Monday, December 29, 2008
Learn to spell what you hate!
Death to the Juice! Death to the Juice! Death to...what? Misspelled? Dangit!
What my dad said just before he kicked me out...
"When he came down from the attic, he was wearing my daughter's pants and my sweat shirt and sneakers. From what I gather, he was helping himself to my home, eating my food and stealing my clothes."
She birthed a bowling ball
Now I don't know nothing about birthing no babies but I know that 14 pounds is way too heavy for a newborn. I don't really think it was necessary for two doctors to have to pull it out, though. I mean what kind of scrawny doc has to call for backup just because the baby is huge? We're not talking about setting a bench press record.
"Hey, nurse, can you spot me here?", says Dr. Droopengelding as he puts on his weight belt and stretches out his quads.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Santa had more fun than anybody
I couldn't get my scanner to work so I had to take a picture of this picture so forgive the quality but I just had to show this. A couple of weeks ago I got to be Santa for a group from the Department of Assistive and Rehabilitative Services. Most of the children were "special needs" kids and I just had a ball! It was quite an honor for me to be a part of this. If you know me, you know I have a bit of a Texas accent and so instead of trying to fake it all day, I just went as Texas Santa and wore my hat and boots. This precious angel looks better in my hat than I ever will.Thursday, December 25, 2008
Storytime from a shepherd
Have you ever had a crazy dream? A dream that seems so real but too crazy to have really happened? I want to tell you about a night I thought I must surely be dreaming, but it really happened.
My name is Bill. Bill the shepherd. I’m one of the shepherds mentioned in the second chapter of the book of Luke, verses eight through twenty. My name is not in the Bible and I’m not terribly important in the scheme of things and yet I had something wonderful happen to me many years ago. Allow me to tell that story in my own words.
Being a shepherd is hardly glamorous work. It is long hours and low pay and we are generally looked down upon by most people. I do not have much education nor much money and most of the time I smell like a sheep. One can see that with all of that going for me that I do not have many close friends.
There have been a few of us shepherds to go on to bigger and better things with our lives. King David is probably the most notable example. But most shepherds live and die in poverty and obscurity and to be honest that was fine with me. I never expected anything of note to ever happen in my life. I had gone to work when I was very young to support my mother when my father died and shepherding was the only thing I could do.
They were not even my own sheep. A man hired me to take care of his sheep but I took my job very seriously. During the day we would let the sheep graze on open land but at night we would round them up and put them in a makeshift corral and we would guard them there.
Nighttime was when thieves and wolves would come out so we would sit in the doorway of the corral and protect the sheep with our bodies. The secret was to have another shepherd there with you at night to talk to you. Not only did it keep you from getting bored and falling asleep but the noise kept away the thieves and wolves.
The other shepherds and I would talk about anything and everything during the night as one can imagine. Some of the other guys liked to talk about God and religion But I was not much into that. I had a hard time believing that there was more to this life than eating, sleeping and sheep.
The ironic thing about this one special night was that some of the other guys and I had just been discussing some of the prophecy in scripture about the coming of the Christ. They had been sharing with me that several prophets had predicted Christ’s birth. Moses, Micah and Isaiah had all predicted the coming of the Christ and that could be something I could get excited about if only I could really believe it.
They told me about the passage in Isaiah chapter seven that says, Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Also, Isaiah chapter nine says, A child will be born to us. A son will be given to us. He will rule over us. And he will be called Wonderful Adviser and Mighty God. He will also be called Father Who Lives Forever and Prince Who Brings Peace. The authority of his rule will continue to grow. The peace he brings will never end. He will rule on David's throne and over his kingdom. He will make the kingdom strong and secure. His rule will be based on what is fair and right. It will last forever. The Lord's great love will make sure that happens. He rules over all.
That passage says that Christ will reign on David’s throne! I like that. I can relate somewhat to David because he was a shepherd - a lowly shepherd. Then in the fifth chapter of Micah it says that the baby will be born in Bethlehem. That is where I am from. That is my hometown! I started to feel some hope where previously there had been just despair.
