A smokey-lens camera slowly follows me down the mansion's interior spiral staircase. With pouty lips and shiny head, I make my way past the marble statues and under the chandelier towards the kitchen and the camera catches my good side as I seductively wink at the two hungry Italian supermodels. They caress my neck and shoulders as I walk right past them with a smirk and reach out my hands. Fade to black as I lustily eat the Burger King Whopper and dab the juice of the meat patty behind my ears.
"Flame", says the breathy feminine voice. "The scent of seduction with a hint of flame-broiled meat."
Thursday, December 18, 2008
So what?
It is interesting to me to hear the widespread lamentation of the commercialism of Christmas that comes around every year about this time. As a big Jesus fan, my first reaction is to join the complainer's chorus about how we have lost the reason for the season and to even let that fact make Christmas less special for me. I could easily get discouraged about the number of Santa likenesses that sit where nativities used to and how our school kids are taught to be tolerant of everything except the possibility that Jesus was born of a virgin. I forget sometimes that this is to be expected from a non-Christian world and so after considerable deliberation of this issue I have come to this conclusion about people celebrating Christmas for the wrong reasons: so what?
That's right! What does it really matter? It is a Biblical response, actually. In Philippians 1:15-19 Paul talks about that in his time there were some that were preaching about Jesus for the wrong reasons. Some of them were preaching as a contest to see who could do it best. Others just wanted to make Paul look bad or to stir up trouble for him. Read paul's response in verse 18.
But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.
Paul had an attitude we should emulate. He had every reason to be upset about things but he considered it just another way to reach the world for Christ. We should look at the commercialization of Christmas the same way. Is it the ideal situation when people celebrate Santa instead of Jesus? Of course not, but do you know what? So what? They are celebrating the birth of Jesus whether they want to admit it or not. Maybe if our attitudes are a little more like Paul's then people will see Jesus in us and that is a reason to celebrate in itself.
That's right! What does it really matter? It is a Biblical response, actually. In Philippians 1:15-19 Paul talks about that in his time there were some that were preaching about Jesus for the wrong reasons. Some of them were preaching as a contest to see who could do it best. Others just wanted to make Paul look bad or to stir up trouble for him. Read paul's response in verse 18.
But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice.
Paul had an attitude we should emulate. He had every reason to be upset about things but he considered it just another way to reach the world for Christ. We should look at the commercialization of Christmas the same way. Is it the ideal situation when people celebrate Santa instead of Jesus? Of course not, but do you know what? So what? They are celebrating the birth of Jesus whether they want to admit it or not. Maybe if our attitudes are a little more like Paul's then people will see Jesus in us and that is a reason to celebrate in itself.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
I'm gonna gouge my eyeballs out.
I promise I'm not going to rant about TV commercials again. It doesn't do any good and just raises my blood pressure. So, no more long diatribes about the rancid evil and downfall of humanity that is TV commercials. Except one. I don't get it. I just really don't understand how it is that Geico advertising executives could still possibly have their lives, much less their jobs.
Let's see...first it was the cavemen. You would have to be on crack to think those guys were anything but irritating and then, to my horror, they made the commercial into a sitcom. Luckily for the universe, that was short-lived.
Then the brain-dead wasters of oxygen came up with the gecko that makes me want to stomp on anything resembling a lizard and they keep on using it! In fact they still use the cavemen, the lizard and those stupid celebrity endorcements from old what's-her-name Collins and even Little Richard. Little Richard?! Why would I buy insurance from people like that?
So, when I saw that they had a new commercial out starring a stack of money with eyeballs, I thought that was the ultimate insult to my limited intelligence but then...but then...wait for it, wait for it...but then...I found this article online about what a genius the marketing manager is that came up with all that drivel! I can't stand it anymore! I went from muting the TV when the commercials came on to turning the channel and now I have no choice but to gouge out my eyeballs so I don't ever have to see anything about Geico ever again.
