Post Scripts – Brief Article
In the factory they make perfume. In the store they sell romance.
My mother taught me religion: “You better pray that will come out of the carpet.”
My mother taught me logic: “Because I said so, that’s why.” My mother taught me contortionism:
“Will you look at the dirt on the back of your neck!”
My mother taught me hypocrisy: “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times—don’t exaggerate!”
My mother taught me stamina: “You’ll sit there until all that spinach is eaten.”
A group of men were discussing how to deter possible home prowlers.
One said he kept a gun by his bed. Another said he had an elaborate alarm system.
The third, the father of six young children, said, “If a burglar came into our bedroom during the night, I’d probably get up, take him by the hand, and walk him into the bathroom.”
Mental Blocks Dept.
When I was with my husband, Howard, on a business trip many years ago, he carried his portable computer with him. The guard at the airport gate asked him to open the case. It was locked and the man waited patiently as my red-faced spouse struggled to remember the combination. At last he succeeded.
When I asked why he was so nervous, he blushed again. “Because the numbers are the date of our anniversary!” he admitted.
–Suzan L. Wiener
Mixing bleaches, stirring dyes,
Mustache wax; buttocks rise.
No more double of the chin,
Tuck the tummy, pull the skin.
Raise the eyelids, let’s begin!
Nip it, tuck it, stretch it, stuff it.
Women now are getting firmer,
Just so men can stop and stare.
Looking sharper, a little tighter,
Michael Jackson can’t get lighter.
“Please don’t make me laugh
I’ve got sutures, if you please!”
Yank it, suck it, pull `er up it.
“Where did Grandma go?”
“There she is at Chippendale’s.”
“That’s Grandma? Noooo!”
They can’t say she’s old and gray;
Surgeons sculpt the years away.
Make her blonder, it’s a breeze.
Dorian Grays? Surgeons’ fees.
Freeze frame; cameras, please.
Time knocks …
Delay in flights When doomed to travel, Make one’s vacation Plans unravel.
Hi-Ho Silver, Away!
A little boy visited his grandparents’ home and noticed his grandfather tossing coins into the kitchen sink.
“What’cha doin’, Grandpop,” the boy inquired, “throwin’ all that money down the drain like that?”
“Well, ya see, Son,” the old gent replied, “tomorrow we’re gonna go to the casinos at Atlantic City, and I need the practice.”
Subject to Change
Tact: Changing the subject without changing your mind.
Can You Dig It?
A new soldier on the battlefront asked his first sergeant in a nervous voice, “Sarge, where is my foxhole?”
“Why, Son,” replied the old sergeant, “you’re standing on it.”
“I am?” asked the bewildered youth.
“Yeah,” smiled the sarge. “All you have to do is throw the dirt out!”
–Tom R. Kovach
All You Have To Do Is Ask
A small boy was trying very hard to lift a heavy stone. His father, happening by and noting the son’s failure, said to him: “Are you using all your strength?”
“Yes, I am,” the boy exclaimed impatiently.
“No,” the father replied, “you are not. You haven’t asked me to help.”
Compliments are great antidepressants, and they have no side effects.
–Rose L. Korotkin
Cash & Caries
After completing a rather thorough examination of the patient, the dentist said, “You have to keep flossing and brushing very thoroughly, because you know what will happen if you don’t.”
“Yes,” the patient said. “It’s tooth or consequences.”
Getting the Drift
Advice is like snow; the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into, the mind.
Sage from the `60s
Remember the hippie father explaining to his son about the beards and the beads?
–Maynard Good Stoddard
A stranger inhabits my looking glass.
“Who are you, old woman?” I demand,
Pushing Play-Doh skin behind my ears,
“And what have you done with my face?”
The hapless hag won’t pack her bag. “Tell me, kiddo,” she asks, “What’s a nice girl like you Doing in a face like this?”
The Way We Were
Old-timers remember when “software” meant negligees.
COPYRIGHT 2001 Saturday Evening Post Society
COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group