October 16, 2018

A most disappointing turn of events

The day started off with promise. Since then it has slowly turned to shit.

Consider your attention grabbed

I'm a mouth breather from way back. I was the very definition of "snot nosed kid". Allergies left me perpetually with stuffed sinus cavities. The only way to breath as a kid was through my mouth. Fortunately, the allergies have abated over the years. I learned to breath through my nose. Except at night. Then I must fall into old habits. Pokes in the ribs occasionally inform me I am  snoring.  In recent days I have woken to a sore throat. The big question is it an on-coming cold or just a result of very dry air and open-mouth breathing? Hypochondriac me says I am on the brink of.a cold so bad normal humans would beg for a hospital admission. After all, the wife spent the end of last week with a cold. My head says I'm fine, it is just the lack of humidity. Time will tell.

It is a chilly 33 outside this morning. Brr. OK,  I wouldn't know. I'm inside where it is a semi-comfortable 68. But I bet if was outside sans shoes and coat I would be cold.

Look, do you want a blog post or not?

I could bore you with the minutiae that is my life. Aside, yes there are things even more boring than the opening paragraphs. I don't think I will do that to you. Instead I hope you have a great day. Rest assured I will be back if real inspiration strikes. It would be best if you check back often. 


October 15, 2018

Ironing out the irony

After reading the comments from Hillary, Holder, and leading Democrats, it appears the new Democrat Party strategy is that unless we stop calling them a mob they are going to riot in the streets and attack those with whom they disagree whenever and wherever they find us.

October 14, 2018

Weekend Not So Funny

Yesterday's post reminds me of a true story. Back in the Jurassic Era I worked in a plastics factory. We molded stuff (duh). One of the workers was a hard working mold tech. He was tapped for promotion to a line leader position. This necessitated a move to an off shift. His wife worked at the plant too, so they didn't get to see each other much.

One night Ken was not feeling well so he went home early.

You know where this headed, right?

Sure enough, he caught his wife in bed with his old boss; the one who promoted him to second shift.

Funny enough, Ken was blonde. Not so funny was he punched his old boss in the nose and ended up divorced. Ken found a new job at the factory across the highway.

Sometimes I miss the soap opera that is the factory floor.

Not really.

October 13, 2018

In the shuffling madness

That post just below? It is canned: steam-packed to appear fresh for weeks, months, and even years. On the other hand, in a few days when blonde jokes become the next hashtag evidence of patriarchy, hate, cruelty and oppression, it will be further evidence of my unfitness to exist since I am an old white guy. No doubt legions of SJWs will be hounding me while wearing blond wigs and shouting "me too also".

This post? Fresh as that steaming pile of dog poop the neighbor's mutt left in your front yard.

Fall arrived with a vengeance in these parts yesterday. Wednesday it was a balmy eighty-something. We had sleet yesterday. The temperature in the house had dropped to 63 by bedtime last night. Since the weather lady told us it will not break 60 for a week or more the wife insisted I turn on the heat. Sigh. No break on utility bills this fall. It is straight from A/C to heat. A week ago it was 90!

I decided to take a break from POBs Master and Commander series. Volume 17 is on the coffee table ready to be re-read. Instead I picked up my Kindle for the first time in months and started a Bernard Cornwell novel about Shakespeare. It started a bit slow but is getting better. Like most of his books, it is eminently readable and will be a quick read. I will then head back to The Commodore, or I may crack Jeff Shaara's tome on the Korean War -- The Frozen Hours.

In the meantime, I have stuff to do outside later today. I need to empty out the little fountain, put away the chair cushions, and finish a little fall yard work.

Do not fret, I have a bunch of old jokes sealed up in electronic Ball Jars ready to be cracked open every Saturday for weeks to come. I am sure I can find something to offend just about everyone of you who desperately seek to be angry and offended at every turn. The rest of you I hope have a great Saturday.

weekend funny


Three girls worked in the same office for the same female boss. Each day, they noticed the boss left work early. The girls decided that the next day, when the boss left, they would leave right behind her. After all, she never called or came back to work, so how would she know they went home early?

