Sunday, February 23, 2020

Yesterday, I changed a light bulb, crossed the street, and walked into a bar. My life is a joke.

Longer Jokes have been a bit "thin on the ground" here lately.  On the other hand, when I read the punch line on this one, I laughed loud enough to startle the dog and get the parrot chattering.

I think you'll like it.




Big Jake

It's a quiet day in the saloon when a cowboy runs in. With a panicked look on his face, he says, "Everybody run, I just got word that Big Jake is comin' to town!".

The bartender, who's new in town, is shocked to see everybody get up and run out. He grabs a patron by the bar and asks, "What' happening?".

"D-d-didn't you hear, man? Big Jake's comin' to town!"

The bartender is confused, but rolls with it. But, since he doesn't want people coming and looting the saloon, he decides to stick around.

Just then, the meanest, tallest, ugliest son-of-a-bitch the bartender's ever seen bursts into the room. He slams the door so hard it falls clean off its hinges. He's eight foot tall, and nearly as wide. Every inch of his face is either scarred or tattooed. His ears are pierced with two massive railroad spikes. He picks up a table and throws it straight down through the floor, just to show that he can.

He walks up to the bar and slams his fist down on it so hard that it splits clean in two. "HEY, BARKEEP!", he yells. "GIMME THAT BOTTLE O' WHISKEY!"

Shaking, the barkeeper hands the bottle over. In one massive gulp, he downs the entire bottle before smashing it over his own head. "NOW GIMME THAT BOTTLE O' TEQUILLA!"

Again, the barkeeper hands over the bottle, which the stranger downs in a single gulp before breaking the bottle over his head. He scoops up some of the glass and eats it, just to show how tough he is.

Wanting to stay on his good side, the bartender asks him, "I-i-is there anything else I can get you, sir?".

The stranger says "THANKS PARDNER, BUT I GOTS TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, FAST! I HEARD THAT BIG JAKE'S COMIN' TO TOWN!"

Saturday, February 22, 2020

How do intruders get inside your home? In through the window!

This first of three I quote all the time. 
Usually while smiling at the person I am talking to.  
You will see why very shortly!


Two physicists go hiking

A theoretical physicist and an applied physicist go hiking on the Appalachian Trail. Suddenly they spot a black bear running towards them. The applied physicist starts taking off his boots.

The theoretical physicist says, "It's not possible to outrun a bear."

The applied physicist says, "I don't. I just have to outrun you."




My nephew took a career placement test at school.

It told him he was going to be a pirate when he grew up. My sister was furious. She matched to the school and demanded to speak to his teacher.

"Why does this test say that my son is supposed to be a pirate?! Is this some kind of joke?"

The teacher calmly pulled out the boy's report card.

"No ma'am, it's not a mistake. As you can see here, your son has an affinity for High C's."



I once dated a masseuse...

On the first date she massaged my shoulders.

On the second date she massaged my feet.

On the third date she gave me a full body massage.

But, in the end it never worked out.

She kept giving me mixed massages

Wednesday, February 19, 2020

Bamboo Poles At The Back Of The Pool Or What To Do When It Gets Too Close To The Powerlines

Years ago at this point, probably about a decade, we went off to a Bamboo Nursery.

People in Asia love the stuff.  It's used heavily in construction, cuisine, art and so forth.  I figured I would have a ready supply of Bamboo to do oddball things with it. 

But this particular bamboo we brought home from the nursery has quirks.

We planted it further back, but over the years, it's gone closer to the pool and readily drops nearly indestructible leaves into the pool. 

As it matured, it has gotten thicker.  It started out smaller than my smallest finger, and was a clumping bamboo the size of a bucket.  Since we took the SUV to the Bamboo Nursery, we were able to stick the rootball in the back of the car, and have the greenery stick into the front of the cabin.

I remember riding back from Palm Beach County with my arm draped over top of it so the way home could be seen.

Now the thinner than my finger stalks have gotten thicker than my thumb, maybe two fingers wide.  It has gone from being a maximum of ten feet tall (3m) to growing taller than the highest supply lines on the electricity easement behind the house.  I'd say it's at least 30 feet (9M) and growing.

We noticed, then panicked since you are constantly looking over your shoulder in South Florida at the next hurricane season.  Those two stalks had to be cut down.

We did, and laying next to the pool I realized it was longer than the 32 foot (9m) length of the pool.  Even if my math here is being a little off, my estimates stand. 

Since the stalks we cut were too nice to throw away, I cut them into roughly 6 foot tall, shoulder length bits.  One of them is a handy Me Sized length and I am taller than 6 foot by another four inches.  (193 cm in new money).

But what to do?

At this point, I made an accent pot since putting plants at the back of the pool was a great idea until Hurricane Irma knocked my cactus into the deep end and all over the back of the pool.

I had a strawberry pot that I wasn't doing much with other than collecting dust.

I Know, Let's Put Together One Of Those Accent Pots!

Basically it's the least I could do.  I cut them with the electric saw to roughly the same length and stuck them there, at the back of the pool.  I will water them as much as I watered the cactus, which is to say, Not At All.

The leftover bits are going to be chewed up by my parrot Oscar, and there are two little lengths that will be shot glasses once I sand them smooth.

Or maybe not.  At least they won't create a circuit-to-ground from the high voltage wires!

Sunday, February 16, 2020

When does a dad joke become a dad joke? When it becomes apparent!

When I skate, I do so at a trail that circles an airport and a golf course.  Both service activities that skew older.  I feel like a youngster at my mid workout stop at the bench outside of the pro show at the golf course. 

