~ Papa Oom Mow Mow an' his'n family lived up yon'er in dem hills in Blue Holler, 'bout a mile or so from ol' man Wynott's place. No one ever often went a visitin' up dere. Folks in de hills are a right neighborly sort, an' when dey come a visitin', dey feel obliged to bring along some token of frien'ship. But Papa and his clan tweren' rich an' all. Dey didn't have much dats not insultin' to be brung for a visitin'. So's he jest didn't go. What vittles dey did have was fer dere own consumption.
~ Now Papa lived up der wid Mama and Baby, 'ceptin' Baby wuz dern near thirty years old. Some times dey wud sit fer a spell on da porch an' stirs up some ruckus of der own makin'. You see Papa wuz a banjo pickin' man from way back. Mama, she liked to join in on da warshboard. If'n Baby had da gumption an' was so inclined, he'd go an' pull out his Jew's harp from da pocket of his bib o'eralls. A mixin' wid all dat, Ol' Zeke would wag his'n broke tail again' the screen door, 'cept the screen done been missin' fer a long time. Zeke was da best dadgum blood houn' in the whole county.
~ Well, all da folks down b'low dem cud be a sittin' fer hours a listenin' to da music from the Mow Mow's place. Bye 'n bye, somes of dem wud go an' get dere banjos and spoons and trek up'n da hill to join in fer whut wud sure turn into a dad-blasted hoe-down.
~ It tweren't long afore word of de music comin' down from up yon'er wuz a spreadin' from holler to holler an' hillside to darn near every crick aroun'. An' one day da folks in dat li'l town down dere wuz a hearin' of de music too. Dang if'n dem town folk didn't start comin' up dere too. Dey say that one day dere wuz dern near a hunnert people up dere to listen to de mountain music.
~ Well afore long dere did come a stranger from somewhere north. Someone said he wuz a city slicker from Charleston. Ol' lady Drennan said she done been dere once or trice. She came to be famous coz she done seen the capital of ol' Wes' Virginnie. An' my, you shuda seen da looks she's wuz a gettin' when she told dem 'bout buildins bigger dan dem barns down in Kelly Bottom. Theys wuz a oohin' an' aahin' 'bout such a big buildin'.
~ Anyways, dis feller he come up dere one day. Someone said he had a fancy motor car dat he'd done drove here. Dey all knew dat you cannot be a bringin' no fancy car upon Mow Mow mountain. Cozin' dey wud get stuck in all dat clay mud. Dis feller had some schoolin', maybe the sixth or seventh grade, Hershel Elmore had reckoned. So's he knew 'nough to be bringin' somethin' wid him. Now the Mow Mows and all de rest of da folks had ne'er seen so much vittles afore. An' he sure showed some know-rights to be bringin' some fried chicken. Well dese folks had ne'er seen seen da likes of dat bucket with a Southern ol' man's picture on it. De city-slicker said it wuz some of dat Kaintucky chicken. "Well, hells bells," said Papa. "I didn't know dose rednecks knew how to cook."
~ Tweren't long a fore the banjos, warshboards, mouth harps and spoons wuz a playin' a hell of a good time on de folks ears. Well that city slicker musta knowed his music, coz faster than you say lickety-split, dat feller goes and offers Papa a check dat he calls a royal-tee. Seems he wuz a payin' Papa so's he could rent his full name. Said he wuz a gonna use da name in a song dat wud soon be a playin' on da radio. He also said dat as long as da song wuz a bein' bot by people, da checks dey'd a keep comin'. Well wid all dat scratch a comin' in, Papa started to become one of dem benefactors. Pretty soon he wuz a helpin out da folks up in da hills. An, don't you know it, Papa went an' tol' da city slicker 'bout some of his kinfolk who lived on dat hill over dere. Dere wuz de Do Wah Ditty Ditty's an' de Ramma Lamma Ding Dongs. An' don't you know, Papa done get some more checks for dat. Papa said da feller said dey was finders fees.
~ Well da rest is history as dey say. Pretty soon da whole United States wuz a buyin' Surfer Bird by some fellers dat called demselves da Fenderman. Some of his'n kin one day said he shud get away from dere since he done got all dat money. "Magine me in Beverly Hills, ooh doggies," Papa said. An' he gets in touch wid dat feller again' an' asked him what he thought about a bunch of hillbillies movin' out to Californie. Wells dat led to some more checks. Seems like everythin' Papa wud say wud turn into some money.
~ Well Papa, Mama, and Baby did up an' move one day. But dat is anudder story fer anudder day.
~
No. 61
Monday, February 28, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Oscar Grouch
~ This is neither an attack against Sesame Street nor an affront to Oscar the Grouch. Indeed, I kind of like Oscar and his trash can way of life. I suppose I would be grouchy too if I lived in a cramped trash can.
~ I can however, get grouchy about the trash dished out at the Academy Awards ceremony. While I am no film critic, and I don't claim to be, I do know what I like. I do not like the glitzy fashion extravaganza of the grand entrances that gets almost as much attention as the awards themselves. Joan Rivers and that puppy dog daughter might revel in what the stars are wearing, but they should stand in front of the mirror before showing up and realize that "dowdy" is not in. Wake up people, it's just another awards show!
~ If I didn't become grouchy by the lemming-like exits from the limousines, maybe I'd be better prepared for the assault on my intelligence by the so-called acceptance speeches. Roget's Thesaurus offers up for speech such synonyms as discourse, chatter, address, articulating and talk. If I may, I'll offer up a few more: rambling, babbling, or blathering. Unfortunately actors and actresses have turned their opportunity to thank whoever helped them get there into a forum to express their political views. In the past there was Fonda's anti-war cause, and Redgrave's tirade against anti-semitism. Of note more recently was the blathering of Michael Moore. He cannot separate facts from fiction in his films, so how are we to respect his political views? One could almost, I repeat almost feel sorry for the pathetic buffoonery regurgitated by Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon. Wake up people, it's just another awards show.
~ It isn't about the dresses the actresses are wearing and almost wearing. It isn't about Joan and her puppy. It certainly isn't about who designed this or that. These are Arnold's little girlie men who design clothes they wish they could wear themselves. It may come as a shock to those in the audience and those watching at home, but there is an awards show that is supposed to be the main attraction.
~ To those of you who are actually going to watch, if that is your cup of tea I hope you enjoy it. As for me I am going to watch a movie marathon. Back to back to back they are running Waterworld, The Postman,and Battlefield Earth. While you are mesmerized by gowns by GitchieGoo or whomever, I have nuked some popcorn, iced up some mugs for frosties, and settled in my recliner. I just love oscar night!
~ Wake up people, it's just another awards show!
No. 60
~ I can however, get grouchy about the trash dished out at the Academy Awards ceremony. While I am no film critic, and I don't claim to be, I do know what I like. I do not like the glitzy fashion extravaganza of the grand entrances that gets almost as much attention as the awards themselves. Joan Rivers and that puppy dog daughter might revel in what the stars are wearing, but they should stand in front of the mirror before showing up and realize that "dowdy" is not in. Wake up people, it's just another awards show!
~ If I didn't become grouchy by the lemming-like exits from the limousines, maybe I'd be better prepared for the assault on my intelligence by the so-called acceptance speeches. Roget's Thesaurus offers up for speech such synonyms as discourse, chatter, address, articulating and talk. If I may, I'll offer up a few more: rambling, babbling, or blathering. Unfortunately actors and actresses have turned their opportunity to thank whoever helped them get there into a forum to express their political views. In the past there was Fonda's anti-war cause, and Redgrave's tirade against anti-semitism. Of note more recently was the blathering of Michael Moore. He cannot separate facts from fiction in his films, so how are we to respect his political views? One could almost, I repeat almost feel sorry for the pathetic buffoonery regurgitated by Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon. Wake up people, it's just another awards show.
~ It isn't about the dresses the actresses are wearing and almost wearing. It isn't about Joan and her puppy. It certainly isn't about who designed this or that. These are Arnold's little girlie men who design clothes they wish they could wear themselves. It may come as a shock to those in the audience and those watching at home, but there is an awards show that is supposed to be the main attraction.
~ To those of you who are actually going to watch, if that is your cup of tea I hope you enjoy it. As for me I am going to watch a movie marathon. Back to back to back they are running Waterworld, The Postman,and Battlefield Earth. While you are mesmerized by gowns by GitchieGoo or whomever, I have nuked some popcorn, iced up some mugs for frosties, and settled in my recliner. I just love oscar night!
~ Wake up people, it's just another awards show!
No. 60
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Lip Synching Mimes
~ I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later. In a revelation that is sure to shake the entertainment industry to its foundation, it was learned that mimes have been lip synching. Even as this story was breaking, many professional mimics have reportedly been seeking legal counsel. Many entertainment critics have voiced concern that this could be the death knell of this time honored genre.
~ When reached at home by phone, Marcel Marceau had no comment. The popular mime duo of the 60s, Shields and Yarnell were said to have only shrugged when confronted by journalists. At subway stations and city parks across the nation, the absence of these performers was all to apparent.
~ This is not the first time that lip synching has become an issue in the entertainment world. The most noted case was that of Manilli Vanilli, caught lip synching in a sold out concert. The real shockwaves however, was the fact that their voices were dubbed on their recordings. It seems our two boys couldn't sing! That in and of itself isn't shocking, as there have been many recording artists who couldn't sing. (sic Ashlee Simpson)
~ Even as the pall of Lip-synch Gate was spreading through reports around the country, sound and voice experts have begun reviewing countless recordings of mimics from the vaults and archives of prominent studios. Poring over literally thousands of miles of tapes and mountains of recordings, these experts are looking for any evidence that the mimes can actually talk.
~ This would quite tragically destroy the fame of these artists and forever taint the art itself. The very existence of the art of miming has been dependent on audiences marveling at the skills of those voiceless people. They have been held in awe as have blind and deaf recording artists.
~ If a mime could talk, then it would be supposed that their routines had been acted out by stand-ins or body doubles. Their clown-like painted faces would make the perfect cover for someone else to pose as them. A critic, who wished to remain anonymous, has suggested that the Mel Brooks film Silent Movie should be studied closely. It has been well documented that only Mel Brooks' genius could get the famous Marcel Marceau to speak the only words in the entire film. Audiences reveled in the irony, and always wondered whose voiced was dubbed. Now the question has to be asked, did Marcel actually speak those lines? The horror of it all!
~ The avalanche of controversy hasn't ended with just recording artists and mimes. There are rumors that investigations have been launched into the realm of animation. What if it turned out that Mr. Magoo spoke his own lines? The legacy of Jim Backus would be tarnished. What about Mel Blanc? Or Daws Butler? Or Frank Oz?
~ The reverberations of Lip-Synch Gate will have far reaching effects. Will entertainment ever be the same? Lest you subject yourself to investigation, please don't shrug, shake your head or nod. Speak up. Silence is not golden.
~
~No. 59
~ When reached at home by phone, Marcel Marceau had no comment. The popular mime duo of the 60s, Shields and Yarnell were said to have only shrugged when confronted by journalists. At subway stations and city parks across the nation, the absence of these performers was all to apparent.
~ This is not the first time that lip synching has become an issue in the entertainment world. The most noted case was that of Manilli Vanilli, caught lip synching in a sold out concert. The real shockwaves however, was the fact that their voices were dubbed on their recordings. It seems our two boys couldn't sing! That in and of itself isn't shocking, as there have been many recording artists who couldn't sing. (sic Ashlee Simpson)
~ Even as the pall of Lip-synch Gate was spreading through reports around the country, sound and voice experts have begun reviewing countless recordings of mimics from the vaults and archives of prominent studios. Poring over literally thousands of miles of tapes and mountains of recordings, these experts are looking for any evidence that the mimes can actually talk.
~ This would quite tragically destroy the fame of these artists and forever taint the art itself. The very existence of the art of miming has been dependent on audiences marveling at the skills of those voiceless people. They have been held in awe as have blind and deaf recording artists.
~ If a mime could talk, then it would be supposed that their routines had been acted out by stand-ins or body doubles. Their clown-like painted faces would make the perfect cover for someone else to pose as them. A critic, who wished to remain anonymous, has suggested that the Mel Brooks film Silent Movie should be studied closely. It has been well documented that only Mel Brooks' genius could get the famous Marcel Marceau to speak the only words in the entire film. Audiences reveled in the irony, and always wondered whose voiced was dubbed. Now the question has to be asked, did Marcel actually speak those lines? The horror of it all!
~ The avalanche of controversy hasn't ended with just recording artists and mimes. There are rumors that investigations have been launched into the realm of animation. What if it turned out that Mr. Magoo spoke his own lines? The legacy of Jim Backus would be tarnished. What about Mel Blanc? Or Daws Butler? Or Frank Oz?
~ The reverberations of Lip-Synch Gate will have far reaching effects. Will entertainment ever be the same? Lest you subject yourself to investigation, please don't shrug, shake your head or nod. Speak up. Silence is not golden.
~
~No. 59
Bruno: No to Hall of Fame
~ For the second time, the professional wrestling hall of fame has come knocking. Once again he slammed the door in their faces.
~ Once, he was the undisputed king of professional wrestling. In the 60s he and his peers packed such hallowed arenas as the Boston Garden and The Madison Square Garden. The names of he and his peers are virtually unknown to the wrestling fans of today.
~ There are some of us who do remember the likes of Chief Jay Strongbow, Ivan Putski, Baron Scicluna, Haystack Calhoun, Stan "The Man" Stasiak, Lou Albano, and of course George "The Animal" Steele. Yes, before Cyndi Lauper had him in her video, and before he managed, he was a wrestler.
~ The unquestioned king of the ring, however, was one Bruno Sammartino. Professional wrestling today is an R-rated theater. Sure, it was theater back then too, but there was a marked difference.
~ "You never heard vulgar language from the wrestlers then," said the 69 year old Sammartino from his Pittsburgh home shortly after he had rejected his second offer from the hall of fame.
