Monday, July 31, 2006

Tele-Dining


Margaret is sitting at her dining room table enjoying a pleasant repast with her daughter.

Joseph is sharing a glass of wine with his lovely paramour.

Agnes laughs at the story her sister is telling about a recent party during one of their daily afternoon teas.

Billy is still a little nervous as he and his blind date attempt some idle chatter before dining.

A matronly woman gushes over five-year-old grand daughter as she attempts to blow out the candles on her birthday cake.

Two brothers, long separated by 2000 miles, try to catch up on each others' lives as they share breakfast.

Cheryl takes a small bite from her pizza as her best friend reaches for another slice.

Two men exchange a toast with raised glasses for the business agreement they have reached.

An aspiring writer nibbles lightly on a finger sandwich and listens intently to the constructive criticism offered by her publishing agent.

The above scenarios are all too familiar. Or are they? These get togethers happen everyday. Or do they? We might be taken aback when we realize that things are not what they appear to be.
....If you were to allow your mind's eye to zoom back from the scenes, you just might find yourself looking at a preview of the not so distant future.
....Enter Virtual Family Dinner, a technology being developed by the consulting firm, Accenture. The concept of long-distant meetings is not a new one, take the conference call for example. Developments in the home computing industry have given us the ability to have face-to-face exchanges for some time. Accenture has taken the best of these to produce a system it hopes to have on the market within three to five years.

Have you ever worried whether mom or dad is eating alone night after night? Do you miss sitting down over a cup of coffee with a sibling? Have you ever been out of town for a birthday or an anniversary? Accenture's system has come to the rescue. Here's how it works:
....Strategically placed cameras monitor mom as she prepares a meal. When the system sees her bring dishes to the table, it infers that she is about to eat and is ready for company. Near the table, up pops a screen on the wall or at the end of the table. A computer automatically taps into a directory of family members or friends, finds someone who might be available to chat, and projects that person's life-sized image on the HD screen. On similar systems, they not only can see and hear each other, but can interact as if they were seated at the same table.

Always ahead of the curve, when his head isn't against a curb, the Pointmeister has been gazing into his crystal ball, which he calls the "Blog Oracle." Through the magic of incredible foresight, he has the wherewithal to share the future with you.

Margaret says to her daughter, "You look awfully thin. Are you still not eating meat? Dear, you need protein."
...Her daughter replies, "Ma, why are you putting so much salt on your food. You know it's not good for you."

The little girls says, "Why can't you be here in person, Grandma?"
...."Honey," the grand mother answers, "You know I wish I could be there."
...."Grandma, that's what you said for my birthday last year, and for Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and Easter, and ..."

As you can see in the above two scenes, it is just like being there in person. The conversations are more intimate and honest. The interaction is more lifelike than an ordinary telephone call. It will surely be the next great innovation in the field of communications.

Ah, but such is the bane of new technologies that there will be someone to find a way to abuse it.
....Take Jennifer, for example. She is taking a shower, dolling herself up for a hot date with Biff. The Virtual Phone system alerts her that there is an incoming call. She rushes to the phone, not bothering to throw on a robe or to wrap herself in a towel. She's going to give Biff a thrill, she thinks. She poses in a provocative stance as the screen pops up to activate the call.
...."Hello. I am calling from the Acme Vinyl Siding Company....Well, hell-o there!"

....Yes, even with this state-of-the-art system, both scourges of privacy, the tele-marketers and the spammers, will find a way to utilize the technology.

Let us not forget about Joseph who was sharing wine with his sweetheart. Although he is out of town, they are still able to share a romantic dinner together.
...."Honey," he says to her. "You look hot tonight!"
...."Oh, my!" she exclaims. "Is that french bread on your table, or are you that happy to see me?"

Are you ready for this technology?

(This post is based on an article appearing in the latest issue of AARP Magazine.)

No.703

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Reigning Cats and Dogs


Do you talk to the animals? Well, if you're a pet owner you do! I'm sure you have some cutesy smarmy names for them also. If you have a neighbor with a noisy barking dog, I'll bet you have some choice names for them and the dog.

There's a little Dr. Doolittle in most of us. We swear the animals understand us. They know exactly what we are saying to them, don't they? After all, we love our pets. They are part of the family. Some pets get a lot more attention that some of us homo sapiens!

For what other reason, other than love, would we watch a dog lick its privates and then allow it it to lick our faces? Rather than attempt to answer that question, let's look at it from "poochie's" point of view. Maybe the dog doesn't particularly like the taste of our faces. Perhaps he first "seasons" his tongue to kill the taste. (Don't we season things to improve the taste?)

Animals have a much more developed olfactory system than that of us humans. They very much depend upon their sense of smell to survive. Their keen sense of smell allows them to find food. It helps them to determine if another of its kind is friend or foe. They can recognize their young because of unique aromas. The propagation of the species can be attributed to their sense of smell. Unlike humans, canines don't have the luxury of buying the female another drink. They don't need to show up with flowers. Have nose will travel! If a female is receptive, the male simply follows the scent.

Ah, but the animals have been talking to us for a long time. I think sometimes we have grown oblivious and have forgotten the almost daily conversations they have with us.

Think about it, they are selling us insurance on TV. We've taken it for granted, however, as if it were subliminal. A duck is touting injury insurance. A gecko is piching auto insurance. A talking toucan and a wacky cuckoo are telling us what sugared cereals to buy. A tiger is pushing another cereal by yelling, "Great!"

I am sure that I am as convinced as you that a tuna wearing a fedora would really want to be caught and canned for human consumption! On the other hand, I suppose it is believable that a finicky cat would want us to know which cat food to buy.

