Well here we are, another slow, lazy, uninteresting Sunday in Maine. I was hijacked once again to join another shopping safari with my better-half and so I came properly prepared. I have my Kindle, my tablet, and an armload of reference books. She has that evil-eye look that I hate to see when she’s shopping. That means more stores to visit, more parking lots to sit in, and a serious lack of available Wi-Fi.
This appears to be a normal run-of-the-mill pandemic shopping day. The percentage of people wearing masks appears to be increasing every day it seems. I think the state mandate and the recent surge of new cases is starting to have a positive impact on mask compliance. It’s still weirds me out a little bit to see young toddlers wearing masks and being carried around by their mothers who aren’t. As Ron White so often says “You just can’t fix stupid”.
I’m not certain if I mentioned it before but three weeks ago I received my third Pfizer Covid shot. I’m considered an extremely high risk person and Covid-19 would likely end me if I catch it. That leads me right into my next talking point, Millennials.
I’ve been somewhat critical towards Millennial’s in recent months because their attitude toward vaccinations and masks is as stupid as their feelings about senior citizens. They’re concerned only with themselves it seems by shrugging their shoulders on the masking and vaccination requirements. I would hope they’d realize by now that by complying they would go a long way in helping to protect others who may be at risk. I’ve heard many off-the-cuff derogatory remarks made in recent months concerning the “old folks” and “they just want to live forever”. I’m sure that many of the dead victims of the virus wouldn’t have been reassured by attitudes like that prior to their deaths. Millennials give new meaning to the term the “Me Generation”. That goes to all of you Anti-Vaxers as well.
I’ve collected a large amount of miscellaneous information over the years and have saved only a small percentage of it. I only keep things that are interesting to me and a little unusual. Many of you may have seen the following information in the past in one form or another but many have not. Since it’s a lazy day here in Maine I’m sending this along for your amusement and also because of my inability to motivate myself this morning. These facts are truly strange and go well beyond the level of coincidence. Read on and enjoy some gruesome American history.
Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846.
John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946.
Abraham Lincoln was elected president in 1860.
John F. Kennedy was elected president in 1960.
The names Lincoln and Kennedy each contains seven letters.
Both were particularly concerned with civil rights.
Both wives lost children while living in the White House.
Both Presidents were shot on a Friday.
Both Presidents were shot in the head.
Lincoln’s secretary was named Kennedy.
Kennedy’s secretary was named Lincoln.
Both were assassinated by Southerners.
Both successors were named Johnson.
Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln, was born in 1808.
Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908.
John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln, was born in 1839.
Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy, was born in 1939.
Both assassins were known by their three names.
Both names were composed of 15 letters.
Lincoln was shot at the theater named Ford.
Kennedy was shot in a car called Lincoln.
Booth ran from a theater and was caught in a warehouse.
Oswald ran from a warehouse and was caught in a theater.
Booth and Oswald were both assassinated before their trials.
And here’s the kicker
A week before Lincoln was shot, he was in Monroe, Maryland.
A week before Kennedy was shot, he was in Marilyn Monroe.
I’m talking about hide and seek at dusk, sitting on the porch. Hot bread and butter, eating a super-duper sandwich (Dagwood), Red light, Green light, 123.
Chocolate milk, lunch tickets, any candy in a brown paper bag. Hopscotch, butterscotch, Double-Dutch, jacks, kickball and dodgeball. Mother, May I? Hula Hoops, sunflower seeds, jawbreakers, blow pops, Mary Janes, and running through the sprinklers. The smell of the sun and licking salty lips.
Wait . . .
Watching lightning bugs in a jar, playing slingshot and Red Rover. When around the corner seemed far away, and going downtown seemed like going somewhere.
Bedtime, climbing trees. 1 million mosquito bites and sticky fingers. Cops and Robbers, Cowboys and Indians, sitting on the curb, jumping down the steps, jumping on the bed, and pillow fights.
Being tickled to death, running until you are out of breath. Laughing so hard that your stomach hurt. Being tired from playing . . . Remember that?
I’m not finished yet . . .
