Today's stories [5.13.08]

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I work as a flight attendant and once as we waited just off the runway 
for another airliner to cross in front of us, some of the passengers were 
beginning to retrieve luggage from the overhead bins. The head attendant 
announced on the intercom, "This aircraft is equipped with a video 
surveillance system that monitors the cabin during taxiing. Any 
passengers not remaining in their seats until the aircraft comes to a 
full and complete stop at the gate will be strip-searched as they leave 
the aircraft."

Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable.  No matter how legitimate
my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.

On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth
was too humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury
and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could
think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.

The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to
adopt a cute little kitty.  Initially the new acquisition was no problem, 
but one morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my 
wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.  "Ed!  The garbage disposal is 
dead.  Come reset it."

"You know where the button is." I protested through the shower (pitter-
patter). "Reset it yourself!"

"I am scared!" She pleaded.  "What if it starts going and sucks me in?"
(Pause) "C'mon, it'll only take a second."

So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement
about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence. I crouched 
down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last 
action I remember performing.

It struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances. Nay, it
wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was 
our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between 
my legs.  She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took 
the bait under the sink.  At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, 
she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her 
needle-like claws.

I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, while
rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a 
kitten hanging from my masculine region. Wild animals are sometimes faced 
with a "fight or flight" syndrome.  Men, in this predicament, choose only 
the "flight" option.  Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet bluntly 
impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.

When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully
briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their
work while suppressing hysterical laughter.

At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept 
silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.

Noted Dough Boy Dies

Veteran Pillsbury spokesman Pop N. Fresh died Wednesday
of a severe yeast infection He was 71. He was buried Friday
in one of the biggest funerals in years. Dozens of
celebrities turned out including Mrs. Butterworth, the
California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker, and the
Hostess Twinkies The graveside was piled high with flours,
as longtime friend Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy,
describing Fresh as a man who "never knew he was kneaded".

Fresh rose quickly in show business, but his later life was
filled with turnovers. He was not considered a smart cookie,
and wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes. Still,
even as a crusty old man, he was a roll model to millions.
Fresh is survived by his second wife. They had two children,
and... one in the oven. 

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