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.

Meet Miss Perfect

Because April 1 is a Saturday, Momma K and Lucinda decided that the Perfect Posts for March should be announced today. Only the most flexible of us will be able to get this done, I imagine.

Perfection, a la Hoss, was done on March 13 by Vicki Bennett, a.k.a. OutsideIn. There, Vicki reports on the family attending the death of her mother in a Marquette, MI, hospital. And, bless her, she finishes up this tale with a little story at the expense of her cat, McCloud.

Take a trip and see what she has to say. Give her some back pats. And, if you have one on you, throw her a funny bone -- help her get over the sads.

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In my comments section yesterday, Karla pointed out that I had been nominated for Sexiest B**gger Alive. I went over to that site and found 72 persons (of 94) had voted for "Mr. Fabulous." Five had voted for Mr. Hoss.

Please do not vote for me. I think Mr. Fabulous is George W. Bush, and he needs all the votes he can get.

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My favorite phrase today is ow, ouch, damn! N., boy that smarts. Def.: Things I say while frying bacon in the nude.

Don't Bury the Survivors

Murphy has his son take him to the doctor, where he discovers he has cancer -- and not long to live. "Let's just go to the tavern and hoist a few pints," says Murphy.

After three or four pints the two were feeling better. There were some laughs and some more beers. They eventually were approached by a couple of Murphy's old pals, who asked what the two were celebrating.

"Ah," Murphy says, "you know the Irish -- celebrate both the good and the bad. The truth is, me boys, that I am dying of the AIDS." His pals give him their condolences and return to their seats.

After his friends left, Murphy's son leaned over and whispered his confusion. "Dad, I thought you told me you were dying of cancer. And you told them you are dying of AIDS."

Murphy says, "I am dying of cancer, son. I just don't want any of them sleeping with your mother."

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If I keep on walking around, I can save on funeral expenses.

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"Where else but in America could a poor black boy like Michael Jackson grow up to be a rich white woman?" --Red Buttons.

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My favorite word today is problems. N., I'll huff and I'll puff. Def.: Why you need solutions.

Life Is Like That

At the Jo Richardson compre-
hensive school in England, students are prohibited from raising their hands in class to keep those not called upon from feeling victimized.

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In the Upper Nile state of Sudan, a Mr. Tombe, as punishment for having sex with a goat, was required to care for the goat as if they were married. Australia's New Limited's website reported the story with a file photo of a goat, adorned with a black bar across its eyes to protect its privacy.

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"Doctor, I think I'm getting Alzheimer's."

"Why is that?"

"I keep forgetting to zip up."

"No," said the doctor. "Alzheimer's is when you forget to zip down."

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"Look, Paddy, there's a men's clothing store with men's suits for only $4.50!"

Paddy looks, and adds, "And look at that: Shirts for only $1. Let's go load up."

Paddy and Wilbur go into the store and order some clothes. The attendant says, "You guys are Irish, right?"

Paddy says, "Well, yeah, but how did you know?"

"This is a dry cleaners."

(The two previous items are from my buddy Peskie.)

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My favorite word today is perplexive. Adj., oddly cuddlesome. Def.: Descriptive of the charming guy who spreads HIV -- infectious, but nice. --Tisha.

I Am Not Here Today

I am not here because I am supposed to be over to the site of Follow That Star. I just checked, and damned if I ain't.

(My apologies to those of who tried to go to Follow That Star from the link above prior to 8:50 a.m. PST. It was a bad link. But thanks to Lois Lane, it is now perfect!!)

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Before you go, enjoy this piece of brilliance from Susie:

"Maybe wrinkles are the face's way of blogging."

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My favorite phrase today is wax job. N., you will love this, maybe. Def.: What happens to Chianti bottles in an Italian restaurant.

Old and In the Way

I saw Mabel Allgood tearing around the place the other day. She is going up to people, flipping her gown up, and saying "Supersex." She comes across Marvin Toosane, and says, "Supersex!" Marvin thinks, and says, "I'll have the soup."

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Passing by Millie Smith's door the other day, I hear her say on the phone to her beloved Herman: "Be careful out there, Herman. The radio says there's a car going the wrong way on Interstate 5."

Herman: "One car? Hell, it's more like hundreds."

