It Occurred To Me

Burma Lake Scene

2011-12-28T10:37:00.000-08:00

AWESOME...........

A unique photograph.

What's so special about this?

This is a picture of a rock formation near a lake in Burma . The photo can only be

taken on a specific day once a year when the sun rays touch the rocks at a certain angle.

Tilt your head to the left and then look at it again.

Did you notice anything different?

Yes or no?

Now I will turn the whole scene vertical.

Mother Nature is Great ....

Respect it.

Protect Nature & Wild Life

~~Thanks, Cathy

№ 2139

Class of 2015

2011-11-30T09:24:00.000-08:00

This year’s entering college class of 2015 was born just as the Internet took everyone onto the information highway and as Amazon began its relentless flow of books and everything else into their lives. Members of this year’s freshman class, most of them born in 1993, are the first generation to grow up taking the word “online” for granted and for whom crossing the digital divide has redefined research, original sources and access to information, changing the central experiences and methods in their lives. They have come of age as women assumed command of U.S. Navy ships, altar girls served routinely at Catholic Mass, and when everything from parents analyzing childhood maladies to their breaking up with boyfriends and girlfriends, sometimes quite publicly, have been accomplished on the Internet.

Each August since 1998, Beloit College has released the Beloit College Mindset List, providing a look at the cultural touchstones that shape the lives of students entering college this fall. The creation of Beloit’s former Public Affairs Director Ron Nief and Keefer Professor of the Humanities Tom McBride, it was originally created as a reminder to faculty to be aware of dated references, and quickly became a catalog of the rapidly changing worldview of each new generation. Mindset List websites at Beloit College and at mindsetmoment.com, the media site webcast and their Facebook page receive more than a million hits annually.

Nief and McBride recently applied their popular format to 10 generations of Americans over 150 years in their new book, The Mindset Lists of American History: From Typewriters to Text Messages, What Ten Generations of Americans Think Is Normal (Wiley and Sons.).

As for the class of 2015, without any memory whatever of George Herbert Walker Bush as president, they came into existence as Bill Clinton came into the presidency. Their parents, frequently older than one might expect because women have always been able to get pregnant almost regardless of age, have hovered over them with extra care and have agreed with those states that mandated the wearing of bike helmets. Ferris Bueller could be their overly cautious dad, and Jimmy Carter is an elderly smiling public man who appears occasionally on television doing good works. “Dial-up,” Woolworths and the Sears “Big Book” are as antique to them as “talking machines” might have been to their grandparents. Meanwhile, as they’ve wondered why O.J. Simpson has always been suspected of something, they have all “been there, done that, gotten the Tshirt,” shortened boring conversations with “yadda, yadda, yadda,” and recognized LBJ as LeBron James.

For those who cannot comprehend that it has been 18 years since this year’s class was born, they will quickly confirm that the next four years will go even faster and, like the rest of us, they will continue to grow older at increasing speed.

The Mindset List for the Class of 2015

Andre the Giant, River Phoenix, Frank Zappa, Arthur Ashe and the Commodore 64 have always been dead.

Their classmates could include Taylor Momsen, Angus Jones, Howard Stern's daughter Ashley, and the Dilley Sextuplets.

There has always been an Internet ramp onto the information highway.
Ferris Bueller and Sloane Peterson could be their parents.
States and Velcro parents have always been requiring that they wear their bike helmets.
The only significant labor disputes in their lifetimes have been in major league sports.
There have always been at least two women on the Supreme Court, and women have always commanded U.S. Navy ships.
They “swipe” cards, not merchandise.
As they’ve grown up on websites and cell phones, adult experts have constantly fretted about their alleged deficits of empathy and concentration.
Their school’s “blackboards” have always been getting smarter.
“Don’t touch that dial!”….what dial?
American tax forms have always been available in Spanish.
More Americans have always traveled to Latin America than to Europe.
Amazon has never been just a river in South America.
Refer to LBJ, and they might assume you're talking about LeBron James.
All their lives, Whitney Houston has always been declaring “I Will Always Love You.”
O.J. Simpson has always been looking for the killers of Nicole Simpson and Ronald Goldman.
Women have never been too old to have children.
Japan has always been importing rice.
Jim Carrey has always been bigger than a pet detective.
We have never asked, and they have never had to tell.
Life has always been like a box of chocolates.
They’ve always gone to school with Mohammed and Jesus.
John Wayne Bobbitt has always slept with one eye open.
There has never been an official Communist Party in Russia.
“Yadda, yadda, yadda” has always come in handy to make long stories short.
Video games have always had ratings.
Chicken soup has always been soul food.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show has always been available on TV.
Jimmy Carter has always been a smiling elderly man who shows up on TV to promote fair elections and disaster relief.
Arnold Palmer has always been a drink.
Dial-up is soooooooooo last century!
Women have always been kissing women on television.
Their older siblings have told them about the days when Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and Christina Aguilera were Mouseketeers.
Faux Christmas trees have always outsold real ones.
They’ve always been able to dismiss boring old ideas with “been there, done that, gotten the T-shirt.”
The bloody conflict between the government and a religious cult has always made Waco sound a little whacko.
Unlike their older siblings, they spent bedtime on their backs until they learned to roll over.
Music has always been available via free downloads.
Grown-ups have always been arguing about health care policy.
Moderate amounts of red wine and baby aspirin have always been thought good for the heart.
Sears has never sold anything out of a Big Book that could also serve as a doorstop.
The United States has always been shedding fur.
Electric cars have always been humming in relative silence on the road.
No longer known for just gambling and quickie divorces, Nevada has always been one of the fastest growing states in the Union.
They’re the first generation to grow up hearing about the dangerous overuse of antibiotics.
They pressured their parents to take them to Taco Bell or Burger King to get free pogs.
Russian courts have always had juries.
No state has ever failed to observe Martin Luther King Day.
While they’ve been playing outside, their parents have always worried about nasty new bugs borne by birds and mosquitoes.
Public schools have always made space available for advertising.
Some of them have been inspired to actually cook by watching the Food Channel.
Fidel Castro’s daughter and granddaughter have always lived in the United States.
Their parents have always been able to create a will and other legal documents online.
Charter schools have always been an alternative.
They’ve grown up with George Stephanopoulos as the Dick Clark of political analysts.
New kids have always been known as NKOTB.
They’ve always wanted to be like Shaq or Kobe: Michael Who?
They’ve often broken up with their significant others via texting, Facebook, or MySpace.
Their parents sort of remember Woolworths as this store that used to be downtown.
Kim Jong-il has always been bluffing, but the West has always had to take him seriously.
Frasier, Sam, Woody and Rebecca have never Cheerfully frequented a bar in Boston during primetime.
Major League Baseball has never had fewer than three divisions and never lacked a wild card entry in the playoffs.
Nurses have always been in short supply.
They won’t go near a retailer that lacks a website.
Altar girls have never been a big deal.
When they were 3, their parents may have battled other parents in toy stores to buy them a Tickle Me Elmo while they lasted.
It seems the United States has always been looking for an acceptable means of capital execution.
Folks in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City have always been able to energize with Pepsi Cola.
Andy Warhol is a museum in Pittsburgh.
They’ve grown up hearing about suspiciously vanishing frogs.
They’ve always had the privilege of talking with a chatterbot.
Refugees and prisoners have always been housed by the U.S. government at Guantanamo.
Women have always been Venusians; men, Martians.
McDonalds coffee has always been just a little too hot to handle.
“PC” has come to mean Personal Computer, not Political Correctness.
The New York Times and the Boston Globe have never been rival newspapers.

№ 2138

Warning ... Democrat Voters

2011-10-03T10:50:00.000-07:00

Warning... My Democrat friends will be offended by this. Only read it if you have an open mind and a sense of humor..........
When your "friends" cannot explain why they voted for Democrats, give them this list. They can then pick their reasons from the "TOP 12"...

1. I voted Democrat because I believe oil companies' profits of 4% on a gallon of gas are obscene, but the government taxing the same gallon of gas at 43% isn't.

2. I voted Democrat because I believe the government will do a better job of spending the money I earn than I would.

3. I voted Democrat because Freedom of Speech is fine, as long as nobody is offended by it.

4. I voted Democrat because I'm way too irresponsible to own a gun, and I know that my local police are all I need to protect me from murderers and thieves.

5. I voted Democrat because I believe that people who can't tell us if it will rain on Friday can tell us that the polar ice caps will melt away in ten years if I don't start driving a Prius.

6. I voted Democrat because I'm not concerned about millions of babies being aborted, so long as we keep all death row inmates alive.

7. I voted Democrat because I think illegal aliens have a right to free health care, education, and Social Security benefits.

8. I voted Democrat because I believe that business should not be allowed to make profits for themselves. They need to break even and give the rest away to the government for redistribution as the Democrats see fit.

9. I voted Democrat because I believe liberal judges need to rewrite the Constitution every few days to suit some fringe groups who would never get their agendas past the voters.

10. I voted Democrat because I think that it's better to pay billions to people who hate us for their oil, but not drill our own because it might upset some endangered beetle or gopher.

11. I voted Democrat because while we live in the greatest, most wonderful country in the world, I was promised "HOPE AND CHANGE".

12. I voted Democrat because my head is so firmly planted up my ass, it's unlikely that I'll ever have another point of view.

№ 2137

Getting There ...

2011-09-01T13:05:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm getting there. My desire is piquing, my creative juices are beginning to flow ... once again ...

And HONESTLY, I've been working on the final chapter ... the conclusion of Butterfly Dreams ... it is 2/3 complete!

Why, I even worked the gumption to surf the web to grab a few jokes to be fodder for a post. This post!

~~~ So Much Fun ~~~
A suspicious husband hired a private eye to check on the movements of his wife. In addition to a written report, the husband wanted a video of his wife's activities.

A week later, the detective returned with a film. They sat down together and proceeded to watch it.

Although the quality was less than professional, the man saw his wife meeting another man! He saw the two of them strolling arm in arm and laughing in the park. He saw them enjoying themselves at an outdoor cafe. He saw them dancing in a dimly lit nightclub. He saw them take part in a dozen activities with utter glee.

"I just can't believe this," said the distraught husband.

"What's not to believe?" the detective said. "It's right up there on the screen!"

"I simply can't believe my wife could be so much fun!" the husband replied.

~~~ Social Security ~~~
A retired gentleman went to the social security office to apply for Social Security.

The woman behind the counter asked him for his driver's license to verify his age. He looked in his pockets and realized he had left his wallet at home. He told the woman that he was very sorry but he seemed to have left his wallet at home. "I will have to go home and come back later."

The woman says, "Unbutton your shirt." So he opens his shirt revealing curly silver hair. She says, "That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me" and she processed his Social Security application.

When he gets home, the man excitedly tells his wife about his experience at the social security office. She says, "You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability too."

Encyclopaedia Britannica
Seen in my local paper's "readers sales" section.

FOR SALE BY OWNER

Complete set of encyclopaedia Britannica.
45 Volumes. Excellent condition.
£1000 pounds or best offer.

Reason for sale:- No longer required. Got married last weekend. Wife knows F**king everything.

~~~ Second Opinion ~~~
A man and his wife are having a fight at the breakfast table. Husband gets up in a rage and says, "And you are no good in bed either," and storms out of the house. After sometime he realizes he was nasty and decides to make amends and calls home.

She comes to the phone after many rings and the irritated husband says, "What took you so long to answer the phone?"

She says, "I was in bed."

"In bed this early, doing what?" Shouts the man.

"Getting a second opinion!"

~~~ Bookworm ~~~

"For Heaven's sake, Chris, why can't you talk to me once in a while?" Julie whined.

"What?" Chris replied.

"Look around!" Julie yelled, as she pointed around the room. "Look at all these books! You always have your head buried in a book! You don't even seem to know I'm alive!"

"I'm sorry, honey," Chris said.

"Sometimes I wish I were a book. Maybe then you'd at least look at me!" Julie exclaimed.

"Hmmmm," Chris mumbled, "that's not such a bad idea. Then I could take you to the library every few days and change you for something more interesting."

~~~ Call me Bubba ~~~

A man boarded an airplane and took his seat. As he settled in, he glanced up and saw a very beautiful woman boarding the plane.

He soon realized she was heading straight towards his seat. Lo and behold, she took the seat right beside his.

Eager to strike up a conversation, he blurted out, "Business trip or vacation?" She turned, smiled and said, "Business. I'm going to the Annual Nymphomania Convention in Chicago".

He swallowed hard. Here was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen sitting next to him and she was going to a meeting for nymphomaniacs!

Struggling to maintain his composure, he calmly asked, "What's your business role at this convention?"

"Lecturer," she responded. "I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality."

"Really, " he said, "what myths are those?"

"Well," she explained, "one popular myth is that African American men are the most well endowed when, in fact, it's the Native American Indian who is most likely to possess that trait.

Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the men of Jewish descent.

We have, however, found that the best potential lover in all categories is the Southern redneck."

Suddenly, the woman became a little uncomfortable and blushed. "I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't really be discussing this with you. I don't even know your name."

"Tonto," the man said, "Tonto Goldstein. But my friends call me Bubba..

~~~ The Raffle Ticket ~~~

A woman arrives home from work and her husband notices she's wearing a diamond necklace. He asks his wife, "Where did you get that necklace?"

She replies, "I won it in a raffle at work. Go get my bath ready while I start dinner."

The next day, the women arrives home from work wearing a diamond bracelet. Her husband asks, "Where did you get the bracelet?"

She replies, "I won it in a raffle at work. Go get my bath ready while I start dinner."

The next day, her husband notices she arrives home from work wearing a mink coat. He says, "I suppose you won that in a raffle at work?" She replies, "Yeah I did! How did you guess? Go get my bath ready while I start supper."

Later after supper, she goes to take her bath and she notices there is only one inch of water in the tub. She yells to her husband, "HEY! There's only an inch of water in the tub."

He replies, "I didn't want you to get your raffle ticket wet."

~~~ Slip of the Tongue ~~~

A guy with a black eye boards his plane bound for Pittsburgh and sits down in his seat. He notices immediately that the guy next to him has a black eye, too.

He says to him, "Hey, this is a coincidence, we both have black eyes; mind if I ask how you got yours?"

The other guy says, "Well, it just happened, it was a tongue twister accident.

See, I was at the ticket counter and this gorgeous blonde with the most massive breasts in the world was there. So, instead of saying, 'I'd like two tickets to Pittsburgh,' I accidentally said, 'I'd like two pickets to Tittsburgh'....so she socked me a good one."

The first guy replied, "Wow! This is unbelievable. Mine was a tongue-twister too.

I was at the breakfast table and I wanted to say to my
wife, "Please pour me a bowl of Frosties, honey.'

But I accidentally said, 'You have ruined my life you evil, self-centered, fat-assed bitch.'

~~~ Mother of Six! ~~~

A man has six children and is very proud of his achievement. He is so proud of himself, that he starts calling his wife,"Mother of Six " in spite of her objections.

One night, they go to a party. The man decides that it's time to go home and wants to find out if his wife is ready to leave as well. He shouts across the room at the top of his voice, "Shall we go home Mother of six?'"

His wife, irritated by her husband's lack of discretion shouts right back, "Anytime you're ready, Father of Four."

~~~ A Time of Weakness ~~~

Rosemary had been divorced for a few years and was finding life very lonely.

Finally, after much persuasion, she consented to go out on a date with Andy, a gentleman her daughter fixed her up with.

Andy picked her up and they went to a very secluded spot to have a picnic.

Andy had also been divorced for quite some time and found himself very attracted to Rosemary.

Despite her initial resistance to his advances, he finally suceeded in making love to her.

Rosemary was mortified at her lack of self-control and sobbed, "I don't know how I'm going to face my daughter, knowing that in a time of weakness, I sinned twice!"

"What do you mean, twice?" Andy asked. "We only did it once."

"Well, you're going to do it again, aren't you?" Rosemary asked.

~~~ New Relationship Book ~~~

"My wife suggested a book for me to read to enhance our

relationship. It's titled: 'Women are from Venus, Men are Wrong.'"

№ 2136

The Green Thing

2011-08-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

It's not original. It was received in an e-mail from my sister-in-law. (Thanks, Beverly.) It is, however, good enough to break the ice and end the month-plus hiatus this blog has been experiencing.

The Green Thing

In the line at the store, the cashier told an older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren't good for the environment.

The woman apologized to him and explained, "We didn't have the green thing back in my day."

The clerk responded, "That's our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment."

He was right -- our generation didn't have the green thing in its day.

Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled.

But we didn't have the green thing back in our day.

We walked up stairs, because we didn't have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn't climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks.

But she was right. We didn't have the green thing in our day.

Back then, we washed the baby's diapers because we didn't have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts -- wind and solar power really did dry the clothes. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing.

But that old lady is right; we didn't have the green thing back in our day.

Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house -- not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana.

In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand because we didn't have electric machines to do everything for us.

When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used a wadded up old newspaper to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.

Back then, we didn't fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn't need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity.

But she's right; we didn't have the green thing back then.

We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water.

We refilled writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull.

But we didn't have the green thing back then.

Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service.

We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn't need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest pizza joint.

But isn't it sad the current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn't have the green thing back then?

№ 2135

Happy 4th of July

2011-07-04T16:43:00.000-07:00

They couldn't have foreseen the fruits of their efforts, but I'm sure they would be celebrating with us.

I wish a happy and safe 4th of July to everyone.

№ 2134

Butterfly Dreams (59)

2011-06-17T19:28:00.000-07:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Rosie's Revenge

My mind was straining to project thoughts to Rosie in attempt to plead with her. Next to me, I could sense that Michelle was also attempting the same thing. If she sensed either of our thoughts, Rosie offered no response.

Glancing at Baxter and O'Day, their blank stares only confirmed that they were being controlled. I momentarily wrestled with the idea of charging one of them and trying to seize one of the weapons. I dismissed the thought however, knowing that even if I succeeded, the other would probably have the drop on me.

Then there was a crawling feeling inside of my head. My mind was being probed. Someone was trying to pilfer my thoughts. I slammed my eyelids shut and tried to force the intrusive mind from my head. Inexplicably I felt a surge of neural energy that seemed to spring from deep within my psyche and the invading thoughts were cast away.

Next to me, before I had a chance to ponder the occurrence, Michelle stumbled but was able to regain her balance. Grabbing my arm she leaned against me and whispered, "What just happened?"

It was apparent to me that she'd also experienced the same intrusion and ouster of the alien mind. "I don't know," was my barely perceptible reply.

"Break it up, you two!" Gates barked. His eyes met mine and he said, "I guess I'm going to have to separate you and the missus, eh?"

With Baxter steering Michelle to the far end of the array of consoles, O'Day guided me to the seat in front of the nearest one and waved his pistol for me to sit. When I hesitated he touched the pistol against my shoulder and shoved me into the chair with his free hand.

"Brock? Why are you doing this?" I pleaded hoping to break the trance to which he'd been subjected. If he heard my words at all, he ignored them.

"People," Gates shouted, "I need all of you conscious and there is no need for anyone to get hurt. I want you to pick up those headsets now ... and put them on ..."

As I slipped the device onto my head I thought of Rosie's thoughts to Michelle and me that we would be unaffected. It was her fate however, that troubled me. Why was she so adamant that her sacrifice was necessary? I turned my head to my left trying to locate her in the room. Staring at the wall before her, she too had donned one of the neural headsets.

Rosie had positioned herself at the console next to Michelle. Although she showed no signs of interaction with her, I couldn't help but wonder if her choice of seats might have been by design. I looked up as Jordan slid into the seat next to me. Perhaps his positioning was by design also?

I felt his presence behind me. Addams/Gates placed his hands on the back of my chair and chortled, "Relax, Mr. Black. No one can help you now. In a couple of minutes you won't remember our differences. Why, I will even go so far as to predict that you will become one of my biggest supporters."

"But, Julius," Jordan quipped, "it will not be of his own free will."

"Ah, Bishop, my one time associate-turned enemy has decided to honor me by addressing me directly." He eyed the old man with disdain and snorted, "You of all people know what power I have at hand. Free will? Shortly my will shall be the only one that matters."

"You've gone stark raving mad!" Faye screeched.

He stepped in her direction and grinned. "Step-daughter, it was always you who demanded and received special attention. Everything was handed to you. The more you were given, the more you wanted. Your sister on the other hand, always worked her fingers to the bone for everything she wanted." He paused, placed his fists on his hips and continued, "Well today that will all change. It's her turn to want for nothing."

"Father," Rosie said in an almost mechanical tone, "let us proceed."

Addams/Gates was visibly chagrined to have his ramblings interrupted but was quick to gather his composure. He crossed the room and stood before a vacant console. After donning a headset he moved in front of a master control panel and allowed his finger to hover near a large toggle switch.

He glanced at the row of consoles and the individuals seated before them. "For me, this is victory. For you, Rosie, it is revenge."

Without hesitating another moment he flipped the switch. In a trice the room was filled with agonizing guttural screams as the insides of our heads were ignited with searing pain. Then everything went black.

To be continued

Dreams On Wings

№ 2133

Smokers Synonymous

2011-06-11T11:18:00.000-07:00

I don't want to become one of those obnoxious ex-smokers! You know the ones I mean - the ones who have taken up a cross and have set out on a crusade to make life miserable for those who still smoke.

No, I won't be one of those who pontificate against that nasty addiction. But having just recently begun the process of giving up smoking, I will maintain a measure of advocacy for the rights of smokers. Besides, I'm not that far removed from lighting up myself. I can only claim to be an ex-smoker for six days and that hardly qualifies me as one who has successfully kicked the habit.

The last three weeks have seen a decline in my output and my attention to this blog. On the 24th of last month I was given new prescriptions for my blood pressure, iron count and water retention. Then on the 5th of this month, last Sunday, I applied the first Nicoderm patch onto my arm. Thankfully, the patch, so far, has proven effective.

I have been noticing brief periods of light-headedness and difficulty concentrating. Although I've had some post ideas, it seems that every time I sit down at the keyboard I go blank or lose my desire to type the thoughts to the blog.

I can only assume that the combination of new meds might be responsible of the light-headedness. Perhaps the lack of concentration is a side effect of the patch? Perhaps it's all in my head ...

... I mean, I had never posted to my blog without a lit cigarette close at hand. I keep thinking I should take a drag ... BUT ... I'm not actually craving a cigarette - at least not consciously. They say the urge never goes away ...

To those who have been reading and following my story, Butterfly Dreams, I am working on it ... really! It's ironic, but there are only about TWO installments left until its conclusion. I have to keep backtracking to previous chapters to make sure I'm tying up any loose ends.

Next Wednesday I have an appointment - more blood work - and will inquire about light head and lack of concentration. The following Tuesday there will be a follow-up appointment to assess the results of the blood work. (Hopefully the iron count will have improved, the blood pressure will have come down and the water retention will have been brought under control.)

Why Not Post Some Smoking Humor?
I had been a heavy smoker since I was a teenager, but to my surprise was able to quit "cold turkey." However, my weight shot up and I felt very self-conscious. When a friend congratulated me on giving up cigarettes, I exclaimed, "But look at all these added pounds!"

Her reply was one I'll always treasure. "Oh, my dear, don't worry about that!" she said. "Just think of all the extra years you will have in which to lose them."

A young couple had been married for a couple of weeks, and the man was always after his wife to quit smoking.

One afternoon, she lit up after some lovemaking, and he said, "You really ought to quit."

She, getting tired of his nagging, said, "I really enjoy a good cigarette after sex."

He replied, "But they stunt your growth."

She asked if he ever smoked, and he replied that he never had.

Smiling and lifting her gaze to his groin, she said, "So, what's your excuse?"

A tobacco company had heard that the oldest citizen of a certain

village had been smoking their product for over fifty years. They

dispatched a public-relations man to the village to interview him.

“Sir,” the P.R. man said, “we are prepared to fly you to California

to appear on an early morning television show to give a testimonial

about our tobacco company.”

“Can’t do it!” replied the seasoned smoker.

“You can’t do it?” asked the P.R. man. “Don’t you want a free plane

ticket to California?”

“Yep, I’d like to go to California, but I can’t do it.”

“Well, Sir,” said the P.R. man, “we’re prepared to put you up in one

of the nicest hotels in Los Angeles for at least three nights. Wouldn’t

that be wonderful?”

“Yep, it would be wonderful, but I can’t do it!”

“Why can’t you do it?” screamed the P.R. man.

“Well, young fellow,” he said, “I can’t fly to California and appear

on that morning television show to give a testimonial about your tobacco

because I don’t stop coughing until noon!”

Three little boys were sitting on a porch. One says, "My daddy smokes and he can blow smoke rings." ~~The second boy pipes up, "Well my daddy smokes too, and he can blow smoke out of his eyes." ~~The third one, not to be outdone, responds, "My dad can blow smoke out of his butt!" ~~"Really?" said his friends amazed. "Have you seen him do it?" ~~The boy shook his head and answered, "No, but I've seen the tobacco stains on his underwear."

