Renee Zellweger won!
[UPDATE: 10 for ROTK so far, will it take Best Picture?]
[UPDATE II: I had hardly gotten that last update posted when the news was in ... 11 Oscars for Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King -- congrats to Peter Jackson and the entire crew --- they finally got one for the last round.]
36 Ways Dogs are Better Than Men
- Dogs do not have problems expressing affection in public.
- Dogs miss you when you're gone.
- You never wonder whether your dog is good enough for you.
- Dogs feel guilt when they've done something wrong.
- Dogs don't criticize your friends.
- Dogs admit when they're jealous.
- Dogs are very direct about wanting to go out.
- Dogs do not play games with you -- except fetch (and they never laugh at how you throw).
- Dogs are happy with any video you choose to rent, because they know the most important thing is that you're together.
- Dogs don't feel threatened by your intelligence.
- No dog ever voted to confirm Clarence Thomas.
- You can train a dog.
- Dogs are easy to buy for.
- Dogs are good with kids.
- Dogs are already in touch with their inner puppies.
- You are never suspicious of your dog's dreams.
- Gorgeous dogs don't know they're gorgeous.
- The worst social disease you can get from dogs is fleas. (OK). The *really* worst disease you can get from them is rabies, but there's a vaccine for it, and you get to kill the one that gives it to you.)
- Dogs understand what 'no' means.
- Dogs don't need therapy to undo their bad socialization.
- Dogs don't make a practice of killing their own species.
- Dogs understand if some of their friends cannot come inside.
- Dogs do not read at the table.
- Dogs think you are a culinary genius.
- You can house train a dog.
- You can force a dog to take a bath.
- Dogs don't correct your stories.
- Middle-aged dogs don't feel the need to abandon you for a younger owner.
- Dogs aren't threatened by a woman with short hair.
- Dogs aren't threatened by two women with short hair.
- Dogs don't weigh down your purse with their stuff.
- Dogs look at your eyes.
- Dogs like your size.
- Dogs mean it when they kiss you.
- Dogs are nice to your relatives.
- Dogs obsess about you as much as you obsess about them.
48 Reasons Why Dogs are Better Than Women
- Dogs don't cry.
- Dogs love it when your friends come over.
- Dogs don't care if you use their shampoo.
- Dogs think you sing great.
- A dog's time in the bathroom is confined to a quick drink.
- Dogs don't expect you to call when you are running late.
- The later you are, the more excited dogs are to see you.
- Dogs will forgive you for playing with other dogs.
- Dogs don't notice if you call them by another dog's name.
- Dogs are excited by rough play.
- Dogs don't mind if you give their offspring away.
- Dogs understand that farts are funny.
- Dogs love red meat.
- Dogs can appreciate excessive body hair.
- Anyone can get a good-looking dog.
- If a dog is gorgeous, other dogs don't hate it.
- Dogs don't shop.
- Dogs like it when you leave lots of things on the floor.
- A dog's disposition stays the same all month long.
- Dogs never need to examine the relationship.
- A dog's parents never visit.
- Dogs love long car trips.
- Dogs understand that instincts are better than asking for directions.
- Dogs understand that all animals smaller than dogs were made to be hunted.
- When a dog gets old and starts to snap at you incessantly, you can shoot it.
- Dogs like beer.
- Dogs don't hate their bodies.
- No dog ever bought a Kenny G or Hootie & the Blowfish album.
- No dog ever put on 100 pounds after reaching adulthood.
- Dogs never criticize.
- Dogs agree that you have to raise your voice to get your point across.
- Dogs never expect gifts.
- It's legal to keep a dog chained up at your house.
- Dogs don't worry about germs.
- Dogs don't want to know about every other dog you ever had.
- Dogs like to do their snooping outside as opposed to in your wallet, desk, and the back of your sock drawer.
- Dogs don't let magazine articles guide their lives.
- Dogs would rather have you buy them a hamburger dinner than a lobster one.
- You never have to wait for a dog. They're ready to go 24 hours a day.
- Dogs have no use for flowers, cards, or jewelry.
- Dogs don't borrow your shirts.Dogs never want foot-rubs.
- Dogs enjoy heavy petting in public.
- Dogs find you amusing when you're drunk.
- Dogs can't talk.
- Dogs aren't catty.
- Dogs seldom outlive you.
Patriotic ties, fake beards and spies on cryin' jags. Sunday, leap day, penguin with a cute tushie ... it all just came together, huh? A cameo appearance by Renee Zellweger, and it would have been a four star panel, but still I give it two thumbs up a penguin's butt. It's gonna be a hit. Ya heard it here. Go out and by your Sunday paper for this strip. It is worth the buck, buck-fifty, half-a-sawbuck, or whatever the current cost of your local mass of dead tree pulp.
The last item in my Hit Parade listin' --- the one where those little dweebs that started that Blog Review said my blog sucked ... well, they must have sucked more than me, because there ain't nothin' but a 404 behind that link. As such, that spot is open if anyone wants to say somethin' good or crudpy 'bout my blog, it is a way to get a permanent link on the front page.
Well, this is the 12th one since the day of my birth, and the first in 8 years, so those of ya'll that were lucky enough to have been born on February 29th, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I do know it has been quite awhile since you got to celebrate, but just remember, even though your birthdays come few and far between, the world throws a party near* ever' year you have one. All the countries gather together their biggest, fastest and strongest performance enhanced and genetically modified specimens to compete against each other in a contest for metal medallions and braggin' rights. As usual, I shall be pullin' for Zimbabwe to take the gold in basketweavin'. This year the celebration is to be held in Greece, where the damn party and leap year originated.** However, this may be the first time the Olympics have been hosted by Greece that Troy, Mesopotamia and Persia did not field teams.***
Today was also supposed to be a very very special day for me. I had intended today to be my weddin' day. I mean, I am so addle-pated, I figured if I got married on a day that comes around only once in four years, I can only forget my anniversary once every four years. Like I said, I might be an idiot, but I ain't an uneducated idiot. All the plans were made. I was all ready to get the ceremony done. I had decided Carrot Top could conduct the ceremony. I had heard that he is an ordained minister of the Church of Dial Down the Middle of North America. However, it does seem that my people could not coordinate the event with her people. In fact, it seems that my people did not contact her people at all. In actually, I believe my people do not possess a clue as how to contact her people. I guess I shall just have to continue to worship my true love from afar and ain't that a cryin' shame. I hope you win that Oscar tonight, sweetie. Whatever you wear will be fine, honey, as you are gonna be the best lookin' woman in attendance.****
Old Man Wind also seems to be a bit confused about this leap year business. He is under the impression that March has arrived and roared in like a lion this mornin'. His wife, the Rain Mistress, is even more confused. She thinks it is April and was providin' spring showers. Me, I'll just continue to believe it is December and go check the mail for Christmas cards. ttffn
*There is that thing about it not happenin' on years endin' with double naughts. I suppose such years are just too naughty for leap years.
**This may not be a fact, as I did not research such and don't really forkin' care ... it was just somethin' to say, OK?
***See footnote **
****If you don't know who she is, if you are fertile and wantin' to have my baby, it might be you or it might be Renee Zellweger.*****
*****Uh, she inferred that you be female ... I just remembered some of my readers****** ain't as smart as me and I have to spell things out for them.*******
******Does one count as some?
*******See footnote **
OK, after the impromptu nap I spoke of earlier, I got up and got ready to go out and join in on a couple of events ... one bein' the Lincoln/Reagan Dinner put on by the area Republican Club and then hopefully would be able to run by one of the local restaurants to catch the end of Johnny Hanna's Show where a friend of mine was gonna be, as she is such a big Elvis fan and Johnny Hanna is one of the oldest Elvis impersonators and was also one of Elvis' friends. However, as Congressman Joe Barton was tellin' us stories about President Reagan, I could find no way to slip out without bein' seen so I missed the Elvis event. Thankfully, however, I did get there before the performer, my friend, and all of her friends had left, so actually, I only missed the show. It is not like I am a big Elvis fan, and to tell ya the truth, the guy looked kinda like I expect Elvis himself would look if he was still around, like an old, fat guy with long sideburns. Thank ya, thank ya very much. I spent just enough time there to charm the ladies before headin' over to a house party one of my supporters was havin' after the political dinner.
It was just a small party. I drank a Coke, as they didn't have any Dr. Pepper,* while everyone else was drinkin' wine or beer. I nibbled on some nuts, olives and such, but I was beginnin' to feel a bit bloated from the second helpin' of salad I ate at the political dinner, so I excused myself, ran by the store to refill my cup with the real stuff and here I am tellin' ya'll about it all ... like anyone is likely to read this anyway. Still, I have done my duty today to my party and political supporters, to my Elvis lovin' friend and her friends, and to all my fans out there in the blogosphere. So I guess I can drag my tired ass off to bed with a clear conscience. I am not sure how well you will sleep, though, because you didn't read this -- I know that because my counter hasn't moved and you didn't comment. Oh well, I ain't gonna lose any sleep over your failures, so don't fret it. I still love ya! No, really, I do. Who? YOU! Dammit, pay attention, OK?
My navel is in a bit of distress. My belly is gurglin' as I must have imbibed a little too heavily mostly on various greens covered with Italian dressin' and some peach cobbler. I should not have had that second helpin' of salad, but I thought I was doin' so well by not havin' seconds of the peach cobbler. I did pass on the chicken spaghetti, primarily because I hate chicken spaghetti, but also because it was the Lincoln/Reagan day dinner and I was almost sure that Lincoln never ate chicken spaghetti** and was pretty sure Reagan hadn't ever dined on it either. I am thinkin' I will end my evenin' by chewin' a couple of Pepcid Complete tablets before goin' to bed. I think I will try to read a couple more pages in that book I began yesterday and suspect that I should be asleep very soon. More about my mundane life to come in tomorrow, I believe, unless, of course, I die in my sleep. In that case, I likely won't be continuin' this blog. End of report.
*I did have almost a full cup of Dr. Pepper in the car.
**I am pretty sure that Lincoln had dined on possum and squirrel.
I now 'member what it was that 'caused me to stop readin' for pleasure -- it makes me so sleepy. I just awoke from sleepin' almost the whole day away. I have a political meetin' to attend this evenin' so won't be cryin' 'cause I ain't got crud to do this evenin'.
