$5.37. That’s what the kid behind the counter at Taco Bell said to me. I dug into my pocket and pulled out some lint and two dimes and something that used to be a Jolly Rancher. Having already handed the kid a five-spot, I started to head back out to the truck to grab some change when the kid, with the Elmo hairdo, said the hardest thing anyone has ever said to me. He said, “It’s OK. I’ll just give you the senior citizen discount.”

I turned to see who he was talking to, and I then heard the sound of change hitting the counter in front of me. “Only $4.68” he said cheerfully.

I stood there stupefied. I am 56, not even 60 yet? A mere child!  Senior citizen? Noooooooooo way!

I took my burrito and walked out to the truck wondering what was wrong with Elmo.   Was he blind?

As I sat in the truck, my blood began to boil.    Old?    Me?

I’ll show him, I thought.   I opened the door and headed back inside. I strode to the counter, and there he was waiting with a smile.

Before I could say a word, he held up something and jingled it in front of me, like I could be that easily distracted by some trinket! What am I now?    A toddler?

“Dude! Can’t get too far without your car keys, eh?” I stared with utter disdain at the keys. I began to rationalize in my mind!  “Leaving keys behind hardly makes a man elderly! It could happen to anyone!”

I turned and headed back to the truck. I slipped the key into the ignition, but it wouldn’t turn. What now?! I checked my keys and tried another. Still nothing. That’s when I noticed the purple beads hanging from my rear-view mirror. I had no purple beads hanging from my rear-view mirror. Then, a few other objects came into focus: The car seat in the back seat. Happy Meal toys spread all over the floorboard. A partially eaten dough nut on the dashboard. Faster than you can say ginkgo biloba, I flew out of the alien vehicle.

Moments later I was speeding out of the parking lot, relieved to finally be leaving this nightmarish stop in my life. That is when I felt it, deep in the bowels of my stomach: hunger! My stomach growled and churned, and I reached to grab my burrito, ….. only it was nowhere to be found.

I swung the truck around, gathered my courage, and strode back into the restaurant one final time. There Elmo stood, draped in youth and black nail polish. All I could think was, “What is the world coming to?”

All I could say was, “Did I leave my food and drink in here”? At this point I was ready to ask a Boy Scout to help me back to my vehicle, and then go straight home and apply for Social Security benefits. Elmo had no clue.

I walked back out to the truck, and suddenly a young lad came up and tugged on my jeans to get my attention. He was holding up a drink and a bag. His mother explained, “I think you left this in my truck by mistake.”

I took the food and drink from the little boy and sheepishly apologized. She offered these kind words: “It’s OK. My grandfather does stuff like this all the time.”

All of this is to explain how I got a ticket doing 85 in a 40-mph zone. Yessss,… I was racing some punk kid in a Toyota Prius. And no, I told the officer, I’m not too old to be driving this fast.

As I walked in the front door, my wife met me halfway down the hall. I handed her a bag of cold food and a $300 speeding ticket. I promptly sat in my rocking chair and covered up my legs with a blankey.

The good news was that I had successfully found my way home.

I became confused when I heard the word “Service” used with these agencies:

Internal Revenue ‘Service’

U.S. Postal ‘Service’

Telephone ‘Service’

Cable / TV ‘Service’

Civil ‘Service’

City, County & State Public ‘Service‘

Customer ‘Service’

This is not what I thought ‘Service‘ meant.

But today, I overheard two farmers talking, and one of them said he had hired a bull to ‘Service‘ a few cows.

BAM!!!  It all came into focus.

Now I understand what all those agencies are doing. I hope that you are now just as enlightened as I am

FROZEN CARBURETOR

People often complain about the police, but you rarely hear about the positive things they do, such as this incident involving a biker and a frozen carburetor.

Last January on a bitterly cold winter’s day, a North Dakota State Trooper on patrol came upon a motorcyclist who was stalled by the roadside.

The biker was swathed in heavy clothing and wearing a full-face helmet for protection from the cold weather.