№ 2132

Monkey Off My Back

2011-06-05T23:00:00.000-07:00

Sunday 6/5/11: At the time of this posting, it has been 12 hours since my last cigarette !

Now, I realize that when it comes to kicking such an addictive and nasty habit, 12 hours is nothing in the scheme of things. (After all, I've been smoking since March of 1968 - that's 43 years and two months!)

I'd like to say that I'm undergoing this endeavor cold turkey ... but no, I've been sporting "The Patch" since 11 this morning. I smoked, hopefully, my last cigarette at 10:30 with my second cup of coffee.

Dousing that cigarette, I considered the two ashtrays, the one on the end table next to my recliner and the other next to the keyboard of my PC, and promptly removed them from my sight.

I anticipate that there will be some anguished moments - withdrawal symptoms - but so far there have been none. I've heard stories where others began to eat more frequently for the sake of having something to put into their mouths. (Thankfully, there is plenty of cutup cantaloupe and watermelon in the fridge!)

Not trusting my resolve or willpower, I DID leave one lone cigarette in the pack. I decided to test that resolve - I'm looking at that pack now - by leaving it within easy reach of the keyboard.

If that cigarette, so accessible, calls me and I am able to ignore it, then today's actions won't have been vain. If on the other hand I succumb to its beckoning, then I'll know just how hard it will be to continue.

I think the biggest test will present itself tomorrow at 11 AM. They say the first 24 hours are the most difficult. So far the first 12 have been pretty easy ...

Wish me luck!

№ 2131

Remember: Never Forget

2011-05-29T17:17:00.000-07:00

These Editorial Cartoonists Can Say It Much better Than I

(The following editorial cartoons were taken from Caigle Cartoon Index)

№ 2130

Butterfly Dreams (58)

2011-05-24T18:37:00.000-07:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

The Enemy Within

"Immortal? You can't be serious!" O'Day yelped.

King's solemn glare was a declaration that he was indeed serious. He spoke with icy deliberation, "You should realize that Gates, as President, has at his immediate disposal highly placed individuals whom he can easily manipulate to do his bidding. These include the Vice President, a handful of senators, high-ranking military leaders, and the heads of several agencies."

"All of whom are past recipients of the neural implants," I added bitterly.

"Correct." he responded. He cleared his throat and paused to study those of us in the room. "Let me hypothesize for a moment. Suppose that in next November's primary Addams feels that he will not win the nomination ..."

"Good grief," O'Day resounded, "he would be able to influence the party to select someone he has in his back pocket."

I shook my head at the police sergeant and uttered, "I'm afraid you're missing the bigger picture, Brock. He will ..."

Rosie stepped forth interrupting me, "Regardless of the nominee ... regardless of Presidential election results ... he will only have to transfer his mind into that person. Unless we are able to stop him, he is in a position to become a perpetual President of the United States."

"Jesus!" O'Day yelped. "When he shows up, why don't I just shoot the bastard?"

"Do you really want to go down in history as the man who assassinated the President?" Baxter reasoned aloud.

"No. No I don't," O'Day replied. He looked into his wife's eyes, "Faye, I don't really want to shoot your step-father either."

"I know," she nodded, "but as far as I'm concerned ... he's dead anyway."

Rosie arose from her chair next to Faye and walked into the center of the room. She raised her hands to her temples and whispered, "They're here now. They are on the street in front of the building."

Both Michelle and I stared wide-eyed as Rosie's thoughts penetrated our own. "Julius, David, there is a door in the back of the convenience store ..."

"Rosie?" I muttered. "You're leading them right to us?"

She seemed to ignore my words and turned to both Baxter and O'Day. Without speaking she bowed her head. The two men, their eyes appearing glazed, stepped forth and produced pistols from their pockets. Falling in on either side of her they leveled the weapons menacingly at the rest of us.

"Rosie?" Stu Jankowski sputtered. "You? You're the enemy within?"

"Enough chatter," Baxter shouted. "All of you into the next room."

At that same moment the door to the stairway swung open to reveal David and President Addams. From his swagger it was obvious that Gates was in complete charge of Addams' mind and body. David's eyes were as glazed as those of O'Day and Baxter.

Addams/Gates was grinning from ear to ear and gave a victorious thumbs-up gesture to Rosie. "I gotta hand it to you, it worked. Getting them all together in one place ... here ... was a stroke of brilliance!"

Her response was just a weak grin and she seemed to tremble when she spoke, "We must get to work. I'm growing weak. I can't hold them much longer."

"You heard her, people," Baxter snapped. "Into the next room ... now!"

"Jeremy ... Brock," I pleaded, "you can't let this happen. We've got to stop them."

The barrel of O'Day's pistol grazed the side of my head. He kept the gun elevated near my face and sneered, "Wake up and smell the coffee, Michael. It's over and you've lost!"

One by one we were marched into the next room. I gasped as I looked upon a row of consoles like those that had lined the inner bulkhead of the destroyed aircraft. At each one of the consoles lie the neural headsets.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Gates barked, "have a seat at the stations and kindly place those headsets upon your pretty little heads."

To be continued ...

Rosie's Revenge

№ 2129

Cletis Clyde's Mem-wires

2011-05-15T18:07:00.000-07:00

Howdee, folks. Cletis Clyde here.

I was a-thinkin' that someday I jest might try to write down some of my mem-wires. So whilst I was a-thinkin', I got to wonderin' what rememberances I would want to jot down in a book. I reckon I should start wiffin my days when I was little.

When I was a youngin' I used to walk into class at school every morning with a black eye. After a while my teacher got worried and asked me about it. "Cletis, why do you come to school every day with a black eye? Are you getting into fights?" I answered, "Our house is very small, miss. Me, my mother and my father, we sleep on the same bed. Every night my father asks, 'Cletis you sleeping?' "When I said, "No" he slapped my face and gave me a black eye." So the teacher says to me, "Tonight when your father asks again, keep dead quiet and don't answer". The following morning when I came to school my eye was fine, so the teacher breathed a sigh of relief. But the day after that I came back with two black eyes. Alarmed the teacher asked, "My goodness Cletis, why the black eye again?" I told her, "Mam, Dad asked me again, 'Cletis are you sleeping?'...and I shut up and kept dead still. Then my father and my mother started moaning (you know) at the same time. Mom was breathing heavy, and kicking her legs up and squealing like a hyena on the bed. Then my father asked my mother, 'Are you coming?' Then my mom said, 'Yes I'm coming, are you coming too?' My dad answered 'Yes'. They don't usually go anywhere without me so I said, 'Wait for me...'"

Then they is the time that I looked into a mirror for the very firs' time. You see' it was like this, my uncle was always a-sayin' that my paw an' maw was jest about the ugliest couple in the hills. I guess my paw believed him and 'cause of that he said we could never have any mirrors in our house.

After living way back in the remote hills of West Virginia all my life, I decided it was time to visit the big city. In one of the stores I picked up a mirror, and not knowing what it was I looked in it. Not ever having seen one before, I was surprised at the image staring back at me. I said, "How about that! Here's a picture of my Paw." So I done bought the mirror thinking it was a picture of the old man, but on the way home I remembered that my wife didn't like my father a'tall. So I hung it up in the barn so's she wouldn't see it. Afterwards, every morning before I would wander there and look at it. Then I'd go in there in the afternoon and then again a-fore suppertime. My wife began to get suspicious 'bout all my many trips to the barn. One day she followed me out to the barn and found me lookin' in the mirror. She shoved me aside and when she looked into the mirror, she screamed, "So that's the ugly bitch you's been runnin' around with."

I 'spose I could put down a few lines about when I was a-datin' a-fore I got hitched. What book of mem-wires don't have stuff 'bout courtin' and a-sparkin'?

A while back, when I was considerably younger, I picked up this purty gal at her parents' house down the holler a bit from where I lived. I really fancied her and wanted to impress her. I'd scraped together some money to take her to a nice fancy restaurant. Hell's bells iffin she didn't up and order the most expensive items on the menu. She musta thought I was made of money cause she got some champagne, shrimp cocktail, and lobster. I asked her, "Does your maw feed you like this when you eat at home?" "No," she replied. "but my mother's not expecting me to get on my knees in front of her fly either." What can I say? I asked her if she wanted dessert.

I remember the time that I learned that a feller can meet some gals by a-ridin' on a bus.

I was on a bus one day, when this purty young woman sat opposite me. Tarnation iffin she didn't start to breast feed her baby right there in the seat next to me! "Come on, eat up, or I'll give it to that man over there," she says to the baby. I don't have to tell you that sure got my 'tenshun. Ten minutes later, she is still trying to feed the baby and says, "Come on, or mummy will give it to that man over there." Well I looked over to the woman and says, "For heaven's sake missus, will you make your mind up. I should've got off this bus 3 stops ago!"

I think I would like fer my mem-wires to show that I'm really quite a romantic feller.

One night after a long days barbeque, I was a-sitting with my wife on the back porch. I was jest relaxin' wiffin' a cold Carlings in hand. I felt that life didn't get no better than that and so I said, “I love you.” My wife piped up, “Is that you, or the beer talking?” I answered, “It’s me ... talking to the beer.”

№ 2128

Butterfly Dreams (57)

2011-05-13T21:32:00.000-07:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

An Immortal President

Michelle appeared dazed but it was evident to me that she was lost deep in thought. She was trying to digest one more missing piece of a life she'd never known, of a life she could have never known.

Our minds embraced for the briefest of moments. I sensed an assurance in her thoughts that she understood that it was not the time to dwell on the revelations of the past.

"David ... of course," Michelle whispered. "He's been right there, under our noses all along. He was working for Gates at the New Hampshire facility when he helped us ..."

"...Then he went to work for us," I added. I turned to face Jordan but deliberately addressed the Bishop King persona, "He's been working for you, hasn't he?"

There was a subtle nod of his head in acknowledgement. "I suppose you could think of David as a double agent of sorts. He has been able to slip seamlessly between both operations, ours as well as those of Gates."

"Well, since he now has him as a hostage," barked O'Day, "Gates must realize where David's loyalties lie. Don't forget, David tried to sabotage his operations back at the airfield."

"David is the least of our concerns," Rosie interjected.

"Yes," King grimaced, "there is another whose loyalties will be called into question."

I cast a wary eye in the direction of Faye. Her allegiance to Gates, her step-father, had not been a secret to anyone present. Yet, her activities of late had been puzzling on several occasions. It was possible that she might be playing both ends from the middle. One thing was certain however, Faye had been looking out for her own interests.

She sat unmoving for a few moments staring at her hands which were folded in her lap. Aware that everyone was watching her she shook her head and muttered, "I don't like what he's doing. It's wrong! I'm not going to help him." She then looked up and implored, "You have to believe me!"

Rosie slipped her arm about her shoulders and declared, "Faye, my dear sister, I know that it is not you. No, there is another. There is one who stands to gain much should we fail."

"That person," King announced, "if successful, will insure that Julius Gates will remain in power. In effect, he will become an immortal President!"

To be continued

The Enemy Within

№ 2127

Smashing Rube Goldberg

2011-05-10T11:28:00.000-07:00

I can't say much positive about the group or the music ...

But I LOVE the creative Rube Goldberg machinizations!

№ 2126

Mikey-Leaks

2011-05-03T23:22:00.000-07:00

IMPORTANT NOTICE: All mini-marts, convenience stores, 7-11s, & many motels will be closed this week, due to a death in the family. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause !!!!!!!

The above image is a screen shot that I couldn't make clear. Anyway - it is Osama bin Laden's last Facebook entry:

"BRB. Someone's at the door."
And the "LIKE" was clicked by: the Navy Seals

Who Really Got bin Laden.

How Did They really Find Him?

Multiple Choice
(a) Jehova's Witnesses revealed location when he refused to buy a Bible

(b) Whereabouts reported when he wouldn't pay for Girl Scout cookies

(c) Reported by followers because he refused to bathe (U.S. fixed this.)

(d) Turned in by his landlord because he was arrears in his rent

Boeing Letter to Osama

№ 2125

Editorial Toon Tribute To bin Laden's Demise

2011-05-01T23:38:00.000-07:00

I'll close with a couple of jokes and a funny pic.

Fifty-one years ago, Herman James, a North Carolina mountain man, was drafted by the Army.

On his first day in basic training, the Army issued him a comb. That afternoon the Army barber sheared off all his hair.

On his second day, the Army issued Herman a toothbrush. That afternoon the Army dentist yanked seven of his teeth.

On the third day, the Army issued him a jock strap. The Army has been looking for Herman for 51 years.

*******************************************

Mother Superior called all the nuns together and said to them, "I must tell you all something. We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent."

"Thank God," said an elderly nun at the back. "I'm so tired of Chardonnay."

№ 2124

Butterfly Dreams (56)

2011-04-29T19:40:00.000-07:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

You Can't Choose Your Relations

Through all that had taken place over the past year, Michelle had been strong. At that moment, however, the defensive walls she'd built around her emotions began to crumble. Rosie had struck a raw nerve.

I could empathize with her, having had the same reaction when I'd learned that Jeremy Baxter was my twin brother. Even though the minds of Ben Bering and Susan Parsons had been respectively transferred into the bodies of Michael and Michelle, there had remained trace memories of them within our brains. While the minds of Ben and Susan and their memories dominated us, there were fragmented memories of the real Michael and Michelle within us. Michelle would have to learn to cope, as I had, with a past she'd never known to exist.

The professor waited for his declaration to be absorbed by Michelle before speaking, "Neither Michelle nor her sister Vanessa Manning ever knew of the existence of a sister. They were raised in separate homes, thousands of miles apart."

"Vanessa Manning?" Michelle uttered. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

It was Faye who spoke up with the answer, "The First Lady ... Vanessa Addams! Her maiden name was Manning!"

"What? But she doesn't resemble me ... she doesn't even look like Michelle Gray," Michelle countered trying to maintain her persona as Susan.

"Manning? In Nam, there was a First Lieutenant Manning," Brock O'Day mused, "... Thomas Manning, I think. He was killed in the same incident when Jimmy was wounded when we were trying to get out of the country. Any connection?"

Jordan nodded, "He was Vanessa's and Michelle's father."

"Whoa!" Michelle interjected. "That can't be right. That would put the First Lady and me ... Michelle in our mid-forties. I ... she's only twenty-five!"

When Jordan gnashed his teeth and raised his hands to his temples it was evident that he was evoking the mind of Bishop King. "It would be apropos for me to say that you can't choose your relations. I'm afraid it was my suggestion that several of Gates' officers should make deposits at a certain bank."

Baxter nodded, "That bank of course was a sperm bank!"

"Yes, Jeremy." King acknowledged. "As we all know now, I foresaw even then that since our involvement in Vietnam was not a declared war, there would be future problems for those veterans, living and dead, to receive their proper benefits. Things have improved over the years, but there are still those who are denied not only benefits but recognition for their service to their country. Alas, it is the families of those who fell over there who still suffer from the neglect."

"For all of his insatiable hunger for power," began Stu Jankowski, "Julius Gates did try to look after the welfare of those who served under him. He and Mr. King approached me about covering a story of a widow receiving the sperm of her deceased husband."

"She gave birth to twins, but they were not identical," said King picking up the story and glancing at Michelle. "Financially as a widowed single mother, she didn't think that she could raise both children. It was easy enough to convince her to give the child up for adoption."

Michelle grimaced but was waiting with baited breath for the rest of the story. "So she ended up in the home of a family named Gray ..."

King smiled, "Randall Quigley Gray, or R.Q. as we called him, was the man responsible for virtually all of the programming behind the mind research. He and his assistant ... Jimmy ... " He paused and glanced at Brock O'Day, "... together they developed the neural nano-implants."

"Where is this Mr. Gray? How come we've never heard his name before now?" I asked.

"Yes," Michelle asserted, "where is my ... Michelle's ... step-father?"

"I'm afraid," King swallowed, "that R.Q. is no longer with us. He was a victim of Julius Gates' treachery several years ago. There were other victims too ..."

"He's been eliminating anyone and everyone with knowledge of the mind research," I mused aloud. "Once he's powered up this current program and linked to the satellites ... then all of us here ... are expendable."

Brock O'Day growled, "Then Jimmy's death was not a case of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Jimmy was the target and the ransacking of Ben's apartment was just a cover?"

"It's true that Jimmy was a target, but they were looking for the discs and tapes of the experiments in Ben's apartment too," King responded. He eyed Brock for a moment, "Sergeant O'Day, I know Jimmy was your close friend, but what did you know of his family?"

"Family?" O'Day said quizzically. "As far as I know, his parents were dead. He always said that his army buddies were his only family."

"He lived across the hall from my ... Ben's apartment," I offered. "We spoke often, but he never mentioned having any family."

"Jimmy understood how ruthless Gates was. He met with me and Professor Jordan to express his fears that Gates suspected that he might be playing both ends from the middle. When he heard that R.Q. Gray had died in a mysterious accident, he was worried not only about his own welfare but that of his younger brother."

"Brother?" O'Day barked. "Jimmy had a kid brother? Who ...?"

King didn't answer the question directly but continued with his narrative, "Jimmy agreed to have his mind tapped to have knowledge of his brother to be erased from his mind. Before that was done, he arranged for his brother to be transplanted with memories of another life. The brother then moved in with the Gray family as their adopted son."

Michelle gasped, "Then he would have been Michelle's step-brother?"

"Damn!" I muttered. "When you said we can't pick our relations, you weren't kidding. But you people have had no problem picking our relations for us!"

"Mr. King ... Professor Jordan, whoever you are at the moment," Michelle cried, "who is Jimmy's brother ... Michelle's step brother?"

King looked at me and said, "Michael, I can tell by the gleam in your eye that you know who he is."

I nodded, "Yes. It can only be ... David!"

To be continued ...

An Immortal President

№ 2123

Trump's Trump a Triumph?

2011-04-27T19:47:00.000-07:00

Why now? Why wait so long to produce it?

Is he afraid of Donald trump? Does he honestly think that Trump poses a reelection threat? I seriously hope not.

One thing IS certain. The so-called birthers will not be satisfied. Had this document been produced before he won the Democratic nomination, the question of his birthright would have never become an issue in the first place. Throw in his initial reluctance to wear the American flag pin on his lapel and the numerous times he has shown ill-advised over-the-top respect for the Muslim people, is it any wonder that his patriotism would be called into question?

In his recent address to the press he referred to the matter as silliness. Excuse me, but he brought it on himself by not producing the document when his place of birth was challenged. Is he so arrogant and/or stubborn that he felt he was above it all? "I'm the President, how dare anyone question me?"

Paraphrasing, he also said that he had more important things to do. Then why in the hell isn't he doing those things?

I just had an epiphany! He purposely has been letting the cloud of doubt about his birthright hover over the heads of the American people as a distraction from the fact that his performance thus far as President has been for the most part inept.

Why produce the birth certificate now? It makes sense when you think about it. Time is growing short before it will be time for him to hit the campaign trail for the 2012 elections. By finally producing the certificate, he is hoping its specter will have dissipated by the time the people place their votes.

How Do Editorial Cartoonists See It?

How Does One "Birther" See It?

I had to laughingly admire the effort that someone put into the above copy of the just-released birth certificate.

I'll conclude by reiterating that Obama brought this all on himself. When he fails to be reelected, perhaps he'll sit down at home and wish he was NOT born in the United States!

№ 2122

An Easter Diet

2011-04-24T00:12:00.000-07:00

COLOR IS GOOD

Yesterday I went to the doctor
For my yearly physical.
My blood pressure was high.
My cholesterol was high.
I'd gained some weight,
and I didn't feel so hot.
My doctor said eating right
doesn't have to be complicated and
it would solve my physical problems.
He said:
Just think in colors.
Fill your plate with bright colors.
Try some greens, oranges, reds,
maybe something yellow, etc.
So I went right home
and ate an entire bowl of
bright colors.

And Sure Enough,
I Felt Better Immediately !!
I never knew eating right could be so easy !!

Now stay healthy,
eat your colors,
and have a nice day.
-(Thanks, Cathy)

№ 2121

Tickling the Funny Bone

2011-04-20T11:21:00.000-07:00

Let's Start With a Little Political Incorrectness:
I had just come out of the store with two porterhouse steaks, a jumbo sausage, a bag of chips, and a 6-pack of beer. A homeless man sat there and said, "I haven't eaten for two days."
I told him, "I wish I had your frickin' will power."

Top tip: if you're camping in the summer and the attractive girl in the next tent tells you that because it's so hot she will be sleeping with her flaps open, it's not necessarily an invitation to casual sex. Wish me luck.....I appear in court next Monday.

A fat girl served me food in McDonalds at lunch time. She said, 'sorry about the wait.' I said, 'don't worry, you're bound to lose it eventually.'

I was behind a rather large woman at the checkout. She had on a pair of jeans that said, 'Guess.'
I said, "I don't know........maybe 350 pounds."

Snow in the forecast! The TV weather gal said she was expecting 8 inches tonight, I thought to myself "fat chance with a face like that!"

I have a new pick up line that works every time! It doesn't matter how gorgeous or out of my league a woman might be, this line is a winner and always end up in bed with them. Here's how it goes, "Excuse me love, could I ask your opinion? Does this damp cloth smell like chloroform to you?"

Years ago it was suggested 'that an apple a day kept the doctor away.' But since many doctors are now Muslim, I've found that a bacon sandwich works best.

I took my Biology exam last Friday. I was asked to name two things commonly found in cells. Apparently Blacks and Mexicans were not the correct answers.

A lady about 8 months pregnant got on a bus. She noticed the man opposite her was smiling at her. She immediately moved to another seat. This time the smile turned into a grin, so she moved again.The man seemed more amused.When on the fourth move, the man burst out laughing, she complained to the driver and he had the man arrested.

The case came up in court.

The judge asked the man (about 20 years old) what he had to say for himself.

The man replied, "Well your Honor, it was like this,when the lady got on the bus, I couldn't help but notice her condition.

She sat down under a sign that said, 'The Double Mint Twins are coming' and I grinned.

Then she moved and sat under a sign that said, 'Logan's Liniment will reduce the swelling,' and I had to smile.

Then she placed herself under a deodorant sign that said, 'William's Big Stick Did the Trick,' and I could hardly contain myself.

But, Your Honor, when she moved the fourth time and sat under a sign that said, 'Goodyear Rubber could have prevented this Accident!'

... I just lost it.'"

'CASE DISMISSED!!'

In a small town in Texas, the local madam operated a telephone service. The police finally arrested her and seized her big black book in which her talent was listed. Each officer on the force was assigned a group of the names in it and told to check them out. After a week, the Chief called a meeting to get their reports.

When it became the turn of Constable Ralph to tell what he had found, he said, "I'm sorry, Chief, but I think I should disqualify myself. One of the ladies on whom I called is an eighty-four-year-old woman. She is so charming that I have to tell you that I have fallen in love with her."

"Holy Moley!" exclaimed the Chief. "I'm sure surprised at you, Ralph. You've been a policeman almost all your life -- and here you are, falling for the oldest trick in the book!"

DEAR MADAM:

THANK YOU FOR YOUR RECENT ORDER FROM OUR SEX TOYS SHOP.

YOU ASKED FOR THE LARGE RED VIBRATOR AS FEATURED ON OUR WALL DISPLAY.

PLEASE SELECT ANOTHER ITEM BECAUSE THAT IS OUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER.

WELL, SHIT!

№ 2120

Cletis Clyde's Oskars

2011-04-17T16:55:00.001-07:00

This here is a Tongue-In-Cheek Production.

And iffin y'all doesn't knows what tongue-in-cheek means, then y'all deserves a tongue lashing! And iffin ya really wants to knows, go look it up. You know, gurgle it.

Ya know what really gets my goat? Well, jest 'bout anything gets my goat what ain't right as fer as I can see. But this here post is all 'bout what's a-gettin' my goat this very minute. And my goat started to gettin' got when I wuz a sittin' in my Lazy Boy recliner a lookin' thru my collection of video pickture shows.

Now, I ain't braggin' but I has one of the biggest collections in the whole holler exceptin' maybe fer my cuzzin Clem. He jest has 'em lyin' all over the place and not in any kind of order a'tall. Me, I keeps 'em organized so's I can find 'em real easy like when I wants to see a p'ticular one.

I likes to keep 'em 'ranged by what what kind of pickture and what's in 'em. Some of my favorites I keeps close to my chair a locked up in my tool box. They's the ones wiffin' a lot of T&A. And no, I'm not a vegetablarian - I don't have movies 'bout Taters and Asparagus!

Anyways, back to what it was what got my goat. I think I'm a purty good judge of what a good movie is. Hell, I aint no conasewer ... Ya know, that's one dumb word. It sounds like a 'scaped pris'ner what tried to hide inna septic tank. But I'm a digrestin' ...

Like I was a gettin' at, I got me a whole bunch of good watchin' movies. And ya know what? Not a single nary one of 'em ever won one of them Academic Awards. In fact, I don't think they was even dominated fer an Oskar.

