I was at a restaurant the other day and a friend asked if I'd mind picking up the check. Naturally, I obliged. But, the only person that even remotely resembled a Czechoslovakian was a large, blondheaded man in a corner booth and he didn't seem to enjoy the experience at all. And neither did his wife and kids. They ran screaming into the night.
It never fails. Any time I try to do a good deed, it ends up with "Hello, officer". I've spent more time in handcuffs than Charlie Sheen's escorts.
My parents wanted grandkids in the worst way but I told them I didn't want to get married. I explained that it would be more fun to play the field so, they put me in one. It was a ten-acre plot with a tall fence, gardening implements and several bewildered tourists. I spent sixth grade in there. I was lonely but, chasing the Pakistani pilgirm around with a ham bone helped kill the time. Fortunately, nobody ever noticed the grave-like mound. And the tomatoes grew like crazy there.
My doctor says I've got to control my diet. But, I don't know why. I eat like a bird. A condor. And I keep the highway clean. However, I decided to make an effort because he's such a grouch when I don't. For breakfast, I ate a small bowl of caterpillar soup and graham crackers dipped in jellied cabbage juice. For lunch, I had a small snow leopard casserole and celery. But, he still wasn't happy. I think it was the Virginia ham smothereed in chocolate sauce I had for supper. I tell you, there's no pleasing the man.
As you might have guessed, my body is falling apart so I decided to take advantage of what medical science has to offer. I got a tummy tuck, a face lift and a general body makeover. They were on sale at Wal-Mart. My surgeon, Sing Yow, noted that tucking a tummy like mine was going to be more like field dressing a buffalo but he would give it a shot anyway. I've never seen a person sweat like that before. He was grunting like a gnat towing a Hummer.
As to the face lift, he ended up having to employ a tripod used for lifting engine blocks. It broke down three times.
By the time I was finished, I had a flat tummy, skin tighter than a base drum in a Macy's parade and an expression of perpetual shock. Plus, there was a bonus.......double-d breasts and a third eye. There was some sort of special on.
I finally found the perfect girlfriend. Andrea. She's quiet and very agreeable. She seems to understand me and doesn't complain at all when I bring my pack of pet coyotes along on a date. Also, she's yet to tazer me, cut me, run over me, scream, faint or call the FBI. She's perfect. Well actually, she's dead.
No, I'm not carrying around a mummified body. What kind of person do you think I am? Besides, it was only once and got her back before the burial. Boy, some people have no sense of humor at all.
But, Andrea is different. She was cremated and put in a jar in the shape of Marilyn Monroe. What a babe. She was seriously considering a Joy Bahar jar but then, she would have spent most of her Saturdays sitting on a shelf, unloved. No fun in that.
I explained it to my psychiatrist, Dr. Demonic and he said I have the social graces of steamed goat entrails and honor him with the unbridled joy of a jalapeno enema. Obviously, he was in a bad mood so I thought he might want to go in the bathroom and play with my boa constrictor, Mr. Pinkie. It sure is quiet in there.
Shhhhh. They're probably napping.