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 |  Mulling, culling, and musing the confusing... in Blog format. |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I stand in awe of life's predisposition for imploding, swiftly morphing into a churning, perilous vortex that mankind is hard-pressed to navigate, let alone survive. Maintaining a foothold and emerging from the gales unscathed seems wholly contingent upon survivors' personal philosophies, capacity for tolerance, and coping skills. Without these, the vortex becomes the portal to a toxic black void, and man stands naked in the spiralling eddy, awaiting the final flush.** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Monsters Evil incarnate to their kind gives rise, their nourishment found in blood-curdling fear; horror-swept dreamscapes they stalk in disguise, unleashing terror, they draw ever near. Defiled wombs in hell to their kind give birth to seek symbiosis with souls in need; in lost and rejected spirits on earth ~ on their very marrow, such monsters feed. Iced are their fingers and vacant, their stare, black are their hearts, sustained by putrid breath; sucking the lifeblood imperilled souls share to spew forth their spawn of hatred and death. But they may not linger where Faith abides... for Hope's children fear not their raging tides. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The mission of this journal is to examine life issues that precipitate the storms and seek out the balms that soothe the wounds they inflict. It is my fervent hope that philosophically autopsying life issue outcomes will provide comfort in the midst of chaos and a keenly longed-for measure of inner peace. Bear in mind, dear Reader, that the thoughts to follow are only musings and by no means assertions of right or wrong. They are but a reflection of one soul's yearning to ascend from the roots of life to its flowering branches and taste of the fruits found therein. How, if at all, savory their flavors are deemed to be and whether or not they become a staple in one's spiritual diet is left to each reader's own palate. The journey thus begins...
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I think I now know why the No Particular Reason Blues are visiting my humble abode... as of right around the 3 A.M. bewitching hour last night, I was rudely awakened by physiological awareness that intestinal flu bugs have settled in to roost. Yechhhh  ... ah hates bein' under the weather this way. Headache, blurred vision, fever, chills, all-over aching... and various other Anatomical Adventures of the Third Kind. I can't complain... I very seldom get reaaaallly sick. But boy, howdy, when I do, it's Katie Bar the Door. Normally, aside from work, I tend to relish alone-time at home. I've never married and don't happen to be gay, and my circle of buds and aquaintances have, throughout my adult years, remained mystified by how happily I get by and seem to savor my private, "off-duty" time spent at home alone. The fact of the matter is - I love it. From as far back as childhood, I was never one to come to my Mother and whine... "I'm bored... there's nothing to do." To this day, my Mother still laughingly teases me with the assertion that I was just the opposite... I was always busy with something, whether it was in the company of childhood chums or all by myself. She said that even though the chronological date of my birth was a misfit, I was in many ways a self-sufficient "child of the Depression", and as independent as a hog on ice. By that, she meant that, like the children of her generation, I could play for hours and be wholly entertained with just the basics plus my imagination. And things haven't changed much in the half century since then ensuing. The icing on the cake my Mother provided us with in generous quantities was an appreciation of literature; both reading and writing it. I will thank her with all of my heart for that until the day I die. As a child and ever afterward, falling into a book has always been one of the best tools in my arsenal... even when too ill or when the weather is too inclement to do much of anything else, I can escape into other worlds via reading... or, for that matter, writing. I also dearly love to garden ( flowers AND veggies ), crafts of all kinds, crochetting, knitting, crewelling, fishing, and just plain goofin' off on a picnic or stroll in a park, wooded areas, near a body of water, etc. I'm not the least bit anti-social; I love interraction with other folks. But my job and the few true friends with whom I interract and/or gab, be it in real time or online, provide me with plenty of meaningful human-to-human contact... and I find that when I get home, rather than experiencing fear at the idea of being alone (possibly even for the rest of my life), I am quite content to be so. When I lived in Ohio and the Weatherman warned of a coming incapacitating snow storm, the possibility of being socked in for 3-4 days didn't bother me in the least... I wouldn't recognize Cabin Fever if it smacked me on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. All of the above fevered ramblings aside... there is one time when I like knowing someone is physically nearby. And that is when I'm sick. Once again, that was true even in childhood... Mother quickly discovered that I progressed through illnesses far more rapidly when she'd make a "nest" for me on the couch, with the rest of the family making their usual racket all around me, rather than putting me to bed, separated from other heartbeats. I've never figured out precisely why that is true, but it is. When I am sick and someone else is nearby, I don't ask them to attend to me or provide me with sympathy at all - I just feel better knowing that they're doing their own "thing" somewhere in my physical vicinity. Weird, huh? ANYhoo...... If this post makes absolutely no sense at all, it's primarily because I feet like 20 pounds of fertilizer in a 10-pound bag. It'll be interesting to re-visit this mess of an entry when I'm back on my pins and see how I write during semi-coma states. Until then, as Ebeneezer Scrooge once said... " I'll retire to bedlam. " |
