busker

Green Card

OK. To all my pals who've been urging me for the sake of my un-renewed Green Card to go easy on the peddy-gogy and t'inking I taw a bella figure peddy-tat.

Great news!

My card is in, and very handsome it is, too.

Much more official looking than the sissy pink old one.

Note, too, that I'm now a Permanent  resident and not just a pathetic residentializing 'Alien'.

You wouldn't believe the snide chuckles that attracted, altho' in its defence I have to say that a pitying traffic cop was once so amused by the wording and my John Cleesian accent that he handed the card back with an:

"I always thought you guys were outta left field but I didn't know it was official.

OK, move on Mr Holmes, and remember that in this country we drive on the *left* hand side-"

"You mean the *right* side, officer?"

"What'd I just say? Heck, now you've got me at it ...."

Very weird reverse side: it has the 'Permanent Resident Card' titling, and then just a completely reflective surface, ideal for helio-graphing passing planes when stranded on that desert island.

Ideal for that blond joke I recently got rapped over the knuckles for circulating to my fiercer feminist pals:

Blond is pulled over by equally blond cop. Fumbles for licence, but has to ask what it looks like.

Is told its dimensions at which she pulls out a small vanity mirror and proffers it up.

Blond cop gives it a glance and hands it back, "Uh, ok, didn't realize you were a cop."