 Comedy: May 18, 2016 Issue [#7645] |
  Comedy
This week: TP, PLPs, NCC, Plus Other Vignettes Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ  
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Hello folks! Welcome to another edition of the Comedy Newsletter. Every so often, I like to do humorous vignettes and other paragraphs filled with still shots of my life. This is one of those times. |
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May, is perhaps the second busiest time of year for me. It’s the time we pack up and close the Florida residence, and hit the road to head back to New England, and open-up that residence. With each move, we notice that our car seems to shrink a little each trip. Thus, we have to go through the sifting out process, separating stuff we really need, from stuff we really would like to have up North, but can do without. However, saying goodbye for the season, becomes tougher and tougher, each time.
We have made many friends in the South, and we miss them when we leave. Yet, it’s also a good thing, because we leave right about the time people are getting tired of having a WebWitch, around each day. It gives them months off, and then they start to really miss us. By the time we return in the fall, they are very excited to see us. Ain’t that sweet?
Recently, I went shopping, and found out that paper goods of the most necessary kind, have shrunk in no small way. Well, actually, shrinking is doing something in a small way, so strike that last statement. Anyway, I know I can’t be the only one who is noticing this, but, since when has a roll of toilet paper become the size of a rolling pin, in diameter?
Who are they kidding? Like we aren’t going to notice the size of the rolls, even though they are disguised in bright packages with clouds, bears or angels, and say “Mega,” on them? Puhleeeeeez!
When I think of “Mega,” I think, great, sounds like a generous size, won’t have to change the roll as often. Which is something I secretly hate doing. Yeah, I know, I see you nodding, too. You know what I mean. If there is one-and-a-half sheets of TP left on the roll, you’ll slip out of the bathroom and wait for your spouse or significant other, roommate or family pet, to accept the burden of undoing the roller and placing the new roll on.
Actually, I’ve become so annoyed with the holders themselves. The fancier they look, the more of a pain they are to change. Give me the slip-on standing TP holder, anytime!
So, now I search hard for a decent bulky roll, that’s not just “Mega,” but also has more than 1-ply of recycled paper, that’s been through it’s last reincarnation. For heaven’s sakes, plant more trees and let’s get back into the business of making it easier to take care of business.
While swimming in the pool the other day, I struck up a conversation with a guy, who is relatively new to our community. He does laps, slow and steady for two hours each day, rain or shine. Which makes sense, because one is already wet by the action of being in the pool, so why the worry about rain? Lightning, however, will get my butt outta the pool quickly, no looking back.
Web-Lock and I have a lot of respect for this man, as he is working hard to lose weight, get healthy, plus he takes excellent care of his elderly mother. However, those in the community who are a little set in their ways, older than we are, but no wiser, have a difficult time adjusting to getting to trust “new people.”
This guy, as it turns out, has a great sense of humor. We all joke a lot, making exercise time pass quickly. One afternoon, after his swim he went to the parking lot outside the mail delivery area, and waited until the postal worker finished filling the boxes. Okay, I must rewind and explain that our community has the slowest mail delivery service, ever! So, he decided to wait in his car, door open, sunglasses on, and watch all the residents gathering to collect their mail. They aren’t allowed through the roped-off area, so they usually get back in their cars and head home, to return later in the day or night as it is sometimes.
A few of the ladies caught our friend sitting in the car, and waiting. They began talking among themselves, and pointing in his direction. One brave soul walked over to him and asked if is a resident of our community. He nods in the affirmative and keeps staring at the mail boxes. He did this each day, since it captured so much attention, the first time he waited until every letter was delivered and the mail truck moved away. How he keeps a straight face through the continuous inquiries about why he sits there at the same time each day, is priceless.
“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before you started hanging around the parking lot. You can’t possibly be waiting two hours just for the mail. You must be some kind of pervert, watching all the ladies collecting their mail, or going into the laundry facility.”
“No, Ma’am, I’m doing nothing but sitting here and waiting. I have no interest in you or your friends, in any pervy way at all.”
“Well I’m gonna report you, that’s what I’m gonna do.”
A little while later, the manager came over to his car and asked him what he was doing, because she was getting complaints about him just sitting there.
“I’m just passing the time, Ma’am, that’s all. Am I doing anything wrong?”
“Well, no, you aren’t doing anything wrong. I’m just responding to a couple complaints from people who have nothing better to do than complain about nothing.”
Ever since that day, folks, our humorous friend has been dubbed by those few old biddies, the “Parking Lot Perve.”
I jumped on the bandwagon with a shortened version, and called him our very own “PLP.” (That’s short for parking lot perve. ) 
“So, Mr. Man, will you be PLP-ing later today? “
“Yup, same time, same parking spot.”
“Well keep up the good work.”
We all need someone who has his eyes and ears on our parking lot. By now, he knows everyone who does belong here, whether friendly or unfriendly, and anybody who doesn’t, or whose acting suspiciously -- other than him, of course!”
Just a little add-on to the mail delivery system, here. Since when did postal workers, stop wearing the blue uniform and hat? I guess it happened about the same time that we consumers started getting short-sheeted with our TP rolls. Okay, I can live with the no uniform, thing -- but should a postal worker wear a T-shirt with the words “rub here for luck” inscribed across her chest? Just asking, folks.
Okay, I’ve got to get back to sorting, packing and resorting. Thank goodness and kudos to the person who invented vacuum-seal bags. They shrink clothes and linens down so flat, we can fit much more in the car!
See you next time from my NCC. (Northern Command Center.)
Until then, laugh hard, laugh often!
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willwilcox
Witchy-poo, you are a one of a kind original hipster. Loved the newsletter.
~Bill
Thank you! 
And, I think you may be right, Bill. 
LJPC - the tortoise 
Ah, Webbie -- you poor thing. I cringe when I think of your leg being bent like a chicken wing. But it's all over now, and as you so in-elegantly put it in your bad writing snippet: you can put it all to the side of you like a conjoined twin. I hope you and your conjoined twin recover quickly so the hip-toddler can swim, bike ride, and do all the things it desires!
~ Laura
 Yeah, the "co-joined" was intentionally used rather than conjoined, for the Intentionally Bad Story, contest. I won third place, BTW. I'm just gonna have to be badder!
I can report, though, that the sibling hips are getting along well, now. Yay!!! Thanks for the feedback, Laura. 
See you next time, folks!
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