Thursday, December 5, 2013


Some time ago, I noticed that a lot of companies, stores, and firms started calling themselves "Mr" Whatever.  You remember Mr Donut and Mr Steak, right?  Both are gone, from around here at least, but what if we could spend an entire day patronizing nothing but businesses called Mr Something?

You wake up and the shower stall drain is backed up, you call Mister Plumber and in minutes you're out the door, heading for breakfast at Mister Donut.  But just as the key breaks off in the door as you lock the deadbolt, you remember that Mister Donut is closed, so while you wait for Mister Locksmith to come over and get you back in the house, you heat up your own breakfast in the microwave.  Which promptly stops working as soon as you take out the omelet that you learned to cook by watching Mr Food on the noon news. So as you polish up the pearly whites with your Mr Dentist kit from Popeil, you call Mister Appliance to come and repair the Radarange®.   While he's down in the kitchen, Mister Appliance notices that your vent ducts are all clogged up and he recommends that you call Mister Mechanical to come and unclogulate them.

Mister Mechanical is finished his work by noon, and you'd really love to run down to Mister Day's for lunch, but you have an appointment with Mr George Mister, CPA, to go over your taxes.  Mr Mister notices that someone cheated you last year. When you called Mister Home Remodeling, he advised you to call and get a truckload of windows from Mister Glass.  And the windows were fine, but the delivery guy charged you double, so you have to sue him.  Mr Mister CPA advises you to call Mr David Mister, Attorney at Law, so you can bring the suit.

Suit? Holy schamoley!  You have a big date tonight and you need to get your suit back from Mr Dry Cleaner!  But you can't get there because you have a flat tire.  Mr Tire has the tire you need and the guy there tightens up the fraddistand, saving you a trip to Mr Transmission.  You're so grateful, you bring him a sandwich from Mr Sub.

Mr Dry Cleaner couldn't get that catsup stain out of the suit jacket, so you swing by Mister Tuxedo and rent a grey Mr Dapper tux.  Off on the date, you get to the young lady's house just in time to get on the road to make your reservation at Mister Fish.  You meet her dad, notice that he is wearing a sailor suit, and as you whisk her out the door, you say, "Nice to meet you, Mr Salty!"

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