We'll Never Get Out of Here Alive (And Short Shrift Saturday #24)

This Bellagio place is huge. We cannot find our way anywhere. We will not get out of here alive.

Fortunately, we don't need to. There are 19 (nineteen) restaurants and 26 shops. Plus, of course, places to sleep. So once you are in here, you are not leaving. The exits to the doors are manned by animals like this one.

It is a swell place, though, so thinking about trying to get out is a little rambunctious. For instance, take a look at the Conservancy, which has Chihully glass and 10,000 flowers.

This is part of what Chihully has wrought. It is free to look at. Everything else costs at least $4.75. I found abalone on a menu: A cool $88.

On the plane here,
Vicki got to sit next to a guy who weighed in at 485 pounds. The only reason she knows this is because he told her he used to weigh 827, and he was proud of how much weight he had lost.

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My favorite word today is lose. Adj., tighten the screws, boys. Def.: The only logical end to a sentence that starts out "How much did you?"

A Streetcar Bell Named Desire

Upon hearing that her elderly grandfather had passed away, Thelma went straight to her grandparents' house to visit her 95-year-old grandmother, and comfort her. When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, "He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning."

Horrified, Thelma told her grandmother that two people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble.

"Oh, no, dear," said granny. "Many years ago, realizing our advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm -- nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous, simply in on the Ding, out on the Dong."

She paused to wipe away a tear. "He'd still be alive if the ice cream truck hadn't come along."

(This little gem is from my pal The Pirate.)

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Okay, how about one from Huw:

A bus carrying a group of nuns crashed, killing all on board. At the pearly gates, St. Peter asks: "Before you are granted entry to heaven, have any of you ever touched a man's genitals?"

A nun, shamefacedly, raises her hand. "I once put my finger on some." And St. Peter says, "Wash that finger in this bowl of holy water, and you may enter."

The next nun pipes up: "I once touched some genitals with my hand." And St. Peter says, "Wash your hand in the holy water, and you may enter."

Suddenly there is a commotion as Sister Marie pushes and her way from the back of the queue. "What is the meaning of this?" inquires St. Pete.

Sister Marie explains: "I want to wash my mouth out before Sister Bernadette washes her cooter."

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My favorite word today is son-deip-faran-Y-Gfret. N., huh? Def.: A Welsh word meaning "will-meet-at-HeavensGate-for-kidney-sauce-whether-the-glue-sets-in-the-inkwell-two-inches-wide."

Las Vegas, Here I Come

Today is the day I go to Las Vegas for a mini-convention of b**ggers. Among others, I will be meeting Vicki; Kira and her fiance, Alex; Mandy and her pal, Paul, and Tom. All fine fettles.

The purpose of this is for me to teach them how to write us all to get drunk and doobied. Then, after that, I am going to Michigan to see Vicki and her husband, Rich, then I am going to Tennessee to see Poopie, and then to Texas to see Tisha and her husband, Walt, and their progeny. I will try to post. Maybe I won't. Surely I will. Possibly.

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In a Texas Air Control Tower:

Dallas ATC: "Tower to Saudi Air 911 -- You are cleared to land eastbound on runway 9R."

Saudi Air: "Thank you Dallas ATC. Acknowledge cleared to land on infidel's runway 9R. Allah be praised."

Dallas ATC: "Tower to Iran Air 711 -- You are cleared to land westbound on runway 9R."

Iran Air: "Thank you Dallas ATC. Acknowledge cleared to land on infidel's runway 9R. Allah is great!"

Static....

Iran Air: "DALLAS ATC! DALLAS ATC!"

Dallas ATC: "Go ahead Iran Air 711?"

Iran Air: "YOU HAVE CLEARED BOTH OUR AIRCRAFT FOR THE SAME RUNWAY, GOING IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS!!! WE ARE ON A COLLISION COURSE!!! INSTRUCTIONS PLEASE!!!"

Dallas ATC: "Well bless your hearts. Y'all be careful now, and tell Allah 'hey' for us, ya hear?"

(Moral: Don't mess with Texas.)

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My favorite word today is bumper. N., I never noticed this before. Def.: That rubber or plastic goodie found on the underside of your toilet seat.

Memes Is Running Out My Ears

Here's another meme. I jump all over these because otherwise I have nothing. Just like you. I got this from Carolyn and Angie.