Let's see...first it was the cavemen. You would have to be on crack to think those guys were anything but irritating and then, to my horror, they made the commercial into a sitcom. Luckily for the universe, that was short-lived.
Then the brain-dead wasters of oxygen came up with the gecko that makes me want to stomp on anything resembling a lizard and they keep on using it! In fact they still use the cavemen, the lizard and those stupid celebrity endorcements from old what's-her-name Collins and even Little Richard. Little Richard?! Why would I buy insurance from people like that?
So, when I saw that they had a new commercial out starring a stack of money with eyeballs, I thought that was the ultimate insult to my limited intelligence but then...but then...wait for it, wait for it...but then...I found this article online about what a genius the marketing manager is that came up with all that drivel! I can't stand it anymore! I went from muting the TV when the commercials came on to turning the channel and now I have no choice but to gouge out my eyeballs so I don't ever have to see anything about Geico ever again.
Ambien antics
I woke up this morning to find this picture saved as my screensaver. I have no idea why except that after I took my Ambien I guess I thought it would be funny. Now I'm playing jokes on myself!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Seven years of bliss
Seven years. Ah, seems like just yesterday! I was twenty pounds lighter back then and she still had that new wife smell. So in love. I married way up. I'm still not sure what she sees in me. Evidently short, fat and bald is the new tall, dark and handsome. I'm pretty sure she didn't marry me just for my money.
But I did spend some money on her recently. In anticipation of today, I went to one of her favorite stores. It's either Bed, Bath and Beyond or Bath and Bodyworks. I never can remember which one is which but I chose the wrong one once and she's never let me forget it because evidently they sell way different stuff. So this year I did my homework and went to the right store. I know it's the right one because it reeked of candles and estrogen. You know what I mean. I felt like I had interloped into "Share your feelings" land where men are dreamily forgotten and women rule the kingdom with velvet potpourri-scented fists. I hate the place.
I was actually very intimidated by the place and maybe a little scared. I was scared because I don't know what all that stuff is in there. It's wall-to-wall lotions and potions and cremes and scented things that I didn't know were supposed to be scented. To be honest, I am afraid I'm going to unknowingly pick up something that is, you know, some sort of feminine only kind of product that women only talk about in yoga class and hospitals. It would be my luck for some woman to see me pick up the extra-large bottle of Vagisweet or Vagiseal or whatever, and ask me if I needed help. "Does this come in a candle?", I would ask like an idiot. Then I'd get embarrassed and say it was for my aunt or something and then I would have to wet my pants just so she would quit talking to me and I could leave. Let's just say I have some pretty unattractive scenarios played out in my head at the Bed and Bathworks place.
Actually, I went into the store and just stood there in the middle of the place until some nice lady who I presumed worked there came up and asked me if I needed help. I handed her my wallet and said "Yes, please." and she gave me several wicker baskets full of soft and lotiony stuff that screams "My husband is a sucker!" and then I thanked her and left. Well, what am I supposed to do? "Excuse me Ma'am, I was wondering if you had a large bottle of Burlap Berry-scented Vagiclean with matching candle and slippers?" Please! I'll have nightmares about that until I have to do it again next year.
But I did spend some money on her recently. In anticipation of today, I went to one of her favorite stores. It's either Bed, Bath and Beyond or Bath and Bodyworks. I never can remember which one is which but I chose the wrong one once and she's never let me forget it because evidently they sell way different stuff. So this year I did my homework and went to the right store. I know it's the right one because it reeked of candles and estrogen. You know what I mean. I felt like I had interloped into "Share your feelings" land where men are dreamily forgotten and women rule the kingdom with velvet potpourri-scented fists. I hate the place.
