Friday, October 31, 2008
Pathetic
The sad part is that she really believes it. Who does she think is going to pay for her gas and mortgage?
Civic duty
I got to vote today. I usually like to wait until the actual election day but I this time I just couldn't wait. I had to wait in line for about twenty minutes and this is going to sound a little corny but I was kind of glad to wait. As I stood there with my neighbors and peers, I thought about the people in Iraq who had to walk for miles and dodge mines and literally step over dead bodies to get to their polling places just for the priviledge of casting their vote. We take that priviledge for granted here and I felt like I should get my finger dipped in purple ink when I left just because I waited for a few minutes in the air conditioning.
When I got to the voting booth, I carefully studied the ballot and reviewed the candidates for President. I recalled all of the debates, the advertising and the stump speeches made by both candidates. I thought about the experience of both men and their promises to make America better. I mulled over the platforms of both and finally made my decision as I thought to myself, "Do I want to vote for killing babies or against killing babies"? Hmmm...Amongst all the other overwhelming reasons to vote for McCain (not that he is the perfect candidate) one has to look at this election in those terms.
Somebody at church told me the other day he had a fairly friendly but intense debate with another church member about Obama and McCain. How does that even turn into a debate between two Christians? I can see the Obama guy making his case and the McCain guy closing it up with one word: Abortion. Debate over, thank you.
What are people thinking? Look, if you want socialism and higher taxes and you don't care about winning any war or protecting babies or the Second Amendment and it doesn't bother you that even Joe Biden doesn't think Obama is qualified, then go for it. Vote Obama. If good character is not important and it obviously is not to Democrats who proved that with Bill Clinton, then by all means vote for Mr. Hope and Change. It obviously doesn't matter who the guy is friends with or what he has said or done or not done in the past. He's a good speaker and he's black. What else could you want? I'm just proud we get to vote. Let's hope it stays that way.
When I got to the voting booth, I carefully studied the ballot and reviewed the candidates for President. I recalled all of the debates, the advertising and the stump speeches made by both candidates. I thought about the experience of both men and their promises to make America better. I mulled over the platforms of both and finally made my decision as I thought to myself, "Do I want to vote for killing babies or against killing babies"? Hmmm...Amongst all the other overwhelming reasons to vote for McCain (not that he is the perfect candidate) one has to look at this election in those terms.
Somebody at church told me the other day he had a fairly friendly but intense debate with another church member about Obama and McCain. How does that even turn into a debate between two Christians? I can see the Obama guy making his case and the McCain guy closing it up with one word: Abortion. Debate over, thank you.
What are people thinking? Look, if you want socialism and higher taxes and you don't care about winning any war or protecting babies or the Second Amendment and it doesn't bother you that even Joe Biden doesn't think Obama is qualified, then go for it. Vote Obama. If good character is not important and it obviously is not to Democrats who proved that with Bill Clinton, then by all means vote for Mr. Hope and Change. It obviously doesn't matter who the guy is friends with or what he has said or done or not done in the past. He's a good speaker and he's black. What else could you want? I'm just proud we get to vote. Let's hope it stays that way.
Somebody stole my Halloween!
It's nearly 8:00 pm and we have not had one trick or treater. No pirates. No jokers. No princesses (I have enough of those at my house any way!). What happened to Halloween? Did somebody call it off and nobody told me? Nobody even calls it Halloween anymore. Well, the churches don't call it Halloween, at least. They all have "Fall Festivals" or "Harvest Fests" or just "Trunk or Treats" How lame! When I was a kid our church had a spook house and a Halloween carnival. And we called it Halloween and nobody got sacrificed to Wicca or had any spell cast on them. Bring back my Halloween! Besides, what am I gonna do with all this candy?
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Storytime
The year is 1981 and I am a freshman in high school. Could there be a more difficult time in a young man's life, I mean, as a rule? I was sitting at the lunch table with several friends when "she" walked in the lunchroom. "She" didn't know I existed but I knew who she was. Her name was Theresa and she was so hot! All the other girls hated her. You know, that kinda hot. Everybody knew that she was dating a senior and had been for awhile. I had a conversation with her one time when we almost bumped into each other in the hallway. "Oh, excuse me", I said. "Sorry", said she. Yep, that was it. I was just glad I didn't screw that much up. And we nearly made eye contact so that was good!
