Sunday, December 31, 2006

Clock Watching

Once again the world is ushering in a New Year as 2006 gives way to 2007. Billions of people will be clock watching as midnight on December 31 draws near.

I've seen more New Year's than I really care to remember. Having said that, I cannot help but marvel at the changes in the five decades of New Years that have occurred on my watch.
....Once upon a time the transistor had revolutionized the world of communications, making the world much smaller. Now, that technological wonder is all but forgotten. ...And oh, how our entertainment has changed.

In retrospect: the 50's
In the early 50's TV programs were only aired for three hours in the evenings. The rest of the day the only image on your set, which was a piece of furniture itself, was the Indian head test pattern.

....Do you remember? Poodle skirts, cardboard record players, drive-in diners, Bill Haley & the Comets, 3D Movies, Christine Jorgensen, Ozzie & Harriet, Silly Putty, DA's, Gidget, the Edsel, the Rosenberg Trial, The Fly, Ding Dong School, "Klattu Borado Nikto", hula hoops, I Love Lucy, Ben Hur, McCarthyism, Kukla,Fran & Ollie, transistor radios, penny loafers, I Like Ike, Pinkie Lee, juke boxes, "Duck and cover.", Howdy Doody, View Masters, Lassie, "Say the magic word and win $100."
In Retrospect: the 60's
....Do you remember? FM Radio, "Mary Ann or Ginger?", The Beatles, S&H Green Stamps, the TV Dinner, The Banana Splits, mini-skirts, Lost In Space, Tupperware, Hai Karate, the Frito Bandito, "To boldly go where no man has gone before.", Camelot, the Smothers Brothers, UHF TV, The Valley of the Dolls, bikinis, Tang, Tonka Toys, "The Eagle has landed.", game shows, pop-top cans, Hullabaloo, Julia Child, the Ford Mustang, "Eeep Opp Ork Ah Ah", Kent State, Xerox copiers, Arpnet - the forerunner of the Internet, Peyton Place, "Far out, man!", color television, Viet Nam, Aluminum Christmas trees, Jimmi Hendrix, Polaroid cameras, Hawaii Five-0, "Sock it to me!", The Twist, The Bay of Pigs, Born To Be Wild, the Nixon-Kennedy debates, Bonanza, Woodstock, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

In Retrospect: the 70's
....Do you remember? the Bicentennial, L'eggs, SNL, Charlie's Angels, earth shoes, Play-Doh, "I can't believe I ate the whole thing!", Queen, Mr. Microphone, CB radios, Holly Hobby, Happy Meals, Atari, "In a galaxy far, far away...", The Partridge Family, Wolfman Jack, Photomats, Mood Rings, Disco, Weebles, The Blues Brothers, "Goodnight, John-Boy", The Mod Squad, Etch-a-Sketch, The Village People, Saturday Night Fever, Billy Beer, macrame, Airplane, Pet Rocks, Nancy Drew, Ronco Pocket Fisherman, Slinky, "Kiss my grits!", Jack In The Box, Sea Monkeys, 45 RPM record adaptors, Hot Wheels, lava lamps, Self-serve Gas Stations, leisure suits, Playboy Clubs, Airstream trailors, "Jane, you ignorant slut!", Grease, mock turtle necks, Dressy Bessy, energy crisis,
7-Eleven, wrap-around skirts, Simon, 8-Track tapes, The Brady Bunch, bell bottoms, "I'd rather fight than switch.", polyester, mini,midi & maxi skirts, Happy Days, Animal House, "Sometimes you feel like a nut..".

In retrospect: the 80s
....Do you remember? Rubik's Cube, Jamaican Bobsled Team, The Far Side, Pac-Man, futons, Home-Shopping Network, "Do you believe in miracles?", Yakov Smirnoff, Smurfs, Urban Cowboy, Baby Jessica, Max Headroom, Trivial Pursuit, MTV, the Space Shuttle,
E.T., Milli Vanilli, Mount St. Helens, Madonna, Apple Computer, Knight Rider, Buhwheet, Space Shuttle Challenger tragedy, Care Bears, The Family Feud, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, "Who shot J.R.?", the Super Bowl Shuffle, Yuppies, American Bandstand goes off the air - 1988, Ghostbusters, Speak & Spell, Howard the Duck, Chernobyl, "You'll shoot your eye out, kid!", Tylenol tampering, Little Shop of Horrors, Strawberry Shortcake, Satellite television, The fall of the Berlin Wall.

In retrospect: the 90's

....Do you remember? eBay, cell phones, Starbucks, Free Willy, Judge Judy, AOL, " I'm Tom Bodet, and we'll keep the light on for you.", Home Alone, debit cards, prenuptials, "Wazzup!", Kwanzaa, Married With Children, veggie burgers, Fax machines, The Real World, Hooters, dollar stores, The Spice Girls, Mrs. Doubtfire, tattoos, Infomercials, Napster, The WB, Psychic Friends Network, nylon mesh sponges, Sony Playstation, Furby, toe rings, the Dancing Baby, South Park, gourmet coffee,, leggings, Baywatch, Beanie Babies, Susan Powter, Sweatin' To The Oldies, microbreweries, office cubicles, The Simpsons, Thighmaster, The Budweiser frogs, votive candles, Win Ben Stein's Money, NYPD Blues, " I'm not only the Hair Club President, I'm also a client.", Cartoon Network, 1-900 telephone numbers, Pokemon, CD Players, emoticons, Beverly Hills 90210, SuperCuts, Jurassic Park, bread machines, chat rooms, The Joy Luck Club.