“What’s the matter? asked the Trooper.

“Carburetor’s frozen,” was the terse reply.

“Pee on it. That’ll thaw it out.”

“I can’t,” said the biker.

“OK, watch me closely and I’ll show you.” The Trooper unzipped and promptly warmed the carburetor as promised.

Moments later the bike started, and the rider drove off, waving.

A few days later, the local State Troopers’ office received a note of thanks from the father of the motorcyclist.

It began: “On behalf of my daughter, Jill..”

This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular workout routine.

Dear Diary.
For my sixty fifth birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my college tennis team 45 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

MONDAY
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess – with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She took my pulse after five minutes on the treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so fast, but I attribute it to standing next to her in her Lycra aerobic outfit. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring! Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, all though my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!

TUESDAY
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air — then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda’s rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT-!! It’s a whole new life for me.

WEDNESDAY
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying on the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other shit too.

THURSDAY
Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late, it took me that long to tie my shoes. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the men’s room. She sent Lars to find me. Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing machine — which I sank.

FRIDAY
I hate that bitch Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me the M—– f—– barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

SATURDAY
Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

SUNDAY
I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my wife (the bitch) will choose a gift for me that is fun — like a root canal or a vasectomy.

A man doing market research knocked on a door and was greeted by a young woman with three small children running around at her feet.

He says, “I’m doing some research for Vaseline. Have you ever used the product?”

She says, ‘Yes. My husband and I use it all the time.’

‘And if you don’t mind me asking, what do you use it for?’

‘We use it for sex.’

The researcher was a little taken back.

‘Usually people lie to me and say that they use it on a child’s bicycle chain or to help with a gate hinge. But, in fact, I know that most people do use it for sex. I admire you for your honesty. Since you’ve been frank so far, can you tell me exactly how you use it for sex?’

The woman says, ‘I don’t mind telling you at all…

My husband and I put it on the door knob so it gets slippery and the kids can’t open the door!’

An old woman walked up and tied her old mule to the hitching post. As she stood there, brushing some of the dust from her face and clothes, a young gunslinger stepped out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. The young gunslinger looked at the old woman and laughed, “hey old woman, have you ever danced?”

The old woman looked up at the gunslinger and said, “no,… I never did dance… Never really wanted to.”

A crowd had gathered as the gunslinger grinned and said “well, you old bag, you’re gonna dance now,” and started shooting at the old woman’s feet.

The old woman prospector — not wanting to get her toe blown off –started hopping around. Everybody was laughing. When his last bullet had been fired, the young gunslinger, still laughing, holstered his gun and turned around to go back into the saloon.

The old woman turned to her pack mule, pulled out a double-barreled shotgun, and cocked both hammers. The loud clicks carried clearly through the desert air, and the crowd stopped laughing immediately.

The young gunslinger heard the sounds, too, and he turned around very slowly. The silence was almost deafening. The crowd watched as the young gunman stared at the old woman and the large gaping holes of those twin barrels.

The barrels of the shotgun never wavered in the old woman’s hands, as she quietly said, “son, have you ever kissed a mule’s ass?”

The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, “no m’am… But i’ve always wanted to.

There are a few lessons here for all of us:

1 – never be arrogant.
2 – don’t waste ammunition.
3 – whiskey makes you think you’re smarter than you are.
4 – always, always make sure you know who has the power.
5 – don’t mess with old women; they didn’t get old by being stupid.

1. Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggert have written an impressive new book. It’s called …”Ministers Should Do More Than Lay People”.
2. Transvestite: A guy who likes to eat, drink and be Mary.
3. The difference between the Pope and your boss is, the Pope only expects you to kiss his ring.
4. My mind works like lightning, one brilliant flash, and it is gone.
5. The only time the world beats a path to your door is if you’re in the bathroom.
6. I hate sex in the movies Tried it once. The seat folded up, the drink spilled and that ice, well, it really chilled the mood.
7. It used to be only death and taxes. Now, of course, there’s shipping and handling, too.
8. A husband is someone who, after taking the trash out, gives the impression that he just cleaned the whole house.
9. My next house will have no kitchen – just vending machines and a large trash can.
10. Definition of a teenager? God’s punishment…for enjoying sex.