I think all them Hollywood types a been usin' that stuff like cocaine and Rogaine, exceptin' theys a been puttin' the one fer the head up theys noses and the udder way 'round. And fer the record, I bet theys can't figger out which orfices they's s'posed to put chapstick and Preparation H either.

So anyways, this is leadin' up to what's gonna be makin' my goat feel better. I done decided to pick out some movies and give out my Oskar prizes. Now don't y'all be laffin' at my s'lections, coz I'm serious. These are Oskars that them Hollywood types should a been givin' out.

Best S'portin' Actress
Pia Zadora as Grimar in the 1964 cult classic, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians. Eight-year-old Zadora (right in picture) gives an out-of-this-world performance as a young Martian girl.

Best Voice Characterization
Dom DeLuise as the voice of Pizza the Hutt from the epic 1987 space adventure, Spaceballs.

Best Actress
Allison Hayes as Nancy Archer from the 1958 hit, Attack of the 50-Foot Woman. This film demonstrates the old saying 'that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' So if you're planning on cheating on your wife, check the skies first to make sure there ain't no giant red balls a floatin' around. (I still wonder why it was that some of her clothes grew wiff her.)

Best Actor
James Arness as the Thing from the classic 1951 Science fiction thriller, The Thing from Another World. When an actor who plays a Marshall of Dodge City who can't seem to recognize the fact that Miss Kitty wants him to bed her, can take on a role as a blood craving celery stalk which terrorizes an arctic military base - now that's some powerful actin', folks. Not to take anything from John Carpenter's remake, but his Thing was all done by special effects.

Best Makeup
The 2000 Sci-Fi megahit, Battlefield Earth had fatastic makeup. I was really convinced that John Travolta as Terl and Forest Whittaker as Ker were really aliens from the planet Psychlos.

Best Adaptation of a Comic Book
How do you bring a comic book character to life? If you put a little person, Ed Gale, in a duck suit and voice it by Chip Zien, you get Howard the Duck. Give him a cigar, a taste for beer, a sexy human girl friend, and deadly monsters bent on the destruction of earth - it's the perfect formula for a hit movie. I was 'specially impressed when the feathers on his head stood up when he was in that erotic bed scene!

Best Director
Ed Wood, Jr. for the 1959 classic, Plan 9 from Outer Space. The plot of the film is focused on extraterrestrial beings who are seeking to stop humans from creating a doomsday weapon that would destroy the universe. In the course of doing so, the aliens implement "Plan 9", a scheme to resurrect Earth's dead to get the planet's attention, causing chaos.

Best Picture
When Jaws was released, people was afraid to go back in the water. When Attack of the Killer Tomatoes came out in 1978, I was afraid to go back into the garden!

After the tomatoes have killed a lot of people, they tomatoes are cornered in a stadium. "Puberty Love" is played over the loudspeaker, causing the tomatoes to shrink and allowing the various people at the stadium to squash them by stomping on them repeatedly. Fairchild, meanwhile, is cornered by a giant tomato wearing earmuffs. Dixon saves her by showing the tomato the sheet music to "Puberty Love." He professes his love to her, in song.

I love the ending- when a carrot rises from the Earth and says "All right, you guys. They're gone now."

Well folks, there y'all have it. Iffin I was to have a say so of what Oskar Awards should be given out, these would be some of my picks. Yer lists might not agree with mine, but who cares? This is my list. Go make yer own list!

№ 2119

Butterfly Dreams (55)

2011-04-15T18:29:00.000-07:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

A Deadly Digital Dilemma

Michelle's eyes darted from Rosie, to Professor Jordan, to Jeremy Baxter and back to Rosie again. When no explanation was tendered she gulped and asked, "What do mean it's time for your dreams to end?"

"My dreams, your dreams," she waved her arm to encompass everyone present, "our butterfly dreams must come to end. The entire network and all the records must be shut down ... destroyed once and for all."

"But, Rosie," I muttered, "you said you were irreversibly linked with the program. What happens to you?"

Her stoic remark was chilling, "I will die."

Professor Jordan stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders and spoke with the same fatalistic tone, "...As will I, along with Bishop King." He saw the question forming on their faces and addressed the matter, "Yes, Julius Gates will suffer the same fate."

"What about President Addams? Will he die also?" asked Baxter.

Jordan cleared his throat, "I don't think anyone present wants responsibility of the death of our President on their conscience. You can belay your fears, we don't have to worry about that. Addams will survive and except for some lost memories, he'll be none the worse for wear."

"That's all well and good, Professor," I said, "but how is that he will survive and not Gates? For that matter, why must you and Rosie die?"

"I'm afraid you can blame ... or thank Gates himself for that. You see, it all comes down to all of those neural implants. There are literally hundreds of those devices out there, all of them located at the bases of the skulls of unsuspecting puppets waiting for a programmed command to send them on some mission of Gates' bidding."

O'Day shivered, "We saw first hand at the nursing home what those things can do to someone. It's not a pretty sight when one of those things is detonated."

"I don't understand," Michelle said, "what about the implants? What do they have to do with who survives?"

"As nefarious as those things are," Jordan began, "the implants will actually protect those who have them. In addition to President Addams, everyone one of you in this room have them ... everyone but myself and ... Rosie."

"Perhaps," Rosie chimed in, "since I am attuned to the programs, I can explain it in simpler terms. When I ... when we shut down the entire network, there will be a signal surge throughout Gates' system. The implants will receive two instantaneous commands, one to completely erase the memories of every facet of the mind research and another for them to become inert. Professor Jordan and myself are in agreement that it is very likely the surge will also cause some minor irritation which will in turn trigger the immune system to release leukocytes to the infected area."

I began to feel a familiar twinge in the center of my forehead and a quick glance to Michelle confirmed she was feeling the same sensation. Rosie was looking at us and winked.

"Michelle and Michael, only the two of you will receive my thoughts. With young David's help there will also be a subroutine that will be sent only to your implants. Once the system and all of the programs are shut down, we will need to have someone with their memories intact. A well known quote comes to mind, 'Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.' We cannot be blind to the possibility, no matter how remote, that Gates may have had backups to all of his programs."

"Mother," Michelle minded, "is there no other way? There must be a way to save you."

"No, I will die either way. Even now I'm becoming more and more the program and less and less Rosie Gates. My physical body is failing ... without my human brain to control my bodily functions I will expire soon enough. It is a deadly digital dilemma, but one I am prepared for ... it will be my legacy."

In an abrupt tilt of her head she announced vocally, "The time is near. Gates is on his way. He has commandeered a jeep and is holding David hostage. He is planning on using him as a bargaining chip."

"He's alone?" queried Baxter. "Wingate, the FBI agents and his secret service attachment aren't with him?"

"As you predicted, Mr. Baxter," she replied, "he's acting on his one glaring weakness. The arrogance of his ego and the threat to his authority is driving him."

"I'm sensing a showdown," I opined. "Just how is Gates' presence going to help with shutting down everything? Surely you don't think he'll just stand by and allow that to happen."

"That's the tricky part, Michael," Jordan responded. "We have to convince him that in order to save his program and to salvage his plans he will have to link directly with network. Of course, he has to think that his actions are his own."

I motioned my head to where Ben and Susan were quietly seated, almost oblivious to the proceedings. "What of them? What's to happen to them? It seems to me that they've been nothing more than pawns in the whole thing."

"Ah," Jordan winked, "our two friends here have been as perplexing to Gates as well as to you and Michelle. Of course, by now I think it is abundantly clear to all present that they are not Ben Bering and Susan Parsons."

The conversation in the hidden laboratory at the university that Michelle and I had had with Bishop King's interactive holographic image came to mind. "Persephone!" I espoused. I swallowed hard and tried to separate my psyche from the body of Michael black. "Then they really are the twins ... of Ben and Susan."

"Yes," he nodded. He glanced at them with sad eyes and continued, "They've been living a rather unremarkable but comfortable life in a small Midwestern town. I'm afraid it was I who disrupted their lives and brought them into the center of this whole mess."

"Ahem, you can't take the entire blame, Professor ... Bishop," interjected Stu. He made eye contact with Michelle and I and elaborated, "Michael ... Ben ... damn it's so confusing even for me. Your brother, Ben's brother ... is Jonathan Jankowski ... my nephew."

"Nephew?" I stuttered. "Are you trying to tell me ... that would make you ... my uncle?"

"My sister died forty-six years ago giving birth to Jonathan and ... to Thomas. My wife, God rest her soul, and I took them in as their legal guardians. We tried to raise them ..."

"Wait a minute," Susan yelped. She lowered her head in an apologetic gesture for the interruption and said, "Please, can't you fill Michael in later? What about me? What's the story with me and my twin?"

Jordan moved toward her and frowned, "I'm afraid that the lives of you and your twin sister are a little more complicated. Under the circumstances that story is also a very delicate matter."

"What? All of my life has been a lie! You know the truth and you're not going to tell me!" she pleaded.

The professor attempted to place his hands on her shoulders but she moved away. "Michelle, I will reveal the truth ... in time." He spread his open palms before her and with his voice barely perceptible whispered, "You see, there is the matter of another set of twins."

"Professor Jordan, don't patronize me. We know all about Michael's twin brother Jeremy. What does that have to do with me?"

"Michelle," he said, "and I'm deliberately speaking to you as Michelle ... I'm referring to the twin sister of Michelle Gray!"

( To be continued

You Can't Choose Your Relations)

№ 2118

Butterfly Dreams (54)

2011-04-06T12:32:00.000-07:00

The(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

They had died when helping thwart a plan to undermine the government of the United States. Now Ben and Susan have returned from the dead and they must bring that government down. Standing in their way are Michael Black and Michelle Gray, the bodies of whom they now occupy.
-(The Story begins HERE)-
End of Dreams

Both Brock and I were left speechless. Having seen Rosie on the surveillance video from the nursing home awakened from her year-long coma was one thing, but to see her in the flesh was quite another.

Her acknowledgement of us was nothing more than a curt nod of her head. She stepped aside and motioned for us to pass through the entrance into the room that lie beyond. Jeremy and Stu, assisting the wounded Professor Jordan led the way, followed by Brock and myself. Faye appeared lost in deep thought and hesitated before stepping forth behind me and her husband. Showing neither recognition of us nor emotion Rosie fell in stride between Ben and Susan as the door closed behind us.

We came into a lighted area, a makeshift living quarters consisting of a pair of sofas and several armchairs around a central conference table. Next to a six-foot high wall which partitioned the quarters from a larger room to the left was a pair of doors leading to bed and bath facilities.

Stu positioned a pillow behind Jordan's head even as Baxter helped him into a lying position on the nearest sofa. Despite his injury Jordan growled with feisty bravado, "Stop making such a fuss over me. I'll live! There is much to do ..."

At that moment a side door swung open to reveal Michelle carrying a bag of supplies to treat Jordan's injury. At her back I caught a glimpse of the lower most steps of the steep stairway she'd descended to join us in the underground hideaway.

Giving way to Michelle as she joined Baxter to attend to the professor, Stu moved over to where Brock O'Day and I were standing. He was apologetic as he addressed me, "Michael, the other day at the bar ... I ..."

"Never mind, Stu," I said patting his shoulder, "forget it. I know now that it was part of a plan which required Michelle and me to be kept in the dark. Clever." I looked about the room at the gathered faces and added, "I'll have to admit that even now I'm not sure who to trust and who not to trust."

"That's understandable. You see, it was also important that Gates didn't suspect that his inner circle had been compromised. Of course, in light of recent events, we've lost that advantage and that's going to make our job more difficult."

Raising my eyebrows I asked, "...And just what is our job? Exposing him and his treachery would mean that the existence of our research would have to be made public. I don't think that is at all wise."

From across the room Jordan shouted, "Damn straight it's not wise!" He sat up and moved his arm to test the dressing Michelle had applied to his wound. He looked up at her and smiled, "It feels good. Thank you."

Michelle returned his smile and faced me with her hands on her hips, "Michael, get over here and let me see what I can do for that broken finger."

The professor patted my arm as we passed and said, "Don't worry, she's a good nurse." He raised his voice to make sure he had everyone's attention, "Why don't the rest of us gather around the conference table and we'll discuss what needs to be done."

Rosie offered her outstretched arms to Faye, "Come, sit next me." When Faye hesitated she pleaded, "Please, Faye. Won't you sit beside your sister?"

The professor stood at the end of the table and studied those seated before speaking, "As most of you know there are two minds in my head. I'm speaking to you now not as Professor Jordan, but as Bishop King." He paused to observe the reactions of those seated before him. "I am in the unique position to know Julius Gate's weakness."

"Weakness?" queried Stu Jankowski.

"Ah, let me explain that," he responded. "It's hard to elaborate, but I'll attempt to do so. I ... we ... the professor and myself, might co-exist in this body in a symbiotic manner, but only one of us may be present at any given moment. We are aware of the other and we can communicate with the other. The mind that is at the forefront is there because the other has conceded. Yet, either one of us can assert ourselves over the other."

My finger in a plastic splint and my hand wrapped in gauze and tape Michelle and I took a seat between Brock and Jeremy. I looked at him and said, "I take it that for now the two of you are in agreement as to what we need to do to carry out your plans?"

He smiled, "Quite. We are very much in agreement."

"You said you knew Gates' weakness?" Michelle asked.

He nodded, "Where the two minds in this brain have been compatible, such is not the case with the brain in the body of President Addams. You've witnessed it yourself. Gates is clearly the dominant mind and for the most part has been keeping the Addams' persona suppressed. Our President is a virtual prisoner in his own body."

"All we had to do was to rattle his cage," Baxter cut in, "and to challenge his authority. Sure enough, the general in him reacted ignoring protocol. No general can tolerate a threat to his authority. Gates is no exception. Throw in a threat to his Presidency ..."

"So," I uttered glancing at Ben and Susan, "you produced our two friends here and arranged for Rosie to be kidnapped from the nursing home. Okay, I can see how he would perceive that as a threat and how it would force him to take action, but ..."

"May I, Professor Jordan?" Rosie stood up and looked over to Jordan. He extended an open hand for her to continue.

"I'm sure you've noticed that I am not quite myself," she began, "and that's true. I'm heavily sedated to keep my mind functioning. I might never really be my old self again." She saw the concern on several of our faces and waved her hand, "I'm okay with that, so please don't shower me with pity."

"...And your awakening from the coma was drug induced?" Faye asked.

"Not exactly," interjected Jordan, "unless you consider software a drug!" Not waiting for the expected shocked responses he quickly continued, "As Rosie lapsed into a coma a year ago, so too was she awakened by means of a software program."

When our collective eyes turned back to Rosie she spoke again, "Not in the manner in which both Professor Jordan and Bishop King are standing before you in the same body, but I too exist in a state of duality."

Brock O'Day whistled softly, "Wait a minute. First we learn that Gates and President Addams are in the same head. Then the professor tells us that he and King are renting the same skull, and now you're going to tell us that someone else is sharing your brain too?"

I placed my good hand on his shoulder and announced, "My friend, I don't think she's referring to ... a someone."

"You are correct, Michael," Rosie said, her demeanor remaining stoic. "Ever since the destruction of the facilities in New Hampshire I have been intrinsically and irreversibly integrated with and into General Gates' master program. There was a massive power surge into his control module while I was linked to the system and as a result, it is part of me and I am part of it."

"Rosie, I'm so sorry that such a horrible thing happened to you," I muttered. "Maybe it is possible to ... separate you from the program ... or the program from you?"

"No, I'm afraid that's not possible." She noted without visible reaction to the glum faces of us gathered around the table. For a moment she gazed at Michelle and her act of wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye before addressing her directly, "Because of the merger of my mind and the program, I am incapable of experiencing emotion but I do have a memory and I do know that you, Susan Parsons, are my daughter."

Michelle laid her head against my shoulder and began to weep. "Oh, mother," she blubbered, "if only we'd had ... more time ... to get to know each other!"

"Perhaps you can take comfort in knowing that when I am in a comatose state, I am actually sleeping and while asleep I do experience dreams," she said, "and in those dreams we are close ... and we talk. I'm looking forward to our final talk out there in the night and naked together we'll watch the butterflies fly away."

Michelle bolted upright and gasped, "My dream! You know of my dream?" She looked into Rosie's eyes as if looking into her soul, "You've been sending that dream to me ... in my dreams!"

She moved away from the table and nodded to Professor Jordan, "I sense that the time is near." She looked back at Michelle and whispered, "For me, it will soon be time for the end of dreams."

( To be continued

A Deadly Digital Dilemma )

№ 2117

Sax and Violins

2011-04-04T13:52:00.000-07:00

Is there too much sax on this blog?

Is there too much violins on this blog?

№ 2116

Nevermore

2011-04-01T18:17:00.000-07:00

I looked upon the back-lit screen, the space where the dance of my fingers upon the keyboard should be magically transforming my ideas into thought-provoking words upon its surface; yet, the blank screen looked back, defiant and unyielding of such words.

Outside it was indeed dreary, the April Fool's Day's Nor'easter snow having given way to several hours of miserable rain. Had I not heard it, and had I not looked out the windows to observe it, I would've known nonetheless that it was so by no other perception than the protestations of discomfort in my joints.

I have experienced writer's block before on many occasions, and have found that if I just think of a book or any piece of literature that I've read in the past, sometimes an idea, even an offbeat idea might be evoked. In the end, the idea might be discarded, but at least it seems to light a spark in the dark recesses of my mind.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore ...

Curious? I'll say. It would appear that I channeled The Raven that morbid poem of mourning for a departed loved one by Edgar Allan Poe. It would seem that my use of the word "dreary" above brought the first two lines of that poem to the forefront of my thoughts. Rather than delete the two lines I decided instead to leave them there and to strike them.

Then the dog, apparently ready to retire for the night, chose that moment to pay me a visit for its nightly and obligatory goodnight pat on the head. Having received the gratuitous stroke upon its forehead, it turned to leave, but before doing so looked back, wagged its tail and offered up a couple of subtle yaps.

Curious? I'll say. Perhaps because of the two plagiarized lines from Poe, or most unlikely, the sound and the manner in which it spoke, I heard, thought I heard, "Nevermore."

I think that probably before the dog had even settled onto its padded pillow next to the bed and my sleeping wife, that my mind was already at work and the gears of thought had been engaged. Before I knew it, almost subconsciously, my fingers began to traverse the keyboard, the eventual product of their trek not clear until I actually brought my eyes to bear upon the screen.

Not only had I taken the liberty to plagiarize Mr. Poe, but I had undertaken an audacious attempt to parody the first verse of his poem.

Once upon an evening dreary, with my eyes weak and bleary,
From reading the curious typed words upon my neglected blog,
While I yawned, mind tweaking, suddenly there came a squeaking,
As of something unlatching, scratching at my computer room door.
'Tis the dog,' I muttered, 'scratching at my computer room door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Perhaps, the next time when my mind comes up blank and I find myself in the throes of writer's block, I will think of some other writer. As for Poe, nevermore.

№ 2115

Misc. E-mail Call

2011-03-31T16:29:00.001-07:00

A guy goes to the Post Office to apply for a job.

The interviewer asks him, "Are you allergic to anything?"

He replies, "Yes, caffeine. I can't drink coffee."

"Ok, Have you ever been in the military service?"

"Yes," he says, "I was in Iraq for one tour."

The interviewer says, "That will give you 5 extra points toward employment." Then he asks, "Are you disabled in any way?"

The guy says, "Yes. A bomb exploded near me and I lost both my testicles."

The interviewer grimaces and then says, "Okay. You've got enough points for me to hire you right now. Our normal hours are from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm. You can start tomorrow at 10:00 am, and plan on starting at 10:00 am every day."

The guy is puzzled and asks, "If the work hours are from 8:00 am to 4:00 PM, why don't you want me here until 10:00 am?"

"This is a government job", the interviewer says. "For the first two hours, we just stand around drinking coffee and scratching our balls. No point in you coming in for that."

A man on his Harley was riding along a California beach when suddenly the sky clouded above his head and in a booming voice God said, "Because you have tried to be faithful to me in all ways, I will grant you one wish."

The biker pulled over and said, "Build a bridge to Hawaii so I can ride over any time I want."

God replied, "Your request is materialistic, think of the enormous challenges for that kind of undertaking, think of the steel it would take. I can do this but it is hard for me to justify your desire for worldly things. Take a minute and think of something that could possibly help man kind."

The biker thought, finally he said, "God I wish all men could understand women, how she feels, what shes thinking, why she cries, what she means when she says something is wrong, why she snaps and how to make her truly happy."

God replied, "You want two lanes or four on that bridge?"

A Movie Review

Horse Racing Today
The lineup:

1. Passionate Lady 2. Bare Belly 3. Silk Panties 4. Conscience 5. Jockey Shorts 6. Clean Sheets 7. Smooth Thighs 8. Big Johnson 9. Heavy Bosom 10. Merry Cherry

And they're off!

Conscience is left behind at the post.

Jockey Shorts and Silk Panties are off in a hurry!

Heavy Bosom is being pressured.

Passionate Lady is caught between Smooth Thighs and Big Johnson in a very tight spot.

At the halfway mark it's Bare Belly on top!

Smooth Thighs open up and Big Johnson is pressed in.

Heavy Bosom is being pushed hard against Clean Sheets.

Passionate Lady and Smooth Thighs are working hard on Bare Belly!

Bare Belly is under terrific pressure from Big Johnson!

At the stretch Merry Cherry cracks under the strain.

Big Johnson is making a final drive.

Passionate Lady is coming!

At the finish it's Big Johnson giving everything he's got and Passionate Lady taking everything Big Johnson has to offer!

It looks like a dead heat but Big Johnson squirts through and wins by a head!

Heavy Bosom weakens and Smooth Thighs pulls-up the rear.

Clean Sheets never had a chance.

№ 2114

He Said, She Said

2011-03-29T16:08:00.001-07:00

Men and Women See Things Differently

Opposites attract - that's what makes the world go around!

You just have to hope that there is some compatibility between the two to make it all work.

It's true, whether you're talking about the geophysical forces of gravity and planetary orbits or the more complicated relationships between men and women.

Yes, understanding the workings of the universe has proven to be less elusive than trying to figure out the age-old battle of the sexes and putting into perspective of who is right and who is wrong. Whether from Mars or Venus, it all comes down to who said what ...

He Said, She Said: Out of Options
HE: Hey, hows about a little action, honey?

SHE: Not tonight. It's that time of the month. Sorry.

HE: That's okay? Then how about a little blow j....?

SHE: Oh, no! My wisdom tooth is acting up.

HE: Well, then I'll just put it up your ...

SHE: Nope! ... Hemorrhoids.

HE: (Sigh!) Hows about reaching over here and taking me in your hand ...

SHE: Uh-uh ... Carpal tunnel ...

HE: Fine! I'll just put it between tour ti ...

SHE: I don't think so ... sunburn!

HE: It seems like I'm out of options.

SHE: Not really ... you can take care of it yourself ...

HE: (Rolling over.) Nah! I seem to have lost the urge.

( Poor guy. She didn't even use the 'headache' routine. )

What Is Stress?
Driving along you see a beautiful and naked woman hitchhiking. You stop and pick her up. Trying to keep your eyes on the road causes you some stress.

What if someone you know witnesses this and tells your wife? You've started to become a little stressed.

Suddenly she has a seizure and faints in your car - in the front seat - and slumps against you! You are more than a little stressed.

You are unable to revive her and are forced to rush her to the nearest hospital. With your jacket covering only a little of her nudity you remember that you know people on the hospital staff. Now it's getting stressful!

The doctor tells you that she is pregnant and congratulates you that you're going to be a father. You tell him that you're NOT the father, but the girl insists that you are! It has become very stressful!

So you insist on submitting to a DNA test to prove that you're not the father. After the test results comeback the doctor informs you are NOT the father. The stress is abating.

Although it doesn't register at the moment, the doctor also tells you that you are infertile and probably have been since birth.

As you drive away from the hospital you think about the doctor's words as they sink in ... and you start to become extremely stressed.

You are thinking about your wife ... and your ... three kids ...

Now THAT'S stress!

My wife says I never listen to her. At least that's what I think she said.

A man is browsing around in a bookstore for half an hour or more not finding what he wanted. Finally he went to a clerk at the customer service desk.

"Excuse me," he says to her, "I'm looking for a book called 'The perfect marriage.'"

Says the clerk, "Have you looked in the Science Fiction section?"

№ 2113

Butterfly Dreams (53)

2011-03-25T17:28:00.000-07:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

The Butterfly Net

Michelle raced up to me, and throwing her arms around my neck pressed her lips hungrily against mine. Ignoring the pain of my broken finger I dug my hands deep into the back pockets of her jeans. It might have been only two days since we'd last held each other, but to me it had seemed like weeks. It was not surprising that our passionate embrace would not go unnoticed.

"Get a room, you two!" Brock chuckled as he herded Faye past us.

