Hurricane Bubba

August 28, 1998

It’s hurricane season again. Hurricanes are large Atlantic storms that, for some reason, are given the names of relatives like "Bonnie" and "Andrew". This is because people respond to hurricanes exactly the way they respond to surprise visits from their relatives: they board up their houses and go somewhere far away until the danger passes. Where I am, of course, I never have to worry about hurricanes. Instead I have to worry about tornadoes and, my favorite part, the news coverage of the aftermath of tornadoes. The news coverage is always the best part because, given a group of well-dressed professionals, reporters will home in on the toothless guy wearing overalls and a baseball cap that says, "Guns don’t kill people–I DO!" as the best representative of the community. You may recall that my area had a tornado scare a few months ago. At a crucial moment, a weather report was interrupted by a DJ’s interview with a "local man" who had had a tornado go right through his yard. It went something like this:

Local Man: "It just went right through mah yard and picked up my daughter’s tramp’line, threw it against a tree, and bent it all to hail."

DJ: "How big was it?"

Local Man: "It was twelve feet by eight feet. But it’s all bent to hail. I don’t think it can be fixed."

DJ: "Well, at least your family’s safe."

Local Man: "Yeah, I guess, but I ain’t lookin’ forward to tellin’ my daughter what happened to her tramp’line." Someone I talked to this morning said, "I’d rather go through a hurricane than a tornado." Some people just don’t understand the value of good entertainment.

Enjoy this week’s offerings.


I can please only one person per day. Today is not your day. And tomorrow isn’t looking good either.

Someday we’ll look back on all this and plow into a parked car.

I don’t have an attitude problem. You have a perception problem.

Everyone has a right to be stupid. Some just abuse the privilege.

Last night I lay in bed looking up at the stars in the sky and I thought to myself, "Where the hell is the ceiling?!"

Indecision is the key to flexibility.

Having an out of body experience. Back in five.

I have not yet begun to procrastinate.

I don’t suffer from stress. I’m a carrier.


A married couple went to the hospital together to have their baby delivered. Upon their arrival, the doctor said he had invented a new machine that would transfer a portion of the mother’s labor pain to the father. He asked if they were willing to try it out. They were both very much in favor of it.

The doctor set the knob to 10 percent for starters, explaining that even 10 percent was probably more pain than the father had ever experienced before.

But as the labor progressed, the husband felt fine, so he asked the doctor to go ahead and bump it up a notch. The doctor then adjusted the machine to 20 percent pain transfer.

The husband was still feeling fine. The doctor checked the husband’s blood pressure and pulse and was amazed at how well he was doing. At this, they decided to try for 50 percent.

The husband continued to feel quite well. Since it was obviously helping out his wife considerably, he encouraged the doctor to transfer ALL the pain to him. The wife delivered a healthy baby with virtually no pain. She and her husband were ecstatic, as well as the doctor, because his new invention was a success.

When they got home, the milkman was dead on their porch.

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