Pure Grease: How to frost a car
June - 4 - 2009
Yet another friend of mine told me about how when he was young, he’d buy a used car for a hundred bucks or so, fix it up, then drive it until it fell apart. Then he’d just buy another one and do it all over again. This was, by the way, back in the 50s when you could actually get a car for a hundred bucks.
He said he’d usually just sand down the car and then put grey primer on it and drive it around like that. Maybe he’d paint it, maybe he wouldn’t. Probably not.
There was one particular car he just wasn’t satisfied with. He thought it looked a little bland with just the flat grey primer, so he thought, “What if I could shine it up a bit?” So he decided the best way to do that would be to rub Vaseline all over it. That would shine it up real nice.
“You know,” he told me, “The strange thing was that it was real nice and shiny, but everything stuck to it.”
Thanks, but no thanks
June - 4 – 2009
I have a friend who revealed to me that he once canceled Thanksgiving dinner because his sister-in-law had a boyfriend that no one could stand being around. It was simply easier not to celebrate Thanksgiving than to think of a way to un-invite him.
Chalk One Up for Dad
September - 24 - 2009
A friend and his little boy found their way to the restroom at the restaurant and decided to share a stall, that way they could be quick and efficient by doing their business at the same time.
The little boy exclaimed as they tinkled, “Wow dad, mine’s like a crayon and yours is like sidewalk chalk!”
The father chuckled as they left the stall. So did the man washing his hands at the sink.
Get a Grip
June - 4 – 2009
I once had a friend of Italian descent who decided to go to Italy to experience his heritage firsthand. He’d been reading through his Italian phrase book and felt that he’d attained a working knowledge of the language, and decided to test his new skills in a restaurant in Rome.
When the waiter asked my friend, in Italian, what my he wanted to drink, he answered, “Grippa.” The waiter asked, in Italian, “Are you sure?” My friend answered, “Si.”
What he got was a pair of pliers instead of the grappa he thought he’d ordered.