I was going through some of my old stuff in storage and I found a couple things that my dad had sent on to me. I'm thankful for his goofy humor.
My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned: couldn't concentrate.
Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I just couldn't hack it, so they gave me the axe.
After that I tried to be a tailor, but I just wasn't suited for it. Mainly because it was a so-so job.
Next I tried working in a muffler factory, but that was exhausting.
I worked as a pilot, but eventually got grounded for taking off too much.
Then I tried teaching, but I couldn't make the grade.
I spent a few years as a Psychiatrist, but everyone's problems drove me crazy.
I wanted to be a barber, but I couldn't cut it.
Then I tried to be a chef - figured it would add a little spice to my life, but I just didn't have the thyme.
I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn't cut the mustard.
My best job was being a musician, but eventually I found it wasn't noteworthy.
I was a pretty good eye doctor, but I could not stay focused on the job.
I worked a long time as a doctor. I gave it my best shot, but didn't have the patients.
Next was a job in a shoe factory, but it never touched my sole.
The Energizer Battery Company hired me but then expected me to keep going, and going, and going...
I became a professional fisherman, but discovered that I couldn't live on my net income.
Thought about becoming a witch, so I tried that for a spell.
I managed to get a good job working for a pool maintenance company, but the work was just too draining.
I got a job at a zoo feeding giraffes, but I was fired because I wasn't up to it.
So, then I got a job in a gymnasium (work-out-center), but they said I wasn't fit for the job.
Of course, I tried being a secretary, but it turned out not to be my type of work.
My years as an exterminator were pretty good, but I got tired of the rat race.
Next, I found being an electrician interesting, but the work was shocking even though it kind of turned me on.
I was a gardener for a while, but I didn't grow with the job even though it was raking in the money.
My career as a comedian was a stand-up success, but the critics thought I was a big joke.
After many years of trying to find steady work I finally got a job as a historian until I realized there was no future in it.
My last job was working at Starbucks, but I had to quit because it was always the same old grind.
You got any ideas? I'm open for suggestions... maybe you have something that WORKS.... cause I don't!
If My Nose Was Running Money - Aaron Wilburn
Mammogram
I've read several of these funny mammogram stories, but even as a man, this one made me laugh until I cried (literally).
The first mammogram is always the worst. Especially when the machine catches on fire. That's what happened to me. The technician, Gail, positioned me exactly as she wanted me (think a really complicated game of Twister -- right hand on the blue, left shoulder on the yellow, right breast as far away as humanly possible from the rest of your body). Then she clamped the machine down so tight, I think my breast actually turned inside out. I'm pretty sure Victoria's secret doesn't have a bra for that.
Suddenly, there was a loud popping noise. I looked down at my right breast to make sure it hadn't exploded. Nope, it was still flat as a pancake and still attached to my body. "Oh no!" Gail said loudly. These are, perhaps, the words you least want to hear from any health professional. Suddenly, she came flying past me, her lab coat whipping behind her, on her way out the door. She yelled over her shoulder, "The machine's on fire, I'm going to get help!"
Okay, I was wrong, "The machine's on fire," are the worst words you can hear from a health professional. Especially if you're all alone and semi-permanently attached to A MACHINE and don't know if it's THE MACHINE in question.
I struggled for a few seconds trying to get free, but even Houdini couldn't have escaped. I decided to go to plan B: yelling at the top of my lung (the one that was still working). I hadn't seen anything on fire, so my panic hadn't quite reached epic proportions. But then I started to smell smoke coming from behind the partition. This is ridiculous, I thought. I can't die like this. What would they put in my obituary? Cause of death: Breast entrapment? I may have inhaled some fumes because I started to hallucinate. An imaginary fireman rushed in with a fire hose and a hatchet.
"Howdy ma'am," he said. "What happened here?" he asked, averting his eyes. "My breasts were too hot for the machine," I quipped, as my imaginaryfireman ran out of the room again. "This is gonna take the Jaws of Life!" In reality, Gail returned with a fire extinguisher and put out the fire. She gave me a big smile and released me from the machine, "Sorry! That's the first time that's ever happened. Why don't you take a few minutes to relax before we finish up?"
I think that's what she said. I was running across the parking lot in my backless paper gown at the time. After I relax for a few years, I figure I might go back. But I'm to bring my own firefighter.
Homeschool Family - Tim Hawkins
