Tag Archives: Writing

George Clooney is One Lucky Dude.

Someday it will all be mine....

There was a show on the news recently that talked about Prince Harry, and how is he is third in line for the throne.  That sounds like me the last time I was at a keg party, waiting to use the bathroom.

Did you know that the Chicago Blackhawks are the only team to be named after an attack helicopter?  Now you do.

I was reading about a tribal elder in Pakistan who is so tough that his nickname is Islamabad-Ass.  He used to be called Ramadan Corleone.  But then he changed it, for obvious reasons.

Sure, I'm rich. But am I happy? Yes, I am.

I just finished watching a movie called “Syriana.”  Have you seen it?  You haven’t?  Why not?  Are you too good for George Clooney?  He is kidnapped in one scene, and the first thing the bad guys do is put a black hood over his head, so he can’t see where they are taking him.  I think if I were ever to travel in that part of the world I would bring my own hood, just in case.  You know, because of germs.

Dirty Harry’s Corner

A married couple just moved into the neighborhood.  They invited me to participate in a threesome.  I declined because I don’t like to golf with people I don’t know.

I’ve been watching online movies at Netflix.  Sometimes the movie stops and a message is displayed which says “There is a problem with the playback.  Please wait while we make adjustments to avoid further interruptions.”  What they really mean is, “Your movie has stopped.  You need to reboot or you are going to sit here for the next half hour looking like an idiot.”

I have a friend from Iran who cannot speak Farsi.  What a farce.

Did you know that in parts of  the Deep South, the customer is always white?

I have been reading about all sorts of problems over in Central Asia.  There is trouble in Turkmenistan,Uzbekistan, Musialstan and Laurelstan.

Many nuggets of wisdom are being re-written in order to comply with the metric system.  Now it is proper to say “28 grams of prevention is worth .45 kilos of cure.”  Also, a pound of flesh is now .45 kilos of flesh. 

That’s all I’ve got for now.  I have to get back to my movie.  I think the adjustments might be done by now.  If not, I will really be upset.

Thoughts on Biodiesel

Hello one and all.  I know you have all been waiting to hear from me.  Thanks for all the cards and letters.  The scar is almost healed and I should be getting out of the hospital soon.

Lately I have been doing some soul searching.  I haven’t found my soul yet, but I did come across my car keys and some missing twine.  Craving spiritual guidance, I thought about converting to Judaism, but the rabbi said I was too athletic.  Not one to give up, at least not without good reason, I tried to become a Muslim but could not meet the beard requirement.  So I decided on becoming a Catholic, which means I am going straight to hell.  Did I already tell you this?  I forget.
 
I recently read in the paper that Eddie Rabbit’s manager embezzled his entire fortune, and Eddie is hopping mad. 

The wife and I usually buy Ak-Mak (pronounced OK-MOK) crackers when we shop, but this week they didn’t have any.  They had some substitute crackers in its place, but we didn’t get them.  We refuse to buy mock Ak-Maks.

And have you read about all of the McDonald’s restaurants opening in China lately?  There have been so many that it has become the “Double Chin” dynasty over there. 

I saw on CNN the other day that the latest craze is Biodiesel.  That is where people run their cars on oil that is used in restaurant fryers.  The restaurants are usually ethnic, so we are still dependent on foreign oil for fuel.

I just came from a family reunion at my friend’s house.  His name is Jimmy Papanickalous.  His cousin’s last name is Mamanapolous.  He was telling me about all the people at the reunion.  Mama Papanickalous was there, along with Papa Mamanapolous.  When it was done, they all filled their engines with Gyro oil and drove home.And speaking of female jockeys, my neighbor told me he is dating one.  He met her at the race track during a recent bender, and says she is usually hot to trot.   

 

Find the Celebrities Part Deux

Will Tom Cruise?  Is Marcia Cross?  Who will cook?  Will Peter Cook?   I am not sure.  If he does, will he burn it?  And if so, why?   Who will bake?  Simon?  Simon Baker?  If George Burns the dinner, will Johnny Cash his check?  And what about the utensils?  Whose knives are these?  Are these Ruben’s Blades?  Is Barry White?  Is Jack Black?  Is Lorne Green?  And why for Pete’s sake is Aaron Brown?  Did he stay out in the sun too long?  Are you’re buttons red?  What, you have Red Buttons?  Am I blue?  I would have to be to write this stuff!