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An elderly babe calls the cops. "Can you help me please! Somebody's been in my car and stolen the stereo, the steering wheel, the brake pedal, and even the accelerator."

A cop arrives, investigates, radios in to headquarters: "Disregard. She got in the back seat."

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My favorite word today is satyr. N., writer of a bodice ripper. Def.: A person whose heart is in his pelvic region.

Short Shrift Sunday #20

I got these dandies from my buddy
kenju. Ain't she nice?

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My favorite word today is spatial. Adj., a hitch in the get-along. Giving the impression of hurrying without altering your pace.

Short Shrift Saturday #20

Every now and then something pops up that grabs me by the short hair and gives me a good shakin'. I think I have seen this two places but can only remember one -- dddragon. So, anyway, go here to see some of the damndest juggling you ever did see.

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An anthropologist visits a native tribe to do some field work. The Chief welcomes him with great respect and invites him to a festive meal in his compound.

As they sit, the anthropologist asks: "This pot, what's cooking in it?"

The Chief, proud of his offering, says, "It's my mother-in-law."

The anthropologist recoils. "Oh, no, no. I couldn't possibly eat your mother-in-law. Please don't think me ungrateful or impolite, but I just couldn't."

"All right," says the Chief. "Then just eat the noodles."

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My favorite word today is circumferential. Adj., get a tongue around it, boy. Def.: What the police require you to say to prove you are not drunk.

I Said I Didn't Like Poetry

A couple of days ago, my Internet buddy Cananopie gave me a link to a poem about reincarnation because of my overweening interest in the subject. It is so good, that I thought I'd reprint it here. Hoo boy.




Reincarnation

by Wallace McRae


"What does reincarnation mean?"
A cowpoke asked his friend.
His pal replied, "It happens when
yer life has reached its end.
They comb yer hair, and warsh yer neck,
And clean yer fingernails,
And lay you in a padded box
Away from life's travails.
"The box and you goes in a hole,
That's been dug into the ground.
Reincarnation starts in when
Yore planted 'neath a mound.
Them clods melt down, just like yer box,
and you who is inside.
And then yore just begginin' on
Yer transformation ride.
"In a while the grass'll gro
Upon yer rendered mound.
Till some day on yer moldered grave
A lonely flower is found.
And say a hoss should wander by
And graze upon this flower
That once wuz you, but now's become
Yer vegatative bower.
"The posey that the hoss done ate
Up, with his other feed,
Makes bone, and fat, and muscle
Essential to the steed.
But some is left that he can't use
And so it passes through,
And finally lays upon the ground.
This thing that once wuz you.
"Then say, by chance, I wonders by
And sees this upon the ground,
And I ponders and I wonders at,
This object that I found.
I thinks of reincarnation,
Of life, and death, and such,
And come away concludin': Slim,
You ain't changed, all that much."

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My favorite word today is pick. N., the night sweats. Def.: The tool used by dentists to hurt you the most.

Scientists Say This Is 'Too Bad'

The Irish daughter had not been home for 5 years. Upon her return, her father swore at her: "Where have you been, you ingrate? You didn't write or call, not once."

The girl, crying, replied: "(sniff, sniff)...Dad, I became a prostitute."

"What??," says Dad. "Out of here, you harlot. You're a disgrace to your family. I never want to see you again."

"Okay, Dad. Would you please just give this deed for a luxury mansion to Mom, along with this savings certificate for $5 million? And give this Rolex to Rodney? And, for you, the new Merecedes convertible that's parked outside?"

Dad says, "Now hold on. What did you say you became?"

The girl replies, "(sniff, sniff) A prostitute."

"Oh lordy," says Dad. "You scared the bejesus out of me, girl! I thought you said 'a Protestant.' Come here and give your old man a hug."

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My favorite word today is bombast. N., can you hear me now? Def.: Talking loudly to the foreigners, hoping they will understand you better.

Yoopee

You all remember when my wife died, last November? Well, this has also happened to a buddy of mine, Bud Avery, who lives in the Upper Peninsula (Yoopee) of Michigan. WAY UP in the Yoopee, almost all the way to Lake Superior, where they still got 5 feet of snow.

Bud is the stepfather of my buddy Vicki. He doesn't b**g, but Vicki keeps him informed. But now Vicki has come up with the sads. And, of course, Bud has it, too, because his wife only died about 11 days ago.

