Remotely Possible

As I was channel surfing earlier, my viewing pleasure suffered yet another setback. Despite of the choice of far more channels than number of pounds I can register on the bathroom scale, it's little wonder that the Internet has supplanted television as the center of entertainment in our household.
....Since that fateful day when I discovered the Blogosphere, thus demoting the TV set to a status just behind newspapers, there have been no programs worthy of my attention or time. I will qualify that last sentence by admitting to watching Jeopardy before firing up the computer. Otherwise, not one program has been able to persuade me to forsake the keyboard in favor of the remote.
....Not even the comfort zone of my comfort throne, Lazy Boy, has had the power to draw me under its spell. Catering to the needs of my body, the ritual of nourishment shares time and space with the computer.
....That phenomenon of the Blogging world known as the Meme, has provided a service by offering material for those times when Bloggers have nothing in particular to write about. (There rises a cacophanous chorus of "Oh no, not another Meme!" from the throngs of Blog readers visiting this site.)

I got around to burning some wood thinking that there might be some television programs, past and present, that could be said to be "adjectives" of my life.

If My Life Was A TV Set

If my life was a TV set, each click of the remote could land on a program descriptive of one day in my life. You have the remote.

Click! Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom - With two dogs and three cats counted as part of our family, Marlin Perkins would find plenty to offer his audience live on site from our house.

Click! Rawhide - Once in the morning and again in the evening, there is cattle herd in full stampede to the pet's food dishes.

Click! Home Improvements - Otherwise known as "Honey-Do" projects.

Click! Twilight Zone - For those times that I have no idea what I did or said that was wrong.

Click! 24 - For those days that every things seems to be a crisis.

Click! CSI - "Have you seen my car keys?"

Click! The Flintstones - I realize we are the last of our circle of friends and family to have a Video Camera, a PDA, TiVo or similar DVR devices, etc. We are living in the Stone Age.

Click! The Jetsons - Opposite of The Flintstones; we are living in the future. We try to keep up with the neighbors and buy the current state-of-the-art devices even though we haven't a clue how to use them.

Click! Candid Camera - Everytime something embarrassing happens to me, there is an audience.

Click! Extreme Makeover - I am watching an old black and white program and realize I am still wearing the same style of clothing as in the film.

Click! This Old House - See Home Improvements. (Projects I cannot do myself.)

Click! Desperate Housewives - There is more cleavage visible below the waist around your house.

Click! All In The Family - This now includes in-laws.

Click! Survivor - I woke up this morning.

Click! MacGuyver - I can never seem to find the right tool when I need it and have to improvise.

Click! King Kong - 'Twas beauty killed the beast - with Honey-Do projects.

Click! The Paper Chase - Bills, bills, and more bills!

Click! Mission: Impossible - Paying bills, bills, and more bills!

Click! Daniel Boone - "Elbow room" cried Dan'l Boone. Too many people. Too much traffic.

Click! Star Trek - Beam me up, Scotty. There's no intelligence life down here.

Only four of the programs mentioned are currently in production. The rest, if on at all now, will be on only as syndicated reruns. Indeed, some readers may not be familiar with some of them. Like I stated in the beginning of this post, there are no TV shows now airing that can pull me away from this computer. You probably thought I was exaggerating. Trust me, I speak with the forked-tongue of truth.

....It would be interesting what more up to date TV programs that you find can and do mirror your own lives.

No.645

Lurn Two Wright Gud

(The following came from Dribble Glass.)

How to Write Good

Follow these tips, and you'll be writing gooder in no time!

~Always avoid alliteration.
~Prepositions are not words to end sentences with.
~Avoid clichés like the plague—they're old hat.
~Employ the vernacular.
~Eschew ampersands & abbreviations, etc.
~Parenthetical remarks (however relevant) are unnecessary.
~Parenthentical words however must be enclosed in commas.
~It is wrong to ever split an infinitive.
~Contractions aren't necessary.
~Do not use a foreign word when there is an adequate English quid pro quo. ~One should never generalize.
~Eliminate quotations. As Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "I hate quotations. Tell me what you know."
~Comparisons are as bad as clichés.
~Don't be redundant; don't use more words than necessary; it's highly superfluous.
~It behooves you to avoid archaic expressions.
~Avoid archaeic spellings too.
~Understatement is always best.
~Exaggeration is a billion times worse than understatement.
~One word sentences? Eliminate. Always!
~Analogies in writing are like feathers on a snake.
~The passive voice should not be used.
~Go around the barn at high noon to avoid colloquialisms.
~Take the bull by the hand and avoid mixed metaphors—even if a mixed metaphor sings, it should be derailed.
~Who needs rhetorical questions?
~Don't use commas, that, are not, necessary.
~Do not use hyperbole; not one in a million can do it effectively.
~Never use a big word where a diminutive alternative would suffice.
~Subject and verb always has to agree.
~Be more or less specific.
~Placing a comma between subject and predicate, is not correct.
~Use youre spell chekker to avoid mispelling and to catch typograhpical errers.
~Don't repeat yourself, or say again what you have said before.
~Don't be redundant.
~Use the apostrophe in it's proper place and omit it when its not needed.
~Don't never use no double negatives.
~Poofread carefully to see if you any words out.
~Hopefully, you will use words correctly, irregardless of how others use them.
~Eschew obfuscation.
~No sentence fragments.
~Don't indulge in sesquipedalian lexicological constructions.
~A writer must not shift your point of view.
~Don't overuse exclamation marks!!!
~Place pronouns as close as possible, especially in long sentences, as of 10 or more words, to their antecedents.
~Writing carefully, dangling participles must be avoided.
~If any word is improper at the end of a sentence, a linking verb is.
~Avoid trendy locutions that sound flaky.
~Everyone should be careful to use a singular pronoun with singular nouns in their writing.
~Always pick on the correct idiom.
~The adverb always follows the verb.
~And always be sure to finish what ......

It was a busy weekend and the grey matter is a little tired. Please excuse the "borrowed" and recycled material in today's post.

No.644

Remember The Forgotten

The greatest Super Hero of them all will spring into action this weekend.
Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the firing of the barbies
Cookin up the dogs and burgers
That are much better than Arbies
We don't worry about cholesterol
Or the terrible fat or carbies,
The food is finally on.
Glory! Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Glory Hallelujah!
The food is finally on!