The 00's still have three years left before being a complete decade, but it promises to be one of the most memorable. One thing that is sure to included and noteworhty in the 00's is the popularity of Blogging.

There are many important events, movies, TV shows, products, people, etc., not included in each of the above recaps of those decades. There were far too many things to mention for those eras that I could possibly mention and still keep this post from becoming too voluminous. ( I'm not a machine, Captain. I'm just a blogger. )
....I'm sure that as you traipse through all the nostalgia of the decades you remember, you'll come up with a lot that I haven't mentioned.

In 1 hour and 45 minutes, here in New England, 2006 will be a memory. I hope you enjoyed this little jog down my own personal memory lane.


Saturday, December 30, 2006

The Old Man and the Secret «-

Every year at about this time the Old Man disappears. Maybe he's out on a bender. Perhaps he has an annual tryst. Wherever it is he goes, no one seems to know.

Then he returns, reemerging as an innocent babe. It maybe that he has found the most magic of all grails, that enigmatic Fountain of Youth that has beguiled man since time immemorial.

Old Man, why is that you forsake us? Can you not find it in your heart to invite us along on your yearly sojourn? Though the trek may be fraught with danger, would it not be wise to travel in the comfort and safety of numbers? Dare you not share your secret? Are you honor bound by some pact written in blood?

Your presence is felt until that penultimate date every December. In a mere trice you are transformed, your timeworn body in tattered robe transmuting into smooth tissue adorned in white raiment. Where once an old man hobbled with staff in hand, now crawls a mere babe.

Witnessing this transformation, I can now understand that eternal Riddle of the Sphinx. In the mornings of our lives we move on all fours. During the days we walk upright on two legs. Finally, in the evenings we move about with the aid of a cane to steady those legs. Yes, the answer sought by the Sphinx was mankind.

Weep not for the Old Man, instead, embrace the Child. Dwell not on what has transpired, but rejoice for the lives we have yet to experience. We must retain the lessons we have learned for they are the guideposts along the paths we must travel while on our journey.

Just who is that Old Man? Have you not solved for yourself the Riddle of the Sphinx? He is you. He is me. He is us. We tread upon the same path.

As you ponder on these words of an aging almost old man, take with you my wishes for a happy, healthy and memorable New Year.


Friday, December 29, 2006

« Redneck Dickshunary »*6

Howdee, folks. Cletis Clyde here. I'm gwanna take over this here Blog fer the night. To get things rollin', I reckon I should 'splain the pitcher down yonder.

See-in' as a bunch of ya ain't too durn smart when it comes to such things all carnal like, I'll bring you up to snuff jest like me. Tarnation, this is stuff that any 22 year-old sixth grader should knows by now.
....In the new 'dition of the Redneck Dickshunary, y'all will find:
· shebangs - n, v; a quality found in a good woman. (Cletis never dates a girl unless shebangs.)
....That should help ya figger out the cartoon with no more help frum me.

Well, I got to thinkin' and lawd, I done thunk up myself a whoppin' good idea fer this here post. They must be thousands, maybe a hunnert words some of y'all might not be educated with. So I said to myself, Cletis you should be teachin' them readers out there some more words from your dickshunary.
....So's I jest closed my eyes and placed my finger upon a bunch of words that were purty good for teachin'. Now y'all jest sit back and take a sip from yer jug and bite off a plug of tobacky and let ol' Cletis learn ya a few new words.
Fer those of you out there what might be a touch dumb, I'm gonna pervide the pernounciation, the defnition, a sentence and a translation 'tended fer you Yankees what might be readin' this here Blog.

· yacht- (yät) n,v; Word which precedes advice. (Yacht to get new tars fer yer truck.) (Translation: You ought).

· poster- (pose-ter)adj,prep Accepted behavior. (We ain't poster remove them tags from the mattress. (Translation: Supposed to).

· official- (uh-fish-ul) n,v; The fate of aquatic creatures. (Official taste better if pan-ried in butter.) (Translation: A fish will).

· inherit- (in-hair-et)prep, adv; An indoor location. (Got any air freshener out there? Inherit stinks.) (Translation: In here it).

· odyssey- (ä-duh-see) v; Brought to the attention of another, something noticed. (You odyssey the rack on her! ) (Translation: Ought to see).

· waterfront- (wät-er-frunt)pron,adv; Used to express interest in the appearance of a female with her back to you. (Nice ass! I wonder waterfront looks like.) (Translation: What her front).

· neurotic- (new-rät-ick) n,adj; Recent sex stuff. (Billy Bob, you seen the neurotic dancer down at Porky's? (Translation: New erotic).

· enclose- (in-kloze)prep,n; Wearing garments. (She looks better nekkid than enclose.) (Translation: In clothes).

I reckon that is enough fer one day of lessons fer y'all folks. That's a heapin' lot a learnin' even fer a purty good student like me. I think you need a nice long recess. Hows 'bout joinin' me fer a drink? Yacht to.
....We can go over to Porky's and check out that neurotic dancer. We odyssey waterfront looks like when she's not enclose.

*(Based on the humor of Jeff Foxworthy)


Thursday, December 28, 2006

Navel Maneuvers

(Warning: This post is not intended for the weak of stomach or vegetarians.)

