***Update*** LiLu has informed me that I am to link to her, but I don't know were she lives. Anyway, I think she actually meant for me to link here at LiLu's place or something like that. I don't know. I'm a Beaver Hunter, now a IT person for Christ Sake.
I guess it’s time I did a TMI thing like everyone else. Okay!
Back in the early 80’s I was newly divorce and enjoying a somewhat semi-successful stint of getting laid. Ya know. There are some lean times when your right arm muscle looks like Popeye’s, and some prosperous times when all the cardio helps keep the abs tight. And I was in the cardio/abs phase and enjoying it very much. Nothing was culled (thrown away) and all was enjoyed. And I was on my way to becoming an autograph giving star.
My roommate, Bill, and I double dated on a trip to Talladega for a weekend of camping, booze, grass, cookouts and some awesome NASCAR racing - back when men raced and pussies like Kyle Bush and Jeff Gordon watched from the grandstands.
Anyway, on Saturday night, after a day of watching what was then called Bush cars race and loads of cold beer and a toke or two, my lady and I felt the need for some serious belly slapping. So we excused ourselves to the tent to commence the exploration of some never before seen territory. Yep, you could have call me an explorer, a mountain man (or mounting man) back then. Old Coffeypot Boone, king of the beaver hunters…what? Oh, sorry!
Anyway, Bill and his lady got this brilliant idea of a joke. They backed the car around and put the headlights on bright aiming at the tent. I didn’t notice as I thought all the light was from the heaven I was in at the time. Golden light of pleasure…what? OKAY! Damn! I try to be a little artistic here. Fuck you!
Oh, and speaking of fucking…all the campers from acres around the track gathered at the back of our tent and got a silhouette show of their life. Me on top, her on top, doggie style and the good old 69. I was a star. I was oblivious! But she knew what was going on and was getting more turned on by the exhibition. So, yep, I was in haven. Till it was over!
I heard all this yelling and clapping noise and, still being fucked up on booze and grass, and probably a little dumb as hell, I thought maybe one of the NASCAR drivers had stopped by for some fan adulation and autographs. So I jumped into my shorts and came outside. Bill was laughing his ass off, clapping me on the back and telling me good show.
Others started coming over and congratulating me and my lady and offered us free beer. One guy and two girls came over and ask for my autograph. They had taken pictures and videos of the shadow scene and wanted autographs to go along with them.
At fist I was kind of embarrassed, then, with all the commotion and adulation I was receiving, I got kind of cocky (no pun intended.) My lady then told me she knew what was happening and it had turned her on. She wanted to do it again, and that’s when the cockiness went away. I couldn’t!
But I did enjoy making the movie and saw a great NASCAR race on Sunday. It was a great weekend.
Let me interrupt your normal blogging activities for this post. This is kina long, but please read it all the way.
Man I got a great surprise in the mail today.
As some of you may know, I send a few things and letters to some great people in harms way. Today one of the guys I met through Hope at Hope Radio sent me, not one, but two letters. This is not a usual thing, especially for an old man. Young ladies and pretty women, MILF’s and Cougars get much more mail from the troops than someone like me. So it just tickles me like a feather duster on my nuts to get these two letters.
A few months ago Hope at Hope Radio sent out an enquiry to see if some of you in my blog world and some in her blog world would be interested in helping out a group of MP’s that were going without or very few bits of mail. So I volunteered.
I try to send some stuff at least once a month and email him letters weekly. However, he has been move to an outpost where he stands guard in a tower in the cold and wind, at mercy of the elements. And he lives in a tent. Primitive living conditions in this day and time. I think some of the stuff helps. And he cannot answer my emails as he can only come into ‘town’ to get his emails, and he receives his snail mail and packages about once a week or so. So when I got these two letters, and know what he had to sacrifice to write them, it made me proud.
At the expense of divulging private conversations, I want to post these two letters. But remember, peeps, this isn’t about me. I want you to hear what a good old American soldier feels and things. What we, and you, too, if you take the time, send them means so much with so little time and effort on our part.
