JUNE 1, 2002
Burma Shave signs would be posted all over the countryside in Farmers' fields. They were small red signs with white letters. Five signs, about 100 feet apart, each containing 1 line of a 4 line Couplet ... and the obligatory 5th sign identifying Burma Shave.
DON'T LOSE YOUR HEAD
OF PAUL FOR BEER
LED TO A
SPEED WAS HIGH
WEATHER WAS NOT
TIRES WERE THIN
X MARKS THE SPOT
AROUND THE CURVE
IT'S A BEAUTIFUL CAR
WHEN YOU CAN'T SEE
MAY GET YOU A GLIMPSE
NO MATTER THE PRICE
NO MATTER HOW NEW
THE BEST SAFETY DEVICE
IN THE CAR IS YOU
A GUY WHO DRIVES
A CAR WIDE OPEN
IS NOT THINKIN'
HE'S JUST HOPIN'
LOOK EACH WAY
A HARP SOUNDS NICE
BUT ITS HARD TO PLAY
BOTH HANDS ON THE WHEEL
EYES ON THE ROAD
THAT'S THE SKILLFUL
THE ONE WHO DRIVES WHEN
HE'S BEEN DRINKING
DEPENDS ON YOU
TO DO HIS THINKING
PASSING SCHOOL ZONE
TAKE IT SLOW
LET OUR LITTLE
These sure bring back memories to those of us who drove or rode with parents in the years immediately preceding and following WWII.
Recently the Bruin Gas & Oil station in Beartown was trying to increase its business so the owner put up a sign that said: "Free Sex with any Fill-up."
Soon a customer pulled in, filled his tank, and then asked for his prize.
The owner told him to pick a number from (1) to (10), and if he guessed correctly, he would get his free sex. The buyer then guessed (8) and the
proprietor said, "No, you were close. The number was (6). Sorry, no free sex this time, but better luck next time".
Some time thereafter, the same guy, along with his buddy this time, pulled in again for a fill-up, Again he asked for his reward with the purchase.
The proprietor again gave him the same story, and asked him to guess the correct number. The man guessed (2) this time and the proprietor said, "Sorry, it was (3). You were really close, but no free sex this time".
As they were driving away, the driver said to his buddy, "Man, I think that game is "rigged", and he don't give away no free sex".
His buddy replied, "Naw, it ain't rigged -- my wife won twice last week".
A BIG SHOT
After getting all Pope John-Paul II's luggage loaded in the limo (and His Holiness doesn't travel light), the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb. "Excuse me, Your Eminence." says the driver, "Would you please take your seat so we can leave?"
"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "They never let me drive at the Vatican, and I'd really like to drive today."
"I'm sorry but I cannot let you do that. I'd lose my job! And what if something should happen?" protests the driver, wishing he'd never gone to work that morning.
"There might be something extra in it for you," says the Pope.
Reluctantly, the driver gets in the back as the Pope climbs in behind the wheel. The driver quickly regrets his decision when, after exiting the airport, the Supreme Pontiff floors it, accelerating the limo to 105 mph.
"Please slow down, Your Holiness!!!," pleads the worried driver, but the Pope keeps the pedal to the metal until they hear sirens. "Oh, my God, I'm gonna lose my license," moans the driver. The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the patrolman approaches, but the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio. "I need to talk to the Chief," he says to the dispatch. The Chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he's stopped a limo going a hundred and five.
"So bust him," said the Chief.
"I think the guy's a big shot," said the cop.
"All the more reason."
"No, I mean really a big shot," said the cop.
"What'd ya got there, the Mayor?"
"Well," said the Chief, "Who is it?"
"I don't know", said the cop, "but he's got the Pope driving for him."
Copyright 2000 Claude Dern, All Rights Reserved
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