A co-worker was telling me about his Pedo-meter this morning.
I misunderstood.
Turns out it keeps track of your steps throughout the day and not the child molesters you encounter.
Saturday, April 30, 2022
The Prime Directive
I violated the prime directive today: I got behind an old person in the McDonald’s drive-thru. The line was shorter, but I should have known trouble was on the way when I noticed her car door open and she was gesticulating with her hands to describe into the speaker what she wanted. Eh, what’s an extra couple of minutes?
None Shall Pass
The message I saw on a fence as I drove past someone’s yard yesterday:
“No Trespassing Beyond This Point”
So it would seem to me the owner is comfortable with a certain amount of trespassing.
Same Word Different Spin
Clubbing:
Lots of fun when you're in your 20s...
Not so much if you're a baby seal.
Does History Repeat?
I remember when I was a kid we’d always hear about “so and so” had a baby and it’s “head popped off.” Is this still a thing or does it not happen so much anymore?
Big Eraser
The Leftist-Revisionist History narrative has made it all the way down to the local, top-of-the-hour radio newscast on 610 WTVN:
Did you know, “Tomorrow marks the 20th Anniversary of the day that ‘planes’ took down the towers at the World Trade Center”?
Planes?
Did they fly themselves?
Did the planes have an agenda?
No.
The planes were high jacked and crashed by Islamo-Nazi terrorists.
Why fail to mention that?
Have we forgotten?
Some have.
They want you to forget as well.
Disclaimer
In a follow up to last year’s question: Whose mom ever told them during a heated discussion that they’d break their arm off and hit them over the head with it?
In most cases, this is just a figure of speech.
She Never Suspected A Thing
I have simultaneously had an
ill legitimate child and a
healthy legitimate child living in the same house.
The wife never batted an eye.
Consult Your Physician
BD Baker is not for everyone: Consult your Pharmacist before taking BD Baker for possible dangerous interactions with other medications. Possible side effects of prolonged exposure include, but are not limited to, increased irritability, elevated blood pressure, loss of bowels and bladder, stroke, paralysis and, in rare cases, even tears of joy and uncontrolled laughter.
Thank You Very Much, Mr. Roboto
We got a Roomba vacuuming robot this Christmas. Apparently, one has to name the automated crumb catcher, in order for it to function properly, why... I don’t fully understand, but Sue was soliciting my advice on what to name the little rascal so I chimed in.
My first choice was ‘Robut’ like the name for the B-9 Robot on ‘Lost In Space.’ I liked it when Will Robinson would innocently call Dr. Smith’s favorite Cantankerous Cold-hearted Clump simply ‘Robut.’ Nope. Too boring. No one would get it.
How about ‘Rosie,’ like the cleaning maid robot on ‘The Jetsons’? To which Sue replied, “Why does it even need to have a woman’s name? You’re just feeding into the stereotype that only women do that sort of work.”
I knew right then that offering up the name of another television housekeeper/maid wasn’t a good idea, so I quietly kept ‘Catalina’ from ‘My Name Is Earl’ to myself. I did make the mistake of saying, “Oh... you’re not one of them, are you?” And then she said some other words followed by, “Why can’t we give it a man’s name?”
Good point, but the only men’s names that came to mind were Mr. French and Mr. Belvedere and I had never seen a single episode of ‘Mr. Belvedere’ so that one didn’t really resonate with me.
“Why can’t we name it ‘Mr. Clean’? she says.
Fair enough. He’s a good cleaner, but far less single-mindedly focused and robotic than our new mechanized Hazel. I sort of conceded with, “Yeah, that’s a good one,” without fully letting go of the possibility of giving it a prettier name.
She then circled back to “Why does it have to have a girl’s name?”
This next part right here is why I need to learn to be quiet and stop being obsessed with being the funniest guy in the room, which I usually am anyway... so I’ve been told, but I digress.
So I say, “Well, if it doesn’t have a girl’s name it is not going to be able to make us a sammich.”
At the very moment those words left my mouth, I could actually hear the laugh track echoing in my head, but nothing of the sort was coming out of Sue.
Weird.
So far, Mr. Clean has memorized the layout our entire first floor and is doing a bang up job.
Nightmare Of All Nightmares
I had the nightmare of nightmares for all who have ever performed in community theater: I dreamt I was in a show but didn't realize I was in a show, hadn't even picked up the script... until we're about to go on stage.
I didn't even know what the show was so I couldn't even begin to fake it. But, just like those dreams where you think you're falling to your death, I woke up just before they raised the curtain.
I hate those dreams.