And as you slide down that Banister of Life you should pray that all the splinters are pointed the other way…OUCH!

The end – and the beginning of 2019!!

There I was sitting at the bar staring at my drink when a large, trouble-making biker steps up next to me, grabs my drink and gulps it down in one swig.

“Well, whatcha’ gonna do about it?” he says, menacingly, as I burst into tears.

“Come on, man,” the biker says, “I didn’t think you’d CRY. I can`t stand to see a man crying.”

“This is the worst day of my life,” I say. “I’m a complete failure.  I was late to a meeting and my boss fired me. When I went to the parking lot, I found my car had been stolen and I don’t have any insurance.  I left my wallet in the cab I took home.  I found my wife with another man and then my own dog bit me.”

“So I came to this bar to work up the courage to put an end to it all, I buy a drink, I drop a capsule in and sit here watching the poison dissolve; then you show up and drink the whole thing!”

“But enough about me, how’s your day going?

COSTELLO: I want to talk about  the unemployment rate in America .

ABBOTT: Good Subject.  Terrible Times. It’s 7.8%.

COSTELLO: That many people  are out of work?

ABBOTT: No, that’s 14.7%.

COSTELLO: You just said 7.8%.

ABBOTT: 7.8%  Unemployed.

COSTELLO: Right 7.8% out of work.

ABBOTT: No, that’s 14.7%.

COSTELLO: Okay,  so it’s 14.7% unemployed.

ABBOTT: No, that’s 7.8%.

COSTELLO: WAIT A MINUTE. Is it 7.8% or 14.7%?

ABBOTT: 7.8% are unemployed. 14.7% are out of work.

COSTELLO: If you are out of work you are unemployed.

ABBOTT: No, Congress said you can’t count the “Out of  Work” as the unemployed.  You have to look for work to be  unemployed.

COSTELLO: BUT THEY ARE OUT OF WORK!!!

ABBOTT: No, you miss his point.

COSTELLO:  What point?

ABBOTT: Someone who doesn’t look for work  can’t be counted with those who look for work. It wouldn’t be fair.

COSTELLO: To whom?

ABBOTT: The unemployed.

COSTELLO: But ALL of them are out of work.

ABBOTT: No, the unemployed are actively looking for  work. Those who are out of work gave up looking and if you give up,  you are no longer in the ranks of the unemployed.

COSTELLO: So if you’re off the unemployment roles that  would count as less unemployment?

ABBOTT: Unemployment  would go down. Absolutely!

COSTELLO: The unemployment  just goes down because you don’t look for work?

ABBOTT:  Absolutely it goes down. That’s how it gets to 7.8%. Otherwise it  would be 14.7%

COSTELLO: Wait, I got a question for you. That  means there are two ways to bring down the unemployment number?

ABBOTT: Two ways is correct.

COSTELLO:  Unemployment can go down if someone gets a job?

ABBOTT:  Correct.

COSTELLO: And unemployment can also go down if  you stop looking for a job?

ABBOTT: Bingo.

COSTELLO: So there are two ways to bring unemployment  down, and the easier of the two is to have people stop looking for  work.

ABBOTT: Now you’re thinking like an Economist.

COSTELLO: I don’t even know what the hell I just said!

ABBOTT: Now you’re thinking like  Congress.

One day while riding his Harley a biker ran into God.  After a bit, God asked what was the one thing in the world he would want?  The biker thought for a moment and said; God, I would like a highway from California to Hawaii so that I can ride my Harley all the way.  God replied that it would be extremely difficult – 4,000 to 5,000-foot pilings and more.  So God asked, what his second wish would be?

The biker thought a little and said, God, I would like to know how women think and act.  God considered that request for a moment and replied, do you want two lanes or four!