| I have a case of the No Particular Reason Blues today, so I'm just gonna post a shortie entry and split like an overripe banana... I'm still in the running for the position I've applied for... it's an absolutely perfect position for me, is just blocks from where I live, and pays about $2.50 more per hour. Given the cost of gasoline and the flooding we experienced this past Spring and Summer, it would be very comforting to know I could walk to work if need be - and be only 3 minutes or so away from my home by car in the event an emergency arose. They've concluded a massive background check, and having passed that, I'm told that the remaining process leading up to a final choice is fairly swift; 10 days or less, as I understand it. I've no idea how many folks I'm competing against, and crossing my fingers that my age will not work against me here... and I have to admit ~ the suspense is killing moi!  Oh, well, as uttered in "The Wizard of Oz"..."... all in due time, my pretty ~ all in due time." |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Evil incarnate to their kind gives rise, their nourishment found in blood-curdling fear; horror-swept dreamscapes they stalk in disguise, unleashing terror, they draw ever near. Defiled wombs in hell to their kind give birth to seek symbiosis with souls in need; in lost and rejected spirits on earth ~ on their very marrow, such monsters feed. Iced are their fingers and vacant, their stare, black are their hearts, sustained by putrid breath; sucking the lifeblood imperilled souls share to spew forth their spawn of hatred and death. But they may not linger where Faith abides... for Hope's children fear not their raging tides. |
| A very shy and extremely modest man was in the hospital for a series of tests, the last of which had left his digestive system in a cramp-ridden uproar. After several exhaustive but unpropductive bouts in the bathroom, he decided that a new round of severe intestinal cramping was still another false alarm, and opted to ignore his body's frantic signals and remain in bed. Unfortunately, this time his intestines meant business, and he suddenly filled his bed with diarrhea, humiliating him beyond his ability to remain rational. In a chagrined panic, he leapt from his bed, gathered up the heavily soiled, odiferous sheets, and hurled them out of his hospital room window. It just so happened, though, that a highly intoxicated pedestrian was passing by below... and the diarrhea-drenched ball of sheets landed squarely on his shoulders. The schnockered man's subsequent yelling, cursing, and panic-induced flailing, punching, and kicking resulted in the soiled bundle lying inert in a tangled pile at his feet. As the drunk stood transfixed there, staring down in horror at the poopified pile of sheets, a beat cop who'd witnessed the incident approached the pickled pedestrian and inquired "What the hell was THAT all about, Buddy?" Still gawking down at his feet, the drunk replied: " I think I just beat the shit out of a ghost. " |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** THE CHILDREN OF HALLOWEEN S hadows are their web-draped lairs, P aling with morn's kiss, O nyxed dreams their thoroughfares, O ur screaming minds their bliss. K nowing that we are in sleep S urrendered to their haunts, A ware that while in slumber's keep N one escape their taunts. D ark they are and dark they bring, G aunt, their countenance; H orror is the song they sing... O ctober's recompense. S talking our humanity, T here to rut and feed, S kewering our sanity A nd watching psyches bleed. N etherworldly wombs do yawn; D emons by them birthed; D efiled, the ground they walk upon... E vil swells their girth. V illified, unholy spawn! I cy-fingered beasts! L ance deep their hearts, thou Champion, dawn... S wift be your sweet release! |
| Gee-DUH-ba-ya is far too busy waging war against the invisible terrorists assembling likewise invisible Weapons of Mass Destruction in Iraq right now, so I put together a collage of the Halloween costumes best suited to what laughingly passes for the Demagogue-in-Chief's "personality". That way, he needn't be distracted from his favorite pastimes of prevaricating and B.S.-ing in order to select a snappy ensemble for Beggar's night. Unfortunately, Beggar's Night for Gee-DUH-ba-ya means passing out disinterested glances at the homeless as he speeds by in his bullet-proof, $3.00-per-gallon-gasoline-guzzling Presidential Pumpkin Carriage. For him, October 31st will undoubtedly involve pretty much the same old same old... Tricking the American public and Treating himself and his loyal henchmen to generous measures of Monarchal arrogance spiked with a pervasive sense of entitlement. Whichever costume Baby Bush chooses... you can bet your sweet g-spot it'll be made out of Teflon. Knocking at the Whitehouse door on Beggars Night this year will undoubtedly be an exercise in futility... we'll simply be "treated" en masse to more insane, let's-ram-this-down-the-citizen's-throats-while-there's-still-time-in-my-second-stolen-Term-in-Office, foil-wrapped feces, passed off as candy to be swallowed in toto. Thank God for all of us, October 31, 2007 will be this particular Lack-o-Jantern's last Halloween in the White House... problem is, what he's gotten away with over the past 8 years will leave one hell of a lot of beggars bobbing for scraps in King George's bloody wake. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I was reading an amazing friend's journal today, and she dealt with a very interesting topic... one I long ago dubbed, "Caustic People and the Loved Ones They Scorch". We've all met and been singed by such people... many of us count them among our family members, loved ones, or "friends". They prey on folks' soft underbellies in order to conceal from everyone, often including themselves, the flaws in their own self-esteem. When people are secure with who they are and their own, self-contained potential for growth and betterment, no need exists to demean others or boast on any front, nor to insinuate (utilizing means ranging from insidiously subtle to bold-facedly blatant) that others are lacking in areas you deem yourself not to be. When a need to boast and/or make others feel small is demonstrated, it speaks volumes of an individual's own camouflaged flaws and self-doubts. It amounts to little more than psychological slight of hand and Deflection of the Third Kind... keep others off balance and somehow feeling substandard ~ and they'll be far less likely to spot the ever-widening fissures present in your own personna. In the particular case if my friend, I'd hope she'd consider carefully that inordinate physical beauty is a double edged sword... there's a lot of it out there and, if one has little to nothing in the way of substance and character to back it up, they are "desirable" only as long as their youthful beauty can sustain that desirability. When there really isn't anything of substance beneath a beautiful facade ~ and one is, with ever mounting desperation as passing years erode it, keeping that secret hidden away even from themselves ~ to bluster, demean, and and/or brag are all tactics commonly used by persons who's own self esteem is foundational upon a house of cards. It's an easy way out... an avenue for escape from the reality of our own faults by diverting the attention of those most likely to discern what is really going on behind elaborately erected sets of mirrors and smokescreens. At some juncture in life, however, such people arrive at a crossroads... either finish their lives endeavoring to outrun time's inevitable toll, or equip themselves with qualities of infinitesimally greater meaning and worth than outward beauty alone. Until that decision is made... and afterward, as well, if the second option is declined... sometimes the best way to deal with such folks is to neutralize their poison before it can negatively act upon our own existence. Regarding my friend, whose sister delights in rubbing her nose in her declaration that three hot men are pursuing her, my friend could earnestly reply with something along the lines of, "I'm happy for you, Sis! We're so different that way... I adore my husband and he's the ONLY man I'd want pursuing me... you're more of a feather in the breeze, tickling as many fellas as possible." She will have said nothing that's bitter or in any way spiteful... but by setting forth a truthful observation, she may find she has 1) stood her ground regarding her own values and worth, 2) set forth something for her sister to chew on, and 3) signalled that she and her sister have different but not necessarily mutually exclusive viewpoints on and approaches to life... and that her own is just as ~ if not more so ~ worthy as her sister's or anyone else's. If you neutralize their acid often enough, folks eventually stop pouring it on your toes. When you find yourself on the business end of a bad serve... return the ball to the server's court until they learn to play fair. |
You were there.... in that hidden, secret place none else could see; the empty, aching space so deep in me ~ you were there. Thorny walls around a wounded heart, undercurrents keeping us apart, odds against us from the very start ~ of them none could with your strength compare... and you were there. You conquered demons standing in your path, stemmed the flow of evil's aftermath, found the trembling child behind the mask... freed her captive heart and laid it bare by being there. Vanquishing relentless, choking fears, stilling horror's screams and searing tears, unfailingly courageous through the years ~ healing all with gentle, loving care while you were there. 'Twas then my fettered heart was freed from chains, flying far beyond all grief and pain, healed by love and soaring unrestrained, salvaged from the ashes of despair in the precious moments you were there. Yet, when all the battles had been won... just as my soul's depths first felt the sun ~ just when love and trust had made us one... at the long awaited hour of our dawn I found you'd gone. Like a frightened doe, I froze in place, ventured not one step beyond that space where pain had been assuaged by your embrace.... trying hard to mend the broken bonds ~ but you were gone. Time, it's said, heals each and every wound love that burned so bright is never doomed... though in silence it may lie entombed, locked once more inside its fortress strong; the place my soul returned once you were gone. Safe therein my spirit once more sleeps, yet lives on and for it none must weep, by the light of faith it vigil keeps... tenderly preserving in its care the memories of our love when you were there. In this sequestered chamber to abide despite the bitter winds that rage outside, our love now tossed upon an ebbing tide... when I find it's solace sweet denied, back through the mists of time I'll cast my stare ~ and find you there. |
~ Quote for the Day ~ [ From the Movie, "Fried Green Tomatoes"... the retort uttered by Kathy Bates after repeatedly ramming her Cadillac into a V.W. Bug, pushing it out of a parking space that two women had jumped ahead of Bates and parked in and then jeered, "Face it, lady... we're younger and faster than you are!"]" Face it, girls... I'm older and have more insurance. " |
| More and more, as time goes by (and in my case, a great deal of it certainly has ), I've come to believe that the cycnicism prevailing in ever more rampant quantities these days is, for the most part, naught but an avoidance/escape tactic we'd be far better off to discard. It's simply too tempting an avenue for dismissing issues or responsibilities that have much to offer and teach were they to be squarely faced and met head on. In one of our famous long distance yack-a-thons last evening, Bunkie and I were gabbing about the coming holidays, and he remarked that he was looking forward to raptly watching the movies, "A Christmas Story" and, "It's a Wonderful Life" with both his fireplace and his very first full size Christmas tree ablaze in his brand new home this Holiday Season. As we chattered on like excited, anticipatory children about events still three months way, I was silently recalling the days some 19 or so years ago now when I first met Bunkie... and how sad I'd felt for him when he'd speak of the Christmas Holidays as too "commercialized" and groused about Christmas decorations popping up on