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I AM: the words that follow "I think, therefore"
I WANT dung beetles that work independently.
I WISH bone.
I HATE having to get up to go pee.
I MISS the toilet, most of the time.
I FEAR the cleaning lady is going to be pissed.
I HEAR, thanks to hearing aids.
I WONDER how many more there are of these.
I REGRET knowing how horny you are.
I AM NOT just another pretty face.
I DANCE to the slower drummer.
I SING: Oh, bullshit.
I CRY whambo mo jambo, Tarzan love Jane.
I AM NOT ALWAYS never forthright.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS fart sounds.
I WRITE, therefore I am?
I CONFUSE my enemas.
I NEED a new prostate.
I SHOULD get laid if I had a new prostate.
I START laughing before you get to the punch line because I've heard it before.
I FINISH drinking long after you do.

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Save the earth. It's the only place that has chocolate.

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Some young guys use this line: "Want to go get a pizza, then screw?" Usually the answer is "No." Then the guys say: "Whatsa matter? Don't like pizza?" (--Courtesy of Sudiegirl.)

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My favorite phrase today is I'll be go to hell. Adj., and you will. Def.: The concealed pasture three miles across that lies between you and what you thought was the top of the hill.

This Won't Be Pretty

I been in communication with this dame who thinks writing a b**g about writing a b**g would be enlightening. I don't think so. Let's see:

Hoss awakens at 6:45 a.m., and wonders whether to have breakfast, read the paper, or write the b**g. Goes and takes leak instead.

Having read the newspaper, I am still adrift for a topic. These things came to mind:

1. Beat up on Dubya.
2. Beat up on the Duke lacrosse team.
3. Beat up on the oil barons.
4. Rewrite Aesop's Fables.

Hoss awakens at 10:15 a.m., having had his power nap. Feels empowered. Is actually powerless. So he powers down.

I checked out several magazines for a topic. National Geo is short on boobies. Discovery is short on discoveries. Oregon Realtor is long on $500,000 homes. And so the decision is made to write about mad cow disease.

Shit. You don't know anything about cows, insane or not. This is not going to work. Overs.

So I go all Instant Messenger to the dame mentioned above. She says, "You know, it's funny, but have you noticed how Thanksgiving always falls on a Thursday?"

Gee, out of the mouths of babes. (And, boy, do I mean babe. Hoo boy.) So now I'm set for a topic -- the start of the Christmas season.

Tomorrow I will be writing about Christmas. Perhaps.

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My favorite word today is worry. N., toil and trouble. Def.: Descriptive of what you're doing about tomorrow and today isn't even over yet.

Hoss Gets to Do Another Meme. Hoo Boy.

Hoo boy. Blogger wasn't working until just now (10:45 a.m. PST). So it goes.



I forgot where I got this meme. If I remember, I will tell you. Maybe.

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4 Jobs I have had:
Newspaperman
Soccer mom
Dung beetle herder
Linguini

4 movies I would watch over and over:
Why do they always put movies in this shit?
King Kong, and that's it.

4 places I have lived:
Bend, Oregon
Salem, Oregon
Alamo, California
Hell and Back

4 TV shows I love to watch:
Baseball
Football
Basketball
Ma and Pa Kettle

4 places I have been on vacation:
Here and There
Florida Keys
Panama Canal Locks
Combination Lock

4 web sites I visit daily:
Outside In
Tisha
Lois Lane
The other 110 of you

4 of my favorite foods:
Escargot
Manna
Peanut Butter and Jam
Butterflied Pork Strudel

4 places I would rather be right now:
Reincarnated as the Pope
Reincarnated as a dung beetle
Either of the above
With you

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My favorite phrase today is open, sesame. N., it IS open, isn't it? Def.: The area between overhangs that you have to cross when it's raining.

Short Shrift Saturday #22

You hear about the animal trainer and his wife? Bonnie and Claude. (Get it? Bonnie and Claude!! Ho ho har de har har. No? Think, think.....)

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You hear about the kid in the projects? "Little Red Riding Hood."

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"Sure it's going to kill a lot of people, but they may be dying of something else anyway." -- Member of Texas board of pesticides, on chlordane.

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Look here. Oregon has fewer believers than anybody. I'll be go to hell.

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My favorite word today is flirt. N., hey, over here! Def.: Someone trying to communicate with tropical fish in an aquarium by tapping on the tank.

I'm a Little Teapot, Short and Stout

This is my handle, this is my spout. See, I didn't have a title for today, so....