~ "I have completely divorced myself from the wrestling world," he explained. "I don't believe in it. I would wonder where my principles are if I accepted." The reasons for his divorce from the sport that made him rich and famous are that it has become a drug culture and it has shameless disregard for its young fans. These young fans' senses are assailed with profanity and sexual exploitation.
~ Vince's father ran the show back then and built himself a tidy fortune. Bruno and his ring buddies and foes also were well taken care of, earning nesteggs of their own.
~ This isn't Vince's father's wrestling today. Vince has turned his father's baby into a multi-million dollar juggernaut. The purses are richer now, the stakes are higher, and the audiences are considerably larger.
~ Among those fans however, you'll never see a certain former wrestling champion. Somewhere they are trying to remove their hall of fame from a certain place that the sun never shines, compliments from Bruno Sammartino.
~
Bruno Sammartino's quotes above were taken from an article by Joe Fitzgerald of the Boston Herald dated Feb.26, 2005.
~
No. 58
~ Once, he was the undisputed king of professional wrestling. In the 60s he and his peers packed such hallowed arenas as the Boston Garden and The Madison Square Garden. The names of he and his peers are virtually unknown to the wrestling fans of today.
~ There are some of us who do remember the likes of Chief Jay Strongbow, Ivan Putski, Baron Scicluna, Haystack Calhoun, Stan "The Man" Stasiak, Lou Albano, and of course George "The Animal" Steele. Yes, before Cyndi Lauper had him in her video, and before he managed, he was a wrestler.
~ The unquestioned king of the ring, however, was one Bruno Sammartino. Professional wrestling today is an R-rated theater. Sure, it was theater back then too, but there was a marked difference.
~ "You never heard vulgar language from the wrestlers then," said the 69 year old Sammartino from his Pittsburgh home shortly after he had rejected his second offer from the hall of fame.
~ "I have completely divorced myself from the wrestling world," he explained. "I don't believe in it. I would wonder where my principles are if I accepted." The reasons for his divorce from the sport that made him rich and famous are that it has become a drug culture and it has shameless disregard for its young fans. These young fans' senses are assailed with profanity and sexual exploitation.
~ Vince's father ran the show back then and built himself a tidy fortune. Bruno and his ring buddies and foes also were well taken care of, earning nesteggs of their own.
~ This isn't Vince's father's wrestling today. Vince has turned his father's baby into a multi-million dollar juggernaut. The purses are richer now, the stakes are higher, and the audiences are considerably larger.
~ Among those fans however, you'll never see a certain former wrestling champion. Somewhere they are trying to remove their hall of fame from a certain place that the sun never shines, compliments from Bruno Sammartino.
~
Bruno Sammartino's quotes above were taken from an article by Joe Fitzgerald of the Boston Herald dated Feb.26, 2005.
~
No. 58
Getting To First Base
The following lists below are just a collection of factoids not large enough to merit a blog each.
~
~
Seven Ways to Reach First Base Safely
- Hit
- Base on Balls
- Hit by Pitch
- Error
- Fielder's Choice
- Interference
- Dropped Third Strike
Who's on First (Abbott & Costello) The Team as given in skit (Right Fielder was not mentioned)
- 1st Base - Who
- 2nd Base - What
- 3rd Base - I Don't Know
- Shortstop - I Don't Give a Darn
- Pitcher - Tomorrow
- Catcher - Today
- Left Field - Why
- Center Field- Because
- Right Field - (not given)
No.57
Friday, February 25, 2005
Brush Off
~ The people who live in the so-called snow belt are familiar with them. They are a brotherhood, and their ranks are growing. The card carrying members pull in new recruits with every snowfall.
~ They would have us think they own the roads. It is this exclusivity that has them acting out a survival of the fittest scenario. I would concur that they most certainly come from a different gene pool. Intelligence, degrees, or Mensa papers are not a prerequisite to join any of their charters.
~ I find myself paying close attention to the weather reports, not so much because I commute to work, but that I want to be certain that there is no invasion of our homeland. Otherwise, why should they be using battlefield tactics? Why else would they be using those camouflaged vehicles to go to work, to the store, or to drop their kids off at school?
~ For those unfamiliar with these vehicles, they are easy to recognize. Their cars, SUVs, minivans, and trucks are apparent by the portholes front and back. They leave home from unshoveled driveways, I suppose to disguise those too. Their efforts to remove snow from their autos consists of carving a circle on their windshields. A slightly larger opening, usually oval shaped, is strategically cleared on the rear window.
~ Like that customized Lincoln disguised as a parade float in the movie Animal House, they rumble out of their respective driveways. I can only assume that in addition to GPS, they must also have a sophisticated radar system. Ala Star Trek, they probably have a large view screen transmitted by unseen cams.
~ In Massachusetts it is against the law to drive with snow on the roof as it may fly off into the path of a vehicle behind. It is also unlawful to drive with obstructed windows and mirrors. I haven't seen these camouflaged vehicles pulled over by the State Cowboys, let alone the local police. Apparently this camouflage is so effective, the law enforcement officers cannot see them.
~ If you happen to be driving for the first time in any of the states within the snow belt, be careful and stay alert. Don't be overly concerned if you happen to see what appears to be a speeding mound of snow overtaking you. Let it pass. Watching you through those portholes are members of an elite group. Though they consider themselves Road Warriors, they are actually patron saints for reckless drivers everywhere.
~ Although it is hard to do, you must drive defensively and look out for numero uno. Ignore them if you want, but remember, they resent it if you give them the brush off.
~
~No. 56
~ They would have us think they own the roads. It is this exclusivity that has them acting out a survival of the fittest scenario. I would concur that they most certainly come from a different gene pool. Intelligence, degrees, or Mensa papers are not a prerequisite to join any of their charters.
~ I find myself paying close attention to the weather reports, not so much because I commute to work, but that I want to be certain that there is no invasion of our homeland. Otherwise, why should they be using battlefield tactics? Why else would they be using those camouflaged vehicles to go to work, to the store, or to drop their kids off at school?
~ For those unfamiliar with these vehicles, they are easy to recognize. Their cars, SUVs, minivans, and trucks are apparent by the portholes front and back. They leave home from unshoveled driveways, I suppose to disguise those too. Their efforts to remove snow from their autos consists of carving a circle on their windshields. A slightly larger opening, usually oval shaped, is strategically cleared on the rear window.
~ Like that customized Lincoln disguised as a parade float in the movie Animal House, they rumble out of their respective driveways. I can only assume that in addition to GPS, they must also have a sophisticated radar system. Ala Star Trek, they probably have a large view screen transmitted by unseen cams.
~ In Massachusetts it is against the law to drive with snow on the roof as it may fly off into the path of a vehicle behind. It is also unlawful to drive with obstructed windows and mirrors. I haven't seen these camouflaged vehicles pulled over by the State Cowboys, let alone the local police. Apparently this camouflage is so effective, the law enforcement officers cannot see them.
~ If you happen to be driving for the first time in any of the states within the snow belt, be careful and stay alert. Don't be overly concerned if you happen to see what appears to be a speeding mound of snow overtaking you. Let it pass. Watching you through those portholes are members of an elite group. Though they consider themselves Road Warriors, they are actually patron saints for reckless drivers everywhere.
~ Although it is hard to do, you must drive defensively and look out for numero uno. Ignore them if you want, but remember, they resent it if you give them the brush off.
~
~No. 56
Fractured Etymology No.4
~ Because you wanted it, they're back. Pointmeister has pulled a few more from his dictionary.
- All-Wheel Drive - - None of the tires have been stolen.
- Autobiography - - What you get when you check a Vehicle Identification Number
- Autopilot - - One of the stars of the movie "Airplane"
- Baggage - - How long you have owned suitcase
- Baghdad - - Bag lady's father
- Bombadier - - Use explosives to kill Bambi
- Bowling - - This done when there is no clean dishes
- Carpet - - A bobble-head dog on the dashboard
- Catcher - - What happens when you run faster than a girl
- Extends - - Girls who are now nines
- Germinate - - What man from Berlin did at lunch time
- Immigrate - - Mrs. Peele on the Avengers
- Irish - - First name of McCallum who played Sheena
- Kinship - - Boat owned by a family
- Litigate - - Set a fence entry on fire
- Microchips - - Broken pieces at the bottom of the bag
- Miniscule - - Kindergarten
- Pencil holder - - An ear
- Samurai - - Choose either Sam or me
- Subtraction - - Eat less sandwiches.
~ While you digest these, the pointmeister will be scouring for a few more for another day.
No. 55
For someone else who can use colorful words without tripping over a syllable:
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Top 10 Things Not To Be Caught Doing
There are a lot things you wouldn't want to be caught doing. You wouldn't want the kids to walk in on you in the bedroom. You wouldn't want to walk around with a trail of toilet paper sticking out of your clothing. You wouldn't want to be caught picking your nose while flipping hamburgers at McDonalds. There are many more. I came up with the top 10 below, I hope you are never caught doing any of these.
~
~ 10. Dancing in the rain: (Gene kelley got paid to do it. You won't.)
~
~ 9. Losing your head: (A lot of good it did Anne Boleyn)
~
~ 8. Painting the town red: (Graffiti is against the law)
~
~ 7. Barking up the wrong tree (And that goes for humping your master's leg too)
~
~ 6. Shooting the moon (You might be an ass, but don't show it)
~
~ 5. Driving Miss Daisy (I know some men like older women but...)
~
~ 4. Licking Stamps (Careful, Terrence might be reprising his role as Zod)
~
~ 3. Turning over a new leaf (Especially if Adam saw you)
~
~ 2. Having a cow (It would make medical history. Ahem, who's the father?)
~
~ And the number one thing you wouldn't want to get caught doing...
~
~ 1. Making whoopie (It might be okay for Ted Danson, but not for me, thank you!)
~
Also receiving consideration: kicking the bucket; beating a dead horse; walking on egg shells; knocking them dead; drinking on the house; breaking wind; passing gas (what good is a joke without a reference to flatulence?)
~
~ No. 54
~
~ 10. Dancing in the rain: (Gene kelley got paid to do it. You won't.)
~
~ 9. Losing your head: (A lot of good it did Anne Boleyn)
~
~ 8. Painting the town red: (Graffiti is against the law)
~
~ 7. Barking up the wrong tree (And that goes for humping your master's leg too)
~
~ 6. Shooting the moon (You might be an ass, but don't show it)
~
~ 5. Driving Miss Daisy (I know some men like older women but...)
~
~ 4. Licking Stamps (Careful, Terrence might be reprising his role as Zod)
~
~ 3. Turning over a new leaf (Especially if Adam saw you)
~
~ 2. Having a cow (It would make medical history. Ahem, who's the father?)
~
~ And the number one thing you wouldn't want to get caught doing...
~
~ 1. Making whoopie (It might be okay for Ted Danson, but not for me, thank you!)
~
Also receiving consideration: kicking the bucket; beating a dead horse; walking on egg shells; knocking them dead; drinking on the house; breaking wind; passing gas (what good is a joke without a reference to flatulence?)
~
~ No. 54
Name That Tune
The following non-italicized paragraphs appear to be a simple story about learning to relax and living life to its fullest. Though the message is simple, the story has a secret cache of 53 song titles hidden within the text. The titles are complete and unbroken; none are separated by any other words. How many titles can you find? (All of them were top 40 hits.)
~
~ I'm sitting at the table with a bottle of wine, a sweet cherry wine, looking out my back door. These eyes see only a hazy shade of winter outside. All this snow, but there was no white Christmas this winter. Being careful not to spill the wine, knock on wood, I got up went to the white room that I use as a study.
~ I was thinking, wouldn't it be nice to go on vacation? I sure would like to be leaving on a jet plane for Montego Bay. Sooner or later, no matter what, everybody needs a break from this five o'clock world we live in. Everyday people can go crazy with little to do but daydream. Because one has to get ready for the days ahead, it is wise to cherish the memories we have. Let's live for today and get our kicks while we can.
~ Perhaps I can go up country and travel down some country roads through the whispering pines. I could open it up drive like a bat out of hell down the long and winding road.
~ Why not get on up and stand by me? We can come together on a Tuesday afternoon and runaway. We can look for the magic in the seasons in the sun. After a hard day's night of tossin' and turnin', we can forget about the back stabbers. It's the time of the season to go now.
~ I'll tell it like it is, our days on earth are precious and few. Pour some brandy or some strawberry wine for us, usually I drink alone, but time won't let me! It will be dandy to hold time in a bottle always and forever.
~
If you wish to compare your answers or to see which ones you might have missed, see Blog No.52, for a complete list of titles in their order of appearance in the above story. How do you think you did? If you found all 53, you should be running Blog quizzes.
~
No. 53
~
~ I'm sitting at the table with a bottle of wine, a sweet cherry wine, looking out my back door. These eyes see only a hazy shade of winter outside. All this snow, but there was no white Christmas this winter. Being careful not to spill the wine, knock on wood, I got up went to the white room that I use as a study.
~ I was thinking, wouldn't it be nice to go on vacation? I sure would like to be leaving on a jet plane for Montego Bay. Sooner or later, no matter what, everybody needs a break from this five o'clock world we live in. Everyday people can go crazy with little to do but daydream. Because one has to get ready for the days ahead, it is wise to cherish the memories we have. Let's live for today and get our kicks while we can.
~ Perhaps I can go up country and travel down some country roads through the whispering pines. I could open it up drive like a bat out of hell down the long and winding road.
~ Why not get on up and stand by me? We can come together on a Tuesday afternoon and runaway. We can look for the magic in the seasons in the sun. After a hard day's night of tossin' and turnin', we can forget about the back stabbers. It's the time of the season to go now.
~ I'll tell it like it is, our days on earth are precious and few. Pour some brandy or some strawberry wine for us, usually I drink alone, but time won't let me! It will be dandy to hold time in a bottle always and forever.
~
If you wish to compare your answers or to see which ones you might have missed, see Blog No.52, for a complete list of titles in their order of appearance in the above story. How do you think you did? If you found all 53, you should be running Blog quizzes.