The late Gilda Radner of Saturday Night Live fame left as part of her legacy the following musical tribute on the subject of talking to animals.

LET'S TALK DIRTY TO THE ANIMALS

A rooster says Good Morning
With a "Cock-a-doodle-doo" - Good Morning!
A horse's neigh is just his way
Of saying "How are you".
A lion growls "Hello"
And owls ask "Why" and "Where" and "Who".
May I suggest you get undressed
And show them your wazoo - Oh,

The animals, the animals,
Let's talk dirty to the animals
Fuck you, Mister Bunny
Eat Shit, Mister Bear.
If they don't love it, they can shove it
Frankly, I don't care - Oh,

The animals, the animals,
Let's talk dirty to the animals
Up yours, Mister Hippo
Piss off, Mister Fox.
Go tell a chicken "Suck my dick" an'
Give him Chicken Pox - Oh,

The animals, the animals,
Let's talk dirty to the animals
From birds in the treetops
To snakes in the grass - But,
Never tell an alligator "Bite my..." No!
Never tell an alligator "Bite my..." Yes!
Never tell an alligator "Bite my... snatch.


Thanks to that mother bear and her cub, I can take solace in the fact that I know which toilet paper to use to wipe my ass!

No.702

Friday, July 28, 2006

I Got Up On the Wrong Side Of the Bedlam

My kid wants to be President. I told him to aim higher.
I just had a horrible thought: One day, Rap will be elevator music!
A friend of mine met his girlfriend on one of those match-making sites. I'm not saying she's ugly, but they met on "My-Hydrant.com"

Okay, I got over the hill. So what do I win?
I might not know Jack Shit, but I met Diddly Squat.
Money talks. Mine always says, "Goodbye."
Kinky is using a feather; perverted is using the whole chicken.
Why women stay single: They prefer the sausage to the whole pig!

Sarcasm: Just one more service I offer.
Sex on TV is great! Until I fall off the set.
Your Proctologist called ... He found your head.
It its petty, don't sweat it. If its sweaty, don't pet it.

Due to recent cutbacks, the light at the end of the tunnel has been turned off.

Reach and touch someone. No, not there!

No.701

Thursday, July 27, 2006

The 700 Club


For my 700th post I find myself in a quandary. What should I write about? I could try to be serious, but it's hot and I don't feel like expending that much energy on thinking. I could try to post something funny, but that wouldn't be different. Should I extol the virtues of prolificy? No, the fact that I've put up 699 previous posts hammers home that point.

Salvation came from Oz. While following the "Blue Brick Road," my Blogroll, I found myself down under at Peter's Site. The illustrious and funny Aussie never fails to bring a smile to my face. Believe you me, as I have a face tailor-made for radio, a smile is indeed an improvement as well as a renovation.

One post in particular about drivers hit home. I qualified for two of the listed types of drivers in the post; a Bostonian and a West Virginian. To paraphrase some Neil Diamond lyrics, "Boston is fine, but it ain't home. West Virginia is home, but it ain't mine no more," just about describes me to a tee.

I can relate to two worlds, that of a Yankee and that of a Redneck! As the person in that song, I have at times found myself lost in both of those worlds. They are truly worlds apart. I consider myself lucky to have been able to find humor on both sides of the Mason-Dixon. What follows are some comparisons/differences of those two worlds.

The North has coffee houses, The South has Waffle Houses.
The North has dating services, The South has family reunions.
The North has switchblade knives, The South has Lee Press-on Nails.
The North has double last names, The South has double first names.
The North has Indy car races, The South has stock car races.
The North has Cream of Wheat, The South has grits.
The North has green salads, The South has collard greens.
The North has lobsters, The South has crawfish.
The North has the rust belt, The South has the Bible Belt.

The differences in the sentiments from the North to the South is well defined in:
ROAD TRIP:
Four women were driving across the country. Each one was from a different state: Idaho, Nebraska, Florida and New York.
....Shortly after the trip began, the woman from Idaho started pulling potatoes from her bag and throwing them out of the window.
...."What the heck are you doing?" demanded the Nebraskan.
...."We have so many of these darn things in Idaho, I am just sick of looking at them!"
....A moment later, the gal from Nebraska began pulling ears of corn from her bag and tossing them from the window. ...."What are you doing that for?" asked the gal from Florida.
...."We have so many of these things in Nebraska, I am just sick of looking at them!"
....Inspired, the gal from Florida opened the car door and pushed the New Yorker out.
OUR DAILY BREAD
Two elderly men, one from West Virginia and the other, Boston, were having a conversation about sex.
....Elmer, the West Virginian says, "Yes, I did it three times last night with a 30-year-old!"
....The Bostonian replies, "You're kidding! I can't even manage to do it once. What's your secret?"
....Elmer said, "Well, the secret is to eat lots of whole wheat bread. I'm not kidding!"
....So, the second old man rushed to the store. The clerk asks the old man, "May I help you?"
...."Yes, I'd like four loaves of whole wheat bread, please," he said.
...."That's a lot of bread. It's sure to get hard before you're done!" the clerk remarked.
....The Boston man replies, "Damn! Does everyone know about this except me?"
WALKING
A woman from Texas is visiting her sister in Boston. Over lunch, their conversation turned to men and sex.
....The woman from Boston, sick of her sister constantly bragging how everything is bigger and better in Texas decides to get the upper hand and says to the other, "The men are just wonderful hunks up here. They just walk up and stick it in."
....Unimpressed, her sisters replies, "Hell, that's nothing. The men in Texas stick in and then walk up."
A TIP OF THE HAT
At this time, I'd like to thank everyone who reads my posts and leaves their kind comments. I also wish to thank the lurkers, who "drive by" without leaving comments. All of you have made the effort to post so often, worthwhile. I hope the next 700 are as enjoyable for me to post and for you to read.
No.700

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

amBUSHed!


