Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category
I’m still on my first cup of coffee this morning. I’ve been awake for an hour and only left my bed once. I’m relaxing and preparing for my day which I hope will remain calm and restful. I’m trying to decide what I’ll be doing with my unexpected few days of vacation I’m on. Anyone who is in a lengthy relationship knows that any day your spouse or partner is away doing something is a free vacation (mental health) day. We certainly never tell them that’s how we feel but facts are facts.
My better-half has once again volunteered to help out her daughter and son-in-law by babysitting their children for three days while they’re on vacation in Los Angeles. I volunteered to stay at our home while she travels to their residence to be with the kids. She’ll be staying there until the weekend and it’s my job to arrive in a timely fashion with takeout meals and moral support. That’s the kind of job I really like. For a change I’m able to avoid a total commitment of my time and energy to others and to enjoy my alone time Hooray for me.
I get to spend my day working on a painting I started a few days ago for which I need real peace and quiet to do. I hope to make serious progress over the next three days while listening to music that soothes me instead of hurting my ears. It could be as close to heaven as I can get these days and I intend to make the most of it. It will end soon enough.
My biggest chore for today is to decide what food I need to buy for their dinner and when to deliver it to her and the kids. I suspect she’ll be damn glad to see me after chasing the two toddlers, two dogs, and two cats around the house for half a day. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy but she seems to love it. I’d better remember to throw a couple of cold beers into the food bag as well. It’ll be just like tossing a life vest to a drowning man.
Well, I’d like to keep writing but my stomach is rumbling and wants to be fed. I’ll make us a delicious breakfast, drink another cup of excellent coffee, and count my blessings once again. I can picture in my head my better-half, the two little boys, two dogs, and two cats all snuggled together in bed for the next two nights. I can’t help but smile a little and when no ones around to hear I can laugh my ass off.
Special Note to Self: Be sure to give her a thorough flea and tick inspection upon her return. We don’t need any tiny livestock catching a ride to our house.
WHO DOESN’T LOVE VACATION DAYS
In my last post I took you on a tour of Old Orchard Beach, Maine. You got to see the beaches full of people, a friendly bar to hangout in, and a cute bikini clad girl buried in sand. I hope you didn’t think that covered our entire visit because there was much more to it. Today I’ll take you along on our continuing tour that includes my better-half’s favorite spot. Welcome to the Amusement Park.
Doesn’t look like much from the outside but . . .
The Arcade while not my favorite place is always interesting. Tourists from just about anywhere flock to this place to throw their money away or to just drop off their kids for a few hours. Where else can you win tickets for doing just about anything and at the end of your day you’d have spent forty bucks to win enough tickets to buy a pack of gum. My better-half is for some reason a Skee Ball addict. She insists on throwing her money away, winning a fistful of tickets, that she ends up giving to some kid who happens to be standing around picking his nose. It’s always puzzled me and I fear it will continue to do so.
Who can resist all of this fine looking merchandise?
Never let it be said that I’m immune to the attractions of this park. I was once again drawn to a booth where I was permitted to spend five bucks to throw two tiny bean bags at some under inflated balloons. Being a former Little League baseball player I was stunned when I actually broke two of those stupid balloons and won my honey this glorious and somewhat ridiculous prize.
Who doesn’t love a cuddly little frog?
Once again I became a willing victim of all the hype that’s constantly spewed by this park. It seems to happen every time I visit here and stranger still, I don’t mind at all.
I’m so excited by all the hubbub in an amusement park I actually feel kind of bad that I’m not permitted to ride these stupid rides. As a young kid I was too short to ride them and now all these years later I’m too tall and plump to fit in them. There’s just no justice in this world.
FORTUNATELY . . . IT’S ALL GOOD FUN!
OUR SUMMER CONTINUES!
I am not now or ever have been considered a religious person. I’ve read as much information as I could find on almost every major religion over the years. It was my vain attempt to convince myself one way or the other that such a thing was necessary in my life. I accomplished my goal but it left me with volumes of information on religions both interesting and some not so much. Today I’ll post some strange but true religious trivia and you can do with it what you will.
- The temple of all faiths: Birla Temple in New Delhi, India, includes separate areas for worship for every known religion.
- It was not until the fourth century that the church (Christianity) began to celebrate the feast of Christmas.
- The first Bible printed in America in 1663 was a translation into the Algonkian language.
- The word “and” appears 46,277 times in the King James version of the Bible.
