Even my dogs like my church!

I miss it.

It's been so long since I was in Acapulco but I can still feel the warm sand, the breaking waves and the cold, refreshing taste of a Bimbo Negrito! I wonder why I can't find it up here?

Ok, now what?

"We know more about war than about peace. We know more about killing than about living. This is our 20th Century's claim to progress -knowledge of science outstrips capacity for control. We have too many men of science, too few men of God. The world has achieved brilliance without wisdom, power without conscience. We are a world of nuclear giants and ethical infants."

--- General Omar Bradley

It may have been fifty years ago when General Bradley said this but it is very applicable today. Great motivating words -- but motivating to do what?

James 1:5
If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

I feel so guilty now.

Popcorn makes me happy!

I rarely fawn over a place so much as to recommend it here but this is me fawning! I didn't even know I could fawn but since now that's the word I chose, I'll go with it. Whatever it means, you need to go to The Popcorn Stop in Arlington. Make a special trip if you need to. It will be worth it. I told you I went there last week and got a few flavors. Well, yesterday I went back there and bought 9 other flavors. They have 55 different flavors. I felt like a kid in a popcorn store! They also have all kinds of different candies that you don't see anymore like candy cigarettes. Gotta love 'em just don't let your kids see 'em. I bought all kinds of popcorn: cheese, sour cream and chives, loaded baked potato, mac and cheese, jalapeno ranch, dill pickle (actually very good), blackberry, cheesecake and something else. All of it wonderful. I was so happy when I got home from work that I did the popcorn dance. I'm thinking about getting a bunch of those "party size" bags and filling up my car and just driving around, eat, eat, driving around, eat, eat, fill up the bathtub, eat, eat, smoke a candy cigarette, eat, eat, sit in the kiddie pool full of popcorn, eat, eat...you get the idea.

Storytime in parts

--Part X--

Marilyn entered the diner and looked around. Her high hopes were met on the way down by a rising hunger that overcame her leariness of the place. The smell of grease and bacon and eggs and a vague sweetness were enveloped in cigarette smoke and bleach. She considered turning around and going right back out the door but the stranger had said something about pancakes and...well, she had promised Teddy something to eat...and she would hate to be rude to the new friend she had just made...maybe just a quick bite and then she and Teddy would continue running away.

She noticed the stares of the few patrons in the place when she walked in. She realized she must look frightful and became embarrassed by the muddy clothes she had on. She tried to run her fingers through her hair but hit tangles instead. Standing there was almost more than she could do and she again felt the need for escape but just as she was turning to go she saw her new friend wave to her from a booth toward the back. His smile was friendly and accepting and reminded her of her father's smile that she realized she missed terribly. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind and she felt herself walk toward the man fearing everything but him.

She sat down in the booth across from the man and looked around the room. Mismatched chairs sat in foursomes around tables draped with checkered tablecloths. The checkering was continued on the curtains pulled back from the windows and ash trays and condiments all sat partially full on each table. There was considerable noise coming from the kitchen next to them and a tired old waitress bustled back and forth between tables and the kitchen with trays and dishes and drinks all the while seeming to put most of her effort into ignoring Marilyn and the man. Marilyn realized the man had never said his name.

He seemed to be in no hurry to tell her much of anything and yet he had a friendly, knowing look about him that intrigued her. He sat back in his seat and lit a cigarette he had just taken from the ash tray and breathed out making an unusual effort to not blow the smoke in her direction. He seemed to relish in the smoke and the moment, tilting his head back and looking toward the ceiling and then down to her like they were old friends who did this every day. Marilyn just stared at him.

"The owner of this place is a friend of mine" he said, as if Marilyn had asked about it. "I sit back here and nobody hassles me." He paused and then said, "I recommend the pancakes."

Marilyn still stared at him without speaking, trying to soak up everything she was seeing. He looked more real now away from the gazebo with an air of intelligence in his weathered face that even she recognized. She felt he must be an important man even though he was not dressed like it and had humor in his eyes that made her feel welcome and comfortable.

"So, is that what you want? Pancakes?", he asked.

Her head cocked ever so slightly to one side and after a pause she said, "What's your name?"

He grinned and said simply,"Don...Don Dodson."

Good one, Ben!

Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote. - Benjamin Franklin

Bad name or good marketing?

I'm not sure if this product was well thought-out or not. Maybe they are just naive. Maybe I'm not naive enough. Maybe they wanted you to stumble across it if you googled something else, you know, manly. I don't know and I'm not going to google it to find out. And I'm not being seen in my yard riding one. By the way, it's not the "Zeon" part I have a problem with.

One more reason to go to my church

I've written here before of the evils of racism and what a cancerous poison it is to a person. Today I was reminded of a childrens' song I haven't thought of in decades. Something about,"Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world". I was reminded because as I looked around our church today I saw so many different shades of skin color and it almost made me laugh. What a good barometer of a groups' heart: wanting every week to worship with people for no other reason than because we want to worship God. It doesn't matter about skin color any more than it does eye color. I saw rich people sitting next to folks that are struggling--people that have nothing in common except a love for the Lord and we just had a great time!

Our pastor told a funny story today about one of his kids. Our pastor and his wife who are white have four adopted black kids all five years old and younger. He said that a while back that the boy who is the oldest was going through a phase of going around saying some random word over and over again. Who knows what goes through a kid's brain but he enjoyed "popcorn" for a while. He would run around saying "popcorn, popcorn, popcorn!" Then he moved on to "cracker". He'd run around saying "cracker" just for the fun of it. Pastor said that they invited some friends over one night for dinner and when the doorbell rang the boy opened the door and yelled "Cracker!" to the white guests as they came in the house. I imagine that was probably hard to explain!

I hate to think of when that little boy will learn about racism but thankfully our church will probably not be the place.

How many can you do?

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.


-Robert A. Heinlein

Don't read this if you don't like it.

Man, it's been a long week! I mean, it's been like 6 days since I've been on the beach and I'm really feeling it. I need a break. For some reason this week has been especially confrontational. I collect taxes for a living so I don't expect to be Mr. Big Popular in most places but this week has been rough. I've heard "I hate you", "I hope I never see you again", I made some people cry and saw several nekkid women. All in a day's work!