What about the girl that had the big bubbly handwriting? Licking the beater when your mother made cake. When there were two types of sneakers for boys and girls (Keds and PF Flyers), and the only time you wore them at school was for “gym”.
When nobody owned a purebred dog. When the quarter was a decent allowance, and another quarter a huge bonus. When you’d reach into a muddy gutter for a penny. When girls neither dated or kissed until late high school, if then. When your mom wore nylons that came in two pieces.
When you got your windshield cleaned, oil checked, and gas pumped, without asking, for free. And you didn’t pay for air, and you got trading stamps to boot! When laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels hidden inside the boxes.
When any parent could discipline any kid, or feed him or use him to carry groceries, and nobody, not even the kid, thought anything of it. When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents.
Not done yet . . .
When all of your male teachers wore neckties and female teachers had their hair done, every day. When they threatened to keep kids back a grade if they failed… And did! When being sent to the principal’s office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home. Having a weapon in school, meant being caught with a slingshot. When nearly everyone’s Mom was at home when the kids got there.
Basically, we were in fear for our lives but it wasn’t because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc. Disapproval of our parents and grandparents was a much bigger threat!
Decisions were made by going “eeny-meanie-miney-mo”. Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming, “do over!” Race issue meant arguing about who ran the fastest. Money issues were handled by whoever was the banker in Monopoly.
Catching fireflies could happily occupy an entire evening. It wasn’t odd to have two or three “best friends”. Being old, referred to anyone over 20. The net on a tennis court was the perfect height to play volleyball and rules didn’t matter. It was unbelievable that dodgeball wasn’t an Olympic event.
The worst thing you could catch from the opposite sex was cooties. It was magic when Dad would remove his thumb. Scrapes and bruises were kissed and made better.
For years I’ve collected lists, sayings, and quotations. The more I find, the more you get to read. One of these days I’m going to sit down and put together some of my thoughts, my limericks, and my musings. They’re sure to be just as interesting as these folks. And in
It’s not death that alarms me, but dying surely does.
A diplomat is a person who always remembers a woman’s birthday, but never her age.
In wine there is truth. Pliny the Elder
It’s not the men in my life I worry about, it’s the life in my men. Mae West
I can remember way back when a liberal was one who was generous with his own money. Will Rogers
Fish and guests smell in three days. Ben Franklin
A pessimist thinks all women are bad and an optimist hopes they are.
The ultimate rejection is when your hand falls asleep while masturbating.
Sex is only dirty, if it’s done right.
A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic. Joseph Stalin
Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.
I prefer an interesting device to a boring virtue.
What goes around, comes around.
He who hesitates is last. Mae West
Some of us are becoming the men we wanted to marry. Gloria Steinem
I am not young enough to know everything.
The zoo is a place of refuge were savage beasts are protected from people.
I found this list while digging around in some old boxes a few days ago. I eliminated a few that were dated like cheap shots at Bill Clinton. But those that remain I felt were worth sharing with you. Most of them I absolutely love especially those pearls of wisdom supplied by Mae West. Would’ve loved to have met her.
It’s now the end of September and after reading all of the memorials and remembrances of 9/11, I decided to go my own way. I don’t want to write another heart-wrenching memorial because it’s been done by just about everyone else. I think I would like to highlight the perpetrators and their ilk who continue to commit murder and mayhem unchecked almost everywhere. I can only do the one thing they absolutely hate, that is to ridicule them. We all know they have no sense of humor so someone needs to poke the bear. That would be me. Read on . . .
YOU MAY BE A MUSLIM IF . . .
You refine heroin for a living, but you have a moral objection to liquor.
You own a $3000 machine gun and a $5000 rocket launcher, but you can’t afford shoes.
You have more wives than teeth.
You wipe your butt with your bare hand, but consider bacon unclean.
You think vests come in two styles: bullet-proof and suicide.
You can’t think of anyone you haven’t declared Jihad against.
You consider television dangerous, but routinely carry explosives in your underwear.
You were amazed to discover that cell phones have uses other than setting off roadside bombs.
You have nothing against women and think every man should own at least four.