Yes, fathers and husbands all over the land will be singeing their eyebrows and eyelashes when they fire up the barbecues for this weekend that jump starts the summer.
....Here's to those hotdogs, burgers, chicken wings and steaks that fall on to the ground, only to be picked up, wiped on a pant leg and put back on the grill. Here's to those grill masters that pull it off. Here's to the friends and family that gather to celebrate the weekend. Here's to those who show up empty-handed and eat all your food and drink all your beer.
....Here's to those neighbors who don't invite you to their cookouts. Here's to those neighbors who call the cops because you are making noise. Here's to the cops who arrive at the neighbor's and who come to your backyard to have a cold beer for the road. Here's to those guests who decide it's time to leave when you begin to clean up the mess.

....And now I wax ... serious.

Here's to your friends and relatives who are late because they first stopped at the cemetary on the way to your house. Here's to those who placed flowers there in homage to the departed. Here's to our soldiers, men and women, who cannot be with their loved ones because they are serving our country.

May you all have a wonderful Memorial Day weekend.

Let us not ever forget the true significance of Memorial Day - to honor those who have died for us that we may have the rights and freedoms we so often take for granted.

Air Force:
They took the blue from the skies
And a pretty girl's eyes
And a touch of Old Glory's hue
And gave it to the men who
Proudly wear the Air Force Blue.
Army:
Over hill, over dale
As we hit the dusty trail,
And the Caissons go rolling along.
In and out, hear them shout
And the Caissons go rolling along.
Marines:
From the Halls of Montezuma
To the shores of Tripoli,
We will fight our country's battles
In the air, on land and sea.
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean.
We are proud to claim the title
Of United States Marines
Navy:
Anchors aweigh, my boys,
Anchors aweigh.
Farewell to college joys
We sail at the break of day -ay-ay-ay.
Through our last night on shore,
Drink to the foam,
Until we meet once more
Here's wishing you a happy voyage home.
Coast Guard:
From North and South and East and West,
The Coast Guard's in the fight.
Destroying subs and landing troops,
The Axis feels our might,
For we're the first invaders
On every fighting field.
Afloat, ashore, on men and spars,
You'll find the Coast Guard Shield.
National Guard/Air National Guard:
(I could find no specific anthems for these two branches, but they are due no less honor and respect than those above.)
"Almost every single day for me is Memorial Day ... I'd like to have a day when it's just a barbecue. ...I guess it's selfish of me." - Nicole Petithory (Sister of soldier killed in Afghanistan)

We will always remember Sept. 11, 2001.

No.643

Who Laid The Egg?

Eggstra! Eggstra!

The Egg Came First!

British scientists have "cracked" the age-old riddle, which came first - the chicken or the egg?
....The scientists, teamed up with a philosopher and a farmer, who is the chairman of the Great Britain Chicken Trade board, have answered the enigma that has bewildered the world, according to The Independent Newspaper of London.
....The "egg-sperts" explained that a creature's genetic material does not change during its lifetime. Any changes or mutations to a creature must happen when it is conceived, at the point when the two genetic codes are combined.
...."Therefore, the first living thing which we would say unequivocally was a member of the species would be this first egg," said professor John Brookfield, a specialist in evolutionary genetics at the University of Nottingham. "So, I would conclude that the egg came first."
....The same conclusion was reached by professor David Rapineau of King's College London, and Charles Bourns, a poultry farmer. Papineau, whose subject is the philosophy of science, agreed that the first chicken came from an egg.

Leave it to the British to claim credit for a supposition that has been offered and generally accepted in most scientific circles for quite some time. So eloquent were their conclusions, that only a fly on the wall could provide some insight into those historic sessions that spawned this daring theory.
.
...."Hello. Frederick Fly III here. There wasn't much happening on the other side of the Thames at White Hall, and the same can be said for Buckingham Palace. There was a lot of buzz from my fellow flies that history was about to be made in this hotel room. I got here just in time. The chambermaids are straightening out there uniforms and are leaving the men as they start their meeting."
....Bourns, the poultry farmer was the first to speak. "Gentlemen, we must be pragmatic here." I chuckled as I observed one of the scientists looking around as if he wondered who walked into the room. Bourns continued, "From my experience, the only thing that has ever hatched from one of my hen's eggs is another chicken, albeit a baby one."
....The philosopher stood and shook his finger, "Now I ask you, Mr. Bourns, did you question that newly hatched creature? Did you get a sworn deposition from it, that it was in fact ... a chicken?"
...."Of course not," replied the farmer. "That's preposterous, thinking a chicken would submit to such a line of interrogation."
...."Gentlemen, gentlemen," interrupted Brookfield who specialized in evolution, "All of you are presupposing that the creature that laid the egg ... was a chicken."
....There was hush that spread like a pall through the room. "I was stunned myself. I set my wings in motion and moved to the other side of the room so that my multi-faceted eyes could get a better view of these proceedings. I was salivating from my proboscis."
...."Haven't we learned enough in our illustrious history that mixed breeding is fraught with peril," said Papineau. "My God, people, you need only to look within our own empire and no further than the Irish."
....The farmer jumped up and in angry retort exclaimed, "No Irishman, or Scott for that matter, has been anywhere near my chickens!"
...."No one is suggesting that humans have been diddling chickens!" said a scientist from the back of a room. "But it might answer another riddle about chickens."
...."You don't mean 'Why did the chicken cross the road?" do you?" asked the philosopher.
...."Hell, I'm just a common housefly and I knew the answer to that one. The chicken crossed the road because he was stuck on the Frenchman's dick."
...."Gentlemen, we need to get serious here out of respect to the Queen," said the evolutionist, admonishing the men.
...."You're right, Brookfield. Lord knows the Queen has laid several bad eggs, what with those pitiful scrambled heirs of hers."
...."It's near tea hour," offered Rapineau, "Let us put our heads together. We need to draught up a statement for the press and not put all our eggs in one basket, so to speak."
...."Look," said the philosopher, "If we take an egg and drop it into a pan of boiling water, do we not get a soft or hard boiled egg, depending on the length of time it is allowed to boil?"
...."By Jove! You've got it, Mr. Papineau!" exclaimed Brookfield. "Your theory is sound and beyond reproach."
....I could tell by the look on his face, Papineau had no clue as to what Brookfield meant.
....Brookfield continued, "Look, for the purposes of arguement, let us suppose the egg that was boiled was laid by one of Mr. Bourns' chickens. When we break the shell from that boiled egg ... what do we have? A boiled egg, of course." He paused for dramatic effect for but a trice, "Obviously an omelet didn't lay that egg..."
....Papineau jumped in, "That which was in the egg ... changed during the boiling process. It started out as a potential baby chick, but was removed from the shell as ... breakfast!!"
....It was contagious, the thought processes were running wild within the minds of the men in that room.
...." So, a long time ago," added the farmer, "This dinosaur laid an egg in its nest, but on one fateful day a chicken and not a Stegosaurus hatched from the egg."
...."Hence, the first chicken," said Brookfield.
....I watched them shake hands and slap each other on the back. It was obviously time to celebrate as they began pulling the Champagne from the ice buckets around the table.
....In unison they raised their glasses to a hearty toast, "The egg came first!"