Oh, you think it's all funsy wunsy going to the strip club to collect tax? Not when you can't tell if the girl dancing is wearing any bottoms because her fat is rolling over so much! I think you just put the dollar between the rolls. There might even be a change machine in there. I'm not sure. When she turns around you just swipe your card and put in your PIN #, I guess. Not sure how all that works.

I did get to do a couple of things today that made me happy. I went to Half-Price Books and bought some stuff I'll probably never read and also bought some popcorn at The Popcorn Store and came home and ate it so that made up for alot this week. Anyway, I hope to write some more about Marilyn and Teddy soon. I've really enjoyed that. If you don't then quit reading it. Oh, one last thing: do you really need a Facebook and a Myspace? They're the same thing! Do one or the other.

Just my thoughts. Like I say, it's been a long week.

Li'l twirp!

Overheard as I walked through the mall today from a little boy to his friend as I walked past: "Wow! Did you see how big his eyes were? He was scary!"

Where's the bacon?

What kind of sissy-boy burger doesn't have bacon?

Beach week

Big decisions and deep thinking this past week! Decisions like, should I go to the beach or the pool? And thinking about such things as: if there is somebody fatter and hairier than me there is it ok to take off my shirt? Also, what is the age limit for thongs? Does that woman really think anybody wants to see her in that? Socrates I ain't but I am a thinker and I had plenty of time to do that in Acapulco this week. Enjoy a few of the pics.

Gonna wash that man right outta my hair...

Storytime in parts

--Part IX--

A familiar whine seemed to envelope her subconscience. Crazy dreams had plagued her all night but now it was as though something familiar was overcoming all the unfamiliar but she was not yet sure how she knew it. For several long moments it was as though she was trying to move, yet she tried and failed and was not even sure if she wanted to move. What was that noise? She knew she should know it but it just would not register. It continued and got louder and then was suddenly punctuated with a strong sloppy lick right in her nose! Marilyn woke up with Teddy standing next to her head with what had to be a smile on his face and a wag to his tail that shook the whole back half of his body looking at her as if to welcome his friend back from the dead.

The sun had not yet come up but had sent various shades of gray as a precursor to the dawn seemingly to further mask the reality of Marilyn's true situation. She sat up and scooted her body a foot away to the trunk of the nearest tree, wiped her hands on her pants and then rubbed her eyes. It took a minute for her to break through the fog of knowledge but she soon remembered what had happened the day before. She was cold, hungry, thirsty and probably worst of all was the fear: fear of the dark, fear of being without her mother, fear of being without a plan.

Teddy was the only bright light in the situation. He continued to grin his confident grin as he stood in front of her now but even he brought about a pang of dread to her. His confident look was confidence in her. He was confident that she would provide for him. He was confident that she would soon get him what he wanted and needed and the realization crashed her mind with unwelcome clarity. Teddy was having a grand time and enjoyed this new freedom but even freebirds must be traveling on, now, and Lord knows Teddy needed a change. Anything was better than being cooped up in the back yard but it was time for breakfast!

Marilyn stood up in sync with the first ray of sunshine and looked at Teddy with her best fake smile.

"It's gonna be okay, Teddy", she said. "C'mon boy."

This was just what Teddy wanted to hear and he jumped up on her to express his approval.

"Get down, Ted!" she muttered still a little groggy from the poor night's sleep. Undeterred, he made a victory lap around her feet and jumped up one more time with grinning eyes. They walked over to the creek. Marilyn found an old two by four and placed it beside the water and then knelt down with her knees on it trying not to get muddy. With her full weight the board sunk in the mud leaving her on her hands and knees in cold, slimy mud. She tried to jump up but her foot slipped and sent her headfirst into the water. With a little more caution she managed to slop out of the mud onto dry land with the creek water being chased off of her cheeks by tears. Her naive resolution to freedom was steadily dripping away and the morning had just clocked in.

She decided to just start walking. She realized she really had no choice. What else was she going to do? In this case, necessity was the mother of mobilization so she walked up over the hill and then over the next hill and even the next. The mud in her shoes and the wet clothes made for a miserable hike and Marilyn felt the world as she knew it collapse a little further with every step she took but she marched on. The sun was up now and as she trudged on she began to finally get warm. She topped a small rise and saw the steeple of a church and she could not help but smile. It represented to her Heaven in more ways than one on this gloomy day. She knew that where there was a church there must be people and where there were people she was sure to find help.

The town around the church was still fairly quiet this warm, sunny summer day but was gradually starting to stretch its legs and come to life. She passed the still-vacant church and walked down the sidewalk to the town square. Small but tidy and inviting, the square had a squatty, whitewashed gazebo with worn natural tone wooden benches around the inside edge. As she got closer to the gazebo she saw a man sitting on one of the benches and she moved rapidly toward him ready to explain her situation and certain that he would jump up and help her.

It was only when she has jumped up the single step from the sidewalk to the shaded area under the wooden roof that she realized things might be different. The man on the bench looked to be dozing but held in one hand the butt of a cigarette. He opened his eyes slowly as Marilyn popped in front of him wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He looked at her and squinted his dark eyes just a bit but seemed not the least disconcerted at the ragamuffin in front of him. He said nothing but looked at the cigarette between his fingers, noting the lack of substance and then looked back at the girl. They stared at each other for a long moment. Marilyn seemed frozen, partly with fear of the man and partly in wonderment of how he looked. He broke the staring contest with a glance that followed his hand to his coat pocket. He pulled out a brown paper sack that followed the outlines of a brown glass bottle. Then he unscrewed the lid and tilted his head back and drank deeply from the copper-colored liquid. With another slight squint he exhaled and burped.

"Who are you?" he finally said.

"My, my name's Marilyn", she said finally finding the words. "Who are you?"

The man looked at her muddy clothes and ratted hair.

"You thirsty?", he asked, holding up the bottle and repressing a smile.

Marilyn was unsure exactly what was in that bottle but knew she wanted no part of it. The brown bag surrounding it was dirty and wrinkled and looked like it had been wet but had dried. Her mouth watered involuntarily at the thought of something to drink but this was no temptation even now. She shook her head as she took in the picture of the man before her. He was tall, she could tell even though he was sitting. His hair was short but slightly longer than his beard and his clothes and skin seemed to be the same dingy brownish-gray color. His skin was just slightly less wrinkled and worn than his pants and jacket and it was hard to tell how old he might be. Marilyn wondered for a second if he was actually a living part of the bench he sat on.

