I’m confused, as regular readers of this blog already know. Here’s what currently has my head spinning.
My head hurts. Please explain.
A neighbor and I both walk in the mornings. I met him coming back home as I headed out yesterday. I couldn’t help but notice that he was saying the rosary as he walked. When I walk, I forage for wild berries and look for loose change on the ground.
Am I a bad guy?
Will your opinion change if I promise to donate the penny I found yesterday to the poor?
My new scar is not it. It’s pathetic.
I was so hopeful. This post-skin cancer surgery wound held such promise.
WARNING: DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH.
Ever since I hung up my running shoes earlier this year and settled on walking and biking (once I fixed my bike) as my exercises for the future, I have noticed my fellow exercisers more. I no longer have to try and avoid people as I run so they don’t see my jiggling fat. I walk. I wave. I engage them in conversation … well, some of them. Here’s how I rank them from unfriendly to the friendliest.
They are the absolute worst, wearing their fancy cycling clothes and teardrop-shaped aerodynamic bike helmets. There’s me with my teardrop-shaped body trying to give them a wave or nod, but they are always too busy going 100 miles per hour to acknowledge me back. Oh, was that a tree branch I accidentally left on the path?
I’m not sure my morning smoothie should look like this …
… unless I’m a vampire. It does seem sort of bright outside this morning. I’m feeling like I should close the blinds and go back to bed.
Anyway, the ingredients follow:
Enjoy the smoothie … mere mortal.
Trump’s weekend speeches make it clear how comfortable he feels walking on the wrong side of history. If only he felt the same way about busy highways.
Is it just me, or is Make America Great Again a lame slogan for an incumbent President trying for a second term? I guess it’s better than Make America Great Again, Like Russia that Trump’s boss Putin suggested.
I’ve often been accused of being too controversial and too confrontational with my blog posts. I disagree. I think I am very protroversial and profrontational with what I post.
Let’s play a game. One of these people is not like the others. Can you identify the person in this pic not accused (yet) of a sexual crime?
HINT: The person not accused (yet) of a sexual crime is the one that looks high as a kite.
HINT: The silent “s” in Ghislaine stands for sex.
HINT: The men pictured are both sexual deviants.
Thank you for playing.
Doesn’t that title sound like a catchphrase from a bad TV show? It’s not, but we do have these mock berries growing all over our property. I have eaten them regularly for years without knowing for sure exactly what they are.
I’ve always called them wild strawberries. But it turns out, they are not strawberries. They are called a mock strawberry and are the fruit of an invasive weed. As soon as my wife heard they were a weed, she threatened to remove them from the yard. But not so fast! They are healthy.
They are full of vitamins, minerals, and phytosterols. Is that last one good? I looked it up, did some research, and still don’t know. What if I suffer from lack of phytosterols in my diet and my wife gets rid of the mock strawberries? I guess I could get regular strawberries and mock them myself.
The bottom line for a fruit is taste. Sweet, juicy watermelon. Crisp, tart apples. Mmmm. One website accurately, in my opinion, describes the mock strawberry’s taste as “dry and insipid and are tasteless.” I find it interesting that both the mock strawberry and this blog can be described in exactly the same way.
Here is my recipe for this smoothie.
Any quantity of any of those ingredients is fine. Any fruit-to-fruit substitution for any ingredient is allowed. Basically, anything goes as long as you are not substituting beef jerky for one of the ingredients. And, NO ADDED SUGAR ALLOWED!
The result? This …
I have 2 excellent scars that I am more than willing to show you. However, one is on the bottom of my foot from the time I was standing on a fish bowl while playing with my bird. What’s that? You don’t understand? I think that statement was quite explanatory. The other excellent scar is on my back from one of my skin cancer removals. Nobody wants to look at that scar buried in my back fat. So, with my recent skin cancer removal from my leg, I was excited to soon have a very visible scar. I mean, that Harry Potter was so lucky.
Such a cool scar and all he has to do is lift his hair. Based on my hair or lack thereof, such a scar on me would be visible 100% of the time on me. Well, at least this leg scar of mine will be easily visible if I keep my left leg shaved and wear shorts all the time.
I’m heading out to a restaurant tonight and I was ready to cross my legs and show-off the scar. But this has happened … Continue reading
I was in a rhyming, but bad mood about Trump knowing about Russian bounties on American soldiers’ heads as I walked this morning. The only thing that kept me from screaming was that I was also picking berries as I walked. Anyway, here it is …
The poem is a pic, so feel free to save and share.