Funny though, it does seem like I ain't turned on the television in a long long time. I seriously can't recall the last time I sat and watched somethin' other than a movie on VHS or DVD. I am startin' to seriously wonder what kind of cavity probin' those aliens did when I was abducted last month.* I seem to have been altered in some way. Damn, I wish they had made me younger and better lookin'. Well, at least I quit smokin' ... been smokeless now for two whole ordinary months. I know we still have one more day to go in February due to the leap year. I may be an idiot, but I'm not an uneducated idiot. I done tol' ya'll that I ain't no hick, right?
*Yeah, I have noticed a strange irritation down there.
Well, Michele thinks we should all spend our Saturday playin' Simpson's trivia. OK, but do we really need to write down 150 questions and our answers to them? That is way too much work for me to do on any Saturday. I don't know about you, but I would rather do some housecleanin'.** I suggest if you want to spend all afternoon tryin' to answer questions about the Simpson's, you just go here and punch a few radio buttons. I sure do hope you get more Woohoos than Dohs, though. My best round was 8. However, they graciously gave me a Well Done! in several rounds where I only answered one question correctly.*** These questions are hard too, but at least ya don't have to worry about writin' anythin' down, right? How did you do?
*I am still awaitin' the official word from the Whitehouse or "The Ranch" in Crawford, Texas.
**As if there is gonna be any of that gettin' done around here today either.
***Actually ... a bit later
You scored a total of: 0 points
Have another bash....
So. I was up at the crack of dawn this mornin' with the other idiots and old men. I am not 'zactly sure with which group I am supposed to be associated, so I just sat and waited to see which group would gather 'round me. No gatherin' took place in my immediate area. Except for a casual scowl in my direction, no one seemed to take notice of my presence. Eventually, the idiots and the old men gathered in their respective areas and began to converse. I watched for awhile and then approached one group and then the other. In each case, a deathly hush preceded my approach. I felt their watchful eyes bore into me as I stepped closer and closer. I stopped short of sayin' anythin' and backed away. I eventually came to a conclusion that I was too ignorant to join the old men and too old to fit in among the idiots. Odd man out, as usual.
Now, after that depressin' scenario, you might have a hankerin' for a wee bit of levity, eh? Venture into the unknown and check out the entended entry.
OK, as the biggest topic of the weekend is The Passion of the Christ, I present the followin' bit of crud:
Gerald went on a vacation to the Middle East with most of his family including his mother-in-law.
During their vacation and while they were visiting Jerusalem. Gerald's mother-in-law died.
With the death certificate in hand, Gerald went to the American Consulate Office to make arrangements to send the body back to the States for proper burial.
The Consul, after hearing of the death of the mother-in-law told Gerald that the sending of a body back to the States for burial is very, very expensive. It could cost as much as $5,000.00. The Consul continued, that in most cases the person responsible for the remains normally decides to bury the body here. This would only cost $150.00.
Gerald thinks for some time and answers, "I don't care how much it will cost to send the body back; that's what I want to do."
The Consul, after hearing this, says "You must have loved your mother-in-law very much considering the difference in price."
"No, it's not that," says Gerald. "You see, I know of a case many years ago of a person that was buried here in Jerusalem. On the third day he arose from the dead! I would rather not take that risk.
Well, I just finished another long week of work and the weekend has arrived. By the old clock on the wall, the time now is just shy of 7:00 pm. Millions of Texans havin' run through the drive thru window at the bank to cash their paycheck and are home pullin' on their tightest jeans, eager to go fill their bellies full of frosty beer and scoot a few boots across a sawdust covered floor. Others are discussin' with their friends and sweeties what movie they are all gonna go see tonight. Some are just gonna snuggle on the couch and catch some reruns on the tube. I ain't into the drinkin' and dancin' scene any longer, even though my butt does still look good in a pair of tight fittin' jeans ... I cannot think of a single movie I wanna go see or even rent. I ain't even interested in seein' what is on the TV. I fuckin' hate bein' alone ... seriously. But even more than that, I hate playin' games with women my age who think I am cute and crud when women my age have no way of ever givin' me what I want. I have tried it, and no matter how often you attempt to tell some gal that you ain't interested in anythin' long term because they can never offer you that one thing that will make you happy, they somehow thing they can change your mind. I wanna share somethin' with all of you, men and women alike that I have learned in my almost half century of life. You cannot change other people ... period. There ain't no sense in tryin' because it ain't happenin'. People do change, but you don't change them, they change themselves. Now, sure some change themselves to please others, but most change themselves to please themselves, and if that somehow ends up pleasin' others, so be it.
I have made up my mind that I am not gonna make a lifetime commitment to any person that cannot bear our children. Fuck it that I am almost fifty years old. Fuck it that I lost a young wife and was distraught and depressed for a number of years. I fuckin' have everythin' to offer that men half my age have to offer and more: financial stability, maturity, and patience. I just guess it is hard to find someone as old as your dad to be physically attractive. I know I sure am not all that attracted to women my mother's age. Maybe my life ended a decade ago when my wife died, or maybe I am just an idiot to think that I should have someone to carry my genes into the future. Fuck it. Hot bath and bed, that sounds like a good plan. Hell, I got a damn library behind me, maybe I will look for a book to read. Yeah, I might as well do that 'cause I sure as fuck ain't got nuthin' better to do. I can lay in bed and read that book, rest it on my navel. It's funny how navels really do make good places to rest books, huh? I learned that many many years ago when I was a small child. My mom always said she always felt strange when she would send us kids up to our rooms for bein' too rambunctious or somethin' 'cause when she would look in on us, I was usually just layin' there readin' a book, not at all bothered by it. She said she never felt like I was punished at all. I, of course, knew that the usual reason we were sent to our rooms was so that she could find a few quiet moments to read whatever book she was readin' at the time.
Ain't it funny how we really do change over time? From my earliest memories, I was always an avid reader, and yet since law school, I seldom ever read for pleasure anymore. Is it because I read constantly as a part of my profession, that readin' has now truncated itself into my psyche as a chore?
Of course, speakin' of books, I still got three in the works that I have done nuthin' to in months. Why is that? What is it that makes my interests ebb and flo? I do so wonder about that? I know that most of our mental processin' is highly dependent upon chemicals, and I wonder about the chemical balances in my brain from time to time. Just what is my potassium level? Is my sodium level in balance? Is my liver adequately removin' ammonia from my blood stream? Did I destroy too many brain cells binge drinkin' in my twenties? What are the lead levels in my body? How about mercury? Asbestos? Teflon? Or is it just simple depression that drives my lack of interest in attainin' any wealth, fame, or recognition? Or is it that I find there are so few who are actually all that interested in what I write here on a daily basis, that I have developed the impression that my writin' is much less entertainin' than I previously thought, that my ideas are less ingenious than I believed, and that I am not the next J.K. Rowling. Fuck it. There really ain't no fuckin' sense of gettin' rich or bein' anyone if ya are just gonna die one day and leave no one behind to appreciate your accomplishments and live off of your estate, huh?
Well, if you got this far, you deserve a prize. Give me some suggetions -- after all, I might be rich some day -- provided that I ever pull my head outta my ass and banish the dark cloud that is hoverin' over my head. Don't hold your breath, however, as that could be highly hazardous to your health. We don't need no fuckin' Surgeon General to spread that news. End of report.
There is just too much really strange, unique, genuine, funny, insane, snarky, cruel, irreverant and otherwise noteworthy stuff left over from yesterday that ya haven't read or acknowledged, so until I am satisfied everyone has given such the attention it deserves, I am reservin't this space for future use.* Navel Gazin' Report fans need not worry too much as history has shown that even a major snit seldom precludes my daily regurgitatin' of inane belly button lore.
*Yeah, I am poutin' for links and comments ... :p
George really outdid himself with this week's list and there were several really good jokes from which to choose. Both of the followin' are worthy of sharin':
My boss was complaining in a staff meeting the other day that he wasn't getting any respect.
Later that morning he went out and got a small sign that read, "I'm the Boss." He then taped it to his office door.
Later that day when he returned from lunch, he found that someone had taped a note to the sign that said: "Your wife called, she wants you to bring her sign back!"
I had heard that one before, but for some reason, it tickled my funny bone such that my loud guffaws could likely have alarmed the whole neighborhood ... now this next one was new to me, and it caught me totally by surprise:
A woman walked into the kitchen to find her husband stalking around with a fly swatter.
"What are you doing?" she asked.[*]
"Hunting Flies" he responded.
"Oh!, Killing any?" she asked.
"Yep, 3 males and 2 females", he replied.
Intrigued, she asked. "How can you tell which is which?"
He responded, "3 were on the TV remote and 2 were on the phone."
*It does seem that women can ask some really stupid questions at times, at least in jokes. ;)
OK, I decided to use a bit of the free time I got by playin' hooky from work after the trial aborted to read a few blogs, slather a few comments here and there and to link to a few of my favs as was my former system prior to the snit. What I find is what kinda set me off on the snit in the first place ... people do not seem to be anymore likely to read or comment if I post more often than they did previously. I have actually found that by postin' less often, I am drawin' about the same number of readers daily, meanin' to me that I likely have about that number of regular readers who really seem to be keen on comin' to read my various diatribes about me and my mundane existence.
Most likely, this phenomenon is due to most such people also tend to read most of the same blogs on a regular basis as I do, so find no need for my pointers to these blogs. No, they want the original content, that stuff that is truly me and about me. They really do come for these Nightly Navel Gazin' Reports™ and who woulda ever thunk that?
Well, I will tell ya'll that my navel is highly pleased to learn that it is such a major star of the blogosphere, and it truly loves all the adoration and attention that ya'll have shown it by your continued readership and ardent commentin'. It may just be that soon I will replace that stupid picture of me in the upper left hand corner with one of my belly button. It seems to be what everyone wants to see and read about, after all. Hey, give the fans what they want, right. Someone said that, who was it? Pete Rose maybe? Or was that Gypsy Rose Lee? Now there was a lady that was not afraid to bare her navel for her adorin' fans. Well, enough inanity ... ya'll go read some of the other crud I wrote today and throw in a pity comment here and there. Send me some hate mail or something. If'n ya read my psychological crud down there, you might find I am a psychotic, neurotic somethin' or other that hates it because he lives alone and might be gettin' drunk and thinkin' about shootin' his dogs* or somethin' right now. Actually, I have no idea what any of that gobblety gook is -- some Freudian slips or shits, I don't know. Fuck this shit, I am goin' to bed. End of report.
