ONE OF *THOSE* DAYS #2

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Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I'm lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal.

I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.

In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.

As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it."

"You know where the button is." I protested through the shower, "Reset it yourself!"

"I'm scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in? C'mon, it'll only take a second."

No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from Big-ol-scary-machinephobia, a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like telling Lloyd Bentsen Americans are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life.

So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence, but it was I who would suffer.

I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth.

It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws.

Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed.

Not even a well trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option.

Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered.

At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

If they had only known.

"Thinking: The talking of the soul with itself." ~ Plato ~

SEX

Everybody I know who has a dog, usually calls him "rover" or "spot"....I called mine *sex*.

Now sex has been very embarrassing to me....when I went to city hall to renew the dog license for sex, I told the clerk I'd like a license for sex.

He said, "I would like to have one too!"

Then I said, "She is a dog!!"....he said he didn't care what she looked like.

I said, "You don't understand, I've had sex since I was 9 years old."

He replied, "You must have been quite a strong boy."

When I decided to get married, I told the minister that I would like to have sex at the wedding. He told me to wait until after the wedding was over.

I said, "But sex has played a big part in my life and my life revolves around sex."

He said he didn't want to hear about my personal life and would not marry us in his church.

I told him everybody would like having sex at the wedding....the next day, we were married at the justice of the peace.

My family was barred from the church from then on.

When my wife and I went on our honeymoon, I took the dog with me. When we checked into the motel, I told the clerk that I wanted a room for me and my wife and a special room for sex.

He said every room in the motel is a place for sex.

I said, "You don't understand, sex keeps me awake at night."

The clerk said, "Me too!"

One day I entered sex in a contest, but before the competition began, sex ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just looking around....I told him that I was going to have sex in the contest.

He said that I should have sold my own tickets.

"You don't understand!!" I said, "I hoped to have sex on TV!!"

He called me a show off.

When my wife and I separated, we went to court to fight for custody of the dog. I said, "Your honor, I had sex before I was married....but sex left me after I was married."

The judge said, "Me too!"

Last night, sex ran off again. I spent hours looking for her. A cop came over and asked me what I was doing in the alley at 4 o'clock in the morning. I said, "I'm looking for sex."

My case comes up next Thursday.

Well, now I have been thrown in jail....been divorced....and had more damn troubles with that dog than I ever foreseen. Why just the other day, when I went for my first session with my psychiatrist....she asked me, "What seems to be the trouble?"

I replied, "Sex has been my best friend all my life....but now it has left me forever....I couldn't live any longer....I was so lonely."

The doctor said, "Look mister, you should understand....sex isn't man's best friend....so get yourself a dog!"

A farmer was called to serve on jury duty. During the questioning of prospective jurors the prosecuting attorney asked the farmer if he could convict someone on circumstantial evidence. The farmer responded, "No way in hell could I do that!!"

The attorney asked why he was so adamant in his answer. He replied that he once had a very bad experience with circumstantial evidence.

The attorney asked him to explain.

"Well sir", the farmer began, "I was out in the barn milking ole' Bessie one hot day and as I was milking her she kicked over the milk pail with her right front foot. The milk soaked my overalls and underwear, so I took them off, rinsed them out in the water trough and hung them out to dry.

Then, I got a piece of rope and tied her right foot to the floor. I sat back down and starting milking again and the silly cow kicked over the pail with her left front foot. So I tied that one down to the floor as well. She then proceeded to kick over the pail with each of her back feet so I tied both of them to the floor...

Well, I thought I had things under control until she whipped her tail around and slapped me right in the face.

Very annoyed at her antics, I moved my stool behind her, stood up on it, and as I was in the process of tying her tail to one of the rafters, wearing nothing but my T-Shirt and boots, my wife walked into the barn!!

So.....No Sir!! I do not believe in Circumstantial Evidence!!

"Personality is born out of pain. It is the fire shut up in the flint." ~ J. B. Yeats ~

BAD DAY

The worried housewife sprang to the telephone when it rang and listened with relief to the kindly voice in her ear. "How are you, darling?" it said. "What kind of a day are you having?"

"Oh, mother," said the housewife, breaking into bitter tears, "I've had such a bad day. The baby won't eat and the washing machine broke down. I haven't had a chance to go shopping, and besides, I've just sprained my ankle and I have to hobble around. On top of that, the house is a mess and I'm supposed to have two couples to dinner tonight."

The mother was shocked and was at once all sympathy. "Oh, darling," she said, "Sit down, relax, and close your eyes. I'll be over in half an hour. I'll do your shopping, clean up the house, and cook your dinner for you. I'll feed the baby and I'll call a repairman I know who'll be at your house to fix the washing machine promptly. Now stop crying. I'll do everything. In fact, I'll even call George at the office and tell him he ought to come home and help out for once."

"George?" said the housewife. "Who's George?"

"Why, George! Your husband!....Is this 223-1374?

"No, this is 223-1375."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I have the wrong number."

There was a short pause and the housewife said, "Does this mean you're not coming over?"