Just Hunker Down

The psycho cats are worth a look-see, according to me.

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Sometimes, the most joyful moment of my day is sitting down on the toilet. How about yours? (This gem comes to us courtesy of Vitamin Sea, down there in FLA.)

This, by the by, is FLA.

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As long as we're in Florida:

A Florida senior citizen drove his brand new Corvette out of the dealership. Taking to the road, he floored it to 80, enjoying the wind blowing through what little hair he had left. "Amazing," he thought, as he flew down I-75. Looking in his rearview mirror he saw the highway patrol behind him, blue lights flashing and siren blaring.

So he did naturally what any Florida boy would do: He gunned it to 100, then 110, then 120! But then he thought, "What am I doing? I am too old for this." And so he pulled to the side of the road.

The trooper walked up and said, "Sir, my shift ends in 30 minutes. Today is Friday. If you can give me a reason for speeding that I've never heard before, I'll let you go."

The old gentleman paused, then said, "Years ago my wife ran off with a Florida state trooper. I thought you were bringing her back."

"Have a good day, sir," replied the trooper.

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Groucho Marx: "Peter O'Toole is really lucky. He has two penis names."

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My favorite word today is testickle. N., let your ball hair hang low. Def.: A humorous question on an exam.

The Peachy Sumbeach

10:30 a.m., 8/25 -- Facing a drive of 106 miles from Wilsonville to Newport, Ore., we get off to a late start, on account of I packed too much stuff: tooth glue, two inhalers, Ambesol, hair brush, extra camera batteries, extra hearing aid batteries, extra TENS* battery, air gauge, razor, cotton swabs, ear medicine, nasal spray, harmonica, phone, dung beetle decoder ring, vitamins, thyroid medicine, chloresterol pills, Tylenol 3, sleep aids. Maybe that's all. Oh, wait: shorts, t-shirts, shirts, pants, socks, coat, hat, aerator, extra cannula.

12:15 p.m., 8/25 -- Blackfish Cafe, Lincoln City. Interesting little place. Scamp had, for dessert, a thing called "Pot o Creme." Smooth as silk, hardly any calories (two eggs, rum, whipping cream). Later: "O the joy! Ocian in view!!" Which is what Lewis, or Clark, said on reaching the Oregon Coast. They wound up in the rainy part. We had nothing but sunshine.



3:30 p.m. 8/25 The Whaler, a motel for discriminating people like Scamp and me. This is a view from our window. As you can see, the Pacific Ocean is quite large. (I think it goes all the way to China, where the Chinese throw in the pollution that causes global warming.)

4 p.m., 8/25 This flick is of Boiler Bay. It is not good for much, but does show that the Pacific Ocean is blue, as opposed to the Atlantic Ocean, which is green. The green comes from envy.

5 p.m., 8/25 Picked up some fresh crab at a local gin mill. Ate it with Wheat Thins and Avocado, which we brought along just for this purpose. I ate with vodka. Scamp had wine. We overnighted quite nicely.

8:30 a.m., 8/26 Breakfast at Stephanie's. Some people have Breakfast at Tiffany's. We do not have a Tiffany's Outlet in Oregon, which means we save a lot of money. Little hole-in-the-wall joint with six people waiting at the door after we finally got in. I never told you about it, capice?


10:30 a.m., 8/26 This ia a view south from Cape Perpetua, which is about 1500 feet above the ocean. Since the camera is cheap it does not show the sardines, which are at top, right.

6 p.m., 8/26 Here you go: That's Scamp on the left, Shari top right, and Kathy in front. Kathy and husband Jeff were hosting us at their beachfront cabin (which is about 2000 square feet with 3 bedrooms). Later we quaffed some wine that Kathy took to the eatery (perfectly legal) and ate at the Saffron Cafe. None of us could afford saffron. I thought I could afford lamb but, surprisingly, it was both dear and wearing. This is what scientists call "too bad."