....As I flew out of that stuffy room, I couldn't help but wonder, "Which came first, the egg or the British?"

No.642

Those Golden Oldies

The following were stolen from Hoss who stole them from Tan Lucy Pez. First, here is the list of updated songs to fit us Baby Boomers and those even older. These are songs to which we can relate.

Herman's Hermits -- Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Walker
The Bee Gees -- How Can You Mend a Broken Hip?
Bobby Darin -- Splish, Splash, I Was Havin' a Hot Flash
Ringo Starr -- I Get By With a Little Help From Depends
Roberta Flack -- The First Time Ever I Forgot Your Face
Johnny Nash -- I Can't See Clearly Now
Paul Simon -- Fifty Ways to Lose Your Liver
The Commodores -- Once, Twice, Three Times to the Bathroom
Marvin Gaye -- Heard It Through the Grape Nuts
Procol Harem -- A Whiter Shade of Hair
Leo Sayer -- You Make Me Feel Like Napping
The Temptations -- Papa's Got a Kidney Stone
Abba -- Denture Queen
Tony Orlando -- Knock 3 Times on the Ceiling If You Hear Me Fall
Helen Reddy -- I Am Woman, Hear Me Snore
Leslie Gore -- It's My Procedure, and I'll Cry If I Want To
Willie Nelson -- On the Commode Again

I wouldn't have "stolen" those unless I had the full intention of making up some of my own to add to the list. Without further adieu, here are my additions:

James Brown - Papas Got a Brand New Colostomy Bag
The Supremes - Falling In and Out of Bed
Shangri-las - Walkers in the Sand
Leslie Gore - It's My Potty (and I'll Try If I Want To)
David Houston - Almost Constipated
Dave Clark 5 - Catscan Us If You Can
Bob Dylan - Like A Kidney Stone
Supremes - Nothing But Heartburn
Lenny Welch - Since I Fell On You
Amboy Dukes - Gerney To the Center of the Ward
O.C. Smith- LIttle Green Tablets
The Tokens - The Loins Seep Tonight
Ray Charles - Take These IVs From My Arm
Tommy James - Moaning, Moaning
Glen Campbell - By The Time I Get To Pee
Hermans Hermits - There's a Kind of Mush (All Over My Shirt)
BJ Thomas - Slipped on a Peeling
Neil Sedaka - Breaking Up Pills Is Hard To Do
Lonnie Donegan - Does Your Dentures Lose Their Flavor In the Cup Overnight?

For your pleasure and a chance to sing along, here is one more with the complete lyrics:

Corn In My Stool

(To the tune of Born To Be Wild)

Get your bowels a movin'

Head on out to the bathroom,

Lookin' for some relief

And whatever comes out soon.

Yeah, darlin' go make it happen

Take the tissue in a love embrace

Fire all your guns at once

And explode all over the place.

It's like smoke and lightning

Heavy fartin' thunder

Tryin' to stay upwind

From that feelin' down under.

Yeah, darlin' go make it happen

Take the tissue in a love embrace

Fire all your guns at once

And explode all over the place.

Like prune juice was mild

Yes, there's corn, corn in my stool

We can crap so high

And wish we could die.

Corn in my stool

Corn in my stool.

This post is with the sincerest apologies to ASCAP and anyone who wasted their time reading this post. (Schlep Schlidin' Away)

No.641

Branded In The USA

There's a lot to be said for brand loyalty. Have you used Dial today? Don't you wish everyone used Dial? In the Rock 'n Roll standard, (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction, Mick Jagger sang, "When I'm watchin' my TV, And that man comes on to tell me How white my shirts can be..." Those lyrics reflected the reality of advertising that exists even today: to pound the name of the products into the consumers' brains so they cannot forget them.
....Do you squeeze the Charmin toilet tissue because you want soft "tp" to wipe your rear end? Or do you like me, squeeze it, all the while imagining the package is Mr. Wipple's head? Their message, so many years ago was so indelible that to this day I know the name Charmin. (For the record, I prefer Angel Soft.)
....They say Maxwell House coffee is good to the last drop, but is it really any better than the last drop of Folgers? It all comes down to consumer preference when trying to explain brand recognition. "Well he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke The same cigarettes as me..."
....Some people vote either Democratic or Republican for no other reason than that's how their parents voted. So it is when they buy their consumer goods. How droll! (Excuse me while I run to the store to pick up some Ipana toothpaste, Barbasol shaving cream and a jar of Ovaltine.)
....In a nutshell, all of us succumb to brand loyalty in one form or another. I am no exception. My favorite brand? Why, Generic of course! I suppose that makes me sort of generic, doesn't it? Generic products are actually made by "branded companies." For a fee, a larger company allows a small outfit to package their product under another name. Indeed, some conglomerates package and sell their own "generic products."
....Genuine touched upon the subject of brand loyalty in his 5/22 post, "Service With A Smile."

Before I started composing this piece, I was thinking about products that I haven't seen advertised in a long time. I wondered if they even still existed.

....What I learned was that many of the "old" products I remember as a kid are in fact on the shelves of some stores. Just as I remember them, there are apparently others who remember them also. Some of those people are still buying these products. Yes, it's the name recognition syndrome in effect. Despite the fact that the manufacturers of these products no longer spend dollars to advertise them, there is a core of brand loyal consumers who use them.
....They still make Quisp cereal! You can still buy Barbasol shaving cream and Burma Shave. I saw Brylcream (a little dab'll do you.) on a shelf just last week. I was surprised to see that Barcolene could still be found in the cleaners shelves. Two things I couldn't find were Hydrox cookies and Friends' Baked Beans.
....I did find confirmation that Sunshine stopped making Hydrox several years ago. it was the original sandwich cookie. It was copied by a larger company under the name of Oreos. The power of brand recognition spelled doom for Hydrox. The advertising money spent on Oreos gave birth to the notion that Oreo was the original and Hydrox the cheap knock-off. If you ever had Hydrox cookies, then you know that they were far superior to Oreos. This was a classic example of "nice guys finishing last."