We were, in fact, camped just outside of Bethlehem that night. I will never forget it. It was a beautiful, quiet, starry night. Some of the others were talking and I heard a noise. It started out like a low hum and gradually built up to a sound like a huge herd of horses were stampeding across the hills.
My first concern was for the sheep and so I stood up and listened and waited. On a typical night the most exciting thing to happen might be a shooting star so one can imagine how shocked I was when a bright light flashed and an angel was right in front of me.
I thought it must surely mean I was about to die! My heart was pounding, my knees almost failed to hold me up. I thought I should avert my eyes but I could not quit staring at this incredible creature.
The first thing out of his mouth was, “Do not be afraid!” Easy for him to say! One minute I am counting stars and the next minute I am face to face with Gabriel himself. And yet, while he was an intimidating and exciting creature, huge, powerful and stunning, he was at the same time strangely calming. He was like a good military commander who knows what is going on and knows what to do. I felt immediately like I could trust him.
He said, “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people”. He could have stopped right there. He could have said no more and I would have been thrilled! “For all the people” included me! Nobody had ever included me and here I am being included to an invitation by no less than an angel of the Lord!
The angel continued, “Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
Before I could catch my breath, and to my continued amazement, more and more angels appeared. Millions and millions of angels dressed all in white and with a glow like the sun spread from one horizon to the other and they began singing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.” They were the brightest, loudest most perfect celestial choir and I was the audience.
Over and over again they sang “Glory to God in the highest!” Gloria in excelsis deo! “Glory to God, Glory to God!” I cried. I laughed. I sang with them! I worshipped. I hoped it would never end.
It felt like a dream but it was real. When the angels left I could not wait to accept Gabriel’s invitation to find the baby so we all left the sheep and ran into Bethlehem. I think I expected it to be easier to find the baby. After the unplanned angelic choir program I expected there to be long lines of people crowding to see a baby king laying in purple robes with bright lights and flying angels but there was none of that.
When we finally found the baby he was just…a baby. His parents were pleasant but looked a bit overwhelmed like every parent feels the first day and when we told them everything that had happened to us I was afraid they might not believe it. Joseph thanked us and Mary smiled with a mix of pride and gratefulness.
There is another passage in Isaiah chapter 61 that says, The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners. to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn.
I feel like that passage might have been written about me. I could not keep from telling other people about what I had seen and heard that day. I wanted everyone to know about the Christ. I did not know much about this baby Jesus but I knew that he was the savior and I needed a savior. I needed the Prince of peace in my life.
The time in which I lived was undergoing what they called the ”pax Romana” or Roman peace which was a good thing in that we were not involved in any war at the time but I had no peace in my own heart. In the quiet times in the field with my sheep I often felt like there must be more to this life! The starry nights and snow-covered mountains fairly screamed of a divine creator but I had no joy and no peace in my heart until I met Jesus.
One more passage from the book of Isaiah chapter forty: He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.
Being a shepherd has it’s rewards sometimes. Sheep often stray off and are easily in danger of wild animals or malicious people but when I find them safe and bring them back to the herd I know it is for their good. It lets me relate to other shepherds like David but I now realize I have a greater connection with the Good Shepherd since that special night in Bethlehem all those years ago.
I will never know why God chose to reveal himself to me the way He did or why He wants me to have a relationship with Him like He does but I know now that I have that peace and joy that He promises as well as life forever with Him in Heaven and I will continue to celebrate that as the true meaning of Christmas and the meaning of my life everyday.
My name is Bill. Bill the shepherd. I’m one of the shepherds mentioned in the second chapter of the book of Luke, verses eight through twenty. My name is not in the Bible and I’m not terribly important in the scheme of things and yet I had something wonderful happen to me many years ago. Allow me to tell that story in my own words.
Being a shepherd is hardly glamorous work. It is long hours and low pay and we are generally looked down upon by most people. I do not have much education nor much money and most of the time I smell like a sheep. One can see that with all of that going for me that I do not have many close friends.
There have been a few of us shepherds to go on to bigger and better things with our lives. King David is probably the most notable example. But most shepherds live and die in poverty and obscurity and to be honest that was fine with me. I never expected anything of note to ever happen in my life. I had gone to work when I was very young to support my mother when my father died and shepherding was the only thing I could do.
