Thursday, February 21, 2013

The Old Out House

If you are old enough, and can remember the old "Out-House", then you will chuckle at this one........
 
 
The Old Gas Station

The service station trade was slow.
The owner sat around,
With sharpened knife and cedar stick.
Piled shavings on the ground.


No modern facilities had they,
The log across the rill
Led to a shack, marked His and Hers
That sat against the hill.


"Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
The owner leaning back,
Said not a word but whittled on,
And nodded toward the shack.



With quickened step she entered there
But only stayed a minute,
Until she screamed, just like a snake
Or spider might be in it.


With startled look and beet red face
She bounded through the door,
And headed quickly for the car.
Just like three gals before.


She tripped and fell -- got up,
and then In obvious disgust,
Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
And faded in the dust.


Of course we all desired to know
What made the gals all do
The things they did, and then we found out what
The whittling owner knew.


A speaking system he'd devised
To make the thing complete,
He tied a speaker on the wall
Beneath the toilet seat.


He'd wait until the gals got set, and then the devilish tyke,
would stop his whittling long enough, to speak into the mike.


And as she sat, a voice below, struck terror, fright and fear
"Will you please use the other hole?  We're painting under here."
 
 
 
 
 

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