Don't click that browser, this Blog will return after a brief word from the sponsor, Blog Snacking Cookies.

You know, I sure could go for a Moon Pie and a bottle of NeHi Grape soda pop. ...And a Zero candy bar. How about a Boyer Mallow Cup?

No.640

Lightning In A Bottle

I had to do a double take last night when I stepped outside on the way to the shed with a bag of trash. Sure enough, my eyes weren't deceiving me. For out there in the back yard were a few fireflies, or lightning bugs as we like to call them.
....I paused, remembering when I was a young lad. I used to picture these insects carrying little tiny Coleman lanterns. I even imagined that some of them were wearing mining helmets with lights. Lightning bugs were Mother Nature's crossing guards, making everything safe for all the other flying bugs.
....My memories then fast-forwarded to a more recent time, albeit it was still thirty-three years before the present. I was in New York on a business trip. As was the routine when I was out of town, I would call home to say good night to my four-year-old daughter.
....On that particular night, her weeping voice stammering from holding back tears, she told me all about the personal tragedy that had befallen her. It seeems that the lightning bugs in the jar on her bedroom dresser needed new batteries.
....It took me but a trice to realize that my wife had been reluctant to tell her that the insects had died. The situation was made more delicate by the fact that she had neglected to punch air holes in the jar lid. Rather than have our daughter believe that her mother had "killed" them, my wife took an easy way out saying, "They need new batteries, honey. It's too late to go to the store tonight." I had surmised correctly that she'd also said to her, "Your Daddy will bring some home tomorrow night."
....Yes, it was one of those innocent over-protective methods of bringing up children in the early seventies. Sensitive issues were often handled with kid-gloves by telling them little white fibs until they were old enough to understand.
...."Yes," I promised before she handed the phone to mommy, "Daddy will bring some new batteries for your lightning bugs."
When my wife had taken the phone I said, "Thanks a lot! ...And just where do think I'm going to find "batteries" by tomorrow evening?" The last query was in jest because I knew she was still within an earshot of our daughter. (This was before cordless telephones.) Far be it for me to put her on the spot!
....I was back in Boston the next afternoon, the shuttle landing at Logan airport around four o'clock. My original agenda would have had me jumping on a Blue Line train into downtown Boston to the State Street Station and transferring to an Orange Line train north to Everett Station. After a short ride on the bus, I would have been home in time for supper.
....Because of the "battery crisis," I had to sneak into my driveway, start my car and take off to the "battery store," hopefully without my daughter realizing I had been there. The "battery store" was actually a marshy area off the Lynn Marsh Way about five miles from our house. In my carry-on flight bag was a gift I had picked up for my daughter in New York. It was a custom that I would always bring Gretchen a little gift when I returned home from those business trips. This time I had a nice snow globe featuring a Statue of Liberty and a New York City skyline.
....Alas, that night I had to bring home some "batteries" too. Alas and alack, it was only when I arrived at the marsh that it dawned upon me that I had no jar! (I had not heeded the instructions in the Parenting Manual to always make sure that an empty "lightning bug jar" is always close at hand.)
....I was in a quandary. The nearest stores were at least a ten-mile round-trip away from where I sat. I knew I could buy a six-pack of Mason canning jars, but that presented another problem. I had no cash money on me, the check book was home, and the only credit card on my person was a company-issued one. I did not relish the thought of explaining a purchase of canning jars to the Accounting Department next month.
....To this day, I still find it ironic that Lady Liberty would come to my rescue. It was an insane idea! I was turning the snow globe in my hand, studying it from every conceivable angle. I reiterate, I was in a quandary. The glass globe housing the statue was a little larger than a regulation softball.
....Lo and behold! It was tight, but the globe was actually screwed into the base! I didn't have to consider breaking the base to free the globe. Holding it upside down, I twisted the two pieces until they had separated. I opened the car door and promptly dumped the liquid from the globe. As I stepped from the car and made my way to the marsh, I was faced with one remaining obstacle. It was still daylight, the sun three hours away from setting.
....Everyone knows that lightning bugs are nocturnal insects. They only fly at night. My obstacle was to try to find them in their safe daylight havens. They could be in a tree or in a hollow stump, neither of which were anywhere near my location. Experience as a youth had taught me that they will also hide on the underside of leaves and tall grasses. Tall grasses I had and then some. I was fortunate that I had guessed correctly that they would more than likely congregate near the road, as opposed to the other end of the marsh closest to the ocean. I had reckoned that they wouldn't be very fond of salty grass.
....With the exception of stepping into a "cut" in the marsh up to my knees, the "battery-shopping" was fruitful. When I returned to the car, my hand cupping the open end of the globe to prevent my bounty from escaping, I turned it upside down onto the hood. From my bag, I removed some aluminum foil from around a tube of toothpaste which was secured with a rubber band. The foil, held in place with the rubber band, made a serviceable lid for the globe. After punching a few holes in the foil with my pen, I sat back and let out a sigh of relief.
....The moment of relief gave way to anguish as I assesed the "damage" to myself. What a curious sight it must have been to passersby to see a man in a three-piece suit traipsing through a marsh with a glass globe! The left shoe of a pair of brand new wing tips, as well as the foot in it were soaking wet with with salt water and covered in slimy mud. The left pant leg had suffered the same fate to just below the knee.
....At least for part of my ordeal, the Gods had found favor in me. When I entered the house my wife was in the bathroom giving Gretchen a bath. This afforded me the oppurtunity to grab an icepick from a kitchen drawer and to slip into her bedroom unwatched. I emptied the jar on her dresser into the store bag containing the empty snow globe box. After using the ice pick to punch some holes in the jar lid, I transferred the lightning bugs from the globe to the jar. Drawing the shades and dousing the lights, I was rewarded with the spectacle of the fireflies reacting to the sudden darkness. There were about a dozen or so little beacons blinking on and off.
....By the time the girls had emerged from the bathroom, I had removed all evidence of the "battery installation." Gretchen came running to me for a hug to welcome me home. As I was knelt down hugging her she whispered, "Daddy, did you bring me a present?"
....After a brief pregnant pause, I carried her to to her bedroom and said, "Yes. I brought you the new batteries for your lightning bugs!" She giggled and shreaked a yelp of delight as she picked up the jar and admired her revitalized "night light." She turned to me and said, "Thank you, Daddy." I said, "You're welcome. Anything for my little angel." I was turning to go to our bedroom to get out of those wet shoes, socks and pants when she called out, "Didn't you get me anything else, Daddy?"
....It resulted in me having to use one of those little white fibs. In a sense it was actually a half truth. "Yes, I did get you something else. I have to put it together for you. I'll put it together tomorrow. Okay, honey?" It was with reluctance, but she answered, "Okay." Over supper I pondered about the snow globe. Across the table from me was my daughter beaming at her jar of lightning bugs that she just had to bring to the table with her.
....Later that night, after she'd fallen asleep, I sat at the table with the two pieces of the snow globe. I knew that ordinary water was not the liquid used in those things. After a little experimenting and a lot of frustration, I had the epiphany that was so desperately needed. First, I filled the globe with some distilled water, sprinkled in some glitter and added just a dash of glycerin. I applied some epoxy to the threads of the globe to insure it would be sealed properly and screwed the base onto the globe. I left it sitting upside down while resting atop a large mug to allow the epoxy to dry and set overnight.
....The next morning, I turned it right side up and watched with both glee and satisfaction as the the silver "snowflakes" began falling gently upon Lady Liberty. She had helped me, and I was happy that I could return the favor. I put the globe into its box and left it sitting at my daughter's place at the kitchen table. (To this day, my daughter still has it and it's still in its original box. As far as she knows, that morning when she opened it, was the one and only time it was ever out of the box.)
....You reader and I are the only ones to know otherwise. It's our secret.