They were not even my own sheep. A man hired me to take care of his sheep but I took my job very seriously. During the day we would let the sheep graze on open land but at night we would round them up and put them in a makeshift corral and we would guard them there.
Nighttime was when thieves and wolves would come out so we would sit in the doorway of the corral and protect the sheep with our bodies. The secret was to have another shepherd there with you at night to talk to you. Not only did it keep you from getting bored and falling asleep but the noise kept away the thieves and wolves.
The other shepherds and I would talk about anything and everything during the night as one can imagine. Some of the other guys liked to talk about God and religion But I was not much into that. I had a hard time believing that there was more to this life than eating, sleeping and sheep.
The ironic thing about this one special night was that some of the other guys and I had just been discussing some of the prophecy in scripture about the coming of the Christ. They had been sharing with me that several prophets had predicted Christ’s birth. Moses, Micah and Isaiah had all predicted the coming of the Christ and that could be something I could get excited about if only I could really believe it.
They told me about the passage in Isaiah chapter seven that says, Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Also, Isaiah chapter nine says, A child will be born to us. A son will be given to us. He will rule over us. And he will be called Wonderful Adviser and Mighty God. He will also be called Father Who Lives Forever and Prince Who Brings Peace. The authority of his rule will continue to grow. The peace he brings will never end. He will rule on David's throne and over his kingdom. He will make the kingdom strong and secure. His rule will be based on what is fair and right. It will last forever. The Lord's great love will make sure that happens. He rules over all.
That passage says that Christ will reign on David’s throne! I like that. I can relate somewhat to David because he was a shepherd - a lowly shepherd. Then in the fifth chapter of Micah it says that the baby will be born in Bethlehem. That is where I am from. That is my hometown! I started to feel some hope where previously there had been just despair.
We were, in fact, camped just outside of Bethlehem that night. I will never forget it. It was a beautiful, quiet, starry night. Some of the others were talking and I heard a noise. It started out like a low hum and gradually built up to a sound like a huge herd of horses were stampeding across the hills.
My first concern was for the sheep and so I stood up and listened and waited. On a typical night the most exciting thing to happen might be a shooting star so one can imagine how shocked I was when a bright light flashed and an angel was right in front of me.
I thought it must surely mean I was about to die! My heart was pounding, my knees almost failed to hold me up. I thought I should avert my eyes but I could not quit staring at this incredible creature.
The first thing out of his mouth was, “Do not be afraid!” Easy for him to say! One minute I am counting stars and the next minute I am face to face with Gabriel himself. And yet, while he was an intimidating and exciting creature, huge, powerful and stunning, he was at the same time strangely calming. He was like a good military commander who knows what is going on and knows what to do. I felt immediately like I could trust him.
He said, “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people”. He could have stopped right there. He could have said no more and I would have been thrilled! “For all the people” included me! Nobody had ever included me and here I am being included to an invitation by no less than an angel of the Lord!
The angel continued, “Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
Before I could catch my breath, and to my continued amazement, more and more angels appeared. Millions and millions of angels dressed all in white and with a glow like the sun spread from one horizon to the other and they began singing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom His favor rests.” They were the brightest, loudest most perfect celestial choir and I was the audience.
Over and over again they sang “Glory to God in the highest!” Gloria in excelsis deo! “Glory to God, Glory to God!” I cried. I laughed. I sang with them! I worshipped. I hoped it would never end.
It felt like a dream but it was real. When the angels left I could not wait to accept Gabriel’s invitation to find the baby so we all left the sheep and ran into Bethlehem. I think I expected it to be easier to find the baby. After the unplanned angelic choir program I expected there to be long lines of people crowding to see a baby king laying in purple robes with bright lights and flying angels but there was none of that.
When we finally found the baby he was just…a baby. His parents were pleasant but looked a bit overwhelmed like every parent feels the first day and when we told them everything that had happened to us I was afraid they might not believe it. Joseph thanked us and Mary smiled with a mix of pride and gratefulness.
There is another passage in Isaiah chapter 61 that says, The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners. to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn.