It's been a while since this Blog has bashed our illustrious President, ...er..Commander-In-Chief, ...er..fearless leader,...er..Don't tell me! I'll think of one!
....Weasel in Washington? Wannabe Warlord?

George W. Bush, when home in Texas, likes to act like a Texas cowhand. One day he went riding on his horse into town on a hot, dry, dusty day. The local sheriff watched from his chair in front of the saloon as the "cowboy" wearily dismounted and tied his horse to the rail a few feet in front of the sheriff. "Howdy, Mr. President," said the sheriff.
...."Howdy, Sheriff," said cowboy Bush..
Dubya moved slowly to the back of the horse, lifted its tail and placed a big kiss where the sun doesn't shine. He dropped the horse's tail, stepped up on the walk, and aimed towards the swing doors of the saloon.
...."Hold on there, Sir," said the sheriff. "Did I just see what I think I saw?"
...."I reckon you did, Sheriff. I got me some powerful chapped lips."
...."And does that cure them?" the sheriff asked.
...."Nope, but it keeps me from lickin' 'em!"

Here is a look at the proposed new Presidential Seal as drawn up by the Bush Administration. It evokes a powerful message of military dominance, oil dependency, and anarchy.
....The White House cartographers have been busy drawing up a new map of Iraq. There has been a proposal to change the name of the capital city from Baghdad to Bagmom in honor of the matriarch of the Bush clan.
....The Iraqi people are divided on having one of the oldest cities on earth renamed after a fat old broad.
....When expressing their worries that the U.S. might wish to annex their country, Bush said, "We already own it. It's a sub-division of Exxon/Mobil."
....Sensible Iraqis (excuse the oxymoron) admit that there is in fact a WMD. That Weapon of Mass Destruction however, is not in Iraq. It is seated in the Oval Office in Washington. (Click the image for a larger view.

Some of you must remember a fellow blogger, Rhiannon. Well, she's back! She has a post to protest the war in Iraq and to promote peace. She would like visitors to leave her a comment on our feelings in this matter. Why not at least pay her a visit to say hello?

Meanwhile in news closer to home, the Quaker Oats Company is retiring its long time Quaker trademark. In a nationwide search for a replacement, they found their "man." As soon as she donned the hat, they knew they had their Quaker. Barbara Bush's resemblance to the original Quaker was so dead-on that corporate officials feel that many people will not realize the change.

No.699

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Acrimonious Acronyms


It's another day in the Blogosphere. That smell of burning wood is not from a forest fire. It's not the embers from incense. It's not pot. It's not even Pinnochio trying to mate with the knot hole in a picket fence! ....It's the stinking thinking of Writer's Block!

Counting flowers on the wall,
That don't bother me at all.
Playing solitaire till dawn with a deck of 51;
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo;
So don't tell me ...I've nothing to do.
-Statler Brothers

Kind of sounds like Blogging, doesn't it? The Adidas picture above and its contrived acronym can be blamed for tonight's FUBAR* post. Any problems posting, however, can be summed up with the acronym PICNIC - Problem In Chair, Not In Computer. While on the subject of computers, FYI did know WINDOWS = Will Install Needless Data On Whole System?

....Here's a few fun ones:

CRAFT = Can't Remember A F**king Thing
PhD = Permanent Head Damage
MARLBORO = Men Always Remember Ladies Because Of Romantic Offers
LADDER = Longitudinal And Directional Distance Extremity Reacher
FART = Fecal Air Rectally Transmitted

My favorite ones are those that poke fun at the Auto Industry:

BMW - Big Money Waste
BUICK - Big Ugly Indestructible Compact Killer
CHEVROLET - Can Hear Every Valve Rattle On Long Extended Trips
CHEVY - Cheapest Heap Ever Visioned Yet
DODGE - Drips Oil Drops Grease Everywhere
FIAT - Fix It Again Tomorrow
FORD - Found On Road Dead
GM - Grinding Metal
GMC - Gotta Mechanic Coming
HONDA - Hold On, Not Done Accelerating
JEEP - Just Enough Engine Power
KIA - Killed In Action
MAZDA - Made At Zoo by Demented Apes
MG - Mostly Garaged
OLDSMOBILE - Old Ladies Driving Slowly Making Others Behind Increasingly Late Everyday
PINTO - Powerful Incendiary, Neatly Toasts Occupants
PLYMOUTH - Please Let Your Mother Out from Under The Hood
PONTIAC - Poor Old Nebraskan, Thinks It's A Cadillac
PORSCHE - Piece Of Rusty Scrap, Cost Highly Expensive
SUBARU - Still Usable But All Rusty Underneath
TOYOTA - The One You Ought To Avoid
VW - Virtually Worthless

*FUBAR - F**ked Up Beyond All Reason

Most of the above acronyms came from Business Balls.

No.698

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Contemporary Insanity


Johnny Appleseed, nee John Chapman, is a well known and loved figure in American lore. Although he did not literally cross the country spreading apple seeds in his wake, he is nonetheless responsible for the wide range of the apple trees across America.
....Chapman purchased large plots of land in what would become the states of the Midwest. During the late 1700s and well into the 1800s, he planted orchards of his apple trees. Westward traveling settlers would purchase his trees and take them along on their treks.
....After an orchard had been established, he would leave the land under the charge of a nearby settler who maintained it for a share of the profits. Chapman would then purchase more land to the west and start another orchard.
....The varieties of apples would be developed years later. The spread of the trees was further attributed to wild animals, such as deer and boar, which would carry the fruit far and wide. The seeds, deposited in the ready-made fertilizer of the animals' droppings, began to appear in the wild.
....Before he died in 1847, Johnny Appleseed had become one the New World's first millionaires. However, he continued to lived as a pauper and gave away most of his wealth.