The brunette was thrilled to be home early. She did a little gardening, spent playtime with her son, and went to bed early. The redhead was elated to be able to get in a quick workout before going on a dinner date. The blonde was happy to get home early and surprise her husband, but when she got to her bedroom, she heard a muffled noise from inside. Slowly and quietly, she cracked open the door and was mortified to see her husband in bed with her boss! Gently, she closed the door and crept out of her house.

The next day, at their coffee break, the brunette and redhead planned to leave early again, and they asked the blonde if she was going to go with them. “No way,” the blonde exclaimed. “I almost got caught yesterday!”

October 12, 2018

'Cause you asked for it



Friday Music, the feature that will not die.

I like it. One of my thirteen readers likes the feature.  Since we strictly follow Roberts Rules of Order here, abstentions go with the majority. I guess that means you all vote for more -- absent evidence to the contrary.

October 11, 2018

The Nutmeg of Clarissa Oakes

Up early today. So it goes. Sinatra is crooning softly in the background. My trusty and ever-listening Alexa just told me it is fifty-something outside. It was in the seventies when I went to bed some five hours ago.

I had a dream my wife was pregnant. She informed me of the news while we were on a camping trip, so I know it was all a dream, not a premonition. That and it is impossible for her to be preggers. Her important parts are gone, and I'm pretty sure we have to actually, you know, slap our boy and girl parts together. Besides, she loathes camping. She went camping with me once in about 1986 and declared never no more ever and ever and don't even ask. Therefore any idea that she went camping and delivered the "Guess what, Honey?" news is purely the stuff of imagination.

It was not that I did not make camping comfortable (as comfortable as tent camping can be --  a camper is not camping). I am an Eagle Scout of the old school type where camping and hiking was part of the scouting curriculum -- year round. I know how to make camping easy and fun. She hated all of it, starting with the tent itself. No matter how many times I explained that no crazed killer was going to drive out to the middle of nowhere to find our campsite when so many victims were readily available in cities and towns, she couldn't get past it. The blood-stained hook we found on the door handle of my truck the next morning probably did not help.

I made that last part up.

Anyway, here I am chatting electronically with you. I could be reading. I'm a little bogged down in the Aubry/Maturin Series right now. I have been through the entire series three or four times in the past 20 years. These same installments drag for me every time; the part where the lads are on the long voyage through Java, Indonesia, Australia, a made-up Pacific Island and Peru. The never-ending year of 1812. The events fill three or four books and frankly I think O'Brian ran out of material and was just writing books because they sold rather well. A lot of nothing happens. I mean one can only read page after page about reefing the topsails so many times.

Kind of like this blog.

October 10, 2018

My wife endorses this joke


A woman was walking down the street when she was accosted by a homeless woman who asked her for a couple of dollars for dinner. The woman took out her wallet, extracted ten dollars and asked, “If I give you this money, will you buy some wine with it instead of dinner?” “No, I had to stop drinking years ago”, the homeless woman replied. “Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?” the woman asked. “No, I don’t waste time shopping,” the homeless woman said. “I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.” “Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?” the woman asked. “Are you NUTS!” replied the homeless woman. “I haven’t had my hair done in 20 years!”
“Well,” said the woman, “I’m not going to give you the money. Instead, I’m going to take you out for dinner with my hubby and myself tonight.” The homeless woman was astounded. “Won’t your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I’m dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.” The woman replied, “That’s okay. It’s important for him to see what happens to a woman who had to give up shopping, hair appointments and wine.”

I'm jonesing for some pecan pie

Humpity Humpity Hump Day is upon us. It is a transition day in more than one sense. We have enjoyed August-like weather for a while now. The upper 80s will give way to more seasonable, in fact cooler than seasonal temperatures starting tomorrow. We will go from pushing 90 to near-freezing almost over night. Shorts to jeans and a jacket. But we won't have to deal with real weather like hurricanes, so I ain't complaining. Much.

A spate of cold weather will make the wife's pumpkins and gourds on the porch look a little more seasonal. It will maybe kick-start the leaves into turning. The Bradford Pears didn't drop their leaves until December last year. It is not that I want to rake leaves at all, but let's get it done with. 

Oh, and regarding the title, it is PEE cawn not pee CAN
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