Thursday, March 31, 2005
Cartography as it is defined in the Pointmeister's Dictionary (see Blog No. 44, "Fractured Etymology No.3" dtd 2/21/05) is the shape of an automobile. Though not as easy as it was in the 50's and 60's, the shape of a car is distinct and can be easily identified as to make, model and year.
* In several chats, especially with fellow blogger, blue (http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com) we have discussed cars, usually the boss muscle cars. While on that subject, invariably there would be references to well known vehicles featured on television programs. In some cases we agreed that those cars were actually the stars of the shows.
* Surfing the net recently, I came across information on one George Barris. Barris, you could say is the godfather of custom cars. If you have watched even a little TV over the years, chances are good that you seen one or more of his creations. Most of the well known television rides were designed and built by Mr. Barris. If you were to name an iconic automobile from a TV show, it was almost certainly from his shops.
* Both TV Guide and TV Land came out with their lists of the Top 10 TV Cars of all time. George Barris's products were prominently represented on both lists. In fact, he held nine of the top ten from the TV Guide list.
* One of his first designs was the jalopy used by The Beverly Hillbillies. On another creation, he put together the bodies of three separate Model-T's to create an 18-foot car with coffin handles and spider web metal work. This of course was the Munster's Koach from the TV show The Munsters. Remember The Monkees? They rode around in Barris' Monkee Mobile. A Dodge Charger was used to become General Lee for The Dukes of Hazzard . Souping up a Ford Torino, he presented to the studios the car that would be used by Starsky and Hutch.
* Why not give the viewing audience a talking car that could drive itself? Barris did just that, supplying David Hasselhoff with a black '82 Pontiac Trans Am named KITT. With a flashing strobe light and capable of hitting 100 MPH in 3.5 seconds, this car was the star of The Knight Rider, allowing Hasselhoff to flex his muscles.
* Barris has also created memorable automobiles for the big screen. There was the possessed car that tormented James Brolin in the film, The Car. His first choice being a German-made GM Opel, how could we have loved Herbie? Since the Opel didn't look amorous enough, he chose a classic Volkswagen Bug to be The Love Bug. How could've John Goodman and Rick Moranis as Fred Flinstone and Barney Rubble made to work with out a car? Yes, the Flint-Mobile was a Barris creation from the Spielberg movie, The Flintstones. How could The Ghostbusters save the world without Ecto-1, a converted ambulance? Christopher LLoyd and Michael J. Fox could not have attempted time travel in the Back to the Future trilogy without Barris' De Lorean?
* Voted the most recognizable car in the world, Barris took a $250,000 concept car, a 1955 Ford Futura, spent $15,000 to modify it, and gave the Caped Crusader and Boy Wonder one slick set of wheels. Of course the reference is to the original Batmobile! Both TV Guide and TV Land had the Batmobile at the top of their lists as the greatest TV car of all time.
Besides information found at the sites for TV Guide and TV Land, and Barris.com, additional facts were found in American Media Inc., a special publication Vol. 5, No.2 dtd Mar '05 "Where Are They Now?" Also used was http://www.javelinamx.com/carstars.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
I recently found this quiz in a dictionary on the shelf by the computer. I had at one time torn it from a magazine for future reference I suppose. I have no idea from what magazine or when it was published. There is no reference to an author or a study group. So, somewhere and somewhen, I took this article and stuck it in that book. From marks I had written upon it, it is painfully clear that I didn't fare so well, scoring only 3 out of 10. Then again, I have never claimed to be a dietician.
----------------------------------------WHAT'S YOUR CALORIE I.Q.?---
- Which usually has more calories: frozen chicken pot pie (1 serving) or pork tenderloin (3.5 oz.)?
- Chicken with cashews (1 cup) or sweet-and-sour pork with rice (1cup)?
- Fast-food taco salad with shell or Quarter-pound burger?
- A 6-inch roast beef submarine sandwich or a 6-inch tuna sub?
- Grated Parmesan cheese (1 table spoon) or roasted pumpkin seeds (1 oz.)?
- Grape Nuts cereal (1/2 cup) or Cheerios (1/2 cup)?
- Hot-and-sour soup (1 cup) or cheese-and-broccoli soup (1 cup)?
- Champagne (4 oz.) or margarita (4 oz.) ?
- Soft-serve ice-cream cone (1/2 cup ice cream) or yogurt covered raisins (1/2 cup)?
- Caesar salad (2 cups) or mixed-green salad with vinaigrette (2 cups)?
* The answers follow with the highest calorie content and count listed first for each question.
- Pot pie 567, Pork tenderloin 171
- Chicken 409, Pork 270
- Taco salad 850, Burger 420
- Tuna 527, Roast beef 288
- Seeds 126, Cheese 23
- Grape Nuts 208, Cheerios 55
- Cheese and broccoli 330, Hot and sour 134
- Margarita 240, Champagne 92
- Raisins 313, Ice cream cone 145
- Caesar salad 550, Mixed greens 175
* Well I hope you fared better than me. I should start learning these kinds of things of though. I am not getting any younger. I still like to eat though, and quite frankly well over of half of those 20 items above I don't even like. Yeah, you guessed it, the half I like are on the high end of the calorie count! Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow you diet! Please note that I said you and not I !
Monday, March 28, 2005
* These phones also have the ability to download ring tones. What ever happened to the ordinary bell ring? Hmm, in fact a bell ring just might be considered unique and unusual. In other words, a bell ring could very well be the next "hot" feature that everyone will want. Imagine that!
* Cell phones now have MP3 capabilities. Coming soon, there will be cell phones that will be aable to link up with Satellite Radio. Not mentioned so far is the cost of having and using all of these add-on features. Never mind the monthly bill from the phone service provider, but all those features cost money. Just ask any parent with a teenager who has a cell phone bill of $400 to $1000 a month.
* I am waiting with great patience for the technology to catch up to my needs. How about a television set that allows me to flip through the two hundred plus channels they provide and actually find something worth watching.
* I am waiting for a practical and affordable waay to access the internet through my TV set. Since my telephone, cable and internet all come through the same fibre optic cable, this should be no problem as far as logistics. Whether the hookup would be relatively simple. I can almost picture gaming, e-mailing and web surfing on a 30 inch screen as opposed to a 19 inch monitor.
