Archive for December 2012
I think today will be designated as “OMG I’m So Effing Bored Day”. I have an industrial strength case of the blah’s and a total lack of interest in just about everything. Since this blog has been officially christened “Every Useless Thing”, I should build on that. There are times when mind-numbing bullshit is necessary to help clear away the cob webs, to give me the ability to turn off the freaking cell phone, to stay at home away from the world, and chill.
Did you know that:
“PNEUMONOULTRAMICROSCOPICSILICOVOLCANOCONIOSIS”
is the longest technical word in the English language, according to the Oxford English Dictionary. It is a type of lung disease. If that little tidbit of BS doesn’t set off your snooze alarm then there’s something wrong and you need to seek professional help.
Try this one:
Showers account for 32% of home water usage.
Someone who feels much as I do today took time out of his boring ass life to do that research. Are you properly impressed, I doubt it.
Here’s another:
People who collect Teddy Bears are archtophilists.
Or this:
In ballet, a male dancer is called a danseur.
That’s real shocking piece of useless trivia. What the hell else would they be called. Are you snoring yet? Give me a few more minutes. Try this one on for size:
The small intestine is longer than the large intestine.
It only gets worse from here:
When humans are at rest, 15% of their blood is in their brains.
The lesson learned from that fact is that no matter what men tell you, this is the truth of things. Let’s continue.
Sexual intercourse between chimpanzees lasts, on average, 3 seconds.
And you ladies out there thought your high school boyfriends were bad. It just goes to show the dumber you are the quicker you succumb. I could continue on like this for hours but as I said earlier I’m effing bored today so I’ll do one more then stop.
In the State of Arizona it’s illegal to keep more than 2 dildo’s in your house.
Reason number 355 why you don’t ever want to live there. Well, this has been a barrel of laughs but I’m done. Tomorrow’s is definitely another day.
The Maryland trip is now a thing of the past. We returned home last night after eight and a half wonderful hours in the car. As predicted my better-half was hung over and slept a great deal of the time. No Christmas carol singing, no annoying driving tips, and no blaring music. It was absolute heaven.
But have no fear, it wasn’t all good. Let me take you on a trip back to fifteenth century France. In those days the citizenry were permitted to use the roads in the country only with the King’s blessing. Every so often while traveling through the country side they might be ambushed by groups of highwaymen who took their money and jewels and disappeared into the woods. If they were wealthy they might have hired extra security to ride along with them for protection from such ruffians. It was a primitive system but it worked well for the rich. In those days the poor were lucky to have a two wheeled cart to get around on. It was mostly on foot since the cost to travel couldn’t be afforded by the great unwashed.
Aren’t we lucky to live in this century with all of our modern technologies to make our lives so much better than those poor schmucks from the past? We don’t have highwaymen to worry about because we now have toll booths. It’s not just the King’s men reaching out of those booths but every petty little dictatorship along the way takes their share as well. The Kings of Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Maine have now made it even more painful to have our money stolen. Thievery thy name is “Easy Pass”. Now the highwaymen have made it possible to take our money and never having to dirty their hands by touching it.
My trip consisted of just over a thousand miles round-trip. I won’t even get into gas prices and the taxes they’ve been loaded up with. My grand total of tolls to make that trip to visit family was just under one hundred dollars. The most “in your face” toll goes to who else but New York. Thirteen freaking dollars to ride over a fucking bridge. Pardon the bad language but only an F-bomb aptly describes how I felt handing over that money. Let’s make it easy for you math whizzes, 1000 mile trip with $100.00 in tolls. I find it incredible that I’m being strong-armed into paying ten cents an effing mile to travel on roads I’ve already paid my hard earned taxes to build and maintain. Then they have the nerve at every Rest Area to try and sell me an Easy Pass transponder. I guess they feel if we don’t actually have to take it out of our wallet and hand it directly to a toll taker it won’t hurt quite so much. Wrong again geniuses.
