A Serious Threat...

To your ability to keep a straight face.
Do not read while trying to maintain an important conversation.

This is an update on that rascal from Michelin.
It's an original piece by Jim, the best Brother-In-Law I've ever had.

Thanks Patty, ya done good!

That Michelin Rascal!
The True Story

I spoke with my Attorney friend, I.M. Scum, and found out something interesting about the Michelin Man.
This isn’t the first time he’s been in trouble.

In 1988, a pregnancy outside of his marriage caused great turmoil between he and his wife resulting in divorce. His wife was not naive and was slick and tired of his rolling in the hay with any woman who would give him the time of day. She could not believe any woman would sleep with him. He was getting over inflated, needing a steel belt to keep his pants from falling down. And he was balding. Those beady little eyes didn’t help, either.

When she was informed of his adulterous affair, there was a huge blow out.
“All his problems stem from a loss of control”, she said.
He claimed her love was cold and she drove him to seek pleasures, elsewhere. He tried to patch things up with her, but between her and her Attorney, they kept the pressure on him to dissolve the marriage. He wrote her raised white letters, but she never responded to him. He needed some way to turn the situation around, yet all attempts left him flat.

For the sake of their daughter Rubberta, who is mentally retreaded, he wanted nothing more than to save the marriage. Finally, figuring the situation might get better down the road, he agreed to the divorce. During the paternity suit, his good name was dragged through the mud. He tried to bring the humiliation to a screeching halt by settling out of court. No agreement could be reached.

Feeling burned out, he settled in for a long trial. The plaintiff described how she met him in a bar. He asked her how much a rim job would cost. She was a little skiddish of him; he wasn’t leaving her with a good impression. He kept plugging away at her over the course of the evening until she finally agreed to leave with him. They went back to her apartment. He could smell fresh paint. He commented on how nice her white walls looked. She asked if he had brought any protection.
“I have a rubber in my wallet”, he said.
“Tread lightly” she said, “The floor and walls are so thin, the neighbors hear everything.”
She rotated and led him into her bedroom. Before the evening was over,he had mounted her several times.
“That’s how the tire swings, baby,” he boasted.

Several hours later, as he was leaving to go home, he lost his balance and fell suffering a puncture wound to his head, briefly passing out. A passer-by pushed the small crowd back yelling, “Give the man some air!” Before fully recovering from his mishap, one witness said he took a leak, right there in the street.

He tried to spin a good story to tell his wife. The young lady he had spent the night with, squealed on him over the phone. His wife was so furious with him, she bought him a one way ticket on the next hydroplane to France.
“Go back where you came from, you bum!”
It's hard to gauge how he must have felt.

Needless to say, he returned to the US to face the charges. Are all Frenchmen like this?


Well Jim, I think you've nailed this shady frog. He thinks he's such a studded fellow. And he spins a good tale. But I see indications of wear. He is going to find out that if he keeps treading on people like he's done, he will wind up on skid row when his wife tells him to hit the road! And his poor daughter will be singing, 'Papa Was A Rolling Stone'. I think he is going to cause his poor father to roll over in his grave.