When she walked into the lunchroom that day I made the mistake of admiring her beauty out loud in front of my friends. When I said something about her one of my buddies looked at me and then he looked at her and then called her over to our table! Oh! Oh! This is bad! My heart stopped. I almost gagged as I muttered his name in horror. She came over to the table and my friend motioned for her to come closer and then he whispered something in her ear. The whole lunchroom is watching as time comes to almost a surreal stop. She listens and then looks right at me across the table like she was looking at a wounded kitten. "I'm sorry. I already have a date for Homecoming".
When she walked into the lunchroom that day I made the mistake of admiring her beauty out loud in front of my friends. When I said something about her one of my buddies looked at me and then he looked at her and then called her over to our table! Oh! Oh! This is bad! My heart stopped. I almost gagged as I muttered his name in horror. She came over to the table and my friend motioned for her to come closer and then he whispered something in her ear. The whole lunchroom is watching as time comes to almost a surreal stop. She listens and then looks right at me across the table like she was looking at a wounded kitten. "I'm sorry. I already have a date for Homecoming".
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Now there's an idea!
Now I do not condone "Hit a Jew Day" in any way, shape or form but I think those mush-brain kids may be on to something. The "Hit a Tall Person Day" is pretty good but may have serious consequences and I've warned you about consequences before! "Hug a Friend Day" is either gay or could get you in trouble at work (or both) and about the only thing in the world I'm too mature for is "High Five Day".
But they may be on to something with a "Hit the --fill in the blank --Day". The possibilities are endless and why does that make me smile? I'm not talking about beating somebody up or any thing approaching violence but, you know, just a good, hard punch to the back in between the shoulder blades. Just get their attention, maybe make 'em lose their breath for minute. No harm done.
There will have to be some rules. You know me. I'm all about rules so here are some guidelines: Nobody below the age of, oh, let's say five. Nobody over the age of eighty-nine. Except for illegal aliens. They are all fair game since they waived their rights when came over illegally. Gypsies get hit twice and zombies just have to be shot. Simple enough? Ok, here are some of the days I thought of off the top of my head:
"Hit the Cat Day"
"Hit the Free Credit Report.com Guy Day"
"Hit the Undecided Voter Day"
"Hit the World's Biggest Cowboys Fan Day" (so obnoxious!)
"Hit the My Child is an Honor Student Day" (Parent and student)
So, what days do you think we should have?
But they may be on to something with a "Hit the --fill in the blank --Day". The possibilities are endless and why does that make me smile? I'm not talking about beating somebody up or any thing approaching violence but, you know, just a good, hard punch to the back in between the shoulder blades. Just get their attention, maybe make 'em lose their breath for minute. No harm done.
There will have to be some rules. You know me. I'm all about rules so here are some guidelines: Nobody below the age of, oh, let's say five. Nobody over the age of eighty-nine. Except for illegal aliens. They are all fair game since they waived their rights when came over illegally. Gypsies get hit twice and zombies just have to be shot. Simple enough? Ok, here are some of the days I thought of off the top of my head:
"Hit the Cat Day"
"Hit the Free Credit Report.com Guy Day"
"Hit the Undecided Voter Day"
"Hit the World's Biggest Cowboys Fan Day" (so obnoxious!)
"Hit the My Child is an Honor Student Day" (Parent and student)
So, what days do you think we should have?
Bammie's "Storytime"
I don't know how many of you read any of the comments that people leave here but it's the main reason I write anything is just to read what other people have to say. Sometimes stupid, sometimes insightful and some, like this one, are just flat entertaining! This is a response to my first "Storytime" a few days ago:
I just read the "Storytime" about JD. Loved it! Now for one of my own. About a kitty, however, not a real kitty, but a "granddaughter" kitty. While at the hospital in North Caroline where my daughter was being cared for during her difficult pregnancy, my granddaugter and I were leaving one afternoon. Peyton was dressed as a kitty cat. We trudged all the way to the car with our "stuff" in hand. Once there, Peyton declared that she "needed to go." Oh my gosh! Peyton, I exclaimed. We just left the hospital! Couldn't you have gone to the bathroom while we were in the building? Now, we have to go ALL THE WAY BACK (for a grandmother, this can be a very exhausting trek.) Peyton looked up at me and said, "Bammie, when a cat's got to pee, a cat's got to pee!" I nearly fell over with laughter. So there you have it! When a grandmother has got to pee, a grandmother has got to pee! See you later!