*I ain't even thinkin' of shootin' my dogs, people. That is just some crud I said. I love my dogs, even though they are barkin' and barkin' and barkin' and drivin' me crazy right now. I think maybe they are tryin' to tell me that they really really love me and want me to bring them a dog biscuit. ttffn.
Eysenck's Test Results
|Extraversion (51%) medium which suggests you are moderately talkative, optimistic, and sociable. |
Neuroticism (63%) moderately high which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and nervous.
Psychoticism (38%) moderately low which suggests you are good natured, trusting, and helpful but possibly too much of a follower.
ISTP - "Engineer". Values freedom of action and following interests and impulses. Independent, concise in speech, master of tools. 5.4% of total population.
Enneagram Test Results
Your Unconscious-Overall type is 2w3
Yeah, yeah, so I'm forkin' insane ... what ya want to make of it, huh?
There's really nothing like quietly sitting at your computer and shitting all over yourself at the sound and feel of a bomb going off. - Gennie
It seems that in Wichita, Kansas a woman viewin' The Passion of the Christ actually went into a seizure durin' the crucifixion scene and later died. Now if this woman is resurrected and appears on Nationwide TV in the next few days, I am gonna literally have a seizure of my own and will likely die as a result.*
*OK, so maybe my havin' a cruel and tasteless streak surprised ya'll, but surely it was not a surprise that I can be utterly irreverent?
**or maybe second or third, but it was before me ... so get off my back already.
OK, look ya'll, I got really really drunk and shot my forkin' dog. Is there any of ya'll able to help me come up with the $5K I need to make my bail?
Yeah, yeah, I know. It was not only cruel but really tasteless. All really bad humor aside, do go help the Esmays. They do a lot for others, so give them a hand now when they need it.
I am sorry, but my utterly inquisitive nature finds this post and the followin' comments to be most interestin'. Thanks to James
not Joyce Joyner for leadin' me swiftly into the valley of the righteous and the other righteous.
Thanks to my Human friend, Jen, for enlightenment in my darkest hour.
*I shall now retire to my quarters and endulge in Pon Farr with this beautiful creature from another planet.**
**Picture link was extracted through mind meld with Da Commissar.
75% (Dixie). That is a pretty strong Southern score!
Well Hell Yeah! I think I woulda scored a bit higher if'n I called a creek a crick, but then, ya'll do know that I ain't 'zactly a hick? So, what 'r you, a damn Yankee or a son or daughter of Dixie?
Kudos to SilverBlue for leadin' the way.
It seems that Owen is among those lucky enough to have already seen The Passion of the Christ. It appears that many have yet to find any tickets available. Then, of course, there might be a few like me that will just await the DVD to hit the bargain bins at the local video store.
London tourists might not think a toilet with one-way mirrors is a good idea, but I could have definitely found a use for one durin' the showin's of every episode of the Lord of the Rings movie series. I mean, ya eat a tub of popcorn, salty as Hell, while washin' that down with 32 ounces of Dr. Pepper® (or in some cases, Coca-Cola*, in those places in which only Coke products are sold**) in a 3 hour movie, ya are gonna gave to make a trip to the restroom. If they had some toilets with see through walls in the rear of the theater, then I would not have to cringe, pinch my legs together, just waitin' for a slow moment in the action so as to dart out, jostlin' people and steppin' on toes, runnin' to the restroom, yada yada***, and runnin' back, hopin' I didn't miss somethin' really good.
*If you want me to do the extra work to identify your trademark, then pony up the bucks that I am hopeful that Dr. Pepper will one day pay me to hype their fantastic product.
**Mr. Pibb bein' such a bad imitation of Dr. Pepper as to be a totally nauseatin' choice.
***TMI replacement language.
Well, I aroused all fresh and alert and feel that my mental trowel is clean and sharp, so I am ready to spend the greater part of today listenin' to a lot of the State of Texas' witnesses and then do my best to punch a few holes in their testimony. I fear they have a strong case, but I will do my best to make the whole scenario look a bit like a Swiss cheese tapestry when laid out for final view either some time this afternoon or tomorrow.
[UPDATE: Now ain't this apropos:
Your Thursday horoscope, Taurus!
Communication is emphasized in a dramatic manner today. This is an afternoon of poetry and song, although some trouble is indicated if you forget your previously scheduled appointments.
It appears the stars are tellin' me I might need to insert a little song and dance into today's trial routine, and that if I don't hit the road soon and make it on time, the judge is gonna jump down my ass. ttffn]
[UPDATE II: Well, it does seem that my legal skills were just too much for anyone to handle today. As soon as I showed up, the DA said he had been up all night workin' on a possible murder case over the night where some argument dealin' with a pit bull dog came to a point where one person shot another person who is expected to die soon. So, the DA was tired and decided to come down a bit on his plea bargain offer. As soon as my client showed up, I took him to the side to tell him the offer, figuring he would not take it, as he has been sayin' all along he was an innocent bystander caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, it seems that after lookin' in the eyes of the jury yesterday after they were seated, he, too, had also had a sleepless night. This mornin' he was not really so eager to thrust grand decisions regardin' his life into their eager hands. As such, with a tiny tad of coaxin' on my part and some elaborately devised explanations to his family members as why I thought he was wise to be wantin' to accept the offer, the deal was made. As such, following some admonishments and waivers, the plea was accepted and the trial is over; the jury was dismissed; my client is likely gonna do less time than any of the other 7 people involved in the case; the DA gets to go home and get some rest; the Judge's trial week is over and he could now go fishin' or somethin' if he wanted; my secretary decided to take today off thinkin' I was gonna be in trial all day and would never know about it; and I am playin' hooky at home nursin' that damn sore back I got from standin' in the damn same place for 45 minutes yesterday pickin' that damn jury. My hot bath has been run, and I am thinkin' of doin' a bit of housecleanin'.*** The best thing about the whole episode is that I did not have to call the local County Judge to tell him I was gonna miss this month's County Court docket set tomorrow mornin' because I was stuck in trial after havin' missed it for the last two prior months because I was stuck in some District Court here or there. I personally am just a bit sad that the trial did not go, as I do so love goin' through the whole dog and pony show. The part I hate the most is jury selection, and here the damn trial went past that part and was aborted just as the fun part was fixin' to start.]
*To be received on this upcomin' Friday in some
utterly remote parts of the world.
**As with most supposed quickies, the mere labelin' of some action as such never actually quells one's urge to keep comin' back for more and more of a good thing.
***That thought quickly passed and I am pretty sure no housecleanin' is gonna get done today after all. I am pretty sure that my desire to take a nap will supersede such endeavor in my personal priorities list.****
****Such list is stored firmly in the recesses of my chaotic mind and is governed by balancing a need for systematic procrastination with my personal tendencies toward utter laziness.
I fear that this night is endin' much earlier than anticipated, but as the trial has started, I got stuff to do, mostly gettin' some rest so I can be doin' some good thinkin' as the DA starts questionin' his witnesses the first thing in the mornin'. My back is already stiffenin' up from havin' to stand in one place for 45 minutes or so as I questioned the jury pool. The people in the pool have been shuffled around all week and it was hard to get any kind of reactions out of them at all. I did my best, and so did the DA, to cull the ones out that we thought were leanin' too far toward the other side, but the ones that made the jury look like a hangin' jury anyway. Sometimes, tryin' cases in rural areas is like pullin' teeth out of an alligator while it is chewin' off you leg, it seems. Especially cases involving drugs. I did try to get my client to agree to the plea bargain, but in either case, unless he gets a not guilty verdict, whatever time the jury gives him is as good as a death sentence. He has cirrhosis and havin' already had three members of my family die from such, I personally know he likely does not have that much longer to live. Here is hopin' that I can punch enough holes in the DA's case to get him off. If not, I at least want to believe I did my best job possible.
As such, I am gonna go soak in another hot tub of water, gaze at my navel as the sun has not set, and then take my tired ass to bed. I do apologize for not bein' around much lately, but things change, don't they. I love all ya'll --- I just forget to tell ya that. Hey, I noticed the little dead girl is back over at Michele's place. I like that little dead girl, because she looks like I feel most of the time, like death warmed over. Ta ta for forkin'* now. End of report.
*I just got so damn tired of seein' ttfn that I decided to add another f. It is now ttffn.
It seems that a good night's sleep did not dispell the dating dilemma in my life. No, I am not continuin' the diatribe about my lack of any meanin'ful companionship of the female persuasion, but am again commentin' on there bein' some difficulty with gettin' a handle on what day it actually is. I mean, take for example this item delivered to my inbox this very mornin':
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Your Monday horoscope, Taurus!
Focus on resolving some longstanding dispute today. You have a better negotiating ability and can make sense of things before the impact is truly felt. Study the needs of other people and see what you can give as part of attracting them to take your deal.
Now once and for all, is today Wednesday or what?*
*Please, no responses from those on the other side of the International Date Line. My feeble brain cannot comprehend this early in the mornin' that it is not actually the same day of the week in every place in the world.
Well, got the call today that I am gonna be startin' that trial tomorrow, so guess I had better be tryin' to get my brain cells a'clickin' again. I am supposin' that gettin' a good night's sleep is one thing I know I can accomplish, or, at least, attempt to accomplish. I have long ago found that just 'cause I go to bed early ain't no guarantee I am gonna fall asleep early, but stayin' up all night is surely a guarantee that I ain't gonna get a good night's sleep. So, given my druthers, if it is a good night's sleep that I am tryin' to get, I do think I will come more likely gettin' it if I am a'layin' in my bed than I will if'n I piddle around playin' freecell on the 'puter or stare mindlessly for hours at my belly button.
I have just detubbed™ from a long hot bath and am clad solely in my bathrobe, not so much for modesty's sake, as I am here alone, but more to fend off the chill of the non-heated air in the house. Although the last couple of days have been dreary rainy affairs, the temperature has stayed in the low fifties and high forties so that I am able to keep my climate control disconnected. That pleases me greatly because I will do anything possible to keep donatin' as little money as possible to the 'lectric
pirates company. Of course, bein' clad in said bathrobe, as well as the only light bein' that emitted by the computer monitor,* I am actually unable to see my navel. I was additionally unable to see it while I was soakin' in that hot tub tub of hot water, as there was hardly any light bein' put out by that cheap votive candle alit high on the shelf. Besides, I was takin' a bubble bath ... don't ask me why ... I just was.
