Putzing around on the interweb, I was looking at some advertisements from the 50s and 60s that are clearly misogynistic, showing women in subservient roles (ahh...the good old days). Anyhow, it reminded me of a funny incident. My house is old. It's built of cinder block, covered by stucco on the outside and lath and plaster on the inside. If I want to hang anything on the walls, I need to use a masonry drill, tap in an anchor, then the screw. The problem is that when you drill into cinderblock it produces fine, black powder that is a mess. I learned a trick. Tape a piece of heavy paper, folded in half, under the spot where you are drilling to catch the debris. Before learning this trick I had a brilliant idea. Have the wife hold up the end of the vacuum cleaner hose under the spot being drilled and it would suck up the debris as I drilled. I had to hang curtain rods. I got all set and brought out the vacuum. I called the wife in and I got into position to begin drilling. I was on the ladder, drill in place, and waiting. And waiting... I looked down and asked what the hold-up was. My wife, God love her, was looking puzzled at the vacuum and asked "How do you turn this thing on?" WTF? We've had this vacuum for over a year and she doesn't know how to use it? If I said my wife was a lousy housekeeper it might give you the impression that she does some housekeeping and doesn't do it well. That would be wrong. She just doesn't do any. I've since hired a cleaning service, which was probably her plan all along. Someday I'll tell you about the lawnmower incident. And the turtle incident.
I talked the wife into going to the doctors after noticing a suspicious spot between her breasts I'm now in her bad books after it turned out to be her belly button.
I love that cloud picture, Dawsy!! I wonder if someone composed it that way or if they saw the photo later on and thought--whoops.
I actually had this happen to me! When I was younger I had a Honda CB 360T. It was night and I was on an unlit back road. I came around a curve and there was a shovel laying across my lane. I didn't have time to swerve around it (I may have been exceeding the speed limit - I don't recall). I stood on the pegs, leaned back and yanked up hard, hoping to lift the front tire. It worked! The rear tire just bounced over the shovel's handle. However, when the front end came back down the left side of the handlebar broke off right at the riser - completely! I discovered what they mean by a "come to Jesus moment." Thankfully, the riser held the right side of the bar in place and I was able to come to wobbly stop safely.
