Strikin' Paydirt

I have recently came into a large sum of money due to my hard work and business acumen. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure how to reinvest it. So, any (free) investment advice would be greatly appreciated.
You can try this yourself if you would like to make a little cash (legally) on the side for only a few minutes of work (I use the term work very loosely).
Last week, as I was headed to work, I came up on a school bus that was stopped to pick up a group of grade-schoolers. I, of course, stopped to allow the likely dubious ruffians to herd themselves like cattle into the bus. As I was sitting there wondering why it was taking those hooligans so long to get on the bus and sit down, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a Saturn (the car, not the planet) coming straight at me with its wheels locked up, smoking like it's tires were on fire.
I frightfully profaned, “%&@#, I’M A DEAD MAN!!!”
Golly gee wilikers, the joy of knowing you are one slow-motion second away from getting smacked like a Tiger Woods golf ball. (Well, the positive side of this was that I was going to get to meet all those nice little boys and girls when my car gets parked right in the middle their school bus.)
Fortunately, I was calmed by the elderly ladies well manicured fingernails that were glued to her wide open mouth.
…SKREEEECH…BAMMM!!!
I felt the impact lunge me forward as my brain bounced around like a pinball in my skull.
“Come on airbag, save my life…………………………”
… nothing. No airbag.
“Fiddle de de.”
I quickly gathered myself and examined my face in the rear view mirror and saw that I still had my rugged good looks (that I am so well known for). I could deal with a lost limb as long as I still had my good looks (that I am so well known for).
Upon further examination, I discovered that I still had all my limbs and that I didn’t have any gaping holes in my jugular(s) (I don’t know how many jugular(s) I have, and hopefully I never have to find out).
The other driver and I pulled over to the side of the road to examine the damage and exchange insurance information.
“I am sooo sorry”, she burst out.
“Ohh, I’m fine. Are you ok?” I asked.
I walked around to the back of my car to assess the damage. There was only damage to the bottom of my bumper where her car slid under mine.
“Well, that doesn’t look too ba…”
“Do you even want to turn it in to insurance?” she interrupted.
“Umm, well… yeah. I would like someone to take a look at it to make sure my axle is not going to snap in half while I am driving 70 mph down the freeway, sending me flying off a tall bridge doing summersaults in a ball of fire. ”
“Ohh, ok.” she said dejectedly.
We exchanged each other’s insurance info and went on our way.
The next day, I got a call from her insurance agency who told me that they were accepting fault and would later send out an adjustor to assess the damage.
The next day a cheerful grey-haired man came out and checked out the car and informed me that he would compile the information. He also told me that he would have claims representative contact me shortly to provide the necessary details.
The next day, I got a call from the insurance company.
Satan-“Hello, I am calling for Mr. Ard”
“Speaking…”
“Yes, we looked over the information that the adjustor provided and we have determined that the damage totaled 12 dollars.”
“WHAT?!? 12 dollars?!?”
“Yeah, there was some damage that was already on the bumper, so all we can give you is 12 dollars.”
So, now I am $12 richer. Well, not exactly. As I am typing this story right now I am enjoying the fruits of my shredded bumper. I am eating a “Shrek Push Up” Popsicle. I had to splurge a little. It cost $3.09; $8.91 left to invest. I have a couple of good leads already. A friend of mine is willing to sell me some stock in Fanny Mae. I was thinking something more like State Farm. If they only give out $12 to every accident victim, they must be making money hand over fist. On second thought, I think I am just going to spend the rest of it on a cheeseburger.

Everybody Poops

I walked in to the kid’s bathroom after work today and was struck by two things right away. The first was that their bathroom was clean! It‘s been a while since there wasn’t any towels or clothes on the floor; and not for lack of nagging on my part.

“Afton… when are you going to clean the kids bathroom? I had an angry badger jump out and hiss at me this morning while it was moving its babies between dirty laundry piles. And now I can’t find it because it has too many places to hide.” 

Afton groans, “Aww, I hate cleaning the bathrooms.”

 “But, I thought you like cooking and cleaning. You told me that before we got married. I remember you specifically saying, “I can’t wait to have our own place where I can cook and clean and do laundry”.”

“Yeah… I changed my mind… I hate it now. Why don’t you go ahead and do it?”

Ding, ding, ding…and with that, the prize fight was over: TKO in the first round.

So now you can imagine my surprise when I walked in today and it was clean.

However, upon further inspection, I noticed a pair of the kid’s pants in the corner; someone had an accident.

 This reminded me of some close calls in my own life.  

When I was on my mission in Seoul Korea, we missionaries ate a lot of spicy foods that did not always agree with us. I remember one time my companion (Elder Bodine) and I were headed to an appointment across town. We had our traditional spicy teriyaki beef and rice for breakfast (they don’t like to eat sweets in the morning. They think it’s gross to eat sweets first thing in the morning). We had our scripture study and panned out our discussion. We were feeling good and ready for the day.