I was actually very intimidated by the place and maybe a little scared. I was scared because I don't know what all that stuff is in there. It's wall-to-wall lotions and potions and cremes and scented things that I didn't know were supposed to be scented. To be honest, I am afraid I'm going to unknowingly pick up something that is, you know, some sort of feminine only kind of product that women only talk about in yoga class and hospitals. It would be my luck for some woman to see me pick up the extra-large bottle of Vagisweet or Vagiseal or whatever, and ask me if I needed help. "Does this come in a candle?", I would ask like an idiot. Then I'd get embarrassed and say it was for my aunt or something and then I would have to wet my pants just so she would quit talking to me and I could leave. Let's just say I have some pretty unattractive scenarios played out in my head at the Bed and Bathworks place.
Actually, I went into the store and just stood there in the middle of the place until some nice lady who I presumed worked there came up and asked me if I needed help. I handed her my wallet and said "Yes, please." and she gave me several wicker baskets full of soft and lotiony stuff that screams "My husband is a sucker!" and then I thanked her and left. Well, what am I supposed to do? "Excuse me Ma'am, I was wondering if you had a large bottle of Burlap Berry-scented Vagiclean with matching candle and slippers?" Please! I'll have nightmares about that until I have to do it again next year.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
'67 Mustang Fastback
I owned this car from 1986 to 1997 (give or take) and I treated it like a princess. I bought only the best parts for it. I changed the oil about every 30 minutes. It had a custom cover and was only driven on sunny days on clean roads. I bought premium gas and took my shoes off when I got in. I drove it so gently that I never had to buy tires for it the whole time and it hated my guts.
I never hot-rodded it or mistreated it even one time and it broke down on me EVERY SINGLE TIME I drove it! I don't mean it broke down a few times or that I often had some trouble with it. I mean it quit running for some reason every time I drove it, no exaggeration. It went through a spell of dying - completely stopped running - every time I turned right. I had to take jumper cables, every tool I owned and an ASC certified mechanic with me everywhere I went. It started overheating on me so I replaced the fan, waterpump, radiator, guage and eventually the whole engine and it STILL got hot.
I finally sold it to a dealer and because it looked so good I got a good price for it. He paid me the money and I gave him the title and he asked me to drive it over to a certain spot where he wanted it. As I pulled it over there the power steering pump blew out spewing fluid all over the parking lot. Finally able to smile about it, I said, "Uh oh, your car just broke down!" Best day I'd had in a decade!
Friday, November 28, 2008
Hope this makes up for the Rosie pic
I don't blame you for complaining about having to look at that hideous picture of Rosie so I added this one. Now that's sexy! I don't know why I want an AR-15 so bad but I do. Maybe it's because Obama doesn't want me to have one. I can't afford it nor could I really justify one especially like the one pictured. But that grenade launcher would be alot of fun! Hey, I have an idea...a few well-placed grenades...Rosie...OFF THE AIR! Bless her heart.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Something to be thankful for
This Thanksgiving, if nothing else, you can always be thankful that Rosie bombed on her new TV special last night so hopefully we won't have to see her obese face on the screen much more. I didn't see the show as I would rather be scissor-kicked in the adam's apple than have to endure that but critics were not kind. When will Rosie realize that she has no talent and did she really think a variety show would work for her? Has a variety show ever worked for anybody? The answer is no! Oh, I know Dolly Parton did so well with it as did Donny and Marie but even they were at least interesting to look at. Why did a fat, bitter, untalented, unfunny, fat, lesbian wanna-be has-been think she could pull it off? Let's hope she stays gone from our airwaves forever. Bless her heart.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Allah must be proud!
"Achmed?"
"Yes, Abdul?"
"Hey, uh, this isn't really how I thought Heaven would be, you know?"
"I know. It's even hotter than Baghdad! And where are all those virgins?"
"I dunno, but, Allah be praised, we are successful martyrs after that ambush."
"Uh, hey, Abdul, I'm not sure it counts as martyrdom if an American Marine shoots you in a firefight."
"Oh...dang."
"Yes, Abdul?"
"Hey, uh, this isn't really how I thought Heaven would be, you know?"
"I know. It's even hotter than Baghdad! And where are all those virgins?"
"I dunno, but, Allah be praised, we are successful martyrs after that ambush."
