DILLIGS: Springtime Mayhem

by Mary Tompsett

And another thing: Why do we have a national holiday celebrating mayonnaise?? Cinco de Mayo should reach out to include other condiments, like ketchup and mustard, maybe pickle relish. Just a thought. Such expectations can get us into trouble. And what can we do when expectations are shattered? Let the sanest voice in our head holler, “Cleanup in Aisle Five!” and then move on. That said, I invite you now to join me and all my voices as we ladle out the juicy chunks of wisdom that have settled to the bottom of this pot I call DILLIGS?! (Does It Look Like I Give a Sh*t?!)

QUESTION: My niece moved to the town of Effingham, Illinois. Is the name British in origin? DILLIGS: By Jove, I daresay it’s not bloody likely. My research has revealed that in 1853 the early settlement had a small restaurant with a limited menu of beef, chicken or ham. The woman in charge was a surly mackabroin. Anyway, a guy orders the beef but she says they’re sold out. So he says he’ll have the chicken. Nope, that’s gone too. The guy frowns, but before he can speak, she declares, “So, the ‘effing’ ham it is.”

QUESTION: I work for a coffin and burial urn company and our current staff meetings focus on redoing our PR materials and mission statement. Any suggestions? DILLIGS: Considering the narrow market niche you have, namely, DEATH, you’d do well with a catchy name, something like “Grin and Bury It”; “Coffins ’n Cookie Jars”; or perhaps “The Cozy Cadaver.” Mission statements are best kept simple. If you insist on a longer blurb, just mix nouns such as Service, Integrity and Quality with a few punchy verbs from a travel brochure. Otherwise, you can expect staff meetings filled with endless nitpicking discussion. Strive to make the mission statement short and clear. Example: “We’ll do anything for an ‘effing’ profit.” The most important thing to remember is that mission statement and missionary position are completely different animals. Better to cut your tongue out than mistakenly begin a staff meeting with, “Okay, Gladys, let’s hear your ideas on improving the missionary position!”

QUESTION: I heard in the news that cops witnessed a boy saving a squirrel’s life with CPR. Can you comment on these everyday miracles? DILLIGS: Never fear, dear reader, for I can and will comment on anything. The first miracle is that the kid chose chest-compression instead of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. This smart move led to more miracles: No squirrel bites. No rabies. No danger of entangling the sharp squirrel teeth with his braces. No costly dental extraction of a rodent; thus, no insurance hassle over stupidity being an uncovered pre-existing condition. Want more miracles? The kid didn’t try to launch the Heimlich Maneuver on a choking hippo! Let us pause for a moment and toy with that image. Now consider this: a genuine made-for-Hollywood miracle would be if the boy had performed a tracheotomy—on a flailing giraffe—using his Swiss Army knife, the low-end basic model with no “effing” surgical tools. Copyright ©2019?

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