Your cousin was once President of United States.
You find this offensive or racist and you don’t forward it.
What more can I say? If only half of these statements are true, those people aren’t worth any more of my valuable time. I’ve got more important things to do, like scratching my ass, picking my nose, or just about anything else.
I’ve been accused by some of being a “sarcastic SOB”. I’ve been accused by others as being sarcastic when there is no need to be. In both of these cases my attitude remains pretty much the same. “I’m sarcastic, it isn’t going to change, so get over it.” I came by my ability honestly to answer almost anything said to me with a reciprocal sarcastic reply with little or no effort. I began developing this superpower at the age of 10 and I discovered early on that I can deflect parents, adults, and bullies, with sarcasm which in turn kept me from being beaten, spanked, and bothered.09/14/2021
At first I tried to get along with my main bully, Ken Daly, but bullies won’t or can’t deal with anyone they perceive as weak. I remember clearly the first time he was introduced to my sarcastic wit. Unfortunately he was too stupid to understand sarcasm and when I told him after taking a few minutes of his abuse, “Aren’t you just the biggest, scariest, and smartest SOB in the school?” I was stunned, he was actually flattered and just couldn’t stop smiling and proceeded to strut his stuff around the schoolyard. That one statement made me his new good buddy and after two years of his kicking me around, stealing my possessions, and smacking me a few times, I was finally free to live the rest of junior high and high school without that a-hole causing me problems.
I decided then and there that using wit, sarcasm, and glib remarks were valuable tools and I should refine my use of them to become “all I could be”. If used properly along with smiles and clever conversation it can also get me laid every so often. That in itself justified all of the time and effort I put forth to becoming a virtual “sarcasm machine”.
As always when I write about things I try to research the meanings of the words I’m using. All of the intellectuals who are responsible for compiling dictionaries and encyclopedias describe sarcasm very clinically and for the most part in a negative fashion. I find that disturbingly unintellectual. While I can agree to some extent that sarcasm can be used in a mean and aggressive way, I prefer a different approach.
Sarcasm is a tool and a God-given talent but really gets no respect from academia. Viewing sarcasm only as a negative really doesn’t get to the truth of it. There are some people, highly intelligent and educated, who just don’t get sarcasm. I throw sarcasm into a conversation for good reason. It allows me to gauge who understands my humor and those who don’t. For those who don’t I am forever grateful. I in turn use them to entertain the ones who are understanding me. I try not to be disrespectful during these occasions because I never want to be perceived as mean or rude. I like a lot of laughter in my life and when people around me don’t bring anything to the table, it’s up to me to create some and I do it as often as possible. Life’s too damn short.
AND TO ALL OF YOU READERS OUT THERE, HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY
My blog is called everyuselessthing for a reason. Two of the many useless things I like to address on a regular basis are stupidity and political correctness. Whether it’s politicians, celebrities, or your normal run-of-the-mill idiots, stupidity is found everywhere. While I do get quite a tingle shedding light on many of these folks I think it’s only fair that I pass along to each of you the skills needed to identify them from a distance. So read on people and get educated. Here’s a clarifying definition.
Stupidity is a quality or state of being stupid, or an act or idea that exhibits properties of being stupid. According to the online Merriam-Webster dictionary, the word’s stupid and stupidity entered the English language in 1541. Since then, stupidity has taken place along with “fool”, “idiot”, “dumb”, “moron”, and related concepts as a pejorative appellation for human misdeeds, whether purposeful or accidental. Read on . . .
The Fundamental Laws of Human Stupidity
Always and inevitably each of us underestimates the number of stupid individuals in circulation.
The probability that a given person is stupid is independent of any other characteristic possessed by that person.
A person is stupid if they cause damage to another person or group of people without experiencing personal gain, or even worse causing damage to themselves in the process.
Non-stupid people always underestimate the harmful potential of stupid people; they constantly forget that at any time anywhere, and in any circumstance, dealing with or associating themselves with stupid individuals invariably constitutes a costly error.
A stupid person is the most dangerous type of person there is.
