Month: August 2016

How ya like my hat?

/ Jim McDonald / 2 Comments

Some of you might have seen this one. I want to get it in the archives.

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I was driving into a pretty ritzy housing development, when a couple of guys stopped me and said, “we don’t want your kind in here.”

 

I said, “What?” And he repeated himself, so I got out of my van stood in front of him and said, “What is my kind?”

 

He said, “an old beat up work van, long hair and torn jeans.” Even though I’m of Irish back ground, I gave him the Italian hand to chin sign for f*** you. I then pushed him backwards off his feet. This hat went flying off of his head in my direction. With no work at all I was able to catch his hat. While his friend was keeping his head from landing hard onto the blacktop, I had time to get into the van.

 

I made a donut in the intersection around them and as I was leaving, I yelled, “later guys.” Didn’t get the job, but I got the hat.

 

Just messin, paid a dollar for this Stetson at a local yard sale. It’s to small for my big head, so I gave it to a friend after the picture was taken.

Your three words, my little story 8-12-16

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

Jeanette’s words: skyscraper, scooter & dumpster

She was an adventurous young woman, but not enough to get a Harley. Her little SCOOTER was all the speed and weight she wanted to handle. She didn’t need anymore to get around her home town of Sloan. Her cute little open faced helmet put just enough air in her face to wake her up every morning. Great on gas and the basket hanging off the handle bars were normally enough to carry her groceries home.

While getting on her scooter behind the Doctor’s office she noticed something strange. On the other side of the DUMPSTER was a pair of shoes and they were on a pair of feet. When she went closer she stayed on her bike, because she could drive faster than run if she had to.

It looked like her friend Wally, but he was on vacation somewhere out in the desert. The body had scrapes, bruises and blood everywhere and it looked like it was thrown off of a SKYSCRAPER. However the closest building that could be considered a skyscraper was in Wilson and that was only a five story building.

She had no desire to get any closer, so she went back inside to get the doctor and call the sheriff. Doctor George came out with her and knelt over the body to check his pulse. They were waiting on the sheriff, when Betty walked toward the dumpster carrying a bag of garbage from the dinner. She saw the commotion and said, “what’s going on?”

Jeanette said, “this man is dead.”

“Who?”

How ya like my hat? Hughesville (true story)

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

How ya like my hat? Hughesville (true story)

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We moved to Hughesville from Lanham in ’65. The post office was at the center of town and if you blinked you would miss it. I attended fifth grade , played Pony League baseball, played Colt League baseball and met my first girl friend there. I lived on that farm till I married Mickey in ’72.

 

Our little town never had hats back then, so when I saw this hat at a yard sale my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. Two dollars bought this one and another similar one it. The “H” does stand for a Hughesville softball team. Too cool.

 

This picture was taken about a year and a half ago at the local Bed, Bath and Beyond. A guy that worked there took several pictures for me. When I was explaining to him that I wanted the pictures for my, “How ya like my hat?” gig, it was very apparent to me that he didn’t care.

 

Past, present & plans 8-11-16

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

Past

One of my cousin’s told dad that I was smoking and that brought on the talk. My immediate thought was, who squealed? Dad was very understanding and had a very gentle way of talking about it. However, only being nine it was easy to be scared of dad, but easier to be scared of the cancer he told me about. I had just started, so it wasn’t hard to quit.

Present

Today I was asked to sit on the board of the local Christmas in April organization. I feel truly honored. I asked my friend what would my duties be and he said in short, I would be an idea man. That’s right up my alley any more, especially since I have forty plus years experience in the construction field. This is a good way for me to stay in my trade of choice now that I’m disabled and can’t work in it.

Plans

I still didn’t walk today, but I think talking or writing about it will help keep me from ignoring it. I can very easily sweep it under the rug and bury my head in the sand.

Your three words, my little story 8-10-16

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

Martie’s words: finger, pickles & munchkins

Martie and her boyfriend were lounging on the couch, while her thoughts went to a wet willy. All of a sudden a familiar advertisement came on the television about, “The Wizard of Oz.” She remembers watching this show every year as a kid, the lions and tigers and bears, oh my, would scare her. Often she reminisces how beautiful Glinda was, which was the good witch of the north. However, what really tickled her was the interaction between Judy Garland the MUNCHKINS. She couldn’t stop laughing at the sound of their high pitched voices. She often wondered if they were children or midgets.

Her boyfriend turned to the left to get his water, when she made her move. She licked her right pinkie FINGER and stuck it deep into his right ear then wiggled it. He jumped away and yelled, “I hate it when you do that.” He dropped his water bottle turned to stick both hands in her underarms.

She screeched, “No, please stop! I won’t do it again! Pl, pl, please!”

“You say that all the time, then you…. Crap, my ear’s all wet.”

“Well it’s better than when you stuck those PICKLES in my nose. I still owe you for that.”

“Yeah, that was funny.”