"You are now adults blahblahblahPeanutsTeacherVoice..."

So I'm at my daughter's high school graduation the other day when one of the speakers gives the speech about how they are now adults snooooozzzzzzzzeeeee.....change the world snooooooozzzzzeeeee.....your responsibilty blah blah blah snooze.....ADULTS.....


...and then it happened.

One lone beach ball started getting hit in the air all through the field house where the graduation was held.

And now nobody was listening to the speaker as all eyes were on the beach ball. Smackin' off graduation caps! Side of the face! Students waiting for their chance to hit said beach ball.

...and then it happened.

Dr. Beach Ball grabbed the beach ball from a student and walked out near an exit, pulled out his pocket knife and stabbed the beach ball.

There will be no more distraction in Dr. Beach Balls Field House during graduation.

...and then it happened.

Another glorious beach ball rose above the crowd! There was joy in Mudville!

...and then it happened.

Dr. Beach Ball scowled. He waited to get his hands on said beach ball. He got it, stabbed it, and watched.

...and then it happened.

Yet another beach ball (adorned with fish) floated above the crowd! Anarchy ruled!

...and then it happened.

My daughter's grandfather who was sitting next to me.... smiled. Anarchy had a friend in Grandpa.

...and then it happened.

Dr. Beach Ball scowled even more. Stabbed even harder.

....and then it happened.

Anarchy was the boss of this graduation!

....and then it happened.

Dr. Beach Ball rounded up an army of gestapo agents to stop the beach ball assault.

...and then it haappened.

The graduating class of 2008 turned to their back up plan.

Bubbles. Squirt guns. Whatever else they could get their hands on.

So to the class of 2008....I salute you!

You're adults. With responsibilities.

Getting a quote from the car dealer.

Since the beginning of the 20th century there have been only three actual forces of evil.

• Hitler
• Hillary Clinton (I wonder what ever happened to her?)
• Car dealers

Hitler is dead.

Hillary: whereabouts unknown.

Which leaves us to car dealers.

They're evil.

You know this. I know this. (Hillary probably even knew this, before she vanished)

So the other day I go down to the car dealer to get a quote and possibly buy a car. I talk it up with my salesman...things are going smooth. I'm staying calm.

And then he has to go do something or check something. Or something.

And I'm sitting there by myself when I notice the stereotypical car dealer (loud coat, loud, loud tie, etc) walking by (not my guy, another guy) and I start talking to him.

Just about stuff. Guy stuff. Car stuff. Chicks. Baseball. Chicks in cars with baseballs.

And because he's not trying to sell me a car I find out he's a pretty good guy. He's clever. He's smart. He's funny. He just happens to sell cars.

We talk about our first cars. Mustangs. He's getting into yappin' with me. He remembers like it was yesterday.

We bonded. We're pals.

Here is part of the conversation:

ME: "You sell a lot of cars?"

HIM: "I do okay."

ME: "How many cars did you sell on your VERY best day?"

HIM: "Four." {for some reason I didn't hear him right or I wasn't paying attention and I thought he said "Eleven"}

ME: "ELEVEN! WOW!"

HIM: "No, I said four....If I sold eleven cars in one day, they'd still be writing songs about me."

---

And that my friends is the best quote I've ever received from a car dealer.

PS:

I'm sure if he was trying to sell me a car he would have had a little mustache and possibly a swastika arm band on.

Nuclear War !

>>>Nuclear war will begin next Thursday, June 12, or sooner, according to the latest prediction of self-proclaimed prophet Yisrayl "Buffalo Bill" Hawkins, the founder of a religious sect in Abilene, Texas.<<


My prediction is it will happen AFTER June 12th.

I'm a prophet.

You Don’t Mess with the Zohan

....and you don't go see it either.

Deal?

"Every vote counts!"

I live in a small town. And the town votes on things town related.

Recently the town had a vote on building a new 'senior center'...a center for people that are on the verge of dying.

Money not so well spent.

But anyhow...

So they had a vote about using tax dollars to build such a thing and I wasn't even aware of said vote until after the voting had passed.

I read about it after the fact. And the 'senior center' thingy passed by four (4) votes and the newspaper proclaimed:

"EVERY VOTE COUNTS! Don't ever let it be said that your ONE single vote doesn't matter because this vote PROVED that ONE vote does count."

WRONG!

You see....if I had voted the thing still would have passed by THREE (3) votes.

SO TO SUM UP:
I'm glad I didn't waste my time voting...and hopefully after all the 'seniors' die they make that 'senior center' into maybe a cool pool room or cigar bar or gas station.

Or something.

TO FURTHER SUM UP:

One vote never counts. They should make each vote worth ten votes and then maybe more folks would vote. And I should be in charge.

Sears.com is the Anti-Christ.

You think I kid?

About something like Anti Christs?

I think not.