~
No. 53
  |
Answers: Name That Tune
These song titles are listed in the order of their appearance in "Name That Tune." (Blog No. 53) How many did you find? Most of the songs are from my era, the 1960s, with a few from the 70s. The artists provided are the ones I remember recording these songs. Many of the songs have been covered by other artists over the years, in fact some of these are covers themselves of older versions. Your score: If you found 10 or less - not so good; 20+ fair; 30+ good; 40+ excellent; if you found all 53 - you should be writing the blog quizzes.
- Bottle of Wine (Jimmy Gilmer & the Fireballs)
- Sweet Cherry Wine (Tommy James & the Shondelles)
- Looking Out My Back Door (Credence Clearwater Revival)
- These Eyes (the Guess Who)
- Hazy Shade of Winter (Simon & Garfunkle)
- White Christmas (Bing Crosby)
- Spill the Wine (Eric Burdon & War)
- Knock on Wood (Eddie Floyd)
- White Room (Cream)
- Wouldn't It Be Nice (Beach Boys)
- Vacation (Connie Francis)
- Leaving on a Jet PLane (Peter, Paul & Mary)
- Montego Bay (Mungo Jerry)
- Sooner or Later (Grass Roots)
- No Matter What (Badfinger)
- Everybody (Tommy Roe)
- Five O'clock World (the Vogues)
- Everyday People (Sly & the Family Stone)
- Crazy (Patsy Cline)
- Daydream (Lovin' Spoonful)
- Because (Dave Clark Five)
- One (Three Dog Night)
- Get Ready (Rare Earth)
- Cherish (the Association)
- Memories (Barbara Streisand)
- Let's Live For Today (Grass Roots)
- Kicks (Paul Revere & the Raiders)
- Go up Country (Country Joe & the Fish)
- Country Roads (John Denver)
- Whispering Pines (Johnny Horton)
- Bat Out of Hell (Meatloaf)
- The Long and Winding Road (the Beatles)
- Get On Up (the Esquires)
- Stand By Me (Ben E. King)
- Come Together (the Beatles)
- Tuesday Afternoon (the Moody Blues)
- Runaway (Del Shannon)
- Magic (Pilot)
- Seasons in the Sun (Terry Jacks)
- A Hard Day's Night (the Beatles)
- Tossin' and Turnin' (Bobby Lewis)
- Back Stabbers (the O'Jays)
- The Time of the Season (the Zombies)
- Go Now (the Moody Blues)
- Tell It Like It Is (Aaron Neville)
- Precious and Few (Climax)
- Brandy (Looking Glass)
- Strawberry Wine (Nancy Sinatra)
- I Drink Alone (George Thoroughgood)
- Time Won't Let Me (the Outsiders)
- Dandy (Herman's Hermits)
- Time in a Bottle (Jim Croche)
- Always and Forever (Heat Wave)
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
The Last Car In
~ Not counting the two cats and the two dogs, we are a family of three with three jobs, three vehicles, three different schedules, and but one long driveway. This is great in the winter time in New England. There is an average of a half dozen significant snowfalls that results in a city-wide parking ban. Tucked safely in our driveway are three cars that are rarely parked in the ideal sequence for the next morning. As I am usually the last one home, I am of course the last car in, and the first one that has to be moved the next day.
~ A part of the normal household routine, I am the last to get up in the mornings. That also nominates and elects me as the last one to the bathroom. Even the dogs have been let out to relieve themselves. The flow of events continues as the three of us move through the various stages of readiness. I maintain my position in the pecking order throughout.
~ Just about halfway through my first cup of coffee, my daughter informs me that she is ready to leave for work. Still in my slippers I must change into my shoes and throw on a hat and coat. Her car, already started from when she let the dogs out, is toasty warm. My pickup however, is stone cold and will still be cold when I pull back into the driveway.
~ Back inside and once again the last car in, I apply heat to the kettle for my second cup of coffee. Once again I find myself last in line for the bathroom, even with competition reduced by one. The rituals of getting ready continue to flow a familiar course, me bring up the rear. I am once again halfway through a cup of coffee, when I am informed by my wife she is ready to leave. Shoes already on, I again throw on a hat and coat. My wife's car is already running and is toasty warm. My pickup however, is still cold. It will still be cold when I return to the driveway.
~ This time I leave the truck running. I am the only vehicle in the driveway, and still the last car in. Finishing my coffee, I gather my pocket paraphenalia and make certain that all the televisions, radios, and lights are all off.
~ To no one there, I announce that I am ready to leave. The animals are indifferent. I settle behind the wheel of my toasty warm truck. Though I am the only car in, for this one fleeting moment, I am the last car out.
~
~No. 51
~ A part of the normal household routine, I am the last to get up in the mornings. That also nominates and elects me as the last one to the bathroom. Even the dogs have been let out to relieve themselves. The flow of events continues as the three of us move through the various stages of readiness. I maintain my position in the pecking order throughout.
~ Just about halfway through my first cup of coffee, my daughter informs me that she is ready to leave for work. Still in my slippers I must change into my shoes and throw on a hat and coat. Her car, already started from when she let the dogs out, is toasty warm. My pickup however, is stone cold and will still be cold when I pull back into the driveway.
~ Back inside and once again the last car in, I apply heat to the kettle for my second cup of coffee. Once again I find myself last in line for the bathroom, even with competition reduced by one. The rituals of getting ready continue to flow a familiar course, me bring up the rear. I am once again halfway through a cup of coffee, when I am informed by my wife she is ready to leave. Shoes already on, I again throw on a hat and coat. My wife's car is already running and is toasty warm. My pickup however, is still cold. It will still be cold when I return to the driveway.
~ This time I leave the truck running. I am the only vehicle in the driveway, and still the last car in. Finishing my coffee, I gather my pocket paraphenalia and make certain that all the televisions, radios, and lights are all off.
~ To no one there, I announce that I am ready to leave. The animals are indifferent. I settle behind the wheel of my toasty warm truck. Though I am the only car in, for this one fleeting moment, I am the last car out.
~
~No. 51
No Deposit, No Return
~ Do we ever really read everything before we sign it? Sometimes we just want to get it home. We want to make sure it operates properly. We don't want damaged goods. We want it complete with no missing parts. The neighbors have one or two, but we think ours is better. We might as well put up a sign to announce we have a brand new one.
~ We are pleased that the neighbors are envious. We are happy to oblige them when they ask to see it, but only at our convenience. After all it is ours and we want to enjoy it. They have some of their own, but they are later models. We intend to take care of it. We want it to last a long time.
~ It is only after you have brought it home and gotten acclimated to it, that you finally take the oppurtunity to go over the paperwork that came with it. It is then that discover that it requires a lot peripheries that weren't included in the package. You wonder now what you agreed to, or should have agreed to.
~ No Deposit, No Return: The bold font causes you to think. You have no plans to return it, but there was a deposit of sorts.
~ Not Responsible For Manufacturer's Defects: Thankfully you did not settle for the floor model. So far you have no defects.
~ No Warranty: That sounds right. There are no guarantees with this product. Why should the manufacturer be responsible for abuse of the product?
~ Batteries Not Included: You got the fully charged one. Replenishing its power has been no problem.
~ You shuffle through the paperwork, scanning both sides to find the English translations. Having looked at each page you are dismayed to find that there is no instruction manual. Even a trouble sheet could prove useful from time to time should problems arise.
~ We have had ours almost 31 years now. There has been virtually no problems. We had had a lot of joy in those three plus decades. We never had an instruction manual. We never had a warranty. We never once considered a trade-in or an update. We never needed to.
~
~ No, babies don't come with manuals or a warranty. There are no guarantees for performance. Yes, they are high maintenance, especially in the early years. They drastically change your lifestyle. They give you love in return for the love you give them.
~ Our baby will be getting married soon. We knew the day would come when she would leave home. We haven't lost her, we know. The years with us were the "K through twelve" of her life. We have prepared her for the "college" of the rest of her life.
~
~ No deposit, no return? Batteries not included? So what? It didn't hurt us or her one bit. On that you can have a lifetime guarantee.
~
~No. 50
~ We are pleased that the neighbors are envious. We are happy to oblige them when they ask to see it, but only at our convenience. After all it is ours and we want to enjoy it. They have some of their own, but they are later models. We intend to take care of it. We want it to last a long time.
~ It is only after you have brought it home and gotten acclimated to it, that you finally take the oppurtunity to go over the paperwork that came with it. It is then that discover that it requires a lot peripheries that weren't included in the package. You wonder now what you agreed to, or should have agreed to.
~ No Deposit, No Return: The bold font causes you to think. You have no plans to return it, but there was a deposit of sorts.
~ Not Responsible For Manufacturer's Defects: Thankfully you did not settle for the floor model. So far you have no defects.
~ No Warranty: That sounds right. There are no guarantees with this product. Why should the manufacturer be responsible for abuse of the product?
~ Batteries Not Included: You got the fully charged one. Replenishing its power has been no problem.
~ You shuffle through the paperwork, scanning both sides to find the English translations. Having looked at each page you are dismayed to find that there is no instruction manual. Even a trouble sheet could prove useful from time to time should problems arise.
~ We have had ours almost 31 years now. There has been virtually no problems. We had had a lot of joy in those three plus decades. We never had an instruction manual. We never had a warranty. We never once considered a trade-in or an update. We never needed to.
~
~ No, babies don't come with manuals or a warranty. There are no guarantees for performance. Yes, they are high maintenance, especially in the early years. They drastically change your lifestyle. They give you love in return for the love you give them.
~ Our baby will be getting married soon. We knew the day would come when she would leave home. We haven't lost her, we know. The years with us were the "K through twelve" of her life. We have prepared her for the "college" of the rest of her life.
~
~ No deposit, no return? Batteries not included? So what? It didn't hurt us or her one bit. On that you can have a lifetime guarantee.
~
~No. 50
|
Light in the Refrigerator
~ Ah, the eternal mystery. The end all enigma! That which has baffled us since the invention of the box that houses it, still intrigues us today.
~ Sure, it has been said that the button in the door frame works just like the in a car door. That light in the car goes out, doesn't it? Well, we had to concede that one. However, there was the theory that after we were in bed, it would come back on.
~ So it was with the light in the refrigerator. No matter how many times or how fast we opened and closed that door, we knew, we just knew that that light was on on when the door was closed. That button on the frame? Sure it had a purpose, it was there to dim the light to conserve energy. We all knew that, why didn't our parents?
~ Many times we devised many experiments to prove what happened when the door closed. Of course, none of them worked. Then again, those experiments weren't complete failures, because they didn't prove that the light was out either. Over the years we heard of experiments that others had run. All attempts by one intelligent tester to make a then state-of-the-art Instamatic camera operate within the fridge proved fruitless. As equally ineffective were periscopes and strategically placed mirrors.
~ The evolution from youth to adulthood did little to dissuade my efforts through the years. Since becoming older and expected to be responsible, the experiments were run less frequently but no less covertly.
~ My most recent venture to solve the mystery has found me studying clues that are beyond the laws of science as we know them. Until now, I have been reluctant to release the results of those studies. My wife already thinks I am a screwball, so there is no need to throw gasoline on the fire.
~ The first incident occurred the morning after Thanksgiving. At first I dismissed the broken toothpicks and the strange lines on the mashed potatoes one shelf above the olives. I also ignored the curious ball-shaped pieces of the potatoes on the other shelves. Obviously, I thought at the time, the pieces of potato balls, scattered peas, and broken and missing toothpicks had been jostled there when the leftovers had been put away.
~ Subsequent trips to the refrigerator presented me with further questions. I began to inventory the contents and chart their locations. I guess it was the toothpicks with green cellophane tips that had appeared sticking from the remnants of the turkey. What made me realize that there was design in their arrangement? It didn't matter. I was convinced that those green tipped toothpicks were trees "growing" on the side of a hill that was the turkey. Those bits of mashed potatoes were now topped with a second smaller ball. Someone, or something was building tiny snowmen! The lines in the bowl of mashed potatoes were beyond a doubt the tracks formed when the spuds were rolled into balls. On the other side of the turkey I discovered the other half of the broken toothpicks. They were stuck into the turkey forming a vertical ...ladder?
~ All those wasted moments through all the wasted months and years! We had concentrated so intensely on the light itself, we never noticed what was going on with the contents stored inside. Anything found out of place had been assumed to be spillage by someone else.
~ What a brilliant cover! They had been using the light to shield their mission, a distraction to keep us in the dark. Oh by the way, the light was on all the time! How do you suppose they could see what they were doing? They might have kept us there, but they certainly couldn't work in the dark.
~ Without tipping my hand, I have continued to observe and to note any and all anomalies. I have determined that the button has two functions. Not only does it create the illusion that the light is extinguished, it must also be some kind of signal at a high frequency beyond our range of hearing. That would explain why I have never seen or caught a glimpse of them, the signal alerting them that the door was opening.
~ My powers of deduction have me prepared to face the possibility that the trees, ladders, and snowmen are in fact red herrings. If they are clever enough to avoid detection for so long, then it should be of no surprise that they are smart enough to disguise there work in any number of ways. Take for example those food items that have spoiled in there. We have been throwing away possible evidence all along! On the other hand, we just might be playing right into their grand scheme of things. We might be actually transporting elements crucial to their plans. We have been depositing these substances in common areas for decades. If what I have discovered in my refrigerator, is going on in all the refrigerators, I can only imagine what is happening in our city dumps.
~ I have making taped observations, and each tape has been stored in secure place. In a safe deposit box there are instructions to find those tapes.
~ I have decided to reveal my research, such as it is, here in this forum. At least I am assured that others will be informed and something will have survived me. If something should happen to me, it is up to you out there. Someone will have to continue my work. I can only hope that my discoveries will eventually lead to the secret of their plans. I might just be earth's only hope. The next time you open your refrigerator, be observant. Pay attention to details!
~
~ The truth is in there!