Help, we are drowning!  Christian, Bale!  I need a haircut.  I will go see Tiki Barber.  If I had to pick my favorite actor, I would pick Joseph Cotton.  That’s right, I pick cotton!  Is Glenn Close?  Will Sheryl Crow?  And if so, why?  Will Tom Cruise through the rest of his life, the little stinker?  Do you dislike him as much as I do?  I thought so.  We can watch him and Penelope cruise through life together. (I know they aren’t married, but their names work for that part).  Will Jim carry Humphrey?  Will Humphrey bogart Drew?  Will Drew carry Michael?  Why is Michael Bolton?  Perhaps he doesn’t like to be carried.  I don’t blame him.  I would bolt too.  And why the heck is Marcia Cross?    
We could do this all day, but I think you get the idea.

The Job Interview

Last week I had a job interview.  I have had a few of them over the past few months, and they all have one thing in common – they are really annoying.   I am usually a little nervous beforehand, and afterwards I feel like I have just been released from prison after 20 years.  For a crime I didn’t commit.  This latest interview went something like this:

I arrived at the main reception desk five minutes early and told them my name.  The receptionist said that the person conducting the interview has a new office.  On a different floor.  In a different building.  It’s a good thing I came five minutes early, because now I will only be five minutes late, instead of ten.

After aimlessly wandering the halls, I arrived at my destination.  A balding man peaked out of the door at me and asked, “Are you John?”  My only thoughts were that my half-open fly and extra perspiration gave me away.  “Yes, I am” I replied, projecting an air of confidence seldom seen among the unemployed.

“I am Chuck.  This lovely lady over here is Phyllis.  And that is Julie, and over here is Bob.”

“Hello, nice to meet you Chuck, Alice, Judy, Bill.”

Why are they looking at me like that?  Did I make a faux pau?  Did I already screw up?  What the heck was that lady’s name?  Allison?  Ashley?  Why am I sweating?  My God it’s hot in here!  Why does this chair go back so far?  I’m going to fall over, for God’s sake.  I hope they notice my shoes.

“We just have a few questions for you.”

A few questions?  What’s with all of that paperwork in front of you?  Is this an interview or a parole hearing? 

“Our first question is this.  If you were all alone at the front desk, and the phone was ringing, there was someone at the front desk, and your supervisor had a high priority project, what would you do?”

“I would unplug the phone, put up a “Back in 15 minutes” sign, and tend to my boss’s problem, like they do in the DMZ.  I mean the DMV.” 

“Tell us when you came up with a solution to a problem in the workplace.”

“Well, there was this “person” who kept getting on my case for no reason, and causing me all kinds of grief.  Let’s just say this “person” hasn’t been heard from for a long long time.  Problem solved.”

“If you were having problems with a co-worker, how would you handle it?”

“Didn’t you hear my answer to the last question?”

“What would you do if you caught someone stealing company property?”

“I would tattle on him, like a little rat.  A little weasel of a rat.”

“Well, I guess that’s about it for us.  Do you have any questions for us?”

“Just one.  Exactly what job am I interviewing for?”

“Temporary On-Call Cat-Box Cleaner at Animal Services.”

“That’s what I thought.  I have always wanted to work with cat poop.  Well, thanks so much for speaking with me.  It got me out of the house.  I haven’t left for 38 days.  It’s been nice meeting you, Fred, Michael, Phoebe, Doris…”

I left the room, got in my car, and headed downtown.  After parking in the free 20-minute Post Office parking lot, I made the gauntlet to the local Gap Clothing Store to look at 50-Something-Wear.  It’s kind of tricky getting to the Gap from the Post Office parking lot.  You see, there are always panhandlers there.  And they probably have more money than I do, yet I am the one avoiding eye contact.  Go figure.

I entered the Gap and was greeted by a woman who said, with much enthusiasm, “Can I help you find anything?” 

“I’m just looking for some shorts.”

“This is all we have left this season, I’m not sure if we have anything in your size.” 

I could she was staring right at my stomach.  Or I guess it was my waist.  I’m not really sure anymore.  It’s kind of a gray area down there. 

There were sizes 28 and smaller, and sizes 40 and larger.  So I either need to lose 30 pounds or put on, well, some weight.

I left the store and went home to begin putting on some weight so I could buy the size 40 shorts before the sale ended.  As far as the job goes, I haven’t gotten a call yet.  But I’m sure Brad is going to call me any day now.

