“Son, beware of city women that smell too good, country women that act too good, and old women with fast hands.”

Pretty profound, huh? I thought so, too. Funny thing, though, since then I’ve learned a little more about life, and have picked up on something rather interesting. She was one hundred percent right about watching out for the smelly city women, the too good country women, and she was very, very right about the fast handed old women, but I’ve discovered that it’s not these type women that men need to watch out for the most. In my experience, the women that you need to watch out for the most, in fact, the women that you need to give a very wide berth to, is those women with thick ankles.

That’s right, women with thick ankles. I mean, think about it for a second, women with thick ankles need to be given plenty of space. Ed Jr. whole heartedly agrees. When I asked him about this, he told me that women with big ankles naturally have bad dispositions. He said that they really have no choice, if you think about it. When I asked him why, he said that whenever big ankled women lay down that their ankles rub together. “And son, over time, they build up calluses, so it has to hurt, and it would right smart affect a person’s disposition. Think about it, a person’s ankles clunking together over and over and over again. Imagine how it would affect it a person after years of it. They’d end up being one mean, easy to rile up, parentheses legged person. When it gets down to it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman with thick ankles who’s been in a good mood.”

That’s a pretty profound statement. It also makes tons of sense. There’s just no upside to thick ankled women. If one is out walking around somewhere, her ankles just might clunk together and create a potential accident situation for both herself and others. And thick ankles can’t be disguised, if the woman wears white socks, they’ll look like softballs, if she wears orange socks it’ll be even worse as they’ll look like basketballs. Or maybe even pumpkins. And I don’t guess that there are any plastic surgeons out there who can help with this problem, after all, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone getting an “ankle lift” before. It’s a bad situation anyway you happen to look at it, and then some.

I’ve talked this over with the Happy Divorcee, aka the Pip, and he swears that he’ll never date a thick ankled woman. I’ve also talked it all out with Ray and Hugh, and we’ve decided that we’ll immediately institute a ban on any potential future visits by thick ankled women over at the IHOP. We don’t need the potential liability involved, nor can those thick ankles banging around together sound very good, it might even interfere with the BTO, Elvis, and 2 Live Crew music that we all like to listen to. And that by itself is plenty of justification for the ban.

Young men of the Southeast (and beyond), take this column as a public service reminder for yourselves – you’ve been warned both by the Godfather and The Brotherhood about thick ankled women, so take heed. Remember – you can live with a woman who has mean relatives, uses too much perfume, or makes you buy feminine hygiene products. That can all be dealt with by gritting your teeth and cussing under your breath. But big ankles? Man, if you go out and get hooked up with a thick ankled woman, you deserve to have your bank accounts drained as only Dr. Sholls can do it….

About the Author

Ed’s latest book, “Rough As A Cob,” can be ordered by calling River City Publishing toll-free at: 877-408-7078. He’s also a popular after dinner speaker, and his column runs in a number of Southeastern publications. You can contact him via email at: ed3@ed-williams.com, or through his web site address at: www.ed-williams.com.

Now I’m not saying you should be a cheapskate but if you go around wasting money you won’t be able to say you are “Pennywise”

Now a good example of how to save money is this. You might be down at the mall or Ice Skating and you find yourself getting hungry.

You could immediately go to a local fried chicken or hamburger franchise. There you will find amyriad of ways to “Waste your money”… Yes thats right!!

Now when a detective arrives on a crime scene one of the first questions he should ask himself is this “Who stands to gain financially from this crime?”

See what I mean? You spend your good money so someone can poison you with overdoses of sugar, chemicals, transfats etc etc.

A better idea is this. Cut some fresh fruit into small easy to bite pieces, put it into a plastic bag and take it with you when you go out. You might be in a barbershop or haberdashery for example when hunger pangs stike. No problem, two peices of melon are quickly taken from the pocket, delicious.

Don’t worry if you feel this is contrary to todays “norm”. It is. But if you want to start a trend… THIS IS the way to do it. Maybe yo can discover another way to eat a banana or something and get the method named after you. I’m not kidding. Ask the EARL of SANDWICH if you think I’m kidding.

Good Luck

About The Author

Roger Soverhead

If you use this article ….. well have you read it? What can I say…maybe its the wine. This author has written several articles and sometimes wears a paper hat.

hoowz@yahoo.com

Back before he decided to be a teacher Mister Tony did some exciting stuff, he was over in Russia and he got cot by the KYB and they throwed him in this place called the doologs that was very cold and all they ever fed you was potatoes. Another time he was saline across the ocean and he got stuck in this place called the doldrums where the wind never blows and him and his friends had to paddle there boat across it and it took a long time and they ran out of food and had to eat flying fish.

