Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category
After admitting in my last post that I had an addictive personality got me to thinking. I thought I knew myself pretty well when I was able to admit that I was also claustrophobic. One phobia isn’t all that bad or so I thought. I decided to dig into the Everyuselessthing archives to learn more about phobias. I’m not sure that was such a great idea. I discovered a list of phobias that aren’t commonly known and I think I may suffer from a few more than previously thought. Here are a few examples:
Arachibutyrophobia – fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of the mouth.
Automatonophobia – fear of ventriloquists’ dummies.
Coulrophobia – fear of clowns.
Geniophobia – fear of chins.
Phobophobia – fear of fear.
Pteronophobia – fear of being tickled by feathers.
Rupophobia – fear of dirt.
I’ll only admit to having two additional phobias from that list and there isn’t a chance in hell I’ll tell you what they are. As I finished denigrating myself for all of my stupid phobias I received an email from a friend in KC. He’s a senior + senior citizen who’s been an internet rat since it’s inception. It was a ‘Hi, How are you?’ message ending with AMBW. I answered him quickly because I had no freaking clue what that meant. I know LOL, WTF, and a few others but never really felt the need to learn more. His AMBW means All My Best Wishes. There seem to be so many of these in use I decided to find a few more. These were a small sampling of texting acronyms I’m sure I’ll use only sporadically.
A3 – Anytime, Anywhere, Anyplace.
AFAIR – As Far As I an Remember.
ASAFP – As Soon As F**king Possible.
OMFG – Oh My F**king God.
AAI – Allah Already Informed
BITCH – Babe In Total Control of Herself
CFI – Complete F**king Idiot
CRST – Can’t Remember Sh*t
If any of you ever decide to send me a text or email containing these sort of acronyms please include detailed explanations as well. Life’s way too short for me to waste my time trying to figure them out.
One last bit of amusement to entertainment you. Years ago I was a police officer for the state of Pennsylvania. Early in my career I was in the patrol unit and spent a great deal of time investigating accidents, both trivial and serious. I thought I’d heard all the stupid reasons people offer up to explain their accidents but these samples taken from actual insurance reports were new even to me.
“I pulled away from the side of the road, glanced over at my mother-in-law and headed over the embankment.”
“In an attempt to kill a fly, I drove into a telephone pole.”
“A pedestrian hit me and went under my car.”
“The guy was all over the road. I had to swerve several times before I hit him.”
“An invisible car came out of nowhere, struck my car, and vanished.”
“The indirect cause of the accident was a little guy in a small car with a big mouth.”
“As I approached the intersection a sign appeared in a place where no stop sign had ever appeared before. I was unable to stop in time to avoid the accident.”
“I thought my window was down, but I found out it was up when I put my head through it.”
You just can’t make this stuff up. Most of these were way better than the stories I was told but just as funny. I think I’ve had enough of this for today. I have errands to run, pictures to take, coffee to drink, and people to watch.
ENJOY THIS DAY, I KNOW I WILL.
I’m one of those boring people who feels the need to constantly examine my life. I look at my past and judge myself, I look at my present and judge myself, and finally I look at my possible futures and judge that too. Also if I’m given the opportunity I’ll judge you as well. So not only am I a borderline addictive personality I’m a bit judgmental.
I’ve always suspected I had issues with addiction but never tried to delve into the why’s and wherefores until now. My list of addictions is long and began back when I was just an newborn infant. Here’s my list from my formative years in no particular order of importance:
Breathing
Breasts
Breast milk
Diapers
I was able to finally work through those minor addictions without the assistance of an expensive rehab program. I was well on my way to puberty where my list began to grow and become more interesting.
Breasts
Legs
Butts
Pornography
Sex
Puberty not only changed me physically but also intellectually. I understood at age thirteen that these addictions unlike my toddler list would likely become permanent. And guess what? I was somewhat correct. I resigned myself to learning to live with my addictions and to make the best of them. It was a dirty job but I stepped up and made the required personality adjustments to deal with them.
My teen years were interesting and a little frightening. My list again changed but was still manageable:
Sex
Breasts
Legs
French Blondes
Cigarettes
Beer
Pornography
College brought more changes and not all of them good. As the list increased so did my stress levels as you can plainly see:
Sex
Oral Sex
Brunettes
Blondes
Red Heads
Breasts
Beer
Whiskey
Marijuana
Wine
I learned a lot in those years but realized my life was in a rut so I dropped out of college and enlisted in the Army one step ahead of the draft board. This began another long, interesting, and scary adventure. Once more my list expanded a bit:
Sex
Oral sex
Oriental Women
Black Hair
Whiskey
Coffee
Cigarettes
Beer
Marijuana
Speed
Adrenaline
Wine
I returned home a few years later, much wiser and a much less addicted person. I was able to rid myself of many of my stupid addictions over the next two decades. Here are the final results after many years of really hard work:
Any Sex
Breasts
Coffee
Reading
Photography
Computers
Chocolate
Wine
Exercise
As you can see most of the exciting addictions in my life have slowly faded away. They were fun while they lasted but were discarded when they became dangerous or harmful. I’m now a much wiser and more boring person and I have to admit as I sit here quietly judging myself, I miss some of them a lot.
