Saturday, February 1, 2014

pppfffffffffffffffffffffttttttttttttttttttttttt

well, still can't see very well. Still can't make paragraphs on blogger....but I scrapped together enough money for a beer. back later.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

no time for blogging.... have some punch

"Well, no," says the Irishman, "but it happens to me sister all the time!"
"Damn, I just joined the Rotary Club.""No", the guys says, "I can't believe that the donkey sold the place." “Oh, those are the peanuts,” he replies. “They’re complimentary.” And the rabbi replied, "No . . . I think I'll just wait for the police." The blind man is silent for a moment and then says, "Nah, I wouldn't want to have to explain it five times."

Friday, November 1, 2013

Duck this why doncha

there is a line between wise-cracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wise-cracking is simply calisthenics with words.” BUT.... a joke is a joke is a joke...... as long as I think it's funny...it's called the jimm-rule. Five doctors went duck hunting one day. Included in the group were a general practice (GP) physician, a pediatrician, a psychiatrist, a surgeon and a pathologist. After a time, a bird came winging overhead. The first to react was the GP who raised his shotgun, but then hesitated. "I'm not quite sure it's a duck," he said, "I think that I will have to get a second opinion." And of course by that time, the bird was long gone. Another bird appeared in the sky thereafter. This time, the pediatrician drew a bead on it. He too, however, was unsure if it was really a duck in his sights and besides, it might have babies. "I'll have to do some more investigations," he muttered, as the creature made good its escape. Next to spy a bird flying was the sharp-eyed psychiatrist. Shotgun shouldered, he was more certain of his intended prey's identity. "Now, I know it's a duck, but does it know it's a duck?" The fortunate bird disappeared while the fellow wrestled with this dilemma. Finally, a fourth fowl sped past and this time the surgeon's weapon pointed skywards. BOOM!! The surgeon lowered his smoking gun and turned nonchalantly to the pathologist beside him. "Go see if that was a duck, will you?" I was going to kill myself today by taking a thousand aspirin. But after taking the first two I felt better. I failed my Health and Safety class test today. Apparently, when they ask you, "In the event of a fire, what steps would you take?" "Goddam large ones" is not the correct answer The devout cowboy lost his favorite Bible while he was mending fences out on the range. Three weeks later, a duck walked up to him carrying the Bible in its mouth. The cowboy couldn't believe his eyes. He took the precious book out of the duck's mouth, raised his eyes heavenward and exclaimed, "It's a miracle!" "Not really," said the duck. "Your name is written inside the cover." A man in a movie theater notices what looks like a duck sitting next to him. "Are you a duck?" asked the man, surprised. "Yes." "What are you doing at the movies?" The duck replied, "Well, I liked the book." A policeman in the big city stops a man in a car with a duck in the front seat. "What are you doing with that duck?" He exclaimed, "You should take it to the zoo." The following week, the same policeman sees the same man with the duck again in the front seat, with both of them wearing sunglasses. The policeman pulls him over. "I thought you were going to take that duck to the zoo!" The man replied, "I did. We had such a good time we are going to the beach this weekend!" A man and his pet duck walk into a bar. It's about 5pm, but they're ready for a good night of drinking. They start off slowly, watching TV, drinking beer, eating peanuts. As the night goes on they move to mixed drinks, and then shooters, one after the other. Finally, the bartender says: "Last call." So, the man says, "One more for me... and one more for my duck." The bartender sets them up and they shoot them back. Suddenly, the duck falls over dead. The man throws some money on the bar, puts on his coat and starts to leave. The bartender, yells: "Hey buddy, you can't just leave that lyin' there." To which the man replies: "That's not a lion, that's a duck.".... ok.... rained all day yesterday...about one and half inches. dark...gloomy today. It just left me all feeling ...ducky

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

I dream of shadows, long and deep

***** this is a draft of something I wrote back in May. A first draft. It ain't no never mind. But for lack of anything else, I post it now. tell me what you think.
"ah, but I was so much older then,
I'm younger than that now."

Before I feel asleep last night I heard on a news show that it was 45 years ago that Bobby Kennedy was assassinated, on June 4th, 1968. And I was thrown back in time. That was the summer I came of age, which I always thought of as a dumb thing to say.  I mean, what age are we talking about anyway?  First kiss, first beer, first fist fight, first drunk, first time you got laid?  Well, other than the last, I had already done all the former, the last item would not take place for another year,  and I was still short of my 16th birthday that summer.   I had fine tuned the art of shaving with my father's Gillette two side blue blade by then, after a year of trying to turn my face into cole slaw in my efforts to rid my countenance of a rapid and extremely dense black hair growth.  Felt it made me look way too much like the farmers that came into town on saturdays and hung out at the feed mill.  I was a TOWN boy and noway wanted to look like the hayseed kids that didn't shave at all and appeared scruffy and uneducated for lack of trying.
But it was Bobby's murder that set the tone for that summer, for me, and for all the innocence I may still have had at that point.
I always will remember watching it on my own TV, and ancient 12 inch model that Al at the newspaper had given me.  It worked well enough with the rabbit ears, and all, but you did have to jump up often and fine tune the dial or move the antennae, yet it wtill made me a bit special among my friends because I did have one after all and they didn't.  I also had a regular job, which most didn't and that summer it paid me the extravagant wage of $1.15  per hour.  At the newspaper.  It was a small establishment that published twice a week, or to be honest, it was two weeklies that were run from the same office, by the same staff, The Sparta Herald on Mondays and the Monroe County Democrat that ran on Thursdays.  My Dad was the Advertising manager for both and the year before, when there was an opening for the magnificently named  position of 'Shit Kid',well he made sure I filled it.  I am not kidding either.... that was the name of the job, or at least what all the pressman in the back called me, as in " kid, do this shit,"  or " kid, come ere; got shit for you to do," or 'kid, you doan know shit." .I rather liked the place, the gruffy pressmen.  I ran ad copy to the groceries for Dad, delivered the job printing, the funeral cards to the funeral homes, was the spare hands on press day, and came in on Saturday's and emptied the waste cans, ashtrays and mopped the floor.  In only one year I had gone from the minimum wage of $.85 to the princely $1.15.  I did like the place.... I heard things... politics, city gossip, got to hang out in a REAL bar some Friday's when Dad and the Editor would have 'business' meetings.  It was good.