store shelves as early as October, summarizing by declaring that "I'm always happy to see Christmas on it's way out the door for another year". For me, the song lyrics "we need a little Christmas, right this very minute..." had come to be a closely held credo of sorts... I adored the concepts of "Christmas in July" and keeping a "Christmas Room" in my home year 'round just so I could get a dose of Christmas whenever I felt the need to wrap myself in it's magic. Furthermore, I staunchly considered (both then and now) October 1st to be the chronological official start of the Holiday Season. Granted, Bunkie had very valid points regarding the immense amount of commercialism in which many, be it actively or passively, immerse the Holidays. But what he's now come to understand is that the commercialism itself does not diminish the wonders and joy inherent to the Holidays... only permitting ourselves to be swept up in the commercialism does. I love the expression, "Remember the Reason for the Season" ~ it puts everything back in perspective straight away. It is not a particular, red-inked date on a calendar that makes a holiday a Holiday... it is the process of annually revisiting the spirit, customs, celebrated beliefs, and traditions that render them thus. Instead of a time for allowing our sorrow and grief over losses, particularly that of loved ones who have passed away, to be heightened and focused upon, we can opt to set aside the Holidays as a time to celebrate their lives, speak to them in our hearts, and cherish the memories with which they've gifted us for a lifetime. There is no need to succomb to pressures to spend inordinate amounts of money, nor to hearken to the pull of depressionand despair that so many attach to the coming holidays. Rather, all we need do is open our hearts to the spirit of the season... and the bounty of gifts that bear no price tag whatsoever that can be plentifully harvested therein. Children carry memories of family time set aside for crafting homemade Holiday gifts and decorations, baking or cooking special Holiday treats, reading/watching/sharing Holiday tales, ice skating, playing in the snow, exploring Jack Frost's artistry in a nearby park, etc., with them for a lifetime... far longer than those of expensive toys and gadgets destined to be broken and/or discarded before they can even be paid off on our charge accounts. And if you have no children of your own... there are many to be found in hospitals, orphanages, etc. who would welcome a bit of Holiday magic with open arms. There is no need to be alone at the holidays, no matter what your circumstances might be... there are people everywhere around you who need you ~ and who, if you but give them the chance, will show you that you need them just a much. The power and magic of Holidays is wholly independent of commercialism if we chose to make them so... and a time when it's perfectly acceptable to knock on the door of your soul and invite your inner child to come out and play. Cast off all that would fetter you and romp, dream, explore, dance, embark on assundry adventures, and drink deeply of the basic joys of life with that child to your heart's sweet content. For even if he or she never knew them fully while in first bloom... you can both now make up for lost time. |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Haiku and Senryu are Oriental forms of poetry that must comply with strict rules for their formats. Each such poem has only three lines and a total of 17 syllables: 5 syllables in the first line, 7 syllables in the second, and 5 syllables in the third. Haikus, known for their Zen-like quality, are utilized to communicate a timeless message, often achieving a wistful, yearning and powerful insight through extreme brevity. Below are Microsoft error messages, in Haiku/Senryu form. Eat your heart out, Mr. Gates! : Your file was so big. It might be very useful. But now it is gone. The Web site you seek Cannot be located, but Countless more exist. Chaos reigns within. Reflect, repent, and reboot. Order shall return. Program aborting: Close all that you have worked on. You ask far too much. Windows NT crashed. I am the Blue Screen of Death. No one hears your screams. Yesterday it worked. Today it is not working. Windows is like that. First snow, then silence. This thousand-dollar screen dies So beautifully. With searching comes loss And the presence of absence: "My Novel" not found. The Tao that is seen Is not the true Tao until You bring fresh toner. Stay the patient course. Of little worth is your ire. The network is down. A crash reduces Your expensive computer To a simple stone. Three things are certain: Death, taxes, and lost data. Guess which has occurred. You step in the stream, But the water has moved on. This page is not here. Out of memory. We wish to hold the whole sky, But we never will. Having been erased, The document you're seeking Must now be retyped. Serious error. All shortcuts have disappeared. Screen. Mind. Both are blank *Source: http://people.bu.edu/wwildman/WeirdWildWeb/jokes_wordplay.htm#Computer%20Haiku |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** SIGNS THAT YOU'RE TOO DAMN OLD TO BE TRICK-OR-TREATING... You get winded from knocking on the door. You have to have another kid chew the candy for you. You ask for high-fiber candy only. When someone drops a candy bar in your bag, you lose your balance and fall over. People exclaim, " Great Keith Richards mask! " and you're not wearing a mask. When the door opens you yell, "Trick or..." and can't remember the rest. At the end of the evening, you have a treat bag full of Restraining Orders. You have to carefully choose a costume that won't dislodge your hairpiece. You're the only Power Ranger in the neighborhood with a walker. You avoid going to houses where your ex-spouses live. Your mask choices are limited to those with built-in bifocals. You're wearing a Lawrence Welk costume. One of your Your Flintmobile's rear rocks goes flat. Battery-powered jack-o-lanterns cause electrical interference with your pacemaker. You assume "a can of Whoop-ass" is some newfangled candy you've never seen advertised. The clerk at the Costume Shoppe gives you a Senior Citizen's Discount. You're able to Trick-or-Treat at more houses because you can legally park in Handicapped slots. You consider tubes of Ben-Gay, jars of prunes, flasks of Geritol, or a few Spare Viagra an excellent choice in the way of treats. Your breasts bounce off your knee caps while running up to a front porch and smack you in the forehead, dropping you like a pole axe. You never have your treats x-rayed at the local hospital because straight pins and razor blades are your idea of roughage. Your hot flashes set your costume ablaze. You have to leave a trail of candy corn to find your way back home. A treat-giver solicits your expression of gratitute by asking, "What's the magic word?"