Today’s News

I’m not usually one to complain, but I have to tell you that I have been at my wits end lately.  It’s getting so bad that I am contemplating entering witless protection.  Every time I pick up the paper it’s the same thing – I have to take it out of that plastic wrapper.  And I am always trying to open the wrong end. 

I was reading just yesterday about a guy in Missouri who was arrested 14 times for indecent exposure. Missouri is the “Show Me” State, but I think he is taking things a bit far, don’t you?  I thought so.

I also read about a party attended by rock stars that got out of hand.  It seems that Keith Richards got into an argument with Roger McGuinn  and David Crosby.  Luckily the fight was broken up.  Otherwise we might have had two Byrds killed by one Stone.

Here’s something you don’t read every day.  Seven Middle-Eastern janitors were apprehended yesterday in the largest operation of its kind.  The authorities had named it ”Operation Sweeper Cell.”

My Doctor told me last year that he wanted me to be, in his words, “ship shape” by the end of the year.  I am right on track because right now I am as big as an aircraft carrier.

Have you ever longed to be plucked from obscurity?  I do.  I sometimes sit and think to myself, “how nice it would be to be plucked from obscurity.”  (Or simply plucked for that matter.)  I wonder what chickens think about that?

I read online about a soldier who has two purple hearts.  I hope the doctors can do something for him.  When I was in the military all I got was two bruised kidneys.

When I was in basic training, my drill sergeant had nerves of steel.  By the time they were through with me I had nerves of rubber.  Which isn’t so bad when you are trying to fit through tight spaces.

Origins of Slang

The following describes how slang phrases such as “Paid Under the Table” and “Gonna Tap Dance on Your Head” came about:

Paid Under the Table

 In medieval times, before there were computers and celebrities and politics, things were done differently.  You might say to yourself, “What does the writer mean when he says that things were done differently?”  I do not have time right now to go through every example of how things have changed, being as it is getting dark and I still have two cats to get back in the house, but I will cover one thing that has changed. 

 Before there were banks, or taxes, or TMZ, people were literally paid under tables.  One would work all day in the fields, or in the orchards, or as a hovel-maid.  When Friday rolled around, everyone from the village would show up in the town square, in height order.  People under five foot tall would go to the six-foot high table, and people from 6 feet to 7 feet would go to the 8-foot high table.  Everyone over 7 feet would be banished from the tribe, because they were usually bad luck, and basketball was not yet a sport.  The payments would then be made, literally, under the table.  No taxes were taken out.  The practice of paying under the table gradually changed to having people pay through the nose.  But when payment is made nowadays without collecting taxes it is usually referred to as being “Under the Table.”


Fit as a Fiddle

 Have you ever noticed how sleek a fiddle is?  It is shaped rather erotically, don’t you think?  You don’t?  Well, me neither.  But it is very fit.  There is no fat on a fiddle.  You will not see a fiddle struggle to get up from the couch.  A fiddle would never watch football all day eating junk food.  And that might be why it is so fit.  A fiddle watches what it eats, and it gets plenty of exercise too.  How many of us haven’t seen a fiddle running by the side of a road, or around the track?  Some fiddles have even been spotted poolside in Vegas, sipping protein shakes. 

There have been reports of other instruments drinking alcohol, such as tubas, bassoons, and tympanis.  That could be why they are so unfit.  But a fiddle always watches what it eats and what it drinks.  A fiddle exercises, meditates regularly, calls its mother on holidays, is not in debt, and has never lost a job. A fiddle feels good about what it has accomplished in life, and it does not fear death.  If only everyone could be like the fiddle, fit and happy.  It is ironic that the one thing a fiddle does not do is fiddle around.  It is far too motivated for that.

Need I explain how the phrase “Fit as a Fiddle” came from?  I think not.

 Gonna Tap Dance on Your Head

 In order to fully understand the phrase “Gonna tap dance on your head” one must first know the circumstances surrounding the first tap dance.   The art of tap dancing was done for the first time at a New Year’s Eve Party hosted by the Governor of Philadelphia on December 31, 1853.   James Edward Tap, an unemployed millworker who lived in nearby Nashville, became very inebriated at the party and passed out before the ball dropped in Times Square, just as he did every year. 