- Hijmar, a holy man of Benares, India, held his left arm in the same position for 12 years.
- The first book digest: Dubash Meghji, of Zanzibar., ate one page of the Koran each day for thirty years.
- Each year Shia Muslims in Ahmadabad, India, mourn the death of Imam Husain, a descendant of the prophet Mohammad, by whipping themselves with knife-tipped chains.
- In 1993, Israel’s telephone company offered a service for people to fax messages to God, to be placed in the Jerusalem’s Wailing Wall.
- Forty nuns at a convent in Stetyl, the Netherlands, have maintained a continuous prayer in their chapel for ninety-eight years.
- The people who worship a nail: The Maria Gonds of Chandra, India, pray only to a 12 inch spike.
- In 1685 a church bell from a Protestant chapel in France was whipped and burned after being charged with “inflaming the hearts of heretics”.
- Prayer stones addressed to Egyptian god Ra and sold to worshippers in Ancient Egypt had large ears engraved on them – so Ra would be sure to hear their messages.
- In 1992 a historic church in Melle, France, installed a juke box that plays Gregorian chants, Tibetan mantras, and Jewish liturgical music.
And last but not least:
- Ancient Egyptian priests in 450 b.c. trained baboons to sweep out their temples.
CAN I GET AN AMEN?
With the better-half’s vacation coming to an end I can see the light at the end of the honey-do list tunnel. It’s been a great week for use both and to prove it I’m posting a number of miscellaneous photos taken in odd places at odd times. People may call these locations flea markets yard sales or garage sales but let me be a bit more accurate. It’s more like junk yards, piles of crap, or just plain garbage. I know I’m being a little harsh but OMG.
Just what every summer tourist needs . . . snow shoes.
Then who doesn’t need dishes and glassware at a quarter a piece?
I’ve held two garage sales in my life and I know how I prepared for the shopping public. I unloaded every piece of crap I could find onto tables, priced them for under a dollar, smiled a lot, lowered the prices when necessary, and at the end of the day I made a hundred dollars or so. Who knew my crap was so in demand.
Does this look familiar to you?
How about this.
I’m not a shopaholic like my better-half and thank god for that. I can only handle visiting a few of these places before I start to get a little crazy. It makes me itch all over with imaginary bugs and the smell at times is godawful.
Does anyone out there really need a POS boat. NO! How about a bunch of nasty looking lobster traps?
P. T. Barnum had it right all along. As far as suckers go, “There’s one born every minute.
SO TRUE . . . SO TRUE
I think I may be getting a little bit spoiled but trust me . . . I won’t tell that to anyone but you. I never thought I’d live to see the day when I’d be considered spoiled but I have and it arrived yesterday.
My better-half is on vacation this week and we’ve been going and doing anything we want and enjoying it immensely. Yesterday was an almost perfect day. It was in the low eighties, sunny, and not a cloud in the sky. We decided to take a short day trip into New Hampshire to shop for antiques and to just relax and roam around for a few hours. Sounds pretty good right? Then why was I complaining almost the entire time? Why, because I’m spoiled.
After getting home last night I sat on the deck and tried to figure out what my problem might be. I spent a great deal of time whining and complaining about New Hampshire and those endlessly boring forests, lakes, and those beautiful White Mountains. I complained about having to drive twenty miles along dozens of lakes and streams and be forced to see all of this damn beautiful scenery. I also moaned and groaned after traveling through the countryside for an hour about that one car that was tailgating me or the one truck that was in front of me going only twenty miles an hour. Truthfully they were the only other cars on the road at that time. I was also upset that I had to drive by all of those cool little campgrounds and small beaches where I was forced once again to ogle a few well tanned and bikini clad lovelies enjoying their day. Am I going insane of just horribly spoiled?
As we drove home back into Maine I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I could stop bitching about New Hampshire and return to my normal everyday bitching about Maine. More damn forests, more lakes, more good weather, and more of those damn beautiful vistas. Why me? What did I do in a previous life that I deserved all of these wonderful things.
I don’t know for sure but I’m working on it.
Well, another holiday has come and gone. Overall it was a great weekend for us here in Maine. I do realize there are problems in many parts of this country where patriotism is now frowned upon for fear of alienating all of the aliens, both legal and more likely illegal. I recently read an article where a student was sent home from school because he wore a pro-America t- shirt. If that was my son I could easily been persuaded to some sort of violence and rightly so. I realize it’s chic and liberal to trash the United States at every turn but if nothing else it’s disrespectful as hell. It disrespects every person wearing the countries uniform and I suspect it’s mostly done by people who’ve never served.
