1. “Why are you always doing that? Who are you?”
2. “I’ll need to see some form of identification before you can stick anything in my box.”
3. “Did you know your steering wheel is on the wrong side? I think you should take the truck back and get a refund.”
4. “Are you here about the free oil change? Just pull around back and we’ll get you lubed right up.”
5. “I’m lonely and I have dark thoughts. Will you be my friend?”
6. “Thank GOD you made it. I’ll show you where the backed-up toilet is. It’s kind of a gusher, so I hope your brought your own boots. Mine floated away an hour ago. Speaking of, I haven’t seen Grandma in a while, either.”
7. “I told you not to come back here. Now I’m gonna have to notify the Elders of the Corn and they are not going to be happy. I hope you already got your crops in for this season because it’s about to get Old-Testament vindictive up in here.”
8. “Thank you for patronizing Brenda’s Drive-Thru Sperm Bank. We aim to please and we hope you do, too. In this cup right here. Do you need any magazines to help you out?”
9. “The trees talk to me. Well, one of them does. The others are just shy.”
10. “You realize that one of these times there will be a snake in this mailbox. It’s a mathematical inevitability. And the Pentecostals in my family are always misplacing things.”
11. “It’s about time you finally made it back to my table. My water glass has been empty for the last twenty-four hours.”
12. “Why do you keep leaving me? What am I doing wrong? Tell me how to fix myself!”
13. “Would you happen to know where I can get my hands on some goat blood in the next thirty minutes?”
14. “Please, mister, please. Don’t play B-17.”
15. “I’m double-jointed!”
16. “Do you think Mama Cass really choked on that sandwich?”
17. “I actually DO know the way to San Jose. But it will cost you.”
18. “Are you my daddy?”
19. “Peace. Tranquility. Insanity.”
20. “Do you taste like chicken?”
21. “If that’s a bill, nobody in this house has any money so there’s no point in leaving it.”
22. “The proper etiquette when approaching the throne is to bow deeply and give up all remnants of your self-esteem. That’s just how we do it in the Trump Administration. Oh, and be prepared to lie a lot.”
23. “Studies have shown that most accidents in the home occur when men who don’t live in that home stomp their ignorant ass across carefully-cultivated begonias whilst approaching a small metal box and the matriarch of said home takes note of the vile indiscretion.”
24. “What have you done with my fan mail? Why are you hiding it from me?”
25. “If you’re here to sell us a vacuum cleaner, Mom said you can suck it. And she needs another beer.”
Previously published in “The Sound and the Fury” and “Bonnywood Manor”. Slight changes made for this post.
Story behind the photo: The outer portal of my mailbox. It’s built into the wall of our 1950s house. There’s a little door on the inside we can pop open in order to retrieve the daily treasures. It sounds quaint, but the reality is that the whole contraption was built for old-school, postcard-size mail. Behemoth, modern-day correspondence, like catalogs and legal-size court orders, do not slip easily into said conduit. There’s nothing like being wrenched from a deep sleep at 6AM because the begonia-destroying postman is trying to shove a Pottery Barn compendium into a toaster slot…
Side note to the various folks who commented on the last incarnation of this post: Several of you offered up some wonderful ideas to include in the next edition, and I really did mean to do that. But I had a lot of roughage with dinner tonight, and I’m not entirely focused. Please forgive…
Categories: Humor
Bonnywood Manor 
Great picture! So have you tried saying any of these things to your postie?!
LikeLiked by 2 people
My first thought too. Haha, twisted minds think alike 😂😂
LikeLiked by 2 people
My postie is usually so invested in whatever he’s listening to on his headphones that actual conversation is beneath him… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL!! I don’t know whether to be envious of or feel sorry for your postman! :O) xx
LikeLiked by 3 people
Haha!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Considering how well postal workers are usually paid, I’m sure he’s doing just fine either way… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Re 2;.I have been a postal delivery operative,and any comment from the recipient approaching the non delivery of bills for WHATEVER reason resulted in a weeks worth of mail being folded spindled and mutilated- at the least. At the worst, your letter from great aunt Maude would be transformed into confetti. Ah, those sweet happy days, before I went postal…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I almost became an operative, back in the day, but I didn’t score quite high enough on the test. Imagine that…
LikeLike
Great list! Lol!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
My favourites are 9 and 25. So bring me a beer.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Check your mailbox… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha…… This is freaking hilarious….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you enjoyed it!
LikeLike
love your list!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Beth!
