I Hope You Love Calvin

Change of pace-wise, I am changing the pace. Here are a raft of Calvin and Hobbes cartoons some poor soul sent me and naturally I forgot who it was. But I am deep in debt for I am a true lover of C and H, and that ain't sugar. If you click on these, they will enlarge enough for you to read the captions.

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My favorite word today is diet. N., how to raid the refrigerator. Def.: What you go on two of, for one won't give you enough food.

Can She Bake a Key Lime Pie, Charming Billy?

Democratic Rep. Charles Rangel, a black, was asked what he thought about President Bush.

"Well," he said, "I really think he shatters the myth of white supremacy once and for all."

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GIANT SQUID CAUGHT ON CAMERA

"Researchers follow bloated spineless creatures who dwell in the darkest depths. Then they get tired of politics and start looking for big squid."

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In 1998, Richard Harter, a retired methematician, wondered if mathematics could be applied to various positions of the toilet seat.

At the outset, he discounted the possibility of the woman agreeing to raise the seat when she is done, noting "no instance of this behavior has ever been observed in recorded history."

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According to my pal Vicki, a man enters a bus with both of his front pockets full of golf balls. He sits down next to a beautiful (you guessed it) blonde. The puzzled blonde kept looking at him and his bulging pockets. Finally, after many such glances from her, he said, "It's golf balls."

Nevertheless, the blonde continued to look at him for a very long time, deeply thinking about what he had said. After several minutes, not being able to contain her curiousity any longer, she asked, "Does it hurt as much as tennis elbow?"

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My favorite word today is enema. N. bottom's up! Def.: Antonym for a friend.

Open Wide

So Scamp and I are in Medford. Apparently a lot of gay people live here, for the city advertises itself as "The Fruit Capitol of the West."

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Good ol' Maxine (left) told me about her new diet. She altered her drive to work to avoid passing her favorite bakery. But she accidentally drove by the bakery this morning and as she approached she saw in the windshield a host of goodies. She felt this was no accident, so she prayed, "God, it's up to you. If you want me to have any of those delicious goodies, create a parking place for me directly in front of the bakery." And sure enough, on the eighth time around the block, there it was!

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Near Colorado Springs, Colo., the Air Force conducted tests with a special radio frequency that would communicate with first responders in the event of a homeland security threat. Unfortunabley, it was discoverred that the frequency also instantly opened an estimated 50 million garage doors in a seven-state area.

Now then, how 'bout them UFOs, huh?

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A husband is in his backyard, trying to fly a kite. He throws the kite up in the air, the wind catches it for a few seconds, then it comes crashing back down to earth. He tries this several times, with no success.

All the while his wife is watching from the kitchen window. She finally opens the window and yells to her husband, "You need a piece of tail."

"Make up your mind," he said. "Last night you told me to go fly a kite."

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My favorite word today is dammit. N., and Bob's your uncle. Def.: You're on vacation, you're driving, it's raining, and the kids are making you a nervous wreck.

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(Heaven's to murgatroyd. I just discovered that Medford has a bunch of pear and apricot trees. They might have gays, too, but I don't know for sure.)

Pondering, Pondering

So here we are at an Internet connected motel in beautiful downtown Brookings, which is about as far south as you can go in Oregon without being in California. And to get where we're going, we need to go into California before we can find our next destination in Oregon. Pray for us.

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It seemeth to me that I recently ran a b**g telling the truth about men. This is about women, sorta:

MENtal illness, MENstrual cramps, MENtal breakdown, MENopause. Ever notice how all of women's problems start with men?

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Bubba and Junior were standing at the base of a flagpole looking up. A blonde lady walked by and asked what they were doing.

"We're supposed to find the height of the flagpole," said Bubba. "But we don't have a ladder."

The blonde woman took a wrench from her purse, loosened a few bolts, and laid the pole down. Then she took a tape measure from her pocket, took a measurement and announced, "Eighteen feet, six inches," and walked away.

Junior shook his head and laughed. "Ain't that just like a dumb blonde? We ask for the height and she gives us the length."

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My favorite phrase today is ham and eggs. N., good for dinner, too. Def.: A day's work for a chicken, a lifetime commitment for a pig.

I Think I Read About This

Well, lookie here. I found another Internet connection at a motel in Yachats (YAH-hots), which is on the Central Oregon Coast but near the Southern Oregon Coast, which is where the Banana Belt resides. You are so lucky I'm such a good finder

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Every now and then I run across a jewel or two that I think should be shared with you. For instance, there's this one around the swim pool where nothing (well, almost nothing) turns out as planned. You want to see this? Sure you do. Go here.

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Doctor Paul had slept with one of his patients and felt guilty all day long. No matter how much he tried to forget about it, he couldn't. The guilt and sense of betrayal was overwhelming.

But every once in awhile he'd hear an internal, reassuring voice in his head that said: "Doctor, don't cry about it. You aren't the first medical practitioner to sleep with one of their patients and you won't be the last. And you're single. Just let it go."

But, invariably, another voice in his head would bring him back to reality, whispering....

"Paul......

"Paul......

"Paul......

"....you're a veterinarian."

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My favorite phrase today is banister of life. N., ain't we got fun? Def.: Where the splinters point the wrong way.

A Missive From Miss Chicago/Florida

Hoo boy. I found a friendly library in Manzanita. So far, so good. Nine days to go.

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My good buddy Vicki has sent me a worthy post. You all know Vicki, late of Ann Arbor, MI, now of Chicago, but more recently abiding near Tampa, FL, watching tornados fly overhead.

MEN ARE JUST HAPPIER PEOPLE

What do you expect from such simple creatures? Your last name stays put.
The garage is all yours. Wedding plans take care of themselves. Chocolate is just another snack. You can be President. You can never get pregnant. You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park. Hell, you can wear NO shirt to a water park.

Car mechanics tell you the truth. The world is your urinal. You never have to drive to anotehr gas station restroom because this one is just too icky. You don't hve to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt. Same work, more pay. Wrinkles add character. Wedding dress: $5,000. Tux rental: $100. People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them. The occasional well-rendered belch is not only appreciated by your friends, but practically expected. New shoes don't cut, blister of mangle your feet. One mood all the time. Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat. You know stuff about tanks.

A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase. You can open all your own jars. You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness. If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend. Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough. You almost never have strap problems in public. You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.