Johnny Appleseed had a little known contemporary. He too crossed the country spreading seeds, but the fruit of his labor was not as well received.
....Jim Dandelion was a lover of tea. Ever since the days of the Revolutionary War, he had been inspired by his countrymen who had dumped the highly taxed British tea into Boston Harbor. Spurred into action by the Boston Tea Party, he began promoting dandelion tea.
....Familiar with the work of Johnny Appleseed, James Shlabotnik followed in his foot steps. He spread his his seeds all over the landscape of the early U.S. He reveled at how easily the seeds could be scattered just by blowing on the flowers. Of course nature's own winds help spread his beloved plant for miles upon miles.
....Later acknowledged by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, he tried to educate the people of the benefits of he dandelion. Dandelions are more nutritious than broccoli or spinach, contain more cancer-fighting beta-carotene than carrots, and are a rich source of calcium, iron, magnesium, potassium, thiamin, riboflavin, lecithin, and dietary fiber! All parts of the dandelion; leaves, flowers and roots are edible, each in their own season.
....The young, tender leaves of dandelions can be eaten as cooked greens, used in salads, gravies or in a variety of baked dishes. Pick the tender leaves before flowers bud or else they will become bitter.
....Dandelion flowers, from which the bitter stem and green parts need to be removed before using, can be dipped in batter and fried to make fritters or boiled for jellies as well as used in muffins and wines. Harvest dandelion roots during the fall and winter months. Cleaned, roasted and ground up, dandelion roots make a coffee-flavor, caffeine-free base for hot or cold beverages.
....Much maligned, the dandelion is now considered a weed to most Americans. So prolific is the plant, that it will grow virtually anywhere. Jim Dandelion's legacy is cursed by gardeners and lawns keepers all over the country.
....James Shlabotnik is only remembered in some small circles today. Little is known of his life. Perhaps there is one legacy for which he will be always remembered, and even that knowledge is obscure to most. His last known surviving relative was his grandson, Joe. Many of you will remember Joe Shlabotnik as Charlie Brown's favorite baseball player!

There are other contemporaries of Johnny Appleseed. They include Jessie Ragweed, Mary Kudzu, Daniel Clover, and Catherine Crabgrass. They are perhaps stories for another day.

No.697

Saturday, July 22, 2006

That's The Ticket!


It's still not too late to pledge your support for Monty in the up-coming 24-hour Blogathon. No pledge is too small. Won't you help her? Please?
...She'll be Blogging for Cerebral Palsy, a cause near and dear to her heart as she has a son who is inflicted with this terrible sickness.
...Visit her site, read her posts, and listen to her podcasts - she even sings!
...They say a pictures is worth a thousand words. How can you say no to this lovely face?
You can get one of these buttons to proudly display at your own site. You know you want to give!

Meanwhile, back to my normal Blogging antics...While I was creating the "David Letterman" image above, I couldn't help but to look for some more fun pictures to make. It gives me an excuse to throw up a few of them without any particular theme in mind. I have seen sites where you capture images of T-shirts with clever sayings. This is the first one that I've found that allows you to compose your own "clever" sayings.
....I just received my Blog Mastercard - I never stay home without it!
....If the government had its way, we would have to pay for the right to send and receive e-mail. If the telephone companies continue to get a foothold in Internet operations, there will little or no free sites on the web. We might someday have to pay for the right to blog. This is not good. I'm ahead of the curve on this issue. I have printed up my own tickets to hand out to friends and family.

I know this also has potential to be a money maker. I could sell these to those who are not family or friends. Even Hoss would see this is a golden opportunity to make his pile! His theater site draws quite a bit more visitors than mine. Still, I should be able to make enough coins to pay the ransom that Starbucks expects for their coffee. If I have at least one coin left over, I can put my new Monopoly Card to use.

An essential tool of the trade when I am blogging, is a legal notepad. I am constantly writing down thoughts and ideas for a potential future post. Some are nonsensical. Few are relevant.
....Have you ever left a note for yourself and couldn't read it? (I shudder to think how many doctors have done this.) My hand writing is good, so I can always read my notes. My problem is that sometimes I have no idea what the note was supposed to convey! For example, was "scooby do" a note to post something about a cartoon Great Dane? It might have instead meant for me to put up something about Frank Sinatra lyrics.
....Of course, I can always place some "Post-It"™ notes on a draft. That only works if I am at the computer though. This analytical brain also tells me that physical notes on the monitor would also require me to be in close proximity to said computer.

It looks like the pen and notebook will be at my side for a long time. Besides, it works for me. On the other hand, I do have a need to come up with some more bananas. My Blog Artist is close to going on strike. It seems two bananas a day isn't enough. It's hard to find good help these days.

The previous artist worked for peanuts. There was a problem, however. Have you ever seen the mess an elephant makes? I'm not talking about peanut shells either! You have no further to look than at Capitol Hill. It's going to take decades to clean up after Bush and the rest of his Republican clown troupe.

That's not to say that a herd of jackasses will do that much better, but at least their droppings will be more managable. (The last one liked cigars and turning over a page!)

As for me, I only have to cleanup after a chimpanzee and myself.

No. 696

Friday, July 21, 2006

The Last Supper Menu


Great Horny Toads! (In the immortal words of Yosemite Sam)

The book, the movie ... They've got it all wrong. You heard it here first!

Yes, Leonardo Da Vinci had in fact hidden a secret code in his paintings. It had nothing to do with the Holy Grail. The wench, Mary Magdalene played only a small part in his cipher. It was all about food.