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I know you are plenty busy, but take just a few seconds to visit this here fella, Pluto's Bubblemans'. He is short on verbiage but long on cartoons. Usually, every two-four days he posts a brand new, self-done cartoon like these. All come with guaranteed merriment.

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Down there in Oakland, Calif., police have picked up the faint trail of weed wrapped in candy. I wish I had thought of it. Here are some swell names for the new product: Pot Tarts, Double Puff Oreo, Puff-a-Mint Patties, Toka-Cola, and -- my favorite -- Buddafingers.

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In a Japanese hotel, this sign: "You are invited to take advantage of the chambermaids." And this one: "Please to bathe inside the tub."

In an Austrian hotel catering to skiers: "Not to perambulate in the corridors in the hours of repose in the boots of ascension."

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A day without sunshine is, like, night.

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My favorite word today is ghost. N., with or without sheet, one of the top three. Def.: One of Jesus's buddies.

I Couldn't Resist Telling You This

Boy howdy! This is so good. I am going to share with you just part of a story told by Ozguru about the Easter season:

St. Peter is guarding the gates to Heaven. Approacheth same is the latest applicant. St. Pete says, "One small test, son. Tell me, what is Easter?"

Applicant: "I know what Easter is. Easter is the Christian holiday that coincides with the Jewish celebration of Passover. Jesus and his apostles were eating at the last supper when he was deceived and turned over to the Romans by one of his apostles. The Romans took him to be crucified, and he was stabbed in the side and made to wear a crown of thorns. He was hung on a cross. He was buried in a nearby cave, which was sealed off by a large boulder. Every year the boulder is moved aside so that Jesus can come out, and if he sees his shadow there will be six more weeks of winter."

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More: A farm boy goes to an Easter egg hunt. When he arrives home he decides to play a joke on his parents. He goes into the chicken coop and replaces all the eggs under the hens with his colored eggs.

A few minutes later the rooster walks into the coop, takes one look at the eggs, and goes out and beats the hell out of the peacock....

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My favorite word today is sheep. N., 99, 98, 97, 96... Def.: Something made of wool. (Thanks, Missy).

Dear Dr. Hoss: Help Me

It is apparent that I need to do something to Make My Pile, and so I have decided to adopt the idea presented to me by Big Dave: Help out you people what needs help. This means I am going to become an Advice Communist, which you people who ask for my advice will have to pay for because I need the money. Here are samples of my advisories:

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Dear Dr. Hoss:

My wife thinks that I am kind of boorish -- maybe even unnecessary. What can I do to convince her that I am worthy and stuff? --Penrod Plentiful, Tribune, Alaska.

Dear Penrod: Probably what you need is a French tickler. Send $18.75.

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Dear Dr. Hoss:

The guys at work are always teasing me because I wear women's pantyhose to work. How can I make them stop? --Girlie G. Pansy, Texarkana, Tex.

Dear Pansy: You have overestimated me. That will be $10.95.

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Dear Dr. Hoss:

My girls are straight A students at Misfitting High, but now they want to get into the band. What instrument do you recommend? --Wonder Afar, Belgium, Okla.

Dear Afar: Skin flute. Pay $23.00 through Pay Pal.

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Dear Dr. Hoss:

When I go to singles' bars, I always seem to be "odd man out." What now? --Edison Dogood, Blessed, Me.

Dear Edison: Quit going to singles' bars. $19.95, please.

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My favorite word today is shark. N., ooo what big teeth you have. Def.: Fantasizing about lawyers.

Come Visit, But Don't Stay

Hoo boy. My Iowa lass has turned up, safe and sound. Thanks for your nice thoughts.

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In the 1970's, a friend of mine launched an organization named the James G. Blaine Society. I got in early, as Member No. 6.

James G. Blaine, you will certainly recall, was a Republican candidate for President who accused the Democrats of being "the party of rum, Romanism, and rebellion." What that got for him was the loss of New York, and the loss of the presidency.

So why it was named the James G. Blaine Society is not clear to me, but I do know that it had a purpose: To hide Oregon's many charms from other people. We had a motto in keeping with our vaunted reputation for rain: "Oregonians don't tan; they rust." We had a spokesman: Writer Stewart Holbrook, who campaigned against unplanned population growth and development in the Pacific Northwest. (He also campaigned against the phrase "skid row," which was really "skid road.")

