually happened.

The newly-engaged San Diego woman said she dreamed she was aboard a train and was approached by “bad guys” attempting to steal the ring. To thwart them, she swallowed the ring with the help of a glass of water.

When she awoke the next morning and discovered that the ring was missing, she called her fiance. They went to an urgent care clinic, where an X-ray confirmed the location of the ring. An emergency endoscopy retrieved it.

Ring

 

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Got it

Please wait

Unplug

Sorry

 

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My day usually begins when my dog Jake decides it’s time to get up, and he bounds onto the bed to roust me out.

The ritual is always the same. He briefly presents himself to be petted, then dives in to give my face a proper licking. Jake deploys his tongue with surgical precision. He alternates between the nose and whichever ear is closest, snuffling and wiggling joyfully.

Eventually, when I relent, he hops down and waits next to the bed, aquiver with anticipation. I roll out of bed, and we proceed to the back door so he can go outside.

One morning last week, as I stumbled into the living room and turned on the light, this sight greeted me.

Bridge-1

That banana was supposed to be my breakfast. Sometime during the night, Jake had swiped it from the kitchen counter.

Scowling, I pointed at the banana. “Did you do that?” I demanded. His hangdog look was a clear admission of guilt.

I opened the back door, let him out, and picked up the banana. It was perfectly intact. Not a single tooth mark.

I wasn’t too surprised. Jake has stolen several things recently and not harmed them.

A few minutes later, as I was seated in my recliner watching the news, a glass of milk at my side, I shared the banana with Jake and pondered his recent penchant for counter-surfing.

When I first got him, we had a lengthy period of adjustment in which he had to learn the rules of the house.

Rules such as no shredding of books.

Bridge-2

No stealing clothes from the hamper.

Bridge-3

No swiping things from the bathroom trash cans, no absconding with kitchen towels, no digging holes in the back yard.

Over time, he learned what is acceptable and what isn’t. He became, I’m pleased to report, a very good boy who rarely gets into trouble.

Then, a few months ago, the counter-surfing thing started.

The first time it happened was understandable.

As I was about to reheat a plate of leftover meatloaf, the clothes dryer beeped. I took a moment to deal with that, but, foolishly, left the plate of meatloaf unattended on the kitchen counter.

When I returned, the plate was not only empty, but wiped clean. Not a spot of grease remained.

And it was totally my fault. No dog should be expected to resist unattended meatloaf. I looked out the window. Jake was patrolling the back yard as usual. I let the matter go and found something else for supper.

A week or so later, I found a kitchen towel on my bedroom floor near the dog door. Jake was in the back yard on patrol again. At least he didn’t take the towel with him. I returned it to its hook in the kitchen.

A few days after that, I made a trip to the grocery store and, as usual, unloaded the bags and put everything away in the pantry and fridge. At least, I thought it was everything.

When I finished, I went into the bedroom and found this.

Bridge-4

Stealing the flour tortillas was especially gutsy. He snatched it from the kitchen counter while my back was turned.

Still, the package was intact. Undamaged. He could have ripped it open and gorged on those soft, delicious tortillas, but he didn’t.

What in the world was going through his mind? Did he steal the things, then suddenly think, Uh-oh! What have I done? and decide to scram before I found out?

Did he realize that eating the tortillas, or the banana, would be a serious breach of house rules? A bridge too far?

I’ll never know.

Jake and I communicate very well, as do most humans and their dogs. But, man, the limitations are maddening.

Bridge-5

P.S. One notable and rather amusing feature of Jake’s fur is the presence of a distinct letter “C” on top of his head. A while back, I decided it stands for canine, but counter-surfer works, too.

 

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Overcompensation

over·com·pen·sa·tion | noun: excessive reaction to a feeling of inferiority, guilt, or inadequacy, leading to an exaggerated attempt to overcome the feeling.

———

Back in the 1970s, we lived in Fort Lauderdale, and I was trying to get established in the advertising and PR business. Those first jobs didn’t pay much.

Money was tight, a constant worry. The boys didn’t really lack for anything, but the situation weighed heavily on me and Deanna.

Things eventually worked out, but those were difficult times. I am reminded of them some mornings when I step into the closet to choose a t-shirt.

Yes, therein lies a tale.

It’s funny how the mind works. Back in our Fort Lauderdale days, as I struggled to pay the bills, I seized upon a small, inconsequential matter to be irritated about. Or, rather, to pout about.

It was the fact that, while everyone around me — friends, family, neighbors — owned cool and interesting t-shirts, literally every t-shirt I owned was plain, unadorned white. (Men’s t-shirts typically were white back then, in case you didn’t know.)