Those golfers are as bemused by me as I am by them.  I roll up with my heart rate coming down from above 170BPM, drenched in sweat, dressed in shorts and t-shirt and protective pads.  I park myself and slam down that bottle of water that tastes so very good and almost always, I end up with people who are engaged by this seven foot tall with skates and helmet person. 

They always want to share their lives if for only a little bit, and it can be a rather nice turn of pace.

Then as my heart rate drops below 135 and it's time to go and burn another thousand calories.

Some of the folks there are quite old, and it reminded me of this story when I read it.



Two 90 year old men, Mike and Joe, have been friends all of their lives.

When it's clear that Joe is dying, Mike visits him every day.

One day Mike says, "Joe, we both loved football all our lives, and we played football on Saturdays together for so many years. Please do me one favour, when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's football there."

Joe looks up at Mike from his death bed, "Mike, you've been my best friend for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favour for you.

Shortly after that, Joe passes away.

A couple of nights later, at midnight, Mike is awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him, "Mike--Mike."

"Who is it ?" asks Mike sitting up suddenly. "Who is it?"

"Mike--it's me, Joe."

"You're not Joe. Joe just died."

"I'm telling you, it's me, Joe," insists the voice."

"Joe! Where are you?"

"In heaven", replies Joe. "I have some really good news and a little bad news."

"Tell me the good news first," says Mike.

"The good news," Joe says," is that there's football in heaven. Better yet, all of our old friends who died before us are here, too. Better than that, we're all young again. Better still, it's always spring time and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play football all we want, and we never get tired."

That's fantastic," says Mike. "It's beyond my wildest dreams !" "So, what's the bad news ?"

"You're in the team for this Saturday's match !!!"

Saturday, February 15, 2020

If you're happy and you know it, it's your meds!

At the end of the day, a Border Collie reported back to the rancher, "All 50 sheep accounted for, boss!"
"Wait, I only have 48 sheep!" he replied.
"I know," said the dog, "but I rounded them up."


I was sitting in a bar and some Comic Sans tried to hit on me.
I said, "Sorry, you're not my type."



I was eating lunch in the park when all of a sudden a crow landed in front of me and promptly keeled over on its side. I set my lunch down and leaned forward to see what the matter was.

In that moment, an owl swooped in, plucked my sandwich off the bench, and carried it up to the treetop above me. Imagine my further surprise when the crow sprang to its feet and fluttered up to join the owl in devouring my sandwich.

I think they were in caw-hoots.



A pilot and his co-pilot fly in an empty passenger plane.

Mid flight, the pilot decides to land the plane with the top of its head torwords the ground. The plane crashes, and everything goes boom. Neither of them survived.

In the after life, the co-pilot asks the pilot: "Why have you done this?"

The pilot answers: "I thought it would go Boeing."



My mother always used to say "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach"

Nice lady and all, I truly loved her, but a terrible surgeon

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

The Thump Of A Monarch Butterfly

We have weirdly friendly wildlife here in the middle of the suburban sprawl that is South Florida.

I regularly see opossums on my back porch, well technically a Lanai, but I'm not that posh.  I don't think they know what to think of me, but I do my Steve Irwin act and tell them that I mean them no harm and they should go about their business.

Bad Aussie sometimes included. 

Besides they eat ticks and neither me nor Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) like ticks.

There are flocks of white birds that land from time to time and pick through the yard eating grubs. 

Flocks of Feral Parrots making a racket in the trees. just after dawn and just before sunset.  That's the call to flock and it mirrors when Oscar the ornery Orange Wing Parrot that shares the house gets loud.  

I give him a quarter of an orange and he's quiet.

But the thing is that I really rarely know what I am going to come across. 

One morning I was out back for the yard inspection.  Every day, skim the pool, check the irrigation, and consider whether I can take more cuttings for propagation to build up the hedges or some such.

I stepped away from the house and felt something thump on my head.

Strange.  The birds out there are not quite that bold.  They yell at me, I imitate them and they get more annoyed, but they almost never get closer than ten feet. 

It could not have been a bird.

Going by the bougainvillea and the spa, my head got thumped again.

Ok, something is decidedly too friendly here.

Turns out that it was one of the Monarch Butterflies that are around the place.  I see one, at least, every day.  This one must have thought that yesterday's Apple Shampoo meant something in its little insect brain but couldn't find anything to eat.

Try my brains.  Brains good.  I'm not using them right now anyway!

It fluttered around the yard and ended up on the Bougainvillea behind my bedroom window.   He came to a landing and began to drink up his fill.   I say he because he had the spot on each of the back wings that denote that.

"Hey you little bugger, go have your fill!  That's why I keep that plant there!"

I went back to inspecting the Rosemary that is starting to take root under the Bougainvillea.  Pizza Spice for Ground Cover.  At least it will smell good.

I have a constant churn of butterfly friendly plants in the yard.   The milkweed regularly gets eaten down to wee sticks, and the butterflies lay their eggs there. 

I've got Poinsettia there, but the butterflies seem to ignore that.

As well as other oddball plants, it's an overfull garden.

Just the way I like it.  I have never lived in an empty property where there is a question of how do I want to put in the hedges.  I simply maintain it.  Filling in where necessary.

The scent of Jasmine on the breezes, the flowers of the red Hibiscus, the Podocarpus all fight it out to determine where We begin and They end. 

But plenty there for a wandering Monarch to land and eat.

And to thump me in the back of the head from time to time.

Sunday, February 9, 2020

To The guy who stole my antidepressants I hope you’re happy now!

Dr. Johnson is approached by Ted, a new vampire.