"I ran away", she said, expecting considerably more response than she got.

"How's that working out for you?" the man asked dryly.

"Not very well, to be honest."

"I reckon not." He paused and then added, "Have a seat" gesturing to the bench next to his that made up part of the octagonal gazebo sitting area.

Teddy just laid down in the shade as Marilyn sat on the edge of the seat next to him.

"Do you live around here?", asked Marilyn.

"You could say that."

"Where's your house?" she continued quizzing.

He grinned slyly and looked at the roof of the gazebo but answered her question with a question of his own.

"Does your mama know where you are?"

She just looked down at the worn wooden floor. Her shoulders slumped and the corners of her mouth tightened. He watched her for a moment and knowingly anticipated the tear that eventually forced its way from her eye and down the side of her nose.

"I know where we can get something to eat", he said changing the subject. He put the bottle back in his coat pocket and leaned forward with his hands on his knees. "You interested?"

Teddy cocked his head and licked his lips and the man noticed that the girl did almost the same thing. The man grinned warmly, stood to his feet and said softly, "Follow me. You like pancakes?"

As he stood up Marilyn craned her neck back and said, "Wow! You're tall!"

He made no response but slowly walked off the step of the gazebo onto the sidewalk. Marilyn followed him in amazement, talking as she went.

"I've never seen anybody as tall as you! My daddy is tall but not tall as you. Are you ten feet tall?" she chattered, suddenly forgetting that she had been crying.

"Eleven" said the man with a glance but continuing to walk across the street and to the door of a diner. Marilyn and Teddy had followed but the man was already inside when they got to the door.

"Wait right here, Teddy. I"ll bring something out for you in a minute." She kissed him on the head and walked in.

Knight, wider

When I think of a knight, I think of a medieval warrior ahorseback with a sword or lance bravely fighting against tyranny in the name of his majestic king. An honorable and trustworthy young lad jousting for the honor of a lady. Or sometimes a souped-up Mustang or Trans-Am but never an overweight old man with a checkered history, questionable morals and faulty politics. But that all changed this week when it was announced that Ted Kennedy would receive an honorary knighthood. What foe is he going to battle against? The all-you-can-eat buffet? We're gonna need extra links in the chainmail suit for this one! He will slay the dragon but then he's gonna barbecue it and leave the princess in the moat to drown. Feel free to print out this page and color the knight in Kennedy's honor. Yellow would be appropriate.

Venomous

That's nothing. I had to drive my mother in law all the way to the doctor the other day!

That's funny right there!

Now be nice! This picture cracked me up when I saw it but you need to be nice with your captions. Be original. Leave Bill's name out of it and keep it clean. I promise not to leave it at the top for very long so we don't have to look at it any longer than it takes to make fun of her.

Their patron saints are Smith & Wesson

Ok, don't rag on me cuz S&W didn't make that particular gun or something! It's just a funny picture! Lighten up. Besides we all know that neither Catholics nor Muslims will be in Heaven. Or most Church of Christ.

h/t imao

Ooh, wow.

You might not realize just how lucky you are. Did you know how close we all came to total disaster? A scant 44,000 miles, that's how close! I hope you ducked as the meteor thing practically grazed the earth. C'mon people, is this really news? OK, I know that in the scheme of things (the size of the universe) that 44,000 miles is not very far but would you really describe it as a close shave? 44,000 miles is like...I don't know...from here to oh, maybe El Paso. If you've ever driven to El Paso you know that it takes forever! It's nowhere near here! Also, if you are a member of the International Astronomical Union and you use words like "geosynchronous", then you gotta get out more!

Storytime in parts

--Part VIII--

Even the house itself now seemed lonely and depressed. What had seemed just yesterday as busy and homey and full of life now seemed desolate and drab. Colorful yellow and blue curtains hung mockingly over the kitchen sink looking out to the morning sun that rose so slowly as to seem to dread casting it's light on the situation. A few unwashed dishes sat uncharacteristically in the sink not unlike the middle-aged woman sitting at the table. Every light was on and the coffee in the pot was cold.

The woman had cried away whatever makeup she had been wearing and her cotton dress was wrinkled and as tired-looking as she was. The table wore a slightly stained white table cloth, held a three-quarters full coffee mug and supported the elbows of a mother who terribly missed her little girl. She had not heard anything about Marilyn in several hours and had gone from concerned to panic to nearly paralyzed in the meantime. Every horror than can be imagined had scorched across her mind in unrelenting succession as she watched the phone and the door through the night every moment hoping it would be the last she would go without seeing Marilyn's smiling face. The minutes dragged on as she remembered the last words she had said to her daughter and regret kicked at her heart while it was down.

The phone had not completed ringing the first time when she grabbed the receiver and barked "Hello!", more of a command to start talking than a greeting. Officer Blunt had gotten only a few more hours sleep than the sleepless mother but his calm voice was exactly what she needed to hear. He had seen "Brother Thundermuffin" at the coffee shop early this morning and the old farmer had told the officer about seeing a young girl and a dog on his property.

"Kids these days..." he muttered. "We didn't do stuff like that in my day! We had respect for other people's property when I was young. That's what's wrong this world. No respect for other people...blah, blah, blah".

Blunt skipped the details of the old man's conversation when he talked to the mother but assured her he was heading over to the man's house right now and implored her to stay right where she was and wait for his call. He would call as soon as he found her but it would be best for her to wait at the house in case Marilyn came home on her own. The news, although less than stellar, was as welcome as a deep breath after being under water. The mother silently mouthed a prayer and tried unsuccessfully not to cry again.

Here it comes

Hang on gun fans, here it comes! The ball has started rolling and is picking up speed and soon we'll all be lucky to have BB guns in our Obamanation. Second Amendment, Schmecond Amendment! Better buy 'em now while you can! Let me know what you purchase.

My most beautiful

And the award goes to...'53 Buick Convertible! I love the chrome. I love the lines. Two doors and still huge! Eye candy at its height!

Thanks DR

Gotta love stupid-funny rednecks!

If you brand your cattle with spray paint, you might be a redneck!