War is hell! For three months you have been embroiled in the Battle of the Bulge. Your weapons of choice were knives, forks and spoons. Your rebel yell, "Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we diet," resounded over the theaters of conflict.
....First in war, first in a piece of the pie.. will be a fitting epitaph for you, a Soldier of Fortune Cookie. You served with valor during the savory sorties. You rose through the ranks by attrition in the form of field promotions. You entered into battle as a Pastry Private, earning top honors and advancing quickly to a Shortcake Sergeant. As a Cupcake Corporal
you were at your finest.
....How did this war start? Who began the hostilities? Who fired the first shot (of booze)? It happened in three phases:

Phase 1: Chocolate Nirvana

Admit it, it all began around Halloween. First there was the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, just one at first. Before too long you were sniping another every time you walked past the secret hiding place. Equally tasty were the Snickers and Kit Kats. What harm was there in snagging a bag of M&Ms Peanuts?
....It turns out that the candy was just a minor skirmish, a precursor to:

Phase 2: Shut Off at the Salad Bar

Actually the Salad Bar was unceremoniously shut down. Rabbit food was repast non gratis. Preparations were underway for Thanksgiving, and it was going to be rough enough without roughage littering a spot better reserved for the gravy bowl.
....Turkey Day - this was your finest hour. (Canolis to the left of you, corn bread to the right of you, a cornucopia in front of you, into the galley you strode for 600,000 calories.) Never in the field of human consumption was so much eaten from so many plates by so few.
....All you ever needed was just a Slice of Life, turkey, ham, cake, pie, or even pizza! All you ever wanted was seconds - of each!

Phase 3: Romancing the Gall Stone

Just when you thought it was safe to diet, lo and behold it was Christmas time! There had been no truce called. Everywhere you looked there were stockpiles of ammunition bursting with flavor. There were presents all over the place, and that wasn't counting the wrapped ones beneath the Yule tree. After a night of bivouac, you stretched and proclaimed, "I love the smell of apple pie in the morning."
....You checked your belt and were pleased to discover that you still had two more notches left. If the battle lasted too long, you would be frantically seeking an ice pick or an awl. You had enlisted for the duration. It was the American thing to do. You were a true Warrior of Want Not.

There are rumors that all hostilities will end on the second day of January. You begin to think of all those field rations...
....War is hell!

What are you doing for New Year's Eve? I, for one will not be out there partying with some hot chicks. No, I'll be home with some Cold Duck.


Wednesday, December 27, 2006


Aftermath n 1. a result or consequence; 2. when I had English class.

Pretty paper, pretty ribbons of blue;
Spread on the floor all about you;
All that money we surely did piss;
How in the hell we gonna pay for this?

The aftermath of Christmas in our living room is a scene that Currier & Ives would never have painted. The Christmas tree no longer stands over colorful packages, the landscape before it now a wasteland of dull boxes and torn paper. Why did we bother to take such great care when we wrapped them all?
....The next phase will begin soon enough when we begin to cull through the treasures, separating the keepers from those that will be returned or dare I say, re gifted?

....The money spent - the food consumed - the pounds gained ... these are the issues destined to headline our attention a few days hence. Yes, there is another list to be prepared. I like to refer to them as New Year's Revolutions, as opposed to Resolutions. In my case, I will surely overthrow the articles and mandates of said list and form my own by-laws for the coming year.
....I, who loathes failure, do hereby resolve to make no New Year's Resolutions! It's a full proof plan that I cannot possibly fail. I know this from experience, for it is the same resolution I made last year.

If I were to make some resolutions, I have to admit that I would "fix" the game. For example, for the New Year:

  • I will watch what I eat. (Easy enough, I never close my eyes when eating.)
  • I will not watch too many football games. (Luckily they don't broadcast too many.)
  • I will eat less fatty and greasy foods. ( ...For midnight snacks.)
  • I will not make hasty decisions. (I'll count to three first.)
  • I will not spend more money than I make. ( The printing press is broken.)
  • I will drink no wine before it's time. (One PM okay for you?)

Since I am getting primed for the New Year, I do believe a New Year's joke would suffice about now.

A Mexican, a Polish man, an African American, an Italian, a Catholic Priest, a Rabbi, a nun and Bill Clinton walk into a bar on New Year's Eve ...
....The bartender looks up and says, "What is this, some kind of joke?"

The Beer Prayer: Our Lager, which art in barrels, hallowed be Thy drink; Thy will be drunk, I will be drunk at home as we are in the pub. Give us this day our foamy head, and forgive us our spillage, as we forgive those who spill upon us. And lead us not into incarceration, but deliver us from hangovers; for Thine is the beer, the bitter, and the Lager, forever and ever. Amen.


Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Grandma's Revenge

The following cartoon didn't fit with any of my previous posts, and it certainly doesn't fit here either. While it is a bit of a groaner, I liked it. It's colorful, and, well ... it's a ... groaner!

Rudolph Got Run Over By My Grandma*

Rudolph got run over by my grandma
While cruisin' all those back roads;
Even though huntin' season was over,
She bagged that deer with the shiny nose.

She'd been listening to the radio
And she nearly lost her breath
Yellin' cuss words at the DJ
For playin' that song where she gets hooved to death.

So she set out on the warpath
There was evil in her eye
She said "I'm gonna find that reindeer
And by golly, one of us is gonna die!"


Santa Claus had made a landing
On the new expressway
Grandma was doin' 120
With her headlights pointed straight at Santa's sleigh.

'Twas an awful sound of impact
Grandma really nailed him good
There were hoofprints on her windshield
And a pair of ripped-off antlers on her hood


Guess we'll all be missing Rudolph
In the winter when it snows
But now he's up in reindeer heaven
With a Buick logo stamped into his nose.

But there's no regret from Grandma
As she drove away, she sneered,
And then she hollered out the window
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a FLAT DEER!"