“I just got turned,” Ted tells him. “You gotta help me out. I need blood, and I don’t want to kill anyone.”

Dr. Johnson agrees to help, providing Ted with the blood bags he needs. He refers Ted to counseling to deal with the psychological effects of the change. He even lets Ted crash on his couch while he looks for a job with a night shift opening.

But a week later, during his rounds on the coma ward, Dr. Johnson notices suspicious marks on several necks.

Ted confesses. “I just couldn’t resist.”

Dr. Johnson sighs. “I wanted to help you. I really did. I gave you food, and I even offered you a place to stay. But now, Ted—”

Dr Johnson shakes his head. “You’re beginning to try my patients.”

Saturday, February 8, 2020

I got told to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. Now I’m a mile away and I have their shoes.

Sorry grandpa

So you are lying on your death bed and you spell something, something nice so you roll right off the bed crawling and you sense it is on the table and you try to stand up and you see your daughters delicious homemade cookies so you try to grab it but your daughter slaps your hand and says “those are for the funeral”



My son was just born and another dad at the nursery congratulated me and said his daughter was born yesterday he then chuckled and said maybe they'll marry each other.

I'm like yeah cuz my son is going to marry someone twice his age



The other day, I read that people eat more bananas than monkeys.

No surprises there. I can't remember the last time I ate a monkey.



Today, my son asked "Can I have a book mark?" and I burst into tears. 11 years old and he still doesn't know my name is Brian



I spotted several pairs of men’s Levi’s at a garage sale.

They were sizes 30, 31, and 32, but I was looking for size 33. So I asked the owner if he had a pair. He shook his head.

“I’m still wearing the 33s,” he said. “Come back next year.”

Wednesday, February 5, 2020

DIY Addict Goes On The Hunt For A Special Skate Screw With A Rare Thread

(Stands up)Hi, I'm Bill!

(Hi Bill!)
I'm a DIY Addict!

And here's my story. 

Not to minimize other's challenges in life, but this should be easier.

I'm that guy.  I drive a 19 year old Jeep Wrangler.  I still have and use radios, some of them have tubes in them.

Yes, actual Tubes.  Orange glow, hot musty smell, and so on. 

They may smell like old wood, but they really do sound much better than the internet feed I'm listening to at this moment.

That would be Valves for my friends Ol' Blighty.

Why is that?  Simple, I fix things.   Always have.  All the way down to soldering individual components on a printed circuit board.

I remember deeply annoying my father because before he had a chance to get his tape player fixed in the car, I did the repair for him.  It was just a thrown belt off the tape mechanism. 

I could see him wind up to get loud and start a shouting match but "Hey, it works now, go play your tapes" was all I said.

Then I walked out and hid in the bedroom where I kept the shortwave radio and tuned in Radio Canada International.  9625 MHz.  They aren't there anymore.  Too bad, the news was always better there. 

That era was where I got hooked on listening to the World Service Of The BBC and the time signal "pips" from the relay in Sackville, New Brunswick, Canada.

I know, I was weird.  Still am, now it's all in Spanish and I tell myself it helps my studies.

But all this equipment needs maintenance. 

My car, My radios, and even my skates.

I just didn't think that having "Old Things That Need Maintenance" would include my workouts.

You see, I beat myself up on the trails, hard.  Yesterday was a 2 hour, 2000 calories, 15 mile endurance skate.  Average heart rate is 170BPM, or near enough to that.

I consider that an easy morning at the park.

I have three pairs of skates that I trade off with.  Two are from the last century.  I always have a spare pair in the Jeep when I get to the park.  If the chafing is too bad from the hot spots, I can always stick a square of moleskin on the spot and go on, or if I 'Throw A Bolt" and lose a wheel, I can swap out the skates and get back on the trail.

That throwing bolts thing.  You see, that's why god made Lock Washers.  Oh, and Permatex Blue.  You have both of those things and your bolts won't fly off when you're on a corner, and at the speeds I do, falling is guaranteed to cause injury.  They just aren't standard issue on a pair of skates.

I had found some $5 Skates at a local thrift store, still in the box with the original information.  They weren't anything special but they were NEW.  With that new boot smell.  Tried once and tossed away.  My Good skates are from before 2003 and parts are dry rotting off of the boots.

So I snagged them, used my discounts, and eventually tried them out.

If you are one of the new people considering skating as a sport instead of just tootling around the neighborhood behind your children on the Cul De Sac in the suburbs, let me clue you in.

If your skates are less than $150, they are going to be junk.  If you don't have a truck (frame for the wheels) that is either Carbon Fiber or some sort of metal, there will be too much flex and you will hate them.

I knew these were ... ahem ... modest boots, but I had skated more than 10,000 miles on similar boots back in the first skating boom.  I had modded them with a Speed Kit and Heat Molding.

Heat Molding is applying a heat gun to a plastic part to make it soft and to use something that is not heat conducting to push that part into a better shape.  I used a bamboo stick I cut from my yard, and the boots are much more comfortable.

Now, I could have a skate shop here.  Easily.  As in a proper "Pro Shop".  It's not a brag, I have skated total just under 22,000 miles (in old money) or 35,405 KM for the imperially impaired. 

You don't do that without picking up some tricks.

In this case, you replace the bearings with some faster ones.  I have a couple of old cottage cheese containers crammed with bearings that have been cleaned, lubed, and certified for use.

Next, you replace the wheels with harder and larger wheels.  80 MM wheels, at least 80A hardness, but closer to 90A is better for speed.  Some folks ride on wheels that belong on the bottom of my wheely bin out front - 125 MM tall - Five Freakin' Inches tall!  On Inline Skates!  WOO HOO!  Speeeeeeed!  I CAN'T STOP!  (OOF!)