If you would like to make your own snow globe from ordinary jars, check out the following link:
http://www.marthastewart.com/page.jhtml?type=content&id=channel1050
Who knows, maybe you too can find lightning in a bottle.

No.639

Smorgasbord To Switches

I decided to clean out all of the blogs stagnating in draft status tonight. No small task this, unless I simply deleted them. Instead, I thought I'd give it a go and amalgamate them into a single post, a patchwork blog, if you will. I realized that it was not going to be as cut and dry as to just copy and paste.
....The rolling thunder I heard was not coming from outside, but rather was rumbling behind my belt buckle. Soon there was a veritable smörgåsbord surrounding my work space. A generous cold cut medley on a bulky onion roll was rather neighborly with a bowl of potato chips. The chips' partner-in-crime, a tub of Helluva Good Onion Dip sat in waiting. A perspiring can of Coke Classic was in arm's length to answer the call of duty when the solid Blog fuel was ready to be washed down my gullet.
....Once energized on the sandwich, I could sense forlorn from yonder onion dip. I had no flight goggles but that didn't prevent me from grabbing a chip and letting it take flight. In a bold loop-the-loop maneuver I dove into the dip and was next airborne with a bountiful helping of the tangy paste. Banking into a steep right turn, the salty craft and its cargo penetrated the space between my lips. There would be several more sorties before this post would be published.

What if...
... Now is the moment you've been waiting for your whole life?

On one draft was that single sentence that sometime, somewhen I typed there. I thought it to be a poignant thought, profound enough around which I could build a Blog. Maybe it was too deep for this shallow mind? It's a scary thought, isn't it? It ranks right up there with another burning question. "What if the Hokey Pokey is really what it's all about?"

File this under "Strange Things To See"

A Hummer with Handicap Plates. (How do you suppose the driver gets in and out of it?)

Divine Intervention

A man's assets were going down the drain as the market took a nosedive. Depressed, he decided to go to church. "Grab your Bible and drive to the ocean," the minister advises. "Sit at the water's edge and open the Bible. The wind will riffle the pages, but eventually it will stay open. Read the first words your eyes fall upon and they will tell you what to do."

....The man did as he was told. When the pages stopped moving, his eyes fell on the words that were meant for him. A year later, he returns to the church to see the minister wearing a $1000 suit and driving a brand new Jaguar. He hands the minister a thick envelope. "Please accept this donation for your church," he says. "Thanks for the advice."

...."What words did you see that brought you such fortune?" the minister asked.

....Replied the man, "Chapter 11."

"Strange Things To See 2"

A Federal Express Truck sitting curbside sporting a Denver Boot. (When it positively has to get there overnight.)

Let Your Fingers Do The Walking

(This appeared in the Jan 2006 issue of Readers Digest, which was reprinted from a column in the Washington Post.)

The Yellow Pages are unique in that they're laid out with hyphenated headings atop each page, i.e., Brass-Brick. The good folks at The Washington Post think there's more than meets the eye here and asked their readers to concoct definitions for these headings.

Attorneys-Audiologists: Lawyers who guarantee they'll get you a hearing.

Banquet-Beauty: A eupemism for a plus-size woman.

Billing-Blood: A loan shark's late-payment fee.

Carpet-Catastrophic: A text message you don't want to receive from home when your friend is house-sitting your dog.

Cellular-Chalkboards: Wireless phones with annoying ring tones.

Financial-Fire: For when cooking the books didn't work well enough.

Foam-Foods: The nation's top supplier of airline meals.

Rubber-Safe: Where the bank puts the bounced checks.

The above would make a good meme or challenge for everyone out there. Besides, it would give everyone a chance to 'curl up" with a book - even if it is the Yellow Pages. Any takers?

Finally: For The Ladies, A Must Have For Your Home Decor!

In the military they establish certain times in which you are allowed to light up. You can smoke when the "smoking light" is lit, and you must butt them them when it's off!

How about a love-making light, girls? When you want to fool around, all you have to do is to flip his switch. When you turn it off, that means there'll be no f**king.

This lamp will give new meaning to turning your man on and off! Brighten up your bedroom and your sex life with the Man Lamp.

There are several switch sizes to choose from. There is also a dimmer switch available to allow you to control just how bright or dark you want the ambiance.

A light bulb, available in dim and bright, represents his head. It's of little use anyway, since that's not the head you'll be interested in when you're flipping his switch.

No.638

Man Who Confuse Us

I think it is safe to say that nearly everyone is familiar with the sayings of Confucius. When I found the following, I had to scratch my head.

"To practice five things under all circumstances constitutes perfect virtue; those five are gravity, generosity of soul, sincerity, earnestness and kindness.

" It had to be a mistake. So I thought I'd try another one.