So Ol' Hoss is going to fly to the Yoopee on April 6 and visit with Ol' Bud for awhile. Think of it: Two widowers with nothing to do but reminisce -- and then, maybe, chortle and chuckle. And sleep, which makes time go fast.

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So two Irishmen are the only survivors in a shipwreck. Floating helplessly in a lifeboat they come across a lamp floating in the ocean. Mickey reaches out, grabs the lamp, and after rubbing it for awhile a genie appears. The genie says, "You are granted one wish."

Paddy yells, "Make the whole ocean into the best-tasting beer ever." And with a thunderous crash the ocean becomes the finest brew known to man.

With the suds gently lapping against the sides of the boat, Mickey with an angry roar yells, "Oh! That's great. Now we have to piss in the boat."

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My favorite word today is repeater. N., and a-one and a-two. Def.: The person who tells his favorite joke again in the vain hope that you didn't hear it the first time.

How About Some New News?

I am pretty sure I haven't told you about this, but I need to Make My Pile. I guess I haven't really told anybody, because it's a little shameful to be needing money so bad. But I have to tell you, especially those of you who own elephants.

See, what's happening is that I don't have long to live (11+ months, according to the fakir doctor I have), so I need to decide pretty soon what kind of reincarnation I'm going to have. And right now, it looks like the elephant has the upper nose. Elephants grow to be about 100, which is a pretty ripe old age. Bristlecone pines are known to reach about 4,000 years, but that comes without a lot of orgasms.

So, if any of you elephant owners can put me in touch with the reincarnation people, just shoot me an email. Or just put it in the comments: I guess it's not a secret, anymore.

To get the money I'm going to need to Make My Pile, I think I will start an insurance company. And not just ANY insurance company, but one that nobody has thought of yet: Insurance for what you don't have insurance for.

Think of it: Insurance against polio, chicken pox, leprosy and elephantiasis. I know nobody in the U.S. gets these anymore, but that's just the point: WHAT IF? A guy can't have too much insurance.

And not only that, but what about insurance against AIDS? This will look good in the ads, even though to get paid you need to be some kind of strange. See, to collect you will have to prove you didn't enjoy getting it. Take that, homos.

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My favorite word today is ghost. N., woo, woo. Def.: The guy who steals one sock out of your dryer.

No Place Like Home

All the Catholic facilities were full, so they put their Mexican Grandpa in a Jewish home. After a few weeks, they returned to see how he was getting along.

"How do you like it here?" asked the grandson. "Oh, it's wonderful," says Grandpa. "Let me tell you about it.

"We have a musician here -- he's 85. He hasn't played in 20 years, and they still call him Maestro. We have a physician here -- he's 90 years old. He hasn't been practicing for 25 years, and everybody still calls him Doctor. And me -- I haven't had sex for 35 years and they still call me The F**king Mexican."

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Sign in a Plastic Surgeon's office: "Can we pick your nose?"

Sign in a Gynecologist's office: "Dr. Jones at your cervix."

Sign at a Proctologist's office: "Please back in for expedited service."

(All these and more are at Peskie's place.)

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My favorite word today is brilliant. Adj., a regular smart-ass. Def.: Descriptive of a guy who never thinks of the Lone Ranger when "The William Tell Overture" comes on.

Short Shrift Sunday #19

So apologies all around. I have not been able to visit many of you lately because my computer is/was defunct. So I have been going to Dell, MSN, Microsoft, regular daisy chain trying for a fix. I DIDN'T NEED A FIX!! Somebody decided to "upgrade" my system without telling me. I don't hate computers. But that buddy of mine, Little Billy Gates, better watch out...

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So the newspaper guy asks the Spaniard, "Tell me, what is really meant by 'manana'?" The Spaniard says, "Oh, it means many things. It means tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, maybe never."

He turns to the Irishman and says, "Do you have a word like that?"

"No," says the Irishman. "We have no word to describe that degree of urgency." (--Stolen from Mar.)

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My favorite word today is cat (again). N., in a hat. Def.: A puzzle for which there is no solution. (--Hazel Nicholson.)

Short Shrift Saturday #19

Isn't this nice?