Do you actually think they sat down at the head table and paid good pieces of silver for garlic bread and a cup of room temperature Kool-Aid? Of course not! It was their Last Supper before pulling up stakes on a long road trip.

With the boss picking up the tab, they went for Blue-Plate special items on the menu. Wouldn't you have done the same? Instead of Kool-Aid, they ordered their imbibations from the top shelf - two year-old Ripple. Mary Magdalene was the waitress assigned to their table.

They were a rowdy bunch whose reputation preceded them. Such was to be expected of the Mesopotamian championship soccer team. Between them they downed dozens of cups of the wine. The wine washed down plate after plate of the delicious appetizers that had made the Galilee Grill famous in the Roman controlled city. It was rumored that even the great Caesar had et tu plates in one sitting.

Like any athlete away from home, the men on the team kept trying to hit on Mary. (Everyone in the place looks up as a song begins playing on the juke box)
....The players say "Mary, you're a fine girl." (You're a fine girl)
...."What a good wife you would be." (Such a fine girl)
...."Yeah your eyes could keep a player in Galilee."
....(dooda-dit-dooda) (dit-dooda-dit-dood-dit)

Mary finally got a chance to sit down for a breather after the soccer team left. They had tipped her well, but she didn't have a chance to count the gratuities. Another large group had entered and took up their places at the table that had been abandoned by the soccer players. It was an odd rag-tag group of disciples led by a handsome Rabbi. Despite the sign outside that forbid sandals, the proprietor had allowed them to enter. Mary assumed that they must have slipped him a few pieces of silver.

The rest of the story is history, as recorded in the Christian scriptures. Leonardo had been awarded a contract to paint the Last Supper. He had painted two different smaller versions for the church officials to choose from, and in both he slipped in his secret code.

While others were looking for possible ascendants of Jesus, speculating that Mary was the Holy Grail, and suggesting that some secret societies were protecting that code, I saw the obvious.

The Holy Grail is not a chalice. The Holy Grail was not the mother of His children. The Holy Grail is not a continuation of His bloodline.

No, it was none of those. The Holy Grail was the menu from the famous Galilee Grill. On that menu is perhaps one of the greatest finds of all antiquity.

Da Vinci had hidden and preserved the original recipe for ... Frog Legs!

No.695

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Hoover Loves Ya, Baby?


Last summer I fell on some concrete steps and broke a rib. If you have ever broken a rib, then you know it can be quite painful. Sometimes going to see the doctor can be more painful than the injury itself.
....My primary care doctor two days a week works at an out-patient clinic. So it was that I found myself in the waiting room of a clinic. It was a very perceptive person who chose to name them "waiting" rooms.
....First, there was a line just to get registered. Next you had to find a seat and wait to be called in for triage. Triage is just a fancy word they use to determine how long you have to wait during the next phase of the process. Since my condition fell somewhere between "life threatening" and a "boo-boo," I was ranked in the bottom third of the pecking order. In a word, I wasn't going anywhere anyway soon.
....To put things in the proper perspective, I had downed two cups of coffee and had smoked at least four cigarettes, including one in the clinic's parking lot, before entering the building. Those facts considered, I had to sit and watch the steady parade of the sick and wounded come and go. Several walked in on their own and then left on a gurney headed for area hospitals. Finally I reached the last phase before you actually get to go a room where you wait for the doctor to come see you. A nurse takes your vitals so she can send you back to the waiting room before you get sent to the room to await the doctor.
....Wouldn't you know it? My blood pressure was on the high side. Before I could say, "Don't put me on a gurney," they had one waiting. I protested and refused to be sent to Mass General. I explained that after five cigarettes, three cups of coffee and the anxiety of waiting three and a half hours with a broken rib would raise a cadaver's blood pressure. By the way, right after the triage session, I went straight outside and lit up a cigarette. That was followed by a cup of coffee from the vending machines in the lobby. (You know those vending machines don't you: the ones where the coffee pours just before the cup drops down.)
....At long last I was being examined by my doctor who astutely told me that it looked like I had a broken rib. No shit, I thought I'd been struck by a howitzer shell. Off to x-ray! When the technician looked at the product of my irradiation, he said, "It looks like a broken rib." Back with the doctor, he confirmed it, I had a broken rib! I was humbled in the presence of such great minds.
...."Okay," I said, "How about prescribing me some drugs so I can go home and suffer in the comfort of my Lazy Boy?"

SURGICAL GLOVES
A surgeon was getting ready to perform a simple operation on an elderly lady. She had been administerd a local anesthetic. He noticed that she was a little nervous, so he began to tell her a story as he was putting on his surgical gloves...
...."Do you know how they make these rubber gloves?"
....She said, "No?"
...."Well," he spoofed, "down in Mexico they have this big building set up with a large tank of latex, and the workers are all picked according to hand size. Each individual walks up to the tank, dips their hands in, and then walk around for a bit while the latex sets up and dries right onto their hands! Then they peel off the gloves and throw them into the big 'Finished Goods Crate' and start the process all over again."
....And she didn't laugh a bit!!! Five minutes later, during the procedure, he had to stop because she burst out laughing.
....The old woman blushed and exclaimed, "I just suddenly thought about how they must make condoms!"

WHAT DOCTORS SAY / WHAT THEY'RE REALLY THINKING
* "This should be taken care of right away."
(I'd planned a trip to Hawaii next month but this is so easy and profitable that I want to fix it before it cures itself.)

* "Welllllll, what have we here...?"
(He has no idea and is hoping you'll give him a clue.)

* "Let me check your medical history."
(I want to see if you've paid your last bill before spending any more time with you.)