* Last week I bought a camera with a built-in telephone! You can take a picture and then make a call and send it to another party! Pretty cool, huh? What's that? Cellular telephones already do that? Yeah, I knew that, but I wasn't finished mentioning all the features this baby has. Check it out! If I call a number and someone answers, I can take a picture of them through the phone line without a cam. Imagine the fun I am going to have with this gadget.
* Suppose I found her number and got connected with Pamela Anderson; she answers while she was dressing or in the shower or in the middle of an intimate act, all I would have to do is snap a photograph and "draw", not send, the image to my camera/phone. She hangs up, but I have an instant digital photograph. Can your cell phone do that? No? Oh, I see. You have to take a picture, then call up a friend and then send them the photo you just took. Well, mine can do that too! Let me see if I have this right, you have a cell phone that can take pictures like a camera. But I have a camera that can make phone calls!
* (Of course, I would be a little more selective in who I would try to call for a shower shot. THere are enough Pamela Anderson photos, nude or not, out there. I just had a horrible thought! What if I dialed by acideent the residence of Rosy O'Donnell and Ellen Degeneres was there in the shower with her? Ugh! Talk about pornography!)
* Coming soon: Rectal Thermometers with built-in cameras/phones
*For a low brow view of high-tech check out: http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Sunday, March 27, 2005
* Nonetheless, Hillbilly humor is colorful and can be compared to Redneck humor in many ways. Jeff Foxworthy has made a nice living with it. Hillbillies are romantics too. Take a gander at a few Valentine's Day greeting cards sent to the wives and girl friends of some Applachian good ol' boys.
- You are as warm and cuddly as my old hound dog, Beauregard.
- I'd climb mountains for you. I'd swim rivers for you. For you, I would even take a bath.
- Next to my pickup, you are the love of my life.
- I love those cozy winter nights by the fireplace with all that wood you chopped.
- Darling, you make me as hot as those hand dryers in a turnpike restroom.
- My love for you runs hotter than a "74 Nova with a V-8 engine and a busted water pump.
- Your kisses are sweeter than wine, but without the paper bag.
Hillbillies are warm and cuddly characters also. This can be readily evidenced by the faithful maintenance of not only their pickup trucks, but also their beer bellies.
- Beer bellies are cool, and a good one will keep Sorority girls from pestering you.
- A good one can double as a TV tray for nachos and beer, or for biscuits and gravy.
- It is a great way to meet cute Cardiologists.
- Beer bellies have a lot room for more tattoos when your arms and back are full.
- The belly button can store up to eight quarters for the parking meter.
- Big beer bellies make the best waves and splashes when you do belly floppers in the pond.
- And with a big beer belly, there is more of to love.
As you can see, Hillbillies are lovable and likeable. They live a simple life, but they would have it no other way.
(For another Hillbilly's view of love and beer bellies, check out: http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Friday, March 25, 2005
They are the Super Heroes, their deeds making them seemingly larger than life. They are the real world Justice League or the Avengers. Their super star status is perpetuated by the adoring minions of the media. Their lives will become the fodder of tomorrow's history lessons in ink that is indelible. Journalists are not partial to heroes either. What collection of Super Heroes would be complete without a Rogues Gallery? Indeed, the villains are touted with as much fluff as are the heroes. In many cases the nefarious seem to garner more headlines and amass more air time than the do-gooders.
Whether hero or villain, famous or infamous, they are different from their comic book counterparts. Besides being real, they do not wear spandex suits, capes, or sport masks. There is no "whoosh" when they spring into action. There is no "pow" when they battle their challengers. Their exploits are not found in DC or Marvel, but rather on ABC, CBS, NBC, or CNN.
No, these heroes and villains aren't decked out in colorful regalia. No, the don't change from civilian secret identities inside a telephone booth. They don't ride cosmic surfboards or fly invisible robot airplanes. They don't have secret bases of operations inside Bat Caves or Fotresses of Solitude. The true heroes operate out of Fire Stations and out of Police Stations.
Who are these defenders of the universe? Who are those who would destroy the Earth? Without black or white hats, how do we distinguish the villain or the hero? That is the rub, my friend, how indeed?
A former heroine to some turns to the dark side, how does she end up more popular than before? Martha Stewart, aka The Swindler, shouldn't have seen freedom for twenty years, but instead off too easy only to resume her villainy. Despite her crimes, the public fueled by the deluge of positive press, actually felt sorry for her. Bonnie and Clyde were also guilty of crimes against humanity, but paid the ultimate penalty. They too were idolized by the public, but reached super star status thanks to the journalists. Although they died, the reached the same anti-hero status as reported in ink that is indelible.
Meanwhile, the Guardians of the Universe have forsaken the Green Lantern. The press assuming the role of the Guardians have dared to pull on Superman's cape. They have removed the mask from the Lone Ranger. They have forgotten their purpose to report the news as it happens, choosing instead to embellish it with their own slants on the facts making it indelible!
The flock, those of us who read the papers and watch the news broadcasts, are the sheep following blindly. When did it happen that we began to let someone else decide who is the hero or the villain? Well we got it wrong with Martha. We got it wrong with O.J. We got it wrong with Bonnie and Clyde. We will probably get it wrong with Michael Jackson too. Those facts are indelible! They are The Indelibles!
I, for one am no longer influenced by The Indelibles. I make my own decisions based on the facts and stick to it. If I have any doubt, I know how and where to get help.
I turn on the Bat Signal ! (Another foe of the Indelibles is Letter Man, aka BlueDillyDilly: http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Thursday, March 24, 2005
* Price had played over the years with such greats as Champion Jack Dupree, Muddy Waters, Eddie Kirkland, Willie Dixon, John Lee Hooker, and Honey Boy Edwards. The band scored three platinum and eight gold records during their twenty-five year career. In recent years, Price had been working on his blues projects, cutting CDs and giving private guitar lessons from his home.
* Foghat's hits include: I Just Want To Make Love; Slow Ride; Take It Or Leave It; Ride,Ride,Ride; Fool For The City; Night Shift; Easy Money; Stone Blue; Drivin' Wheel; Eight Days On The Road; Easy Money; Wild Cherry; etc.
* Rice left Foghat in 1999 to pursue a solo career and recorded two albums, Open (2002), and West Four (2003).