LikeLiked by 1 person
These are all awesome, and some of them would have fit right in at my ill-fated lingerie party;-) We don’t have a postman anymore–we all just have boxes in a parking lot. I miss the old days, seeing the mailman coming to the house with a package (as the actress said to the bishop, haha!)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, that reminds me, I might have to do a separate list for UPS and FedEx delivery folks, with their “hurl the package in the general direction of the porch and run” mentality. I’ll see what I can do…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Can’t wait😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
sounds like fun
as long as no
one goes postal!
i wonder, though
if i’d start getting
unspeakable things
in the mail 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I already get unspeakable things in my mailbox, but it’s usually because I’ve ordered them… 😉
LikeLike
Oh dear. Now “Please Mister Please, Don’t Play B-17” is going through my head and will do so for the rest of the day. Speaking of which, did anyone ever cover that song, or is it Olivia’s alone?
LikeLiked by 1 person
According to Wikipedia, the song was originally released by someone else but did not chart, and has since been covered by a number of other folks, none of whom I’ve ever heard of, so, basically, it’s hers…. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hahaha. 😀 Clever!
A couple more for your collection:
– Would you like my gum? It’s only been chewed once.
– Thank God you’re here. I don’t think I can go another day with these toenails.
LikeLiked by 2 people
The first one is good, but I love that second one. Because I’m twisted that way… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Re: #2: Squinty-eyed with suspicion, I must ask, “Were you listening when I said this?”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Maybe. I cannot reveal my sources for legal reasons…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will remember to say it to the post man next time 😂😂😂🤪
LikeLiked by 1 person
Have fun with it!… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will, the only problem is catching them at the mailbox. They are so quiet that I find it out later that the mail has already been delivered. 😜🤣😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
BWAHAHAHAHHAAA!! I really REALLY want one of those ‘in house’ mailboxes. Alas I’m doomed to be a part of the ‘community box’ wherein a fairly sizable little compartment is ‘mine’. Along with 25 others, plus a ‘big package’ one that’s reserved for those with Pottery Barn compendiums which don’t fit in ANY size box, save the jumbotron one like our package box. Now being a part of the enclave/collective has it’s problems. A. You have to go out to get your mail, and on days when getting dressed isn’t part of the plan, well I just leave whatever shite I’ve gotten in the box. B. You often get the wrong mail, because whatever dweeb who needs glasses badly is delivering today can’t read. Having graduated from the Utah School System which makes learning things like reading or understand what numbers MEAN, a thing not important. More important is going deer hunting, learning to be a GOOD wife, and what it means to go on a mission. Yeah, every mail box has its thorns…. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, I remember the “community boxes” from my apartment-living days. The most annoying aspect for me was the “lurkers”, who would hang around the boxes and then latch onto anyone who would look their direction. I am not a social person, and the last thing I need is Gladys from 203 rushing up to tell me everything about her entire life. I don’t want that. I just want to retrieve my bills and return to the security of the Fortress of Solitude. I often waited until midnight or so just to avoid all that mess. Of course, at THAT time you have an entirely different box crowd, one that could potentially lead to a date on Saturday night, so there’s that… 😉
LikeLike
BWAHAHAHAHHAAA!! I really REALLY want one of those ‘in house’ mailboxes. Alas I’m doomed to be a part of the ‘community box’ wherein a fairly sizable little compartment is ‘mine’. Along with 25 others, plus a ‘big package’ one that’s reserved for those with Pottery Barn compendiums which don’t fit in ANY size box, save the jumbotron one like our package box. Now being a part of the enclave/collective has it’s problems. A. You have to go out to get your mail, and on days when getting dressed isn’t part of the plan, well I just leave whatever shite I’ve gotten in the box. B. You often get the wrong mail, because whatever dweeb who needs glasses badly is delivering today can’t read. Having graduated from the Utah School System which makes learning things like reading or understand what numbers MEAN, a thing not important. More important is going deer hunting, learning to be a GOOD wife, and what it means to go on a mission. Yeah, every mail box has its thorns…. 😉
LikeLike
Wait — did Mama Cass really choke on a sandwich? How did I miss that from the last time this aired? Augh!
As to your excuse of excessive roughage? My God, man. You’re a bloomin’ blogging wizard. 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, I believe the “official” cause of death with Mama is that her heart simply gave out, the result of dramatic weight fluctuations and, well, all those drugs. But I wasn’t actually there, so I can’t legally sign any affidavits…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Had me smiling here, good one. I specially like the one, where is my fan mail? You are hiding it? I should use that one every time they come to give me a card from the State saying I have to pay this or that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of course, the sad part of all of this is that I apparently have the free time to sit around and think of these things. And so it goes… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love it!
I feel like you could build an automatic sorter into the little shaft, so court orders and anything with Trump’s name on it end up someqhere entirely different.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, the mystical sorter sounds like a great idea. And we could have Cleo the Cat be responsible for the mechanism, ensuring that it works in the most soul-satisfying manner. She needs to do more around here to earn her keep, so this would be a great start…
LikeLike