~
~No. 49
~ Sure, it has been said that the button in the door frame works just like the in a car door. That light in the car goes out, doesn't it? Well, we had to concede that one. However, there was the theory that after we were in bed, it would come back on.
~ So it was with the light in the refrigerator. No matter how many times or how fast we opened and closed that door, we knew, we just knew that that light was on on when the door was closed. That button on the frame? Sure it had a purpose, it was there to dim the light to conserve energy. We all knew that, why didn't our parents?
~ Many times we devised many experiments to prove what happened when the door closed. Of course, none of them worked. Then again, those experiments weren't complete failures, because they didn't prove that the light was out either. Over the years we heard of experiments that others had run. All attempts by one intelligent tester to make a then state-of-the-art Instamatic camera operate within the fridge proved fruitless. As equally ineffective were periscopes and strategically placed mirrors.
~ The evolution from youth to adulthood did little to dissuade my efforts through the years. Since becoming older and expected to be responsible, the experiments were run less frequently but no less covertly.
~ My most recent venture to solve the mystery has found me studying clues that are beyond the laws of science as we know them. Until now, I have been reluctant to release the results of those studies. My wife already thinks I am a screwball, so there is no need to throw gasoline on the fire.
~ The first incident occurred the morning after Thanksgiving. At first I dismissed the broken toothpicks and the strange lines on the mashed potatoes one shelf above the olives. I also ignored the curious ball-shaped pieces of the potatoes on the other shelves. Obviously, I thought at the time, the pieces of potato balls, scattered peas, and broken and missing toothpicks had been jostled there when the leftovers had been put away.
~ Subsequent trips to the refrigerator presented me with further questions. I began to inventory the contents and chart their locations. I guess it was the toothpicks with green cellophane tips that had appeared sticking from the remnants of the turkey. What made me realize that there was design in their arrangement? It didn't matter. I was convinced that those green tipped toothpicks were trees "growing" on the side of a hill that was the turkey. Those bits of mashed potatoes were now topped with a second smaller ball. Someone, or something was building tiny snowmen! The lines in the bowl of mashed potatoes were beyond a doubt the tracks formed when the spuds were rolled into balls. On the other side of the turkey I discovered the other half of the broken toothpicks. They were stuck into the turkey forming a vertical ...ladder?
~ All those wasted moments through all the wasted months and years! We had concentrated so intensely on the light itself, we never noticed what was going on with the contents stored inside. Anything found out of place had been assumed to be spillage by someone else.
~ What a brilliant cover! They had been using the light to shield their mission, a distraction to keep us in the dark. Oh by the way, the light was on all the time! How do you suppose they could see what they were doing? They might have kept us there, but they certainly couldn't work in the dark.
~ Without tipping my hand, I have continued to observe and to note any and all anomalies. I have determined that the button has two functions. Not only does it create the illusion that the light is extinguished, it must also be some kind of signal at a high frequency beyond our range of hearing. That would explain why I have never seen or caught a glimpse of them, the signal alerting them that the door was opening.
~ My powers of deduction have me prepared to face the possibility that the trees, ladders, and snowmen are in fact red herrings. If they are clever enough to avoid detection for so long, then it should be of no surprise that they are smart enough to disguise there work in any number of ways. Take for example those food items that have spoiled in there. We have been throwing away possible evidence all along! On the other hand, we just might be playing right into their grand scheme of things. We might be actually transporting elements crucial to their plans. We have been depositing these substances in common areas for decades. If what I have discovered in my refrigerator, is going on in all the refrigerators, I can only imagine what is happening in our city dumps.
~ I have making taped observations, and each tape has been stored in secure place. In a safe deposit box there are instructions to find those tapes.
~ I have decided to reveal my research, such as it is, here in this forum. At least I am assured that others will be informed and something will have survived me. If something should happen to me, it is up to you out there. Someone will have to continue my work. I can only hope that my discoveries will eventually lead to the secret of their plans. I might just be earth's only hope. The next time you open your refrigerator, be observant. Pay attention to details!
~
~ The truth is in there!
~
~No. 49
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Smoking Cap Guns
~ Looking for a movie to watch, I came across the DVD of A Christmas Story among the other titles on the shelf of my entertainment center. The story line triggered a sojourn to the good old days of the fifties back in rural West Virginia. Like Ralphie, I too had wanted a Red Ryder BB Gun. Like the bespectacled hero of that movie, I had tried a few plots and had cleverly dropped some hints. Unlike Ralphie however, I never did get that gun.
~ Nonetheless, Santa did leave a number of beloved toy guns over the years. To a young strapping lad that I was, or a whippersnapper as my uncle called me, the double holstered replicas of the pistols Davy Crockett used were the envy of the neighborhood. They weren't six-shooters, but the thrill of cocking the hammer to expose the cap plate was sweet. I had learned, but never did share the fact, that three caps from a roll folded to size of one laid upon the plate would result in a louder bang. The resounding blasts from two guns at the same time, hands down made my guns the loudest in town.
~ Kids being kids, we had been involved in a serious territorial war with the Hurons for hours. My mighty guns were ringing out above all the other kids' guns. The sun had already set, but there was still a glow of dusk in the sky. We were in the midst of planning a raid on the Indian's camp, nothing could cause us to stray from our play.
~ That's when the local policeman, Officer Parker had driven up. At our age, a policeman was held in awe, because he had a real gun. The Great Indian War was called off, a truce was in effect. The lot of us, frontiersmen as well as the Indians, gathered around him as he approached. We wondered what could be so important that he would come to our neighborhood. Secretly we were all hoping he was here to investigate a crime. Maybe, just maybe we would witness the capture and arrest of a dangerous criminal.
~ To our horror, he told us that were the perpetrators! It appeared that crotchedy old Miss Snyder had called the police. He was there to investigate a lousy disturbance of the peace! Our faces were white with fear. We were going to be arrested, led away in handcuffs, and tossed into the city hoosegow. In a small town like Clendenin, WVa., in the fifties, all of us kids had heard about those dungeons there. There were torture devices. You were fed moldy bread and given dirty water to drink. There were crazed prisoners there, who'd become cannibals with a taste for young children.
~ Some of the kids, especially the ones on the outer perimeter of the ring around the officer, took off in every direction. Our friends had abandoned us, sacrificed us for their own escape. Parker ignored them, kneeling down amongst us so that we were face to face. He told us about the complaints of a large racket, namely a series of single bangs. These bangs had caused the neighbors to think we had cherry bombs. He said he knew that we didn't have any fireworks. I realized then that we were being interrogated, aand it was a first time for us!
~ "Who has the loud cap gun?" he asked. He seemed to be paying a lot of attention to my Davy Crockett pistols. "It wasn't us," I lied. "It must of been one of those guys," I said pointed in the direction the others had fled. He placed his hand on my shoulder and motioned to the other boys, "Go home all of you. I have my man." His face was stern as he looked at me, "Hand over the guns,son." I nervously obeyed and a dread came over me. How was I going to explain to my parents that i had lost my pistols. I certainly couldn't tell them that they were confiscated by the law.
Facing my parents terrified me more than being tossed in jail.
~ He examined my pistols closely. I saw him peel the off the folded caps, unspent, from the cap plate. He looked up straight into my soul, so wide were my eyes. The big bust on Elm Street, as the incident would become known years later, centered on me. I was shaking like a leaf. Perhaaps to soothe me, or to get the questioning over with, he smiled knowingly.
~ "That's a pretty good trick, son, using three caps at the same time. Pretty neat.," he said to me. He stood up still looking me in the eyes and handed me my pistols. "Okay, here's what's going to happen," he declared. "You are going to take your guns and go home. It's dark outside and it is too late to be playing with cap guns." He then smirked and pointed to Miss Snyder's house, "You darn near scared the daylights out of her!" Then he laughed.
~ "Aren't you going to book me? Or fill out a report?" I asked sheepishly.
~ "No," he answered, "Not this time. But maybe I should drive you home."
~ "Oh, no sir! I live just down the street. The white house on the corner."
~ I think was inside my house before he even started the engine. I never even looked out the window, lest he see me as he drove by. After that day, I cut back on the caps. That had been my first and my last run in with the law. Yes, he had the goods on me that day.
~ Where there was a noise, there was a smoking cap gun.
~
~No. 48
~ Nonetheless, Santa did leave a number of beloved toy guns over the years. To a young strapping lad that I was, or a whippersnapper as my uncle called me, the double holstered replicas of the pistols Davy Crockett used were the envy of the neighborhood. They weren't six-shooters, but the thrill of cocking the hammer to expose the cap plate was sweet. I had learned, but never did share the fact, that three caps from a roll folded to size of one laid upon the plate would result in a louder bang. The resounding blasts from two guns at the same time, hands down made my guns the loudest in town.
~ Kids being kids, we had been involved in a serious territorial war with the Hurons for hours. My mighty guns were ringing out above all the other kids' guns. The sun had already set, but there was still a glow of dusk in the sky. We were in the midst of planning a raid on the Indian's camp, nothing could cause us to stray from our play.
~ That's when the local policeman, Officer Parker had driven up. At our age, a policeman was held in awe, because he had a real gun. The Great Indian War was called off, a truce was in effect. The lot of us, frontiersmen as well as the Indians, gathered around him as he approached. We wondered what could be so important that he would come to our neighborhood. Secretly we were all hoping he was here to investigate a crime. Maybe, just maybe we would witness the capture and arrest of a dangerous criminal.
~ To our horror, he told us that were the perpetrators! It appeared that crotchedy old Miss Snyder had called the police. He was there to investigate a lousy disturbance of the peace! Our faces were white with fear. We were going to be arrested, led away in handcuffs, and tossed into the city hoosegow. In a small town like Clendenin, WVa., in the fifties, all of us kids had heard about those dungeons there. There were torture devices. You were fed moldy bread and given dirty water to drink. There were crazed prisoners there, who'd become cannibals with a taste for young children.
~ Some of the kids, especially the ones on the outer perimeter of the ring around the officer, took off in every direction. Our friends had abandoned us, sacrificed us for their own escape. Parker ignored them, kneeling down amongst us so that we were face to face. He told us about the complaints of a large racket, namely a series of single bangs. These bangs had caused the neighbors to think we had cherry bombs. He said he knew that we didn't have any fireworks. I realized then that we were being interrogated, aand it was a first time for us!
~ "Who has the loud cap gun?" he asked. He seemed to be paying a lot of attention to my Davy Crockett pistols. "It wasn't us," I lied. "It must of been one of those guys," I said pointed in the direction the others had fled. He placed his hand on my shoulder and motioned to the other boys, "Go home all of you. I have my man." His face was stern as he looked at me, "Hand over the guns,son." I nervously obeyed and a dread came over me. How was I going to explain to my parents that i had lost my pistols. I certainly couldn't tell them that they were confiscated by the law.
Facing my parents terrified me more than being tossed in jail.
~ He examined my pistols closely. I saw him peel the off the folded caps, unspent, from the cap plate. He looked up straight into my soul, so wide were my eyes. The big bust on Elm Street, as the incident would become known years later, centered on me. I was shaking like a leaf. Perhaaps to soothe me, or to get the questioning over with, he smiled knowingly.
~ "That's a pretty good trick, son, using three caps at the same time. Pretty neat.," he said to me. He stood up still looking me in the eyes and handed me my pistols. "Okay, here's what's going to happen," he declared. "You are going to take your guns and go home. It's dark outside and it is too late to be playing with cap guns." He then smirked and pointed to Miss Snyder's house, "You darn near scared the daylights out of her!" Then he laughed.
~ "Aren't you going to book me? Or fill out a report?" I asked sheepishly.
~ "No," he answered, "Not this time. But maybe I should drive you home."
~ "Oh, no sir! I live just down the street. The white house on the corner."
~ I think was inside my house before he even started the engine. I never even looked out the window, lest he see me as he drove by. After that day, I cut back on the caps. That had been my first and my last run in with the law. Yes, he had the goods on me that day.
~ Where there was a noise, there was a smoking cap gun.
~
~No. 48
Monday, February 21, 2005
Stowing Thrones
~ I call them groaners. They are those jokes that tell you a story, hold your interest, and then force you to groan when you hear the punchline. Indeed such a punchline is like a sucker punch. There are many of them out there, all of them with "groan power." So from the seat of my pants, I am serving up a trio of them from the top of my head.
~
~ A Rabbi wandering the land to spread the Word, comes upon the small town of Trid situated at the base of a large muddy hill. In the town center he observed a curious ritual that all of the Trids seemed to revel in. They would climb to the top of the steep hill, where they would then lean forward with their hands on their knees. At that point, a large troll would then appear and promptly kick them in the rear end. Powered by the force of the kick, they would be sent down the slope sliding in the mud all the way down to the town square. Such was their apparent enjoyment of this, that they would get back in line to climb to the hill's crest again.
~ The Rabbi, thinking that when in Rome do as the Romans, took his place in the line. Upon reaching the summit, anticipating the thrill of it, assumed the position. Instead, the troll looked at him and said, "Silly Rabbi, kicks are for Trids."
(GROAN) I am holding up a sign with that word to cue the audience. The two placards with "Laugh" and "Cheer" is not used very often.
~
~ In a far away kingdom which bordered several other richer kingdoms, lived a king who was envious of neighboring monarchs and their lands. Not having the resources of the other kingdoms, his reign was less than glorious. So he decided that he must embellish his kingdom with the best of everything. He oversaw the construction of a crystal castle. After fitting his castle with the finest finery, he felt that something was missing. So from the dwindling coffers he ordered a magnificent golden throne be built.
~ When it was complete he knew he now had the greatest castle of them all. What grand castle wouldn't be complete without the grandest throne? From a gold throne he would rule long within his glass castle.
~ But when he sat upon the golden throne, the additional weight caused it and him to go crashing through the glass floors. This set in motion the collapse of the entire castle.
