As less and less people are buying into religion, Prophets are down!

 Perfect one liner for a sunday, eh?  Here's another one for you!


 
 Too much plastic surgery

In surgery for a heart attack, a middle-aged woman has a vision of God by her bedside. “Will I die?” she asks.

God says, “No. You have 30 more years to live.”

With 30 years to look forward to, she decides to make the best of it.

Since she’s in the hospital, she gets breast implants, liposuction, a tummy tuck, hair transplants, and collagen injections in her lips.

She looks great!

The day she’s discharged, she exits the hospital with a swagger, crosses the street, and is immediately hit by an ambulance and killed.

Up in heaven, she sees God. “You said I had 30 more years to live,” she complains.

“That’s true,” says God.

“So what happened?” she asks.

God shrugs. “I didn’t recognize you.”

Two cannibals were eating a clown. One asks, "Does this taste funny to you?"

 OK I actually groaned at that topic when I pasted the one liner in as a topic.  My life is turning into a dad joke!

And while I am at it, I may as well use a (groan) Blond Joke today.  Enjoy if you can!




 
 The Blond

A blonde, a brunette and a redhead are stuck on an island.

One day, the three of them are walking along the beach and discover a magic lamp.

They rub and rub, and sure enough, out pops a genie.

The genie says, “Since I can only grant three wishes, you may each have one.”

The brunette says, “I’ve been stuck here for years. I miss my family, my husband, and my life.

I just want to go home.” POOF!

The brunette gets her wish and she is returned to her family.

Then, the red head says, “I’ve been stuck here for years as well. I miss my family, my husband, and my life.

I wish I could go home too.” POOF!

The redhead gets her wish and she is returned to her family.

The blonde starts crying uncontrollably.

The genie asks, “My dear, what’s the matter?”

The blonde whimpers, “I wish my 2-friends were still here.”

Three Ingredient Pizza Crust for One Serving.

While my pizza sauce recipe tastes like I remember out of a pizza parlor of the good old days, my crusts are never that great.

Lately my crusts have been a 12 inch tortilla with all the toppings.  Kind of an Italian Quesadilla.  Sure, it lowers the calories to 1000 per pie, but it is missing "something".

When I saw a recipe promising a Three Ingredient Pizza crust, I had to try it.  I downloaded it, and followed the directions and ... Meh.  A floppy crust.

But it was fresh and I could make it in under 15 minutes.

So here ya go, it's pared down to be a single 7 inch pizza crust.  If you want a full sized pizza (12 inch or so) double this recipe.

The plus to all of this is that it is dead simple.  Hard to go wrong if you have the ingredients.

Ingredients

• 1/3 cup or 52g of All Purpose Flour
• 1/3 teaspoon (about 1.5g) of Baking Powder
• 1/3 cup of 90g of Plain Greek Yogurt.

Process

• To a mixing bowl, add the Flour and Baking Powder.
• Whisk the ingredients together.
• Fold in and mix the Greek Yogurt until it makes a dough ball.
• You may want to add a little extra Flour for the correct consistency.
• Roll the dough ball out to a crust on floured surface.

Cooking

• Preheat to medium, an appropriate skillet with a little olive oil.
• Add the rolled out crust to the skillet and cook until toasted.
• Flip and repeat until both sides are lightly brown to taste.
• Add the toppings and bake.

To the guy who sold me this cloning machine, how do you live with yourself?

When I am out and about making giant lazy squares around an airport there is a stable.  Horseys.  So today, Sunday, I have to do something else this morning instead of sitting in the chair.  I'm going to see if an old race horse can talk.



 An old race horse and a young race horse


So an old race horse is talking to a young race horse in a stable the night before the big race.

'Now, young feller' says the old racehorse, 'do you know what happens to an old horse who wins his last race?' For he was getting long in the tooth and knew that his final race would be upon him soon if not tomorrow.

'No, grandfather,' said the young horse. 'I'm not sure what happens to old race horses who win their last race.'

'Well my boy, it's wonderful. They get put out to stud in the best pastures. They eat the best food, they live a long luxurious retirement, and they get to spend time with all the loveliest young fillies.'

'That sounds wonderful, grandfather'

'Ah, but do you know what happens to an old race horse that loses his last race?'

'Well, no grandfather I don't know.'

'Well, unfortunately any old horse that loses their last race will be sent to the glue factory. They will be dismembered and never get to taste the wonderful delights that await the horse who wins his last race.'

'Oh. Oh no.' The young horse was distraught to be burdened with this news.

'So you see, my son, my young lad,' continued the old racehorse, 'Why I am asking you--neigh, I am begging you!--to please let me win the race tomorrow.'

The old racehorse barreled on: 'Let's be frank, you and I. I am old and you are young. I am facing my last race, if not tomorrow then the next day. You are young and full of piss and vinegar. I am old and worn. Everyone knows that in a straight race you will beat me.'

'That is why, young feller, please from the bottom of my heart I am begging you to let me win tomorrow so that I can go on to the good life in the pasture instead of the glue factory.'

The young horse pondered this for a long moment. Finally, he clicked his teeth and looked back at the old horse. 'I sure would love to help you Grandpa. I sure would! But the problem is, you see, if a young race horse like me loses to an old race horse like you, Well they just might go and throw me in the glue factory. I'm sure you understand it's nothing personal. It's just that, like you, I'm trying to stay out of that place. I sure wish I could help you though.'

As I'm sure you understand, the old racehorse is devastated.

But this whole time a wise old hound has been listening to the conversation. Finally, he raises his head and calls upon the young racehorse: 'Come on, give the old guy a chance, will you?'

Both horses jump! 'Holy crap!' says the younger horse. 'A talking dog!'

Thinking about how dumb you’d have to be to not notice someone living in your attic. That’s why i chose my neighbor’s house!

I do a lot of DYI.  I recently replaced the Oxygen Sensors, Fuel Rail, and Fuel Injectors on my Jeep.  I noticed some vacuum hoses were cracked so I replaced them and for extra measure, zip tied the ends for tightness.

On the other hand, my woodworking skills are much less assertive.  Power Tools are something I have a healthy respect or fear for.  I haven't decided which.




At a carpentry shop , one of the carpenters is operating a table saw.

He is watching the cut of the blade very closely, so much so that he did not notice the resinous knot in the wood, which when it hit the blade the wood kicked back into his chest and caused him to slam forward and sliced his ear. Clean off !!

He immediately shut down the saw and starts screaming and panicking ….. the foreman runs in , “ What’s going on?? OMG ! Whats all this blood ? ! “. The carpenter tells him : “ I CUT MY EAR OFF !!”

“ OMG ! Let’s help you find it ! “

Everyone pitches in , rummaging through all the piles of sawdust on the shop floor , until the Foreman finds an ear and shakes the sawdust off … and he shows it to the carpenter : “ Is this your ear? ! “

The carpenter examines it closely and says :

“ No, … mine had a pencil behind it “

My Jeep Got Ducked. So I Cycled A Marathon.

As an endurance athlete, you have time to think.  It really is logistics, whether you are going for a marathon, a couple hour walk, or skating that sixth lap around the big park.  You have to plan for the time, and you have to set your mind to achieve that goal.

When I was in Philadelphia, that big park was a long run from Independence Mall in Center City to Valley Forge.  I got into audio books and long DJ music sets and that would keep me going.

