The chances that I can Make My Pile of Cash the easy way -- inheritance, win the lottery, embezzlement -- are not high. So, as much as I hate to do it at my age (74 and counting), I might have to get a job.
My pal Judy is helping me out by sending me a ready-made application to Walmart, which goes as follows:
Name: Ol' Hoss
Sex: Not lately. Prostates don't grow on trees.
Desired Position: Missionary. Or, whatever's available. If I could be picky you think I'd apply here?
Desired Salary: $185,000 a year, stock options and a Michael Ovitz-style severance package. I'm willing to haggle.
Last Position Held: Target for management hostility.
Reason for Leaving: Sexual harassment. By me or of me, I'd rather not say.
Preferred Hours of Work: 1:30-3:30 p.m., Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, except when my bowling league convenes.
Have You Received Any Special Awards?: I may already be a winner of the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes, so they tell me.
+ + + + + + + +
Nobody can pay me to love you. I do that for free.
+ + + + + + + +
The campaign that Judy and I have undertaken to elect Maxine Knowsall as President has withered somewhat. We have not had a mention lately in the New York Times, People or US. And nothing on ABC, CBS or NBC. Of course, Maxine is mentioned all the time on the other network, for she is indeed a Fox.
One of the problems is that she hasn't been involved in a scandal, which is always good for a lot of ink. For instance, Hillary drew lots of attention a few days ago when it was reported that a fund-raiser working on behalf of the Grand Dame had fudged some numbers. Like a million dollars, maybe; small change.
So if it takes a scandal, I'm on it. Expect to see it reported in Variety that Maxine will be giving birth to Ben Affleck's child. Maxine and Jennifer Garner will be roommates in the hospital.
+ + + + + + + +
Dodehole: A hole drilled in a chipboard lavatory wall by homosexuals for any one of a number of purposes. -- Liff
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
More of Many Things About Hoss
The Administrator of the Home of Wizened Oldsters, where I am penned up, said they were gonna have a birthday party for me tomorrow.
Hoss: "It's not my birthday. I was born in October."
Administrator: "We're afraid you won't last that long."
+ + + + + + + +
On the off chance that she is correct, I better get around to telling you more of the 100 (or 200 or 500) things about me. I know you want this list of historicals because I am so damn important you wouldn't want to go to your grave not knowin' me as good as I do.
42. Bend, Oregon, has lots of cold weather in the winter. In the 1930's there were no clothes dryers, and the washing of the laundry wouldn't wait, which meant sheets would go on the outdoor clothesline. Where they froze as stiff as my pecker used to get. My brother and I would bring the sheets in, make a fort, and fire imaginary pistols from behind our cover until the sheets melted. This game never lasted more than 6 minutes.
43. I was reading a piece by my new best friend, Angie, in which she was reporting on her wonderful Grandmother who could "take her finger and poke a hole in the soil, plop something in and it would grow." Ol' Hoss has always been like that. I would take my thumb and "poke a hole in the soil, plop my thumb in it and it would grow green thumbs." This is why I always vote for green eggs and ham.
44. I spent a summer at the home of my maternal grandparents down in New Pine Creek, a tiny town on the Oregon-California border. On the 4th of July a firecracker I threw didn't explode, so I picked it up to light it again. THEN it exploded. Gramma applied a paste of water and baking soda. I went back to play. Another firecracker wouldn't explode. I picked it up with my good hand and THEN it exploded. Gramma applied a paste of water and baking soda and threw the rest of my firecrackers down the shitter. This is why I always vote against New Pine Creek.
45. When I worked for the Capital Journal in Salem, Oregon, I did a story once about a portable device the hospital had bought that would record the user's heart beat for 24-hour period. It was useful in detecting anomalies. So I wore the thing for 24 hours. On the printout there was a place where my heart skipped a beat. The diagnostician said this is normal. I didn't die until a couple of days later. This is why I almost quit voting.
46. A lot of internet people are "stay at home Moms" or "stay at home Dads." I am a "stay at home Grandfather." This is a helluva lot better deal than being a Mom or Dad. The Old Bastards Home where I live does all my laundry and cleaning and brings me food. My kids bring me Fixodent, cookies and Wild Turkey. I don't do nuthin' for nobody. I gave at the office.
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is chimera, because it reminds me of me. ("Chimera" can be interpreted as "something unbelievable." It also can be something like a Minotaur, which I am thinkin' of gettin' reincarnated as. Based on reader comments from the other day, I will NOT be gettin' reincarnated as a merkin.)
Hoss: "It's not my birthday. I was born in October."
Administrator: "We're afraid you won't last that long."
+ + + + + + + +
On the off chance that she is correct, I better get around to telling you more of the 100 (or 200 or 500) things about me. I know you want this list of historicals because I am so damn important you wouldn't want to go to your grave not knowin' me as good as I do.
42. Bend, Oregon, has lots of cold weather in the winter. In the 1930's there were no clothes dryers, and the washing of the laundry wouldn't wait, which meant sheets would go on the outdoor clothesline. Where they froze as stiff as my pecker used to get. My brother and I would bring the sheets in, make a fort, and fire imaginary pistols from behind our cover until the sheets melted. This game never lasted more than 6 minutes.
43. I was reading a piece by my new best friend, Angie, in which she was reporting on her wonderful Grandmother who could "take her finger and poke a hole in the soil, plop something in and it would grow." Ol' Hoss has always been like that. I would take my thumb and "poke a hole in the soil, plop my thumb in it and it would grow green thumbs." This is why I always vote for green eggs and ham.
44. I spent a summer at the home of my maternal grandparents down in New Pine Creek, a tiny town on the Oregon-California border. On the 4th of July a firecracker I threw didn't explode, so I picked it up to light it again. THEN it exploded. Gramma applied a paste of water and baking soda. I went back to play. Another firecracker wouldn't explode. I picked it up with my good hand and THEN it exploded. Gramma applied a paste of water and baking soda and threw the rest of my firecrackers down the shitter. This is why I always vote against New Pine Creek.
45. When I worked for the Capital Journal in Salem, Oregon, I did a story once about a portable device the hospital had bought that would record the user's heart beat for 24-hour period. It was useful in detecting anomalies. So I wore the thing for 24 hours. On the printout there was a place where my heart skipped a beat. The diagnostician said this is normal. I didn't die until a couple of days later. This is why I almost quit voting.
46. A lot of internet people are "stay at home Moms" or "stay at home Dads." I am a "stay at home Grandfather." This is a helluva lot better deal than being a Mom or Dad. The Old Bastards Home where I live does all my laundry and cleaning and brings me food. My kids bring me Fixodent, cookies and Wild Turkey. I don't do nuthin' for nobody. I gave at the office.
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is chimera, because it reminds me of me. ("Chimera" can be interpreted as "something unbelievable." It also can be something like a Minotaur, which I am thinkin' of gettin' reincarnated as. Based on reader comments from the other day, I will NOT be gettin' reincarnated as a merkin.)
Monday, May 09, 2005
Bigfoots: Mr. and Mrs. Everyman
Did you ever wonder, like me, what is your purpose in life? Maybe, like me, you are quite useful. I have many purposes in life, such as:
1. To give people headaches.
2. To exfoliate, so my carpet beetles have something to eat.
3. To make the owners of my Old Folks' Home rich.
4. To drink your booze.
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I have a friend up in Forks, Washington, that is practically in the heart of Bigfoot territory. I asked her why she never wrote about this in her internet piece. Here's what she told me:
"There is not much to tell, really, about the Bigfoot families. They'are about like everybody else; oh, a little more hairy, and sort of tall in the saddle, but they're nice enough. It's sort of too bad they all have the same first name -- Bigfoot -- but we work around it, calling them Bigfoot Mister, Bigfoot Missus, Bigfoot Baby. And Bigfoot Next-to-Oldest, Bigfoot Parolee, Bigfoot Pope, and so on.
"I guess outsiders would think it is a little strange to see the Bigfoot people going naked all the time. For for us who live here it's really nice to see what a real whang can grow up to be.
"We have Bigfoot Bowler and Bigfoot Soccer Mom over to dinner now and then. We usually eat outside so we can be with them as they graze in the garden.
"Bigfoot children are fun to play with. I guess their favorite game is Hide and Seek, which explains why they're so difficult to find once they're in the woods. They also like Kick the Can, where they have a really big advantage. And they especially like basketball. Shaquille O'Neal sends them shoes. Word is he was a Bigfoot Baby but got converted by some missionaries.
"I think the Bigfoots are somehow related to the Grizzly Bears. But the Bigfoots have much better penmanship.
"I guess the Bigfoot people are so ordinary you wouldn't think of writing anything about them. Maybe if one of them married Dian Fossey or Jane Goodall that would be worth a mention."
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
You are scrupulously honest, frank and straightforward. Therefore you have few friends.
1. To give people headaches.
2. To exfoliate, so my carpet beetles have something to eat.
3. To make the owners of my Old Folks' Home rich.
4. To drink your booze.
+ + + + + + + +
I have a friend up in Forks, Washington, that is practically in the heart of Bigfoot territory. I asked her why she never wrote about this in her internet piece. Here's what she told me:
"There is not much to tell, really, about the Bigfoot families. They'are about like everybody else; oh, a little more hairy, and sort of tall in the saddle, but they're nice enough. It's sort of too bad they all have the same first name -- Bigfoot -- but we work around it, calling them Bigfoot Mister, Bigfoot Missus, Bigfoot Baby. And Bigfoot Next-to-Oldest, Bigfoot Parolee, Bigfoot Pope, and so on.
"I guess outsiders would think it is a little strange to see the Bigfoot people going naked all the time. For for us who live here it's really nice to see what a real whang can grow up to be.