(*Another piece of work from the archives of Anonymous.)


Monday, December 25, 2006

Christmas, What Does It Mean?

Happy Christmas (War Is Over)

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones
The old and the young

For me, the picture above captures not only the fictional but the true essence of Christmas. It is a nice blend of the commercial and of the spiritual.

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

I'm sure that most everyone will recognize the genius in these lyrics by the late John Lennon. As I attempt to wax serious with this post, I'm afraid that I cannot express myself as eloquently as he. I shall not try to do so.
....I find it ironic that it is the fictional character who has become more emblematic of the holiday than the one for whom it is named. Why does that not come as a surprise to me? I'm afraid that the worship of the all mighty dollar is all the God needed and thus worthy of homage.

And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so Happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight

Save the children whose innocence allows them to still see the magic of Christmas, the messages of our Gods, regardless of what nations worship them, seem not to speak of peace on earth or goodwill toward all men.
....Alas, the words of Lennon and other visionaries fall upon deaf ears. How then could I think my feeble words might be heard? I'd like to think that just one person might have pause to consider these few lines. If they choose to ignore my thoughts, then maybe, just maybe someone might really comprehend what Lennon had to say.

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

Innocence is lost on the young, and like those who preceded them down life's path, they too will no longer believe. Yet, they will hold onto the image of that mythical visitor on Christmas Eve. They will know too, that wonderful story of the babe born in Bethlehem. Sadly, they will think it a nice story and nothing more. That embraced by the innocent, fades with the loss of innocence. Aging is their fate.

And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so Happy Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

Have you ever listened to the lyrics of this song? I have, and curiously, the meaning seems to be clearer to me when I read the lyrics rather than listening or singing along to them.
....As such, let us take heed in the words of the bard:

A very merry Christmas
And a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

War is over if you want it
War is over now

To all of you who read this, moreover to those who believe, remember to keep "Christ" in Christmas. "Merry" and "Happy" will fall into place.


Sunday, December 24, 2006

Uplifting Gifting

'Tis better to give than it is to receive.

Try selling that crock to someone who got a crappy gift! Why not convince Frosty the Snowman that a Vidal Sassoon hair drier is more practical than a snow blower. (Okay, so Frosty's a dirty old snowman.)
....Try to convince a kid that a pair of pink bunny slippers from Auntie Grace is a better gift than a Sony Play Station.
....There is a commercial that beat me to the punch, but I think there's a Rolling Stones song that should become a regular Christmas carol. It would be the perfect anthem for bad gifts and those who receive them. The song? You Can't Always Get What You Want.

So, to the backdrop of that song, here's some suggested gifts for some celebrities:

For Rosie O'Donnell -Since she never seems to know when to keep her big mouth shut: some organic food, delivered by carrier pigeon.

For Norm and Steve -a fix up job at the famous Chicken Ranch.

If you are a parent, you are no doubt experienced in the third shift at the factory. Of course, I am referring to the late night chore of wrapping the Christmas gifts that Santa left on Christmas Eve. (Hey, if he's so great, then why doesn't the "tubby one" deliver the gifts already wrapped?)
....And if that crack team of elves is so proficient, then why aren't all the toys put together? Some assembly required? Indeed! The reverberations of my expletives deleted the night I struggled to assemble that Barbie Recreation Vehicle, can still sometimes be heard in my house.
....The stage is set for another version of Moore's Night Before Christmas:

Assembly Required*

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
I searched for the tools to hand to my spouse.
Instructions were studied and we were inspired,
In hopes we could manage "Some Assembly Required."
The children were quiet in their beds,
While Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
In the kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's town house to boot!
And, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!
We opened the boxes, my heart skipped a beat....
Let no pieces be missing or parts incomplete!
Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
If we can't get it right, it goes down in the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear,
But 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,
With each part numbered and every slot named,
So if there were failure, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
All over the floor they were scattered about.
"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, where the metal is bare!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."
And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
That all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
To keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
With "assembly required" till morning's first light.
We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
Till our eyes, they went bleary; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night it wore thin
Before we attached the last rod and last pin.
Then laying the tools away in the chest,
We fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.
Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,
And not have to run to the store for a thing!
"We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
For the perfect, most perfectest Christmas, I bet!"
Then off to dreamland, at last sweet repose
I gratefully went, although I suppose
There's something to say for those self-deluded
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!

(*I'd love to claim this as my own, but alas it's the work of that tireless author, Anonymous.)

Now that my gift wrapping is finally all done, I can return my attention to my shrink - my keyboard. Here's a couple of funny quickies for you:

Did you hear about the successful female stock broker who had a blind date with a Redneck? It didn't work out. She was NASDAQ and he was NASCAR.

Remember ladies you'll always have an hourglass figure. It just that the older you get everything on the top falls to the bottom.

After all the gifting today, I need to give myself a gift. I'll pamper myself with a cup of hot coffee, with a healthy uplifting shot of Bailey's substituting for the milk.


Saturday, December 23, 2006

I've Blogged Everywhere, Man

I've Blogged Everywhere, Man
(Sung to the tune of Johnny Cash's " I've Been Everywhere, Man")

I was postin' to my blog on-line at my Beta-Blogger place,
I realized I have a lot friends but wouldn't know their face.
One of them asked me how is it that I can find all the time
To post so often and then visit and read those friends of mine,
And then he asked me if I read everyword and if I understand.
And I said, "Listen, Bud, I've surfed sites all over this land."

