CrazyCatLady
Sous Chef
I do this stand-up routine at church, and it's a favorite every Wednesday night! I just do this thing like Garrison Keillor's "Lake Wobegon" in Prairie Home Companion on NPR. I live in a very small town where hardly anything major ever happens, and the names in this are names of church members. This was last week's offering:
"It's been a quiet week in Western North Carolina (I used town name here). Mrs. Grindstaff found a mole in her yard under the petunias and I had to dispatch three cats out there to deal with the offending creature. Now mind you, we all can take care of each other discreetly, but one of her neighbors, fearing a massive mole invasion, called the local volunteer fire department who sent out the HazMat team, then called the animal control officer at the sheriff's department.
When they arrived, they scared the cats, who ran up her oak tree. No one found the mole, but it took seven firefighters and a ladder truck to get my cats down. My cats then flew into Mr. Dickson's crawl space across the street because he took the door to the crawl space off to prop up his gas grill because it was missing a wheel.
Somehow the cats got into his house, and I had no idea he was raising chinchillas in the guest room. And these are no ordinary chinchillas; they are Russian fighting chinchillas and there was an awful fight in there. The cats got their tails whipped, and Mrs. Dickson opened the front door to let three hissing, growling, panicking cats out. When I got them back, one had a minor concussion, another had chunks of fur torn out, and all three required stitches.
I am here to say the next time any of you have a mole or rodent problem, just call Terminix. The vet relieved me of three hundred dollars and I'm...really....very...unhappy.
Last Sunday, as you know, was our potluck dinner here. As usual, Miss Fausold's spaghetti was the big deal, but she had some issues with the making of it. Her dog decided to become needy just as she was setting up her prep station in the kitchen, and he tripped her. She fell, taking the jar of her carefully preserved tomato sauce with her and it broke on the floor. As she was cleaning it up, the water for the noodles boiled over and left a huge mess all over her stove. Apparently the steam from the water on the burner set off her smoke alarm, and she didn't realize this, so she called the fire department, thinking the house was on fire.
When all that was cleared up, she began all over again to make the spaghetti when her sister called from Ontario about her daughter's baby shower. Max (the dog, who is a huge Irish Wolfhound) decided to help himself to the pan of tomato sauce and so she had to start all over again.
On Monday, Mr. McDonald decided to try his hand at some home improvements, and tried to put in a hardwood floor in the family room. He got all the materials and a nail gun. He was doing pretty well, and when it was half finished, he decided to go feed the birds and take a break. That was all well and good until his four-year-old grandson got hold of the nail gun and shot up the house. He's still pulling nails out of the floors and walls and ceilings and patching the holes. The hardwood floor will be finished sometime in July.
Yesterday, as you know, was the open meeting of our county commissioners. Mrs. Whitehorse attended it, and when it was her turn to speak, she told them the leash law should not just apply to dogs, but also to children who tend to use her circular driveway as a bicycle racing track. The commissioners were no help, and told her there are actually laws against putting children on a leash. Shortly after the meeting, she was on the phone with her landscapers discussing gates, spike strips, and removable trip wires.
Mr. Ziakas was also at the open meeting, where he raised the issue of too many squirrels in the area getting into his bird feeders and asked what could be done about them. The commissioners told him that this issue wasn't under their purview but that he could call the Nature Center and ask them. He did, and the Nature Center suggested that he buy squirrel-proof bird feeders. We all know he is very frugal, so he's still trying to figure out how to surround his bird feeders with razor wire without hurting the birds.
Last Friday, as you all know, the (name) bank was robbed. The perp got away with almost $200,000 and they had helicopters buzzing all around us looking for the the getaway car. Mr. Schenk lives close to it, but he has that pit bull that loves those huge basted cow thigh bones. His backyard is littered with them, so when the helicopters flew over, they noticed all these bones in the backyard and called for an investigation. A detective showed up, and was immediately mauled by the pit bull's tongue and slobber. He quickly determined that there was no problem after seeing that these were not human bones and that all the pit bull wanted was a belly rub.
