Archive for February, 2013

In the “Oh, Give Me A Break” Department

Friday, February 22nd, 2013
Some people make an effort to find new ways to be offended.  A fortune cookie company is removing certain “romantic” messages such as “One who admires you greatly is hidden before your eyes.” Some parents, with too much time on their hands, complained.  So, the company is  replacing those kinds of fortunes with less controversial messages. Here are a few new ones.
“Try our new dish, Chicken Ding. You cook it in the microwave.”
“Enjoy a refreshing glass of Dragon Milk. It’s from short cows.”
“It’s always darkest before the dawn, so if you plan to steal your neighbor’s newspaper, that’s the best time to do it.”
“If at first you don’t succeed, destroy all the evidence that you tried.”
“Hard work never hurt anyone. But why take the chance?”There. Is everybody happy?

Diva Talk — Yes, they actually said it.

Tuesday, February 19th, 2013

Lady Gaga: “I’m the queen of the universe every day.”

Beyonce: “I’m more powerful than my mind can digest and understand.”

Britney Spears: “I get to go to lots of overseas places, like Canada.”

Mariah Carey: “Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can’t help but cry. I mean, I’d love to be skinny like that but not with all those flies and death and stuff.”

Fran Lebowitz: “Food is an important part of a balanced diet.”

Linda Evans: Every minute was more exciting than the next.”

Jessica Simpson: “I’m not anorexic. I’m from Texas. Are there people from Texas that are anorexic? I’ve never heard of one, and that includes me.”

Christina Aguilera: “So, where is the Cannes Film Festival being held this year?”

Brooke Shields: “Smoking kills. If you’re killed, you’ve lost a very important part of your life.”

Paris Hilton: “Wal-Mart. Do they make walls there?”


Monday, February 11th, 2013

Proof that extraterrestrials don’t exist:

They haven’t demanded equal employment and special education opportunities.

They haven’t demanded that “Space Speak” be recognized as an official second language.

They haven’t formed a union.

They haven’t demanded special parking spaces for their UFOs.

They haven’t sued anyone.


Proof that extraterrestrials do exist:

The Politically Correct crowd.

People who talk out loud in movie theatres.

Reality TV shows.


Parents who insist their dumb or lazy children are simply learning disabled.

SUVs and Hummers.


Monday, February 4th, 2013

I worry about things.

I worry that we’ll have a global environmental disaster and only two people will be left to start civilization all over again: Sarah Palin and George W. Bush.

I worry that I’ll find something unidentifiable in my meatloaf and discover that it’s only half of something unidentifiable.

I worry that Judge Crater will show up one day with Amelia Earhart and Jimmy Hoffa, and they’ll ask where everyone has been.

I worry that someone will proclaim that Dolly Parton is the titular leader of country music.

I worry that NYC Mayor Michael Bloomberg has been dead for five years and we’ve been seeing a clever Jim Hensen muppet in his place.

I worry that I’ll get stranded with Pee Wee Herman in an elevator during a power failure.

I worry that I’ll never get stranded with Raquel Welch in an elevator during a power failure.

I worry that people will stop saying, “Have a nice day,” and start saying, “I hope your cat dies.”

I worry that I’ll discover a brand new word that no one else knows, and when I use it in public for the first time all children under nine years old will explode.

I worry that someday I’ll go to the movies and the people behind me won’t be talking out loud. I worry that they’ll be dead. Because I poisoned their popcorn.

I worry that TV news anchormen are not wearing pants behind those desks.

I worry that mood rings will come back in style.

I worry that I’ll doze off on an Amtrak train and wake up in Cleveland on a Tuesday afternoon where the only person who knows me is a strange woman named Thelma who has tattoos and wears white socks rolled down below her ankles and she calls me her Sweet Baboo.

I worry that they’ll run out of cute rugged names for Mafia guys and start calling them, “Bill,” or “Bob,” or “Charlie.”

I worry that someone will press a suit against me, burning me slightly.

I worry that the Marlboro Man will get caught riding sidesaddle.

I worry that I worry too much.

I worry that I’ll run out of things to worry about.

Bits & Pieces

Monday, February 4th, 2013

My wife kept dropping hints for a birthday present. An iPhone would be nice, she hinted. Maybe an iPad or even an iPod Touch.  I just came right out and said it: “How about an iRon? Great for pressing clothes.”