-(Chorus)- I've surfed everywhere, man;
I've been everywhere, man
All across the Internet, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
I've had my share, man, I've surfed everywhere.

(Chant)- Schnoodlepooh, Shoo Shoo, Kenju, Hoosier Girl, Merle, Duke of Earl,Ben O, Zambo, Dawn, Sean, Megan, Warren, Nankin, Monty, Marti, Cheri, Izzy, Pirate, Janet, Unhappy Thinker and Jennifer

-(Chorus)- I've surfed everywhere, man;
I've been everywhere, man
All across the Internet, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
I've had my share, man, I've surfed everywhere.

(Chant)- Poopie, Sudie, Suzie, Tan Lucy, Karla, Cinderella, Rebecca, Carolyn, Jillian, New Mom On The Blog, Hijacked Blog, Skunk Feathers, Aral Pez, Steve G., Raggedy, Tony, Ivy, Mr. Fabulous, Old Hoss, Rachael and Chelle

-(Chorus)-I've surfed everywhere, man;
I've been everywhere, man
All across the Internet, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
I've had my share, man, I've surfed everywhere.

(Chant)- Christina, Miss Cellania, Zinnia, Windfall Woman, Stringman, Bubbleman, Doug, King Features, Peter, Jay, Redneck Nerdboy, Serena Joy, Jules, LZ Blogger, Lime, Funny Pics, Big Dick, Blue Cow, Jack, Canadian Dude, and Utube

-(Chorus)-I've surfed everywhere, man;
I've been everywhere, man
All across the Internet, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
I've had my share, man, I've surfed everywhere.

(Chant)-Inanna, Laina, Fred's World, Snav's World, Karen, Karyn, M.E. Ellis, Liz, Blue Dilly, Jipzee, Nicki, Miss Vickie, Lisa, Mia, Junie Rose, Top Cat, Kat, Sar, Tisha Sharp, Uncle Ralph, and Saurkraut

-(Chorus)-I've surfed everywhere, man;
I've been everywhere, man
All across the Internet, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
I've had my share, man, I've surfed everywhere.

"I know some place you haven't been." I'm surfing everywhere...

I hope that's everyone man,
All from my Blogroll, man
They're from everywhere, man
And I'm wishing every woman and man

A Merry Christmas ... And a Happy New Year.

(...And if you think I was going to link all those, man,
You're crazy, man!
They're on my sidebar, man,
You can surf everywhere too, man!


Friday, December 22, 2006


Continuing the current trend of large-scale mergers and acquisitions ..
... It was announced today at a press conference that Christmas and Chanukah will merge.

An industry source said that the deal had been in the works for about 1300 years, ever since the rise of the Muslim Empire.

While details were not available at press time, it is believed that the overhead cost of having twelve days of Christmas and eight days of Chanukah was becoming prohibitive for both sides.

By combining forces, we're told, the world will be able to enjoy consistently high-quality service during the Fifteen Days of Christmukah, as the new holiday is being called.

Massive layoffs are expected, with lords a-leaping and maids a-milking being the hardest hit. As part of the conditions of the agreement, the letters on the Dreydl, currently in Hebrew, will be replaced by Latin, thus becoming unintelligible to a wider audience.

Also, instead of translating to "A great miracle happened there," the message on the Dreydl will be the more generic "Miraculous stuff happens."

In exchange, it is believed that Jews will be allowed to use Santa Claus and his vast merchandising resources for buying and delivering their gifts. In fact, one of the sticking points holding up the agreement for at least three hundred years was the question of whether Jewish children could leave milk and cookies for Santa even after having eaten meat for dinner. A breakthrough came last year, when Oreos were finally declared to be Kosher. All sides appeared happy about this.

A spokesman for Christmas, Inc., declined to say whether a takeover of Kwanzaa might not be in the works as well. He merely pointed out that, were it not for the independent existence of Kwanzaa, the merger between Christmas and Chanukah might indeed be seen as an unfair cornering of the holiday market. Fortunately for all concerned, he said, Kwanzaa will help to maintain the competitive balance.

He then closed the press conference by leading all present in a rousing rendition of "Oy, Come All Ye Faithful."

*(This is another gem "borrowed" from Emmitsburg.)


One beautiful December evening Huan Cho and his girlfriend Jung
Lee were sitting by the side of the ocean. It was a romantic full
moon, when Huan Cho said "Hey baby, let's play Weeweechu."
...."Oh no, not now, lets look at the moon" said Jung Lee.
...."Oh, c'mon baby, let's you and I play Weeweechu. I love you and
it's the perfect time," Huan Cho Begged.
...."But I rather just hold your hand and watch the moon."
...."Please Jung Lee, just once play Weeweechu with me."
....Jung Lee looked at Huan Chi and said, "OK, we'll play Weeweechu."
....Huan Cho grabbed his guitar and they both sang....."Weeweechu a
Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry
Christmas, and a Happy New Year."



Thursday, December 21, 2006

Olio*: the Blog Spread

(*Olio-a mixture or medley; oft used crossword answer; also the theme of this post.)

Have you seen the official Bush family Christmas card? Transcribed from the audio submitted to the printing company, it seems that the translator had trouble deciphering Bush-ese. It is also possible that the President's Hooked on Phonics lessons is still stuck on nuclear and hasn't yet reached the word peace.
....Fortunately, the printer deleted the rest of Bush's message. They weren't quite sure just what was intended with the following words: and good swill to men.

Every time you turn around you have to go find a card for some holiday or celebration or whatever.

