Category: Comedy

BEANS ANYONE

Think back on your most memorable road trip.

At the time I was 19 could’ve been 18 we went on a road trip from Kitchener Ontario to Kingston Mosport500. That was a long time ago.

My boyfriend and I left on a motorcycle his brother and wife went in a Camaro with the top down. We all had a great ride as for us, it rained pretty hard; the Camaro put its top up , at least the traffic was fine, everything was fine until a bee flew down my shirt. It’s not fine anymore. We parked the motorcycle I got off and started stripping, carefully not to get stung, and when I looked up, there was an old man so full of joy standing in the window with such a happy jolly face staring down at me, I had no time to be ashamed or embarrassed-petrified of being stung.

Now arriving at Mosport it was dark, we were wet, the car people were fine, and it was really late at night, we pitched the tent, we slept, yes in our wet clothes and woke to roaring sounds of the ring ding dinging of roaring motorcycles.

I work first and went out I was shocked but the scenery was too comical I had to giggle and laugh and I had to wake everybody up to come outside just to see where we pitched our tents.

Right in the middle of the practice field! We had to move of course. So we re-pitched the tent we made a campfire they put me in charge of the food. while we were doing our best to dry off.

Beans anyone? Yes, that’s what we brought, a can of beans loaf of bread whatever else but for breakfast everybody would like the beans on toast that the two men were British, beans on toast it was.

Now, don’t ask me how I did it, because I don’t know, but I cooked the beans, I toasted eight slices of bread, put the bread on plates. Now everybody had their plate, of beans toast and a spoon. Now everybody was so happy and I don’t know what happened next? But somehow, I dropped my plate of beans and it went in her long blonde hair, it went all over her husband’s clothes & someone on his face, it went into my man’s clothes and his long hair. . .Oh my, and I had ONE bean on my boot. I did my best not to laugh as she had herself bent over scraping beans out of her hair and tossing it to the ground and he was swiping off his self and pulling it out of his hair so was my man, and I was just standing there picking one bean off my boot.

It was a very good thing Mosport put on a great show so great even a news reporter was knocked out of a tree from a runaway bike that went up the tree knocking the guy and his camera out. Yup, it was a great time, and one I will never forget.

But of course there are two more incidents on two other road trips with the same people but that’s another story.

Mosport Indy 500 beans anyone.

YOU HAVE TO BE AN ANIMAL LIKER

Dogs or cats?

Oh bother, what kind of a question is that? dogs or Cats? You have to be an animal liker.

I do like animals but I like them where they are, although there is a dog here, she is part pit-bull. The other part is of something rather mild. No one knows what. She is a good dog, though she is not mine and will only listen if I carry a treat or just say the word. Treat?

I did have a cat once, but it was forced upon me, where I grew into loving it as a tiny kitten growing into a cat. A funny cat. She was hilarious and I do believe she knew it.

Sad to say Lucy the grey and white kitten had to live somewhere else when she became a cat. Someone living here became seriously allergic to her-the cat in her.

Right now this dog living here is great for protecting this place and the children in it. This is a good thing. As for cats, they tend to scratch up the furniture 🤨 not good. Even though they had a wonderful layered scratch thingamajig, it was not good enough for her. Say goodbye to the leather.

Cats or Dogs. Hmm great question.

Oh wait a minute. . .who cleans up the 💩?

Not me.

MY STORY

Hey this is my story. Almost complete.

I must say the timing is taking for ever that I am doing my own editing. Seriously, so far this story is maybe twenty-seven years in the works! Holy. But for good reasons-grandchildren . . .They are all in school now.

MY ART

This is a story written by me, myself and I. I have written other stories but this is the one I chose to edit first.

Hilarious though this cover is not the first. Also my name is Constance Iola Taylor henceforth Iola Taylor C’S. Even then. I started to use my married name only to find Five other writers carry the same name-Constance Ferguson. Wow who knew?

This picture is what I put together first with careful thought. But things got botched so this was trashed.

MY ART

This is just funny to me, like being naked. Funny though how some people found this picture creepy? I don’t get the creepy part.

MY ART.

Anyway…I will be so happy when my story is finished. As of yet this day April 25, 2025 the word count holds 71,744 words.

Yes, I’m going for a novel. 80,000 words or more.

Oh yes, what is the story?

Espionage-Everybody wants to rule the world.

Do you like one of these covers?

ME.

THAT’S A GOOD FRIEND

What are the most important things needed to live a good life?

Me: What kind of a friend helps a friend stay doped up?

Him: Hey man. That’s a good friend man. It’s important to have a good friend to help you through life man. And dope man, it’s important to have good dope man.

