There Is Nothing Here About Anything

Carolina Sister to Administrator of The Home: "There's a pervert at our table."

Administrator, seeing no pervert nowhere: "I'll take care of it."

Hazel Nutt to Administrator: "There's STILL a pervert at our table."

Administrator investigates, discovers Lugnut Crabb under the table.

Administrator: "Lugnut, explain yourself."

Lugnut: "I lost my toupee. I thought I had it twice, but mine is parted on the side."

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More goodies about good Ol' Hoss:

51. My lucky number is 5. I have never had any luck associated with the number 5, or 55, or 555, or any other permutations, such as five, four fingers and a thumb, one-fourth of all digits with phalanges, etc. But everybody needs a lucky number, so I'm lucky to have one. Lots of people don't, and they haven't won the lottery.

52. I was always enamored of words. As an eighth grader I decided to read the entire dictionary. I got through all the A's, but then basketball season started. But I still remember what abstruse means. (Later on, I became enamored of the E's, because I discovered "ergo" and "ecdysiast.") This is why I always voted for Funk and Wagnall's.

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My favorite word today is zymurgy. It was the last entry in a set of encyclopedias I bought off a smooth-talking door-to-door salesman. Zymurgy has to do with something or other. I could look it up but I don't care anymore. I got to be 74 1/2 years old without knowing what zymurgy is, so I guess not knowing is not fatal. In fact, that may be what's keeping me alive. This is why I always vote "none of the above."

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My scheme to Get Rich the Easy Way is sort of foundering. We had a meeting of the Inventions Committee in my Home for the Ancients and all we came up with was a couple of ideas for hybridizing. Well, actually, I came up with these ideas. The rest of the committee members were busy taking the raisins out of their Raisin Bran.

Here's what I got so far:

Hybridize owls to make howls. These could tell one-line jokes on the David Letterman show. Letterman would have to pay me rent.

Hybridize dandelions so that the flower was purple instead of yellow. I mean, as long as everybody is going to have dandelions, they might as well get 'em in popular shades. I know I could sell some to J & J's Mom because she loves purple. She's got a purple house, her interior walls are purple, her bruises from her fights with the butcher are purple...everything.

Today, J & J's Mom, who is Wendy, wrote a poem. It could be about the color purple. But it's not.

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Karen says:

When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.