That's all the news from (town); where the women are women, the men are men, and the children are....just children.
I have a lot of fun with this every week. Have you got a story about your town or city?
"It's been a quiet week in Western North Carolina (I used town name here). Mrs. Grindstaff found a mole in her yard under the petunias and I had to dispatch three cats out there to deal with the offending creature. Now mind you, we all can take care of each other discreetly, but one of her neighbors, fearing a massive mole invasion, called the local volunteer fire department who sent out the HazMat team, then called the animal control officer at the sheriff's department.
When they arrived, they scared the cats, who ran up her oak tree. No one found the mole, but it took seven firefighters and a ladder truck to get my cats down. My cats then flew into Mr. Dickson's crawl space across the street because he took the door to the crawl space off to prop up his gas grill because it was missing a wheel.
Somehow the cats got into his house, and I had no idea he was raising chinchillas in the guest room. And these are no ordinary chinchillas; they are Russian fighting chinchillas and there was an awful fight in there. The cats got their tails whipped, and Mrs. Dickson opened the front door to let three hissing, growling, panicking cats out. When I got them back, one had a minor concussion, another had chunks of fur torn out, and all three required stitches.
I am here to say the next time any of you have a mole or rodent problem, just call Terminix. The vet relieved me of three hundred dollars and I'm...really....very...unhappy.
Last Sunday, as you know, was our potluck dinner here. As usual, Miss Fausold's spaghetti was the big deal, but she had some issues with the making of it. Her dog decided to become needy just as she was setting up her prep station in the kitchen, and he tripped her. She fell, taking the jar of her carefully preserved tomato sauce with her and it broke on the floor. As she was cleaning it up, the water for the noodles boiled over and left a huge mess all over her stove. Apparently the steam from the water on the burner set off her smoke alarm, and she didn't realize this, so she called the fire department, thinking the house was on fire.
When all that was cleared up, she began all over again to make the spaghetti when her sister called from Ontario about her daughter's baby shower. Max (the dog, who is a huge Irish Wolfhound) decided to help himself to the pan of tomato sauce and so she had to start all over again.
On Monday, Mr. McDonald decided to try his hand at some home improvements, and tried to put in a hardwood floor in the family room. He got all the materials and a nail gun. He was doing pretty well, and when it was half finished, he decided to go feed the birds and take a break. That was all well and good until his four-year-old grandson got hold of the nail gun and shot up the house. He's still pulling nails out of the floors and walls and ceilings and patching the holes. The hardwood floor will be finished sometime in July.
Yesterday, as you know, was the open meeting of our county commissioners. Mrs. Whitehorse attended it, and when it was her turn to speak, she told them the leash law should not just apply to dogs, but also to children who tend to use her circular driveway as a bicycle racing track. The commissioners were no help, and told her there are actually laws against putting children on a leash. Shortly after the meeting, she was on the phone with her landscapers discussing gates, spike strips, and removable trip wires.
Mr. Ziakas was also at the open meeting, where he raised the issue of too many squirrels in the area getting into his bird feeders and asked what could be done about them. The commissioners told him that this issue wasn't under their purview but that he could call the Nature Center and ask them. He did, and the Nature Center suggested that he buy squirrel-proof bird feeders. We all know he is very frugal, so he's still trying to figure out how to surround his bird feeders with razor wire without hurting the birds.
Last Friday, as you all know, the (name) bank was robbed. The perp got away with almost $200,000 and they had helicopters buzzing all around us looking for the the getaway car. Mr. Schenk lives close to it, but he has that pit bull that loves those huge basted cow thigh bones. His backyard is littered with them, so when the helicopters flew over, they noticed all these bones in the backyard and called for an investigation. A detective showed up, and was immediately mauled by the pit bull's tongue and slobber. He quickly determined that there was no problem after seeing that these were not human bones and that all the pit bull wanted was a belly rub.
That's all the news from (town); where the women are women, the men are men, and the children are....just children.
I have a lot of fun with this every week. Have you got a story about your town or city?
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