She arched an eyebrow and flared her nostrils, which are always danger signals.

“May I remind you,” she snarled, daggers dancing in her eyes, starlight gleaming on her fangs, “about iWash, iClean, iCook?”

It was ok, I didn’t mind sleeping on the iSofa for a few days.


A couple in their seventies drove from Florida to visit their son in New York City.  On the way, they ran into several massive traffic jams, and it was raining heavily all the way. After about eight hours they decided to find a motel and rest for a few hours.

The desk clerk said, “The charge will be $50 for four hours.” Checking out and feeling rested, they noticed some additional charges, all of which added up to $350.00.

They objected and the manager came out to explain, “The motel offers an Olympic size swimming pool, a first class exercise room, a highly rated restaurant, and a show with the finest entertainers from New York City, Hollywood, and Las Vegas.” But the couple said, “We didn’t use any of those extra services.”

The manager said, “They were all available and you could have used them, so the charges are legitimate.”

The man’s wife wrote out the check. The manager looked at the check and said, “Excuse me, but this is made out for only fifty dollars, not $350.00.”

The woman replied, “I’m charging you $300 for having sex with me.”

The manager said, “That’s absurd, I didn’t.”

She said, “Well, I was here and available and you could have.”


What do you get when you cross PMS with GPS?

A woman in a bad mood who will find you.


I went to the airport the other day. I didn’t have to fly anywhere. I just went for the pat down.


Search and Destroy

Friday, February 1st, 2013

Never underestimate the power of a woman to find something to do when there is nothing to do. My wife, BarbaraJean, aka, she who will be obeyed, had a few days off from her job and could have used the free time to just unwind and relax. From the movie, “Don’t Count On It.”

Her first little project was to check out the refridgerator and toss out a few odds and ends of leftovers. A mere mortal, the average hubby, would never do this. But a woman, the wife kind in particular who’s on a quest, has no fear.

Leftovers are good for you and easy to prepare because they’ve already been prepared. Just heat those suckers up and, if you have enough of them, dinner is served.

She picked up something cautiously with her thumb and index finger.  “Yuk. What in heaven’s name is this? What’s the matter with you? Why are you saving this? Whatever it is.”

I shrugged.

She said, “Just look at the expiration date on this. Wasn’t this when World War Two ended?”

I said, “While you’re doing that, I think I’ll go take a look at our marriage license.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.”

“Yeah, I want to see if it has an expiration date.”

She hit me with something unspeakable from the back of the fridge.

Now, in my world (a man’s bailiwick), everything is fair game to keep for a few days, or weeks, depending how hungry you get. When it starts growing moss on its north side, then it’s ok to toss it out.  A woman rummaging around in the fridge will start tossing things out willy nilly and higgidly piggidly. After the fridge has been stripped bare, its bones picked clean, the next search and destroy mission is a closet.

There go all those comfy shirts a guy likes to wear–once in a while. Get used to hearing the phrase, “You haven’t worn this in years.  Why keep it?”  By the way, you know the honeymoon is over when she stops saying, “You’re wearing that?” And starts saying, “You’re not wearing that.”

And get used to having all the guy stuff tossed out so there’s more room for the gal stuff, which is never enough because a woman never has anything to wear. It doesn’t fit anymore anyway, because we all know that a woman’s wardrobe, when kept in a closet for more than a month, shrinks at least two sizes. Pardon my complaining. I wanted to sleep on the couch tonight, anyway.

“No Pain, No Pain.”

Friday, February 1st, 2013

I’ve been to a lot of places, but I’ve never been in Cahoots. I’m told you can’t go there alone, you have to be in Cahoots with someone. I’ve never been in Cognito, but it doesn’t matter because no one recognizes you. One place I’ve been a few times is in Sane. The only was to get there is to be driven. Thanks to my family, friends, and work, I’ve made numerous trips there.

I’ve always wanted to go to Conclusions, but I’m told you have to jump, and I avoid excess physical activity. My motto is “No Pain, No Pain.”
I’ve also been in Doubt. I try not to go there, but I’m skeptical about anything that requires a contract. I’ve been in Flexible, particularly after a visit to Doubt. Sometimes I’m in Capable, usually after having been in Doubt and in Flexible.

I’ve been in Deepshit a few times, at work, at home

Notes for a Manifesto

Friday, February 1st, 2013

I’ve just registered I’ and here are the new non negotiable rules.