"In a country well governed, poverty is something to be ashamed of. In a country badly governed, wealth is something to be ashamed of."

There could only be one answer. Some clown had posted these as a joke. They were Pseudo-Confucius sayings. The Confucius we all know and love would never have made such ludicrous statements. He spoke for the common people, like you and I, not for lawyers and politicians.
....So I went surfing again. Finally, after first reading a few, I found the real stuff. The following are what:

Confucius says ....

© Man who fart in church, sit in own pew.
© Foolish man give wife grand piano. Wise man give upright organ.
© Man who walk through airport turnstyle sideways, going to Bangkok.
© Man who read woman like book, prefer Braille.
© Man who put cream in tart, not always baker.
© Man who pulls out too fast, leaves rubber behind.
© Man kicked in testicles, left holding bag.
© Man who take woman on camping trip, have one intent.
© Man with athletic finger, make broad jump.
© Man with hands in pockets feels foolish, but man with holes in pockets feels nuts.
© Man who masturbates in front of cash register, come into money.
© Man who lose key to woman's apartment, not get new key.
© Man who bounce woman on bedsprings this spring, have offspring next spring.
© Man who date woman with no bust, has right to feel low down.

© Woman who wear Wonderbra, make mountains out of mole hills.
© Woman who sit on judges lap, get honorable discharge.
© Wife who put husband in dog house, soon find him in cat house.
© Woman who cooks carrots and peas in same pot, is unsanitary.
© Girl who is wall flower at party, is dandelion in bed.
© Virgin like balloon, one prick ... all gone.
© If woman wish to find old man in dark, not hard.

© Passionate kiss like spider's web, soon lead to undoing of fly.
© Is good to learn to masturbate, may someday come in handy.
© It takes many nails to build crib, but only one screw to fill it.

© All men eat, bu Fu Manchu.
© Baseball all wrong, man with four balls cannot walk.

No.637

The Tuna Smelt

Introducing: The Tuna Smelt™.

(A new semi-regular News Blog in the time-honored style of tabloid journalism.)

Imagine an open can of tuna left sitting out in the hot sun all day! That's the kind of news out of Washington D.C. and our world as covered by the The Tuna Smelt™.

The Pool Party

Today's The Tuna Smelt™ exclusive "scrapes the bottom of the toilet bowl." It is brown journalism at its best. Several months before his accidental shooting of a lawyer while quail hunting, Vice President Dick Cheney held a private pool party at his ranch.

After consuming several bowls of his home-made chili, Cheney was involved in a previously unreported shooting. Guests who witnessed the tragedy say the victim was a female lawyer. They said they heard the muffled staccato shots coming from the pool. The crimson-brown color spreading in the pool around the victim was first thought to her blood.

After floating several minutes face-down in the Cheny-soup, a relunctant Mrs. Cheney finally pulled the woman to the side of the pool, where equally reluctant guests help to pull her from the water. Several guests who just happened to be trained life guards, refused to administer CPR or other life-saving methods. Obviously, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was out of the question. The Tuna Smelt™ reporter at the scene could not determine if life-saving measures weren't used because of the substance in which she was drowning, or if it was because she was a lawyer.

Finally, using a bicycle pump, a slow acting Secret Service man was able to revive the female barrister. Said Mrs. Cheney after the incident, "Dickie likes to make bubbles in the water when he is swimming in the pool or is taking a bath in the tub. I guess he went in the water a little too soon after eating."

When questioned, a Secret Service man assigned to Cheney said, "I think he was acting out the pool scene from his favorite movie, Caddy Shack. If the President was here, he would have played Bill Murray's character."

Cheney, the last to be interviewed stated, "Ain't that just like a lawyer, always talking like they got a mouth full of shit!"

Unbeknownst to the Vice President, the force of his "shots" had blown his swimming trunks to smithereens. He emerged from the pool to the gasp of several guests and sauntered past them to the cabana. One irate guest felt utter disgust. She said, "I just came from the hors d'oeuvre table and there were no cocktail weiners there. The cheapskate must've kept them for himself!"

That's the story, soup to nuts, if you'll forgive the pun, of Vice President Cheney's pool party. You read it here first in The Tuna Smelt™.

That's the story and we're stinking sticking to it.

No.636

Ubermensche*

*Superman

15 minutes? It takes me an hour or more! What's that make me? An Uber Geek?

Faster than a posting! Able to read over 50 Blogs! More powerful than sleep...

Kryptonite! Waterloo! Custer's Last Stand! I am not invulnerable!

Saturday's post was the one of the few times that I could not come up with an idea for a post. I had to resort to visiting one of those Generator sites. I took two pictures, a comic book page and a TV news report, added my own captions and called it a "post."

It was bound to happen. I knew it would sooner or later. I have published 634 postings in the 485 days I have been blogging, an average of 1.3 blogs per day. It was inevitable the streak would come to an end. (Look at Joe DiMaggio's hitting streak and Lou Gerhig's ironman run. I'm ignoring Cal Ripken because he was hurting his team for the sake of the record.)

I wasn't trying for any records. I was simply purging my brain of memories and thoughts. Oh, it isn't empty just yet, although I need to pour in some STP to get it to run properly again. Miss Cellania suggested in a comment that I could write about how difficult it is to find material for a blog.

Well this Ubermensche is not so uber. A recent neck injury (a contusion) is the culprit. It's not easy to be funny, which I try to be, when you're in pain. My concentration is distracted by other neurons entering my head. I'm sure I'll be back to my abnormal self soon enough.

It is my insight (sic) X-ray vision that is weakened. Ladies, you won't have to wear that lead-lined clothing for a while. I can only maintain the ability to see through the material long enough for just a short, but too quick cursory glance at the moment. My most recent "insight" occurred when a famous celebrity walked past me on the street. Why couldn't it have been Rosanne? Did I have to have the problem when Betty Boop chanced to pass by me? I could only manage to penetrate one layer for he briefest of moments.

MySpace Layouts
My pledge is to recover from this malady soon. Maybe then, my insight will be back at full strength. Maybe then my insight will have returned before the ladies bring out the lead-lined clothes again. Who knows, maybe Betty Boop will come into my range again.

Maybe, just maybe I can post something that might, just might be ... funny?

No.635

Shooting Blanks

Tired ... Can't think of anything. Mind is a blank.
Must come up with a .. Press release.

Computer operator sluggish ... May crash.