* Rice, "the magician of slide" is survived by his wife Jackie, and five children: Rory, Jessie, David, Robin, and Sarah.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
* I know what you are thinking. The term Klondike conjures up images of tundras, Eskimos, and dog sleds. You wouldn't be wrong, given the near arctic conditions we've endured this winter, to envision snow. Living in a suburb north of Boston, I concur that in and of itself, Klondike hardly warms the soul, let alone one's body.
* Well, you can put your mind at ease and relax. Put away the parka, scarves, and gloves. Closet the skiing paraphenalia until the winter next. Although we can yet receive a smattering of snow for a few more weeks, it is Spring.
* When I think Klondike, I am not visualizing blizzards and snowdrifts. However, I am thinking frozen; not brrr-frozen, but ahh-frozen! I am talking about a refreshing chill to the palate. When I think blizzards, I think Dairy Queen. When I think zero, I think candy bars. When I think Klondike, I think ice cream!
* Wrapped in its silver foil bearing a polar bear, I am referring to a frozen treat. I'm talking ice cream! You get it now? I can taste it now, none other than a Klondike ice cream bar. It's a little bit of heaven packaged in a hand-sized square of chocolate covered ice cream.
* Its design is simplicity at its best, the wrapper can be peeled back and folded around the bar precluding the need for a dish. Just think of it, manna and no mess to clean. Picture me, if you will, snug as a bug in a rug in my Lazy Boy eating a Klondike bar. I tell you, it just doesn't get any better than this! I like to first bite into one corner, usually the right side, delighting in that gentle crunch of the chocolate coating before hitting that soothing cool ice cream inside. Next, I move to the opposite corner and repeat the process. Sometimes I like to see how much of the chocolate shell I can pull off with my teeth and not disturb the ice cream. This leaves exposed about an inch and a half of bare naked ice cream.
* Eyes closed, ice cream melting in my mouth, I find myself in need of a better word than ecstasy. While savoring one of these jewels of confection, sometimes my toes will curl within my slippers. Several times my curling toes will push my slippers off my feet. This happens especially when I am partaking of a Neapolitan Klondike bar.
* If turned the right way, my corner methods will produce a chocolate treat on one side and a strawberry sweetness on the other. This of course left an untouched tier of savory vanilla in the middle. I have yet to discover a way to assure this triangulation of flavor, for sometimes a row of chocolate would greet my taste buds leaving the strawberry separated by the vanilla, as the last of the delicacy.
* The pursuit of perfection often impedes improvement. - George F. Will
* For discriminating tastes the Klondike bar is available in several flavors. There is of course, the original vanilla ice cream in a chocolate shell. Then there is the chocolate in chocolate, heaven on earth if there ever was. The three flavor bar, the aforementioned Neapolitan is a true masterpiece. To the mix, they also offer a Heath bar, a York Mint bar and a non-fat (perish the thought) bar. Recently they have unleashed upon an unsuspecting world, the new White House Cherry bar. All I can say about this one is ...wow! I will stop short of highly recommending this one. Why? Quite simply I do want to see a run on this baby, because I do not want to go to my local supermarket and find that there are none left!
* As you can see I like ice cream. Remember the saying, "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream," I am not alone. You know the saying sounds good in Latin too, "Clamo, Clamatis, omnes clamamus pro glace lactis."
Unlike other people, I try to keep my love of ice cream subtle. I stop short of waxing passionate about it.
Uh, excuse me, but there is a scrumptious soothing Klondike bar calling me, I'm not about to keep it waiting for long!
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
We all know that Gulliver had his problems during his travels. He was bound by stakes by the tiny Lilliputians. He was dressed and undressed by the 60 foot Brobdingnagians. He met the Sorcerers of Glubbdubrib, the intelligent horses known as the Houyhnhnms, and their enemies he beast-like Yahoos. He also met the inhabitants of Laputa, Luggnagg, and Balnibarbi.
* Now, I am facing my own Swiftian stress. I have blogs with no names. I have titles with no blogs. Then there the days where I have neither a blog nor a title. My problems aren't so gigantic, or Brobdingnagian as those that Gulliver endured, but they are no less perplexing to me.
* By using the names of those places visited by Gulliver, I may have stumbled upon a plethora of excuses for not posting. Why should I suffer the indignation of admitting to a malady such as "writer's block?" Why indeed! I have just coined some blogger afflictions.
* When asked why I haven't posted a blog lately, I will simply say that I have a Brobdingnagian crisis. Which in laymen terms would mean that I have no material ready to post, or no material ready to ready. Why say I have no idea of what to write? Now let's say that I post something just for the sake of posting for posting's sake, that would be Lilliputian blog. That is to say, that the subject material is of little or insignificant importance. Why call these blogs fillers, when Lilliputian sounds so much more impressive.
* Every now and then I will come up with an intelligent and insightful blog. Not bad, but why I should I settle for the mundane labels of intelligent and insightful, when I can name them after those horses? Hence, such blogs will be referred to as Houyhnhnmian or Houyhnhnmite!
* Suppose I unleashed a brilliant and memorable piece, a magical blog! After those Sorcerers, such a blog could be called nothing short of Glubbdubribian! Unfortunately, I have yet to post anything worthy of such praise. I have touched upon Houyhnhnmian entries. I certainly have had my share of Lilliputian postings. While I have had Brobdingnagian blocks, I can't rightly say that I have had Brobdingnagian blogs.
* I will have to revisit Swift's Gulliver's Travels to refresh my memory of the other peoples cited. Who knows, but I may have a need to use Laputan, Luggnaggian, and Balnibarbian excuses someday.
* Interesting, while trying to explain why I have not posted anything lately, I have coined some blog excuses, and in so doing have in fact ended up with a ... Lilliputian blog!
For a Gulliverian view of travel see: http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Saturday, March 19, 2005
~ Well, it happened to me this past Monday! My mind drifted back in time, searching memories that had become fragmented, scattered within the recesses of my mind. Then there it was, a recollection of the voice. Though the name was not one I would ordinarily remember, his distinctive voice reciting the all too familiar narrative gave me cause to feel dread.
~ "There is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. If we wish to make it louder, we will bring up the volume. If we wish to make it softer, we will tune it to a whisper. We will control the horizontal. We will control the vertical. We can roll the image, make it flutter. We can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. For the next hour sit quietly and we will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your television set. You are about to participate in a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to...The Outer Limits."
