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Beau Wann, Jr.
Good morrow to youse youtes, fellow Waltripians. I see nobody knows the answer to my quextion in the above post, or doesnt care. Eyether way, that counts as half of one third of four fifths of your grade, and a partridge in a pair of trees. Or, no one is reading this stuff anymore, more important things to do, like straightening up the old sock drawer, or mopping the floors, or have a life. Well, no matter, cause I still read this stuff, and it's quite interesting too. "I said that?"
Who out there has hearing aids? What am I saying, who doesnt? I dont wear mine at home, nothing I really need to hear. The DOG, Dixie-Belle, barks loud enough for me to let her and her entourage in or out, so no problem there. I cant hear the cats hollaring for food, but they generally couple their hollaring with head butting me in the ankle, so no real problem there. Diane still asks, "you cant hear that"? No, no I cant! I figure if there is an emergency the little woman will hollar loud enough for me to hear, plus I can detect a note of ergency and concern in someones facial expressions, I'm not blind, yet.
Since we were having company, we were as always, and I assume lots of folks do this, tidy and spruce up the olde homestead, you know, cleaning the dogs nose art off the windows, cats hairballs off the couch and guest bed, you know the drill. Well, Diane asks me if I would get the 3 in ! oil and oil the hinges. "What hinges?" I reply. "The ones that are squeaking" she says with just a touch of annoyance in her voice. "Youre going to have to be just a tad specific" says I with even more annoyance in my voice.
"THE FRONT DOOR, YOU DONT HEAR THAT?" she says, with what I thought was just a tad too testy. "I'M DEAF" I shout with even more testiness, "HOW THE HECK DO I KNOW WHICH DOOR IS SQUEAKING?" now I'm getting angry! Diane senses that I am now on the verge of ripping a door, any door, off it's hinges, so she comes over and gently takes my arm and guides me to the door with the offiending hinges. "You really cant hear that?" she says. "Nope, and nope and NO", I reply. She apologizes and asks very softly if I would tell her where the oil can is and she will oil them.
"NOT ON MY WATCH, I'M A GUY, I'M SUPPOSE TO DO ALL THE OILING AROUND HERE" I thundered, so out to ye olde mancave to fetch the oil I march. Lots of sidetrack time later I go back in he house, minus the oil. "You couldnt find the oil?" Diane asks. "OH, so that's why I went out to the garage, ok, give me a minute and I'll go fetch the oil". So it goes on and on, everyday, just like that. Oh, I did finally oil the non-squeaking, squeaking hinges, and now I'm assured that they dont squeak anymore. Yea me! ! !
I think tha Izz has learned to read, or trying to read anyhoo. However, and aint there always a however, eating the cover off books is not a good thing. I found teeth marks and tattered spine on one of my dictionaries and on one of our many bibles. While I try to encourage all our critters to better their circumstance, hmmmm, for a critter, it doesnt get any better than living here. Room service 24/7, etc. However, eating the reading material is frowned upon by the establishment.
I was thinking that maybe tha IZZ was reading the bible and then looked up woids in the dictionary she didnt understand . At least that's how I'm going to tell it. But why those two books? They really dont look all that tasty to me anyway. I guess it's different strokes for different folks, er dogs.
Ah such is life in the Great Cephussleeve household. Remember the Great Gildersleeve movies? Never did like those, or the William Bendix shows or Amos n Andy. They were always doing stupid things and getting in trouble, and I've allus tried to stay away from the T woid. Not allus successful, but tried nonetheless.
Ok, time to deplane, got to get ready to reread this since no one else ever gets on here...keep the sun at your six and "ride boldly ride..."
Your frien and resident deaf dumb and blind guy, Cephus R Magoo esq
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