Oh, where is Sam Walton when he is needed? A former Wal-Mart employee told me of a man setting off the alarm when he passed through the detector. He was very irate because he said that the only thing he did was purchase some Pepto Bismol for his ailing wife. In his wild emotional tirade, he began to "pass" CD's out the bottom of his clothes. A loyal employee restrained him and took him to the manager. The employee was fired, and the thief (or should I say "suspect," since he was not yet found guilty by a jury of people who were clueless) was awarded a $50.00 gift card so that he would not be offended by getting caught red-handed.
Um... If this is a partially true story,
then there must be more to it, as it doesn't particularly make any sense whatsoever.
Maybe the rest of the story (sorry, Paul Harvey) is that the employee was fired for touching the customer? Then, the gift card was a bribe to keep the thief from suing the pants off of Wal-mart?
Also, this story doesn't particularly seem especially funny, despite your decision to put it in the Funny Bone. It's more of a head scratcher. Maybe we need an outrage of the day forum added to Poasters?
I heard "Outrage Of The Day" so I clocked in.
You know, I use the Bone for head scratching stuff that isn't funny. First off, I usually think something's funny but I'm the only one who does. Second, I don't want to glom into the Poast Office gas leaks and name calling and photo shoots with other news items or panda remakes.
I am still pondering passing CD's out the bottom of one's clothes... Hey Buff, you thought passing gases was cool but check this out! No wonder they didn't want them back.
See, the funny thing is, WalMart polices their CDs and prevents you from buying anything that will stunt your growth or soil your soul or mess with your mind... You can only purchase whole grain wholesome fare that makes you a better person. They probably won't carry the new Janet Jackson one.
He was probably just so full of goodness it had to come crashing out onto the floor.
I'm always amused by people who shoplift meat from grocery stores. Whatever it takes to make the dog play with you, I guess.
Ace; is not especially funny.
Quote from: Neon on October 02, 2006, 00:11 hrs
Also, this story doesn't particularly seem especially funny, despite your decision to put it in the Funny Bone. It's more of a head scratcher. Maybe we need an outrage of the day forum added to Poasters?
You probably are right. I guess the reason I put it here is that my first reaction was to laugh. And, you are also right in that the presumed-innocent-before-being-completely-exonerated was
restrained by the employee. I think I may have been corrupted by Bill O'Reilly who often says things are ridiculous when they are not at all. What the Heck, the Devil made me do it, as Flip Wilson would have said.
Hey, that reminds me of another Walmart story.
When his 38-caliber revolver failed to fire at his intended victim during a hold-up at the local Walmart, would-be robber Mike Hunt did something that can only inspire wonder. He peered down the barrel and tried the trigger again. This time it worked.....
Ok then, just one more Walmart story.
When a man attempted to siphon gasoline from a motor home parked next to the local Walmart, he got much more than he bargained for. Police arrived at the scene to find a very sick man curled up next to a motor home near spilled sewage. A police spokesman said that the man admitted to trying to steal gasoline and plugged his siphon hose into the motor home's sewage tank by mistake. The owner of the vehicle declined to press charges?.
Quote from: ja on October 02, 2006, 10:33 hrs
I would wing-walk before I handled a firearm.
Neither are even on my to-do list.
;D
Actually, wing-walking with a spear gun is much safer than regular wing-walking, because if you fall off, then you can simply reel yourself back up to the wing.
You know, John Lithgow had a gun while watching a wing walker in that old Twilight Zone...
Hey, J, I LOVE Red Green. And Ranger Bob and duct tape and his nephew Harold and the whole gang. I would always watch that, if given a chance.
Ace; if the women don't find you handsome they at least should find you handy.
Gord. That's it. I knew Bob wasn't right, but at least I could spell it. You know, "Gourd" would be a good name, for fall.
We had a (0)possum right up at the back porch last week. I made noise and barked, but it didn't faze him. Didn't move him, either. This place is kinda like a Lodge. We should have a secret handshake, besides the mysterious password "poast."
Ace; don't tell me. Let me guess what it is.
Are we sure it isn't "Theif"? It just doesn't look right to me.
I like WalMart jokes, too, since I think they're a joke and I shop at Super Target. Well, mostly because it's Super. WalMart and K-Mart should merge, and form WalKMart. I still wouldn't shop there.
You know something Australian that's not good on a Barbie? Steve Irwin. My ex-boss once had to pick up Red Green at the airport when he flew into town for a public TV fundraiser. Which would be cool, except for the fact that she was the most humourless Accountant I've ever had the displeasure to work with. What a waste of a trip.
Ace; my wife thinks it's silly when I bark out the window at yard animals. I don't know what her problem is.
Geez no, I'm not an Accountant. Criminy, you've seen how I spell. Imagine how I'd butcher numbers.
She was, though. In a non-Accounting related role. So she could be dull and boring and even more ineffective. And bothersome. I don't miss her.
Ace; I work best without supervision.
And while we're on the subject, Steve Irwin isn't Austrailian Australien Aussie. At the moment and for perpetuity.........
Bill
Yeah, like he said. By golly, I'm gonna be an Indian from Michiana nobody what condition I'm in.
I bet his kids don't own any Barbie dolls, either.