Thanks, Bammie, you made me laugh! We love you and we are praying for you! See you soon.
I just read the "Storytime" about JD. Loved it! Now for one of my own. About a kitty, however, not a real kitty, but a "granddaughter" kitty. While at the hospital in North Caroline where my daughter was being cared for during her difficult pregnancy, my granddaugter and I were leaving one afternoon. Peyton was dressed as a kitty cat. We trudged all the way to the car with our "stuff" in hand. Once there, Peyton declared that she "needed to go." Oh my gosh! Peyton, I exclaimed. We just left the hospital! Couldn't you have gone to the bathroom while we were in the building? Now, we have to go ALL THE WAY BACK (for a grandmother, this can be a very exhausting trek.) Peyton looked up at me and said, "Bammie, when a cat's got to pee, a cat's got to pee!" I nearly fell over with laughter. So there you have it! When a grandmother has got to pee, a grandmother has got to pee! See you later!
Thanks, Bammie, you made me laugh! We love you and we are praying for you! See you soon.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
My boss is funny!
My boss said some funny things today! Oh, she's such a card! Maybe it was just the mind-numbing delirium of the three and a half hour meeting but when word comes from the top of one of the biggest companies in America that we are all just one big family and that we all need to work together as a team even though we will not be getting any "salary actions", I just have to crack up! I swear she should have been standing in front of a fake brick wall with a microphone saying, "I get no respect!" or "Take my wife, please!" but she instead said that instead of punishing the small group that is abusing their priviledges, we will punish the whole group because "We've always done it that way". Classic! It really is. I'm wishing more and more that I could meet another boss who maybe wasn't quite so funny. I'm not deserving of that kind of humor!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
**Cough, cough**Liar!**Cough, cough**
Oh, please! Powell endorses Obama but not because he's black. It's like saying you read Playboy for the articles.
Storytime
I grew up in a family full of preachers. My Dad is a preacher. I have several uncles that are preachers. Cousins, brothers-in-law, distant relatives. I can even prove that I have some kind of relative that was a preacher when he came over on the Mayflower. Does this make me more spritual or holy? No, it makes me have alot of experience hearing stories. Preachers tell lots of stories. They use stories in their preaching to illustrate points and they just seem to have alot of stories to tell even when they aren't preaching. So, I have heard alot of story-telling in my day and I can appreciate a good story when it's told. I also like to tell stories and I think a good story should be told even if it makes me look bad.
My father and uncles are some of the best storytellers in the world. I have never laughed so hard as when my Uncle Bill tells about being in the Army or in the oil field when he was a young man. He tells about being in Boot Camp and how you had to run everywhere and then wait in line for everything. He said they ran to the chow hall one day and then waited in this long line down the sidewalk to get in the chow hall. They came to a tree next to the sidewalk and there was a man in the tree shouting over and over "I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!! I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!!" He said he thought that was pretty funny until he came to the next tree along the sidewalk and there was a man in that tree also shouting. Uncle Bill said this young man was shouting, "I WILL NOT LAUGH AT THE MAN IN THE TREE SHOUTING I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!! I WILL NOT LAUGH AT THE MAN IN THE TREE SHOUTING I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!!" Now that's a funny story!
Because I like to tell stories and I think a good story needs to be told, I have decided to include a some-what regular feature to this blog that I will entitle simply "Storytime". It's my blog and I reserve the right to tell stories just for the sake of the fun of telling it. Previously, I have told certain tales and had some sort of moral to go along with it but when it comes to "Storytime" you may not get any kind of moral or real reason for telling it other than it being funny or interesting to me. I may remember something funny that happened to me or I may choose to use one I have heard in a sermon or it might be something a relative told. Again, a good story just needs to be told.
Allow me to start it off with a classic about my dog JD. If you never got a chance to meet JD, it's a shame. He was an Australian Shepherd and he was smart as a whip and went with me almost everywhere. He went to work with me every day when we worked at a feed store in Arlington. The little store had no air conditioning and we kept the doors and windows open all the time. JD was free to come and go as he pleased but he never went too far and was always right there when a customer came in and he loved to meet people. He was the "Will Rogers" of dogs in that he never met a man he didn't like!