No.634

When I'm Sixty-Four

Paul McCartney has recently learned that he's going to be Free As A Bird and sinking on a Yellow Submarine. He finally got an answer to one of his musical questions: "Will You Still Love Me When I'm Sixty-Four?" No Paul, she won't still love you when you're sixty-four! You can take solace though in the fact that you almost got there, since your sixty-fourth birthday is next month.

So next month, when your friends sing Your Birthday, Heather won't be there. You can then sing one of The Beatles' classics, Can't Buy Me Love. It's probably too late for you to sing We Can Work It Out. I wonder if you'll feel like the Fool On The Hill or a Nowhere Man? Maybe you'll go into seclusion in the Norwegian Wood and become a Paperback Writer.

You're Going To Lose That Girl, Paul. She's filed for divorce and she's singing Money (That's All I Want). A quarter of your fortune is what she wants and she's going to Come Together with her lawyer to Come and Get It! "After all", she says to you, "Baby You're A Rich Man!"

When you say, "Don't Let Me Down, I gave you All My Lovin'" she won't be listening. Instead she'll be saying, "It Won't Be Long until I Drive My Car with my Ticket To Ride down The Long And Winding Road and then I'll Follow The Sun out of here!"

"Help!" says Paul. "You Really Got A Hold On Me!" Paul is remembering that "Eight Days A Week ever since I Saw Her Standing There and said to her I Want To Hold Your Hand, and took her down to Penny Lane, we were in love. I thought we had Something special." Except now he says, "She was a Day Tripper and I'm A Loser."

It'll be A Hard Day's Night, but he'll have to Let It Be. He'll have to Carry That Weight and he'll say, "I'll get by With A Little Help From My Friends." He'll ask Heather "Tell Me Why," but he'll get No Reply. He'll make one last plea, " Oh! Darlin', won't you Get Back and Please Please Me and don't you know that All You Need Is Love only From Me To You?

Alas, all he got was stars when Maxwell's Silver Hammer came crashing down on his head!

No.633

Da Simpson Code

(From the files of Dick Gumshoe, P.I. - Case No.3)

My name is Dick Gumshoe, and I'm a Private Investigator. I was on the clock, conducting surveillance. Mr. Lay, my client, was concerned about his teenage daughter's activities and a recent depletion of his assets. For about a week I had been trailing Freda about town and monitoring her assets closely. I'm sure that Mr. Lay will be quite interested to learn that she has a mole on the inside of her right thigh.
....On this night I followed her to the Museum of Not So Fine Arts, which is located in the theater district, about a block from the seedy red-light area. Waiting outside, I lit up a cigarette and stood discreetly by a lamp post. I was confronted by three ladies of the night in a space of ten minutes.
....I got into a scuffle with their pimp shortly after. It seems that I was standing on their corner. It was getting late and when a fourth propositioned me, I was struck by her innocent look and agreed to party with her. When she led me into a nearby alley I discovered that no one else had been invited. Before I had a chance to protest she was blowing on my candle.
....When she was finished and stood up to face me, I was horrified. It was Freda Lay, my client's daughter. I sighed and thought, I did promise to stay on her tail. I jotted down a few lines in my notebook. I would give Mr. Lay the good news tomorrow. He would be relieved to know that his daughter was taking music lessons and was showing promise as a flutist.

....Before calling it a night, I decided to stop for a nightcap. I like going to a place where they know my name, and a place where i can run a tab. The only such place I knew was the Hung Dong Dragon. I ordered a whiskey with a Jaegermeister chaser. As I was downing my imbibation, I overheard two men discussing the recent controversy over the book and movie, Da Simpson Code.
....According to the book, Homer Simpson is a distant cousin of President Bush. The supposed proof of this was hidden in the famous painting by Great-Grandma Moses. Finishing my drink, I decided to mosey on down back to the Museum of Not So Fine Art. Since the MONSFA was closed at that early hour, I used my personal pass key and picked the lock to gain entry.
....As I stood before the masterpiece, I realized for the first time that there was indeed a family resemblance. You've probably seen those "Separated At Birth" pictures before, I'm sure. As I live and breathe, I swear I was looking at a painting of our illustrious leader, George W. Bush!
....I then remembered that there was another painting that might be the key to solving the code. It took me a minute, but soon I was gazing at it. Then it struck me like a ton of won tons. The work depicts Homer singing at a concert with the Rolling Stones. The key, that everyone before me had overlooked was right there, in front of me. Only I was able to make the connection. They were singing Mother's Little Helper .
....You don't see it? Think about it. Somewhere in the dark past a woman was experiencing a lot of pain. So the family alchemist, Rasputin the Mad Monk, prescribed a heavy dose of hallucinogenic pain killers to the woman. Those pills came to be known as "Mother's Little helper." She then washed Rasputin's privates so that they could have some very clean sex. Ah, I see it's starting to come to you. The sex was so clean, that the ensuing pregnancy was called an Immaculate Conception.
....Great-Grandma Moses had kept secret the fact that her distant ancestor had spent time in an Egyptian jail for causing enviromental disasters to that country. Thus when she began to paint, she diabolically planted the clues of ancient blood lines. She knew that someday, someone would unravel her code. She also knew that she'd be gone when that day arrived. You can't blame her for not wanting to be associated with any family from that deficient gene pool.
....Suddenly, before I knew what was happening, I was surrounded by a dozen gun-wielding men. They were dressed as cops, but I knew better. They were trying to cite me on some trumped-up charge of tresspassing. I knew, however, that they were after the code too. Refusing to talk, they hand-cuffed me and took me to a warehouse which had been cleverly disguised as a police station.
....I'm sitting behind these bars and while I await my lawyer to bail me out of here, I writing all of this down. My lips are sealed. I have decided, being the patriot that I am, the secret code must never be revealed. It would surely disrupt not only our nation, but the entire world.

(Stay tuned to this Blog channel for forthcoming adventures from the case files of Dick Gumshoe, P.I.)

No.632

Things That Make Me Go Aarrgh!

