Quirk Wars

Written by Ed Williams

“Free Wheelin’”


We all have ‘em.

In one form orrepparttar other.

Examples proliferate.

Some quirky writers write one sentence paragraphs...

Okay, okay, I’ll stop! Y’all gotta admit I had ya there for a second. I thought I’d take a shot this week at writing about people’s quirks because it’s one of those topics where allrepparttar 137431 women who read this are going to look over at their menfolk and say, “Ha! Quirks! He doesn’t knowrepparttar 137432 half of it! You must berepparttar 137433 only man in America that has to scratch himself “down there” twenty or thirty times a day! Nothing can possibly itch that much!” And allrepparttar 137434 menfolk who read this will then look over at their ladies and say, “Ha! Quirks! I don’t even have to talk about your quirks, I can just talk about how your hair smells right after you get a permanent!” The potential for causing all this mischief is just too fun to walk away from, so I‘m not. I think I’ll getrepparttar 137435 ball rolling by talking about some of my own quirks, which should setrepparttar 137436 table for some good “afterrepparttar 137437 column” conversations this week. Here be a few of them:

“I like to be naked.”

Look, I know y’all might be laughing, but I‘m being sincere, I enjoy being naked. I likerepparttar 137438 freedom, I likerepparttar 137439 feeling of air touching me from all angles, and I like not being trussed up in a bunch of starchy clothes. Frankly, being naked is a luxury for me these days, as with having a child still at home I can’t just doff my threads any old time that I want to. At heart, though, I’m a nude dude.

“Hiccups drive me crazy.”

You know, y’all can’t tell me that most people who haverepparttar 137440 hiccups can’t get rid of them if they just use a little will power. The sound of a hiccup drives me insane, and someone having them for a lengthy period of time must simply enjoy havingrepparttar 137441 hiccups. I’d rather listen to Amway promotional tapes or watch videotaped surgical procedures than listen to someone hiccupping.

“Long winded preachers make me mad.”

Y’all gotta admit, this is true for just about all of us, we just don‘t like to admit it. I’m lucky because my current preacher, Jerry Dingmore, understands thatrepparttar 137442 message has to be both interesting and torepparttar 137443 point. The problem is that for every preacher like him there‘s five who’ll preached for seventy-five minutes and don’t care thatrepparttar 137444 Falcons kick off in another fifteen. Too much of anything, excepting Elvis music and Nu-Way hot dogs, is just about always a bad thing.

My Mother's Amazing Meatloaf Mystery

Written by Rev. James L. Snyder

Every mother harbors a mystery of some sort. Many handed down from one generation torepparttar next forming a bond so strong no man can penetrate. I came to realize this at an early age, which has stood me in good standing throughout life. Namely, don't mess with female secrets.

It all started at a church fellowship supper, which is usuallyrepparttar 137237 centerpoint of any good church. Attend just one church fellowship supper and you learn everything that needs to be known about that church. These functions, as you might guess, are supervised entirely byrepparttar 137238 women ofrepparttar 137239 church.

My mother's mystery had roots at a church fellowship supper. Everyone was expected to bring their signature dish.

For example, everyone knew Sister Grace's signature dish was her sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows. Nobody in her right mind would dare bring a similar dish. Also, Sister Sylvia always broughtrepparttar 137240 mashed potatoes with gravy, which everybody agreed would be a featured plat du jour atrepparttar 137241 Marriage Supper ofrepparttar 137242 Lamb. Sister Eloise's contribution was apple pie to die for, andrepparttar 137243 list went on and on.

Of course, being new torepparttar 137244 church we did not understand this culinary dynamic. So, when we were invited torepparttar 137245 first church fellowship supperrepparttar 137246 head lady asked my mother what dish she would bring. Not really having such a dish, my mother casually mentioned meatloaf, which seemed to settlerepparttar 137247 issue.

For some reasonrepparttar 137248 church fellowship supper slipped our mind andrepparttar 137249 evening before my mother suddenly remembered. "Oh, my," she exclaimed, "I forgot to makerepparttar 137250 meatloaf."

Being a practical-minded person, she simply went to one of her favorite markets, purchased a freshly made meatloaf and brought it home and "doctored it up," as she said. That settled, she thought no more about it.

The next day atrepparttar 137251 church fellowship supper, we arrived bearing our store- bought meatloaf. How were we to know this was anathema atrepparttar 137252 church? We were just delighted to be withrepparttar 137253 rest ofrepparttar 137254 church people enjoyingrepparttar 137255 delicacies. I will never forgetrepparttar 137256 great spread we encountered. So much food, so little stomach.

Fifteen minutes intorepparttar 137257 eating portion ofrepparttar 137258 fellowship supper, people began complementing my mother onrepparttar 137259 meatloaf. "This is," one lady proclaimed, "one ofrepparttar 137260 best meatloaves I have ever tasted." Then she said something that sent my mother into a panic. "You just must give merepparttar 137261 recipe for this delicious meatloaf of yours. I've never had anything like it before."

Right about here an awful thought dawned on my mother. From bits of conversation heard here and there, she realized each dish was a special dish and if anybody knew hers was store-bought, she would be in serious trouble.

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