* "Why don't we make another appointment later in the week."
(I'm playing golf this afternoon, and this a waste of time or I need the bucks, so I'm charging you for another office visit.)

* "We have some good news and some bad news."
(The good news is, I'm going to buy that new BMW. The bad news is, you're going to pay for it.)

* "Let's see how it develops."
(Maybe in a few days it will grow into something that can be cured.)

* "Let me schedule you for some tests."
(I have a forty-percent interest in the lab.)

* "I'd like to have my associate look at you."
(He's going through a messy divorce and owes me a bundle.)

* "I'd like to prescribe a new drug."
(I'm writing a paper and would like to use you for a guinea pig.)

* "If it doesn't clear up in a week, give me a call."
(I don't know what it is. Maybe it will go away by itself.)

* "That's quite a nasty looking wound."
(I think I'm going to throw up.)

* "This may smart a little."
(Last week two patients bit off their tongues.)

* "Well, we're not feeling so well today, are we?"
(I'm stalling for time. Who are you and why are you here?)

* "This should fix you up."
(The drug company slipped me some big bucks to prescribe this stuff.)

* "Everything seems to be normal."
(Rats! I guess I can't buy that new beach condo after all.)


* "I'd like to run some more tests."
(I can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe the kid in the lab can solve this one.)

* "Do you suppose all this stress could be affecting your nerves?"
(You're crazier'n an outhouse rat. Now, if I can only find a shrink who'll split fees with me.)

* "There is a lot of that going around."
(My God, that's the third one this week. I'd better learn something about this.)

* "If those symptoms persist, call for an appointment."
(I've never heard of anything so disgusting. Thank God I'm off next week.)
No.694

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

What's In a Name?


A good story needs a good title.

Most prose is written before a title is assigned to it. Newspapers have headline writers. Some publishing companies have title writers.

Leave it to me, to put the carriage before the horse. I cannot count how many of my posts actually began with a title. As such, I keep a notebook of "non-working" titles. You might say they are unemployed titles.

These titles might range from puns to alliterations. They could be in the form of malapropisms. They might originate from existing movie, book or song titles. Sometimes they could be noted movie lines, or famous quotes and lyrics. Almost always I tend to add a twist to them or to mangle them, if you will.

I thought it might be interesting to use some of those "titles" collectively in a single post. For laughs, I added some possible scenarios if and when they are ever used. (Don't hold me to these scenarios.)

-1) I Could've Been A Bartender - A failed boxer spends evenings getting tossed out of bars.
-2) You Tolkien To Me? - A cab driver finds a wedding ring and struggles with a decision to turn it in or to pawn it.
-3) The Eiger Suction - In this sequel to Brokeback Mountain, the two men find themselves alone in the Swiss Alps.
-4) Raiders of the Lost Arcade - Indiana Jones discovers that Runic scriptures are actually "cheats" for video games.
-5) Show Me the Monkey - Playgirl magazine conducts its annual search for its Male Centerfold Of The Year.
-6) Go Ahead, Make My Day Bed - Dirty Harry now lives in an assisted living nursing home.
-7) Logan's Buns - Even in the future, streaking and exposed butt cracks are a bane to society.
-8) Dunga Din - The secret life of India's dung beetles.
-9) Stranded In The Jacuzzi - In Darkest Africa, Dr. Stanley locates Dr. Livingston at a health spa in a hot tub with the native women.
10) The Happy Cooker - Too old to turn tricks, Xavier Hollander takes up gourmet cooking in the nude. Only for the strong of stomach.
11) The Last Tanqueray In Paris - An older man has a torrid affair with a young woman until she runs out of gin.
12) Missing In Traction - Chuck Norris spends golden years looking for Veterans in hospitals.
13) Hooligans Island - British soccer fans get stranded on the same island where the Minnow went aground.
14) Romancing The Kidney Stone - Michael Douglas makes a fortune painting kidney stones for use on the bottom of fish tanks.
15) Spirit in the Sty - Babe the talking pig gets religion.
16) The Scarlet Litter - Hester Pryne breeds prize-winning show cats.
17) The Man of La Manga - Don Quixote in Italy where they have no windmills, has to tilt against the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
18) The Incredible Mr. Whip-it - Goofy little man makes a name for himself as a flasher.
19) The Fantastic Fools - Mr. Fantastic - George Bush, Invisible Girl - Laura, Human Torch - Rumsfeld, and The Thing - Cheney, battle America's will.
20) Close Encounters of the Thirsty Kind - Man gets drunk and builds science fair volcano.

No.693

Monday, July 17, 2006

Apples and Oranges


How do like them apples?

Is it possible that Eve was a blonde? Maybe Adam was blond.

I mean, how do you get kicked out of Paradise? Think about it, they weren't attracted to each other until after their genitals were covered with fig leafs! You mean to tell me that their parts weren't functional until they ate an apple?

Adam had in easy reach some juicy melons. Eve had her pick of a banana or some nuts. Why would they have any interest in an apple tree in the first place? It is said that there was a snake in that tree, right? That's all the more reason to avoid it.

As for the snake, maybe it played a part in the scheme of things in the end. With a woman around, it wouldn't have taken long for her to recognize the fashion possibilities of snake skin.

All she had to do was to wiggle her assets in front of the guy and he'd do anything to please her. It wouldn't have been long before she was sporting a brand new snake skin belt and snake skin garters.

The original sin? They brought about the extinction of the legendary apple snake. I have my doubts that there ever was an apple snake. I base that on the knowledge that the tree could not have been an apple tree! What makes me say that, and what proof have I? It's quite simple actually. Johnny Appleseed wasn't born yet and wouldn't be for several millenia. Without Johnny Appleseed, there are no apple trees.

