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The Geography of a Woman Between 18 and 25 a woman is like Africa--half discovered, half wild, naturally beautiful with fertile deltas. Between 26 and 35 a woman is like America--well developed and open to trade, especially for someone with cash. Between 36 and 45 she is like India--very hot, relaxed and convinced of her own beauty. Between 46 and 55 a woman is like France--gently aging, but still a warm and desirable place to visit. Between 56 and 65 she is like Yugoslavia--lost the war, haunted by past mistakes. Massive reconstruction is now necessary. Between 66 and 75 a woman is like Mongolia--with a glorious and all conquering past, but alas, no future. After 75 a woman becomes like Afghanistan. Most everyone knows where she is, but no one wants to go there. The Geography of a Man Between 15 and 75 a man is like Iraq--ruled by a dick (prior to Operation Iraqi Freedom.)
Crazy World You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy, the Swiss hold the America’s Cup, France is accusing the U.S. of arrogance, and Germany doesn’t want to go to War!
A Letter Home Dear Ma & Pa, Am well. Hope you are too. Tell brother Walt & brother Elmer that the Marine Corps sure beats the heck out of working for Old Man Minch! Tell them to join up quick before maybe all the places are filled. I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed ’til nearly 6 a.m., but am getting so I like to sleep late. Tell Walt & Elmer all you got to do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split or fire to lay. Practically nothing. Men got to shave, but it’s not so bad, they got hot water here. Breakfast is strong on trimmings, like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie, and other regular food. But tell Walt & Elmer you can always sit between two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you ’til noon when you get fed again. It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much. We go on “route” marches which the Platoon Sergeant says are long hikes to harden us. If he thinks so, it is not my place to tell him different. A route march is about as far as to our mailbox back home. Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks. The country is nice, but awful flat. The Sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags some. The Captain is like the school board. Majors & Colonels just ride around and frown a lot. They don’t bother you none. This next will kill Walt & Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. The bull’s eye is near as big as a chipmunk an’ it don’t move none. And it ain’t shooting back at you, like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in little boxes. Be sure to tell Walt & Elmer to hurry & join up before other fellers get onto this setup and & come stampeding in. Your loving daughter, Gail P.S. Speaking of shooting, enclosed is $200 towards a new barn roof and Ma’s teeth. The city boys shoot craps, but not too good. |