Here in South Florida, I am fortunate to have access to a data plan that is unlimited so I can fill my head with any media I can find.  I found a "Classic Dance" station in Puerto Rico that plays music in English, mostly.  Which is fine because my Spanish is merely "Intermediate".  B2 perhaps.  Puedo entenderte si hablaste lentemente. ¿Si?

I was chugging around the big park, a 4.6 mile loop around the Pompano Air Park watching them cart the Goodyear Blimp out of the hangar and have it just sit in the sun to acclimate. 

Lap 1 was easy.

Lap 2 was easy.

Lap 3 I was slowing noticeably and needed a water stop.  Music had stopped playing for some weird reason so at a half-marathon, I thought it was a good time for a rest.

The Jeep was under a tree, and I knew I had water on the bike with me.  But that snack I hid under the front seat was calling my name and I know I had peaked.  I was hitting the wall and "Mr Announcer" on Runkeeper had said that I was over an hour and at 13 plus miles.

I rolled close to the car and spotted a blue dot.

That blue dot grew to become a little plastic duck.

Finally! I had gotten Ducked! 

I have been driving Jeep Wranglers since 1996 and I had a CJ 7 back in the mid 1980s.  

This Duck Thing is new.  I remember that it was something that came out of Canada as a "Fun thing to do" for other Jeepers.  Of course, it's Wholesome, and it is Nice.  Of course, it comes from Canada. 

I guess I qualify as a Jeeper, having had three of the inefficient things.  They have the aerodynamics of a cow.  Moo-ve out of my way, I can push you if you need help keeping up with traffic.

I roll up on the bike and immediately get a big smile on my face.  Looking at the little blue artifact, I am jumping up and down in the parking lot under the tree.  All 6'4" and 194 pounds of me dressed in a uniform of colorful and sweaty "technical fabrics" cheering like a kid. 

Yep, it's fun!  Having gotten my first ducking.

I guess it is my time.  I have had this car since 2002 and Jeep Wrangler TJs are getting thin on the ground.  By that measure, it's a special car now, a standout, and a survivor.

The ducking says, I noticed you and appreciate your Jeep. 

Yes, It's a Jeep Thing and you wouldn't understand.  Other (ahem) "lesser" types of vehicles have their own fan club and their own ways of honoring them.

I put the little blue critter on my dashboard where it is now, and there it will stay.

I finished my snack, and my water stop.  It was time to get going again. 

In fact, I was so energized by that encounter that I did my first marathon since the accident and the repair of my shoulder.

But the duck, the marathon, and my beta endorphins all made for a truly fun day.

If we got rid of all of the Margarine, the world would be a butter place.

Just saying here, but from a nutritional standpoint, you are better off with butter than Marge.  Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil is not good for the heart.

I'll get off my stage, I'm getting a nosebleed from being up so high up...




A man died and went to Heaven...

St Peter says to him,

“Before you meet with God, I should tell you ,we’ve looked over your life, and to be honest you really didn’t do anything particularly good or bad. We’re not really sure what to do with you. Can you tell us anything you did that can help us make a decision?”

The newly arrived soul thought for a moment and replied,

“Yeah, once whilst out driving I came upon a little old lady being harassed by a group of thugs. I pulled over, went up to the leader of the thugs. He was a big, muscular guy with a ring pierced through his lip. Well, I tore the ring out of his lip, and told him he and his gang had better stop bothering this lady or they would have to deal with me!”

“Wow that’s impressive, “When did this happen?”, asks St Peter.

“About three minutes ago,” came the reply.

I was at a really emotional wedding this past weekend. Even the wedding cake was in Tiers!

In the great traditions of ... overkill, I leave this one sitting on the Savanna of the South African Bush.



In the great days of the British Empire, a new commanding officer was sent to a South African bush outpost to relieve the retiring colonel.

After welcoming his replacement and showing the usual courtesies (gin and tonic, cucumber sandwiches, etc.) which protocol decrees, the retiring colonel said, "You must meet my Adjutant, Captain Smithers, he's my right-hand man and is really the strength of this office. His talent is simply boundless.” 

Smithers was summoned and introduced to the new CO, who was surprised to meet a hunchback, one eyed, toothless, hairless, scabbed and pockmarked specimen of humanity, a particularly unattractive man less than three feet tall.

"Smithers, old man, tell your new CO about yourself."
"Well, sir, I played cricket for England, graduated with honours from Sandhurst, won the Military Cross and Bar after three expeditions behind enemy lines.
I've represented Great Britain in equestrian events and won a Silver Medal in the middleweight boxing division of the Olympics.
I served with the Bengal Lancers in the siege of Cawnpore as First Secretary to Colonel Smythe - Carruthers Brigade Commander. I have researched the history of . . .”

At that point, the colonel interrupted.
"Yes, yes, never mind all that, Smithers, he can find all that in your file. Tell him about the day you told the Witch Doctor to sod off."

Cycling Hack - Cut The Sidewalls Off For Use As A Liner For The Tire

What you are looking at bears some explanation.

The short answer is when you ride so much that your tires are showing the belts through, you can give it a second life.

I've been "Make Do And Mend" for so long that it is second nature to me.  When I wear something out and throw it out, it is because I can't see a second or third use for it.  So the end result is that I repurpose many things in creative ways.

In this case, it's a liner for the tires next time the tube needs a servicing.

Why would I want a liner?

Simple.  I ride on streets and trails in a city.  Pompano Beach and Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  There is a lot of trash on the trails.  Seed husks, broken glass, wires, and coral stones were all on the trail that I rode on yesterday.  That is only what I remember.

Tires on a bike have lasted me about 2500 miles.  The front wheel lasts much longer, and that picture is of my rear wheel.  I just installed a new tire, and it is already lined with a tire tread from an earlier tire.

Since my endurance workouts are fairly long, I do tend to run through a tire in about 100 or so workouts.  I have caught quite a few flats in my time and the tubes are patched four or five places.  Tires generally do not need to be patched.

With a liner, I haven't had a flat in about 1000 miles.  Without a liner, it's about every other week.

You choose.

You can buy a liner.  They aren't any better than this except they tend to be lighter than the third of a bike tire I am stuffing into my replacement.

This is a hack.   It worked very well for me for a couple years. 

A book fell on my head. I only have my shelf to blame.

 If you think these titles are groaners, you should hear what people tell me in private.  I do try for G or PG rated things ya know!





 A group of cowboys are sitting around a card table arguing about who has the fastest draw...

Finally, one rough looking cowboy slams his drink down and hollers "ain't no man faster than me. They call me Grim cause I take more lives than the reaper!".

A voice from across the saloon answers back, "well, I been both sides of the Mississippi, and every other direction on the map. Ain't met a faster man than me. They call me Sixes, cause I can draw and fire off six rounds before most men can even get the gun outta their holster!".

After some hootin' and hollerin', and eggin' on by the patrons, the two decide to go outside and see who's the fastest draw.

They go out into the dusty street, now lined on both sides by the saloon patrons. They stand back to back, each take 30 paces, and turn...

In a flash, before Grim even knows what's happened, Sixes draws his gun and unloads all six rounds. Grim is stunned, his hand still resting on his holstered gun, but he's not been hit. He turns his head to the commotion on the side of the street as six men lay dead on the ground. He turns his head back to Sixes, who smirks.