My list is certainly smaller but less dangerous and easily managed now. I expect this final list will remain with me forever.
The only addiction that stayed with me from infancy to the present day are “Breasts”. There’s no rehab programs to help me deal with them and I’m pretty happy about that. So thanks again Mom for the one lifelong addiction I’ve enjoyed the most and will continue to enjoy until the lid slams shut. I’d love to see the 12 step program for that addiction.
I know one thing for sure, I’d never miss a meeting.
Today feels exceptionally uninteresting. It’s a little blah, a little gray, and a little cold which means I’m suffering from a total lack of interest. I was just advised by my better-half that I’d be spending the better part of this day being dragged along on her shopping safari. Thank God I recharged my Kindle last night so I’m now good to go. That means I get to sit in the car and read while she shops.
If I use my head and offer up a little charm I might just convince her to buy me some sort of breakfast. I have a serious need for bacon and I need it right now. I swear it’s a worse addiction than cigarettes or coffee. It’s maybe the only thing that keeps these shopping forays bearable for me.
This blog needs a bit of a breather from stories about my life and times. Today I’ll supply the world with a few really useless but possibly interesting tidbits of information. It’s been a while since I’ve dished out a dose of these factoids and today’s the day. Here we go . . .
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The average American two-car garage is 25 percent bigger than the average Tokyo home.
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The European Union exports more to Switzerland than to China.
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During the first year of the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union, the Red Army issued 800,000 death sentences to it’s own soldiers.
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The first year in which there was no recorded lynching of a black American was 1952.
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There were 658 suicide bombings around the world in 2007 – more than double the number in any of the previous twenty-five years. Afghanistan and Iraq were responsible for 542 of them.
I didn’t say that all of the factoids would be funny or uplifting because life on this planet leaves a lot to be desired at times.
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In 1976, the United States had 30 percent of the world’s college students. By 2006, that had dropped to 14 percent.
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Intel employees collectively send or read 3 million emails a day.
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The Mafia accounts for 7 percent of the Italian GDP, more than any single business.
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There are as many fake doctors practicing in India as real ones.
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The average male orgasm lasts eight seconds, the average female orgasm twenty seconds.
I guess that last one explains a lot of things. Women not only orgasm longer but get to have multiples as well. That’s just unfair.
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In the United States, adult bookshops outnumber McDonald’s restaurants three to one.
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Napoleon often masturbated before going into battle.
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Red Bull is illegal in Norway, Denmark, and Ireland.
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In 2007, twenty-four people killed themselves jumping under Paris Metro trains. On the New York City Subway the figure was twenty-six, and on the London Underground fifty.
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Men produce twice as much saliva as women.
I think that’s enough for today. I wouldn’t want you to overdose on all this useless stuff. It’s Sunday, watch some football, drink a beer or two, eat some nacho’s and belch like you have a pair. That’s what I call “a day of rest”.
HAPPY SUNDAY
On any given day I’m never sure what’ll happen around here but today even surprised me a little. I was minding my own business and enjoying my life until I found a corpse in my driveway. I make it a point to be aware of what goes on around my residence by checking things regularly every day. I was able to determine the time of death based on my last patrol of the property and let me tell you that corpse was fresh.
With my investigative background it took only a quick glance to determine that this death was not accidental. . . . it appeared to be murder. I could plainly see the blunt force trauma to the head and several deep puncture marks along the side of the body. It wasn’t pretty.
‘Deadly head trauma to be sure.’
I closely searched the surrounding area looking for obvious clues but found nothing. This investigation really couldn’t be all that thorough because I no longer have access to the appropriate forensic equipment except for latex gloves and a big, old magnifying glass I found in a drawer.
In recent weeks there’ve been reports of suspicious behavior by a gang of delinquents (coyotes) roaming around the neighborhood after dark and wreaking havoc throughout the area. It’s resulted in the loss of a number of household pets and those guys are persons of interest.
‘He never had a prayer.’
There was no way to identify the body so we’ll just call him Mickey Doe. He had brown hair and a large unruly mustache. I was able to get a couple of photos of the body but they added very little to the investigation. As you can see this will be a difficult case to solve and I expect it will go cold rather quickly.