Ok, anyway, what do you mean "what's my MO"? Criminy, you may as well ask "What's your Curly" or "What's your Larry"... Of course, nobody cares what anyone's Shep is.
Ace; nyuk nyuk nyuk
Actually, I thought it was opus operandi. Unless you're watching the afternoon talk shows, and it'd be Opus Oprahandi. Add Bloom County, and it's Opus (and Bill the Cat)operandi. Operhandy, on Red Green.
"Mode of Operation", as it were. Was. I got if from Law # shoot $ wait @ hold it& there Order. I hate keyboarding when it's still dark... this dang black keyboard can be tough.
So, anyway, I don't think I have one. A mode, that is. I'm pretty modeless. Sans Mode. Not even A La Mode. I think that's Italian for "With a Mode." I've got a Mode-Em. I got another US Robotics. It costs more than the cheapos, and I really don't know if it's "better" but I've never had it go bad so figured may as well do that again. Someday I sure hope I'm connected in a better faster way and not dialing up anyway.
Oh. Maybe that's my MO: dialup. I'm a little slow, anyway, so that could be a good excuse. Yeah. "Ace is a little slow, so be considerate with him. It's not his fault, it's his MO."
Ace; geez, I'm old enough to remember Haley's M.O."
J,
One could say Irwin was Australian but not he is...'cause he isn't, now or any more, and forever.'
How do you know he's not Australian if he's dead?! Did you talk with him? Get his phone number, through Houdini? Would you not be "Bill" even if you were no more? Who would we be if we weren't us, after we're gone? I don't mean "Poasters", per se (or "Poster" in the case of some/one..). I mean who we was. Is. Yeah, still is. Who we was.
Heck, maybe when I'm dead I'll be alive. I mean, that's the whole Nirvana goal, right? Not necessarily the "if I blow myself up for the cause I get a bunch of nubile virgins as room mates" by something nice, none the less. I don't mean Nirvana the band, although I guess it's possible to meet up with Kurt Cobain in that great white tractor beam.
Boy, I hope he still doesn't have the shotgun, though..
Oh, or Jennifer Love Hewitt, whispering to other ghosts. Hold on a minute; better not go there. In case I am able to also meet up with my wife, if/when she is too. I know she'd get the shotgun if it was available.
I wonder if you can get killed if you're dead? I bet with my luck or MO I probably could. That'd stink.
And, no, there are no pandas in heaven. If I do smell some roasting I'll figure I made a wrong turn. That'd bring up the great conundrum; is it better to be alive after you're dead but in torment, or just not? Or just floating in nothingness, still you but nowhere? I was reading about the Noble Science award thing, where they found the earliest traces of light from the Big Bang as evidence of it, and jiving with the whole theory.
Then my brain hurt, and I went on to something else.
Ace; I bet some people remain a Scot, after death even.
Well that raises the existentialstic question "If a memory of me exists, do I exist?" And, the converse.
And about that keyboarding in the dark thing.... You might try turning on a light, seems to work for me.
Bill; what's after ashes?
Oh, I tried the light. It wasn't enough, apparently. I actually set my cool blue "gaming" light on the shelf that's UNDER the keyboard, to shine up and reflect. Of course, I didn't have that on, at the time.
I think after ashes is "all fall down" if I remember right.
Ace; there's times here that I forgot who I really am.
Yeah, I don?t know about that afterlife stuff, but I can see myself stuck out there on the Plain of Virtuous Pagans.
Geez, I remember the BVD jokes from the old old Q chatroom...
Pat, you are living one lousy existence as a Pagan if the trees are attacking you... I don't know what Pagan Heck would be, but I'd be looking out for that if I was you...
Ace; if he was on the Plane of Virtuous Pagans they'd toss him out.
I hope I?d have the foresight to grab the backpack that had the parachute and not the one with the food.
Umm, would that have been the Boulevard Joke?
I wonder how long after a tree falls, you don?t hear it anymore?
I thought there were 3 wise guys. But it's way too early for Satan Clause and Rudolph whizzing and all that. We've still got a chance at Murphy's Lawn Abomination and Thanksgiving before then.
You know, I gotta mention... I'm looking out my window while flipping between the Bears and Colts, and I see the guy beside Murphy mowing his lawn. I know this is gonna drive Murphy nuts, so pretty soon he's pushing out the Lawnboy. Honestly, I don't know why anyone uses those things... I find mowing in a blue haze very unpleasant, and like with a duo-core I think 4 cycle tops 2. Anyone, Murphy wheels the machine out and proceeds to not start it. The thing has a pull that could induce whiplash, and he's yanking and yanking.. then fiddling with it. Then yanking and yanking and fiddling. You can see the pattern develop. For over 20 minutes. Finally stands there, hands on hips, looking like he's ready to cry or surrender.
He then walks to the garage. Comes back with a gas can. Puts quite a bit in. After some more yanks and fiddles lo and behold (no, not "A Star! A Star!" I said it's too early) the thing fires.
Go. Figure.
Ace; he makes normal maroons look pink. Think on that.
So what was the guy doing beside Murphy? They joined at the hip?
I mean normal men don't stand that close to other men. 'Cept in an elevator or subway, and then one is probably picking the pocket of the other.
You live in a strange neighborhood. 'Course maybe that's why.
Bill