The distant wail of sirens signaled the advancing parade of emergency equipment racing from the nearby civilian side of the airport. Without a word we began to pile into the vehicle, an over-sized delivery van. To a person, we did not want to be there to answer any questions or to explain our presence there.

Michelle grinned at Baxter as he ducked his head into the van. "Use enough dynamite there, Baxter?" she asked parodying a well known movie quote. Her smile, however, quickly faded, "Where's David? He made it off the plane ... didn't he?"

Baxter shook his head and replied, "I don't know. When I went through the door he was at the console. He must have been trying to grab the original connector."

"Did anyone else get off the plane?" queried Stu Jankowski who was sitting behind the steering wheel.

"If they did, they probably went in there," I offered pointing across the debris-riddled tarmac at the building which was completely engulfed in flames.

There was a sudden flash of pulverized runway followed by the whistling of a ricocheting bullet which slammed into the side of the van. In a trice the sound of the gun shot caught up with the projectile as it echoed across the airfield.

I shoved Michelle into the van and dove in after her even as Stu shifted into gear and slammed the accelerator to the floor. I heard the sound of a second shot but it must have missed hitting the van. I just managed to close the sliding side door when shards of glass showered onto me when its window shattered into the back of the van.

The spinning rear wheels of the van spat up gravel amid a cloud of dust before they gained traction. The vehicle lurched forward and picked up speed when it reached the paved surface of the road.

We barely had time to feel good about our escape when Susan shrieked, "Professor Jordan! You've been shot!"

Jordan, slumped on the floor behind the driver's seat, was clutching a blood soaked wound near his shoulder. He winced and gritted his teeth, "It hurts but ... I'm okay. I don't think it hit anything ... vital."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Brock O'Day as he grabbed a cargo blanket and spread it on the floor. "Lie down, Professor and let me take a look at it."

Susan helping with his legs, Brock placed his hand around the man's back and eased him into a supine position onto the blanket. Easing his arm free he grunted when he saw that the palm of his supporting hand was covered in blood. "Well, at least there's good news," he uttered, "the bullet passed completely through."

"That's hardly encouraging, Sergeant," Jordan grimaced, "knowing that I have an extra ... hole in my body."

"Yes. There is the matter of these entry and exits wounds," O'Day responded, "and they need to be treated."

"On the strip there's a small convenience store." Michelle offered. "We can pick up some bandages and antiseptic there."

She looked at me as if anticipation what I might say but I queried anyway. "Strip? Route 66?"

She nodded, "Yes. There's a motel and a diner too ... just like the ones in my dream." She shrugged and added, "Coincidence?"

"No, my dear," said Jordan, "it's not a coincidence. Your dream is not a dream, but a subconscious memory that I resurrected in your mind." He looked over at Susan and appeared to be taking great care in how he phrased his next words, "It was something that happened to you when you were not ... ah, yourself. I hope that makes sense."

When she nodded I could see that Michelle understood, as I had, the implications of Jordan's words. He was referring to a buried and forgotten memory of something that had occurred when she was the embodiment of ... Susan Parsons. As one we studied Susan who was watching us and listening but not understanding. Jordan was wise to avoid the suggestion of transplanted minds. As confusing as it was to Michelle and me, to that poor girl it would be not be healthy for her to discover that she was somebody else.

I hadn't even noticed that were passing by a few scattered buildings until Stu turned the van into a narrow alley between ... the diner and a motel. He brought the vehicle to a stop in front a brick facade and said over his shoulder, "Michelle, can you hop out and run to the convenience store for what you need to fix up the professor?"

Hopping out of the van she announced, "I'll catch up to you through the basement entrance in the diner." With that she turned and jogged away toward the street.

Before I could protest her going off alone there was a loud grinding sound. I looked through the windshield and watched the base of the wall begin to tilt inward. It soon became obvious that the wall was actually a secreted entry to a ramp that sloped down and under the building. With the wall fully raised Stu eased the van through the portal which began to close the moment we'd cleared the alley.

After about a hundred yards the ramp leveled off into a cavernous garage. The van pulled up to a large metal door and came to a stop. "Last stop, gang," Stu voiced.

Upon the door there was a painting of large blue butterfly and beneath that were stenciled letters reading The Butterfly Net. Stu pressed a button on the dashboard of the van and climbed out onto the pavement. Within a couple of minutes the lot of us had joined him and were standing in front of the door.

When the door swung open we were greeted by two figures, a man and a woman. Unable to contain her excitement, Susan ran up to Ben and hugged him. I stood still aghast as the woman stepped through the door to greet us.

Through trembling lips I muttered, "Rosie?"

To be continued ...

The End of Dreams

№ 2112

Pic Pickups

2011-03-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

For this post I just picked up a few pics.

Click to Enlarge

There Really Is Gold at the End of a Rainbow

№ 2111

Google "It"

2011-03-23T00:08:00.000-07:00

Why Not?
I knew I didn't have to climb to the tip of some precipitous mountain top to have some so-called wise man to tell me to "Google it."

Besides, I must call to question just how "wise" someone might be to sit on top of a mountain.

Yet, it seemed like a ludicrous idea for me to Google something I already knew and didn't really need to actually look up. I mean, how much can I learn from a web search about "IT" that I don't already know?

Frankly, there hasn't exactly been a plethora of ideas popping into my head as of late to be used as subject matter for a post. Perhaps retirement and a more leisurely lifestyle has turned the creative juices into a viscous syrup. I suppose that with all the free time on my hands that maybe ... I've lost it.

To be perfectly honest, I have also been ~~distracted~~ involved with my writings. I've been aspiring to put together a collection of my short stories and to then submit them for publication as an anthology.

Ah, but word count = pages! Some of my stories are lengthy and probably exceed in the number of words what many would consider "short" stories. It would probably be more correct to call them novellas.

As such, I have decided that two of those stories, the currently serialized Butterfly Dreams and its prequel, The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray will be combined into one novel.

A funny thing keeps happening on the way to the computer - I keep getting ideas, not for blog posts, but for MORE story ideas! I've been jotting them down lest I forget them and they are gone forever. So, I've been drafting up a few synopses of these ideas, even giving them working titles like: Eco-Nauts, The God Stone, La Boutique Barbie, Blood Blog, etc., to name a few.

I suspect that once I get into the publishing process and start putting some of those story ideas together, my actual blog entries will continue to decrease even more than as of late.

But I digress ... Wasn't I going to GʘʘGLE "it" ?

I'll take a guess and say that the following, not necessarily in the same order, will appear when I google "it."

it - a pronoun, a specific object or thing

It - A novel by Stephen King and a made-for-TV movie of the same name

It. - abbreviation of Italy a Mediterranean country

It. - abbreviation for Italian, the people of Italy, also for the cuisine of that country

it - abbreviation for italics, a type of script or font

What Google Gave
IT - Information technology (IT) is the acquisition, processing, storage and dissemination of vocal, pictorial, textual and numerical information by a microelectronics-based combination of computing and telecommunications.

it - pronoun, nominative it, possessive its or ( Obsolete or Dialect ) it, objective it; plural nominative they, possessive their or theirs, objective them; noun

1.
(used to represent an inanimate thing understood, previously mentioned, about to be mentioned, or present in the immediate context): It has whitewall tires and red upholstery. you can't tell a book by its cover.
2.
(used to represent a person or animal understood, previously mentioned, or about to be mentioned whose gender is unknown or disregarded): It was the largest ever caught off the Florida coast. who was it? It was John. The horse had its saddle on.
3.
(used to represent a group understood or previously mentioned): The judge told the jury it must decide two issues.
4.
(used to represent a concept or abstract idea understood or previously stated): It all started with Adam and Eve. He has been taught to believe it all his life.
5.
(used to represent an action or activity understood, previously mentioned, or about to be mentioned): Since you don't like it, you don't have to go skiing.
6.
(used as the impersonal subject of the verb to be, especially to refer to time, distance, or the weather): It is six o'clock. It is five miles to town. It was foggy.
7.
(used in statements expressing an action, condition, fact, circumstance, or situation without reference to an agent): If it weren't for Edna, I wouldn't go.
8.
(used in referring to something as the origin or cause of pain, pleasure, etc.): Where does it hurt? It looks bad for the candidate.
9.
(used in referring to a source not specifically named or described): It is said that love is blind.
10.
(used in referring to the general state of affairs; circumstances, fate, or life in general): How's it going with you?
11.
(used as an anticipatory subject or object to make a sentence more eloquent or suspenseful or to shift emphasis): It is necessary that you do your duty. It was a gun that he was carrying.
12.
Informal . (used instead of the pronoun its before a gerund): It having rained for only one hour didn't help the crops.
–noun
13.
(in children's games) the player called upon to perform some task, as, in tag, the one who must catch the other players.
14.
Slang .
a.
sex appeal.
b.
sexual intercourse.
—Idioms
15.
get with it, Slang . to become active or interested: He was warned to get with it or resign.
16.
have it, Informal .
a.
to love someone: She really has it bad for him.
b.
to possess the requisite abilities for something; be talented, adept, or proficient: In this business you either have it or you don't.
17.
with it, Slang .
a.
aware of the latest fads, fashions, etc.; up-to-date.
b.
attentive or alert: I'm just not with it early in the morning.
c.
understanding or appreciative of something, as jazz.
d.
Carnival Slang . being a member of the carnival.

There you have it! Everything you need to know about it. No sh-it!

№ 2110

A Mish-Mash of This and That

2011-03-19T21:17:00.000-07:00

A man staggered into a hospital with concussion, multiple bruises, two black eyes, and a five iron wrapped tightly around his throat.

Naturally the doctor asked him "What happened to you?"

"Well, I was having a quiet round of golf with my wife, when, at a difficult hole, we both sliced our balls into a cow pasture. We went to look for them and while I was looking around I noticed one of the cows had something white at its rear end."

"I walked over, lifted its tail, and sure enough, there was a golf ball with my wife's Monogram on it stuck right in the middle of the cow's arse."

Still holding the cow's tail up, I yelled to my wife, 'Hey, this looks like yours!'"

"I don't remember much after that..."

------------------------------------------------

A little old lady was walking down the street dragging two large plastic garbage bags behind her. One of the bags rips, and every once in a while a $20 bill falls out onto the sidewalk.

Noticing this, a policeman stops her, and says, "Ma'am, there are $20 bills falling out of your bag."

"Oh really?... Darn!" said the little old lady. "I'd better go back, and see if I can find them. Thanks for telling me."

"Well, now, not so fast," says the cop. "How did you get all that money? You didn't steal it, did you?"

"Oh, no", said the little old lady. "You see, my back yard is right next to the football stadium parking lot. On game days, a lot of fans come and pee through the fence into my flower garden . So, I stand behind the fence with my hedge clippers. Each time some guy sticks his thing through the fence, I say, '$20 or off it comes.'"

"Well, that seems only fair" laughs the cop. "OK. Good luck! Oh, by the way, what's in the other bag?"

"Well, you know----, not everybody pays".

------------------------------------------------
A man visits his doctor.

“Doctor, I suffer from premature ejaculation. Can you cure me?” he asks.

“No, I can’t,” says the doctor. “But I can introduce you to a woman with a short attention span."

------------------------------------------------
Fred was experiencing a very tough time in his life. He felt his faith slipping and was desperate. He pulled out his Bible and decided to open it randomly to get a word from God.

So he flipped pages and stopped at Matthew 27:5, which says, "Judas went out and hanged himself."

He thought he'd try it again and Luke 10:37 came up, where Jesus said, "Go and do thou likewise."

So he quickly flipped to another verse and landed on John 13:27, which says, "What you are about to do, do quickly."

------------------------------------------------
A rabbi, a priest, and a minister have their houses of worship side by side, so they decide to have a car-share routine.

On the first day, the other two are shocked to see the vicar lay hands on the bonnet and pray silently.

"What are you doing?" the priest asks.

The vicar looks up. "I'm just dedicating the car to the Lord's service."

"Good idea! Be right back!" the priest exclaims, running into his church. He emerges with a bulb on a short stick, shaking water out of it on to the car.

The rabbi stares. "What are you doing?" he says.

"I'm consecrating it with holy water," the priest replies.

"Great idea!" the rabbi says, and he runs into his synagogue, and he emerges with a hacksaw and takes off an inch of the end of the exhaust pipe.

№ 2109

Butterfly Dreams (52)

2011-03-15T18:20:00.000-07:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Escape To Route 66

The transformation from the menacing persona of General Gates to a placid Vincent Addams and then back once again was, to say the least, unsettling. I recalled reading of such a dramatic metamorphosis in the classic novel, "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" by Robert Louis Stevenson. The fictional Mr. Hyde, however, had had no grandiose designs for world domination.

"Wingate!" he shouted. "Grab Agent Ferrara's gun over there." When the colonel hesitated Gates glared at him, "I expect my future head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff to follow my orders ... Brigadier General Wingate!"

"Yes, sir!" the man answered while snapping a crisp salute to his Commander-in-Chief.

If I'd had any thoughts before of Wingate helping us, they were quickly quashed. While it was not the time to be laughing, I couldn't help but to notice the comedic actions of the man as he scurried across the cabin to retrieve the pistol. It was clear that a promotion to such a powerful position would have him giving in to blind loyalty to Addams.

Amid the confusion of the moment Faye rushed to his side and grabbed his arm. "Mr. President ... father," she whimpered, "you know I've always stood by you ..."

"I might have raised you as my own, but you are not from my loins," he said shoving her onto the floor at Professor Jordan's feet. "Cry on your real father's shoulders."

"Leave her alone, General!" Brock O'Day shouted. He knelt beside her and took her hand in his. "Haven't you hurt her enough?"

"Ah, O'Day," he uttered with disdain. "You were once one of my loyal soldiers in Nam, but you've turned against me, haven't you? It's too bad that you learned the hard way that being married to Faye was more demanding than fighting the Viet Cong, eh?"

"Look, she's still a woman, a human being. For all her faults, she deserves to be treated as such," Brock pontificated to him. "She's my wife ... and I love her."

"Touching, very touching," Gates responded. "Very well, have it your way. The two of you will die side by side."

There was a sudden series of high-pitched beeps resounding throughout the cabin. "Jesus H. Christ!" Wingate roared. "We need to get out of here."

Gates spun around and shouted at Wingate, "What is it? What in the hell is happening?"

Wide-eyed in frantic confusion Wingate yelped, "C-4! The detonation timers have been activated!"

"C-4? What C-4?" Gates bellowed. "Wingate, what have you done?"

"Begging your pardon, Mr. President, I was following your orders." he replied.

Gates slapped his palm on the side of his forehead. "I told you that none of the passengers were to make it to this base alive. I didn't say to turn the plane into a fucking fireball!"

Nervous beads of sweat forming on his forehead he answered, "I had my men plant several charges on board before we took off from Bedford. The plan was for myself and my men to jump from the plane ... and then to blow it up in mid-air. One of men, a private, had the remote device. I gave him a direct order to use it, even if I didn't make it off the plane!"

"That didn't happen, you moron, did it? Why did he wait until now to follow your orders?"

"I ... I don't know, sir," Wingate babbled, "I don't know."

Gates swung his pistol around striking the colonel's chin. "You fool! What are you waiting for? Disarm them!"

"I don't know ... where ... they all are," he stammered. "I might be able ... to find one or two of them. There isn't enough time ... to find ... them all!"

"Damn it, Wingate," he snapped, "how much time ... is there?"

Wingate gulped but struggled to swallow, "Less than five minutes, sir. We have to get off this plane ... now!"

Baxter chortled and shook his head, "Somehow, Gates, I wouldn't feel very secure knowing this man was in charge of the Joint Chiefs." He removed something from his breast pocket and tossed it in the direction of the colonel. "It would seem that you put too much faith in ... a private. He said he couldn't kill all the people on the plane, so he handed it to me."

The device struck Wingate's chest and careened away onto the deck. "Baxter? You activated it? Have you gone stark raving mad? You've killed us all!"

"Everyone! Get off the plane! Run on the runway as far away from it as fast as you can!" Baxter shouted.

Without batting an eyelash he twisted his body in a half-pirouette and swung his raised leg in a sweeping arc. The heel of his foot slammed into the Wingate's ribcage sending the hapless colonel slamming into the bulkhead. His actions continued with a stiff-armed shove of his open palm into Gate's chest.

I grabbed Susan's arm and moved toward the door shouting as I stepped past the stunned Wingate, "You heard him! Get off the plane!"

Agents Ferrara and Landers studied Baxter for a moment and decided they weren't about to risk hand-to-hand combat with the man. They turned heel and followed my flight. Professor Jordan and Brock O'Day helped Faye to her feet and they made haste for the exit.

At the foot of the stairs I turned to see Baxter with one foot in the plane and the other on the top stair. He was shouting back into the cabin of the plane, "Forget it, David. Let's go!"

I didn't know how far we were away from the plane or how much time we had before it was blown to smithereens, but not one of us was about to look back. Everyone knew we had to run a long way and had very little time to get there.

Next to me Professor Jordan suddenly stumbled and fell onto the tarmac. Turning to help him I saw that Baxter was on my heels. Waving me ahead, he cradled the man in his arms, picked him up and quickly lurched into full gallop.

One moment the only sounds to be heard were those of our fleeing feet on the runway, in the next, the air was shattered by a series of bone-jarring explosions. The concussed air of the blasts reached us in a millisecond, knocking the lot of us off our feet onto the concrete. Behind us a fireball spewed skyward within a plume of heavy black smoke.

Baxter was the first to his feet and he bellowed, "Get up ... run! That was just the explosives. There's still the fuel ..."

His words were muted as the jet fuel in the plane's main tanks erupted. Only moments after, the fuel in the craft's wings exploded obliterating what remained of the massive plane. Super-heated by the ignited fuel, searing shock waves passed over our grounded bodies.

I glanced over my shoulder to see twin balls of fire, larger than the first, belching into the sky. It was in that moment, that I realized we were far from safe. Trailing dark smoke in their path, pieces of burning metal debris were about to rain down upon us.

Still on his feet and burdened by the weight of the professor, Baxter was already moving toward the end of the runway. "Pieces of the plane ... watch yourselves!" he roared spurring the rest of us to resume our retreat .

Like meteors, burning bits of the plane slammed onto the tarmac all around us. Unrelenting, we desperately ran the gauntlet of deadly metal fragments toward the fence and the gate looming less than a hundred yards ahead of us. The barrier marked the terminus of the airport property and beyond it lie the dead-ended stretch of the legendary Route 66.

A wad of twisted metal the size of a basketball crashed into the ground beside Susan causing her to stumble. Ignoring my broken finger I grabbed the back of her shirt to keep her on her feet even as the pain shot through my hand. She screamed when an intact jet engine crashed in our path, its impact cratering the tarmac under its weight.

A whoosh of air passed over my head. I looked up to see a piece of fuselage the size of a refrigerator door as it kited straight for an unwary Agent Ferrara. Bowled over by the twisted sheet of metal only his feet could be seen beneath it. Landers was quick to come to the aid of his partner and pulled the stunned man free.

Susan and I were the last to join the others at the fence. Baxter's ingenuity never ceased to surprise me as I watched him while he was in the act of trying to break the chain or the lock on the gate. He had picked up what resembled a piece of the strut to the plane's landing gear and was using it as a lever against the weathered links. There was a creak of protesting metal before one of links finally snapped.

Although it had been sitting there all along, it was only then that I paid any heed to the vehicle beyond the fence. Its driver extended an arm and gave a thumbs-up gesture. The passenger side door opened and a beautiful woman stepped into view.

"Looking for a ride?" beamed Michelle.

( To be continued

The Butterfly Net )

№ 2108

Poking Around - Joking Around

2011-03-14T18:34:00.000-07:00

Little Johnny watched his daddy's car pass by the school playground and go into the woods. Curious, he followed the car and saw Daddy and Aunt Jane in a passionate embrace.

Little Johnny found this so exciting that he could hardly contain himself as he ran home and started to tell his mother.

"Mommy, I was at the playground and I saw Daddy's car go into the woods with Aunt Jane. I went back to look and he was giving Aunt Jane a big kiss, and then he helped her take off her shirt. Then Aunt Jane helped Daddy take his pants off, then Aunt Jane..."

At this point his mother cut him off and said, "Johnny, this is such an interesting story, lets save the rest of it for supper time. I want to see the look on Daddy's face when you tell it tonight."

At the dinner table that evening, she asked little Johnny to tell his story.

Johnny started his story, "I was at the playground and I saw Daddy's car go into the woods with Aunt Jane. I went back to look and he was giving Aunt Jane a big kiss, then he helped her take off her shirt. Then Aunt Jane helped Daddy take his pants off, then Aunt Jane and Daddy started doing the same thing that Mommy and Uncle Bill used to do when Daddy was away on the oil rigs...

The mother fainted!

Moral:

Sometimes you need to just shut the f**k up and listen to the whole story
before you interrupt!

◄-------------------------------------►

STC (Senior Texting Code)

Since more and more Seniors are texting and tweeting there appears to be a need for a STC (Senior Texting Code). If you qualify for Senior Discounts this is the code for you.

ATD: At The Doctor's
BFF: Best Friend Farted
BTW: Bring The Wheelchair
BYOT: Bring Your Own Teeth
CBM: Covered By Medicare
CUATSC: See You At The Senior Center
DWI: Driving While Incontinent
FWBB: Friend With Beta Blockers
FWIW: Forgot Where I Was
FYI: Found Your Insulin
GGPBL: Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low!
GHA: Got Heartburn Again
HGBM: Had Good Bowel Movement
IMHO: Is My Hearing-Aid On?
LMDO: Laughing My Dentures Out
LOL: Living On Lipitor
LWO: Lawrence Welk's On
OMMR: On My Massage Recliner
OMSG: Oh My! Sorry, Gas.
ROFL... CGU: Rolling On The Floor Laughing.... Can't Get Up
SGGP: Sorry, Gotta Go Poop
TTYL: Talk To You Louder
WAITT: Who Am I Talking To?
WTFA: Wet The Furniture Again
WTP: Where's The Prunes?
WWNO: Walker Wheels Need Oil
GGLKI (Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking In)

-(Thanks, Cathy)

◄-------------------------------------►

George and Harriet decided to celebrate their 55th Wedding Anniversary with a trip to Las Vegas. When they entered the MGM Hotel/Casino and registered, a sweet young woman dressed in a very short skirt became very friendly. George brushed her off.

Harriet objected, "George, that young woman was nice, and you were so rude."

"Harriet, she's a prostitute."

"I don't believe you. That sweet young thing?"

"Let's go up to our room and I'll prove it."

In their room, George called down to the desk and asked for 'Bambi' to come to Room 217. "Now," he said, "you hide in the bathroom with the door open just enough to hear us, OK?"

Soon, there was a knock on the door. George opened it and Bambi walked in, swinging her hips provocatively.

George asked, "How much do you charge?"

"$125 basic rate, $100 tips for special services."

Even George was taken aback. "$125? I was thinking more in the range of $25."

Bambi laughed derisively. "You must really be a hick if you think you can buy sex for that price."

"Well," said George, "I guess we can't do business. Goodbye."

After she left, Harriet came out of the bathroom. She said, "I just can't believe it!"

George said, "Let's forget it. We'll go have a drink, then eat dinner."

At the bar, as they sipped their cocktails, Bambi came up behind George, pointed slyly at Harriet, and said, "See what you get for $25 bucks?"

◄-------------------------------------►

Bob walks into a bar and sees Mike sitting at the end of the bar with a great big smile on his face.

Bob says, "Mike, what are you so happy for?"

"Well Bob, I gotta tell ya.. Yesterday I was out waxin' my boat, just waxin' my boat, and a redhead came up to me. Tits out to here, Bob. Tits out to here! She says, 'Can I have a ride in your boat'"?

I said "Sure you can have a ride in my boat."

So I took her way out, Bob. I turned off the key and I said "It's either screw or swim! She couldn't swim, Bob. She couldn't swim!"

The next day Bob walks into a bar and sees Mike sitting at the end of the bar with a even bigger smile on his face.

Bob says, "What are you happy about today Mike?"

"Well Bob... I gotta tell ya... Yesterday I was out waxin' my boat, just waxin' my boat and a BEAUTIFUL blond came up to me. Tits out to here, Bob. Tits out to here! She said 'Can I have a ride in your boat?'"

I told her "Sure you can have a ride in my boat."

"So I took her way out, Bob. Way out much further than the last one. I turned off the key and I said, 'It's either screw or swim!' She couldn't swim, Bob! She couldn't swim!'"

A couple days pass and Bob walks into a bar and sees Mike cryin over a beer.

Bob says, "Mike, what are you so sad for?"

"Well Bob, I gotta tell ya ... Yesterday I was out waxin' my boat, just waxin' my boat, and the most desirable brunette came up to me. Tits WAY out to here, Bob. Tits WAY out to here."

She says, 'Can I have a ride in your boat?'