If you take your bull to senior prom, you might be a redneck!

If you tattoo your girlfriend's initials on the side of your bull, you might be a redneck!

If you drive a 3/4 ton Pontiac, you might be a redneck!

It's hard to see her but Cody Shane's girlfriend is still in the passenger seat.

Good friends, good church, good grief!

Everybody has a bad day every once in a while. Sometimes that day can stretch into weeks or months and we've all been there. Well, anybody with teenagers has probably been there. This week has been pretty good. Last week was one of the worst I've ever had. Several times this week I've wondered what people do that don't have Jesus in their lives and don't have Christian friends and a good church to come beside them and hold them up. Where do people go when they need help and advice and wisdom? Do you have friends that would pray for you in the middle of the night? Do you have friends that will come to your house just to sit with you or help you do things that you could do by yourself but don't want to? I do. I have friends like that. I have friends that take time out of their busy, stressful day to help me, council me, or just text me to let me know they were praying for me. All I can say is, thank you. Thank you so much!

Job 2:11-13

Rules to live by...

You can debate all day long whether these apply to you or not and hopefully you will never have to figure it out but if this ever happened I hope you can remember the rules. Maybe you have seen them before...


And if I seem to be looking at you funny, it's because I'm remembering #21.


Thanks DT

My point is...

Ok, yea, thanks for the input on the last post, "Interesting Article". Evidently I was the only one who found it interesting. So anyhow, here's my point which I got from the comments section of the linked article: Even with my Concealed Handgun Permit, there are certain places that it is illegal for me to carry my gun and yet I have to admit that unless there is a metal detector at the door, I'm probably carrying. Not everywhere, but most places. And the only way you will ever know if I'm carrying is if I have to pull it out to save a life and there is no other way. I am trained and prepared, knowing the consequences and the benefits and I would rather face a jury of my peers than have a good guy get killed (me or you). So, that's my point.

Interesting article

But even more interesting comments afterward. What do you think?

Catholics get all the cool stuff!

I don't think Baptists even have any patron saints much less this one. We do have Bacon Explosions though and I think that's better.

Storytime in parts

--Part VII--

The human body is an amazing machine of self-preservation. When the vocal cords detect the presence of water or other liquid they sometimes will constrict causing a partial blocking of breathing in which, in the case of near drowning, the situation can last just long enough to block any water from entering the lungs and enable a person to survive for a few seconds under water even if it is unexpected. The condition, laryngospasm, is exactly what happened to Marilyn in the few seconds she was in the creek. Scared, wet and confused, she pulled herself up the other bank and sat down and cried. The clandestine creek had swollen in recent rains that also enabled a growth spurt in the tall grass which made the rivulet almost invisible to Marilyn as she had run out of the barn. Her realization of it failed to make her feel any better, though, and now her situation was dire indeed.

Her mother did not know what kind of dire situation her daughter was in but she now knew that she was missing. After Officer Blunt had taken Ike to the jail, he called Marilyn's mother and told her what he knew of the situation. He assured her that Marilyn would be home soon and that everything would be fine and he was pretty sure that he was not lying to the woman but mainly wanted to make her feel better by saying it. Nobody knew where she was or if she was okay or not but how do you say that to a mother? To be honest, he had not had time to think about Marilyn since the Ike incident. His day since that event had been gorged with interviews of town folk, phone calls, paperwork and other investigation as well as visits to the medical examiner, the chief of police and the mayor. Blunt's first murder investigation was wearing him out but he knew that Marilyn's mother would be anxious to hear about her.

In the meantime, Teddy was quite excited about this new aspect of the adventure. Neither he nor Marilyn knew how to get to the other one without walking what seemed like miles down the creek until it was shallow enough for her to walk across it to him. She did what she had to do to get to him and then fell down next to him exhausted and buried her face in the fur of his neck and let all of her weariness and frustration wet his collar. He sensed her agony and sat still next to his friend until she finally relaxed and lay down next to him. Pretty soon both were asleep in the grass.

Bullet Bob and why I don't care about the Super Bowl

One does not read this blog for the sports. You have probably noticed. The Olympics were pretty interesting because you don't get to see that kind of stuff very often and I like to watch rodeos but other than that, there's not much room in my life for televised sports. I can appreciate how much effort goes into such games but I'm just really not interested anymore.

I saw in the news that "Bullet" Bob Hayes was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame this week and it hit me that the reason I lost interest in the game started with him. He was actually my hero when I was in grade school. I had his poster on my wall over my bed and loved to pretend that I was as fast as he was when I ran. He motivated me as a boy of about 6 or 7 to run hard and play hard and enjoy the game of football more than any other game. I wanted to be just like "Bullet" Bob.

I don't remember how old I was exactly when I heard the news that Bob Hayes had been arrested on drug charges. Looking back on it, what he did was not too uncommon for today's world including sports heroes but back in the day when I was just a young boy wanting to be like that man, what he did was unthinkable. I vividly remember going into my room and slowly taking down his poster from my wall and folding it up and putting it in the trash. I was devistated.

I went on to play football in middle school and high school and loved the game much more than it loved me. You know the joke, "I may be short but I'm slow!" That was me and so I knew pretty quick that my future in football was short-lived. I still enjoyed watching the game some, it was just that seeing grown men abuse the system that put them there, go on strike for more money and use all kinds of drugs and all that stupid stuff just put a bad taste in my mouth for professional games.

This isn't about bashing Bob Hayes. I just don't care who wins the Super Bowl today. I am all about the Super Bowl party that I'm about to go to. Who knows, maybe they will even have some good commercials?

Things I would rather be doing than watching the Super Bowl:

Storytime in parts

--Part VI--

Overall, today was turning into a great time. His ribs were a bit sore behind his left front leg but Teddy was not going to hold one kick from a surly ol' judge against a beautiful, freedom-filled afternoon. What more could a guy want besides a brisk walk in the sunshine with his best friend across fields and down roads, behind buildings and houses and even the occasional respite under a tree? Sometimes he thought he might miss the little metal water bowl back at the house but as long as Marilyn was walking and talking to him, Teddy felt pretty good about things. He had confidence that wherever they were going that she would take care of him and so he was as carefree as ever.