Speak English.

Learn the difference between “your” and “you’re.”

If you use the word hopefully, you must learn to use it correctly.

Presidential candidates, Senator Flip and Senator Flop, will be required to stop giving us those dental floss smiles as though they’re offering a bargain on a pre-owned SUV.

Michael Bloomberg will shut up about being the best mayor New York has ever had.  He will be reassigned as the dictator of an obscure South American country. If he prefers, he can give himself the title “Strongman.”

Imus will have to accept that the Rev Al is always listening.

Movie theatres will have one primary section: Non Talking; and a subsection: Talking, which will be a separate sound proof compartment.

The 1994 law restricting new toilets to 1.6 gallons of water per flush will be repealed.

A cell phone is no longer an exclusive status symbol. Everyone has a cell phone, including the night watchman at Stonehenge, the caretaker at Easter Island, and that pathetic shabby person crouched in a doorway, shaking coins in a grimy coffee cup, holding a crudely printed sign that says “will work for an IPO tip.”

And if you use a cell phone you will be required to speak in a normal conversational level.  You never sounded like Ethel Merman when you used a regular telephone, so be quiet when you use a cell phone. And if you simply must have a conversation on your cell phone, it has to be essential, not: “Hey, sappin? Wuzzup?”

If you text message while driving, consider making out a will.

People who park in handicapped spaces without valid permits will have to wear a sign that reads: “I’m an inconsiderate selfish jerk who also goes through the supermarket express lane with 359 items because I’m in a hurry and no one else matters.”

Motorcycles will have exhaust mufflers, and cyclists will not be allowed to travel in groups of more than three. Personal hygiene is mandatory.

Celebrities who are famous only because they’re well known will have to exhibit some kind of talent that’s entertaining but not offensive.

There will be no more smoking cigarettes, cigars, and pipes anywhere in public, even out of doors in those guilty little groups where no one looks at each other in their banished shame. Smokers will be allowed to poison their lungs and foul the air only in their own homes on alternate days, depending on whether house or building numbers are odd or even.

No more children in strollers if they look old enough to vote.

Fat people and their flabby kids will not be allowed to munch on potato chips or a barbecued chicken while blocking the aisles at the supermarket.

All children will stop being whiny and sulky and uncooperative. You are the kids. Adults are in charge. Live with it.

If you’re a college student, understand the following: You are in college to learn. A degree is not a negotiable commodity. You are not a consumer who can demand a degree simply because someone is paying for it. You will have to show up for class, pay attention, and even do the work expected of you outside the classroom, and understand and retain at least some of the knowledge your professors are trying to pry into what’s left of your brain after hours on the Internet and the iPod. Either pay attention and learn, or wonder why all the diligent kids got the good jobs out there in real life where employers will not accept frivolous excuses like Learning Disabled or Attention Deficit Disorder or Anxiety Attacks, and give you sympathy and extra time. If you’re a Liberal Arts Major, try practicing the phrase, “Want fries with that?”

There will be no rude noises, cracking of knuckles, or emissions of anything in public.

All television networks and cable operators will have a regular season for all shows, with no reruns permitted until the summer.

Physicians and dentists will be required to see their patients at the time of their appointments. Noisy television programs and loud music will not be allowed in these waiting rooms. In fact, annoying music will not be permitted anywhere, which will eliminate all bizarre, unattractive, and untalented people who get paid to abuse guitars and scream unintelligible lyrics.

Men will not be allowed to wear nose rings or earrings, unless they are registered and licensed as Holstein cows.

If you have a tattoo, you must keep it covered up while in public. You don’t have to remind everyone else how stupid you were. Just imagine how ugly and wrinkled those things will look in the nursing home. And you can’t drop them off at the thrift shop when they’re out of style.

Certain people will not be allowed in polite society:

  • Anyone with multiple facial piercings.
  • People who, in the winter say, “You call this cold?”
  • People who, in the summer say, “Hot enough for you?”
  • Martha Stewart.
  • Rachel Raye.
  • Rosie O’Donnell.
  • Donald Trump.
  • George Dubya Bush.
  • Anyone who voted for George Dubya Bush.
  • Dick Cheney.
  • Karl Rove.
  • Rap singers.
  • Wrestlers.
  • Lawyers.

All violators of these new rules, will be relocated to North Dakota. No one lives there, anyway.