Grampa's Naughty Bedtime Stories & Other Stuff

By George F. Loucks

A Rabelaisian collection of prose and poesy as recalled by that Old Curmudgeon, Grampa. The stories, limericks and one-liners range from rather bland to quite blue. Many Golden Oldies are included in the book.

Warning:This collection is definitely not for children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 9, 2003
• ISBN: 9781465332493

George F. Loucks

I was born on 16 July 1924, about 20 miles south of the United States border. No, not Mexico, but Essex, Ontario, Canada (just south of Detroit., Michigan) I received a B.A. from the University of Western Ontario, retired from the RCAF (Royal Canadian Air Force) after twenty years as a pilot, and then taught Technical Writing at SIAST (Saskatchewan Institute of Applied Science and Technology) for seventeen years. Now, twice-retired I dabble in the arts, especially painting and writing. I have three lovely daughters and seven beautiful grandchildren; we drown the ugly ones at birth.

Book preview

GRAMPA’S

NAUGHTY BEDTIME

STORIES

& OTHER STUFF

GEORGE F. LOUCKS

Copyright © 2002 by George F. Loucks.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any

information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright

owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of

the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons,

living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

15847-LOUC

Contents

PREFACE

GRAMPA’S BEDTIME STORIES

Critics are screaming about this book

When I read this book, I laughed till I stopped.—Bob Hoop, comedian

Every so often a book comes along. This is such a book.—Alcatraz Monitor

One of the new millennium’s most recent books—The Puce Chronicle

Pages and pages of pure prose and verse.—The Owl Pelvis Dispatch

This is a dirty book. This book is filled with nothing but filth and pornography.—Larry Flint, Rustler

If you don’t read this book, you won’t know what you’re missing.—Readers’ Ingest

‘This book should be burned!"—A. Schicklegruber

If this is the kind of book you enjoy reading, then this is the book for you.—Ploughboy Magazine

Naughty, naughty, Grampa!—Martha Stuart

To my three daughters: Patti, Karren and Sandi without whose constant nagging I wouldn’t have finished it.

To my grandchildren: Kyla, Miranda, Tarra, Mimi, Kelsey, Adam and Robert, who listened to the milder stories as they grew up.

To Syd, the other Old Fart, who supplied some of the contents from Debbie, Judy, and Toni through the Internet. He listened to most of these stories and gasped for breath while laughing (he smokes too much.)

And last, post humorously to Vince Crompton, perhaps the best storyteller I have ever listened to bar none.

PREFACE

READ THIS!

It wouldn’t be here if you weren’t expected to read it.

Hey. Do you want to hear a good story?

How many times have you heard someone ask this question? More important, how many times have you heard anyone say, no?

Well, this is a collection of some of my favorite stories. Do you want to hear them?

I’ve arrived at a ripe old age where I can pretty well get away with saying some atrocious things in public and mixed company. A few people politely call me a curmudgeon; less polite people call me an old fart; the rest just call me a dirty old man.

I’ve been listening to and telling stories as long as I can remember, and I’ve been lucky enough to hear stories told by some of the best raconteurs. I’m thankful that I forgot I have Alzheimer’s, or I wouldn’t have been able to remember all of them.

Many of the stories in this collection are politically incorrect and they cover a multitude of subjects, the main one being sex, of course. Others may have to do with race, occupations and religions. If you don’t like them, don’t read them. Some readers may be so offended that they would like to see this book burned. If you feel that way, just remember that not so long ago a fellow named Adolf had books burned because he didn’t like them, and you know the trouble he caused.

This collection includes limericks (which are really very short stories in rhyme), and the subjects range from rather bland to quite blue. Make like a boy scout, and ‘be prepared’. Language will vary from innocuous to obscene, so, if you are easily shocked by colorful language, read no further, this book is not for you.

Throughout this storybook, I’ve taken the liberty to include comments about some of the stories concerning people, places, and circumstances relating to the entries. I have also included my opinion about the use of certain words such as, gay and ass because I love the English language and hate to hear or see it misused. If you don’t like my comments just remember that I warned you.

Fads in humor come and go. We have had elephant jokes, dumb blond jokes, knock-knocks, little moron jokes, and so on. I’m particularly fond of some of the old Confucius Say one-liners that were usually told with a pseudo-Chinese accent. I have distributed some of these throughout this book.

By the way, for those who didn’t know, Confucius or K’ung Fu-tsu was actually a Chinese philosopher who lived in the 5th6th century B.C.

If you are offended by off-color language, read no further, but those of you who don’t mind a little gutter talk, read and enjoy.