~ I began to wonder just what was in store for me that day. Was I the only one hearing the Control Voice? Were there others who would be acting out same scenario with me? Incapsulated images of that TV program were flashing from behind my eyes, yet I could see them clearly. Then it dawned upon me that I was seeing pieces of episodes that aired four decades ago. How was it that I was recalling the details of each individual episode?
~ A long gaping yawn that came over me, reminding me of the sleep I had lost the night before. Why had I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning knowing I had to get to work the next morning? What was it I was watching on TV last night? Like a bolt out of the blue, it hit me. There had been a televised marathon of The Outer Limits over the weekend.
~ I was relieved that it all made sense. I wasn't about to live a day of suspense or terror. No alien beings or spirits were going to besiege me. No vortexes disrupting the space-time continuum were going to whisk me off into the midst of the Battle of Little Big Horn. My brain was just simply draining some of the overload absorbed from the twelve hours of television.
~ The tension abated, I engaged the transmission and left my driveway to face my obligated day of work. The Outer Limits a fading memory, I was about to turn onto the main drag when a strange series of musical notes began to play somewhere nearby. A few quick glances in the rear and side mirrors gave me nothing to dread. An ice cream truck warming up in a driveway, was playing its melody.
~ I made my left hand turn, but had traversed only about a hundred feet when I slammed on my brakes. In spite being out of earshot of the ice cream truck, I heard the notes louder than before. Then there was a voice, a different voice this time, but also a familiar one.
~ "You are entering a dimension not of sight or sound, but of the mind...."
To really feel like you have reached the Outer Limits or have entered the Twilight Zone, let Vic Perrin and Rod Serling show you - http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Thursday, March 17, 2005
The following is actually a joke converted to a short story for this blog. The joke was told to me on St. Patrick's Day in a bar over a few cold ones. Jimmy, the joke teller had a wonderful Irish brogue. This story, as well as the joke, if read aloud in a convincing Irish accent is even more effective and more hilarious.
It so happened that in a small village in County Cork, Ireland, there had been an inordinate amount of reports concerning ghosts. The stories had become rampant among the folks from the town center to the surrounding pastures and hills.
***Donovan's Pub, the local watering hole, served as the exchange place for tales of the spectral sightings. To some it appeared that the pub was a source of the stories, and as such it was easy to discount a lot of the yarns from a bunch of men downing pints of ale for hours on end.
***Nonetheless, there were reports of hauntings from those wouldn't even dream of setting foot in a pub, much less partake of liquid imbibations. Mrs. O'Halahan, for example was terrified by the presence of a wraith-like shape floating outside her kitchen window. Lending some credence to her story was the fact that she was an upstanding member of the community as well as of the church. Her neighbor, Darby McDonald also saw a ghost flying back and forth in his back yard. He claimed he didn't empty the two bottles of Irish whiskey until after he had seen the ghost, just to settle his nerves mind you.
***Before long the stories began to take on bizarre twists. It appeared that the spirits were becoming bolder to the point of actually making physical contact with some of the citizens. Darby McDonald's wife claimed she was attacked by the ghost in their very yard. This, of course, explained the other empty whiskey bottle.
***Perhaps the tales had taken on a life of their own, and a sense of one-up-manship was being acted out by the citizenry. When one man caught a big fish, it was certain that a another would step forward having caught a larger one. Once one person was physically accosted by a ghost, another person would claim to have been molested. As such, Mrs. Fitzpatrick had been raped by a shimmering apparition that had entered her bedroom during the night. Thus it wasn't long before other reports of violent encounters pervaded the conversations all over the village. Several of them began to appear in public sporting various form of battle dress such as bandages, arms in slings, and at least two people on crutches.
***The local law however, not only could not verify the reports, but were unable to find any evidence that the events had in fact occurred. The hysteria of the women folk was such that Officer O'Malley had no recourse but to at least give the appearance that an investigation was underway. Despite O'Malley's protests, the village had even hosted an out of town psychic. The so-called expert of the paranormal did report some strange electrical discharges and traces of ozone. She also detected other odors that defied logical explanation. Her credibility was called into question when some of the odors were detected before and after meal preparations.
***Finally, it was Father Flanagan, the local priest who stepped forth to end the histrionics. Having gathered the entire local population into his church the following Sunday, he was well prepared with an appropriate sermon. The congregation listened intensely as he related his sermon he had titled "God and Demons." After he had closed his service with scripture and led the choir in singing The Old Rugged Cross, he began to address those in attendance, some individually.
***He began, "I would like to discuss the recent and frequent visits by ghosts upon our community. I assure you that these spirits do not exist." There was a buzz among those in the pews as well as those standing against the back wall. "Mrs. O'Halahan, could it be that what you saw at your kitchen window was not a ghost, but your bloomers you hung out to dry that morning?"
***Unrelenting he continued, "Mr. and Mrs. McDonald, could it be your fancy new satin sheets and pillow cases a blowin' on the line? And Mrs. McDonald, didn't you get tangled in that laundry? Maybe that was the attack and it happened after you had your whiskey."
***As the Father continued to offer reasonable explanations for the hauntings, he could see relief showing on the faces before him. He sensed that they were beginning to realize how silly they all had been. They were very quiet now, the buzz was not heard. Had he ended his talk then and there he might have brought to an end the ghost stories.
***There was still another encounter that had to be quelled. "Now, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, were you really raped by a ghost?" He looked her in the eye, "And while this was happening, just where was Mr. Fitzpatrick? Was he playing that game you play under the sheets? Maybe he was your ghost! And maybe he got just a little too rough?" Mr. Fitzpatrick was grinning sheepishly even as his wife was flushing to a deep red.
***He then addressed the entire assemblage, "My faithful brothers and sisters trust in me as you would in our Lord. There are no such things as ghosts!" He raised a hand and asked, "How many of you have actually seen a ghost? Give me a show of hands." There were about a half dozen hands raised while the others parishioners hung their heads. "Those of who still maintain they have seen ghosts, did you ever see them when there was no laundry on the clothes lines? Have any of you ever seen these ghosts before you opened that bottle of whiskey?" He smiled at the people in the pews then asked, "Have any of you ever made love to a ghost?
***One man had his hand raised and was waving it frantically. That one hand had been raised when he first asked for a show of hands. The hand belonged to little Tommy McGee. Father Flanagan motioned for him to approach the pulpit. The fleeting glances from the others in the church concerned the Father, for but one believer in ghosts could undermine his efforts.