‘Some serious bite marks.’
My main suspect lives across the street and is often seen skulking around looking for trouble. He had motive and opportunity because I saw him just before finding the body as he was high-tailing it home to hide under the porch.
As of this report the case remains open. I was forced to remove the body from the driveway and reverently picked it up by the tail and tossed it into the woods. We have no refrigeration facilities here to store corpses.
Another sad and merciless loss of life here in Maine.
BE ON THE LOOK OUT FOR THIS GUY
FANGED AND DANGEROUS
All of us folks who love blogging seem to have that secret wish to be a published and recognized writer. We read the classics as students and are told by our teachers what great and wonderful authors they were. What they failed to explain was that these same incredible writers had private lives that were all too often a nightmare.
I’ve spent my life hanging out with creative types and have been amazed. I’ve found myself speechless at times after really getting to know them and seeing them for what they really are, just plain old, screwed up, and faulty human beings like everyone else. Without their creativity they’d be an average Joe with all the normal problems and complaints. Unfortunately that creativity gene has the bizarre ability to turn normal run-of-the-mill problems into absolute disasters. Boozing, drug use, and all too often an early and tragic death.
With that being said I thought I’d offer up some words of wisdom from some of our more creative celebrities. This is my lame attempt to show them as just regular folks with a huge twist. Let’s go . . . .
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“Listen, everyone is entitled to my opinion.” Madonna
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“I wish men had boobs because I like the feel of them. It’s so funny, when I record I sing with a hand over each of them. Maybe it’s a comfort thing.” Baby Spice
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“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.” Oscar Wilde
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“I say no to drugs. But they don’t listen.” Marilyn Manson
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“I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work; I want to achieve immortality through not dying.” Woody Allen
In college I found myself living in a small community of artists of all types. We remained separate from the rest of the school for a number of reasons. First we dressed a little differently, we saw things a little differently, and we didn’t give a damn what other people thought about us. I wish I would’ve had the good sense to write down a few of the more profound quotes they offered up as we sat around drinking wine and smoking a fat one. We solved all the problems of the world but couldn’t remember any of the solutions the next morning. How ironic! Keep reading . . .
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“Tragedy is when I cut my finger. Comedy is when you walk into an open sewer and die.” Mel Brooks
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“If I had a choice of having a woman in my arms or shooting a bad guy on a horse, I’d take the horse. It’s a lot more fun.” Kevin Costner
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“It’s like when I buy a horse. I don’t want a thick neck and short legs.” Mickey Rourke, on his ideal woman
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“My advice to you is get married. If you find as good wife you’ll be happy; if not, you’ll become a philosopher.” Socrates
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“Where the hell is Australia, anyway?” Britney Spears
I could go on but I think I’ve made my point. Creative types normally spend a good part of their lives “out there” on the very edge of “the box” and occasionally fall all the way out. I’ve been called creative for most of my life and it never seems to be all that complimentary. It’s always “He’s very creative, but a little strange.” For most of us that’s our badge of honor and we wear it proudly.
Long Live the Strange!
I’m writing this mid-year review of my New Year’s resolutions and it seems I’m doing a little better than I’ve done in the past. Just as an FYI, here’s a copy of the disclaimer I used after completing my review of 2014’s resolutions.
“Four completed out of seven seems pretty good to me but I need to improve that next year. I’d really like just once to complete all of them but I always seem to get sidetracked with other stuff. I may need a few easy ones for 2015 that won’t require me to work so hard. With that thought in mind here is my new list.”
Here we go with this year’s results, so far.
A: COMPLETED, I actually increased my time to forty-three minutes per session.
A: COMPLETED, This one was easy.
A: COMPLETED: This one was even easier.
A: COMPLETED, Believe it or not I’ve been extra good with this. With the birth of a second grandson I will now remain F-Bomb free for at least another year and a half.
A: COMPLETED, and still going strong.
A: INCOMPLETE, It’s hard to break this one semi-bad habit but I’m trying.
A: INCOMPLETE BUT IMPROVED, I no longer feel the least bit tempted to prance even after receiving a number of rather nice emails from my anonymous admirers.
A: INCOMPLETE, I have a few new scars but he really deserves being messed with.
a: INCOMPLETE, I’m averaging just over 400 and I hope to make up some ground this summer.
So far this year I’m well on my way to accomplishing five resolutions out of nine. I’ll be working hard for the next six months to get my numbers up and in line with my predictions (eternal optimism is not my strong suit).
If I ever complete all of my resolutions in a given year it will be an effing miracle and the world will come to an end.