Everything on your face stays its original color. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades. You only have to shave your face and neck. You can play with toys all your life. Your belly usually hides your big hips. One wallet and one pair of shoes one color for all seasons. You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look. You can "do" your nails with a pocket knife. You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache. You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives on December 24 in 25 minutes.

(Ain't that swell? But I still like women like you, Vicki.)

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My favorite phrase today is digital watch. N., byte me. Def.: Its days are numbered.

A Horse Is a Horse, Of Course, Of Course

I am goin' be gone for maybe 10 days, during which I will try to post from places sundry. If I don't manage it, see ya about Feb. 18. You too.

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INNER STRENGTH

If you can start the day without caffeine or pep pills,

If you can be cheerful, ignoring aches and pains,

If you can resist complaining and boring people with your troubles,

If you can eat the same food every day and be grateful for it,

If you can understand when loved ones are too busy to give you time,

If you can overlook when peoople take things out on you when, through no fault of your own, something goes wrong,

If you can take criticism and blame without resentment,

If you can face the world without lies and deceit,

If you can conquer tension without medical help,

If you can relax without liquor,

If you can sleep without the aid of drugs,

Then you are probably a dog.

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Don't accept your dog's admiration as conclusive evidence that you are wonderful. --Ann Landers.

I wonder what goes through his mind when he sees us peeing in his water bowl. --Penny Ward Moser.

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My favorite phrase today is the ace physician. N., got a kidney you can spare? Def.: One who is the fantastic inspirer of hope.

Out of the Mouths of Babes Dept.

I swiped this from someplace, maybe over where the perverts hang out:

A man and a woman were driving down the road, arguing about his deplorable infidelity when suddenly the woman reached over, sliced the man's weenee off, and angrily tossed it out the window.

Driving behind the couple were a man and his 6-year-old daughter. The little girl was chatting away at her father when all of a sudden the johnson smacked their car windshield, stuck for a moment, then flew off.

Surprised, the daughter asked her father, "Daddy, what was that?"

Not wanting to expose his little girl to anything sexual at such a young age, the father replied, "It...it was only a bug, honey."

The daughter sat with a confused look on her face, and after a moment said, "Sure had a big dick, didn't it?"

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From my newspaper, The Oregonian: "The Walt Street Journal reports, 'Todays simple truth: Half of all children are below average in intelligence.'"

(Hey, kids, look at the kid next to you in class. Is he or she stupid? If not, it's you.)

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The redneck's pickup line: Your face reminds me of a wrench. Every time I think of it my nuts tighten up.

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My favorite phrase today is food. N., eat before the ants get here. Def.: An important part of a balanced diet.

Honors to Pluto and Bre'r Rabbit

As you all know, rabbits are the Big Kahuna when the first of the month rolls around. What you do is say Rabbit! Rabbit! and all your cares and woes and troubles and so on disappear and you get good luck the whole month long. THIS WORKS! I know it does, because I have not died in any preceding month, and how much better luck than that do you want?

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This is also the time of the month when various and sundry ilk of us award our Perfect Post awards. Perfect Post is the childbrain of Momma K and Lucinda. Go to either site to see the URLs of all the Perfect Posters.

My Perfect Post goes to Sim, aka Pluto, and can be found here. It's a short little ditty about a much-needed New Year's resolution. Will take you only 10 seconds, so "go."

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I keep thinking about good ideas for Making My Pile. Please give me your honest thoughts: How many people would buy my new battery-operated battery charger?

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If a tree falls in the forest and there's no one there to hear it, then who will notify the next of kindling?

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My favorite phrase today is that other God. N., ol' sweetness. Def.: A liberal who gave Moses the Ten Suggestions.

Twice as Many Alligators

Here's one of those fine cartoons done by my buddy Sim, at Plutos the Bubblemans. You should visit him often, for he has a great turn of mind, cartoonish-wise.

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A fella reports to me how everyone seems to be concentrating on the problems we're having in this country lately -- illegal immigration, hurricane recovery, wild animals attacking humans in Florida.

So he goes on to say that he concentrates, too, and has the solutions:

1. We dig a moat the length of the Mexican border.
2. We use the dirt to raise the levies in New Orleans.
3. We put the Florida alligators in the moat.

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And from my buddy Vicki:

An elderly man in Louisiana had owned a large piece of property for many years. He had a large pond in the back, that he had surrouonded with picnic tables, horseshoe courts and some apple and peach trees.

One evening, the old farmer decided to go down to the pond, as he hadn't been there in some time. He grabbed a five-gallong bucket to bring back some apples and peaches. As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing with glee. As he came closer, he saw it was a bunch of young women skinny-dipping in his pond.

He made the women aware of his presence, and they all went to the deep end. One of the women shouted to him, "We're not coming out until you leave!"

The old man frowned. "I didn't come down here to watch you ladies swim naked, or make you get out of the pond naked." Holding the bucket over his head, he said, "I'm just here to feed the alligator."

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My favorite word today is memory. N., you must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss. Def.: What you forget with.

Sing Me a Headstone

For the record, Bernadette and Mamacita, I have indeed read H*y*m*a*n K*a*p*l*a*n. Great yarn about a Muslim who's holed up in a San Francisco gay bar, as I recall.

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LOUD SEX: A wife goes in to see a therapist and says, "I've got a big problem. Every time we're in bed and my husband climaxes, he lets out this ear-splitting yell."

The therapist says, "My dear, that's completely normal. I don't see what the problem is."

The lady responds, "The problem is, it wakes me up!"

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QUIET SEX: Tired of a listless sex life, the man came right out and asked his wife during a recent lovemaking session, "How come you never tell me when you have an orgasm?"

She: "You're never home."

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WEDDING ANNIVERSARY SEX: A husband and wife had a bitter quarrel on the day of their 40th wedding anniversary. The husband yells, "When you die, I'm getting you a headstone that reads: 'Here lies my wife -- cold as ever.'"

"Yeah," she replies, "and when you die I'm getting you a headstone that reads: 'Here lies my husband -- stiff at last.'"

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WOMEN'S HUMOROUS SEX: Her husband came home with a tube of K-Y Jelly and said, "This will make you happy tonight."

He was right. When he went out of the bedroom, she squirted it all over the doorknobs. He couldn't get back in.