"We have Bigfoot Bowler and Bigfoot Soccer Mom over to dinner now and then. We usually eat outside so we can be with them as they graze in the garden.
"Bigfoot children are fun to play with. I guess their favorite game is Hide and Seek, which explains why they're so difficult to find once they're in the woods. They also like Kick the Can, where they have a really big advantage. And they especially like basketball. Shaquille O'Neal sends them shoes. Word is he was a Bigfoot Baby but got converted by some missionaries.
"I think the Bigfoots are somehow related to the Grizzly Bears. But the Bigfoots have much better penmanship.
"I guess the Bigfoot people are so ordinary you wouldn't think of writing anything about them. Maybe if one of them married Dian Fossey or Jane Goodall that would be worth a mention."
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
You are scrupulously honest, frank and straightforward. Therefore you have few friends.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Punch Bowl Is Callin' My Name
Here I am, an escapee from the Age of Stegosaurs, on my last legs, and people are trying to work me to death. First it was Judy and J & J's Mom saying I had to write a bunch of stuff about what I would do if I were any number of occupations. Then Modern Millie said I had to write stuff about books. And now Chenoah has me "Turd Tagged." I tell you girls, my brain is just about fried. I ain't used to thinkin'. I am more a man of action. Man of Steel, if you really wanna know. I did leap some tall buildings in my time.
Anyhow, when you get "Turd Tagged" you have to do a little poetic. The first and third lines are: "Turd in a punch bowl." The taggee has to write the second and fourth lines, on any subject, making sure they rhyme. So I gonna do this, only I'm pretending that Chenoah did the writing. Here goes:
Turd in a punch bowl,
It resembles Ol' Hoss.
Turd in a punch bowl,
Drowned. It's not a big loss.
Dang, Chenoah! I thought you liked me better'n that.
Bottom line-wise, I get to ask three other internet writers to take on this challenge. So I hereby Turd Tag the following: Jessica Rabbitt, That Damned Judy and Poopie. They're all good sports, don't mind being dumped on.
+ + + + + + + +
Something I read on the internet but I can't tell you where so I'm sorry:
"Witches don't have leaders. Granny Weatherwax was the most highly regarded of the leaders they didn't have."
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A Liff definition:
Gildersome: Descriptive of a joke someone tells you which starts well, but which becomes so embellished in the telling that you start to weary of it after scarcely half an hour."
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Anyone can do any amount of work provided it isn't the work he is supposed to be doing.
Anyhow, when you get "Turd Tagged" you have to do a little poetic. The first and third lines are: "Turd in a punch bowl." The taggee has to write the second and fourth lines, on any subject, making sure they rhyme. So I gonna do this, only I'm pretending that Chenoah did the writing. Here goes:
Turd in a punch bowl,
It resembles Ol' Hoss.
Turd in a punch bowl,
Drowned. It's not a big loss.
Dang, Chenoah! I thought you liked me better'n that.
Bottom line-wise, I get to ask three other internet writers to take on this challenge. So I hereby Turd Tag the following: Jessica Rabbitt, That Damned Judy and Poopie. They're all good sports, don't mind being dumped on.
+ + + + + + + +
Something I read on the internet but I can't tell you where so I'm sorry:
"Witches don't have leaders. Granny Weatherwax was the most highly regarded of the leaders they didn't have."
+ + + + + + + +
A Liff definition:
Gildersome: Descriptive of a joke someone tells you which starts well, but which becomes so embellished in the telling that you start to weary of it after scarcely half an hour."
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Anyone can do any amount of work provided it isn't the work he is supposed to be doing.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
'See Spot Run' and Other Books I Read
One of my newest buddies is Thoroughly Modern Millie, who is a 79-year-old lass on the East Coast who writes a piece now and then. Maybe I should say "former buddy," because she has saddled Ol' Hoss with a "meme" -- the one where you gotta guess what books you have read and are reading. I am onliest doing this out of respect for the aged (Millie has me by 5 years), but I hope nobody memes Hoss much more. I got some baking to get done. So don't get me riled. I got hot cross buns.
So here's what Millie laid on me:
"1. You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?"
Crapamighty! You mean, Do I want to get burned up now or later? I ain't gonna be no damn book in a bonfire. It is clear, though, that in the movie I should be cast as an intellectual.
"2. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?"
Damn right, Velvet Brown, the horse rider in "National Velvet." Elizabeth something or other, who just happens to be onliest 2 years younger'n me.
"3. The last book you bought was..."
"Locust," by Jeffrey Lockwood. I thought it had the recipe for chocolate-covered locusts. Turns out it was an insect-oriented shoot-'em-up.
"4. The last book you read was..."
"Ancient History," by J.M. Roberts. I am very big on things in the past, since I spend so much time there.
"5. What are you currently reading>"
Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.
"6. Five books you would take to a deserted island."
Don't nobody need no five books to get along anywhere, no how. You only need ONE book: The Oxford English Dictionary. It has all the words anybody could put in any book. All you gotta do is arrange and rearrange these words, and you got all the writin' anybody every done or will do. I guess the trick is in knowin' what order you wanta put the words in. It's a trick Ol' Hoss mastered years ago. As you well know.
"7. Who are you passing this job onto and why?"
I do not have any enemies to lay this on. So I guess the buck stops here, as Harry and I like to say. This is probably why I always vote against old ladies.
+ + + + + + + +
Because of the swell dream I had last night, my favorite word today is incubus.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
On Jeopardy, the answer is: "Dr. Livingstone I presume."
Question: "What is Dr. Presume's full name?"
So here's what Millie laid on me:
"1. You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451. Which book do you want to be?"
Crapamighty! You mean, Do I want to get burned up now or later? I ain't gonna be no damn book in a bonfire. It is clear, though, that in the movie I should be cast as an intellectual.
"2. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?"
Damn right, Velvet Brown, the horse rider in "National Velvet." Elizabeth something or other, who just happens to be onliest 2 years younger'n me.
"3. The last book you bought was..."
"Locust," by Jeffrey Lockwood. I thought it had the recipe for chocolate-covered locusts. Turns out it was an insect-oriented shoot-'em-up.
"4. The last book you read was..."
"Ancient History," by J.M. Roberts. I am very big on things in the past, since I spend so much time there.
"5. What are you currently reading>"
Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue.
"6. Five books you would take to a deserted island."
Don't nobody need no five books to get along anywhere, no how. You only need ONE book: The Oxford English Dictionary. It has all the words anybody could put in any book. All you gotta do is arrange and rearrange these words, and you got all the writin' anybody every done or will do. I guess the trick is in knowin' what order you wanta put the words in. It's a trick Ol' Hoss mastered years ago. As you well know.
"7. Who are you passing this job onto and why?"
I do not have any enemies to lay this on. So I guess the buck stops here, as Harry and I like to say. This is probably why I always vote against old ladies.
+ + + + + + + +
Because of the swell dream I had last night, my favorite word today is incubus.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
On Jeopardy, the answer is: "Dr. Livingstone I presume."
Question: "What is Dr. Presume's full name?"
Friday, May 06, 2005
Here Is Your Math Lesson
As you well know, I am incarcerated in a Home for People of the Octogenarian Persuasion because I am 74 186/365ths years along. And yet I am keeping up with you young whippersnappers. Sometimes I get ahead of the pack. For instance, I surf the internet by going "Point and Click." This is a method way ahead of its time. Probably I shouldn't have told you; now everybody will be doing it.
Anyways, I am pointing and clicking away and one time I land on the site of a fella named Shane. He is a Briton, but that don't keep him from being a helluva good writer, even if he does have to write in English. T'other day Shanester gave me the address of a place called Liff. I would provide you with a link but you don't want to go there because you would be there all day. The authors of that page provide us with, I guess, over a thousand words that aren't words, plus their definitions. As in:
"Cairnpat -- A large piece of dried dung found in a mountainous terrain above the cowline, which leads the experienced tracker to believe that hikers have recently passed."
+ + + + + + + +
Another buddy told me about his recent purchase of stuff at a Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl took his $2 and was trying to figure out the change. He took 8 cents from his pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, confused. He told her to just give him two quarters, but she decided to call the manager. When he tried to explain it, she stood there and cried. This is probably why:
Teaching Math in 1950: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit?
Teaching Math in 1970: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or $80. Did he make a profit?
Teaching Math in 1990: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.
Teaching Math in 2000:By cutting down beautiful forest trees, the logger makes $20. What do you think of this way of making a living? How did the forest birds and squrrels feel as the logger cut down the trees. (There are no wrong answers.)
Teaching Math in 2010: El hachero vende un camion carga por $100. La cuesta de production...
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is cairnpat.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Q.: What do you have when you have a lawyer buried up to his neck in sand?
A.: Not enough sand.
Anyways, I am pointing and clicking away and one time I land on the site of a fella named Shane. He is a Briton, but that don't keep him from being a helluva good writer, even if he does have to write in English. T'other day Shanester gave me the address of a place called Liff. I would provide you with a link but you don't want to go there because you would be there all day. The authors of that page provide us with, I guess, over a thousand words that aren't words, plus their definitions. As in:
"Cairnpat -- A large piece of dried dung found in a mountainous terrain above the cowline, which leads the experienced tracker to believe that hikers have recently passed."
+ + + + + + + +
Another buddy told me about his recent purchase of stuff at a Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl took his $2 and was trying to figure out the change. He took 8 cents from his pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, confused. He told her to just give him two quarters, but she decided to call the manager. When he tried to explain it, she stood there and cried. This is probably why:
Teaching Math in 1950: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit?
Teaching Math in 1970: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or $80. Did he make a profit?
Teaching Math in 1990: A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.