We headed for the bus stop that was only a few hundred yards from our place. I felt great! We hopped on the 30 year old sun faded bus as it spewed black smoke into the air. It was a hot and humid morning that got even hotter and more humid as we stood shoulder to shoulder (well, shoulder to elbow) with 50 sweaty Koreans (who also ate spicy beef for breakfast (the morning sweats rule also applies to toothpaste)).  

It was about a 25 minute bus ride to our first appointment. Almost immediately I started feeling my stomach tie in knots. After a few minutes in the bus, I told my companion that I needed to find a bathroom.  We were close to a shopping center so he agreed. I went over to the cord next to the bus doors. You would pull the cord to let the bus driver know that you wanted off at the next stop.

I gave the cord a good tug and the buzzer went off. I was thinking about how we would have plenty of time to run to the bathroom, catch another bus, and still make it to our appointment with plenty of time to spare.

Then I saw the bus stop sign flash by. I quickly gave the cord a quick frantic yank. Buzz…

 The bus driver kept driving like he heard nothing. I figured the next stop was close so I waited patiently.

A mile later, the bus finally stopped. At this point I was trying not to panic. My companion and I started walking back toward the shopping center off in the distance.

“Ok, if we hurry I should be fine.”I say trying to stay positive.

In complete silence we hastily walk toward the bathrooms. Then 50 yards from the bathrooms-I freeze.

Elder Bodine- “Elder Ard, why did you stop?!? The bathroom is right there! Come on, hurry up!”

With my eyes popping out of my head as if I had just seen Sasquatch, I stood motionless.

Without making any movement, I whispered like a ventriloquist, “I can’t! If I take one more step I will have an accident right here in front of all these people.”

My companion turned around, saw my face, and erupted in laughter, “Hahahaha…you should …hahahahahaha…you should…hahahaha…see…your face…hahahaha. I wish I had my camera…hahahaha… your face is hilarious right now…hahahaha” as he doubles over grabbing his side in hysteria.  

With my teeth clinched tight I exclaim, “Elder Bodine, I can’t make it to the bathroom.

“Well, you don’t have a choice unless you are going to go to the bathroom in your pants right here…hahahaha”

At this point, I’m thinking about escape routes and how to get another pair of pants.

After standing motionless for two or three minutes, the overwhelming urge subsided slightly. I ran for my life and made it to the bathroom with .0987 seconds left to spare! Yikes!

I later found out that one of the elders in my mission had the same problem while he was on the subway. Unfortunately, he passed out… and well, you can guess the rest of that story.

Cowboy Up!

It has been 12 years since I was a priest; however, I still have such fond memories of the blessings and joy that come from fulfilling my priesthood responsibilities (if going on super activities is a priesthood responsibility).
Here’s the story-
About nine months before I turned 16, there were only a couple of teachers in our ward. My bishop at the time (Bishop Trone) decided (I am not making this up) that since the Church believes that life begins at conception, I was old enough to go with the priests on their super activity. That year, their activity was riding poorly trained horses into God’s country. This place brought us young men closer to God (because of the exquisite beauty and the 1000’ foot vertical cliffs that screamed certain death with every shaky step of our untrained horses). We never prayed so much in our lives seeing as we were always one misplaced hoof away from meeting our creator.
Now the one thing we did have on our side was experience. We were all told that if we did not come out and work with our assigned horses, we were not going on the trip! I made sure that I worked with my horse. I wanted to be comfortable standing on the saddle while my horse galloped across the wide open grass fields. I also wanted to make sure that I knew how to jump onto the horse from the rear (in case I needed to expeditiously escape any masked bandits) just to name a couple of horse trick musts.
Well, I didn’t get much time to work on all of my sweet tricks, seeing as I spent most of my time trying to catch my horse.
Ray (owner of the wild horses)-“What are you doin’ you dummy?!?
Me- “I was hoping to eventually saddle this horse”.
“Yi do it like dat and dat harse ill’ kick you right in yur twig and berries. Here let me do it!”
Ray proceeded to tie the horse’s feet together with rope. He then threw a saddle onto the half bucking and hobbled horse.
“Dar yi go, hop on.”
“Ohh…ummm… can I see someone else do it first?” I asked with my lips quivering.
“You aint in the Girl Scouts are yi?!? Just hop on!” he snapped.
Trying to keep the high pitched shrills suppressed, I sealed my lips and cautiously force myself to put my left foot into the stirrup. The horse then began to jump up and down as if he were riding a pogo stick (apparently I had a horse with a fondness for kid’s toys).
I leaped back.
“Aww, dat aint nuttin. All harses do dat. Wir’ burnin daylight, hop on.”
At this point the horse seemed to have gotten all of his “Pogo sticking” out of his system. I was able to put my foot into the stirrup and throw my leg over the saddle.
I spent the next 20 minutes getting used to how the horse moved and how it would repeatedly try to catapult me over its head. That was all I could take of the horse trying to whip my head around like a punching bag. It was time to call it a day.
For a first time rider, I thought I did pretty well. No major injuries and I still had all my body parts. I was now an experiences horseman. You might say “NO WAY! Not after just one lesson!
Well you are wrong. I was an experienced horseman. I had to be. The horse trip was 5 days away and that was my first and last training session.

To be continued…