So I said, "Sure you can have a ride in my boat. So I took her way out, Bob, way WAY out...Much further than the last two. I turned off the key, and looked at her tits and said 'It's either screw or swim!"

"She pulled down her pants and ..... She had a pecker, BOB! She had this great BIG pecker!"

"...And I can't swim BOB! I can't swim!"
-("Borrowed from Phils Phun )

№ 2107

Butterfly Dreams (51)

2011-03-09T19:25:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Sleight of Hand

Above the console a row of intermittent blue lights blinked across the face of a modem. One after the other each light ceased to flash but shone steady.

The connector in place, Addams depressed the switch that would enable a signal to be broadcast. I could only assume that the transmission tower in the desert, which was being manned by a team of Wingate's men, would then beam an encrypted code into space. My assumption was about to be confirmed.

"Thanks to Colonel Alison of the Air Force," Addams said launching into a gloating diatribe, "I was able to procure the access codes to a few satellites, which because of their strategic geosynchronous orbits, have made it possible for Butterfly Blue to be activated almost simultaneously across the planet."

I shook my head in despair and with a subconscious reflex raised my hand to the back of my head. Beneath my palm I could feel the bristling hairs on my nape as I rubbed there with a vigorous but futile attempt to render the implanted device at the base of my skull inert. Without looking in his direction I realized that Addams was watching my actions.

"Yes, Mr. Black," he said, "the nano-receiver in your head will soon be attuned to the signals from those satellites. When that happens, you will become a loyal subject of the President of the United States ...," he paused raising an octave the decibels of his voice to accentuate the final two chilling words, "... of Earth!"

His megalomaniacal blathering only strengthened my resolve to attempt to resist the inevitable barrage about to be broadcast from space into not only my head, but to an untold number of similar devices around the globe. I knew however, I would not be able to do so. I, like others around the planet, would become a living programmable automaton, an unwitting minion of the mad man before me.

Such was the strength of my concentration to barricade my mind, it felt as if the blood vessels in my forehead were about to burst. The beads of perspiration that formed on my forehead were beginning to drip into my eyes.

Amused by my plight, Addams burst into sadistic laughter. His rodomontade intensified with a curious quote from a popular science fiction program, "I am Locutus of Borg! Resistance is fu-tile!"

To my left I caught sight of David's hand. At belt level his thumb was raised slightly above his clenched fist. Wiping the sweat from my eyes I followed his gaze across the cabin to Brock O'Day. I was greeted by the same flutter from his eyes that he'd displayed earlier. I noticed too that Jordan's head dipped in a barely perceptible nod.

Implausible as it seemed, the three of them still had a plan in play. My mind relaxed its defensive posture and I allowed my thoughts to race, to replay all that had happened since we'd landed at the Amarillo airport. Then it hit me. On the plane, amidst the clouds of teargas, O'Day must have then swapped the connectors.

David, feigning allegiance to his former boss General Gates, had used a series of calculated but risky sleights of hand when he had handled the two connectors. His actions, which had turned out to be duplicitous, had fooled me into thinking he'd made a mistake when he had allowed the original device to be inserted into the receptive port. Somehow, David must have known about Addams' fail safe code. His mistake had been a deliberate one.

Although he had been unaware of O'Day's previous switch of the devices, Addams had nonetheless seen through David's sleight of hand maneuver. Unbeknown to him he had promptly removed the original device and had inserted and activated David's faux connector.

It took several seconds for Addams to realize what was happening. Behind him the two FBI agents lowered their weapons and staggered on their feet. Faye murmured something and looked about in a confused state. Susan rose from the console and stared wide-eyed at the bank of electronic equipment in front of her.

It was probably because of pent up frustrations and anger that I wanted to smash something. I watched my fingers curl into a ball into the palm of my right hand. My thumb pressed so hard against the digits that I felt the pinch of my nails digging into skin.

The stunned onlookers were aware of what I was going to do. Addams-Gates was not! He never saw the clinched missile that was on a collision course with his jaw. He never had the chance to avoid its impact.

"Yow!" I cried out as my fist slammed into his jaw. I felt something pop.

Addams' head twisted from the force of the blow and a moan escaped his lips. He was sent hurtling backward until he fell onto the deck in a crumpled heap at the feet of the two FBI men.

"You sir, are not Jean Luc Picard!" I sniped down at him.

Initially addled by my inexplicable act, Agent Ferrara's years of experience and training seemed to have been forgotten. When he sprung into action he pressed his gun against my chest and yelled, "Hands up or I'll shoot!"

The anger was still welled up inside of me. Despite the searing pain burning in my hand I swiped his arm away from me. Stunned by my sudden move his gun flew from his hand and crashed against the far bulkhead.

Landers, who was helping the President to his feet, started to wield his own weapon when Addams grabbed his arm. Despite the agent's resistance, he held tight onto the arm until the pistol was lowered.

"No! Let him be," he shouted. Gaining his balance and trying to show some dignity, he tugged at his suit jacket and tightened the double Windsor knot of his tie. "I can't say that I blame him. I deserved that."

With my aching right hand cupped in the left one, I looked into Addams' eyes and queried, "Mr. President, is that you?"

With a weak nod he replied, "Yes, I'm Vincent Addams." He rubbed his jaw and moved it back and forth, testing it, before speaking again, "Gates? Is he ... gone? I don't feel his presence ..."

David spoke up, "No, Mr. President. He's still in there. He's probably gone into dormancy to think ... to plan ..."

Susan approached me and pleaded, "Your hand ... let me see it." I winced when she tried to open my fist. Refusing to let go of my hand she touched in turn the tips of each finger. "Uh-huh," she whispered, "you have a broken pinkie."

Brock O'Day stood nearby and chuckled, "Michael, if you should ever choose another vocation, take my advice and don't take up boxing."

Addams had been quiet for several moments, lost in thought. He grimaced and in sincere words addressed us, "I've given this serious thought. For the sake of national security, you need to incapacitate me. Drug me, if you will. You have to get me back to Washington where I will resign as the President. Vice President Chandler has to be sworn in ..."

"Mr. Pres... President," Faye stammered, "Surely there must ... must be another way."

The President threw his hands up onto his head and shrieked! His eyes rolled back and he trembled as if in the throes of a seizure. Then as sudden as the attack had come over him, it subsided.

A feral glare in his eyes and a snarled upper lip announced that Gates' domination of Vincent Addams was once again in effect. "That sniveling weasel thinks I would allow him to step down?" he growled. "How did that weakling ever get elected in the first place?"

"It's over, General Gates," Jeremy Baxter said. "Your entire mind-control network has been shut down ... permanently!"

Gates-Addams' elbow jerked backwards into Agent Landers' solar plexus. As the man doubled over his gun ended up in the hands of his assailant. He backed a safe distance away from the agent and snapped, "You think so, Baxter? I built it once and I can rebuild it."

"There are too many who know ...," I said before letting my words trail off.

"For the moment, Mr. Black, for the moment," he responded with a wave of the gun in his hand. He stared at me and took a step in my direction. "You! You hit me. You hit the President of the United States!" He flashed an evil grin and espoused, "You shall be the first ... of those who know ... to be silenced."

( To be continued

Escape to Route 66 )

№ 2106

You're a Blockhead, Charlie Sheen

2011-03-06T12:30:00.000-08:00

Whose Line Is It Anyway?
If one didn't know any better, it would be easy enough to think that the actor Charlie Sheen and the Libyan dictator, Muammar Gaddafi, are auditioning for a new TV series.

Perhaps Drew Carey is considering the pair for a sketch on the comedy improvisation program, "Whose Line Is It Anyway." One thing is certain, the pair have been providing a plethora of material for the late-night TV circuit.

The US actor and the Libyan leader have produced some choice lines recently. What if the author of some of their quotes was not given, would you be able to distinguish between them?

The British publication, The Guardian, has given us the opportunity to see if we can! You can test yourself at the following interactive link:

Gaddafi-Sheen Quiz
Or, for your convenience, you can take the test below. (The answers appear at the end of the post.)

^1. I have defeated this earthworm with my words – imagine what I would have done with my fire-breathing fists.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^2. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^3. Life without dignity is worthless.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^4. I'm extremely old-fashioned, I'm a nobleman, I'm chivalrous.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^5. I am like the Queen of England.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^6. I am much bigger than any rank, for those who are talking about rank, I am a fighter.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^7. Every great movement begins with one man.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^8. These resentments, they are the rocket fuel that lives in the tip of my saber.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^9. I woke up at 4am, before dawn. You should be asleep. You’re all tired after a sleepless night.

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

^10. The US commission report on 9/11 was 'an absolute fairytale, a complete work of fiction.'

a. Sheen
b. Gaddafi

QUIZ ANSWERS:

uǝǝɥs ˙01 ؛ıɟɟɐppɐƃ ˙9 ؛uǝǝɥs ˙8 ؛uǝǝɥs ˙7 ؛ıɟɐppɐƃ ˙6
ıɟɐppɐƃ ˙5 ؛uǝǝɥs ˙4 ؛ıɟɐppɐƃ ˙3 ؛uǝǝɥs ˙2 ؛uǝǝɥs ˙1

№ 2105

Butterfly Dreams (50)

2011-03-04T21:36:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

The Mind Squared

It was obvious that the mind and the larger than life ego of General Julius Gates was the dominant persona behind President Addams' outburst. Defeat was not in his vocabulary, and surrender was not an option.

"Mr. President," Wingate shouted grabbing Addams' arm. "You can't do this. It would be cold-blooded murder."

He yanked his arm free of the colonel's grip and took a deep breath. "You're right, of course. I can't be soiling the President's reputation now can I?"

Professor Jordan removed his headset and swiveled in his seat until he was facing Addams. "It's not easy being you ... and him, is it?"

His eyes narrowed and he seemed pensive as if measuring his words before responding, "What are you implying, Jordan?"

"It's obvious," Baxter said, "that he wants to know to whom he's talking."

Addams spun around and stood nose to nose to him, "I've had enough you and your insolence, Baxter! Who are you? Who are you working for? The FBI? The CIA? The NSA?" He backed away suddenly remembering that there were others in the cabin.

"Why, Mr. President," he replied with a mocking inference to the man's title, "those agencies answer to you, do they not?"

"Don't patronize me, asshole!" Addams lashed. "I've seen your record and your current status. Tell me, how is it that a soldier with eight years of service has never been promoted beyond the rank of corporal? How is that your duty status is listed as TAD-classified for the entirety of your second tour of duty?" He paused clinching a raised fist before straightening his necktie to regain his composure. "And why is it that I'm being denied access to the nature of your assignment and to the identity of whomever authorized that status?"

Like Jordan I had removed my headset and was sitting in silence, watching and listening as the drama unfolded. For the past year I had been curious as to how Corporal Jeremy Baxter, had seemingly at will, been able to move about in both the military and civilian arenas.

"It's obvious," Baxter said with a wide grin, "that my orders were issued on a need-to-know basis only. Frankly sir, for matters of national security, the President of the United States was not included on the list of those who need to know."

His nostrils flaring and his face turning red he sniped, "That's preposterous! All matters of national security must come under the auspices of the President!"

"Ahem," Colonel Wingate gulped. "I'm afraid he's right, Mr. President." He averted his eyes from Addams' angry glare before elaborating, "There are provisions in our Constitution to limit the powers of the President, who is after all, an elected civilian."

Brock O'Day laughed aloud, apparently to have his own say. "You know, I don't always agree with our Congressmen and Senators, but I've just gained a lot more respect for them."

Addams pointed at Baxter and snapped, "So that's it! You're answering to some senator, maybe several of them!" He rubbed his chin and mused, "They must be operating through a committee, an insignificant one that gets little attention. Perhaps, technically it doesn't even exist. Now, why would there be a need for a covert committee in the first place?"

"Begging your pardon, Mr. President," said Faye as she approached him, "might I suggest that it was your successor behind Corporal Baxter's duty status as well as the formation of this possible committee?"

Nodding in agreement to Faye's observation Wingate said, "Jackson Baker would have known about the mind research and the various projects associated with it. That he might have surrounded himself with some senators that he trusted is not out of the question. Have you not aligned yourself with some of the current senators, Mr. President?"

"Let's keep how I run my office out of this discussion," Addams responded.

I couldn't help myself but to declare, "You can't be soiling the President's reputation, now can you?"

He flashed a sardonic grin before allowing his facial features to morph into a menacing scowl. "I don't know who's been the biggest thorn in my side ... you and your wife or Corporal Baxter?" He paused and scanned the faces of the others in the cabin. "For that matter, the lot of you have been more itches than I care to scratch."

"Ah, would it then be safe to say," Jordan interjected, "that Vincent T. Addams is nothing more than a rash?"

"That's twice that you've used my name in the second person. Why?" Addams demanded.

A toothy smile appeared below the professor's moustache, "Why don't we cut to the chase ... Julius?"

Addams heard the audible gasp that escaped Faye's lips but remained stoic, "Professor, it would appear that your mind has been turned to mush from using those headsets once too often."

"Perhaps it is you who suffers from a gelatinous brain. You never weighed the consequences of how the mind of a politician versed in diplomacy might coexist with that of a crazed power-hungry warmongering general." Bemused Jordan watched Addams' reactions to his words. It was clear that the man was trying to suppress the anger festering within him.

"Coexisting minds?" Addams sputtered. Fiddling with his necktie he adopted a more defensive manner and tried to tap into the diplomatic trait that Jordan had cited. "Everyone here knows we have been exploring the use of the human mind, telepathy if you will, but really professor ... mind swapping?"

"Mind swapping?" Jordan harrumphed. "You and I both know that you've progressed beyond mere mind swapping."

Addams raised his arms and spread them, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is what happens when a man's mind enters flights of fantasy. He becomes delusional."

"The charades must end here!" Jordan roared. Gaining his composure he continued, "I know that the merger of two minds in one body is not only possible, but it has been accomplished ... on two occasions."

"The mind squared," I asserted.

Addams' eyes widened as he stared long and hard at the old man who stood before him in undaunted defiance. The realization of the meaning of the man's words could have easily been mistaken for a sense of visual recognition.

He folded his arms across his chest and smiled at his adversary. "Bishop ... Bishop King? You ... you are in there?"

"Yes, Julius, it is me. When I realized what you'd pulled off during that so-called assassination attempt on the President, I knew I had to stop you."

"Ha!" Addams cried. "You forced your mind into Professor Jordan's head. You, sir, are no better than me!"

"Mr. President or General Gates, whichever one of you is present, this is Jordan speaking. Bishop did not forcibly put his mind in my head. No. It was my idea. I suggested that we undergo the procedure. Like Bishop, I too wanted to stop your plans."

I noticed that everyone else in the cabin, like me, had become a stunned and silent audience. I was amazed that the mind of Jordan-King was able to allow its two personae to function, independent of the other. I couldn't help but wonder how a psychiatrist would diagnose the man with anything but a multiple personality disorder. He would be wrong.

"You see, I was dying. My body was failing. After the cemetery services of Ben and Susan I was visited by Professor Jordan," said King.

Jordan picked up the narrative, "...And I was aware that I was in the early stages of Alzheimer's. In the end, it was an easy decision for both of us."

"Bah!" Addams-Gates bellowed. "You're driving me crazy ... the two of you talking through the same mouth! I won't allow that to happen to me. I'm stronger than Addams and I alone run this body."

"Don't underestimate him, Julius," Jordan countered. "Like it or not, he's in there, somewhere in your head, he's there."

"Enough of this bantering!" he roared smacking his fist into his open palm. "You're plans were for naught. You've failed. You have not stopped me!" He extended his hand to Wingate and said, "Give me the connector you're holding, Colonel."

Although there was a nervous look on his face David said, "You're wasting your time, sir. My connector rendered your program useless."

"Did it now?" Addams gloated. "David, your skills at sleight of hand might be impressive but your attempt to sabotage my plans also failed. Of course, you had no way of knowing that I had fail-safe measures in place."

He shoved David away from the console and switched the connectors. He winked at the young man, "Your device did nothing. No signal was sent. It's like this, son, this station will not transmit without first receiving a coded signal from a remote signal." He picked up a telephone receiver and punched three buttons.

"No!" David exclaimed. "You can't do this!"

"I can and I will," he boasted. He looked around at the gathered faces and grinned. "I'm putting this on speaker. I think you'll get out of it."

"Hello, General Gates," said the voice on the line. "I'm awaiting your instructions."

I felt sick to my stomach. There was no denying to whom the voice belonged.

"Stu Janikowski, my old friend. It is good to hear your voice. You may send the transmission ... now!"

( To be continued

Sleight of Hand )

№ 2104

Life According to Elvis

2011-03-01T18:48:00.000-08:00

SOME people follow Confucius, others swear by the philosophical insights of Plato or Sartre.

I for one, instead, study the songs of Elvis Presley.

Taken as a whole, they contain everything from handy tips about geography
("a river flows surely to the sea") to practical travel advice (the YMCA in Memphis has cheap accommodations), right through to religious instruction ("I'm lonely like Adam, you're evil like Eve").

Herewith are the 30 things I've learned about life from listening to Elvis.

TRAVEL
1. The typical train is 16 carriages long.
2. All food in Germany consists of hasenpfeffer and black pumpernickel.
3. The Heartbreak Hotel is located at the end of Lonely Street and its desk clerk dresses in black.
4. Hula dancers are best judged by their ability to really move that grass around.
5. A harem in the Middle East contains 20 women.
6. So efficient is the US postal service that it will return an unwanted letter within 24 hours of its initial posting
.7. There are few sounds that make you feel more lonely than that of the midnight train.
8. If hitchhiking, it's hard to choose a better destination than Memphis Tennessee.

RELATIONSHIPS
1. When inviting a young woman to dance, you may increase your chances by noting that chicken is being served in the barn.
2. If rejected by the older sister in a family, by all means have a crack at her little sister, who may have matured more than you at first noticed.
3. Women named Marie are naturally duplicitous.
4. It's OK to date your cousin, providing she's a distant cousin "but not too distant with you".
5. Girls named Daisy tend to drive you crazy.
6. If caught without a partner during a dance at a federal penitentiary, why not try dancing with a wooden chair?
7. Conversation with a girlfriend can become tiresome if she fails to break up the conversation every now and then with a little action
.8. A .44-calibre pistol is an excellent firearm choice for a woman whose partner was doin' her wrong.

PERSONAL GROOMING
1. If wearing suede shoes, particularly of a light hue, one should make their protection one's No. 1 priority, even above that of preventing arson attacks on one's own home.

THE ANIMAL KINGDOM
1. There are few looks in life more intense than that of a one-eyed cat peeping in a seafood store.
2. A passionate kiss can be measured by the fact that even a team of wild horses would be unable to drag apart the two participants.
3. The embrace of a grizzly bear provides a useful point of comparison when considering the pressure necessary to demonstrate real passion during an affair.
4. A good hound dog should be able to catch a rabbit.

GEOGRAPHY
1. People are more likely to be alone during a blue moon than during any other lunar event.
2. In the state of Kentucky, precipitation usually occurs when a man is hitchhiking from town to town, having been abandoned by his baby.

MEDICAL
1. The lips of attractive women tend to taste like breakfast spread, in particular honey.
2. A temperature of 109 is quite common during the early stages of an affair.
3. The experience of love, especially early in life, can have serious medical consequences including sensations of itching, hand tremors, leg spasms, heart palpitations and language difficulties.

HISTORY
1. American soldiers were unable to approach young women in Germany in the period after the war, as local women wore signs in German saying, "Keepen Sie Off The Grass."

PHILOSOPHY
1. Children born in disadvantaged areas such as ghettos should receive special assistance as this reduces the likelihood of them turning to a life of crime, thus perpetuating an endless cycle of disadvantage
2. A rabbit's foot, while widely considered a creator of good luck, makes only a moderate contribution to one's happiness compared to the impact of finding a good life partner.
3. If you suspect someone is evil check their middle name because it may well be "Misery".

Now, show me one passage in Plato, Sartre or Confucius that can match all of that for depth, width and wisdom.

I've lived my life by it, how about you?

RIP Elvis, the King.
№ 2103

Butterfly Dreams (49)

2011-02-24T00:14:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Sensory Overload

Tightening my grip on President Addams' legs I paused at the base of the boarding stairs leading up into the plane. Something was reflecting light from the westerly setting sun. I averted my eyes from the glare and saw that Baxter too had noticed it.

"It must be a car. The driver is probably wondering what happened to the road," he opined.

"Curious," I mused, "that a road would end so close to the airport."

"Years ago the Air Force increased the length of the runway to handle the larger jets. They split the road and closed it off to keep traffic away from the base. Now motorists have to travel forty miles around to pick up the continuation of the old highway. That driver must have missed the detour sign."

At the top of the stairs and before entering the plane I asked, "By the way, what road is that?"

"It's the old Route 66," he answered.

Once we were inside the plane two airmen relieved us of the burden of Addams and led the still groggy man to a nearby seat. With the men attending to him Wingate joined them to check on the President's condition. Although I tried, I was unable to read the colonel's lips as he whispered something to the three men before him.

Susan, a neuro-headset resting on her head, was seated in front of one of several consoles along the starboard bulkhead. Next to her an airmen was manipulating several dials, probably an exercise to calibrate the sensitive equipment.

The forceful hand which shoved me in the direction of the consoles, also forced me into one of the swivel seats. Next to me I was joined by a grumbling Professor Jordan. When he turned his head my eyes followed his and together we studied David's face. The young man revealed a curious grin on his lips coupled with arched eyebrows before he motioned for us to don the headsets.

Earlier Brock's wink had indicated that he was up to something. Although I had not been apprised, I was compelled to accept David's facial movements as some kind of a signal. As such, I remained calm and did not react when I felt his fingers probing and then removing something from my back pocket.

On the plane, I thought, when Brock and I were trying to escape the tear gas, he had patted me on the backside. I realized that he must have slipped something into my pocket, something that David knew would be there! While impressed with their plans up to that point, I was becoming increasingly frustrated at not being in the loop.

I caught site of the object being palmed in his hand. With its USB-type plug and measuring about the size of a deck of cards, it resembled a large wifi connector. I scanned the console before me and sure enough, next to the headset connection was an identical device.

With his left hand reaching above my head for a row of switches he let the device slip from his right onto the console. Taking his cue, I jiggled the connected device until it came away in my hand. I slipped the original device under my arm and picked up the one David had placed in front of me. Before I could connect the substitute connector I froze, reacting to a commotion outside.

"Damn it, Faye," Brock O'Day growled as she shoved him through the door, "if we ever get out of this ..."

"Shut up, you big ape," she snapped at her angry husband. As luck would have it, my hand and the object it held was in her direct line of vision. He eyes remained fixed on me and she pointed in my direction even as she shouted, "Colonel Wingate!"

He spun around obviously irritated by the interruption and responded, "What is it, Mrs. O'Day?"

"Michael is tampering with the equipment! There! Look in his hand!" she cried.

"Damn!" David was quick to react, grabbing the connector from me and moving my arm aside to reveal the other one. "He was trying to switch the wireless module!"

"...And right under your nose!" Wingate snarled. "How could you be so careless?"

David stammered, "I ... I was cal ... calibrating the radio signal. It never occurred to me ... I didn't think he would have a duplicate ..."

I slumped back in the chair in defeat but gave no impression that David had been abetting me in any way. It had to appear that I was acting alone. Yet, I was puzzled by David's careless mistake.

Apparently alert but unsteady on his feet, Addams shuffled behind me and eyed the device in David's hand and the one on the console. "Mr. Black is not one to be underestimated," he muttered shaking his fist at the young man. He regained his composure and said, "I trust you know which is which?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. President, Sir," he replied with a nervous nod of his head. He handed the device he was holding to Addams, "This one is the duplicate. It is most fortunate that Mrs. O'Day saw him trying to connect it to the system and alerted us."

"Indeed it was," Addams said. He looked over at her and added, "Well done, my dear."

An 'aw shucks' flush tinted her cheeks, "Thank you, Mr. President."

The professor frowned at her before addressing Addams, "One minute you're going to shoot her and the next you're singing her praises?"

"My good Professor," he chuckled, "I assure you that I had no intention of shooting her, or anyone else for that matter. It was simply a matter of drawing out those not loyal to me or my cause. When it comes to our nation's security, I needed to know who I could and could not trust."

"Obviously you didn't trust your own security team," Baxter asserted.

The President eyed him with derision and grinned, "Oh, I trusted them, but those two were incompetent. They failed in New Hampshire. They failed me again at that university campus."

Baxter eyed Landers and Ferrara standing at the front of the cabin. "Who else could you trust but two corrupt FBI agents?" Ferrara sneered and took a step forward but stopped in his tracks when Addams raised his hand.

Addams laughed, "Corrupt is such a dirty word, Mr. Baxter. I prefer loyal." He twisted his head and looked up at the taller man. Just who are you loyal to anyway? To whom do you answer?"

"I am loyal to the United States of America. I answer to my country and Her flag!"

Enraged Addams threw the connector onto the deck by his feet. "Don't give me that patriotic crap! I'm your Commander-in-Chief and you answer to me!"