***Knowing that Tommy was hard of hearing, he raised his voice to a near shout, "Come closer, Tommy." When Tommy was no more than five feet away he asked, "Tommy, have you ever made love to ghosts?"
***Tommy replied, "Ghosts? I thought you said goats!"
For some spectres and apparitions why not see what haunting goes on in the blue household @ http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
~ (Ring! Ring! Ring!) Hello! You have reached the phone of the Pointmeister. I am unable to answer the phone right now. If you wish to leave positive comment about my Blog, press 1. If you wish to leave a glowing review, press 2. If you wish to leave a negative comment, press 3. If you wish to suggest an idea for a Blog, and I use it, press 4. If you wish to speak to a live person, press 0. (Blink!) I'm sorry, due to low wages and poor working conditions, there are no live persons available. (Blink!) (Dial tone.)
~ (Ring! Ring! Ring!) Hello! You have reached the phone of the Pointmeister. I am unable to answer the phone right now. If you wish to leave a positive comment about my Blog, press 1. If you wish to leave a glowing review, press 2. If you wish to leave a negative comment, press 3. If you wish to suggest an idea for a Blog, and I use it, press 4. If you wish to talk to a live person, press 0. If you wish to hear your choices again, press 1. (Blink!) Thank you for the positive comment! (Blink!) (Dial tone.)
~ (Ring! Ring! Ring!) Hello! You have reached the phone of the Pointmeister. I am unable to answer the phone right now. (Sheesh! can't this idiot take a hint?) If you wish to leave a positive comment about my Blog, press 1. If you wish to leave a glowing review, press 2. If you wish to leave a negative comment, press 3. If you wish to suggest an idea for a Blog, and I use it, press 4. (Blink!) Thank you for the glowing review! (Blink!) (Dial tone.)
~ (Ring! Ring! Ring!) Hello! You have reached the phone of the Pointmeister. I am unable to answer the phone right now. If you wish to leave a positive comment about my Blog, press 1. If you wish to leave a glowing review, press 2. If you wish to leave a negative comment, press 3. (Blink!) (Dial tone.)
~ (Ring! Ring! Ring!) Hello! You have reached the phone of the Pointmeister. I am unable to answer the phone right now. If you wish to leave a positive comment about my Blog, press 1. If you wish to leave a glowing review, press 2. If you wish to leave a negative comment, press 3. (Blink!) (Dial tone.)
~ (Ring! Ring! Ring!) Hello! You have reached the phone of the Pointmeister. I am unable to answer the phone right now. If you wish to leave a positive comment about my Blog, press 1. If you wish to leave a glowing review, press 2. If you wish to leave a negative comment, press 3. If you wish to suggest an idea for a Blog, and I use it, press 4. If you wish to speak to a live person, press 0. (Elevator music : Sound track to the original silent film "Ben Hur.") (Blink!) Ah, you have stayed on the line without pressing any selections. If you look like Jennifer Lopez, Catherine Zeta Jones, Christy Hemme, or a Playboy centerfold and wish to talk to the Pointmeister, press 5. (Blink!) Hello there. I see no point in not getting straight to the point. Excuse me, honey. Let me shut off the voice mail. No point in anyone else hearing this. Get the point? (Blink!) ~~~Silence!~~~
~ Voice Mail! You gotta love it!
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
~ A dose of the morning news, its ingredients including a smidgen of sports and a dash of the weather, had me about ready to declare the resurrection complete. Vaccinated with the news in brief and the caffeine working its magic, I set out to complete the daily routine. It was now safe to subject my face to the torture of cold steel. This was accomplished without bloodletting. The immersion beneath the steaming spray of the shower slowly awakened the other parts of my body. The bar of soap made no excursions to the floor, moving from soap dish to hand and back without interruption.
~ It was only after the second cup of coffee that the transformation was complete. Dressed in the appropriate gear for a day of battle, I double checked my itinerary and stepped out into a crisp but sunny morning. Each step I took was calculated and strategically placed to avoid the patches of ice dotting the driveway. Safely inside the cab of the truck, not unlike a pilot of a jumbo jet, I checked the battery, oil, and fuel gauges. Nothing was left to chance inside the house, so it was outside.
~ Curious that a day associated with doom and gloom, would fall so close to another that is linked with good fortune. Perhaps it was because of a certain juxtaposition of the stars or a syzygy of the planets that those two days so diametrically opposed would be separated by a single day. It seems unlikely that it could be a sheer coincidence of their proximity on the calendar. Could it be that in their infinite wisdom in a secret ceremony, the ancient Druids performed a sacrifice to Baal within the confines of what we call Stonehenge? They may have foreseen the one day of fates could have lasting affects upon the approaching equinox. So within that ring of monoliths they set in motion a fail safe, if you will, to counteract Armageddon with a day of pleasure.
~ If we are destined to suffer the Ides of March, then it is fortuitous that we can celebrate the luck of the Irish on St. Patrick's Day one day removed. The clouds of the Ides soon enough give way to the rainbow that Leprechauns use to hide their pots of gold.
~ I have survived the Ides of March, the remainder of the day went as well as it had begun. Overly cautious maybe, but why play with fire? I don't know if any good fortune will present itself to me on St. Patrick's Day, but perhaps I was giving a sampling today, March 15.
~ Therefore, I tender to you, beware the Ides of March, and may Irish eyes be smiling upon you.
Monday, March 14, 2005
~ You know, it sounds just like something that might have come from a blog. It sounds like something I might have spawned. I'm innocent on this one, however. Not even I could dream up such an incorrigible pair running for office. Why not Natasha Fatale and the Sea Hag? Why not Ma Barker and Lizzie Borden?
~ This not to say that Natasha, Sea Hag, Ma and Lizzie are necessarily bad people, not at all. But would Hillary and Martha be a shoe-in for a Democratic nomination, let alone represent the Party in a run for the White House? It sure seems ludicrous to me.
~ Let's see now, Hillary was involved in a real estate scam. Martha knows how to trade stocks with insider information. Presidential and Vice Presidential material? Imagine if you will, President Hillary and the First Gentleman, Bill on Capitol Hill. Do we really want to turn Billy boy loose in the White House again? Just what trouble could he get into while Madam President is busy with National security or the National budget?
