A Happy Birthday To Claude, The Big One!
Well, here we are at last. Happy Birthday Claude. 01/06/1955 - ????? (This tombstone to be updated)]
For sixty Inglorious years this man has walked the planet, apart from the first three where he crawled. It would have been a lot longer except his parents hit upon the idea of hanging snacks from the mobile above his cot.
Claude is a highly respected business man and public figure in his home town. The mayor once said to him: "Claude, this town aint big enough for the both of us, But You Are!"
Claude's hair was once 50 shades of grey. Then it turned pink.
Of late, a lot of female owls have been hanging about outside both Claude's store and at his home in the trailer park. It is rumored that they all find him attractive. Whenever one was asked what it was doing there, it would only ever say: "To Whit, To Woo"
I would now like to present to you an extract from my forthcoming book, a completely unauthorized biography of Claude, over 1600 pages long, now nearing completion.
Title: "Claude Whitacre, No Loss Of Ego"
Subtitle: " The Man, The Myth, The Doughnuts"
Chapter 1: "A Difficult Birth"
It was the 6th of January 1955. In the little Shire of Wooster Ohio a massive storm was raging overhead. It seemed to be centered over the local hospital. However, inside no one was aware of it. The thunder had been completely drowned out for the last 6 hours by the incredibly loud screaming and wailing of Mrs Whitacre in the delivery room, trying to push this Massive Head out through her cervix.
Eventually the thunder said to the lightning, I'm off, just no appreciation here and the storm moved away.
The medical team had tried everything to get this baby to come forth. (it eventually came 5th) They had used butter, I can't believe it's not butter, margarine, surely you can't be serious, this is never margarine, cooking oil, crude oil. They had even called in Jiffy Lube and a road widening crew, but to no avail. It would not budge. After the laying out of high saturated fat snacks at the opening failed they decided to take a break.
Mrs Whitacre was covered in sweat by this time and feeling a little hoarse. The nurse shooed the pony out of the room and told her to take a rest.
The medical team sat back down in their folding beer chairs to ponder the situation and wait. Sipping on her Pina Colada, nurse Chappell engaged the handsome young doctor in conversation about the recent spate of flying saucer sightings in the area. Lighting a big cigar shaped object, the doctor skillfully steered the conversation away to the state of modern physics and the recently discovered, Quantum Theory concepts.
It was like a catalyst. Suddenly there was movement. The top of a pink, pudgy, bald head was protruding through the opening. I can see the head, exclaimed the nurse. Ten minutes later she said, I can still see the head, the eyes have just come into view, a further 10 minutes passed and the nose was visible. Nurse Chappell likened it to waiting at a crossing for one of those mile long freight trains to go by. Five minutes later the double chin finally exited the building.
The rest of the body was so narrow by comparison, Mrs Whitacare literally squirted it out with ease. Such was the force that it shot a few feet across the room into the net they had waiting.
The doctor scooped it up a and laid it on the nicotine stained couch for closer examination. There was a problem, the baby was turning purple and the umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around its neck and choking it.
Dr Ralph Riffle whipped out his rusty Swiss army knife to cut it away. Suddenly, just as he was about to start, he hesitated. He had a premonition wash over him. For some reason he felt that this helpless child would one day be persecuting a future son of his. It was so strong he clenched his fists and was saying, tighter, tighter, in his mind.
Nurse Chappell nudged him, he snapped out of it, he dismissed these strange thoughts and feverishly cut away the chord to free the obstruction to the windpipe.
The baby gasped for air and began to breathe. The first thing that came out of its mouth though was not the expected, normal baby sounds. Shivers went up the spines of the medical team as it was heard to say: "Oh No, Not Again" Then, nature kicked in and this remnant, past life memory was instantly lost. The baby started crying. Even that was not quite right though as it went: Blaaaahhh, Blaaahhh, Blahhhhhh!
The nurse picked up the baby and bathed it, washing away the pizza from its body. This child was the only occurrence in recorded history that had been taking food directly from its mothers stomach to its mouth.
The nurse wrapped it in an old blanket they found in the wash basket and handed it to the waiting arms of its mother. She stared down adoringly into those large, jet black (rather alien) almond shaped eyes.
At that point Mr Whitacre came in the room. Well, he said, that baby certainly Clawed its way into this world. Let's call it Brenda. Don’t be silly, said Mrs Whitacre, it’s a boy. Oh, said her husband, It was an honest mistake, I had not noticed anything much Down There……….
Wibble, bark, my old man's a mushroom etc...
Tons of FREE Public Domain content you can use to make your own content, PLR, digital and POD products.
Wibble, bark, my old man's a mushroom etc...
Tons of FREE Public Domain content you can use to make your own content, PLR, digital and POD products.
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Wibble, bark, my old man's a mushroom etc...
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Tons of FREE Public Domain content you can use to make your own content, PLR, digital and POD products.
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Tons of FREE Public Domain content you can use to make your own content, PLR, digital and POD products.
Raising a child is akin to knowing you're getting fired in 18 years and having to train your replacement without actively sabotaging them.
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Feel The Power Of The Mark Side
The Secret To Success In Any Business
Yes, Any Business!
Tons of FREE Public Domain content you can use to make your own content, PLR, digital and POD products.
The Secret To Success In Any Business
Yes, Any Business!
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Just when you think you've got it all figured out, someone changes the rules.
The Secret To Success In Any Business
Yes, Any Business!
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
The Secret To Success In Any Business
Yes, Any Business!
Feel The Power Of The Mark Side
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Feel The Power Of The Mark Side
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Feel The Power Of The Mark Side
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
Nothing to see here including a Sig so just move on :)
The Secret To Success In Any Business
Yes, Any Business!
Tons of FREE Public Domain content you can use to make your own content, PLR, digital and POD products.
Raising a child is akin to knowing you're getting fired in 18 years and having to train your replacement without actively sabotaging them.
What if they're not stars? What if they are holes poked in the top of a container so we can breath?
"If you think you're the smartest person in the room, then you're probably in the wrong room."
Cheers, Laurence.
Writer/Editor/Proofreader.
Sal
When the Roads and Paths end, learn to guide yourself through the wilderness
Beyond the Path