I hear a lot of people talking about secession and revolution these days and I’m beginning to understand why. It seems that this country has started down a really ugly road. Just remember that “Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it." The younger generations have been educated to hate this country and to ignore it’s history. Here’s something they can’t ignore, “Taxation without representation is tyranny.” It was a slogan of our past revolutionary fight and could be again if we’re not careful.
The cherry on top of the trip occurred at a McDonalds rest stop at the New York/Connecticut border. I was starving and needed gas so we stopped for a quick break. In my younger days my perfect woman would have been one who was attractive, worked at a fast food chain (free food), and smelled like greasy hamburgers and french fries. I’m here to tell you those days are officially over. The girl at the register and the entire facility fulfilled all of my past fantasies and then some. I arrived home a few hours later and had to take a long shower to get the smell of grease off my body. Of course this morning I could still taste that greasy hamburger and had the heart burn to prove it and it was steal at seven bucks. Another New York bargain.
It was a fun weekend for us both if we can forget the travel there and back. I’m sooooo glad to be home.
Our whirlwind weekend is just about over and hopefully we’ll be on the road back to Maine in an hour or so. Luckily I bailed out on the party early so I would be rested for the drive back. I suspect my drive back will be much quieter than the ride down. My better-half will be recuperating from last nite for at least two or three hours.
It was all-in-all a fun weekend and a great way to kick off the rest of the holidays. Now it’s back to Maine and some good old winter weather. It was close to sixty degrees yesterday and that just isn’t right. I need a little frost on my pumpkin in the second week of December.
Back to normal blogging tomorrow once we get this drive out of the way.
I thought I’d try a quick posting from my IPad this morning. Our trip to Maryland was uneventful and the weather was moderately crappy. Rain, fog, and accident delays were the norm and I’m here to tell that a trip south on the Garden State Parkway leaves a lot to be desired.
Being in New York and New Jersey gives a whole new meaning to people watching. Normally I dislike stopping too often but I’m willing to make an exception here. Just stop, have a coffee, and observe. It could easily become a full time job.
Well, I need to get moving this morning to prepare for the evenings festivities. I’m already ahead of the game today because I find myself hangover free. Who knew that would happen. A few low octane margaritas are a good way to go where you can have that little taste of tequila without the normal devastating consequences.
Tonight should be interesting since my better-half purchased for me a bright red Christmas T-shirt I’m expected to wear. I only like making an ass of myself if I’m properly inebriated so I’ll have to work on that I suppose. Enjoy the rest of your weekend because the Christmas countdown continues unabated
I’ve spent a few Christmases away from home while in the Army and unless you’ve experienced it personally, it can be a real heart breaker. This year we have more of our men and women overseas than ever and they have our sincerest thanks and sympathies. It’s a tough job to serve and the separation from family and friends makes it even tougher. I was sent this poem a few years ago and it’s still a good read. If I remember correctly the author, Mr. Jones, was on active duty when it was written. It still poignant and will help us all “Remember the Troops”.
They Won’t Be Home For Christmas
– by Del “Abe” Jones
Another year, American Heroes
Are fighting in a foreign land
But hopefully, with an end in sight
To this part of life they hadn’t planned.
They do their duty without question
And they all stand proud and tall
They are placed there in harm’s way
As they answer, our Country’s call.
They’ll get by the best they can
And improvise ingenious ways
To find a way to celebrate
The meaning of the Holidays.
Peace on Earth, good will towards men
Is really, kinda hard to do
When all around, there are folks
Whose only wish, is to kill you.
There are far too many families
Who will never again know the joy
That the Christmastime can bring
And cruel, wartime can destroy.
The lucky will return back home
But lives will never be the same
Forever changed in heart and mind
By humankind’s unholy game.
They won’t be home for Christmas
And sadly, some will never be
But all of them will share one thing
That’s the war Hero’s legacy.
So as you gather ’round the tree
With your loved ones by your side
Think about those, over there?
