Grandma's House

Well it was a slow weekend. Not much going on in the news, except Phil Michelson crashing and burning on the last hole of the Open yesterday. Even the NASCAR race was shortened by rain. Sir Mugley had a quiet day, sleeping late and reading a novel instead of a textbook. I fixed one of his favorite dinners last night: roast beef with carrots and potatoes. He really loves it. I'm surprised he hasn't remembered there's more in the fridge!

Anyway, since there's not a lot of news (I haven't started my rounds yet), here's a quick joke for ya:

A guy walks into the local welfare office for his monthly check. He marches straight up to the counter and says, "Hi. You know, I just HATE coming in here drawing welfare month after month. I'd really much rather have a job."

The worker behind the counter says, "Your timing is excellent. We've just obtained a job opening from a very wealthy old man who needs a combination chauffeur/bodyguard to drive his nymphomaniac daughter. You'll be required to drive his Mercedes, and he'll supply all of the necessary clothes. Because of the long hours, all your meals will be provided. In addition, you will be expected to escort her on her overseas holiday trips. A two-bedroom apartment above the garage comes with the position. The starting salary is $200,000 a year."

The guy says, "You're kidding me!"

The social worker says, "Yeah, well, you started it."