Tired of all those trips to the Card Shop? Are you overwhelmed by the miles upon miles of cards on display? Is it a pretty card? Is the prose or poem inside too sappy? Can you find the friggin' envelope for the one you finally chose? Is it a Hallmark? Who cares? Who cares what card company is bilking you out of $4.99 for 26 cents worth of card stock? If they are so materialistic to look at the back to see if it's a Hallmark, then they'll be disappointed to find no check enclosed.
....Spending too much time surfing those free e-card sites? Just think of all the time that could be better spent on e-Bay or Amazon. Wouldn't you rather be reading blogs, i.e. this one? Isn't there more satisfaction visiting your favorite game, news, sports, and ahem ... porn sites?
....Always at the forefront of public service, I have a solution for the headaches of obtaining that perfect card for whatever occasion you feel necessitates one.

What if you could buy just one card for the whole year? That's right, you can get by with just one card for every occasion of a given calendar year!

Introducing: The Everything Card

Now to spread some of that olio:

You gotta love Calvin, that snowman builder supreme:

The Ice Cream Industry's dirty little secret.

Do you know where and for whom your teenage son is shoveling?

The reason Frosty the Snowman had no children.

Little known fact: St. Nick's last job was as a plumber.

Moses learned his "parting" skills in Siberia.

And finally, do you recall the most famous reindeer of all?


Wednesday, December 20, 2006

New Santa On the Block

Be afraid! Be very afraid!
There's a new Santa on the block and he's comin' to town!

Santa's son has hit the road in this sequel to the previous post,The Anti-Claus.

Chapter 5: Deck the Halls With Pumpkins

Klaus Kringle knew what he had to do to achieve revenge. This Christmas was not going to be like those of the past. This year there would be two Santa's out there on Christmas Eve, each with a different agenda.
....While the jolly one in the red suit would be filling stockings for all the good boys and girls, the angry one, clad in black leather, would be cashing in his unused Halloween tricks. It would be a Boo-tiful Christmas this year.
....Conceived on Christmas, born on Halloween, Klaus had long harbored a deep hatred for the man known as Santa Claus. Not only only was the man a philanderer, but he was also a devious dead-beat dad. Through his website,, Klaus had learned that Santa had sired children all over the world. He was not alone. He was not unique.
....Al Gore's invention, the Internet, had given him untold power. The illegitimate offspring of Mr. Claus had united through the tag boards and chat rooms linked to Klaus' site. Thus, a master plan was launched. He had gained a legion of faithful disciples. The Christmas of '06 was going to be a memorable one, the year of the Anti-Claus.
....In cities all over the world, the Bastards of Claus would be celebrating Halloween in December. Instead of exchanging gifts, they would be tricking without the treating.

Chapter 6: Hark, the Harley Angels

After customizing his brand new 2006 Harley Super Glide to reflect his persona, Klaus roared out his driveway. His headlamp, filtered red, shown brightly from the "nose" of the hand-crafted Rudolph head mounted to the front of his bike. His gloved hands gripped the handlebars which resembled a deer's antlers.
....His white flowing beard was in stark contrast to the black stud-spiked leather jacket. Clinched in his teeth was a large cigar, the smoke whirling about the spike atop his black Kaiser helmet. This was no jolly old elf. This was not your father's Santa Claus!
....He pulled into the back of a luxury apartment building. This was where the rich people lived. Santa never missed the stockings of the rich kids. He knew this from the experiences of his youth. The rich-shit kids always got the best, most expensive gifts. Klaus had reasoned that the rich fathers had been greasing Santa's palm all along in exchange for the best gifts. The outrage there would have been had those fathers known that Santa had been shagging their wives too.
....He grabbed the over-sized sack that had been secured behind his seat. In the shadows of the night he climbed the fire escape stairs to the roof. Pausing for only a moment to savor his progress, he then began to remove his presents. He grinned as he thought of his minions all over the world exercising their own plans of Christmas treating.

Chapter 7: One Bad Santa Spoils the Whole Bunch

The trap had been set and Klaus lay low waiting for a certain big red rat to come along and take the bait. He gloated that after this night, Santa Claus would be wishing that he had kept his jingle bells in his pants all those years. After this night, Santa would never come again. He giggled cheerfully at his clever little pun.
....He didn't have long to wait. From the northern sky he could hear the jingle of approaching sleigh bells. He watched in nervous anticipation as the eight reindeer and the sleigh laden with one Santa Claus himself touched down upon the roof of the apartment building. The runners had landed on the fresh grease that Klaus had spread all over the roof. He smiled sheepishly as the sleigh and its team suddenly slid out of control and crashed into the wall of the elevator housing shed. He clenched his raised fist in a victory salute as Santa and his deer made contact with the electrified fencing he had wrapped around the structure.
....Klaus emerged from his place of hiding and made his way to the scene of the crash. He had set up his fence with just enough juice to shock Santa and his deer unconscious. He had no desire to seriously injure or maim his victims. He just wanted them incapacitated long enough for him to bring his plans to fruition.
....He worked quickly, removing the toys and presents from Santa's sack and sleigh. He then refilled the sack with bags of jewelry, silverware and expensive electronic equipment. Klaus had been stealing all that stuff from all over the city for the last several months just for this moment.
....What would people think of Santa Claus if he were to be caught with a sleigh full of contraband? That would be answered soon enough he thought. After hiding the original contents of Santa's bag, Klaus returned to his Harley in the back of the building. Rearing his bike like a stallion, he roared away from the premises on the rear wheel.
....Finally, far from detection, he used a stolen cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. Identifying himself as a concerned citizen, he reported suspicious activity on the roof of the apartment complex. His revenge would be almost complete when the police arrived to investigate.
....The law enforcement crew would find a crazy old man claiming to be Santa Claus. They would also find all those stolen goods in his sack. Only when they were leading him away in handcuffs, would he feel that justice had been served.