Now, bearings and wheels are upgraded.  What next?  What sick trick is Mr DIY going to do with this pair of (ahem) low end skates?

Speed Kit.  At least that is what we called them back in the first skate boom. 

I have a different cottage cheese container with a bunch of speed kits.   Typically low end skates come with white plastic things that fit between the bearings to space out things and give rigidity.   Put them in the trash.

My cottage cheese container is stuffed with Aluminum Spacers.  To be fair, they're probably good enough for "you". 

In my case, I need faster.   I need a pair with bolts.  They're screwed in place to minimize friction and stiffen them.   They are set up so that the wheels run free when spun for as long as you have a mind to lube the darn things up.

I had a bunch I scavenged off old skates and closed up skate stores over the years but as time goes on, you start losing parts.  Move 1200 miles south and you lose more.

I found I have 16 speed kits, but only 7 complete sets.   A Set is a spacer that is threaded, a pair of lock washers, and a pair of screws.

So this being a precision set up, turning a Leisure Activity into a proper Sport, of course I needed another speed kit, at least.

Should be easy to find those screws, right?

WRONG.  BUZZ!  TRY AGAIN!

Apparently the two big box hardware stores, that everyone knows, decided that they don't have the demand to carry that specific screw to hold everything in place. 

Lock washers we have! 

But those bolts.  Have you ever considered how many different bolts there are?

Mr DIY has.  There are bolts with three kinds of methods to tighten them, more if you want to be really annoying.  Regular slotted screw heads are no good on a trail.  Phillips cross head screws can work but that means you take your skate tool with you for the eventual breakdown.   The original speed kit had two "1/4 inch, 28 thread, button head socket cap, 3/4 inch long". 

Yeah I didn't think so.  Apparently it's only used in weird applications.  Different threads you see.  Like my soon to be upgraded cheap skate boots.

Went to Orange Big Box store #1.  Nope

Went to Blue Big Box store #2.  Nada, although I really entertained the folks there when I rolled in on a pair of skates to the screws and bolts needed on my skates for more parts.  They were unnerved by me being over 7 feet tall in skates, helmet, pads and sweaty from the workout.   Sorry folks.

Went to old line hardware store with the helpful hardware man.  Helpful but sorry.  Had a nice chat about my 19 year old Jeep Wrangler TJ.  4 liter AMC Inline six.  Never kill engine.

Finally went to the other old line hardware store with a different hardware guy. 

I won't say success.  I ended up finding a screw with the right threads and length but it has a cross head Phillips in the top.  Everything else fits.

So if you are out on the trail in Pompano Beach and throw a bolt on your speed kit, I have a spare.

Even if the Sport is getting slowly more popular, it's doubtful you'll spot me fly past so I'll skate on happily.

You see, my own Pro Shop Standard is a minimum of 30 seconds worth of free rolling once you start.   I really want a minute.  I'll let you know how that all works out.

Sunday, February 2, 2020

What starts with a T, ends with a T & has T inside? Teapot

Career Choices

As a child, I thought about being a musician, but all my efforts fell flat.

In High School, my teachers seemed to be pushing a career as an astronaut, but then I realized they had something else in mind when they said I was “a real space cadet.”

My first job was working in an orange juice factory, but I got canned because I couldn’t concentrate.

Then I worked in the woods as a lumberjack, but I couldn’t hack it, so they gave me the axe.

I had hopes of being a professional Bridge player, but I had no finesse so they shuffled me out the door.

Next, I became a personal trainer, but was asked to leave because I wasn’t working out.

I tried working in a muffler factory, but I found that too exhausting.

So, I attempted to be a deli worker, but any way I sliced it, I couldn’t cut the mustard.

I studied a long time to become a doctor, but in the end I didn’t have the patients for it.

Next was a job in a shoe factory. I tried, I really did, but I just didn’t fit in.

As a professional fisherman, I couldn’t catch on and hence I couldn’t live on my net income.

So I tried computer software, but couldn’t get with the program.

I thought I might be one of those professional eaters—pies, hot dogs, and the like—but I didn’t have the stomach for it.

After many years of trying to find steady work, I finally got a job as a historian—until I realized there was no future in it.

I was beginning to feel like my grandfather who was an executioner in the old West. He could never get the hang of it, so they cut him loose.

My last job was working in Starbucks, but I eventually quit because it was always the same old grind.

So I tried retirement, and you know what? I’m perfect for the job.

Saturday, February 1, 2020

What's worse than a pathological liar? A pathological truth teller.

I live in a city where there are literally herds of Ducks wandering around.

It started when a woman with no life and serious OCD started feeding them.

Then I ended up with 17 of them literally on my front porch that is about the size of a California King Bed.

Then we noticed foxes started showing up in the neighborhood.

When you have ducks breeding, you have baby ducks.  When you have baby ducks and foxes, the foxes win.

The moral of that story is If You Want To Feed Foxes, Toss Some Crackers at the Ducks.


And on that subject of Ducks...


A woman brought a very limp duck to Dr.Santa, a veterinary surgeon.

As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the duck’s chest.

After a moment or two, the vet shook his head sadly and said, “I’m sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away.”

The distressed woman wailed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure. The duck is dead,” replied Dr.Santa.

“How can you be so sure?” she protested. “I mean you haven’t done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something.”

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room.

He returned a few minutes later with a Labrador. As the duck’s owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.

The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room.

A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and strolled out of the room.

The vet looked at the woman and said, “I’m sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck.”