This buoyancy of spirit, however, was confined to only half of the daring duo. Marilyn trudged along with the stubborn naievite of a child but was slowly starting to forget how this plan was supposed to end. She knew that she and Teddy needed to get out of this town but the thoughts of where and how were slowly walking their way through her mind with each step she took. Recollections of her now-former home began to creep painfully into attention along with an irritating realization that she was hungry and thirsty. She and Teddy had walked several miles at an expeditious pace with few stops and she was realizing that she was not only spent physically and emotionally but she was also probably lost as well.

Marilyn stopped beside a pole barn and looked around. Teddy watched her for a second but was quickly distracted by what might be in the barn and proceeded inside. Marilyn followed, welcoming the coolness of the open-sided barn and was glad to find an old mower to sit on.

"Here, Teddy. Which one do you want?" she asked, holding out a choice of candy bars to the dog.

Teddy sniffed the first one he came to and tried to bite it but Marilyn pulled it away long enough to unwrap it and then handed it back to him.

"Good, because I don't really care for peanuts." The two of them shared their few bites of candy and Marilyn slumped back in the seat of the mower with a sigh.

Teddy was just finishing his when Marilyn saw his ears go up and forward and his body stiffened. He licked the last of the candy from his lips and let out a soft growl. Marilyn then heard the voices and looked up as two men in overalls approached the small barn. They were talking to each other but one man seemed quite disturbed and was gesturing with one hand as they walked. As they got closer, Marilyn recognized the gesturing man as the man from church of whom her father had labeled "Brother Thundermuffin" for his ability to raise a ruckus about everything that happened at church, none of it ever being done to his liking.

Marilyn slid off the side of the mower and was holding tight to Teddy as the two men got closer. She just knew that if they caught her they would call the cops and she would be put in jail and who knows what would happen to Teddy then? Her imagination quickly went to places she refused to go physically and she silently promised Teddy again that she would protect him.

A quick "C'mon" was all she said and all it took to bring Teddy in right behind her as she flashed out of the far end of the barn and right over the edge of the unseen creek into and under the rapidly moving water! She heard a splash, a bark and then nothing but darkness. The two startled men were unsure what they just saw.

I'm a model, you know what I mean? And I do my little turn on the catwalk!

A female co-worker had a copy of Vogue magazine in the office today and I glanced through it and wondered: Looking through a womens' magazine all you see are beautiful female models in the ads. When you look at a mens' magazine all you see are beautiful female models in the ads. Where do male models wind up working?

I'm no schmuck!

I may not be alot of things that I should be. I may be alot of things that I should not be. One thing I ain't, though, is a schmuck. I'm not even sure of the definition of the word. It's sort of one of those things that you know it when you see it. I hate the feeling of someone trying to make me out to be a smuck when I'm obviously not one. It's sort of the same feeling you get when you're a tourist. I don't want to be like everybody else and I don't want people thinking I'm stupid. Am I the only one knowing what I'm talking about?

Here's my example: I joined the National Rifle Association in August of last year. Without exaggeration, it was within two weeks after joining that they sent me a letter asking me to renew my membership. They had not even sent me my membership card and they already wanted me to send them more money. Now, I understand that the NRA does not survive without money (I'm not stupid, remember?) but if I had wanted to sign up for multiple years I would have done so. I also don't like being asked if I want a fried pie at McDonald's for the same reason and yet I understand why they ask -- because some people are schmucks!

At least twice a month I get a warm and loving personal letter from Wayne LaPierre who is the Executive Vice President of the NRA. Each one tells me how smart I am for joining and how valued I am to the association and how they could not do it without me. I'm sure a miniscule part of that is true but today's letter said that if I would just renew now that I would "save the NRA the cost of sending more notices". No (head-bob) kidding! I have a better idea. If they would just quit sending me notices it would save them money on sending me notices! And quit calling me Todd..."Dear Todd", "Thanks to you, Todd", "You're so hot, Todd! Love, Wayne" What do they think I am? A schmuck?!

Storytime in parts

--Part V--

The scene had died down outside of Ike's store with Judge Maloff and Melissa along with officer Blunt all coming to the conclusion at the same time that the real problem of the day was going to be inside the store. It seems that the violence and commotion outside was being outdone by the havoc being played out inside. The judge held his daughter behind his back while Officer Blunt approached the front door and for the second time today put his right hand on his holstered security-six.

Walter Blunt, tall and baby-faced for his twenty six years, had plans to become a veterinarian in high school but realized quickly that his grades would be a difficult hurdle to get over for such lofty plans. Serious and agreeable, Walter got along well with everybody in school including his teachers but found it hard to make more than average grades in class. He had many acquaintences but few real friends and had attended the local college with the help of his mother and with extreme effort and a couple of extra years had managed to graduate with a degree in criminal justice. He knew his mother was proud of him but he had few glories as his life's history had unfolded so far. He enjoyed the aspect of his job that involved helping people but in this quiet, quaint, quadrate little box of a community he felt his passions underutilized. That all seemed to be changing in this one moment.

Officer Blunt reached the door and looked inside. He could only see Ike's ankle and foot sticking out behind a wooden aisle filled with groceries but he could hear Ike screaming, crying, rambling incoherently and evidently doing some sort of damage to his store. Just as Blunt opened the door a worn wooden plank from the floor was pried up and tossed over the aisle nearly hitting Blunt and sending cereal boxes flying out of its path. Blunt felt himself breathing and heard himself calling the merchant's name as everything seemed unreal. Time seemed to be moving through the most narrow of hour glass as the young officer moved his body heavily around the corner.

"Ike, stop it! Aw, gee, stop it, Ike!" Blunt grabbed Ike from behind and pulled him away from the hole in the floor with Ike bringing part of a corpse with him as they both crashed into a gondola full of snacks.

"I told her to just shut up but she wouldn't do it! All day long she nagged! I told her to shut up, I told her!" cried Ike. "Even when she was dead she was loud! She wouldn't shut up! I had to do it! I had to!"

And Marilyn thought her day was bad...

just to see if i could do it

Here's a post to prove I can do it on Ambien (2hours ago). I used to live by a guy who put a 4x8 sheet of plywood in his front yard with the words, "Stay off of my lawn Mr. McGinnis!" I thought it was strange until I met McGinnis.

James 1:8

A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.