Teaching Math in 2000:By cutting down beautiful forest trees, the logger makes $20. What do you think of this way of making a living? How did the forest birds and squrrels feel as the logger cut down the trees. (There are no wrong answers.)
Teaching Math in 2010: El hachero vende un camion carga por $100. La cuesta de production...
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is cairnpat.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Q.: What do you have when you have a lawyer buried up to his neck in sand?
A.: Not enough sand.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Seeking the Fountain of Youngness
My buddy Surfie has noted my affinity for offbeat words and has challenged me to use the terms "troglodyte" and "loquacious" in the same sentence, and it must make sense. Hell, there ain't nuthin' Ol' Hoss can't do, because I just did it. Don't you see both words in the sentence above? Hoo boy I get a kick out of out-sharpin' people.
Well, okay, an honest try:
"That Hoss is an iggerant sumbitch who just rattles on about nuthin'." There, troglodyte and loquacious in the same sentence. A sentence with much truth to it.
+ + + + + + + +
Being as how I don't get out much, being confined by my oxygen tank to The Old Dinosaurs' Home, I do a lot of internet surfing. And one day, what to my wondering eyes did appear but a notice by a would-be Jonas Salk of plans to do some experimental medicine. On old people like me.
Well, I wasn't so much interested in getting worked over and on as I was in seizing an opportunity to Make My Pile. You see, I have made and been cheated out of more fortunes than Carnegie, Mellon, Rockefeller, Martha Bumfuck, Warren Buffett and my buddy Bill Gates ever had. Mostly I been ripped off by the Chinese, who copy my inventions and don't pay me any royalties. And then the IRS has busted my chops a time or two. So I'm still in need of Another Pile of Lucre. ("Lucre" is Messican for "rials.")
I got in touch with this experimenter fella, whose named happened to be Dr. Jonas Suck. I said to him, "For a piece of the action, say 10 percent royalty on any medicines you develop, I will provide you with all kinds of senior citizens: shut-ins, cast-offs, diaper-fillers, crips and fatsos. The worn out, the worn in, the dim-witted, the mute, the halt and the blind. Whatta ya need?"
Jonas, seeing as how I am a true American go-getter, levels with me. "What I am working up," he says in a conspiratorial way, eyeing the horizon for eavesdroppers, "is The Ultimate Pill. As a working title, I have designated it: The Ponce de Leon Special."
"Holy lickety brindle!" I busted out, like a bladder that has gotten too full. "The soda fountain of youth!"
"So what we need," says Dr. Suck, "is a volunteer to try these pills on. How about you, Mr. Ol' Hoss?"
"Hell damn NO," I sput (which is not quite a sputter). "I been young once, and it's like bein' the asshole of the universe. You got your colic, pneumonia, measles, diphtheria, whooping cough, acne, girl trouble, shotgun marriages, babies loading diapers with green shit, knee biters, Girl Scout cookie routes, athletic fees, drunken prom nights, college costs. The highlight of the month is delivery pizza.
"So, no thanks, Dr. Suck, to being young again. Once was too many. But I maybe got a candidate to do a trial run on -- Cassie Beenbad. She'll swallow anything. Well, I don't mean ANYTHING, if you get my drifter. But anyways, bring yer stuff over and we'll sluice it down Cassie's throat."
So, to make a long stupid story a little longer, that's what Dr. Suck and I did. And Lo the Behold! Cassie became young again. I mean, suddenly she is three months old.
"Look," I said, "this ain't gonna work out too good. If everybody gloms onto this pill, you and I will be the only people left to change diapers. AND I ALREADY HAD MY DAMN FILL OF GREEN SHIT!"
Both Dr. Suck and Ol' Hoss are still looking for a way to Make A Pile.
Well, okay, an honest try:
"That Hoss is an iggerant sumbitch who just rattles on about nuthin'." There, troglodyte and loquacious in the same sentence. A sentence with much truth to it.
+ + + + + + + +
Being as how I don't get out much, being confined by my oxygen tank to The Old Dinosaurs' Home, I do a lot of internet surfing. And one day, what to my wondering eyes did appear but a notice by a would-be Jonas Salk of plans to do some experimental medicine. On old people like me.
Well, I wasn't so much interested in getting worked over and on as I was in seizing an opportunity to Make My Pile. You see, I have made and been cheated out of more fortunes than Carnegie, Mellon, Rockefeller, Martha Bumfuck, Warren Buffett and my buddy Bill Gates ever had. Mostly I been ripped off by the Chinese, who copy my inventions and don't pay me any royalties. And then the IRS has busted my chops a time or two. So I'm still in need of Another Pile of Lucre. ("Lucre" is Messican for "rials.")
I got in touch with this experimenter fella, whose named happened to be Dr. Jonas Suck. I said to him, "For a piece of the action, say 10 percent royalty on any medicines you develop, I will provide you with all kinds of senior citizens: shut-ins, cast-offs, diaper-fillers, crips and fatsos. The worn out, the worn in, the dim-witted, the mute, the halt and the blind. Whatta ya need?"
Jonas, seeing as how I am a true American go-getter, levels with me. "What I am working up," he says in a conspiratorial way, eyeing the horizon for eavesdroppers, "is The Ultimate Pill. As a working title, I have designated it: The Ponce de Leon Special."
"Holy lickety brindle!" I busted out, like a bladder that has gotten too full. "The soda fountain of youth!"
"So what we need," says Dr. Suck, "is a volunteer to try these pills on. How about you, Mr. Ol' Hoss?"
"Hell damn NO," I sput (which is not quite a sputter). "I been young once, and it's like bein' the asshole of the universe. You got your colic, pneumonia, measles, diphtheria, whooping cough, acne, girl trouble, shotgun marriages, babies loading diapers with green shit, knee biters, Girl Scout cookie routes, athletic fees, drunken prom nights, college costs. The highlight of the month is delivery pizza.
"So, no thanks, Dr. Suck, to being young again. Once was too many. But I maybe got a candidate to do a trial run on -- Cassie Beenbad. She'll swallow anything. Well, I don't mean ANYTHING, if you get my drifter. But anyways, bring yer stuff over and we'll sluice it down Cassie's throat."
So, to make a long stupid story a little longer, that's what Dr. Suck and I did. And Lo the Behold! Cassie became young again. I mean, suddenly she is three months old.
"Look," I said, "this ain't gonna work out too good. If everybody gloms onto this pill, you and I will be the only people left to change diapers. AND I ALREADY HAD MY DAMN FILL OF GREEN SHIT!"
Both Dr. Suck and Ol' Hoss are still looking for a way to Make A Pile.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
I Think Ol' Hoss Is Getting Silly
I know some more things about me that you don't:
36. In another life I was the Grand Duke of Luxumbourg. When I tried to cash in, I was only worth half a grand. This is why I always vote against phony titles.
37. When I was a kid, one of my uncles made root beer at a family reunion. It was the best root beer ever concocted. I don't have the recipe, unfortunately. It would be an easy way to Make My Pile.
38. When I worked as a reporter in Yakima, Wash., I asked my boss if I could do a series of stories about all the gambling in the county. He asked the Big Boss, and the Big Boss said "no." Turned out he was involved in a high stakes poker game. So I quit that job and went to work in California. I didn't find any crooks there, so I just went ahead and exposed myself.
39. At Willamette University, I was elected president of a sophomore class honorary society at its first meeting. It was also our last meeting. This is why I always vote against meetings.
40. When I was in high school, I was editor of the school newspaper. One thing that caught my eye was that Phil Gillis was always taking girlfriends away from Freddie Meyers. So I write in my column, "A new nickname has been born. You may now refer to this lad as Freddie 'Is Gillis Kissing Her Now?' Meyers." Freddie kicked my ass.
41. My mother named me Lowell after a city in Massachusetts, and Eugene after a city in Oregon. I wish she had let me do it. I woulda picked cities in Iowa and Michigan: Dubuque Kalamazoo Maudlin has a nice sound to it. Or I coulda got first and middle names from just one city in Washington. I coulda been Walla Walla Maudlin. St. Augustine works good, too.
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is merkin.*
+ + + + + + + +
One of my fellow piece writers is a young lad calls hisself Cananopie. On Tuesday he directed his readers to a site where some folks are planning a convention on time traveling. In a FAQ section was this:
"I'm from the present and I'd like to attend, but I can't."
"No worries. If time travel is invented in your lifetime, you can always come later."
+ + + + + + + +
Hoss has been wondering:
If I get a tatoo of a naked woman on my chest, are the silicone implants an extra?
+ + + + + + + +
*"Merkin" is George W. Bush's pronounciation of "American." It also is a pubic wig, as in the 1964 movie "Dr. Strangelove," where the President was named Merkin Muffley.
36. In another life I was the Grand Duke of Luxumbourg. When I tried to cash in, I was only worth half a grand. This is why I always vote against phony titles.
37. When I was a kid, one of my uncles made root beer at a family reunion. It was the best root beer ever concocted. I don't have the recipe, unfortunately. It would be an easy way to Make My Pile.
38. When I worked as a reporter in Yakima, Wash., I asked my boss if I could do a series of stories about all the gambling in the county. He asked the Big Boss, and the Big Boss said "no." Turned out he was involved in a high stakes poker game. So I quit that job and went to work in California. I didn't find any crooks there, so I just went ahead and exposed myself.
39. At Willamette University, I was elected president of a sophomore class honorary society at its first meeting. It was also our last meeting. This is why I always vote against meetings.
40. When I was in high school, I was editor of the school newspaper. One thing that caught my eye was that Phil Gillis was always taking girlfriends away from Freddie Meyers. So I write in my column, "A new nickname has been born. You may now refer to this lad as Freddie 'Is Gillis Kissing Her Now?' Meyers." Freddie kicked my ass.