~ While you are the ones shaking your heads now, let us touch base with Martha in Washington, D.C. Imagine her first press release in a speech entitled "White House Living." Shudder at this thought, suppose she was put in charge of the Social Security moneys, free to invest it in the Stock market.
~ One favorable side to the prospect of this ticket is all the material that fall into Jay Leno's lap. Why, he might have some nights where his monologues run the entire program. With the potential wealth he could garner from this distaff duo, he might forgo guests altogether while they are in office.
~ I don't know if America is really ready for a woman President or not in the near future, but I am certain that we are not prepared for these two. Remember also, that Hillary isn't exactly a friendly proponent of health care. Even as the Veep, this would be too much power for a control freak like Martha. While important decisions of National and International importance are dealt with by Hillary at Camp David, Martha will probably retreat to Camp Alderson.
~ All we can hope to do is to railroad the debacle of this tandem before it happens. Remember, it is our votes that can put them into office, as well as to keep them out. Chances are that the other Democrats that are up for the nomination, may be but just the lesser of the two evils.
~ I Know the best way to prevent these two divas from attaining such a lofty office. Quite simply, I will submit my own nominees to the Democratic Party. For President, I the Pointmeister nominate Jessica Rabbit and as her running mate, Betty Boop! Now my fellow Americans, there is a ticket I could support. Why they are no more cartoons than are Hillary and Martha!
~ Yes, that's the ticket!
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Saturday, March 12, 2005
~ The spillover is evidenced by the state of morality that exists today. Directly or indirectly, those few pariahs have spawned a generation of inept judges, greedy lawyers, and clueless lawmakers, who are interpreting the Constitution with laughable but alas, tragic results.
~ Never mind our own personal feelings about drastic changes in everything we were taught to believe, let's view the current state of affairs clogging the airwaves and assaulting our senses of values.
~ If you have children between the ages of 9 and 18, especially girls, you are already in the midst of the angst. Pushup bras, thong underwear under skirts way up to here and shirts way up to there, are the rage clashing with your outrage. We see the bare bellies and low riders. We hear the sexually explicit rap lyrics and we see the racy adult TV programs.
~ In a department store with my wife, we saw some of those thongs displayed so that you read the catchy phrases on them like "wink wink" and "eye candy." But a real disturbing one was "Dry Socket, I Got My Pocket Rocket." Yes, you read that last sentence correctly. I was outraged when I saw the sign that said 'girls,' not teens and not young women.
~ What can we expect though, when the number one rated show among kids aged 9-12 is "Desperate Housewives?" Should we be surprised when the song "Candy Shop," about oral sex is number one on the Billboard Hot 100 Chart? Should we be surprised when on prime time TV we see commercials for Viagra and Cialis talking about erectile dysfunction?
~ Shocking as it was, I was not surprised with the news of the oral sex scandal at Milton Academy. What could be surprising about five hockey players lined up waiting their turns as a 15 year old girl performed oral sex on them one at a time? Was it surprising when she and several of her friends said oral sex wasn't real sex at all?
~ Remember those noble pioneers cited above? I'll bet they are really proud of themselves now! They don't believe in God? They don't want their children exposed to the concept of God? I have news for them, God doesn't believe in them either!
~ I think it is time for them to dig up their lawyers from beneath the rocks they found them before. If a little dose of God bothers them, how do they like injections of immorality? I'm sure someone must have said to them back then, "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it."
~ You screwed up everything the last time didn't you? Is your rectum sore enough yet? You ignored a wise and time honored adage, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it," once before. Wanna fix it now? You broke it. Why not march your sore butts back up to the judge? Score one for America this time. Then maybe, just maybe all of us can stand up straight again. Are you tired of bending over forward to please others? Well, the rest of us certainly are!
Friday, March 11, 2005
~ There was no shortage of volunteers among the ad-icons. The retired and the semi-retired were the first to sign on. Egos not withstanding, the small and the large, the slow and the fast, they showed up one after another. What started out as a celebrity icon match, had blossomed into the battle of the century. So great was the buzz and so overwhelming was the anticipation of the event, that it was decided it would be a live televised match. There was no need to ripoff the public by making it a pay for view event.
~ The task of pairing of the combatants was not an easy one. The strengths and powers of each icon had to weighed carefully to insure fair matchups, especially in the early elimination rounds.
~ The Energizer Bunny made short work of Buddy L, his tactic to remain motionless proving to be a mistake. While Buddy was being carried off in a stretcher, the Bunny was dancing circles in the ring. He didn't notice the next opponent's cane until it was hooked around his neck. He did, however, feel the sensation of flight as Mr. Peanut sent him flying from the ring into the wall. Mr. Peanut adjusted his monocle and righted his top hat as Ready Kilowatt entered the ring. He was swinging his cane over his head as he moved toward the electric man. In a brilliant flash a bolt of lightning shot forth from his pointed finger striking and incinerating Peanut's cane. Before the ashes of the cane could reach the ground, another bolt turned the Peanut into a giant roasted peanut.
~ From then on the action was fast and furious. From a simple glass of water, Speedy Alka-Seltzer short circuited Kilowatt. Several rapid shots from the guns of the Frito Bandito reduced Speedy to a few crumbled pieces on the mat. A sudden gush of a viscous fluid poured down upon the Bandito as Mrs. Butterworth entered the fray. Unable to stand, his guns gummed up with syrup, he was defenseless. Suddenly Mrs. Butterworth was held aloft. Then Aunt Jemima body slammed her. Then she turned as she heard a voice say, "Would you like a nice Hawaiian Punch?" Her turning head met a well aimed fist from the Hawaiian Punch boy. Tony the Tiger proved to be too fast and too strong for mere punches. "Great!" roared Tony as the punchy boy ran from the ring. Suddenly Tony was bowled over as if he'd been hit by a truck. The Michelin Tire Man continued to roll and bounce against the cat. His claws and teeth useless against the rubber man, Tony submitted to defeat.
~ The Michelin Man could only laugh at the entrance of his challenger, near one-quarter his size. But the Pillsbury Dough Boy only giggled at the massive blow to his solar plexis. The surpised Tire Man looked at a mass of dough expanding on his arm. His futile attempts at bouncing and rolling in the ring were fruitless as the mass of dough slowly engulfed him. Before he could reform himself back into the Dough Boy, he was caught in the grip of Arby's Oven Mitt, who promptly kneaded him into a ball. The was ball hurled from the ring, stuck flattened against the far wall.