It seems like just about everything this past weekend made me go ... Aarrgh! I've probably used that epithet enough times lately, people might have thought I was a pirate! All that was missing was the parrot on my shoulder.
....That rebel yell came into prominence during the recent spate of rain that has been drowning the Northeast for the last several days. The carwash down the street hasn't been this slow since they were busted for employing "illegals" last year.
....There was some irony in that with all the rain, bottled waters were flying off the store shelves. Aarrgh! I have heard no complaints that every one of these products were almost double the price than before the rains started. Am I the only one who is wondering if they are owned by the oil companies?
....Aarrgh! It wasn't long after the ground was completely saturated, that the water began to perk up through the basement shower, sink and toilet. It wasn't much longer that a raging river was running across my basement floor. We were luckier than most of our neighbors because our sump pump was able to keep up with the invasive water.
....Aarrgh! Nonetheless, there was plenty of our junk possessions in the direct path of the flowing water as it coursed downhill from the bathroom to the sump hole. Aarrgh! I was moving stuff to a higher and drier spot in the basement when I stepped on something that underwater. It felt like a marble or a ball bearing and it was enough to cause me to lose my balance.
....Aarrgh! I fell backward and struck the back of my neck on the stairs. It hurt like hell and I saw stars! At the time, sitting in the streaming cold water, my pride was hurting more than my neck. I told my wife I was okay and completed the job of moving stuf out of the water's path.
....Aarrgh! Sunday morning when I woke up, I was a-hurtin' for certain! To make matters worse, I couldn't turn my head! Only by turning my shoulders could I look to either side. I had to turn a full ninety degrees to see behind me. After having a cup of coffee and performing the "Sh" triumverate, I gingerly made my way down stairs to see what was happening down there. It was still raining hard outside, so there was no reason to think that the flow of water might have abated from the bathroom.
....Popping pain killers like Reese's Pieces and resting seemed to help. The cold packs no doubt, were good also. It was fortunate that I happened to have five blogs sitting in limbo as drafts. I was able to tweak them a bit and as such was able to post something for Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Aarrgh! It was not easy trying to use the keyboard and to view the screen. I could only stand to sit in front of the computer for no more than fifteen minutes at a time. Finally today, Tuesday, I have regained most of the movement in my neck and can turn my head.
....I was obliged, because I wanted to, to work on a project for a special friend. Because of the pain and the limitations of my movements, I was unable to concentrate enough to give even a ten-percent effort. Sorry, doll. Even though I have e-mailed her that I had to renege, I felt compelled to announce it here also.
....Aarrgh! I had get gas this morning. They were changing the pump prices just as I pulled into the station. Aarrgh! It has finally happened! The regular unleaded has topped $3 a gallon! Aarrgh! Six days ago it was $2.82! A half a tank of gas came to $27! Aarrgh!
....From there I had to run into the supermarket for a few things. If I heard it once, I heard a P.A. announcement a half dozen times while I was in the store: "Attention Shoppers ..." ..."Produce department, pick up line 3..." ..."Would the owner of a blue ford ... your lights are on..." ..."and as always, thank you for shopping at..."
....Aarrgh! P.A. systems! Did you know that "P.A." is the acronym for "Pain in the Ass?"

Things you wouldn't want to hear over a Public Address system:
In a grocery store: "Attention shoppers. This week's special: All broken eggs are free."
In a hospital: "Doctor Fine, Doctor Fine and Doctor Howard to ER - stat!"
Also in a hospital: "Is there a doctor in the house?"
On an airplane: "Passengers, please please lean forward and put your head between your knees..."
While driving your car: "This is the police! Pull over!"
At school: "(Your Name) report to the Principal's office immediately!"

Aarrgh!

No.631

When The Fortune Cookie Crumbles

I personally cannot eat Chinese food! I not only get sick, but I experience excruciating pain in the stomach. The pain is so intense that it feels like I am being eviscerated. Only by lying down and assuming a fetal position, can I find any relief. This lasts for about three hours.
....It is ironic, but I like the taste of it. When I catch the smell of it, I am tempted to get some. Forunately, from past experiences I ignore the temptation. No matter what the menu item may be, the results are always the same.
....It was once suggested that I try Chinese food without Msg. Monosodium glutamate, just the sound of it seems to say "beware!" Why am I reminded of gluteus maximus?
....In any event, I took a chance and ordered some chicken fingers, sans Msg. The experiment was a failure and we were ten miles from my home. It was a long drive, to say the least. I can never predict how long after eating the stuff before the attacks start, but many times they begin within ten to fifteen minutes.
....Not a single time in 36 years have I ever eaten Chinese food and not had those severe cramps! You'd think that I would have learned a lesson during all those years, but I still test the waters once in a while. All it takes is just one bite!
....I have found that the best way to combat my personal "China Syndrome" is to simply read the menu. I realize it's foreign fare, but where in the world do they find the names they give their food?
....Kung Pao ? Do I eat it, or is it a martial art maneuver? Moo Shu Pork ? I picture a cow telling a pig to screw! Dim Sum ? You mean you have to eat it with the lights turned down? Or does that mean that the cook isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer? I'm sorry, but how can anyone expect me to get excited about a Pupu Platter ? Riddle me this one, could anyone please tell me why anyone would want to eat a baby pigeon?
....Another thing that fails to excite me are the types of food which are based on the regions of the Chinese origins. Hunan ? When I see that in a window or on a marquee of one the restaurants, I cannot help but see "human!" Well, I'm certainly no cannibal. Hakka ? That sounds like you're coughing it back up! Fujian ? Ah, they must specialize in dishes comprised of Japanese camera film? Guang dong ? I can't help but pity some poor castrated orangutan somewhere in the jungle, saddened by his loss.
....They have a saying of the South China people: "They would eat everything that has four legs except the dinner table and everything that has two wings except a plane." I'm inclined to say in retort, "I don't doubt it!"
....Chopsticks? What's up with the chopsticks anyway? They can't afford silverware? The kitchen staff must be out back laughing at the various races of people trying to use those things. They could very easily have put a hinge on the two pieces to make them more manageable as I see it.
....I have a few theories on those chopsticks. They are really miniature cue sticks! When they aren't eating, they break out these little pool tables and rack up some tiny billiard balls.
....Don't like that theory? You've seen pictures of those Geisha girls, haven't you? Ever notice those large things sticking out of their hair? Contrary to popular belief, they aren't knitting needles. They aren't antennae either. They are chopsticks!

Well, while you are in the Hung Dong Dragon dining on your Pooh-Pooh Platter, I'll head on down the street for some manna. I won't be heading to some building simulating a pagoda, but rather to those glorious Golden Arches. While you are struggling to get more than a pinch of food with your tiny cue sticks, my two hands will be caressing two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun - a luscious Big Mac! While you are sipping your tea, I'll be washing my meal down with a thick shake.

I'm not one to rub it in, but I won't be hungry again in only an hour after I have eaten!

No.630