"I said I was the fastest. I never said nothin' about accuracy".

For fast-acting relief, try slowing down.

You have to love this kind of subtle humor.  Being from the Philly area, I used to hear this sort of story all the time.  On the other hand, I was attracted to it because it was set on a cruise ship and I know someone in the industry, so who am I to judge?



 
A cruise ship is passing by an island in the middle of the Pacific, when a crewmember suddenly spots a man dressed in rags on the shore, frantically waving at them.

They send an emergency raft to the island, and bring him aboard. He tells them that he'd been stranded on the island for the past five years. After some rest and a medical check-up, he's willing to take them to the island.

When they get there, they see four large huts.

"This one," he says, "is my bedroom. After a long day's work, I can stay here for a while and rest."

"This one is my kitchen. I prepare my food here after scavenging around the island, and then I eat it here."

"And finally," he says, pointing to the third hut, "this is my synagogue. This is where I went three times a day to pray."

"And what's this fourth hut?" they all ask him.

Shaking his head, he says, "Oy! That's the other synagogue. I wouldn't go there if you paid me!"

Sorrel in the Hibiscus, A Conversation over Coffee

The Pots?  No I don't tend to weed them unless it gets out of control.  And this one in particular has history.

You see, this flower was too pretty to remove.

Come on in we'll have some coffee and talk while I'm brewing.  I have some fine Guatemalan Huehuetenango Finca Hermosa that I roasted "light" just last week.

The thing is that plant and I have a history.  It was the first one I bought when we moved down here.  It was a hand tall cutting in a small pot that I got from a vendor at the Swap Shop back in 2006.  Bright canary yellow flowers. 

The pot is where it is so I can see it.  Look out my kitchen window, yes this one.  You can see the Hibiscus in the pot right from here, between my dishes drying on the rack.

No, boy, not you, here have a cookie.   Silly Rack, always watching me.

Why do I roast my own coffee?  You will see when the brew is done, trust me on this it is orders of magnitude better than anything you can get out at a shop or the market.

Anyway, as I was saying.  The plant has been with me since 2006 and went right into that pot when we got them.  I can have my coffee over the sink and look out at it and into the pool.

I don't tend to use that pool either but it is nice to look at. That view is my lock screen on the phone.

Hang on, let me get the water out of the boiler.  21 g of coffee espresso grind, three sweet and low, 10 g of coffee powder, 430 g of boiling water. 

So I do watch the plants that grow in the pot.  I have a Mango tree from a very specific hybrid that I keep very clean, but not the hibiscus.  If you want a Mango baby tree, I can let you have one, I have two extras and the fruit is like mango ice cream.

Those weeds were getting on my nerves so one afternoon I walked outside and took a picture.  Let me show you.  The wee little flowers are beautiful but so understated in the human scale.   When you get right on top of them they are stunners. 

As I zoom in you see what I mean.

Hang on, the coffee needs 3 ice cubes for hot, 4 for warm to drink.

So no, not that pot.  The flowers are Sorrel and are welcome right there.  They actually help to fertilize the soil and fix nitrogen from the air.

Yeah I'll keep that science content down but you see the thing.

I have a whole mythology as to why I don't want to bother that one pot.

Besides, the others all have weird seeds I drop in them to keep things going.  Milkweed, Zinnia, Basil, Green Onion.   If I need something for the sauces or to feed butterflies, it is all there.

I guess there's a plan.

Here, have the coffee.   Just the way I have it every time.  Yes, it is excellent, probably best coffee on the island.  Sure... here, have some beans. 

You do have a grinder don't you?

Ok, good visiting with you, It's a great day for a workout, I'm going to head to the park in a bit and burn 1400 calories or so.  Want to join me?

I said “THE FLOOR IS JAVA” when I dropped my coffee and I got a high five from 5 other Dads!

 Every time I mention Dad Joke, I get flooded by them.

Good.







 Very Good Son

One Sunday, when counting the money in the weekly offering, the Pastor of a small church found a pink envelope containing $1,000.

It happened again the next week!

The following Sunday, he watched as the offering was collected and saw an elderly woman put the distinctive pink envelope on the plate. This went on for weeks until the pastor, overcome by curiosity, approached her.

“Ma’am, I couldn’t help but notice that you put $1,000 a week in the collection plate,” he stated.

“Why yes,” she replied, “every week my son sends me money and I give some of it to the church.”

The pastor replied, “That’s wonderful. But $1,000 is a lot, are you sure you can afford this.. How much does he send you”

The elderly woman answered, “$10,000 a week.”

The pastor was amazed. “Your son is very successful; what does he do for a living”

“He is a veterinarian,” she answered.

“That’s an honorable profession, but I had no idea they made that much money,” the pastor said. “Where does he practice?”

The woman answered proudly, “In Nevada. He has two cathouses – one in Las Vegas, and one in Reno.”

Maybe Earth is a penal colony for the rest of the galaxy.

As bizarre as the news has been, it is comforting to have one of these gems.  Always respect your farmers, they grow your food!


Mysterious black sheep

A sociologist, a statistician, a mathematician, a physicist and a farmer are on a train trip. They drive across a landscape, where a single black sheep grazes.

Sociologist: "Interesting, the sheep in this region appear to be black."
Statistician: "We can't say that with such certainty. All we can say for sure is that there's at least one black sheep in this region."
Mathematician: "We can't say that with such certainty, either. All we can say for sure is that there's at least one sheep with at least one black side in this region."
Physicist: "Even that is not certain. All we can say for sure is that there's at least one sheep that from our current perspective appears to be black on at least one side."

The farmer, who has been sleeping until his travelling companion's conversation has waken him up, yawns, takes a closer look and says: "That's a goat..."

Weekends are Amateur Day on Multi Purpose Trails in the Park

I forgot.

It's amateur day on the trails at the park on the weekend.

That athlete's camaraderie fades away when you go on a Saturday or Sunday. 

I avoid going on those days, it's just too stupid for words. 

A marathon is six laps of the park.  So that means in a workout, a proper workout on the bike or inline skates, you will pass by a certain spot six times.

I was happily going around on lap two.  Still early enough to feel decidedly fresh.

Then insanity ensued.

First, a woman appeared on the trail.  Behind a stationary bike.  On an asphalt paved trail where people are doing all sorts of things.  She proceeded to get her brood of three children and three adults onto the trail and set up for some sort of exercise activity.

I think I disabused her of that when I came around that bend.  I reached for the horn.  TEMU has its reputation of selling cheap junk but I have to say in the case of that horn, the 120 db shriek it puts out was pretty accurate.  An added "ON YER LEFT!" moved them off the trail and they weren't there when I came through on Lap 3.

Then within a short distance of each other it was Dog Karen and Low Life Banana Eater.

Dog Karen.  Lady, you are in the US.  Pompano Beach, FL.  You can walk on the trail.  You can even walk your dog on the trail.  But if you are walking against traffic flow and not observing "Keep Right Except To Pass", you're going to get attitude.

Instead, Dog Karen, your miniature schnauzer was stretched over to the left side of the trail and you were on the right side of the trail.  Yes, Dog Karen, you made a mistake.  Yelling at the inline skater in front of my bike was uncalled for, you were wrong. 