I have seen some of these "word cloud" dudes before, but never got mine done until my pal Vicki did one. And the only reason I did it was because she got ALL the members of her family in her "cloud": Bud, snarl (Abby), Rich, Vicki, Mom, Daniel. (I got Feelgood and Vicki in mine; who could want anything more?)

Vicki says she is "well," after the death of her Mother. Probably not, but all of us love her, so we'll give her the benefit of the non-doubt.

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This here is my buddy on Staten Island, Babs (Jen). I am running this picture so you'll know what she looks like, so the next time she refers to herself as a "hag" or a "misfit," you will know she is lying.

But MOSTLY I am running this so you can see her teeth. Babs is, like me, dentureless, and so we got dentures. We both made out real pretty.

Babs also is my epileptic buddy. Scientists call this "too bad." But we love her, anyway.

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My favorite word today is me. N., helluva guy. Def.: Something well worth writing about.

Bathtubs Can Be Appealing, I Guess

This is St. Patrick's Day. Big deal. I'm French.

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Here are things I know a lot about: how to spell "February"; gooseberries; some things that you don't care about. Which takes us right to bathtubs.

When I was a kid (circa 1930s) we didn't know about showers. We also didn't know about bathtubs. Living at 736 Florida St. in Bend, Ore., my brother and I would get a bath in a galvanized tub each Saturday. I don't ever recall fighting over who got to go first. Since it was a bum deal, we probably fought over who got to go last.

So, anyway, we moved to a house that had a bathtub. Do you know you can get just as dirty taking a bath as if you didn't take one? My favorite word today is bathtub. N., strange place to be. Def.: Place to redistribute dirt.

Later, houses had bathtubs with showers in them. Too many people cracked their skulls taking showers in bathtubs, so they put some strips on the tub so your feet could get a grip. But then nobody wanted to sit on these things, so bathtubs became extinguished.

So now houses come with no bathtubs at all. This is probably not the best time to be an expert about bathtubs.

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A dog goes into a hardware store and says, "How about a job?"

The owner says, "Nah, get outta here. Go join the circus."

Dog: "What would the circus want with a plumber?" --(Courtesy of Milt Bogs.)

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My favorite phrase today is in conclusion. Adj., wrapping it up. Def.: The audience stirs.

Way Way Back in the Day

Okay, here's what my late Mom says:

"The Maudlins lived in the Northern District (of France), as the people who live there are predominately of the tall, fair-haired, blue-eyed type..."

All you short, brunette, brown-eyed people are probably from Macedonia or Irkutsk.

What my Mom was doing was "Researching the Maudlin Family History," which -- as best as she could figure -- started in about 1550, when some bo peep of ours crossed over to England. But we do not know who what when where why or how of anybody else until we see Ezekiel the 1st settling in North Carolina. For the rest of the story, we will pick up from my North Carolina buddy Judy:

"Hoss, I don't know what the hell you're talking about...."

Moving right along, "maudlin" was a girl's name (Little Maud) frequently used in England in the 16th Century. It derives, as does the family name, from the Anglo-French pronunciation of Magdelene as Maudlin. Somehow, some way, the name got associated with drunkenness, which led Caleb Maudlin (8th generation) to change the spelling to Mauldin. So, Bill Mauldin is a drunk, just like the rest of us.

In the early 1800's, some of the Maudlins moved to Indiana. I am pretty sure that Mamacita, who lives in Indiana, has the rest of that story:

"Hoss, you ape."

In February, 1876, Lucinda Maudlin wed Lawson Hollingsworth. One of their sons became the first Postmaster of Pasadena, Calif., and his brother was the second. Raehan, who lives in California, will be filling us in:

"Hoss, scientists call this 'too bad.'"

From 1916 to 1926, one Lloyd Maudlin served as the first Postmaster of Maudlin, Montana. Today there is nothing left of Maudlin, Montana. Not a brick, not a board. And I don't have a single reader from Montana, so you can just forget the rest of the story.

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My favorite word today is tasteless. V., oh so bad. Def.: You discover -- too late -- that someone used your beer for an ashtray.

I Had a Dream, Dear

This is about the fifth weird dream I have had that is worthy of a Freudian post. See, I will tell it, and you will interpret it:

I am part of a two-man team that has been assigned to find a new Admiral for the Oregon Navy. The Governor did not like any of the obvious candidates -- Gordon "Sinksboats" Scullery and Ransom "Heave-Plenty" Capstan.