Baxter shook his head, "You sir, are not my Commander-in-Chief!"

Landers stepped forth and announced, "Mr. President, if I may, my partner and I have ways of getting people to talk."

"Bah, there's no time for that. Not now. Cuff him and the cop to one of the seats ... and keep your eyes on them."

Wingate picked up the device Addams had thrown to the deck, studied it for a moment and asked, "Just what are these things?"

David, having already connected the other device to its port, looked up and answered, "In the simplest terms, it's like a wireless transceiver. It has been programmed to the frequency of the transmitter that your men secured earlier."

Addams let out a throaty laugh, "When it is activated, an unsuspecting army will awaken. That army will be loyal to me and to me alone!"

"Operation Butterfly Blue..." I muttered.

Stunned by Addams' tirade Wingate asked, "...And what would happen if the wrong one of these things was used?"

David flashed a toothy smile and replied, "It would result in a sensory overload. It would effectively render all of the cranial implants inoperative ... forever."

Addams' jaw dropped and he cried, "How would you possibly know what would happen?" His eyes widened in terror and he screamed, "No! Stop him!"

David flipped a switch on the panel and backed away from the console. "It is done. You cannot stop it. It cannot be reversed."

Crazed to the brink of insanity Addams screamed, "Kill them! Kill them all!"

( To be continued

The Mind Squared )

№ 2102

Jokes R.F.D.

2011-02-22T15:28:00.000-08:00

Marriage is like playing poker...In the beginning all you need are two hearts and a diamond...In the end, all you want is a club and a spade!- (Lifted from Cathy on FB)

Cletus is passing by Billy Bob's hay barn one day when, through a gap in the door, he sees Billy Bob doing a slow and sensual striptease in front of an old green John Deere.

Buttocks clenched, Billy Bob performs a slow pirouette and gently slides off first the right strap of his overalls, followed by the left.

He then hunches his shoulders forward and in a classic striptease

move, he lets his overalls fall down to his hips revealing a torn and

frayed plaid shirt.

Grabbing both sides of his shirt he rips it apart to reveal his stained

tee shirt underneath. With a final flourish he tears the tee shirt from

his body and hurls his baseball cap onto a pile of hay.

Having seen enough Cletus rushes in and says, "What the heck are you doing, Billy Bob?"

"Jeez, Cletus, ya scared the snot outta' me!" exclaims Billy Bob.

Then, obviously embarrassed, he says, "Me and the old lady been

having trouble lately in the bedroom department, and the therapist

suggested I do something sexy to a tractor."

"Darling," she whispered after they had finished making love, "Will you still make love like that to me after we're married?" He considered this for a moment, and then replied, "I think so. I've always been especially fond of married women."

A farmer was selling his peaches door to door. He knocked on a door and a shapely 30-something woman dressed in a very sheer negligee answered the door. He raised his basket to show her the peaches and asked, "Would you like to buy some peaches?"

She pulled the top of the negligee to one side and asked, "Are they as firm as this?"

He nodded his head and said, "Yes ma'am," and a little tear ran from his eye.

Then she pulled the other side of her negligee off asking, "Are they nice and pink like this?"

The farmer said, "Yes," and another tear came from the other eye.

Then she unbuttoned the bottom of her negligee and asked, "Are they as fuzzy as this?"

He again said, "Yes," and broke down crying.

She asked, "Why on earth are you crying?"

Drying his eyes he replied, "The drought got my corn, the flood got my soy beans, a tornado leveled my barn, I voted for Obama and now I think I'm gonna get screwed out of my peaches....

A man was on trial for selling drugs, and a neighbor was called as a witness. The defense attorney asked, “Did you ever get any cocaine or other drugs from the defendant?” “No sir,” answered the man. “Did you ever get any from his wife?” “No sir.” “Did you ever get any from his daughters?” “Uh–excuse me sir,” the witness said, “but we’re still talking about drugs here, right?”

Air Force One crashed in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken the Secret Service mobilized and descended on the farm in force. When they got there, the wreckage was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed with only a burned hulk left smoldering in a tree line that bordered a farm.

Secret Service descended upon the smoking hulk but could find no remains of the crew or the President's staff. To their amazement, a lone farmer was plowing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened. They hurried over to surround the man's tractor.

"Sir," the senior Secret Service agent asked, panting and out of breath. "Did you see this terrible accident happen? "

"Yep. Sure did. " The man muttered unconcernedly.

"Do you realize that is the President of the United States airplane? "

"Yep. "

"Were there any survivors? " the agent gasped.

"Nope. They's all kilt straight out. " The farmer sighed cutting off his tractor motor. "I done buried them all myself. Took most of the morning. "

"The President of the United States is dead? " The agent gulped in disbelief.

"Well," the farmer sighed, obviously wanting to get back to his work. "He kept a-saying he wasn't . . . but you know what a liar he is. "

A farmer wrote to a giant mail order company and asked the price of their toilet paper. The company wrote back and told him to look on page #287. He wrote another letter back, "If I had your catalog, I wouldn't need your toilet paper."

A farmer and his brand new bride were riding home from the chapel in a wagon pulled by a team of horses, when the older horse stumbled.

The farmer said, "That's once."

A little further along, the poor old horse stumbled again.

The farmer said, "That's twice."

After a little, while the poor old horse stumbled again.

The farmer didn't say anything, but reached under the seat, pulled out a shotgun and shot the horse.

His brand new bride yelled, telling him, "That was an awful thing to do."

The farmer said, "That's once."

№ 2101

Butterfly Dreams (48)

2011-02-18T20:07:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Synaptic Siege

Addams' eyes were wide, staring bewildered at the unfired implement in his hand. It slipped from his grasp, then he collapsed onto his knees.

A retort of two more shots reverberated throughout the confines of the small room. One struck in the forehead and the other in the chest, the President's two secret servicemen were dead before they hit the floor.

Clutching at his abdomen Addams gurgled something incomprehensible before rolling onto his side in a fetal position. His fingers twitched for several moments, a moan escaped his throat and then he lie unmoving.

Standing in the doorway, the barrels of their guns still smoking, Brock O'Day and Agents Landers and Ferrara surveyed the scene before them. They had each taken down one of the fallen men. The faces of the FBI men were without emotion, while unfettered rage showed on that of the police officer.

Horrified by the carnage David cried, "You shot him! You killed the President!"

Her body still paralyzed in the grip of fear for her own life, Faye's words tumbled from her trembling lips, "The son of a bitch was going to shoot me. He was going to shoot me!"

Brock crossed the room and looked down at her, disgust visible on his features. "Cool it, Faye. This is much bigger than you." After tucking his pistol between his belt and body, he pulled the woman to her feet and spun her around to face him. "It's about time that you got your priorities straight."

She looked over shoulder to see Baxter kneeling by the unmoving body of President Addams. It was obvious that her husband's words fell on deaf ears. "He was going to shoot me. Why?"

A sardonic grin formed shaped Brock's mouth, "You know, he just might have done me a favor."

"What?" she screeched backing away from him. "You bastard!" She was quick to regain her composure however, and raised high her chin. "He was going to appoint me to a position ... in the White House."

As I watched in silence the melodrama between the pair, it occurred to me that Faye was struggling within a delusional state of self-importance and reality. Having been married to her in my physical existence as Ben Bering I felt a slight but momentary twinge of pity for her.

As Ben I'd never been able to stand up to her, but as Michael Black I felt a liberated sense of empowerment. Arms folded across my chest I addressed her, "Faye, perhaps the position he was referring to was not the White House, but at a White Castle!"

"How dare you!" she snapped.

"People!" Jeremy Baxter shouted to gain our attention. "Why not let her get the truth from the horse's mouth?" He was holding something pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He approached Brock holding the object he'd removed from the President. Grinning he said, "Nice kill shot, Sergeant O'Day."

"You don't think I wanted to go down in history as the man who assassinated the President, do you? I just put him to sleep for a while." He tried to stifle a chuckle but could not, "Lord knows he's put a lot of people to sleep with some of his speeches."

"You're getting a lot of miles out of those tranquilizer darts, Brock," I noted. Both Landers and Ferrara were glaring at him, obviously remembering that they too had been targets of those same missiles.

O'Day patted my shoulder and said, "Thanks for playing along with our plan, Michael. I'm sure you must understand why we couldn't fill you in on the details."

I nodded and replied, "I do now. You knew that I was susceptible to their remote mind-tapping. They even tried to get at me through Susan." I turned to face Professor Jordan, "You really must explain this Persephone thing to me and this matter of ... drones!"

"Michael," Baxter interrupted, "That will have to wait. We haven't much time."

I glared at him and groaned, "There's something else you've neglected to tell me?"

"By now Wingate's men, the ones who jumped from the plane will have taken control of the main transmitter. Wingate has Susan connected to a neuro-headset on the plane ..."

Muttering Jordan hung his head, "That means Ben is also connected. He and Michelle must have walked in their trap too!"

"A trap? What trap?" I demanded. "It looks to me like we have the upper hand here."

"How's this for priorities?" Faye shouted. From the corner of my eye I caught sight of her foot slamming into Brock's groin. She stooped down by his writhing form and picked up his gun. Before any of us could make a move Landers and Ferrara swung their raised guns in our direction.

"It looks like Addams was one step ahead of us." Baxter said, "He's pulled it off like only a general could have."

Confused beyond belief I said, "But he's out of commission ... how?"

"I should have foreseen this," Jordan said mumbling to himself. "He had a fail safe contingency plan. Once he was cut off ..."

"Of course!" Baxter mused.

"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" I pleaded.

"It's like this, Mr. Black," David said as he walked past me, "once the President was disconnected from the collective mind network, we knew we were to carry out his orders as if he'd given them directly and to proceed with Operation Butterfly Blue."

"You too, David?" I said crestfallen. "You've been working for Michelle and me ... we've shared our secrets with you ..." My voice trailed off the moment the words escaped my lips.

He grinned as if to acknowledge our past relationship and took up position next to Faye and the two agents. It was then that I noticed the eyes of each of them. David's eyes were lucid, while those of Faye and the agents appeared to be glazed over, almost lifeless like those of a doll.

"Baxter, Black, the two of you pick up the President and carry him out to the plane," Landers ordered with a menacing gesture of his pistol.

David shoved Jordan toward the door, "Move it, Professor, out to the plane."

Ferrara pointed to Brock who was sitting up on the floor cupping his groin and addressed Faye, "What about your husband? What do we do with him?"

"I'll take care of him," she answered. "If he gives me any trouble, I'll shoot him." Her hands on her hips she glared down at him. "I do have my priorities ... darling!"

At that moment Wingate stepped into the room. He studied the curious scene before him but showed no visible reaction. Instead, with his chin held high he announced, "We've found her and we've established a link. Rosie Gates is now connected to our neuro-net."

"Wonderful!" David said clapping his hands. "Now all we have to do is to get the headsets on Mr. Black and the professor. Then we can activate the network!"

With my hands clutching Addams' feet and Baxter's arms wrapped around his chest we shuffled past him. I looked him in the eyes and queried, "What happens then, David?"

"To put it simply, Michael, there is going to be one helluva synaptic siege. Today the country ... tomorrow the world!"

( To be continued

Sensory Overload )

№ 2100

To Wit: Some Wit

2011-02-17T17:59:00.001-08:00

"Pogo" comic strip by Walt Kelly

The following witticisms can be found all over the web, and some of them have probably appeared here also. My apologies if you've seen them before - and if you have, feel free to enjoy them again!

Always remember you're unique, just like everyone else.

The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity. -- Albert Einstein

Knowledge speaks, but wisdom listens.

When I hear somebody sigh "Life is hard" I'm always tempted to ask "Compared to what?"

The way some people find fault, you'd think there was some kind of reward.

Ambition is a poor excuse for not having enough sense to be lazy.

Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.

An expert is one who knows more and more about less and less until he knows absolutely everything about nothing.

Those who drink to drown their sorrows should be told that sorrows know how to swim.

The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.

Love isn't only blind, it's also deaf, dumb, and stupid.

If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it.

When bosses talk about improving productivity, they are never talking about themselves.

I doubt, therefore I might be.

You cannot achieve the impossible without attempting the absurd.

The gene pool could use a little chlorine.

Cole's Axiom: The sum of intelligence on the planet is a constant. The population is growing.

№ 2099

Omphaloskepsis

2011-02-15T12:02:00.001-08:00

A month and a half of retirement has afforded me some time to practice a little omphaloskepsis. In other words, I've been contemplating the navel, after all, it is a figurative and spiritual focus for inward-looking people.

To be honest however, I've not been contemplating my navel, but rather that often exposed area of other people's anatomy. While I don't make it a habit of looking at other people's belly buttons, it is becoming increasingly difficult not to notice them.

What then evoked this post on this abdominal landmark, you might ask? You'd be right to ask because bare midriffs are by no means a recent phenomenon.

One would think that temperatures in the mid-twenties would mean that as much bare skin as possible would be covered with layers of clothing. Au contraire, mon ami.

Two young girls in their teens apparently thought that the frigid climate was ideal to display their omphalos. I'm guessing that they were proudly showing off the accessories that were perhaps just recently affixed to their bellies. That's just a guess, because the rest of their bodies, except for their faces, were protected from the elements.

I personally have no desire for my body to be punctured or otherwise mutilated, but as for those who do - it's their bodies! Bejeweled or not, what is it about the human navel that it both inspires and reviles?

As an indicator of birth, the navel is a reminder of our supposed infantile innocence. A severed link to the mother, the navel is the first mark that life leaves upon the body, a scar as unique as our fingerprint.

Since it serves no biological purpose after birth, the navel only acts as a gatherer of lint and a magnet for musings. So one who finds his or her spirituality in the center of his own body is dubbed an "omphalogian," and as a focal point of yoga poses, the navel marks the place where breath emerges, as well as the balancing point.

It should not be surprising that this all-too-human feature should be the object of scrutiny. A closer look reveals a deep history of the navel as one area of disputed terrain on the human body.

We need look no further than the 1960s when television programs were banned from showing the human navel. Both Barbara Eden of I Dream of Jeanie and Dawn Wells (Gilligan's Island) were forced to wear apparel that hid their belly buttons.

This cencorship, however, predates television. Through the centuries there has been much debate over whether Adam and Eve possessed belly buttons. As a result of such "navel" warfare, both Raphael and Michelangelo were accused of heresy for depicting Adam's navel in their paintings.

Eve Pregnant?

Of course, theologians and the faithful could not accept Adam or Eve with an umbilical remnant. That would suggest that instead of being created, they would have to have been born! According to the scriptures, God created man in his own image; if Adam had a navel, then would it follow that God had one also? Thus, any depiction or suggestion of belly buttons on the first man and woman was a threat to the teachings of the Church and could not be tolerated.

In the end, so as not to evoke the wrath of the Church, artists depicted the post-creation moment in Eden by using enlarged genital-covering fig leaves to include the belly rather than take the theologically risky stance of depicting an umbilical link between first man and woman and God.

What about the newly created trees that provided shade in the Garden of Eden? Would they have had rings?

Contemplation of the navel, or omphaloskepsis, is derived from the ancient Greek word for the navel, omphalos. For the ancient Greeks passion centered on the navel. Indeed, Omphale was the mythical queen who so powerfully personified femininity that she enslaved even the mighty Hercules.

In Hawaiian culture the navel is the primal node of heart, mind, and feelings. In India Brahma is said to have sprung out of the lotus that sprouts in the belly button of the sleeping Vishnu. Judaism associates fertility with the navel.

Halfway between the breast and genitalia, the navel is not strictly sexual, although it becomes a part of the sexual act. Even though it has no purpose but to indicate humanity, it should be remembered that where humanity treads, sexuality is never far behind.

Since You Were Afraid To Ask
Whether you end up with an "innie" or "outie" depends more on the nature of the muscles in your stomach than on your obstetrician's knotting prowess.

Sigmund Freud believed that an unraveling of a dream's meaning could be located at its navel: the place where the content of the dream connects with its psychic significance. And even Saint Thomas Aquinas recognized this doubled character of the belly button, seeing it as the "bodily metaphor for spiritual things."

For the next lesson in navel contemplation, we shall explore that citric fruit, the navel orange. The profound question must be asked:

Did the first orange actually have a navel?

Navel gazing must be considered the most profound of human activities.

(Portions of this post were lifted from several posts and articles on the web.)

№ 2098

An Arrow Thru the Heart

2011-02-14T13:44:00.001-08:00

I don't understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine's Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon. - Anonymous

A Thoughtful Valentine's Day Gift

Johnny asked his friend, Tony, whether he had bought his wife anything for Valentine's Day.

"Yes," came the answer from Tony who was a bit of a chauvinist, "I've bought her a belt and a bag."

"That was very thoughtful of you," Johnny added, "I hope she appreciated the thought."

Tony smiled as he replied, "So do I, and hopefully the vacuum cleaner will work better now."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
SINGLE BLACK FEMALE seeks male companionship for Valentine's day, ethnicity unimportant. I'm a very good kisser, and a girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cosy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. Kiss me the right way and watch me respond. I'll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me. Kiss me and I'm yours. Call (405) 865-5675 and ask for Daisy.

Over 12,000 'Romeos' phoned and found themselves talking to the Memphis Humane Society about an 7-week old Labrador retriever dog.

Men are so easy....

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

A man, obviously drunk, staggered into a bar on Valentine's Day and, after staring for some time at the only woman seated there, walked up to her and gave her kiss in honor of Valentine's Day.

She jumped up and slapped him really hard. He immediately apologized and explained, "Look, I'm sorry. I thought you were my wife. You look exactly like her."

"Why you worthless, insufferable, wretched, no good drunk!" she screamed at the top of her voice.

"Funny," the drunk muttered, shaking his head, "you even sound exactly like her."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Paul went to the shopping mall this last week to buy Valentines' cards for his daughter and mother.

The 50 feet of displays for hundreds of cards astounded him. Paul muttered out loud, "I wonder if they have anything for ex-wives?"

The shopkeeper, behind the counter said, "Oh, yes sir, they do have an "ex" category, but they're in Sporting Goods."

"Really?" queried Paul.

"Yes sir. They're called darts."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Hallmark - Rejected Valentine Greetings
10. I admire your strength, I admire your spunk / But the thing I like best, is getting you drunk.

9. Our love will never become cold and hollow / Unless, one day, you refuse to swallow.

8. I bought this Valentine`s card at the store / In hopes that, later, you`d be my whore.

7. This feels so good, it feels so right / I just wish it wasn't $250 a night.

6. You're a woman of style, you're a woman of class / Especially when I'm spanking, your big-round-fat ass.

5. Before I met you, my heart was so famished / But now I'm fulfilled.. . SO MAKE ME A SANDWICH!!

4. Through all the things that came to pass / Our love has grown.. . but so's your ass.

3. You're a honey.. . and you're a cutie / I just wished you had J-Lo's "booty".

2. I don`t wanna be sappy or silly or corny / So, right to the point, let's do it, I'm horny!

1. If you think that hickey looks like a blister / You should check out the one that I gave to your sister!

♥ ♥ ♥ Happy Valentine's Day ♥ ♥ ♥

№ 2097

No Sweat !

2011-02-13T14:46:00.000-08:00

When I recently came across a blog with "crabbyoldfart" in its URL, I thought to myself that it merited some serious checking out. I was right!

He has written several posts that had me musing ... I wish I'd written that ...

It's the first blog in a while that I felt compelled to recommend for my readers to check out. If you remember and liked the postings of Old Hoss, Gene Maudlin, then you're going to enjoy the works of Donald Mills.

I'm using the site's title as a convenient link: The Problem With Young People Today Is ...

The following is a copy & paste of one of his recent posts. (I added a couple of pics and some boldface font, but otherwise it is as it appeared on his site. Enjoy.

Repost: Affronts to Old People – Sweatpants with Words on the Ass

by Donald Mills

(My apologies but I’ve been off my pegs this week and haven’t been able to muster the energy to write a new post.)

One of the most outrageous assaults young people have committed on common decency has to be the practice of having words written across the ass of their sweats pants.

I see it everywhere. Inane and distasteful words like “Angel”, “Princess” and “Hottie” printed across the prodigious backsides of young people. It’s moronic and indecent.

Just this morning I was confronted with the disturbing sight of a young woman with the word “bootylicious” scrawled across her derriere. I don’t know what the Hell it means but I stand by my assertion that if your ass is large enough to accommodate a twelve letter word it may not be a feature you wish to draw additional attention to.

I may not be able to stop this atrocious practice, but if it is going to continue I suggest any one of the following 10 words/phrases might be more appropriate to display on your young rumps:

“Lazy”

That’s right. “Lazy.” If you don’t have the energy to pull on sensible trousers and do up a zipper for God’s sake, you may as well come clean about it and admit that you’re a shiftless, indolent lay-about. People may not respect your choice of apparel but they’ll appreciate your honesty damn it.

“MacDonalds”

They likely had a hand in building that giant ass you’re so intent on decorating, so you may as well give them credit for a job well done. They may even give you a free “Whoppler” as their way of saying thanks.

“Back”

The way I see it, this is damned practical and not unlike writing left and right on the shoes of dullards and toddlers. At least the word “back” serves a purpose and will help these young people get their pants on right side around. It’s a small thing but a step in the right direction.

“Oblivious”

You don’t need to understand why. In fact, its likely better that you don’t.

“Kick Me”

I’m all about motivation and my guess is that if you enjoy word-enhanced sweat pants you’re likely on an express train to nowhereville and would benefit from a good old fashioned kick in the ass.

“Have You Seen This Child?”

If you walk around in sweat pants all day you likely have parole conditions to fulfill and community service may be part of that equation. Here’s a chance for you to give something back and help people locate missing children. Milk cartons get stuck in the fridge but your giant ass seems to be everywhere so slap a picture of a missing kid on it and do some good for a change, damn it.

“My Other Ass Fits In Real Pants”

For no reason other than it makes me chuckle.

“The End is Nigh”

If there was ever a sign that the Four Horseman are mounting up and getting ready to ride it’s the preponderance of young people with the word “juicy” written on their backsides. You may as well get the word out that we are all going to Hell and that the bus is leaving soon.

“Unemployable”

Time for some truth in advertising, damn it. Plus, as an added bonus, it may dissuade other impressionable young people from heading down this ill-advised road, venturing over to “Target” and perusing the “fornicating teen department” for similar attire.

“This Space for Rent”

Look, if you’re going to parade around like a jiggling billboard you may as well try to generate some income from it. I’m sure there must be some gelatin companies or cottage cheese makers looking for cheap and easy advertising opportunities and your ass may be right up their alley.

I hope that these suggestions will be helpful to you young folks. The other option of course is just to start wearing sensible clothing and stop dressing like a dyslexic, bootylicious prostitute.

Damned young people. They make me crazy.

№ 2096

Butterfly Dreams (47)

2011-02-11T00:07:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Executive Decision

I was no more surprised than the others when the President stepped into the room. Clad in jeans and a polo shirt Vincent T. Addams' attire was not exactly becoming of that of a world leader.

His eyes hidden by dark sunglasses beneath the bill of a baseball cap, it was obvious that he was traveling incognito and his presence was unofficial. Unlike most Presidential excursions, there would be no press coverage of this trip.

At first he gave little regard to us but spoke directly to the officer standing at unwavering attention by the door. "Colonel Wingate, have your men escort these two FBI agents out of here. They do not have the security clearance to hear anything that will be said here."

Agent Landers stepped forth, "Mr. President, we were assigned to investigate a possible threat to you. Why are we being held?"

His reply was terse, "There is no longer a threat. Your investigation is complete. You will meet with my security detachment to be debriefed."

"But, Mr. President," Ferrara protested, "we have not yet received orders from the director to shut down."

With an air of annoyed arrogance President Addams walked over to the agent and studied him for a moment. He then pressed the bill of his cap against the man's forehead and said, "I see that you are familiar with the concept of the chain of command, agent. You obviously answer to the Director of the FBI, James Saunders." He took a step backward and grinned, "Well, Saunders answers to me."

Realizing his exchange with the President was finished, he nodded and lowered his head in silent defeat. The two agents offered no resistance as a pair of armed airmen led them from the room.

Removing his opaque glasses he addressed those of us who remained, "You'll have to pardon the ... ah ... casual appearance, gentlemen. As for my unannounced arrival here at this base, it never happened. For the record, I'll be at Camp David for a few days of rest with a touch of the flu."

"So, Mr. President," Professor Jordan said with measured sarcasm, "is it safe for us to assume that we weren't here either ... for the record?"

Addams removed his cap and ran his fingers through his wavy hair. He ignored Jordan's query and glared at him. "Professor Jordan, I have to admit that I underestimated you. How is that Bishop King's lackey could cause me so much grief? Clever, very clever and, I might add, quite timely of you to move Rosie Gates when you did."

I spun around and faced the professor, "You? You were behind that?" Rage turning my face beet red I grabbed the lapels of his jacket, "Where is she? What did you do with her?"