The blockbuster novella I published earlier this year called My Parasitic Twin Wants to be President is for sale this weekend for under $1. Use this link to buy a digital copy you can read on a PC, Mac, iPhone, Android phone, or Kindle tablet for just $0.99 … https://tinyurl.com/BuyTwinBook. All proceeds will be donated to local Democratic candidates.
The NY Times Book Review noted, “This is one of the most powerful books of 2020.” They weren’t talking about the book I published, but my book does have reviews. How about this one?
“A witty story that combines humor, satire, and astute observations of our current political reality. Connects the absurd with contemporary issues, providing the reader with an unexpected, humorous, and thought-provoking perspective of modern times. Well written and engaging from cover to cover. Highly recommended!” Who needs the NY Times Book Review when you have a review like that on Amazon?
Now if you don’t intend to purchase, I need to introduce you to the illustrator.
News from Ohio threatens that this is possibly coming soon …
Full story here … https://fox8.com/news/featured/stouffers-unveils-mac-on-tap-machine/
I have 2 questions:
As I headed out this morning, I noticed this stuck to the side of my car.
It looks like it could be from a bird hitting the side of my car. I hope not for a couple reasons. First, the poor bird! But also, the car is a lease. I’m praying there’s no dent under those feathers. I don’t want to try and explain to the insurance company.
I’m hoping it was not a bird accident but rather a voodoo curse. Not that I want to be cursed, although after 3 & 1/2 years of the Trump administration, it may not seem so bad. But if someone around town here is laying voodoo curses on people, I may have some business I could swing their way.
It is that time of the year again — when I forgo buying food in stores and forage for food in the woods and occasionally late at night in dumpsters behind grocery stores. This morning I wasn’t in the woods but in an industrial business park that has some excellent mulberry trees on the perimeter of the parking lot. I’ve been scouting berry harvesting locations all spring. I came away with this haul of mulberries today …
Q: How are mulberries and my jokes similar?
My wife likes American football. Her favorite team is our hometown Chicago Bears. Go Bears!
BTW, that’s not her. But she really wants the NFL to hold a season this year. The NBA and NHL have sort of figured out how to finish their truncated 2019-2020 seasons despite the COVID-19 coronavirus. Major League Baseball is still struggling with how to hold a season. My wife doesn’t care about those sports. She just wants the NFL season to go on as scheduled. It’s not that she’s such a football fanatic. It’s because of this beauty …
I was so excited when I received the notification that a couple comments were made in response to one of my older blog posts. My blog posts don’t elicit many comments. I don’t blame you readers. I make it a point not to comment on anyone’s blog who is so obviously mentally ill. But finally, I was getting the conversation started. The excitement lasted until I read the comment …
So many questions filled my head:
Of course, I’m no stranger to nasty comments as I regularly navigate the waters of Twitter while throwing out anti-Trump chum. At least this comment from Kim Nho didn’t include a wrestling challenge like this Twitter throwdown from Texas Senator Ted Cruz …
Hopefully, some reader will look at this post and be able to help out. After changing brake pads on a bike, is it normal to have this many leftover parts?
Oh, almost forgot … I’m asking for a friend.
I retired our pool liner last year. It had gotten brittle over several seasons of use (I can relate) and had started springing leaks (I can also relate) that I was patching. I figured there would be no problem purchasing a replacement liner for a 4 year old pool. Boy, was I wrong (I relate too often).
Apparently, my old pool liner was a death trap because of only 1 filter intake line. That design was deemed unsafe for some reason, discontinued, and replaced with a dual filter intake line. So, I couldn’t get the replacement liner I needed. The simple solution seemed to be to just buy a complete new pool. Nope, that was also not an option.
Due to the COVID-19 coronavirus, pools are in short supply. And when I found one like my old $350 pool, they were priced over $1000. A discount grocery store near us advertised a reasonably-priced pool, and people were lined-up at 6AM waiting for the store to open at 9AM to get a pool. Back to the replacement liner option for me.