And later on, we had a true champion: Governor Tom McCall, who said in a speech to a ton of industrialists: "Come visit Oregon again and again. It IS a state of excitement. But then go home. Fix up your own state."

McCall's point was that people were moving around trying to find better living conditions "that they then would trash, again."

So Oregon has a fine land use planning law. Its beaches are all owned by the public. Our water is clean. The sky is blue. Come visit. Then go home.

(This doesn't count if you're really nice.)


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My favorite word today is average. Adj., does it get any better? Def.: What half the people are not as smart as.

Tom Cruises the Silent Movies

You people who are not members of the Church of Scientology, L. Ron Hubbard Branch, probably do not know what a "silent birth" is. You people who go to movies probably do know who Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes Branch, is. Well, they are all one and the same.

Tom wants Katie, his girlfriend, to have a "silent birth" so their newborn won't be all tainted when he comes into the world. See, I think he means that if somebody in the birthing room says anything, like, say, "pretzels," the kid will be born with a twisted sense of humor.

Here are some other things not to say when a "silent birth" is going on:

"I wonder if he'll have lips."
"What's the ratio of hermaphrodites born in this hospital?"
"Who's the father, Tom?"

So, here we are in labor and the doctor wants Katie to push. He can't just say "push," so he grabs Tom and humps his leg. Katie doesn't get it. He extends his arms and leans against the wall and does push-ups. Katie doesn't get it. He yells "PUSH, YOU DUMB BROAD."

Katie pushes. Seventeen years later on the corner of Hollywood and Vine, young Tom Cruise Jr. is pushing drugs.

The moral of the story is: If you want a "silent birth," marry an expert in charades.

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My favorite word today is Tom Cruise. N., cruisin' down the river. Def.: Eccentric.

No Shrift Sunday

You know what's wrong with this picture? ALL THE DAMN EGGS ARE BROKE!!

Muzik Dude sent me this picture, which serves as his annual Easter message. I know that some of you might think it is in poor taste, what with a splattered bunny and all. However, you will recall that I said I wouldn't be posting on Sunday anymore, so what the hell are YOU doing here?

Hoss 1, Everybody Else 0.

Short Shrift Saturday #21

Happy Easter, boys and girls.

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"There is no food in the refrigerator. AND, there is no toilet paper in the bathroom," he whined.

"Good," she said. "This has worked out just right."

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People listen better when they can see themselves reflected in your sunglasses.

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Chris Cope had this to say:

"If a man really tries he can be what he wants to be, but sometimes a person just shouldn't be what they are."

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My favorite word today is diet. N., here we go again. Def.: A hopeless plan for losing weight.

K-K-K-Katy, Beautiful Katy

I have this b**g friend named Kathleen who spent six weeks in the slammer trying to get over anorexia. They (Iowa State University) were supposed to let her go last Thursday, but she has not been in contact.

So, Katy, either surface or I'm calling out the Mounties.

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When I was in Michigan they tried to ply me with "pasties." This is pronounced so as to rhyme with Hasborough, I think. Anyway, it is some baked goodie with insides made up of rutabagas, russets, and roadkill. (Later on this year, I will be checking with Tisha to see if Texas has anything to rival the pastie. I know they got a lot of roadkill armadillo, but I am not sure whether they got any rutabagas.)

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It is always darkest before the dawn. So if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.

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"He thought he had to be celibate to maintain the purity of his instrument, whereas I like to play mine from time to time." --Nicole Kidman, on why she divorced Tom Cruise.

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British motorsport commentator Murray Walker:

"With the race half gone, there is still half the race to go."

And:

"He's lost both right front tires."

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My favorite word today is diplomacy. N., wait right there. Def.: The art of saying "nice doggie" until you can find a rock. (--Will Rogers.)

Feelgood Feels His Oats

The knocking at the door is Feelgood Haines. I know this because he's one of those who gives you a signal (rap-rap, pause, rap-rap-rap, pause, one loud RAP). I start to say "Come in," but he is already in.

Feelgood: "Why didn't you tell me you was goin' off to the Midwest? I coulda told you a lot about it."

Hoss: "I'm sure you could, Feelgood, but I just went in my ignorance and hoped for the best."

Feelgood: "Did you know DeSoto was there lookin' for golden cities? But he died up, and so his buddies had to bury him in the Mississippi so the Indians wouldn't know he was dead on accounta they was kinda scared of the Indians."

Hoss: "I didn't see any golden cities, either. So what has this got to do with me?"