Another thing that Mister Tony did that was neat was back when he was a boy he learned Kung Fu, he was over in China for a long time and this guy named Gandy tot him Kung Fu. He said he would teach Mister Tony on one condishun, that he promised never to use his Kung Fu to be a bully. Mister Tony had a black belt for Kung Fu, accept it didn’t have a big buckle or his name on the back like normal belts did.

I could talk for a long time about Mr. Tony because he had a very interesting life, accept I should probably tell you different things about my 4rth grade year.

There was my 2nd cousin Ricky in my 4rth grade class. Growing up I had 8 cousins, my 1st cousin Missy was in 6th grade that year and I can not remember what grades my other cousins was in accept I do remember that my 8th cousin little Jenny was not in school yet. Anyways Ricky had this girl friend that was a 4rth grader in my class, her name was Lisa. She was a little pretty accept she was very mean for a girl, even back then she was mean for a girl. One time she fell off the magic carpet and broke her nose, she laid there on the ground and moaned accept we couldn’t understand what she was saying because she was laying with her face in the dirt. Some of the 4rth graders laughed because she was always mean to them. Finally Mrs. Chritchunson came running up and said “I think you have broken your nose. We better get you to the hospital!” They took her to the hospital and put a cast on her nose, accept she didn’t let us sign it like Maria did when she broke her arm. Later Mrs. Christchnson came up to us that watched Lisa fall off the magic carpet and said “The next time Lisa falls off the magic carpet and breaks her nose, will you please come and tell me?” accept the way she said it was different.

I remember one morning in the 4rth grade that started out before 4rth grade started, in the morning. It was a Friday and my mom got me up at 6 am so I could watch the house while she went down to this place, I can’t remember the name but they all jumped up and down and bounced around and did stretches and such. Like my mom did every morning she said “Please just watch cartoons and don’t get into anything, I will be back at 7, if anything happens call 911″ and my mom left the number for 911 right by the phone with where we lived on a piece of paper so if something bad did happen I could call 911 and tell them where we lived.

This morning there was no good cartoons on t.v. and I didn’t want to watch t.v. so I went into the kitchen thinking to myself “there must be something fun in here” and I looked for something fun until I found a box of matches in the cupboard. Now I had used matches before to start the stoves burning, and I knew how to use matches, accept never before did I have a whole box of matches. “This could be fun” I said to myself, accept I didn’t really say this.

I don’t know why but I struck a match and watched it burn, then throwed it in the kitchen stove. I also do not know why but I did this again. I did it again, and again, and many times. Then I don’t know why but I lit 2 matches at one time, then 3 matches, and even 10 matches at one time. I had great fun lighting matches, accept it was not very long until there was no matches left. I knew this was not good because my dad would be mad if he had to by knew matches, since we did not have a money tree. Then I put the matchbox back in the cupboard and turned on cartoons and waited for my mom to come home.

When my mom came home she said “What is this smell in the kitchen?”

I said “I do not notice anything.”

She said “It smells like sulfur in here.”

I said “It does?” I was pretending that it didn’t smell in the kitchen.

“What did you do while I was gone” my mom asked me.

“Watched cartoons” I told her.

“Did you light any matches in here?” my mom asked me.

“Yes” I said.

“Why?” mom asked.

“I was trying to get the stove going” I told her.

“How many matches did you use?” my mom asked me.

“A few” I told her.

Then my mom looked in the stove at all the burnt matches, and also looked in the cupboard in the matchbox and saw there was no matches left. “You used all the matches!” she screamed at me.

“I did?” I said trying to act like I did not know I used all the matches.

“And there is no wood in the stove either!” my mom screamed at me again.

“Oh, maybe that is why it was so hard to get burning” I said still pretending that I was trying to light the stove.

My mom did not believe that I was trying light the stove and she made me sit down and she yelled at me for a long time and asked “why did you use up all the matches?” accept I did not know why I used up all the matches. My mom told me that I was in big trouble and that they was going to send me to pyromaniac school where you go for a long time and they teach you not to play with matches as much. Also my mom said I was grounded and that I could not go to Mike’s house after school.

