Death Warmed Over

    Skunks, ducks, chinchillas, reptiles--when growing up, my younger brother Johnny loved all creatures great and small.  He never asked my parents, he would just show up with something, like the time he brought home the canary.
     He gave it to our ten year old sister, Bridget, on Christmas Eve. She couldn't find it the next day to put it away before the long ride to Gramma's house. Where could it have gone? She had been playing with it a minute ago...   Bathtime, fourteen hours later, she was taking off her pants and...out rolled the very dead canary that had apparently crawled inside that morning.
     14 year old Johnny, never one to overlook a financial angle, was going to return the bird to the pet shop demanding a refund for damaged goods. He mummified it in toilet paper, stashed it in the glove box sarcophagus of the family car and promptly forgot about it.  And never told anyone.  That was January.
     About Mid April when it finally warmed up in Minnesota, a curiously awful, necrotic smell began to permeate the car...  To which Johnny exclaimed, "Oh yeah!! I still gotta get my money back!"  Which didn't happen because our mom tossed out the dead body on West 7th Street in downtown Minneapolis...
©1/2012  Jana B Patrick

Bridget and Tweety

                                       

Retired but not tired

My husband Steve has retired after working for 35 years.  People ask him what he's going to do all day.  His answer? He says now he's going to find out what I do all day.  
(I had to tell George Clooney he can't come over anymore.)


It's true that I never seem to get much accomplished during the day.  One of Steve's first days home he had worked out at the gym, went grocery shopping, chipped ice off the driveway, sorted through emails, paid the bills, walked the dog, and then said, "Ok, now what do I do?"  It was 9 a.m.


Golf season is on it's way!


CONGRATULATIONS, STEVE!!!  THANKS FOR ALL THE YEARS OF HARD WORK.  WELCOME HOME!!!
THEN:

200 Minnesotans You Should Know 

Stephen Patrick

CEO and President, BWBR Architects

April 2010 |

Twin Cities Business Journal

                                                             NOW:                                                                                     

Two Minnesotans Who Love Having Grampa Home!

    Guiding Future Architect
         John's 3M Project
©1/2012  Jana B Patrick

Lost in the Translation

"Do you ever use crack pot?"
Our 27 year old  friends, Darren and Arlene from Northern Ireland, dropped their jaws when I apparently asked this question as part of our dinner conversation recently.  What I really asked about in my Midwestern American accent was a 'crock pot,' you know--a slow cooker.
It was cold and rainy when we arrived at their home, so I had on sweat pants over jeans.  Forgetting that 'pants' means underwear over there, I said, " I gotta take off my wet pants." Darren guffawed. 

 (The first time I made this verbal blunder was when Darren visited as an 11 year old thru a program to get kids out of Northern Ireland for the summer.  It was really hot and he was wearing 'trousers' instead of shorts so I said, "Darren, it's WAY too hot to wear pants, no one wears pants here in the summer; I don't wear pants,  Steve doesn't wear pants, the kids don't wear pants.  Pants are WAY too HOT." He blushed furiously and, strangely enough, I rarely saw any underwear in the laundry.)

When we visited a few years ago we were watching the telly and Arlene asked my daughters what kind of soaps (soap operas) we have in America.  Alana replied, "Chicken noodle?"

Arlene and Darren visited us while 'on holiday' (their word for vacation) 3 years ago, and at a store the cashier asked why they came to America.  "For a holiday!" beamed Arlene.  The cashier looked perplexed as Fourth of July was well past and Labor Day a month away, "What holiday?"  Now Arlene looked perplexed, and thought, 'what a stupid question.'  "THIS holiday," she replied.  I don't think the cashier asked her any more questions.
Lots of good laughs--the universal language!
©1/2012  Jana B Patrick


P.S.  Many years ago my friend Carol W. worked with some Irish kids that had come over to Minnesota for the summer.    "Jana .. I HAVE to tell you one story! I was talking, as best I could, with one Irish lad and all of a sudden he looked at me funny and leaned over the bar and planted a big "wet one" on me! I'm STILL wondering what  I said!"

Fruit Cake

While randomly searching the archives of a library, I came across a dusty tome from the 1770’s!  Inscribed on the front in quill pen was the word “SHRED;” but it had survived!  It holds minutes of meetings from around the time of the American Revolution!! 

Page 171 shows Patrick Henry’s famous December 1775 speech, and astonishingly, it has been altered from the original by (embarrassed?) historians!  The notes show that he actually said to Martha Washington (It was her turn to bring treats to the meeting) “Give me liberty or give me death, but DON’T give me no more fruitcake!”  …Amazing.  

And the Boston ‘Tea’ Party?  HA!  It was in reality 15 tons of—you guessed it—FRUITCAKE!!!  “You're darn tooting that King George will know WE mean business when he hears about THIS!” quipped John Hancock on page 234, "And we’ll call it ‘The Boston Fruitcake Party!’”  “Ya know,” broke in John Adams, “the harbor is really starting to fester; let’s dump in some tea bags to soak it up.” Ergo the historical mistake.

…Page 305 tells how George Washington thought we should be nicknamed 'The Great Melting Pot.’  “No!!”  Thomas Paine vehemently shouted, "It's only COMMON SENSE that we be called ’THE GREAT FRUITCAKE!!!’   “Don’t even go there, Tom,” Washington interrupted, “That would only encourage Martha to bake more of the vile things—they're so tough on the molars…I’m the boss, so ‘Melting Pot’ it is and that’s final, and this meeting is adjourned.  Harumphhh.”