When he awoke at 3 a.m., several of the guests were still drinking and dancing a waltz.  In the corner of the room there were several rugs, blankets, and hides for people to use if they wanted to nap or just get cozy.  At 3:35 a.m. on January 1, 1854, James began dancing alone on the rugs, then gradually the blankets, and eventually on the hides.  Someone in the corner of the dance hall yelled out to the host, “Hey everyone, check out Tap, dancing on your hide!”  Gradually the phrase became what we now know as “Tap Dancing on your head.”  Why is it is used as a reference to causing harm to someone remains a mystery.


Can Stop on a Dime

 In the early 1880’s people traveled through the countryside by one of three ways:  Horseback, Train, or Stage.  People with Stage Fright usually opted for Horseback.  But that’s neither here nor there.  Sometimes, when it was very hot, they would drink to excess in the bars.  This was usually followed by evenings filled with debauchery and going to sleep without brushing one’s teeth.  In the morning, most people would usually find themselves in bed with someone they would never think of sleeping with.  When they would run out of their motel rooms, they would usually leave a trail of money showing where they had been.  If they were seen by their spouse, they would usually stop right where they were, in their tracks so to speak.  More often than not they would be standing right on a dime.  Need I say more?

 
Sunday Driver

 Unlike its cousin the Backseat Driver, the phrase Sunday Driver was coined, interestingly enough, on a Monday.  Back in the days of the Pharoah, before there were drive thru restaurants, celebrity game shows, or ethnic politicians, many people would take Sunday off from working on the pyramids to go for a drive.  They would cruise around the River Nile, check out what was happening in the desert springs, and have an all-around great time.  Sometimes whole armies of people would be out, and wars would often break out over parking.  Do you remember Genghis Khan?  He was the most famous of all Sunday Drivers.  He was just trying to parallel park when he happened upon 200,000 Persians, who were also out for a Sunday drive.  On Monday morning, it was all over.  Since that fateful day, the phrase has been used to describe someone who drives slowly, a fact which remains a mystery to this day.

 

The Bee’s Knees

 
Many people think that the phrase The Bee’s Knees refers to an insect.  It does not.  Nor does it have anything to do with knees.  It is actually referring to the emotional needs of the second letter of our alphabet, that’s right, the letter B.  When A was chosen to be at the front of the alphabet, letter B was very upset.  The letters L, H, and R once saw it perched on the side of a cliff, threatening to jump.  Only when they got the letters N, O, T, and D to stand in correct order spelling the word DON’T did the letter B realize it had a purpose.  After all, there were 24 letters less important than her.  That’s right, the letter B is a girl.  So is M, H, and F.  Not many people know that.
 
After word got around to the other letters in the alphabet about how blue B had been feeling, they started paying more attention to its needs.  For some reason the phrase “It’s the Bee’s Knees” now means something good.  But it actually started thousands of years ago, when one depressed letter decided to end it all.  And we should all thank the letters D, O, N, and T, for saving her.  Otherwise we wouldn’t have words like Beer, Babes, and Boobies.
 

Quiet as a Mouse 

 
For some reason, a mouse was chosen for this phrase.  After several years of research at learning institutions the world over, the author does not know why another creature was chosen.  After all, spiders are quiet, aren’t they?  Ants are also quiet.  Most insects are quiet, fish are quiet, some cats are quiet, but not mine.  There are quiet hamsters, ferrets, rats, and rabbits.  And even some rabbis.  But only when they are alone.
 
 Most dogs are not very quiet, hence their use in the phrase “Barking up the Wrong Tree.”  However, in the phrase “Let sleeping dogs Lie” the dog is assumed to be quiet.  Unless he sleeps like my wife, in which case he would be sleeping in the next room.  But only because I need my sleep. 

The only thing quieter than a mouse seems to be a church mouse.  So if you wanted to really get your point across, you would say something like, “My alcoholic uncle is as quiet as a church mouse when he is passed out.”  If you compared him to a hamster it wouldn’t have the same meaning. 

 It is believed that this phrase was first used in 175 A.D., in the city of Crete.  One of the locals had one two many goblets of wine and woke up in a pile of naked people.  A mouse was walking next to the group of heathens, and a child looked at them in disgust and said to his mother, that group of perverts are as quiet as that mouse.  

Things I Learned by Watching Matlock (instead of working)

matlock(Note:  Andy Griffith is no longer with us.  When I wrote this he was still here.  Rest in Peace Andy.  You were a force for good.)

