I used to work at a pizza parlor. One day, I got an interesting phone call. This is how the conversation went: "Hi, I'd like to order 100 pepperoni pizzas." "Could I have your name and address please?" "Pinky's Purse." "What are you talking about? There is no such business! May I have your address?" "Just deliver 100 pizzas to Pinky's Purse." "What ARE you talking about?" "Haha... fooled you. This is your manager. No, I don't really need 100 pizzas." So, that's where I got the idea for my nickname from. Anyone else with funny but true stories is welcome to share in this discussion.

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I was in Latvia, one of the Baltic States, during the Communist times. I was staying with a group of English and German speaking missionaries and being the only Latvian/German/English speaker in the group, I was translating in all different directions and became quite tired. The hostess was an old farmer's widow, who was rather deaf.

One morning at breakfast someone asked for some sauce, or ketchup. I duly translated and the old lady looked at me horrified and said "No, maybe later". I understood. The shops were bare, she had little money, not being a communist she had little chance of getting anything. I explained this to the person who asked for the sauce and we thought no more about it.

We came back from our missionary work and there were delicisious smells coming from the kitchen - and the farm yard seemed rather quiet.

I asked the lady what it was that she had cooked, and she told me that I had asked for it that morning. Horrors! She had killed her only goose and cooked it because I had used the German word for sauce, which sounds similar to the word for GOOSE in Latvian! Talk about sacrificial giving. That goose was her guard-dog to chase away people who would come and steal her firewood which she used not only to heat the water and the house, but also to cook on!

Needless to say I felt terrible shame, but arranged for the rest of the group to chip in a bit of money - she would never have been able to afford ONE goose, and we bought six for her! I have never been able to look at a goose again since, and that was in 1991 - a few weeks before Latvia became free of the Communists!
Oops. Guess you didn't get ketchup to go with the cooked goose :P Glad you bought her more Geese!
I too am glad you got her another goose. No wonder the lady was upset at what she thought you had said. Thanks for posting.
Here's something from my church bulletin that I see every week that always cracks me up:

"PROMISE KEEPERS: Thursdays at 7 PM, our men's ministry & friends meet to pray, be accountable, study the Bible, and become vulnerable with each other. Currently (name withheld) is leading our group through the book of Exodus. We meet behind the pastor's office and are looking for new men every week."
Lauging! I wish some mistakes would be left in our church news letter would be left in! Instead, our church administrator is ex army and we have words in it like "patrols", "debriefing" ... very dry!

I'm officially a Certified Weenie now. That's a picture of the front of my weenie shirt that I got at the Nascar Cafe in Las Vegas because I couldn't finish a B3 burrito.
So my boyfriend and I were at this cool restaurant in Chicago...and once he finished with his meal he stepped out for a cigarette. 2 mins later he came back in all excited and just said" come with...I have to show you..come with me" . I followed him outside and he just pointed to the light post. It took me a sec to realize what he was so amused by. On the light post on the street corner there was a giant graffiti sticker of wilford brimley just like this one. I looked at him and said" I want it. get it for me!!". He tried to reach up and peel it off for me but he couldn't reach...so I told him I would piggy back him...I attempted to piggy back him to boost him up and it was taking too long to peel the sticker delicately. This must have looked a bit strange as I was wearing a fantastic pretty in pink punky dress and my boyfriend is a thoroughly bearded fella who is also bit bigger than me. I wasn't holding his weight that well so my face was sort of shoved against the post and I see out of the corner of my eye that there is a police cruiser lurking across the street. I watch the police officer point...turn his sirens on and slowly drive over to park right in front of us on the street, facing traffic. I started laughing so hard I couldn't catch my breath...and it took a second for my boyfriend to notice that the police were there. The officer said" Maam. Is everything alright??" I just laughed so hard ...and said "yes everything is ok"...and my boyfriend said..."Um we were just removing this graffiti for you". I laughed so hard. I love that story!

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