And yes, I gave you an earful of abuse when I went through right after the skater.  Go Home, Dog Karen.

Coming around that same corner on lap 4 there was "Low Life Banana Eater".

Yes, there is a world of stupid in the park on a Saturday.  This was just ignorant.

Low Life Banana Eater was heading in the correct direction, although toward the center line of a crowded trail.  And then he stopped.  Child in a stroller, he peeled the banana and, yes, you guessed it, threw the banana peel onto the oncoming trail.

Not being one to hold my contempt for littering especially when the thing nearly went into my front wheel, I shouted "DAMN LOW LIFE" and kept going.

This sort of stupidity happens frequently in the parks around here.  "Rules are for Other People" is a mantra of my own.  I quote it ironically, frequently. 

It doesn't mean that rudeness should be excused without comment.

I don't.

I bet they will never make edible Scrabble. If they do, I’ll eat my words.

 I get bombarded by Dad Jokes all day long.  Online.  At home.  In texts. 

I was peppered by so many Dad Jokes yesterday that while I was mid workout, I pulled off of the trail and checked... and there they were.

So this one here.  Definitely a Dad Joke.  You may as well share my raised eyebrow.



 One day God calls down to Noah and says, "Noah me old mate, I want you to make me a new Ark".

Noah replies, "No probs God, me old Supreme Being, anything you want after all you're the boss...

But God interrupts, "Ah, but there's a catch. This time, I do not want just a couple of decks, I want 20 decks one on top of the other".

"20 DECKS!", screams Noah. "Well, OK Big Man, whatever you say. Should I fill it up with all the animals just like last time?"

"Yep, that's right, well . . sort of right . . this time I want you to fill it up with fish", God answers.

"Fish?" queries Noah.

"Yep, fish . . well, to make it more specific Noah, I want carp wall to wall, floor to ceiling Carp!"

Noah looks to the skies. "OK God my old mucker, let me get this right, You want a New Ark?"

"Check".

"With 20 decks, one on top of the other?"

"Check".

"And you want it full of Carp?".

"Check."

"Why?" asks the perplexed Noah, who was slowly but surely getting to the end of his tether..........

"Dunno", says God, "I just fancied a Multi-Storey Carp Ark."

I had to give up playing the triangle in a Jamaican band. It was the same ting, night after night!

Every so often you come across something that reminds you of how much things have changed.   I go through the day carrying a device that has access to the largest library that the world has ever known, and I use it to listen to classic disco while I exercise.



 Remember calling a number for the time and temperature?

A man and a woman meet in a bar and the man cannot shake the sense that they have met before. She assures him them haven't. They start tracing through their histories and she's right, they went to different schools, churches, and had a different group of friends.

Then it occurs to him. They haven't met, but he knew her voice very well. He worked at the local factory and every day he called the local bank for their time and temperature service so he could blow the lunch whistle precisely at noon.

"I've got it!" he announces. "You work at the bank! You're the time and temperature voice!" She smiles and admits that is her recorded voice. "I've always wondered, how do you know exactly what time it is?"

"Easy," she replies. "Every day at noon, the factory blows its whistle."

Nothing is Truly Not For Dogs When Rack Is Involved

 I get it.

There is a level of intelligence in other species that human kind has not yet decided to be aware of.

How is that for a diplomatic way of phrasing it?

I would say that while there are many ways of defining intelligence, being the tool maker is not the only way one can show it.

Mind you this gets involved in my own leisure and athletic activities.

I share a house with Rack, the McNab SuperDog (TM).  I call him a lot of names but SuperDog seems to fit well as does Dingus and Knucklehead from time to time.

I am sure that he has herding DNA somewhere in him, he is a McNab after all.  It does not show often.  That lack of a prey drive is probably why he found his way to us.  He's a very fearful soul, even now after almost 14 years of life.

However if I am at his level, he is involving himself in whatever it is.

In other words, he wants to know what I am doing.  Rack is always watching.

Generally, I tell him he can't help with maintaining anything because he doesn't have any opposable thumbs and needs to operate hand tools. 

It won't work, he will hang out as long as he feels he has to and he enjoys being talked to.  More so than many people.

I sit on the floor working on maintaining the bike or the skates, as I did this week when the winds were up, and I will feel a wet nose on the elbow.  The coffee table is lower than my knees, and the only truly clear place I can get space to work on a bicycle is on the floor.

Luckily he doesn't have the Labrador Retriever Hunger Gene.  That is where that breed will eat anything and everything it can get its paws on.  Keep your food under lock and key.

Rack will, though, have moments of understanding that I am quite surprised at. 

The issue of food has been mostly solved with the phrase of "Not For Dogs".  He understands that he is not getting any of what I am eating, and will even respect that dinner plate of high reward food sitting on the below knee level coffee table as I go out of sight to get the fork I forgot in the kitchen.

But it doesn't mean he won't stand there and stare.  It is after all, his job to observe and if it hits the floor, it's gone.

Just no onions.  That would truly be Not For Dogs, which was what I had in my hand, a bag of French Onion flavored chips.

"Sorry, boy, not for dogs!"

It doesn't mean he won't lick his chops until it's gone.

I made up a joke about pizza and a broken pencil. Unfortunately it's cheesy and pointless.

Sitting here in the early morning light listening to a discussion about Measles in Canada on CBC.  They're so polite, they should say just get the damn vaccine, you won't have Measles.



 A dead duck

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary surgeon.

As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest.
After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has passed away."
The distressed woman wailed, "Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead," replied the vet..
"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 black Labrador Retriever. 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."

The vet 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 $20, but with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $150."

Was sorry to hear about a French cheese factory that burnt down. All that was left was de brie.

It's Saturday.  Last night we made Pizza Sauce from the recipe on this link.  I have the cheese thawed, and will be putting some air fried Mushrooms on top.  Oh and the Pepperoni.  I need Pepperoni.



Japanese food

An American businessman travels to Japan for work, but there’s just one problem—he hates Japanese food. Desperate for something familiar, he asks the hotel concierge if there’s anywhere nearby that serves American food.

The concierge smiles and says, “You’re in luck! A brand-new pizza place just opened, and they deliver.”

Relieved, the businessman gets the phone number, heads to his room, and orders a pizza.

Thirty minutes later, the delivery guy arrives with his order. The businessman eagerly grabs the pizza, opens the box, and—out of nowhere—starts sneezing uncontrollably.

Eyes watering, he turns to the delivery guy and demands, “What the heck did you put on this pizza?!”

The delivery man bows deeply and replies,

“We put exactly what you ordered, sir… pepper only.”

Dog Food Recipe For Older Dogs With Lower Protein

In Florida, I understand the laws on who is a "Nutritionist" is "flexible".  If you say you are, you are.

For this purpose, I am.  At least as a blog writer.

I have been learning and honing my knowledge of proper "Sports Nutrition" since the Disco Era.  Seeing that I am listening to some Classic Disco right now, that timing becomes hazy.

Never mind that.  In this case, I am trying to keep my nearly 14 Year Old Dog, Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) alive another year or three.  His coat is shiny, his energy is excellent, his eyesight is clear.  His hearing is somewhat hit or miss.  It's also clear that my own Sports Nutrition knowledge is helping.