I have been semi-retired for the past couple of years.  Being semi-retired has different meanings to different people.  You could ask my wife what she thinks of the term, and it might be different from the answer you might get from, say, your mailman.  I feel that being semi-retired means that a person doesn’t go to work, but he also doesn’t have any money.

Being semi-retired has afforded me the time to do all of the things I have always wanted to do, like watch “Matlock.”  Here are a few of things I have learned along the way: 

Never take evidence after committing a crime.  If you find yourself in a situation where you have just done something that might get you locked up for the rest of your life, leave immediately and Do Not Take Anything With You!  Especially if it is a 1984 Rodeo Champion Belt Buckle worn by a corpse.  You can bet that Matlock will find it in your sock drawer and link it to you

If you are a crime boss, avoid having forklifts in any of your storage facilities.  I have seen on more than one occasion a hoodlum being picked up by a forklift and held in a compromising position after being cornered by Matlock and/or his Investigative Team.  If you must store contraband, try to do it at least 3 miles off-shore, or in a HUD-approved facility.

Never poison someone with a band-aid.  It might seem like a good idea at the time, but I can assure you that it isn’t.   During the autopsy they will put that band-aid in a baggie.  Then you can count on Matlock being in the hospital during the investigation, and he will most likely have a crotchety nurse who insists on giving him a band-aid that has medication on it.  Matlock will no doubt put two and two together and you will be calling for Poison Control from a downtown cell. 

If you are the only son of a crime boss, do not visit the house where you grew up!  There are forces awaiting you that you want to avoid, like your Dad’s number two hoodlum.  He will most likely try to kill you one of three ways:  Shooting, stabbing, or being thrown out of a window (above the fifth floor).
 
 Do not go into ethnic restaurants of any type.  Nothing good ever comes from them.  You will most likely be killed, or at least get indigestion.   Also avoid racetracks and bowling alleys.  
 
Never, ever, look into a dumpster.  Do I really need to explain why?
 

Find the Celebrities

Do you remember high school football games?  Me too. One of the players named Bob was always stealing things from the other players.  Who can forget seeing Bob crane his neck forward as he was getting ready to steal John’s candy?  Bob was a star running back, along with his friend Dan Blocker, who was ironically a passer.  Our school colors were red and black, but for some reason the uniforms were green.  Al’s parents didn’t like him being on the team.  They really disliked seeing Al Green.  But Tom’s parents were worse.  They were adamant in their disgust of seeing Tom Green.  But then again they didn’t like him no matter what color he was wearing, after that Freddie movie and all.  

The coach, who was quite emotional, was named Jon.  After every loss we would watch Jon the Cryer, as he was known throughout the county, but ironically not in the city.  The waterboy was great, but he was always listening to rap music when he brought the liquid refreshment, which was usually Ice T with Ice Cubes (which was very strange, being as rap music did not exist at that time).  I remember being happy sitting next to my friend Glenn, but not Jamie.  In other words, I liked Glenn close and Jamie far.  Three of the backup running backs were named Dan, Grant, and Carry.  They would all teach other tricks during practice, where I watched Grant carry the ball.  I also watched Grant show Carry how it was done.  Would Carry grant Dan the privelege of showing him how it was done?  Would Dan rather that Grant Show him how it is done?   These are just some of the questions I asked myself as I pondered my existence and searched for a clean restroom, which I never found, in case you were wondering.  And I still rarely do, that is if I actually leave the house. 

The cheerleaders were always placed in alphabetical order on the field for every cheer.  There was Beebee and Ceecee, Deedee and Gigi, and lastly Kay, Em and Ella (who had an Aunt Bee).  After a freak pyramid accident, Cici landed on her head and we called the doctor.  We watched as the doctor drew blood from her.  Her boyfriend Colin rode in the ambulance with her.  She was loaded in last, and Colin firth.  I tried to go along, but they wouldn’t let me because I wasn’t part of the cool crowd (those meanies!  It’s a good thing I forget about stuff like that), so I let my friend Alan hale a cab. Our mutual friend Nancy wanted to go too, so we let Nancy grace us with her presence. Nancy had a boyfriend named Al who was a matador.  I never watched Al gore anything, but I wish he would just stop that.  He is married to his work, which is strange because he is a divorce attorney.

I had two girlfriends at the time, one was named Susan and the other was named Gladys.  I would usually see Gladys during the afternoons, and Susan in the evenings.  But occasionally I would switch things up and it would be a Gladys night and a Susan day.  But that is another story entirely.