9 a.m., 8/27 Wouldn't you know it? We are on our way home and we run across Lois Lane, a b**gger who lives in Illinois. Hi, Lois.

Also on the way home we stopped and visited the Evergreen Museum, which houses the Spruce Goose, Howard Hughes's monstrous airplane that was made mostly of birch. A picture of same would not do it justice, for I couldn't see much more than the nose in my viewfinder. This sucker is 218 feet long, has a wingspan of 319 feet, and it took an elevator to get into the cabin. We stole this from California.

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No word of the day today. Instead I give you my pal Jimmy's vision of Satan's lair:

"Hell has been described as a place where the police are German, the politicians are French, the chef was British, and the music was accordion."

I'm Off Yonder

Today the Scamp and I headed toward the Oregon Coast for a long weekend. I shall return to this place along about Tuesday. If I am not here then, I will have died. But with the Laws of Reincarnation in effect, I should make it by Wednesday.

Holding Pattern

If you got time, go take a look at this oldie, the Fantastic Music Machine. Tip: It is cute, but not real.

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My local weekly has manufactured a new noun. (I think it's a noun; maybe a verb.) When a young man was arrested, "He allegedly entered Lamb's Thriftway after being tresspassed from the premises...."

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I have recently read an Internet article in which a former Bush speechwriter, Matthew Scully, ripped the present chief speechwriter for taking all the credit. How great sad it is when the Bushies turn on each other.

Anyway, I have expertise in this area. See, I was the propagandist and speechwriter (chief, assistant, and only) for Oregon Gov. Tom McCall. I worked directly under the governor's administrative assistant, Ron Schmidt.

In the 1970s, a problem came up. The staff had taken Governor McCall, at 6-feet, 5-inches, out of his Lincoln, a supposed gas guzzler, and installed him in a smaller, gas-conserving Audi. This was symbolic of the government's interest in saving energy. However, symbolism gets you nowhere when you're 6-5 and can hardly fit inside an Audi. So, Tom wanted the Lincoln back, and he wanted us (me) to explain it.

Mumble, mumble, think think think... I have to make this funny, I decide. If I try to do it seriously, I will crack up at the news conference, for the situation is so offbeat. So I write, as a one-page press release, the following:

The Audi we got for McCall,
Was fine except he's so tall.
So we gave the car back,
Reaffirming our knack
To be humble, eat crow, and crawl.

Unexpectedly, it was dynamite. The press accepted the situation and we got no heat from putting McCall back in the Lincoln. The problem (mine) came much later.

After McCall left office, a book was written about him. In the course of said book, the author quoted my poem, and gave credit for it to Schmidt. Schmidt did not deny authorship. Later on, The Oregonian did a story about Schmidt's death, quoted the poem, and gave Schmidt credit, again. Unfortunately (fortunately?), Schmidt was not around to correct the record, for he had not paid his Reincarnation Dues.

Let the record now be corrected: I am the poetess of which we speak. Well, I would be, except I'm not a girl.

And,let's face it, the poem wasn't really that good. You're welcome, Schmidt.

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My favorite word today is Beelzebug. N., up yours, ol' devil-may-care. Def.: Satan, in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at 3 a.m. and cannot be cast out.

How to Make the Beer Better

Have you ever wondered what goes on outside your public restroom while you're in it? I think it goes something like this.

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And not only that, but how about some "Momsense" -- a woman giving amusing voice to the William Tell Overture. Click here. (I think this is from Judy's Brag. I think.)

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A long time ago (March??) my best buddy, Vicki, sent me a Beer Troubleshooting Guide. (Oh, wait, I get it: She sent it for St. Patrick's Day, and now here it is almost Christmas. I am so lame.)

Symptom, Cause and Corrective Action:
Feet cold and wet: Glass being held at an incorrect angle. Rotate glass so that open end points toward ceiling.

Feet warm and wet: Improper bladder control. Stand next to nearest dog; complain about lack of house training.

