Gunfighter: A Modern Warrior's Life

Little Red, Riding in The 'Hood

Little Red was in trouble, and she knew it.  She had no business being in that L.A. neighborhood, especially at that time of night, but she thought it would be the fastest way to get to her grandmother's house on the other side of town.

The first sign of trouble came when her car's engine started to sputter, and then abruptly quit working.  "Damn it..." she said aloud, as she rolled to a stop on a residential street. "...why me, why now, and Why HERE!"  She tried to call for assistance, but since Little Red was a major phone-talker, the battery on her cell phone was as dead as the engine of her sporty little convertible (which was red, of course).  She got out of the car, and knocked on the door of the first house she came to... she didn't realize that she was in really deep trouble until she say the sign on the door that said:  "The Bayer's".  "Screw it, she thought , "...I need to call a tow truck."  When no one answered her knock, she tried again.  When no one answered the door, she knocked one more time, really hard... and when she did that, the door opened slightly... apparently, it hadn't been closed properly.  Red pushed the door open and walked inside... thoughts of breaking and entering never crossing her trust-fund-baby mind.

Upon entering the dwelling, Red was surprised at how clean the house was.  "I never would have guessed the people who lived in this neighborhood would take care of their houses... I mean, rilly!" she said aloud.  She went into the living room and saw three Barcalounger chairs, one of which was too small for her to sit in,( which really irritated her, because Red was vain, and she was all about having a tiny supermodel-skinny, bony ass), the next chair was somewhat large, but the third chair... well that was the biggest and the most comfortable looking.  To her mind the biggest meant the best so she decided to plop herself down in the big chair.  As Red settled into the large chair, she thought: "that's hot!".  She used the telephone that sat on the table next to the big chair and called Triple A, who told her (of course) that it would be two to three hours before anyone could could be there to render assistance.  Red hoped that she would be able to sit tight where she was, because as tidy as this house was, she was sure that the rest of the neighborhood HAD to be a scary place, despite how quiet everything seemed to be.  Since Red wasn't really a deep thinker, she dozed off, immediately.

While Red dozed in the big, comfy chair, the three members of the Bayer family returned home... they had been at their church , helping with the restoration of the building that had been damaged by a severe storm some weeks earlier.  As they pulled up to the front of their house, they noticed that an unfamiliar car was parked out front.  The father Bayer figured that another traveler had broken down in the neighborhood, which happened fairly often. 

All three Bayer's collected their things and walked towards their house, with the littlest Bayer leading the way, soccer ball firmly clenched in her arms.  When little Bayer pushed the front door of their house open (they never locked their front door, she immediately saw little Red and said:  "Mommy, look! There is somebody in our house, and she is sleeping in daddy's chair!"  The mother Bayer said "Oh dear, she must be the driver of that car!  Go get a blanket and put it on her."  By this time, the father Bayer had put his tools away, and came into the living room.  When he saw little Red, he said top his wife: "hew honey, who's that sleeping in my chair?"  His wife of many years told him that she thought it was the driver of the broken down car.  Father Bayer shrugged and went out front with his gas can and poured a gallon into the tank of little Red's snazzy car.  He turned the key (which had been left in the ignition) and the engine immediately coughed to life.  Once that was accomplished, he went back into the house to wake up his sleeping visitor.

The father Bayer gently shook little Red's arm to wake her, which was probably a mistake, because when she opened her eyes, she screamed, for standing in front of her was a very large man with a shaved head... who was wearing a kilt.  "Whoa" said the large man, as Red frantically tried to get her bearings "take it easy... you're safe here.  You must have had some night with your car running out of gas like that"  Red looked at him with slightly bleary eyes and said "out of gas?... like, that's all it was?  How could I be out of gas?  I mean, like I have people who do that sort of thing... of course, I don't pump my own gas... have you ever seen the people that go to gas stations?"

Mr. Bayer put Red back in her car, gave her directions to her Granmother's house, and sent her on her way.  Her tires squealed as she turned the corner and drove out of sight.   

Red hadn’t even said thank you.   All he could do was shake his head.

Some Days You Just Have To....

...back away.

No, I don't mean from blogging... I'm addicted, but what I meant was that from time to time I have to stop talking about Domestic Violence, Pictures, dog rescue, Larry Craig, George Bush, and the myriad things that I talk about here.

Sometimes you have to stop talking about soccer, rugby, sex, racial and sexual bigotry in the church... and outside of it. Sometimes I want need do do what I am doing right now: Sometimes you just need to take a minute to get down with your bad self!

(and believe it, I am a bad MoFo!, just like Shaft!)

So! You know this song, get out of your chair, and shake your tail feather a little bit.

You'll be glad you did.

That goes for you, too!

Yeah, you... the repressed lady in the Midwest!

Sing it! "Uh! It's gettin' hot in here!"

Lighten up, Francis! I'll bet even the ordained clergy reading this are dancing!

C'mon... You people in Australia... do it upside down! You New Zealanders, you friggin' blew the Rugby World Cup (and got beaten by FRANCE????) you blokes NEED to dance... do the Haka or something. Crikey!

"Uh!"

You, too, Canucks... you know I love you, and there is probably 14 feet of snow in Saskatoon, but dance anyway! Do it like Jean Chretien (because you KNOW Stephen Harper can't dance!)

"I like when you uh!-uh! With a little bit of uh-uh!"

See you tomorrow!

GF

Funny!

A panda walks into a café, sits down and orders a sandwich. When he finished eating, he drew a handgun and proceeded to shoot the place up.

When the panda finished shooting, he headed for the exit, and as he did, the confused, lone-surviving waiter amidst the carnage, asked “Why?”. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Well, I'm a panda,” he says at the door. “Look it up.”

The waiter turns to the relevant entry in the manual and, sure enough, finds an explanation. “Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves.”

Although I have heard this joke an untold number of times... it still makes me howl with laughter.