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.

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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!)

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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.

And to All, Good Nighty!

Here's a swell Christmas poem I got from LadyBug:

'Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-a-Way Rest,
And all of us seniors were looking our best.
Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;
Our punch bowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.

A bedsock was taped to each walker in hope
That Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.
We surely were lucky to be there with friends,
Secure in this residence and in our Depends.

Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts,
Like Angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.
The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,
And from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.

The bedpans, so shiny, all stood in a row,
Reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.
Our supper so festive -- the joy wouldn't stop --
Was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

Our salad was Jello, so jiggly and great,
Then puree of fruitcake was spooned on each plate.
The social director then had us play games,
Like "Where Are You Living?" and "What Are Your Names?"

Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,
Proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.
Our resident wanderer was tied to her chair,
In hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.

Security lights on the new fallen snow,
Made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.
Then out on the porch there arose quite a clatter.
(But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter.)

A strange little fellow flew in through the door,
Saying "Ho ho ho, ain't it bad to be poor?"
But he took all our presents, and went into the night,
"The Salvation Army just knew you weren't tight."

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My favorite phrase today is old age. N., which creeps me out. Def.: When you don't really care what the neighbors think.

Eeny, Meeny, and Harry

This cop sees the low-rider pull out of the Kentucky Fried Chicken parking lot. A bucket of chicken is on the roof of the car.

The cop sees his chance to be a Good Samaritan. So he hauls the guy over, grabs the bucket of chicken off the top of the car and says, in a happy tone of voice: "Want some chicken?"

Driver says: "No, thanks. I just bought some."

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How to Clean the House (I got this from ______. Fill in your name here.):

Open a new file in your PC.
Name it "Housework."
Send it to the Recycle Bin.
Empty the Recyle Bin.
Your PC will ask you: "Are you sure you want to delete 'Housework' permanently?"
Calmly answer: "Yes," pressing the mouse button firmly.

Feel better?

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Cleaning out the aviary at a run-down zoo, the keeper finds two finches have dropped dead from old age. So he puts them in a sack. In the monkey cage he discovers two of the oldest monkeys also have kicked the bucket. Waste not, want not, so he puts them in the sack with the finches and pitches them into the lion's cage at feeding time.

"Holy cow!" the lion roars. "Not finch and chimps again!"

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My favorite phrase today is dual careers. N., so who's taking care of the kids today? Def.: Reference to a fencing teacher.

Just Waiting Here

Waiting to see the doctor has become something of a science with me. I have had to see several medicos recently, and most of them are quite prompt in seeing that I do not have to wait in the waiting room. Instead, I am taken from the outer sanctum, where there are magazines, to the inner sanctum, which has no magazines. "Doctor will be right with you," I am told. (Why they don't say "the" doctor is beyond me. Maybe it is advanced baby talk.)

But, I say to myself, this is progress. I am not in the outer room waiting, but in the inner room waiting. "This," I say, "is progress, for the doctor will see me before he/she sees anyone in the outer room, because he/she has to empty Rooms A, B, C, D, E and F first. That means I am practically next in line."

In turns out I am next in line, but Rooms D, E, F, A and B seem to get emptied before the doc gets to room C, where I am, magazineless. There are things to read, though: You can while away time reading the diplomas on the wall. These are good for at least 2 minutes and 12 seconds, unless you are visiting an opthalmologist, where the nurse will dilate your eyes instantly so you can't see them.

You also get to wait without your clothes. The nurse says take it off, take it all off, and so you do. Then you spend time trying to get comfortable on the available seating, which usually is marble or stainless steel, with built-in refrigeration coils.

"Doctor" eventually comes in, says "How we doing?" I think, "We"? I answer: "I'm okay, but you seem a little peaked today. Lemme see your tongue."

+ + + + + + + +

My favorite phrase today is fast food. N., make haste, Pablo. Def.: What you eat during Lent.