Copyright 1999 W. Bruce Cameron Every Wednesday morning for the past nine years, my wife has interrupted the usual flow of chaos by shrieking, "oh my gosh, it's trash day!" The children, all three of whom are in various stages of school preparation, react to this statement as if she has just spoken Romanian, stopping and staring at her in numb incomprehension. "Hurry!" my wife urges them. Being obedient children, they immediately proceed to hurry. However, with no specific instructions beyond that, they don't seem to be hurrying to do anything in particular--certainly, trash collection is in no way involved. They bump into each other in the hallway a lot, shouting at each other to "get out of the way!" "Gather up all the garbage!" my wife and I command. The kids respond by forming a committee to debate the fairness of this directive. After a brief discussion, they reach the consensus that everyone should be held responsible for his or her "own" junk. As corollary to this absurd principle, they initiate an anthropologic study into the contents of each receptacle. For example, since the parents cook, most of the trash under the sink is "theirs." My oldest daughter haughtily declares that she "never" throws anything away. My son, checking through the downstairs trash can to gather evidence that he's not accountable for that one, begins to feel remorse over some of the things he's discarded, and starts pulling items out. "We're running late!" my wife warns. This could be our Official Family Motto. I recently purchased a shredder for my confidential documents, only to discover I don't have any confidential documents. However, a fifteen-year-old girl's entire life is cause for secrecy, and I can hear her using the device now, grinding up correspondence from her friends in school. "We don't have time for that!" I tell her. A few minutes later, my son joins her and begins shredding what sounds like a potato. The school bus chugs by, and I pick up the phone to call the attendance line. "For absences, press 1," the recording tells me. "For late arrivals, press 2. If you're the Camerons calling because it's trash day, press 3." "We're pigs," my oldest daughter announces. I regard her warily. "We throw away too much stuff." "It would be better just to dump it all on the floor in your bedroom like you do," I agree. Despite my expectations, a single garbage can has now found its way to the curb. My son places it in the center of the driveway, so that no one will be able to drive to work. A gusty wind blows an empty milk jug out of the container and into the woods. My boy responds with the reflexes of a glacier, watching the carton bounce away. I open the door. "Hey!" I tell him. "Go get that!" He stares at me blankly. "The milk jug!" I yell. "Oh, okay, Dad!" he responds cheerfully. Having seen his bus pass by has put him in a euphoric mood. He picks up a second plastic milk container and, to my amazement, tosses it into the wind, jubilantly clapping his hands as it flies into the trees. "Why did you do that?" I shriek. "Well it seemed like a waste of time to go after just one!" he responds logically. He'll make someone a fine husband someday. All week long my children have been denying that the kitchen trash needs to be emptied, jumping up and down on the contents to compress them. As a result, when I drag the plastic container from under the sink, it weighs as much as a collapsed star. I wrestle it to the end of the driveway and the neighborhood dogs trot up to see what the Camerons will have on the breakfast buffet this morning. My daughter is right; we do throw too much stuff away. By the time we're finished, we've dragged so much junk out to the end of my driveway it resembles the inside of my garage. The shredder falls silent and the kids go to school, and what passes for peace at the Cameron house settles over the morning. Until next Wednesday.

?I?ve been making a lot of Freudian slips lately,? a man says casually to his friend. ?Like what? asks his buddy. ?Well, last week I asked the train conductor for two pickets to Tittsburgh.? ?I did something similar the other day,? says the friend.?My wife and I were having breakfast, and instead of saying,?Honey, please pass the butter,? I said,?You bitch, you ruined my life!?

A BRUNETTE, A REDHEAD & A BLONDE all worked in the same office with the same female boss. Every day, they noticed their boss left work early. One day, the girls decided that when the boss left, they'd leave right behind her. After all, she never called in or came back to the office when she left early, so how was she to know? The next day, they all three left the office right after the boss left. The brunette was thrilled to be home early. She did a little gardening and went to bed early. The redhead was elated to be able to get in a quick workout at the health club before meeting her dinner date. The blonde was happy, happy, happy to be home, but when she got to the bedroom she heard a muffled noise from inside. Slowly, quietly, she cracked open the door and was mortified to see her husband in bed with HER BOSS. Ever so gently, she closed the door and crept out of her house. The next day at coffee break, the brunette and redhead decided they were leaving early again, and asked the blonde if she was coming with them. "NO WAY," she exclaimed, "I almost got caught yesterday"

Cat DiaryDAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape,and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant.DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vileoppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair...must try this on their bed.DAY 762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...Hmmm. Not working according to plan.DAY 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick mindscould invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer."More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage...DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue and speaks with them regularly. I amcertain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

When my older daughter was 3 or 4, my wife's aunt and uncle came from Kansas to the Boston area to visit us. Her uncle soon became ill and had to be hospitalized. Needless to say, life became very hectic. One night, while waiting for a late dinner, my daughter became cranky. To distract her, my wife started asking her what sound words began with. When my wife asked "what does patience begin with?" my daughter quickly replied, "God."