Anyway, I do know this is a round about way of tellin' ya'll that I am gonna go to bed early tonight, but that is what I am tryin' to do. My belly button, although ungazed 'pon, is doin' fine, I am sure. I remain totally amazed that so many of ya'll continue to read my drivel, but it gladdens me that ya do. Thanks, friends for droppin' in - truly and sincerely. I sometimes think ya'll are the slender tether that keeps me from floatin' totally off into the realm of pure insanity. I have nuthin' more to add, I guess. End of report.
*another tactic to cheat the 'lectric out of a few more of my well earned pennies
I thought I had done gone screwy when I saw where Goldie had pinged me today with a post entitled did someone say 'hump day'? 'cause all day I had been under the impression that today was Fat Tuesday. Well, it was Fat Tuesday for us, but seems it is already Ash Wednesday for those in the land of Oz, and likely my Kiwi friends in New Zealand as well. Now what concerns me is that I have forgotten in which direction Superman has to fly at a speed faster than light in order to go back in time. I know I knew that when I was 10 ... so how could I have forgotten such an important piece of information, now, when I probably need it more than I ever did at age 10. Of course, I now probably have more need for my name to be written in my underwear than I did when I was 10. This is not because I am any more liable to be losin' my underwear now than I was then. In neither case was that likely, as I have always managed to stay aware of the location of my underwear. No, any need for havin' identification written therein is because I am much more likely to forget who I am now that I was when I was 10. If you need any proof as to the decay of my mental processes, just notice how this post started out as a discussion of dates* and denigrated into a discussion of my underwear. Case closed, I think ... found guilty of bein' brainless.
*And, if you reread the overlooked first post of the day, you can see I was already a bit confused about whether I awoke today or tomorrow.
OK, I have been tryin' to send a trackback to Susie because I linked back to her in the comments on this post. For some reason, it just would not go through despite a multitude of repeated attempts. I finally decided to check the activity log to see if there was any indication of why I was unable to ping her, and I found this message:
Ping 'http://blog.mu.nu/cgi/mt-tb.cgi/12126' failed: Your ping could not be submitted, possibly because you suck. If you're not a spammer, try making your comment look less like spam. I am strangely allergic to the word "none", so if you used that word in your comment, let me suggest one of these alternatives: (Pause.) Uh, you know, there really aren't any good synonyms for "none". Maybe you could try spelling it differently, "Nun", perhaps. "N'one" looks kind of cute. "Noone" for emphasis. Oh, and if you are a spammer, piss off.
I suppose my IP address has been added to the mt-blacklist master list as well.
After an complete day of rest, I have awakened to find a wholly blank mind and a truly bland life. I can now easily imagine how Rip Van Winkle truly felt after havin' awoken from his nap to find himself 20 years into the future. I only awoke to face tomorrow, which I understand is actually today, and, yet, I seem to be lost in a world I no longer understand. What in the Hell do they put into Tylenol PMs anyway?
Wow, was today ever fairly the weirdest day I have had in awhile. I got up early this morning, almost sure I was gonna be in trial for the next couple of days. As it turned out, there was another case that was ahead of mine, so I am on half-day standby. I was not feelin' real well this mornin, but have not slept well over the past several days for whatever reason. I suspected I was just succumbin' to exhaustion. Anyway, when I returned back to my office, I just decided to come home and sleep. So, that is what I did almost all day. I am now gonna go back to bed, so will catch up with all ya'll later.
My navel is fine. How is yours? Give me some feed back -- End of report.
OK, this one is again primarily for the gals. I have provided you with a double whammy into reality, now we shall delve deep into my bizarre mind to disclose what my deepest and darkest dreams reveal. Is my navel involved? Is it encased in mink? Why am I askin' a bunch of stupid questions? It is late and I have a lot to do tomorrow, and I sorely need to get to bed ... so without further ado, I am gonna urge those of you with strong stomachs to venture forth into the extended entry. For the rest of you - End of report.
Opus proves you cannot go home again, even if it is not your own home. A bit of retrospect to be seen. Still no Steve Dallas,* though. We may yet have something of which to look forward to see.
*I am still convinced that the Steve Dallas character was based upon me, somehow.
Today was an absolute beautiful day here in North Central Texas, and some of us enjoyed it tremendously. I however was not among those. Oh, it was not that I did not have fun. I watched Manhunter, the original movie made involvin' Hannibal Lektor and took a long afternoon nap. I did not do much bloggin', 'ceptin' readin' and repondin' to comments and deletin' comment spam.* I had really intended to spend a greater part of the day readin' all the blogs on my blogroll and catchin' up a bit on what I have missed. I didn't get it done, of course. I just don't know what gets into me. I do that from time to time, get to a point where somethin' comes along, distracts me from what has been an ever'day activity of mine, and then it goes awry. Did I ever tell ya'll about the online comic strip I did for almost six months? I actually had quite a followin', but my mother died and I went to the funeral and let it lapse for a couple of days, and then I began to reflect on the amount of my time it was takin' up and the fact that I was receivin' no remuneration for all that effort and it died.
I guess bloggin' has gone through somethin' similar, but not quite the same. I did find I was spendin' way too much time on it than I actually could afford, what with the many other activities I have goin' on, and I also found that I was not exactly gettin' the return I expected, although, I am not quite sure I was gettin' less than my efforts deserved. What I did discover was that I did like bein' able to share my life and its travails, ordeals, and pleasures with those whom I had developed friendships through my bloggin' efforts, but that I did not really care about continuation of the hoopla and crud that went with movement up the ecosystem. As such, I my blog has evolved or devolved, dependin' 'pon whether you like what is appearin' better than what formerly appeared or not. I know that I am doin' what I want with it, and as I have previously stated, it is my blog and I can damn well do whatever I want with it. I create it, I pay for the server space, and I paid for the software used to create it. It is crud, but it is my crud ... it is the crud that comes from my crudpy thoughts that float around in my crudpy brain that lives inside my crudpy head, and I am proud of what comes forth upon these electronic pages.
My navel, of course, seems to have no concern about this blog at all, and yet, is also the star to most of the current production that exists in this blog. In actuality, that is likely a good thing, because if that navel knew how highly dependent the success of this blog turned on its existence, it would like expect something more than bein' bathed and pampered. So, ya'll do me a favor and don't let on how much you yearn to know about my navel, OK? I can ill afford to be buying a mink navel warmer or some other such extravagant item. In fact, I suppose I might want to end this conversation before my navel decides to get perky and pays attention to what I am doin'. As such: End of report.
*I do have to admit that the comment SPAMMERs were extra busy today, as I had to delete three different efforts during the day. Of course, the winner was the last effort, because I did actually hit their damn link and go to their page. What a bunch of crud.
Yep, I have been pullin' at the remainin' strands of my gray/brown/none mix of hair on the top of my head tryin' to think of somethin' so thoroughly unique as to top what I put up last night. I came up with zilch, nada, nuthin'. What the heck is a guy gonna do? I sit here dreamin' of all ya'll lovely ladies and all I want to do is do my best to satisfy your needs, and yet I have nuthin' to show ya tonight. Waah! ya say? Well, I had a very very long day ... maybe that is the problem. Let's hope so, right? Maybe tomorrow will be another day ... that is somethin' I would put a good bet on, because in all my almost 49 years of life, I have never seen a day repeat ... seriously! I am not pullin' your leg ... every day the sun comes up and every day it sets, but there is always a different date and no day is exactly the same as any other. That is pretty amazin' if ya just stop and think about it, don't ya think? Actually, maybe more than anythin', that is a good sign I am too tired to think ... or maybe I am just the weirdest guy in the world. I think the odds are even on either choice ... of course, I am not sure what ya win, even if ya are right. All I know is that I am really, really tired* and I think I will go to bed early, again, for the second day in a row.
*Did ya ever yawn like every other second for fifteen minutes and every time you did so, you damn eyes got so blurry you could not see anythin'?
A nursery school teacher was delivering a station wagon full of kids home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children fell to discussing the dog's duties. "They use him to keep crowds back," said one youngster. "No," said another, "he's just for good luck."A third child brought the argument to a close. "They use the dogs," she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrant."
I am a sucker for pure logic ;)
As this one is so short, I have included another one in the extended entry. It tends to make disparagin' remarks about our current President, but I remember havin' seen this same joke runnin' 'round when Slick Willie was President and he was the subject of said joke. So, I ain't makin' no political statements by postin' the damn joke, ok. Just read the damn thing ... it is funny.
President Bush is visiting a primary school and he visits one of the classes. They are in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings. The teacher asks the President if he would like to lead the discussion on the word "tragedy". So the illustrious leader asks the class for an example of a "tragedy".
One little boy stands up and offers: "If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs him over and kills him, that would be a tragedy."
"No," says Bush,"that would be an accident."
A little girl raises her hand: "If a school bus carrying 50 children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy."
"I'm afraid not," explains the president. "That's what we would call a great loss."
The room goes silent. No other children volunteer. Bush searches the room. "Isn't there someone here who can give me an example of a tragedy?"
Finally at the back of the room a small boy[*] raises his hand. In a quiet voice he says: "If Air Force One, carrying President & Mrs Bush was struck by a "friendly fire" missile and blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy."
"Fantastic!" exclaims Bush, "That's right. And can you tell me why that would be tragedy?"
"Well," says the boy, "because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss and it probably wouldn't be an accident."
*I would assume that if you needed a name for this little smartass, Little Johnny would likely suffice..
