How ya like my hat?

How ya like my hat? Sombrero

/ Jim McDonald / 2 Comments

How ya like my hat? Sombrero

 

I finally made it to the motel after a three hour hiatus, caused by not one, but two flat tires.

 

Even though the road was lined on both sides by a mix of pine, spruce, maple and oak, the sun still found its way to my bald spot. It was a scorching, blistering and unrelenting heat and I had no protection for my head at all.

 

Not only was the sun playing havoc on my head, I only had one spare. I already put it on the right rear and moved to the front. I was in the process of taking the right front off, when I noticed a guy standing over me blocking the sun. I said, “Thank God.”

 

“No. I’m Steve.” The guy said with a grin.

 

“Thank you for blocking the sun. Do you have a 275/60R15 tire?”

 

He felt his chest, his front pockets, then his back pockets and said, “No, but I do have a hat for that burnt spot on your head.”

 

“I’ll take it. Can I get a ride to the nearest service station?”

 

“Sure.” I put both flats in the back of his truck and off we went.

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Just messin, paid a dollar for it at a local thrift store.

How ya like my hat? O’s helmet (true story)

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

How ya like my hat?
O’s helmet (true story)

 

I went to several yard sales today, hunting for a stylo pen for my LG phone. Never found the pen, but I did come across this jewel. She wanted fifteen dollars for it, so I knew I wasn’t going to buy it. It also looked too small for my big head.

 

While walking away, I realized I needed a picture of it. Knowing, it wouldn’t fit I put it on anyway. I asked her, “Can you take less?”

 

“Make me an offer.”

 

“A dollar.”

 

She looked at me and laughed. At the same time, I was hunting for a teenager to take a picture of me wearing it. I was surrounded by people my age or older, so I asked the guy at the next table. He asked me, “Is that one of them smart phones?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

He looked at me and laughed. “Sorry buddy, can’t help you.”

 

Now, two of them were laughing and the lady said, “A picture will make it twenty.”

 

I knew I had to find a make shift photographer in the crowd. Finally this guy said, “If all I have to do is push a button.”

 

“Yeah. Here it is, right here.” I said, as I was pointing at the button. He took a couple, I shook his hand and off he went. By this time anyone around me was either grinning or laughing.

 

I walked back to the table and sat the helmet back down, when the lady repeated, “With the picture it should cost you twenty.”

 

I told her, “Since it’s fifteen dollars, I have to ask my wife. I’ll send her this picture and and let you know.”

 

“You have to ask you wife?”

 

“Oh yeah. I learned my lesson.” Then I walked away.

 

True story, except I’m not married anymore. I did tell her that though, as an excuse to leave.

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How ya like my hat? Hooters hat

/ Jim McDonald / Leave a comment

How ya like my hat? Hooters hat

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After reading the sign in front of Hooters, upset wasn’t a strong enough word. It read, “We are temporarily out of wings.” The only reason we went there was, because of their World Famous Wings. You’re probably thinking, yeah right, you go there for the scantily women not the wings.

 

My girl fought me six ways to Sunday. She mentioned, “You only want to go for the short shorts and the bountiful cleavage.” Well, she’s was right. However, it was a lot of work convincing her otherwise.

 

“I really have a taste for spicy wings and they have the best in town.” I was faced with a dilemma, I couldn’t rectify. How could we still walk in and eat something else. My only recourse, was to turn to her and say, “Let’s go to Jack’s.”

 

She said with a devious grin, “They also have good burgers. Let’s go in.” I feel this a trick!

 

Just messin, paid a dollar for it at a yard sale.

 

How ya like my hat?

/ Jim McDonald / 2 Comments

My self and some friends of mine, went to Camden Yards several weekends ago to watch our O’s beat the yankees. That was our hope anyway, I had no desire to be around all those NY fans if they won. For years they would come down to our house and chant, “Let’s go yankees” That pissed me off to no end.

 

The first 25,000 fans would get a free checkered floppy hat. It was a crappy looking hat, but well made and it was an Orioles hat. We got there late, so when a number of us were walking down S Paca St. we didn’t know if we would get a hat or not. We met the rest of our “Baltimore Orioles Insanity” members at the ticket office on the back side of the warehouse.

 

When we were all together at the W Camden St. entrance we saw a small herd of yankee fans getting our hats and stomping on them. Some of them were even set on fire. We had a group of twenty, they had forty or so. The numbers didn’t ward off James, Jimmy, Matt, Jason or Brandon. I’m from the sixties, you know peace not war, so I was hanging back. When Brandon was heading into the fray he turned to me and said, “You comin’ old man?” I checked my crotch and noticed I did have a pair, so I followed him into the fracas. As we took on the yanks, other birds joined in and it wasn’t long before we had the numbers. They ran, we won and that’s how I got this hat.

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Just messin, got it for $6 on ebay.

 

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.