Could it be that I'm talking apples and oranges here? There were no navel oranges back then. There were no navels to speak of. Everything was created, not born. Therefore there were no umbilical cords, and thus no navels.

It isn't that hard people. You have to think laterally, just like the Pointmeister. I aim to help you understand the differences between Creationism, Evolution and the Law of Supply and Demand. Now that we've ruled out apples and oranges, what kind of tree was it?

I submit for your approval that it was a nylon tree! That's right, a nylon tree. There was a day when that the tree came to fruit, and it was covered with nylons. That brings us back to the original sin and Eve. Being both blonde and a woman, she wouldn't have been able to resist the feel of that luxurious fruit upon her skin.

Imagine if you will, Adam watching her putting on and removing those nylons. Imagine Eve pleased when she saw how a certain part of Adam reacted to her performance. Imagine Adam assisting her to put them on and to take them off. Adam was a lucky man. Back then there were only stockings. There were no panty hose!

Now there was most certainly a snake in this tree. Leave it to Adam to figure out that he could use the skin that the snake shed every now and then. It was a no brainer that he would fashion the skin into a support to hold Eve's hose in place. Her nylons would no longer slip down her leg. Eve was the benefactor of history's very first garter belt. Though it is needless to say, Adam was a benefactor also.

As for the snake, if you haven't guessed already, it has survived to this very day. Once known as the hose snake and the nylon snake, it is a common garden variety snake today. It may be indirectly responsible for the first man and woman to get kicked out of Eden, but it is said that every other species of snake have a latent desire to be - a garter snake!

The original sin? They didn't know the difference between apples and oranges.

Why were they cast in exile from paradise? You might say that they hosed the Creator!

No.692

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Talking To The Walls

I am making a departure from the norm with this post. I hope you don't mind that I step out of myself, out of character, and venture into a darker side.

Michael Greene had been looking for a decent downtown apartment for several weeks. He could scarcely believe his good fortune to have found a first-floor flat so close to the waterfront. After four days of sleeping in his car, a week at the Y, and two weeks on his mother's living room couch, he was looking forward to his own bed.

He turned the key and allowed the door to the apartment swing open. To his left was a clean-looking galley kitchen, barely wide enough to accommodate a small table and chair. On the right was a large bedroom next to the closed door of the bathroom. He walked straight ahead into a large spacious living room. Resting his elbow on the mantle of the brick fireplace, he surveyed his new home.
...."Welcome, Michael." He jumped, startled by the unexpected voice.
...."Who's there?" he called out as he moved about the rooms. There was no one to be seen. He walked over to the door and peered outside. There was no one in sight. Closing the door, he shrugged his shoulders.
...."Hello, Michael," said the same voice.
....Greene twisted his head first to the left and then to the right, "Who's there?" he called out again. He moved furtively from room to room to confirm that he was indeed alone in the apartment. For good measure he opened every closet. He didn't relax until he threw open the shower curtain in the bathroom.
...."I must be hearing things," he said aloud.

It had taken him all of fifteen minutes to bring in the bags and boxes from his car around the corner. All of his wordly possessions had been stuffed into them. He stood over the pile he'd dropped on the floor in the center of the room, and mused that everthing that was him, was there in plastic and cardboard.
...."Pathetic isn't it, Michael?"
....He spun around and shouted, "Who are you? Where are you?" He clinched his fists and shouted into space, "What are you doing in my apartment?"
....He began to pace in a circle around the hillock of his belongings. Barely perceptible he muttered, "Great! Just great! Now I'm talking to the walls!"
....He moved into the bedroom and sitting down on the edge of the mattress, he removed his shoes. He sat in silence for a few minutes, listening. The only sounds were those his own nervous breathing. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was six pm. Satisfied that the voice had stopped, he lay back. A nap of two hours or so would do him a world of good he thought.

It was a restless sleep. Thoughts of his recent travails crept into his dreams. Like images in a slide show, the events of the last two months played out on the screen of his mind's eye. The lifeless body of his ex-wife appeared as real as it had on that fateful day.
....He had the eerie sensation of being outside of his own body. He watched himself as he carefully planted evidence and carefully removed any trace of his fingerprints. He saw the smug look on his own face as the police handcuffed the man who had lived next door to his estranged wife of five years.
....He knew that she had been seeing that asshole. Even in his sleep his face was contorted in a menacing sneer. Greene had felt that if he couldn't have his wife, then no one else could. He smiled with satisfaction as he looked upon himself as he sat in that courtroom. His countenance was that of a grieving man still in love with his ex-wife as the jury found the man guilty of murder in the first degree.

The images faded and the memories ceased. He found himself staring at a strange ceiling. It took him but a few moments to regain his bearings. It was the present and he was in a new apartment in a new city. He looked at his watch in surprise, for it displayed six o'clock. He bolted upright and turned to look out the window. Leaning forward and burying his face in his hands, he realized that he had slept for twelve hours.
...."Good morning, Michael."
....So unexpected was the voice, he was sent sliding onto the floor. "You again! Where are you, you son of a bitch?" He pulled himself to his feet and shook his fist at the unseen intruder.
...."I'm here, MIchael. I'm here with you."
....Greene grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "This is too much for me! Not only am I hearing voices, now I'm talking back to them!" Yanking the door open, he shouted back into the apartment, "I'm outta here!"
...."Michael, wait!" the voice said.
...."What? What!" Greene said in response.
...."Michael, do you think it wise to go out in your stocking feet?"

If you are bored with this story, you can stop here.

However, if you wish to continue reading this story, you can read on to it's conclusion at my other site.
Click here for the rest of story.

No.691

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Golf - a Volkswagen Model?


Golf is a good walk, ruined. - Mark Twain

Not being a golfer myself, I can only pay tribute to the sport with a few jokes and cartoons.

