Alva Review-Courier -

Please don't squeeze the Charmin

 

October 7, 2018



The weather didn't look too promising for the parade, but maybe the rain stopped long enough for it. The weatherman said we could have from 3-6 inches of rain over the next 4 or 5 days. I hate to see everyone's hard work go to waste.

What a dreamer! In the time of Noah and the great 40-day flood, northwest Oklahoma only recorded four-tenths of an inch. If the water hadn't run in we would still have unicorns.

Wednesday was the grand opening of Gold Buckle Insurance. The building was the home of Kent Johnson Insurance as long as I can remember. My friend Yvonne Thilsted ran it for several years with the Johnson name still on the building. Recently, the business changed hands, hence the new name. Some of my insurance is with this company, so the free food sounded good. I even got Cleo out for the trip.

There were hamburgers, hot dogs, fruits and veggies, and other stuff. The only down side was when I told someone Cleo thought it was cannibalistic for me to eat vegetables, some of my “friends” mentioned other food -related comparisons with me. Oh well, Alex Mantz was there and she said there may be more openings coming up; I hope they have food. I mentioned to the new owners that they could have a meal every two weeks until winter then once a week but I think my proposal fell on deaf ears. Thanks to the new folks for the meal and good luck.

Cleo had a doctor appointment in Oklahoma City on Thursday. The procedure went well. We got to eat at our “favorite” new restaurant and I didn't get honked at or receive any obscene gestures while driving. It is rare I go anywhere, especially around medical places, without seeing someone I know, but this was one of those times. The only sad part of the trip was east of Hennessey coming home there had been a horrific wreck. Prayers to all involved.

There was a roll of toilet paper with a pair of sunglasses on it on Facebook with the following story: Hello, my name is Charmin and I want someone to notify my senator, my congressman, or the FBI, that back in the '60s and into the '70s an old man named Mr. Whipple used to squeeze me inappropriately, even though people told him repeatedly “please don't squeeze the Charmin.” I demand justice!

 

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