Sometimes JD would go out back of the store and chase a squirrel or a bird but he always came right back. There was a time, though, when I noticed JD was gone and he stayed gone for longer than usual. I had also noticed that his appetite was not like it usually was. This lasted several days and then one day he didn't come back to the store and it was time to close. So, I put everything away and closed up the store and went looking for him. It wasn't like him to be gone this long and I was getting concerned. I got in the truck and drove all around the neighborhood. I saw a little boy on a bike and rolled my window down and asked him, "Have you seen a medium-sized grey and white dog around here"? He thought for a second and said, "You mean like the one down at Accent Tire"? I said, "Thank you". Now, I know the folks down at Accent Tire because we had done business together many times. Their store was about three blocks away from where we worked and I knew they didn't have any dog that matched that description. So, I drove down there and got out of the truck and looked in the window before I went in. Sure enough! There's JD.
As I walked in the door, the bell rang and it woke JD up out of a sound snooze. He was obviously enjoying the air conditioned comfort of the office at the tire store. He glanced at me as I walked in and then laid his head back down and then did a quick double-take as he realized he was busted. He walked over to me with a funny "I was just passing by" look on his face. I asked the secretary working there why they had my dog in their store. She said, "Oh, we just love JD! And he loves these jelly donuts". That's my boy.
My father and uncles are some of the best storytellers in the world. I have never laughed so hard as when my Uncle Bill tells about being in the Army or in the oil field when he was a young man. He tells about being in Boot Camp and how you had to run everywhere and then wait in line for everything. He said they ran to the chow hall one day and then waited in this long line down the sidewalk to get in the chow hall. They came to a tree next to the sidewalk and there was a man in the tree shouting over and over "I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!! I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!!" He said he thought that was pretty funny until he came to the next tree along the sidewalk and there was a man in that tree also shouting. Uncle Bill said this young man was shouting, "I WILL NOT LAUGH AT THE MAN IN THE TREE SHOUTING I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!! I WILL NOT LAUGH AT THE MAN IN THE TREE SHOUTING I WILL NOT CUT IN LINE!!" Now that's a funny story!
Because I like to tell stories and I think a good story needs to be told, I have decided to include a some-what regular feature to this blog that I will entitle simply "Storytime". It's my blog and I reserve the right to tell stories just for the sake of the fun of telling it. Previously, I have told certain tales and had some sort of moral to go along with it but when it comes to "Storytime" you may not get any kind of moral or real reason for telling it other than it being funny or interesting to me. I may remember something funny that happened to me or I may choose to use one I have heard in a sermon or it might be something a relative told. Again, a good story just needs to be told.
Allow me to start it off with a classic about my dog JD. If you never got a chance to meet JD, it's a shame. He was an Australian Shepherd and he was smart as a whip and went with me almost everywhere. He went to work with me every day when we worked at a feed store in Arlington. The little store had no air conditioning and we kept the doors and windows open all the time. JD was free to come and go as he pleased but he never went too far and was always right there when a customer came in and he loved to meet people. He was the "Will Rogers" of dogs in that he never met a man he didn't like!
Sometimes JD would go out back of the store and chase a squirrel or a bird but he always came right back. There was a time, though, when I noticed JD was gone and he stayed gone for longer than usual. I had also noticed that his appetite was not like it usually was. This lasted several days and then one day he didn't come back to the store and it was time to close. So, I put everything away and closed up the store and went looking for him. It wasn't like him to be gone this long and I was getting concerned. I got in the truck and drove all around the neighborhood. I saw a little boy on a bike and rolled my window down and asked him, "Have you seen a medium-sized grey and white dog around here"? He thought for a second and said, "You mean like the one down at Accent Tire"? I said, "Thank you". Now, I know the folks down at Accent Tire because we had done business together many times. Their store was about three blocks away from where we worked and I knew they didn't have any dog that matched that description. So, I drove down there and got out of the truck and looked in the window before I went in. Sure enough! There's JD.
