Hi Kids,
Things are running true-to-form here, what with all the trouble over in the Holy Land. You remember Trudy Smidge, our next door neighbor? Her daughter Tiffany's in the Reserves and was just called up and had to leave her clerk job over at Dennison's Minimart. She couldn't even tell her mother where she was going--said it was all on a need-to-know basis. Well if Trudy don't need to know where her only child is, I don't know who does. Mr. Dennison says he's going to hold Tiffany's job for her, but you know good clerk jobs are a scarce as hen's teeth nowadays.
Your Uncle Jerry's taking it all in stride, as usual. I wanted to go Yeager's Hardware to stock up on duct tape and such after they issued that orange alert, but Jerry figured we could get everything we needed at the A & P. I don't know whether your Uncle Jerry's just cheap or lazy. Probly both, ha, ha.
Well, the A & P looked like a tornado hit. I guess everybody was taking that orange alert serious. The shelves was half empty, and if I hadn't of been along I guess Jerry would have us facing the nucular attack with four bags of pork rinds, three six packs of that generic beer he loves, a couple of rolls of plastic wrap and Scotch tape like we put on the Christmas presents. For whatever reason there was plenty of stove-top stuffing and tuna helper left, so I figure if the worst happens, we'll get by.
I asked your Uncle Jerry what he was going to do with all the plastic wrap and he told me about something he seen on that darn internet. You remember when I got him that computer for his birthday seven or eight years ago with the money we got from the settlement. He fooled with it for a while, but then lost all interest. About like a two-year-old.
Well, he dusted the thing off back in October and just fiddles with his old wang all night long. I ain't had a minute's peace. And you know I'm not as young as I used to be, ha, ha.
Anyway, after we come home, Jerry brings out one of them rolls of plastic wrap and tells me to wrap him up in it. Now money don't grow on trees, even Rockefeller's trees as your Grandma Truegood used to say. I says Jerry, have you lost your ever lovin' mind? He tells me the internet said you could wrap yourself in saran wrap and protect yourself from "bio-terror". Of course he had to buy generic plastic wrap. I swear the man's mother was marked by a name brand when she was carrying him.
But according to him the internet said one roll would cover an adult or two children under eight and we were going to wrap him up to see if it worked. You could of knocked me down with a herring as Uncle Dean used to say. But I knew once Jerry had a thing like that in his head there wasn't nothing but to see it through.
So he strips down to his long johns and stands there, legs all splayed apart, eating one of them bags of pork rinds, and I'm on the floor wrapping his feet in plastic wrap. And he says to treat him like he's Thanksgiving leftovers, cause he knows I wrap them good enough to keep til Christmas. And I'm steadily moving up one leg and then down the other, and up again to his waist, trying to judge how much plastic's left cause I don't want to run out before I get to his head. And all the while the frugal part of me's hoping maybe I'll have enough left over to wrap Mr. Jingles, our cat, you know, without having to open that other box.
So I get up to his chest and start on his arms and say to him, Jerry you can either be safe from bio-terror or keep stuffing your face with pork rinds so which one is it? Well he finally puts the bag down and lets me do his arms and hands. When I get up to his shoulders and around his neck he tells me that's far enough, because we'll have to get a gas mask for the rest. I have to say he looked pretty standing there, shiny all over like that angel we put at the top of the Christmas tree every year. I declare. I believe I could wrap a buffalo, if we ever barbecued one.
After a couple of minutes I seen he was breathing shallow and starting to break out into a sweat so I asks him if he was okay. He said it must of been the pork rinds coming back on him. He got the extra spicy kind cause you know how he likes them. Right about then I hear a noise that sounded like a low note on that sousaphone your cousin Dennis used to play in the high school band, and a bubble as big as a football blows up on your Uncle Jerry's back right around his waist. Them pork rinds had give him the gas. I wrapped your Uncle Jerry just like I wrap leftovers, so nothing was getting in or out.
Jerry says just keep calm and let him think. I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling him that his thinking is what got him into this mess, ha, ha. I seen he wasn't feeling any better and just about then I heard a couple more notes on the sousaphone again, if you know what I mean. That bubble on his back swelled up til he looked like one of them ninja mutant turtles your cousin Rayette's little boy Alec always wanted for his birthday, only all over silver instead of green, except a little around the gills, that is.
Well he was just a sweating and starting to sway back and forth, and if he hadn't of said something pretty soon, I was gonna call the fire department. But your Uncle Jerry has a brain storm. Run out to the garage, he says and bring him the rubber hose from his air compressor and that little pin thing we used to blow up your beach balls with during the summer. He says he's gonna stick one end of the hose out the back door and the other end with that little pin thing into the bubble on his back and bleed the gas off, but to hurry, and lets out a big groan that don't sound too favorable.
So I high tail it out the door, cause I know if your Uncle Jerry says something's in one place I'll have to search four other places before I find it. Just then I hear another groan and right after that a big boom. There was dead silence for a minute that had me a little worried. All of a sudden Jerry lets loose with a string of cusswords that made Trudy Smidge look out her kitchen window to see what was up. Next Mr. Jingles skittered out of that little door Jerry cut him in our back door, and right about then that family of bats we had in the attic for the last three years flew out from under the eaves of the roof like scalded dogs and we ain't seen hide nor hair since. Jerry's been threatening to get them out of there for ages and I guess he's finally made good on his word, ha, ha.
All in all it was just a big waste of plastic wrap. But you know that's the first time I ever did see bats in broad daylight. Tell your mother I'll drop her a line in a couple of days, and tell her the A & P has a sale on that Ann Page mayonnaise, if they ain't all sold out. Jerry says the internet says mayonnaise is good for radiation burns.
