Playing Hardball On The Golf Ball With Softball

, , , , , | Friendly | October 18, 2019

In the early part of the century, my wife and I were deacons in a small non-denominational church east of the Canadian Rockies. One summer, we spent weeks arranging an after-service family softball game — kids vs. adults. We had to work around other church activities and scheduled it for the last Sunday in August, giving everyone four weeks’ notice. The date was pushing things; in that part of the world, we could get snow at that time. Everything was set, until…

The Sunday before the game was scheduled, a man unknown to us got up during announcements. I was in the office counting the offering but the following is the verbatim quote, as verified by several people:

“Next Sunday, there will be a men’s golf outing immediately after church. This means that the softball game will have to be postponed.” And he sat down.

As I said, I missed his statement but I got back to the sanctuary in time to hear my wife, normally the nicest and most accommodating of persons, get up and ream him a new one in front of the congregation, stating that the game was not postponed and ending with, “We will not miss you.”

The game did go on as scheduled, but there is an addendum. As deacons, we were responsible for the day-to-day running of the church and we had begun to question our pastor. He was the founding minister of the church and had become a bit too comfortable in his role. He made no secret of his love for the game of golf and, for some mysterious reason, was never around on Fridays in good weather. We always suspected he was on the links but could never prove it. 

He had an obligation to be part of the softball game and it was obvious he didn’t want to be. Initially, he suggested we only play seven innings. We shot that down. Then, he wanted to let the kids win and go home; again, no. The game went on for over three hours with the score in the teens for both sides, but when it finally ended, our holy man vanished fast enough to call it a modern miracle.

To this day, we are convinced that he put the other man up to the claim the previous week as he didn’t have the guts to do it himself.

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Ankh-Morpork: City Of Love

, , , , , , | Friendly | October 15, 2019

(I’m waiting for my train, reading a book and giggle-snorting about it. An old lady is sitting on the other end of the bench.)

Old Lady: “Excuse me, dear, but what are you reading?”

(I hold up the book so she can see the cover, which says, “TERRY PRATCHETT – FEET OF CLAY,” and has cover art featuring a spooky bat and an angry-looking, red-eyed golem holding a giant cleaver striding out of an inferno toward a dwarf, a swordswoman, and a troll hand-wielding a siege weapon.)

Old Lady: *triumphantly* “Ah! A romance novel!”

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Slender Man Is Missing His Graduation Shirt  

, , , , , | Working | October 7, 2019

(I’m shopping for a dress shirt for graduation. We buy a shirt, but when we open up the package at home, we find out that the sleeves are ridiculously long on me, so we go to return it. We are greeted by the same employee who helped us in purchasing it.)

Employee #1: “Is something wrong?”

Mom: “It doesn’t fit.”

Employee #1: *perplexed look* “What do you mean?”

Mom: “The sleeves are way too long.”

(The employee measures the length of my arms, which are the same as what the package says.)

Employee #1: “It should be right. Why don’t you try it on?”

(I put the shirt on, and the sleeves are way too long.)

Employee #1: *really confused* “Oh, no, that’s definitely not right.”

(He takes the shirt to another employee and measure the sleeves on it, which are a good six inches longer than labelled, and they take the shirt to the back.)

Employee #1: “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Employee #2: “Me, neither!”

Employee #1: “Hey, [Employee #3]! Check out the shirt [Employee #2] has! It’s a 39-inch arm length! It was labelled as 33 inches.”

Employee #3: “Really?!”

Employee #1: “Yeah! I didn’t even know we carried those.”

Employee #3: “We don’t!”

(The staff’s interest and confusion with this shirt were quite entertaining!)

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Maybe You Should Have Moved Directly To Nirvana

, , , , , | Friendly | October 6, 2019

One winter, my friend was clearing away snow from her driveway and, due to the nice temperature and suitable texture of snow, she had a whim to make a snowman. Despite being a middle-aged recent widow, she was out there for a couple hours playing, like a child. Good for her right? Very sweet.  

Well, after she got the basic snowman made, she wasn’t done having fun, so she decided to test her artistic skills by making the sculpture a bit more advanced. Being Buddhist, she chose to make it into the shape of a classic Buddha statue. It turned out pretty nice.  

Finally done, she went inside and was sipping hot chocolate and enjoying her great mood when there was a knock at the door. It was the police!  

They apologised for bothering her, but explained that their policies force them to intervene in all complaints, regardless of whether any laws were broken. She was terribly anxious and confused, wondering what she may have done.  

Her neighbors had called the police because they didn’t think the snow Buddha should be allowed. After all, it was on the front lawn, “where children might see it”! How terrible that would be, for Bible Belt kids to find out that non-Christians exist. They might grow up to think that cultural diversity is okay, and that people different from their families are interesting equals rather than “others” to be shunned. Yes, let’s protect those kids.  

My poor friend was a lot less likely to enjoy time in her yard after that. 

Imagine thinking it’s a police matter that someone’s failing to hide their minority status.

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Unfiltered Story #172230

, , | Unfiltered | September 30, 2019

(Note that this story takes place in the early evening, and we have two dogs; one black, and one brown)

Mom: Good, we’ll be home before dark, and [black dog] goes into gorilla mode.

Me: …. What?

Dad: Gorilla mode?

Mom: Because it’s dark and she’s invisible and if we can’t see her she doesn’t have to come.

Me: OH! Guerilla mode!

Dad: [Black dog]’s usually happy to come when you call.

Mom: Oh, did I say [black dog]? I meant [brown dog].

Me: Okay, this makes sense now.

Mom: Guerilla mode for [black dog] is when she runs around without her underwear.

(My father and I start laughing)

Me: Commando. It’s going commando when she runs around without her underwear.

Mom: Yes, that too.