The Mensa club of Madison High.

"Astle, do you ever think you will be a member of Mensa?" My old high school chum Arthole was and still is a real funny guy. "Right now I am getting a mental image of your picture in the Madison News," he said, "The headline will say, 'Robert Astle, local moron, awarded Mensa membership.' Can you see it? I know I can!" Whenever I had trouble doing something simple, like changing a tire, Arthole would always give me a load of his sarcastic yapper. "Astle, I am going to call Mensa and tell them they have a candidate. That's if you can ever figure out how to change the tire."

It took a little longer than usual, but I managed to do it. Both of us hopped back into the car and then he said - "Astle, there should be a law outlawing people as dumb as you. A lot of times I wonder how you get up in the morning and tie your shoes. That's how bleeping stupid you are." He ran his mouth a few minutes longer and then I said, "Shut up for a minute! Something is not right. I don't think I got the tire on tight enough. I am going to pull over and check it out." I pull to the side of the road, get out of the car, walk to the back, open the trunk and pretend to grab the jack out of the back. "Goddamn boy," I hear him say from the passenger seat, "I knew I should have changed the tire myself instead of leaving it to an imbecile like you. After I take a piss I will do it." He then gets out of the car; takes about twenty steps to the side of the road, pulls out his Johnson and starts pissing. That was the break I was looking for:

"Arthole!" I yelled as I closed the trunk and jumped back into the driver's seat, "Go bleep yourself! Who's the Mensa member now?" I threw the car in reverse to put a little more distance between us. Before I could get it in second I hear a loud thump. I look out the windshield and he is straddled across the hood with his pants half down. "Astle, I am not falling for this trick again. Stop the car and let me in!" I thought about taking off anyways - but then I thought again. What if he fell off and killed himself? So I stopped the car to let him in. When he gets in I notice his pants are wet. "What the hell," I say to him. After the statement he looks at me and says, "I was in the middle of pissing when you were taking off. I didn't get to fully finish so this is what happened."

I begrudgingly accepted the fact a long time ago that I was never going to be a member of Mensa. That is how life go's most of the time. Before I end this post I must share another absolute certainty with everyone. My old high school chum Arthole...No Mensa membership for him either!