All My Love,
Aunt Louise
Things are running true-to-form here, what with all the trouble over in the Holy Land. You remember Trudy Smidge, our next door neighbor? Her daughter Tiffany's in the Reserves and was just called up and had to leave her clerk job over at Dennison's Minimart. She couldn't even tell her mother where she was going--said it was all on a need-to-know basis. Well if Trudy don't need to know where her only child is, I don't know who does. Mr. Dennison says he's going to hold Tiffany's job for her, but you know good clerk jobs are a scarce as hen's teeth nowadays.
Your Uncle Jerry's taking it all in stride, as usual. I wanted to go Yeager's Hardware to stock up on duct tape and such after they issued that orange alert, but Jerry figured we could get everything we needed at the A & P. I don't know whether your Uncle Jerry's just cheap or lazy. Probly both, ha, ha.
Well, the A & P looked like a tornado hit. I guess everybody was taking that orange alert serious. The shelves was half empty, and if I hadn't of been along I guess Jerry would have us facing the nucular attack with four bags of pork rinds, three six packs of that generic beer he loves, a couple of rolls of plastic wrap and Scotch tape like we put on the Christmas presents. For whatever reason there was plenty of stove-top stuffing and tuna helper left, so I figure if the worst happens, we'll get by.
I asked your Uncle Jerry what he was going to do with all the plastic wrap and he told me about something he seen on that darn internet. You remember when I got him that computer for his birthday seven or eight years ago with the money we got from the settlement. He fooled with it for a while, but then lost all interest. About like a two-year-old.
Well, he dusted the thing off back in October and just fiddles with his old wang all night long. I ain't had a minute's peace. And you know I'm not as young as I used to be, ha, ha.
Anyway, after we come home, Jerry brings out one of them rolls of plastic wrap and tells me to wrap him up in it. Now money don't grow on trees, even Rockefeller's trees as your Grandma Truegood used to say. I says Jerry, have you lost your ever lovin' mind? He tells me the internet said you could wrap yourself in saran wrap and protect yourself from "bio-terror". Of course he had to buy generic plastic wrap. I swear the man's mother was marked by a name brand when she was carrying him.
But according to him the internet said one roll would cover an adult or two children under eight and we were going to wrap him up to see if it worked. You could of knocked me down with a herring as Uncle Dean used to say. But I knew once Jerry had a thing like that in his head there wasn't nothing but to see it through.
So he strips down to his long johns and stands there, legs all splayed apart, eating one of them bags of pork rinds, and I'm on the floor wrapping his feet in plastic wrap. And he says to treat him like he's Thanksgiving leftovers, cause he knows I wrap them good enough to keep til Christmas. And I'm steadily moving up one leg and then down the other, and up again to his waist, trying to judge how much plastic's left cause I don't want to run out before I get to his head. And all the while the frugal part of me's hoping maybe I'll have enough left over to wrap Mr. Jingles, our cat, you know, without having to open that other box.
So I get up to his chest and start on his arms and say to him, Jerry you can either be safe from bio-terror or keep stuffing your face with pork rinds so which one is it? Well he finally puts the bag down and lets me do his arms and hands. When I get up to his shoulders and around his neck he tells me that's far enough, because we'll have to get a gas mask for the rest. I have to say he looked pretty standing there, shiny all over like that angel we put at the top of the Christmas tree every year. I declare. I believe I could wrap a buffalo, if we ever barbecued one.
After a couple of minutes I seen he was breathing shallow and starting to break out into a sweat so I asks him if he was okay. He said it must of been the pork rinds coming back on him. He got the extra spicy kind cause you know how he likes them. Right about then I hear a noise that sounded like a low note on that sousaphone your cousin Dennis used to play in the high school band, and a bubble as big as a football blows up on your Uncle Jerry's back right around his waist. Them pork rinds had give him the gas. I wrapped your Uncle Jerry just like I wrap leftovers, so nothing was getting in or out.
Jerry says just keep calm and let him think. I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling him that his thinking is what got him into this mess, ha, ha. I seen he wasn't feeling any better and just about then I heard a couple more notes on the sousaphone again, if you know what I mean. That bubble on his back swelled up til he looked like one of them ninja mutant turtles your cousin Rayette's little boy Alec always wanted for his birthday, only all over silver instead of green, except a little around the gills, that is.
Well he was just a sweating and starting to sway back and forth, and if he hadn't of said something pretty soon, I was gonna call the fire department. But your Uncle Jerry has a brain storm. Run out to the garage, he says and bring him the rubber hose from his air compressor and that little pin thing we used to blow up your beach balls with during the summer. He says he's gonna stick one end of the hose out the back door and the other end with that little pin thing into the bubble on his back and bleed the gas off, but to hurry, and lets out a big groan that don't sound too favorable.
So I high tail it out the door, cause I know if your Uncle Jerry says something's in one place I'll have to search four other places before I find it. Just then I hear another groan and right after that a big boom. There was dead silence for a minute that had me a little worried. All of a sudden Jerry lets loose with a string of cusswords that made Trudy Smidge look out her kitchen window to see what was up. Next Mr. Jingles skittered out of that little door Jerry cut him in our back door, and right about then that family of bats we had in the attic for the last three years flew out from under the eaves of the roof like scalded dogs and we ain't seen hide nor hair since. Jerry's been threatening to get them out of there for ages and I guess he's finally made good on his word, ha, ha.
All in all it was just a big waste of plastic wrap. But you know that's the first time I ever did see bats in broad daylight. Tell your mother I'll drop her a line in a couple of days, and tell her the A & P has a sale on that Ann Page mayonnaise, if they ain't all sold out. Jerry says the internet says mayonnaise is good for radiation burns.
All My Love,
Aunt Louise
posted by Primigenius at
4:14 PM