He also is a Cancer Survivor and has typical old dog kidney issues.

We have been making his food, from scratch, since well before Covid.  We got him because there was a recall on some dog food that killed my prior dog, Lettie.  I feed him nothing from a can, nothing from a bag, and nothing I could not eat myself.

His prior recipe is here on the blog.  That recipe is excellent for adult and younger dogs.

What I am doing in this recipe is reducing the protein content while keeping the calorie count approximately equal.  In order to achieve this recipe, I have been using spreadsheets, nutrition labels, and the USDA food ingredient website information to calculate what I am doing to the recipe.

Original Recipe is 25% of calories from Protein.
Total Protein is about 20.2% with Macaroni, 18.9% with Rice Noodles.

Calories for the recipe is about 3300 calories total.
I get 11 servings, about 3 days of food from all of this. 

It's involved, and should you take this on, feel free to comment here or find me on FB Ramblingmoose or Blue Sky @ramblingmoose. 

The theory goes that 80% lean Burger Meat is about 5g of protein per ounce cooked.  Reducing that to 3.5g per ounce pre-cooked by substituting in "typical" Elbow Macaroni or to 2g of protein per ounce by using Rice Noodles will help.

The reason for this reduction is that he's older.  The Veterinarian recommended a low protein diet because, in an older dog, you have problems processing protein. What happens is that for Kidney Health, and Longevity, they recommend a reduced protein diet. 

Original recipe is here, and it has drifted slightly.  All ingredients are as low salt as possible, no added sugar.  He can't have chicken or other poultry due to a grain allergy. 

The low fat issue is due to pancreatitis that we've had come and go over the years - low fat helps him greatly.  Hence the boiled and strained beef.


Recipe:


16 ounces boiled and strained 81% lean beef.
3 ounces green peas.
5 ounces shredded carrots.
15 ounces Butternut Squash.
15 ounces Kidney Beans.
40 ounces white rice, boiled and cooked.
8 ounces Elbow Macaroni, boiled and cooked.

This makes, for him, 85 ounces of food once cooked.

Meaning, 1 serving is 7.5 ounces.  Give or take. 

The protein count from USDA.GOV is as follows:

Ground Beef:  17.5g for 100g.  1100g for recipe.
Frozen Green Peas:  4g for 85g.  (From package)
Shredded Carrots:  3.5 for 100g.
Butternut Squash: 3g for can (from can)
White rice: 77g for 1100g.
Kidney Beans: 7.8g for 100g, 33g (for can)

Elbow Macaroni is from the package: 7g for 2 ounces/56g
For Rice Noodles, 9g protein per 4 oz/113g.

My math is not perfect.  Your mileage will vary with ingredients and your skill.

Standard Internet Warranty Applies - You get what you pay for, and while I am placing this here, I am doing this to help.  If you have any doubts consult your Veterinarian or Nutritionist.  I'm not an expert I but I can play one on TV.

Paper towels are just napkins on the cob.

So did you set your clocks yet?  I remember Mom's Lincoln would just stay on either DST or Standard Time until I could get the book out and set it.  Crazy ugly way to set the clock on that darn thing.

As for this story?  The little lady seems quite nice, don't you think?


 On the beach

A widowed Jewish lady, still in good shape, was sunbathing on a totally deserted beach at Ft. Myers.
She looked up and noticed that a man her age, also in good shape, had walked up, placed his blanket on the sand near hers and began reading a book.
 

Smiling, she attempted to strike up a conversation with him. "How are you today?"
"Fine, thank you," he responded, and turned back to his book.
 

"I love the beach. Do you come here often?" she asked.
"First time since my wife passed away 2 years ago," he replied and turned back to his book.
 

"I'm sorry to hear that. My husband passed away three years ago and it is very lonely," she countered. "Do you live around here?"
She asked. Yes, I live over in Cape Coral", he answered, and again he resumed reading. 

Trying to find a topic of common interest, she persisted, "Do you like pussy cats?"
With that, the man dropped his book, came over to her blanket, tore off her swimsuit and gave her the most passionate lovemaking of her life. When the cloud of sand began to settle, she gasped and asked the man, "How did you know that was what I wanted?"

The man replied, "How did you know my name is Katz?

What works faster than a Calculator? A Calcu-now!

It's a two-fer today.  The second one is a retelling of the story from last Sunday, but the first is all about being faithful to your vows.  Ok, so since it is March, and we've all done the New Years Resolution and most of them are forgotten, this one will ring true.



 Airline flight.

A priest and a rabbi were sitting next to each other on an airline flight.

After a while, the priest turned to the rabbi and asked, "Is it still a requirement of your faith that you not eat pork?'

The rabbi responded, "Yes, that is still one of our laws."

The priest then asked, "Have you ever eaten pork?"

To which the rabbi replied, "Yes, on one occasion I did succumb to temptation and tasted a ham sandwich."

The priest nodded in understanding and went on with his reading..

A while later, the rabbi spoke up and asked the priest, "Father, is it still a requirement of your church that you remain celibate?"

The priest replied, "Yes, that is still very much a part of our faith."

The rabbi then asked him, "Father, have you ever fallen to the temptations of the flesh?"

The priest replied, "Yes, rabbi, on one occasion I was weak and broke my faith."

The rabbi nodded understandingly and remained silent, thinking, for about five minutes.

Finally, the rabbi said, "Beats the heck out of a ham sandwich, doesn't it?



...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---...

 A man goes to the pet store and there is, of course, the mysteriously cheap parrot.

When he asks about it, they tell him that it was in an abusive home and although the parrot is fine, it picked up terrible language and needs an understanding home.

The guy replies, "I live alone and I'm not offended by anything. I would love to help this bird out." So he buys the parrot and takes it home.

And true to the pet shops word, the parrot is friendly and happy to be in a nice home, but it talks constantly and everything it says is a put down or insult. The man can't even walk across the room without being told in a detail that he is a failure as a human being.

But he puts up with it, because obviously this parrot doesn't understand and he tries to teach it to be nicer. Nothing really works and the little bit of irritation at the constant insults grows and grows.

Finally, one day after the parrot wakes him up in the middle of the night screaming about he's a worthless disappointment, the man snaps. He runs over, grabs the bird by the neck, then turns and shoves it into the freezer just to shut it up. Inside the freezer, the parrot keeps screaming insults and banging on the door. Then, after a few minutes the parrot goes quiet.

Suddenly, the man realizes what he's done and is overcome with remorse. He rushes over to the freezer and yanks open the door.

The parrot walks out and says, "I would like to apologize, I now realize that my previous behavior may have offended you and that was never my intention. Going forward, I hope that we can have a much more civil relationship."

The parrot looks back at the freezer and asks, "can you tell me, just what did the chicken do?"

Workouts Can Have Limits Due To Conditions, Time To Respect Your Limits

My feet are up on the coffee table.

I have taken a pause, I'm expecting this one to be a short one.

See the thing is I have a rule.  Been working out in, lets call it broadly, motion sports for decades.

I am an endurance athlete.  I used to run 10 Km three times a week at Valley Forge National Park.  There's a hill there that is about 30 degree incline and I just charged up that.

Transitioned to Inline Skating, then to Cycling, which I am currently doing.  Before my most recent benching I was up to a marathon any time I got on.  4 times a week was not unheard of.