~ The moral of the story: People who live in glass houses shouldn't stow thrones. (GROAN)
~
~ At his ranch, Roy Rogers celebrated his birthday with Dale his wife and good friend Gene Autry. Both cowboys had been matinee idols, rivals, and friends through the years. They were admiring Roy's brand new boots, one of his birthday gifts. Later Roy and Dale waved goodbye to Gene as he rode home on his horse Champion.
~ As it had been raining and the new boots had gotten muddy, Roy left them by the door for the night. He did not want to track up Dale's clean floors. The next morning he found his new boots shredded to pieces on the porch. In the yard was the distinct footprints of a large mountain lion.
~ Climbing into the saddle atop his horse Trigger, Roy said goodbye to Dale, telling her he would return when he had tracked down the cat. Several days would pass before she heard the hoofbeats approaching the ranch house. Gene, who had dropped by for another visit, joined Dale on the porch as Roy approached. Draped over the back of the saddle was the tan body of a large mountain lion.
~ In unison, both Dale and Gene chimed, "pardon me Roy, is that the cat that chewed your new shoes?" (GROAN)
~ Groaners is a fitting label for these farcical jokes. The best part of them is not the laughs they generate, but rather measuring the decibels of the groans.
~ Fear not, I'm sure that I can come up with a few more for a future blog. (GROAN)
~
~No. 47
~
~ A Rabbi wandering the land to spread the Word, comes upon the small town of Trid situated at the base of a large muddy hill. In the town center he observed a curious ritual that all of the Trids seemed to revel in. They would climb to the top of the steep hill, where they would then lean forward with their hands on their knees. At that point, a large troll would then appear and promptly kick them in the rear end. Powered by the force of the kick, they would be sent down the slope sliding in the mud all the way down to the town square. Such was their apparent enjoyment of this, that they would get back in line to climb to the hill's crest again.
~ The Rabbi, thinking that when in Rome do as the Romans, took his place in the line. Upon reaching the summit, anticipating the thrill of it, assumed the position. Instead, the troll looked at him and said, "Silly Rabbi, kicks are for Trids."
(GROAN) I am holding up a sign with that word to cue the audience. The two placards with "Laugh" and "Cheer" is not used very often.
~
~ In a far away kingdom which bordered several other richer kingdoms, lived a king who was envious of neighboring monarchs and their lands. Not having the resources of the other kingdoms, his reign was less than glorious. So he decided that he must embellish his kingdom with the best of everything. He oversaw the construction of a crystal castle. After fitting his castle with the finest finery, he felt that something was missing. So from the dwindling coffers he ordered a magnificent golden throne be built.
~ When it was complete he knew he now had the greatest castle of them all. What grand castle wouldn't be complete without the grandest throne? From a gold throne he would rule long within his glass castle.
~ But when he sat upon the golden throne, the additional weight caused it and him to go crashing through the glass floors. This set in motion the collapse of the entire castle.
~ The moral of the story: People who live in glass houses shouldn't stow thrones. (GROAN)
~
~ At his ranch, Roy Rogers celebrated his birthday with Dale his wife and good friend Gene Autry. Both cowboys had been matinee idols, rivals, and friends through the years. They were admiring Roy's brand new boots, one of his birthday gifts. Later Roy and Dale waved goodbye to Gene as he rode home on his horse Champion.
~ As it had been raining and the new boots had gotten muddy, Roy left them by the door for the night. He did not want to track up Dale's clean floors. The next morning he found his new boots shredded to pieces on the porch. In the yard was the distinct footprints of a large mountain lion.
~ Climbing into the saddle atop his horse Trigger, Roy said goodbye to Dale, telling her he would return when he had tracked down the cat. Several days would pass before she heard the hoofbeats approaching the ranch house. Gene, who had dropped by for another visit, joined Dale on the porch as Roy approached. Draped over the back of the saddle was the tan body of a large mountain lion.
~ In unison, both Dale and Gene chimed, "pardon me Roy, is that the cat that chewed your new shoes?" (GROAN)
~ Groaners is a fitting label for these farcical jokes. The best part of them is not the laughs they generate, but rather measuring the decibels of the groans.
~ Fear not, I'm sure that I can come up with a few more for a future blog. (GROAN)
~
~No. 47
I Didn't Mean To Say What I Meant
~ Have you ever said something and wish you hadn't? Did you mean one thing, but it came out wrong? Of course you have! We all have. There is the classic Catch-22 question that a wife or girl friend will eventually ask a man. All things being equal, there is no safe answer to: "Does this make me look fat?" It is impossible to get a pass on this epitaph hidden in a question, "No dear, it looks good on you." On the surface this answer appears safe enough. That is until you hear her response: "Oh? That means all my other clothes make me look fat?"
~ You are now between the proverbial rock and a hard place. You are face with tiptoeing through a mine field. You are about to run the gauntlet. You first defense, of course is to answer, "No. None of your clothes make you look fat!" Whew! You escaped unscathed. "Oh, so I look fat with no clothes on?"
~ The ice is thin and the cracks are spreading in all directions. You have painted yourself into a corner. You are thinking furiously now, the gears are grinding. Brilliantly you come up with perfect defense, indeed a sack in the backfield. "Would you rather I had said, yes it does make you look fat?"
~ Thinking you are home free, it is you who is tackled for a loss. "So that's the way it is, isn't it? You do think I'm fat!" You are dazed, helpless as she storms out of the room.
~ You are now in no man's land. You have one foot in your mouth and chewing vigorously. What in the world just happened? There is definitely a need for some damage control. Do you let time do the healing? Not if you want supper! Or is time for some reconstructive surgery?
~ Is it time for the secret weapon? Or should you settle for the heavy artillery? The secret weapon of course, is the bribe disguised as a peace offering. You must weigh the options. Flowers? Candy? A movie? Offer to take her out to that new restaurant? You decide however, that the secret weapon will be used only as a last resort.
~ It is decided then that you will deploy the heavy artillery. So, in the heat of the battle, you charge right through the heavily barricaded portal to the bed room where she has been entrenched since the hostilities began.
~ Keeping her pinned down, you fire a couple of salvos across the bow. "Honey, you do not look fat in any of your clothes! You do not look fat naked!" So far so good. She is listening. "In fact, when you have clothes on, I just want to rip them off of you! And when you are naked, I just want to rip off my own clothes!"
~ "Well, maybe I overacted," she says.
~ You are on a roll now. "In fact I feel like ripping your clothes of right now!" you proudly announce. To accent the positive, you hurriedly remove your clothing. Like Teddy Roosevelt at San Juan you charge in her direction.
~ BANG! There is an explosion! "Is that all you ever think of? You think that's the answer to everything?" She barges past you, making good a hasty retreat, leaving you at half-mast.
~ You played your trump, but she held the Ace! Oh, there will be an eventual truce. The skirmish will be forgotten. You'll have to get dressed and unleash the secret weapon. Which one do use first? The flowers? The candy? The movie? Or the dinner? You can only hope that you don't have to use them all!
~ (Sigh!) I didn't mean to say what I meant. What I meant to say, wasn't said. I meant to say that I didn't mean it. I'm so confused at what I did say meant. Did I say something mean? If so, it's not what I meant. I'm not sure now what I said meant.
~ And I mean it!
~
~No. 46
The master of saying the right thing at the right time, blue offers the secret weapon before they start a conversation. See for yourself at:
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
~ You are now between the proverbial rock and a hard place. You are face with tiptoeing through a mine field. You are about to run the gauntlet. You first defense, of course is to answer, "No. None of your clothes make you look fat!" Whew! You escaped unscathed. "Oh, so I look fat with no clothes on?"
~ The ice is thin and the cracks are spreading in all directions. You have painted yourself into a corner. You are thinking furiously now, the gears are grinding. Brilliantly you come up with perfect defense, indeed a sack in the backfield. "Would you rather I had said, yes it does make you look fat?"
~ Thinking you are home free, it is you who is tackled for a loss. "So that's the way it is, isn't it? You do think I'm fat!" You are dazed, helpless as she storms out of the room.
~ You are now in no man's land. You have one foot in your mouth and chewing vigorously. What in the world just happened? There is definitely a need for some damage control. Do you let time do the healing? Not if you want supper! Or is time for some reconstructive surgery?
~ Is it time for the secret weapon? Or should you settle for the heavy artillery? The secret weapon of course, is the bribe disguised as a peace offering. You must weigh the options. Flowers? Candy? A movie? Offer to take her out to that new restaurant? You decide however, that the secret weapon will be used only as a last resort.
~ It is decided then that you will deploy the heavy artillery. So, in the heat of the battle, you charge right through the heavily barricaded portal to the bed room where she has been entrenched since the hostilities began.
~ Keeping her pinned down, you fire a couple of salvos across the bow. "Honey, you do not look fat in any of your clothes! You do not look fat naked!" So far so good. She is listening. "In fact, when you have clothes on, I just want to rip them off of you! And when you are naked, I just want to rip off my own clothes!"
~ "Well, maybe I overacted," she says.
~ You are on a roll now. "In fact I feel like ripping your clothes of right now!" you proudly announce. To accent the positive, you hurriedly remove your clothing. Like Teddy Roosevelt at San Juan you charge in her direction.
~ BANG! There is an explosion! "Is that all you ever think of? You think that's the answer to everything?" She barges past you, making good a hasty retreat, leaving you at half-mast.
~ You played your trump, but she held the Ace! Oh, there will be an eventual truce. The skirmish will be forgotten. You'll have to get dressed and unleash the secret weapon. Which one do use first? The flowers? The candy? The movie? Or the dinner? You can only hope that you don't have to use them all!
~ (Sigh!) I didn't mean to say what I meant. What I meant to say, wasn't said. I meant to say that I didn't mean it. I'm so confused at what I did say meant. Did I say something mean? If so, it's not what I meant. I'm not sure now what I said meant.
~ And I mean it!
~
~No. 46
The master of saying the right thing at the right time, blue offers the secret weapon before they start a conversation. See for yourself at:
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Sandra Dee - a Tribute
~ Sandra Dee, actress and recording artist has died at the age of 63 on Feb. 20, 2005. She was born Alexandra Zuck in 1942 in Bayonne, New Jersey. She was discovered at the age of 12 and signed with Universal Studios in 1954.
~ Dee was the original Gidget in 1959. She replace Debbie Reynolds in Tammy Tell Me True, 1961. She also appeared in a series of dramas: A Summer Place 1959, Imitation of Life 1959, and Portrait in Black 1960. In 1960, while filming Come September , released in 1961, the 18 year old co-starred and fell in love with Bobby Darin. They were married in Dec. of 1960, which led to the birth of a son, Dodd the following year. The couple starred together in If a Man Aswers, 1962, and That Funny Feeling in 1965. Their marriage ended in 1967. When Darin died at the age of 37 from congestive heart failure, Dee went into severe depression and began drinking heavily and abusing drugs.
~ In the 70s she made a few appearances in TV movies. But ironically, it was the 1978 movie, Grease, with the song "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee," which poked fun at her wholesome personality. It also renewed her popularity with a new generation of movie goers.
~ Until her death, she had lived in Beverly Hills. She had been continuously battling her addictions with the help of her son.
~ In addition to her acting career, Sandra Dee also had a brief recording life. Her songs include: "Do It While You're Young" , and its B-side, "Questions" in 1960. Also in 1960, was "Dear Johnny"/"When I Fall in Love." Her final record was "Tammy Tell Me True"/"Let's Fall in Love" in 1961.
~
Some of the information above was found at the "Official Sandra Dee Web Site" : www.geocities.com/Hollywood
~
~No. 45
~ Dee was the original Gidget in 1959. She replace Debbie Reynolds in Tammy Tell Me True, 1961. She also appeared in a series of dramas: A Summer Place 1959, Imitation of Life 1959, and Portrait in Black 1960. In 1960, while filming Come September , released in 1961, the 18 year old co-starred and fell in love with Bobby Darin. They were married in Dec. of 1960, which led to the birth of a son, Dodd the following year. The couple starred together in If a Man Aswers, 1962, and That Funny Feeling in 1965. Their marriage ended in 1967. When Darin died at the age of 37 from congestive heart failure, Dee went into severe depression and began drinking heavily and abusing drugs.
~ In the 70s she made a few appearances in TV movies. But ironically, it was the 1978 movie, Grease, with the song "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee," which poked fun at her wholesome personality. It also renewed her popularity with a new generation of movie goers.
~ Until her death, she had lived in Beverly Hills. She had been continuously battling her addictions with the help of her son.
~ In addition to her acting career, Sandra Dee also had a brief recording life. Her songs include: "Do It While You're Young" , and its B-side, "Questions" in 1960. Also in 1960, was "Dear Johnny"/"When I Fall in Love." Her final record was "Tammy Tell Me True"/"Let's Fall in Love" in 1961.
~
Some of the information above was found at the "Official Sandra Dee Web Site" : www.geocities.com/Hollywood
~
~No. 45
|
Fractured Etymology No.3
As promised, the Pointmeister has pulled a few more daffy-nitions out of his dictionary.
- Accident - This happens when you hit a rock while chopping
- Artisan - A painter's male kid
- Axe - Pose a question
- Cartography - The shape of an automobile
- Championship - The boat that won the race
- Copulate - What you say when the police is last at scene of crime
- Deferred - Clean shaven
- Example - No longer enough
- Hirsute - That girl's outfit
- Intramural - Large painting found inside
- Magpie - Dessert where recipe is found in Good Housekeeping
- Maximum - A large flower
- Minimum - A small flower
- Periwinkle - Winnie's brother?
- Relied - Told a fib again
- Sandwich - Mean old woman on the beach
- Storage - How long a shop has been open
- Television - Talk to a ghost
- Terrible - Nasty boy cow
- Violence - More than one purple flower
That's a few more for you lexicons out there. You'll be holding your breath until the next batch is pulled out the Pointmeister's magical dictionary.
No. 44
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Finnegan's Atoll
(Theme Song: Just sit right back and please read my blog, A blog stolen from a TV script, That started from my black Pilot pen, Aboard a sorry little ship.)