While you enjoy, your Yuletide.
Well, today’s the big day. We’ll be on the road to Maryland in just a few minutes. I’ll be posting today and tomorrows entries now since I won’t be able to blog while traveling. I certainly hope that I’m able to do so after my arrival in Maryland and I may finally get a chance to blog with the new IPad. This holiday visit coupled with my better-half’s Mom’s birthday bash will surely jump start the Christmas season for us both.
I’m patiently awaiting the arrival of our house sitters and their dogs. A few further instructions and the house is theirs for a few days. I only hope their dogs don’t piss off my cat too much or he’ll be hell to live with when we return. He not real good about change especially when dogs are involved.
The weather reports are looking good for the trip and the likelihood of snow is slim. I’m also taking a new route to avoid New York City altogether. That will mean more actual driving and less time sitting in those NYC perennial traffic jams.
We should arrive back home late Sunday nite, knock on wood. Have a great weekend and the countdown to Christmas is now eighteen.
As young children our parents made every attempt to make Christmas memorable for my sister and me. When my sister was very young and I was almost six I still firmly believed the tales of Santa and his elves and all that good stuff. But in the back of my young mind I secretly was beginning to have doubts. A lot of what I was being told by the family wasn’t what I was hearing on the street (at school). My friends had almost convinced me that Santa was BS and that my parents were actually the gift givers.
My folks apparently began to suspect I was wavering and that their propaganda was falling on deaf ears. In a conspiracy involving my mother’s sister, Anna Mae, they decided drastic action was needed. I’d been acting out a bit and being a little disrespectful so it was time for Santa to straighten me out.
It was about a week before Christmas and we were visiting at my grandparents home and as usual I was a being a huge pain in the ass like most six year olds. It was just after dark and I was walking through the house to the kitchen. As I passed the window in the hall I glanced over and almost crapped my pants. Santa was standing outside and looking right at me and smiling. I ran upstairs and hid under the bed and refused to come out until the coast was clear. My parents let me know in no uncertain terms that Santa was looking for those children who weren’t being good.
I cleaned up my act fast and became their little angel again. I have to admit I was a little shaky after dark and afraid to look out the windows for quite a while. Santa the terrorist had accomplished his mission. I saw him on two or three other occasions during the next two years, once at our home, and again in the cellar of my grandparents house but unfortunately I was already a confirmed non-believer. I went along with the charade for my sister’s sake and to avoid a smack on the ass if I told her the truth. By then I knew my parents were the ones I needed to suck up to and I did it in grand fashion.
Many years later while I was digging through a trunk in my aunts bedroom I discovered where Santa had been hiding. His retirement consisted of being hidden under a pile of sheets and pillow cases in that old trunk. My aunt laughed like crazy when I confronted her and we both enjoyed the moment very much.
What I never told her or my parents was the lingering collateral damage from their actions. To this day during the Christmas season I’m careful in dark rooms and try never to look out the windows. In the mall or in stores where Santa is holding court, I stay the hell away. That guy still scares the bejesus out of me.
We’re getting down to the wire with all of the preparations for our trip. Now that we’re ready to go I just want to get going. I’ve always been a huge pain in the butt as so many family members have told me because I tend get a bit impatient and it makes me make them crazy.
I’m wrapping the last of the gifts for my family members because I’d like to get them into the mail as soon as I can. I don’t like waiting too long because my faith in the US Postal Service isn’t what it once was.
There’s one thing that I do every year which makes a great gift for a few lucky family members. I started doing it three years ago and it might be something you’d like to try. I’ve been ordering customized postage stamps through stamps.com. You upload a photograph which they then print as stamps. It’s pretty cool, really easy to do, and everyone seems to love them. I’m not doing a promo or anything for them but I think it might be worth a quick look.