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My favorite phrase today is perfect lover. N., nibble, nibble. Def.: What turns into a pizza at 4 a.m.

Teach Me What's Real, Teacher

I think that I have at least three regular readers who are teachers. And they are not just grading comes lately. They are: REAL TEACHERS.

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Real teachers buy Excedrin and Advil in bulk at Costco.

Real teachers will eat anything left in the teachers' lounge.

Real teachers grade papers in the car, during commercials, in faculty meetings, in the bathroom, and at the end of nine weeks. Grading in church is permissible.

Real teachers know that sixth graders get hormones from Santa at Christmas.

Real teachers cheer when they learn that April 1 does not fall on a school day.

Real teachers can't walk past a crowd of kids without straightening up the line.

Real teachers never sit down without first checking the seat of the chair.

Real teachers are written up in medical journals for the size and elasticity of their bladders.

Real teachers have been timed gulping down lunch in 2 minutes, 18 seconds. Master teachers can eat faster than that.

Real teachers can predict exactly which parents will appear at an open house.

Real teachers understand the importance of making sure every kid gets a valentine.

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My favorite word today is fragrance. N., how sweet it is. Def.: What always remains in the hand that bestows the rose.

Guess What His Name Is

A woman is fast approaching 40 years of age and is without a partner. This situation has her rather depressed due to a long history of failed relationships. After much debate, she decides that the best thing to do is take out a personal ad in the newspaper.

"Wanted: A good lover to be my friend, one who won't beat me and won't run out on me."

After a week or so no one has responded, and she is feeling particularly depressed when the doorbell rings. She opens the front door to find a man with no arms and no legs lying on the front porch. Quite surprised, she asks what he wants.

He replies, "I'm responding to your ad for a good lover."

"How can that be?" she inquires. "You have no arms or legs."

"I have no arms so I can't beat you and I have no legs so I can't run out on you," he said.

"What about being a good lover?"

"I rang the doorbell didn't I?"

(Do you remember this guy's name? It was Matt.)

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I saw a little squib the other day that invited you to find out how many people share your name. There are 43,495 Lowells (my real name), 1,720 Maudlins (my realer name); but there are no other Lowell Maudlins. I am unique!! Hoo boy.

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Want some down-home country fighting 'tween Hillary and Condi Rice? Here you go.

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A doctor said to a little old man, "You're going to live to be 60."

The man replies, "I AM 60!"

The doctor: "What did I tell you." --Henny Youngman.

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My favorite phrase today is income tax returns. N., move that decimal over to the left. Def.: The most imaginative fiction being written today. --Herman Wouk.

Great News in the Morning

A guy walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm, and tells the bartender: "Gimme me a beer -- and how about one for the road?"

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My buddy Vicki has sent me a swell story, for which I am thankin' her mightily:

The day after his wife disappeared in a kayaking accident, an Anchorage man answered his door to find trwo grim-faced Alaska State Troopers.

"We're sorry, Mr. Wilkens, but we have some information about your wife," says one trooper.

"Tell me! Tell me! Did you find her?" Wilkens shouted.

The troopers looked at each other, and finally one said, "We have some bad news, some good news, and some really great news. Which do you want to hear first?"

Fearing the worst, an ashen Mr. Wilkens said, "Give me the bad news first."

The trooper said, "I'm sorry to tell you sir, but this morning we found your wife's body in Kachemak Bay."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Wilkens. Swallowing hard, he asked, "What's the good news?"

The trooper continued, "When we pulled her up, she had 12 25-pound king crabs and 6 good-size Dungeness crabs clinging to her."

Mr. Wilkens demanded, "If that's the good news, what's the great news?"

The trooper said, "We're going to pull her up again tomorrow."

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My favorite word today is seasons. N., what you put on your beef. Def.: There are two of these in Oregon: rainy....and wet.

Want to Go to Anorexia for Lunch?

Following are what are purported to be actual notes made on hospital charts. If this is apocryphal, I'm not sorry.

The patient refused autopsy.

The patient has no previous history of suicides.

Patient has left white blood cells at another hospital.

She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.

On the second day the knee was better, and on the third day it disappeared.

Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left side for over a year.

The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.

The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.

Discharge status: Alive, but without permission.

Healthy appearing, decrepit 69-year-old male, mentally alert but forgetful.

Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.

She is numb from her toes down.

While in ER, she was examined, x-rated and sent home.

The skin was moist and dry.

Occasional, constant, infrequent headaches.

She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life, until she got a divorce.

Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.

The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.

Skin: somewhat pale but present.

The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.

Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities.

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My favorite word today is knowledge. N., Wikipedia memorized. Def.: The only things worth learning are the things you learn after you know it all. --Harry Truman.

Mr. Frosty Pays Ol' Hoss Big Bucks

I started this here b**g two years and two days ago. I hope those of you who have dropped by from time to time feel properly educated, because of course that was what I had planned. For instance, you now know when to write "So it goes." And you are buddies with Feelgood Haines. And you have contributed ever so mightily to my schemes plans to get rich ("Vivien Sleigh, Clark Goble and the Steamboat to Nowhere" -- a book ("Gone With the Wind and the Rain") stolen by the Chinese).

Speakin' of which (how to get rich), here is Mr. Frosty, which I managed to whip up yesterday morning. I figure this picture will be converted into a Xmas (Season's Greetings?) card, which will be way popularized. I don't know whether to sell this to Whitman's Sampler, Hallmark or Mad Magazine. One way or t'other, I figure it will get me enough dough for my resusitory trip to Outer Space.

(Oh. It snowed about 3 inches, but it was plenty good enough for making snowballs and Mr. Frosties.)

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If you eat something and no one sees you eat it, it has no calories.

Foods that are frozen have no calorites, because calories are units of heat. Examples are ice cream and frozen pies.

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Hoss found another swell link that will be enjoyed by cat lovers, of which I am one or two. You may go here to see what it's all about. Takes only about 8 seconds, so step right up.

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My favorite phrase today is "I must remember this..." N., "a kiss is just a kiss...." Def.: The older a man gets, the farther he had to walk to school as a boy.

Shadows and Clowns

Following a link I got from my buddy Vicki took me to the (old) Boss, who sings while we look at some comedians at work. This is a VERY GOOD piece, about 4 minutes long. So you go here and I will not write so much that you will have to spend all day with me.