Beer unusually pale and tasteless: a. Glass empty. or, b. You're holding a Coors Lite. Get someone to buy you another beer.

Opposite wall covered with fluorescent lights: You have fallen over backward. Have yourself leashed to the bar.

Mouth contains cigarette butts, back of head covered with ashes: You have fallen forward. Have yourself leashed to the bar.

Floor moving: You are being carried out. Find out if you are being taken to another bar.

Beer is crystal clear: It's water! Somebody is trying to sober you up. Punch him.

Don't recognize anyone; don't recognize the room you are in: You've wandered into the wrong party. See if they have free beer.

Your bedroom is painted gray, has a concrete floor and an interesting steel door. Toilet may be conveniently located next to your bunk: a. You're in jail. or, b. You're in the navy. Sleep it off; you can always get out tomorrow. Don't talk to your new roommate, and under no circumstances sleep on your stomach.

You are dancing to a Village People song, and your partner is wearing leather chaps: You are in a gay bar. Keep your back to the wall, edge toward nearest exit. Do not accept offers for back rubs.

Your singing sounds distorted: The beer is too weak. Have more beer until your voice improves.

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My favorite word today is decafalon. N., a cure for St. Vitus dance. Def.: The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.

What If He Don't Like Tuna?

Okay, okay, don't get yer apron in a wringer. This is not a picture of Oscar Meyer output, despite the resemblance. No, this is housing in Cappadocia, Turkey. Or was. People used to drill holes in these dudes and use 'em for housing. That was way back when. Now they use 'em just to look at and marvel "What kind of brooms did they use?"

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An old nun (not as old as in Cappadocia), living in a convent next to a Brooklyn construction site, noticed the coarse language of the workers and decided to send some time with them to correct their ways. She decided she would take her lunch, sit with the workers, and talk with them.

She put her sandwich in a brown bag and walked over to the spot where the men were eating. She walked up to the group with a big smile and said, "Do you men know Jesus Christ?"

They shook their heads and looked at each other. One of the workers ooked up into the steelworks and yelled, "Anybody up there know Jesus Christ?"

One of the steelworkers called down, "No, why?"

The worker yelled back: "His wife's here with his lunch."

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Mildred, the church gossip and self-appointed monitor of the church's morals, kept sticking her nose into other people's business. Several members did not approve of her extracurricular activities, but feared her enough to maintain their silence.

She made a mistake, however, when she accused a new member, George, of being an alcoholic after she saw his pickup parked in front of the town's only bar. George, a man of few words, said nothing. He didn't explain, defend or deny. Later that evening, George quietly parked his pickup in front of Mildred's house and walked home....leaving the pickup there all night.

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My favorite word today is toothache. N., this will just be temporary. Def.: The pain that drives you to extraction.

Hoss Helps Out, Once Again

Hoo boy: The best refrigerator magnet ever.

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Every now and then, b**ggers pine away with nothing to report. Like this entry on Aug. 13 from a pal of mine:

"We are still here! Just nothing really exciting to say, and not really any new pictures to show off. Hopefully something of interest will happen soon."

You've been in that box, haven't you? Hardly a b**gger alive hasn't faced the screen and said, "Oh woe, I got my joe, but can I b**g anymo?"

Here comes Hoss with the remedy. I have several ideas that haven't been b**gged lately. Some of these you could turn into a meme. (Well, you could if you was clever like me.)

1. Write a piece about Why Dung Beetles Taste Like Chicken But Not Like Jelly Beans. Avoid further comparisons. This is too deep as it is.

2. Prepare a Powerpoint Presentation on What Is a Powerpoint Presentation? Bullets are permitted.

3. Write a treatise on Why Dick Cheney Is Lovable. I doubt you can get more than 20 words out of this one, so you might combine it with

4. Why George Bush Is Even Less Lovable. You can use up a good supply of adjectives (liar, spend-thrift, and the like) on this one.