Also shame on those of you in the academic ranks who insist on turning this country into a liberal, politically correct, and impotent world power by brainwashing our children with liberal claptrap (that’s right . . . I said claptrap.). Shame on you all.
Now that I have that rant off my chest let me continue. My better-half and I did a little traveling around our state over the weekend and I couldn’t have been prouder. It seems that the people of Maine may distrust our politicians (as they should) but still love their country. We must have seen five hundred or more flags flying from buildings, businesses, and homes.
In the town of Sebago, Maine which covers a rather large area, every telephone pole that we saw for miles was flying the colors. So to all of you America haters across the country how about finding the closest airport, get on the fastest plane you can find and GET THE HELL OUT (call me if you need a ride to the airport).
HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA
It’s another day in paradise here in Maine as I drag my butt out of bed this morning. Time to leap to my feet, put on my shorts, and go jogging for a few miles. If you believe that then there’s something really wrong. The only jogging I’ll do is with my car. I’ll be spending my time today sitting in front of this computer and working on my series of designs that have consumed me for a month.
Yes, I consider myself an artist even though a few others might dispute that. What others think has never really been something I concern myself with and I doubt I ever will. If you’re around long enough you learn early on that everyone is an effing critic. I love critics and on occasion I’m one myself. It’s the anonymous and cowardly ones that irritate me.
I’ve been reading a strange book of “Poisonous Quotations” and that anonymous guy sure has a lot to say in that tome. Here are a few samples of his anonymous work.
“Modern art is like trying to follow the plot in alphabet soup.”
“Modern art is when you buy a picture to cover a hole in the wall and then decide the hole looks better.”
“A modern artist is one who throws paint on a canvas, wipes it off with a cloth, and sells the cloth.”
“One reassuring thing about modern art is that things can’t possibly be as bad as they are painted.”
Those four quotation are cowardly since the authors were afraid to identify themselves. I don’t mind criticism if the individual will stand up in front of the artist and offer his opinions directly. Here are a few well known people who also have an apparent distaste for art but aren’t afraid to say so publicly.
“Abstract art is the product of the untalented, sold by the unprincipled to the utterly bewildered.” Al Capp
‘One sees a square lady with three breasts and a guitar up her crotch.” Noel Coward
“Art is a jealous mistress.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
“Art is either plagiarism or revolution.” Paul Gauguin
“Art for art’s sake makes no more sense than gin for gin’s sake.” W. Somerset Maugham
“I’m glad the old masters are all dead, and I only wish they had died sooner.” Mark Twain
Lets hear from someone once very well known in the political world. Like any politician he takes forth-three words to say two . . . “It stinks.”
“I can truthfully say that the painter has observed the Ten Commandments. Because he hath not made to himself the likeness of anything in heaven above, or that which is on earth beneath, or that which is in the water under the earth.” Abraham Lincoln
And last but not least here is someone who answered his critics directly and clearly. My second favorite favorite artist of all time right behind Salvador Dali as seen above.
“Everyone wants to understand painting. Why don’t they try to understand the singing of the birds? People love the night, a flower, everything which surrounds them without trying to understand them. But painting – that they must understand.” Pablo Picasso
WELL STATED PABLO
In the past I’ve posted lists of things I love and hate. Most of them were done to be humorous or at least tongue-in-cheek. Today I thought it might be nice to list just ten things I really love. I tried to do it seriously without attempts at humor but it’s difficult. These are in no particular order except for the first item which if it showed up lower on the list I’d be a dead man.
- My Better-half (Always first or else.)
- My Stupid Cat (He wanted to be #1 . . . Sorry!)
- Peace & Quiet
- My Mental Strength
- Losing myself for hours while creating anything. (Quality Time)
- Sleeping Naked (Best thing since potato chips were invented.)
- A Really Good Margarita (Or a Mojito)
- Growing Anything
- Eating soup
- A really dirty joke or limerick.**
** I need to offer up some samples of this item or I just wouldn’t feel right about things. These limericks and jokes are “R” rated so if you’re offended by that kind of humor stop reading now.
Limerick #1
There was a woman named Lucille
who tried a dynamite stick for a thrill
they found her vagina in North Carolina
and bits of her tits in Brazil.
Limerick #2
There was a young man from Brighton
Who thought he’d at last found a tight ‘un.