~ It started out as a short trip to Catalina. The Guppy had been refitted but not declared seaworthy. The captain, B. Butz (not affectionately called Big Butz around the marina) had blown his bank account on a weekend of carousing. He was going over the guest list for the Guppy's first cruise of the day. It was quite a list of characters for a three hour tour. Finnegan, the mate, swabbing the decks was trying without success to hide the fact that he had not used a bucket of water, but paint remover instead.
~ The five passengers, punctually late, were finally aboard. The oil tycoon had tripped and fallen from the gang plank into the polluted water in which this scow sat. He had tried to break his fall by grabbing at his teenage secretary, instead managing to tear the brief dress from her body. As she was wearing no underwear, she threw her small suit case in which the underwear she wasn't wearing was, in attempt to cover strategic parts of her body. The case struck the head of the computer geek, causing him to fall forward into the movie star, leaving them tangled in such a way that one could envision they were performing the dirty deed. The movie star, as it turned out was a porno star, thinking the camera was rolling, promptly tried to make the scene more realistic, began to remove as much of hers and his clothing as possible. The captain, deeming the teenager's position more dire, ignored the floundering tycoon in the water, and offered his hands as possible cover for those strategic parts of her nubile body. His awkward rush to her rescue caused his pants to slip down to his knees, resulting in him tackling her, wherein they also ended up in a compromising position. Emerging from around the cabin, Finnegan witnessed the scene, and thinking that he was missing out on an orgy, tried to remove his shirt forgetting he was holding a mop and bucket in one hand, which resulted with the shirt bunched on his arm. Pulling the shirt back over his head, and switching the mop and bucket to the other hand, once again tried to remove his shirt with same results. His mop handle however, tripped Carrie Ann, sending the bucket flying away and onto the head of the tycoon who had just managed to crawl back onto the gang plank, thus knocking him back into the water. As she looked around, she too thought an orgy was underway and grabbing the mop handle thought Finnegan was glad to see her, and proceeded to pull him down into a position more suitable to the goings on around them.
(Theme Song; Verse Two: The mate was a thin rail of a man, The skipper large and unsure. The five passengers out to see the sights, On a three hour tour ...A three hour tour.)
~ After the initial confusion of boarding, the Guppy finally chugged and coughed its way out to sea. The crew and the passengers were none the less for wear. Although they exchanged embarrassed glances at one another, they had decided to make the best of it.
~ Though it was raining and there were gale force winds, it was a nice day for a cruise. The tycoon did manage to fall overboard once, but a freak wave re-deposited him back on deck of the boat. The hemline of the secretary's dress was lifting and dropping with the wind gusts. The skipper, holding his pants up with one hand, was deftly steering the boat with the other. The computer geek was hit in the face three times with the same puke that Carrie Ann had hurled five minutes earlier. The porn star offered to help the captain with his pants, to which he readily agreed, even though she kept losing her grip dropping them forcing her to pull them back up. From behind them, this looked rather curious. Finnegan, the bright mate that he was, determined there was a storm brewing. With all her clothes wet, Carrie Ann had changed into a tiny bikini with spaghetti ties. That proved not to be so smart as a sudden gust blew both pieces off into the storm. Seeing this, Finnegan cried out, "No bikini at all!" This got the skipper's attention, "No
Bikini Atoll? We are way off course!"
(Theme Song; Verse Three: The weather had gotten so rough, That this tiny boat was tossed. If not for the passengers' help, The Guppy would be lost .. The Guppy would be lost.)
~ It was the next day when Finnegan awoke. He was lying in the sand, and there was no sign of the others. He stood up to discover he was wearing the secretary's tiny dress and it just barely covered him where he should be covered. He grinned at the thought of just what she might be wearing now. Following some footprints in the sand, he found the others. A curious look came to his face. The computer nerd was wearing Carrie Ann's tiny bikini. The porn star had fashioned herself an outfit of grass and palm leaves, all of which moved with her body, revealing then hiding her charms. The tycoon was kneeling trying to get a drink of water from a fresh water lagoon, promptly losing his balance and falling in. Carrie Ann had on the tight see-through body suit the porn star had worn earlier. He heard a scream and saw the secretary running in fear, her nude body glistening in the hot sun. Then there appeared the skipper giving chase to her. He would almost catch her, but then his pants would fall down, tripping him. He pulled up his pants and resumed the hunt, bumping into the tycoon as he climbed out the water, knocking him right back into the water. He reached out, tearing the body suit from Carrie Ann, causing her to throw a coconut, which struck the head of the nerd, his falling motion causing the bikini to fall off onto the ground, where it became tangled in the secretary's feet, tripping her into Finnegan with the bottom of the skirt flying up, causing him to grab the porn star's grass skirt....
(Theme Song; Verse Four: The ship was lost, Aground on an uncharted isle, With Finnegan, The fat skipper, The tycoon and his secretary, The porn star, The Puter nerd, and Carrie Ann, Here on Finnegan's Isle.)
(No phone, No TV, No Pizza Shops, Not a single change of clothes. Like Robinson Crusoe As primitive and naked as can be.)
~
~No. 43
~ It started out as a short trip to Catalina. The Guppy had been refitted but not declared seaworthy. The captain, B. Butz (not affectionately called Big Butz around the marina) had blown his bank account on a weekend of carousing. He was going over the guest list for the Guppy's first cruise of the day. It was quite a list of characters for a three hour tour. Finnegan, the mate, swabbing the decks was trying without success to hide the fact that he had not used a bucket of water, but paint remover instead.
~ The five passengers, punctually late, were finally aboard. The oil tycoon had tripped and fallen from the gang plank into the polluted water in which this scow sat. He had tried to break his fall by grabbing at his teenage secretary, instead managing to tear the brief dress from her body. As she was wearing no underwear, she threw her small suit case in which the underwear she wasn't wearing was, in attempt to cover strategic parts of her body. The case struck the head of the computer geek, causing him to fall forward into the movie star, leaving them tangled in such a way that one could envision they were performing the dirty deed. The movie star, as it turned out was a porno star, thinking the camera was rolling, promptly tried to make the scene more realistic, began to remove as much of hers and his clothing as possible. The captain, deeming the teenager's position more dire, ignored the floundering tycoon in the water, and offered his hands as possible cover for those strategic parts of her nubile body. His awkward rush to her rescue caused his pants to slip down to his knees, resulting in him tackling her, wherein they also ended up in a compromising position. Emerging from around the cabin, Finnegan witnessed the scene, and thinking that he was missing out on an orgy, tried to remove his shirt forgetting he was holding a mop and bucket in one hand, which resulted with the shirt bunched on his arm. Pulling the shirt back over his head, and switching the mop and bucket to the other hand, once again tried to remove his shirt with same results. His mop handle however, tripped Carrie Ann, sending the bucket flying away and onto the head of the tycoon who had just managed to crawl back onto the gang plank, thus knocking him back into the water. As she looked around, she too thought an orgy was underway and grabbing the mop handle thought Finnegan was glad to see her, and proceeded to pull him down into a position more suitable to the goings on around them.
(Theme Song; Verse Two: The mate was a thin rail of a man, The skipper large and unsure. The five passengers out to see the sights, On a three hour tour ...A three hour tour.)
~ After the initial confusion of boarding, the Guppy finally chugged and coughed its way out to sea. The crew and the passengers were none the less for wear. Although they exchanged embarrassed glances at one another, they had decided to make the best of it.
~ Though it was raining and there were gale force winds, it was a nice day for a cruise. The tycoon did manage to fall overboard once, but a freak wave re-deposited him back on deck of the boat. The hemline of the secretary's dress was lifting and dropping with the wind gusts. The skipper, holding his pants up with one hand, was deftly steering the boat with the other. The computer geek was hit in the face three times with the same puke that Carrie Ann had hurled five minutes earlier. The porn star offered to help the captain with his pants, to which he readily agreed, even though she kept losing her grip dropping them forcing her to pull them back up. From behind them, this looked rather curious. Finnegan, the bright mate that he was, determined there was a storm brewing. With all her clothes wet, Carrie Ann had changed into a tiny bikini with spaghetti ties. That proved not to be so smart as a sudden gust blew both pieces off into the storm. Seeing this, Finnegan cried out, "No bikini at all!" This got the skipper's attention, "No
Bikini Atoll? We are way off course!"
(Theme Song; Verse Three: The weather had gotten so rough, That this tiny boat was tossed. If not for the passengers' help, The Guppy would be lost .. The Guppy would be lost.)
~ It was the next day when Finnegan awoke. He was lying in the sand, and there was no sign of the others. He stood up to discover he was wearing the secretary's tiny dress and it just barely covered him where he should be covered. He grinned at the thought of just what she might be wearing now. Following some footprints in the sand, he found the others. A curious look came to his face. The computer nerd was wearing Carrie Ann's tiny bikini. The porn star had fashioned herself an outfit of grass and palm leaves, all of which moved with her body, revealing then hiding her charms. The tycoon was kneeling trying to get a drink of water from a fresh water lagoon, promptly losing his balance and falling in. Carrie Ann had on the tight see-through body suit the porn star had worn earlier. He heard a scream and saw the secretary running in fear, her nude body glistening in the hot sun. Then there appeared the skipper giving chase to her. He would almost catch her, but then his pants would fall down, tripping him. He pulled up his pants and resumed the hunt, bumping into the tycoon as he climbed out the water, knocking him right back into the water. He reached out, tearing the body suit from Carrie Ann, causing her to throw a coconut, which struck the head of the nerd, his falling motion causing the bikini to fall off onto the ground, where it became tangled in the secretary's feet, tripping her into Finnegan with the bottom of the skirt flying up, causing him to grab the porn star's grass skirt....
(Theme Song; Verse Four: The ship was lost, Aground on an uncharted isle, With Finnegan, The fat skipper, The tycoon and his secretary, The porn star, The Puter nerd, and Carrie Ann, Here on Finnegan's Isle.)
(No phone, No TV, No Pizza Shops, Not a single change of clothes. Like Robinson Crusoe As primitive and naked as can be.)
~
~No. 43
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Ginger or Mary Ann?
~ The Riddle of the Sphinx. Who built Stonehenge? I like to tackle the unknown. I wish to move the immovable. I thought there was no question so deep, so intense that it could not be answered.
~ Ginger or Mary Ann? Now there is a question that has been asked and the answer debated by men for years with no clear resolve. Whether over a beer at a local watering hole or by the water cooler in an office, the attributes of these two pretty castaways have remained in the male conscience. After all, some are enamored by Ginger the movie star and her glamour. Others, and I include myself in this group, preferred the down to earth wholesomeness of Mary Ann.
~ There are some other distaff duos worthy of debate. A few of them follow. (For the ladies out there, there is a list for to debate also after the mens' wish list.
~ Jeanie or Samantha? After the Ginger or Mary Ann debate, this one is also hotly contested. A genie or a witch? A sexy blonde in a bottle who obeys every command? Or a witch with strong convictions to please her husband and an overbearing mother? I see no debate, Jeanie hands down!!
~ Betty or Veronica? Come on Archie, your father owns a soda shop! Take the money! Go for Veronica. Reggie can have Betty.
~ Lee Merriweather, Julie Newmar, or Eartha Kitt? Who was the best TV Catwoman? As for me, I'd rather pat Julie as she curls up in my lap. Okay, okay, you neophytes out there. Michelle or Halle?
~ Bailey or Jennifer? Betty Jo, Bobbi Jo, or Billie Jo? Ellie Mae or Wrangler Jane? Ellie Mae or Daisy Dukes? Janet or Chrissie? Kate or Allie? Betty or Wilma? Seven of Nine, Deana Troy, or Beverly Crusher?
~
~ For the gals, I first venture back to Gilligan's Island. Did you women question the manhood of the four men stranded on that desert isle with Ginger and Mary Ann? Well, Mr. Howell we can excuse because his wife was there with him. (Does that give him a free pass?) But what about Gilligan, the Skipper, and the professor? All those years on an uncharted island, and not once was there a tryst? Not once did they peek through the bushes while the girls were bathing in the lagoon? Not once did any of them find time alone with one of the girls and at least try to make a move? For that matter girls, what would you do alone on an island, not knowing if you'd ever get rescued, with the three men? I suppose we can consider what the two had to choose from. Wanting filet mignon the only choice they had was Spam. What about the Skipper and Gilligan? What was all that "little buddy" stuff anyway? I have come to the conclusion that all three of them couldn't get lucky at a women's prison with a fistful of pardons.
~ So there is your first: Who could put their shows under your bed? the Skipper, Gilligan, or the professor?
~ Apollo or Starbuck? Adam, Little Joe, or Hoss? Starsky or Hutch? Heath or Jarrod? Fred or Barney? Jim Morrison or Elvis? Woody or Sam? Norm or Cliff? Perry Mason or Hamilton Burger? The Fonz or Richie? Picard or Kirk? J.R. or Bobby? Alex Trebek or Pat Sajak? Sugarfoot or Cheyenne?
~
~ Maybe there are other pairs of men that women would debate over their sexiness, virtues or assets! Feel free readers to leave a comment naming your pair.
~
~No.42
When it comes to sexy virtues, blue can answer to that!
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
~ Ginger or Mary Ann? Now there is a question that has been asked and the answer debated by men for years with no clear resolve. Whether over a beer at a local watering hole or by the water cooler in an office, the attributes of these two pretty castaways have remained in the male conscience. After all, some are enamored by Ginger the movie star and her glamour. Others, and I include myself in this group, preferred the down to earth wholesomeness of Mary Ann.
~ There are some other distaff duos worthy of debate. A few of them follow. (For the ladies out there, there is a list for to debate also after the mens' wish list.
~ Jeanie or Samantha? After the Ginger or Mary Ann debate, this one is also hotly contested. A genie or a witch? A sexy blonde in a bottle who obeys every command? Or a witch with strong convictions to please her husband and an overbearing mother? I see no debate, Jeanie hands down!!
~ Betty or Veronica? Come on Archie, your father owns a soda shop! Take the money! Go for Veronica. Reggie can have Betty.
