- You can name everyone you graduated with.

- You know what 4-H is.

- You ever went to parties at a pasture, barn, or in the middle

of a dirt road.

- You used to drag “main.”

- You said the ‘F’ word and your parents knew within the hour.

- You ever went cow-tipping or snipe hunting.

- You were ever in the Homecoming parade.

- You have ever gone home for Homecoming.

- It was cool to date someone from the neighbouring town.

- You had senior skip day.

- The whole school went to the same party after graduation.

- You don’t give directions by street names or directions by

references (turn by Nelson’s house, go two blocks east

Anderson’s, and it’s four houses left of the track field).

- The cc golf course had only 9 holes.

- You can’t help but date a friend’s ex-girlfriend.

- You think kids that ride skateboards are weird.

- The town next to you is considered “trashy” or “snooty”, but

is actually just like your town.

- Getting paid minimum wage is considered a raise

- You refer to anyone with a house newer than 1960 as the

“rich people.”

- Anyone you want can be found at either the Dairy Queen or

the feed store.

- Football coaches suggest that you haul hay for the summer to

get stronger.

- Directions are given using “the” gas station as a reference.

- The city council meets at the coffee shop.

- Weekend excitement involves a trip to a Wal-Mart.

- Even the ugly people enter beauty pageants.

- You decide to walk somewhere for exercise and 5 people pull

over and ask if you need a ride.

- Your teachers remember when they taught your parents.

- You can charge at all the local stores.

- The closest McDonald’s is 45 miles away.

- So is the closest mall.

- It is normal to see an old man riding through town on a

riding lawn mower.

Dear Santa,

Listen you fat troll, I’ve been saving your ass every year, being the Perfect Christmas Present, wearing skimpy bathing suits in December and dressing in fake Channel at sappy tea parties. I hate to break it to ya’, Santa, but it’s payback time.

There had better be some changes around here, or I’m gonna call for a nationwide meltdown, and trust me,you don’t wanna be around to smell it. These are my demands for Christmas 1999:

1. Sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I’m sick of looking like a hooker in hot pink bikinis. Do you have any idea what it feels like to have nylon and Velcro up your butt? I don’t suppose you do.

2. Real underwear that can be pulled on and off. That cheap-o molded underwear some genius at Mattel came up with looks like cellulite!

3. A REAL man… I don’t care if you have to go to Hasbro to get him, but BRING ME GI JOE. Hell, I’d take Tickle-Me-Elmo over that pathetic bump of a boytoy, Ken. And what was up with that earring anyway? HULLO!?!

4. It’s about time you made us all anatomically correct. Give me arms that actually bend so I can push the aforementioned Ken-wimp away once he is anatomically correct.

5. Breast reduction surgery. ‘Nuff said.

6. A sports bra. To wear until I get the surgery.

7. A new career. Pet doctor and school teacher make real money.

8. A new, more 90s persona. Maybe “PMS Barbie,” complete with a pint of cookie dough ice cream and a bag of chips.

9. No more McDonald’s endorsements. The grease is wrecking my vinyl complexion.

10. Mattel stock options. It’s been 40 years – I think I deserve a piece of the action. Considering my valuable contribution to society and Mattel, I think these demands are reasonable. If you don’t like it, you can find yourself a new bitch for next Christmas.

It’s that simple.

Barbie

^^^^^^^^^^^

Ken’s letter to Santa:

Dear Santa,

It has come to my attention that one of my colleagues has petitioned you for changes in her contract, specifically asking for anatomical and career changes. In addition, it is my understanding that disparaging remarks were made about me, my sexuality, and some of my fashion choices. I would like to take this opportunity to inform you of issues concerning Ms. Barbie, as well as some of my own needs and desires:

First, I, along with several of my colleagues, feel Ms. Barbie DOES NOT deserve the preferential treatment she has received over the years. That bitch has everything. Neither I, Joe, nor The Raggedys, Ann & Andy, have dream houses, Corvettes, dune buggies, or evening gowns, and some of us do not even have the ability to change our hairstyle. I have had a limited wardrobe, obviously designed to complement, but never upstage Ms. Barbie. My decision to accessorize with an earring was immediately squashed, which I protest, for it was my decision and reflects my lifestyle choice. I would like a change in my career to further explore my creative nature. Some options which could be considered are “Decorator Ken,” Beauty Salon Ken,” or “Broadway Ken.” Other avenues which could be considered are: “Go-Go Ken,” “Impersonator Ken” (with wigs and gowns), or “West Hollywood Ken.” These would more accurately reflect my interests and, I believe, open up markets that have been unexplored. As for Ms. Barbie needing bendable arms so she can “push me away”, I need bendable knees so I can kick the bitch to the curb. Bendable knees would also be helpful in other situations of which I’m sure you are aware. In closing, further concessions to the Blonde Bimbo from Hell, while the needs of others within my coalition are ignored, will result in legal action to be taken by myself and others. And kindly tell Ms. Barbie she can forget about G.I. Joe…he’s mine, at least that’s what he said last night.