I’m not normally a person captivated by breaking news events nor do I feel the need to be the first person to spread the word about certain occurrences but today is an exception. So here goes. . .
I received a tidbit of news this morning from an anonymous source that my previously mentioned garden marauder, aka "The Skunk", may have been fatally injured during the night. I’m aware that my earlier threats against his life could possibly make me a person of interest in his disappearance and possible death.
I’ll probably spend the day waiting around for the inevitable arrival of the animal homicide investigators. I also heard there’s been a rash of similar deaths in the last few weeks and no real leads or clues have been discovered. It’s only a matter of time until they pick up the rumor of my blog and those rather inappropriate death threats.
At 3 am my source just happened to be nearby when the "The Skunk" was observed slowly slinking through my yard towards my garden. It just so happened that just as he was nearing the garden he was accosted by a couple of strangers. Within seconds loud and shrill screaming was heard by neighbors sounding much like someone being assaulted and badly injured. The screaming continued even louder but seemed to be slowly moving towards a nearby wooded area where it suddenly stopped. All was quiet in the neighborhood for the rest of the night.
After listening to that report and being the experienced criminal investigator I am, the next morning I hurried to the alleged crime scene. While I found no traces of blood or indications of a tussle I continued collecting what few facts that were available.
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Fact #1 – I actually heard the screams outside my bedroom window that night but saw nothing suspicious.
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Fact #2 – I found no evidence at the scene of violence being perpetrated.
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Fact #3 – My garden was untouched for the first time in weeks.
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Fact #4 – I personally saw no suspicious characters in the neighborhood that night nor did I hear anything that would help me identify the unknown subject or subjects (the UNSUBS).
The next day I was approached by two investigators who required me to supply them with an alibi for the time in question. Since they could find no forensic evidence at the scene they began the process of building a circumstantial case with me as their chief suspect. While my better-half was asleep beside me that night she was unable to verify my presence or supply me with an believable alibi.
‘Suspect #1’
Later that same day I heard a rumor that I immediately conveyed to the investigators concerning two suspicious and dangerous looking characters seen in the area. They’d been spotted with the victim near the scene of the alleged crime on the night in question by an anonymous source,who I refused to identify. They were very upset with me but I do have the constitution right to protect my sources.
“Suspect #2’
A little later in the day an APB was sent out to all nearby neighborhoods with a BOLO on these two suspects. They were described briefly as being similar in stature, approximately 24 inches tall, wearing shaggy overcoats, and with a mean and hungry look in their eyes. Other information received indicated they were members of a notorious local gang called "The Coyotes". Many suspicious deaths have occurred in the past in this area that were attributed to this gang but no arrests have never been made.
Hopefully this will get these pesky investigators off my butt. They’re now requesting all of my guns for ballistic testing on the side chance the victim’s body will eventually be located. I immediately checked with my attorney and we refused to give up my weapons. They left in a huff but there is no doubt in my mind that this matter wasn’t going to be dropped anytime soon.
Trust me, they’ll never find the body.
I’m still in bed this morning because it’s raining, I’m all warm and cozy, and I don’t wanna get up. The Spring season is slowly moving towards Summer and most of my ridiculous yard and garden related chores have been completed. Except for one.
I have to say that I’m still a bit irritated that I haven’t been able to put an end to my night marauder who is haunting my garden. For some reason for the first time in years I have an effing skunk who has been undoing most of my good works in the garden almost every night. This fat bastard has been patrolling our property for some years without ever bothering the garden. He apparently discovered an abundant supply of worms and/or grubs in the soil and has been digging for them furiously. The fact that he has killed many of my plants in the process is the source of my current anger.
‘This isn’t him but it could be his twin brother.’
On top of it all this damn skunk is huge. If he grows just a little more I could probably put a saddle on him and take a ride. He also has a habit of spraying anything and everything in his immediate area if bothered. A year of so ago the neighbor’s cat had a midnight run-in with him which resulted in our backyard reeking of skunk for many days. I really don’t want that happening again.
My secret plan was to sit on my deck with a pistol in my lap and hopefully put a stop to all of the night time nonsense. I sat quietly the first night until 3 am reading my Kindle and maintaining a close surveillance of the garden. It was a quiet night with no activity. Then it began to rain which immediately chased me off to bed. I slept the sleep of angels knowing that the garden was safe for the night. What a moron I am. I awoke in the morning and walked out to the garden and the place was a mess. He’d been busy digging up tomatoes, cucumbers, and a number of pepper plants and did it all in a driving rainstorm. To say I was not happy would be a huge understatement.
