I've Had Just About Enough Of That Ron

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Vol 35 Issue 03

The Hendersons' Towels, Frankly, Are Not That Impressive

I was peeking out my bedroom window at the brand-new Lexus LS 400 in the Hendersons' driveway when my husband Gary walked in and announced that we were invited to guess whose house for cocktails that evening. That's right, Mark and Linda Henderson's.

Waitress Creeped Out By Overtipper

UTICA, NY—A $7 tip for a $1.59 breakfast special creeped out Ed's Diner waitress Juliet Drake Monday, leaving her feeling uneasy about the implications of the diner's unusual generosity. "God, I hope he wasn't putting the moves on me," Drake, 26, told fellow waitress Paulette Rudd. "If he comes back, get ready to switch sections with me." The unidentified overtipper, described as a heavy-set, fortyish, blue-collar type, has dined at Tom's an estimated 10 times in the past two weeks. The size of his previous tips are unknown at this time.

Laughter Now Exclusively Used To Mask Feelings

WASHINGTON, DC—According to a study released Tuesday by the National Institute of Emotional Studies, laughter, long employed as a cathartic response to absurd or humorous stimuli, is now used solely to conceal contempt and fear from fellow human beings. "The original purpose of laughter, to express joy and delight, began waning in the 1960s with the advent of TV laugh tracks, which replaced humans in the task of laughing at jokes," the report stated. "Today, 50 percent of all laughter is used as sarcastic mockery of failed attempts at humor, with the remaining 50 percent used to create the illusion of comfort in situations involving tension or deceit." The report follows a groundbreaking May 1998 study by the institute which found that crying may eventually evolve into a tool used solely for the manipulation of other people.

Junior-High-School Badminton Unit Inspires 948 'Shuttlecock' Jokes

REDDING, CA—A junior-high gym-class badminton unit resulted in 948 "shuttlecock"-based double entendres Monday, shattering the previous mark of 761. The 948 jokes, all but three delivered by boys, ranged from "Look, I'm whacking my shuttlecock" to "Check out the little red tips on those cocks." Top honors went to eighth-grader Brian Fitch, 14, who ran around the gym shouting, "Where's my cock? I can't find my cock—it was here a minute ago!" followed by a long string of marginally varied quips.

Pre-Millennium Tension

With less than a year to go before the dawn of a new millennium, doomsayers are predicting everything from a global computer collapse to Armageddon. What do you think about the growing Y2K anxiety?
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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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  • Child Visiting Ellis Island Sees Where Grandparents Once Toured

    ELLIS ISLAND, NY—Pausing to imagine the throngs of people who must have arrived with them that day back in 1994, 12-year-old Max Bertrand reportedly spent his visit to Ellis Island this afternoon walking around the same immigrant station his grandparents once toured.

I've Had Just About Enough Of That Ron

Hola amigos. What do ya know? Me, I've been laid lower than a centipede's dick lately. You see, for about two weeks now, I've had this cold that I just can't shake. I've tried everything—sleeping, eating soup, drinking Sunny D—but nothing's helped. Hell, I've felt so shitty, I haven't enjoyed a delicious MGD in about four days, and if you know anything about Jim Anchower, then you know things must be pretty serious.

On top of the health problems, my damn car was snowed in for about three weeks after the big storm. I just got it out last week, only with about $300 worth of tickets on it. See, it ain't that I'm a lazy ass, it's just that I'd spend an hour getting it shoveled out, only then it wouldn't start. Then, I'd get all pissed off and go inside, and try again the next day. A few days later, I'd have to shovel it out all over again because I'd get plowed in. I figure that's when I got sick, when I was freezing my nuts off trying to get my car out. Just goes to show you.

I racked my brain trying to figure out why it wouldn't start. It was freezing out, sure, but that never stopped it before. After trying all kinds of stuff, including sticking a hair dryer under the hood for four hours, I finally figured it out: I just needed a new set of spark plugs! One 20-minute quick fix, and I'd be on my way. Only problem was, I also needed a new socket wrench, since I messed mine up trying to turn it into a bowl.

I figured I'd give Ron a call to see if he could loan me his. Problem was, as it turned out, the socket wrench I tried turning into a bowl was actually his. I'd forgotten that I borrowed it. After about five minutes of sweet-talking him, I managed to get Ron to pick me up so we could go to the hardware store and get a new one. Only catch was, I had to promise I'd buy him one, too. That rat!

Anyway, Ron took his sweet time in coming over, and by the time he got to my place, it was dark out. I was plenty steamed, but he said that all stores are open late these days because they had to suit the customer's needs. Fortunately for his ass, the stores were open. First we went to the auto-parts store, where we got my spark plugs. Then we cruised on over to the hardware store to get the socket wrench. All the while, Ron wouldn't shut up and was really pissing me off.

By the time we got to the hardware store, I was about an ass hair away from kicking the crap out of Ron. I didn't plan to hang around the store for too long, so he waited in the car while I went in to find the socket wrenches. I got two of the cheapest ones they had, since, as I said, I had to buy one for Ron, too. I went back to the car and threw the socket wrench at Ron, and we drove back, him yakking the whole time about stupid shit like how he got the high score on Killer Instinct but the power went out so it wasn't up there any more.

By this point, I wanted to just get rid of Ron, but since he was doing me a favor by driving, I didn't want to be rude and tell him to get the hell out of my sight. Anyway, we popped the hood on my car and went to work. I knew I was right on the money about the spark plugs, since they were almost impossible to get out. I spent about 15 minutes giving myself a hernia to get that first spark plug out, it was so corroded.

When I got to the second one, Ron was still jabbering, only now it was about how this old guy who lives next door to him was one of the Little Rascals. I heaved and pushed at the plug, and it was starting to give when the socket wrench stripped out. I was mad as hell, especially at Ron, who was going off about those half-sized Ziploc bags that are made to hold weed. I yelled that he made me wreck my new socket wrench. Then I realized I still needed a socket wrench and that Ron was the one who could help me.

I spent another few minutes saying I was sorry and buttering him up. Then I asked if I could borrow his wrench. He thought about it for a minute (or pretended to think) and then was like, "No way, you'll break this one, too." That was it. I slammed the hood and went inside, leaving Ron to cool his heels and think about what he'd done. After 10 minutes, I peeked out the window, and he was gone.

So, to make a long story short, Ron's on my shit-list in a big way. He must know that, 'cause he ain't been by lately. If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him. Now, I ain't saying I'm gonna kick his ass. We just gotta have a talk. Clear the air, so to speak.

My car still ain't running. The only way I could get it moved was to have Wes "The Bomb" Baumgarten come by and push it. He was a trouper, not like that worthless son of a bitch Ron. On second thought, I am gonna kick Ron's ass. Only don't tell him. It's gotta be a surprise.

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