Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered
Encounters with friends & strangers

Lounging About In Your Underwear Is The Cat’s Pajamas!

, , , , , , , | Friendly | September 29, 2021

We used to live in an apartment with a balcony facing the street. There was a unit next to us, so their balcony was a few feet down from us along the side of the building, facing the same direction. It was a busy street and that was our only “outside area,” so my boyfriend and I liked to spend time out there, and we noticed that our neighbor had some odd habits.

He would put up tall pieces of plywood on the side of his balcony when he was out there, facing toward our balcony only, not toward the street. Despite this, it was easy to see that he would sit outdoors, shirtless and only wearing tighty-whity style underwear, and rub his bald head while watching the foot traffic and cars below.

It seemed harmless enough — we could always see his hands, at least — so what did we care? 

Our big ginger cat loved going out on the balcony and would sit for hours on the railing and watch the birds. One day, I had the sliding door open to let the cat in and out as he pleased and not play butler every five minutes. I saw that the cat was sitting on my boyfriend’s grill. It was closed, but it still was probably not the most hygienic place for a giant cat. 

I poked my head through the open screen door and told him sternly, “Get your butt off of there!”

I had barely noticed that the next-door side partition was up and our neighbor must have been enjoying a head rubbing session because, the next thing I knew, there was a half-naked-and-tighty-whity blur visible in the gap between the door and the makeshift partition, diving headfirst into his apartment at my remark!

Thankfully, his apartment’s access was on the opposite side of the building and we never ran into him other than on the balcony, but we’d glimpse him in the parking lot occasionally, always in a very straight-laced banker-type suit!

Creating A Battery Of Issues

, , , , | Friendly | September 25, 2021

I am standing by my car on the road, with the bonnet open. A man walks past.

Man: “Doing some work to your car?”

Me: “It’s getting scrapped tomorrow, but I want the battery out. It’s nearly new. I’ll flog it on eBay.”

Man: “You would get some good money for those wheels, too.”

Me: “Maybe, but the recovery truck will be a bit confused about how to lift it, then!”

He walks on. I remove the battery in two minutes and let the hood drop. I just need to lock the car. I insert the key in the driver’s door… and it won’t turn. I try the handle. It won’t open, either.

It dawns on me that the car needs the power from the battery to operate the lock. How is the car going to be winched onto the recovery truck if the recoverer can’t get inside it to steer? I can almost hear Laurel and Hardy shouting, “Here’s another fine mess you’ve got me into!” I phone my father for advice.

Me: “He’s going to have a tough time recovering the car. Oh, there’s something else inside the car he needs: a parking brake!”

Dad: “To put the battery back in, you’ll need to open the bonnet. Where is the open bonnet switch?”

Me: “Passenger footwell.”

Dad: “Which is where?”

Me: “Inside the car. Oh, crap. I can’t steer, set the parking brake, or open the bonnet to put the battery back in.”

Dad: “Either deal with it in the morning, let him drag it on with the winch, or get a brick and smash the window in.”

I should have taken the man’s advice and just removed all four wheels!

Stick Around And Get A Free Education!

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 23, 2021

Back in the 1990s, when only the police and 911 dispatch had caller ID, one of the most popular ways teenagers and adults with no lives would annoy strangers would be to call them and either sit and not say anything, ask for someone who didn’t live there, or call and immediately hang up.

At one point in time, these calls seriously became a nuisance to our home where every day, at 7:00 am sharp, someone would call and say nothing, and then at 4:30 pm sharp, they would call and ask for a “Sherry Slone.” Every… freaking… day. Picking up the phone and yelling, “F*** OFF!” did nothing but tickle the person pink and encourage them to call more often.

Then, my dad found a rather interesting solution.

Caller: “Hello, is Sherry Slone there?”

My dad pulled my science book out of my lap.

Dad: “Mitosis, a process of cell duplication, or reproduction, during which one cell gives rise to two genetically identical daughter cells. Strictly applied, the term mitosis is used to describe the duplication…”

The caller hung up. The next morning, they called again and my mother answered. They were silent.

Mom: “Oil painting is a hobby that requires both skill and patience. The supplies that I prefer using is a standard X size brush made out of—”

The caller hung up.

And surprise, all the calls stopped.

Better Than A Grizzly Bear Or Something

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 21, 2021

I’m texting a friend.

Me: “Hey, man, sorry I missed your call. I was running.”

Friend: “Running? From whom?”

Me: “Uh… my winter weight?”

Friend: “Okay, fair enough.”

Time To Nipple That In The Bud

, , , , , | Friendly | September 19, 2021

My friend has been doing self-weaning, letting her daughter decide when she is done breastfeeding. That means she is still breastfeeding the girl at nearly three years old.

I’ve been babysitting the girl and we have just done a lot of heavy physical activity outside. When we come in, she asks to watch cartoons and, wanting an excuse to let her sit down and rehydrate, I agree to one show. She often nurses when watching cartoons, which I suppose she is used to because not long after the show starts:

Girl: “I want milk.”

She starts leaning over as if to nurse from me before realizing I’m not her mom.

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any mom milk.”

Girl: “Oh, I forgot! You’re a boy; you don’t have nipples!”