41. My mother named me Lowell after a city in Massachusetts, and Eugene after a city in Oregon. I wish she had let me do it. I woulda picked cities in Iowa and Michigan: Dubuque Kalamazoo Maudlin has a nice sound to it. Or I coulda got first and middle names from just one city in Washington. I coulda been Walla Walla Maudlin. St. Augustine works good, too.
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is merkin.*
+ + + + + + + +
One of my fellow piece writers is a young lad calls hisself Cananopie. On Tuesday he directed his readers to a site where some folks are planning a convention on time traveling. In a FAQ section was this:
"I'm from the present and I'd like to attend, but I can't."
"No worries. If time travel is invented in your lifetime, you can always come later."
+ + + + + + + +
Hoss has been wondering:
If I get a tatoo of a naked woman on my chest, are the silicone implants an extra?
+ + + + + + + +
*"Merkin" is George W. Bush's pronounciation of "American." It also is a pubic wig, as in the 1964 movie "Dr. Strangelove," where the President was named Merkin Muffley.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
I Love Me Best of All
When they whisked me outta the Old Folks' Home and trundled me to the hospital, I had no idea what was in store for me. Now I have found out: I spent $5,143.47 at the store. In three days. And I brought my own bedpan (I have the tricked-out Ferrari model, lined with fur off a baby seal).
To not coin a phrase, they must think I'm made out of money. "Money doesn't grow on trees," to not coin another phrase. "A fool and his money are soon parted," as long as we're busy not coining phrases. "Money is the root of all evil," ad infinitcetera.
So I sent the hospital a note, saying, "Please check your bill." They wrote back, "We checked with Bill, and Mr. Gates, the owner of this hospital, wants his money now!"
+ + + + + + + +
Trundle is my favorite word today.
+ + + + + + + +
Getting along with the 100 (or more) things you need to know about Ol' Hoss:
30. I was at a bar in Houston, and the band playing there was led by the famous James "Pappy" Self, who wrote the greatest fiddle tune of all time, "Orange Blossom Special." Pappy didn't make a dime off that song, because he never got a copyorvillewright on it. I shook his hand. Now I'm infamous too.
31. I have never had a "near-death experience," but my cousin did. When she came back to life I asked her what she saw. She said, "I saw my body from afar. I was really fat, and I was eating a Krispy Kreme." And then she died of hunger. I guess this won't be of much help to the Near-Death Experience Research Foundation.
32. I have a LOT in common with Bill Gates. My name is Gene. His name is Bill. We both have four letters in our name. Not everybody is so well-blessed.
33. I don't have a lot in common with Bill Gates. My apartment is 535 square feet. His house is 4,900 square feet, and counting. I am old; he is young. He's got lots of money; I got zilch. But someday I am going to invent something that will raise my net worth from nada to piddling. This is why I always vote in favor of inventions.
34. I once had a garden at home in which I raised celeriac, salsify, yard-long beans, ground cherry, kohlrabi and gophers. I was never a go-fer personally, but I knew some. They were afraid of my shadow.
35. I have been married five times -- twice to my present wife. This is not a brag; this is an admission of ox dumbness. This is why I always vote in favor of abortion of me, except it's too late.
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Matey says:
The man who smiles when things go wrong has thought of someone to blame it on.
To not coin a phrase, they must think I'm made out of money. "Money doesn't grow on trees," to not coin another phrase. "A fool and his money are soon parted," as long as we're busy not coining phrases. "Money is the root of all evil," ad infinitcetera.
So I sent the hospital a note, saying, "Please check your bill." They wrote back, "We checked with Bill, and Mr. Gates, the owner of this hospital, wants his money now!"
+ + + + + + + +
Trundle is my favorite word today.
+ + + + + + + +
Getting along with the 100 (or more) things you need to know about Ol' Hoss:
30. I was at a bar in Houston, and the band playing there was led by the famous James "Pappy" Self, who wrote the greatest fiddle tune of all time, "Orange Blossom Special." Pappy didn't make a dime off that song, because he never got a copyorvillewright on it. I shook his hand. Now I'm infamous too.
31. I have never had a "near-death experience," but my cousin did. When she came back to life I asked her what she saw. She said, "I saw my body from afar. I was really fat, and I was eating a Krispy Kreme." And then she died of hunger. I guess this won't be of much help to the Near-Death Experience Research Foundation.
32. I have a LOT in common with Bill Gates. My name is Gene. His name is Bill. We both have four letters in our name. Not everybody is so well-blessed.
33. I don't have a lot in common with Bill Gates. My apartment is 535 square feet. His house is 4,900 square feet, and counting. I am old; he is young. He's got lots of money; I got zilch. But someday I am going to invent something that will raise my net worth from nada to piddling. This is why I always vote in favor of inventions.
34. I once had a garden at home in which I raised celeriac, salsify, yard-long beans, ground cherry, kohlrabi and gophers. I was never a go-fer personally, but I knew some. They were afraid of my shadow.
35. I have been married five times -- twice to my present wife. This is not a brag; this is an admission of ox dumbness. This is why I always vote in favor of abortion of me, except it's too late.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
The man who smiles when things go wrong has thought of someone to blame it on.
Monday, May 02, 2005
The Women Are Picking on Me
Being an old fogey in an Old Fogeys' Home, I got plenty to do. Like, just this morning I was trying to figure out which way the loose end of the toilet paper roll should face. It was going to be my contribution to science. But I got interrupted by a couple of babes on my link list who want me to do a "meme." It's a sort of a cultural tell-all dealie.
One of these hot women is Judy, whose real name is Judy. The other is J&J's Mom, whose real name is Mom. What they independently decided was to ask Hoss to say what he would do if he were any number of 44 named professions (like, "If I could be a chef..."). Judy said I had to pick 3 from the list; Mom said I had to pick 5. I will do a couple and see how it goes:
1. "If I could be a farmer," I would raise lots of brown cows so all the children could have chocolate milk. I would recycle all the cow pies by putting them on the porches of all the people in the city, along with their newspaper. I would attach a note to each pie saying, "This is fertilizer. Feed it to your children so they can grow big and strong. Wash it down with milk from Ol' Hoss's Jerseys and Guernseys."
2. "If I could be a writer," I would write up some writings which ain't been written up before. I would scribble up so many writings that I would have enough pages for a book, and I would get a reputation as a scribbler. The name of this book would be the Holy Bible. It would contain some half-truths and other stuff.
3. "If I could be a proctologist," I would want to examine George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and Tom DeLay to find out which one is the biggest asshole.
4. "If I could be a filmmaker," I would make a movie starring Charlie Chaplin, the Marx Brothers, the Ritz Brothers, the Three Stooges, Buster Crabbe, W.C. Fields, Robert Benchley, Robin Williams, Jonathan Winters, Mort Sahl and Lenny Bruce. It would be pretty funny. It would run for 10 hours. I would put pay toilets in all the theaters.
5. "If I could be President," I would appoint women to every judicial vacancy, to every top military position, and to all the cabinet posts. Men are doing a really bad job because none of them has known the pain of childbirth or what it's like to have their boobs stared at. I also would make PMS illegal. My motto would be: "A chicken in some pots, and pot in all the other pots."
There were some other jobs that sort of struck my fancy.
"If I could be a missionary" I would go into Darkest Africa and get a suntan.
"If I could be an architect" I would construct all the houses in Tornado Alley out of cardboard, so it wouldn't cost so much to rebuild.
But I'm getting WAY too practical.
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is cauterize. I'm still thinking of those hot babes. ("Caught her eyes." Get it? Dope.)
+ + + + + + + +
Ol' Hoss needs to know:
What do penguins wear on casual Friday?
One of these hot women is Judy, whose real name is Judy. The other is J&J's Mom, whose real name is Mom. What they independently decided was to ask Hoss to say what he would do if he were any number of 44 named professions (like, "If I could be a chef..."). Judy said I had to pick 3 from the list; Mom said I had to pick 5. I will do a couple and see how it goes:
1. "If I could be a farmer," I would raise lots of brown cows so all the children could have chocolate milk. I would recycle all the cow pies by putting them on the porches of all the people in the city, along with their newspaper. I would attach a note to each pie saying, "This is fertilizer. Feed it to your children so they can grow big and strong. Wash it down with milk from Ol' Hoss's Jerseys and Guernseys."
2. "If I could be a writer," I would write up some writings which ain't been written up before. I would scribble up so many writings that I would have enough pages for a book, and I would get a reputation as a scribbler. The name of this book would be the Holy Bible. It would contain some half-truths and other stuff.
3. "If I could be a proctologist," I would want to examine George W. Bush, Dick Cheney and Tom DeLay to find out which one is the biggest asshole.
4. "If I could be a filmmaker," I would make a movie starring Charlie Chaplin, the Marx Brothers, the Ritz Brothers, the Three Stooges, Buster Crabbe, W.C. Fields, Robert Benchley, Robin Williams, Jonathan Winters, Mort Sahl and Lenny Bruce. It would be pretty funny. It would run for 10 hours. I would put pay toilets in all the theaters.
5. "If I could be President," I would appoint women to every judicial vacancy, to every top military position, and to all the cabinet posts. Men are doing a really bad job because none of them has known the pain of childbirth or what it's like to have their boobs stared at. I also would make PMS illegal. My motto would be: "A chicken in some pots, and pot in all the other pots."
There were some other jobs that sort of struck my fancy.
"If I could be a missionary" I would go into Darkest Africa and get a suntan.
"If I could be an architect" I would construct all the houses in Tornado Alley out of cardboard, so it wouldn't cost so much to rebuild.
But I'm getting WAY too practical.