5. Explain The Amazing Resemblance Between Ol' Hoss and Clark Gable. For the purposes of your paper, ears don't count.

6. List Your Bank Account Number, User Name and All Passwords. Explain why your passwords are so dumb a caveman could figure them out. Also, give me a one-day running head-start.

7. Decipher The Meaning of Crop Circles. Include pictures from various corn fields, wheat fields, popcorn fields and corn liquor fields. If you have no idea what crop circles are, pretend like you do. Nobody else does, either.

8. Flapjacks or Pancakes: the Bewildering Choices of Emeril. Explain the differences. Provide a recipe for Blackened Flapjacks. Take Emeril out for lunch at the Koney Kart.

9. What the hell difference does it make that Pluto Is a Plain Old Rock? Write from the standpoint of Big Ernie.

10. Give reasons why Roasting Chestnuts on an Open Fire Is Better Than Roasting Chestnuts Some Other Way. Post an afterthought on why macadamia nuts are so expensive. Have some more peanuts.

That should give you plenty of b**g material, and maybe just energize your brain case so you can come up with your own ideas. I do not have an endless supply of these, you know (although it would appear I do).

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My favorite phrase today is Arachnoleptic Fit. N., spider, spider on the wall... Def.: The frantic dance performed just after you have accidentally walked through a spider web.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

As I walked down the busy sidewalk, knowing I was late for an important meeting, my eye fell upon one of those unfortunate, homeless vagabonds that are found in every city these days.

Wearing what can only be described as rags, carrying every worldly possession in two plastic bags, this person's condition touched my heart.

Some people turned to stare. Others quickly looked away as if the sight would somehow contaminate them. Recalling some long-ago Parochial School admonition to "care for the sick, feed the hungry, and clothe the naked," I was moved by some powerful inner urge to reach out to this unfortunate person.

Yes, where some people saw only rags, I saw a hidden beauty. A small voice inside my head called out, "Reach out! Reach out!"












And so I did. I will not be in church this week.



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My favorite word today is dust. N., ashes to ashes, butt to butt? Def.: Mud with the juice squeezed out.

He Has It Backwards

The singer and professional bad boy Tupac Shakur has this to say:

"My only fear of death is reincarnation."

Well, if I were him, I'd be feared of it too. Nobody wants to see Tupac coming around again. But since I'm me, and not him, my only fear of death is that the local Reincarnation Man hasn't paid his dues and might not have the oomph to turn me into a dung beetle, or Clark Gable, whichever comes first.

Anyway, I know you will be glad to see me, again.

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If you have about 8 minutes to spare, take a gander at this Lion Hunt. In this clip, lions haul down a water buffalo, a crocodile gets into the act, then....Well, go look.

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Here’s a lift from Garrison Keillor, writing about Bush visiting the site of the downed Minneapolis bridge: “The Current Occupant came to view the wreckage and to express, in that intense and aimless way of his, his hopes for a better life for us. And then, having raised our hopes, he did not resign from office after all.”

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I have added to my B**groll lately some nature freaks lovers who are pretty masterful with the camera. A super-duper flickster is Paddle Tales. Here's a swell picture she recently posted after kayaking in Florida.

Two others: Piney Flatwoods Girl and The Birdman. Both also are nifty with the Sony.

Then there is a humorist, Badabing. He is weird funny, like me.

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My favorite word today is egotist. N., which came first, the chicken or the ego? Def.: Someone who is usually me-deep in conversation.

1, 2, 3, 4; What the Heck Am I B**gging For?

Two gems from my buddy, Paul Nichols:

Lawyer to witness: "All your responses have to be oral, okay? So, where did you go to school?"

Witness: "Oral."

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Harry praised Big Ernie for letting him die peacefully, not like those screaming passengers in the rear seat.

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Sam the Bellhop was a merry old soul. He has this tale of the cards that is hard to fathom. At least, he unfathomed me. Go take a peek.