As I walked in the door, the bell rang and it woke JD up out of a sound snooze. He was obviously enjoying the air conditioned comfort of the office at the tire store. He glanced at me as I walked in and then laid his head back down and then did a quick double-take as he realized he was busted. He walked over to me with a funny "I was just passing by" look on his face. I asked the secretary working there why they had my dog in their store. She said, "Oh, we just love JD! And he loves these jelly donuts". That's my boy.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Como se what?
Click...click...click
Not the sound you want your car to make when you are trying to start it. I have been in that situation more times than I care to remember so when I saw it was a woman who looked like she needed help at the gas station, I went over to ask if I could help.
"Do you have jumper cables?", I asked.
She just looked at me so I repeated the question a little louder and slower.
"DO..YOU...HAVE...JUMPER...CABLES?
She just looks at me and smiles sheepishly and sort of raises her shoulders.
"Do you want a big dog to bite you on the nose?", I said in a language she obviously didn't understand. Frustrated that I couldn't help, I walked off.
Three times this week I have been in businesses where the owner of the business could not speak any English. Look, I don't mind you people coming over here. In fact, I don't blame you at all. It's the greatest country in the world and will continue to be great as long as we can all communicate but without communication, how can anything survive? Marriages crumble, contracts are broken and businesses fail because of lack of communication.
It is more than just an aggravation. What if that woman was having a heart attack? What if her baby needed medicine? What if...a million things. I would like to help but I can't because we don't understand each other. Is it now going to be my responsibility to learn Spanish so I can be ready in case of emergency? It's bad enough that I have to press "1" to hear the options in English.
Living in this country comes with a few basic responsibilities. You need to register when you get here so we can make sure no bad guys come in and learn a little English so we can communicate when you get here. That's not so hard, now is it? Oh, and bring jumper cables!
Not the sound you want your car to make when you are trying to start it. I have been in that situation more times than I care to remember so when I saw it was a woman who looked like she needed help at the gas station, I went over to ask if I could help.
"Do you have jumper cables?", I asked.
She just looked at me so I repeated the question a little louder and slower.
"DO..YOU...HAVE...JUMPER...CABLES?
She just looks at me and smiles sheepishly and sort of raises her shoulders.
"Do you want a big dog to bite you on the nose?", I said in a language she obviously didn't understand. Frustrated that I couldn't help, I walked off.
Three times this week I have been in businesses where the owner of the business could not speak any English. Look, I don't mind you people coming over here. In fact, I don't blame you at all. It's the greatest country in the world and will continue to be great as long as we can all communicate but without communication, how can anything survive? Marriages crumble, contracts are broken and businesses fail because of lack of communication.
It is more than just an aggravation. What if that woman was having a heart attack? What if her baby needed medicine? What if...a million things. I would like to help but I can't because we don't understand each other. Is it now going to be my responsibility to learn Spanish so I can be ready in case of emergency? It's bad enough that I have to press "1" to hear the options in English.
Living in this country comes with a few basic responsibilities. You need to register when you get here so we can make sure no bad guys come in and learn a little English so we can communicate when you get here. That's not so hard, now is it? Oh, and bring jumper cables!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Unbelievable on several levels
So y'all have been totally no help to me whatsoever in imbedding videos so I will have to link to another one. I am almost speechless about this particular video. In fact, I am. I don't know what to say...The Howard Stern Show.
h/t: Ace
h/t: Ace
Friday, October 10, 2008
Buy me a Christmas gift or you don't love Jesus!
Well, thank goodness the new Neiman-Marcus Christmas catalog has come out so we can figure out what we want to do with our money! Hmmm, do I spend some time with the Harlem Globetrotters or maybe pony up a little extra for the stable of thoroughbreds? It can be a difficult decision this time of year. I work hard. I deserve $9000.00 cuff links and nothing says, "I've arrived" like $160,000 worth of BMW 7-series, you know what I mean, Lovie?
I had a pretty good time looking at that catalog but I also got another catalog in the mail. This catalog was from Samaritan's Purse. I've worked with Samaritan's Purse a few times and I'm on the mailing list. I also decided last year that I wanted something from their catalog and I insisted on getting it. I want something similar again this year.
The catalog has forty different ways you can make a difference in somebody's life this year. Check it out online or ask for the hard copy. I know. I know. I know. It seems like everybody from everywhere wants you to donate to their cause and especially this time of year around the holidays. I also know that there are lots of good causes and I'm sure that your money will be put to good use if you decided to give to the United Way or March of Dimes or wherever. Well, actually, I don't know that. Maybe it will, but I know that Samaritan's Purse will do some incredible things with whatever size gift you choose.