So the first one from just before Christmas:
Well it’s time to go old school. I got moved to a new area. We now live in tents. It’s not too bad, only down fall is not net. But if or should I say when, which ever, I get a day off I can go to ‘town’ and check email.
Thank you so much for the package. I guess I got 1 of 3. Thank you. It truly means a lot to me to know you all care this much. I will be sure to send you some pictures when I get to ‘town.’ I’ll send you a few of me and my guys, and I have to show off my beautiful daughter (born a couple of weeks before he deployed) also. I really don’t have a lot (information and stories to pass on) since our mission is classified, but I will try and get some of our living area and after Christmas, some of our Christmas pictures.
The hand and toe warmers are awesome! We sit in towers a lot and the heat sucks. They have helped a lot. It’s weird. The military just built the tower, but it leans, heaters don’t work. I dunno, but the whole saying “Cheapest Bidder”…yes, it’s true.
Thank you so much for everything you have done. It means a lot to me and the guys. Merry Christmas to you and your family. Be safe. You all are in my prayers.
(We are in HIS prayers??? Man!)
And the other one:
John (that’s me in case you didn’t know)
I just got the other 2 packages. Thank you so much. The Hot Hands are a huge help. Then I got some more. That was a great idea. It’ll help in sitting in a cold tower at night. I do have to say everything you have sent has been great. I know I’m a pain. My girlfriend, parents and everyone hates me when it comes to getting me things because I never want or need anything. I know it’s a bad thing, but I like to give, not really receive.
I was talking to my girlfriend, Amber (how cool is that?), and she is wanting to move back home to Florida (currently in MO). So if we do I will be a little closer to come visit you. I told her once I get back, I am coming to visit you and your family when wr go visit her parents. I would really like to meet you.
Just through the packages and letters, you have helped me a lot when I was down. I know that you will always be there.
Well, I’m going to hit the sack, bed. Another long day. Thanks again for the packages.
Peeps, it don’t take much to make a difference in someone’s life. If you are interested, give Hope a shout, or go to Soldiers Angles or Any Soldier ( or Sailor or Marine or Air Force or Coast Guard or National Guard) sites and find someone to help.
One thing I noticed from ALL the guys I send stuff to, they share it with their buddies. So, though I send stuff to one, many benefit from it. And he also told me in an earlier email that the gets all he needs from the Army. Silly boy! Is the Army sending them hand warmers, socks, M&Ms, hard candy, sour candy, Beef Jerky, magazines and books? No! And he is getting a bit of America and he shares it. That’s the way it is in the service.
But be aware, you may not get a response from they recipient. Duties, shyness, etc may keep them from replying. But they will care. I know! I rarely received mail from my parents and none from my brothers and sister or high school friends when I was in. I never even went to my rack (bed) when mail call was passed. So I know you will make a difference.
Now back to your normal blogging…
Be sure to look below, too, as I have blogged a couple others today, too.
An older lady was somewhat lonely and decided she needed a pet to keep her company. So off to the pet shop she went. She searched and searched, but nothing seemed to catch her interest, except this ugly frog.
As she walked by the jar he was in, she looked and he winked at her and whispered: "I'm lonely, too. Buy me and you won't be sorry!"
The old lady figured what the heck (did ever occur to her to think ‘Holy Shit, a talking frog - that can wink‘?,) and she hadn't found anything else. So she bought the frog and put him in the car.
Driving down the road the frog whispered to her: "Kiss me and you won't be sorry."
The old lady figured again what the heck, and kissed the frog. Immediately the frog turned into an absolutely gorgeous sexy young handsome prince.
The prince then kissed the old lady back. And guess what the old lady turned into???
Come on.... Guess!
Ooooooohhhhhhh.... Come on!
THE OLD LADY TURNED INTO THE FIRST MOTEL SHE COULD FIND.