Now that you have these basic laws of human stupidity you are well on your way to becoming an expert “idiot and moron” spotter. What better way to protect your family than being able to spot the fools before they can infect innocent passers-by with the “stupidity virus”. One pandemic is more than enough for us to handle these days. The following definition is just another clue you can use to find these idiots and morons. They almost always suffer from this affliction (PC) as well.
Political Correctness (adjectivally, objectively, politically correct; both forms commonly abbreviated to PC) is a term which denotes language, ideas, policies, and behavior seen as seeking to minimize social and institutional offense in occupational, gender, racial, cultural, sexual context, and doing so to an excessive extent. In current usage, the term is primarily pejorative, while the term “politically correct” has been used as an implicitly positive self-description.
BEWARE MY FRIENDS . . . STAY ALERT . . . THEY ARE ABSOLUTELY EVERYWHERE
I’ve spent a considerable amount of time bitching and complaining about the pop culture nonsense going on in this country. Now I want to address culture in its truer form. Not your highbrow, ballet, museum, and big money culture and not some idiot celebrity worshiping pop culture, but our American societies lack of a real culture. Every country on this planet has its own distinct culture from Sri Lanka to Samoa and I thought that was pretty cool but as I gave it more thought I saw the darker side of it.
America in my view hasn’t any culture of any kind that is specific to its citizens. It’s true that people clamor to come here to live in a country most of them professed to hate when they’re in their own country. Thousands arrive here every year to make a better life for themselves whether legally or illegally. That’s great for America as it always has been but then the dark side shows us its ugly face.
People fight and endure dangerous and risky journeys to taste the freedom offered here. So what do they do first. They find an enclave or cluster of others from their home country and settle into the same culture they just left. They then proceed to organize so they can bitch about how they are discriminated against here in the land of the free and then demand America change to make them feel more at home. If you really want things to be like they were in your home country than you probably should have stayed there to begin with. But again, where is America’s culture?
Are we just Eastern Europe on steroids. Multiple cultures living on top of each other for generations, pissing and moaning about the unfairness of it all, and just waiting for the day when everyone else will see the light and recognize that their culture is the best.
How many Chinatowns are there in this country? How many Korea towns, or German towns, or Irish neighborhoods, do we have? What is America’s culture? I’m having a real problem trying to recognize it because I firmly believe there is none. America’s freedoms are a great draw for the downtrodden and politically persecuted from around the world. I get that, but so what? They bring with them all of their BS and problems and then expect us to change our way of thinking. I’m not painting all immigrants with a broad brush. I understand there are some who make the changeover easily, learning the language, and moving on with their new American lives. If you were to move anywhere else on the globe it would be expected of you to learn the language there. I don’t see any country except the US that even worries about such things.
What I am demanding is that the American government do something to help create a legitimate American culture. Make the English language once and for all the official language of the United States. Instead of printing documents with 13 languages and dialects, spend that money on mandatory English-speaking classes for all those who wish to permanently relocate here.
My immigrant grandparents came here to make a new life for themselves. There was a second language spoken but it was spoken only in the home. They understood that learning English was the only way to truly become an American citizen. So what did they do? They learned the damn language. I was raised listening to German in the home for most of my early life. I thought it was cool but I knew I lived in America and that German was an old country tradition that really had no attraction to me. I was a goddamn American and proud of it.
There never will be a legitimate American culture unless something is done and soon. We know just how bad things can get like when the ethnic fighting took place in Eastern Europe after the dissolution of Czechoslovakia. The first thing every ethnic groups seems to want was the death of everyone who isn’t just like them. Murder squads, rape gangs, and genocide are the three things I hope we never have the misfortune to see on the streets of America.
If these ethnic separations continue unchecked, at some point things could get awfully scary.
I love looking back at this country’s politics in my attempt to learn where all of the bad habits of our political elite have been learned. One of the major criticisms of our current politicians is that they are only concerned with “soundbites” rather than substance. Since I agree with that criticism I decided to try and pin down where it all started. The rise of the Mainstream Media has always been blamed for “sound biting” every candidate until we could just scream. What I discovered was more than just a little interesting. The use of campaign slogans began well before the media became so powerful. The following slogans are sometimes cute, sometimes hurtful, but always entertaining. This is just a small sampling of old and new campaign slogans that started the “soundbite revolution”.