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The spinster's prayer: Dear God, if you can't make me young, give all my friends wrinkles.

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What if they gave a war and nobody profited?

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Okay, one more trip for you. To see an Amazing Shadow Trick click that link. Amazed me, might amaze you.

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My favorite phrase today is old age (again). N., crinkled and wrinkled. Def.: When it dawns upon you that you, too, are biodegradable.

My Sentimints, Exactly

New mints come in two different varieties. Ones with Bush on the cover are sold as "embarrassmints." Ones with the whole Bush cabinet on it are sold as "indictimints."

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The employee is making love to the boss's wife.

"Kiss me! Kiss me!" she cries.

"I can't," said he. "I shouldn't even be doing this."

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A black goes to this psychiatrist. The psychiatrist says, "First, drop to your hands and knees and crawl to that wall over there." The black complies, and the doc says, "Kind of nice." Then he says, "Now, crawl to this wall over here." The black complies once again, and the doc says, "That's even better. Finally," says the psychiatrist, "crawl to that lamp over there." The black patient complies, and the psychiatrist says, "That would work, too."

The black stands up and says, "How is this going to help me, doc?"

"Oh, it won't help you," says the psychiatrist. "But I've got a black naugahyde couch coming in and I wanted to see where it looks best."

(I KNOW it's outrageous, but I couldn't resist. All in fun, see.)

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From the "Police Reports" section of our local weekly: "A men's pinky ring, reported lost on Dec. 28, possibly at Shari's Restaurant. A couple reported that they got home after dining out and realized it was missing from the man's pinky."

(This is when newspaper reporters pick up on police jargon.)

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My favorite word today is feathers. N., well I'll be flocked. Def.: This tickles me.

Pepsi Speaks Out for Reincarnation

When the big-wigs transfer their slogans outside the U.S., it sometimes don't work out. No sirree. For instance, Pepsi took its slogan "Come alive with the Pepsi generation" to Taiwan, and saw it instantly translated as "Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the dead." And KFC took "Finger-lickin' good" to China, where it became "Eat your fingers off."

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Sign in Ballindaloch, Scotland: "BEWARE. Free range children. SLOW."

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President Lincoln, unlike me, believed in God. But he had his doubts about invoking God to be on his side in the Great War.

"In great contests, each party claims to act in accordance with the will of God," he said. "Both may be, and one must be, wrong."

You can take that to your friendly jihad meeting.

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A Jewish debtor, called in for an audit by the IRS, asked his accountant for advice on what to wear. "Wear your shabbiest clothing. Let him think you are a pauper."

He asked the same thing of his lawyer, but got opposite advice. "Do not let them intimiate you," he advised. "Wear your most elegant suit and tie."

Confused, the man went to his rabbi, told him of the conflicting advice, and requested some resolution of the dilemma.

"Let me tell you a story," replied the rabbi. "A woman, about to be married, asked her mother what to wear on her wedding night. 'Wear a heavy, long, flannel nightgown that goes right up to your neck.' But when she asked her best friend, she got conflicting advice. 'Wear your most sexy negligee, with a V-neck right down to your navel.'"

The man protested: "What does all this have to do with my problem with the IRS?"

The rabbi answered: "No matter what you wear, you are going to get screwed."

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My favorite word today is uglified. Adj., short version of uglification. Def.: The kind of facial experession it is impossible to achieve except when you're posing for a passport photo.

What You Have to Look Forward To (To What You Have to Look Forward?)

Things are gonna be differmence in 2029, when I will be 99 and be the last person in the United States to get Social Security. For instance, we will find that ozone created by electric cars will be killing millions in the seventh largest country in the world, Mexifornia (formerly known as California). White minorities will still be trying to have English recognized as Mexifornia's second language.

A baby will be conceived naturally, stumping the scientists.

The Supreme Court will be asked to reinstate heterosexual marriage.

France is taken over by Jamaica, appeals for help from the UN. UN Secretary-General Sidney Plotz of Jamaica says, "So?"

Castro dies at age 112. Cuban cigars now are legal in the U.S., but President Chelsea Clinton has banned all smoking.

Postal Service raises price of first-class stamp to $13.49 and reduces deliveries to Wednesday only.

Results of an 85-year, 75.8-billion study: Diet and Exercise are keys to weight loss!

Japanese scientists have created a camera with such a fast shutter speed they now can photograph a woman with her mouth shut.

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Two businessmen are at the urinals. The first one says, "I'm going home for the day. Take care. You have a good one."

And the second one says, "Thanks. I didn't know you were looking."

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My favorite word today is groupie. N., chasing Johnny Mathis? Def.: A big, friendly fish.

Hoss Is Once Again Coining Dough

It has been awhile since I touted you to invest in my latest money-making scheme. I have been stalling because I needed to wait for a new tax year. (My last idea made a lot of money, but Uncle Sam got most of it so I am once again in the "needy" class.)

So now then, loosen up your grip on your money jar because you will want to get a piece of this action, known hereafter as Ol' Hoss's Day-Glowed Ad Works. Which should tip you right off that this is another of my winners. And so's you know what you're gettin' into, I'll give you the company highlights:

We are going to do what Google is doing, only without a computer. Tah-rah-de-boom-te-ay: We will be putting ads on hearses (you can credit this one to Gerald Ford). Can't you just imagine the free TV time we would have got from an ad on Ford's hearse? (Think of it! We could sell a lot of tapes by advertising some tie-in music such as "Goin' Down the Road Feelin' Bad." Or we coulda advertised our own reincarnation business -- "Lassie Come Home.")

Serious, I think the TV gave more time to that hearse than they did to OJ's slow trip in a Bronco to some gloves that didn't fit. If we coulda got the Marlboro Man on the side of that Ford hearse we'd never have to work again in our lifetimes. (Well, maybe YOU wouldn't have to work again. But since I am not planning to die I might have to figure out something.)

Anyway, somebody dies every day, and if we get our ads on all the hearses that will put us in the Forbes List of 100 Billionaires, maybe as high as No. 10. Shares in my new company will be available soon. (Not all of them, of course. I have to keep some on hand to grant myself some backdated stock options. Us rich people didn't get rich by accident, you know.)

I don't think Ford would be offended by this. He WAS a Republican, you know. And jeeze, he would have loved the tie-in potential: "Ford Signals the Death Knell for the Taurus."