But first, some definitions:

I don’t particularly care for the use of gay to denote a male homosexual. Don’t misunderstand my position. I am not a gay basher, and have friends of long standing who are homosexuals or lesbians. I would only prefer not to suddenly change the meaning of an old, established English word.

The following Oxford English Dictionary definition for gay is:

Gay: full or disposed to joy and mirth, light-hearted, exuberantly cheerful, sportive, or merry. The first entry is 1310 A D. – But in 1971, originating in USA: a homosexual, especially a male homosexual.

Note that for over 600 years the word described a happy or joyous state. It seems to me that the old meaning doesn’t particularly apply to most homosexuals today.

The new usage also corrupts the meanings of such titles and phrases as: Gay Paree, Gaite Parisienne, Enola Gay, the Gay Nineties, gay deceivers (padded bras), and Our Hearts Were Young and Gay, and so on.

I wouldn’t particularly care to revert to such terms as queer, fairy or homo, even though I have heard lesbians freely call themselves queer. I would rather see a different spelling of the word such as gey or gaye to denote homosexuals. I have used the latter in some of the stories.

Now, as to the use of ass in modern writing. Again, some definitions:

Arse:—the fundament or buttocks, posterior or rump of an animal—1000 to 1377 A D.

Ass: around 1008 A.D.—A beast of burden, smaller than a horse, having long ears and a tuft of hair at the end of its tail.—Chiefly used in U.S. to denote the derriere or buttocks. First used by sailors in this sense about 1860. (I have taken the liberty of using both of the preceding words in both their English and American spellings.)

Bitch: A female of the canine family or an extremely unpleasant woman. To call an animal a female dog is like saying a female bull, which is an oxymoron. Dog denotes male; bitch denotes female. (Now, ain’t that a bitch?)

There are numerous jokes about attorneys or lawyers, but I have taken the liberty of changing most of them to politicians; besides, most politicians started out as lawyers anyway.

The contents are a potpourri except for a few instances where I have collected some items that concern one subject area.

But, enough of this, Let’s get to the stories, one-liners, and limericks.

As I said before, read and enjoy.

Grampa

GRAMPA’S BEDTIME STORIES

I believe this is the ultimate limerick because it goes back to the beginning of sex in our civilization:

In the Garden of Eden sat Adam,

With his hands on the thighs of his madam. He chuckled with mirth, "‘Cause he new, on this earth

There were only two balls, and he had ‘em.

* * *

Under the spreading chestnut tree The village idiot sat, Amusing himself By abusing himself, And catching it in his hat.

* * *

Two inmates of a mental institution had rooms across from one another. They both believed they were Napoleon, and had been arguing for days.

You can’t be Napoleon, because I’m Napoleon! Shouted one inmate. No, you’re not. I’m Napoleon! countered the other. Who told you that you were Napoleon? the first one asked.

God said I was Napoleon. The other replied smugly.

I certainly did not! boomed a voice from the next room.

* * *

My brother loved to explode the inflated egos of pompous arses, especially those who considered themselves to be devoted Christians. This was the best story he used for its shock value:

A beautiful silver space saucer suddenly appeared over Washington and landed on the lawn of the Whitehouse. A door slowly opened, and a shining figure stepped out and stood unmoving as crowds gathered.

As usual the military took over and surrounded the saucer at some distance. Cooler heads prevailed and, since the figure looked like a heavenly visitor rather than a dangerous alien, a delegation of religious personages were soon assembled. The senior delegate was a Catholic bishop who was chosen as their spokesman. He approached the glowing figure apprehensively and asked, Are you an angel?

The figure looked at him and smiled beatifically, Yes, I am. it replied.

Are you from Heaven?

Yes.

Would you answer some questions, please? asked the bishop.

That is why I am here. was the reply.

May I ask you a question about God?

Certainly. What would you like to know?

What is God really like?

She’s a nigger. was the reply.

* * *

Oscar Wilde was notorious for his sexual preferences, and his friends feared that his affection for young boys would be his undoing.

They finally persuaded Oscar to curb his appetite for young boys and planned an elaborate medieval feast to celebrate the occasion.

The guests were waited on hand and foot by the liveried pages who stood behind each guest’s chair. The festivities were proceeding beautifully until someone noticed that Oscar was missing, and, worst of all, his personal page was also missing.

The house was searched, and they finally found Oscar disrobing in a bedroom while his naked page cowered beneath a sheet on the bed.

Good lord, Oscar. You promised that you were going to turn over a new leaf! exclaimed one of his friends.

