How to lie to the scale & lawyer & cat poem
HOW TO LIE TO THE BATHROOM SCALE
1. Weigh yourself with clothes on, after dinner… as well as in
the morning, without clothes, before breakfast, because it’s nice
to see how much weight you’ve lost overnight.
2. Never weigh yourself with wet hair.
3. When weighing, remove everything, including glasses. In this
case, blurred vision is an asset. Don’t forget the earrings,
these things can weigh at least a pound.
4. Use cheap scales only, never the medical kind, because they
are always five pounds off… to your advantage.
5. Always go to the bathroom first.
6. Stand with arms raised, making pressure on the scale lighter.
7. Don’t eat or drink in the morning until AFTER you’ve weighed
in, completely naked, of course.
8. Weigh yourself after a haircut, this is good for at least half
a pound of hair (hopefully).
9. Exhale with all your might BEFORE stepping onto the scale (air
has to weigh something, right?).
10. Start out with just one foot on the scale, then holding onto
the towel rack in front of you, slowly edge your other foot on
and slowly let off of the rack. Admittedly, this takes time, but
it’s worth it. You will weigh at least two pounds less than if
you’d stepped on normally.
-=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=-
A lawyer dies in a car accident on his 40th birthday and finds
himself greeted at the Pearly Gates by a brass band. Saint Peter
runs over, shakes his hand and says “Congratulations!”
“Congratulations for what?” asks the lawyer.
“Congratulations for what?” says Saint Peter. “We’re celebrating
the fact that you lived to be 160 years old.”
“But that’s not true,” says the lawyer. “I only lived to be
forty.”
“That’s impossible,” says Saint Peter. “We’ve added up your time
sheets.”
-=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=- -=*=-
Poe’s Cat
The End of the Raven
(With Apologies To Poe)
On a night quite unenchanting,
when the rain was downward slanting,
I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for.
Tipsy and a bit unshaven,
in a tone I found quite craven,
Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door.
“Raven’s very tasty,” thought I,
as I tiptoed o’er the floor, “There is nothing I like more.”
Soft upon the rug I treaded,
calm and careful as I headed,
Towards his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore.
While the bard and birdie chattered,
I made sure that nothing clattered,
Creaked, or snapped, or fell, or shattered,
as I crossed the corridor;
For his house is crammed with trinkets,
curious and weird decor,
Bric-a-brac and junk galore.
Still the Raven never fluttered, s
tanding stock-still as he uttered,
In a voice that shrieked and sputtered,
his two cents’ worth -”Nevermore”.
While this dirge the birdbrain kept up,
oh, so silently I crept up,
Then I crouched and quickly leapt up,
pouncing on the feathered bore.
Soon he was a heap of plumage,
and a little blood and gore -
Only this and not much more.
“Oooo!” my pickled poet cried out,
“Pussycat, it’s time that I dried out!”
Never sat I in my hideout talking to a bird before;
How I’ve wallowed in self-pity, while my gallant, valiant kitty
Put an end to that damned ditty”
- then I heard him start to snore.
Back atop the door I clambered,
eyed that statue I abhor,
Jumped - and smashed it on the floor.
~ by Edgar Allen Poe’s CAT