Michael Wilson's True Story Collection
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Lucky It Scared the Piss Out of You

It had been a nice flight in the small single engine plane. The three golfers where in route to a tournament in Ogden Utah, piloted by one of the trio, while the other two sipped on their soda pop and coffee respectively and traded stories about previous tournaments. When the pilot ponders aloud "What... the hell is wrong? "Hey, what's up?". Is there a problem?", the other two asked simultaneously. Sarcastically replying the pilot informs them. "No, nothing except the damn landing gear won't come down." Wishing he was joking but knowing that he wasn't, they watched as he tried again and again to maneuver the landing gear into position. He radioed to the control tower informing them about his situation. The controller suggested they check the hydraulic fluid level. It turned out to be empty, having leaked out during the flight. After a few nervous moments the control tower suggested they pour any liquid they had into the hydraulic fluid reservoir so...first they poured in the pot of coffee. It didn't work. They added the half can of pop. That still wasn't enough fluid. Then the three frightened golfers passed around a cup, for each to relive himself in. After adding the cups of urine, once again the pilot tried dropping the landing gear. The wheels unfolded down, locking into position. And the plane was able to make a safe landing.

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The Bad Luck Bed

In a hospital in South Africa there was a strange, mysterious occurrence. Every Friday morning the patient in a certain bed in the intensive care unit would be dead. No matter haw well the patient was doing, if they slept in that bed Thursday night, Friday morning they would be dead.
It took the police investigators quite some time before they were able to crack the case. Finally it was discovered that the night janitor had been unwittingly unplugging the patients respirator, to plug in his vacuum cleaner.

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Thank God for My Cellular Phone

As Michelle went into her back yard to weed her garden she made sure she had her cellular phone with her. Her little boy Michael climbed in the tree while she tended her gardening. Everything seemed fine until she heard Michael cry out "Mommie help me I can't come down." She looked up from her gardening at the little boy, almost at the top of the tree. she tried to coach him down by ordering him. "Michael, you get out of that tree right now!" But he didn't budge. "Mommie I'm scared." She scolded him as she began the climb to rescue him. After she finally reached the young boy, she looked down and became more frightened than her son. Unable to get down from the tree Michelle, reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and embarrassingly dialed 9-1-1.

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The Impatient Patient

When the phone rang on the third floor nurse's station. the calm voice on the other end said, " Good day, I'm calling to check on the status of one of your patients." "What is the name?" asked the helpful nurse. " his name is Mr. Herman Nudeson, room 317." "One moment please, I'll check." The nurse placed the caller on hold as she turned to her computer to access the condition of Mr. Herman Nudeson. She quickly returns with the good news. "Sir, Mr. Nudeson is doing just fine and will be going home tomorrow". And she asked "Are you family?" An emphatic "No!!" was his reply. "I am Mr. Nudeson in room 317, I couldn't get the doctors up here to tell me anything.

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Political Advice

It was election time and the local politician was heavily on the campaign trail. Today he was visiting one of the city's biggest nursing homes in hopes of obtaining some votes from the elderly. He walked though the halls greeting folks, shaking hands and small talking. When he came upon an man sitting alone staring at the wall emotionlessly. The gleeful politician approached the stoic old man, extending his hand for a handshake and proudly said "Well, hello there... do you know who I am?" slowly looking up at the smiling politician, he beckoned his head down the hallway and said "No... but if you go down there to the front desk, they can tell you.

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Copyright © 1997 Timothy M. Radonich