I love humor. I’m not really into jokes, but true stories are sometimes funnier than jokes, especially when we are able to turn the joke on ourselves. Try to visualize me weighing out bags of cat litter for future use.

Those who respond can laugh at my story or tell one of your own.

Here’s my folly:

I am having surgery to repair a naval or umbilical hernia on Jan 18. It’s outpatient and I’ll be home the same day. My surgeon has told me that I won’t be able to lift anything over 8 lbs. for 3 weeks. That presents a problem with changing the cat litter box. I don’t want to rip my guts out lifting a 20 or 25 lb bag of litter. Equally, boarding my furry friends for three weeks would stress both them and me out.

Those of you who have pets know we’ll do almost anything to accommodate them.

I have solved the problem by weighing out 7.5 lb bags of cat litter and placing them in drawstring bags. When it’s time to change the box, all I’ll have to do is take one bag out and insert another. So far, I’ve finished 5 bags. I need about 3 more.

I must go to the store and get more litter and box liners.

That actually sounds like a very good idea to me.

One of the silliest things I ever did was to spill the entire contents of a can of Dr. Pepper into my shoe -- while I was wearing it. This doesn't even seem possible, but I managed to do it.

Here's one of the best recent ones from my end.

Last semester I was in a cell biology class and every wednesday we had a lab. The normal routine was get the experiment started, address last weeks stuff if there was any, hand in papers, take a lab quiz, then finish up the experiment. The kind of stuff we did was hurry up and wait (ie. you start the experiment and wait for 10-60 min. for it to complete). This causes a lot of down time and bordom, but luckily I had two friends in the adjacent lab.

Whenever me or my other friends were just waiting around we would walk across and just chat for a while. Well one time, on a particularly boring day, I decided to see what they were up to. I start my way across completely in my own world wondering what silliness will ensue. As I get to their lab I notice it's unusually quiet and the TA seems to be talking, but that doesn't stop me. I keep going and look at my friends with a big dumb grin on my face and one of them gives me the what-are-you-doing-get-the-hell-out-of-here look (since their TA is very strict), but like I said, I was on a mission. I walk up the them and doing an Adam Sandler impression (a la Billy Madison) I belt out, in slightly southern accent, "Chlorophyll! More like boro-phyll!" and slap my friend on the back.

My friend says "Dude, we're doing our lab quizzes" and I look up to a horrified TA and see that the rest of the class is just staring at me. I just say "oh, damn" and kinda look around then leave and go sit at my experiment in amazment at what I'd just done.

Apparently the class lost it and everyone cracked up, but I was already gone by then. Oh well, as long as some people are getting a laugh it's all worth it.

Jeez, Victoria! Sounds like you have big feet. (Or, at least, big shoes, to accommodate both your feet and a 12 oz can's worth of Dr Pepper.) Didn't the bubbles tickle?

I remember once when I used to play pool regularly. Me and my friend Richard used to play regularly - twice or three times per week. We had this thing between us where we'd keep score, and the first to win 100 frames against the other would win dinner bought by the loser.

We always played in a local pub to my house called The Greyhound. They only had one pool table, but during the week (when we usually went there) it was mostly quiet and usually we could get 8-10 frames in each time we went, if not more. The table was lit with one of those special set-ups they have for pool tables, where the light fitting was suspended from chains that hung from the ceiling, so players didn't cast huge shadows on the table. The light fitting was about 3 feet from the baize, and the chains attached to either end.

Over time, I'd bought dinner two or three times, because while we were quite evenly matched, he was more competitive, so he used to win more f the finely balanced frames. (I used to think I wasn't a very competitive person, but then I realised I was comparing myself to Rich and another friend of mine at the time, Gill - who is now married to him.)

This one night, we were 99-all and dinner rested on the outcome of the frame we were playing. Gill was out with us this evening, so we had an audience. I was ahead in the frame and got onto the last ball before the black with an easy shot. I was really excited that I was finally going to win a meal!

I took my time, trying hard not to let my excitment get the better of me. I aimed carefully, put just the right weight behind the shot, and potted the ball perfectly to get onto the black with a straight shot and win the game.

"YESSSS!!" I shouted, thrusting my arm (the one holding the cue) in the air in a gesture of victory. Only the end of the cue got caught in the light fitting, unhooking one end from the suspending chains. Suspended now from only one end, the lighting rig (seemingly in slow motion) pivoted down along the pool table, sweeping the remaing balls, including the black and the cue ball, up the table, potting the black.

Rich and Gill burst into uncontrollable laughter now - they still giggle at the memory over 5 years later - which of course drew the attention of the rest of the pub, while I fumbled with the light fitting (which had simply unhooked, but I initially thought i'd broken it). Apparently - so they tell me - this was even funnier to watch tha my face as I watched myself lose the pool game and the meal.

If I ever write a comedy show, this will be in it. If only so I can finally get some benefit out of it for myself.

Ouch! I can identify with that, although as a general rule you wouldn't find me hefting a 20-lb bag of kitty litter. LOL I actually buy the smaller, 14-lb boxes of Arm & Hammer Super Scoop even though it's more expensive that way, because the 21-lb box is just too damn heavy for me to handle.

When I read your story, what occurred to me was how often I find myself draped pretzel-shaped on my bed in the middle of the night because some furry little darling just HAS to have the exact center for her snooze. God, my back hurts this morning ... LMAO.