~ Lee Merriweather, Julie Newmar, or Eartha Kitt? Who was the best TV Catwoman? As for me, I'd rather pat Julie as she curls up in my lap. Okay, okay, you neophytes out there. Michelle or Halle?
~ Bailey or Jennifer? Betty Jo, Bobbi Jo, or Billie Jo? Ellie Mae or Wrangler Jane? Ellie Mae or Daisy Dukes? Janet or Chrissie? Kate or Allie? Betty or Wilma? Seven of Nine, Deana Troy, or Beverly Crusher?
~
~ For the gals, I first venture back to Gilligan's Island. Did you women question the manhood of the four men stranded on that desert isle with Ginger and Mary Ann? Well, Mr. Howell we can excuse because his wife was there with him. (Does that give him a free pass?) But what about Gilligan, the Skipper, and the professor? All those years on an uncharted island, and not once was there a tryst? Not once did they peek through the bushes while the girls were bathing in the lagoon? Not once did any of them find time alone with one of the girls and at least try to make a move? For that matter girls, what would you do alone on an island, not knowing if you'd ever get rescued, with the three men? I suppose we can consider what the two had to choose from. Wanting filet mignon the only choice they had was Spam. What about the Skipper and Gilligan? What was all that "little buddy" stuff anyway? I have come to the conclusion that all three of them couldn't get lucky at a women's prison with a fistful of pardons.
~ So there is your first: Who could put their shows under your bed? the Skipper, Gilligan, or the professor?
~ Apollo or Starbuck? Adam, Little Joe, or Hoss? Starsky or Hutch? Heath or Jarrod? Fred or Barney? Jim Morrison or Elvis? Woody or Sam? Norm or Cliff? Perry Mason or Hamilton Burger? The Fonz or Richie? Picard or Kirk? J.R. or Bobby? Alex Trebek or Pat Sajak? Sugarfoot or Cheyenne?
~
~ Maybe there are other pairs of men that women would debate over their sexiness, virtues or assets! Feel free readers to leave a comment naming your pair.
~
~No.42
When it comes to sexy virtues, blue can answer to that!
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Friday, February 18, 2005
Crash Test for Dummies
~ It was announced today, Friday 2/18/05, in Los Angeles, that Samuel Alderson has died at the are of 90. Sandy, as was known, had worked with top scientists and physicists with the development of the Atomic Bomb. However, this is not for what he will be most remembered. Mr. Alderson was the inventor of the Crash Test Dummy. His work began designing test dummies for use in ejection seats for the new jet planes after World War II. The automotive industry was quick to call upon him to create crash dummies for their car safety tests.
~ It must have been a curious sight to the residents of Los Angeles when several hundred off-duty crash dummies showed up to pay their respects to their creator. Appropriately, one of them played Funeral March of the Marionettes,
also known as the theme to TV's "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." Although not a test dummy himself, but recognized in a splinter group as a cousin, the eulogy was given by Pinnochio.
~ Alderson's lineage could be traced back to ancient Greece. An ancestor was credited with building the famed Trojan Horse. Intended to be the equivalent of today's SUV, it was seized by the Grecian military and converted into a troop carrier for use in their war with Troy.
~ Prior to using his dummies, the automotive industry had actually used corpses. These, however, proved to be ineffective as they did not mimic the living human body in an accident. Also there had been an outcry over the use of corpses by the Cadavers Civil Liberties Union, the CCLU. An urban legend persists to this day that actual footage of a protest march by the corpses was used in the cult film "Night of the Living Dead."
~ His design for the crash dummies, revolutionized automobile safety practices, effectively putting cadavers out of work. His dummies were human-like and could be articulated into the same positions as real humans. With the aid of sensors linked to computers, the crash experts were able to trace and record every movement of the body in high speed collisions.
~ It wasn't long before protests were heard regarding the welfare of the dummies. The protesters specifically cited the use of dummy children. Perhaps spurred by Jerry Falwell and his ilk, the dummies organized forming the powerful DUH Union. Dummies United in Hope brought about changes that not only protected themselves, but were also applicable to human use and safety. Products of their efforts included seat belts and shoulder straps. A collective bargaining agreement with the automakers resulted in the air bag.
~ Over the years, protest and rights' groups fought for further benefits and protection for the dummies. Women's groups threw out the fact that were few women dummies in the work force. Decency groups lashed out about the open nudity of the crash test dummies. The nudity issue was quashed by the dummies themselves, noting the fact that they were not anatomically correct, having no organs whatsoever. It was dummies who raised concerns over the use of spare body parts. Their arguments mirroring those of their human counterparts' issues with cloning and stem cell research. Then there was the sticky matter over the simplified self help books that were flooding the market, for example "Windows For Dummies." There is continuing litigation concerning this issue. The only other possible controversy involving the crash test dummies occurred when a traffic cop questioned why the dummies were not required to have drivers licenses.
~ Humanity owes a lot to our mannequin test friends. No greater tribute was paid them, than that of a rock band that adopted the name "The Crash Test Dummies."
~
~No. 41
To see how another dummy crashes, put on your seatbelt and drive over to:
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
~ It must have been a curious sight to the residents of Los Angeles when several hundred off-duty crash dummies showed up to pay their respects to their creator. Appropriately, one of them played Funeral March of the Marionettes,
also known as the theme to TV's "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." Although not a test dummy himself, but recognized in a splinter group as a cousin, the eulogy was given by Pinnochio.
~ Alderson's lineage could be traced back to ancient Greece. An ancestor was credited with building the famed Trojan Horse. Intended to be the equivalent of today's SUV, it was seized by the Grecian military and converted into a troop carrier for use in their war with Troy.
~ Prior to using his dummies, the automotive industry had actually used corpses. These, however, proved to be ineffective as they did not mimic the living human body in an accident. Also there had been an outcry over the use of corpses by the Cadavers Civil Liberties Union, the CCLU. An urban legend persists to this day that actual footage of a protest march by the corpses was used in the cult film "Night of the Living Dead."
~ His design for the crash dummies, revolutionized automobile safety practices, effectively putting cadavers out of work. His dummies were human-like and could be articulated into the same positions as real humans. With the aid of sensors linked to computers, the crash experts were able to trace and record every movement of the body in high speed collisions.
~ It wasn't long before protests were heard regarding the welfare of the dummies. The protesters specifically cited the use of dummy children. Perhaps spurred by Jerry Falwell and his ilk, the dummies organized forming the powerful DUH Union. Dummies United in Hope brought about changes that not only protected themselves, but were also applicable to human use and safety. Products of their efforts included seat belts and shoulder straps. A collective bargaining agreement with the automakers resulted in the air bag.
~ Over the years, protest and rights' groups fought for further benefits and protection for the dummies. Women's groups threw out the fact that were few women dummies in the work force. Decency groups lashed out about the open nudity of the crash test dummies. The nudity issue was quashed by the dummies themselves, noting the fact that they were not anatomically correct, having no organs whatsoever. It was dummies who raised concerns over the use of spare body parts. Their arguments mirroring those of their human counterparts' issues with cloning and stem cell research. Then there was the sticky matter over the simplified self help books that were flooding the market, for example "Windows For Dummies." There is continuing litigation concerning this issue. The only other possible controversy involving the crash test dummies occurred when a traffic cop questioned why the dummies were not required to have drivers licenses.
~ Humanity owes a lot to our mannequin test friends. No greater tribute was paid them, than that of a rock band that adopted the name "The Crash Test Dummies."
~
~No. 41
To see how another dummy crashes, put on your seatbelt and drive over to:
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Cell Phones in History
~ What if cell phones had been developed much earlier in our history? How would history have played out if the famous and the infamous had had access to cell phones? Chances are that it would be a much different world than that which we live in now. If I may, I submit the following scenarios:
~
~ "Come here, Watson. I need you." Bell exclaimed into his latest invention. It appeared that the device didn't work. Five minutes later Watson entered the room flipping his cell shut, "Sorry, boss. The wife called to me tell me to pick up some milk and bread on the way home." The hammer in Alexander's hand made short work of the failed invention. (( Most assuredly there would be little or no telephone poles these days. ))
~ "Clyde! Your brother here. You and Bonnie had better take the next left and get off that road. I heard there might be some trouble straight ahead." (( Think of all the ammunition that wouldn't have been wasted. They have gotten another 10,000 miles out of that car. ))
~ "Paul! Pick up, Paul!" yelled the man into his cell phone from the tower of the Old North Church. "Damn! He must have entered that dead spot between Lexington and Concord. Now what was I supposed to do with these lanterns?" (( On the other hand, no one said cell phones were the end all and that they would necessarily improve communications all the time. ))
~ From the cell phone lying next to the body Gen. George Armstrong Custer, was this unanswered voice mail: "General Custer, this headquarters. Proceed to Large Big Horn. Avoid Little Big Horn. There is a large uprising of Indians in that area. Repeat, avoid Little Big Horn!" (( What good is voice mail if you aren't going to use it? ))
~ "Hello?" the tall man said into his Nokia. "Mr. Lincoln," replied the man on the line, "this is your press secretary. You have given complimentary tickets to Our American Cousin. The star, Mr. Booth, has reserved for you the best balcony seats in the house." "Okay, thanks. Do me a favor and cancel the train tickets for that trip." (( With a cell phone you can purchase your own tickets for even sold out shows. Why depend on favors you have to repay someday? ))
~ " (Static)...Earhart...(static)...Turn left to course...(static)...1-8-0...(static)...North by nor...(static)..." "Hello? Hello? Damn! My cell phone just died! I think he said course 0-8-0. Okay, Here we go." (( GPS isn't much good if you cannot keep your cell phone charged. At least a man would have stopped and asked for directions. ))
~ "Mr. Wells, we go on the air in 30 seconds," said the producer. "Just a sec, please. I'd better check this voice mail..." "Orson, this is the station manager I have a change in programming. Since this is Halloween night, use The Legend of Sleepy Hollow routine. Save War of the Worlds for next week." (( Who knows, maybe there still would have been a panic. This time they would be fleeing a headless horseman run amok.))
~
~ Yes, the course of history could have taken some strange twists and turns, such that everything we know might not have ever happened. Who Knows? Michael Jackson could have been elected President on his "Thriller Ticket." Ben and Jennifer could have waited for a better script resulting in the two of them winning best actor and actress awards. The Titanic would be a floating restaurant/hotel in Izmir, Turkey. Maybe it would have been the Aztecs who first landed on the moon. Tiny Tim and Miss Vicky might have stayed married and had children. (Shudder) Ellen Degeneres might have been straight. The man who voiced Popeye might have instead voiced Barney. Michael Bolton might have recorded a good song! Nah........!
~
~No. 40
Check out a friend of the Pointmeister at
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
~
~ "Come here, Watson. I need you." Bell exclaimed into his latest invention. It appeared that the device didn't work. Five minutes later Watson entered the room flipping his cell shut, "Sorry, boss. The wife called to me tell me to pick up some milk and bread on the way home." The hammer in Alexander's hand made short work of the failed invention. (( Most assuredly there would be little or no telephone poles these days. ))
~ "Clyde! Your brother here. You and Bonnie had better take the next left and get off that road. I heard there might be some trouble straight ahead." (( Think of all the ammunition that wouldn't have been wasted. They have gotten another 10,000 miles out of that car. ))
~ "Paul! Pick up, Paul!" yelled the man into his cell phone from the tower of the Old North Church. "Damn! He must have entered that dead spot between Lexington and Concord. Now what was I supposed to do with these lanterns?" (( On the other hand, no one said cell phones were the end all and that they would necessarily improve communications all the time. ))
~ From the cell phone lying next to the body Gen. George Armstrong Custer, was this unanswered voice mail: "General Custer, this headquarters. Proceed to Large Big Horn. Avoid Little Big Horn. There is a large uprising of Indians in that area. Repeat, avoid Little Big Horn!" (( What good is voice mail if you aren't going to use it? ))
~ "Hello?" the tall man said into his Nokia. "Mr. Lincoln," replied the man on the line, "this is your press secretary. You have given complimentary tickets to Our American Cousin. The star, Mr. Booth, has reserved for you the best balcony seats in the house." "Okay, thanks. Do me a favor and cancel the train tickets for that trip." (( With a cell phone you can purchase your own tickets for even sold out shows. Why depend on favors you have to repay someday? ))
~ " (Static)...Earhart...(static)...Turn left to course...(static)...1-8-0...(static)...North by nor...(static)..." "Hello? Hello? Damn! My cell phone just died! I think he said course 0-8-0. Okay, Here we go." (( GPS isn't much good if you cannot keep your cell phone charged. At least a man would have stopped and asked for directions. ))
~ "Mr. Wells, we go on the air in 30 seconds," said the producer. "Just a sec, please. I'd better check this voice mail..." "Orson, this is the station manager I have a change in programming. Since this is Halloween night, use The Legend of Sleepy Hollow routine. Save War of the Worlds for next week." (( Who knows, maybe there still would have been a panic. This time they would be fleeing a headless horseman run amok.))
~
~ Yes, the course of history could have taken some strange twists and turns, such that everything we know might not have ever happened. Who Knows? Michael Jackson could have been elected President on his "Thriller Ticket." Ben and Jennifer could have waited for a better script resulting in the two of them winning best actor and actress awards. The Titanic would be a floating restaurant/hotel in Izmir, Turkey. Maybe it would have been the Aztecs who first landed on the moon. Tiny Tim and Miss Vicky might have stayed married and had children. (Shudder) Ellen Degeneres might have been straight. The man who voiced Popeye might have instead voiced Barney. Michael Bolton might have recorded a good song! Nah........!
~
~No. 40
Check out a friend of the Pointmeister at
http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Thursday, February 17, 2005
The Six Dollar Man
~ The scene: an isolated laboratory of Acme Bionics. The man was mangled, pieces of his body missing or charred, lay upon the operating table. Gathered around him wearing surgical masks, was a team of specialists. Among them were surgeons, biotechnicians, neurologists, computer programmers, a used car salesman, and a man who had stayed at Best Western the night before.
