A Day At The Senior Center

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Vol 33 Issue 25

Hero Lawyer Uses Technicality To Free Guilty Man

SAN BERNARDINO, CA—Kenneth Michael Rafferty was set free Tuesday thanks to the heroism of attorney Morgan Schechter, who discovered a loophole in California arraignment procedure that made Rafferty's July 20 sentencing for armed robbery invalid. "I owe my freedom to Morgan Schechter," a teary-eyed Rafferty told reporters following his release. "If not for him, I would be facing the prospect of 30 years in prison for a crime I did commit."

Man Takes Free Thing He Doesn't Want

MESA, AZ—Despite a complete lack of interest in skin moisturization, area electrician Drew Shymanski took a complimentary six-ounce sample bottle of new Pond's Extra-Soft moisturizing lotion from a company representative while walking home Monday. "I don't know, it was free," Shymanski said of the no-obligation sample. Upon returning home, Shymanski put the lotion in his bathroom cabinet, where it will remain unopened for seven years.

Report: 98 Percent Of Americans Afraid Of 98 Percent Of Americans

WASHINGTON, DC—An ABC News/Washington Post poll released Tuesday revealed that 98 percent of Americans live in fear of a full 98 percent of other Americans. "Between the criminal element, salesmen, religious zealots, alcoholics, minorities, immigrants, fast-driving teens, employers and panhandlers, a total of 49 in 50 Americans present a fearsome image to the vast majority of their fellow citizens," the report read. Newborn babies, the elderly and the infirm are believed to comprise the non-feared 2 percent.

Sometimes I Think I Have ESP!

I don't know about you, but I've always been tempted to call one of those psychic phone lines. After all, who wouldn't want to know what's going to happen to them in the future? (But then I made a prediction of my own: If hubby Rick saw all those 900 numbers on our next phone bill, my own future would be pretty brief!)
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Just Like Everything Else!: Fox 8 p.m. EDT/7 p.m. ABC Pete's wife is still on him about building that darn shed, these kids are going to be the death of Sheila and Dave, and the hot next-door neighbor is up in EVERYBODY'S business! Sunday nights on ABC couldn't be any more familiar!

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Scientists Posit Theoretical ‘Productive Weekend’

CAMBRIDGE, MA—Challenging long-accepted scientific convention, a group of leading MIT scientists published a report Thursday positing that, under certain rare and specific conditions, a so-called “productive weekend” is theoretically pos...

A Day At The Senior Center

Last Thursday, I woke to discover enormous clothes-moths flapping about my bed-chamber. Horrified, I screamed for Standish, who valiantly tried to slay the winged brutes with a can of Flit. It was soon determined that other rooms were similarly besieged with moths, and that the entire mansion had to be evacuated for fumigation.

As I was wheeled to the court-yard, there was a danger that the exposure to the out-of-doors would cause me to contract pneumonia. So Doc McGillicuddy, my personal physician, recommended that I be taken to what he called the "Senior Day Center" down in the village. There, I could relax and enjoy the companionship of other elderly citizens until the mansion was freed of pests.

As my carriage pulled up to the center, I was aghast at what I saw. "Take me back immediately!" I ordered. "This is the County Home For The Destitute & Infirm! This is no place for a Zweibel!" But Doc explained that the Home was closed in 1947, and that ever since then, the building has served as a sort of recreational meeting-lodge for the elderly.

Wheeled inside, I was soon thrust into a group of people who were not elderly in the slightest. Looking to be in their 70s or 80s, they were young enough to be my grand-children! One of these whipper-snappers dared to speak to me. "Mr. Zweibel, sir!" he said, his face grotesquely contorted into a toothless smile. "As a lad, I used to shine your shoes! You had my out-of-work father jailed for vagrancy! We starved for months! Do you remember me?" I tartly replied that I did not.

Then, a woman in a nurse's outfit beckoned us into an adjoining room for what she called "exercise time." She switched on a gramophone, which played a horrendous, cacophonous nonsense involving a great deal of trumpets and trombones, which I later learned was known as "swinging" music. And, indeed, the youths began to clap their hands and rock feebly in their wheel-chairs. Preferring the menacing of enormous clothes-moths over the undulations of pagan savages, I loudly insisted that I be delivered from this coven of Satan immediately. The youth of to-day have definitely gone to pot!

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