Opinions… – IOTW Report

Opinions…

That darned cat is right. [And probably sick of lookin’ at his family.]

h/t Jerry Manderin.

19 Comments on Opinions…

  1. Hey PJ. I know a guy who retired from the Postal service. Two weeks later he got a job in a local Mercantile and Liquor store. He couldn’t stand his wife nagging at him 24/7.
    He’s been laid off due to this mess, and I hope he’s still alive.

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  2. Sarthurk, lolol. Hope they didn’t kill each other.

    Unfortunately, I’m not a nag. I have 5 year rule, which I may have to cut shorter ( hee, hee) as we age. I ask once. Wait 5 years, ask again, then when the task takes him 15 minutes I feel I built up much, much equity. 🙂

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  3. PJ, I’ve never been married, but would this work?

    Ask once. If not done in 24 hours, do it yourself. Depending on how handy you are with whatever project you requested your honey to accomplish, you might find him more accommodating for the next project.

    Or, you just might inherit a new job if you did it properly!

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  4. This “essential” light bulb validation engineer has a cat & dog, that have no idea what all this fuss is about. But I’m still disturbed by owning a cat that lets a 60lb dog sniff it’s butt. I mean, seriously…

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  5. I love that President Trump gets the fact that Biden is like gum stuck on the bottom of Obama’s shoe. LOL! Also, President Trump has a great sense of humor.

  6. Claudia can put a re-manufactured 350 motor in a Suburban in 24 hours? That also means taking out the old motor.

    About 15 years ago my dear wife said something about a motor swap taking too long. I said something to the effect of, “The next motor that needs renewal YOU will be there 100% of the time. From discovery, to order, to receiving, to removal, to installation, to tests, to start up, to road test.”

    And she was there through all of it the next time and other next times.

    There wasn’t any more cussing the mechanic after that.

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  7. I had an airhead Beetle fall off the jack on me. My fault, yeah I know. Took me down like 50 pounds of shit in a 10 pound sack. Right above my right knee about half the weight of the car.

    Why am I telling this story?

    Yeah, you come back in the house covered in grease and blood, snot and cigar butts, and say, “It’s done.”

    “What happened to you?”

    “Nothing.”

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