Feelgood: "So I guess you don't care about Coronado bein' there, either."

Hoss: "None of them Spanish guys ever slipped me any tortillas."

Feelgood: "Well, then, how about the land rush? President Roosevelt the First signed a bill that let people homestead, and the train brought thousands of folks to the borders so they could get in on the free land scam."

Hoss: "Are you talking about Michigan?"

Feelgood: "Hell, no, this is all about Oklahoma. Ain't that where you went? Christ, if you don't know where you're goin', how the hell am I gonna help you out?"

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My favorite word today is life. N., one thing after another. Def.: Three games of chess.

Part Two, the Traveling Man

Vicki handed me the annual report of the Nature Conserv-
ancy of Michigan. Pointing to a place called "Bete Grise," she says, "Momma did that."

Way high up on the tip of land called Keweenaw Peninsula is this property that Janet Avery fought to get included in the list of resources owned by Nature Conservancy, and she won. It has almost 1100 feet of Lake Superior frontage, which will always be held in reserve for the public.

This is the kind of thing that Bud Avery and his late wife, Janet, did for the last 25 years on the Keweenaw. Copper is "king" on the Peninsula, but when a mining company decided to go into business Bud and Janet fought like mashed cats. You know the kind of effluent copper mines have? How about acid?

We went to an Italian restaurant (VERY GOOD) for dinner and almost everybody in the place knew Bud (and Janet). So he's famous.

He also wants me to come back and go fishing when the black flies are out. He says fishing is no good in August when there are no flies, so you have to come in June. I say, "Does 'Off' work to keep the flies off of you?" And he says, "Not even shellac."

Saturday night Vicki got us into a game of cards -- Texas Hold 'Em. I went "all in" with a pair of threes. Bud had a pair of fours. Sheesh.

There will be a memorial service for Janet in May. Hundreds will attend.

This is only Wednesday, and I miss him (and Vicki) a lot.

(In the picture above, I am the pretty one. Ho ho, Bud.)

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My favorite word today is leak. N., mum's the word. Def.: What Bush gets Cheney to take.

Way Up Yonder in Yoopee

To make a 6:45 a.m. flight to Minnehaha, I had to leave from Salem, Ore., on a bus at 3:45 a.m. I said to myself, "This is bullshit," so I went back home and went to bed.

No I didn't. And it was probably a good thing because everywhere I go I bring great levity/dourness. What I did was I flew from Portland to Minneapolis, waited around counting my toes, then flew from Minnehaha to Hancock, Mich., where I was met by my new buddy, Eugene (Bud) Avery. His wife died about a month ago, and I went to the Upper Peninula (Yoopee) of Michigan to cheer me up. (That picture is of Jan and Bud in happier times.)

This flying is pretty good stuff because it also involves a lot of pushing me around. Since I have lung disease and can't breathe all that well, I walk into a terminal and yell "Help me!" and pretty soon, when they see I am on the floor gasping for air, somebody does. They plop me down in a wheelchair or put me on a golf cart and then go about a mile and half to where I can find a plane to Hancock. No kidding: This Minnehaha airport is so huge it would put Chicago to shame.

So I get there and Bud and I start cheering each other up: He had beer, and I some Jack Daniels that his wife had left behind. Funny thing about that Jack Daniels: When Bud's wife had to quit smoking she said she was going to start drinking to make up for it. Thanks, Janet.

So Bud also showed me a letter Janet had written to the Internal Revenue Service. It said, more or less, that "we are sick and tired and crippled and we don't have much money so we're not going to file our taxes anymore....If you figure out that you owe us, please send it along."

Bud is the step-father of my b**g buddy Vicki Bennett, who joined the party on Friday. Vicki is a doll, a b**g whiz with the patience of Job. She also is now in charge of Bud's taxes.

Did you know that Lake Superior is pretty damn big? You look yonder at the horizon and can't see nuthin' but horizon. And waves ripple along the shore, so it makes like it's an ocean, which I guess it could be except it doesn't have any salt or sharks.

Some other things happened too. I'll think about that.

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My favorite word today is impotence. N., sorry about that. Def.: Nature's way of saying no hard feelings. (--Courtesy of Tan Lucy Pez.)

O Bury Me Not

(Sports Fans: Get with this one today, and tomorrow Mr. Ol' Hoss will report on his trek to the Far North.)

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A cowgirl from Texarkana walks into a bar and orders three mugs of Bud. She sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When she finishes them, she comes back to the bar and orders three more.

