Job Security

Laugh Tracks in the Dust

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I’ve got an unfortunate friend, ol’ Layde Aufwerk, who has a hard time keeping a job. He’s been laid off from three different jobs in six months. The most recent job he wound up with was advertised as temporary job working for a rancher in the Flint Hills.

Here’s the story Layde told me about his new job. It wuz during the haying season and he was pulling a fully loaded bale wagon across a steep hilly field with his boss’ new tractor. It wuz steep country and Layde said he suddenly realized as he was heading down a steep hill, the trailer started swerving and the whole shebang got quickly out of control with nowhere to go but down.

Layde leaped for his life as the tractor, wagon and bales went crashing down the hill into the slough, where the whole mess burst into flames.

Naturally the rancher wasn’t too happy about the accident and rightly blamed Layde. The rancher told him he’d have to garnishee a chunk of his wages from every paycheck until the damage was paid off.

Layde said he asked, “How long will that take?”

Peering into the black smoke rising from below, the rancher said, “At least 10 years.”

Layde said he enthusiastically yelled, “All right! Job security!”

***

The early deer hunting season has already opened in some states for some categories of hunters. Reading about that reminded me of a humorous deer hunting story from years ago. Here’s how it went:

A Missouri farmer relented to a couple of aging deer hunters when they politely asked for permission to hunt in some os his woodlands. Although his land was posted, he figgered that at their age, their hunting efforts were bound to fail.

Well, imagine his surprise when he wuz finishing his chores just at sundown when he spied one of the oldsters huffing and puffing in near exhaustion pulling a huge buck deer out to the road to the hunters’ pickup truck.

When he went to investigate, the farmer asked the sweating, heaving oldster, “Where’s your buddy?”

Gasping for breath, the aging hunter blurted, “Homer pulled on this deer so long and hard that he fainted back in the woods.”

“You mean you left your friend alone and unconscious out in the woods while you dragged this buck out?
“Yep,” the oldster gasped. “We really need the meat for this winter and it wuz a tough call for me. But, I figgered no one’s going to steal ol’ Homer. I’ll go fetched him in after I rest for a spell.”

***

Out in remote eastern Colorado is a small, family owned country store called “The Wander In.” It’s been owned by the same local folks for three generations. A staple fixture at the story has been a harmless old hound dog named Buford who snoozes on the floor by the cash register. Most customers in the store stop to pet the appreciative Buford on his head.

That’s why one day a regular customer to the establishment wuz surprised to see a new sign that read, “Danger! Beware of Dog!”

The surprised customer asked the owner, “What give’s with the dog danger sign?” Did Buford bite someone or did you get a new dog?”

“Neither,” the owner replied. “Last week a touristy lady tripped over Buford and broke her tailbone. I sweet talked her out of suing me, but I figgered better to be safe than sorry for the future.”

***

My mind went on vacation before I sat down to write this column. I had writer’s block. So, I did what I always do in such a situation. I went back and pulled a good humorous story out of a far-distant column.

This wuz back in the early days when farm families really did milk cows by hand outdoors. It wuz on one of those farm at evening milking time when the neighbor’s of the family with the milk cow got a good scare.

When they looked across the fence into the cow lot, they saw the neighbor’s daughter, Mabel, out by the creek milking the family Jersey. That didn’t surprise them, but what did wuz the sight of the Jersey bull tearing across the cow toward Mabel. The bull wuz red-eyed, bellowing, slobbering and clearly intent on doing some damage to Mabel.

That’s why, to everyone’s surprise, Mable looked up and never flinched. She just kept milking ol’ Jersey. The bull thundered to a halt, dust flying, just a few yards from Mabel, then it turned around a docilely went back to the creek.

The neighbor witnesses were amazed. They yelled at Mabel, “What were you thinking? Weren’t you scared at all? Are you really that brave?”

“No way,” Mabel hollered back. “I knew he didn’t have the guts to harm me. I know for a fact this cow is his mother-in-law.”

***

Here’s a true story about my 4-year-old great grandson. He recently started going to pre-school. After the first day, when his mother picked him up, his teacher relayed this story.

After recess, the teacher lined up her class to re-enter the school. She said that it would be a good time to go to the restroom.

That’s when my intrepid great-grandson blurted, “Well, good. I’ve been squeezing my penis for a long time.”

***

Words of wisdom for this week: “The older I get, the more I appreciate cancelled plans, early nights, loose clothes, old-time music, thunderstorms that wake me up, and alcohol that’s on sale.”

Have a good ‘un.

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