+ + + + + + + +
My favorite word today is cauterize. I'm still thinking of those hot babes. ("Caught her eyes." Get it? Dope.)
+ + + + + + + +
Ol' Hoss needs to know:
What do penguins wear on casual Friday?
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Giggling Permitted; Also Yawning
Carolina Sister and Prudence Corsetstay, two of the stalwarts in The Old People's Home, were out having a cigarette in the rain the other day. Ms. Sister pulled out a condom, clipped the end off it, fit it over her cigarette, and continued smoking.
Prudence: "What the hell is that?"
Carolina: "A condom. This way my cigarette doesn't get wet."
The next day Prudence hied herself to the pharmacy and asked for a box of condoms. The pharmacist gives her a strange look, on accounta she is easily in her mid-80's. But he goes along with it.
Pharmacist: "Uh, what brand would you like?"
Prudence: "Don't matter, as long as fits on a Camel."
+ + + + + + + +
Did you see this? "Peruvian officials saved some 4,000 endangered frogs from being whizzed into popular drinks after they were found hidden in an abattoir....Frog cocktails are popular in the Andes because of their supposed aphrodisiac qualities." --Reuters.
Now, if Ol' Hoss can convince those el stupidos that they can get the same turn-on from slugs, I'll be glad to grind up every slug in Oregon for their drinking pleasure. I could Make My Pile.
"Abattoir" is my newest strange word.
+ + + + + + + +
Our candidate for President, Maxine Knowsall, bitch-slapped a right-wing radio commmentator who accused her of being an atheist.
"Wipe your mouth, sonny. There's still a tiny bit of bullshit around your lips."
+ + + + + + + +
You know how those search engines will come up with oddball phrases that direct people to your site? Even though you can't figure out why? I got one, from Yahoo. It said: "hot bitches for Arabs."
Hoss has NOT ONCE written about hot bitches. I DID once say that some of my best friends aren't Arabs.
You suppose they were talking about the inmate we got here name of Wilda Tightbuns?
+ + + + + + + +
There was a remark from a lady about my piece yesterday, saying she didn't know there was such a word as "ursine" (bear-like qualities). She also said she didn't understand why the NFL has the Chicago Bears when there are no bears in Chicago. She's right about that, and this fall they will be renamed the Chicago Ursines.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Get forgiveness now. Tomorrow you may no longer feel guilty.
Prudence: "What the hell is that?"
Carolina: "A condom. This way my cigarette doesn't get wet."
The next day Prudence hied herself to the pharmacy and asked for a box of condoms. The pharmacist gives her a strange look, on accounta she is easily in her mid-80's. But he goes along with it.
Pharmacist: "Uh, what brand would you like?"
Prudence: "Don't matter, as long as fits on a Camel."
+ + + + + + + +
Did you see this? "Peruvian officials saved some 4,000 endangered frogs from being whizzed into popular drinks after they were found hidden in an abattoir....Frog cocktails are popular in the Andes because of their supposed aphrodisiac qualities." --Reuters.
Now, if Ol' Hoss can convince those el stupidos that they can get the same turn-on from slugs, I'll be glad to grind up every slug in Oregon for their drinking pleasure. I could Make My Pile.
"Abattoir" is my newest strange word.
+ + + + + + + +
Our candidate for President, Maxine Knowsall, bitch-slapped a right-wing radio commmentator who accused her of being an atheist.
"Wipe your mouth, sonny. There's still a tiny bit of bullshit around your lips."
+ + + + + + + +
You know how those search engines will come up with oddball phrases that direct people to your site? Even though you can't figure out why? I got one, from Yahoo. It said: "hot bitches for Arabs."
Hoss has NOT ONCE written about hot bitches. I DID once say that some of my best friends aren't Arabs.
You suppose they were talking about the inmate we got here name of Wilda Tightbuns?
+ + + + + + + +
There was a remark from a lady about my piece yesterday, saying she didn't know there was such a word as "ursine" (bear-like qualities). She also said she didn't understand why the NFL has the Chicago Bears when there are no bears in Chicago. She's right about that, and this fall they will be renamed the Chicago Ursines.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Get forgiveness now. Tomorrow you may no longer feel guilty.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Thank You and Good Grief
I am VERY GRATEFUL to the bunches of you who come to read my pieces. And I love your comments. The comments are usually funnier than what I write. So I gotta keep writing so I can keep getting comments. It's a vicious circular.
Anyway, I usually don't comment directly on your comments. It's mostly for lack of time. See, I am reading, and commenting to when appropriate, 63 other writers. I just thought it was better for me to comment on your stuff than to comment on your comments. If you have any comment on this, comment away. (And now "comment" is becoming a funny word, like "ursine.")
+ + + + + + + +
This may not get a foothold in The Old Folks Home where I live, but the younger set seems to be asking: "Is Bladder Worship Wrong?" I mean, I'm seein' it on bumper stickers and T-shirts, so I suppose it's a legitimate question.
What it seems to stem from is the emphasis on urine tests in all forms of athletic endeavor. The Piss Police are all over the place, saying "Pee in the bottle, son. It won't hurt a bit." And son is saying to himself, "Will my bladder, that I adore, betray me this time? Will they find out I have eaten the yellow snow?"
It turns out that eating the yellow snow is not a crime. It's just piss-poor form.
+ + + + + + + +
The farmer, the wife and the 18-year-old daughter are in a snit. They all hate doing dishes. So Papa says, "Okay, the next person that says a word has to do the dishes." So they retire to the living room, reading, knitting, nodding off, beating off, whatever farm folks do.
Outside, a trucker has a breakdown. Seeing the farmhouse he goes thence and knocks on the door. He can see people but they don't stir. He opens the door, goes inside, and says, "I wonder if I can get some help?" They ignore the trucker. So he grabs the farmer's wife, takes her in the bedroom and has his way with her.
He starts to go back to work on his disabled truck and thinks, "Whoa. That young chick was pretty nice." So he goes back in and diddles the daughter.
The trucker then leaves and starts to work on his truck engine. His screwdriver slips and he skins his knuckles. So he goes back to the farmhouse and says, "Anybody got any Vaseline?"
And the farmer says, "I'll do the dishes!"
(A-one, a-two, a-three: GROAN.)
+ + + + + + + +
One of those cosmetologist types came to The Home this week, waning to exfoliate us all. You know, strip off our dead skin cells. She apparently didn't know that dead skin is food for carpet beetles, and a lot of them are our pets. She was just another dumb-butt, peddling cruelty to animals.
+ + + + + + + +
Ultraspy says:
Is it my imagination, or do buffalo wings taste like chicken?
Anyway, I usually don't comment directly on your comments. It's mostly for lack of time. See, I am reading, and commenting to when appropriate, 63 other writers. I just thought it was better for me to comment on your stuff than to comment on your comments. If you have any comment on this, comment away. (And now "comment" is becoming a funny word, like "ursine.")
+ + + + + + + +
This may not get a foothold in The Old Folks Home where I live, but the younger set seems to be asking: "Is Bladder Worship Wrong?" I mean, I'm seein' it on bumper stickers and T-shirts, so I suppose it's a legitimate question.
What it seems to stem from is the emphasis on urine tests in all forms of athletic endeavor. The Piss Police are all over the place, saying "Pee in the bottle, son. It won't hurt a bit." And son is saying to himself, "Will my bladder, that I adore, betray me this time? Will they find out I have eaten the yellow snow?"
It turns out that eating the yellow snow is not a crime. It's just piss-poor form.
+ + + + + + + +
The farmer, the wife and the 18-year-old daughter are in a snit. They all hate doing dishes. So Papa says, "Okay, the next person that says a word has to do the dishes." So they retire to the living room, reading, knitting, nodding off, beating off, whatever farm folks do.
Outside, a trucker has a breakdown. Seeing the farmhouse he goes thence and knocks on the door. He can see people but they don't stir. He opens the door, goes inside, and says, "I wonder if I can get some help?" They ignore the trucker. So he grabs the farmer's wife, takes her in the bedroom and has his way with her.
He starts to go back to work on his disabled truck and thinks, "Whoa. That young chick was pretty nice." So he goes back in and diddles the daughter.
The trucker then leaves and starts to work on his truck engine. His screwdriver slips and he skins his knuckles. So he goes back to the farmhouse and says, "Anybody got any Vaseline?"
And the farmer says, "I'll do the dishes!"
(A-one, a-two, a-three: GROAN.)
+ + + + + + + +
One of those cosmetologist types came to The Home this week, waning to exfoliate us all. You know, strip off our dead skin cells. She apparently didn't know that dead skin is food for carpet beetles, and a lot of them are our pets. She was just another dumb-butt, peddling cruelty to animals.
+ + + + + + + +
Ultraspy says:
Is it my imagination, or do buffalo wings taste like chicken?
Friday, April 29, 2005
A Bandwagon for Maxine
My friend Judy has enlisted me into the ranks of "Maxine for President." I agreed to join up because Maxine obviously cares about old people like me who live in Old People's Homes. For instance, one of her many mottoes is: "If you woke up breathing, congratulations! You have another chance."
I think the reason Maxine is in the race is because she knows there are so many of us ABHers out there -- the Anybody But Hillary clan. So maybe you want to join in the fun. Here, according to an email sent to me by Judy, is Maxine's stance on the issues of the day:
1. Driver Safety. "I can't use the cell phone in the car. I have to keep my hands free for making gestures."
2. Life: "Life is like an oven. It burns my ass."
3. Housework: "I do my housework in the nude. It gives me an incentive to clean the mirrors as quickly as possible."
4. The Perfect Man: "All I'm looking for is a guy who'll do what I want, when I want, for as long as I want, and then go away. Or wait nearby, like a Dust Buster, charged up and ready when needed."