"Uh, hey, Abdul, I'm not sure it counts as martyrdom if an American Marine shoots you in a firefight."
"Oh...dang."
Old enough
My wife and I were sitting at a nice restaurant a few nights ago when an older man came in with his family. They were all wearing nice clothes but the old man was wearing a hat. Not a cool, Tom Landry-style fedora or a suave Humphry Bogart-style reporter's hat but he was sporting a light blue fishing hat. I was fascinated! How is it that old men get to wear whatever in the world they want to? Nice slacks, starched shirt and his favorite lucky fishing hat! Then it dawned on me. I am, or at least I feel, old enough that I can start wearing goofy stuff.
So, I asked my wife, "Honey, what do you think I ought to start wearing first? The hat, suspenders and a belt or black socks with short pants?" Because nothing says, "I'm too old to care about impressing anybody" like those! Surprisingly, she didn't answer me. I think something on the ceiling must have distracted her about that time because she rolled her eyes upward although I didn't see anything up there. Anyhow, what do I care about what she thinks? I'm an old man and that's one of the perks of growing old. In fact, even as I sit here writing this I just noticed that I'm wearing sweat pants with brown dress socks, a Tommy Hilfiger dress shirt and slippers. Ah, life's good growing old! Now where's my hat?
Monday, November 24, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Storytime
A "Storytime" submission from an unnamed reader:
To appreciate this story you must first understand that I really like mustard. I like hot dogs or hamburgers with mustard, and deli sandwiches with dark stone-ground mustard, horseradish mustard, or Dijon mustard, the spicier the better.
Several years ago I was at a Church pool picnic with my wife and baby son. I held the baby on my left arm while I made a ham sandwich with lots of dark mustard. Then I conversed with some friends as I ate the sandwich. Half way through, I noticed that some of the mustard had dripped out of the sandwich onto my arm, and was dangerously close to getting onto the baby’s clothes. I didn’t have a napkin handy, or a free hand to use it, so I simply licked the mustard off my arm.
It was not mustard.
I had the presence of mind to hold on to the baby, but the sandwich was not so fortunate. It hit the dirt, and I quickly passed the baby to an unsuspecting bystander. I grabbed the closest glass of lemonade I could find, gulped some into my mouth, and spewed it into the grass. Then I grabbed my towel and did the shoe-shine buff on my tongue.
I made another sandwich and put mayonnaise on it.
Now that's a funny story! Classic! Just classic!
To appreciate this story you must first understand that I really like mustard. I like hot dogs or hamburgers with mustard, and deli sandwiches with dark stone-ground mustard, horseradish mustard, or Dijon mustard, the spicier the better.
Several years ago I was at a Church pool picnic with my wife and baby son. I held the baby on my left arm while I made a ham sandwich with lots of dark mustard. Then I conversed with some friends as I ate the sandwich. Half way through, I noticed that some of the mustard had dripped out of the sandwich onto my arm, and was dangerously close to getting onto the baby’s clothes. I didn’t have a napkin handy, or a free hand to use it, so I simply licked the mustard off my arm.
It was not mustard.
I had the presence of mind to hold on to the baby, but the sandwich was not so fortunate. It hit the dirt, and I quickly passed the baby to an unsuspecting bystander. I grabbed the closest glass of lemonade I could find, gulped some into my mouth, and spewed it into the grass. Then I grabbed my towel and did the shoe-shine buff on my tongue.
I made another sandwich and put mayonnaise on it.
Now that's a funny story! Classic! Just classic!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Gun talk
I went to the gun show yesterday with a few thousand of my closest friends and the main topic of conversation amongst us was "buy 'em now before Obama takes 'em away"! I thought it was a bit extreme and a bit early to be so worried and made no further purchases besides some ammo that I needed. Now I read this and I can't wait until the next show. I just have to decide which one (or two) I want.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Olan Mills
"Hey, Neal, you wear the rainbow shirt", says Bob, "and I'll wear the one that has the 'Neal is my BFF' crest on it".
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