I feel like that passage might have been written about me. I could not keep from telling other people about what I had seen and heard that day. I wanted everyone to know about the Christ. I did not know much about this baby Jesus but I knew that he was the savior and I needed a savior. I needed the Prince of peace in my life.
The time in which I lived was undergoing what they called the ”pax Romana” or Roman peace which was a good thing in that we were not involved in any war at the time but I had no peace in my own heart. In the quiet times in the field with my sheep I often felt like there must be more to this life! The starry nights and snow-covered mountains fairly screamed of a divine creator but I had no joy and no peace in my heart until I met Jesus.
One more passage from the book of Isaiah chapter forty: He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.
Being a shepherd has it’s rewards sometimes. Sheep often stray off and are easily in danger of wild animals or malicious people but when I find them safe and bring them back to the herd I know it is for their good. It lets me relate to other shepherds like David but I now realize I have a greater connection with the Good Shepherd since that special night in Bethlehem all those years ago.
I will never know why God chose to reveal himself to me the way He did or why He wants me to have a relationship with Him like He does but I know now that I have that peace and joy that He promises as well as life forever with Him in Heaven and I will continue to celebrate that as the true meaning of Christmas and the meaning of my life everyday.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
My new ride
I know times are tough but don't make me get in my new tax-collection vehicle and come over there!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I can see it now...
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."
"Flame", says the breathy feminine voice. "The scent of seduction with a hint of flame-broiled meat."
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".
He's obviously compensating for something.
Russian President Dmitry Medvedev had to admit that the camo paint was a bit unnecessary.And I thought my church was exciting!
You wanna know how I know they're gay? They have a Myspace page.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Storytime
--You just have to know how to handle it.--
My request was eagerly granted and my friend handed me the key. I went around to the left side and threw my leg over. Without me realizing it my heart pounded a little faster. My breathing quickened and sweat appeared on my un-helmited head. Smiling, I turned the key and the engine growled to life louder than I expected. I blipped the throttle a couple of times and tried to act cool but this was a strange feeling. I was almost parallel to the ground and it felt like all my weight was on my hands and wrists but there was no backing down now.
I gave it a respectable amount of gas and my head jerked back coming out of the driveway. As fast as I could shift I rocketed through the gears and down the street and jammed on the brakes just in time to keep from blowing through the intersection a couple of hundred yards from my house. I have no idea how fast I had gone. My mind barely had time to process that I had done it but I had somehow blown well past highway speeds and back to zero in just seconds. I put the bike in neutral at the stop sign and sat there. My brain is on fire. I'm laughing like a mad scientist and realize it but I can't stop. I want more! I'm a junkie with the need for speed and I have the needle pressed up against my arm and I'm about to hit the throttle and inject the adrenaline but my age and wisdom are telling me to stop. This is crazy! This thing should come with a matching casket and I know it but the need inside screams for more. It'll be ok! I want this. I need this! I deserve this! Just a little more...
Mark it down and tell my Mama that I did the right thing for once. Sweating but smiling, I eased the beast around the block very slowly and carefully and nosed it into my driveway. It was six hundred cc's of carbon fiber-wrapped crack without lights, mirrors, warning labels or anything else that would do anything but make it go fast and I grudgingly gave it back to the eighteen year old owner. I felt old for not airing it out and indulging my craving but at least I was still alive. I felt older when I heard myself say something about "too fast" to the rocket's owner. He said, "You just have to know how to handle it" and then commenced to show me what that meant.
Sixty seconds later when I was helping my young friend out of my neighbor's demolished bushes, my age and wisdom were not enough from keeping me from asking him about that statement.
My request was eagerly granted and my friend handed me the key. I went around to the left side and threw my leg over. Without me realizing it my heart pounded a little faster. My breathing quickened and sweat appeared on my un-helmited head. Smiling, I turned the key and the engine growled to life louder than I expected. I blipped the throttle a couple of times and tried to act cool but this was a strange feeling. I was almost parallel to the ground and it felt like all my weight was on my hands and wrists but there was no backing down now.
