Ode to an Outhouse page 3 Humor

These I got sent to me in e-mails if you know who wrote them let me know so I can give them credit.

I added a new out house here. This one was sent to me in an e-mail. You will find it at almost the bottom of the page.

The service station trade was slow

The owner sat around,

With sharpened knife and cedar stick

Piled shavings on the ground.

No modern facilities had they,

The log across the rill

Led to a shack, marked His and Hers

That sat against the hill.

"Where is the ladies rest room, sir?"

The owner leaning back,

Said not a word but! whittled on,

And nodded toward the shack.

With quickened step she entered there

But only stayed a minute,

Until she screamed, just like a snake

Or spider might be in it.

With startled look and beet red face

She bounded through the door,

And headed quickly for the car

Just like three gals before.

She missed the foot log - jumped the stream

The owner gave a shout,

As her silk stockings, down at her knees

Caught on a sassafras sprout.

She tripped and fell - got up, and then

In obvious disgust,

Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,

And faded in the dust.

Of course we all desired to know

What made the gals all do

The things they did, and then we found

The whittling owner knew.

A speaking system he'd devised

To make the thing complete,

He tied a speaker on the wall

Beneath the toilet seat.

He'd wait until the gals got set

And then the devilish tyke,

Would stop his whittling long enough,

To speak into the mike.

And as she sat, a voice below

Struck terror, fright and fear,

"Will you please use the other hole,

We're painting under here!

While on a trip to Missouri in 1977, we happen on to this cute tourist place. I don't remember the name of it. We walked around, found a barrel with a sign that said "Caution Baby Rattlers" there was a screen on top. Of course we fell for it and looked in. It was of course Baby Rattlers - the toy. LOL

Then we came to a outhouse and I went to peek in and point it out to my son. A voice from inside said come on in mam there is room for one more, a two holer! LOL

One of my bygone recollections, as I recall the days of yore is the little house, behind the house, with the crescent o'er the door.

'Twas a place to sit and ponder with your head bowed down so low, knowing that you wouldn't be there, if you didn't have to go.

Ours was a three-holer, with a size for every one. You left there feeling better after the job was done.

You had to make these frequent trips, whether snow, rain, sleet, or fog, to the little house where you sat and read the Sears Roebuck catalog.

Oft times in dead of winter the seat was covered with snow. 'Twas then with much reluctance to the little house you'd go.

With a swish you'd clear the seat, bend low and, with shivers in mind, you'd blink your eyes and grit your teeth as you sat on your behind.

I recall the day that Granddad, who stayed with us one summer, made a trip to the shanty which proved to be a hummer.

'Twas the same day my Dad finished painting the kitchen green. He'd just cleaned up the mess he'd made with rags and gasoline.

He tossed the rags in the shanty hole and went on his usual way, not knowing that by doing so he would eventually rue the day.

Now Granddad had an urgent call; I never will forget! This trip he made to the little house lingers in my memory yet.

He sat down on the shanty seat, with both feet on the floor, then filled his pipe with tobacco and struck a match on the outhouse door.

As he took a long puff on his pipe, he slowly raised his behind, tossed the flaming match in the open hole, with not a worry on his mind.

The blast that followed, I am sure was heard for miles around; and there was poor ol' Granddad just sitting on the ground.

The smoldering pipe was still in his mouth, his suspenders he held tight; the celebrated three-holer was blown clear out of sight.

When we asked him what had happened, his answer I'll never forget. He thought it must of been something he had et!

Next day we had a new one which my Dad built with ease. With a sign on the entrance door which read: No Smoking, Please!

Now that's the end of the story, with memories of long ago, of the little house, behind the house where we went cause we had to go.

Hehehehehehe,

Come Fix The OUTHOUSE, PAW

Ma was in the kitchen fiddling around when she hollers out...."Pa! You need to go out and fix the outhouse!"

Pa replies, "There ain't nuthin wrong with the outhouse."

Ma yells back, "Yes there is, now git out there and fix it."

So......Pa mosies out to the outhouse, looks around and yells back, "Ma! There ain't nuthin wrong with the outhouse!

"Ma replies, "Stick yur head in the hole!"

Pa yells back, "I ain't stickin my head in that hole!"

Ma says, "Ya have to stick yur head in the hole to see what to fix."

So with that, Pa sticks his head in the hole, looks around and yells back, "Ma! There ain't nuthin wrong with this outhouse!"

Ma hollers back, "Now take your head out of the hole!"

Pa proceeds to pull his head out of the hole, then starts yelling, "Ma! Help! My beard is stuck in the cracks in the toilet seat!"

To which Ma replies, "Hurt's, don't it ?!"

How about a Gift book to read?

Or an ornament?

The Outhouse Gift Shop

A WIDE RANGE OF OUTHOUSE BOOKS

Outhouse Ornaments

You will find Santa and all these gifts at

:The Outhouse Gift Shop

Well I am done this gives you all that I know about outhouses.

I hope you enjoyed your trip down memory lane here.

If you missed the first two pages. The Back button will take you to number 2 and the next to number 1.

I have the background on a wallpaper border and the Little red roof outhouse in a stationery pad I brought years ago. The little graphic above the two holer was in that stationery pad also.