Mmm...bacon explosion

Wow! Pork with pork! I never would have thought of it. Butter me up and wrap me in a 5x5 bacon weave. Ooh! Oh! Then dip me in some jalapeno cheese sauce. It's like fat-boy p&rn.

Ecclesiastes 10:2

A wise man's heart directs him toward the right, but the foolish man's heart directs him toward the left.

Yea, what he said!

I was not expecting this from a site that is often as stupid as mine.

You have a what?

Storytime in parts

--Part IV--

Teddy was unsure about why everybody was yelling but he was sure he did not want another kick so he stayed a little way off even from Marilyn. He was not scared of her at all but afraid to get too close so even though she called him, he felt safer just hanging back for awhile. Marilyn had started to cry now as the adults discussed the situation. The judge was stomping around saying he would kill the dog if he came closer to his daughter. Officer Blunt, with his hand on his holstered revolver, was walking toward Teddy talking baby-talk but Marilyn feared the worst as Teddy looked like he was about to believe Blunt's flattery.

Marilyn took off running, looking back and yelling, "Run, Teddy! C'mon! C'mon boy!"

Teddy needed no further encouragement and ran after Marilyn with his ears back and tail down and the two of them kept on running for several hundred yards. The two men were hollering at her to come back and that it would be alright but Marilyn knew better than to believe them. She knew she was going to be in trouble now but she kept on running until she could run no further. Teddy ran along beside her enjoying the brisk run and glad to get away from the others. He slowed to a trot now as Marilyn continued at a fast walk. She glanced behind her from time to time expecting the whole town to be after her and her best friend and she promised Teddy as they continued that nobody would ever take him from her. What Marilyn failed to know was that Ike was keeping both officer and judge busy with what would turn out to be larger matters.

Unaware of what was happening at the crime scene, Marilyn and Teddy hiked towards the horizon. Thoughts of home and family flew across the child's mind as she went. Quite sure she would never see them again, she padded on, determined to remove Teddy from harm no matter the consequences. Her heart was still racing as she remembered how this trip started and she wondered how long it would take until her mother came looking for her, interrogating her with questions about milk, Teddy, and...candy bars! She realized to her horror that she had accidentally run out of Ike's with a candy bar in each hand and had not thought about them since she first heard the commotion start when she was inside trying to decide which one to buy. She had slammed one into each pocket as the fracas ensued and now it dawned on her that not only was she running away with a wanted dog but she, too, was a wanted outlaw; a common thief on the run.

Her choices were clear. There was only one way out of this.

I remember her now

Three feet tall, 45 pounds and throwing poo? I think I used to date her!

Quiet cussing

Several times lately I have heard people cuss but when they come to the naughty word they say it real quietly. What's up with that? You know how it is. "What the (say it real quiet) is going on here?" Does the volume determine the offensiveness? It's also usually accompanied by a quick head-bob on the word for effect.

Storytime in parts

--Part III--

Teddy was disappointed with the lack of contents of the Hershey wrapper he found outside of Ike's. He was sure he needed something to eat and continued to search for a snack all the while keeping an eye out for Marilyn. Hopefully she would bring him something so he kept close to the door the best he could but there was alot to see and smell around here. In fact, something smelled wonderfully dead but he was unsure exactly where it was.

He saw something else that he thought might be tasty just as two cars pulled into the small parking lot. To Teddy, the only thing better than a snack might be a new friend and so he ran typically dangerously close to where the first car was parking and waited for the door to open with his long tail waving a welcome. Maybe the new friends might even be bringing him something to eat, he thought, and drooled just a little at the anticipation.

The first car to enter the lot was driven by Irwin Maloff, the county judge; a man with little patience for much of anything besides his pre-teen daughter who was passenger of the big Buick and who had whined long enough about wanting a Fanta that his Honor finally stopped to get her one. He knew she would probably just drink a few sips and throw it away but buying her one was easier than trying to argue against it.

The vehicle to pull in just behind the Buick was a squad car, gleaming black and white with importance and conspicuousness, driven by Officer Walter Blunt, the town's finest. Blunt had two whole years on the police force and had seen Judge Maloff down the street and had decided to pull into Ike's after him with some guise of buying something in hopes that the judge might see him and who knows what benefit that might bring even if it was to just break the monotony of the day? Blunt parked the cruiser just as Melissa Maloff screamed.

"Ow! He bit me!" squealed the startled girl.

She had not seen Teddy until she had opened the door and he nosed in to smell her. When he did the girl jumped and her knee hit Teddy's mouth with a thud. Teddy jumped back and waited for the girl to get out of the car so they could greet each other properly but before he could even catch a whiff of her a heavy boot crashed into his ribs just behind his front leg and lifted Teddy up and over a surprising distance. His yelp was as hurtful to Marilyn as the blow was to Teddy. She came busting out the door with each hand unconciously clutching a candy bar and screamed at the judge who was eyeing Teddy for another potential wallop.

The judge was hollering at Teddy, Melissa was crying, partly from fright, partly from embarrassment, Officer Blunt was swearing he saw it all and Ike was being ignored as he cried something unintelligible about "killed her" and "beating of her heart". Marilyn, too, was adding to the chaos as she called for Teddy to come to her and at the same time pleading his case to the adults at the scene. It seemed unreal to Teddy who failed to understand why they were all screaming. All this and he was pretty sure nobody was going to feed him anything.

Sassypants Dori-Belle

This is my sweet biscuit Dori. She's not big enough to jump into the bed of a truck but if you don't think she's a real dog then you and 4 of your toughest friends meet me outside right now!

Storytime in parts

--Part II--

From the front door of his little store Ike Elsheim had fair perusal of most of the town. He stood there for a moment after turning the "Open" sign over and unlocking the door. Probably nobody would have even noticed the door being locked during the middle of the day. Business had been slow and if anybody did ask he would just say he had personal business for a few moments and that should put a stop to any further inquiry.

Lank and homely with narrow eyes and a Roman nose, Ike was extremely intelligent, always civil if not a bit too passive, and was able to seem interested in his customers even when they bored him with their domestic stories when he sacked their groceries. Could they not understand he just wanted to do his job in peace and quiet? The women (who made up the vast majority of his customers) all seemed to want to tell Ike about their kids, their hair, their silly husbands. Ike just smiled and nodded his familiar, if ungainly, head. "Get moving, get moving!" he shouted silently in his mind while he smiled at the customer.

