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So tonight was chess night with MJ, the first time she also invited me for dinner, saying she'd make me a lovely toasted bologna sandwich. I can't remember the last time I ate bologna, but you know, I said of course. But she's got a wily sense of humor and once I arrived she had a surprise dinner party arranged, serving lovely chicken salad with the real silver and cloth napkins. She also had her 83 year-old friend, Ferrie Futch, there. They were dressed to the nines in exotic Smithsonian catalog caftans and pearls. Ferrie, who uses a walking stick intricately carved from a piece of wisteria, had brought MJ a sack of welcome home gifts, one of which was a colorful sundress, which I was immediately asked to wear over my jeans for the rest of the night. Mean girls. We never got around to playing chess, but here is a sample of the jokes these two feisty 83 year-olds told:

Ferrie: These two 90 year-old fellas were sitting out on the porch one night having a sip when two 80 year-old women decided they felt like streaking, so chucked their clothes and streaked right down the street past the fellas. "What was that," asked one of the men. The other answered, "I don't know, but it sure needed ironing."

MJ: A cranky old man walks into the local diner and shouts at the Flo the waitress, "I want me a BLT-N-T." 
Flo says, "Well I know what a BLT is, but what's N-T stand for?" 
"Why it stands for No Toast, woman!"  
Flo serves his order, the old guy takes a bite and immediately shouts, "S-O-B!" 
"Well what in the world does S-O-B. mean?" 
"Soggy On the Bottom!"
Flo forces a tight smile. "S-H-I-T."
"What does that mean?"
"Shoulda Had It Toasted."