My long time buddy, Craig, one of my first followers, over at e.craig earthreal blog has a post about a most phenomenal discovery. He reports:
“Lawrence Livermore Laboratories has discovered the heaviest element yet known to science. The new element, Governmentium (Gv), has one neutron, 25 assistant neutrons, 88 deputy neutrons, and 198 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312.
These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.
Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert; however, it can be detected, because it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact. A tiny amount of Governmentium can cause a reaction that would normally take less than a second, to take from 4 days to 4 years to complete.
Governmentium has a normal half-life of 2- 6 years. It does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places. In fact, Governmentium’s mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause more morons to become neutrons, forming isodopes.
This characteristic of moron promotion leads some scientists to believe that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a critical concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as critical morass.
When catalyzed with money, Governmentium becomes Administratium, an element that radiates just as much energy as Governmentium since it has half as many peons but twice as many morons.”
This is a most amazing discovery and Craig deserves kudos for reporting this to the blogging world. So head on over and let him know of your appreciation.
The grandkids are saying with us through the new years. They are always a treat and they find great ways to entertain themselves because we (me) are to old to try and keep up with them.
J-Man plays computer games. Bug reads and plays with MeMaw (Judy.) Judy has been their best play pal since they were old enough to have their first diaper changed.
So today, with the temperature in the 30’s and a slight breeze, the little shits - uh - darlings wanted to go for a walk. It was so enjoyable with our pink cheeks and snotty noses. We did about 2 miles thought the woods and around the subdivision before frostbite drove us back home.
But I did get to enjoy the fruits of my teachings when Bug flipped my ear, which was frozen solid. Note to self. Don’t tell them anything else about my childhood living in squalor and in desperate needs of ways to entertain our selves.
However one of the more positive things they do is make up games and plays and stuff. Aggravates the shit out of me…uh I love the way their minds play out.
So today the little shits, uh, kiddies decided to try public service as a means of torturing…I mean entertaining themselves.
So for lunch and dinner the kiddies opened a restaurant, Mario’s Game Lounge.
J-Man, the self titled Technical Specialist, went on the pc made up and printed out menus.
Bug got a little note book and goes to each of us and takes our order.
In the kitchen the orders are hanging by clothes pins from the cabinets like a short order restaurant. I had a choice of hamburgers, tacos, salad, spaghetti, grilled cheese, grilled ham and cheese with a dessert of pecan or sweet potato pie or rice krispies balls.
When we sat at the table, Bug brings us our plates (and a little chime on the oven goes off every few minutes signifying another meal is ready to serve) and she brings us utensils, napkins, salt and pepper or any other condiment we might need.
The chef, Judy, served what ever she made regardless of the order. She loves Gordon Ramsey and his culinary management.
For example, off the menu I ordered a taco and got an empty taco shell. I ordered a cheeseburger and got a stale bun with spaghetti sauce for hamburger meat covered with diced cheese. I would have been better off ordering spaghetti from the start, cause that’s what I got. That’s all Chef Judy made.
I don’t see a long longevity for Mario’s Game Lounge. But the kiddies will live to annoy…entertain us again. After all, we have them for 6 more days.
I am passing this on to you because I am always thinking of ways to make you, my peeps, life easier to live with, and it definitely worked for me today, and we all could probably use more calm in our lives! So, for me, give it a shot…uh…try.
Some doctor on the TV this morning said that the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started.
So I looked around my house to see things I'd started and hadn't finished and, before leaving the house this morning, I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of shhhardonay, a bodle of Baileys, abutle of vocka, a pockage of Pringlies, the res of the Chesescke a n a box a chocolets. Yu haf no idr ow frigin gud I fel. Peas sen dis orn to anyy yu fee ar in ned ov inr pece.
On my last post I had to list 10 things that make me happy. Today I received this so I would like to add these eight additional things that would make me happy (along with doing away with the electoral college and going with the popular vote.)
1. Term Limits: 12 years only, one of the possible options below. A. Two Six-year Senate terms B. Six Two-year House terms C. One Six-year Senate term and three Two-Year House terms Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term(s), then go home and back to work.