Where else can you buy some chickens or a goat for a hungry African family or spend four bucks to provide milk (my favorite!) to an orphan for a week? You can teach a kid to read and write for $15 and never leave your couch! How much do you think it would mean to send somebody in Angola a Bible? It'll only cost you fifteen dollars. One of the most expensive things cost $2200 and that was for heart surgery for a child. Hmmm, cuff links or three heart surgeries? I don't know...
OK, here's my dilemma: how do I say I want anybody who buys me a Christmas gift this year to buy it from the Samaritan's Purse catalog without sounding all "holier-than-thou"? Honestly, I don't know but I'm over it. You get over it. Yes, the title of this post was a bit much but it got your attention and you can get over that too! Anyway, that's what I want for Christmas. Pick something from their catalog and they will send me a card telling me what you bought and they will not only use that money to feed a baby or clothe an orphan but they will also make sure that those people hear about the life-changing good news of Jesus Christ!
While a titanium and carbon-fiber motorcycle would be pretty cool for a mere $110,000, you could also help rescue a child from bondage and abuse for $75.00. Am I trying to guilt you into using the Samaritan's Purse catalog over the Neiman's catalog? Maybe a little. Would I like to have an M-Velope transformable structure? Well... I guess. But seriously, where am I going to put that Dallas Cowboys stadium end zone turf and not look ridiculous?
I had a pretty good time looking at that catalog but I also got another catalog in the mail. This catalog was from Samaritan's Purse. I've worked with Samaritan's Purse a few times and I'm on the mailing list. I also decided last year that I wanted something from their catalog and I insisted on getting it. I want something similar again this year.
The catalog has forty different ways you can make a difference in somebody's life this year. Check it out online or ask for the hard copy. I know. I know. I know. It seems like everybody from everywhere wants you to donate to their cause and especially this time of year around the holidays. I also know that there are lots of good causes and I'm sure that your money will be put to good use if you decided to give to the United Way or March of Dimes or wherever. Well, actually, I don't know that. Maybe it will, but I know that Samaritan's Purse will do some incredible things with whatever size gift you choose.
Where else can you buy some chickens or a goat for a hungry African family or spend four bucks to provide milk (my favorite!) to an orphan for a week? You can teach a kid to read and write for $15 and never leave your couch! How much do you think it would mean to send somebody in Angola a Bible? It'll only cost you fifteen dollars. One of the most expensive things cost $2200 and that was for heart surgery for a child. Hmmm, cuff links or three heart surgeries? I don't know...
OK, here's my dilemma: how do I say I want anybody who buys me a Christmas gift this year to buy it from the Samaritan's Purse catalog without sounding all "holier-than-thou"? Honestly, I don't know but I'm over it. You get over it. Yes, the title of this post was a bit much but it got your attention and you can get over that too! Anyway, that's what I want for Christmas. Pick something from their catalog and they will send me a card telling me what you bought and they will not only use that money to feed a baby or clothe an orphan but they will also make sure that those people hear about the life-changing good news of Jesus Christ!
While a titanium and carbon-fiber motorcycle would be pretty cool for a mere $110,000, you could also help rescue a child from bondage and abuse for $75.00. Am I trying to guilt you into using the Samaritan's Purse catalog over the Neiman's catalog? Maybe a little. Would I like to have an M-Velope transformable structure? Well... I guess. But seriously, where am I going to put that Dallas Cowboys stadium end zone turf and not look ridiculous?
Coupla things
1. Somebody needs to tell me how to imbed videos in here. Until I figure it out, I will have to keep linking to them.
2. I don't know who this guy is but I couldn't quit watching him. He must be from Texas because he say's "y'all" alot.
h/t: Jay Nordlinger
2. I don't know who this guy is but I couldn't quit watching him. He must be from Texas because he say's "y'all" alot.
h/t: Jay Nordlinger
Thursday, October 09, 2008
There is some good news.
I regurlarly read the Drudge Report. I regularly watch the news and listen to talk radio. And just when I am ready to gouge out my eyes and ram a scredriver through my eardrums, I read the end of the Book one more time.