Man goes into a bar with an ostrich and a cat. The bar tender says "What would you like Sir?" The Man Says "I'll have a pint of beer" He looks at the ostrich and says "What will you have?" "I'll have a pint of beer" says the ostrich. He looks at the cat "What will you have?" Half a pint of beer - but I'm not paying!" . "That will be?12.65" says the bartender. So the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out exactly?12.65. The next day after work the man goes into the same bar. "What'll it be today" says the bartender "Double whisky on the rocks" says the man He looks at the ostrich and says "What will you have?" "I'll join you in a double whisky" says the ostrich He looks at the cat "What will you have?" "Half a pint of beer - but I'm not paying!" "That will be?21.95" says the bartender So the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out exactly?21.95. The next day after work the man goes into the same bar. "Excuse me" the bartender says "I was just wondering why, no matter what the price, you always have the exact change in your pocket?" "Well" says the man "When my grandmother died she left me everything in her house and inside there was a lamp so I rubbed it and out popped a genie. It granted me three wishes so I asked that every time I wanted to buy something I would have the exact change in my pocket" "That's brilliant" says the bartender "You'll never ever run out of money. What else did you ask for?" "A bird with long legs and a tight pussy"

A macho man married a beautiful young thing. On their honeymoon, he laid down the rules. "Now here's the way it's gonna be: I'll go hunting or fishing or card-playing or drinking with my buddies anytime I want to, with no hassle from you. And I'll come home anytime I want to, with no hassle from you. And I'll expect dinner to be on the table whenever I get here, with no hassle from you. Those are my rules. Do you understand?" His new bride smiled sweetly and said, "Of course, dear. That's fine. But I have one little rule of my own: I'm gonna have sex here every night at seven o'clock-whether you're here or not!"

Shul goer As Daniel and his wife Naomi are coming out of shul one shabbes, she says to him, "That Robson girl has put on a lot of weight, dear. Maybe she’s pregnant. What do you think?" "The Robson girl? If she was there, I didn`t see her," replies Daniel. "And did you see that flirty Sharon Kay winking at the boys? Disgraceful, don’t you think, dear?" "I must have been looking the other way when this happened," he replies. "And what do you think about the short dress Rivkah Levy was wearing? That can’t be the right thing for a mother of three children to wear in shul. Don’t you agree, dear?" asks Naomi. "Sorry darling," replies Daniel, "but I didn’t notice her dress." "Well then, you must have seen Kitty Usum drinking all those glasses of wine during Kiddush," she says. "I wasn`t watching Kitty," says Daniel. "Oh for goodness sake," shouts Naomi, "I don’t know why you bother to go to shul these days."

HER STORY: He was in an odd mood when I got to the bar, I thought it might have been because I was a bit late but he didn’t say anything much about it. The conversation was quite slow going so I thought we should go off somewhere more intimate so we could talk more privately. So we went to this restaurant and he’s STILL acting a bit funny and I’m trying to cheer him up and start to wonder whether it’s me or something else. I ask him, and he says no. But you know I’m not really sure. So anyway, in the cab back to his house, I say that I love him and he just puts his arm around me. I don’t know what the hell this means because you know he doesn’t say it back or anything. We finally get back to his place and I’m wondering if he’s going to dump me! So I try to ask him about it but he just switches on the TV. Reluctantly, I say I’m going to go to sleep. Then, after about 10 minutes, he joins me and we have sex. But, he still seemed really distracted, so afterwards I just wanted to leave. I dunno, I just don’t know, what he thinks anymore. I mean, do you think he’s met someone else? HIS STORY: Lousy day at work. Tired. Got laid though.

A fellow nurse at my hospital received a call from an anxious patient."I`m diabetic and I`m afraid I`ve had too much sugar today." the caller said."Are you light-headed?" my colleague asked."No," the caller answered, "I`m a brunette."

A man who drank only beer all his life walked into his regular bar. He asks the bartender, give me a shot of wiskey fast. The bartender says to the man,you have been coming in here for years and all you drink is beer. What seems to be the trouble? The man replys: I just found out my first son is gay.The bartender says ,sorry to hear that. The man drank his drink and left. The next day the same man entered the bar. Bartender give me another shot make it a double! The bartender says what seems to be the problem today? The man repled, I just found out my second son is gay.The bartender replys sorry to hear that. The man drinks his drink and leaves. The next day the same man comes in and says: bartender give me the FUCKING bottle! Then the bartender asks: doesn't anyone in your family like pussy? The man said: yah, my wife.

