To some, this should bring back some memories of travel a long  time ago when 2 lane roads were boring!!!!

For those who never saw any of the Burma Shave signs, Here is a quick lesson in our history of the 1930’s and ’40’s. Before there were interstates, when everyone drove the old 2 lane roads, signs would be posted all over the countryside in farmers’ fields. They were small red signs with white letters. Five signs, about 100 feet apart, each contain 1 line of a 4 line couplet…… And the obligatory 5th sign advertising Burma Shave, a popular shaving cream.

DON’T STICK YOUR ELBOW
OUT SO FAR
IT MAY GO HOME
IN ANOTHER CAR.
TRAINS DON’T WANDER
ALL OVER THE MAP
CAUSE NOBODY SITS
IN THE ENGINEER’S LAP
SHE KISSED THE HAIRBRUSH
BY MISTAKE
SHE THOUGHT IT WAS
HER HUSBAND JAKE
DON’T LOSE YOUR HEAD
TO GAIN A MINUTE
YOU NEED YOUR HEAD
YOUR BRAINS ARE IN IT
DROVE TOO LONG
DRIVER SNOOZING
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT
IS NOT AMUSING
BROTHER SPEEDER
LET’S REHEARSE
ALL TOGETHER
GOOD MORNING, NURSE
CAUTIOUS RIDER
TO HER RECKLESS DEAR
LET’S HAVE LESS BULL
AND A LITTLE MORE STEER
SPEED WAS HIGH
WEATHER WAS NOT
TIRES WERE THIN
X MARKS THE SPOT
THE MIDNIGHT RIDE
OF PAUL FOR BEER
LED TO A WARMER
HEMISPHERE
AROUND THE CURVE
LICKETY-SPLIT
BEAUTIFUL CAR
WASN’T IT?
NO MATTER THE PRICE
NO MATTER HOW NEW
THE BEST SAFETY DEVICE
IN THE CAR IS YOU
A GUY WHO DRIVES
A CAR WIDE OPEN
IS NOT THINKIN’
HE’S JUST HOPIN’
AT INTERSECTIONS
LOOK EACH WAY
A HARP SOUNDS NICE
BUT IT’S HARD TO PLAY
BOTH HANDS ON THE WHEEL
EYES ON THE ROAD
THAT’S THE SKILLFUL
DRIVER’S CODE
THE ONE WHO DRIVES
WHEN HE’S BEEN DRINKING
DEPENDS ON YOU
TO DO HIS THINKING
CAR IN DITCH
DRIVER IN TREE
THE MOON WAS FULL
AND SO WAS HE.
PASSING SCHOOL ZONE
TAKE IT SLOW
LET OUR LITTLE
SHAVERS GROW
HE SAW THE TRAIN
AND TRIED TO DUCK IT
HE KICKED THE GAS
AND THEN THE BUCKET !!
Do these bring back any old memories ? If not, you’re merely young!!! If they do – then you’re old as dirt. LIKE ME! Have a great day!

Here’s one more I remember that was near Jefferson City, MO on 50 highway.

A MAN  A MISS
A CAR  A CURVE
HE KISSED THE MISS
AND MISSED THE CURVE

An old man lay awkwardly sprawled across three entire seats in the movie theater

When the usher came by and noticed this, he whispered to the old man,

“Sorry sir, but you’re only allowed one seat.”

The old man didn’t budge.

The usher became more impatient.

“Sir, if you don’t get up from there I’m going to have to call the manager.”

Once again, the old man just muttered and did nothing.

The usher marched briskly back up the aisle, and in a moment returned with the manager.

Together the two of them tried repeatedly to move the old disheveled man, but with no success.

Finally they summoned the police.

The officer surveyed the situation briefly, then asked, “All right, buddy, what’s your name?”

“Fred,” the old man moaned.

“Where you from, Fred?” asked the police officer.

With a terrible strain and pain in his voice, and without moving, Fred replied…………..”the balcony!”

The Ocean – ALL you need to know!!!