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My favorite word today is dilemma. Def.:

Perched in my shorts on the edge of the bed,
With a shoe in my hand and my teeth in a cup,
I'm looking for clues, so I won't have to ask:
Am I going to bed now or just getting up?

Dance Me the Loose Language

Somebody, I say somebody, sent me alink for a beauteous piece of magic, an amazingly quick change of clothes. I recommend you go see it here.

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For as long as I can remember, I have had amnesia.

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To set the parameters for the class, the professor began by asking some questions.

To a female student: "What is the opposite of joy?"

Student: "That would be sadness."

To another female student: "What is the opposite of depression?"

Student: "That is elation."

To a male student: "And you, young man, what is the opposite of woe?"

Student: "Sir, I believe that would be giddy-up."

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So husband and wife are waiting at the bus stop with their nine children. A blind man joins them after a few minutes. When the bus arrives, they find it overloaded and only the wife and the nine kids are able to fit onto the bus.

The husband and the blind man decide to walk. After awhile, the husband gets irritated by the ticking of the stick of the blind man as he taps it on the sidewalk, and says to him: "Why don't you put a piece of rubber at the end of your stick? That ticking sound is driving me crazy."

The blind man replies: "If you would've put a rubber at the end of YOUR stick, we'd be riding the bus, so shut the hell up."

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My favorite word (again) today is old. N., as your skin turns into leather. Def.: When an attractive girl sits down next to an ancient male and asks, "Is this your good ear?"

The Slapping and Pulling Game Show

A baby penguin walks into a bar, and says to the bartender:

"Have you seen my Dad?"

"What's he look like?"

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The year is 2222. Mike and Maureen have accumulated a bunch of frequent flier miles, and they land on Mars, stuffing Santa on the way there, as you see.They meet a Martian couple and are talking about all sorts of things. Mike asks if Mars has a stock market, if they have laptop computers, how they make money, etc. Finally Maureen brings up the subject of sex. "Just how do you guys do it?" she asks.

"Pretty much the way you do," responds the Martian. Discussion ensues and finally the couples decide to swap partners for the night and experience one another.

Maureen and the male Martian go off to a bedroom where the Martian strips. He's got only a teeny, weenie member -- about half an inch long and just a quarter inch thick. "I don't think this is going to work," says Maureen.

"Why?" he says. "What's the matter?"

"Well," she responds, "it's just not long enough to reach me."

"No problem," he says, and he proceeds to slap his forehead with his palm. With each slap his member grows until it is impressively long. "Well," she says, "that's pretty impressive, but it looks like a long pencil; it's still pretty narrow...."

"No problem," he says, and starts pulling his ears. With each pull, his member grows wider and wider until the entire measurement is extremely exciting to the woman.

"Wow," she exclaims, and they fall into bed and have mad, passionate sex. The next day the couples rejoin their normal partners and go their separate ways.

As they walk along, Mike asks, "Well, was it any good?"

"I hate to say it," Maureen says, "but it was damn good. How about you?"

"It was horrible," Mike says. "All I got was a headache. She kept slapping my forehead and pulling my ears."

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My favorite word today is old. Adj., older than dirt. Def.: When you can't find your glasses without your glasses.

Susie Has a F*#king Good Time

My buddy Susie is this month's winner of a "Perfect Post" for her swear-word-laden offering of Dec. 4, which you will find here. Hold onto your funny bone. "Perfect Post" is the brainchild of Momma K and Lucinda. You can go see them, too.


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And the start of the month would be nothin' without a rabbit. You remember how to do this? You say Rabbit! Rabbit! at the first of each month and you will have good luck all month long. For instance, my computer was only down 5 days during December, which is pretty good considering it could have been down for 6.
I sure hope you're treating your rabbit right, like this one. This stuff is lots better than hay.

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A woman goes to the doctor for her yearly physical. The nurse starts with certain basic items:

Nurse: How much do you weigh?

Woman: 115.

The nurse puts her on the scale and it registers 160.

Nurse: Your height?

Woman: 5-feet-8.

The nurse checks and sees she is only 5-4.

She then checks the woman's blood pressure, and tells the woman it is very high.

"Of course it's high!" she screams. "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!

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My favorite word today is closet. N., boy it's dark in there. Def.: Where you store your clothes, not where you come out of.

How I Was Then

You don't recognize this fella, right? Me neither. But my buddy Scamp tells me it is me, way back when I had more hair (mustache) and no air hoses. The picture is crooked because that's just the way I am.

Anyway, don't have an orgastic. You can get a tie like that anywhere.

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Whozat in a name:

In Bushnell, Fla., a student at a high school named Your-Highness Morgan has a cousin named Gorgeous Morgan. (Then there's the niece, Pigout Morgan.)

From a legal notice of a name change published in the Honolulu Advertiser: Walaulia Alohi anail ke alaamek kawaipe olanihenoheno Kam Paghmani" changed to Walaulia Alohi anail ke alaamek kawaipi olanihenoheno Kam." (Boy howdy, can't you just see how much someone would hate being called Pahg?)

Charged with stealing nearly $300,000 from the Locust Valley Cemetery Association on Long Island, NY: Donald Death Jr. (Dr. Kevorkian's nephew.)

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My favorite word today is elderberry. N., cousin of an elderhostel. Def.: What funeral homes do with old people. Synonym: Box elder.

We Have No Scene Here

At last! I have computer again. Thanks for bearing.

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I am reading this book about weird things that have happened in Florida. And yes, I said "book" -- more than 200 pages of items. For instance:

The train from Tallahassee was notorious for always pulling into Jacksonville late. One day it came in right on time, amazing the regulars. They swarmed the engineer -- only to hear him sadly inform them that this was yesterday's train.

------

The Bushnell, Fla., Assembly of God got a sweepstakes notice from American Family Publishers announcing tht God, of Bushnell, was a finalist for a one-million-dollar prize.

"God, we've been searching for you," it said. "What an incredible fortune there would be for God! Could you imagine the looks you would get from your neighbors. Don't just sit there, God."

(Yeah, for Christ's sake, God, get off the dime. Order them mags!)

-----

A woman whose body was found in a northwestern Florida county may have been a victim of a hit-and-run accident more than 10 miles away. Sheriff's spokesman Jim Leljedal said, "We've got a scene on Highway 27 where there is not a victim, then we have a victim here where's there no scene."