I don't know why someone from 220.127.116.11 came in and left 25 comments on various posts without posing a URL. The appeared to have left 3 or 4 different email addresses. Their comments were not trollish, necessarily, in nature but added nothin' of substance to any of the posts. Most were the trite statements like Thee best blogggg or somethin' similar. Mostly, it was just the sheer number of such comments that I found irritatin'. Regrettably, I found it necessary to delete them all and to ban such IP number. I do so hope that I did not just press the iggy button on my new No. 1 fan, or, George forbid, the mother of my children. ;)
This is just for ya'll gals, as ya'll have stuck with me no matter what, it seems. I have gotten hugs and kisses, and whatnot, and all that has kept me afloat, semi-on track, and able to trudge through my despicable life one damn day after another. Thanks, thanks a lot ... I really do mean that. As your reward, I have donned my sexiest silk boxers and taken a couple of pics. They are in the extended entries, as I am sure that most of the men really do not care to see me in boxer shorts or any other skimpy clothin'. I ain't just real sure any of ya'll gals want have anything to do with seein' me in my drawers either, even though I look so sexy. Ha ha ha ha! Like if! Well, that is about the best lead in I can do for what paltry offerin' I have to give. Have a look or don't. As for me, I am plumb tuckered out and headin' for bed. I know it is early, but I am feelin' drowsy. As I have so very little else to do, I see no reason to fight any urge to sleep. I do hope ya'll will understand. I am gonna end this report here, but ya'll do know it ain't really ended here if there is somethin' in the extended entry, right? Or is that right? Heck, I just don't know. Oops, see, I must be tired, 'cause I just admitted that I actually do not know everythin'. Fine! Here I went and ruined that image ya'll all had of me. Well, I actually think seein' me in my drawers will do that, or at least won't make anythin' better. I am gonna shut up now before I swallow my foot. End of report.
it has a border 'round it, so that means click it
Well, actually, I probably could, but it is ridiculous to sit here lookin' at this screen, knowin' I would feel much better if I just went to bed and laid my head down on my buckwheat pillow. I just got out of the bath, where I spent several minutes pourin' hot water over my head. This eased the pain and, with the muscles eased by the hot water, I then spent the next few minutes rollin' my head around listenin' to the small pops here and there as certain areas of my neck were thereby manipulated, hopefully back to where they belong. I then downed a pair of envelopes of BC Powder, which I will hereby endorse as the best pain killers you can buy without a prescription. In my opinion, and I probably have as much experience with over the counter analgesics as anyone, they seem to work faster than anything else on the market. The pain is still there, but is is subsidin' as I am writin' this. I can, although, still feel that sharp pain in that certain spot at the bottom of my neck which is the likely source of tonight's problem. This might be a little bit of TMI, but let me reveal that I am currently sittin' here nekkid as a newborn baby and I am lookin' right down at my perky little navel sittin' in the middle of my rosy red plump belly. It seems to be doin' so much better than either my neck or my head. It therefore appears that my head and my neck are in need of much more attention than my navel at this current time. I suppose, then, that I will close this report and do what I can do to ease that situation. Here is hopin' ya'll are are doin' great, and don't ya'll worry too much about me and my problems tonight, OK? I mean, it ain't like my arm is hurtin' like Hell or somethin'. In fact, my arm is feelin' pretty good. However, I do suppose, in retrospect, that from one day to the next this week in these report, I have finally proven the old sayin' that if it ain't one thing, it is another. End of report.
Via a link provided by LeeAnn, I wandered over to this site and saw this link entitled "Beatles" so as a long time fan of the Beatles, being alive at the time when they were just beginning, were all still alive and having heard all their #1 hits as they were released and climbin' the charts toward that eventual #1 rankin', I had to click said link. It took me to a page where I was confronted with the following examination regardin' my qualifications to view the good stuff.
I am at least 3 years old, and no older than 137. I am either male or female, or unsure. I have never (to my best knowledge), knowingly engaged in professional snake wrestling. My chief interests do not include collecting disposable lighters, timing snail runs, or counterfeiting encyclopedii. I do not believe in conspiracy theories involving ducks or any other fowl and own no autographed works of Shakespeare. I will not divulge any information concerning the whereabouts of William Campbell, or his connection to the un-named (though famous) soup company that has some reason to insist on operating a plant in Camden, NJ. I was not coerced into accepting these terms, nor was I forced to visit this page. I am here of my own somewhat free will, and wish merely to learn the ultimate answer to life and the universe, even though I may have initially believed it was 47 or 23 or 17 or 9 (though not necessarily in that order). I either agree to the terms set aside, or not..*
I, of course, felt I passed all the criteria so did agree to the terms. The site was very interesting and I will have to spend much more time there when I do not have a headache.**
*I may have unintentionally corrected a couple of spelling mistakes in the quoted text, and, as such, it may vary from the original slightly.
**Susie, this one seems to be centered in my neck, which is somewhat stiff as I have been sittin' starin' at the monitor without movement for several hours today. It is now time to go.***
***I actually could use a good massage, and would ask my lovely assistant to assist me with such if I only had a lovely assistant to ask .. however bein' as I currently have no lovely assistan, are there any volunteers among the audience. ;)
I have noticed that there seems to have been quite a few Amber Alerts lately, and I was a bit alarmed ... then I thought about how many children there are in our country and how many evil predators that exist in our country, and how many of those Amber Alerts actually involve custody situations, and all of a sudden, I was thinkin' that maybe it is simply amazin' that there are so few Amber Alerts on a regular basis.
A store that sells husbands has just opened in Dallas, TX where a woman may go to choose a husband from among many men. The store is comprised of 6 floors, and the men increase in positive attributes as the shopper ascends the flights. There is however, a catch. As you open the door to any floor you may choose a man from that floor, but if you go up a floor, you cannot go back down except to exit the building.
So a woman goes to the shopping center to find a husband. On the first floor the sign on the door reads:
Floor 1 - These men have jobs.
The woman reads the sign and says to herself, "Well, that's better than my last boyfriend, but I wonder what's further up?" So up she goes. The second floor sign reads:
Floor 2 - These men have jobs and love kids.
The woman remarks to herself, "That's great, but I wonder what's further up?" And up she goes again. The third floor sign reads:
Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love kids and are extremely good looking.
"Hmmm, better" she says. "But I wonder what's upstairs?" The fourth floor sign reads:
Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking and help with the housework.
"Wow!" exclaims the woman, "very tempting. BUT, there must be more further up!" And again she heads up another flight. The fifth floor sign reads:
Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love kids, are extremely good looking, help with the housework and have a strong romantic streak.
"Oh, mercy me! But just think... what must be awaiting me further on?" So up to the sixth floor she goes. The sixth floor sign reads:
Floor 6 - You are visitor 3,136,456,789,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping Husband Mart and have a nice day!
By the way, did I fail to mention that I have been sitting on the second floor for years waitin' for those elevator doors to open. I might have made it up to one of the higher floors, but you have to be extremely good lookin' to advance above the second floor.
This pretty well sums up my entire day. End of report.
I just spent about 20 minutes on the phone with some lady with whom I supposedly am acquainted ... now living in another county. She had called me previously about assisting her with some matter and I had discussed the price of service with her. She called this evenin' to discuss paying me a hundred bucks to just do the paperwork for her. She is of the opinion that she can handle this modification of child custody matter on her own when it goes before the court. When I first answered the phone she attempted to tell me who she was and she asked me how I was doin', I said "I am tired. I am brain dead as usual after a long day at work, and I am just sittin' here watchin' TV tryin' to unwind." I mean, fuck, lady, it is 4 hours past closin' time and you want to waste my time tryin' to convince me you are not tryin' to beat me out of money. I thought it strange that she had the audacity to describe what she was askin' me to do as mere secretarial work, like I was just typin' up pleadin's she was gonna have already prepared. No lady, you are tryin' to pay me chump change to do that which I am generally paid $150 an hour ( $100 an hour less than most of the other local attorneys, I might add) to do, because I know what the fuck I am doin' and you don't. I went to school for a lot of fuckin' years, spendin' a lot of money on my education, and passed a really fuckin' hard test to become an attorney, ya know? It ain't like I just one day hung out a shingle and said I am gonna screw a bunch of people out of money because I know a lot of big words that no one else understands.
I am really pissed . . . but I am not so pissed at this pain in the ass manipulative wench that destroyed the greater part of this evenin's free time . . . no, I am pissed because I didn't immediately tell her to piss off and just hang the phone up. I actually just listened with half an ear as she droned on and on and on and finally told her to come see me and we would see what we could do. crud, sometimes I fuckin' hate bein' the softhearted pushover I am. I really do. No fuckin' wonder I eat Pepcid Complete tablets by the handful.
[UPDATE: Well, thanks for the advice and the light of day! The lady just called me back and asked if I was still interested in assistin' her. I advised her I had several people tell me to not do so. She asked me why they said that. I said because I am not a secretary and that if someone comes in asking for an uncontested divorce, most of my service would be preparin' the necessary paperwork, this is about the same kind of deal. I charge much more than $100 for doin' uncontested divorces. I told her to go to her local county law library and look for the resources to prepare that paperwork herself. I can still remember the part of the conversation we had last night when she remarked how I would actually be out so very little except for a bit of paper and ink. To tell you the truth, she should pay me that $100 for all of my time she wasted last night and for the great advice I gave her today.]
Ya'll 'member that snow that was sittin' around on the ground on Saturday mornin'? Well, ya'll know it was all melted before nightfall. And today it is 61 degrees and bright sunshine outside. If variety is the spice of life, then Texas is the spiciest place there is anywhere in the world. Our weather changes from day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute. Our geography contains almost every feature that can be found anywhere else, from canyons and mountains, to plains and rivers, to white sand beaches and forests. A myriad of varyin' cultures combine to color our heritage and the varying foods fill our air with such delicious odors. Yep, Texans are a proud bunch, but then we feel we got a right to be proud. Besides, if ya got a problem with that, then feel free to move back where ya came from. ;)
Yikes, but what my arm is not hurtin' like Hell. I ain't sure what carpal tunnel syndrome is, but if it means that you damn arm bone feels like it is on fire, I think I got it bad on the right side. Maybe I am lucky and it is only a stress fracture. Whatever it is, it is not givin' me any pleasure ... despite my predilection for findin' some painful experiences to be fun here and there* and my unusual ability to withstand pain to a great extent. I am not sure if it is the pain or the worry that I might be permanently afflicted with something that will keep me from manipulatin' mouse and keys to my heart's desire. Even, more incredibly, it might be the end of my pathetic love life .... what little bit of love life my involuntarily imposed asexuality allows me to experience. I damn well ain't gonna describe the ins and outs and ups and downs, or the utter lack thereof which constitutes my love life. I will leave that bit of TMI completely to your own imagination. You can almost bet that anything you imagine is actually much better than what actually occurs. If it be any consolation, however, I will tell you that there are times when my navel actually plays some part in the endeavor. That part also, I will leave to your imagination. Feel free to conjure whatever scenarios you desire. As I said, they are most probably so much more erotic than the real thing. I suppose things might be better with coke, but as I have no coke, am aware that coke is illegal, and have no idea what effect coke actually has on the body, that things might actually be worse with coke. Actually, I am truly beginnin' to think things might be better with a healthy dose of saltpeter every day. I also wonder if that really works or is it some old wives' tale of yesteryear. What in the hell is saltpeter anyway? I think it is that potassium nitrate that is used for salt substitute for people that are on low sodium diets. Or at least that belief is why I have always avoided the use of such substance.