My inline skating was the same.  I did 24,500 miles total career.

All that humble bragging is that I know what my limits are.  Don't workout outdoors when you are pushing your body through three dimensions when the conditions aren't good.  A workout takes 3 to 3 plus hours.

So why am I bothered so much by it?  Don't know, but the bogey has been met.

I checked the local forecast for the park I workout at and the base winds were 20 mph, gusts at 26, rain is expected.  The winds the last two days have been intense enough to knock me off my balance into a fence once.  The last dog walk, I got hit by rain twice.  Icky Weather.  (TM)

Having been picked up and thrown by similar winds once before I am hesitant.

No seriously, I'm a 195 pound guy, not small.  I'm a big guy, a fit 6'4" and 195#.  193cm, 88kg.  I was literally launched by a gust into a Mangrove Swamp in Key West by a very similar condition.  Gusts will do nasty things to you and the dislocated finger I had still feels different than the one that wasn't.

Too many injuries over the years in sports mean you have hard limits.

I was looking at the clock and saying to myself that I could squeeze in a workout and saw those wind numbers.  Gusts off the ocean will blow right through two sides of the park.  What goes up must come down, and the trail is a big square.    Should be fun to "wind surf" going west, but you have to come back into that wind.  More importantly getting hit broad side by a gust means that you could be knocked over.

I have been knocked over far too many times.  Three titanium bars and at least 17 screws in my clavicles is enough.

I'll leave the trails until conditions improve.  I am not complaining.  After all the bike can use a tune up, and I know Rack likes that.  I will sit on the floor and he plops next to me as I wrench the contraption that has its own parking space in the dining room.

Two psychics meet in the street. One says to the other, "You're great, how am I?"

Having lived with Parrots for many years, I can say they are intelligent, playful, and have their own moods.

But this?




  Magician's Parrot

A magician on a cruise ship did his act with a talking parrot who was very intelligent.

While the magician did his act the parrot would constantly shout out and spoil the trick, like “It’s under his hat“, or "It’s down his arm”.

As the audience was laughing, the magician didn’t mind.

One night all the fire alarms went off and everyone was ordered to get in the lifeboats. The magician grabbed the parrot, covered it up and jumped into one of the last lifeboats.

It floated away from the ship and the next morning he uncovered the parrot who never said a word.

The boat floated around for days before finally the parrot spoke, “O.K. I give up what have you done with the ship?“.

What do you call a psychic on antidepressants? A happy medium

I have heard this one a number of times and it never ceases to make me smile.  Time for another good retelling.

 

Good Night Kiss to Girl Friend

One night a guy took his girlfriend home.
As they were about to bid each other goodnight at the front door, the guy started feeling a little in the mood.

With an air of confidence, he leaned with his hand against the wall and smiling, he said to her "Honey, would you give me a kiss?"
Horrified, she replied, "Are you mad? My parents will see us!"

"Oh come on! Who's gonna see us at this hour?" He asked grinning at her.
"No, please. Can you imagine if we get caught?"

"Oh come on! There's nobody around, they're all sleeping!"..
"No way. It's just too risky!"

"Oh please, please, I love you so much?!?" .
"No, no, and no. I love you too, but I just can't!"

"Oh yes you can. Please?"...
"No, no. I just can't"

"I'm begging you..."

Out of the blue, the light on the stairs went on, and the girl's older sister showed up in her pajamas, hair disheveled, and in a sleepy voice she said, "Dad says to go ahead and give him a kiss, or I can do it. Or if need be, mom says she can come down herself and do it, but for God's sake and all of ours.. .. TELL HIM TO TAKE HIS HAND OFF THE CALLING BELL!

Guerilla Art or Putting Your Best Foot Forward? Did One Of You Kiddies Lose A Shoe?

This all happened, like everything does around here for me, on a dog walk.

Mind you, when you walk between 11,000 and 20,000 steps a day, you tend to see everything.  I have a bit of a reputation here in town as being That Guy Walking Around.

I'm also lately doing circuits or laps up and down the main drag, Wilton Drive, on a bike. 

2.4 miles each lap, 6 laps, 18.17 miles today.

It can get repetitive.  I keep my eyes open for entertainment and I do see it.

We were walking on a street near the house.  On the ground there was a shoe.  A wee little kid's slip on. 

There are not too many children here in town, so picking up the shoe was on order.  It ended up on the fence hoping that the original owner would find it.

I mean... what can you do with a shoe?

It sat there overnight. 

I did notice that the next morning, it had gotten knocked into the yard with the rather boisterous Labradoodles.  They're both young, under 3 years old.  The shoe was quite out of reach and I could not rescue it.  The shoe being on the wrong side of the fence and closed gate, there it would stay.

Except.  The next walk, I do four per day, it had made it from the grass to the fence post.  The owner of the property placed it on a fence post hoping the original owner would find it on their pass through and put it on their kid's foot.

Except.  Yes, there is a theme here.

It was on the side of the sidewalk.  A Bit Redundant, but it did not belong there.

My own walking partner, Kevin, has a bit of a joker in him.  He laughed and had a big smile on his face.

"Ok!  What's going on?" I asked.
"Just wait!" He responded.

There are quite a few art installations here in town.  Next to the Labradoodles is a property with two brass statues of kids playing.  The one near has a child laying under the palm tree reading, a second child over him climbing a ladder to nowhere.

Kevin put the shoe on the exposed foot.

Laughing.

I thought it was amusing.  "How did you ... never mind!"

We continued walking and laughing at the scene.

The next day we thought it was over and done but...

Except.  A note appeared.  The donor of the shoe was thanked and was asked where was the other shoe?

I had a great laugh at that.  I knew how it all got there.  Since the house was quiet, we went on our way.

Except.  A Block away we ran into the owners of the house on the way back with Rack to the house.

It was time to come clean and let the owners in on the whole story.  They thought it great fun and thanked us for the mystery and clearing up the question.

We still don't know who owned the second shoe or the first one and it has not disappeared from the statue.

I guess we'll see once we walk past.   For now, Rack knows not to water the statue and we'll all keep an eye for future developments!

I made a belt out of watches once. It was a waist of time

 One of those little gems that teaches us about perspective.  Yeah, that's what I am seeing, nothing evil here, is there?



Little Johnny Likes His Teacher

In kindergarten class one day Little Johnny's teacher is wanting to test her class on their ability to think and reason. She decides to describe an object on her desk and have the children tell her what it is.

The teacher starts with the first item as being a spherical shape that is orange and has some dark coloration. Little Johnny is excited to provide the answer, busting at the seams, with his hand in the air to be called upon. The teacher is fully aware of Johnny's somewhat crude behavior and is reluctant to call on him for the answer. The teacher calls on little Billy for the answer. Little Billy says "teacher it is a basketball" to which the teacher replied "oh Billy, I'm sorry, it is an orange. But that shows what you are thinking, and I like that."

The teacher starts to describe the second item on her desk as being a rectangular shape that is black and has some white on it. Little Johnny's hand immediately shoots into the air. The reluctant teacher calls on little Mary. Mary says "teacher, the item is a domino." The teacher replied "oh Mary, I'm so sorry, the item is a chalkboard eraser. But that shows what you are thinking, and I like that."