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My favorite word today is experience. N., been there, done that. Def.: What teaches you to recognize a mistake when you've made it again.

Whersh the Party, Peeps?

I have not been visiting lately because my computer is broke and I can't get it fixed because it is Happy Yuletide and nobody wants to work except me but of course I don't know how to fix anything so this is not going to help, so it is going to be awhile but I will be there eventually and how do you like this for a run-on? (I am using Scamp's puter; it is temporary. She is permanent, though.)

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I said awhile back I wouldn't post no more recipe posts. Of course I lied.

Xmas Cookies

1 C water
1 tsp baking soda
1 C sugar
1 tsp salt
1 C brown sugar
Lemon juice
4 large eggs
1 C nuts
2 C dried fruit
1 bottle Jose Cuervo Tequila

Sample the Jose Cuervo to check its quality.

Take a large bowl and check the Cuervo again to be sure it is of the highest quality. Pour one level cup and drink for this part of the recipe

Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add one teaspoon of sugar. Beat some more.

At this point it's best to make sure the Cuervo is still okay. Try another cup to make sure it is not going bad.

Turn off the mixerer thingy. Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruitcakes.

Pick the friggin' fruit off the floor. Mix on the turn-er. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a drewsciver.

Sample the Cuervo to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt or something. Check the Jose Cuervo. Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.

Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, somefink, whatever you can find.

Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees. Don't forget to bean off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through the window, finish the Cose Juervo and make sure to put the stove in the dishwasher.

Cherry Mistmas.

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My favorite word today is vacuum. N., good word for a spelling bee. Def.: Nothing, shut up in a box.

Santa Got Run Over by a Reindeer

For as long as I can remember, I've had amnesia.

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CHRISTMAS CAROLS FOR THE DISTURBED:

Schizophrenia: Do You Hear What I Hear?

Multiple Personality Disorder: We Three Kings Disoriented Are

Dementia: I Think I'll Be Home for Christmas

Narcissistic: Hark, the Herald Angels Sing About Me

Manic: Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Buses and Trucks and Trees and...

Paranoid: Santa Claus Is Coming to Town to Get Me

Borderline Personality Disorder: Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire

Personality Disorder: You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll Tell You Why

Attention Deficit Disorder: Silent Night, Holy ooooh Look at the Froggy...Can I Have a Chocolate?...Why Is France So Far Away?

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder: Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells.....

(For this little juicy bit, I owe Lois Lane.)

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My favorite word today is ignorance. N., how come you ain't winnin' no spellin' bees? Def.: If this is bliss, why aren't more people happy?

All About the Children From A.S.S.O.U.T.

Well, I guess nothing could be worse than this: Some punk college kid has come out in favor of showing your butt crack. I am having a hard time with this, for you know how much I am NOT in favor of asscrack. Woe is me.

Here's what I know about it: A University of Michigan sophomore, Tyler Perriman, 20, has created an organization known as American Students Safeguarding Our Underwear Technique (A.S.S.O.U.T.). This, he says, is an organization "dedicated to preserving the rights of people to wear their pants low." He adds, "We're here, we're sheer, and we like to show our rear."

Of course I can't let this go. As you know, I am President of the National Organization of Citizens Ready for Ass of the Concealed Kind (N.O.C.R.A.C.K.). I think we have way more members (9) than Perriman does (1). I am having business cards printed up. Let me know if you don't get yours, for N.O.C.R.A.C.K. simply has to defeat A.S.S.O.U.T. It's the American Way.

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Everybody -- I say everybody -- loves a good buttcrack joke, though. So go see this one.

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A guy took his blonde girlfriend to her first football game. They had great seats right behind their team's bench. After the game, he asked her how she liked the experience.

"Oh, I really liked it," she replied, "especially the tight pants and all the big muscles. But I just couldn't understand why they were killing each other over 25 cents."

Dumbfounded, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, they flipped a coin, one team got it and then for the rest of the game all they kept screaming was 'Get the quarterback! Get the quarterback!' I'm like....Helloooo? It's only 25 cents!"

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My favorite word today is adult. N., a former teenager. Def.: A person that has stopped growing at both ends but not in the middle.

We Were So Poor.....

So, a polar bear goes into a bar. He says, "Give me a gin..........and tonic."

Bartender says, "Sure; but why the long pause?"

Bear: "I don't know. My father had them too."

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My Sylvia says she was so poor, her rainbows came in black and white.

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Three men died on Christmas Eve and were met by St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.

"In honor of this Holy Season," said St. Pete, "you must each possess something that symbolizes Christmas to get into Heaven."

The first guy fumbles through his pockets and pulls out a lighter. He flicked it on. "This represents a candle," he says.

St. Pete says, "You may pass through the Pearly Gates."

The second guy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys. He shook them and said, "They're bells."

St. Pete says, "You may pass through the Pearly Gates."

The third guy searches desperately, and finally pulls out a pair of women's panties. St. Peter looks at the man with a raised eyebrow, and says, "And just what do those symbolize?"

The man replies: "They're Carol's."

So Merry Christmas.

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My favorite word today is ptarmigan. N., p as in t. Def.: A pkind of pbird.

Blue Ball Comes After Intercourse

If I had a bigger chest, you could see that this says.....oh, never mind. I think you can see what it says. What it says is I got this from my B**g Sister, Nat, also known as Tan Lucy Pez. See, she gifted me this because I am such a swell guy, and I model clothes so spiffily. (Or maybe she was making fun of my lack of prostate; I guess you'll have to guess, but all in all there is no question that I am spiffily.)

Intercourse, Blue Ball and Paradise are little towns out in the Pennsylvania country, near the Amish people. I don't know how close they are to Hop Bottom.

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The family is sitting at the dinner table.

The son asks the father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobies are there?"

The father, though surprised, answers. "Well, son, there are three kinds of breats. In her twenties, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her thirties and forties, they are like pears, still nice, but hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions."

"Onions?" inquires Junior.

"Yes. You see them, and they make you cry."

This infuriates both mother and daughter. So daughter asks, "Mom, how many types of 'johnsons' are there?"

The mother responds, "Well, dear, a man goes through three phases. In his twenties his johnson is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his thirties and forties it is like a birch tree, flexible but reliable. After his fifties it is like a Christmas tree."