I actually abhor goin' to the doctor for any problem, advice or whatever. Mostly this is because I don't really want to know that I am dyin', that my cholesterol is high, blood pressure is high, stress level is high, or that the doctor's bills are especially high for the little bit of crud he actually did do durin' the visit. My dad once said he understood why a doctor's business was called a practice. He said it was because they really didn't know how to fix you, they just continued to practice on you until they either found somethin' that eventually cured you or you died. I almost have to agree with that impression, because I know I have not felt much confidence in any physician ... well, except maybe for that last proctologist I saw. I mean a guy that actually looks up you butt must have enough love for his job to shoot straight with you, huh? I trusted the guy, I really did. I had to trust him, because he had his whole hand up my ass. I forget now exactly why that was. What I do know is that I was both impressed and shocked that a person's whole hand and a goodly portion of an arm could actually fit into my butt. I also remember that the sensation of havin' that hand and most of that arm up my butt was not very pleasurable. I decided then and there that my prostate could rot and disintegrate before I was gonna ever go see any proctologist again. Of course, would it not be ironic if the cure for carpal tunnel syndrome turned out to be as simple as shoving your hand and a goodly portion of your arm up someone's butt.
Now, if the foregoin' discussion did not completely run off the three remainin' readers I still have, my animal magnetism is much stronger than I previously believed to be possible. However, I fear goin' forth further, first because my arm is still hurtin' like hell and secondly, because my arm is still hurtin' like hell. End of report.
*Oh spank me, baby! Yeah!
Celibacy can be a choice in life, or a condition imposed by environmental encounters.
While attending a Marriage Encounter Weekend, Walter and his wife Ann, listened to the instructor declare, "It is essential that husbands and wives know the things that are important to each other."
He addressed the men, "Can you name and describe your wife's favorite flower?"
Walter leaned over, touched Ann's arm gently and whispered, "Pillsbury All-purpose, isn't it?"
And, thus began Walter's life of celibacy.
There ain't nuthin' to see folks. Zempt must send a ping whenever it publishes an edited post. I found I had left out a "ly" which grossly warped any sense that could have been made of a substantial passage in the previous post. As you all ran here to see what was new and are likely not going to locate that additional "ly" nor care a whit about even trying to do so, I hurriedly posted this bit of crud so you would at least find somethin' new. It is crud, but it is new crud. It still stinks, though, doesn't it? I am sorry for that, I truly am.
you find yourself surrounded by flowers. All of those white lies and playful platitudes ya'll very lovely ladies have lauded upon me have caused my cheeks to redden and my heart to go pitter pat. I do thank ya'll for that wee bit of pleasure. I seem to get so little pure pleasure from my life in this day and time, and don't really think that will change anytime soon. My romantic prospects are dim or none. I tried the eHarmony plan, but could never get them to understand that I am not wantin' to live out the rest of my life with someone who has grown children. I am still wantin' to start a family and restrictin' my matches to those between 38 and 53 was not even remotely returnin' people in which I would have been interested. I do thank Dean for suggestin' it, and I am almost sure it does work for most people. My situation is very unique, and it is one that only grows worse year by year. I, however, refuse to settle and will gladly live my remainin' years alone rather than choose to enter into a relationship that will not provide the family I so eagerly seek. I am about ready to just go donate a whole bunch of my damn swimmers at some sperm bank and hope. I mean I might not ever meet my descendants, but maybe I will have some. I can see my son now, raised by a nice lesbian couple, clean cut, intelligent, class president, valedictorian, first Libertarian President of the United Earth as well as the first openly gay one. I probably won't be around for that and would likely be unable to recognize him despite the close resemblance to my own gorgeous features. No matter all of that, I will state now how proud of him I would be if I only knew.
Now then, my daughter will be raised by a traditional man-woman couple, in vitro-fertilization yada yada, and heavy supporters of the NRA as well as gun nuts themselves, and my daughter turns out to be a naturally thin, stunningly beautiful and amazingly agile political assassin who ends up shootin' my son. She has no political affiliations of any kind other than supreme allegiance to the right to bear arms and use them at her pleasure, and commits this act only because she was paid to do so by some anti-gay faction from the former nation of Iran.
Of course, I also have not given up on my dream of just havin' myself cloned and raisin' myself. I think it is a wonderful idea. I have no idea what my navel's take on the idea is. My need to reproduce overrides my every concern for the welfare of my navel. I am almost sure I would readily sacrifice my navel for the well bein' of any off-spring that might arrive in my later years. Damn, now I am already feelin' down again. That sucks. I think I will go take a nice hot bath and stare at my navel for a bit. You would be surprised at how supremely relaxin' that can be. End of report.
Kathy Kinsley has only slightly questioned the authenticity of my picture in the corner. I wonder if she might well be right to question where such accurately represents how I appear. In all actuality, I look a lot more like THIS. Right Denita?
Today's strip had very little eye candy in it, and, as such, appears to be a bit lame, but, in my opinion, it made such a damnin' social statement that, as a member of USURP, I had no choice but to like it -- besides, Opus and dandelions -- classic!
Well, the blind date party was a bust, due mostly to the weather even though it all melted away during the day. Somehow, most of the females were worried about the forecast of 30% chance it would snow again tonight, so they decided it was too risky to show up. So, here we were, 20 males and 7 females, so 13 males had no dates. I happened to be one of the 13 and not one of the 7. It was done fairly, though, as we drew numbers out of the hat, and I came up with number 11. Then the 7 girls each drew a number out of the hat, and no one drew number 11. So, I hung around just long enough to put in a good show. I am pretty used to being a wallflower anyway, so it was not all that traumatic for me. Some of the other losers spent the night drinkin' up as much of the free* beer as they could. As I eschew drinkin' on most occasions, I decided since I was 90 minutes from home, it was probably a good idea that I stayed sober. It turned out, that was probably a good idea, because I was pretty drowsy during the drive home as it was, and I can imagine how much worst it would have been if I had spent the 2.5 hours I did stay at the party drinkin'.
So, me and my navel are home, safe and sound. We did not meet another navel tonight as we had hoped, but to tell you the truth, if the 7 gals that did show up were any indication of what the 13 who stayed home looked like, it is fairly easy to tell why none had a date for Valentine's Day already. Of course, the same could be said of all 20 males who showed up also, because, with the exception of myself,** they were about the ugliest bunch of guys in the universe.
My drowsiness has not worn off from my safe arrival, and this minor bloggin' excursion, so I am gonna go bury myself and my navel under two layers of goose down and go to sleep. Happy Valentine's Day, ya'll, and sorry to be so late is sayin' so, but one for one, I am sure all of ya'll have a better Valentine's Day than I did. The best thing that could absolutely be said for the day is that I did survive it without any problems. It was actually just another crudpy day like usual. End of report.
*It really wasn't free, as the entrance fee to the party was to pay for the beer, chips and crud, but some of those guys were so stupid, they really thought they were gettin' over by drinkin' as many cups of beer as they could.
**I may be the only one who thinks I am an exceptionally handsome guy, but my opinion is likely the only one that counts anyway, as no one else hardly ever gives me a second glance, anyway.
I awoke this morning to find that a severe blizzard blew through last night and dumped almost an inch of snow. I am tellin' ya, Texas looked more like Canada. I am waitin' on the snowplows to come clear the streets before I venture out.
. . . and hopefully will bring a whole pile of different crud with which to deal. Today's pile was an odoriferous lump of boredom. The weather was just yucky, cold, dreary and wet - hovering just at the freezing point. My phone hardly rang. I got nuthin' much of anythin' done, but then I was under the dark cloud of Friday the 13th all day. I survived the day, and almost perished from boredom while I tried to find something, anything to do* this evenin'. I shoulda blogged. I didn't. I am ashamed. Not much. I love you all - yes, even you.** My navel feels simply content that no disaster befell us this day. End of report.***
*It appears that even when you are as good lookin' as I am, it is not as easy to find an event involvin' wild monkey sex as you might think.
**No, that love does not extend to ya'll comment spammers. I have nuthin' but utter revulsion for your kind.
***Now even I am beginnin' to think we were better off when Cherry was doin' these reports.
I might have mentioned previously that I have been and still am a volunteer "expert" on http://www.allexperts.com/ on diet and nutrition. You might be surprised at some of the questions I get. Consider this one:
My name is Julian and I am currently slightly overweigh, by twenty pounds. I'm 5'10" and weigh about 205 lbs. I have been exercising for a couple of weeks, but my diet has been poor somewhat. I don't eat meat or chicken that much because I'm not a fan of them. However, I eat foods that are loaded in carbs. I also love eating all kinds of fish. I'm 30 years old and of south american descent. I would like to know how long I will live if I start getting fit now. I want to live a very long time and I would like to know if it's not to late to change my ways. How long am I expected to live if I do this?
Now, you have a serious of radio buttons you can pick so as to handle the questions you get:
- Answer this question or request more information.
- Sorry, this is outside my expertise OR I simply can't help with that.
- This question is too long and involved for me to help with.
- This is a rude, non-serious question.
- This is one followup too many.
- I don't do homework questions.
- Send me an e-mail of this question so I can consider this further.
- Send questioner a "you're welcome" note.
- This is a duplicate question. Use this option to deal with duplicate questions.
- There is no question here.
- I can't answer this with custom rejection message.
Now the first selection is if you actually want to field the question, and the remainder are ways to blow the questioner off in some way or another without a personalized response. I have rarely ever used any of the selections other than the first (and the one dealing with duplicate questions when applicable), because even if one of the other options actually fits, I feel the questioner, at the very least, unless it is obvious they were just being an ass, deserves a personalized response. I guess I do assist with homework questions, because I have been known to supply a few URLs and search terms to some people who seem to be lookin' for homework assistance. So, you have seen Julian's question. How do you think I answered him?
There is no way anyone can answer that question. Access to and advancement in medical technology makes such impossible, but I will give you this answer from what I have learned from my wife's death from complications due to her being anorexic for 15 to 16 years at the end of her life. No matter what you eat, you will live longer than if you don't eat.