5. Work: "My performance at work has really improved over the years. Now I can nail a co-worker with a paper clip shot from a rubber band at 20 yards."
6. Technology. "My idea of rebooting is kicking somebody in the ass twice."
7. Aging: "Take every birthday with a grain of salt. This works much better if the salt accompanies a large Margarita."
+ + + + + + + +
As long as I'm stealing, the S.P.E.C.E. (Society for the Preservation of English and Correct Speech is at www.specs.org.uk. It's a new site, started this month. It's a fun-in-cheeky place where language is more important than anything, even rabies and sexually transmitted disease. For instance:
"Society member Alice Sedgewick-Browne alerts us to the tendency of Welsh BBC newsreader Huw (sic) Edwards to split infinitives....we shall be monitoring the speech of Mr. Edwards very closely indeed."
And S.P.E.C.E. was forced to announce the departure of the Society's financial manager, who served well but "made the decision to step down after a series of public grammatical errors."
+ + + + + + + +
Maxine says:
"When the neighbors play music too loud, I dance naked. Shuts 'em down pretty quick."
I think the reason Maxine is in the race is because she knows there are so many of us ABHers out there -- the Anybody But Hillary clan. So maybe you want to join in the fun. Here, according to an email sent to me by Judy, is Maxine's stance on the issues of the day:
1. Driver Safety. "I can't use the cell phone in the car. I have to keep my hands free for making gestures."
2. Life: "Life is like an oven. It burns my ass."
3. Housework: "I do my housework in the nude. It gives me an incentive to clean the mirrors as quickly as possible."
4. The Perfect Man: "All I'm looking for is a guy who'll do what I want, when I want, for as long as I want, and then go away. Or wait nearby, like a Dust Buster, charged up and ready when needed."
5. Work: "My performance at work has really improved over the years. Now I can nail a co-worker with a paper clip shot from a rubber band at 20 yards."
6. Technology. "My idea of rebooting is kicking somebody in the ass twice."
7. Aging: "Take every birthday with a grain of salt. This works much better if the salt accompanies a large Margarita."
+ + + + + + + +
As long as I'm stealing, the S.P.E.C.E. (Society for the Preservation of English and Correct Speech is at www.specs.org.uk. It's a new site, started this month. It's a fun-in-cheeky place where language is more important than anything, even rabies and sexually transmitted disease. For instance:
"Society member Alice Sedgewick-Browne alerts us to the tendency of Welsh BBC newsreader Huw (sic) Edwards to split infinitives....we shall be monitoring the speech of Mr. Edwards very closely indeed."
And S.P.E.C.E. was forced to announce the departure of the Society's financial manager, who served well but "made the decision to step down after a series of public grammatical errors."
+ + + + + + + +
Maxine says:
"When the neighbors play music too loud, I dance naked. Shuts 'em down pretty quick."
Thursday, April 28, 2005
I Am What I Am and Then Some
The rent is going up here in The Home for the Aged and Unknowing. This makes it ever more necessary for Ol' Hoss to make his pile. I wonder if there's a market for edible diapers? How about square cones for ice cream? Candles made of ear wax? Tampax Twinkies? Let me know if I hit on something you'd buy.
+ + + + + + + +
Here's some more things about Hoss, the gem of the ocean:
28. When I was a student at Willamette University, a fraternity brother named Jack Larson took me on a flight in his biplane. As a reporter-photographer for the Albany Democrat-Herald two years later, I was sent out to cover the crash of a crop duster in which the pilot was killed. It was Jack. Shit does indeed happen.
29. When I was working in tourist promotion part of my job was to tell our staff photographers what pictures they needed to take for our ads. Traveling on a back road near John Day, a coyote crossed our path. My photographer was a former state cop who still packed a shooter. I said, "Kill the bastard." (Everybody knows coyotes are nothing but trouble.) The photographer said: "What did he ever do to you?" This is why I always vote in favor of coyotes.
30. In Lumber Camp No. 2 outside of Bend, the men-folk would sometimes pitch horseshoes. And sometimes we kids would run back and forth in front of the pitched horseshoes to show our bravery. Uncle Fred threw a shoe tht caught me right below the temple. They don't make kids as goofy as they used to.
+ + + + + + + +
There were six of us who used to drink beer at a place in Salem called Boon's Treasury, which at one time was the Oregon State Treasury. We had one thing in common: we were all gay. No, wait, NONE of us was gay, that's what it was. Just a damn minute. What we had in common was that we all liked to go on float trips down the Rogue River in Southern Oregon.
The leader of the pack was a Vietnam veteran named Mose. He survived the war because he snored so loudly that his Marine buddies would always have him on night patrol. He never slept for 18 months. He always votes against war.
This float trip we were on was a leisurely four days, communing with black bears and nibbling doobie brownies, which were cooked up by an insane guy from Eugene who was an extra in "Animal House."
On the second day of the trip, one of our guys from Boon's, Jerry, fell overboard and drowned while we were trying to get past the worst rapids on the Rogue. Damn. We still had two days to go to get to civilization. So we did what anybody else would have done: "Row the boat and drag Jerry. Row the boat and drag Jerry." This is why I always vote against drowning.
+ + + + + + + +
Hoss wonders:
Is it called "cock fighting" when there are two weenie wavers on the same corner?
+ + + + + + + +
Here's some more things about Hoss, the gem of the ocean:
28. When I was a student at Willamette University, a fraternity brother named Jack Larson took me on a flight in his biplane. As a reporter-photographer for the Albany Democrat-Herald two years later, I was sent out to cover the crash of a crop duster in which the pilot was killed. It was Jack. Shit does indeed happen.
29. When I was working in tourist promotion part of my job was to tell our staff photographers what pictures they needed to take for our ads. Traveling on a back road near John Day, a coyote crossed our path. My photographer was a former state cop who still packed a shooter. I said, "Kill the bastard." (Everybody knows coyotes are nothing but trouble.) The photographer said: "What did he ever do to you?" This is why I always vote in favor of coyotes.
30. In Lumber Camp No. 2 outside of Bend, the men-folk would sometimes pitch horseshoes. And sometimes we kids would run back and forth in front of the pitched horseshoes to show our bravery. Uncle Fred threw a shoe tht caught me right below the temple. They don't make kids as goofy as they used to.
+ + + + + + + +
There were six of us who used to drink beer at a place in Salem called Boon's Treasury, which at one time was the Oregon State Treasury. We had one thing in common: we were all gay. No, wait, NONE of us was gay, that's what it was. Just a damn minute. What we had in common was that we all liked to go on float trips down the Rogue River in Southern Oregon.
The leader of the pack was a Vietnam veteran named Mose. He survived the war because he snored so loudly that his Marine buddies would always have him on night patrol. He never slept for 18 months. He always votes against war.
This float trip we were on was a leisurely four days, communing with black bears and nibbling doobie brownies, which were cooked up by an insane guy from Eugene who was an extra in "Animal House."
On the second day of the trip, one of our guys from Boon's, Jerry, fell overboard and drowned while we were trying to get past the worst rapids on the Rogue. Damn. We still had two days to go to get to civilization. So we did what anybody else would have done: "Row the boat and drag Jerry. Row the boat and drag Jerry." This is why I always vote against drowning.
+ + + + + + + +
Hoss wonders:
Is it called "cock fighting" when there are two weenie wavers on the same corner?
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Amounting to a Hill of Beans
We oldsters in the Old Farts' Home are being given the opportunity to plant a vegetable garden in the vacant half-acre north of this place. It is not going well.
Joyce Greenfinger: "Right here is where we will sew the seeds for the pole beans."
Lettie Howdoesyourgardengro?: "You mean bush beans, right?"
Joyce: "Pole beans!"
Lettie: "Bush beans!"
Merle Hertz: "Look, I've got a pole, you girls got a bush. Let's settle this in my room."
+ + + + + + + +
There's a news report that Elton John will marry his long-time partner, David Furnish, late this year or early in 2006. People voting for a wedding theme song are betting on "I've Got You Under My Skin." (I know I promised never to be mean. Promises mean nothing to me.)
+ + + + + + + +
More things about me (I thought you'd never ask):
24. I played a round of golf once that took six hours. Along about the third hole, one member of our foursome, Junior Fastlife, kicked the bucket. So ever after that, for the rest of us, it was "Hit the ball, drag Junior. Hit the ball, drag Junior." This can really slow you down.
25. I learned to play bridge in college. I took a year of foreign language, German. Guess which of the two I still remember. Yeah, sure, guten tag to you, too. Eins, zwei, drei....7 spades, down 2, doubled and redoubled.
26. When my brother and I did bad, our Dad would spank us with a 3-ply razor strop. One day my brother, who is 20 months older than me, got spanked and refused to cry. So Dad quit spanking both of us. I owe my brother 20 months' worth of spanking.
27. In the 7th grade, I was trying out for the track team. I didn't seem to be able to run as fast as usual (and I was a FAST sumbitch, which I learned trying to run away from all those spankings which I deserved because I was so bad but that's another story). So I got home and told my Mom I seemed to be having stomach pangs and maybe I was hungry. Mom looked in what we called "The Doctor Book," diagnosed me as having appendicitis, and off to the hospital I went. I didn't make the track team.
+ + + + + + +
Matey says:
The severity of the itch is inversely proportional to the reach.
Joyce Greenfinger: "Right here is where we will sew the seeds for the pole beans."
Lettie Howdoesyourgardengro?: "You mean bush beans, right?"
Joyce: "Pole beans!"
Lettie: "Bush beans!"
Merle Hertz: "Look, I've got a pole, you girls got a bush. Let's settle this in my room."