Chapter 8: One Lump of Coal or Two?

"Klaus," said a voice behind him. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"
....His heart skipped a beat as he whirled around to face the source of the voice. "Who's there?" he demanded.
...."Your father, Klaus. I'm your father," answered the figure as he stepped forward.
...."Father?" Klaus said and added in defiance, "You're not my father. That asshole over there on that rooftop is my father." He pointed at the building a few blocks away.
...."No, that man is Santa Claus," the man countered. "I'm the only father you have."
....Klaus was about to speak, but the man raised his hand. "Hear me out, son. I know all about that night when you were only six years old. Your mother and I knew that you had seen us."
...."What?" Klaus protested. "You ... you were there? You perverted bastard, you were watching them?"
...."No, Klaus. You saw your mother and me making love that night."
...."But ... but I saw him .. the red suit .. the beard .. he was kissing .. touching her..." he stammered in confusion.
....The man shook his head, "I came home from an office party that night, Klaus. I rented a Santa Claus outfit to surprise you and your mother."
...."No. No," Klaus cried. "It can't be!"
...."Look son, it's not too late to make things right tonight. You can still save Christmas."
....Klaus' brain was in a state of flux. What if his father was telling the truth? What if Santa was innocent? What if he was just a jolly old elf? Suddenly nothing else mattered. He could ask his father why he had left them so long ago at another time.
....He scarcely noticed the passage of time as he hopped back on his bike, sped to the complex and climbed back onto that roof. His heart was heavy with guilt as he knelt over the unconscious man laying next to the overturned sleigh. Tears welled in his eyes as he tried to revive him. The deer were already beginning to stir. The old man moaned and opened his eyes slightly. Klaus stared into the confused but sincere eyes of a gentle man.
....In the distance and approaching fast, Klaus could hear the sirens. He didn't have much time. He had to get Santa up into his sleigh and let him fly away before the police arrived. He had to accept his punishment. He would turn himself in and confess to stealing all the stuff in that bag.

Kringle had moved to a better vantage point and watched as Santa and his sleigh were pulled airborne behind the flying reindeer. He watched in morbid silence as the cops closed in on the man dressed in black leather. He felt sorry for Klaus as he struggled with the lawmen. Yet, he admired his resolve for ultimately doing the right thing. There was some good in him after all.


He sat there staring straight ahead at the padded walls and door. The thoughts coursing through his brain were running the gamut from that of deep despair to a state of dumbfounded confusion. He had no desire for any more electric shock treatments. He wanted no part of their damned needles. He didn't need all of those anti-depressants and anti-psychotics they were force-feeding him.
....How had it come to this? How was it that he had failed? He had let a lot of people down, their faith seriously damaged. He knew that he was going to be there for a long time. He would just have to bide his time and maintain good behavior. One day he would be re-evaluated and he was determined that they would deem him cured.
....He had been barely conscious when that sick man in black had changed clothing with him. Why did that disturbed person keep calling him father? He'd watched helplessly as the man hopped into his sleigh and soared away with his team of reindeer into the night sky.
....No one would believe him, not the police who had arrested him, or the psychiatrists who had evaluated him. They kept telling him that Santa Claus was a fictitious character created to perpetuate the capitalistic side of Christmas. They said he was suffering from delusions.
....The one who had called himself the Anti-Claus had stolen his life, his very existence. He could only wait for that day when they would release him.
....When that day was upon him, then and only then could he exact revenge.


Tuesday, December 19, 2006

The Anti-Claus


One would think that being conceived on Christmas Eve would make for one special child. How curious would it be if that same child would be born on Halloween? Could it be anymore curious if he were to learn that his biological father was Santa Claus?
....What mysterious astronomical syzygy appeared in the heavens on that night dominated by a bright full winter moon? Could anyone have foreseen this as the coming of the Anti-Claus?

Chapter 1: The Prophesy

Thirty years ago three wise guys from the East End of the North End wandered the streets of Boston. They silently observed the pilgrimage of the costumed youngsters as they paraded from door to door seeking treats from the residents of each home. It was not the pagentry of Halloween that had lured them out into a chilly night.
....Dominick, Luigi and Valentino were not interested in the activities of the children that night. The source of their fixation was the curious star that had been observed moving across the clear night sky. To a man, they were well aware of the prophesy that had foretold of a special birth.
....If they had been visited by choirs of angels heralding the news, none were talking. Though they were bound by a code of silence, they were not hesitant to follow that star. Bearing violin cases containing tommy guns, Uzis and pistols with silencers, their gift was an offering of protection to the new born child.
....It was later, while behind bars, that they would learn that the star they had been following had in fact been an FBI helicopter that been tracking their movements. They had taken solace however, that on that night a new Don had been born.

Chapter 2: The Child

The Wise Guys never knew what had become of their pseudo-Messiah. He was born that night even as they had been led away in handcuffs. The babe lay in a crib in the finest of silk swaddling. There was no heavenly host singing. There were no shepherds. There was no little Drummer Boy. It was Halloween night and any stables that may have had vacancy that night, were filled with jack-o-lanterns.
....The infant had entered the world a month late, fighting gallantly to remain in the comfort of his mother's womb. Was it fate or just dumb luck that the Kringles had chosen to name their son Klaus? Had the child just grown tired of crying, or had he been soothed by Bobby "Boris" Picket's The Monster Mash playing on the radio near his crib?
....Klaus grew up as a healthy normal, albeit nondescript, young boy. He had a few friends, hated girls, and looked forward to Christmas just as any normal six-year-old boy would. His destiny awaited him however, on the eve of his sixth Christmas.

