Larry also

me & lil' langley

Good Nightie Nurse

In America, we use poster boards, some permanent markers, and a lot of pacing and chanting. It’s called a protest. Or sometimes a picket line. Basically, they’re implemented in order to attract someone’s attention. To make a stand. Make a statement.

Let me say this again,...we use poster board.

In Johannesburg, South Africa, nurses are wearing pajamas and nighties to workto demand a higher allowance for buying uniforms. They’re using nighties.

Do you see the difference?

We’ve been taught the wrong way No wonder we work such long hours, for such little pay. We’ve never showed up to work in our Fruit of the Looms. I can’t wait to see the look on my bosses face tomorrow.

According to Itumeleng Molaplhegi, a nurse or something, “This campaign is the only way we can exercise our rights.”

Personally, I happen to agree with Itumeleng. How else could you possibly get more money to buy better shoes for your job? Maybe you could show up at work with hair rollers in your hair. Oh, I know, what about a poster board on a stick?

Apparently, nurses are only receiving about 54 rand ($9) a year for shoes. I bought my little 1 year old daughter some Keds the other day. Sixteen dollars. She’s not running track, or even cross country. She’s just trying to get from her room to the living room without pooping. Sixteen Dollars!

Health officials are concerned that this could potentially lead to a security problem, seeing as how just anyone off the street could walk in and pretend to be a nurse. Well, as long as they’re wearing a teddy.

I can’t help but remember the last time I was in the hospital. I had fractured my wrist. The nurse assigned to my room was the sweetest dear lady in the world. Fluffed my pillows, scratched my arm underneath the cast, and told me all about her sweet, angelic grandkids. Sweet Delores. In a thong.

It’s all I can think about now. Delores in a thong. And Delores is not an attractive woman. Incredibly sweet, but not lingerie material.

Maybe this is the real problem the health officials are worried about. Mr. Johnson comes in with a sprained ankle, sees three hundred pound Juanita in nothing but a red, sheer nightie and a stethoscope and now all of a sudden he’s having a triple bypass on his weakened heart.

The protest in South Africa began on Monday, and nurses show no sign of putting their clothes back on yet. Hospital officials stated that the moral of the janitorial crew has increased ten fold. Bob, janitor on floor three, has always had a drinking problem, and never shows up to work on time. Now with the new protest occurring, Bob is early every morning. He even
bought some new clothes. And shoes.

Officials are hoping that the forecasted cold front coming in this weekend will encourage the nurses to put their uniforms back on. If not, same said officials, will begin handing out “It’s a boy” T-shirts from the gift shop.

As Americans, I hope we have learned at least two things from this experience.

1.) We’re lucky to be Americans.

2.) Want a longer lunch break? Take your pants off.

Par for the Toad

Well, its in the news, so it must be true. David Tollner, a member for
the Northern Territory seat of Solomon, in Australia, stated that
"Australians in the country's Northern Territory should start smashing
cane toads to death with golf clubs and cricket bats in a bid to stop
the spread of the toxic creatures."

Yes, you read that correctly. If you're out golfing, or playing
cricket, or just casually strolling along the outback while armed with
a Louisville Slugger, and you happen upon a cane toad, you should
immediately commence to beating the living daylights out of said toad.

Apparently, cane toads are toxic. So toxic in fact, if a crocodile or
dingo ate one, it would die within fifteen minutes from cardiac
arrest. Poor crocodile has been sticking to his Atkins Diet for four
years now, looking fit, feeling firm, avoiding cholesterol, and yet
still has to go out like this. Massive heart failure.....from a little
toad. Can you imagine how the other crocodiles would talk about him
behind his back?

"Yesterday I ate a water buffalo, a kangaroo, some guy named Steve
Erwin, and a poodle. I never even had the farts. This one here eats
a little brown toad, and suddenly he's a pair of boots and matching
wallet. Wuss."

Tollner, has his opposition. No, not PETA, but the RSPCA, Royal
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. The Royal toad
savers. Maybe toads really do turn into princes after all.

The RSCPA wants to freeze the toads to death instead of bashing
their heads in with a 9 iron. Freezing, apparently is more humane.
But not however, fun.

According to the news report, "the toad population is steadily
marching toward the territory's tropical capital city of Darwin". I'm
sure that's a terrifying sight. I've seen toads hop. I've seen them
walk and scurry. Even seen them swim before they had legs, as
tadpoles. I've never seen one march. (well once, but that was in
Washington D.C., and it had purpose)

I'm surprised Osama bin Laden hasn't jumped on this golden
opportunity. Come on! Millions of marching, pissed off, toxic toads!
You know they're pissed off. Their own government is about to pass a
law to make it legal for people to randomly wack them in the head
with a Titliest putter. Then there's all that marching.
A smart, frugal, entrepreneurial terrorist, could really wreak havoc
with say, a boatload, or backpack full of pissed off, marching,
toxic toads.

Cane toads now number in the millions in Australia, so I'm sure the
sale of golf clubs and cricket bats will skyrocket. And maybe rain
suits also. Because surely, if you have a good swing, and you put your
shoulders into it, that toad is just going to make a mess...

