Herb’s Blog, Herbdate 22153 – 724:
Well, I missed a couple of days this week for which I do sincerely apologize but, along with the funky-wunky schedule and getting a lot more hours than I have in recent times past, my wife and I have been told by the doctors to start going to a Physical
Terrorist Therapist. Then my phone broke and I had to go back to an older phone that I have kept in case of emergencies. It’s not really smart enough of a phone to run the WordPress app. “Stop whingeing and whining, Herb, and get on with it already.” (Whingeing is a word I learned from my readers who speak English. Us guys what talk good American don’t use it, really. I like it, though, even if I am not particularly what one dictionary described as an Anglophile.)
Well, I do apologize but after doing all I’ve done today A whinge and a whine is all I’ve got. No. Wait. Let me take a quick jog through the archives and see if I can’t find a cartoon or poem or a joke or something for you, Gentle Reader.
The Hiking Boots
The first carload of Boy Scouts had left my house minutes earlier,
bound for our three-day wilderness trip. As I backed my own vanload
of Scouts out of my garage, I noticed a pair of hiking boots on the
back steps, so I stopped to retrieve them.
An hour later, we caught up with the first car, which was parked at
a highway rest stop. Seeing me pull up, my assistant Scout leader
rolled down his window. “Your wife just called on my cell phone,” he
said. “She asked if you knew anything about the plumber’s boots that
were on your back steps.”