Oh, and this is really embarrassing to admit, but ... about a dozen years ago, the first time I worked in an office where we used e-mail, I accidentally sent a sarcastic, rather risque reply to the "global" list when I mean to reply to the company receptionist only (her message was sent to the "global" list and I hit reply before realizing that it would "reply all" ... lol)

It was a good three years before I lived that one down at that company. LOL

Think I've got an angel on my shoulder who keeps me humble. Every time I've felt cool in my life, whammo!

It happened while riding a chopper in the '70s through this little town. Old guys were watching on from a gas station as I made a turn, caught some gravel, and down I went.

"Watch out for the gravel!" one hollered as I was picking up the bike.

Same decade, Max and I were doing an open stage, and just before our little time slot, I spilled beer in my lap. Hoped the guitar covered up the wet spot. Max was laughing so hard he could hardly play harp.

There are too many humbling experiences to list. Don't even want to think about work situations, but anyone who has worked on big computer iron knows the feeling of hitting the wrong key at the wrong time and finally getting that meeting with the VP. It's a bad time to ask for a raise.

Oh, then there was the time a couple years ago when I grabbed a pumpkin from the wrong part of a pumpkin pyramid at the grocery store. They went all over the parking lot! Now they use big boxes to hold 'em. Guess I wasn't the only one.

Getting trapped underneath my car when I was pulling the manual transmission to change the clutch friction plate -- that was a lot of laughs. Let's just say that many of the Three Stooges' situations are way too close and personal. Don't ask me about plumbing.

I've got enough to fill a small volume, where to start.

You military folks will appriciate this one.

I was at Fort Huachuca for my AIT a little more than four years ago. I was on the "morning schedule" which meant that I went to class at 0400 (meaning that we were seated in class at four, we generally got up about 0330, unless you slcked off on ironing your uniform the night before ) Anyhow, those of us with the morning schedule generally went to sleep soon after chow, sometime about 1800 (6 PM).

At around 2100 (9 PM) the Drill Sergeants performed bedcheck (making sure all the soldiers were in their dorms ready for bed. Well, I had been asleep for sometime and my new roommates decided to be "Blue Falcons" (a nice term for a person who doesn't look out for their fellow soldiers) and not wake me up for it.

I'm having a pretty lucid nightmare, about what, I can't remember anymore, but what I do remember is hearing this:

YERAGGGGHHHHHHHHH!

I'm startled out of bed (still half asleep) screaming like I was the one being murdered. I snapped to parade rest (with my eyes still closed) and my DS screams in my face, "WHERE THE *expleteive* ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE, PRIVATE!?"

My reply? "I DON'T KNOW, DRILL SERGEANT!"

The entire wing of the barracks was already erupting in laughter, and my response only added fuel to the fire. Supposedly you could hear my screaming from the floors below.

I just remembered two more from my basic training in Fort Jackson, South Carolina....

They both involve teargas (CS).

The first one was the "Gas Chamber", where you are walked in with your masks on into a small brick house, where one of the rooms is filled with teargas. You walk in, are ordered to take off your helmet and place it between your knees. You then remove your mask, and are to recite your name, rank and social security number with yours eyes open. You then are allowed to put your mask back on, and re-seal it.

I was worried at first, but I soon gained my confidence and when it was my turn to recite I said the following:

Pvt. Jerin Reta.......

I had brain farted at the worst time imagineable. I started to panic, and inhaled a bit, which made me start to cough violently. The DS told me to get my mask back on and re-seal. Panicking, I fumbled for anything to keep the gas from buring my eyes and lungs further, and picked up.... my kevlar helmet.

Needless to say, word got back to the company.

Apparently, that was a first for the DS's, and I think at FT. Jackson period. The DS's made me go back, and before I panicked, a really cool DS told me to "Just say it now!" which I did and resealed my mask in record time.

The second time that I had a run-in with teh tear gas was at our FTX, which is a 3 day/night exercise out in the woods.

Well, we had all been on guard for the tear gas all weekend. They used the fake stuff for the last two days prior, and we were ready on the last day for it. One of the DS's came by our foxholes just before they let it loose and said "If anyone has a malfunction with their mask, just ask for a DS."

With the will that I would win this battle against the teargas, I was ready and they let it loose.

I was like, great! I can't smell it! My mask is seal... *sniff*...*sniff*. My nose started to run. Uh-oh...it wasn't sealed. "Drill Sergeant, my mask isn't sealed properly." No one replied. I called out again, and that cloud pushing through the trees made its way down wind. No answer. Now the cloud enveloped me and, not wanting to experience this again, I did something most people might do.

I took off.

I leaped out of my foxole and sprinted down the line until I was out of the clouds reach. After a few minutes, I walked back and one of my battle buddies in a couple foxholes down asked "Where'd you go?" I told him what happend and he said "That was you? I saw this figure hauling butt coming towards me and zipped right behind me! That was you!?"

Needless to say, by chow, everyone had heard about it. Thank goodness it wasn't the most funniest thing that happend that day, apparently I was beat by a private who had the unlucky hand of having a canister of the stuff tossed into his tent accidentaly by a DS who had caught a wiff of the stuff from a breeze that blew through as he opend it, and threw the cannister refexively.

CS 2, Jerin 0....