Dr.Santa turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman. The duck’s owner, still in shock, took the bill. “$150!” she cried, “$150 just to tell me my duck is dead!”

The vet shrugged, “I’m sorry. If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $10, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it’s now $150.”

Wednesday, January 29, 2020

Confusing The Dog With The Haunted Poang

Having a routine is best for your dog. 

They confuse so easily.

The UPS/FedEx/USPS drivers come through and I know that it happens because I hear a low grumble from Our Corner of the living room.

Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) has gravitated to a specific spot.  Right next to My Chair in the living room.

My Chair in an All In The Family sense is where I sit.  My Spot.  So he sits there, on a pair of foam pads rescued from a long departed Poang chair that is wrapped in a blanket.  It's right there at my feet. 

We hold discussions, mostly about what I am (constantly) snacking on.  Whether he can be involved in what I am doing.  Whether he can get what I am snacking on.

I used to have the second Big Green Chair in that corner before.  It is moved for now into the middle of the living room because an Ikea Poang Chair just fits my 6'4"/193CM, 220 pound/100KG frame like a glove. 

Nobody seems to like these chairs who visit us here.  I don't understand why they all have to try them out and then bounce out to the couch or one of the big chairs either, but it works out for me.

This Poang is a new one which means it will probably live another 20 years in this house as My Rocking Chair. 

I was at Ikea in Sunrise, FL with a friend who gave me the chair for Xmas because I refused to get out of the floor sample at the store.  I guess he got tired of hearing me talk about how comfortable they are "for me".

This particular morning, I sat down in The Other Big Green Chair on the opposite side of the
little table from Our Corner.  Using the electric razor I sat back.  Rack was on his bed in Our Corner happily grooming his oldest hedgehog toy.  It now looks like all the hair has been removed except a patch here and there, and he goes to that one over all the rest.

Our Boy Rack was lost in the Daddy Zone grooming that little hedgehog when I looked over at him.  He didn't notice me as I reached over to the poang rocker.  I couldn't see what he was up to so I moved it gently.

It was at this point where I confused Rack.  I might say freaked him out.

Chairs don't move on their own.
Nobody was in the Poang Rocker.
Dad was in the Big Green Chair.

What was going on?

WHAT WAS GOING ON?!?!?

All that went through his furry black and white mind as every last bit of fur on his body went up on his body and he turned into a Looney Tunes parody of a scared dog.

He immediately forgot about his child, the mostly bald hedgehog.   Forgot about his comfort zone.  Forgot about being in the little corner with the little dog bed.

He basically ripped tire scrabbling across the floor to get away from my haunted Poang that fits my back and nobody else's. 

I had to stop shaving when I had 45 pounds of black and white dog hiding on my other side
from the weird pieces of furniture that moved on their own.

Looking down into those twin brown eyes, I had lasers burning into my soul imploring me to explain why things were moving on their own.

My own laugh was answer enough.  He visibly deflated and went off duty to gingerly walk back into his corner.

Laying down on his bed in the corner next to the Haunted Poang, he plastered himself against the far wall in that little space, returning to his old hedgehog and the morning routine.

The moral of the story is if you are going to Rock Your World, make sure your dog knows you are still in it.


Sunday, January 26, 2020

How do you make Bears listen to a story? Take away the B and they’re all ears.

The broken light

Recently I was having trouble with my light switch so I called for the maintenance guy.

An old grizzled Chinese man arrived shortly after and inspected the switch. He stated that the light switch was working perfectly fine but noted that indeed it was not working as I had said.

"This is not a job for just one person. You need more people to help you." He said, so I got my wife to help. Still no good.

"More people" he said as he saw it still not working. So at that point, I got my son and daughter to help as well but still no luck

"Many more." He said. Luckily the neighbors were home and after a quick discussion with them I had the whole clan from next door over to help. In total there were now 11 people, plus the maintenance man in the lounge.

At this point the maintenance man tells me to get everyone to touch the switch and to try it again and sure enough, it worked. I was flabbergasted and asked how and why this had worked now where it wouldn't before with just myself

He replied " Many hands make light work"

Saturday, January 25, 2020

I'm trying out this new all-sugar diet. It's pretty sweet.




The thing is that over my life, I've had to rebuild my body three times. 



There was a time my bike got hit by a speeding car, a car wreck, and a dropped motorcycle.

I've found that I can do it, but really nobody should have to rebuild themselves.  Once is quite enough.

Working out can be a blast, like these insane inline skate workouts that I used to do and have to slow myself down from doing again.   13.5 miles instead of 33 and that sort of thing where a workout becomes an Exercise in Logistics instead of maintaining a steady 173 BPM heart rate over an hour and a half.

If you are looking down at your belt and it ... disappears, it's time to look at ways to burn an extra calorie or five in many ways.  When I blew my knee out during a race, I found myself getting off the train an extra stop, then two to walk the extra distance.

I'd get to work and for a while, I would climb the stair tower up and down to the office.  Since the office was up on the Ninth Floor, it was a respectable way to burn a few.

These folks here, well they're working on the 60th floor.  I'd suspect if they're climbing a 60 floor stair tower, they are nowhere near Fort Lauderdale, and have other problems to look after.



Three friends work in a skyscraper

All three friends work at the 60th floor.
One day the elevator doesn't work so they have to take the stairs.
The three friends make a decision that one of them will sing for 20 floors, the next will make jokes for the next 20 floors and the last friend will tell tall tales for the last 20 floors.

Once the friends reach the 40th floor the friends had a great time. The songs and jokes were appreciated.
Now it's the turn of the last friend, and the tall tales are also very much appreciated.

