Working Daze by John Zakour and Scott Roberts for August 17, 2021

Hey, Ed, it’s nothing to lose your head over.

“How to get ahead in business.”

Dana looks like she’s ready to kick his head like a soccer ball.

“And how are you talking with no lungs?” would be the next question.

I love it when Dana uses her fellow workers for her feet. like for her insoles in a past strip. how about using Ed’s head for a foot massager roller.

I can’t help thinking that Rita is behind this somehow.

Ed’s body of work seems to be… lacking.

Ed is running around like a head with its chicken cut off.

Now that’s creepy, but the most creative excuse, “Uh, Dana, I lost my body somewhere, can’t get the monthly report done now.”

Ed’s head just slipped out of his cousin’s Harry cloak that he borrowed..

Must be a really creative excuse!

A man was waiting for his wife to give birth when the doctor came in and informed the new dad that his son was born without a torso, arms, or legs. The son had only a head! But the dad loved his son anyway, and raised him as well as he could, with love and compassion.

After 21 years, the son was old enough for his first drink. Dad took him to the bar and tearfully told the son he was proud of him. Then Dad ordered up the biggest, strongest drink for his boy. With all the bar patrons looking on curiously, and the bartender shaking his head in disbelief, the boy took his first sip of alcohol. Swoooop! A torso popped out of the bottom of the son’s head!

The bar was deadly silent; then burst into a whoop of joy. The father, shocked, begged his son to drink again. The patrons began chanting, “Take another drink!” The bartender stood still, shaking his head in amazement. Swoooop! Two arms popped out. The bar went wild.

The father, crying and wailing, cried for his son to drink again. The patrons continued their chant: “Take another drink!” But the bartender turned his back at this point, ignoring the whole affair. By now the boy was getting tipsy, but with his new hands he reached down, grabbed his drink, and guzzled the last of it. Swoooop! Two legs popped out. By now the bar was in chaos, with the father on his knees, thanking God.

The boy stood up on his new legs and stumbled to the left, then to the right, then right through the front door, and into the street, where a truck ran smack into him, killing him instantly. The bar fell silent. The father began to softly moan in grief. The bartender picked up the boy’s empty glass, and began to clean it, muttering, “That boy should have quit while he was a head.”

(M)Orpheus understands your predicament.