I went to school very sad because I did not want to go to pyromaniac school, and me and Mike had important plans to do that weekend. I told Mike that I could not go to his house, and he was sad because we could not do our plans. I went home after school that day and I was feeling very sad and my mom told me I could go to Mike’s house after all, so I went to Mike’s house. Also my parents did not send me to pyromaniac school after all.

Mike and I were going to dig a hole at his house, we had planned it for a long time and we had Cory who was a smart 4rth grader draw up blue plans for our hole. The only thing was that we did not no where we was going to dig it, it had to be a secret place. Mike said that he knew the perfect place accept he could not tell me till morning where the secret spot was.

In the morning Mike said “we’re going to dig the hole in the chicken house, the ground is soft and no one can see us digging”.

I said “But what about when your mom gets eggs?” and Mike said not to worry about that because he had planned that out to.

Mike and I got shovels and picks and went in the chicken house and started digging our hole, just like Cory’s blue plans said to. The ground was soft and the digging was easy and it was not long before the whole was as tall as us.

“Tie the rope to the bored over there so we can climb in and out” Mike told me. And I took the rope and tied it to the bored using the best not I knowed and I through the other end in the hole.

The digging was still easy and we was having to use a bucket to get the dirt out with. It was not long before the hole was very deep, it was 12 feet deep I know because Mike’s dad measured it later on. Cory’s blue plans was for 200 feet deep, and Mike said the we had 188 feet to go, accept our hole was starting to fill up with water. This made the digging tuff and also made us cold, since it was in winter.

Mike said “we better get out of this hole and think for a while” and he grabbed the rope accept when he grabbed it all fell right in the hole with us, even the other end that was tied to the bored.

“I do not understand!” I yelled. “I used my best not and it came untied. What are we going to do?” I asked. Mike looked very worried.

We tried climbing out of the hole, I even tried jumping out of the whole and it was no use. Mike tried standing on my shoulders but we still couldn’t get out of the whole.

“The only thing that we can do now is wait for someone to come out here” Mike said, and he looked sad like he was going to cry.

“Maybe we should try screaming for your mom” I said.

Mike said “we could try that but the house is a long ways from this chicken house and she is probably in the house listening to those tapes that say you’re an OK person so I don’t think she would hear us”.

But Mike and I tried screaming for his mom sense it was our only hope. We started both screaming together but Mike said that we needed to save our energy so we started taking turns screaming at Mike’s mom. Mike would scream “MOM! MOM! MOM!” as loud as he could, then I would scream “MIKES MOM! WE ARE IN A HOLE OUT IN THE CHICKEN HOUSE AND WE NEED YOU TO COME HELP US GET OUT!” as loud as I could scream. Accept no matter how much we screamed Mike’s mom never came to get us out of the hole.

It was starting to get dark and me and Mike had been screaming for a long time and Mike looked very sad and said “There is no hope, we are never going to get out of here. They will come out here to get eggs and find the skeletons of two boys” and Mike looked very sad, and he had tears in his eye when he said this, and his lips was kind of curling up.

“I gotta go” I replied. And I did have to go, and not number one neither. I had to go really bad, except we was stuck in the hole. It always hits you at the worse time!

Then, like the voice of an angel we heard the screechy voice of Mike’s mom say “Mike! Mike! It is supper time, please come in the house!” Me and Mike started screaming, Mike was saying “MOM!” and I was just screaming I was so excited.

Then we heard Mike’s mom’s voice get closer and say “Mike, where are you?”

We both screamed “In the chicken house!”

Then right away we heard the chicken house door open and Mike’s mom said “Is you boys playing tricks on me, because I don’t see you?”

“WE’RE IN THE GROUND!” I screamed as loud as I could, accept that wasn’t very loud because I was horse from all the screaming I did that day. Then Mike’s mom came over to the hole and looked down upon us.

“What are you silly boys doing down there?” Mike’s mom asked us. Mike had a tear of joy he was so glad to see his mom.

I said “Could you please help us get out because I really gotta go”. Mike’s mom tied the rope to the bored, and I climbed out first since I had to go so bad. I ran to the house as fast as I could run and when I got to the house I did not have time to take my shoes off so I left muddy tracks all over the house, accept I did make it to the bathroom in time.

Later on Mike’s dad yelled at us for digging a whole in the chicken house. Also Mike’s mom was not happy about the tracks in the house, but we lived and that was the important thing.

About the Author

A recovering moron. I know this isn’t everyone’s style of humor, but if you got a kick out of it, feel free to drop me a line at gboethin@yahoo.com.