1 – This is a picture of an octopus. It has eight testicles. (Kelly, age 6)

2 – Oyster’s balls are called pearls. (Jerry, age 6)

3 – If you are surrounded by ocean you are an island. If you don’t have ocean all round you, you are incontinent. (Mike, age 7)

4 – Sharks are ugly and mean and have big teeth just like Emily Richardson. She’s not my friend any more. (Kylie, age 6)

5 – A dolphin breathes through an asshole on the top of its head.  (Billy, age 8)

6 – My uncle goes out in his boat with two other men and a woman and some pots and comes back with crabs. (Millie, age 6)

7 – When ships had sails they used to use the trade winds to cross the ocean. Sometimes when the wind didn’t blow the sailors would whistle to make the wind come. My brother said they would have been better off eating beans. (William, age 7)

8 – Mermaids live in the ocean. I like mermaids. They are beautiful, and I like their shiny tails, but how on earth do mermaids get pregnant? Like, really? (Helen, age 6)

9 – I’m not going to write about the ocean. My baby brother is always crying, my Dad keeps yelling at my Mom and my big sister has just got pregnant, so I can’t think what to write. (Amy, age 6)

10 – Some fish are dangerous. Jellyfish can sting. Electric eels can give you a shock. They have to live in caves under the sea where I think they have to plug themselves in to chargers. (Christopher, age 7)

11 – When you go swimming in the ocean it is very cold, and it makes my willy small. (Kevin, age 6)

12 – Divers have to be safe when they go under the water. Divers can’t go down alone, so they have to go down on each other. (Becky, age 8)

13 – On vacation my Mom went water skiing. She fell off when she was going very fast. She says she won’t do it again because water fired right up her big fat @ss. (Julie, age 7)

14 – The ocean is made up of water and fish. Why the fish don’t drown I don’t know. (Bobby, age 6)

15 – My dad was a sailor on the ocean. He knows all about the ocean. What he doesn’t know is why he quit being a sailor and married my mom. (James, age 7)

If you didn’t smile at one of these, you need to find a better sense of humor.

Morris’ wife Rachel came home early and found Morris in their bedroom making love to a very attractive young woman. Rachel was upset. ‘You are a disrespectful pig!’ she cried. ‘How dare you do this to me — a faithful wife, the mother of your children! I’m leaving you. I want a get (Jewish divorce) right away!’

Morris replied, ‘Hang on just a minute Rachel so at least I can tell you what happened.’ ‘Fine, go ahead,’ she sobbed,’ but they’ll be the last words you’ll say to me!’

And Morris began — ‘Vell, I vas gettink into the car to drive home, and this young lady here asked me for a lift. She looked so down and out and defenceless that I took pity on her and let her into the car. I noticed that she vas very thin, not well dressed and very dirty. She told me that she hadn’t eaten for three days.

So, in my compassion, I brought her home and warmed up the potato latkes I made for you last night, the food you vouldn’t eat because you’re afraid you’ll put on veight.

The poor thing devoured them in moments. Since she needed a good clean-up, I suggested a shower, and while she vas doing that, I noticed her clothes were dirty and full of holes, so I threw them away
Then, as she needed clothes, I gave her the designer outfit that I gave you a few years ago, but von’t vear, because you say it’s too tight. I also gave her the sexy underwear that vas your anniversary present, which you don’t vear because you said I have lousy taste.

I found the sexy blouse my sister gave you for Chanukah that you don’t vear, just to annoy her, and I also donated those boots you bought at the expensive boutique and don’t vear because someone at work has the same pair.’ Morris took a quick breath and continued – ‘She vas so grateful for my understanding and help that as I valked her to the door, she turned to me with tears in her eyes and said, ‘Please, mister, do you have anything else that your wife doesn’t use?’

By Mick Kemper

I attended the 2002 US Senior Open at Caves Valley Golf Course in Maryland. While standing in a large crowd behind the 11^th green, I saw Arnold Palmer and his army round the corner of the fairway. He proceeded to hit his second shot onto the green about 30 feet from the hole.  As he reached the green and surveyed his putt, a spectator yelled, “it’s good, Arnie, pick it up.” 

Short putts are the Bermuda Triangle of golf. Just ask Scott Hoch who missed a 2 foot putt to lose the 1989 Masters. Missing a short putt is like fumbling at the goal line, dropping a pop up for the final out, or driving across the country to discover Wally World is closed. It is devastating.