I certainly intend to turn over a new leaf, Oscar replied, Just as soon as I get to the bottom of this page.

* * *

A farmer’s teenage daughter accompanied him when he took his prize bull to a neighbour’s farm to service his friend’s cow. His friend had a teenage son who sat on a fence beside the young girl watching as the bull went through his paces. When the bull was finished, the girl turned to the lad and asked, How’d you like to do that?

Wow! Yeah! exclaimed the eager young man.

Well, go ahead, said the girl, She’s your cow!

* * *

Mae West always maintained, A hard man nowadays is good to find.

* * *

There was a young girl from Madras

Who had the most beautiful ass.

‘Twasn’t round. ‘Twasn’t pink,

As some people might think,

But was gray, had long ears, and ate grass.

. . . Which brings up a point. The proper English word for what the French call a derriere is arse, (check your Chaucer), but modern American and Canadian usage has made the word ass more popular, hence the admonishment intended in that last limerick.

* * *

A horny young German soldier was searching a Parisian apartment building when he came upon a young woman whom he promptly proceeded to rape in the usual nasty Nazi fashion. When he finished, he zipped up, came to attention, gave the Nazi salute and said, In nine months you will have a male child and you will name him Adolf. Heil Hitler!

And in a few days, you’ll break out in a rash, and you can call it prickly heat, she calmly replied.

* * *

Mrs. Murphy met Mrs. Sullivan while they were shopping. What are these lies you’ve been spreading about my husband?

Mrs. Murphy asked. And just what have I been saying? Mrs. Sullivan replied. You’ve been saying my husband has a wart on the end of his tool! I said no such thing. Mrs. Sullivan replied. I only said it felt like it.

* * *

A young hillbilly took his new bride up the mountain to a little honeymoon shack after their wedding. The next morning, his father met him coming down the mountain alone with his rifle over his shoulder.

Where’s yer bride, son? the father asked.

I shot ‘er, Paw. was the reply.

Now what’d ya do a dern fool thing like that, boy? Had to, Paw. She was a virgin. His father pondered this for a moment. Ya done right boy,

his father replied. If she ain’t good enough for her own kinfolk, she ain’t good enough for ours.

* * *

A Hillbilly Poem

Suzy Lee fell in love. She planned to marry Joe. She was so happy ‘bout it all, She told her Pappy so.

Pappy told her, Suzy, gal, You’ll have to find another. I’d just as soon yer maw don’t know, But Joe is yer half-brother.

So Suzy forgot about her Joe And planned to marry Will, But after telling Pappy this, He said, "There’s trouble still.

You cain’t marry Will, my gal, And please don’t tell yer mother. ‘Cause Will, you know, as well as Joe, Is also yer half-brother."

But Momma knew and said Sweet Chile, Do what makes you happy. Marry Will or marry Joe, ‘Cause you ain’t no kin to Pappy.

* * *

News Bulletin: Iraq’s worst air disaster occurred today when a small two-seater plane crashed into a cemetery early this morning. Search and rescue crews have recovered 652 bodies so far and expect the number will climb as digging continues well into the night.

* * *

Dr. Wiggins had sex with one of his patients and had been feeling guilty for days. Two opposing voices seemed to speak to him.

The first voice tried to soothe his conscience by saying, Don’t worry about it. Your not the first doctor to have sex with a patient, nor will you be the last. Besides your single, so forget about it, and get on with your life.

But the other voice admonished him and brought him back to reality by saying, Shame on you. Remember that you’re a veterinarian.

* * *

He was only three feet tall, but he succeeded in marrying a Las Vegas showgirl who was just over six feet. A few weeks after their marriage, he went to his lawyer and said he wanted a divorce.

Are you crazy? said the lawyer, Your lucky to have such a beautiful woman as your wife! Why would you want to divorce her?

Well, when we’re nose-to-nose, my toes are in it, and when we’re toes-to-toes my nose is in it, and when we’re doing it right, I’m lonesome.

As we entered this new millennium, an advertisement for Molson’s Canadian beer appeared on the TV screens in both Canada and the U.S.A. In the commercial, a young man raved about why he was proud to be a Canadian. It was called The Canadian Rant.

I’m proud to be a Canadian too, and here are some of the reasons why:

OH, CANADA (not the national anthem)

What do Canadians have to be proud of? Well . . .-Smarties-Crispy Crunch and Coffee Crisp

-Hockey is Canadian-Basketball is Canadian-Apple pie is Canadian-Mr. Dressup could kick Mr. Roger’s arse-Tim Horton beats Dunkin’ Donuts every time-In the War of 1812 (started