My father always told me, "Son, if you're going to start something, start from the beginning." I think that's pretty good advice. Especially for reading these stories.
Email To My Brother: Not A Flesh-Eating Bacteria
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Our father asked me if the Coronavirus was a flesh-eating bacteria.
Pit Bulls can learn up to 43 different commands... but the only one they'll respond to is "KILL!" A Pit Bulls' bark is very expressive, but they'd rather let their teeth do the talking. Pit Bulls don't have owners. They have future victims. You're alive only because a Pit Bull hasn't decided to kill you yet. When a woman is pregnant, a Pit Bull doesn't see the unborn baby as a future member of the family. It sees the child as competition. Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco because a Pit Bull ripped it out of his chest and he was afraid to ask for it back. Freddy Krueger can attack you through your dreams, but you know what attacks Freddy Krueger through his dreams? That's right, a Pit Bull. That’s not the world Atlas holds on his shoulders. It’s a ball. The ball he and his Pit Bull play catch with. Pit Bulls have over 97 different synonyms for the word "kill," but only one word for humans: Dead. A Pit Bull's idea of...
My father likes going to the doctor. He sees it as a social outing. He likes to flirt with the receptionist who checks us in, the nurse who takes his vitals, and the nurse practitioner who sees him when the doctor is unavailable. He'll make a joke to the receptionist... "I should bring my dog here," he'll say. "Really?" the poor girl will answer. "Why?" "Because he's a Dalmatian and he keeps seeing spots!" ...and if it gets a laugh, he'll repeat it to the nurse, the nurse practitioner, and anybody else who makes the mistake of making eye contact. But usually when he's funny it's unintentional. "...he keeps seeing spots! " "That's funny," the doctor said without laughing, having perhaps heard them all before. "Now, what seems to be the problem?" ...
I don't know what it is about newspapers, but they must think their readers have unlimited time and money to cook the recipes they feature in their pages. Most of us, we have jobs. We don't want to come home and spend hours fixing something that can easily be bought at Sam's or Costco or the corner gas station. Not to mention the cleanup afterward. Also, if I fill my refrigerator with food, where am I supposed to keep my beer? The recipes always seem to require an excessive number of ingredients that you probably don't have and will never use again. When Jesus fed the multitudes, He wisely kept it down to two items: fish and bread. It just seems to me newspapers should acknowledge we live in a different world now. There's no longer enough hours in the day for us to prepare these extravagant meals. Like my price point when I buy things, five or less should be the only numbers required. Recently, my local newspaper printed something by The Culinary Institute of Amer...
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