By studying replacement part lists for the various styles of pools from the manufacturer, I decided that by enlarging holes using the precision of a brain surgeon (I cannot relate) and slapping a patch on another hole, I could make a current model pool liner fit the hardware from our old pool and make the filter system a death trap again. Except … pool liners are in short supply. I calculated that by adding cable ties and duct tape, I may be able to make a random liner from another model of pool fit the hardware from our old pool. That was a sketchy plan at best, especially when I accidentally ordered a 15 foot liner rather than the 16 footer that I needed.
I could sense something was wrong as I was assembling the pool. It didn’t seem quite right (I can relate). I got to almost the end, there were leftover parts, and the pool hardware wouldn’t fit. I cut down and drilled one of the metal parts, and voilà …
Not only do I have a 15 foot pool, but it seems sturdier than the original 16 footer. As a bonus, I did not have to use duct tape and now have a couple spare metal parts.
It looked great. I was ready to enjoy it and get some exercise. Only 352 laps to a mile! But then, the weather got chilly. Oh, and I got cancer. I’ll explain … about the cancer part. You should be able to figure out the chilly weather part yourself.
Just recently, retired General Colin Powell endorsed Joe Biden for President. Yes, the same Colin Powell who served as NSA under Reagan. Yes, the same Colin Powell who served as Commander of the Joint Chiefs of Staff under Bush 1 and Clinton. Yes, the same Colin Powell who served as Secretary of State under Bush 2. Still don’t believe me? See for yourself …
Definitely a shocker and also a great opportunity for some excellent Biden campaign slogans tied to Powell’s endorsement. It all hinges on the fact that Powell pronounces his first name like one says the word colon. That leads me to these slogans for the Biden camp to consider.
#1) Listen to your head, heart, and Colin – Vote Biden 2020. Huh? What do you think? No? Oh, don’t worry. I have more.
As I opened the back of my car to load some groceries, I realized just how bad this looks.
I swear, I am not planning to dump a body in a shallow grave. I would definitely dig a deep grave. I really am only planning to get mulch later this morning. I have no plans to use the bone saw in my basement to cut the body up that I would have stored in my freezer if there was a body. Really, I haven’t even chosen a victim yet. You could say that this is mulch ado about nothing, which is a great segue to a Mulch Ado About Nothing cartoon about death …
I went this week for a semi-annual full body check by my dermatologist. I have some history of skin cancer, so I can usually count on my dermatologist to take a few bits and pieces of me every visit. I was not disappointed this time.
As I sat in the waiting room before my appointment, I was taking a mental inventory of all the suspicious spots on my body that I wanted my dermatologist to take a look at. Temple, chin, chest, back, and left leg all harbored spots I didn’t like. And then I saw an unknown spot on my right leg. I was genuinely startled. That one looked nasty. How could I have missed it before? It looked something like this. In fact, it looked exactly like this because this was it …
I’m old enough to recall events back in the day featuring quarter beers. Yep, I remember quarter beer nights where you would get a blast of beer in a small paper cup for 25 cents. But am I so old that a bottle of cognac costs $145,000 these days? This bottle in particular …
C’mon, I can’t even read the label. It’s a 1762 Gautier Cognac that went for that much at auction. Full story HERE.
So, if a 250+ year old cognac sells for that much, how about a beverage 8 times as old? Specifically, this one …
I hope to publish another book this summer. No, not a sequel to My Parasitic Twin Wants to be President. You wish! This will be a collection of short stories on a common theme.
I send my stories to my cousin who also happens to be a professional editor. She seems to take great delight in finding and editing my mistakes, and then typically provides some words of encouragement like “this one should definitely be in your book.” She is my mentor. I am her … mentee? manatee? mental?
I’m down to my next-to-last story, and this one didn’t go as I had hoped. I received no edit. I received no encouragement. I did not pass GO or collect $200. Instead, over the course of several emails, my cousin/editor described the story as:
Gee, I hope she wasn’t holding back so as not to hurt my feelings. Her guidance and edits have made me a better writer. I absolutely value her opinion. But so far, two other test-readers have liked the story. Hopefully, I will get more feedback from other test-readers this weekend.
Maybe my cousin/editor was too busy with editing projects. Maybe she didn’t even read the 4,000 word story. Maybe she just glanced at this blog to get a general idea about where my writing is today. If that’s the case, I heartily agree with her assessment.