When they reach the door of their office at the 60th floor the friend of the tall tales and says:

"I have another tall tale for you guys, I forgot the keys to the office..."

Wednesday, January 22, 2020

Planting A Lemon Tree In A Stump - Video


Youtube has an amazing amount of videos on it. 

Some of them are amazing.  I don't really think this one is amazing, but it did give me an excuse to use the time lapse feature on the camera.

Then hacked a bunch of titles on to it.

So the slightly longer story is that I had a rather beautiful palm tree in the backyard.  It was about 30 plus feet tall and you could see it easily a block away.

I did say "had".

It got sick, infected with some sort of fungus, and started to die off.

We removed the tree, and it produced a trash can lid sized stump in the grass that was begging to have something done to it.

In the meantime, I was growing a lemon tree from seed because we couldn't find just the kind of lemon tree that someone wanted.

You know "Regular" Lemons.  Not Meyer Lemons or Stripey ones or giant ones.  Regular.

Since the yard is over planted, and I have zero room for anything else, I got the bright idea to grind the stump in the yard and create a planter.

Believe it or not, what gave me the idea was a Grizzly Bear. 

Actually the Bear was a statue created by an Artist in Solebury Township, PA.

See, if you are heading to New Hope, PA from my old house in Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, PA, you drive North on US 202 past Doylestown, PA.  Once you are getting close to New Hope, you reach a curve.  On the curve is an artist who makes things with chainsaws.  Believe it or not they're quite nice, although I can't see having a ten foot tall wooden Grizzly Bear on my little property up there, so I never got one.

The yard is way too small for a Grizzly Bear here, but if he can cut away a stump to make a bear, I certainly could hack my way through to make a hole to put a Lemon Tree Seedling.

Or it will be "A Tree" in five years or more.  Maybe we will get lemons from it, I don't know.

To paraphrase the old parable, If you want to drink Lemonade today, You should have planted the lemon tree five years ago.

After all, someone here wanted one, and I figured I owed him something.  More than that little seedling tree at any rate and it is the right type of tree. 

Besides, his birthday is coming up so while I won't call this a birthday present, I will call it a "gesture".

Happy Gesture, enjoy your little tree.

Oh, and there are two more that I have to find homes for, so unless you want me getting "creative" planting things, you may want to make a "sug-gesture" of your own.

Sunday, January 19, 2020

What did the 0 say to the 8? Nice belt!

Nothing like a few short jokes to clear your head, and today I am continuing that on from yesterday.

Just look at them and smile, I'm sure there's something to be a bit edgy for someone here!


---- Short Jokes ----
An eight year old girl went to office with her dad on “Take your kids to work Day”...

As they were walking around the little girl starting crying and getting very cranky. Her father asked what was wrong with her.

As the staff gathered round, she sobbed loudly: “Daddy, where are all the clowns you said you worked with?”

...

A woman was walking home with her 3 daughters.
The first one asked here “Mom why did you chose my name” and the mom says “Well, when we were walking home from the hospital a rose petal fell on your head so we named you Rose”

The second daughter then asks. “What about me?” The mom responds “On the way home from the hospital a lily petal fell onto your head sober called you Lily.”

The third daughter then says “HHHGGGGGHGLLHHHGGGGGGGGFFFFLFFFGHGG” And the mom replies “Hush now cinder block”

....



A German tourist jumped in the freezing water to save my drowning dog

A German tourist jumped in the freezing water to save my drowning dog, after he climbed out he handed me my dog and said "Here is your dog, keep him dry and warm and he will be fine" I asked, "Are you a vet?".

He replied, "Vet? I am soaking"

Saturday, January 18, 2020

Slept like a log last night... woke up in the fireplace..

Actually that's not strictly true.  I don't have a fireplace in my house.  It's in Florida, and if you are lucky you get to use it once a year. 

On the other hand, a couple of my neighbors have a Chiminea or an outside fireplace.  It's always a little odd when you step outside and smell burning wood, but they do enjoy sitting out there.



A man and a woman were traveling in a train.
Woman : Every time you smile,feel like inviting you to my place.
Man: Awwww ... Are you single?

Woman: No. I'm a dentist.




Mahatma Gandhi was a strange person.

He walked barefoot everywhere, to the point that his feet became quite thick and hard.
He often went on hunger strikes, and even when he wasn't on a hunger strike, he did not eat much and became quite thin and frail.
He also was a very spiritual person.
Finally, because he didn't eat much and when he did his diet was peculiar, he developed very smelly breath.

He eventually became known as a super-calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.



A guy walks into a bar and asks the bartender what time the most beautiful women show up at...

The bartender tells him "It's all in the eye of the beer holder"



Two muffins are in an oven

The first muffin says "Oh my, it's getting hot in here!"

The second muffin turns around in shock and screams, "OH MY GOD! A TALKING MUFFIN!"

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

How Long Will They Stay, or, If It Doesn't Bring You Joy, Set It Free

Over the last few years there have been a bunch of articles.

Actually quite a few articles, so I'll be lazy and not look for them.

One after another says that when the Boomer goes into the Home, the Millennial doesn't want "It".

"It" being "Brown Furniture".  It's also the Great Generation's China that the Boomer inherited as well as a long list of things that they can't be bothered with.

I've come to realize that those Millennials are making a whole lot of sense.

You see, last weekend we went to Ikea. You know the place?  Giant box of a store filled with right-sized food, furniture that you build yourself, and everything is named by throwing a dart at a Swedish Telephone Book?  I am rather fond of Ikea, and the clean lines on the furniture and the names and the possibility of getting some of those awesome cookies at the end is all part of the fun.