Today was a first for me. I went shopping for baby clothes. OMG who knew there were so many choices. It was only recently I discovered what a onesy is. Who knew? It also appears that infants grow faster than the clothes you initially bought for them. My better-half purchased a few outfits just after the grandson was born and he’s already out grown them and they’ve never been worn. His parents have been hinting about having another child within a year or two which makes regifting a real possibility. I’ll just have to cross my fingers and hope they have another son and that the outfits we purchased haven’t gone out of style.
I just was thinking how much fun playing with, talking about, and buying clothes for babies can be when they’re not yours. There’s a lot to be said for being a step-grandparent and being able to send them home with their parents after each visit. I suspect that will change in the near future when we become the get-away spot for him when he gets pissed at his parents or vice versa. Can’t wait. My grand mother was that person for me when I was growing up so I can appreciate every little kid having a place to go for some hugs and kisses and no scolding.
Back at the computer early today since I’ve many errands to run in anticipation of our journey to the great state of Maryland. I need the car serviced and a good washing and vacuuming wouldn’t hurt much either. I have to check in with the house sitters too and make sure they arrive on time.
I thought I’d give you an quick update on “the car in the woods” incident I mentioned yesterday. I ran across across the road and found the car about fifteen feet into the trees and wedged between two of them. It appeared the driver was crossing a sheet of ice when his passenger side tire slid off onto the berm. As many people do he overcorrected to regain control, spun around and shot right back into the woods. He was uninjured but really pissed off about the whole situation. Damage to the car appeared minimal but he removed a few large pieces of bark from a tree or two with his side doors. He was really lucky not to have been injured but he sure didn’t see it that way.
My better-half and I finished decorating the house with her Christmas knick-knacks and paddy-wacks on every surface of every piece of furniture. The tree looks nice after an hour or two of attempting to get the freaking lights operational. Last year we decided to change over to the old, large, multicolor retro style lights. They look absolutely gorgeous but I’d be afraid to use them on a live tree. They throw off so much heat they’d dry a live tree out in no time. Fortunately were went artificial on the tree a few years back.
Christmas fever has consumed my better-half and she insists on taking me along for the ride. As we were decorating I was strong-armed into watching five straight hours of Christmas movies. Argggg! Who needs waterboarding? Sheer effing torture while she dances around the living room singing along with every tune. I hope she purchased that noise cancelling headset I asked her for. It’ll get more use than my car.
Well, I’m off to do my errands and maybe take a few photos along the way. Twenty-one days and counting.
I seem to be stuck in an after Thanksgiving holiday slow-motion this morning. As previously predicted I spent most of yesterday decorating the tree and being a somewhat silent helper to my better-half’s decorating efforts. Drink some wine, nob my head yes, drink some more wine, and nod my head yes again. It’s a tough job but someone has to do it. Most of my opinions are those head nods but I’ll stand up and be heard if she does sometime totally tasteless. Of course that never ever happens, honest. I have the blah’s today but this seems to occur every year around this time. I’ll eventually get a little excited about the holidays, but not too much. Christmas ceased being my favorite holiday the first year I got mostly clothes for gifts. It hasn’t felt the same since.
Growing up my folks weren’t well off and money was always an issue but regardless the gifts for us kids were always cool. My first double holstered cap pistols, my first grown up bicycle, and my first chemistry set. One year my Mom painted my bedroom walls with planets and rocket ships because she knew way back then I was destined to be a science-fiction nerd. Just so you know, she was right, I still am. A few years later I got an honest to God set of paints and brushes and made my first Christmas cards. They were highly praised by all of my overly kind and biased relatives. Just so you know, hundreds of paintings, sculptures, collages, and sketches later, I’m still a happily and struggling artist.
It feels awfully good to reminisce and it helps put things back into their proper perspective as Christmas approaches. I’d like to chat further but I just heard a very loud crash from outside. It appears some NASCAR wannabe hit a sheet of ice on the road and is now sitting quietly in his car sitting in the woods across the road from my house. He appears uninjured but I’d better check. HO! HO! HO!
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