2. No Tenure / No Pension: A congressman collects a salary while in office and receives no pay when they are out of office. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term(s), then go home and back to work.
3. Congress (past, present & future) participates in Social Security: All funds in the Congressional retirement fund moves to the Social Security system immediately. All future funds flow into the Social Security system, Congress participates with the American people. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, server your term(s), then go home and back to work.
4. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan just as all Americans.Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term(s), then go home and back to work.
5. Congress will no longer vote themselves a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term(s), then go home and back to work.
6. Congress loses their current health care system and participates in the same health care system as the American people. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term(s), then go home and back to work.
7. Congress must equally abide in all laws they impose on the American people. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term(s), then go home and back to work.
8. All contracts with past and present congressmen are void effective 1/1/10. The American people did not make this contract with congressmen, congressmen made all these contracts for themselves. Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term(s), then go home and back to work.
But this will never happen becasue Congress is working for themselves, not the American people.
My friend, Jessica, over at Just Another Day gave me this present. It’s Jessica in her Christmas outfit.
Talk about the joy of Christmas Spirit.
Ain’t she cute.
Nah! She passed cute in the 5th grade. She is just plain hawt.
Jessica also gave me this award. I don't have 101 followers that admit they come by here. She said it was because I am so fucking awesome. No! Wait! She said I was funny. Poor thing. We will all pray for her and her since of humor. Now everyone bow your heads, please and silently pray to what ever God or being fits your needs.
Now, to receive this I have to do two things. Post 10 things that make me happy and pass this on to 10 others that I think should have it. Now remind me? These are rules, right? And I don’t do well with rules, right? So I will just post some things I like and any 10 of you that would like to have this award please take it with my blessings, gratitude and encouragement.
I have some awesome people who take a few minutes to come over to my site to read, laugh, get mad, throw up, masturbate or other stuff and I have a lot of respect and admiration for each and everyone of you, and I cannot, and will not, choose one over the other.
But if y’all want to jump in the pile and duke it out for the honor, then I’ll be as happy as a teenager in a whore house with his daddy’s credit card to watch you go at it. And if you do take this award, you do not have to tell anyone you got it from me. It might ruing your reputation.
Now - for the 10 things that makes me happy.
1. My grandkids! 2. Bing right! 3. Going to the Waffle House and shooting the shit with the waitresses and the regulars. 4. Driving anything on wheels; 2 to 18 of'um. 5. Reading! 6. Being Ignorant - there is bliss in that. 7. Blogging and reading the comments to my blog. 8. Reading y’all’s blogs and commenting on them. 9. Helping others (not for recognition, but for the sake of helping) 10, Hope and Faith (not the television sitcom) the two things that gets me through life and into the next day.
So now you have it. If you want the award, knock yourself out.
Well, all the Christmas stuff should be over by now. So I can tell you why I haven’t posted in a few days. I am sicker than John Kerry on election night.
I didn’t want to say anything for fear of ruining your Christmas. The though of you walking around in circles or from room to room wringing our hands and maybe a few tears running down your cheeks worrying about me and my health stopped me from posting. I’m giving and caring in that way. It’s all about you as far as I am concerned.
On Wednesday I started feeling bad, coughing and stuff. By Thursday morning my eyelids a very merry shad of red and matted shut, and I was coughing like I thought it was fun or something. The wife, at gun point, forced me to go to the urgent care center for my miracle cure. I told her that it would have been better to call Ernest Angley and have him send me a miracle cure prayer cloth, but she cocked the hammer.
I have an upper respiratory and sinus infection that was moving into my eyes. Thus the puss and drainage and stuff. I still participated in the family gathering, but went back to bed as soon as all the loot was passed out. It was fun and I loved having the family around, but I left Judy and the kids and kids in law playing board games on the kitchen table and went to bed.
Still feel like shit, but I am on the North Side Of The Dirt and that is a good thing.