I spent the next night on the deck armed, dangerous, and pissed off. I never heard or saw a thing and the next morning more plants had been destroyed. That SOB is making me a little crazy. I’ve since replanted all of the damaged plants and I’ll continue to monitor things as best I can and rid myself of this pest.
I have a bad history withy skunks and as a young guy was known to hunt them. My father paid me and a friend a bounty for each one eliminated from damaging his garden. The smell of skunk still makes me a little queasy since I was sprayed one hot summer evening in 1962. I was on my knees looking under a shed for an escaping skunk and BAM, he was right there and sprayed me across the side of my head. Be warned, that is not something you ever want to experience. I was forced to shave my head by my mother and wash it thoroughly numerous times with tomato juice. Nothing really worked very well and for more than a month every time my head got wet or sweaty you could smell skunk. A lost a few friends that summer.
With any luck at all before summer’s end I’ll soon be posting a photo of his corpse. He’s mocked me long enough and now it’s personal.
My Rule #6 – Don’t screw with my garden, or else.
I decided to do that one big job I had scheduled for today before I blogged anything. That may have been a huge mistake. I’ve been putting off doing some repair work to my lawn tractor that still refuses to start. I knew it would be a frustration for me because I hate doing things mechanical. The only mechanical person in my entire family was my late father who maintained a large float-glass factory for PPG for more than forty years. He knew everything about machines and he taught me only enough to get me into trouble. He also over the years taught me how to really and truly cuss. I was never aware of how many cuss words could be strung together until I worked with him on a few of his projects.
Pop was a professional cusser and damn proud of it. I ‘m more like him than I care to admit and if today was any example I may be better now than he was then. This effing tractor is driving me insane. I was tempted today to just drive it out into the middle of the back yard, douse it with gasoline, and a have a freaking bonfire.
After I thought about it a while I decided that doing that would then turn into something else entirely. With my luck some A-Hole from the town might ride by, check to see if I had a burn permit, and then call the cops when they found out I didn’t. Then the cops would have appeared and issued me a citation which would have sent me right over the edge. That combined with my pissed off attitude over this tractor would have assured me of a ride to the county jail for some sort of disorderly conduct charge. I know for a fact I’d have used a lot of those good old cuss words my father taught me and then the cop would have cuffed me and dragged me away.
If all that had actually occurred it would have cost me a few hundred dollars in fines, a few hours in the jail, and a somewhat questionable relationship with the local police. Then I would have come home and the real punishment would have started. I’d have heard each and every one of my father’s favorite cuss words all over again from my petit but really loud better-half. Nothing on earth is worth sitting through that tirade.
With my common sense keeping me from a trip to the jail I ended up saving a few hundred dollars today. Now if I take that money and hire a real mechanic to fix this damn tractor I just might break even.
It’s funny how things just keep snowballing along whether we like it or not.
I just finished allowing the federal government and the IRS to peek into my business as they so love to do. The only people worse than them is Google. I figure in just a few years Google will take over the entire earth and make information slaves of us all. But that’s a topic for another day.
Each and every time I file a tax return I become moody, disrespectful, and rebellious and today is no different. I’m not motivated to do do much else so you will be inundated with a truckload of useless crap. I haven’t done this for some time so all complaints will be trash-canned.
Here goes nothing . . . .
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The first name of of TV detective Lieutenant Columbo was Phillip.
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The Flintstones lawyer who never lost a case was called Perry Masonry.
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Rita Hayworth’s real name was Margarita Cansino.
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Spencer Tracy said he would only take the part of the Penquin in the Batman TV series if he were allowed to kill Batman.
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Sylvester Stallone used to sweep the lion cages in New York’s Central Park Zoo to pay his way while trying to break into acting.
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Sean Connery once worked as a coffin polisher.
Are you captivated yet with this stream of meaningless nonsense. Don’t get up and walk away because I have a few more tidbits.
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After Harrison Ford’s brief 1966 appearance as a bell-boy in Dead Heat on a Merry-Go-Round he was told, “Kid, you aint got it.”
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Johnny Mathis dubbed Miss Piggy’s singing voice in The Muppet Movie.
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Liquid Paper was invented by the mother of Mike Nesmith of Monkee fame.
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Don McLean’s song “American Pie” is not named after the plane in which Buddy Holly died – the plane had no name, only a registration number: N3794N.
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Popeye’s girlfriend, Olive Oyl, wore a size 14A shoe.
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The Muppet Show was banned from TV in Saudi Arabia because one of it’s stars was Miss Piggy. Pigs are forbidden to Muslims.
And in keeping with the upcoming tax day . . .
Americans Use Sixteen Thousand Tons of Aspirin Each Year.
everyuselessthing.com 