Frogs and toads have always gotten a bad rap. First it was warts,
now heart attacks. What's next? Pick up a toad, and suddenly you're
struck with a permanent obsession to watch the Lifetime channel?
When does it stop?

Apparently on the eighteenth green.

Don't look now, ...there's a tornado outside!

Mobile homes and chicken houses make excellent targets for
tornados. Proof of this will be on the evening news. Tonight.

My morning started early. The weather radio's alarm went off around
five o'clock. Dreaded news for mobile homes, other wise known as
manufactured homes. (In this article, they will be referred to simply
as trailers)

It's a tornado warning.

My neighbors began knocking on the door by 5:03, still in their pj's
and un-combed hair. They had fled their trailers for the more stable
option of my couch.

The bad news was spilling from the television in the form of colored
graphs and charts. If you live in a red county, you're screwed. Orange
county, you're about to be screwed. If you're still yellow, move to
Rhode Island.

Channel 12...The Storm Watch Team. I'm not sure what kind of team
they really are. None of them wore uniforms.

We watched for about five hours straight. I learned a lot. I now know
the names of all the counties surrounding mine. I'm fairly certain the
weatherman has a crush on the news anchor. The female one. And
I know that Vipir radar is WAAAAAAYYY better than Doppler
radar. (but don't tell channel 3) I'm not sure what Doppler is, but I
think its a cool name. Maybe I'll name my next dog Doppler.

Tornados were everywhere. And yes, they apparently hate trailers
and chicken houses. I watched a news reporter trying to explain the
scenario to us worried viewers. It was extremely difficult for him
with all the chickens running loose around his feet. Chickens were
everywhere. In the mangled trees, in peoples cars and some
attached to peoples heads. Apparently, the house the chickens once
occupied, along with all their belongings, had flew the coop.

I couldn't help but imagine the dinner menu later that night at the
local Salvation Army shelter.

Watching the news footage filmed from a helicopter, you could see
where trailers had once been. Just a long rectangular outline in the
grass. The trailer has since become mobile.

Still watching the video, you can see right into peoples homes from
overhead, because the roof is gone. All I could think about was, my
ex-wife would have been so mad if that had happened to her house,
and she hadn't cleaned up in a few days. "Filming my house for the
whole world to see, and its a mess! Look at all that dust on top of the
entertainment center! Is that your dirty socks lying right in the
in the middle of the living room floor? Hey, there's the remote
behind the couch!"

Cars are overturned and destroyed. Homes have no wall. Horses
have no stables. Birds have no trees. Dogs have no houses. Schools
have no roofs. Churches have no steeples.

The weather was bad today, but at least no one was killed. Several
people were taken to the hospital, but as far as I know, no serious
injuries. For this, we are thankful.

Also, for the free chickens......Thanks

Happy Birthday Sister

Today, and every previous April 2nd for the past thirty-five years,
has been my sister's birthday. She's forty-six.

No, not really. She's thirty-five, which happens to be older than me.
I'm the baby of the family at a mere thirty-three. I suppose that's
why I still wear a diaper on Wednesdays and on most New Year Eve's.

Sister is a fairly decent person. I know, 'cause she told me so. She
once almost whipped this guy's butt in high school, simply because he
wanted to beat the living crap out of me, and frankly, I would have
let him, 'cause I can't fight. I personally think he was just pissed
off because his parents had the nerve and lack of caring people around
them, to name him Quinton. I'm sure today, he is a fine, outstanding,
tax-paying, loyal, janitor somewhere in this fine state.

But see, my sister is like that. She takes up for the people she
loves. I'm fairly certain she didn't vote for Bush.

However, my sister is also weird. I know a lot of people that collect
stuff. Arrowheads, baseball cards, stamps, welfare checks and beanie
babies. My sister collects snowmen. Not actual snowmen, because it
hasn't snowed here in Mississippi since March of '94, but snowmen as
in figurines, christmas ornaments, etc. She has a ton of them.
But I don't understand collecting something that you only bring out
once a year. (wait, that sounds like my sex life)

She always goes shopping for Christmas decorations after Christmas,
you know, 'cause they're discounted. Then, when you go to her house,
she has to show you her new snowmen. This one dances,...and this one
sings, and this one sings Silent Night, and this one farts bubbles.

I agree that they're cute..., they are. See, I agreed. But she has
four hundred of them. And 95% of them are male. I don't know why I
mention that, its just odd.

My sister has two kids. Both boys. And, unlike most mothers in
Mississippi, both of her boys have the same father. Which luckily,
also happens to be her husband.

Sister is a good mom. Her oldest son, he's five or fifteen, or
something, is a whiz on computers. He knows more than me. Unless you
factor in my skill at navigating through porn sites, then I edge him
out a little. But he's really smart, and extremely good looking. He
looks like me.

Her younger son is eight months old, and works at Home Depot. He also
happens to be really smart, even though he shows up to work in just a
diaper and the issued orange apron. His name is Quinton.

Happy Birthday Sister! You are much loved by at least nine people that
I know of. Way to go! Wait, I love you too. That makes ten!

Happy Birthday, and give little Quinton a kiss from Uncle Dave!