As Ike turned away from the front door he looked at the spot and picked up a solitary black hair from the wooden floor and with his usual acute tidiness he casually dropped the hair into a half-full trash can, emptied the trash into a larger can and then took that can to the dumpster. He was strangely calm. His heart rate was back to normal. His hands betrayed no tremor. Even his mind seemed serene, almost peaceful. He should have done this a long time ago, he thought. It was liberating. An involuntary "Ha!" surprised him as it left his lips and spawned another half-giggle as a reaction to it.

He caught a glimpse of a figure outside and looked up to see young Marilyn run past his door laughing at the dog nipping at her heels. Ike felt almost as carefree and innocent as the little girl running in circles in his parking lot. He knew Marilyn from the neighborhood. Her mother often brought her and sometimes several other kids into the store and he did not usually mind since they were all well-disciplined. He opened the door and with oddly patient repetition called her name and invited her in.

Marilyn sighed and walked to the door, canine companion in tow. Ike was surprised that she did not ask to bring the dog into the store but assumed correctly that she knew better.

"Sit down right there, Teddy. I'll be out in a minute. Ok? Good boy!"

At this point Ike felt like he could have welcomed anyone into the store and not have to worry about his cryptic concealment. The dirty deed had been cleaned up, evidence obliterated and his conscience almost absolved. He smiled what nearly felt like a genuine smile as she traipsed in.

"Mr. Ike", she said, "Do I have enough here for a gallon of milk and a piece of candy?" She held out an open hand that had clenched a dollar bill.

"Yes, Marilyn, I think you do." Ike said generously.

Marilyn beamed and skipped over to the candy aisle just a few feet from the spot. Ike's heart gained a couple of beats but he stifled his worry with the fact that she was paying attention to nothing that was not sugar-filled. Ike watched as Marilyn scanned each confection-filled container. He found himself nervously pacing behind the counter watching the girl with one eye as he walked and realized that he was needlessly working himself into anguish as she lollygagged. He knew that there was nothing incriminating in all the store much less to the eyes of a candy-starved school girl.

Ike tried to busy himself with tidying up around the cash register, his mind now unfortunately ablaze with self-questions and insecurity. He had left nothing to chance and had been agonizingly thorough in his clean up and disposal. Why worry? He checked the status of the girl's decision and heard a low, invariable thud coming steadily from her direction. He imagined the girl softly tapping her foot but could see little movement in her legs at all except to slowly slide to the next choice of candy.

The noise continued its rythmic cadence as Ike felt compelled to walk around the counter and have a closer look. Marilyn was now standing exactly on the spot and he felt sure she would hear the noise and ask him about it but she concerned herself only with the all-important conclusion of candy-buying.

Ike realized that he was sweating and tried unsuccessfully to calm himself. He walked over to the door and opened it and took a gulp of fresh air but continued to hear the confounded beating. It was ridiculously loud and he knew now that Marilyn heard it. How could she not? She was not deaf and yet she wandered around the store with a mocking imperviousness that started to anger Ike. Why did she not just ask him? The noise was almost unbearable now. Ike winced with each beat and grew more and more agitated. He was about to yell at Marilyn to get out of the store when there was a commotion outside that even the child acknowledged.

Golden shoes, Golden Globes

Sometimes when a man's alone, all you got are your dogs and they meant the world to me.

--Mickey Rourke, during his acceptance speech for Best Actor at the Golden Globes.

Also:

She’s like a giant Xanax, you know? I’m not going to get religious...but I truly believe God created dogs for a cause. They are the greatest companions a man could ever have.

Storytime in parts

--Part I--

Circa 1955. Smalltown, Pennsylvania

Milk was hard to keep in the house with so many kids around. It seemed like the refrigerator was always being opened and closed and mouths were being opened and closed and growing children especially wanted and needed milk. Not that it was expensive. Mom always thought she was buying enough for the week, but the demand seemed to grow in proportion to the supply.

"Marilyn!...Marilyn!! Come here!"

Marilyn was called because she was the closest child when Mom realized they were out of milk again.

"Yes, Mama?"

"Marilyn, I need you to run up to Ike's and get a gallon of whole milk. Look at the date and get the one with the latest date on it. Understand?"

"But, Mama, I was playing with Teddy and we were about to go exploring. Don't make me go to Ike's! I was..."

"Take Teddy with you, then. I don't care. Just go now. I need the milk to cook dinner tonight. Go on."

Marilyn knew better than to argue too much and since she could take Teddy maybe it wouldn't be all bad. Teddy was the best dog ever. He was a collie; well-built and sturdy for rough-housing but good with kids and best with Marilyn. Rarely was one not thinking about the other. He was good company when company was needed. He had come to live with them when the next door neighbors had moved out and left him in the back yard by himself. Marilyn's father said they could keep him over night until somebody else could be found to take him but Teddy had never left and everybody including Teddy seemed to like the arrangement.

The two took off for the store in no hurry. There was too much to see and do along the way and besides, surely Mom wasn't too serious about being in a hurry to get the milk or she would have gone herself. It was just down the street and around the corner and between Teddy and Marilyn there might even be some fun to be had. Little did either one know what a trip to the grocery store held for them today.

My wife doesn't understand me.

Seven years I've invested and it has come to this. She doesn't understand. She doesn't have a clue about how I feel and how it hurts that she won't even try. I have tried to explain myself but she makes me feel bad when I try. She makes me feel that my wants and needs are not real and that I'm wrong for thinking I have them. She says I'm wrong, weird and even unpatriotic. Can you believe it?

Well, I can't help it. My needs are real and if I want to do certain things, does that make me less of a human than she is? Does that make me unpatriotic? Does that make me wrong? I mean just because I enjoy Mexican Inn tortillas so much that I want to roll myself up in buttered cornmeal, does that make me wrong? If I happen to have enjoyed the delicate goodness of Bosses Meatlovers pizza so much that I want a ham hat and a bacon vest, does that mean I don't love my country? Ok, maybe homemade brownie underwear would be problematic but if that makes me wrong...I don't want to be right!

Why Storytime?

Friedrich Nickerbocker, when asked what his story was meant to prove...