Lmao. This is not serious man.

EVERY TIME FLOP FLOP FLOP

What is your career plan?

Career plan what have we here?

Plan ahead, make plans, plan today, plan tomorrow. Hmmm, what did you say? What is your career plan? What plan, follow the plans man.

I planned a party, invited my coworkers and school teachers, I bought prizes. I made seven games, I spent $350 on food. Two people came-my helpers. Plans, plans you say, career plans.

I planned on getting married and having children, seven of them. I planned on living happily ever after. Bahahaha. Two divorces and three children later, that plan. Flopped all over the place. Plans plans nothing at hand plans plans here I still stand .

I planned on being a writer. I’ve written several books. You know the books that are on paper on a shelf just sitting there by themselves. What happened to that plan? I’ll tell you what happened to that plan, my daughter and her children, four them-three years apart. Knock knock knocking on my door knock knock, knocking, wanting more knock knock knock. So flip flop flapping plans, what plans, I don’t make plans anymore!

Every time flop, flop flop. I wonder if it’s because I didn’t choose a “career” plan.

We will put this career planning in the same categories as goals-what the hell is a goal, what is your goal? Is your goal a career plan? Don’t forget to say career plan or it’s not gonna work; flop, flop, flop, flop, flop, flop. Want to plan on going to the store and then to the restaurant, no! Let’s just go shopping and then go eat no plans.

Say here’s a plan, what are you playing at with these plans, we all know plans and careers and goals are for the birds-the energized people, that’s it, you have to be a special kind of a person to be able to set a career plan and have a goal and reach it. And that’s the end. Yeah that’s my plan finish this question about: What is your career plan. Do you have one? No flopping now.

The End.

Force yourself to have the best day ever, planning a career plan.

OFF WITH THEIR HEADS

If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be, and why?

If I could be someone anyone just for one day as long as during this day, what I do applies, I would be QUEEN.

Why do I choose to be queen? Why do I want it to apply? What’s the point of being queen if it doesn’t apply?

Being queen for one day where I can change everywhere under my rule, there would be men there would be women there would be girls there would be boys no more thinking you’re a dog you’re a cat I want to be a girl, but I’m in a man’s body I wanna be a man, but I’m in a girls body no more teaching kindergartens grade ones grade twos about sex no more paedophiles allowed to walk the streets no more murderers, rapists killers, taking space eating food, watching TV playing games learning from books no more no more high taxes no more outrageous prices on foods no more costly clothing, no more presidents and governments Ignoring our rights and our freedoms, Queen for a day I say all that applies under my rule.

Outlandish indeed!

But I am the queen do you hear me no more nonsense no more prejudiced no more one-sided peoples! No more crying over holocaust no more crying over black slaves let’s start crying over Irish slaves before the blacks packed in cages history lies in the past the past cannot be changed.

I am your QUEEN . I rule over these countries and lands. I tell you no more discriminatory no more bigots! I tell you off with their heads.

Pretty harsh I know-but KINGS and QUEENS were harsh. They did bad things to people to please themselves. I don’t want to do bad things to people to please myself, I want to please the people. I am your queen for one day.

Bahahaha. Now that I got that out of my system, I am so happy. I never laughed so hard in the last couple days. Tell me is it possible I be QUEEN for a day just one day? Come on let me do it. Let me have one day, give me a go. Come on, let me have a go, let me have a go at her for just one day.

Off with their heads, I say.

Ps. . . this is not intended to hurt, weak minds. This is intended for the lighter side of things for the comical ways of life. Besides, you asked, didn’t you. And i’d be lying if I said anything else.

THE END.

MEET SIBLING #SEVEN

Describe a family member.

Welcome to my view of sibling number Seven. A girl-should have been a boy, maybe. She forever acted like a boy and still does.

You know we all grew up tomboys in dresses, our father said, “no girls of his are going to wear pants!” And we didn’t, just the two boys, the last three of the bunch was a boy-girl-boy. So seven dresses and two sets of pants. of course the older we got, us girls finally got to wear pants-we had to beg dad after the two older one bought jeans. Please daddy please, please, please. “Only on weekends.” But until then-dresses and or tunic’s, school uniforms were worn.

We still did our sports, running and what ever else in dresses. And to meet number seven…man she was always rolling around on the ground beating up boys. Not the brothers, other boys. Wasn’t to many days I’d turn around looking for #7 and there she was…About ten to fifteen feet behind us pounding some boy kid. Oh bother. “Number seven, hurry up, you are going to be late for school.”

