The Mantle Puns

It’s a hell of an ice breaker

I told him she was decorating for Halloween, and they both just gave me a flat look. Then with a grin on my face I simply said bamBOO!! Much to my wife’s dismay my 6 year old has been repeating it for the last 20 minutes.

Son: maybe it's so he could be a frank in stein? Me: Dammit Frank!

The only thing I managed to shoot was a feral cat. Great shot though, tore the thing in half and the front half was nowhere to be seen. Filled with pride, I picked up the feline's hind quarters and thought I'd have a go at taxidermy to make a plaque for above the mantle. What a catastrophe.

Now he's passed the mantle on to me.

"I never know what to put on the fireplace mantle."

"You should put a bunch of Disney figurines on it, with the mouse in the middle... it can be the Mickey Mantle."

"I ... need to go vomit."

A Christmas Poem
by Dad (1952–2009)

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the shack,
Not a creature was stirring, we was all in the sack;

Our mugs were placed on the mantle with cheer,
In hope that Saint Nick would bring us a beer;

And me I was tucked up all snug in my bed,
But strains of sweet music still danced through my head;

So I sprang from my bed with a crash and a clatter,
And off down the hall with bare feet did I patter;

There on the chair sat my musical pipe,
So I sat down to play without fanfare or hype;

Come Mozart, come Hayden, Stravinski and Strauss,
And write me some music to bring down the house;

When down from the chimney appeared with a crash,
A strange little man in the smoke and the ash;

He wiggled and jumped and got up like a shot,
Came over and said, "Man those cinders are hot!";

His stomach it shook like a bowl full of jelly,
For a moment I thought it was dear old aunt Nelly;

His nose like a cherry, his ears like two jugs,
I was worried that this guy just might be on drugs;

His language was foul, his jokes they were crass,
So I opened the door and threw him out on his ass;

But then as I turned, boy was I ever surprised;
I saw what he'd bought me, or so I surmised;

For there in the corner right under the tree,
Was some brand new sheet music and a case of O.V.;

I turned to say thank-you but found he had gone,
He was not in the garden and not on the lawn;

And just when I thought that he couldn't get far,
I realized the old goat had stolen the car;

Off in the distance he said with a wheeze,
"I hated to do it but you left me the keys!";

I smiled and laughed for this much I could savour,
For I'd just sold the car to my idiot neighbour;

And once more he called as he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and don't drive when you're tight!"

Thank you for everything, Dad. We love and miss you.

There used to be two great punners. We were the best at what we did. And what we did was pun. There was me, a simple lad from a tiny backwater town and then there was him. A swarthy fellow from the land of the Armada, the Inquisition and the Conquistadors. A Spaniard he was, by both birth and spirit. We duelled relentlessly, always gaining ground only to see it slip away, a pun-of-war as it were. A seemingly eternal struggle for dominion. This endless struggle took its toll on both him and I, until I realized that it was time to stop. I chose to cede the mantle to him. And I will never go back to that life.

And so...

There will only be Juan.