But then Bobby was shot.... not long after Martin Luther King was shot....

'..... and the shit broke out in Watts











And the stuff from Nam filled the news, Khe Sanh, My Lai, the Tet offensive...
... and protests were breaking out all over, Madison, Columbia, Howard University...Johnson announced he would not see re-election. Eugene McCarthy was making peace waves. And I was very concerned about making the Varsity Football team.

...and there were Black Panter shoot-outs,  everyone was starving in Biafra, the Czech Spring ended with a Soviet invasion.... the World was getting smaller and now that our family finally had gotten cable TV and moved from three channels to 12, it was in our living room, in color, though, as in many other things in life, the color needed constant attention and tuning least it be too red, or blue or green.  And adjust you must, see, or you would miss that brand new show on TV, Laugh-In......

 ....though my favorite show was still the Smothers Brothers.

* well that is far as I got. the first time. I pulled this up because I thought it was time to throw up a post. I do forget where I was going with all that. I know, later that year, I did get a driver's license...I did make the Varsity... the youngest kid on the squad. but the summer was over. Just like this one. And now I watch the news and there is ....nothing...about a war that still lingers. I was back home for a while last summer....and walked the old main street. Most of the stores that once were there...are closed or turned into new& used shops...heavy on the used. But there is a Walmart. Oh boy. Back then...I liked the fall...now...the shadows at night come in too quickly for me to embrace them. I am not sure where I am going now...and I do care. Back then, I didn't....just moved through the days. it is funny how time works....and how the shadows of everything you knew can sometimes creep up on you, and that voice says, 'sleep, boy, it's all ok.

Monday, October 7, 2013

what's in a name anywayz

well, it was a pretty uneventful week. sorta. wiped out on the bike while transfersing the cemetary. thats another story. but I broke the pinky on my right hand.....a real shame, see, cause it was my favorite digit with wich to pick my noes, again, no big deal, cause the nose is big enough and other fingers fit u- there just fine. thank you very much. and it doesn't hurt a whole lot, but it kind of just hangs there. again, not a big deal. it's just that little knuckle thingee right behind the nail. well not having insurance I just figured I coulod mend this sucker. bought some popsickles. they come with free sticks. so you eat the popsickles and keep the stick and wrap the whole thing up with duct tape. cept/// couldn't find the duct tape..had to use scotch tape. seemed to work just fine...cept when I woke up the thingee wasw covered in ants. see, I live in a real swifty neat apartment. Next time I will wash them there sticks instead of just licking them clean. good thing I didn't just try to pick the nose. coulda had splinter AND ants. No teacher like experience is what I say. anyways...during all that futzing around and watching football... why gosh, I caught some news. Mainly.....some folks are saying the Washington Redskins should change their name, what with Redskin kind of being a derogatory name and all. and I guess it is...but, i'm thinking, all in all, there are more pressing issues...like opening up government and getting the nation back to work...maybe world peace...ending hunger...and then i'm thinking...well...it is kind of nasty. and maybe it should just be changed. like, see, if they were they Washington Wetbacks....well, no one would fly with that ....I mean, that is pretty offensive. So...I'm still think...maybe I bird or an animal or something. approporiate to ................DC like..maybe, the Deaf Fuckers...but then, that would be pretty offensive, too, and a whole buncha disabled folks wouln't like that much no matter how well it would fit Congress. and War Mongers would be good too, but that may set off the sensiblities of some...like Quakers and other pacifists. SO...how about this.... THE LYNCH MOB !!!!!! I think it is appropiate.....seeing as how everyone in Washington anywhere to the right really really likes Obama.....and gosh, the could make a lotta money selling new jerseys and souveniers. bring hangman nooses to games and stuff. White robes could be popu;ar again.... well, maybe I should just setttle down....think of something else. i would be asking too much of America to swap out a perfect;y good offensive sport nick name for another one. aso...then I was thinking other deep thoughts, like, how come Boston is the only city in the USA with a dog named after them? Ya know, Boston terriers. How come there is no Milwaukee Mutts? No Detroit Dobermans? No Fresno Flea Bags? Gosh&stuff...the world is full of complex questions. I best eat another popsickle...I gotzta change my splint.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

I believe we should have a government program to help provide affordable beer for all Americans. It is shocking ...... how many Americans go to bed sober. I believe I will call it.... jimmocare. Or, the ABA, Affordable Beer Act. With a little work we CAN wipe out Sobriety in our life time.

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