Chapter 3: The Song

It was Christmas Eve and Klaus couldn't sleep that night. He was too excited just thinking about the treasures that Santa would soon be depositing under the Christmas tree downstairs.
....Then he heard what he thought were voices. He was certain one was his mother's voice, but the other he couldn't recognize. It didn't sound like his father. He crept to the top of the stairs and listened.
...."Santa, we'd better be careful," his mother was saying. "Remember what happened on Christmas Eve six years ago?" He strained to hear Santa's reply, but only heard strange guttural sounds.
...."Careful big boy, you want me to conceive another baby on the night before Christmas?" She began to giggle, "Ooh. You always know the right buttons to push. Lower, darling. Lower."
....Klaus dared to peek around the corner and down the stairs. He turned pale and pulled himself back away from the scene on floor by the the tree. He might have been only six years old, but he'd had a fair idea what sex was.
....He returned to his bed and pulling the blankets over his head he began to weep uncontrollably. Emotions and thoughts ran rampant in his thoughts that night. His father, wasn't his father at all! He, Klaus Kringle, was the bastard son of Santa Claus! That bitch of a mother of his was nothing but a whore!
....Then that damned stupid Christmas song began pounding over and over in his brain. There was something wrong with the words. The song was different ....
Every Christmas season from that night since, he could only hear the song with different words than the original.

I Saw Mommy Shaggin' Santa Claus
(Sung to the tune of I Saw Mommy Kissin' Santa Claus)

I saw mommy shaggin' Santa Claus
Underneath the Christmas tree last night.
They didn't know I was up and about
Or the chance they were takin'
If I caught them makin' bacon
I saw Mommy kissin' Santa Claus
'Neath his drawers so snowy white;
How awful it would have been
If Daddy had walked in and seen
Mommy shagging Santa Claus last night.
I saw Santa kissing my mommy
'Neath her panties so snowy white;
Daddy would've grabbed his gun
If he had walked in and seen
Mommy shagging Santa Claus ... last night.

Chapter 4: Enter The Anti-Claus

Traumatized by the sights and sounds of that night, the relationship between Klaus and his mother was strained. No matter how hard she grilled him, he would never reveal what had been troubling him.
....He grew more bitter as the years passed. The bitch that had raised him was a whore! He was the bastard son of that miserable old man, Santa Claus. He often wondered just how many other bastards he had made all over the world.
....He also distanced himself from his "father." Although the man didn't know that he wasn't Klaus' father, the boy could only feel resentment for him for not being there that night. Then one day, the man just walked away, leaving him and his mother to fend for themselves. Klaus surmised that his mother must have finally told him the truth.
....In time he became torn because of the psychological connection between his birthday on Halloween and his conception on Christmas Eve. The two dates were to drive the angst within him throughout his adulthood.
....Soon, Santa Claus and the world would learn of him.

To be continued ...*

(Don't miss the conclusion in the next post in a sequel that could only be called : "New Santa On the Block!" )


Monday, December 18, 2006

A Redneck Night Before Christmas*

You might be saying (groan) - "Not another Redneck Christmas posting!" Miss Cellania put up a different version. They are both pretty good on their own merits.

A Redneck Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shack,
Not a durn thing was a movin', from the front to the back.

The kids was in bed, ...we had nine at the time,
The wife in her curlers, was lookin' real fine.

A cold wind was blowin', up the holler moaned,
All ten dogs on the porch howled and groaned.

The boys were all dreamin' of dogs and guns,
For huntin' God's creatures, .....there's no better fun!

The girls in their feminine dreams were attuned,
To getting those gallons of Wal-Mart perfume.

The wife wanted jewelry, like rings with big rocks,
I just wanted my pickup down off the blocks.

Then out in the yard, such a noise did commence,
Like something was caught in our new 'bobwar' fence.

I ran to the window, and saw pretty quick,
The man makin' that racket, was good Ol' St. Nick.

You may think of Santa in your own mind's eye,
Dressed in a red and white suit but, I've got a surprise.

That old boy's an Arkie, from up near Mt. Gaylor,
He married his cousin, and they live in a trailer.

On Christmas, of course, a sleigh for his rig,
He hooks the thing up to razorback pigs!

He climbed on the roof, with his bag full of goodies,
He backed down the fireplace, all dirty and sooty.

Fat legs in his britches, chubby hands in his mittens,
I must admit from the back, he looked like Bill Clinton.

He looked at the milk and cookies on the coffee table
He cursed and muttered, "What, no Carlings Black Label?"

He turned toward the tree, his eyes all aglow,
He was an Arkansas boy from his head to his toe.

His neck was a red one, his shirt said "Lite Beer",
He had no red hat on, but his cap read "John Deere".

He left all the presents, with an air of delight,
Then it was back to the chimney, and away in the night.

He fell in the yard, threw his bag in the sleigh,
Then he yelled at the dogs, "Get the heck out th' way!"

I ran out to ask him why he brought such good cheer;
But instead he just asked me, "Did you get you a deer?"

Then I heard him exclaim, as those pigs took to flight,
"Merry Christmas to all..... an to all, a good night!"

*This was "borrowed" from that most prolific of authors, Anonymous. (Although I did add the lines with coffee table and Carlings Black Label.)