Little Johnny's hand is still in the air. The teacher is wondering if maybe he needs to be excused to go to the bathroom or something like that. She calls on him "Johnny what is it." Johnny stands up and puts his hand in his pocket. He says "teacher I have my hand in my pocket and in my hand is something that is round, is hard, and has a head on it, what is it?"

The teacher is flabbergasted knowing of his crude behavior, immediately exclaimed"Johnny, you dirty little boy." To which, Johnny pulls something out of his pocket. Johnny says "Teacher, I have a nickel in my hand. From your reaction I can tell what you are thinking, and I like that."

Today I saw a 2000 year old oil stain. It’s from Ancient Greece.

Ahh spoonerisms.  They can be so fun, can't they?

The first definition of Spoonerism that I had found is:

A transposition of sounds of two or more words, especially a ludicrous one, such as Let me sew you to your sheet for Let me show you to your seat.

See, I can be edumacational too! :)




  Three priests in a train station

There were three priests in a railroad station, all wanting to go home to Pittsburgh.

Behind the ticket counter was a shapely, well- endowed, gorgeous, amazing woman.

The priests were all embarrassed and in new territory, so they drew straws to determine who would get the tickets.

The first priest approached the window. "Young lady," he began, "I would like three pickets to titsburg,” whereupon he completely lost his composure and fled.

The second priest went to the window and said, “Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburgh and I would like the change in nipples and dimes." Of course he also fled.

Then came the third priest. “Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburgh, and I would like the change in nickels and dimes. And I must say if you insist on dressing like that when you get to the pearly gates, St. Finger's going to shake his peter at you."

Guerilla Art in Wilton Manors. The Story of the Little Ceramic Faces

I am very used to being around Art.  The rule of thumb in Philadelphia is that you had to spend 1% of building cost in public art for a commercial or industrial building.

Or thereabouts.   My memory may have drifted and I left Philly in 2006.

So Philly has some world class art floating around for you to enjoy simply by walking around.  The "LOVE" installation in Love Park in Center City, or that Rocky Statue that was at one point at the Art Museum come to mind.

Little bitty Wilton Manors is doing its best.  We've got the orange slices on Wilton Drive, and there are other installations like the Thunderbunny there as well.  I find it quite enjoyable.

But Guerilla Art?  Here in sleepy little Wilton?  You bet.

I don't mean the graffiti morons with stickers and spray paint.  I walk around the Central Business District four times a day.   Rack the McNab SuperDog(TM) requires the exercise and I get between 10,000 and 19,000 steps a day myself as a result.

I see the art.  Guerilla art.

Guerilla Art is not the Gorilla statue that was here for years.  I rather miss the thing, it was as tall as I am, and I am not a small man.  People used to crawl into its lap and take pictures.

Guerilla Art is unofficial art.  Think of "Yarn Bombing" where some dear person knitted a sweater.  For a mail box.  It's random and makes you pause and think.

So what is happening here?  Little Ceramic Faces.  Lately they are all over the place in a very specific neighborhood.  South side of Wilton Drive, and in the immediate blocks south of the Drive.  The faces are well done, and brightly colored.  Ceramic faces are left in places that are designed to be spotted.  For a while it was the painted stones that were done in many places where you find a palm sized stone painted with maybe a Daisy or other flower.

It later shifted to these faces. 

Some have magnets on the back, others are simply the face.  They are about as large as my thumbnail and I don't have tiny doll hands.

I will say that if I spot one with a magnet and it is in a public place I place it as high up on the pole where it is.  It makes it more discreet and hopefully it will remain there longer.

This isn't the graffiti stickers.  If you walk Wilton Drive, you will notice the south side of the drive has markedly fewer stickers.  (Raises hand) That is because I use my scraper knife to remove them when they are not "official" stickers like from the city/state. 

I probably should shift to the other side of the drive, there are an obscene amount of these stickers everywhere.

On the other hand, the little faces are easy to move around and I can only think of one that is glued to a spot.  The person chose this spot because it was an orange face on an orange post.

Discrete, not loud.  Smiling into the sunrise every morning, on guard at the corner.

I have asked Everyone's Big Sister here if she saw them and she did not even know of them.  I don't believe they are on Constance's side of the drive.

So whoever you are, thank you.  You have given me a smile.  Others will as well, because I am not the only person who is moving them around. 

In fact, someone came onto the property and stuck one to the front bumper of my Jeep.  I was amused when I spotted it.

I'll put it in a spot that has Pride Of Place in the cabin of the Jeep.  Since nobody has ever left me a duck, that is.

Thank you!

Expert, n.: Someone who comes from out of town and shows slides.

 Ya know... I sat through way too many of those meetings.  I said it then and I will say it now, "This should have been handled with an email". 


As for this wee little gem... I know I would probably do exactly the same thing!



 The Watergate Hotel

A couple stayed on their honeymoon at the Watergate Hotel in Washington. The bride was worried that the hotel might still be bugged, so of course her new husband started searching the room.

Not to upset his new wife, the man did a thorough job of it. He moved every bit of furniture and checked it, even disassembling and reassembling the TV to check for odd components. Finally, under the rug, he found an odd, thick metal disc screwed into the floor, set into a hollow in the floor. He immediately unscrewed it and out the window it went. His wife, satisfied, hugged him and they had a lovely first night of being wedded.

The morning brought some confusion, though. When they went to check out, the manager was there, asking them many, many questions about their stay and wringing his hands almost pathologically. "How was your stay? Was anything wrong with your stay? Do you have any complaints about the room? Was the breakfast to your liking? How was your service?" The list of questions was mind boggling.

Finally, the husband was beginning to get a little uncomfortable. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why so many questions?"

"Well, sir...." the manager hesitated. "The room below yours complained their chandelier fell on them!"

I'm willing to bet someone's mom used me as a bad example when I was younger!

Truthfully in this era of nickle and diming air passengers to death, this reminds me of taking a flight.  If I have to go anywhere, I'll take the Jeep.



  A blonde woman, tired of the stereotypes about blondes, decides one day to prove her intelligence to her husband...


Tired of the constant blonde jokes and the stereotype that blondes are not smart, a blonde woman decides to prove her intelligence to her husband.

While he is at work, she takes it upon herself to paint a couple of rooms in their house.

The next day, as soon as her husband leaves, she dives into the project. When he returns home at 5:30, he immediately notices the strong smell of paint.

Concerned, he walks into the living room and finds his wife lying on the floor, drenched in sweat. To his surprise, she’s wearing both a ski jacket and a fur coat.

Worried, he asks if she’s okay. She assures him she is fine.

Curious, he inquires about her outfit. She explains that she wanted to prove that blondes can be smart by painting the house. When he asks why she's wearing both coats, she confidently explains, "I read the instructions on the paint can, and it said, 'For best results, put on two coats.'"

Is it Really 10000 Steps A Day Or Can I Change That Number?

 

I was discharged yesterday. 

Drove all the way up to Boca Raton, and had a chat with the Orthopedic Surgeon who pasted my shoulder together.  I'm 99.5% human with 1/2 percent titanium thrown in.

Math should just about be right.

All those miles on the bike, all those miles on the skates have their drawbacks.

I'm also on a scheme with the health insurance company where if I do 10000 steps a day, I get a couple pennies.  Those pennies add up.  I'm just about ready to pass $1000 since last fall. 