"That there is no situation in life but has its advantages and pleasures - provided we will but take a joke as we find it."

Wink at the camera, Andre!

I once had a friend whose dog liked to watch TV. It got into a fight and lost one eyball. I said that the good news was that the dog only watched half as much TV anymore. Now this guy has saved the taxpayers some money because now we can take the TV out of his cell.

I have C.B.A.

Well, I don't think it is going to kill me (much to the chagrine of some readers) but I'm pretty sure I have another disease. And it is a disease! I watch enough lawyer shows on TV to know that all addictions are basically diseases because we just can't help ourselves. We cannot cure ourselves of these insideous maladies no matter how hard we try. Because I have tried to stop, and have failed, I now qualify as diseased. I don't have the willpower or the mental fortitude to refuse and so now I qualify for government funding and probably some kind of drugs. I haven't pursued it further yet but the first step is admitting you have a problem, I know that.

My ailment is C.B.A, better known as Chronic Book Addiction. I'm addicted to buying books. My disorder is especially heinous in that it is both hereditary and cultural. My father's C.B.A. is in its final stages and he doesn't even recognize that he is infected. He has a Stage 3 library and has no more room in his house to store any more books although he keeps buying them. His non-fiction count is extremely high and although he says he can quit anytime, the family all knows better. His bookshelves won't last much longer. It also is so ingrained in our culture that our society almost encourages it. There is a Border's or a Barnes and Noble on nearly every corner and a public library in even the smallest towns and we continue to turn a blind eye toward this obsession.

Just today I found a Half Price Books in a part of town I would never have expected. I was just driving by minding my own business when I saw it in the strip center sitting there like the foul temptress it is. I couldn't help myself. There were so many books! And they were half price! Some, I hate to admit were even cheaper. I felt so dirty leaving there with my two grocery sacks full of books, some even made to listen to in the car while driving. I bought four Tom Clancy's, for pete's sake! Somebody stop me! Stop the madness before it's too late! I'll never read all the books I have right now and the sad part is that if I were honest I could tell you that I am looking forward to buying again. My only hope is that Obama will bail me out of this horrible pox and I can hold my head up with pride.

C.B.A. is a disease that we can conquer if we all pull together. No longer will we be outcasts, untouchables if you will, (never touch me) with burning desires for dangerous hard-backs or rare finds. I pledge to stop buying books but I need your help. Just send in your non-tax-deductible gift to this blog immediately and I will research ways to quit buying books with my money. And please hurry. There is a first edition O. Henry I have my eyes on that would look great above my desk.

Deathly serious -- putting the fun back in funeral

I don't know what has made me think about this lately but I feel the need to express my last wishes. Ok, not the last wishes I ever have but, you know, my wishes for when I'm gone. Well, not when I'm really gone because if I'm gone I can't really wish for anything but, anyhow, wishes for my funeral. I'm not dying, at least not any faster than anyone else, I just want to be prepared.

The details of what is said and sung at my funeral are not all that important to me, actually. There are lots of good old hymns that might be appropriate or maybe some worship songs could be sung by friends who do that kind of thing. It's a tough question to answer when asked what one wants people to say at your funeral. He was nice. He was a good guy. He didn't sweat much for a fatty. Whatever. Hopefully that part will be short.

What I want is a party! Seriously, a fun party! I don't want people to leave thinking about how much they are going to miss me. I want 'em to leave thinking about what a fun funeral that was. My sister said years ago that she wanted everybody at her funeral to wear shorts and eat pizza! What a great idea! Maybe if I die first I can steal her idea. What's she gonna say?! But if not, I'll have to go with everybody wearing funny hats and singing karoake. How about that? Yes, I want karaoke in the church by my casket with the lid up so I can hear it! It's my funeral and you better do it, or else!

Storytime

----Stupid Boys----

Several years ago I found myself in the unenviable position of teaching Sunday School to a bunch of four and five year olds. I don't remember why I was asked to do the job. Evidently all of the qualified parishioners were unable at the time or were taking a well-deserved break. However it happened, I wound up in a large room with about a dozen heel-biters and only my intelligence and wisdom to see me through the hour. I nearly died.

Actually, not all of the kids were acting up. The girls were all being very sweet as they braided each others' hair and shared baby dolls and took turns with coloring books. They waited patiently as the boys would steal their toys and pull their hair and tried to pull up their frilly dresses. I followed the boys around the best I could and just repeated the words "stop it" and "put that down" as often as possible. No wonder nobody wanted this job. Stupid boys!

Finally, I had an idea. I somehow managed to corral most of them into a circle and with extreme effort got them to all sit down. I rolled a ball to the first little girl and asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. "I want to be a princess", said the little cherub as she gently rolled the ball back to me. Wow! I'm a genius! I have their attention. I am engaging their little brains and their hands at the same time and it's working. I rolled the ball to the next little girl and asked her the same question. "I want to be a teacher" she said sweetly. "Oh, that's great, Becky" I gushed. "You'll be a great teacher!"

Then I rolled the ball to the little demon-spawn of a boy sitting next to the future teacher and before I could even ask him the question, he grabbed the ball and jumped up shouting, "I want to be a pee pee man! I want to be a pee pee man!" and then every boy in the circle jumped up screaming about being pee pee men as the girls just rolled their eyes and went back to hair braiding.

Sounds like some of my old rides...

From craigslist: I have a homemade bike me and my brother built many years ago. Runs and drives but the back tire kind of rides sideways. The seat blew out a few years ago and I made do with a sofa cushion, duct tape and a couple of 2x 4's ( the ultimate fix! ). It runs like a champ but does smoke alot especially if you are hard on the gas. Uses about a quart of oil for each gas fillup. I usually just put the oil directly in the gas as it is going to burn it anyway and that way it is easy. Can't drive over 12 miles or so at a time as the motor gets red hot and starts loosing power so probably a good bike for someone who drives locally. Does backfire and squeel pretty loud occasionally so I usually wear earplugs of some kind. DOES NOT pass emmissions so would need to be registered in a county without emmisions check. Great first bike otherwise!


h/t bb

Go Sooners!

Some of my friends went to the big game...

What's a hamas?

Why do I get the feeling Obama doen't have a clue about what's going on in the Middle East?