I ventured out early morning today to the grocery store. Every grocery trip is a death-defying experience in the Age of Covid-19. The store I chose used to be open 24/7/365. Now it opens at 8AM per the guard at the north entrance. Yep, that’s what I read on the sign behind him. He told me I could wait in line. It was 6AM. I chose to walk back to my car past the south entrance where I was told by the guard there that I could walk right in. I’m guessing he recognized me from this blog as a major social media influencer. He probably feared that I could shut down their regional chain of 242 stores with one bad review on this blog.
I returned home as a hero, primarily because of this treasure I had plundered from the store …
I was busy this past Memorial Day weekend. I finished four 10Ks over four consecutive weekend days. No, not 10K (6.2 mile) running races. My running days are over. Steps! 10,000 steps minimum a day for four consecutive days. I noticed on Friday that I just barely broke 10K steps after cutting the front lawn after work. Could I do it for 3 more days? I only had one more lawn. I surprised myself, even topping 16K steps on Saturday.
To my utter amazement, I may have also made a shocking scientific discovery. I lost weight. I’m starting to think there may be some weird connection between exercise and weight loss.
I was unwilling/unable to continue the exercise/weight loss experiment after the weekend. On Tuesday, I decided to take a step back and rest. I’m going to need to be well-rested if you expect me to make the scientific health discovery of a lifetime and win a Nobel Prize.
There are people everywhere appalled at this pic.
Not me. I see a couple obvious common threads. First one:
But the one that really jumps out at me is …
My only advice is … try harder.
Chicago is a world-class metropolitan area, despite New York snobs looking down upon us as “The Second City.” I feel privileged to have lived in various suburbs within a short car ride of Chicago my whole life. One of the suburbs I haven’t lived in is Forest Park. It is close to Chicago as you can see here …
Although I have never lived there, it appears that Jesus does. Take a look …
For the first time in 9+ weeks since I injured my right knee, I awoke this morning and felt my knee was finally looking normal again. It had a nice dimple on the inside of my knee where it used to be swollen with fluid. I still get a little pain from time to time, but I think that is a good warning to never run again.
To celebrate the return of my knee dimple, I took an early morning walk without the dog. I could walk at whatever pace I wanted for a change. Little did I know I would be race-walking.
As I headed north on one street, I found myself less than 1/10th of a mile behind a middle-aged woman who was also walking. The race was on. Does it count as a race if the other person doesn’t know they are racing? Little did I know that I was not only racing to finish first, but also to preserve my pride and retain what little dignity I could find.
I do my best to avoid Nestle brand products in protest of their ravaging of western Michigan’s groundwater. Click HERE for details in case you are interested in why you should buy a Hershey’s Krackel bar rather than a Nestle’s Crunch bar, besides the superior Hershey’s favor.
So, when Nestle announced a contest to find the most unique recipe for their semi-sweet chocalate chips, I was unmoved. Someone is going to win a year’s supply of chocolate chips and probably 50 extra pounds of fat in their ass for some weird receipe using chocolate chips in a mole sauce. Ugh, I hate that. This is how to eat chocolate …
And if you must eat chocolate chip cookies, buy Chips Ahoy. They taste great and do not use Nestle chocolate chips. But stay away from this version …
Decades ago, I used to run pain-free and measure myself by my mile splits run over long distances. In recent years, I have measured myself by the total distance I ran, biked, walked, and swam. These days, I find myself retired from running, the weather too cold to swim, and my bike badly needing new brakes. And so, I walk.
I hear that you are supposed to walk 10,000 steps a day. I can’t seem to do that. I’m very satisfied when I get in half that amount daily. I have enjoyed seeing how many steps I can take in a day, setting new personal bests from time to time. And then on Saturday, this happened to ruin that forever …
My wife works at a school, and there are big questions as to what school will look like in the fall. Maybe like this classroom in China with kids in masks and with social distancing hats on …
If there is no in-school classroom, my wife may be out of work. We just don’t know at this time. Taking matters into her own paws, our dog got my wife a job offer today by looking like this …
This Kansas man has been ruled “not insane.”
That’s right, he’s not insane despite filing a trial by battle request in an Iowa court to fight a duel with swords with his ex-wife or her attorney to settle a child custody suit and to “rend their souls from their (corporeal) bodies.” Well, what man hasn’t wanted to duel with his ex and especially her attorney? I’ve had dreams of dueling with my ex’s lawyer that go something like this.
In addition to not being insane, he claims his ex-wife and her attorney are the crazy ones. Full story HERE in the Des Moines Register.