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A prize-winner in the Bulwer-Lytton contest (an award for the worst start to a novel):

"A par on the first hole would clinch the U.S. Open for the in-form Tiger Woods but, in truth, this mattered little to Herbert Cruddle as a gigantic wave swept him over the side of the floundering shrimp trawler."

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I had the toughest time of my life when I was a senior in high school. First I got angina pectoris, and then arteriosclerosis. Just as I was recovering from these, I got tuberculosis, double pneumonia and appendicitis, followed by tonsillectomy. These gave way to aphasia and hypertrophic cirrhosis. Then, I don't know, there was diabetes, rheumatism and neuritis. I don't know how I pulled through it. Just let me tell you it was the hardest spelling test I've ever had.

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My favorite word today (via Miss Cellania) is skeptic tank. N., sort of like a swimming pool. Def.: A militarized army vehicle filled with disbelievers.

At Last! A Tomato By Any Other Name Would Soothe the Savage

Okay, Mizmell. You don't have Ol' Hoss to kick around any more.

Witness: CHERRY AND PEAR TOMATOES, grown by hand. I know, I know, you had tomatoes over a month ago, way ahead of Ol' Hoss, because you live in a greenhouse. But did you have Salmon in Sensei Sauce, accompanied by These Very Same Tomatoes, Kohlrabi, Lemon Cucumber and Corn on Le Cob? And the vino? Anyway, this was lunch. Which I munched.

Oh, anyone? I got zucchini, too, if you want some. Don't all speak up at once.

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You know you're watching a bad movie when it's showing on an airplane and you STILL think about walking out.

You know you're watching a bad movie when there's a crying baby in the audience who is more interesting than the film.

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A widowed lady was sunbathing on a Florida beach. She looked up and noticed that a man her age had walked up, placed his blanket on the sand next to hers and began reading a book. Smiling, she attempted to strike up a conversation with him.

"Hello, sir, how are you today?"

"Fine, thank you," he responded, and turned back to his book.

"I love the beach," she continued. "Do you come here often?"

"First time since my wife passed away two years ago," he replied, and returned to his book.

"I'm sorry to hear that. My husband passed away three years ago and it is very lonely. Do you live around here?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, "over in Boca Raton."

Still trying to find a topic of common interest, she persisted: "Sir, do you like pussy cats?"

With that, the man dropped his book, jumped on her, pulled off her swimsuit and gave her the most passionate time of her life. When the cloud of sand began to settle, she gasped and asked the man, "How did you know that was what I wanted?"

"And I'd like to know how you knew my name was Katz."

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My favorite word today is inflation. N., higher and higher, never lower and lower. Def.: Cutting money in half without damaging the paper.

I Swiped a Meme

My friend Jana did this meme and said anybody could do it. (Ho! I am waiting for the Cavemen!)

She didn't say I HAD to do it. As a matter of fact, she didn't say diddly squat, as I recall. But, you know Jana....

So here's this meme:

Two Names You Go By
1. Hoss
2. Gene. 3. Lowell. 4. Slats. 5. Clark Gable

Two Things You Are Wearing
1. Slippers
2. Bling

Two Things You Want Badly
1. Walnettos
2. Gimme a pack of Pepsin Chewing Gum please

Two Pets You Have
1. I don't have any pets
2. I don't have any pets

Two Things You Did Last Night
Hoo boy, now we're getting somewhere. Let's see.....
1. She had a headache
2. I slept on the couch

Two Things You Will Do Tonight
1. Be armed with headache medicine
2. Sleep on the couch

Two Favorite Holidays
1. Labor Day, when we give thanks for The Beer
2. Thanksgiving, when we drink The Beer
(I don't know; this could be vicee versa.)

Two Things You Can't Live Without
1. Air
2. Water
(3. I need food too. Eventually. How come I have to think of everything?)

Two Favorite Numbers
1. I'm not telling
2. If I told, you would know how to get into my bank account and I don't want you to know how tall short My Pile is.