"Like a Christmas tree?" inquires Daughter.

"Yes, dear, dead from the root up and the balls are for decoration only."

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I'm so old my high school swim team did laps in the primoridal pool.

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My favorite word today is fiber. N., you know, kinda like a fiberous begonia. Def.: What old people find in their carpet, and young people find in their vitamins.

Has Xmas Passed By Yet?

If you want an "art" treat, go see this guy. He is pretty crafty.

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Question: What did all the other reindeer say to Rudolph when he landed on top of Santa's head?

Answer: "You look like a deer caught in the head lice."

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You will be relieved to know: Old age does not last forever.

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Here's a partial re-run of a buddy's Christmas letter:

"'06 was busy, busy, busy! The first 4 mos. I worked two half-days at the slaughterhouse. Sometimes they let me answer the telephone.

"The next four mos. I traveled the West Coast as a side-show freak in Bob's Carnival. I was billed as "Geno, the World's Largest Midget.

"Finished the year peddling gift packs of spray-on meat...."

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Her husband, being unhappy with her mood swings, bought her a mood ring the other day so he could be able to monitor her moods.

They have discovered that when she is in a good mood, the ring turns green. When she is in a bad mood, it leaves a big red mark on his forehead.

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My favorite word today is net. N., practicing the lob shot. Def.: Holes tied together with string.

Hiya, Cookie!

My buddy Susiewants us all to post a cookie recipe and do a whole lot of other things today in honor of Wednesday the 13th. Or for some reason. (I guess it's called "Blog Cookie Exchange." I am not sending you any, so don't get excited. Make your own.)

Anyway, this struck a bell with me for I have just landed on the world classiest Chocolate Pepper Cookies ever you heard of (the pepper is the secret ingredient; don't tell nobody). And since I am the chief cook and bottle washer here in Oregon for me and the Scamp, here's my (somebody else's, really) cookie:

1 1/2 Cups unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 3/4 Cups granulated sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
3 Cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 1/2 Cups unsweetened cocoa, plus additional for rolling
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/3 teaspoon ground black pepper
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
4-6 ounces semisweet chocolate (for decoration)

(In case you doubted I can cook, here I am worrying some garlic to death.)

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar. Add the eggs and beat until mixture is fluffy. Sift together the flour, 1 1/2 cups cocoa, salt, black pepper, cayenne and cinnamon. Add to the butter mixture and beat until well mixed; if dough seems too soft, add up to 1/4 C up more flour. Shape into a flattened disk, wrap with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least one hour.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Dust a cutting board with cocoa and roll out the dough until it is 1/8 inch thick (it's best to roll out 1/3 of the dough at a time, leaving the remainder in the refrigerator until it's time to roll out). Cut dough into desired shape with a cookie cutter and set cookies 1-2 inches apart on baking sheets. Leftover dough can be rolled and cut out once more.

Bake for 8-10 minutes, or just until crisp. Cool on racks.

Melt the semi-sweet chocolate and drizzle randomly over the cooled cookies. You can do this by dipping a fork in the chocolate and then twirling it over the cookies. Allow the chocolate to set before serving.

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Now then, I am never going to do this again. So I hope you liked the cooking show cartoon in case you got pretty bored, like I did.....

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My favorite word today is ant. N., much busier than a grasshopper. Def.: A small insect that, though always at work, still finds time to go to picnics.

More Thefts

Here's something else I stole -- A few paragraphs from our local weekly:

"Nov. 4, 7:04 p.m. -- A library patron reported that she was browsing the book stacks on Oct. 29 when a man took a book off the shelf, sat down on the floor 4-5 feet away, and started masturbating.

"The man asked her if she needed him to move and she said no, then left.

"She thought he then followed her out of the library and continued following after she drove away in her car. She thought he got stuck in traffic."

(Yeah, that stuff can really be sticky.)

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An old man, Mr. Wallace, was living his last days in the Old Folks Bide-a-Wee Rest Home. One day he appeared to be very sad and depressed. Nurse Tracy asked if there was anything wrong.

"Yes, Nurse Tracy," said Mr. Wallace. "My Private Part died today."

"Oh," she said, unenthusiastically.

The next day, Nurse Tracy sees Mr. Wallace going down the hall with his Private Part hanging out of his pajamas.

"You shouldn't be going around like that, Mr. Wallace," she said.

"But," says Mr. Wallace, "I told you yesterday my Private Part had died. Today's the viewing."

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Life is like a dog sled team: If you ain't the lead dog, the scenery never changes. --Lewis Grizzard.

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My favorite word today is life. N., live long and live medium-well. Def.: A bitch that has puppies.

Lifted From the Locals

The Oregonian, our local daily, has a column called The Edge that is about offbeat stuff. I steal from it, because it steals from everybody else:

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"A hothpital retheptionitht in Waterford, NY, ith threatening to thue a hothpital that fired her becauth of her tongue thtud and other body pierthingth, thaying the pierthingth are part of her religion ath a member of the Thurth of Body Modificathion, whith claimth to have thapterth in Kentucky and Virginia. Further reportth, ath developmentth warrant."

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And here are some of the results of the Ignoble Awards, for achievements that "cannot and should not be reproduced":

Medicine: A US and Israeli team's discovery that hiccups could be cured with a finger up the rectum.

Ornithology: Two researchers from UC-Davis and UCLA for explaining why woodpeckers do not get headaches.

Acoustics: Three researchers from Chicago's Northwestern University for an experiment aimed at dfiscovering why the sound of fingernails scraping on a blackboard is so irritating.

Literature: Daniel Oppenheimer of Princeton University for his report, "Consquences of Erudite Vernacular Utilized Irrespective of Necessity: Problems With Using Long Words Needlessly."

And my favorite (you had to see this coming):

Nutrition: Two researchers from Kuwait for showing that dung beetles are finicky eaters.

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My favorite word today is youth. N., okay junior, this is a bird and this is a bee. Def.: A nice stage of life that is wasted on young people.

Finishing the Stroll

Ya'all know what a big fan of "mooning" and "buttcrack" that I am. For instance....

And furthermore, here comes Santa....

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My last post started a Stroll Down Memory Lane. This one will finish the walk....