Fortunately, amateur golfers have a vaccine for these blown putts, a get out of jail free card, it’s called a “gimmie”. It works like this. You are standing over a three foot putt to save par. Sweat is running down your back into your Tommy Johns and dread is creeping into your fragile psyche. You are agonizing over the proverbial question, “Do I ease it in or ram it home?” Then suddenly you hear those magic words, “That’s good, pick it up.” 

Accepting a gimmie is easy. Before your conscience sets in, quickly pick up your ball and slink off the green like a shoplifter exiting a convenience store. 

On the other hand, conceding a putt is more complicated than judging figure skating. Is the golfer worthy? Is the ball within the so called circle of friendship or just a distant cousin? What is a reasonable distance? An arms-length? A size 12 golf shoe? The height of your average circus midget?  There is no definitive rule. It is an art.

Some guys are generous and hand out gimmies like after dinner mints, sometimes even before the lag putt has stopped rolling. I love these guys. They are the Mother Theresa’s of golf.   

The other mothers of golf are the players who would rather donate a kidney than concede a putt. These are the guys who keep score in ink, who use a pocket calculator to split the lunch tab, and who believe a gimmie is an assault on the integrity of the game. Keep in mind, this is a game typically played by hackers in baggy shorts who have already taken two mulligans and several foot wedges just to survive the front nine. What integrity? 

So, if you struggle with administering a gimmie, here are some helpful guidelines:

Daylight Savings Time

The foursome waiting in the fairway has been watching your group blast from one greenside bunker to another, chunk chips, plumb bob, and debate who putts next. This is more frustrating than waiting for a senior citizen to back out of a parking space at Walmart or watching Joe Biden trying to complete a sentence. Just grab your balls and get off the green. All putts are good.

Code Blue

Your playing partner is on life support. He has landed in every bunker, splashed in every pond, and bounced off more trees than a squirrel on crack. You cannot bear to see him take another stroke. It is your civic duty to stop the bleeding and administer the Kevorkian gimmie. No range limitations in this case. If his ball is closer to the hole than to Akron Ohio, it’s good. Knock it away before he tries to hit it again.

Nothing at Stake

Pros putt out because they are playing for big money, coveted trophies, and trophy wives. For the average golfer, missing or making a short putt is more meaningless than a cup of decaf coffee or a political campaign promise. Give him the putt. There is no good reason not to.

Reward

The guy has stroked a winding 125 foot putt from just off the green to within three feet of the hole. Reward him. Let him pick it up. He earned it. It is better than watching him lip out, melt down, and try to disembowel himself with his putter. 

Human Kindness

Your buddy helps you tune up your car, mows your lawn when you are on vacation, and laughs at all your dumbass jokes. You owe him that testy three footer as a gesture of friendship. It is golf’s version of sending a fruit basket. 

No Mercy

If you are embroiled in a highly competitive match and your opponent has been talking smack, there is no such thing as a gimmie. Make him putt every putt. It’s Cobra Kai time, it’s time to sweep the knee.

Retribution

If the player is an obnoxious blowhard, an arrogant know-it-all, a despicable cheat, or a relative of Governor Cuomo, there are no gimmies. The circle of friendship only extends to the rim of the cup. 

Gimmies have been prevalent throughout history and occur every day of our lives. The Ruler of Greece once told famed sculptor, Calamitous, that his Venus di Milo statue was so beautiful there was no need to finish the arms. True. A gimmie is when a traffic cop pulls you over and only gives you a warning or when the grocery store clerk honors your expired coupon without price checking your Adult Depends over the store microphone. 

However, let the record show that not all gimmies are desirable. Last night, in the middle of a rare but passionate love making session, just as I was about to enter the launch cycle, just as I was pondering the proverbial question, just as I was about to ecstatically self-proclaim “you da man”, my wife stopped me and said, “That’s good, dear, pick it up.”

So, remember, if someone does not graciously accept a gimmie, do not be offended. Understand that sometimes in the game of golf and in life, to derive a full sense of satisfaction, a man needs to hear the rattle of the ball at the bottom of the cup. Sometimes, you just need to putt out.