"Back off, Mr. Black," Wingate said stepping between us and pushing me aside, "If he knew, he certainly wouldn't be telling you in the presence of me or the President."

Addams cleared his throat and grumbled, "What am I going to do with you, Jordan? You've really caused me one hell of a P.R. mess! The spin doctors will be working overtime to fix it."

"Good luck to them," Jordan grinned, "trying to explain to the public how the man who died trying to assassinate you is alive and well and is out there kidnapping people."

I was impressed how both men were able to verbally spar with one another and yet maintain their dual personae. While Jordan knew that the mind of the deceased Julius Gates occupied the mind of President Vincent Addams, I wondered if Gates suspected that the late Bishop King's mind had been supplanted into that of the professor.

"Resurrecting Ben Bering and his girl friend, Susan Parsons ..." Addams mused aloud, "...it never occurred to me that they might have had twin siblings. Yes, it was quite clever of you to unleash the Persephone drones."

"Drones?" I gasped. "Susan and Ben ... are drones?"

The President faced me and grinned, "Ah, Mr. Black! It would appear that King has kept you in the dark. He left you and your wife his company and his vast fortune, but not all of his secrets. Apparently in some matters, he chose to confide instead with the good professor here."

Jordan flashed a defiant grin, "I'd say that it was a good thing that he did just that!"

"That you would say, professor, that you would. However, I have at my disposal a few men who are quite adept at extracting information from those who are less than cooperative," Addams chortled.

"Unless I'm mistaken," asserted Baxter, who'd been quiet until that moment, "water boarding has been outlawed."

Addams spun around and pointed a finger at him, "You! You've been one god damned thorn in my side! Don't think for a minute that you're going to escape a very lengthy and intense interrogation session."

"Speaking of the interrogations, Mr. President," said Wingate, "shall I prepare the neuro-headsets now?"

"That's affirmative, Colonel," he replied. He looked Jordan in the eyes and added, "On your way out send my security team here and have them bring the O'Day woman."

"No!" Jordan barked. "Leave her out of this. She doesn't know anything."

"How quaint," Addams countered. "Your paternal instincts betray your gruff exterior. She doesn't know anything? My dear professor, she's in this up to her eyeballs."

"So, it's come to this," I said, "the President of the United States is going to give the order for the torture of a helpless woman?"

"Give the order? No, Mr. Black, that I'm going to handle myself," Addams responded flashing a toothy smile. "Let's just call it an executive decision."

The door swung open and Faye, her hands bound, stumbled into the room. Two men in dark suits with guns drawn marched in behind her. I arched my eyebrows as I gazed upon their faces. They were the same two men who had been pursuing myself and Michelle on the Northeastern University campus two days earlier.

"What's the meaning of this?" Faye screeched.

Addams waved an open hand at the nearest secret serviceman. Nodding the man placed his gun in his commander's hand and stepped aside. The President deftly cocked the weapon and raised it in the direction of the woman.

"It means, Mrs. O'Day, that it was you who leaked the information about Operation Butterfly Blue," Addams growled. "I am at a loss as to why would you tell Colonel Wingate where Rosie Gates was located and then turn around and reveal our plans to the professor."

"Rosie's my sister!" she whimpered. "I thought I could trust the colonel. He said he'd make sure she remained safe."

"Thinking never was one of your strong suits, Faye," he sniped.

The next sound was the thunderous crack of the pistol as his finger squeezed the trigger.

( To be continued

Synaptic Siege )

№ 2095

An App a Day Keeps the Priest Away

2011-02-08T20:23:00.001-08:00

Bless me iPhone for I have sinned.

I'm not a Catholic, but I portray a husband married to one in real life. In that role I have found some of the Catholic Church's ways of doing things strange. Of course, that is because I wasn't brought up Catholic. I never converted, but honored my wife's wishes that our daughter be brought up in that faith.

This news has REALLY given me pause to vigorously scratch my head and say "what the ... heck?"

Said Patrick Leinen of the company Little iApps based in South bend Indiana, "Our desire is to invite Catholics to engage in their faith through digital technology. Taking to heart Pope Bendict XVI's message from last year's World Communications Address, our goal with this project is to offer a digital application that is truly 'new media at the service of the world.'"

Although it has been sanctioned by the Catholic Church in the United States, it is not designed to replace going to confession but to help Catholics through the act, which generally involves admitting sins to a priest in a confessional booth. They will still have to go a priest for absolution.

The Catholic Church has sanctioned an app that allows its faithful to confess their sins via iPhone! Interesting that the Church still admonishes birth control, but yet is willing to embrace a technology that would allow someone to be sitting on a bar stool and text a confession. Who would've ever thought that a pub could one day serve as a confessional booth?

I can almost visualize some man's possible text or tweeter confessions:

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I lusted for the cocktail waitress."

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I have committed adultery with a girl I met at a bar.

Women would want to use this app too.

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. I picked up that stud bartender and slept with him last night."

I wonder, what kind of absolution would a priest give to those confessions? Forgive me, for I couldn't help this:

"Have two Bloody Marys and sin no more."

What other technology might the church accept next? Automated Confession Booths?

Well, how can I poke fun at a Confession iPhone app with out posting some "borrowed" Confessional jokes?

☺ ☺ ☺ ☺ ☺

There was this catholic teenager who goes to confession, and after

confessing to having an affair with a teenage girl is told by the

priest that he cannot forgive this terrible sin if the boy doesn't

tell who the girl is.

The boy says "Aw father, I promised not to tell."

"Was it Mary Particia, the Butcher's daughter?"

"Come on father, no it wasn't and I wont tell."

"Was it Mary Elizabeth, the printer's daughter?"

"No, and I still won't tell."

"Was it Mary Francis, the baker's daughter?"

"No, it wasn't and I really can't tell you who."

"Well, son, I have no choice but to excommunicate you for six months."

The boy's friend meets him afterwards outside the church and asks him
how it went:

"Well, I got six months on the outside, but three good leads!"

☺ ☺ ☺ ☺ ☺
A drunken man staggers in to a Catholic church, sits down in a confession
box and says nothing.

The bewildered priest coughs to attract his attention, but still the man
says nothing.

The priest then knocks on the wall three times in a final attempt to get
the man to speak.

Finally, the drunk replies: "No use knockin' mate, there's no paper in
this one either."

№ 2094

The Fishin' Hole

2011-02-05T10:13:00.000-08:00

This is not one of those things that I didn't know but was afraid to ask. In my case, it's one of those things I didn't know, but never thought to ask.

Who was the whistler?

It's probably one of the most recognizable of TV theme songs. Thanks to syndicated reruns, the program has transcended the generations and continues to draw viewers.

Andy Griffith Show Theme Song

I decided to look it up to find the name of the person who was whistling during the opening credits of the program. That's when I learned for the first time that there were actually lyrics for the tune! Titled, The Fishin' Hole, the following video is a recording of Andy Griffith himself singing the song.

The Andy Griffith Show Theme Song Lyrics

The Fishin' Hole
Well, now, take down your fishin' pole and meet me at The Fishin' Hole,
We may not get a bite all day, but don't you rush away.

What a great place to rest your bones and mighty fine for skippin' stones,
You'll feel fresh as a lemonade, a-settin' in the shade.

Whether it's hot, whether it's cool, oh what a spot for whistlin' like a fool.

What a fine day to take a stroll and wander by The Fishin' Hole,
I can't think of a better way to pass the time o' day.

We'll have no need to call the roll when we get to The Fishin' Hole,
There'll be you, me, and Old Dog Trey, to doodle time away.

If we don't hook a perch or bass, we'll cool our toes in dewy grass,
Or else pull up a weed to chaw, and maybe set and jaw.

Hangin' around, takin' our ease, watchin' that hound a-scratchin' at his fleas.

Come on, take down your fishin' pole and meet me at The Fishin' Hole,
I can't think of a better way to pass the time o' day.

Music by Earle Hagen & Herbert W. Spencer
Words by Everett Sloane

While looking for the elusive name of the whistler, I found that are many avian characters out there who are quite adept at "covering" the tune.

So? Who was the whistler?

As it turns out, the identity of the whistler is indeed elusive. The majority of the sites I visited give credit to Earl Hagen, the composer of the music. According to one site, Mr. Hagen with his son snapping his fingers in the background came up with the whistling tune in a one-hour recording session.

There are references to two other possible whistlers, Fred Lowrey and Jerry Duane.

Lowrey, a recording artist, was the most successful whistler of the 40s and 50s. His whistling is heard in such recordings as "Indian Love Call" and "Tumbling Tumbleweeds." His credentials certainly make him worthy of consideration.

Duane, despite his claims as being the whistler, appears to be a red herring in this fact-finding exercise. He is cited as being known for whistling in Pepsi and Old Spice commercials.

So, I decided to look into the links for the Old Spice commercials. There, I found that Jean "Toots" Thilemans whistled for the fragrance product. There was no mention of Jerry Duane.

It seemed that "Toots" Thielemans had a lot of credits to his name. Scanning the article on this man ...

... Uh-oh!

He is the whistler of the theme of The Andy Griffith Show!!

By the way, and for the record, I learned all of these accurate facts without using Wikipedia.

So? Just who was the whistler?

To my way of thinking, I'm going to eliminate the least likely of the names - Jerry Duane. He strikes me as a man who is a very good whistler and who tries to get attention by claiming it is he who is heard on the TV show. Just my humble opinion.

I think also that I'll cross off the names of the two professional recording artists, Lowrey and Thielemans. Why? If either of these men were given credit, then they would be entitled to receive royalties. Even at a rate of pennies, that number times the number of times the program has run since it originally aired and the number of times it has aired in syndication ... would earn the artist quite a few Benjamins.

Now, if I was the song writer who would receive his own royalties, why not be credited as the artist also? Makes sense to me.

While I'm not generally given to let my imagination run wild, I don't think I want to rule out the bird! After all, what would Polly want? Crackers?

Hmmm ... It turns out that, conclusively, I'm no closer to the real identity of the whistler than I was when I started.

You know what? I'm think I'll just ... take down my fishin' pole and meet Andy at The Fishin' Hole.

№ 2093

Butterfly Dreams (46)

2011-02-03T15:24:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

A Helluva Plan

Still coughing and all but blinded from the tear gas, I heard the cargo ramp being lowered in the back cabin. Just moments later Brock was helping me to my feet and guiding me to the rear of the plane.

His escape plan was flawed I knew. Wingate and his men would've heard the ramp being lowered and they would be waiting for us at its foot, but there was no way we could remain on the plane.

"Brock," I sputtered, "why didn't give up before? You could've spared us being gassed."

"You'll have to trust me," he replied with muffled voice. He patted my backside as if to tell me that he was in control of the situation.

I felt his hand pushing against my back. Caught off balance, I was suddenly stumbling out of control down the ramp toward he tarmac. Although I was staggering somehow I managed to stay on my feet when I came in contact with level ground.

There was a loud crack and the surface next to my foot exploded in a spray of gypsum fragments. As I feared, Wingate and his men had been waiting at the base of the ramp. I turned and raised my hands above my head.

"Colonel Wingate!" O'Day shouted. "Black is secured."

"Wh ... What are you doing?" I stammered. Although blurred my vision was beginning to return to normal. Through squinting eyes I could see Brock coming down the ramp. His drawn gun was in one hand while the other was pulling something from his head. It was a gas mask.

"Well done, O'Day!" Wingate declared as he stepped into view from around the side of the plane. "Lock him up with the others."

Brock's only response to my stunned glare was to wave his still smoking pistol in the direction of the nearby building. He showed a toothy grin and flashed a curious flutter in one eye. I couldn't help but wonder if it was a cursory wink intended for my eyes only, but I decided not to physically react to the gesture. I mimicked his grin and said, " A helluva plan!"

The Games People Play
When the door closed and locked behind me I studied the faces of my fellow prisoners. Although my vision was somewhat blurred I recognized Baxter, Professor Jordan, David, and the two FBI agents, Landers and Ferrara. Noticeably absent were Susan and Faye.

"The women?" I asked.

"I would gather that they were separated from us for reasons other than that of courtesy," Baxter responded.

"I'm sure," I nodded, "but it's those other reasons that are worrying me."

Landers approached me and waved his arms in the direction of the other detainees. "I'm getting nothing from these people. Perhaps you, Mr. Black, would care to tell me what in the hell is going on."

"Agent Landers, it's all about this," I said tapping my finger on my forehead. "It's all about the mind, the human mind. Control the mind, you control the man. Control the man and you control the world."

"I'm sick and tired of all this crap about mind control!" espoused an angry Ferrara. "It's time for the White House to step in and squash these people!"

Professor Jordan's sarcastic chuckle seemed to ruffle Ferrara's feathers even more. The hair on his neck bristling he shouted at the old man, "You think this is funny? Do think it's all a game?"

Folding his arms across his chest the professor replied sternly, "A very dangerous game, Agent Ferrara. Who do you think is rolling the dice, but Washington?" He fingered the corner of his mustache and looked at each of us in turn. "We, gentlemen, are merely pawns."

I regarded Ferrara for a moment and then turned my attention to his partner. "Landers, do you honestly think that Michelle and I are responsible for all of this ... this conspiracy?"

He shook his head, "Solely? No. But it hit the fan when the two of you sent that e-mail to that reporter Bering."

Perhaps to interrupt the tension in the room David launched himself into an unceremonious and off-key rendition of an old Joe South song. "Oh the games people play now ... ev'ry night and ev'ry day now ... never meaning what they say, yeah ... never saying what they mean." Realizing he had a less than enthralled audience he blushed and stammered, "S-sorry. It just came to me ... just how appropriate those lyrics are ... given our current predicament."

"Speaking of games," Ferrara growled, "just what kind of game is your buddy O'Day playing? He sure picked one helluva time to switch sides."

"Allow me to shed some light on that matter," Baxter interjected. "Brock O'Day once served with Wingate, under the command of General Julius Gates."

"We know all about his military service," interrupted Landers, "but that was in Vietnam over forty years ago. As my partner was hinting at, why has he waited until now to crawl back in bed with him?"

"Wingate and O'Day share a certain kinship. They're both soldiers, part of a brotherhood," Baxter replied. He studied their faces for a moment and continued, "I've seen your dossiers. You and Ferrara never served in the military and as such would not understand that bond. Wingate needed someone with whom he could relate and trust and that someone was O'Day."

"Wait a minute!" Ferrara snapped. "Brotherhood or not, that doesn't explain why O'Day would take up arms with the enemy."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," harrumphed Professor Jordan, "perhaps we'd be better served asking ourselves just who the enemy might be..."

"Indeed," Baxter asserted.

He faced me and I caught sight of the briefest flutter of his left eyelid. It was the same gesture I'd noticed from Brock out on the tarmac. Perhaps, I thought suppressing a grin, Brock's plan was a good one after all.

There was a sudden roar of engines somewhere outside. It was the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching the complex. From the proximity of the whining engines it was obvious that the craft was about to land next to the building in which we were imprisoned.

Beyond the locked door there arose a cacophony of excited activity replete with shouts and hurried footfalls. Wingate's voice could be heard above it all. The orders he was barking were interlaced with colorful obscenities. The chorused replies, obvious military affirmatives, were sharp and left little doubt of who was in charge.

The door swung open to reveal Colonel Wingate in his full dress uniform. Standing at stiff attention he bellowed, "Gentlemen, prepare to receive your Commander-in-Chief."

( To be continued

Executive Decision )

№ 2092

Punxsutawney Phil Says Early Spring

2011-02-02T10:38:00.000-08:00

Nuff said !

№ 2091

Chariots of the Household Gods

2011-01-31T15:34:00.001-08:00

The cacophony of the charging warriors upon the battlefield resonated long into the day. As if some impending doom might smite them, these soldiers were hellbent on the success of their holy crusades. Woe be to he who stood in their path.

This Charge of the Light-headed Brigade was not for the pursuit of some elusive Holy Grail, it was not being mounted to recapture usurped homelands, and it was not a call to arms to appease their gods. Nay, their quest was being fueled by the need for survival.

Onward through a phalanx of chariots they laid siege upon the unprotected stores. They raided the shopkeeper's larders, hoarded the fruits and vegetables of the farmers' gardens and claimed the meats of their livestock. They pillaged the dairies and sacked the bakeries. Hungry for more spoils of war, they ran gauntlet after gauntlet to amass even more booty.

The combatants cursed those charioteers who might veer into their path. The weaker of the enemies were forced to yield to the skill of the fastest and to the power of the strongest. Seasoned warriors, veterans of such wars, see these encounters as mere skirmishes.

There are no standard bearers - no flags furled or unfurled rise above these chariots of the household gods.

These soldiers wear no armor or suits made of chain-mail. Their battledress is as varied as individuals themselves. They are not armed with lances, spears or arrows - but nonetheless, they are heavily armed.

They carry weapons of great power - cash, credit cards, debit cards and even food stamps.

They are driven by words of the doomsayers, the seers and the oracles. Are these purveyors of doom wizards? In days of yore, they might have been thought to have mystical powers. In the present times, however, they who spur these crusades are known as meteorologists.

Thus it has come to pass that these prognosticators of the weather have set into motion the marauding hordes who are bearing down upon the establishments to purchase their goods.

When it comes to weathermen and weather-women, is it me, or do they seem to regale in nasty weather forecasts? They do not seem to be as enthusiastic when the weather is going to be sunny and fair. However, when it comes to a blizzard - it looks like some of them get rather ... orgasmic!

Beaming from ear to ear, the meteorologists are once again spreading their cheer.

Before sunrise tomorrow, Tuesday, February 1, snow will begin falling in parts of New England. By the time the sun sets there will be 6 inches of the white stuff piled up on the remnants of last week's 11 inches.

If that forecast wasn't bad enough, he all but danced a jig as added a caveat - there will be more snow on Wednesday.

(If he is at all able to see over the snowbanks, I don't think the groundhog is going to like what awaits him.)

The forecast for Wednesday? Snow all day - to the tune of 18 inches !!!

This afternoon my wife and I were among those warriors charging through the throngs behind our chariot. We fought the heavier than usual traffic to and from the grocery store. We foraged at the fast-emptying shelves and displays cases. We endured the torture of the long checkout lines.

There's a good chance that I'll be spending most of the day Thursday shoveling, digging us out. We might end up being housebound until Friday. Like any warring faction, we had to stock up to endure Mother Nature's siege.

№ 2090

Butterfly Dreams (45)

2011-01-26T16:19:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Out Minded

Brock hefted his service revolver from one hand to the other. Craning his head in my direction and then to the exit door, it was obvious that he was weighing his options.

His eyes narrowing into slits he grunted, "How's the headache? You able to function?"

"I'll live," I replied warily before realizing what he was implying. "Why are you stalling? You can't be thinking of blasting your way out of this mess."

Wingate's voice rang out again, "You are trying my patience, O'Day."

"Nothing as hair-brained as that," he gloated ignoring the threat from outside. "But I do have an idea ... and it just might work too."

I shook my head in disbelief that he thought there was a way out of our situation using force. To my way of thinking, at that moment surrender was the best option. We would have a far better chance of coming up with a means of escape as live prisoners than as corpses.

It was Baxter who was next heard, "Michael, Brock ... the colonel is serious."

A tense pounding grew behind my eyes when Michelle shouted, "Please, Michael. As long as you're on that plane, I cannot protect you."

"Brock," I pleaded, "this is an Air Force base. It must be Nellis. There must be dozens of armed airmen out there."

"Nellis? Nellis is over 800 miles as the crow flies from here. We're in Amarillo, my friend."

Stunned I muttered, "Amarillo? Texas? Are you sure?"

He gave a slight nod of the head, "I know there are no wind farms in operation in the Vegas area. I caught sight of them when we turned into the landing pattern. The only wind turbines near a desert and an airbase that I know of are part of the Wildorado Wind Ranch outside of Amarillo."

I took a deep breath and tried to digest Brock's words. "We were supposed to hook up in Las Vegas. What is Michelle doing here? Why is she helping Wingate?"

O'Day's eyes widened and he barked, "Michelle? What makes you think she's here?"

I glanced at the bloodied welt on the side of his neck, "Did that shot affect your hearing? You didn't hear her voice out there?"

A quizzical look on his face, he remained silent for a few moments before responding. "No, I didn't hear her. Michael, that headache ... someone is trying to get in your head. You're being out-minded!"

There was a sudden thump as something struck the side of the entrance. The object careened toward the front of the cabin, rolled on the floor and came to rest next to the door to the cockpit area. There was a hiss of escaping pressure from the cylinder followed by a billowing cloud of grayish smoke.

"Tear gas!" Brock yelped. "Haul ass to the back of the plane!"

It was at that moment that another one of the objects clattered against the interior of the plane. Hurled from a different angle than the first, it bounced along the decking toward the back of the cabin.

Choking on the first wisps of the spreading cloud O'Day blubbered, "Close your eyes and try not to breathe, Michael. Work your way to the back cabin. Hurry!"

Too late his warnings, the large gulp of air I swallowed was already burning a path from my throat to my lungs. The involuntary defensive action of my tear ducts did little to ease the searing irritation in my eyes.

I felt a sudden vice-like grip on my arm. My body, weak and limp like that of a rag doll, was being dragged to the aft section of the plane. Even as the door to the back cabin slammed shut, a convulsive eruption wracked my body and the ejected sputum splattered on the floor next to my face.

Although his voice sounded muted O'Day shouted, "Lie still. You need fresh air. I'll open the cargo ramp and get you out of here."

( To be continued

A Helluva Plan )

№ 2089

Six Years and Still Ticking

2011-01-20T20:27:00.000-08:00

It just occurred to me that back on January 20, 2005, six years ago to date, I posted for the first time to a blog site which I named: "It Occurred To Me."

For the better part of those six years the hammer in my profile has been relentlessy pounding on the head of one stubborn nail.

Viewing myself as the hammer and the keyboard as the nail, it has been an on-going and enjoyable project. This, my 2088th posting, is intended as a reflection of what this site means to me - what it began as and what it has become.

Below the blog title, it reads:

My feelings, beliefs, and/or ideas about just about anything. These may not agree with you, and that is okay. Nothing I say or imply is meant to offend. Allow me to hammer home my points. Satire is my cause and humor is my sword and pen.

I've never felt a need to rewrite those words, because that mantra, if you will, still holds true. That's not to say that my writings have not evolved. They have. As for my feelings, beliefs, and/or ideas - perhaps they have been at least ... tweaked ... by an ever-changing world.

There have been times that I've felt as if I were on the brink of burnout - not only from suffering from bouts of writer's block, but from having my head so full of ideas that nothing could be committed to a post!

It was at those times when the creative juices weren't flowing that I began to "harvest" material from the web to post here. When using this "copy-and-paste" method of plagiarism, I have always tried to give credit to the source either by hyperlink or by mention of a name. Of course this isn't always possible when the material is received in an e-mail, as the source is often omitted.

This past weekend my site meter hit 500,000! Although I had been aware that number would soon be hit, when I saw it I said to myself, "Wow! That's a half-million visits to my site." Applying a little math to the numbers, that means that over those six years, I've been averaging a little over 315 hits per day!

To those 500,000+ visitors - yes, I realize that many of those are return visitors - THANK YOU! I must be doing something ~~write~~ right.

It catches my attention ... it relaxes my mind ... it inspires me ... watching my kitten play with some red yard.

Really, readers, if that was my kitten, do you think I'd be sitting here typing, trying to compose this narrative?

If you are offended by that picture ... remember that satire is my cause and humor is my sword and pen.

Yes, much of my work is of an adult nature. I can only assume that most of the readers who visit here are adults. I've poked fun at religion and do not pretend to be pious. I've kicked literary sand in the faces of politicians without showing partisan favoritism. Some of my posts have had me walking on thin ice between being a gentleman and a chauvinist. While not bigoted, I have thrown some jabs at ethnic groups.

What will the seventh year bring? I started this blog to be a collection of humor, and I intend to keep the focus in that area.

Having said that, since July of 2006, with the posting of the short story, Talking To the Walls, I have posted 12 other works of fiction with a 14th in progress. While I'm not sure exactly in length (number of words) what constitutes a short story and a novella, my works of fiction probably fall somewhere between the two.

There will come a time, when I feel I have built up a sufficient body of work, that I will explore the idea of publishing these stories. (I think it will be sooner than later, especially now that I'm retired.)

If you've read into the last paragraph that I have more stories in my head - you'd be right. I might even consider drafting a few stories for publication and not post them here.

In closing, I hope that no matter the content, I will be still be blogging whenever it occurs to me, for many more years to come.

№ 2088

After 20 Days - Still Retired

2011-01-19T00:01:00.000-08:00

There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want. - Bill Watterson

----------------------------------------------

Old Faithful
My nookie days are over, my pilot light is out.

What used to be my sex appeal, is now my water spout.

Time was when, of its own accords, from my trousers it would spring.

but now I have a full time job, just to find the blasted thing.