But this next guy may want to hold off on the scrubbing.
A huge benefit to wearing a mask in public is that I no longer have to smell other people’s body odor … or mine.
Doobies are dominating today’s news. First, this happened …
Full story can be read HERE. Sounds crazy, but who reading this can honestly say that they haven’t accidentally wandered onto a runway while a jet is landing?
So, where’s the doobie? That would be Airport spokesman Bryce Dubee who said officials do not believe the man was supposed to be on the runway at the time, but they’re working to confirm that and determine the events leading up to his death.
I know of only one person that should be anywhere close to an airport runway, and that would be the aircraft marshall directing the jets to the gates. You know them by their wands, ear protection, vests, and crazy dance moves.
Hey Bryce Dubee, stop wasting time and close the investigation now. There is no reason for anyone to be on a runway while a jet is landing.
This next news item was possibly the result of a significant amount of doobies. This California man went under a tanker truck full of wine … at highway speeds … to drink the wine … right from the tank … in his underwear. And best of all, there’s video …
Researchers have infiltrated gorilla society using a robot spy gorilla (good name for a band) and discovered it is definitely not high society. They found that gorillas sing while eating. But who cares? The more important discovery is that they also fart non-stop. Head directly to the 1 minute mark for the prolific tooting.
The narrator describes them living in a “semi-permanent state of flatulence.” Coincidentally, I think the name of the latest 3 Doors Down album is “Semi-Permanent State of Flatulence.”
I hope you watched to the end and caught the added bonus at the 1:30 mark when the gorilla eats boogers while farting. Sounds like a Sunday afternoon for me during football season.
Okay, that was fun. Wait, what’s that? Oh, right, the title was plural, promising “stories.” Here you go. It’s a gator story for you from the US South that promises to be tasty and provide a social distancing lesson.
I never want to find out that I have or had COVID-19 coronavirus, but am asymptomatic. I think that would only further fuel my delusions of immortality.
I saw this news piece from the AP about an aggressive chicken in Alabama attacking ATM users.
Then, I saw this report from UPI …
For my upcoming book of short stories (available later this year), I just finished the next-to-last story that included such grim topics as:
Oh, and I almost forgot … country music. *shudder*
And yet, my editor called it “sweet.” Do I need to get a new editor?
I think the only part of this COVID-19 coronavirus pandemic I will miss is the smell of hand sanitizer masking the evidence of my day-drinking.
A very learned, scholarly friend sent this to me.
I summarily dismissed it as a clever meme, but utter nonsense. And then I took a closer look at the numbers using ancient secrets of numerology. My eyes were opened.
First, I assigned numbers to M A G A according to their position in the alphabet.
This push to “liberate” states and reopen the US prematurely is ridiculous. This place doesn’t want to have to choose between libety or a tranny. Wait, what?
I think they may mean liberty and tyranny. At least this next guy knows he has rights, but unfortunately also some spelling wrongs. Continue reading
Our internet tends to be annoyingly spotty at times. As soon as this isolation is over, we’ll be changing internet providers. So, occasionally I must click on my computer to see what’s up with the internet connection. In the past, I’ve spotted the FBI with a van in the neighborhood.
Should that really be discoverable? Isn’t that a tip-off to criminals that the FBI may be coming, so flush the drugs? Not that I would know anything about that.
The other day I was again trying to see what’s up with the internet. This really got my attention.
I came upon this brand new sign at our local park, most likely as part of the COVID-19 coronavirus shutdown of all park equipment and features.
Somehow I think I’ll be able to comply. I’m going to put away my toboggan for the season. And that’s not a euphemism!
I love discounted pie (good name for a band, but perhaps a bit derivative considering Humble Pie). Despite the band name controversy, just bought one yesterday on the 15th that expires on the 17th.
Here are the Top 5 reasons I love discounted pie.
5) Pie is awesome. Duh!
4) Pie has been successfully used as part of a band name. See above.
3) Cherry pie > apple pie. Okay, I guess that has nothing to do with the discount, but I was short a reason.
2) The expiration date being so close encourages me to eat more pie quickly. That’s always a good idea.
1) 1/2 Price is almost 50% off!
I really think the police in Taneytown, Maryland are overstepping their bounds and infringing upon our rights with this Facebook post.
I reserve the right to handle my mail pantsless. Oh, that did not sound good when I read that last sentence to my wife.