~ Their discussions echoed resoundingly, "We can rebuild him. We can make him faster, stronger, better!" "Why can't we, ahem, make him bigger too?" said the lone woman of the team. The man had had no insurance, but the team had already struck a huge TV deal. They knew they had a hit on their hands, er on the operating table. Knowing that the man would agree to the operation considering the alternative, they found a wino outside to sign the release forms. Thusly, the marathon operation began.
~ There was some debate over where the key should be inserted to power the man on and off. The rectum, ears, and under the tongue were ruled out in favor of the navel, although they had to change it to an innie.
~ It would be several months later before the man was able to begin a rigorous rehab program. Counting the huge TV deal, now in the scripting phase, the final cost for the massive project came to $6.00. Upon successful completion of rehab, he was free to test his new body on a special facility they had built. Countless exercise reps and tests of his new powers were run repeatedly. Eventually he had mastered them all, although the entire compound had been leveled in the process.
~ It became apparent early on that he had taken more than a casual interest in one of the specialists. Although the distaff member of the team continued to try to use the key a few inches below the navel, he tended to ignore her. She had been persistent in showing her interest in him, after all it was she who had suggested that he made bigger than he had been before the accident. However, it was the video game designer who received most of his attention. They were often seen together testing joysticks.
~ As luck would have it, another tragic accident produced another two patients. A beautiful young blonde and her dog, a German Shepherd had been struck by a section of wall that the Six Dollar Man had accidentally knocked over when he sneezed after attempting to snort 25 grams of cocaine at once. The team, except for the woman and the video game designer, had decided that a bionic woman would make the ideal mate for a Six Dollar Man.
~ Tracking down the wino again, they had the release forms endorsed. Then it began, another marathon operation, this time on the woman and her dog. Again there was a debate over the on-of switches and where the key would be inserted. The obvious choice for all the men, except the video game designer and the woman, was rejected. They settled for the navel for her too. The dog, however, had its switch installed in the back of its neck away from the jaws without debate. ~ Several months later, all the while the Six Dollar Man had been perfecting his new skills and powers, the Seven Dollar Woman began her tests. Although they had also garnered a rich TV deal for her, certain details had run up her price tag. They had made her faster, stronger, better, and because they ceded to their female associate about the man's anatomy, she did not protest that they had made the seven Dollar Woman bigger also. They did have to over-extend the budget a tad more to develop a special $250 bra.
~ The day finally came when the faster, stronger, better and bigger Six Dollar Man met the faster, stronger, better and bigger Seven Dollar Woman. Also joining the bionic couple was the Five Thousand Dollar Dog. It turned out that because of brain complexities, the dog had required more extensive programming. The three of them sized up each other, taking in the other's faces and bulges beneath their spandex outfits. They touched each other's hands testing the feel and strength of the other. Then abruptly they raced away with blinding speed, the dog chasing after them. They were moving so fast it appeared they were moving in slow motion like a cheap TV special effect.
~ After they had disappeared behind a rise, the specialists smiled, except for female member and the video game designer. They knew that the three of them had sought privacy to get acquainted. There was an explosion of activity as whole trees, a couple of HumVees, and a wino were seen flying into the sky. Fortunately the wino landed in a nearby pond, suddenly sober, but none the worse for wear.
~ Presently the bionic trio returned. Five thousand thirteen dollars (five thousand two hundred- sixty three if you count the bra) worth of technology stood before them. The specialists, except the woman and the video game designer, were relieved that they were compatible, because the TV people were beginning to pressure them. The bionics announced their plans to wed to the surprised specialists. The Six Dollar Man stepped forward and took the hand of the video game designer. The Seven Dollar Woman knelt and took the front paw of the Five Thousand Dollar Dog.
~ There was a double wedding, the network canceled the deal, and Acme Bionics declared bankruptcy. It has been rumored that the Seven Dollar Woman, the Six Dollar Man, and the Five Thousand Dollar Dog are all expecting. This has not been confirmed.
~
~No. 39
~ Their discussions echoed resoundingly, "We can rebuild him. We can make him faster, stronger, better!" "Why can't we, ahem, make him bigger too?" said the lone woman of the team. The man had had no insurance, but the team had already struck a huge TV deal. They knew they had a hit on their hands, er on the operating table. Knowing that the man would agree to the operation considering the alternative, they found a wino outside to sign the release forms. Thusly, the marathon operation began.
~ There was some debate over where the key should be inserted to power the man on and off. The rectum, ears, and under the tongue were ruled out in favor of the navel, although they had to change it to an innie.
~ It would be several months later before the man was able to begin a rigorous rehab program. Counting the huge TV deal, now in the scripting phase, the final cost for the massive project came to $6.00. Upon successful completion of rehab, he was free to test his new body on a special facility they had built. Countless exercise reps and tests of his new powers were run repeatedly. Eventually he had mastered them all, although the entire compound had been leveled in the process.
~ It became apparent early on that he had taken more than a casual interest in one of the specialists. Although the distaff member of the team continued to try to use the key a few inches below the navel, he tended to ignore her. She had been persistent in showing her interest in him, after all it was she who had suggested that he made bigger than he had been before the accident. However, it was the video game designer who received most of his attention. They were often seen together testing joysticks.
~ As luck would have it, another tragic accident produced another two patients. A beautiful young blonde and her dog, a German Shepherd had been struck by a section of wall that the Six Dollar Man had accidentally knocked over when he sneezed after attempting to snort 25 grams of cocaine at once. The team, except for the woman and the video game designer, had decided that a bionic woman would make the ideal mate for a Six Dollar Man.
~ Tracking down the wino again, they had the release forms endorsed. Then it began, another marathon operation, this time on the woman and her dog. Again there was a debate over the on-of switches and where the key would be inserted. The obvious choice for all the men, except the video game designer and the woman, was rejected. They settled for the navel for her too. The dog, however, had its switch installed in the back of its neck away from the jaws without debate. ~ Several months later, all the while the Six Dollar Man had been perfecting his new skills and powers, the Seven Dollar Woman began her tests. Although they had also garnered a rich TV deal for her, certain details had run up her price tag. They had made her faster, stronger, better, and because they ceded to their female associate about the man's anatomy, she did not protest that they had made the seven Dollar Woman bigger also. They did have to over-extend the budget a tad more to develop a special $250 bra.
~ The day finally came when the faster, stronger, better and bigger Six Dollar Man met the faster, stronger, better and bigger Seven Dollar Woman. Also joining the bionic couple was the Five Thousand Dollar Dog. It turned out that because of brain complexities, the dog had required more extensive programming. The three of them sized up each other, taking in the other's faces and bulges beneath their spandex outfits. They touched each other's hands testing the feel and strength of the other. Then abruptly they raced away with blinding speed, the dog chasing after them. They were moving so fast it appeared they were moving in slow motion like a cheap TV special effect.
~ After they had disappeared behind a rise, the specialists smiled, except for female member and the video game designer. They knew that the three of them had sought privacy to get acquainted. There was an explosion of activity as whole trees, a couple of HumVees, and a wino were seen flying into the sky. Fortunately the wino landed in a nearby pond, suddenly sober, but none the worse for wear.
~ Presently the bionic trio returned. Five thousand thirteen dollars (five thousand two hundred- sixty three if you count the bra) worth of technology stood before them. The specialists, except the woman and the video game designer, were relieved that they were compatible, because the TV people were beginning to pressure them. The bionics announced their plans to wed to the surprised specialists. The Six Dollar Man stepped forward and took the hand of the video game designer. The Seven Dollar Woman knelt and took the front paw of the Five Thousand Dollar Dog.
~ There was a double wedding, the network canceled the deal, and Acme Bionics declared bankruptcy. It has been rumored that the Seven Dollar Woman, the Six Dollar Man, and the Five Thousand Dollar Dog are all expecting. This has not been confirmed.
~
~No. 39
|
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Affair Remembered
-Dear readers, please read all of the following paragraphs and reserve your feelings about these lines until you have finished reading. Remember, things are not always what they may seem.
~
~ I felt her eyes upon me. She had been studying me for several minutes. She set down her drink and reached out for me. When she touched me, I was swept up into the moment. Her knowing fingers first slowly moved upward and then slowly down. I felt her warm finger tips upon me sending shivers through me. I felt one finger pause at the tip of me as another traced and arcing path below.
~ She turned me, perhaps looking for the right spot. She raised me as if for a closer look and I obliged her proudly. It was then that I felt warmth of her lips upon me. Opening those lips she drew my tip ever so slightly between them. I nearly lost it as her tongue flicked against me.
~ Her fingers below slipped methodically down the length of me, testing my firmness. I was weakening, but excited, anticipating every touch of her fingers. Her tongue once again played upon me. Suddenly, there was a rush, like a searing boiling point had been reached. I felt the heat course through the entire shaft. All the while, her lips tight grip
increased as she drew in her breath. The entire length of me felt like it was on fire! Then there was a teasing breath exhaled back upon me. Having little time to savor that sensation, her lips then pursed again as she drew in more deeply than before.
~ Just when I thought I could take no more, she pulled me away from her moist lips. Her eyes appeared glazed and yet they remained on me. I could see her fumbling at the draw string of her robe with her free hand, daringly baring more of her glistening body.
~ Then she pulled me up again first against, then between, and finally into her parting lips. She inhaled, drawing on me long and hard. I wanted to scream! I couldn't contain myself when her tongue again touched and lingered at the end of me. Once again she exhaled her hot breath, yet so cool upon me, but this time she held me against one of the parted lips. Through the lips, I could just make out the moist tip of her tongue. It was moving toward me as she drew me toward it.
~ Once again she drew long, hard, and deep. It felt like my whole length was being consumed by fire. I was still feverish as she pulled me away from her face. I could see that now the robe was gone, a heap at her feet. As I was taking the vision of her nude body, I suddenly felt smaller, less full. It was as if I were dwindling. What was happening to me? I was shrinking....
~ She was then pushing upon me. This pushing became more frantic and desperate. She leaned back, settling into the hot bath water. I caught but a glimpse of a bare breast. Her fingers were easing their hold on me as she gave one final thrust upon my spent form.
~ I closed my eyes, releasing my inner tensions. I had experienced the ecstasy of a beautiful woman's lips upon me. I had been thrilled by her touch. It was an affair, a seven minute affair that satisfied both of us. I wasn't her first and I wouldn't be her last. For me it would the affair of a lifetime. An affair remembered forever. She, naked in the steaming bath as I lay spent, crushed, and crumbled. I was but a remnant, a reminder of an affair, an affair of a woman and a cigarette now flacid in an ashtray.
~
~I wish to note here that the above is not an original work or idea by me. I remember this from high school in the mid sixties. It probably originated long before that. I first saw it as a faded xerox copy. It has probably been floating around several decades before the internet came into being. I am sure it has taken on many forms and styles and been rewritten many times to reflect era and the existing mores. My version is just another rewrite copied from my memory. - the Pointmeister
~
~No. 38
~
~ I felt her eyes upon me. She had been studying me for several minutes. She set down her drink and reached out for me. When she touched me, I was swept up into the moment. Her knowing fingers first slowly moved upward and then slowly down. I felt her warm finger tips upon me sending shivers through me. I felt one finger pause at the tip of me as another traced and arcing path below.
~ She turned me, perhaps looking for the right spot. She raised me as if for a closer look and I obliged her proudly. It was then that I felt warmth of her lips upon me. Opening those lips she drew my tip ever so slightly between them. I nearly lost it as her tongue flicked against me.
~ Her fingers below slipped methodically down the length of me, testing my firmness. I was weakening, but excited, anticipating every touch of her fingers. Her tongue once again played upon me. Suddenly, there was a rush, like a searing boiling point had been reached. I felt the heat course through the entire shaft. All the while, her lips tight grip
increased as she drew in her breath. The entire length of me felt like it was on fire! Then there was a teasing breath exhaled back upon me. Having little time to savor that sensation, her lips then pursed again as she drew in more deeply than before.
~ Just when I thought I could take no more, she pulled me away from her moist lips. Her eyes appeared glazed and yet they remained on me. I could see her fumbling at the draw string of her robe with her free hand, daringly baring more of her glistening body.
~ Then she pulled me up again first against, then between, and finally into her parting lips. She inhaled, drawing on me long and hard. I wanted to scream! I couldn't contain myself when her tongue again touched and lingered at the end of me. Once again she exhaled her hot breath, yet so cool upon me, but this time she held me against one of the parted lips. Through the lips, I could just make out the moist tip of her tongue. It was moving toward me as she drew me toward it.
~ Once again she drew long, hard, and deep. It felt like my whole length was being consumed by fire. I was still feverish as she pulled me away from her face. I could see that now the robe was gone, a heap at her feet. As I was taking the vision of her nude body, I suddenly felt smaller, less full. It was as if I were dwindling. What was happening to me? I was shrinking....
~ She was then pushing upon me. This pushing became more frantic and desperate. She leaned back, settling into the hot bath water. I caught but a glimpse of a bare breast. Her fingers were easing their hold on me as she gave one final thrust upon my spent form.
~ I closed my eyes, releasing my inner tensions. I had experienced the ecstasy of a beautiful woman's lips upon me. I had been thrilled by her touch. It was an affair, a seven minute affair that satisfied both of us. I wasn't her first and I wouldn't be her last. For me it would the affair of a lifetime. An affair remembered forever. She, naked in the steaming bath as I lay spent, crushed, and crumbled. I was but a remnant, a reminder of an affair, an affair of a woman and a cigarette now flacid in an ashtray.
~
~I wish to note here that the above is not an original work or idea by me. I remember this from high school in the mid sixties. It probably originated long before that. I first saw it as a faded xerox copy. It has probably been floating around several decades before the internet came into being. I am sure it has taken on many forms and styles and been rewritten many times to reflect era and the existing mores. My version is just another rewrite copied from my memory. - the Pointmeister
~
~No. 38
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