I didn’t own any t-shirts that bore logos, cartoons, or printing of any kind because I couldn’t afford them.

Well, that’s not quite accurate. More correctly, the money was better spent in other ways. I guilt-tripped myself out of owning t-shirts that were fun and appealing — and it bugged me greatly to be deprived in such a manner.

Time passed, and our money situation improved. Eventually, I rewarded myself with a few interesting t-shirts — a Georgia Bulldogs here, a Led Zeppelin there — but only a few. The money still was better spent in other ways.

That line of thinking ended when I found myself divorced. Suddenly, I was on my own and answerable to no one but Rocky Smith.

Accordingly, I began collecting t-shirts with gusto. I did it because, by God, I deserved those t-shirts. Not a very mature reaction, but immensely satisfying.

In the years that followed, I started taking regular vacations out west. I came home with t-shirts from Grand Canyon, Flagstaff, Yellowstone, Death Valley, Moab, Durango.

When I went on whitewater rafting trips in Arizona and West Virginia, I got t-shirts from the outfitters — Class VI, Outdoors Unlimited, AZRA.

Later, when I bought an RV and began taking road trips, I picked up souvenir t-shirts from the Northwest, the Great Lakes, New England, the Gulf coast, and more.

And naturally, in addition to souvenir shirts, I bought others that caught my eye. These two beauties, for example.

T-shirt-1

T-shirt-2

Okay, so what’s the bottom line? How many non-plain t-shirts do I own today? About 40.

The number seems to have reached equilibrium and stabilized there. When a shirt wears out, it gets a second life in the rag box. Meanwhile, I’ve picked up a new shirt to replace it.

I freely admit that my affinity for the t-shirts is excessive. I am overcompensating for a perceived deprivation from long ago that, in fact, I inflicted upon myself.

On the other hand, I truly appreciate and enjoy my shirts. And, as obsessions go, this one is pretty benign.

On wash day, when the t-shirts come out of the dryer, I hang them up instead of folding them. That way, I can peruse them more easily in the closet.

The shirts take up about two feet of closet space. As part of my morning ritual, I go down the line and pick out a t-shirt to wear that day.

Am I in the mood for the Elvis mugshot t-shirt? The SpongeBob SquarePants t-shirt? The Roswell UFO Museum t-shirt?

Perhaps a shirt from Grand Canyon (I have several from which to choose). Or the Allman Brothers Summer Jam 1973. Or the NASA I Need My Space.

Aha! The Beavis and Butthead. Perfect!

Anyway, that’s the story of my t-shirt collection. I should add that it involves one great irony:

I always wear a button-up shirt on top, so nobody ever sees the t-shirt but me.

T-shirt-3

 

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Orwell

Your freedom

If only

Alzheimer's

 

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This Just In

WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND — A man who was lost at sea after being knocked overboard in rough seas saved himself by using his trousers as a flotation device.

German brothers Arne and Helge Murke were delivering a yacht from New Zealand to Brazil when the boom unexpectedly swung and knocked Arne into the water. High winds prevented Helge from maneuvering the boat to reach his brother, and the current carried Arne out of sight.

Arne took off his trousers, made knots at the ends of the legs, and trapped air inside, creating an improvised life vest. A rescue helicopter located him about three hours after he was knocked overboard. He was unharmed.

Luckily, I knew the trick with the jeans,” he told the New Zealand Herald. “Without the jeans, I wouldn’t be here today.”

Life jacket

SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO — A Delta Air Lines flight from San Juan to New York was forced to return to the airport after an unruly passenger ran down the aisle shouting “I am God!”

Delta officials said the 30-year-old man was aggressive and tried to enter the cockpit. He claimed he was God and said San Juan was going to disappear the following day.

“I came to save the world!” he shouted. “I am going to end terrorism!”

The man was restrained by flight attendants and passengers. The case was turned over the U.S. Federal Bureau of Investigation, and the flight continued after a two-hour delay.

Flight Disturbance

DEERFIELD BEACH, FLORIDA — Members of a Broward County family were awakened at 4:00 AM by a loud thud when something landed on the roof of their house. When they investigated, they found 15 pounds of frozen ham, pork chops, and Italian sausage.

The meat was wrapped in five packages. Two were found in the yard, and three were on the roof. The packages were addressed to William Land Service in Sarasota.

“I called them,” the homeowner said, “and the guy had no idea what I was talking about and probably thought I was crazy.”

No explanation of the incident has surfaced.

ODD Meat From The Sky

 

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