Number seven was bold and at times quite embarrassing as she would walk right up behind people on the streets mimicking their walk as she showed off to us. The one time while she was not paying attention-for watching us. The man stopped at the end of the street to watch for cars then proceed, while #7 bounced right off him. It was funny to us but not to him.

One thing about number seven was she was always asking for our food, breakfast, lunch and suppers. Man she drove us crazy begging non stop until we gave it or some. Even mom, #7 would ask and ask for mom’s food until she got it. Brave girl she was and still is. She will punch the crap out of you with out a blink of an eye…other than that, she would be your best friend, until you backstab her.

She was always coming home with new songs or jokes that she would tell me or teach me, some songs were awesome and some jokes were dirty. But she knew how to tell them and still does.

Number seven is the boss of every thing… or tries her best to be while always changing all the rules, and oh my gosh…she doesn’t quit. Kind of takes the fun out of everything, her way or no way.

As an adult nothing changed outside of having children, she is still quick tempered with her rules and willing to floor you on the drop of a dime.

I love her to pieces we did have fun at times. Her jokes are shockingly funny after you see them in your mind, until then I would gasp, “aw…#7.” Days later though…slam! Her joke hit my brain sending me into uncontrollable laughter. It did not matter where I was at the time when her joke came to light I whacked out while people watched me pointing or whispering. Only made me laugh more out of embarrassment. Yeah she asked me,why did the chicken cross the road?-“To get to the other side.” Yeah okay, now why did the man cross the road? “I don’t know. To get to the other side.” She said, no stupid, his dick was stuck in the chicken. “Aw…#7!” Shit…days later sitting at a stop light watching this guy cross the road, I caught myself looking to see if there was indeed a chicken, then all hell broke loose, I laughed like a bastids.

She also said to me, what would you do if your best friend all of a sudden started convoluting in the bathtub, having a seizure? What would you do? “What I don’t know call 911.” She said, no stupid…throw in a load of laundry. 😳 “aw, # 7!” I did not find that funny at all. But days later…🤣🤣🤣, I saw it. I asked for the LORDS forgiveness.

Then she said to me…what would you do if you saw your husband still staggering in the backyard? Sack I don’t know. “Leave him there, help him in?” She said, no stupid, RELOAD. “What? She made the actions and sound of a rifle reloading. I laughed like a freaking dog. “Number seven, number seven, number seven.”

Don’t get me wrong, she will give you the shirt off her back and cook you a great meal, but if you cross her-look out!

Number seven was loads of fun for a time, as kids she never missed one of my Basketball games unless I had to play out of our district. She was a hand full yes, but fun. The only way to control her as a child was to sit on her until she came back to her senses.

There is more but you know. That’s not for me to say. Wait her…knock knock “who’s there.” F U. Or, or knock knock. “Who’s there, who’s there? Okay #7 who’s there?” Her, what are you F-ing stupid? No one is home. 🤨 yeah she swears like a bastid.

I haven’t seen number seven for quite a while now, but…I can’t ever forget her either .

The End.

Oh wait a minute…knock knock…

Get the F out of here. Bahahaha “aw, number seven.”

Oh yeah, she ran away once, and found sleeping under a porch with the rats , so we were told. Oh and she is the one with the dart…wood eye? And she is the one who taught me how to get money from a newspaper box stand. Oh and she is the one who told the baby to throw his poopy diaper at the oldest sister while she was sleeping? Poohy face. Lol. Oh it was not funny. Well? And she is the one handing me a small pickle and saying, can you see Doug? “Yes.” Throw this pickle at him. I missed hitting anyone else and we ducked under the table laughing like barking Seals. She’s the one who says. Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it. “Okay shit!”

Meet number seven.

BULLSEYE

What skill would you like to learn?

This will be short.

At times, I have a pretty good aim, at other times it will take me three tries to hit my target.

Every once in a while I will buy a $4.00 toy gun with darts. Lucky me the darts come in three, allowing me to mess around using a chalk drawn bullseye, getting my practice in before the kids confiscate my toy.

But I really wish growing up that I took the time to learn the skill of archery, had I known lessons were given.

However, I did play Darts. Lucky if I hit the board. One time this guy sitting in a wheelchair having a game of darts with my sister and me, took the dart and drove it in his leg as he said to us, “would you do this?” Holy sack, we had no idea he had a wooden leg.

My sister holding her dart readying to aim smiled looking at me then him saying, “wood eye?” Oh my God I laughed my ass off I could hardly stand up. The guy just stared at her, then looked at me, which of course made me laugh more, as I’m imagining my sister putting out his eye.

Archery would have been a great skill for me. I buy the plastic sets of Bow and arrows and we play and have fun.

What was that? BULLSEYE 🎯