I also hate the one where I'm still on the radio and can't find anything to play after my record ends. I can't find any carts, stray 45s, anything else, in the studio to play that is long enough to allow me to trek to the music library to find another record to play. An absolute feeling of dread. Both of those are high pressure horror stories. -B
That’s How Old Men Get Hurt
So I was outside raking the snow off the roof. On the front of the house there were some pretty big icicles hanging down. As I stood on the ground, I tapped them from the back with my telescoping snow rake so they wouldn’t fall against the house and, wouldn’t you know, on the very first one I knocked down, a chunk came hurtling right at my gourd. Luckily, I had turned away, knowing some of the smaller pieces might hit me. One did. It wasn’t all that small. It felt like a rock. It hurt like a son of a buck. I said a bad word... or two. I rubbed my head - in the back near the top. I finished knocking the rest down and came in the house.
I tell Sue. She asked if I had a lump. Heretofore, I had only been feeling my sore spot through my hat. It turns out I had two sore spots: an all encompassing sore spot and then the sore spot with the lump.
I felt my head for the first time without my hat on and found my goose egg. I said, “Yeah, I’ve got a lump.” And as I brought my hand down she said, “You’re bleeding!” Well, whaddyaknow? I was.
She then tells me that the activity I was engaged in it exactly how old men get hurt. Sure is a good thing there weren’t any old men out there with me.
Ironically, I think I’ll put some ice on my head and go sit by the fire.
Valentines Day 2020
A special poem for a special day.
I need to go into the greeting card business.
VALENTINES DAY 2020
And so another year
Begins in this way
In the second month
On the fourteenth day
A day for young hopefuls
To broadcast their cards
While tactfully skipping
The whole psycho ward
A day for sad sacks
To mope and to whine
About that ‘someone’
They’ll never find
A day resplendent
With pink and red art
And invisible arrows
Piercing young hearts
A day for fancy dinners
Chocolates and bubbly
And other activities
That involve getting cuddly
A day for sweethearts
To reminisce
And entice the one
They like to kiss
A day to look back
And to say ‘well done’
I’m grateful to have you
Cause you’re still the one
So considering all this
And all these words that you’ve read
And the brilliant mosaic
They’ve placed in your head
Would you do me the honor
Just one more time
And be my forever
Valentine?
Stop Wasting Time
When you waste time on facebook, you recoil from the real world and talk too much about yourself. When you recoil from the real world and talk too much about yourself, people may begin to roll their eyes and think you're a loser. When people begin to roll their eyes and think you're a loser, they stop reading all the clever things you've said and "unfriend" you. When people stop reading all the clever things you've said and "unfriend" you, your feelings get hurt. When your feelings get hurt, you stop bathing and going to work. When you stop bathing and going to work, you can't pay your bills. When you can't pay your bills, you become homeless and destitute. DON'T become homeless and destitute. Stop wasting time on facebook.
“The World’s Best Husband” by Susan
I have the best husband in the world.
He is funny.
Not that kind of funny, but the "He Makes Me Laugh Out Loud" kind of funny.
He is gentle and kind.
He whispers both to the dog and feline.
He is a friend of the woodland creatures.
Sometimes it's like he can read my mind.
He is a man among men who is not taken to strong drink.
He has his opinions and, I must say, he is almost always usually right.
He make me wonder how I ever got so lucky to marry such an extraordinary man.
He does things for me I cannot do myself and thinks of things that would never cross my mind...
like writing this post.
But I would have...
If he hadn't beaten me to it.
Earth Day Tips
Earth Day is just a couple of days away. Here are some ideas, tips if you will, that you can use to celebrate the momentous occasion:
Write a multiple page letter on virgin paper to an old friend and send it in an envelope. Everyone likes to have their day brightened by getting mail.
Burn a log or two in your fireplace. . . April has been way too cold lately
Drive across country in you car to visit your parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, high school chums or casual acquaintances.
If your yard isn’t covered with snow, spread some weed killer. It’s best to nip those dandelions in the bud.
Change the oil in your vehicle. It’s the most important thing to do to promote engine longevity.
Take the kids on a snipe hunt. They’ll love the adventure and you’ll enjoy the entertainment.
Go on a vacation. In Europe. . . or Hawaii. You should probably fly. Time is of the essence.
Grill out in your backyard. Have a steak. The taste of animal meat fresh from the grill just can’t be beat. I like mine medium rare.
Have a bonfire. Roast a few weenies and make some S’mores. To make things exciting, throw in a couple of those old scrap tires you still have laying around. Black goes with everything; especially smoke contrasted against the beautiful spring colors.
Set off those leftover fireworks. Why should The Fourth of July get all the fun? Aim a few at those pesky but lovable geese that crap on everything and won’t leave your yard. Sure it’s exciting. They’ll enjoy it almost as much as you will. Almost.
Find a still standing tree (dead or alive - you decide), and make a nice chainsaw carving. Bald Eagles and totem poles are always popular. Unicorns? not so much. My choice is Smokey Bear.
Stay tuned for more celebratory ideas.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)