(Oregon does not have a navy. But neither does Nebraska.)

My superior is upstairs talking to the Governor when in walks this lady wearing jodhpurs, carrying a crop, and with high-top army boots. I say to my secretary, "And prithee, who is THAT?" He says, "THAT is Big Rear Admiral Josephine Navybrat. She is in charge of our wild horses program."

Hoss: "Has she ever been on a boat?"

Secretary: "Why I believe she owns one -- an 8-footer. I believe it's called a 'punt'."

(Now, you see, in real life Hoss would have said, "What the hell are we doing with a wild horses program?" And my secretary would have said something like, "Well, we don't have any boats, so it gives the employees something to do.")

I don't know if this dream means anything, but upon reflection it has the makings of a pretty good movie. Just think of it: Navy guys mounting horses. (Ho ho har de har har. I crack myself up.)

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So, this Avon lady enters the elevator and -- hoo boy -- she passes big gas. She is well-armed for the event: She opens her sample case and tries to spray away the odor.

Two floors up, a gentleman enters the car. She, confident that her spray job has done the trick, says to the guy, "Do you smell anything?" And he says, "Yes, it smells like somebody has crapped in a pine tree."

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My favorite word today is Moses. N., the wilderness guy. Def.: The travel agent who warns you about a foreign city's armpit to show you how valuable he is to have along.

Where Have You Been, Feelgood?

I don't get out much -- but it seems like that damn Feelgood Haines knows just when it will be. I put off going for the mail until 4 p.m., quiet as a mouse, when I hear:

"Hold on there, Hoss."

I told him: "Just goin' for the mail, Feelgood, nice to see you and goodbye."

Of course, by now, Feelgood has blocked the path to the mailboxes because he KNOWS I am underfed, historically. (Mr. Haines is the reigning chieftain when it comes to tales historic.)

Feelgood: "Start chanting 'By the shorts of gitchiegummie' and what's the first thing that comes to mind?"

Ol' Hoss: "Thailand?"

Feelgood: "I didn't slow you down to banter. This is good for you to know in case you ever need to know about American history, which I think you know you do."

Hoss: "Okay, Feelgood, lay it on me."

Feelgood: "What you think of is Pocohontas, a.k.a. Matoaka, which nobody uses on accounta it is a slippery word. And the thing is, Poco didn't have a damn thing to do with it. See, she was a Pontiack, and the gitchigummies lived someplace else and drove Hondas. You probably want to know where, so I'll have to look it up for you." (All of these are paintings of Pocohantas -- or none of them is.)

Hoss: "Oh I would be SO in your debt...."

Feelgood: "So then Pocohontas saved Capt. John Smith from being head-bashed, then she got herself captured, then she got religion, then she married John Rolfe, who developed Virginia tobacco. See how it's goin' here, Hoss? Huh? Thanks a lot, bitch."

Hoss: "I don't get it."

Feelgood: "Sure you do. If Poco hadn't wanted to go to England, John Rolfe wouldn't have needed a lot of dough which he got from developing tobacco, which is what is wrong with your lungs, you dodo. And the worst thing is that Pocohontas means 'playful one.' My ass."

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When Slick Willy and Dubya get together, what happens next? Go here. (Stolen from Miss Cellania.)

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My favorite word today is warmup. Adj., wonder buns. Def.: The odd feeling you get when sitting on a seat still warm from someone else's bottom.

To Soothe the Savage Chicken Breasts

It has now been one year since I quit smoking. I don't feel any better. My doctor says that's because I quit too late. Hah, all he knows. I am 75 and 164/365ths, which is plenty past 70, which is what the Bible says you get. So gimme a butt.

Nah. Maybe later.

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I am pretty good at Memes, except music. So, naturally, Boo has laid on me this one about seven songs I am currently jiving. Hah, fat chance. I don't think I have listened to seven songs in my whole life. Let's see:

1. "Take an Old Cold Tater and Wait." We have heard about this one before. It is a philosophi-
cal recita-
tion on a wasted life in the Idaho free-range potato fields. Strangely, it is mostly about chicken.

