Ma an' I jest had a bit o' fun bathin' ol' Spot. Ma din't end up with any wounds but I got myself what ol' Grissom calls defensive wounds on my hands an' wrists. Ol' Spot ain't really old. He's jest a pup about 16 months old. Up til today, he liked havin' a bath. We ain't sure what got into'm but - Lord Thunderin' - he went right nutty when Ma started in t' pourin' the rinse water over his back. Yeow! That's when I got wounded. We hadta keep at it til he was all rinsed an' he was tryin' t' climb up the tile walls an' jump outta the tub the whole time. I sed it was like bathin' a coyote an' I reckon that ain't far off.
That was an annoyance but it weren't an outrage.
Outrages are things like when the RCMP an' the prosecutin' lawyers spend 20 years buildin' a case an' it's full o' holes.
Outrages are when numbnutses like ol' Ezra go t' Montreal an' pass out pins sayin' the Charter's stupid. Canajuns love the charter an' even an Alien Albert like Ezra oughta known that.Outrages are when WalMarket gets fined fer usin' illegal immigrant labour an' makin' 'em work 7 days a week. Ol' Peter Jennings sez WalMarket'll make the $11 million in jest 22 minutes. Half a million a minute an' they're usin' illegals an buyin' everything they sell from commonist Red China.
Sumpin' that ain't an outrage but's been grindin' my gears fer a long while is these here sticky tickets that the IGA puts onta every damn tomater an' zucchini an' apple an' pepper. The IGA pays sum young boys t' stick all them stickers t' every damn vegetable jest so's the young girls who's runnin' the cashbox know it's a tomater an' not a grape.Way I figger, if they can't tell what kinda vegetable yer buyin', they shouldn't oughta be allowed t' handle the money.
Another damn annoyin' thing is I jest looked out my window an' I see there's sum snow comin' down. When's it gonna end?
Yores trooly,
JimBobby
7 comments:
"...jest so's the young girls who's runnin' the cashbox know it's a tomater an' not a grape."
Oh, great. Now you've done it. I can just see some 28 year old MBA in the Loblaws head office furrowing his brow over this blog, slapping his forehead, and calling down to the produce department.
"Higgins? I just realized we've only been addressing half the problem. From now on, have the produce boys label every grape as well."
"Oh, and while you're at it...open the cans of olives and do them too, would you? Yes, individually. Thanks."
Hey JB--
Her Nancy Whiteness has a great little tune you all might like called 'Stickers on Fruit' that you can download here.
It will make your outrage even more outrageous, but at least you'll be laughin' more.
With all the genetic modifying going on - soon all the food will look the same anyway. And the bar codes will be genetically implanted so there will be no need for stickers. And we won't need cashiers...we'll have self serve iris scan terminals that will be directly connected to the new North American Anti-Terrorist Conglomeration, so they will know if we are eating anything suspicious...
Whooee! Thankee fer chimin' in, fellers an' gal. That's a funny ol' song Nancy White done.
I reckon it's headed towards like in that song 'bout the year 2525 when we all get fed from a long glass tube. Shee-it! If I'm still kickin' in 2525, I don't care what they feed me.
JB
Who is that Princess Monkey, and why is she so sharp anyway?
Best regards from NY! » » »
Post a Comment