Sincerely,

Ken

Her story:

Well Ed was in an odd mood when I got to the bar, I thought it might have been because I was a bit late but he didn’t say anything much about it, but the conversation was quite slow going so I thought we should go off somewhere more intimate so we could talk more privately, so we go to this restaurant and he’s still a bit funny and I’m trying to cheer him up and start to wonder whether it’s me or something so I ask him and he says no but you know I’m not really sure, so anyway, in the cab back to his house. I say that I love him and he just puts his arm around me and I don’t know what the hell that means because you know he doesn’t say it back or anything so when we get back to his I’m wondering if he’s going off me and so I try to ask him about it but he just switches on the TV and so I say I’m going to go to sleep and then after about 10 minutes he joins me and we have sex, but he seemed really distracted and so afterwards I just want to leave and I dunno I just don’t know what he thinks anymore, I mean, do you think he’s met someone else ???

His story:

Shit day at work. Great shag later.

Background: Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May and were still smelling pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell again, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor.

Baths equaled a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice, clean water, then all his sons and other male inhabitants, then the women and finally the children. Last of all came the babies. By then the water was so dirty, you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, “Don’t throw the baby out with the bath water.”

Houses had thatched roofs–thick straw, piled high, with no wood underneath. The roof was the only place for small animals to get warm, so all the pets, dogs, cats and others, including mice, rats and bugs, lived in the roof. When it rained, the roof became slippery and porous to an extent and sometimes the animals would slip from and/or fall through the roof. Hence the saying, “It’s raining cats and dogs.”

There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and droppings could really mess up a nice, clean bed. So people found a solution by building beds with four posts to hang a sheet barricade over the bed. Hence, those beautiful four-poster beds with canopies.

The floor was earthen Only the wealthy could afford something other than dirt for a floor, hence the saying “dirt poor.” The wealthy had slate floors which would get slippery in the winter when it rained. So they spread thresh on the floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they kept adding more thresh until it would start spilling outside each time the door was opened. A solution was found by placing a piece of wood at the entryway, which became known as a “threshold.”

People cooked in the kitchen in a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lighted the fire and added things to the pot. They mostly ate vegetables and didn’t get much meat. They would eat this stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over again the next day. Sometimes the stew had food in it that had been in there for a month. Hence the rhyme, “Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.”

Sometimes people could obtain pork, which would make them feel very special. When company came over, they would bring out some bacon and hang it to show it off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could really “bring home the bacon.” They would cut off a little to share with the guests, and they would all sit around and “chew the fat.”

Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with a high acid content caused some of the plate’s lead to leach into the food. This happened most often with tomatoes, so they stopped eating tomatoes for 400 years!

Most people didn’t have pewter plates, but had trenchers–a piece of wood with the middle scooped out like a bowl. Trenchers were never washed, and a lot of times worms got into the wood. After eating from wormy trenchers, people often got “trench mouth.”

Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the loaf, the family the middle, and guests the top, or the “upper crust.”

Lead cups were used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes knock people out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road might take people for dead and prepare them for burial. They would lay them out on the kitchen table for a couple of days, and the family would gather around and eat and drink to wait and see if the “dead” might wake up. Hence the custom of holding a “wake.”

England was tiny and getting overpopulated, so they began running out of places to bury people. So, they dug up the existing coffins to take their bones away and reuse the graves. In reopening the coffins, they found that one of every twenty-five had scratch marks on the inside. They realized that they had been burying people alive. So they began tying a string around the buried person’s wrist that led up through the coffin to a bell, which could be rung by the person if he or she awoke. Someone, of course, would have to sit out in the graveyard to listen for any bells, hence the “graveyard shift.” In this way, they would know if someone were to be “saved by the bell” or was indeed already a “dead ringer.”