I am reminded of a Johnny Carson interview with his guest, Mrs. Arnold Palmer.
....Carson: "Is there anything you do for your husband for good luck when he's going to be playing in a PGA event?"
....Palmer: "Yes, I kiss his balls."
....Carson: (After pausing to look at audience) "That must straighten out his putter."

TOP TEN THINGS THAT SOUND DIRTY, BUT IN GOLF AREN'T:
10. Damn, my shaft is bent.
-9. After 18 holes, I can barely walk.
-8. You really whacked the hell out of that sucker.
-7. Look at the size of his putter.
-6. Keep your head down and spread your legs a bit more.
-5. Mind if I join your threesome?
-4. Stand with your back turned and drop it.
-3. My hands are so sweaty I can't get a good grip.
-2. Nice stroke, but your follow-through leaves a lot to be desired.
....And the number one thing that sounds dirty but in golf isn't:
-1. Hold up! I need to wash my balls first!

A young student studying to become a priest was sent out on an assignment to save a soul. While looking for someone in need of saving, he happens to walk by a golf course. An elderly man is teeing up for a drive as the student approaches. The golfer takes a mighty swing but misses completely the ball on the tee.
...."God damn! I missed it," said the man.
...."Mister," the lad calls out, "You should not be taking the name of the Lord in vain."
....The golfer eyes the young man suspiciously, but nods in acknowledgement to the man's request.
....The student decides to follow the golfer around the course. It isn't long before the golfer slices a shot into a stand of trees. "God damn! I f**kin' sliced it!"
....The student spoke up again, "Sir, kindly do not take the name of our Lord in vain." Once again the golfer nods.
....Over the course of the next 17 holes, the golfer several times lost control of his language. Each time he swore, the student pleaded with him to cease. Finally after a nice tee shot, and an accurate approach shot from the fairway, the golfer found himself less than a foot from the cup. He was two shots away from breaking 100 for the first time. The glared at the student to remain silent as he lined up his putt.
....The ball rimmed the hole and spun to the left. "God damn it to hell!" he screamed.
....The student priest became very animated, "I beg you, sir. Do not take the Lord's name in vain, for surely he will open up the sky and strike you down with lightning!"
...."Go away," the golfer shouted at the student. He lined up his putt, took a deep breath, and gently tapped the ball to the cup. Once it again it rimmed the hole and rolled away.
....He looked directly at the young man and roared defiantly, "God f**king damn! God damn it, I missed that putt!"
....Suddenly, dark clouds rolled in. There was a boom of thunder and a brilliant bolt of lightning hurtled earthward, striking and incinerating the would-be priest.
....Next a thunderous voice rang down from above, "Human damn! I missed again!"

A newly wed woman took a ride to the golf club where her husband was a member. She went to the local pro and explained that she wanted to learn to play golf, so she could spend more time with her husband on the weekends.
....The pro soon had her at the driving range and said to her, "Let me see you hit the ball from a tee, Mrs. Davis."
....After about a dozen swings which rendered only one ball traveling more than ten feet, the pro stopped her. "I think I see your problem. It's your grip. You've got it all wrong."
...."I've never held a golf club before," she replied. "What's the best way?"
....The pro thought for a moment and had an idea. "Mrs. Davis, I want you hold that golf club just like you hold your husband's penis when you are making love."
....The woman promptly addressed the ball, swung, and sent the ball 250 yards straight down the middle of the fairway.
....The pro said, "That was a great drive, Mrs. Davis. Now I want you to take the golf club out of your mouth and hold it in your hands."

No.690

Friday, July 14, 2006

Lyrical, Waxing Hysterical


"It's rainin' inside a big brown moon;
How does that mess you baby up, leg?
Eatin' a Reuben sandwich with saurkraut;
Don't stop now, baby, let it all hang out."

Let me guess, you're thinking, "Wow! That's profound!" Yeah, Right!

I'm sure some of you few of you will recognize the lines above as part of the lyrics to the Hombres' hit, Let It All Hang Out. Yes, I said hit. In the mid sixties that song was high on the charts.
....I don't claim to be a card carrying member of Mensa, but to this day I haven't a clue what message those lyrics were supposed to convey. That song, by no means is only one with perplexing lyrics that had listeners scratching their heads and saying, "WTF?"

I don't suppose anyone can tell me what John Fred and His Playboy Band were trying to tell us with Judy in Disguise (With Glasses) ?

"Keep a-wearin' your bracelets and your new rara,
Cross your heart - yeah - with your livin' bra.
Chimney sweep sparrow with guise
Judy in disguise ... with glasses."

Bruce Springsteen wrote the lyrics to Manfred Mann's Earth Band hit, Blinded By the Light. I wonder what he was smoking?

"Some brimstone baritone anti-cyclone rolling stone preacher from the east,
He says: Dethrone the dictaphone, hit it in its funny bone, that's where they expect it least."

Then there was Incense and Peppermints by Strawberry Alarm Clock:

"Good sense, innocence, cripplin' mankind;
Dead kings, many things I can't define;
Occasions, persuasions clutter your mind
Incense and peppermints the color of time."

Those are only four such songs that I could bring to mind for the time being, but I think you get the picture. Is it me, or is it like deciphering some code to try to figure out just what they were trying to say in these songs?

Have you any thoughts and/or insight into any of those lyrics? Perhaps you have a few similar lyrics from other songs that have you scratching your head and saying, "WTF?"

Thumbs up, grins and smiles to Karen for featuring my site on her Fun Friday post. Thank you Karen. Also I'd like to say thanks to the visitors she steered here. Welcome, and I hope you come back again. I'll be dropping by at your sites too.

No.689