Will I stop?  Nope, but I can relax with my record keeping.

See the thing is that I rather like being active.  I strongly think that this "10K per Day" mantra that trainers give you is a benchmark.  And just like every other benchmark you have been forced to follow, it's arbitrary.

I can say having a low resting heart rate is very nice.

For some it is unattainable.  Life gets in the way.  You can't do the steps because of reasons.  Bad knees, and trust me I know about those, can slow you down.  Work hours.  Weather.

But it is a goal, not a requirement. 

I truly believe that like all arbitrary goals, it should be more of a rolling average.  70000 steps over the last 7 days is more likely but anyone who is not as rigid as I am with math and record keeping will roll their eyes at that comment.

The Doctor and I had a conversation.  "Lets see your range of motion, Lift your arms". 

I had him step aside and I picked the rolling chair off the ground and held it over my head.

Doctor said "Holy crap you're good, you're done".

We got into a discussion about just how active I was.  I pulled out the phone and the step count and said "It's 9am, Most days I am around 7000 steps by now, yesterday was a total of 16000 steps.

I was wrong, it was 18000 by bedtime but that's irrelevant.  I hit the goal.

Thing is though, that's me.  It's not enough to do that kind of activity to maintain the fitness level I require to do two sports.  I am feeling the difference between where I feel I should be in both of my sports' performance and where I am now due to being Benched since October.

And the "Get out of Jail Card" to have that second cupcake is real nice.

"How do you do all that?"
"Left foot, Right foot, you eventually get somewhere."

I ended the conversation with "Training sessions are available by appointment" with a smile.

As a trainer, I could tell he'd benefit from "a little more cardio".

The thing is that if you just jump into something you will get frustrated and quit.  It took you "Your Age" number of years to get where you are, you won't turn the battleship around over night.  Do what you can and live knowing that tomorrow you will do just a little bit more. 

Compound Interest is a wonderful thing in financing, and it works just as well in Fitness.  I have a set course that I walk.  At the end I tack on just a little bit more by walking behind an "Executive Center".  It adds about 180 steps.  I do that every walk and I do four walks a day.  There, that's 720 steps a day.

Having a dog helps.  Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) requires long walks every day.  Any herding breed will benefit from that sort of activity.  As smart as he is, he has learned my routes and tells me that he's done by turning toward the house.

Trust in Dog.  They won't steer you wrong.

Be patient.  But get out of the chair, now, and get started.

That's what I am about to do.  It's a beautiful day and I am going to do my hour on the bike outside.  I'm planning on a half marathon.  It's time to graduate to the big park next week, and if I am lucky I will see the Goodyear Blimp.

People say a dog is like one of the family but I disagree, I like the dog.

 Hmm.... Interesting one liner, I'd say.





Stand up to be honored!


The preacher fashioned his sermon around the evils of sex, and stated that providential wrath was positioned to destroy anyone who had sex outside of marriage.

So, on this day, he leveled a challenge to his congregation- “I wish to recognize those women of this congregation who have preserved their chastity in line with the words of our loving savior.

So, I ask all of the women here today who are virgins to stand up and be honored.”

An awkward silence stilled the church. After a few more moments, a young lady stood up in the back carrying a small baby.

“You,” barked the preacher, “aren’t you an unwed mother?”

“Yes, preacher,” she said, “but did you expect my 6-month old daughter to stand up all by herself?”



And since that may not please everyone, here's a short for you.


I've just been to the market to do some shopping, when i got to the checkout i said, "Can i pay by card"...

The woman said, "No problem, what card do you have?"...

I replied, "The six of spades"...

I stayed up all night wondering where the sun had gone. Then it dawned on me.

It is one of those mornings where you feel a little restless and want to get a move on things.  I'm feeling like I am going to lean into the athletics today.  Mile three walked before 9am, then out for an hour on the bike. 

I've never been into team sports, I just can't see the point.  But I do know some of you like baseball, and we all have to learn the rules from time to time.




 Learning Baseball

Conor had just arrived in New York from Ireland and was invited by one of his American cousins to go to his first baseball game.

At Yankee Stadium he watched as a man swung a stick, hit a ball and started toward a white bag down the line.  Everyone stood up and yelled, “Run, run!"

Then a second guy came up to the plate, whacked the ball and started down toward the line.

Everyone stood up again and yelled, “Run, run!

A third batter came up, but this one didn't hit the ball. He didn't even swing. Four times the pitcher pitched. Four times the catcher caught. Conor was completely confused when the batter dropped the stick and started strolling toward the white bag.

“Run, run!" Conor shouted.

"No, he doesn't have to run' his cousin told him. "He's got four balls."

Conor’s eyes widened and he stood up, shouting, “Walk with pride, man!” Walk with pride!"

I Am Making Two Batches of Soap and Sending Them Off To Their Eventual Home

I have an audience.  For Soap.

Actually I got started making the stuff about 5 years ago because I got tired of my skin being dried out.

In South Florida.

I have always been careful at what I use to wash up with.  Someone suggested Dr Bronner's and I tried it.  It's Ok but pricey.

Then I noticed a random youtube video on how to make soap.  It used things I had at the house.  A couple different oils and some lye along with water.  It made soap alright, and a pretty darn good one.

After researching it further, I found many websites with recipes.  There are quite a few soap making sites.  As well as one where you point and click to select your own oils and scents and it would calculate out the recipe for you.  

I kept playing around and settled on a specific recipe.  65% olive oil, 30% coconut oil, 5% shea butter or cocoa.  Either is great, they both work as well.

The soap I made I dropped samples in boxes to be sent off.  Some enjoyed them, some were disturbed by my sending them soaps.

Their loss.  It works great with my skin. 

Mind you, I am making custom soap for a small audience.  I have a recipe that works, and for those who want customization I have been adding in various levels of essential oils and add ins such as Cinnamon or Coffee Grounds for a scrub.

It is kind of fun.  I was that weird kid in High School who "did Chemistry labs at 99.5% accuracy or better".  Hey, the teacher was a stoner and came into class high as a kite and smelling like Pot.  Someone had to take charge, and this was in a Catholic High School!

February is the end of the road for this particular soap making session.  I am waiting on some Cedar Oil for myself and that promises to be a strong scent for the soap.  I want it to smell like a Cedar box from the Jersey shore.  I'm feeling nostalgic and I will have enough to make quite a few batches out of the 8 ounces of oil I find.  Usually it is an ounce of essential oil per batch of 50 ounces of soap but this will probably be a stronger oil than an E-Oil.

That picture is two batches of soap.  About 100 Ounces or 284 Grams by the recipe.  As it cures, it loses weight.

Just make sure it is done in the following order.  Mix oils.  Separately, add lye to water and ice (50/50 mix) in a well ventilated area.  When the Lye is mixed in completely, slowly add it to the oils then stir with a stick blender.  The process is done quickly and cures overnight.  

Two weeks later or more, you have soap.  Hopefully it smells like cedar.

Unlike the essential oil I got from Temu that smelled of flowers.  It "Said" it was cedar... it wasn't.  It smelled like roses and something else undefinable.

Oh well, just make sure your ingredients are pure if you are going down this road.  I do, and the results speak for themselves.

And that liquid soap craze?  You are paying for a LOT of water and a LOT of waste.