You Cant Make this stuff up

Tag: short-story

  • Are you a Felix or Oscar?

    Many of us are north of 50 and have had enough time to determine. Who are the Oscars and who are the Felixes in your family?  You might recall the hilarious series “The Odd Couple” , 2 divorced guys living together with Felix being the perfectionist and Oscar the slob and the non stop adventures with this type of relationship. 

    Here is an overview of the respective personalities: 

    Hotel 

    Felix

    • Checks in for one night.
    • Hangs up every shirt.
    • Folds socks and underwear into perfect little squares.
    • Makes the bed before leaving for breakfast.

    Oscar

    • Staying one month.
    • Half the clothes are still in the suitcase.
    • The other half are decorating the floor.
    • Can’t find his toothbrush by Day Two.

    Car

    Felix

    • Washes it every Saturday.
    • Gas tank never below half.
    • Replaces floor mats and changes oil monthly.
    • Registration and proof of insurance documents – Laminated in a zippered pouch 

    Oscar

    • Running on fumes.
    • Three coffee cups of stains on the seats 
    • #10 tattered envelope has 4 past years of registrations with the latest expired 
    • Petrified McDonalds fries – 2019 under the seat 

    Refrigerator

    Felix

    • Labels leftovers with description, date and time. 
    • Everything organized by expiration date, carbs and calories 
    • Ice maker produces  perfectly square, clear ice

    Oscar

    • Opens the refrigerator, sniffs, “ Still smells okay.”
    • Jar of jam with a thank you note from Jesus to the 3 wiseman
    • Fruit drawer is a penicillin factory 
    • Ice maker is a glacier 

    Remote Control

    Felix

    Always puts it back.

    Oscar

    Where’s Waldo? 

    My wife is pure Felix and I am a pure card carrying Oscar. 

    She makes sure there are 2 softener sheets in the dryer,  

    I contribute a couple sharpies quarterly 

    The kitchen and dishes sparkle,

     My empty, unwashed smoothie cup will need a sandblaster 

    Her clothes are perfectly separated and folded in a drawer

     Mine looks like waste management trash day

    Now it’s your turn.

    Which one are you?

    Better yet…

    Who is the biggest Oscar or Felix in your family?  An example? 

    ⸻

    I

  • The Goat, the Corvette, and the Dumpster Surprise

    My sister Sally’s pride and joy was Cotton Tail, a white rabbit with deep red eyes.

    A white goat standing atop an orange sports car, with visible wheels and windows.

    Then Christmas came.

    Brother Bill got a bow and arrow and immediately did what any responsible kid would do—shot an arrow straight into the sky.

    It came down directly into Cotton Tail.

    Christmas was pretty much over.

    Sally was devastated, so Mom went looking for something to ease the pain. On a country drive, she spotted a sign:

    BABY GOATS FOR SALE.

    Problem solved.

    That Easter, instead of another rabbit, Sally got a live baby goat nestled in green plastic grass.

    She named him Sticks.

    Cute little Sticks eventually became an 85-pound, four-foot-tall wrecking ball who ate Mom’s petunias and butted anyone foolish enough to bend over.

    Then came the Corvette.

    I had just bought a brand-new orange Corvette, and after a college football game, the family was celebrating.

    One guest, Harry, had enjoyed several scotches. On his way to the bathroom, he looked out the window and froze.

    “Martha… you’re not going to believe this, but there’s a goat standing on an orange Corvette.”

    Martha came over.

    Naturally, Sticks had already jumped down.

    “I don’t see any goat. Harry, we’re going home.”

    A few months later, sadly, a pack of dogs killed Sticks.

    Dad found him in the yard.

    “Michael, before school, bury that goat.”

    Mike had other plans.

    He tied a rope around Sticks, dragged him behind our old wood-paneled station wagon to the end of the driveway, and heaved him into the family dumpster.

    Problem solved.

    Or so he thought.

    “Did you bury the goat?”

    “Yeah, yeah.”

    Then the Waste Management guy arrived.

    He opened the dumpster, looked inside—and froze.

    Four goat hooves were sticking straight up.

    He marched to the house and pounded on the door.

    “Sir, I have picked up a lot of trash in 20 years. But never a dead goat.”

    Michael! Get that goat out of the dumpster