... and you respond, " Shuffleboard?" Your Seeing Eye dog scares other Trick-or-Treaters. Your Depends keep bunching up under your Super Hero tights. You're racing the clock to get home in time to watch The Ed Sullivan Show. Your Edsel runs out of gas. Your black cat and your pussy have both gone grey. You spent last Halloween in the Burn Unit after bobbing for french fries instead of apples at the Ronald MacDonald Halloween Bash. Your athletic supporter is fresh out of athlete. The jack-o-lantern on your neighbor's porch has more teeth than you do. Your dinosaur refuses to keep his mask on. Your glow-in-the-dark stick drains your hearing aid batteries. You myopically mistake Ted Kennedy's head for a jack-o-lantern and try to blow him out. You think pranking non-treat-dispensing houses is a waste of perfectly good toilet paper. You mistake your own penis for a flashlight. You mistake someone else's penis for a flashlight. You accidentally shift into Reverse instead of First Gear and back your Hover-round over a 6-year-old dressed like a fire plug. |
| I've decided to make my Blog theme for October "Satirically Spooky Spoofs", and chose the below cheeky piece to kick off the festivities. Much of what I'll post this month will be the product of jokes and funny stories I've heard or been given copies at work. Some will come from Googlethons. Wherever I can, I'll post the name of the author, if available. But I'll only claim responsibility for joke or story that is my own work by affixing my name to it... otherwise, assume that someone else desrves the credit for a particular piece. Let's have a ghostly good time this month, shall we.....? Muuu-ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!! *wide, evil grin* May the Spoofs be with us! HOW TO GIVE A CAT A PILL 1) Pick cat up and cradle it in the crook of your left arm as if holding a baby. Position right forefinger and thumb on either side of cat's mouth, and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding pill in right hand. As cat opens mouth, pop pill into mouth. Allow cat to close mouth and swallow. 2) Retrieve pill from floor, and cat from behind sofa. Cradle cat in left arm and repeat process. 3) Retrieve cat from bedroom. Throw soggy pill away. 4) Take new pill from foil wrap. Cradle cat in left arm while holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten. 5) Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from atop the Grandfather clock. Call spouse in from the garden. 6) Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees, holding front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat's throat vigorously. 7) Retrieve cat from curtain rail and get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered Doulton figurines from hearth and set to one side for gluing later. 8) Wrap cat in large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil, and blow pill down drinking straw and hence, down cat’s throat. 9) Check label on pill bottle to insure pill not is harmful to humans and drink glass of water to wash errant pill's aftertaste away. Ascertain if spouse has an extra Valium. Apply tourniquet to spouse's forearm and remove blood from carpet with cold water and soap. 10) Retrieve cat from neighbor's shed. Get another pill. Place cat in cupboard and close door onto neck to leave head showing. Force mouth open with desert spoon. Flick pill down throat with heavy grade rubber band band. 11) Fetch screwdriver from garage and raplace door on its on hinges. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for date of last tetanus shot. Throw tattered and bloody tee-shirt away and fetch new one from bedroom. 12) Call fire department to retrieve cat from tree across the road. Apologize to neighbor who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Remove remaining last pill from foil-wrap. 13) Tie cat's front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining table. Retrieve heavy duty pruning gloves from shed. Force cat's mouth open with small wrench. Push pill into mouth, followed by a sizable piece of filet mignon. Hold head vertically and pour 1/2 pint of water down throat to wash pill down. 14) Have spousedrive you to the Emergency Room. Remain calm and breath deeply to combat symptoms of shock as the Doctor sutures your arm back onto your torse and plucks pill shards from your right eye. Contact a furniture store on way home to order new Dining Room table. 15) Arrange for SPCA to collect cat. Call pet shop to see if they have any hamsters or fish. |
| I'm posting the following because Mary Lou Who Henner's bought a one-way ticket to Snit City over my earlier, somewhat... ahem... chauvinistic, "Tell HIM You've Got a Headache" Blog entry. She's been sick these past coupla days and I don't want her havin' an apoplexy over this Sicilian thing that's been going on for hundreds of years... over this 'chauvinistic porcine' situation. Time to balance the Venus vs. Mars teeter totter in favor of da femmes... . ::::::~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ EVE WAS FIRST... "And God created woman. She had two arms, two legs and three breasts. And it was good. And God asked woman what she would like changed about herself. And she asked for her middle breast to be removed. And it was good. She stood with her third breast in her hand and asked God what should be done with the useless boob? ...And God created man." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ EQUITABLE DISTRIBUTION... God was just about finished with creating the universe, but He had two extra things left in His treasure chest of creations, and decided to split them between Adam and Eve. After finding them chillin' under an apple tree, he advised Adam and Eve that one of the things He still had left to give away was the ability to stand up while urinating. "It's a very handy thing," God told them "I was wondering if either one of you are keen on posessing this ability." Adam immediately leaped up and blurted out, "Oh, give that to ME, God! I'd LOVE to be able to do that... it's the kind of thing a MAN should be able to do. Oh please, oh please, oh please, please, please... gimme, gimme, GIMME that ability! It'll be SO great! Anytime I'm busy working in the garden or naming the animals, I can just stand there and let fly! I could even write my name in the dirt... that would be SO so cool! Oh please God, let it be ME You bestow this great gift upon! Let MEN stand and pee, oh please !" On and on Adam went, like an hyperactive, pestering little child. Eve just smiled. She told God that if Adam really wanted that gift so badly, he should be the one to possess it. The idea did, after all, seemed to make him ecstatically happy, and Eve told God she really wouldn't mind if Adam, instead of she, was the endowed with the ability. And so it came to pass that Adam and all men were imbued with the ability to control the direction of their misdirection while in a vertical position. Overcome with joy, Adam enthusiastically celebrated by thoroughly wetting down the bark on the apple tree, giggling with delight all the while. And it was all good.... Smiling tolerantly at Adam's boyish jubilance, God turned his attention back into His near-empty treasure chest. It was, after all, the patient and generous Eve's turn... "What's left here for the Woman?", He mused aloud, and after rummaging for a bit, God said... "Here you are, Eve... the very last item left in the treasure chest...multiple orgasms." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (I saved the best for last... ...)MALE-BASH CENTRAL Q & A's... Q: Why do men become smarter during sex? A: Because they're plugged into a genius. Q: Why don't women blink during foreplay? A: They don't have time. Q: Why does it take 1 million sperm to fertilize 1 egg? A: They won't stop for directions. Q: Why did God put men on earth? A: Because a vibrator can't mow the lawn. Q: Why don't women have men's brains? A: Because they don't have penises to put them in. Q: What do electric trains and breasts have in common? A: They're intended for children, but it's the men who usually end up playing with them. Q: Why do men snore when they lay on their backs? A: Because their balls fall over their assholes and they vapor lock. Q: Why do men masturbate? A: It's sex with someone they love. Q: Why were men given larger brains than dogs? A: So they won't hump women's legs at cocktail parties. Q: Why did God make men before women? A: You need a rough draft before you have a final copy. Q: Why is a man's pee yellow and his sperm white? A: So he can tell if he is coming or going. Q: How many men does it take to put the toilet seat down? A: Nobody knows, it hasn't happened yet. Q: What is the thinnest book in the world? A: What men know about women. Q: How many men does it take to screw in a light bulb? A: One. Men will screw anything. Q: How does a man take a bubble bath? A: He eats beans for dinner. Q: What's a man's idea of foreplay? A: A half hour of begging. Q: How can you tell if a man is sexually aroused? A: He's breathing Q: What's the difference between men and government bonds? A: Government bonds mature. Q: How do you save a man from drowning? A: Take your foot off of his head. Q: What do men an beer bottle have in common? A: They are both empty from the head up. Q: How can you tell if a man is happy? A: Who cares? Q: How many men does it take to change a roll of toilet paper? A: We don't know. It's never happened. Q: How are men and parking spots alike? A: The good ones are always taken and the only ones left are handicapped. Q: What is a man's idea of helping out with housework? A: Lifting his leg so you can vacuum. |
| A mother and her hyper-inquisitve pre-schooler son were flying TWA from Kansas to Chicago. The son, who'd up until then been passing the time by looking out the plane's window and firing a plethora of obtuse questions, turned to his mother and said, "If big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" The mother, finding herself at a loss for an answer for the boy's inquiry, impatiently advised him instead to go ask the Flight Attendent. So the boy toddled up to the front of the cabin, tugged at a Flight Attendant's sleeve, and asked, "Ma'am, if big dogs have baby dogs and big cats have baby cats, why don't big planes have baby planes?" Noticing the child's mother guiltily averting her eys, the Attendent's suspicious response to the little shaver was, "Did your Mommy send you up here to ask me that?" The child affirmed that yes, she had. The Flight Attendent leaned over and conspiratorily whispered in the boys ear... "Tell you Mommy I said that our our big planes don't have baby planes because TWA always pulls out on time." |
| It was a beautiful, warm spring day, and a man and his wife were at the zoo. She was wearing a fetching pink, airy and loose-fitting dress, sleeveless with spaghetti straps. As they sauntered through the ape exhibit and passed in front of a very large gorilla, the gorilla went... well... ape. The beast jumped up on the bars, holding on with one hand (and two feet), grunting and pounding his chest with his free hand. He was obviously intensely twitterpated by the pretty lady in the gossamer dress. The husband, noting the the gorilla's excitement, suggested that his lovely wife tease the poor animal even more. He told her to pucker her lips, wiggle her bottom, and bat her long-lashed eyes. His wife complied, and Mr. Gorilla grew even more aroused, making noises that would wake the dead. Hubby then prompted his wife to drop one of the straps off her shoulder, which she did. By now, the gorilla teetered on the verge of tearing his cage bars down with his bare hands. "Now try lifting your hem up over your thighs", the mischevious husband said. ... This, of course, drove the gorilla to the frenzied brink of testosterone-induced insanity. Just then, the husband seized his wife by the hair, ripped open the cage door, propelled her inside, slammed the door behind her, and with a satisfied smile on his face exclaimed... "Now, tell HIM you have a headache!" |