+ + + + + + + +
There's a news report that Elton John will marry his long-time partner, David Furnish, late this year or early in 2006. People voting for a wedding theme song are betting on "I've Got You Under My Skin." (I know I promised never to be mean. Promises mean nothing to me.)
+ + + + + + + +
More things about me (I thought you'd never ask):
24. I played a round of golf once that took six hours. Along about the third hole, one member of our foursome, Junior Fastlife, kicked the bucket. So ever after that, for the rest of us, it was "Hit the ball, drag Junior. Hit the ball, drag Junior." This can really slow you down.
25. I learned to play bridge in college. I took a year of foreign language, German. Guess which of the two I still remember. Yeah, sure, guten tag to you, too. Eins, zwei, drei....7 spades, down 2, doubled and redoubled.
26. When my brother and I did bad, our Dad would spank us with a 3-ply razor strop. One day my brother, who is 20 months older than me, got spanked and refused to cry. So Dad quit spanking both of us. I owe my brother 20 months' worth of spanking.
27. In the 7th grade, I was trying out for the track team. I didn't seem to be able to run as fast as usual (and I was a FAST sumbitch, which I learned trying to run away from all those spankings which I deserved because I was so bad but that's another story). So I got home and told my Mom I seemed to be having stomach pangs and maybe I was hungry. Mom looked in what we called "The Doctor Book," diagnosed me as having appendicitis, and off to the hospital I went. I didn't make the track team.
+ + + + + + +
Matey says:
The severity of the itch is inversely proportional to the reach.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
A Little of Everything
Ol' Hoss may have been born too late to Make His Pile. In the early 1600's, explorers were making 32,000 (!) percent profit on nutmeg from the Spice Islands.
We don't get nutmeg here in the Home for Wizened People. That's because the only thing it's ever used for is to sprinkle it on egg nog, and we don't get egg nog, either.
We can get all the salt we want. Apparently there is no danger of running out. If salt was oil, gasoline would be 39 cents a gallon. Approximately.
I don't know why it's so difficult to Make My Pile. After all, my buddy Bill Gates and I went to the same school. It was called elementary school.
+ + + + + + + +
So this guy, Homer Badluck, has a great big red spot on his head, right above the bridge of his nose. He goes to the doctor.
Doctor: "What's going to happen is a wang is going to grow out of that red spot."
Homer: "A wang? You mean I gotta get up every morning and look in the mirror at a wang growing out of my head?"
Doctor: "You won't see it. The balls will be in your eyes."
+ + + + + + + +
A cannibal goes into the bar looking grim.
Bartender: "What's the matter with you?"
Cannibal: "I'm fed up with people."
+ + + + + + + +
Some people have asked me who the hell is "Matey" that I keep quoting. He is an Australian Good Ol' Boy what got some smarts. He is the one who said: "Is there another word for synonym?" I have no shame. I will steal from anybody.
I also found this on the Internet. Wrote it down and forgot to note who said it. It's worth knowing:
"I got fired from my job, it rained in Vermont, and I had my period."
+ + + + + + + +
When my buddy Bud was working in a food-canning factory, the boss called a meeting one morning when things were going to hell.
Boss: "What we have here is a failure of communication."
Bud: "Nobody told me!"
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
We don't get nutmeg here in the Home for Wizened People. That's because the only thing it's ever used for is to sprinkle it on egg nog, and we don't get egg nog, either.
We can get all the salt we want. Apparently there is no danger of running out. If salt was oil, gasoline would be 39 cents a gallon. Approximately.
I don't know why it's so difficult to Make My Pile. After all, my buddy Bill Gates and I went to the same school. It was called elementary school.
+ + + + + + + +
So this guy, Homer Badluck, has a great big red spot on his head, right above the bridge of his nose. He goes to the doctor.
Doctor: "What's going to happen is a wang is going to grow out of that red spot."
Homer: "A wang? You mean I gotta get up every morning and look in the mirror at a wang growing out of my head?"
Doctor: "You won't see it. The balls will be in your eyes."
+ + + + + + + +
A cannibal goes into the bar looking grim.
Bartender: "What's the matter with you?"
Cannibal: "I'm fed up with people."
+ + + + + + + +
Some people have asked me who the hell is "Matey" that I keep quoting. He is an Australian Good Ol' Boy what got some smarts. He is the one who said: "Is there another word for synonym?" I have no shame. I will steal from anybody.
I also found this on the Internet. Wrote it down and forgot to note who said it. It's worth knowing:
"I got fired from my job, it rained in Vermont, and I had my period."
+ + + + + + + +
When my buddy Bud was working in a food-canning factory, the boss called a meeting one morning when things were going to hell.
Boss: "What we have here is a failure of communication."
Bud: "Nobody told me!"
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Atheism is a non-prophet organization.
Monday, April 25, 2005
This Is Kind of Sad, Folks
Somebody once opined that I seem too lively to be living in an Old Folks' Home, and she wondered why I am a shut-in. I been putting this off because the answer is pretty sad. And believe me, Ol' Hoss knows sadness. Like, one year the U.S. Citizens elect George W. Barney Rubble and the next year the St. Louis Cardinal Catholics elect Fred Flintstone. Stone Agers uniting. This is pretty sad.
But this is sadder than that. You see, my wife has a rare disease called Progressive Supranuclear Palsy (PSP). Its cause is unknown and a cure is non-existent. PSP is an attack on motor skills. My wife cannot walk, and must have help rising and being seated. Her sense of balance is gone, and she has fallen frequently. She cannot dress herself. She cannot feed herself. Her eyesight is failing. But her heart is strong. She has never once said "Why me?".
I cried when I first drafted this piece. Which does nobody no good. I used to cry a lot, feeling so sorry for my wife, but I got some good advice from my buddy Lois Lane so I don't do that much anymore. So don't feel sorry for us. We're doing fine.
Shifting gears just a little, let me tell you that I detest bigots and religious nuts and pedophiles and rapists and the like. I can't stand People Who Know What's Best for You (see: religious nuts). None of those folks has a sense of humor. So that's how Hoss gets even, by exercising his funny bone. So let's do some more getting even:
+ + + + + + + +
I have slowly been tellin' you all about me. Which, of course, is the most interesting stuff you will ever read on the Internet. I can't blame you for pinin' because I haven't got all "100 Things About Hoss" laid out where you can get at 'em. But I am just being kind to you. If I showed you all 100 all at once, you'd pass out from delight and probably get hit by a train. Here, though, is No.
22. When I was a newborn, my brother nicknamed me "Babe." I was Babe Maudlin until I got my first job as a reporter in Albany, Ore., when I decided I would be Gene (middle name is Eugene) Maudlin. So my boss tried to introduce me to the police chief, but HE HAD FORGOTTEN MY NAME! So I saved the situation. "Chief, glad to know you," I said. "I'm Babe Maudlin." Dunce caps all around.
23. In high school I starred (naturally) in two school plays. In one of them I sang:
"I am the ghost of Tutankhmun,
"And I'll haunt your vampire woman,
"Everywhere she goes.
"She's a modernized Egyptian,
"I can tell by old inscriptions,"
"I'm the man who knows."
Pretty sappy. I don't think I have any of the advertising posters left. I know you wanted one.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
The probability of meeting someone you know increases when you are with someone you don't want to be seen with.
But this is sadder than that. You see, my wife has a rare disease called Progressive Supranuclear Palsy (PSP). Its cause is unknown and a cure is non-existent. PSP is an attack on motor skills. My wife cannot walk, and must have help rising and being seated. Her sense of balance is gone, and she has fallen frequently. She cannot dress herself. She cannot feed herself. Her eyesight is failing. But her heart is strong. She has never once said "Why me?".
I cried when I first drafted this piece. Which does nobody no good. I used to cry a lot, feeling so sorry for my wife, but I got some good advice from my buddy Lois Lane so I don't do that much anymore. So don't feel sorry for us. We're doing fine.
Shifting gears just a little, let me tell you that I detest bigots and religious nuts and pedophiles and rapists and the like. I can't stand People Who Know What's Best for You (see: religious nuts). None of those folks has a sense of humor. So that's how Hoss gets even, by exercising his funny bone. So let's do some more getting even:
+ + + + + + + +
I have slowly been tellin' you all about me. Which, of course, is the most interesting stuff you will ever read on the Internet. I can't blame you for pinin' because I haven't got all "100 Things About Hoss" laid out where you can get at 'em. But I am just being kind to you. If I showed you all 100 all at once, you'd pass out from delight and probably get hit by a train. Here, though, is No.
22. When I was a newborn, my brother nicknamed me "Babe." I was Babe Maudlin until I got my first job as a reporter in Albany, Ore., when I decided I would be Gene (middle name is Eugene) Maudlin. So my boss tried to introduce me to the police chief, but HE HAD FORGOTTEN MY NAME! So I saved the situation. "Chief, glad to know you," I said. "I'm Babe Maudlin." Dunce caps all around.
23. In high school I starred (naturally) in two school plays. In one of them I sang:
"I am the ghost of Tutankhmun,
"And I'll haunt your vampire woman,
"Everywhere she goes.
"She's a modernized Egyptian,
"I can tell by old inscriptions,"
"I'm the man who knows."
Pretty sappy. I don't think I have any of the advertising posters left. I know you wanted one.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
The probability of meeting someone you know increases when you are with someone you don't want to be seen with.
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Oh the Things I Could Have Been
Yesterday, the Oldest Known Blogger (79-year-old Ancient Mom in my Geriatric Ward) published a recipe for potato latkes. Beings as I am surrounded by Old People here in The Old People's Home, I should go around and get recipes from them to share with you. I bet they got some dandies, like:
WILTED LETTUCE, by Myrtle Foodpush
Fry up 6 pounds of bacon
Wash up 2 bushels of lettuce
Pour the bacon grease over the lettuce
Crumble the bacon and spread it on top
Serves 24. Takes all day. (Myrtle said that as a farmer's wife she never cooked for less than 24 children and farmhands. "I don't know any little recipes," she said.)
