True story—A gentleman was sitting in my office a few weeks ago discussing an upcoming medical procedure. The man said his doctor told him, “We’ve performed this procedure on a dead person and it was successful.”
Had I been this man, I would have asked my doctor, “Was the person alive before the procedure was performed? Was death the desired outcome for the patient? Did the procedure somehow restore the dead to life?”
I know my confidence in the doctor would have been at ground zero at this point. I am reminded of a bit of advice I was once given: Never trust an electrician with no eyebrows.
There was a time that the pilot light in the propane gas fireplace in the living room would neither ignite nor stay lit. I called a repairman to come fix it.
My wife was right down there on the floor with him, offering whatever assistance she could. I knew I had no assistance to offer—if so, I would not have called on a repairman to fix my problem.
While they were sitting “Indian style” on the floor (pardon me if this is no longer a politically correct statement—the phrase is a throwback to how sitting cross-legged was described in the long-ago days of my youth), my wife noticed how dusty the area inside the faux fireplace and behind and around the burner had become. She decided to get a spray can of dust remover.
As the repairman seemed to finally have coaxed a somewhat enduring flame from the pilot light, I warned them both to be careful, that that can would blow up in their faces.
You see, Dear Reader, I’d read the back of the can, and that writing is there for a reason.
My wife, in that special way she so often has, let me know that she knew what she was doing, at the same time implying that I did not. She asked the repairman for his input, and he seemed to think it would be OK.
In a few short seconds, the contents of the spray made contact with the flame and WHHOOOSSSSHHHHH!!!!!!! There was a tremendous explosion of flame, smoke, dust, fire, who knows what else! The smoke alarm immediately pealed its already too late warning, and a most horrendous odor of ruin filled the house.
My wife and the repairman escaped with their eyebrows, and all other facial features, intact. The repairman seemed inspired to quickly complete his work as I labored to silence the fire alarm. He left soon thereafter, leaving the wife and me to breathe the contamination for the next several hours.
Interestingly, I was never able to get that repairman to work at my house again. He must have spread the word, for it seems there is a dearth of repairmen available to service my repair needs.
So, never trust an electrician with no eyebrows, huh? How about a barber with no hair? A dentist with no teeth? A mechanic with no car? A doctor whose successful procedure was performed on a dead person? A teacher with poor standardized test scores? A financial adviser who declares bankruptcy? A politician????????

ANSWER TO QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 34
His wife said: "That's the 4th time you've gone back for dessert! Doesn't it embarrass you?" How did the man reply? (ANSWER: He kept telling them the desserts were for his wife!)

QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 35
What is the reason given by 38% of women for accepting dates from men? (See next week’s article in historicunioncounty.com for the answer.)

FROM THE EMAIL WORLD

NEVER TRUST A SOUTHERNER WHO SAYS:

When I retire, I'm movin' North.

I'll take Shakespeare for $1000, Alex.

Duct tape won't fix that.

Wrestling is fake.

Do you think my gut is too big?

I'll have grapefruit and grapes instead of biscuits, grits, and gravy.

Give me the small bag of pork rinds.

Trim the fat off that steak.

Cappuccino tastes better than espresso.

The tires on that truck are too dang big.

I've got it all on the C: DRIVE.

Unsweetened tea tastes better.

My fiancée, Bobbie Jo, is registered at Tiffany's.

Checkmate!

"You’s Guys"