I’m reading all of this and thinking ‘mini series,’ and just as I turn the last brittle page, the book crumbles and turns to dust.  I wonder if people will believe me?  Hollywood will.
©12/2002  Jana B Patrick
  

Extreme Hockey Gear Testing

I backed the Chevy Suburban over my hockey bag.


I was bringing almost 3 year old John, my grandson, to an ice rink.  I loaded up the bag with skates, helmets, elbow and shin pads; threw it behind the locked truck, then ran and got John loaded in. When we got to the rink I realized my mistake. One might think I would have felt us go over the bag, but, no, in four wheel drive Reverse is always bumpy.  
I feared the worst as I drove back home. With dismay I saw tire tracks covering the bag.  However, the protective gear did what it was suppose to, and looked none the worse for having 1 1/2 tons of truck roll over it.  Except my very old shin pads. The right one got a little squished but actually fits much better.  Naturally one wishes to look slim in addition to symmetrical while playing hockey, so I am considering  running over the left one as well.          ©12/2011  Jana B Patrick

Kids catch on fast--see above, then this is John's next time out on the ice!

What Men Do While Women Shop

Dear Mrs. Peabody,

Over the Christmas season, your husband, Mr. Percy Peabody, has become quite problematic in our store while you are busy shopping.  Several of our employees are seeking counseling. We cannot tolerate this behavior and our corporate lawyers are anticipating a feeding frenzy.  Complaints are as follows:

November 25:  Showed customers his driver's license and demanded to know whether they have seen this escaped convict.

November 26:  Set all the alarm clocks in Electronics to go off at five minute intervals.

December 1:  Made a trail of ketchup leading to the bathrooms.

December 3:  Walked up to an employee and told her in an official tone, "The vegetables are staging an uprising in Produce; Call Security NOW!'

December 5:  Tried on a pair of trousers backwards and asked an employee if they made his butt look big.

December 7:  Wearing pajamas and bouncing on a display bed, he asked customers to get pillows from Bedding and join him for a slumber party.

December 10:  When an employee asked if he needed any help he began to cry and demanded, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?!"

December 11:  Looked right into the Security camera, used it as a mirror and flossed his teeth in a disgusting fashion.

December 14:  darted about the store suspiciously while humming the 'Mission Impossible' theme song.

December 17:  Hid in a clothing rack and when customers browsed, called out, "Pick me!  Pick me!"

December 19:  Surveyed customers about preferences for traditional burial versus cremation and whether they would like an Early Bird discount.

December 21:  Went into a fitting room and yelled very loudly, "There is no toilet paper in here!"

December 22:  Wearing a 'New Employee' badge, asked a Hardware Department employee how well a particular saw cuts through bone.

December 23:  Dressed as an exterminator and while snapping two large rat traps open and shut, walked through the Grocery Department calling, "Here mousy, mousy, mousy--come to Daddy!"

December 24:  Posing as a Food Sampler, dared customers to take a bite of fruitcake while offering medical assistance and free hospitalization if things went badly.

How to Get Rock Hard Glutes

This is a November 2011 story from legitimate news sources--really!  MIAMI--A woman who wanted to work at a nightclub looked for someone who could perform inexpensive plastic surgery to give her a curvier body.  Police said what she found was a man posing as a female doctor who filled her buttocks with cement, mineral oil and "Fix-a-Flat' flat-tire inflator.
     Oneal-Ron Morris, 30, was arrested. The victim allegedly paid $700 for Morris to inject her in several sites on her derriere, pumping it full of the toxic material. The victim described some of the 'tools' Morris used as rubber tubing attached to a cooler. She felt enormous pressure and then intense pain but was assured it would be over soon. The wounds were sealed with Super Glue. She went to the hospital for abdominal pains.


Here's how I imagine the 'victim's' E.R visit went:

Victim:  My stomach really hurts, doc!

Doctor:  When did your symptoms start?

Victim:  Pretty much right after I had my ass filled with a cooler full of cement.

Doctor:  You had foreign material injected into you?!

Victim:  Oh no!  Not foreign!!-- Cement from the U.S.A. for sure--I seen the truck out front. Hey, maybe I'm sick from the Super Glue used to close up the butt holes--

Doctor:  Your anus is glued shut?!

Victim:  No!  haha--not THAT  hole, you silly doctor!--that would be pretty STUPID don't you think?! (Did you really go to Med school, Doc?)  Haha--no, just the holes where the concrete was poured in.  And doc? How'm I suppose to work at the club while hauling around a 500 pound booty?

Doctor:  Sorry lady, we can't help you here; I'm referring you to  
a Structural Engineer.  

And if I were you?   AVOID swimming.

Mug shots of  the 'DOCTOR'  that performed the 'surgery.'
  Transgender 'doc' Ron-Oneal Morris.
With a butt the size and weight of Texas, she really inspires confidence.

'Stone Butt Brand' Hypoallergenic Surgical Cement                           'Fix a Flat' Butt inflator

©11/2011  Jana B Patrick

Here is one of the articles written in Miami:

http://www.miamiherald.com/2011/11/18/2509172/doctor-accused-of-injecting-womans.html#ixzz1eVExztxU