Besides being given a Poang Rocking Chair that I am enjoying very much, we got a China Cabinet.  I've been trained to call them a Tallboy, but that could just be my own warped version of English so pay me never mind.

It took all weekend to get the mother-lode of boxes into the house, opened, proofread, and then assembled.  The tallboy is taller than I am so it is truly tall.

To get this beast of a piece of white furniture where it is needed, we had to clear out the old cabinet of its glassware.

Now, Husvik the Tallboy, and Poang the Rocker live in my dining room.

This was where I realized the wisdom of the Millennial.

I was confronted with my glassware from when I was in my first apartment.  Some glasses leftover from when I was a child.  Some more glasses that I pulled out of the landscaping over the years.

Rather a lot of glassware.  In fact so much so that we began to pile it and all the Onesie-Twosie oddball glasses into a low box.

After considering how to get rid of all that strange one off and two off drink-ware, I merely moved the box out to the front of the property.

After all, how much of this stuff can you use at any given moment?   We have never had an actual party in this house, despite knowing that it was the party house on the block before my boring self moved in.

Swimming pool and Dry Bar not withstanding.

So how did it go?  The box is still out in front of the house.  I'm going to keep putting it out in the morning, and picking it up at night until it is gone or the next trash day happens.

Stay tuned, Fellow Babies, Stay tuned!

So I waited.  The box went out there at 8 in the morning.  Mind you, I live on a street with a fair amount of foot traffic.  People walk from apartments and day rentals to the Shops and Restaurants here all day long.

Lunch came. 

Box Stayed.

Mid afternoon crash happened.  Not too happy about that Nod-Off but blood sugar and high metabolism will do that to an athlete.

Box stayed.

Dinner hour hit.  I walked Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM).

Came home and the box was still there.

I stood up to close the blinds and was told that I should just close the blinds and ignore it.  We just don't want a box of potential missiles to reside on the driveway over night.

It turns out that in the first half hour of night, someone came by and moved my weird mismatched glasses on to their new home.

No more Crown Royal Old Fashioned Glasses.
No more Highball Glasses.
Gone is the cut glass goblet (singular, all the rest suffered deceleration trauma over the years). 
Even the "extra" glass that came from a Bag Of Crap that once blinked from LEDs in the bottom of it.

Goodnight Glasses, er Moon!

Bye Bye!  With my blessings. 

Now if I can just get rid of those plastic tubs of weird stuff in the back room... Hmmm.  Maybe a handful a day... I wonder if I can get away with that?

Sunday, January 12, 2020

What did the green grape say to the purple grape? BREATHE!

With the usual weekend dementia, here's a story about a talking dog.  Personally, I think all dogs talk, I'm just not sure all people listen.



A guy sees a sign in front of a house that says “Talking Dog for Sale.” He rings the bell and the owner tells him the dog is in the backyard. The guy goes into the backyard and sees a black mutt just sitting there.

“You talk?” he asks.

“Yep,” the mutt replies.

“So, what’s your story?”

The mutt looks up and says: “Well, I discovered my gift of talking pretty young and I wanted to help the government, so I told the CIA about my gift, and in no time they had me jetting from country to country, sitting in rooms with spies and world leaders, because no one figured a dog would be eavesdropping. I was one of their most valuable spies eight years running.

“The jetting around really tired me out, and I knew I wasn’t getting any younger and I wanted to settle down. So I signed up for a job at the airport to do some undercover security work, mostly wandering near suspicious characters and listening in. I uncovered some incredible dealings there and was awarded a batch of medals. Had a wife, a mess of puppies, and now I’m just retired.”

The guy is amazed. He goes back in and asks the owner what he wants for the dog.

The owner says: “Ten dollars.”

The guy says: “This dog is amazing. Why on earth are you selling him, so cheap?”

The owner replies: “He’s just a big liar. He didn’t do any of that stuff.”

Saturday, January 11, 2020

What keeps the ocean from leaking out? The seals.

How about a couple of "Dad Jokes" that are suitable for all audiences?



A broccoli, a tomato, and a yam were running in a race.

The broccoli got off to a great start, but being a green runner, he didn’t have enough stamina to finish the race. The yam and the tomato were neck and neck for the first mile, but the tomato fell behind. The yam was about to reach the end of the race when he collapsed from exhaustion right in front of the finish line. Over the course of the next hour, the tomato ran the entire length of the race, and won.

Why was the tomato so successful?

The tomato paste himself.


---- Now, I am embarrassed that I like this one so much.  I remember telling it to my nephew when he was a small child and he was laughing about it all weekend!  ----



Mamma gets Tommy a turtle for his birthday . . .

3 days later she checks it and sees it's covered with nasty bloody scabs all over the bottom. So she takes it back for an exchange.

2 days later she sees this one also has the same wounds on it's belly.

She marches back to the pet store with Tommy on tow and yells at the manager that she wants a good healthy turtle this time. The manager is baffled, none of the other customers have had this issue. So he hands her the best turtle he has.

Tommy picks it up and gets on his knees, takes the turtle and swipes in on the floor yelling VRROOM! VROOM!

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Cinnamon Brown Sugar Tortilla Recipe

Actually, I hesitate to call this a recipe.

It's so simple.

On the other hand since my metabolism is through the roof with all the cardio I do, I sometimes need a snack NOW! at odd hours and this is perfect for that.

As prepared, this is only 95 calories.  Your counts can vary depending on the size of things but here we go!

And it's so easy it's one of those kid friendly things you can do.