It used to be embarrassing, the way it would behave.

For every single morning, it would stand and watch me shave.

But now as old age approaches, it sure gives me the blues.

To see it hang its withered head, and watch me tie my shoes.

-----------------------------------------------------

Retirement is the time when you never do all the things you intended to do when you were still working. - Anonymous

---------------------------------------------------------

It's Better Than a Watch!
The neighborhood postman was retiring after 25 years.

On his last day of delivering mail, all of the people on his route left him something in the mail box in honor of his retirement. Some left money, some left small gifts, and some met him at the door and invited him in for a meal. This went on all through the neighborhood.

As he proceeded through his route, the gifts got better and better. One house even gave him a gold watch!

He was so satisfied, but the last house paled in comparison.

As he was putting the mail in the mailbox, the door opened, and the woman of the house stood there in beautiful lingerie. She invited him inside.

He knew that this woman's husband was a truck driver and was away, so he went inside.

She proceeded to give him the day and night of his life.

The next morning he woke up to find she was bringing him breakfast in bed.

He found a dollar bill under his plate as he ate and asked her about it.

She explained, "When I called my husband to tell ask him what we should give you for your retirement, he said, 'screw him, give him a dollar.' Breakfast was my idea."

Daydreaming

I Heard You
An elderly gentleman had serious hearing problems for a number of years. He went to the doctor and the doctor was able to have him fitted for a set of hearing aids that allowed the gentleman to hear 100%. The elderly gentleman went back in a month to the doctor and the doctor said, 'Your hearing is perfect. Your family must be really pleased that you can hear again.'

The gentleman replied, 'Oh, I haven't told my family yet. I just sit around and listen to the conversations. I've changed my will three times!'

---------------------------------------------------------

You Know You're Retired ...
# There are three signs of old age. The first is your loss of memory. I forget the other two.

# You're getting old when you don't care where your spouse goes, just as long as you don't have to go along.

# Middle age is when work is a lot less fun - and fun is a lot more work.

# Statistics show that at the age of seventy, there are five women to every man. Now isn't that a great time for a guy to get those kind of odds?

# You know you're getting on in years when the girls at the office start confiding in you.

# Middle age is when it takes longer to rest than to get tired.

# Middle age is when you have stopped growing at both ends, and have begun to grow in the middle.

# You know you're into middle age when you realize that caution is the only thing you care to exercise.

# You're getting old when you wake up with that morning-after feeling, and you didn't do anything the night before!

# The cardiologist's diet: if it tastes good, spit it out.

# It's hard to be nostalgic when you can't remember anything.

# When you lean over to pick something up off the floor, you ask yourself if there is anything else you need to do while you are down there.

-----------------------------------------------------

PEOPLE OVER 50

Q: Where can women over the age of 50 find young, sexy men, who are interested in them?
A: Try a bookstore under fiction.

Q: What can a man do while his wife is going through menopause?
A: Keep busy. If you're handy with tools, you can finish the basement. When you are done you will have a place to live.

Q: How can you increase the heart rate of your 50+ year old husband?
A: Tell him you're pregnant.

Q: How can you avoid spotting a wrinkle every time you walk by a mirror?
A: The next time you're in front of a mirror, take off your glasses.

Q: Why should 50+ year old people use valet parking?
A: Valets don't forget where they park your car.

Q: Is it common for 50+ year olds to have problems with short-term memory storage?
A: Storing memory is not a problem; retrieving it is a problem.

Q: As people age, do they sleep more soundly?
A: Yes, but usually in the afternoon.

Q: Where do 50+ year olds look for fashionable glasses?
A: Their foreheads.

Q: What is the most common remark made by 50+ year olds when they enter antique stores?
A: "I remember these."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Even Retired Men Like Exotic Dancers

№ 2087

Butterfly Dreams (44)

2011-01-18T00:02:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Enter the Traitor

The sound of the landing gear being lowered could be heard beneath us and I tightened my grip on the armrest in anticipation of its contact with the tarmac. The huge military aircraft may have been sufficient for the armed forces, but its attention to passenger comfort fell short of its commercial cousins.

There was a series of jolts when each set of the jet's wheels met the earth. The whine of the engines being powered down resonated throughout the craft as it taxied along the tarmac.

Although Baxter was still training the pistol on him, I was studying Wingate's composure. When he looked about at each of us there was a menacing scowl on his face, except when his eyes fell upon Faye O'Day. When their eyes met, the furrows of his brow became less apparent.

As for Faye, her countenance had remained stoic. Even when the colonel glanced in her direction, she sat in silence and stared straight ahead. For someone who only minutes before had been enraged at the man who would've killed her along with the all the passengers on the plane, she was sitting across from him with a remarkably calm demeanor.

I didn't like it. I couldn't help but think that her actions were all too convenient. While the other passengers up front had been asleep under the influence of Wingate's drug, why had she waited until that precise moment to enter our cabin? Coincidence? I didn't think so, it was too perfect.

In the past year I had experienced more than enough treachery on Faye's part to allow myself to tender any trust in her. Cringing I tried to suppress the memory that I'd even been married to the woman! The memory of that union spawned a pain at bridge of my nose, between my eyes.

After we'd divorced, I'd sworn I would never get married again. Yet, as I looked over at her, I couldn't help but think that perhaps there was a chance we could start anew. She was looking back at me with a warm smile. Maybe, just maybe she felt the same way.

It must have been a middle-aged crisis thing. That young woman, Susan ... she was half my age! What was I thinking? Wait! That was part of my cover. I was working on a story to expose an underground pornography ring, which was operating under the name of Butterfly Blue. I'd seen the scathing video tapes. The participants, unwilling as I had discovered, had been subjected to mind-altering drugs.

Because high-ranking officials had been involved, the Globe was threatened with libel suits. So it was that the paper decided to kill the story, to suppress it. The two whistle-blowers, Mr. Black and Ms Gray, had been summarily discredited.

Brock O'Day appeared in the doorway and announced, "It's time to get off this crate. What are you waiting for?"

I looked around and found myself alone in the cabin. I rubbed my forehead and muttered, "I just had a migraine attack. It must have been all those beers and the altitude."

"Beers?" O'Day said with chagrin. "All we had were some lukewarm colas. We didn't even get any pretzels! Now that we're here, I gotta get some grub."

I pushed myself to my feet and queried, "Just where is ... here?"

He shrugged and shook his head, "Beats me. It's definitely a military base of some kind. When I asked Baxter, all he would say was that the place was classified."

"I don't like the sound of that. I don't think they're going to let us just walk away from here. One thing in our favor, at least we can use Wingate as a bargaining chip."

"What? What are you talking about?" O'Day said wide-eyed.

"Jeremy got the drop on him. That crazy bastard was going to blow up the plane with us on it," I exclaimed.

"How many beers did you have anyway? Blow up the plane? Where did you get that crazy idea? He and Baxter led the others into the hangar. Baxter didn't have a gun in his hand."

I grabbed his arm and pulled him back before he stepped through the door and onto the departure platform. "Bear with me, Brock! Are we the last two on board?"

He wrenched his arm from my grasp, "Yeah. What of it?"

"Who sent you back for me?"

"Colonel Wingate, of course," he replied.

"I don't like this one bit, Brock," I muttered. "I think you and I have been deemed expendable."

"Don't be ridiculous!" he snapped. He turned away and stepped onto the platform. A loud crack echoed across the grounds. O'Day fell back into the cabin clutching the side of his neck.

Pulling him away from the portal I cried, "Brock! Are you hit?"

Still clutching his neck he moaned and sat up. "It just grazed my neck," he growled. He lowered his hand to view the blood in his palm. "Son of a bitch! Who shot at me? ...And why?"

"You in the plane!" boomed a voice outside. "That was a warning. Officer O'Day toss your service revolver out of the plane and onto the tarmac! Then both of you come out with your hands behind your head!"

"Damn!" I yelped. "That's Ferrara ... one of the FBI agents!"

Then Wingate's voice rang out, "Don't make me give the order to my men to open up with armor piercing shells! That's one expensive airplane, gentlemen. I don't want to put any holes in it."

"Sergeant O'Day, do as he says. He will give that order," Jeremy Baxter shouted.

Brock looked at me and said, "It's getting so I don't know who to trust anymore." He reached inside of his jacket and removed his gun. He grinned and added, "Where's backup when I need it?"

"Brock, do as they say. Throw the gun out." I cried.

Baxter shouted again, "Michael, if you don't trust me or the colonel ... then listen to the one who is charge of this operation."

"Please, Michael ... Brock! Do as they say," the all too familiar voice cut to my very soul.

Tears of anger and betrayal formed in the corners of my eyes. She had turned against us! She was a traitor ... my wife ... Michelle!"

( To be continued

Out Minded )

№ 2086

Butterfly Dreams (43)

2011-01-17T12:01:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

An Unlikely Savior

The door at Wingate's back swung open and struck him, the force of which threw him off balance and onto the deck. I looked up to see Faye standing in the doorway. There was as an angry scowl on her face.

"Don't just sit there!" she bellowed. "Grab the son of a bitch's gun!"

Without hesitation I knelt beside him and removed the pistol from the holster, but I was caught off guard when with a sudden reflex motion he grabbed my arm. Despite my efforts to secure the weapon, it squirted from my hand and fell onto the floor between our bodies.

His years of military conditioning proved too much for the more sedentary attention I'd ever given to exercise. The drive of his knee into my groin all but put an end to the struggle. Having reacquired his gun he got to his feet and pointed it at Faye.

"Mrs. O'Day, what do think you're doing?" he roared. "Have you forgotten whose side you're on?"

"You bastard!" she screeched. "You were going kill everyone, including me! How dare you question my loyalty."

There was a sudden jolt of the plane. Wingate seemed to be expecting the disturbance and gloated, "That would be my troops opening the cargo ramp. It's time for us to disembark."

From the corner of my eye I caught movement to the colonel's right. He was turned slightly and realized a second too late that Baxter had been feigning unconsciousness. There was a gush of air escaping Wingate's lungs when the toe of Baxter's shoe impacted his solar plexus. In one moment Wingate had been training his gun on us, in the next it was Baxter standing over him with the gun in hand.

"It was you who taught me to never assume that your enemy is incapacitated. Colonel, it would appear that you violated your own rules of combat," Baxter pontificated to the fallen officer.

Rubbing his abdomen he spoke in defiance, "It doesn't matter. My men have already left the plane. Private Jones has his orders. With or without me, he will detonate those charges the moment he hits terra firma." He moved his arms outward with dancing fingers and said, "Boom!"

Craning his neck to see out of the window Jordan remarked, "I can see several parachutes floating to the ground."

"How ... how can the three of you be so calm? We're all going to die!" Faye cried.

"I don't think so, Mrs. O'Day," Baxter responded, "I'm guessing that the Colonel here has a contingency plan. Despite his outward toughness, this man is no hero, and he's not about to die for any cause."

Wingate snarled, "How dare you speak of me as a coward. You, Baxter, are the coward ... and a traitor!" He didn't wait for Jeremy to respond but turned his verbal tirade at Faye. "...And you! Your father would be ashamed of you and what you've done."

Professor Jordan stood and wagged his finger at the man, "No, he would not! In fact, I'm quite proud of her."

His mouth agape Wingate uttered, "What? What are talking about? Julius Gates is her father."

Her hands on her hips, Faye shook her head and said, "Step-father, Colonel. This man is my biological father."

Baxter addressed me, "Michael, this plane will not be able to land with that cargo ramp down. Could you go close it?" When he saw the word 'how' forming on my lips he said, "In the rear of the troop cabin you will see a panel with a series of buttons. The top-most button will close the ramp."

When I returned to the cabin I nodded to Jeremy that the ramp had been closed. Grinning, I noted that the angry exchanges between Faye, Baxter and Wingate had not abated.

"You fools!" the colonel roared. "You don't realize what you're messing with, and with whom you're messing. It's bigger than all of us. Nothing that happens here on this plane will change anything. Mark my words, there is no stopping us."

Faye turned and looked back into the main cabin. "It looks like whatever you put in the drinks is wearing off, Colonel. They're all beginning to come to."

"Drugged?" Jordan said.

"Yes, drugged. It seems that the colonel here slipped a micky in our drinks. He was going to blow up the plane while they were sleeping."

"You weren't affected?" I asked.

She smiled and shook her head, "No. I didn't have a drink. I tend to get very airsick when I fly, so I took some Dramamine. I thought it best not to mix alcohol when the medicine."

Baxter chuckled, "He knew you didn't drink it, but he wasn't concerned about you being awake. You were part of his team!"

Nodding she responded, "Right. He didn't count on me eavesdropping behind the door and learning about the explosives."

"All I know is that you are our unlikely savior, Mrs. O'Day," I remarked, "even though you acted as such only because you were being betrayed."

Professor Jordan touched my arm and said, "Michael, you should not be so quick to judge her."

I was about to recite any number of suspicious and treacherous acts that could be attributed to her when a voice boomed over the intercom. "This is the pilot, we are approaching the landing strip. We will be touching down in one minute. For your safety, please be seated and secure your seat belts."

( To be continued

Enter the Traitor )

№ 2085

After 'Once Upon A Time'

2011-01-14T22:11:00.000-08:00

Do you remember all those fairy tales from our youth?

Have you ever wondered what ever happened to the characters?

Wonder no more!

Cinderella

Snow White

Little Red Riding Hood

Sleeping Beauty

Jasmine (from Aladdin)

Belle (from Beauty & the Beast)

Ariel (The Little Mermaid)

- Thank you, Cathy

№ 2084

Butterfly Dreams (42)

2011-01-11T00:50:00.000-08:00

(A sequel to The Strange Story of Mr. Black and Ms Gray.)

-(The Story begins HERE)-

Purple Mountain Majesty

All but overcome by the old man's revelations, I pressed my index fingers hard against the sides of my head to relieve the throbbing pressure of my temples. I was lost in a sea of chaos where not only nothing was it as it seemed, but no one appeared to be who they really were.

I could feel the plane begin to bank slightly to our right. Glancing in that direction, I figured that it must have been a mid-flight adjustment to bring us on course to our final destination.

Next to me the professor began a slightly off-key chant, "Oh, beautiful for purple mountain majesties ..."

Perhaps he deliberately left out the spacious skies and amber waves of grain lines, or maybe he didn't really know the lyrics I thought. Through the window next to him I could see what had inspired him. In the distance, rising above the clouds, the high peaks of the Rocky Mountains had come into view.

The mountains, however, failed to fill me with patriotic sentiments. If anything, they evoked a sense of dread of what awaited us beneath their peaks. My redundant announcement caught their attention, "We're almost there."

Baxter glanced at his watch and nodded, "Yes. We'll be starting our descent in ten minutes."

"When we land, just what is our plan of action?" I asked. The only response was Jordan's shrug and Baxter's unblinking eyes. "There is a plan in place ... right?"

"A plan?" Baxter grinned. "I would venture to say that there are several plans in place." He waited for the anguish on my face to dissipate and elaborated, "Out there in the main cabin sits Wingate and two FBI agents. I can assure you that the plans of the military and the FBI are not from the same play book. They are not about to share the prize."

My eyes darted between the pair and I growled, "If we're not collaborating our efforts with them, then why on earth are we traveling together?"

"Michael," the professor offered, "might I remind you that there is yet another faction out there? The fact that their organization doesn't officially exist, doesn't mean that they are to be dismissed."

Rubbing my chin I realized what he was inferring. "Ah, our unlikely alliance is intended as a show of force?"

"Precisely," he answered.

Bemused I threw my arms above my head and expounded, "So, when our unnamed friends learn that we are working together ... they're going to shit their pants and just ... walk away?"

"Great plan, eh?" Baxter said, sarcasm ruling the tone of his voice.

I clasped my hands behind my head and stared up at the ceiling for several moments before asking the question to which I already knew the answer, "Who, pray tell, came up with that brilliant plan?"

Although Baxter saw through my feigned query, Jordan did not, "Why, our illustrious Commander-in-Chief of course!"

The door to the main cabin swung open. Wingate walked in and addressed us, "Gentlemen, we are about to land. Buckle up!" He then strode past us and opened a door at the back of the cabin. He looked inside and belched an order, "Men, lock and load!"

Stunned, I attempted to get to my feet but Professor Jordan grabbed my arm. I glared at Wingate and yelped, "You've got armed troops in there! Why?"

Glancing at me he replied with a haughty arrogance, "We might be on the same team ... for now ... but I have my orders to be prepared for armed resistance."

"I was promised that there would be no violence!" Jordan cried. "We are here to seize control of the research facility. We have Butterfly Dreams. There is no need for weapons."

I turned and glared at the old man, "You ... you're a part of this? Whose side are you on?"

"Enough, old man!" Wingate shouted. "My orders are neither subject to interpretation nor open for discussion. Allow me to inform you that as of this moment you are no longer useful to us."

At that moment a soldier stepped forward from the rear cabin. He snapped to attention and saluted, "Everything is ready, just as you ordered, sir."

In what seemed to be one fluent move, Wingate withdrew his pistol from the holster at his waist and swung his arm to his left. Baxter crumpled in his seat from the force of the gun striking the side of his head. I had no more than opened my mouth when the muzzle of weapon was pressed against my forehead.

"Relax, Mr. Black," he said holstering his gun. Standing before me, his hands on his hips, a menacing sneer stretching his mouth into an angry crevice, he spoke slowly and deliberately, "I'm afraid there is going to be a most unfortunate accident. When I give the command, the private here will be detonating several strategically placed C-4 charges."

I slumped in my seat and sighed, "Of course you and your men will have disembarked by then."

"Of course! My mission is to eliminate the subversive elements that are a threat to our operations and to protect those operations at all costs. While my men and I are parachuting safely to earth, you and your friends on board will die in an unexplained midair explosion of this craft."

( To be continued

An Unlikely Savior )

№ 2083

Here's Mud Ennui

2011-01-08T09:11:00.000-08:00

Well, it's been nine days since I officially dropped out of the ranks of the working stiffs. It's too small of a sampling to know how I like being among the retired stiffs.

So far it has felt more like I've been off for the long New Year's weekend followed by a week's vacation. In a nutshell, it really hasn't registered yet. One thing is for certain, ennui has yet to come knocking.

The New Year began with taking down the outdoor Christmas decorations, followed by stowing the fiber-optic tree away until next December. Of course, there was still some cleanup from the Blizzard of 2010. Then on two occasions my wife convinced me I should accompany her to the grocery store because more snow had been forecast for the upcoming weekend.

Oh yeah, why should she have to cook after we'd gone food shopping? Just what I needed: to wait in a long line at a popular restaurant with others who didn't want to cook either.

I had almost forgotten that last week I'd promised a friend I would take to him a doctor's appointment. Oh well, I had nothing better to do than to sit in a hospital waiting room for those three hours anyway!

Damn! I remembered that I needed to run to the gas station to fill up my gasoline can. I wouldn't want to run out of gas for the snow blower!

(~~Expletives deleted~~) We went to the grocery store twice this week - what do you mean we need milk?

Bored? I haven't found time to get bored!

It seems that I've been spending more time in my shoes than in my slippers! I've been sitting behind a steering wheel more than I have been in repose in my recliner. Things seemed to be less hectic when I was working.

Among my Christmas gifts were some DVDs. I've had them sitting in waiting for when boredom sets in. Needless to say, they haven't come into play to be played as of yet. The movies include: Avatar (the Director's cut); The Town; Inception; Jonah Hex; The A-Team; and Knight and Day.

Then there is the matter of this blog - especially the fictional story, "Butterfly Dreams," which has been in limbo since 12/10/10. Distracted by the NFL playoff games this weekend, I will be delving back into that tale starting tomorrow, 1/10/11, and will be posted the next installment soon. (I'll have to go back and read previous installments to refresh my memory where the story stands.)

It would seem that it will not be soon that I find time to become bored.

Here's mud ennui !

№ 2082

Deconstructing Christmas

2011-01-04T11:52:00.000-08:00

The bane of Christmas decorations:

Taking them down and storing them until next year.

It's one of those annual rites of the New Year. Remember how you get into the spirit of Christmas when you cheerfully deck your house inside and out with all those festive decorations?

Isn't it kind of ironic when it comes to taking it all down, I think of it as deconstructing Christmas, that the task seems to be rather laborious? It tends to become one of those chores that you are prone to put off until later, like say, tomorrow or the day after.

While performing this duty today, I came across a box of ornaments that we haven't used in quite some time. These were special and have sentimental value to us. I'd like to believe they are probably one of a kind.

I thought it would be a good idea to share the images of them. I scanned them and uploaded them to this post.

They were hung on our Christmas trees when my daughter, Gretchen, was younger and still lived with us. All of them were hand-made by myself. They are hand-drawn and hand-painted onto various shaped pieces of wood. You might recognize that the one to the left was fashioned from a wooden stirrer.

The 3 figures at the right were made from those wooden sticks used to stir a can of paint.

Quite a few of our Christmas trees over the years had no store-bought ornaments on the branches, instead they were decked out with these hand-made ones.

On several occasions Gretchen has taken a few of my pieces, her favorites, to her new home. I've been noticing that the contents of the box housing my collection has been dwindling in numbers over the years. That's okay, of course. I guess we should look at them as family heirlooms which are intended to be handed down.

Now that I'm retired, I'm thinking that I should return to my shop and start producing more of these items. I use to sell my wood crafts and did alright. For us retirees, extra spending money in the pocket never hurts.

№ 2081

It Occurred To Me

Burma Lake Scene

Class of 2015

Warning ... Democrat Voters

Warning... My Democrat friends will be offended by this. Only read it if you have an open mind and a sense of humor..........When your "friends" cannot explain why they voted for Democrats, give them this list. They can then pick their reasons from the "TOP 12"...

1. I voted Democrat because I believe oil companies' profits of 4% on a gallon of gas are obscene, but the government taxing the same gallon of gas at 43% isn't.

2. I voted Democrat because I believe the government will do a better job of spending the money I earn than I would.

3. I voted Democrat because Freedom of Speech is fine, as long as nobody is offended by it.

4. I voted Democrat because I'm way too irresponsible to own a gun, and I know that my local police are all I need to protect me from murderers and thieves.

5. I voted Democrat because I believe that people who can't tell us if it will rain on Friday can tell us that the polar ice caps will melt away in ten years if I don't start driving a Prius.

6. I voted Democrat because I'm not concerned about millions of babies being aborted, so long as we keep all death row inmates alive.

7. I voted Democrat because I think illegal aliens have a right to free health care, education, and Social Security benefits.

8. I voted Democrat because I believe that business should not be allowed to make profits for themselves. They need to break even and give the rest away to the government for redistribution as the Democrats see fit.

9. I voted Democrat because I believe liberal judges need to rewrite the Constitution every few days to suit some fringe groups who would never get their agendas past the voters.

10. I voted Democrat because I think that it's better to pay billions to people who hate us for their oil, but not drill our own because it might upset some endangered beetle or gopher.

11. I voted Democrat because while we live in the greatest, most wonderful country in the world, I was promised "HOPE AND CHANGE".

12. I voted Democrat because my head is so firmly planted up my ass, it's unlikely that I'll ever have another point of view.

Getting There ...

The Green Thing

Happy 4th of July

Butterfly Dreams (59)

Smokers Synonymous

Monkey Off My Back

Remember: Never Forget

Butterfly Dreams (58)

Cletis Clyde's Mem-wires

Butterfly Dreams (57)

Smashing Rube Goldberg

Mikey-Leaks

Editorial Toon Tribute To bin Laden's Demise

Butterfly Dreams (56)

Trump's Trump a Triumph?

An Easter Diet

Tickling the Funny Bone

Cletis Clyde's Oskars

Butterfly Dreams (55)

Butterfly Dreams (54)

Sax and Violins

Nevermore

Misc. E-mail Call

He Said, She Said

Butterfly Dreams (53)

Pic Pickups

Google "It"

A Mish-Mash of This and That

Butterfly Dreams (52)

Poking Around - Joking Around

Butterfly Dreams (51)

You're a Blockhead, Charlie Sheen

Butterfly Dreams (50)

Life According to Elvis

Butterfly Dreams (49)

Jokes R.F.D.

Butterfly Dreams (48)

To Wit: Some Wit

Omphaloskepsis

An Arrow Thru the Heart

No Sweat !

Butterfly Dreams (47)

An App a Day Keeps the Priest Away

The Fishin' Hole

Butterfly Dreams (46)

Punxsutawney Phil Says Early Spring

Chariots of the Household Gods

Butterfly Dreams (45)

Six Years and Still Ticking

After 20 Days - Still Retired

Butterfly Dreams (44)

Butterfly Dreams (43)

After 'Once Upon A Time'

Butterfly Dreams (42)

Here's Mud Ennui

Deconstructing Christmas

Warning... My Democrat friends will be offended by this. Only read it if you have an open mind and a sense of humor..........
When your "friends" cannot explain why they voted for Democrats, give them this list. They can then pick their reasons from the "TOP 12"...