He said, "Oh my love,
It fits like a glove."
Said she, "But you’re not in the right ‘un."
Limerick #3
A gay young man from Khartoum,
took a lesbian up to his room.
They argued all night,
as to who had the right
to do what, with which and to whom.
Joke #1
A man and a woman started to have sex in the middle of a dark forest. After about 15 minutes of it, the man finally gets up and says, "Damn, I wish I had a flashlight!". The woman says, "Me too, you’ve been eating grass for the past ten minutes!"
Joke #2
The scene, a newly wed couple on the first night of their honeymoon just before the passionate lovemaking was to begin. The wife tells her husband, "Please be gentle, I’m still a virgin." The husband being shocked, replied, "How’s that even possible? You’ve been married three times before." The wife responds, "Well, my first husband was a gynecologist and all he wanted to do was look at it. My second husband was a psychiatrist and all he wanted to do was talk about it. Finally, my third husband was a stamp collector and all he wanted to do was…oh, do I ever miss him!"
So much for my lame attempt at a little dirty humor. I just felt the need to be off-color this morning. I wonder why?
ENJOY YOUR DAY
‘Honey, I think we missed the turn to Home Goods.’
Well, it’s the first of June and I suppose this could be considered my first real Summer day. Unfortunately for me it’s not starting very well. Last night I was advised by my better-half that we’d be spending her day-off on another of her infamous shopping safaris. Those shopping trips are bearable in the winter when you just want to get out of the house but not so much in Summer when it’s sunny and warm and you can hear the beach calling your name.
I can’t believe in all honesty that I’ll enjoy a day of driving from store to store and waiting in the car. Most of the stores she visits hold no interest for me and I’m truly honored to be permitted to sit in her car and wait for her. I feel a lot like the natives on many of the early Tarzan movies. The great white hunter is strolling along carrying his rifle and a flask of brandy. I’m the last guy in line carrying the 300 pound backpack and silently cursing under my breath.
She packs a purse and a credit card while I usually bring my favorite safari equipment. It consists of my cell phone so I can call for help if necessary, my Kindle to keep me from screaming out of boredom, and this IPad so I can write my posts for the blog about how used and abused I feel.
This is is some sort of weird ass-backward payback for my taking her out to dinner last night. We visited a restaurant called Running of the Mill. It’s a nineteenth century textile mill that has been slowly converted into hundreds of condos, a restaurant, business offices, and an interior mall which is still in the planning stages. It’s directly adjacent to the Saco River and the nearby harbor. It’s very nice.
We had our meal on the terrace and enjoyed the sunshine and the warm breeze. The better-half ordered a slab of haddock as long as her arm and I enjoyed a huge club sandwich and fries.
It was a really relaxing evening and we thoroughly enjoyed the food and the atmosphere. Why she’s paying me back with this shopping foray today is beyond me. She probably thinks she’s doing a favor.
Right now I’m sitting in a Lowe’s parking lot while she spends an hour doing work schedules for her employees. Little does she know that in mere moments I’ll be reclining this seat back and catching a well deserved nap.
AT LEAST SHE LEFT THE WINDOW CRACKED
As summer looms in my future I’ve been attempting to close out some existing projects to make room for what’s to come. My infusion of hot peppers in tequila has finally ended with the hot peppers almost bleached white as you can see. I took a small sample and gave it a taste test and was very very hot. I can’t wait to give it a try in a my first attempt at a Hot Pepper Margarita. I think it will be fine for me and my better-half but I doubt if most people will be able to handle the heat. We’ll see very soon.
‘The Tequila sucks the color and heat from them.’
My second project has been the Sake that’s almost ready for bottling. Within the next few days I’ll begin the bottling process and finally be done with it. It’s taken a little longer than usual due to it’s refusal to clear. It’s looking good now and it also has passed my first taste test.
‘Nice and clear.’
Today I’ll be making my second visit to the Saco Police Department. I’m trying to renew my permit allowing me to carry a concealed weapon for another four years. I’ve held permits in multiple states in the past but I have to say the state of Maine isn’t quite as difficult as some others. My reapplication was only ten pages long and in comparison to some states it’s rather short. I’ve finished the forms, obtained a new and handsome picture of myself, and a check to the city, of course, for $20.00. By far the cheapest fee I’ve ever paid for this constitutional privilege.
CAN’T LET THE BUREAUCRATIC MINUTIA GET ME DOWN
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