Terence A. Russell
I suspect that is about as truthful as anyone could answer that question.
Here's a quickie for ya'll before I go crawl back under the bed:
A couple with three children waited in line at San Francisco's Pier 41 to purchase tickets for a boat trip to Alcatraz.
Others watched with varying degrees of sympathy and irritation as the young children fidgeted, whined, and punched one another. The frazzled parents reprimanded them to no avail.
Finally they reached the ticket window. "Five tickets, please," the father said. "Two round trip, three one way."
Thanks to George* for this one.
Your Friday horoscope, Taurus! -There is a little too much work to be done for you to take it easy, but not so much that you cannot enjoy things along the way. Smile and cosmic energy will double in your favor.
Well, so much for me not getting out of bed today, as is my traditional action on Friday the 13th ever since I lost the best car I ever had in an accident on a Friday the 13th a few years ago. I just shudder when I think of goin' anywhere on a day like today on a date like today.*
*I suppose if I had to get out to attend some event involvin' wild monkey sex, I might feel it was a risk worth takin'.
So ya'll prefer the mild stylin's of Cherry over my mundane drivelin', huh? Well, after spotlightin' my sweet adorable blog child these last couple of days, I figured it was about time I bared my navel for ya'll again. You know what's the hardest thing about not bloggin' endlessly during the day? Nothin'! I find that I have so many other things that I really need to be doin', which I am continually neglectin' to get done, that devotin' time to anythin' that is not accomplishin' much other than wastin' my extremely valuable time, is counterproductive. I work so very hard to maintain my just not productive position in life, so work very very hard not to slip into any counterproductive mold. Hey, I don't understand what I just wrote either. I read it two or three times and still am not sure I completely understand what I said. fork! No wonder no one reads this blog. [I really didn't need to say fork, did I? OK, let me have my fork back, please?]*
Yeah, I bared my navel for the gut cut, ya'll. Go ahead and shove that knife in - put the blogosphere out of its misery by cuttin' the thorn that is ***: Raggin' & Rantin' outta it's side. Ya know ya wanna! End of report.
*Can ya really ever successfully take a fork back?
JOU HAVE YUST RECEIVED A MEHICAN[**] BIRUS!!!!! SINCE WE NOT SO TECHNOLOGICALLY ADBANCED IN MEHICO, DIS IS A MANUAL BIRUS. PLEASE DELETE ALL THE FILES ON JOUR HARD DRIVE JOURSELF AND SEND THIS E-MAIL TO EBERYONE JOU KNOW. TANK JOU POR YELPING ME.
JULIO MANUEL JOSE RODIRGUEZ GARCIA MEXICAN HACKER
*OK, OK, I admit I deleted about a million carets from the forwarding of this until it got to me.
**My sincerest apologies to our Southern neighbors for the blatant political incorrectness of my use of this message, but just think how much less traumatic to your people this is than the rumor runnin' 'round Southern California that people in your country actually invented bean sprout and tofu tacos.
I just got this email that said "Make Your PC Fly" in the subject line, and I thought, yeah, toss it out the window. Now aren't you glad you took the time to read that?
Although I think that maybe I should have written; Unwell here I am again...
I currently feel like a pincushion, having spent too much time at the hospital today being poked and prodded.
Terry is asleep, which explains why I am here, although I am here no longer for I must go.
New Boots . . .
An elderly couple, Ray and Bessie, are "snowbirds" in Texas. Ray always wanted a pair of authentic cowboy boots. Seeing some on sale one day, he buys them, wears them home, walking proudly. He walks into the house and says to his wife: "Notice anything different about me?"
Bessie looks him over, "Nope."
Frustrated Ray storms off into the bathroom, undresses, and walks back into the room completely naked except for the boots. Again, he asks, a little louder this time, "Notice anything DIFFERENT NOW?"
Bessie looks up and says, "Ray, what's different? It's hanging down today, it was hanging down yesterday, it'll be hanging down again tomorrow.
Furious, Ray yells, "AND DO YOU KNOW WHY IT IS HANGING DOWN, BESSIE? IT'S HANGING DOWN BECAUSE IT'S LOOKING AT MY NEW BOOTS!!"
To which Bessie replies, "Shoulda bought a hat, Ray. Shoulda bought a hat."
(Cherry)This is a direct result of a lack of imagination on Tig's part... Having no ideas about what to write in his Navel Report, he comes to me for advice...(/Cherry)
cheriecherry3: Terry!!! :)
cheriecherry3: I have msn back!
cheriecherry3: *dances* :D
teabagiii: I am so glad
teabagiii: I was just going to bed and saw you on here and wanted to say HI
cheriecherry3: me too :)
teabagiii: post something on my blog for me
cheriecherry3: like what???
cheriecherry3: (now that I can see it) :-s
cheriecherry3: My Mac has been having issues...
teabagiii: I don't know, tell everyone I am fine and hoping that I won the big lottery jackpot
cheriecherry3: my comment the other day was the first time I've been able to read it all year :(
teabagiii: my blog?
teabagiii: I am so confused, you ought not do this too me when I am so close to falling asleep in my chair
cheriecherry3: Mac glitch :(
cheriecherry3: I'm on a PC now :)
teabagiii: I am on a stone tablet
cheriecherry3: *giggles* so why do you want me to post?
teabagiii: It was a pain in the rear to connect to the internet, though
teabagiii: mainly because I don't have anything interesting to share
teabagiii: scroll back and it will make sense, grasshopper
cheriecherry3: a stone tablet?
teabagiii: wasn't that funny?
cheriecherry3: grasshopper? :P
cheriecherry3: better than hobbit I guess...
teabagiii: old TV show called Kung Fu
teabagiii: you could never be a Hobbit
teabagiii: You are too elvish to grow hair on your feet
teabagiii: maybe I could post this whole conversation into my blog and let that be my Nightly Navel Gazin' Report
teabagiii: I would, however, have to fit something about navels in this conversation, would I not?
cheriecherry3: a lot of people say I look elvish!?!
cheriecherry3: you could!?! if you were really desperate :P
teabagiii: And I did think your navel looked especially elvish
teabagiii: and I am going to assume that it still does
teabagiii: it would be different, would it not?
cheriecherry3: *shhhh... nobody is supposed to know it was me... :P
teabagiii: and I did get something about navels in there, did I not
teabagiii: I am a crafty fellow, if nothing else
cheriecherry3: actually, I've lost a lot of weight... (not that I had any to lose!?!)
teabagiii: hey, now, you don't need to be developing an eating disorder
teabagiii: I already lost one of the loves of my life that way, I surely don't want to lose another
cheriecherry3: it's not an eating disorder...
teabagiii: then what it is?
cheriecherry3: I've just been doing a lot more running and tennissing recently :)
teabagiii: and not eating sufficiently to fulfill your needs?
cheriecherry3: I'm not gonna have time to post anything tonight... we're going very soon...
teabagiii: OK, I am gonna be forced to post this conversation then
cheriecherry3: no no... I'm just fitter now, and the slight excess? I guess has gone :)
teabagiii: all of my best stuff for the day is contained here
cheriecherry3: I might come in and edit it later :P
teabagiii: You do have that privilege
cheriecherry3: how are ya? :)
cheriecherry3: haven't heard from you in a while...
cheriecherry3: (and you always hide) :P
teabagiii: I have been using one of my other yahoo ids here lately
teabagiii: you are soft
teabagiii: don't let go
cheriecherry3: *shakes head and giggles*
teabagiii: I am so tired
teabagiii: I need to go to bed
cheriecherry3: well, use your msn one occasionally, huh? :)
teabagiii: I will do so
cheriecherry3: I probably won't be on here again :)
teabagiii: I promise
cheriecherry3: so go already :P
cheriecherry3: Sweet Dreams Terry :)
teabagiii: I hardly ever use yahoo anyway except when I needed to use it so as to talk to you while hiding
teabagiii: can I post this conversation?
cheriecherry3: hmm... most of it I guess... :P
cheriecherry3: Then get some sleep sweetie :)
teabagiii: OK what parts can't I use?
teabagiii: you are leaving me in the lurch here?
cheriecherry3: I don't know... I'm sure you won't post anything to insane :P
cheriecherry3: me? :O
cheriecherry3: lol I thought you were going to bed :P
teabagiii: I might post something to insane, but I won't post anything too insane
cheriecherry3: nah, actually, I was doing some work on the other computer :)
cheriecherry3: Deletes 486MB of trash...
teabagiii: I am an ass, forget that
cheriecherry3: has a faster computer :P
teabagiii: I need a good laptop
cheriecherry3: no you're not... you're a sweetie :)
teabagiii: don't make me blush
teabagiii: I am gonna post this just exactly like it is
cheriecherry3: I need a good laptop too... when you find one, you'll send it over, right? :P
teabagiii: it is oozing with love and sickly sweet stuff
cheriecherry3: righto... I'll be over to edit it tomorrow...
teabagiii: you have a good laptop already, and just wish my head was laying in it
cheriecherry3: just so people don't see how insane I can really be :P
cheriecherry3: *idiot* :P
teabagiii: who are you calling an idiot?
teabagiii: I resemble that remark
cheriecherry3: going home now...
cheriecherry3: later tater :)
cheriecherry3: (as a wise man once said) :P
cheriecherry3: get some sleep :)
teabagiii: as soon as you are gone, I will tuck my navel in bed and end this report
Hey, here it is, way after midnight, and why? Well because as it got closer and closer to the time I really need to go to bed, I find there was several different people contactin' me about this and that. I wish it was about me winnin' the lottery or somethin', but nope. Still, things are lookin' up a bit. Here is hopin' that Michele is over her sickness and with a clear mind, maybe she will reread my post and come up with a different opinion, but whether she does or she doesn't, it makes no difference. I am over my snit regardin' that minor inane incident, but still am findin' it hard to spend as much time bloggin' as I used to do, as I am tryin' hard to make a few changes in my life. Quittin' smokin' was a big step, findin' the money to fix my teeth is the next step, so as I am workin' hard to sell this and that to raise the money, I will be doin' what is important for me, and I apologize to my readers for neglectin' their needs. But, in the end, isn't takin' care of my navel the most important thing I could ever do? As it seems to want so badly to have another navel to rub against, surely I should do everthin' in my power to satisfy such need, don't ya think? Well, I do need to get to bed, so I am gonna have to end this report. Seems like the same ol' story every night here lately, huh? End of report.
