The Times

Motivational thought for the day because I care: Cum catapultae proscriptae erunt tum soli proscript catapultas habebunt...(Translation-When catapults are outlawed, only outlaws will have catapults). ...and this note to a very small number of my acquaintances: Please, your sixty years old. Lose the tattered olive greens, and file 13 your rotten boots with the tennis shoe laces. The war is over. We lost!

It's another beautiful day in the neighborhood *whistling*.

Next week is Thanksgiving week and it carries some deep, personal meaning for me, as I'm sure it does for most of you. It's the week that many of college football's oldest and most heated rivalries "duke" it out on the turf. A week of bloody hell fought between arch enemies in front of millions of viewers.
 
Thanksgiving week also signifies some very sad events in history as well. The pop up thermometer was inserted into the first turkey. Somewhere down the line someone decided to stuff a turkey with all kinds of crap! Because of that Stove Top stuffing was developed. That's sad. Tradition from a box...
 
Then the most hideous, grotesque thing of all was born from Thanksgiving in the name of tradition. The dreaded "turducken"! Nothing but ten pounds of pure fat and grease in a smoking pan. Are you nuts?! Fried turkey? Sure it's good...I just don't like running the risk going up in flames all in the name of tradition. 

That's just me, and what do I know? I know that college football is winding down. Now that's sad! You keep your turkey and overstuffed family in an undersized room. I'll stick to ham sandwiches and beer, and of course, a little college football. There's nothing sad about that.

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Obama's Home Teleprompter Malfunctions...

The Onion has provided an inside story of the Obama White House that you would never get anywhere else...except here. Again, thanks to The Onion for a little Saturday jam.





Obama's Home Teleprompter Malfunctions During Family Dinner

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Anal Glands...Pass The Orange Juice Please

I wrote a post over a year ago centered around a very serious and common problem. Butt skids-canine butt skids specifically. It was brought to my attention again that one of the chief causes of a dog doing butts skids is it's anal glands.

A local radio station has a one hour weekly show with a veterinarian as co-host. Callers call the doc and ask their pet questions, er...questions about their pets. Tuesday morning a lady called the station and asked the vet why her cocker spaniel constantly rubbed his ass across her carpet.

The vet asked her if she ever noticed the dog's anal glands being swollen. I don't know about you, but under no circumstances am I going to analyze a dog's anus. The vet said that she could take it to her veterinarian, and he could check it's anal glands if she didn't want to do that. Shit...seriously? 

He went on to tell her that all the vet would do if they are inflamed is to "express" them. You mean like Federal Express? I was like, "express them to who?" Where the hell would you send your dogs anal glands, and why would you want to get them there in a hurry?

I did about 10 seconds of research into the word "express". There it was in black and white. "To squeeze or press out, as juice from an orange."  Huh? Who the hell wants orange juice now?! I'll never be able to look at Anita Bryant again without thinking of anal glands. Thanks doc...!

As Anita once proclaimed, "A day without orange juice is a day without sunshine-and anal glands".

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I Want My Book Back Bitch!

I have some bad news for all of you that have been anxiously awaiting the release of what was certain to be a wildly popular best seller. My book scheduled to be released next month, Going Rogue, was instead released under the same name by Sarah Palin today. After all of the moose jerky and comic books I sent her, this is the thanks I get. Hell, I even sent her baby a custom made drool towel and matching drool cup...!

My book was written solely with Christmas in mind. Not so much the general holiday, but specifically about Santa himself and his decision to declare his homosexuality to the children of the world. I spent several months undercover to expose Santa. Hear that kids? Santa is a fag! That's right kids! Santa plays the skin flute!

I often said that if anyone wants to see who Santa really is they should look no further than Barney Frank. Just my opinion...doesn't matter now. Not since I saw my grandmother taking a crap has my penis been so limp. Damn you Sarah! Damn you!

So now you know who the real Sarah Palin is...a deceitful, meat eating, seal clubbing bitch. She stole my book and my future. I already had in mind the stars of Going Rogue-Ain't Half Bad, the movie based on my book. Hillary Clinton as Santa and Rosie O'Donnell as Barney Frank. Perfect! Damn you Sarah!  

 

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America's Store And The Case Of The Adolescent Arson

I walked into America's Store yesterday. As I made my way back into the parking lot, I noticed two fire trucks and their crews standing around something smoking. It was in the general direction of my car, and I immediately thought, "Shit, did I leave the oven on?" No, but a young kid's car was burned to a royal black, crispy, crunchy, charcoal mess.

I closed in on the main attraction when I overheard one kid say to a buddy, "That mother wasn't worth a match!" Uh, what? Now that could have been just an innocent remark simply meaning the car was worthless, or...arsonist at work.

Then I overheard one fireman exclaiming to another that it looked like wiring under the hood was cut, but that he wouldn't know until they took a closer look after it was towed and retrieved surveillance tape from the store. Did I witness the aftermath of a crime?

My main concern was for the cars parked next to the burned out hulk. Actually, I didn't give a shit about them, but I thought I would interject some compassion here.

It just goes to show you that if you are a teenager even a trip to Wal*Mart for cookies and milk *farting* can have disastrous consequences. I'll bet they left the oven on...?

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Fishnets With Holes And Other Signs Of Psychosis

I am not the type of person who scares easily or watches my back as though I'm may be jumped by the boogie man. I'm not afraid of big, ugly mean guys who drool or a hot chick with a frigid personality. Not too much at all really bothers me to the point I am genuinely concerned.

However, there are a few people that cause me to raise an eyebrow. Not so much the psycho that is so blatantly obvious about being a nut case that he may as well be wearing a sign stating he's Norman Bates' nephew. The not-so-obvious crazies that look and act like the person next door are the troublesome ones to me.

Here are a few of the scariest people I know:
 *The kid down the street who is always bragging about working at Wal*Mart and refuses to leave the loading dock when his shift is over. You bother me kid.
 *The person who is always smiling...potential shooter...bothers me.
 *Anyone that says, "Praise Jesus" after running over the neighbor's dog must be watched.
 *A guy referred to as Skippy during his eulogy even though he was seventy five years old when he died...unnerving.
 *A woman who wears fishnet stockings with holes in them. No shit! Seriously, holes in fishnets! Why? Make it easier for the crabs to escape? Irritating.
 *Somebody wanting to "borrow" a dime for a phone call. Totally out of touch.
 *My 45 year old neighbor who jams to Nickleback and Daltry at 1:00a.m.-alone!
 *A person who wants to know my name by asking everyone but me. Something fishy going on there.
 *Anybody else that I've not mentioned that looks away when I look at them. Paranoid behavior is always a reason to keep a loaded gun.
 *A person who says, "cunt" instead of "can't". Please, take a risk and go for your G.E.D.

Is it just me or are you a bit bothered by some folks ability to slip in under your radar? I generally think that I'm a pretty good judge of people because I have a lot of experience judging them. Sometimes though I can totally miss the mark and a weirdo creeps into my world. Scary!

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