So I buy a dishwasher online from Sears (anti christ) and I opt for delivery and installation.

Delivery and installation is $229.00 (On a $750.00 machine)...so I'm at about $980.00 plus tax. $1028 ish.

And now they're ready to deliver it and they mention:

A Plumbing 'permit fee' of $35.00

An Electrical 'permit fee' of $35.00

An Electrical 'Reconnect ::snicker:: fee' of $69.99.

So my $749.99 dishwasher is now $1157.47. (Installation is around 50% on a freakin' dishwasher)

So I went to my town hall and asked about the fees.

Turns out Sears got the fees wrong (Lied)

So I cancel said diswasher. Go down to my local appliance center, order the exact one, and save 326 large.

I don't care what someone charges. I do care about weasel charges.

So to sum up:

Sears.com= The anti-christ

Local Appliance Center=The Jesus

Copy and paste can tire you out....but it's worth it.

Ding Dong! The Witch is dead. Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!

Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead.

Wake up - sleepy head, rub your eyes, get out of bed.

Wake up, the Wicked Witch is dead. She's gone where the goblins go,

Below - below - below. Yo-ho, let's open up and sing and ring the bells out.

Ding Dong' the merry-oh, sing it high, sing it low.
Let them know
The Wicked Witch is dead!

As Mayor of the Munchkin City, In the County of the Land of Oz,
I welcome you most regally.

But we've got to verify it legally, to see

To see?

If she

If she?

Is morally, ethic'lly Spiritually, physically Positively, absolutely Undeniably and reliably Dead

As Coroner I must aver, I thoroughly examined her.

And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead.

Then this is a day of Independence For all the Munchkins and their descendants

If any.

Yes, let the joyous news be spread The wicked Old Witch at last is dead!

(It's funny...but last night I noticed Obama's calves and thighs looked a tad big... I wonder what that could mean?)

Hillary Drops-Out Countdown Fever!

I've got the fever!

You've got the fever!

This whole election has the fever! Hillary has the fever! The whole trial has the fever!!

ATTICA! ATTICA! ATTICA!

Other words you can make using the letters in BLOG

-Log

-Go

-Bog

-Glob


I've never had this much fun in my entire life.

R.I.P. Bo Diddley

So Hoag sends me his idea for a NY POST HEADLINE (they're famous for tacky headlines)

NO MO BO

And I countered with:

BO DEADDLEY

So what do you have?

Thomas' English Muffins

Just seeing those three words brings a smile to your face.

You can picture the butter flowing into the nooks. The crannies. The crunch. The taste. The Heaven.

Maybe a dollop of peanut butter.

Back when I was a kid my Mom usually bought the dreaded 'store brand' as Thomas' were deemed too expensive. Or something.

Every once in a while she would treat us and buy Thomas'. You know, the english muffin that the rich kids ate.

But wanna know something?

(And I've been keeping this quiet for the last few months because I thought it was just me.)

But old Uncle Thomas has changed his recipe or something because these Thomas' English Muffins are small and are lacking the nook. Lacking the cranny. They're hard to cut in half. They don't brown up nice in the toaster. They're a tad on the 'mealy' side. They're horrible. Possibly the worst english muffin on the market.

They probably had to do something to cut down on costs and thought they could just coast on their rep.

But they can't.

Thomas' English Muffins are dead to me. Bland and boring. And dead.

MORAL OF THE STORY?

Don't mess with my muffins!

Not a clever bunch, tall perhaps, but not clever.

At the end of the football season the champions of each conference meet in the Super Bowl to crown a champion. THE. SUPER. BOWL. CHAMPIONS.

THE SUPER BOWL.

At the end of the hockey season the two remaining teams meet in a seven game series to determine the winner of the Stanley Cup. The Stanley Cup Finals. THE. STANLEY. CUP. CHAMPIONS.

THE STANLEY CUP.

And in baseball the champion of the American League plays the National League champion and the winner is crowned The World Series Champion. THE. WORLD. SERIES. CHAMPIONS.

THE WORLD SERIES.

Which brings me to basketball.

I'm guessing you don't know what it's called when the best team from the west faces the best team from the east.

THE BASKETBALL WORLD SERIES!?

Nope.

GRAND TERRIFICO!

Nope.

HOOP CHAMP!

Nope.

SLAM CHAMPS!

Nope.

HOOP SPRINGS ETERNALS!

Nope.

You don't know what it's called...do you?

(I know you do...but the others that read this blog don't)

And do you want to know why most folks don't know what the last series of the year that determines the champion is called?

I'll tell you why.

Because it's LAME!

It's called THE FINALS.

The Finals.

Lame. The Finals.

That's the best they could come up with.

(Beat L.A.)

