December 24, 2011
Schindler Sez
Money talks, but when it does...it usually says goodbye.
For the Birds
"I'm not afraid of death...but this dying bull crap is for the birds.
~85-year-old, Tom Sefton
The Whacker
(The names have been withheld to protect the not so innocent.)
The University of St. __________, had just installed the new Pro Turf surface on its football field. The coach was so happy that he finally got the new turf that now and then he would go out onto the field and lay down, just for the joy of it.
Shortly after the installation, he noticed little pieces of the new turf lying around. Thinking some sort of animal was causing the damage, he instructed on of the student assistants to go out at night with a baseball bat and whack whatever was causing it.
That evening the coach was awakened by his ringing cell. "Coach," the bat boy yelled excitedly, "I found out what's tearing up the turf."
"You did?"
"Yeah, it's Sister __________, president of the University. She's been practicing her golf swing on the new turf with a nine iron."
"Your kidding?"
"No, I'm not kidding! Should I wack her?"
Shortly after the installation, he noticed little pieces of the new turf lying around. Thinking some sort of animal was causing the damage, he instructed on of the student assistants to go out at night with a baseball bat and whack whatever was causing it.
That evening the coach was awakened by his ringing cell. "Coach," the bat boy yelled excitedly, "I found out what's tearing up the turf."
"You did?"
"Yeah, it's Sister __________, president of the University. She's been practicing her golf swing on the new turf with a nine iron."
"Your kidding?"
"No, I'm not kidding! Should I wack her?"
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