The bartender tells her, "You know, a mug starts to go flat as soon as I draw it. It would taste better if you bought one at a time."

The cowgirl replies, "Well, you see, I have two sisters -- one in Australia and one in Dublin. When we all left our home in Oklahoma we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we drank together. So I'm drinking one beer for each of my sisters, and one for myself."

The bartender admits this is a nice custom, and leaves it at that.

The cowgirl becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way. She orders three mugs of beer, and sips from each one in its turn. But one day she comes in and only orders two mugs. All the regulars notice, and fall silent. When she comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss."

The cowgirl looks puzzled for a moment. Then a light dawns in her eyes and she laughs. "Oh, no, everybody's fine," she explains. "It's just that my husband and I joined the Baptist Church, and I had to quit drinking."

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My favorite word today is vegetarian. N., whoa bossy. Def.: If it can have children, don't eat it.

Been There, Heard That

Ole, a farmer in Minnesota, is in need of a new milk cow. He hears about one over in Nordakota so he drives over there to see.

Ole gets himself a milk stool, and reaches under the cow to see if she gives milk. When he grabs the teat and pulls, the cow farts. Ole is very surprised.

He looks at the farmer who is selling the cow, then, what the hell, he pulls another teat. Again, a fart -- but milk also comes. So after some discussion with the owner, Ole buys the cow and carts it home.

When he gets back to Minnesota, he calls over his neighbor, Sven, and says, "Hey, Sven, come and look at dis here new cow I yust bought. Pull her teat and see vat happens." Sven reaches under, pulls the teat, and the cow farts.

Sven looks at Ole and says, "You bought dis here cow in Nordakota, didn't yah?"

Ole is very surprised, since he hadn't told Sven about his trip. But, he replies, "Yah, dat's right, but how did you know?"

Sven responds: "My wife is from Nordakota."

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Health and Wellness Magazine: "Decide on the small changes that make a big difference in your appear." That's just what I need: Something to make a change in my appear.

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My favorite word today is war. N., give 'em hell, Harry. Def.: What old men decide to have, and young men do.

Into the Wild Blue Yonder

By the time anybody reads this (except for the insomniac) I will be way up yonder in the blue, en route to Yoopie. Since I am so short of breath from smoking, I have asked for assistance getting to and fro, and there and back. Then I will get on the aeroplane (escorted to my seat by a ravishing LA model who will want to exchange cell phone numbers) and go.

"Yoopie" is the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (U.P.), where lives Bud Avery, stepfather of my buddy Vicki Bennett. Bud's wife died in early March. Mine died in November. So we are going to cheer each other up and have a snowball fight. Bud lives almost all the way to Lake Superior (on the shore of Gratiot Lake), and he still has over 4 feet of snow. This is stuff that you can't get in Texas.

(I am going to ask the pilot how many miles to the gallon does he get. 2-1 he doesn't know.)

We land in Minneapolis (or St. Paul). The last time I was in Minneapolis I got hooked on a brandy drink that had hazel nuts floating in it. The next morning I awoke lying naked in the bathtub. (Here's my theory: I was afraid of hurling, so I wanted to leave my lunch somewhere decent. But, Sweet Jaysus, I made it to work that day!)

Vicki intends to join us the next day (Friday). I hope she feels welcome, but you know how a couple of old guys (75 and 78) can bond, and so there's not much hope. We might let her make the beer run.

I come home on Sunday. If I write anything on Friday or Saturday, you sure will get it because I know how much you count on me for rib ticklers. Just remember, though, I am now a "never on Sunday" kind of guy.

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My favorite word today is rest. N., don't bother me. Def.: Sleeping with one eye open to avoid being called lazy.

So Long, It's Been No Good to Know You

Back in the 1960's a reporter working for me got onto an odd case. A girl had turned up missing and he tried to figure out where she went. Some of his buddies pooh-poohed the idea, figuring she had just taken off with somebody and didn't bother to tell her folks.

"Jan wasn't like that," said her Mother. "She ALWAYS let me know where she is."

This time, she didn't, for she was at the bottom of the Long Tom River in Oregon. Her killer, Jerome (Jerry) Brudos, an electrician, also killed three other pretty, young women, for which he got life in the State Penitentiary.

Forward a few years: I am at the pen attending a meeting of the Lifers' Club. Jerry complains: "I was working the other day and the guy supervising me isn't an electrician. How can that be?"