This is something to think about when negative people are doing their best to rain on your parade. So, remember this story the next time someone who knows nothing, and cares less tries to make your life miserable.

A woman was at her hairdresser’s getting her hair styled for a trip to Rome with her husband..

She mentioned the trip to the hairdresser, who responded: ” Rome? Why would anyone want to go there? It’s crowded and dirty. You’re crazy to go to Rome. So, how are you getting there?”

“We’re taking Continental,” was the reply. “We got a great rate!”

” Continental?” exclaimed the hairdresser. “That’s a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly, and they’re always late. So, where are you staying in Rome?”

“We’ll be at this exclusive little place over on Rome’s Tiber River called Teste.”

“Don’t go any further. I know that place. Everybody thinks it’s going to be something special and exclusive, but it’s really a dump.”

“We’re going to go to see the Vatican and maybe get to see the Pope.”

“That’s rich,” laughed the hairdresser. “You and a million other people trying to see him. He’ll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on this lousy trip of yours. You’re going to need it.”

A month later, the woman again came in for a hairdo. The hairdresser asked her about her trip to Rome.

“It was wonderful,” explained the woman, “not only were we on time in one of Continental’s brand new planes, but it was overbooked, and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a handsome 28-year-old steward who waited on me hand and foot.. And the hotel was great! They’d just finished a $5 million remodeling job, and now it’s a jewel, the finest hotel in the city. They, too, were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us their owner’s suite at no extra charge!”

“Well,” muttered the hairdresser, “that’s all well and good, but I know you didn’t get to see the Pope.”

“Actually, we were quite lucky, because as we toured the Vatican, a Swiss Guard tapped me on the shoulder, and explained that the Pope likes to meet some of the visitors, and if I’d be so kind as to step into his private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, five minutes later, the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand! I knelt down and he spoke a few words to me..”

“Oh, really! What’d he say?”

He said: “Who fucked up your hair?”

…..now if you got a laugh out of this please pass it on to someone else…I did….still laughing.

Among the Maxine jokes there is a summary on how she was created and a photo of her creator. More from the gal everyone loves and admires, and you finally get to meet her creator.

Creator Of Maxine

John Wagner, Hallmark artist since 1970, says Maxine was inspired by his mother, his maiden aunts and his grandmother, the woman who bought him art lessons when ‘fill in   the pumpkins’ was about the extent of his art classes at St. John’s Catholic School in Leonia, N.J.

John remembers doodling as a preschooler and says both his grandmother and his mother encouraged his artistic interests. He eventually attended the Vesper George School of Art in Boston and landed at Hallmark as part of a new artists group. But it was the birth   of the humorous Shoebox Greetings (a tiny little division of Hallmark) in 1986 that added a new dimension to John’s professional life. The Shoebox way of seeing the world unleashed his talents and he created Maxine.

Why the name ‘Maxine’?  ‘People at Shoebox started referring to the character as ‘John Wagner’s old lady,’ and I knew that would get me into trouble with my wife,’ John says. The Shoebox team had a contest among themselves to name the character and three of   the  approximately 30 entries suggested ‘Maxine’. John says the name is perfect.  

John, who says he’s humbled by such acceptance of Maxine, admits he’s proud of her.  

Now you know the story of how Maxine came to be.

Father O’Malley, an Irish Catholic priest was transferred to Texas.

Father O’Malley rose from his bed one morning. It was a fine spring day when he rose from bed that first morning in his new west Texas mission parish.

He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the beautiful day outside. He then noticed there was a jackass lying dead in the middle of his front lawn. He promptly called the local police station.

The conversation went like this:

“Good morning. This is Sergeant Jones. How might I help you?”

“And the best of the day te yerself. This is Father O’Malley at St. Ann’s Catholic Church. There’s a jackass lying dead in me front lawn and would ye be so kind as to send a couple o’ yer lads over to take care of the matter?”

Sergeant Jones, considering himself to be quite a wit and recognizing the Irish accent, thought he would have a little fun with the good father, replied, “Well now Father, it was always my impression that you people took care of the last rites!”

There was dead silence on the line for a moment. . . Father O’Malley then replied: “Aye, me lad, ’tis certainly true, but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin first, which is the reason for me call.”

 

  

 

 

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