I thought I was safe telling everyone to search for “parasitic twin” on Amazon when looking for my novella called My Parasitic Twin Wants to be President.
What could possibly go wrong? Well, this could …
Why Republicans support Trump has confounded me over the past 4 years. Seemingly intelligent family and friends blindly follow Trump regardless of what idiocy he spouts or does. It is truly bewildering. But I’ve finally solved the mystery, thanks to Facebook.
I noticed this Facebook challenge that one of my Facebook friends did.
That Facebook friend is a staunch Democrat, hence the blue D. Okay, I’ll admit it. 24 is not the correct answer. There are 18 triangles. How can I be sure? I used to be a math major in college, I’m an annoying smarty-pants, and in my spare time, I enjoy looking at brightly colored geometric shapes for hours on end. 18 is the correct answer.
Now take a look at how a loyal Republican answered.
We’re not rich, but it turns out my ancestors were. While my oldest daughter shelters-in- place, she delved further into our genealogy. She found my great great grandfather’s will from 1899. He appears to have come to the USA during the Irish Potato Famine (bad name for a band) and amassed a small fortune. His $4000 cash on hand would be worth about $125,000 today. And the real estate that he owned free and clear would be valued at about $600,000 today. And the real estate generated over $30,000 a year income for him in today’s dollars.
I never have cash on hand, although there may be loose change in the couch cushions. My real estate is valued about half of that, which I guess is okay since the bank owns most of it. My adult children living with me pay no rent. What happened?
Somewhere along the way, my family tree became diseased and never produced money again. I guess I am as much to blame as anyone. In my post yesterday, I vowed to donate all proceeds from my political novella. That is no way to get rich.
The long-dreaded novella is finally released. I have teased it on this blog before with excerpts. Despite all the warnings and pleadings from my psychiatrist, adviser, priest, therapist, mentor, rabbi, psychologist, consultant, minister, counselor, guru, internet stalker(s), pastor, life coach, wife and kids, I decided to publish anyway. Why would they protest? If the title doesn’t tip you off, maybe the book cover will.
You can purchase here … https://tinyurl.com/BuyTwinBook. Just 3 bucks! If you are outside the USA, try your local Amazon site and search for “parasitic twin.” All you need is an Amazon account. You can download this digital novella to your phone, computer, tablet, or Wang word processor.
ALL proceeds will be donated to worthy candidates and causes in advance of the 2020 election. In other words, Democrats. You will be donating over 2 bucks (our royalty from Amazon after Jeff Bezos takes his cut) to excellent causes.
For more background on Ray & Gary Czyzylck, visit www.elect-ray.webnode.com. If you want, you can email Ray at email@example.com or follow him on Twitter @czylzyck.
WARNING: This novella promises to be unlike anything you have ever read. Keep medical supplies close by when you read it just in case your sides split from laughing too hard.
Buy this book. Ray and Gary are waiting patiently. Come on. Stop reading and order. There are no more jokes in this post. Order now.
I have a brother-in-law who donated a kidney to his brother-in-law. Not sold. Not lent. Not rented by the hour. Donated. Free! He’s a good guy.
Now I hear that he gets blood platelets drawn every 2 weeks. I didn’t know that was even a thing. But the first thing that came to my mind was “How much does it pay?” Am I a bad guy? (#1)
For your information, he gets nothing for it. The difference between donating blood plasma and blood platelets is that red & white blood cells are retained by the donor when donating platelets only. Of course, my immediate thought was that donating complete plasma > donating blood platelets only. Am I a bad guy? (#2)
It turns out that my brother-in-law donates the platelets only because that allows him to donate more often, every 2 weeks. From the Red Cross website, I see that blood platelets can be donated every week. I wondered why my brother-in-law wasn’t donating more often. Am I a bad guy? (#3)
I guess I can cut my brother-in-law some slack since he only has one kidney. The bottom line is that he’s a great guy. I don’t even donate blood because … I’m diseased.
After a successful hike in the woods on Wednesday, I returned for a longer COVID-19 coronavirus therapy hike on a different trail yesterday. It was just me and Lola the dog yesterday. My daughter was too tired to hike after playing some backyard badminton. Is that possible, getting tired from casual badminton when you’re 11 years old?