I remember when any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceries, and nobody, not even the kid, thought a thing of it. When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents. When they threatened to keep kids back a grade if they failed -- and they did! When about the worst thing you could do at school was smoke in the bathroom, flunk a test, or chew gum. And the prom was in the gym and we danced to an orchestra.

When people went steady and girls wore a class ring with an inch of wrapped dental floss or yarn coated with pastel frost nail polish so it would fit her finger.

And no one ever asked where the car keys were because they were always in the car, in the ignition, and the doors were never locked. And neither were the doors at home.

Remember lying on your back on the grass with your friends and saying things like "That cloud looks like a...." And playing baseball with no adults around to screw things up.

Remember when things from the store came without safety caps and hermetic seals because no one had yet tried to poison a perfect stranger. And when being sent to the principal's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Basically, we were in fear for our lives, but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Our parents and grandparents were a much bigger threat. But we all survived because their love was greater than the threat.

Send this to someone who still remembers Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, Laurel and Hardy, The Lone Ranger, The Shadow, Roy and Dale, and Trigger and Buttermilk. Somebody old, like me....

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My favorite phrase today is old age. N., Let's hear it for Methuselah. Def.: When your back goes out more often than you do.

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

You know how I am about buttcrack. Well lookie here: A great swim suit rendition that nicely covers everything. Sort of. Kinda.

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Here are some things from childhood that you might not never heard of. This is way back before SEGA and Pac Man and funny wars in Iraq....

I'm thinking "Hide and Go Seek" at dusk. Sitting on the porch listening to Lum 'n' Abner or Fred Allen. Kick the can. Going home for lunch, penny candy from the store, hopscotch, skates with keys, Jacks, Mother May I?

Old Maid and Crazy Eights, wax lips and mustaches, saddle shoes and Coke bottles with the names of cities on the bottom, running through the sprinkler, bobby pins, Mickey Mouse Club, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Fran and Ollie -- all in black and white.

Around the corner was pretty far and going downtown seemed like going somewhere. Climbing trees and making forts. Lemonade stands, Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, pillow fights, ribbon candy, tinsel on the Christmas tree, Jackie Gleason, walking to the movies, being tickled to death, laughing so hard your stomach hurt, dodge ball, being tired from playing.

Don't step on a crack: You'll break your mother's back. Paper chains at Christmas, silhouettes of Lincoln and Washington, the March of Dimes, the smell of paste in school.

There were two types of sneakers for boys and girls: Keds and PF Flyer, and the only time you wore them was at school for "gym."

When nearly everyone's Mom was home when the kids got home from school. When nobody owned a purebred dog. When a quarter was a decent allowance. When you'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny.

When all your male teachers wore neckties and female teachers had their hair done, and wore high heels.

When you got your windshield cleaned, oil checked and gas pumped, without asking, all for free, all the time. And you didn't pay for air. And you got trading stamps. When laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the box.

(To be continued....)

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My favorite word today is aging. Adj., I was a little tad, once. Def.: The realization that you are not young enough to know everything.

We Are Not Yet Through With Christmas

This here is a pitcher some guy took up at the North Pole or some place where Santa hangs out. As he says, you ain't gonna see nothin' like this much -- bunch of suns and moons hanging low like buttcrack. Anyways, if you want to steal this for a desktop, feel free. Ain't mine.

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Alternative ending to "'Twas the Night Before Christmas", from the folks at the Rock-a-Way Rest Home (the picture below is courtesy of Hale McKay):

A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor.
'Twas just our director, all togged out in red,
He jiggled and chuckled and patted each head.

We knew from the way that he strutted and jived,
Our Social Security checks had arrived.
We sang -- how we sang -- in our monotone croak,
Till the clock tinkled out its soft 8-p.m. stroke.

And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds,
While nurses distribued nocturnal meds.
And so ends our Christmas at Rock-a-Way Rest,
'fore long you'll be with us. We wish you the best.

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In the Washington Post, readers were asked to list a movie and give an alternative title. One entry:

"The Alamo": "Immigration Reform: The Early Years".

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My favorite phrase today is changing times. N., when you and I were young, Maggie. Def.: Remembering when the air was clean and sex was dirty. --George Burns.

So, Getting Along With Ol' Nick

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

And Then Kipling Said......

My buddy Feelgood Haines jumped me bright and early today.

"Hoss," he says in that whiny pinched voice of his. "Folks tell me you been callin' me a hillbilly."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," I said disarmingly. "Everybody knows you West Virginia people is some kinda folks."

"I will have you know that 'hillbilly' is now politically UN-correct," says Feelgood. "We-uns is now officially 'Ozark-Americans.'"

"Huh," says I. (I am always ready with the riposte.)

"Yeah," Feelgood says. "So now excuse me; I got some possums to fry."

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I descended from a very long line my mother once foolishly listened to. --Phyllis Diller.

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The head doctor (conjures up visions, don't it?) is doing the morning rounds with his students. He pauses before a patient and says, "This man limps because his fibula and tibia are badly arched. Bernie, what would you do in a case like this?"

Bernie: "Yeah, well, um...Yes, I think I'd limp too."

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My favorite phrase today is middle age. N., when you and I were young, Maggie. Def.: When you still believe you'll feel better in the morning.

Happy Rabbit Day to You

This rabbit also is in training to learn how to open the refrigerator and to beg at the table. Naturally, I am the trainer.

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Okay, you know the drill: You say Rabbit! Rabbit! at the first of the month and you will have good luck all month long. I have been doing this for about six months now and have not won the lottery yet. But I am way ahead of the game, for neither have I bought a ticket. (This may not be luck. It may just be another example of how clever I am.)

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Grandma Fritchett went to a school function and won a new radio as a door prize. She then penned the following letter to the principal:

God bless you for the beautiful radio I won at your recent senior citizens luncheon. I am 84 years old and live at the Safety Harbor Assisted Living Home for the Aged. All of my family has passed away. I am all alone now and it's nice to know that someone is thinking of me. God bless you for your kindness to an old, forgotten lady. My roommate is 95 and has always had her own radio. Before I received one, she would never let me listen to hers, even when she was napping. The other day her radio fell off the nightstand and broke into a lot of pieces. It was awful and she was in tears. She asked if she could listen to mine, and I told her to kiss my ass. Thanks for that opportunity.

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My favorite phrase today is middle age. N., if you remember Ken Maynard. Def.: When a lady's hair turns from gray to black.