Tippecanoe and Tyler, Too -1840
Fifty-Four or Fight -1844
Equal Rights to All, Special Privileges to None -1900
Stand Pat With McKinley -1900
Keep Cool With Coolidge -1924
A Chicken in Every Pot, A Car in Every Garage -1928
In Hoover We Trusted and Now We Are Busted -1948
One Good Term Deserves Another -1934
I’m Just Wild About Harry -1948
To Err is Truman -1948
Phooey on Dewey -1948
I Like Ike -1952
I Still Like Ike -1953
In Your Guts You Know He’s Nuts -1964
Never Been Indicted -1980
It’s the Economy Stupid -1992
I guess we’ve come by it honestly. Apparently we citizens always were suckers for cheesy “soundbites” even when they were just called “campaign slogans”.
HOPEFULLY IT WILL BE “TIME FOR CHANGE” AGAIN IN 2024
This is my former owner “Stormy” who passed away 3 years ago after suffering a heart attack. He spent 17 years with me and is sadly missed. This post is in his memory.
He was a sly and subtle cat who was laid back and always appeared aloof and uncaring. I’ve been acquainted over many years with seven cats and each one has had its own peculiarities and personality quirks. After years of observing them all I’ve determined that one characteristic was common to them all. I call it the 20 second, Delayed Response Syndrome. With dogs you shout a command and they spring to their feet wagging their tails and just begging to do your bidding. I think cats get the same rush from our attention but they choose not to show it quite so openly. They’ll sit and wait for 20 seconds then nonchalantly stroll over to see what’s going on. Try it out yourself if you’re owned by a cat, it’s amazing.
You’ll also note that I continually say “owned by a cat” and I’m not kidding. Years ago I read a Sci-Fi short story that went a long way to convincing me that an actual alien invasion of the Earth had already taken place. Apparently thousands of years ago the first cats landed on this planet and began their slow and deliberate takeover. Many people say the Chinese are people who think long-term. Compared to cats the Chinese have the attention span of a moth around a flame. I consider myself a well trained and officially certified pet belonging to a cat.
Let me explain further. My better-half was a dog person and when we finally decided to cohabitate I was concerned about her relationship with “Stormy”. He and I had been together for almost 10 years at that time and had been living the swinging bachelor lifestyle. It appeared to be a Mexican standoff with my better-half and her son for the first month but slowly and surely Stormy began to reel them in.
We bought him only the best food, fresh water every day, and we shoveled and cleaned his disgusting litter box all too often. He also had access to an outside deck where he could lounge all day in the sun and chase a bird or two. He had the good life and he knew it.
We mourned the loss of Stormy but life must go on. After a year and a half we finally decided we needed a new owner and we made a trip to the local shelter. Now let me introduce you all to the new Queen of the World, “Lucy”.
She is a handful. She is snippy, sassy, and opinionated. She is the center of her own universe and therefore so are we. She is attitude personified and has enough for ten cats. If we feed her food she doesn’t like, she just walks away. She also expects special treats each and every time someone walks near her food dishes.
Stormy was always a quiet unassuming cat but she is anything but. She never shuts up. She walks through the house showing her annoyance with just about everything. God help us all if the litter box isn’t kept clean enough. She’ll just squeal a little and then poop on the floor next to it and then just strut away. As you can see in the photo she has that “evil eye” thing going on. She gives me that stare at least ten times a day.
Finally last night as I was just dozing off she jumped up on the bed and allowed me to move the hell over and make room for her. What a sweetheart. Because I didn’t immediately begin to pet and cuddle her she turned her back on me and left the room. I found her later sleeping on my chair in the living room.
I’d like to continue this story but the sun’s coming out and Queen Lucy has been bugging me for the last 20 minutes to open the door to the deck. She gets a tad grumpy if she doesn’t get her deck time.
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