+ + + + + + + +
Awhile back I said that I had had 15 different jobs in my adult profesional persuasion. Here are some of the jobs I DIDN'T have:
-- Meter reader, tarot card reader
-- Catalyst, analyst, amethyst
-- Nay-sayer, sooth-sayer, egg layer
-- Pimp, pimple
-- Cock fighter, cock blower, clock watcher, cuckoo clock
-- Jockey, midget, dwarf, Tiny Tim, Lilliputian
-- Tyro, pyro
-- Carnival barker, seal barker, dog walker, fast talker
-- Pearl diver, muff diver
-- Specialist, speculum, spic
-- Haberdasher, slasher, masher, flasher, Lash Larue
-- Farmer, charmer, alarmer
-- Politician, academician, electrician, magician
-- Driller, killer (but I am vaniller)
+ + + + + + + +
Because I know good writin' and readin' when I see it, I want y'all to go visit Esther Wilberforce-Packard here. Her stuff is odd, strange, weird and zany. Read several of her little pieces. And let a smile be your umbrella.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill.
WILTED LETTUCE, by Myrtle Foodpush
Fry up 6 pounds of bacon
Wash up 2 bushels of lettuce
Pour the bacon grease over the lettuce
Crumble the bacon and spread it on top
Serves 24. Takes all day. (Myrtle said that as a farmer's wife she never cooked for less than 24 children and farmhands. "I don't know any little recipes," she said.)
+ + + + + + + +
Awhile back I said that I had had 15 different jobs in my adult profesional persuasion. Here are some of the jobs I DIDN'T have:
-- Meter reader, tarot card reader
-- Catalyst, analyst, amethyst
-- Nay-sayer, sooth-sayer, egg layer
-- Pimp, pimple
-- Cock fighter, cock blower, clock watcher, cuckoo clock
-- Jockey, midget, dwarf, Tiny Tim, Lilliputian
-- Tyro, pyro
-- Carnival barker, seal barker, dog walker, fast talker
-- Pearl diver, muff diver
-- Specialist, speculum, spic
-- Haberdasher, slasher, masher, flasher, Lash Larue
-- Farmer, charmer, alarmer
-- Politician, academician, electrician, magician
-- Driller, killer (but I am vaniller)
+ + + + + + + +
Because I know good writin' and readin' when I see it, I want y'all to go visit Esther Wilberforce-Packard here. Her stuff is odd, strange, weird and zany. Read several of her little pieces. And let a smile be your umbrella.
+ + + + + + + +
Matey says:
Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill.
Saturday, April 23, 2005
The Ancients Can Play Games, Too
There is a general feeling here at The Home for the Horse and Buggy-whipped that the Olympic Games are unfair to old people. You have to be pretty damn hale and hearty to participate in stuff like mud wrestling, basketball showboating, and 100 meter dashers, donners and blitzens. Hale and hearty = young.
Our inmate Whose Daughter Is a Lawyer wants to file suit for age discrimination. But Carolina Sister had a better plan, I think. "We will develop a competing tournament, where haleness and heartiness won't mean diddly squat. It will be for Old People. And we will call it The Ancients' Games."
Ol' Hoss: "What kind of competitions do you have in mind, Mrs. Sister?"
Carolina Sister: "I'm sure everybody here has some good ideas. But, for a start, how about Crosswords? The winner would be the person who provides the most definitions of 'cross', such as vexatious and angryness. People in wheelchairs could play."
Hope Eternalspring: "Why yes, and how about the person who can name the most body parts, like brain and asshole?"
Clancy Applerot: "And then we segue right into contests for pus squeezing, mole counting, and needle threading."
Ben Gonefishin: "I'd like to see a category for retired pedophiles. Kind of like synchronized swimming: we'll rate the contests on style and sincerity."
Maude Frickert: "And don't forget cow chip spitting and the watermelon seed toss."
Carolina Sister: "Okay, then, it's settled. The only thing left to decide is whether we want this on NBC or ESPN. I do so like Chris Berman on ESPN. He calls me Carolina Sister City. Isn't that precious?"
+ + + + + + + +
I'm pretty damn smart, but computers have got my pencil whittled. I'm having a hard time figuring out how to link other sites on the Internet. But I got some help from my buddies Raehan and Steve Bottle Rocket, so today I'm going to try to make a link. Do me a favor and see if you can find Raehan here.
+ + + + + + + +
Ol' Hoss says:
You know you have Internet anxiety when you start commenting on posts before they are written.
Our inmate Whose Daughter Is a Lawyer wants to file suit for age discrimination. But Carolina Sister had a better plan, I think. "We will develop a competing tournament, where haleness and heartiness won't mean diddly squat. It will be for Old People. And we will call it The Ancients' Games."
Ol' Hoss: "What kind of competitions do you have in mind, Mrs. Sister?"
Carolina Sister: "I'm sure everybody here has some good ideas. But, for a start, how about Crosswords? The winner would be the person who provides the most definitions of 'cross', such as vexatious and angryness. People in wheelchairs could play."
Hope Eternalspring: "Why yes, and how about the person who can name the most body parts, like brain and asshole?"
Clancy Applerot: "And then we segue right into contests for pus squeezing, mole counting, and needle threading."
Ben Gonefishin: "I'd like to see a category for retired pedophiles. Kind of like synchronized swimming: we'll rate the contests on style and sincerity."
Maude Frickert: "And don't forget cow chip spitting and the watermelon seed toss."
Carolina Sister: "Okay, then, it's settled. The only thing left to decide is whether we want this on NBC or ESPN. I do so like Chris Berman on ESPN. He calls me Carolina Sister City. Isn't that precious?"
+ + + + + + + +
I'm pretty damn smart, but computers have got my pencil whittled. I'm having a hard time figuring out how to link other sites on the Internet. But I got some help from my buddies Raehan and Steve Bottle Rocket, so today I'm going to try to make a link. Do me a favor and see if you can find Raehan here.
+ + + + + + + +
Ol' Hoss says:
You know you have Internet anxiety when you start commenting on posts before they are written.
Friday, April 22, 2005
I Live and Learn, and So Do You
Greetings from the Worn-Out and Down Home, where living in the past is a fine art form. We are all anxiously awaiting the Kentucky Derby, where we understand Man O' War is the heavy favorite.
+ + + + + + + +
Following is some information about me you just can't get on Google or Yahoo. As some of you know, I am writing 100 things about why I am famous. Today we have an eclectic selection. We left off at No. 15 in past pieces, so we start with No.
16. In the summer of when I was 12, I got in a fist fight and wound up with a broken arm. In the summer of when I was 24 I got in a fist fight and wound up with a broken nose. This is why I always vote against summer.
17. Other people have opinions. Everything I say is a fact. There is no guesswork involved.
18. When I was 14 my Mom had to have a hysterectomy. While she was in the hospital my Dad, a tree faller, got his back broken by a falling snag and had to be hospitalized. This is why I always vote against hospitals.
19. I pitched softball in my late teens. In my first game in Bend City League I gave up 10 runs to a team of young players. The next time we played them I pitched a no-hit, no-run game. I was 19. The tavern that sponsored us let me drink celebratory beer. Hoo boy.
20. In college, like all the other poor buttwipes that were science challenged, I had to dissect a frog. This is why I always vote against frogs.
21. I am an excellent cook. I even developed my own cookbook. The leading recipe was a Mexican dish I called "I Wish I Could Chimichanga Like My Sister Kate." That would be pretty funny, except you young people probably never heard of a dance called "the shimmy."* This is why I always vote against young people.
+ + + + + + + +
The Matey says:
Is there another word for synonym?
+ + + + + + + +
*In 1917, Spencer Williams sang: "I can't play no piano, can't sing no blues, but I can Shim-Me-Sha-Wabble from my head to my toes." The song "I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate" came later, you uneducated hicks.
+ + + + + + + +
Following is some information about me you just can't get on Google or Yahoo. As some of you know, I am writing 100 things about why I am famous. Today we have an eclectic selection. We left off at No. 15 in past pieces, so we start with No.
16. In the summer of when I was 12, I got in a fist fight and wound up with a broken arm. In the summer of when I was 24 I got in a fist fight and wound up with a broken nose. This is why I always vote against summer.
17. Other people have opinions. Everything I say is a fact. There is no guesswork involved.
18. When I was 14 my Mom had to have a hysterectomy. While she was in the hospital my Dad, a tree faller, got his back broken by a falling snag and had to be hospitalized. This is why I always vote against hospitals.
19. I pitched softball in my late teens. In my first game in Bend City League I gave up 10 runs to a team of young players. The next time we played them I pitched a no-hit, no-run game. I was 19. The tavern that sponsored us let me drink celebratory beer. Hoo boy.
20. In college, like all the other poor buttwipes that were science challenged, I had to dissect a frog. This is why I always vote against frogs.
21. I am an excellent cook. I even developed my own cookbook. The leading recipe was a Mexican dish I called "I Wish I Could Chimichanga Like My Sister Kate." That would be pretty funny, except you young people probably never heard of a dance called "the shimmy."* This is why I always vote against young people.
+ + + + + + + +
The Matey says:
Is there another word for synonym?
+ + + + + + + +
*In 1917, Spencer Williams sang: "I can't play no piano, can't sing no blues, but I can Shim-Me-Sha-Wabble from my head to my toes." The song "I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate" came later, you uneducated hicks.
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