~ Meanwhile a drama was unfolding back in the ring. Face to face with Arby's Oven Mitt was the Hamburger Helper Glove. They gripped, neither yielding to the vise-like force of his rival. When the battled turned into a thumb wrestling match, the fingers of the glove pulled out the old Stoogian trick and poked the Mitt in the eyes. Blinded the Mitt was unceremoniously tossed from the ring. At almost the same instant, the glove was grabbed by its thumb. Mr. Clean then slammed his hand deep into the glove. Now worn by Mr. Clean, the glove was forced to move only as the hand in him moved. He was done.
~ Mr. Clean sensed movement from behind him. A curious bubbling mass was approaching him. It seemed formless. He backed away cautiously, unsure of that before him. Percolating, the bubbles appeared to come alive. Then they were abrasively scrubbing against his bare skin. The Srubbing Bubbles quickly inundated him. There was a sudden twinkling and shimmering effect that came over the Bubbles. They shuddered once before morphing into a bed of shamrocks. Lucky the Leprechaun was dancing a jig in the clover. So wrapped up in the moment, he failed to see the Keebler Elf swing a fist at him. So quick was the right cross to his chin, Lucky was unconscious before he could use his magical lucky charms.
~ For an elderly elf, he proved to be quite spry as he dispatched the Twinky Kid, the Trix Rabbit, and Captain Crunch in short order. The Little Sprout proved to be a much tougher opponent. Pound for pound, the sprout was much stronger. But for all he lacked in strength, the Elf more than made up in guile. He distracted the Sprout with some cookies and managed to pin him. He finally fell victim to sheer numbers as Snap, Crackle and Pop overwhelmed him. The trio were in turn beaten in the numbers game by the California Raisins. Next, the Burger Boy used his massive size to squash the raisin threat.
~ But in a battle of giants, the largest giant always wins. The Burger Boy was no match for the Jolly Green Giant. Then in a turn of shocking events that could only happen in a blog like this one, the Green Giant was being bound up by the ropes of the ring. A small blue fish could be seen hurriedly wrapping the ring ropes about the green legs of the giant towering far above it. Instead of reaching down to swat the fish, the giant tried to move his feet. Like a tree felled by lumberjacks, the not so Jolly Green Giant collapsed in a heap. Crushed in the unfortunate turn of events were the Campbell Soup Kids and the Cool-Aid Pitcher Man.
~ Charlie the Tuna over the Jolly Green Giant was an upset unlike no other in the annals of sporting events. But Charlie, the proverbial loser would not win this time either. He was suddenly smacked viciously by a large fish tail. Just before passing out he heard her say, "Sorry, Charlie." The Chicken of the Sea Mermaid stood as best a mermaid can stand before the cheering crowd. Too bad she didn't realize that the crowd, mostly male, were cheering her bare chest and not her victory.
~ There was a hush that came over the crowd. The Smackdown was not over. The Mermaid eyed the little yellow featureless man suspiciously as he approached her. She attempted a few whips of her tail at him. But he was much too fast, easily avoiding her tail. To the crowd the lack of action was not welcome. The warriors appeared to be talking to each other, but their voices were inaudible to them.
~ Inexplicably, the Mermaid took a card from the challenger, ceded the match and left the ring. Curiously she left smiling and her head held up high. The victor had just hooked her up with a major contract with a powerful porn broker. She would become a unique and famous star, and would eventually have the most visited site on the entire Internet.
~ It hadn't been a fair match. The winner had been rebuilt. They'd made him stronger and faster. The AOL Man was the victor today. To the victor go the spoils. Can no one stop him? Are there no challengers out there?
Thursday, March 10, 2005
~ Now what is all the commotion over a clock you ask? You must not have been watching the news or listening to the radio. No, we weren't watching 60 Minutes. There is no introduction to a break through in clocks and time keeping. Nothing is wrong with London's Big Ben.
~ However, you would be excused if you thought that maybe time was standing still. You might also think that history is repeating itself. I must admit that the scene was eerily familiar.
~ The King of Pop was running late! Would he make it to the court on time? It wasn't a white Bronco this time around, but it was an SUV. It was in California. It does involve a celebrity. No, there are no juice jokes this time.
~ Michael Jackson showed up late for court today. He had on slippers and pajama pants, while wearing a dark jacket over a tee-shirt. A body guard was holding an umbrella over him. No, it wasn't raining. Apparently, Count Jackula cannot be exposed to direct sunlight. (I hope they removed all the mirrors in the facilities.) He was walking stiffly. Maybe rigormortis is setting in? He allegedly injured his back and was taken to the hospital, hence his tardiness.
~ I feel sorry for Jay Leno, who was asked to curb his jokes about Jacko. He must have been salivating over all that material going to waste. The scene admittingly, looked like a center ring clown routine for Ringling Bros., Barnum & Bailey's circus.
~ Initially the judge issued an arrest warrant and forfeiture of Jackson's three million dollars bail. In the end, the warrant was vacated and the trial was resumed.
~ Well that's why there was fascination with the clock today. Can any more weirdness related to Michael Jackson merit any more coverage? I'll leave the MJ watching to the reporters and journalists.
~ As I was walking down the street one day... a man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was on my watch, yeah. And I said ........
- Airline - It separates sky from the ground; also called horizon
- Berating - Not as good as an A Rating
- Camelot - Where you buy a dromendary in Iraq
- Canopies - little green vegetables in a tin container
- Cardigan - Ask to see ID again
- Condolence - Condaleeza's brother
- Deadline - Fence around a cemetary
- Deviate - Land an airplane
- Endorse - Not outside
- Faux Pas - Why gift was bought on Father's Day
- Heftier - A better Hefty bag
- Impotent - A big man in town
- Jumper - A kaqngaroo
- Modules - Hippies' Christmas trees
- Password - Cannot pronounce it
- Pedophile - Smooths toe nails after clipping
- Polygon - The parrot is missing
- Recluse - Is given hints again
- Secrete - Visit island in the Mediterranean
- Sentiment - Mailed a box of Peppermint Patties
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
~ Texas Congressman Maury Maverick coined the word in 1944 in reference to prose of politicians that sounded like the senseless gobbling of turkeys.