Behold, I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to render to each man according as his work is. Revelation 22:12
Even so, Come Lord Jesus! I have to admit. It's a selfish thought. What about my neighbors who don't know Jesus? Lord, don't come just yet! Gimme a couple more days to tell Mrs. Daniel and the new folks who just moved in next door. What about my old friend Dorothy? God, where does she stand with you?
I'm so tired of this place. I have it pretty good and I'm sick of this ol' life. Constantly bad news on top of worse news. I struggle every day with sin and greed and disappointment and worry.
"Yes. I am coming soon." Revelation 22:20
Friday, October 03, 2008
Assault with a Deadly Ingredient
*static* "Uh, 10-4, base, this is Unit 119, come again".
"Deadly weapon of WHAT sort"?
"I'm sorry, base, repeat. It sounded like you said peanut butter".
*static* "10-4, base, Unit 119 responding to the call".
Three minutes later...
"Unit 119 urgently requesting backup!! Officer Down, Officer Down!! One officer fully engaged with jelly and another bringing the bread! Get that milk down here quick"!
Thursday, October 02, 2008
That's pretty drunk!
Let me set the scene for you. It's Tuesday night in Florida and that means it's Ladies Night down at the DewDropInn. Anybody that's anybody shows up on Tuesday night. They're shooting pool and darts and sometimes each other but rarely do they shoot themselves. John has brought his best girl Sylvia to the Inn tonight and he's having a good time. Sure, Johnny has had a few to drink but it's ok. Sylvia will drive home. He doesn't want the night to end. He's already planning on calling in sick tomorrow and he probably will be sick the way he's drinking.
Back at the house...
"Woooo, Sylbia...you looking good tonight and ...(something you couldn't understand nor could I repeat here) ....like I like...(unintelligible)...one more beer...(blah, blah)...off dat dress". He ends the serenade with another, "WOOWOO" and blacks out for a second but comes back to and makes his best move. She pushes him down and walks to the spare bedroom.
"That's...last straw", says Johnny, "Shes nussin widout me!" He reaches in the nightstand next to him and pulls out the .22 revolver "his cousin gave him" and puts it to his head. He'll show her! He hears the gun go "bang" so loud it gives him a headache but all it did was knock over the lamp. "What the...?" Sights must be off. He debates: in the mouth, in the temple, hold it gangsta style...Bang!! "Dangitt!", says Johnny.
Out of bullets, Johnny stumbles to the spare room with his arm bleeding and says something about shooting Sylvia while looking at his arm, wondering how that happened. "I don't have to live this way", he says with a headache, his arm bleeding and his stomach getting queasy. "Soon as I make myself a sandwi...OWW!" as he bumped into the doorframe of the kitchen. Sylvia looks up from her pillow. "Next commercial, I'll call 911".
Back at the house...
"Woooo, Sylbia...you looking good tonight and ...(something you couldn't understand nor could I repeat here) ....like I like...(unintelligible)...one more beer...(blah, blah)...off dat dress". He ends the serenade with another, "WOOWOO" and blacks out for a second but comes back to and makes his best move. She pushes him down and walks to the spare bedroom.
"That's...last straw", says Johnny, "Shes nussin widout me!" He reaches in the nightstand next to him and pulls out the .22 revolver "his cousin gave him" and puts it to his head. He'll show her! He hears the gun go "bang" so loud it gives him a headache but all it did was knock over the lamp. "What the...?" Sights must be off. He debates: in the mouth, in the temple, hold it gangsta style...Bang!! "Dangitt!", says Johnny.
Out of bullets, Johnny stumbles to the spare room with his arm bleeding and says something about shooting Sylvia while looking at his arm, wondering how that happened. "I don't have to live this way", he says with a headache, his arm bleeding and his stomach getting queasy. "Soon as I make myself a sandwi...OWW!" as he bumped into the doorframe of the kitchen. Sylvia looks up from her pillow. "Next commercial, I'll call 911".
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Is this even still a crime in LA?
I nearly did the same thing at the walmarts the other day. Kids these days...(say in Grampa Simpson voice)...why, back in my day they let me cut in line...and they liked it! I remember one time I was standing in line with an onion on my belt, cuz it was the style at the time, when...what was I saying? Oh, well.
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