*
*
Yesterday I was at Costco, buying a large bag of Purina dog chow for my loyal pet, Owen, the Wonder Dog and was in the check-out line when a woman behind me asked if I had a dog. What did she think I had, an elephant?
So because I’m retired and have little to do, on impulse, I told her that no, I didn’t have a dog, I was starting the Purina Diet again.
I added that I probably shouldn’t, because I ended up in the hospital last time, that I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IV’s in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially a Perfect Diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina Nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry. The food is nutritionally complete, (certified), so it works well and I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here that practically everyone in line was now enthralled with my story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care, because the dog food poisoned me. I told her no, I had stopped to pee on a fire hydrant and a car hit me.
Well, I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack he was laughing so hard.
Costco won’t let me shop there anymore. Better watch what you ask retired people. They have all the time in the world to think of crazy things to say.
Forward this (especially) to all your retired friends… it will be their laugh for the day.
*
A retired man went into the Job Center in downtown Vancouver, British
Columbia and saw a card advertising for a Gynecologist’s Assistant.
Interested, he went in and asked the clerk for details. The clerk
pulled up the file and read, “The job entails getting the ladies ready
for the gynecologist.
You have to help the women out of their underwear, lay them down and
carefully wash their private regions, then apply shaving foam and
gently shave off the hair, then rub in soothing oils so they’re ready
for the gynecologist’s examination.
The annual salary is $85,000, and you’ll have to go to Moose Jaw,
Saskatchewan.”
“Good grief, is that where the job is?”
“No sir, that’s where the end of the line is right now.”
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