Two Favorite Sports
1. I dressed in drag and was a hit at the Blogher Convention
2. No I didn't

Two Good Drinks
1. BourbonVodkaScotchRumBeerB&Band.....
2. See above

Two TV Shows You Like
1. None
2. Less than that

Two Favorite Foods
1. Marijuana milkshake
2. Milkshake marijuana

Two Favorite Passions in Your Life
1. Dung beetles
2. Making My Pile

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My favorite word today is tomorrow. N., manana and so forth. Def.: The greatest labor saving device of today.

Farmers and Professors Know Best

These tape worms you wanna buy? Please specify whether you want them packed in oil, or water.

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I don't think I have told you about this book I have been reading, called "Oregon Desert." It's written by a desert rat, Reub Long, and an Oregon State University professor, E.R. Jackman. Jackman is not funny, but Long is.

He writes: "Juniper posts have been known to wear out three sets of postholes."

"They say it's too frosty here for watermelons, but I got some that grow so fast the frost can't catch 'em. They ain't practical, though -- them vines just spread so fast that the friction from the sand grains wears the melons out. They get drug to death."

"He hates water as much as the grimiest small boy, who has been defined as a loud noise entirely surrounded by dirt."

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There was this little guy sitting inside a bar, just looking at his drink. He didn't move for half an hour.

Then this big, trouble-making truck driver stepped up right next to him, took the drink from the guy, and just drank it down. The poor man started crying. The truck driver turned and said, "Come on, man, I was just joking. Here, I'll buy you another drink. I just can't stand to see a man crying."

"No, it's not that. Today is the worst day of my life. First I overslept and was late for an important meeting. My boss became outraged and then fired me. When I left the building to go to my car, I found out it was stolen. The police said they could do nothing.

"I got a cab to return home, and after I paid the cab driver and the cab had gone, I discovered that I had left my whole wallet in the cab. I got home only to find my wife was in bed with the gardener. I left home depressed and came to this bar. And now, when I was thinking about putting an end to my life, you show up and drink my poison...."

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My favorite word today is skeleton. N., ankle bone connected to the knee bone... Def.: A bunch of bones with the person scraped off.

Rabbits and Poifect Poisters

Rabbit! Rabbit!

This is what you say at the first of each month if you want to have good luck. And am I ever having good luck. Nobody has stolen my identity this year, and all of Nigeria seems to have lost my email address.

The rabbit is mine. Or, rather, Scamp's. I hung him on a shelf and made this fine picture, just for you. I am good that way.

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And the first of the month is also when we name people who done good in B**gland. My Perfect Post award goes to Pointmeister Dave for his "new" rendition of various books and movies. It's a reprise to which he has added new stuff. You rock, Dave.

Poifect Posting is the dreamchild of Momma K and Lucinda, who are pretty perfect themselves.

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Once upon a time a young lad was born without a belly button. In its place was a golden screw. All the doctors told his mother there was nothing they could do. He would just have to live with it.

The years passed, and they were hard for the boy, as everyone who saw the screw made fun of him. Then one day when he was fully grown, a mysterious stranger told him that a swami in Tibet could get rid of the screw for him. The next day the man took his life's savings and bought a ticket for Tibet.

When he arrived, he was told to sleep in a room at the top of the mountain. While he slept, a purple fog floated in through an open window bearing in its mist a golden screwdriver. In just moments, the screwdriver had been used to remove the golden screw, and then it had floated out the window.

The next morning, the man noticed the screw lying beside his bed. Gently, he reached to his navel and discovered that, indeed, the screw was gone.

Jubilant, he leaped out of bed and his butt fell off.

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My favorite word today is mosquito. N., cursed, wretched bug. Def.: An insect that makes you like flies better.

Music Hath Charms and Walnettos

It turns out that I have quite a musical bent. My mother never mentioned it, but it is just a terrific gift. I can play any song ever written after hearing it just once or twice. Probably I will be on You Tube soon.

