I told her many times, “Don’t put a gun to your head unless you intend to use it.”

5 SEP 2018
Professor Penwose, Kiwi

My Xwife was one of those Tea Toadying, Bible Thumping, bible readers who always spared no expense to show people she was, “God Fearing and Religious.” She wore it like a bell around her neck and eventually got a hump from the heavy cross she bore dangling from her gullet.
She read every form of Bible ever written and would often confound her friends by reading versions they didn’t even understand.
She even had a copy personally autographed by King James himself, and would go to bible readings and “accidentally” allow it fall open to the signed page and exclaim, “Oh look! Somebody wrote in Me Bible!”

She said there was a place in it about me, and that I would someday “inherit the Earth,” which she spoke of as a bad thing. I thought this rather strange coming from, “The Good Book.”

Since she viewed it as a bad thing, I decided to enrage her by anointing her as my beneficiary.
I only wish I could see the look on her face when she realizes she has inherited what I inherited.
We’ll see who is the meek one then!

I always tried to be copacetic, but she said I was, “So pathetic.”

I told her many times, “Don’t put a gun to your head unless you intend to use it.”
I had a loaded pistol on the table for such occasions. It occurred to me she might shoot me by mistake, so i had all the walls and furniture padded for ricochets and always wore a pair of those bracelets I got at a Wonder Woman convention.

She wanted me to buy up all the land around here because she heard the railroad was coming.

She said the voices in her head told her to climb the tree in our front yard on garbage days.

The mouse is missing?
I took a break and strutted my daily stroll. The mouse is no longer where it was when it was there? Chicken tracks were about and I fear fowl play. As a concerned citizen of the realm I felt it my duty to do something, so I did something.

I telephoned Scotland Yard.
I really do not understand those Scottish fellows and must have had a bad connection. He said it had to be on my end because it was never on their end. I told him of the mouse missing and he asked my location?
I told him and he switched me to a robot who said, “Sorry, That is out of Scotland’s yard, click.”
They hung up on me?

I telephoned the local magistrate. He was out to lunch.
I asked for someone else, “You don’t think they eat too?”

I telephoned a constable. He was available and eager to help.
I told him about the mouse missing. He asked a few questions.
I told him I had phoned Scotland Yard and figured they would solve the case.
“Are you kidding? They’re still looking for Jack The Bloody Ripper!”
He asked how long the mouse was missing?
I told him 4 days.
“I can’t help ya, Mate! It has to be missing for 24 days.”
“I thought it was 24 hours?”
“That’s for people. Mice is 24 days. Call me in a month!”

I knew the mouse would be long gone by then.
So I made a poster and posted it on posts…
MISSING MOUSE…
MAY BE DEAD…
BIG REWARD IF FOUND…
Call…I Put my Xwife’s phone number in big letters.
That should keep her busy for awhile.
I hope the callers remember to, “Press 3 for Patients.”

Penwose Out,
By George
NoPo8