Ingredients:
  • 1 Six Inch Flour Tortilla
  • 1 Teaspoon Brown Sugar
  • A Dusting of Ground Cinnamon to taste

Preparation:
  • Take a six inch flour tortilla out of the package and place it on the rack of the toaster oven.
  • Dust the tortilla liberally with Ground Cinnamon to taste.
  • Pour the Brown Sugar on top of the Ground Cinnamon and mix it evenly.  I use my finger (don't tell!).
  • Slide the rack back into the toaster oven and toast until tan and crispy.
  • When done, allow to cool and slice into pieces as needed.

Yep!  That's it.  Like I said, I hesitate to call this a recipe.  More of a snack, and something after a workout to boost my blood sugar back to normal so I don't fall asleep in the chair.

Enjoy!


Sunday, January 5, 2020

The first sign of madness is talking to yourself. The second sign is replying.

Say what you will about Southern Culture, they have a way with a story.  There is a long tradition of artfully telling a story down here that is difficult to top.


This is one of those stories that has been told and retold. 

Heck, I may be retelling it here again.

Oh wait!  It's a blog, of course I am!



The Southern Grandma

-Lawyers should never ask a Mississippi grandma a question if they aren't prepared for the answer.

In a trial, a Southern small-town prosecuting attorney called his first witness, a grandmotherly, elderly woman to the stand. He approached her and asked, 'Mrs. Jones, do you know me?'

She responded, 'Why, yes, I do know you, Mr. Williams. I've known you since you were a boy, and frankly, you've been a big disappointment to me. You lie, you cheat on your wife, and you manipulate people and talk about them behind their backs. You think you're a big shot when you haven't the brains to realize you'll never amount to anything more than a two-bit paper pusher. Yes, I know you.'

The lawyer was stunned. Not knowing what else to do, he pointed across the room and asked, 'Mrs. Jones, do you know the defense attorney?'

She again replied, 'Why yes, I do. I've known Mr. Bradley since he was a youngster, too. He's lazy, bigoted, and he has a drinking problem. He can't build a normal relationship with anyone, and his law practice is one of the worst in the entire state. Not to mention he cheated on his wife with three different women. One of them was your wife. Yes, I know him.'

The defense attorney nearly died.

The judge asked both counselors to approach the bench and, in a very quiet voice, said,

'If either of you idiots asks her if she knows me, I'll send you both to the electric chair.'

Saturday, January 4, 2020

Once upon a time, a guy had dementia. What was I writing again?

I had some pretty good professors when I went to University.  Some of them were intensely engaging, and they kept me interested. 

My favorite one was in Economics, a basic knowledge of which will help you realize how much, er, Nonsense you are being fed by the people who you voted in.


I can absolutely see him making a speech like this one.

And just think!  You don't have to pay $100 a Credit Hour to hear it!




Marketing concepts.

 Professor at college explaining marketing concepts to Students:

    You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say: "I am very rich. "Marry me!" - That's Direct Marketing"

    You're at a party with a bunch of friends and see a gorgeous girl. One of your friends goes up to her and pointing at you says: "He's very rich. "Marry him." -That's Advertising"

    You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and get her telephone number. The next day, you call and say: "Hi, I'm very rich. "Marry me - That's Telemarketing"

    You're at a party and see gorgeous girl. You get up and straighten your tie, you walk up to her and pour her a drink, you open the door (of the car) for her, pick up her bag after she drops it, offer her ride and then say: "By the way, I'm rich. Will you "Marry Me?" - That's Public Relations

    You're at a party and see gorgeous girl. She walks up to you and says:"You are very rich! "Can you marry ! me?" - That's Brand Recognition

    You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say: "I am very rich. Marry me!" She gives you a nice hard slap on your face. - "That's Customer Feedback"

    You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and say: "I am very rich. Marry me!" And she introduces you to her husband. - "That's demand and supply gap"

    You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and before you say anything, another person come and tell her: "I'm rich. Will you marry me?" and she
    goes with him - "That's competition eating into your market share"

    You see a gorgeous girl at a party. You go up to her and before you say: "I'm rich, Marry me!" your wife arrives. - "That's restriction for entering new markets"

Wednesday, January 1, 2020

Happy New Year 2020

All done with Amateur Night I see?

You have hopefully made it home safe without any ahem "legal" problems.


Yeah, we don't particularly like it when people imbibe and drive.  It's become less and less socially acceptable to do so during my lifetime.

I will say that the town doesn't look like it was picked up and dropped after that party that started a block and a half away just after sunset and lasted until after midnight. 

Supposedly the fireworks that freaked my dog out until he lost control of his bowels at the front door had ended around 2 AM.

He may be a McNab SuperDog (TM) but Rack is in the
majority of dogs that simply don't fathom why people need to celebrate turning the page on the calendar by using explosive devices long past the point where they ceased to be entertaining.

I'll be doing an extra laundry today.

And obviously, this happens more than once a year. 

So take down the old calendar.  My new one for 2020 is already on the door, and I don't see that I need another one, perfectly.

Pun Intended.

If you will excuse me I have to "spatch" a
chicken for lunch.  We found a Lemon Spatch Cooked Skillet Chicken recipe and apparently I am the little old lady with the technique.  Spatching a chicken is cutting it along the ribcage to be able to flatten it out.  You can do it with a sharp knife or a pair of scissors, but I think I just may grab the electric sawsall and pretend that I'll be doing some heavy construction instead of preparing a tasty meal.

So may your chickens be spatched, your dog be not freaked out, and your new year be bright and shiny and in focus.

Happy New Year 2020, where ever you may be reading this.