Thursday 12 September 2013

"Tell them that's my story and I'm sticking to it."

"But mother, we did not corkscrew down to the landing strip.
We did not wear bullet proof vests or helmets.
The little girls were on the tarmac with flowers"

"Shut Up...
you ungrateful thrippet. If no one were here
I'd slap the goose-**** off your smarty-aleck stupid
mule face.  You look just like Eleanor Roosevelt when
she was 80."

"Mom, try to put everything in its place.  You don't have
anything to hide.  Just go in and answer their questions
and then we can go shopping."

"Hrrmmmph."

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Shut Up!"

"Is this another one of those things like the Vince Foster
briefcase with the suicide note all torn up?"

"Shut Up."

"Mother, why don't you just tell the truth?  It's always
easier.  Aunt Wilhamina always told me to just
tell the truth.  Good medicine tastes bad.
You always told me to say whatever you
can get away with.  But that doesn't
work as well as Aunt Willie's advice."

"Shut Up.
  And don't mention that old n***** woman's
name again.  I despised that old fat black blob."

"Mom, she raised me.  You were gone in the morning and
not there at night.   She  drove me to school and helped me
with my homework and piano, and how to make cookies
and spag...."

"Shut up!"

"Mom, why did you tell all those people that I was jogging at
The Battery by the Twin Towers?   Didn't you understand
that I was shacked....?"

"Shut up.
Why in the **** do I have to sit out here with all these...
these....people.   Don't they know who I am?   Damn, I
wish I had my detail back. I felt so much better when
I had my gun-men...that way no one could bother Huma
and me."

"Mom, people really think that you and Huma are
a little too...like...close.   She follows you around at
three paces like an Indian squaw."

"Shut up!
And Indians don't have squaws.  Native Americans
have squaws."

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And now, El Gringo Viejo's response to a story in the
New York Times informing us that folks in New York
City cannot have guests who come to the
apartment or house of an individual who
then prepares those visitors a special meal,
as though he/she is a gourmet serving a command
meal.  This has become a fad morphing into a
custom in Manhattan, but suddenly the
permitting office says....NO!!!!...Not
without a permit!!!
 
El Gringo Viejo (writing anonymously) says:
 
 
GeneralLee

     I wholeheartedly endorse Tonyloaf's proposal. Furthermore,
the permit dispensers should be required to have permit-dispensing
permits. How can we be sure that the permits that they are
dispensing are official permits unless they have a permit
from the permit dispensing permit department of permits?
It is just so dangerous.
    What about the Children? What about the
reverse-transgendered, male Eskimo lesbians
who still owe on their college loans?
    What about the people who need free birth
control pills in the women's powder-room
birth-control pill-dispensers for Miss Flukie?
     How many roads must Miss Flukie walk down,
before they call her a man?
The answer my friend is blowing

in the permit office for the dispensing
of permits to permitting authorities.
 
Whew!

 
 
Please notice that El Gringo Viejo had 17 likes and 0 dislikes.

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