Jonathots Daily Blog
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Totally and Completely Politically Incorrect Names to Give to Elves
A. Shortbread
B. Little Hands
C. Tinker Bill
D. Brief
E. Grounded
Cracked 5 … December 7th, 2019
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Things Santa Claus’s Therapist Could Certainly Tell You
A. He wears a beard to cover his leprosy scars.
B. He refuses to accept that the red costume makes him look fifty pounds heavier.
C. Reindeer smell bad and attack black kids.
D. He never married Mrs. Claus. (It’s a long story.)
E. Can’t leave him alone for more than five minutes at a time with small children.
Cracked 5 … November 30th, 2019
Jonathots Daily Blog
(4244)
Mistakes Often Made on Thanksgiving Day
A. Asking Grandma what she’s thankful for—right before we’re supposed to start eating
B. Saying, “The ham is good but nothing ‘trumps’ the turkey.” (Politics begins…)
C. Pointing out that the Pilgrims were illegal immigrants.
D. Asking what the calorie count is on each dish that comes your way.
E. Telling Aunt Minnie you like her Jell-O salad with the carrots—and she keeps passing to you over and over again.
Cracked 5 … June 29th, 2019
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Take-Aways from the First Two Democratic Debates
A. Two grandpas, a grandma, a few curious uncles, some eccentric aunts and the rest of the little kids
B. Yelling isn’t selling
C. Not a party—more like an awkward family reunion
D. Self-promotion sure sounds like bragging
E. TRUMPED!!
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Reverend Meningsbee (Part 57) Epilogue… June 4th, 2017
Jonathots Daily Blog
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It was at a rest area in the state of Oklahoma, on I-35, that the Rettner family stopped to enjoy some lunch before traveling on to their home in Dallas, after visiting Grandma in the great state of Missouri.
Grandma had made turkey sandwiches and was known for putting some butter on the top piece of bread and cranberry sauce on the bottom. They were always scrumptious.
So Bob Rettner and his wife, Jenine, along with their son, who they called Little Mike, had decided to take advantage of the unseasonably warm weather, to sit outside at a picnic table and talk about the beauty of their Christmas and munch the delicious delicacy prepared by Grandma.
But Little Mike was a bit fidgety. He brought a ball with him and was kicking it along when it bounced against a car and rolled out into the thoroughfare at the rest area.
The little boy didn’t even think twice. He started chasing the ball when suddenly a pick-up truck was bearing down on him. It was a tragedy in the making.
Suddenly, from nowhere, a man came running and snatched the boy up, lifting him out of harm’s way just in time. He set him back on the ground and they walked over together to retrieve the ball.
By this time, the parents, who had been watching in horror, unable to do anything but shout, ran up to thank the stranger.
The mother grabbed Little Mike and the father shook the gentleman’s hand. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what to say.”
“You already did,” said the stranger. “Thank you is quite enough.”
The mother interjected, “We’re just sitting down here eating some delicious turkey sandwiches left over from Grandma’s table…”
“Grandma’s table?” queried the stranger.
“Yes, the best you’ll ever eat,” said the father. “Would you join us?”
The stranger paused, looked over at the little boy, who smiled at him. “Yes. I would be honored,” he said.
They all walked over to the table and introductions were made.
“I’m Bob Rettner, this is my wife, Jenine, and this is our son. We call him Little Mike.”
The stranger gave the boy a hug and said, “Little Mike–ball chaser.”
They all shared a relieved laugh.
“And what is your name?” asked Bob.
“They call me Richard.”
“Are you returning from Christmas vacation?” inquired Jenine.
“Yes. Yes, I am. I’m returning, I’m going, I’m coming…I guess we all are, aren’t we?”
Bob handed him a sandwich. “Thank you again,” he said. “We’re a family that believes in prayer. Would you like to lead us in grace over these wonderful sandwiches?”
Richard thought for a moment. “Bob, I, too, believe in prayer. But you know what I’d like? I would like Little Mike to pray. Because… well, because I like to listen.”
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Reverend Meningsbee (Part 41) There’s Always a Space … February 12th, 2017
Jonathots Daily Blog
(3216)
When Meningsbee’s wife, Doris, died, a minister friend counseled him to take some time and give himself the luxury of grieving.
So for six months, Richard permitted his heart, soul and mind to reminisce and dream delightful thoughts about his dear friend, Doris.
There seemed to be a healing. It got a little easier to consider her gone, though there was never any real “ease” in the notion.
After the six-month grieving period, Meningsbee decided to reenter his life of writing and pastoring, only to discover that the emotional stitching he had done on his internals busted loose, and he was flooded with a deluge of remorse.
He thought he was crazy. He even thought he heard Doris moving about the kitchen.
Sitting at breakfast, his mind wandered. He saw her perched in the chair across from him, with her feet tucked up under her butt, with her long, graceful fingers caressing a coffee cup–closing them around the handle, bringing it to her lips, sipping slowly and then giving a seductive little contented shiver. It was so beautiful.
Her peace of mind made him feel like a man.
Even one Sunday at church, during a communion service, his eyes filled with tears. The congregation thought he was moved by the experience with the Holy Meal, but actually it was the scent of the communion wine that brought a memory of a green lotion Doris once applied to her feet–to heal her corns. He giggled inside, remembering her smearing the fluid on her feet and quipping, “I was a girl. Now apparently I’m going to become a grandma with corny feet, and completely skip woman.”
Then, three weeks ago Matrisse’s sister from Chicago came to town, and a blind date of sorts was planned. She was an extraordinarily attractive woman–intelligent and the general manager of a corporation in the Windy City. But because she was just coming off a divorce, she ended up discussing her misgivings and in no time Meningsbee found himself counseling and consoling her instead of considering her. The movie was cancelled and she expressed her gratitude for his words of wisdom with a peck on the cheek.
Meningsbee realized there’s no such thing as “getting over” someone you loved.
There’s always a space–always something they did that was so unique that it couldn’t be duplicated by the actions of another.
Exactly three days before she passed away, Doris rose in the morning after they’d had a fussy tiff with each other the night before, bounced into the room, hugged his neck and said, “Reverend Richard Meningsbee, you are my favorite annoyance.”
How can you forget that?
Somewhere along the line, the preacher just decided to stop fighting the urges to love her.
People are not replaceable–we just learn to appreciate what other people have to offer.
There’s always a space–a space forever occupied with visions of Doris.
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Cracked 5… December 30, 2014
Jonathots Daily Blog
(2459)
Rejected New Year’s Resolutions
A. Learning Greek from a Zionist rabbi in Baghdad
B. Eating from only the white and tan family of foods
C. Spending more time listening to my senile grandma share romantic tales of her youth
D. Installing “clappers” for the lights in funeral homes
E. Devouring more pickled calamari
Picture by Smarttie Panntts
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