The thing is, this got me to thinking about a way to Make My Pile. Which I haven't done much of lately. But this seems like a real prize-winner. See, what I can do is advertise to sell lessons for, maybe, $50 or $250 a pop, and in no time at all I will have my reincarnation fees covered. (They say Big Ernie don't take checks.)

So, if you are interested in learning how to play a musical instrument, let me know and I will let you in on the ground floor for $49, or $249, a pop, whichever seems right to you. So let me know when you get your kazoo, and we will get right into training you.

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Probably you didn't also know that I am quite the gardener. A regular Jolly Green Thumb am I. But, foolishly, I made a bet with Miz Mell about who would have the first tomato. This was foolish because, as I later discovered, I live in growing season #7, and she lives in a hot house. So she has had lots of tomatoes while I am still waiting for just one of my babies to turn red.

I also planted some Giant Pumpkins, which will grow like Jack's Beanstalk. Funny thing, that. I hate pumpkin pie.

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My favorite word today is reintarnation. N., y'all come back, ya hear? Def.: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.

A Traveling We Will Go....

A couple days ago, Scamp and I went motoring (heh. how the British speak) westward to a place called Butteville, which is pretty close to Champoeg, which is where Oregon was born. (Are you keeping up?) I didn't get any pictures of Buttville (cq) for I had no camera. But I did get an ice cream cone. And on returning home, I got THIS picture, from our very own garden.

Stargazer, who b**gs under that name and also as my buddy Teacher Woman, will love this. For her stargazers were a bust this year. Not ours. Our stargazer plant is healthy, and it is pretty because I said so.

So, about Champoeg. Many years ago (around 158 years, or so), a bunch of free white men (that's a slur) got together in a field at Champoeg, and one of them says, "Who's for a divide?" So they did -- one side for joining the United States, and one side for joining....wait for it....FRANCE!! As you might expect, France did not win.

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Some preacher is appearing in Portland who claims you don't need to be worried about going to Heaven, because everybody is. He has this weird claim that it doesn't matter if you're saved, just as long as you believe IN HIM!! I love this, for it means we atheists skate. Muslims, too, for all that means.....

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If God has no home address, is he homeless?

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Strange facts: In Romania, a convicted murderer sued God. Pavel Mircea, who is serving 20 years, filed suit against God two years ago for not protecting him from "evils." Mircea also wanted financial compensation for all the money he spent on candles and church services that he claims did not help him, either.

Unfortunately, it looks bad for God, for no lawyers have ever made it to Heaven.

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My favorite word today is Frisbeetarianism. N., sail me on a slow boat to China. Def.: The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

Words From My New Buddy

One of my new buddies is a guy named Paul Nichols, who is funny and also hip. The other day he said I complimented him -- and I think what that means is that I stole from him. But I sometimes don't give credit cause I forget where I get these things. However, THIS one I didn't forget, for it comes straight from Paul:

"I just learned that when Adam woke up from a deep, deep sleep he discovered a new, beautiful, two-legged creature over in the meadow. 'What the...?' he wondered. The Lord suggested that Adam go check it out. So Adam went over to see the beautiful new creature. A few minutes later he hurried back and breathlessly asked the Lord, 'What's a headache?'"

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Sleeping Beauty, Tom Thumb, and the Hunchback of Notre Dame were all conversing one day.

Sleeping Beauty said, "I believe myself to be the most beautiful girl in the world."

Tom Thumb said, "I must be the smallest person in the world."

And the Hunchback said, "I absolutely have to be the ugliest person in the world."

They all then decided to go to the library and look into the Guinness Book of World Records to have their claims verified.

Sleeping Beauty read the book first, and said, "It's official; I AM the most beautiful girl in the world."

Tom Thumb went next and was triumphant. "I am now officially the smallest person in the world."

Then the Hunchback checks out his credentials in the book. He emerges looking utterly confused. He asks, "Who the hell is Rosie O'Donnell?"

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My favorite word today is personality. N., don't mess with Mr. In-Between. Def.: What lawyers use for birth control.

