Working on My Pile

I had to replace a light bulb in the kitchen today, but Scamp told me I was too old and clumsy to be standing on a ladder. So, I asked a neighbor. Then I held the ladder while the light bulb was being replaced. I may be oldt, but I yam not stupidity.



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It has been quite some time since I worked on My Pile. Most of you know about Making My Pile. This is what I need to do to finance rental space on a rocket ship to carry my dead bones out to distance space, where I will double as a new planet. I figure I can reincarnate just as well from there as anywhere.

The source of My New Pile is a diet plan, which was suggested to me by those Texans in Singapore. This is not just any old diet plan. No sirree, this is the Ol' Hoss Genuine Pounds Off System with guarantees like you never ever heard none of.

The key is Ol' Hoss's Manipulative Balloon, which I am just now inventing. See, what you do is you get a balloon with a long tail (esophagus?) on it (patent pending). You swallow the balloon,leaving the end of the neck at your lips, then blow it up nice and plump. This will make you feel full, which is a nice fulling. This will last you a whole meal. Then when it's time for your next meal, you swallow the balloon, digest it, and eat a normal chicken pot pie or liver and onions. I expect some of my clients will want to eat two puffy balloons a day, they will be that good.

All that's waiting now is a formula for my digestible balloon. Any ideas you got, pass 'em along. I was thinking of corn sugar, but corn has gotten way too expensive. I figure we can get $2.95 apiece for these dudes.

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I recently chose a new primary care physician. After two visits and exhaustive lab tests, he said I was doing fairly well for my age.

A little concerned about that comment, I couldn't resist asking him, "Do you think I'll live to be 80?" (This is not asking too much since I am already 77 & 185/365ths.

He asked, "Do you smoke tobacco or drink alcoholic beverages?" I said "Nope." So he asked, "Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?" I said, "No, my other doctor said that all red meat is unhealthy."

"Do you spend a lot of time in the sun," he persisted, "like playing golf, boating, fishing or relaxing on the beach? Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have a lot of sex?"

"No," I said, "I don't do any of those things."

Then he looked at me and asked, "Then why do you give a shit?"

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My favorite phrase today is The Sound Machine. N., oh so melodious. Def.: The whistling, chanting and humming sounds you make when seated in a public lavratory. It is your way of telling a newcomer there is no lock on the door and he can't come in.