2. "Three Little Fishies." This monumental work concerns removal of an earth dam on the lower end of the Colorado River. There is never any water where the dam is. I don't know what this song has to do with fish.

3. "The Star-Spangled Banner." This is a takeoff on a British drinking song. It starts out with much ado about rockets and such, then segues right into a paean about braves and other Indians. People without three octaves in their portfolio probably will want to give this one a miss.

4. "Long Gone With the Wind and the Rain." This is a song yet to be written. It will be the theme for a movie of the same name, which I will have ready for the next Academy Awards. The movie is about Darth Vader trying to get into Demi Moore's pants. In Take 5, he is still too short.

There, that's seven.

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"Why is it when folks talk to God it is praying, but when God talks to you, you're crazy?" --Peskie.

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My favorite word today is smooth. Adj., you sly dog. Def.: Descriptive of young men who stand around smiling as if to suggest they know the bride quite well.

Short Shrift Sunday #18

The old man cuts the hamburger in two and gives one half to his wife. He then counts out the french fries, and gives her exactly half. He puts the soft drink between them, and they each take a sip. Then he begins to eat.

A young man comes over to the table and offers to buy another entree for them. "No thanks," said she. "We are used to sharing everything."

The old man finishes off his meal; his wife had not taken a bite. He wipes his lips with the napkin. The young man comes over again and says to the lady, "Um, what are you waiting for?"

"The teeth."

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For a video explaining what amuses old people, go here.

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My favorite word today is cat. N., an unanswered puzzle. Def.: A thing that teaches us not everything in nature has a purpose. --Garrison Keillor.

Short Shrift Saturday #18

Two women friends had gone for a girls' night out. Later, incredibly drunk and walking home they needed to pee. So they stopped in the cemetery.

One of them had nothing to wipe with, but she thought nothing of using her panties. The second was wearing expensive panties and didn't want to part with them. Luckily, she had crouched next to a grave that had a wreath with a ribbon on it, so she used that.

The next day one of the women's husbands phoned the other and said, "These girls night out have got to stop. I'm starting to suspect the worst -- my wife came home with no panties."

"That's nothing," said the other. "Mine came back with a card stuck to her butt that said....'From all of us at the Fire Station. We'll never forget you.'"

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My favorite phrase today is what the hell? Adj., out damned spot. Def.: After scrubbing and scrubbing, he discovers the smudge on the window is on the other side.

We Shall /Shall Not Overcome

In the late 1960s (before all of you were born), a friend of mine who was a state legislator introduced a bill to repeal a 1917 law creating "Frances E. Willard Day" in Oregon. The "Day" was the 4th Friday of October, when teachers were instructed to set aside time to tell their students about the "life, history and achievements" of Miss Willard.

Willard was a prohibitionist, social reformer and foe of capitalism. But it seemed nobody cared, since the day was never observed. So this legislator, Richard Kennedy, said why not repeal the statute?

Well, that's when the dung beetles hit the fan. The Women's Christian Temper-
ance Union rose up in arms, and the Legislature ran for cover.

Kennedy was not dismayed. He became an advocate for Frances E. Willard Day and, thus, the darling of the WCTU. In the next session of the Legislature (with tongue still firmly in cheek) he introduced a bill setting criminal penalties in the statute for teachers who didn't teach about Frances E. Willard. Needless to say, since teachers and jail space were then in short supply, this did not happen.

Later, though no longer a legislator, Kennedy got a friend to introduce a bill to make Frances E. Willard Day a state holiday. "It would put Oregon on the map -- a psychologically important innovation," he said. "As it is now, the only other calendar date taking notice of women is Mother's Day, which is indicative of the historical treatment of women. It would be a step in the right direction to recognize women as individuals rather than as the party chief in reproduction."

This got the Legislature's attention. Late in the session, the Oregon Legislature repealed Frances E. Willard Day and established "Women in Oregon History Week." During the second week of March, schools are required to commemorate the lives, history and achievements of Oregon Women in History -- including Frances E. Willard.

I wonder if it's too late to nominate my girlie side for a couple days' worth of instruction?*

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My favorite phrase today is fleshing it out. Adj. the talk is getting pretty salty in here. Def.: An argument between the baker and the preacher as to whether the wafers are unleavened.

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(*Are they teaching it this year? You gotta be kidding.)