You might be a third world countian if…

You might be a third world countian if…

Your check engine light stops coming on cos it’s burned out (cos the only semi-reliable mechanics not working for The Great Satan’s fleet services are named Jackleg and Shadetree).

Your POTS telephone service dies during “squirrel courting season” cos alla the squirrels are out line dancing. (But then, it is also likely to fail if it rains or even during a heavy fog.. )

911 doesn’t know your address (cos you don’t really have one), but it doesn’t matter, cos the ambulance driver knows a shortcut.

You know the sheriff’s deputy who got a traffic ticket for running a traffic signal in his official vehicle… and the town marshal who gave it to him.

You KNOW that if you drive the 55mph speed limit on some-a the two-lane roads, you’ll top a rise to find a coupla bubbas parked blocking the highway cos they just can’t wait to get to the feed store to share gossip.

…You DON’T stop and shake your head every time you pass the sign for the Pooh Coner Daycare (No, that’s not a typo. I must confess, however, that I do see conehead children covered in pooh in my mind’s eye whenever I pass that sign.. )

Oh, yeh. There’s more… another time, maybe.

(Blogging from Lovely Daughter’s wifi cionnection at her home, where we just shared Sunday lunch. Kinda nice not to have to do cleanup. :-))

2 Replies to “You might be a third world countian if…”

  1. I USED to be a third world countian. For instance: The volunteer fire department was just a BIT late (said sarcastically) getting to my burning house because it was the first day of deer-hunting season.

    Because of that, I’m now a Ghetto Girl. It’s amazing how well humans can adjust to major changes.

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