On Wednesday, we may have stumbled upon our future forever home. If that doesn’t work out, Lola and I found a potentially less expensive, albeit smaller, place we could call home.
And then we discovered what I though could be the most important archaeological find of the 21st century to date. Dinosaur bones or maybe teeth? Take a look and decide what you see.
My wife and I are considering downsizing our home. She watches the home shows and elbows me in the ribs so I can see people buying dumps and flipping them into their forever homes. But for now, we still have 5 people living in the house. How can I encourage children to leave so we can downsize? Anyway, we are scouting out possible areas to relocate.
In order to keep what is left of my sanity during this COVID-19 coronavirus, I have taken to walking in the woods. I dragged our dog and youngest daughter along yesterday.
That’s our dog, not my daughter for those of you who are species-challenged. It was good to walk the hills and hear the frogs croaking in the wetlands. And then we stumbled upon what may be our future dream home that just needs a little flipping magic.
Some people were shocked that Trump rolled out the My Pillow guy, Mike Lindell, during the COVID-19 coronavirus press conference yesterday.
Not me. Let’s see, what is on the My Pillow guy’s resume?
Mike Lindell is perfect to stand with Trump. Both have been drug users, criminals, and continue to be grifters. Do not buy any My Pillow product.
What I was pleasantly surprised at was the unveiling of the new Abbott COVID-19 coronavirus test.
Abbott Labs has passed the test in this time of crisis. Thanks to Abbott for stepping-up. However, when Trump unveiled the new Abbott test, he failed miserably.
This Australian scientist, Dr. Daniel Reardon, tried to invent a device that keeps us from touching our faces during this coronavirus COVID-19 pandemic. His reward?
A visit to the hospital, magnets stuck in his nose, and a magnet down his throat. For full story details, Click HERE.
Here’s his hospital info upon discharge …
I think the last line is telling … Denies further magnets. I don’t blame him. He nose better now.
Healthcare workers and hospitals need masks. They are desperate for any masks to protect themselves and patients from the COVID-19 coronavirus. Fo NOT use this one though.
A dear friend sent me instructions on how to make my own masks from old cotton tee shirts. Seemed like too much work for me when my old cotton underwear could work just as well. First, I tried this look with a pair of boxers and a shoelace …
Despite a late start, it looks like the USA is #1 once again. Yay?
I saw this news article yesterday.
Click HERE for full story.
My initial thought upon reading that there are such things as Pablo Escobar’s Cocaine Hippos … GREAT NAME FOR A BAND! Can you imagine that PELIGRO text with the hippo on the bass drum? I want to see that band … NOW!
What is somewhat overshadowed in the title and story is that there were once giant llamas. Not as good a name for a band, but I want to see them, too. Not the band, the real thing.
I was going to start 2020 with the Top 10 List in this post below. And then I thought, “No, let’s not start 2020 with a classless post. Let’s stay classy and have a great 2020.” Well, you know that’s a pipe dream now with the COVID-19 coronavirus crashing our 2020 party. I’m currently eating corn on the cob for breakfast so we have cobs available for when we run out of toilet paper, and I’ll soon head out to collect filth for our dinner tonight.
And what do watch as we eat another filth casserole for dinner? Netflix is so strained that all we can get to stream without constant buffering is a documentary on the Republicans race to the White House in 2008. You know what that means? You betcha’ … more Sarah Palin.
So, it has come to this. The Top 10 list I didn’t want to use in 2020 follows. Sorry.
Well, the big Book Release Party for the book that has my short story in it has been postponed due to the COVID-19 coronavirus. I am somewhat relieved that I don’t have to be in a social situation with other nerdy writers. Being with myself all the time is bad enough. The book is being released online initially through the publisher’s website at Crow Woods Publishing, and eventually through Amazon, etc. Here’s a mention of my story from the publisher.
I find it so fitting that there is a misspelling in the description. And just a touch of humor? Maybe it would have been funnier if the publisher hadn’t removed a joke.
Anyway, here’s the pic that inspired my story …
If you are interested in an unabridged version of my story with all jokes intact, contact me.
Details coming about more Flanigan Fiction due for release soon. Consider yourself warned.
I was unsure of whether I would be able to walk again, let alone feed, bathe, or clothe myself. That’s right, I recently had a sore, swollen knee. Spare me your pity, but monetary contributions are always welcome. It was only through sheer will, grit, determination, and my wife’s nagging that I found I could walk again, if you can call what I do walking. And it was my dog, yes, my dog, that got me to use my treadmill again.
