Why Bananas Grow Upright*

Not everybody has a buddy in France, like I do. I suppose a lot of people in France have buddies in France, but I'm not in France; I'm in Oregon USA, 9 time zones to the West. So Anne and I don't have coffee very often.

But she did let me take her picture. That's she on the left. I don't know who that is on the right. But Miss Kentucky oughta be taught the difference between butt cracks.

My buddy Anne is a translator. You got some past participling you need done, or some sentences needin' to be parsed, in English or French or Esperanto, or you want some swearin' done in Arabic, you let her know. She will relocate if your English is bad, which it probably is. Go say heidy ho.

+ + + + + + + +

Once again, it's Just Ask Judy time, when the oldster speaks:

The nice thing about being senile is you can hide your own Easter eggs.

The funeral home director goes up to the widow and says, "How old was your husband?" She: "He was 98, I'm 96." He: "Hardly worth going home, is it?"

My memory's not as sharp as it used to be. Also, my memory's not as sharp as it used to be.

+ + + + + + + +

Up there in Centralia, which is in Washington State, there is the Scatter Creek Kennel and Training Services. This is Jim Elder's homemade sign advertising his business:

"When you train here, sit happens."

+ + + + + + + +

My favorite word today is obscene. N., wash your mouth out. Def.: The turnout on the highway where the ob may be viewed.

+ + + + + + + +

(*I don't know why bananas grow upright. I just needed a snappy title for this piece.)