R.I.P Harvey Korman

He wanted rustlers, cut throats, murderers, bounty hunters, desperados, mugs, pugs, thugs, nitwits, halfwits, dimwits, vipers, snipers, con men, Indian agents, Mexican bandits, muggers, buggerers, bushwhackers, hornswogglers, horse thieves, bull dykes, train robbers, bank robbers, ass-kickers, shit-kickers and Methodists.

The Flat Tire

So on Memorial Day I was working and called up Wifey to see how her day was going.

She told me it was horrible....she was out at a store and got a flat tire.

I asked her if she changed the tire.

She said no....she'd call her Dad and he'd take care of it for her (she had already gotten a ride home...she left the car in the parking lot of The Store I Won't Shop At)

Now her Dad is in his 70s and really shouldn't be changing flat tires so I said:

"I'll do it after work."

You can hear the silence on the other end, can't ya?

But Wifey doesn't want to insult 'her man' by making him feel weak and stupid so she says:

"Okay."

So I get home, pick her up, and drive To The Store I Won't Shop At. I open the trunk and get out the jack and spare tire.

Wifey is looking at me with this don'tfuckitupdon'tfuckitupdon'tfuckitup look on her face.

(She uses that face often with me )

Did I mention I'm in my late 40s and have never changed a flat tire before? (I have people for that...usually Wifey's Dad)

And she's watching me as I take off the lug nuts. My muscles are bulging. Wind blowing through my hair. Sweat on the chest,small of the back. I jack up the car. She's watching. I remove the tire. She's watching. I put on the spare. She's watching. I tighten up lug nuts and lower jack. She's watching and she's impressed.

She watched Her Man change a tire and she was aroused.

In the parking lot of The Store I Won't Shop At.

I hope it didn't make my thighs look big.

So I'm getting ready to leave for work the other day and this is the conversation I had with Wifey (after she gave me the once over with her eyes)

WIFEY: "Is that the same outfit you were wearing yesterday?"

ME: "I don't wear outfits....I'm wearing jeans and a shirt. And no, it's not the same outfit as yesterday."

Pork Chop Hill

So the other day I'm watching a movie named Pork Chop Hill about the Korean War. More specifically....about a hill named Pork Chop (because of it's shape)



Both the Koreans and Americans want said Pork Chop Hill. So they battle over it.

Pork Chop Hill.



Here is some of the dialogue from the movie PORK CHOP HILL:



-"We need Pork Chop"



-"I want Pork Chop"



-"We must defend Pork Chop"



-"We need supplies on Pork Chop"



-"We're taking lots of casualities on Pork Chop"



-I'm the commander of Pork Chop"



-"There is no need for Pork Chop"



-"Pork Chop will be ours."



-"We'll fight to the end for Pork Chop"



-"They want Pork Chop, also"



-"Just move fast up Pork Chop"



-"Why do we need Pork Chop?"



-"You will die on Pork Chop"



-"I will not die on Pork Chop"



-"We've suffered numerous casualities on Pork Chop"



-"We need ammo, water, and supplies on Pork Chop"



-"We MUST keep Pork Chop"



-We CAN'T lose Pork Chop"



-"Surrender Pork Chop!"



-"To die on Pork Chop"



-"Our orders are to defend Pork Chop"



-"There are 125 of us on Pork Chop"



-"There are 63 left of us on Pork Chop"



-"23 soldiers remain on Pork Chop"



-"Wouldn't you rather be home than on Pork Chop?"



-"Wouldn't you rather be with your loved ones than on Pork Chop?"



-"I can't just leave my buddy dead on Pork Chop!"



-"My buddy is dead on Pork Chop!"



-"They forgeotten about us all here on Pork Chop"



And on and on.



Now with dialogue like that (a few I paraphrased from memory) you think the movie isn't all that good.



But it is.



Now what you're probably thinking is that at this point I was craving pork chops. But I wasn't.



Wanna know why?



Because every time they said 'Pork Chop' I made myself hear 'Fried Chicken'



And now I'm craving fried chicken.



And some mashed potatoes.



And gravy.



And pork chops.



PS



I would vacation in Korea if they had a place called Fried Chicken Hill

Jesse Jackson Reads Green Eggs and Ham

A Memorial Day interlude:

Gone fishing.

I'll be back after Memorial Day.

Unless Ted Kennedy dies and then I'll be back sooner.

How do you like dem apples, Ted?

Well, it seems like Ted Kennedy is on the verge of meeting Mary Jo Kopechne in heaven.

Oh wait, my mistake....

Pompous bootmaker

Last night old daughter and I were flicking through the channels looking for something to watch when we stumbled upon a movie called Hobson's Choice.

We read the tv guide description and decided to pass on it.

Seems it's about a pompous bootmaker.

Damn pompous bootmakers...as if i'd actually watch a movie about them.

What's next? Pompous landscapers? Pompous garbagemen?

We had a choice.

We chose not to watch the stupid film.

Pompous movie people.