Everybody ignores him. They all know he's an electrician, for the weights he used on the bodies were tied with a knot peculiar to one trade and which got him busted -- his.

Jerry died in the pen the other day. He had been there longer than anybody. So long, Jer'. Nobody will miss you.

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"Have you noticed that all the people in favor of birth control are already born?" --Benny Hill.

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My favorite word today is tragedy. N., well-known to Willie the Shake. Def.: Comedy at which nobody laughs.

Grunions and Scuttlebutt

So Melvin goes into the cutlery store and says, "Hi. What do you sell in here?"

The counter guy, miffed, says, "Horse's ass."

Melvin: "And doing a damn good job of it, too. They all appear to be gone."

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From some of the sites posted by Miss Cellania:

"Selective protection: If Albert Einstein were here, I think he would agree with me. Didn't he once say, 'If an idea does not at first seem absurd, it is probably incorrect.'"

Menu at a Swiss restaurant: "Our wines leave you nothing to hope for."

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From Born Fool:

"Does God allow dipping in Heaven?"

"You might be able to dip in Heaven, but you have to go to Hell to spit."

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From Crazed Mom:

"If the model looks bad in it, I know it will look bad on me.

"If the model looks good in it, I know it will look bad on me."

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My favorite word today is uncertainty. Adj., I'm not sure. Def.: If in doubt about life, eat the dessert first.

I Borrowed This Meme

Since I have no pride, I stole this meme from Thumper. (For the uninitiated, a "meme" has come to mean "an element of behavior or culture.") Notice that this is in A-to-Z form, so if you cheat and don't use all the letters, I will know it.

Accent -- None, but I wish I could talk south.
Booze of choice -- Bourbon, vodka, gin, Scotch, beer.
Chore I hate -- Feeding the dung beetles.
Dog or cat -- This is a hard one since I've only had dog. Does cat really taste like chicken?
Essential electronics -- Electric razor (?)
Favorite cologne -- Eau de Ed Norton.
Gold or silver? -- You're GIVING me some?
Hometown -- Where is George Mason from?
Insomnia? -- No. What is the word for "sleeps too much"?
Job title -- Squashing butt crack.
Kids -- 3: 1 beaut, 1 psycho, 1 weasel.
Living arrangement -- Small apartment (no, smaller than that).
Most admired trait -- People think it's pretty funny when I whistle through my nose. I can also wiggle my eyebrows.
Number of sexual partners -- One more than Wilt Chamberlain.
Overnight hospital stays -- Four. Did you know they charge for aspirin?
Phobias -- Claustro. I also am not keen on dying.
Quote -- "Boy howdy, that sucker stung." (I don't have an attribution for this, but I am pretty sure somebody once said it.)
Religion -- I don't care. Pick one.
Siblings -- One bro. Doesn't like Bush, either.
Time I wake up -- Let's see: Midnight, 3 a.m., 6:45 a.m., Noon, 2:30 p.m.
Unusual talent -- Did I say I can wiggle my eyebrows?
Vegetable I refuse to eat -- Cotton.
Worst habit -- Wiggling my eyebrows.
X-rays -- I hated to bite on those cardboard tooth thingies.
Yummy foods I make -- Cold cereal; Pop Tarts; PBJ.
Zodiac sign -- Libra. I am SO pretty and well-balanced.

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My favorite word today is statistics. N., mean, median, mode. Def.: What results from AIDS.

I Will Never Be Here on Sunday. Never

Did you know it is a lot of foofooraw to produce something for this space seven (7) days a week (7 days)? So I'm not going to do it anymore. See you on Monday.

Oh, well, here's a picture. (Poop.)

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And, I guess, my favorite word of the day, which is worry. N., what, me worry? Def.: Interest paid on trouble before it falls due. --Hal Roach.

Short Shrift Lagomania

Last month when I joined the Pez Family in celebration of Rabbit! Rabbit!, my picture was regarded as evil. So now then, how about this one? Huh?

(It is important to say Rabbit! Rabbit! at the first of each month so as to ensure you will have a full month's worth of luck. I didn't die during March, so you can see how this works.)

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"When I'm a blonde, I can say the world is purple, and they'll believe me because they weren't listening to me." --Kylie Bax.

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Milwaukie Brewers' Jim Lantner on where he went hunting: "One of those Canadian proverbs."

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My favorite word today is work. N., not today, thanks. Def.: A four-letter word.