Hey, Kids. You know how I said you can’t always get what you want?
Well, who wants ice cream? [pulls ice cream cones from behind his back]
Yaaaaaaaay!!!
Okay, now who wants grandma to be alive?
Hey, Kids. You know how I said you can’t always get what you want?
Well, who wants ice cream? [pulls ice cream cones from behind his back]
Yaaaaaaaay!!!
Okay, now who wants grandma to be alive?
There was a new guy, Jim, who joined the crew the summer of ’74 who became an instant comrade. The jokesters of the crowd - my dad amongst them - decided after a month or 2 it was time for a prank.
It’s important to recall in those days there were no cell phones, computers, google, ezpass computerized toll collection, nothing. If you needed to go anywhere back then you needed physical directions “go a mile down the road and at the gas station make a left.” Even toll roads (bridges and such) had people manning them and if you dared speed through, there were dedicated patrol cars who would chase after you, get the toll and give you a ticket, right then and there.
They decided to invite him to the end of summer cookout traditionally given by Ben, one of the men at my dad’s job. Jim was told that Ben lived in a remote area where even a physical map wasn’t going to help nearing his house.
“You’ve got to follow someone on the highway to get there because the exits get really tricky,” they told Jim. He asked my dad if he could follow him to the cookout.
Dad: “Sure,” my dad said. “By the way, what color car do you have?” my dad asked rather matter of factly.
Jim: “Well, red I guess. Why?”
D: “You lucky SOB. The cookout is on the 19th, It’s red car day on the highway that day.”
J: “Red car day?! What the hell are you talking about?”
D: “What are you living under a rock? The highway has free toll days for red, black, yellow and blue cars on the 2nd, 14th, 19th and 22nd of every month during the summer.”
J: “I never heard of that. Why the hell do they do that?”
D: “When they were building this highway back in the 40s there were 4 deaths, and those 4 men are honored with free tolls on the days they died. 3 months out of the year they give people with red, black, yellow and blue cars (the color of the cars the men had) free tolls to honor the brave men who died building the very road you’re driving on.”
J: “Wow! That’s quite a story. I had no idea. I have to admit I don’t travel that road very but that is really very nice to honor them that way.”
So, Jim made arrangements to follow my dad (with me, my brother and mom in the car with him) on the 22nd of August.
As we got onto the highway, my dad made sure to drive slow enough to not lose Jim and be absolutely certain Jim was right behind my dad as they approached the toll plaza. My dad rolled down the window to pay the toll saying to the clerk, “I’m paying for me and guy directly behind me.”
As my dad drive away slowly, Jim inched up not really sure what was going to happen. However, the toll booth clerk just waved her hand as if to say “go ahead” and Jim, a tad startled at first, hit the gas and went.
My dad giggled a bit, then made sure to keep driving slow enough to not lose Jim as they approached the second toll plaza. My dad said to the clerk, “This is for me and guy directly behind me.”
As my dad drive away slowly, you could see Jim was more confident but still cautious. However, as the toll booth clerk waved his hand “go ahead” Jim hit the gas, this time a smile crawling across his face. He gained up to my dad in no time.
The traffic was getting a bit thicker now and my dad used this traffic to partially lose Jim, but make sure he could still see him. Approaching the next toll plaza, my dad was in a different lane than Jim. My dad stopped and paid the toll while Jim sailed through the toll lane. You could hear the audible alarm of a toll-jumper, and the black-n-white police car in hot pursuit of Jim.
My dad pulled away slowly from the toll catching up to Jim hearing him arguing with the cop, “Yeah, it’s red car day.”
The funniest part was hearing Jim tell his side of it at the BBQ. All the fellas chipped in to pay the fine.
That’s a wonderful story. Your father was a genius.
Full disclosure: that story came from Reddit. The man was not my father.
Ah, thanks - no harm done. I guess I should have figured out that if had been a story about your own father, you wouldn’t have waited for post 3,782 to share it, it’s too good to keep that long!
And that’s what makes it a successful prank - the mark was not injured; the prankers paid the fine.
Joan of Arc was interesting.
But Joan of Circumference was more rounded.
Sometimes she would meet with her cousin Joan of Diameter and they would have pi.
When Harry Secombe was knighted, he took the title Sir Cumference.
Whatwhatwhatwhatwhat? I do not wish to know that!
So the other one could drive.
“what do you think your classmates would think of you if you were always kind and polite?”
“They’d think they could beat me up,” responded the kid promptly.
…and I didn’t know what to say to Him.
– Henny Youngman
We wake up in the middle of the night and laugh at each other.
– Bob Hope
Anybody’s.
–Woody Allen
… just because she lives in your body!
—Judy Tenuta
My girlfriend was mad at me because I didn’t open the car door for her…
…but I was too busy swimming to the surface.
—Emo Philips
Did you hear about that actress that got stabbed? Reese?
Witherspoon?
No, with a knife.
She beat him to death with his own guitars.
First offender?
No, first a Gibson.
An eightiest.
I took it 19 times until I got it perfectly right.
Because statistically, it’s a lot less likely to be a train accident with a zebra inside it.
’
Uke, I am your father.
Because he’s a master of deduction.
Shouldn’t that be eighthiest?
Me: You have a lot of tattoos.
Woman: Yep, and they didn’t cost me a dime.
Me: How does that work?
Woman: I just flash my boobs and I get a free one.
Me: Ahh, the old tit for tat.
Maybe eighth-theist, or ⅛thiest.
Yeah, eighthiest. I need to proofread more often.
The adjective for metal is metallic.
But it is not so for iron, which is ironic.