| It was autumn, and the Native Americans on a remote reservation asked their new Chief if the winter was going to be cold or mild. A brand new Chief who'd been reared in modern day society, he'd never been taught the ancient ancestoral secrets of weather prediction, and even when he gazed Heavenward, he could discern no clues regarding what the coming winter might hold. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he informed the tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold, and directed his people to begin collecting wood in preparation. But he was a practical and honor-bound leader, and several days later, the young Chief got an idea. He went to a phone booth, dialed the National Weather Service, and inquired, "Can you tell me if the coming winter is going to be cold?" "It looks like this winter is going to be extremely frigid, indeed," the NWS Meteorologist replied. . So the Chief hurried back to his people and instructed them to collect even more wood to see the tribe through the cold winter to come. After about a week, he telephoned the National Weather Service again. "Is it going to be a very cold winter?", he asked. "Yes," the Weather Service expert once more responded, "it's going to be a an extremely, cold winter, I assure you." The Chief again hastened back to his people and issued an urgent edict that every single scrap of wood they could find be collected and stored, post haste. Two weeks thereafter, he dropped yet another quarter on the NWS. "Are you absolutely positive that this winter is going to be bitterly cold?" "We certainly are," came the the NWS spokesman's reply, " It's going to be one of the coldest winters ever! " "How can you be so sure?" the young Chief asked. The Weatherman answered... "The Indians are gathering wood like crazy!" |
| ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "Come with Me," His voice beckoned from the swept shore's edge, " I'll lead you away from the storms and warm your chilled soul with My light." "Come with Me," were His words at the steep, jagged ledge where I lay bleeding, broken and torn. " I'll carry you out of the night." "Come with Me," came His call from above the dark hole where I'd stumbled and wept in despair. "Take my hand and know my embrace." "Come with Me," He pronounced from a green, sunkissed knoll; radiant, resplendent, tended with care. "Match every step with My pace." "Come with Me," He beckoned as He held forth His hand, " I will share with you secrets untold and fill you with consummate peace." "Come with Me," He bid, "draw nigh and at My side stand. In my arms your lost soul I'll enfold, My promise to you its release." "Come with Me... walk beside me in my Father's ways. He touches and calms fainting hearts of each man who harkens and hears." "Come with me." May those words resonate through my days. each morning's dawn a promised new start, My Savior e'r watchful and near. |
| Sometimes Airline Pilots and Flight Crew Personnel endeavor to add a bit of levity to their pre- and in-flight safety lectures and assundry announcements. Courtesy of "The Airport Blogger ", actual examples of such announcements, made to actual airline passengers, follow: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane..." Pilot: "Folks, we have reached our cruising altitude now, so I am going to switch the seat belt sign off. Feel free to move about the cabin as you wish, but please stay inside the plane till we land... it's a bit cold outside, and if you walk on the wings, it affects the flight pattern." And, after landing: "Thank you for flying Delta Business Express. We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride." As the plane landed and was taxi-ing to a stop at Washington National, a lone voice came over the cockpit loudspeaker: "Whoa, big fella, WHOA!" After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in Memphis, a Flight Attendant on a Northwest flight announced: "Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that, sure as hell everything will have shifted." From a Southwest Airlines Flight Attendant : "Welcome aboard Southwest Flight XXX to YYY. To operate your seatbelt, insert the metal tab into the buckle and pull it tight. Our flight seatbelts work just like every other seatbelt, and if you don't know how to operate one, you probably shouldn't be out in public unsupervised. In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are traveling with two small children, decide now which one you love more. Captain's announcement to in-flight passengers: The weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but they'll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you and remember ~ nobody loves you, or your money, more than Southwest Airlines." "As you exit the plane, please make sure to gather all of your belongings. Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the Flight Attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses." Flight Attendant's post-landing announcement: "Thank you for flying XXX Airlines. Last one off the plane must clean it." Another Flight Attendant's comment on a less than perfect landing: "We ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangaroo bounces us to the terminal." After a real crusher of a landing in Phoenix, the Flight Attendant announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until Captain Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt up against the gate. Once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we'll open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal. Part of a Flight Attendant's arrival announcement: "We'd like to thank you folks for flying with us today, and the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you'll think of us here at US Airways." "Your seat cushions can be used for flotation, and in the event of an emergency water-landing, please take them with our compliments." On a Southwest flight, the Pilot announced over the P.A. System, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we've reached our cruising altitude now, and I'm turning off the seat belt sign. Then I'll be switching over to Autopilot so that I can come back there and visit with all of you for the rest of the flight." And from another jocular Pilot during his welcome message: "Our Airline boasts some of the best flight attendants in the industry. Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight." "We do feature a smoking section on this flight ~ if you must smoke, contact a member of the Flight Crew and we will escort you to the wing of the airplane." "Smoking in the lavatories is prohibited. Any person caught smoking in the lavatories will be asked to leave the plane immediately." Overheard from a young pilot: "Sorry about the rough landing, folks I'm practicing for a job at USAir. Next time, I'll try to lose your luggage." On a Southwest flight delayed at the gate after everyone boarded, the Flight Attendant announced via intercom: "We're sorry for the delay, folks. The machine that normally rips the handles off your luggage is broken, so we're having to do it by hand. We should be finished and on our way shortly." Spoken in a halting monotone by a newbie male Flight Attendant: "Pushing the button with the picture of the light bulb turns the light on. Pushing the button with the picture of the flight attendent ... uh, .... does not turn us on." Following a brutal landing,a Pilot annnounced on the P.A. System: "Sorry about the hard landing, folks...it wasn't the pilot's fault, and it wasn't the plane's fault. It was the asphault." "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking, and on behalf of all of us at Alaska Airlines we'd like to thank you for flying with us today. We're beginning our descent into Los Angeles and we'd like to ask you to stow your baggage and bring your tables and seatbacks into the upright position." * pause * ... "Oh, and folks... I've been reminded to inform you that as you de-plane and proceed to the baggage claim area, you may notice tons and tons of mistletoe hanging at the gates of our competitors. Don't be alarmed ~ it's simply there to remind you that when you fly our with our competitors, you can plan on kissing your luggage goodbye......" "Ladies and Gentlemen, we have someone celebrating his 65th Birthday today by taking his first flight." (a spontaneous round of applause breaks out in the passenger compartments)... ..."So when we land and before you disembark , be sure to stop by the cockpit and wish Capt. Jones a Happy Birthday." "If your carry-on baggage won't fit in the overhead compartments, please ram, cram, or jam it under the seat in front of you." "Remain in your seat with your seatbelt fastened and your seatback and tray upright until the airplane comes to a complete stop at the gate and we've extinguished the seatbelt sign. There are television cameras in the cabin, so if you get up before we stop, your picture will be transmitted by satellite to Flight Attendant Central, and you will never get another bag of peanuts again." Coming back from Vegas to Austin on Southwest Airlines, our 737 was, for the most part, filled to capacity with business-type, suit-and-tie guys. We were all getting settled, digging for magazines, pulling out laptops, joking, chatting, laughing, etc., when the Flight Attendant asked over the intercom, "Did anyone lose a brown wallet?" All talking and all commotion instantly ceased as hands instinctively went for back pockets and eyes went forward to where she was standing in the now completely silent cabin. She then announced, "Now that I have your attention, I'd like to point out the emergency exits located on either side of the aircraft..." Southwest Captain (on the plane's P.A. system, explaining a delay) : "Sorry, folks, but our landing has been delayed by a mechanical failure. The automatic machine that beats up and loses your luggage is not functioning properly and we'll have to wait for repairs." |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** On a warm Summer day, Mommy told you in her tummy there slept a surprise. Inside her, your wee baby sister hidden away from all eyes. Mommy said, "Just like you, she's a Princess... for now, many secrets she keeps... she'll come tell them all this September ~ for now, she is growing and sleeps. Like yours, her cheeks rosy with kisses, from Angels in Heaven above who sang to you both inside Mommy and brought you to Earth to be loved. Time passed, as it will, for sweet little girls and soon you had learned many things; how to coo and then talk, crawl and then walk, and bask in the magic life brings. All the while, Mommy's belly grew bigger and soon, the big question became, "What will we call this new baby? What shall we chose for her name?" "We've already given a beautiful one to our Little Princess, Jade... what name is as pretty and special as the choice we've already made?" The Angels who told Mommy your name while in her you nestled and slept came once again and whispered to her the name for your new sister kept. "Tessa", they murmered in Mommy's dreams, "is a name Jade will love to say when Baby Sister finally arrives on a sunny September day." The Angels explained to your Mommy, as their glittering harps they played "How lucky wee Baby Tessa will be to have a Big Sister like Jade!" "No dearer child could God possibly find to watch over Tessa and teach her magic and secrets Jade already knows ~ share giggles and hiccups and whispers." Wondrous, the little girl destined to be Tessa's sister ~ an Angel on Earth... before God sent Tessa to live in the world, before the day came for her birth. He deemed Jade perfect, with Angel-kissed cheeks, when finally, His searching was done, Every Angel in Heaven sang for weeks, "Little Jade is just the right one!" As Mommy promised, tiny Tessa has come; already, she looks up to you... as you peek in her cradle when naptime is done, cooing, " Big Sister Jade loves you! " |
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