Tell Me a Story Podcast

It’s not a dog, if it can fit inside another dog’s mouth!

It’s not a dog, if it can be accidentally vacuumed up.

It’s not a dog, if it can be killed by a cat.

It’s not a dog, if it can be carried off by a medium-sized pigeon.

It’s not a dog, if it can be out-wrestled by a rat.

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When I walked into our living room, I discovered that our expensive paisley sofa pillow was in shreds.

I asked our teenage son whether he knew which of our cats was responsible.

"It was Sammy," he replied.

"How do you know?" I asked in return.

"I watched him," he said.

And that was enough.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe

In the beginning, West Point: A Novel shadows new Cadet John Paul (Jake) Jacobs on his first day of Beast Barracks. Educational perhaps to the reader, but a mind-stunning indoctrination for those that have been chosen to be a cadet at the United States Military Academy at West Point. The following excerpt is a precursor of the adventure to unfold.

"What the hell is this, Lamont?" the table commandant said, staring at the apple pie in disbelief. "Eyes up here. All you, smacks, look at this!"

The new cadets reluctantly looked to the head of the table as the old cadet held the pie at an angle for them to see. There may have been ten pieces. But then again, there might have been more, or less. One piece was the size of a full third and others were cut so thin they would not make for a single bite. "I'm not believing this, Lamont! This is pitiful! Fix it!"

The pie was shuffled back down the table toward Lamont, handled by the new cadets along the way as though it were a live grenade. Everyone at the table had the same thought. How does one recut an already cut pie? The question was terrifying because it was apparent that the table commandant fully expected the pie to be fixed. The beads of sweat were no longer confined to the back of Lamont's neck. The pressure. His face suddenly glistened as though he had just walked in from a heavy rain.

"Well, fix it, Lamont!" the demon-possessed old cadet shouted.

Following two or three minutes of silence at the table with all three upperclassmen staring at Lamont, as he in turn, helplessly stared at the pie in front of him while praying for a miracle, Cantrell said, "Mister Jacobs!"

"Yes, sir!" Jake replied, wondering what this God-awful dilemma had to do with him.

"Since you claim to be the most handsome among your classmates, and since you are from Texas, I'm sure you'll have no problem helping your classmate. Take the pie from Mister Lamont. You fix it!"

Jake hesitated. Lamont's fear was contagious. After a moment, he took the pie and placed it next to his plate as ordered. A reasonable solution to the problem seemed to escape him because of the distracting thought of wanting to reach out with both hands and strangle Lamont.

"Well, Jacobs," Cantrell said. "We're waiting. Surely a Texan can do something as simple as fix a broken pie."

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jake picked up his spoon, and viciously attacked the pie. He decimated it into a thousand tiny pieces and vented his anger at Cantrell's flippant insults toward the State of Texas. As he slashed at the pie with wild swings, bits and pieces took to the air and splattered both Patrick and Lamont.

In less than ten seconds, Jake dropped the spoon with a loud clatter, picked up the pie in both hands, and announced in a military manner, "Sir! Apple cobbler to the head of the table for inspection, please sir!"

Silence followed for a full minute. All three of the upperclassmen sat stunned, mouths slightly open, eyes staring at Jake in disbelief as he sat with the recently acquired cobbler extended in front of him.

Upperclassmen at adjacent tables had heard the pie problem as it developed and its solution. They now came over to the table with the same unbelieving stare. In that silent minute, the table was surrounded by upperclassmen who came to get a closer look at the bold before June plebe and to see how Cadet Captain Jonathan Scott, the company commander of the 7th New Cadet Company, was going to handle the situation. Or, possibly, to try to prevent the murder of a new cadet in front of so many witnesses.

Without moving the pie, or his eyes, Jake was very much aware of the mob gathering. A single bead of sweat slowly rolled down his back, an excruciating sensation adding misery to an already hopeless situation.

Find out more about this wonderful novel here: https://jmpattonauthor.com.

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I have two minutes in my pocket to spare.If you have need of them for me to share.

They have no rhythm, but they do have rhymeThese two minutes of universal time.

I have them to spareIf you need me to share.

Just say God Bless You to someone nearby.The minutes will be yours to try.

Don’t worry about exhausting this supply.The minutes replenish on the fly!

I have two minutes in my pocket to spare.If you have need of them for me to share.

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Here’s a little M&M’s humor to lighten your day.

I just dumped a pack of M&M’s into my mask at work and am slowly eating them like a horse. I love the pandemic!

More M&M’s humor. Which is your favorite joke?

Q. How can you tell that a Swede has been baking chocolate chip cookies? A. There are M&M shells all over the counter.

Q. Why do Americans hate M&M’s? A. They’re too hard to peel.

M&M’s are cheaper than therapy. And you don’t need an appointment!

In Heaven, M&M’s have no calories and are served as the main course.

My therapist told me the way to achieve inner peace is to finish what I start. So far today, I’ve finished two bags of M&M’s and a chocolate cake. I feel better already.

Yo momma is so stupid. She tried to put M&M’s in alphabetical order.

The only thing better than a friend is a friend with a bag of M&M’s she wants to share.

What is the meaning of life? All evidence to date suggest it’s M&M’s.

Save this planet! It’s the only one with M&M’s.

M&M’s are made from cocoa, which is a tree. A tree is a plant. That makes M&M’s a salad!

I’d give up M&M’s, but I’m not a quitter.

Which of the above jokes did you like best? Do you have a favorite? Is there one that had you rolling in the aisles?

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Earlier this year, police were called to the scene of a dispute between a woman and a man who was selling a secret formula elixir that he claimed gave eternal youth. As a result of the dispute, the man was arrested.

It was the sixth time he'd been arrested for promoting a medical fraud.

The fact is the man had previously been arrested in 1789, 1842, 1885, 1923, and 1986.

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If you love something, set it free.

If it comes back, it was, and always will be, yours.

If it never returns, it was never yours to begin with.

If it just sits in your living room,messes up your stuff,eats your food,uses your telephone,takes your money,and never behaves as if you actually set it free in the first place,you either married it or gave birth to it!

— Anonymous on the Internet

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“What time is it, Grandfather? Nap time? Play time?” teased the little boy.

“I will give you an answer that you won’t understand, but maybe you’ll remember,” the old man said as he pulled the little boy onto his lap.

“All right,” said the boy.

“When I was your age, time stretched out before me—it was forever. There was time for everything. But I couldn’t wait to grow up. Then, when I grew up, time was never enough for all I had to do. And it fell away and disappeared. I was always running. Now, I am an old man, and time is short. It stretches out behind me. I can’t run any more. But finally I know, I really do know. Time is forever.”

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Never doubt what one prayer can do.

Say your prayer today.

Even just one prayer can change your lifeor the life of your loved onesor the life of a stranger.

Or the life of the world.

Your choice.

Your prayer.

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The Invention

We wish, all of us, to exceed our own inventionsto create and then to go beyond that creation,to enter into it and make it live,breathing life into the lifeless,stirring the immovable.

We fail, but we continue.

We invent machine after machine,each exceeding the next,becoming more refined,more capable,more effective.

And still we build, paint dance sing writeagain and again,ever aiming to excel.

The direction is obvious:We wish to build the perfect machine.

We are aiming for ourselves.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit tellmeastory.substack.com/subscribe