Today is payday. I just did a little budget to see how much spending cash I’m going to have left over after I pay my bills.
And since I can’t go out to eat, I can’t go shopping for anything except groceries, I can’t get a haircut, I can’t go see a movie, I can’t go to a casino and I can’t travel anywhere, it looks like my beer budget just went up by 1200 percent.
Curious when I found two black-and-white negatives in a drawer, I had them made into prints. I was pleasantly surprised to see that they were of a younger, slimmer me, taken on one of my first dates with my husband.
When I showed him the photos, his face lit up. “Wow, look at that!” he said. “It’s my old Plymouth!”
This from my friend Julie. I’m pretty sure we’ve had it before but . . .
For several years, a married man had been having an affair with an Italian woman.
One night, she confided to him that she was pregnant. Not wanting to ruin his marriage, he said he would pay her a large sum of money if she would go to Italy to secretly have the child. If she stayed in Italy to raise the child, he would also provide child support until the child turned 18.
She agreed, but asked how he would know when the baby was born.
To keep it discreet, he told her to simply mail him a post card, and write ‘Spaghetti’ on the back. He would then arrange for the child support to begin.
One day, about 9 months later, he came home to his confused wife.
“Honey,” she said, “you received a very strange post card today.”
“Oh, just give it to me and I’ll explain it later,” he said. The wife watched as her husband read the card, turned white, and fainted.
On the card was written:
Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti.
Two with meatballs, one without.
Send extra sauce.