Lady Uterus Have Two Part

Before we get into the bit that matches the title, we have to go visit Monty, who is a b**gging fiend. Pretty soon she is going to put up a post on her site
every 30 minutes, for 24 hours. It's in the way of a fund-raiser for Cerebral Palsy research.

You go over there (PLEASE) and pledge anything from $1 (if you're really that skimpy) on up to several quintillion dollars; whatever you got on you and that you won't miss. We (her b**gger friends) have so far pledged over $500, which entitles us to an online song from Monty. And a second song will forthcome when she gets to $700.

This is a good cause, folks, so please dive in.

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Here's from the marquee on the church down the road:

"Exposure to the Son may prevent burning."

Twisted, huh?

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Okay, about the title: Kristi, a b**gger ("Here in Idaho") acquaintance of mine, listed some searches that had gotten to her b**g. Here's what the search question inquired:

"how many of part of lady uterus"

Idaho's answer: "Lady Uterus have two part: the woo-woo and hoo-hah."

Ho ho har de har har, Hoss chortled.

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You ain't seen nothing till you seen this Bush boy.

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My favorite word today is lymph. N., I'm so gland to see you. Def.: To walk with a lisp.

A Tisket, Etc.

This here is my non-Indian basket, made by my new friend, Leslie.

You think this is easy? Ho. She has to go out in the spring, in Alaska, to find just the right tree that got its sap goin' mile a minute. Then she gotta trim and slice and organize big pieces into little pieces.

Then she has to decide whether she wants to spend the next several days (weeks?) making a basket for Ol' Hoss. Which she did. And I treasure this mightily, so I had to show it off.

Hoss is blessed.

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Today's Ebonic word from the Louisiana Public School System:

OMELETTE

Let's use it in a sentence:

"I should pop yo ass fo what you jus did, but omelette dis one slide."

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George moves into a nudist colony. He receives a letter from his grandmother asking him to send her a current photo of himself in his new location. Too embarrassed to let her know he lives in a nudist colony, he cuts a photo in half and mails it to her.

The next day he discovers that he had accidentally sent the bottom half of the photo. He's really worried, but then remembers how bad his grandmother's eyesight is and hopes she won't notice.

A week later he receives a letter from his grandmother, which says: "Thank you for the picture. Change your hairstyle.....it makes your nose look too short."

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(The last 2/3rds of this is from my sis, Tan Lucy Pez. I told her I wouldn't tell, though, so please button up.)

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My favorite word today is glibido. N., exercises for the tongue. Def.: All talk and no action.

I Told You This Would Be Easy

One thing I forgot to mention when I said b**gging is easy: You will need a big dictionary. Unabridged size. Whopper. This is one you do not stand on to look in the neighbor lady's bedroom. This one is for real and cool and all like that.

Now then, once you got your dictionary, you set it beside your computer, because that's where the words come from that you will need to make a b**g post. So, what you do then, is you select from your dictionary, say, 800 words of various leanings and put 'em in your b**g. (If you're stuck for a headline, gimme a heads up. I can handle that. For instance, here's an all-purpose headline: Eeny Meeny Meiny Schmo. No charge.)

The tricky part is knowing just which words to select from your dictionary. For instance, if you select "dung beetles," but your b**g is about your child's birthday party, you probably can't work that in. Unless, of course, you are having a picnic in Africa, somewhere around where the elephants go long. Also, you do not want to select the word "reproduction" unless you are writing a "birds and bees" post.

But there are plenty of other words you CAN select. For instance, this post is full of them.

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This is not funny. It is simply one of my favorite songs, from Speedy.

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I've been meaning to tell you. I know a whole lot of uses for lemon and vinegar. Unfortunately, I've never been confronted with a situation where this known-it-all would be useful. So I think I will work on remembering some off-beat uses for duct tape, WD40, and Phillips Milk of Magnesia.

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My favorite word today is caterpallor. N., Crayola's finest. Def.: The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.