I gave it a respectable amount of gas and my head jerked back coming out of the driveway. As fast as I could shift I rocketed through the gears and down the street and jammed on the brakes just in time to keep from blowing through the intersection a couple of hundred yards from my house. I have no idea how fast I had gone. My mind barely had time to process that I had done it but I had somehow blown well past highway speeds and back to zero in just seconds. I put the bike in neutral at the stop sign and sat there. My brain is on fire. I'm laughing like a mad scientist and realize it but I can't stop. I want more! I'm a junkie with the need for speed and I have the needle pressed up against my arm and I'm about to hit the throttle and inject the adrenaline but my age and wisdom are telling me to stop. This is crazy! This thing should come with a matching casket and I know it but the need inside screams for more. It'll be ok! I want this. I need this! I deserve this! Just a little more...
Mark it down and tell my Mama that I did the right thing for once. Sweating but smiling, I eased the beast around the block very slowly and carefully and nosed it into my driveway. It was six hundred cc's of carbon fiber-wrapped crack without lights, mirrors, warning labels or anything else that would do anything but make it go fast and I grudgingly gave it back to the eighteen year old owner. I felt old for not airing it out and indulging my craving but at least I was still alive. I felt older when I heard myself say something about "too fast" to the rocket's owner. He said, "You just have to know how to handle it" and then commenced to show me what that meant.
Sixty seconds later when I was helping my young friend out of my neighbor's demolished bushes, my age and wisdom were not enough from keeping me from asking him about that statement.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Two Things
1) Things could be worse, I guess. At least it wasn't Hillary.
2) Is it too early to start campaining for Sarah Palin 2012?
2) Is it too early to start campaining for Sarah Palin 2012?
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.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Graves Disease
If I have been rude to you, fallen asleep while you talked or stared at you with my eyes bugging out, this website that my friend Gary found may explain some of that. Or maybe I was just so shocked that you are such a jerk that I fell asleep. It could happen.
Credit crunch?
I just got an email from my credit card company saying my limit had been upped to something crazy. I think I'll go buy a house.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Because I can...
Just because I didn't want any of my loyal fans to have to look at either Lyin' Al Gore or Fancypants Aiken when they did their hourly check-in, here's a picture that is better. (I'm home sick, by the way, so enjoy these brief moments of creativity while they last.)
Gore urges more stupidity
"If you're a young person looking at the future of this planet and looking at what is being done right now, and not done, I believe we have reached the stage where it is time for civil disobedience to prevent the construction of new coal plants that do not have carbon capture and sequestration," Gore told the Clinton Global Initiative gathering to loud applause.
Wow #1: Gore can still get a speaking gig.
Wow #2: People applaud him like they are listening.
Wow #3: He just told young people they should break the law.
He's right. And left. And wrong.
Clay Aiken has come out of the closet and admitted he's gay. Shocker. In the article he says, "I don't really feel like I have anybody to answer to but myself and God and the people I love." It's that whole answering to God part that's the doozy.
Exodus 20:14
1 Corinthians 6:9-10
1 Corinthians 5:1
Ephesians 5:3
Leviticus 18:22
Deuteronomy 23:17
Leviticus 20:13
Romans 1:24-27
1 Timothy 1:10
Fortunately for Clay there are also:
(Jeremiah 29:11-13 NKJV) For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the LORD, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. {12} Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. {13} And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart.
(Romans 10:10-13 NKJV) For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation. {11} For the Scripture says, "Whoever believes on Him will not be put to shame." {12} For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek, for the same Lord over all is rich to all who call upon Him. {13} For "whoever calls on the name of the LORD shall be saved."
Jeremiah 33:8 I will cleanse them from all the sin they have committed against me and will forgive all their sins of rebellion against me.
1 John 2:12 KJV I write unto you, little children, because your sins are forgiven you for his name's sake.
Cleaning up after Gustav
Here are a few pics of our trip to Donaldsonville, LA a couple of weeks ago. Five of us from my church went there to chainsaw trees and tarp some roofs messed up by the hurricane. We also got to talk to some folks about Jesus so it was a good time. It was good to be able to help. Samaritan's Purse had everything we needed.
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