~ You gotta love anything California, and the politics there are no exception. Governor Arnold Schwartzenegger gave us them gem: "I think that gay marriage is something that should be between a man and a woman." His predecessor, Gray Davis offered us this one, "My vision is to make (California) the most diverse state on earth, and we have people from every planet on earth in this state."
~ Semanticist Stuart Chase, defines gobblygook as "the practice of using two or three or ten words in the place of one, or using a five syllable word where a single syllable word would suffice." He cited as an example as not calling a spade a spade, but a manual excavating device. He also noted that the word now has been replaced with at this point in time.
~ Governors don't have the market cornered when it comes to double-speak. Then Presidential candidate John Kerry, when asked why he voted against a funding bill for the troops in Iraq, answered "I actually did vote for the eighty-seven billion before I voted against it."
~ When asked for his analysis of Iraq's cache of weapons of mass destruction, Donald Rumsfeld replied, "There are known knowns. These are things we know we know. There are known unknowns. That is to say, there are some things that we know we don't know. But there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we don't know we don't know." The reporters in attendance weren't the only ones scratching their heads over that one.
~ The trend to be politically correct is the current rage. Certain elements of PC can be seen in gobblygook. In the workplace you are not fired, but outplaced, dehired, deselected, down sized, assigned to a mobility pool, or placed in a career alternative enhancement program. Once called senior citizens or the elderly, they are seasoned, veteran, or chronologically experienced citizens.
~ A grave digger is an interment excavation expert. A manacurist is a nail technician. Cab or bus drivers are urban transportation specialists. A check out clerk is an associate scanning professional. A mechanic is an automotive internist. A paperboy is a media courier.
~ On the social scene, the poor are fiscal under achievers, or economically nonaffluent. A slum or ghetto is now called the inner city. A bum or a street oerson has become a non-goal-orientated member of society.
~ The products we use aren't exempt. Toilet paper is facial quality tissue. The term sliced is now portion controlled. Greeting cards are social expression products. A toothpick is an interdental stimulator. A girdle is a form persuader.
~ Gobblygookisms have even broached war. Torture is an interrogation technique. Overthrow is now a regime change. A prisoner of war is a detainee. Secret is classified. Retreat is redeployment. Peace is permanent pre-hostility. An invasion using paratroopers is now a predawn vertical insertion.
~ Perhaps my writing and your reading of this blog is and of itself a bunch of gobblygook!
Parts of the above are excepts from an article by Richard Lederer in the March 2005 issue of the AARP Bulletin. For mental challenges and on-line games go to: www.aarpmagazine.org/games
And for some gobblygook Applachia style check out blue @ http://bluedillydilly.blogspot.com
or not. At times history can be cruel and ironic in its depictions of our life stories. Remember, it isn't you who makes history, but the one with the quill and quire. Take for example the following:
~ You are Rudolph Valentino, a famous silent film star. They sing about and name after you a reindeer with a nose shiny and bright.
~ You are Napoleon Bonaparte and almost conquered the world. You are remembered how? Why, they name a dessert after you!
~ Rule most of the civilized world of your time, and be assassinated by your friends, Julius Caesar, and you have a salad named in your honor.
~ You are Bette Davis, a glamorous movie star, and yet you are remembered just for your eyes because of a song sung by Kim Carnes, "Bette Davis Eyes."
~ Become a famous movie star and ask us to come up and see you sometime, and wouldn't you know it, Mae West, you are known for a Navy life jacket.
~ You tried to raise your son Paul Tibbets to be something, and what does he do? He drops an atomic bomb on Hiroshima killing 100,000 people, and he rewards you by naming his B-29 bomber after you, Enola Gay.
~ Charge up a hill in San Juan and become President of the United States, Theodore Roosevelt and you gain the distinction of having the teddy bear named after you.
~ Bear a Messiah and a pop singer, Madonna, takes a name you are known by.
~ You, Arthur, were the king of Camelot. Are you remembered for the Round Table or Excalibur? They honor you instead by naming a PBS cartoon character after you.
~ You gain fame in a beloved comic strip, and they name the Peppermint Patty candy bar for you.
~ You are a well known District Attorney who had the misfortune to try clients of Perry Mason. You are immortalized, Hamilton Burger with a fast food sandwich, the hamburger.
~ Well, no one ever said that history was fair. In the end, we have no control of how we will be remembered. We can only live our lives as best we can and hope history remembers us as such. If you happen to know a scribe who records history, it might not hurt to slip him a c-note or two. (Nudge, nudge. Wink wink.)
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
~ Today Martha attended her first board meeting of her company since before her lockup. Like any corporation in America she allowed the cameras inside. (Actually only corporations in trouble practice this policy.) In fact, the media, lemmings the lot, were there at her request. She is aching to be the center of attention whether we want it or not. A victim, she feels she needs the pity, the admiration, anything that will plaster her face into mainstream America. (To her chagrin, there was no ticker tape parade and no keys to the city, hailing the conquering Queen back from her crusade.)
~ She addressed the board saying that what she learned while in prison will be applied to her company. Her experience behind bars was a life changing chapter in her life. She learned a great deal about our country by meeting a cross section of Americans in the prison community. (Sadly humility wasn't taught there.)
~ She said that her company might have been out of touch with ordinary Americans. (There you go. Us ordinary Americans are like the flies on the cowpile.) She said that starting that day, the company must communicate not only the how-to, but also the why. (Hmm, It's one thing to teach us how to make quiche. She can actually convince us why we should make it?)
~ She then told the board members just what exactly those things she learned in prison were. She outlined them the things she brought back that will be implemented into company policy effective immediately. She referred to them as "The Ten Points To A Better Corporation."
- all employees forthwith will refer to her as Madam Warden
- all employees will wear electronic monitoring devices on their ankles
- all men will wear new corporate uniforms with lateral stripes
- all women will wear new corporate uniforms with vertical stripes (as these will make them look taller and thinner)
- there will be automatic opening and closing cages around each cubicle and work station
- she will by the power vested her as CEO take credit for favorable work accomplishments
- she will by power vested her as CEO distribute credit for negative work accomplishments on a random basis
- all pens, pencils, and sharp objects will be issued at start of day and must be turned in at the end of the day (this includes dining utensils)
- Kissing her feet/ass will not necessarily gain favor, it will be recognized as a sign of respect
- she, vested by her power as CEO, will not nor be expected to comply with points 1 through 9
~ I ask again, Isto Pensitaris? (You get paid for this crap?)