Renée Zellweger was nominated for her role in Cold Mountain. I told you she deserved the award for that role, remember? Of course, it did not draw the number of nominations some people, includin' myself, thought it should have gotten. Still, Renée is the cutest thing with breasts on the planet, so I am ecstatic that she got the recognition she deserved, 'specially after havin' been passed over for playin' Roxie!, the dazzlin' jazz dreamin' murderess in last year's Best Picture winner, Chicago. It is so funny that the only reason I bought Chicago was because it won the Best Picture award, and, as some of ya'll know, I am only about 6 or 7 movies short of owning all of the Best Picture winners. I had not seen it theatrically, because it was a musical and I usually am not that fond of musicals. However, as I bought it, I watched it, and I have now watched it more times that any movie in my collection. It is definitely among my all time favorite moves now. A lot has to do with Renée Zellweger, but there is also the fact that all the music is jazz and I love jazz, and it is a good roarin' twenties situation, an era a jazz lover like me is fascinated about, all the actin' was superb, and the costumes were fabulous. It is definitely one of the Best Movies of all time, and despite the fact that I pulled for LOTR last year, as I had the year before, I do think the right movie won last year --- now! Renée Zellweger deserves the award this year, academy --- are ya listenin'?
I have always been a big fan of dream scenes in the comics. The imagination of Calvin was my favorite part of Calvin & Hobbes, not only the way way Calvin saw Hobbes as a playful Tiger who jumped on him and such, whereas the rest of the world only saw a stuffed ****, but the things that went on in his mind. I used to especially like the characterization of his teacher when he was dreamin' of bein' Spiff, flyin' all over the universe. Well, today's Opus is again centered around a dream scene in Opus's head, just like the initial episode. I liked it. I liked it a lot, thankfully, because I am still not over the confusion surroundin' last week's strip.
*Of course, with Hobbes bein' a ***, you might have some idea there was another reason I liked the strip, huh?
Hey ya'll, the navel is havin' a great time. I am in Ft. Worth in some coffee shop. I came up here to go to some bar a friend of mine suggested. Yes, there were a lot of attractive sexy gals around, but it was way too smoky, I don't like drinking that much, I don't dance, so I stayed for a bit, caught no one's attention that I was interested in, so I left. In fact, the only person who seemed to have any interest in me at all was some guy who kept looking at the middle of my stomach or somethin'. I am pretty sure I know what he had on his mind. I think he was wantin' to lick my navel? What do ya'll think. Gotta go, the place is closin' down. End of report.
Here it is Friday night and I am dead tired at 11:00 pm when I do not have to get up early tomorrow, but all week long I was staying up until 1:00 or 2:00 am nearly every night and having to get up at 6:30 am. Now what exactly is wrong with this picture? I suppose it is that it has nothing to do with my navel and yet is the subject of this report. As such, maybe I should just end it, huh? OK. End of Report.
The Deaf Bookkeeper
A Mafia Godfather finds out that his bookkeeper has screwed him for ten million bucks.
This bookkeeper happens to be deaf, so the Godfather brings along his attorney, who knows sign language. The Godfather asks the bookkeeper: "Where is the 10 million bucks you embezzled from me?" The attorney, using sign language, asks the bookkeeper where the 10 million dollars is hidden.
The bookkeeper signs back: "I don't know what you are talking about." The attorney tells the Godfather: "He says he doesn't know what you're talking about."
That's when the Godfather pulls out a 9 mm pistol, puts it to the bookkeeper's temple, cocks it and says: "Ask him again! The attorney signs to the underling: "He'll kill you for sure if you don't tell him!"
The bookkeeper signs back: "OK! You win! The money is in a brown briefcase, buried behind the shed in my cousin Enzo's backyard in Queens!"
The Godfather asks the attorney: "Well, what'd he say?"
The attorney replies: "He says you don't have the balls to pull the trigger."
and ya'll thought that just because I forgot to post the Nightly Navel Gazin' Report™, I was gonna forget the Friday Funny™ too? I almost did.
Ordering Pizza in 2009
Operator: "Thank you for calling Pizza Hut. May I have your national ID number?"
Customer: "Hi, I'd like to place an order."
Operator: "May I have your NIDN first, sir?"
Customer: "My National ID Number, yeah, hold on, eh, it's 6102049998-45-54610."
Operator: "Thank you, Mr. Sheehan. I see you live at 1742 Meadowland Dr., and the phone number's 494-2366. Your office number over at Lincoln Insurance is 745-2302 and your cell number's 266-2566. Which are you calling from, sir?"
Customer: "Huh? I'm at home. Where d'ya get all this information?"
Operator: "We're wired into the system, sir."
Customer: (Sighs) "Oh, well, I'd like to order a couple of your All-Meat Special pizzas."
Operator: "I don't think that's a good idea, sir."
Customer: "Whaddya mean?"
Operator: "Sir, your medical records indicate that you've got very high blood pressure and extremely high cholesterol. Your National Health Care provider won't allow such an unhealthy choice."
Customer: What do you recommend, then?"
Operator: "You might try our low-fat Soybean Pizza. I'm sure you'll like it."
Customer: "What makes you think I'd like something like that?"
Operator: "Well, you checked out 'Gourmet Soybean Recipes' from your local library last week, sir. That's why I made the suggestion."
Customer: "All right, all right. Give me two family-sized ones, then."
Operator: "That should be plenty for you, your wife and your four kids, sir. Your total is $49.99."
Customer: "Lemme give you my credit card number."
Operator: "I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid you'll have to pay in cash. Your credit card balance is over its limit."
Customer: "I'll run over to the ATM and get some cash before your driver gets here."
Operator: "That won't work either, sir. Your checking account's overdrawn."
Customer: "Never mind. Just send the pizzas. I'll have the cash ready. How long will it take?"
Operator: "We're running a little behind, sir. It'll be about 45 minutes, sir. If you're in a hurry you might want to pick 'em up while you're out getting the cash, but carrying pizzas on a motorcycle can be a little awkward"
Customer: "How the hell do you know I'm riding a bike?"
Operator: "It says here you're in arrears on your car payments, so your car got repo'ed. But your Harley's paid up."
Operator: "I'd advise watching your language, sir. You've already got a July 2006 conviction for cussing out a cop."
Operator: "Will there be anything else, sir?"
Customer: "Yes, I have a coupon for a free 2 liter of Coke."
Operator: "I'm sorry sir, but our ad's exclusionary clause prevents us from offering free soda to diabetics."
A woman was shopping at her local supermarket where she selected:
a half-gallon of 2% milk,
a carton of eggs,
a quart of orange juice,
a head of romaine lettuce,
a 2 lb. can of coffee,
and a 1 lb. package of bacon.
As she was unloading her items on the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind her watched as she placed the items in front of the cashier. While the cashier was ringing up her purchases, the drunk calmly stated, "You must be single." The woman was a bit startled by this proclamation, but she was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since she was indeed single. She looked at her six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about her selections that could have tipped off the drunk to her marital status.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she said "Well, you know what, you're absolutely correct. But how on earth did you know that?"
The drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."
To Get More Exercise and My New Schedule
Beat around the bush.
Jump to conclusions.
Climb the walls.
Wade through paperwork.
Drag my heels.
Push my luck.
Make mountains out of mole hills.
Hit the nail on the head.
Bend over backwards.
Jump on the band wagon.
Balance the books.
Run around in circles.
Toot my own horn.
Climb the ladder of success.
Pull out the stops.
Add fuel to the fire.
Open a can of worms.
Put my foot in my mouth.
Start the ball rolling.
Go over the edge.
Pick up the pieces.
Whew! What a workout!
I authorized any of you to use this program, and to pass it along to others whose physicians may have recommended an exercise regimen.
I had a horrible day and really do not feel like talking about it. I am sorry I have not had all that much to say here lately. I have no good excuse for it other than life sucks, but ya'll already knew that, didn't ya? End of Report.
Yep, it was cold, I had to work, I got very little done, waited all day at the office for one phone call. I thought I had somewhere to go after work, got there and found I was wrong, this was the Democrat's meeting. The Republican meeting is on Thursday. It is still cold, I need to go to bed, I have to awaken again in the morning to do just about the same thing I did today. I wish I had something more important to write about, but nothing comes to mind. I want to thank all of you who are still coming around despite my mood and my dearth of posting. That does really mean a lot to me. My navel is awaiting the chance to be under the goosedown, so I guess I had better do my job to make it happy. More tomorrow, I hope. All fo ya'll have a great evening, day or whatever until the next time. End of report.
Let me see, the first anniversary of the Columbia explosion has come and gone, and I did not blog about such nor even noticed if anyone else did. I think everyone likely had a memory or two about that day pass through their minds at some point, so nothing was missed because I did not blog on it. Lots of people were killed in Iraq this last week, and I didn't blog about it, but then I usually really don't blog about the war, as the subject is covered much more extensively in so many other fine blogs. I didn't blog on the Super Bowl, or the travesty that occurred at the halftime show, an event that is neither worth the mention that it got nor all that alarming. Appalling it was, but then so much of everything around me seems so damn appalling - with no one is any longer seriously taking responsibility to act civilized and show some respect for public decency. In the grand scheme of events, that scenario will not be remembered any longer than that damn kiss on the Emmy Awards. That's entertainment of the 21st Century: sex and sleaze has gone mainstream. Complacency leads to decadence, decadence leads to destruction of the fabric of society. That one inane moment in the middle of the Super Bowl was just another chink in the chain of events that is leading to the eventual downfall of the United States. It might not happen tomorrow, but it is coming. Tittie, tittie, tittie - as if a navel is not sufficient to show the delectability of the human body? It's insane, it's utterly inane. End of report.
[UPDATE: Found something in my SPAM that I think I want to use to begin my wishlist. I think it is a title to a video that I would love to have in my collection: 'DirtyGIRLs Down0nTheFarm'. -that is an actual cut&paste from the subject line of the message.]
Ha! You just thought there was something here. Well, there is! It just isn't much. End of report.
I am not sure I got a handle on what the strip was about today. Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus, or women love women because men are gross. I will let ya'll decide. Hopefully, next week, I won't be so far in the dark, provided next week comes around. The world could end before then, huh? ;)