Fat TheologyAnd God populated the earth with broccoli and cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow vegetable of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.And Satan created McDonald`s. And McDonald`s brought forth the 99-cent double-cheeseburger. And Satan said to Man, "You want fries with that?"And Man said, "Super size them." And Man gained pounds.And God created the healthful yogurt, that woman might keep her figure that man found so fair.And Satan brought forth chocolate. And woman gained pounds.And God said, "Try my crispy fresh salad."And Satan brought forth ice cream. And woman gained pounds.And God said, "I have sent your heart healthy vegetables and olive oil with which to cook them."And Satan brought forth chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter.And Man gained pounds and his bad cholesterol went through the roof.And God brought forth running shoes and Man resolved to lose those extra pounds.And Satan brought forth cable TV with remote control so Man would not have to toil to change channels between ESPN and ESPN2.And Man gained pounds.And God said, "You`re running up the score, Devil."And God brought forth the potato, a vegetable naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition.And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fat fried them. And he created sour cream dip also.And Man clutched his remote control and ate the potato chips swaddled in cholesterol.And Satan saw and said, "It is good."And Man went into cardiac arrest.And God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery.And Satan created HMOs.

Cabbage always has a heart; Green beans string along. You're such a Tomato, Will you Peas to me belong? You've been the Apple of my eye, You know how much I care; So Lettuce get together, We'd make a perfect Pear. Now, something's sure to Turnip, To prove you can't be Beet; So, if you Carrot all for me Let's let our Tulips meet. Don't Squash my hopes and dreams now, Bee my Honey, dear; Or tears will fill Potato's eyes, While Sweet Corn lends an ear. I'll Cauliflower shop and say Your dreams are Parsley mine. I'll work and share my Celery, So be my Valentine.

A man went in to the bank and asked to see the man who arranged the loans. 'I'm sorry, sir,' said a cashier, 'the loan arranger is out to lunch.' 'Can I speak to Tonto, then?' asked the man.

Most women don't know where to look when they're eating a banana.

Can I get you a cold banana?

A man enters a cafe, sits down & notices that the special of the day is cold chili. When the waitress comes to take his order, he says, "I'll take the cold chili." "I'm sorry, the gentlemen next to you got the last bowl," says the waitress. "Oh. I'll just have coffee, then." After a while the man notices that the guy next to him who got the last bowl of cold chili is finishing a rather large meal and the chili bowl is still full. He asks, "Are you going to eat that?" The other man replies, "No." "Would you sell it to me?" "You can have it for free if you want it." So the man takes the bowl of chili and begins to eat it. When he gets about half way through the bowl, he notices a dead mouse in the bowl and pukes the chili back into the bowl. The other man says sympathetically, "That's about as far as I got, too."

Typical macho man married a typical good-looking lady and after the wedding, he laid down the following rules: "I'll be home when I want, if I want and at what time I want-and I don't expect any hassle from you. I expect a great dinner to be on the table unless I tell you that I won't be home for dinner. I'll go hunting, fishing, boozing and card-playing when I want with my old buddies and don't you give me a hard time about it. Those are my rules. Any comments?" His new bride said, "No, that's fine with me. Just understand that there will be sex here at seven o'clock every night... whether you're here or not."

By Rick Steelhammer I realized Valentine's Day was rapidly approaching when my shopping cart collided with a rack of boxer shorts decorated with dancing hearts and open-armed teddy bears while making the rounds at my neighborhood all-night discount store. Figuring out what to buy for Valentine's Day has always been a problem for me. Deciding what not to buy is easier, as in the case of the festive holiday boxers, but doesn't solve the initial problem. Consultations with a variety of Web sites showed me that there is no shortage of gift ideas out there, but I'm still hard-pressed to decide what to get. I've narrowed it down to something between a $250,000 Neiman-Marcus/Nature Conservancy offer to donate a scenic, ecologically important parcel of land in my significant other's name to Wal-Mart's Valentine's suggestion of a Remington nose and ear hair trimmer, which lists for $9.96. I'm hoping to avoid joining the ranks of thousands of other guys who find themselves desperately cruising the all-night groceries, truck stops and convenience stores on the wee hours of Feb. 14, looking for a gift that won't disappoint their sweethearts. But you can go crazy finding the perfect gift. Actually, losing your head is nothing new when it comes to Valentine's Day. Contrary to popular male legend, the holiday was not the brainstorm of the greeting card industry, but a tribute to Valentinus, a bishop of Rome in 269. Valentinus ignored an edict by Emperor Claudius forbidding Roman soldiers from marriage, to prevent them from leaving the army for family life. Valentinus was discovered presiding over secret marriage ceremonies for soldiers and their women and imprisoned. While in jail, he miraculously restored the sight of a blind girl. According to the legend, just before he was beheaded on Feb. 14, 269, he sent the girl a note signed "From your Valentine." The rest, as they say, is history -- though I have a little trouble understanding how a tribute to a beheaded martyr has evolved into an observance marked by the exchange of chocolate-covered cherries and heart-festooned underpants. Even the rounded, triangular-shaped design used to depict the heart bears little resemblance to the pump that distributes blood through the Valentine-buying public. Fact is, it much more closely resembles the prostate gland, which middle-aged males like me worry about at least as much as our hearts. But there's little chance that we'll see Valentine greeting cards with copy like this: "Be with me, love Come hold my hand I feel your presence In my prostate gland."

Men are like fine wine. They all start out like grapes, and it's a woman's job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they mature into something you'd want to have dinner with.