Category Archives: Anecdotal

Anecdotal

Nuther Day Nuther Donut

Today was another day and that meant another donut for Bandolero. But, as luck would have it, the donuts had all been eaten over the course of the previous several days. No donuts. Damn. Consequently, Bandolero mounted his steed.

It wasn’t too long, sweating in the merciless sunlight, cursing the bestial flies, swatting the dag-nabbed gnats, until the object of Bandolero’s plan crested the horizon and sidled toward him along the dusty road.

At just the right moment, Bandolero sprang forth.

“Gimme yer donuts!” he commanded.

They did.

“Mmmmm, these are really good donuts,” Bandolero thought to himself later, back at his hideout.

Anecdotal

Outlaw In Honduras

Mi amigo, Outlaw, esta en Honduras esta semana.

And that’s about all the Spanish I’m gonna go for this time of night. He’s doing things I can only imagine and, for that, I have undying admiration for his spirit and energy. Sometimes I excuse my lack of spirit and energy on my health. The only way to find out if this is a valid excuse would be for Outlaw to come down with the same thing and see whether and/or how his spirit and energy were changed. I’m not sure they would change all that much. Certainly not so much as to shrink to the level of my own. part of my problem is the psychological fallout of the physical issues, and my psychology ought to be something over which I can exert a level of control, where the physical is not.

Anecdotal, Society

American Dream

A Somalian arrives in Minneapolis as a new immigrant to the United States.
He stops the first person he sees walking down the street and says, “Thank you Mr. American for letting me in this country, giving me housing, food stamps, free medical care and free education!”
The passer-by says, “You make mistake, I am Mexican.”
The man goes on and encounters another passer-by.
“Thank you for having such a beautiful country here in America!”
The person says, “I no American, I Vietnamese.”
The new arrival walks further, and the next person he sees he stops, shakes his hand and says, “Thank you for the wonderful America!”
That person puts up his hand and says, “I am from Middle East, I am not an American!”
He finally sees a nice lady and asks, “Are you an American?”
She says, “No, I am from Russia!”
Puzzled he asks her, “Where are all the Americans?”
The Russian lady checks her watch and says, “Probably at work!”

— Contributed by our compadre, Blacky.