It’s a great treadmill that was sitting idle while I writhed in pain as I ate ice cream and my family urged me to “get off my fat ass and do something for God’s sake” or some encouraging words to that effect. Even the treadmill taunted me regarding my potentially burgeoning weight without activity.
But it wasn’t my family’s “encouragement” that got me to use the treadmill again. It was my faithful dog and her chunky vomit that got me to use the treadmill again. I’ll explain.
I took a drive yesterday for business purposes. I headed west to a town called Mendota in north central Illinois. Mendota is not a particularly pretty town, or maybe it was just the rainy day that made it appear a bit bleak and rundown. But it looked like any other town in any part of the Rust Belt in the USA. And it was comforting.
First, the COVID-19 coronavirus had not started infecting people in the area yet. I still took extreme precautions as I was out and about. It wasn’t a good business call. My appointment hated the product I presented.
While out, I carefully explored some stores out west. I found toilet paper in Mendota. 2 pack limit, but plenty on the shelf. I remember that time in America when clean butts were a given. As I headed home, I stopped in Earlville and found ramen noodles on a store shelf. Amazing discovery. Another nostalgic blast from America’s past. I grabbed some and arrived home to be hailed as a returning hero with a bounty of both toilet paper and ramen.
As I got back into my town, I stopped at a local store for some frozen veggies to throw in with the ramen I had scored. But first I peeked. Still no toilet paper. No ramen noodles. But worse, no frozen veggies except for …. brussel sprouts. Ew. I grudgingly purchased the last bag in the freezer.
I felt some guilt as I made ramen noodles last night. Perhaps I should save them for possible grimmer times ahead. I have no return trips to Mendota or Earlville planned, thankfully. I did discover that brussel sprouts are palatable in small doses. I enjoyed that bowl of ramen noodles. It reminded me of an America I once knew.
I know one of the symptoms of the COVID-19 coronavirus is a dry cough. These days, whenever I cough, I celebrate if I can hear, feel, or see phlegm as a result of the cough. So far, so good.
As for this woman …
She needs to be tested. I hope she’s not in the USA. Lotsa luck getting tested if she is.
I’m desperately trying to lose weight during this COVID-19 coronavirus crisis. It’s not so much about conserving our family’s precious food supplies. It’s more about becoming a less attractive target for when the cannibalism begins.
Almost all sporting events have been canceled. I guess that’s one way to cure my sports gambling addiction. Wanna bet on that?
I hear that the Olympics may also be canceled. I think that may be smart, and it opens up a unique opportunity for all of us to make our own Olympics. I love watching the explosiveness of the 100 meter dash. So why not participate?
Maybe add some hurdles in to exemplify the hurdles and obstacles we encounter in life, like the COVID-19 coronavirus.
Perhaps you favor the distance races.
I’m starting to think that choosing raw tuna sushi as my stock-up food during the COVID-19 coronavirus crisis was a bad decision.
Schools are closed. Bars and restaurants are supposed to close at the end of business today. Hey, what about restaurants that are open 24/7? Do they have to abide by the ban if they don’t close today? Food and paper products are in short supply. I know my family is debating if they should eat me now while I am still fat in order to conserve the rest of the food in the house.
I took matters into my own hands last night at 10PM as I went out to feed. Just to clarify, I pretty much self-quarrantine every winter after dark. Last night I felt like I had been turned into a coronavirus zombie, going out after dark to feed when there would be no lines. Oops, I was an hour early. It turns out that many others had the same idea around 10PM. I kept to myself, huddled in a fetal position on a barren shelf in the canned vegetable aisle next to a solitary can of okra until the crowd cleared a bit by 11PM.
This is one of the first sights that greeted me when I walked in …
Now that we are in the grip of the coronavirus, I find myself starting to hoard food and toilet paper from my family.
Am I a bad guy?
I pushed an old lady out of the way today so I could buy the last package of toilet paper left on the shelf due to the coronavirus panic-buying with the money I took from the Children’s Cancer contribution container on the way in. But it’s all good because as Trump says, “I don’t take responsibility at all.”
Well, this was a lovely, mish-mash of a jumbled post. But you get the picture. Donald Trump will always take full credit for anything good that happens, but never take any blame or responsibility for anything bad. Ever.