Regardless of my problems, trials and tribulations, I hope you peeps had a great and happy Christmas and Hanukah. I don’t send Kwanza wishes because that is just a made up holiday that means nothing so I ignore it. And I hope you atheist out there enjoyed your materialist holidays, too.
I have been given a couple of awards and I will post them as soon as I feel like sitting here long enough to do it. Thank you, too, for the honor.
It’s not Christmas yet but I got a real cool gift today from my blogging buddy, Kanani Fong. It seems that she feels I went out of my way to helped her husband, David, get from one Army base to another.
Several people commented on the post I put up about the trip. But folks, I did nothing out of the ordinary. Well, in this day and time helping someone out may seem strange and above board. But that is not how I was raised. You just help out when you can and expect nothing in return. It’s a part of the Southern Hospitality you hear about.
Anyway, Kanani was appreciative enough to send me this gold coin.(I have to apologize about the quality of the pictures. My camera will not take National Geographic type photos, so dig out your magnifying glasses to view them clearly.)
On one side, in the middle is an Army emblem and the outside edge says across the top reads, “DEPARTMENT OF THE ARMY” and across the bottom, “UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.”
On the other side on the top, “IN APPRECATION OF EXCELLANCE” and in the middle, “John Coffey” “Warrior” “Sailor” “Friend”
This is a great gift for doing something as simple as helping a veteran in his efforts. I don’t deserve if, but I WILL cherish it.
As you long suffering readers of my site know, I am dedicated to the advancement of your educational needs. I want to you be smart…like me…kinda…
But I have been remise in my endeavors. I got tied up in Redneck Monday, actually reading others blogs and commenting regularly, doing animal transports and other shit, and just ran out of time to do the proper research needed to help you advance your thinking capabilities and vocabulary.
So today I will try to get back on track with two (no, not one, but two) submissions. Now clear you head, blow your nose if you have too, and start the absorption of knowledge…NOW:
Create a new word 2009 winners:
The Washington Post's Mensa Invitational once again asked readers to take any word from the dictionary, alter it by adding, subtracting, or changing one letter, and supply a new definition.
Here are the 2009 winners:
1. Cashtration n.: The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation: Coming back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone n.: The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11. Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon n.: The gruelling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler Effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
15. Arachnoleptic Fit n.: The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
16. Beelzebug n.: Satan in the form of a mosquito, that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
17. Caterpallor n.: The color you turn after finding half a worm in the fruit you're eating.
The Washington Post has also published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternate meanings for common words.
And the winners are:
1. Coffee, n. The person upon whom one coughs.
2. Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained.
3. Abdicate, v. To give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
4. Esplanade, v. To attempt an explanation while drunk.
5. Lymph, v. To walk with a lisp.
6. Gargoyle, n. Olive-flavored mouthwash.
7. Flatulence, n. Emergency vehicle that picks up someone who has been run over by a steamroller.
8. Balderdash, n. A rapidly receding hairline.
9. Oyster, n. A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.
10. Frisbeetarianism, gn. The belief that, after death, the soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.
There! Now don't you feel smarter and ready to take on the world and talk intelligently to anyone you meet? I know I does!
I watch all their specials and would love to see them in person.
O Holy Night is my favorite Christmas song. I love the John Berry’s version I posted last Christmas, but YouTube pulled it at, I assume, John or his handlers request. So enjoy this one before YouTube pulls it, too.
I should have posted this on Friday night, but I was just too tired. Then I had to post about my Secrete Santa. Plus I had to do the Santa thing at Pet Smart, so I am just getting around to it.
My blogging buddy, Kanani over at The Kitchen Dispatch is the wife of an Army surgeon who has been stationed in some forward area in Afghanistan as part of a surgical trauma unit. He and his team for professionals deserve the title, and truly are, Heroes.
His name is David and he is home - kinda. After a five day trip, he finally arrived at Fort Benning in Columbus, GA, on the Alabama border, to process back into the States and turn in some equipment. Benning is the CONUS departure and receivng area for most of the East Cost. I drove down to meet him and help him in any way possible. Luckly for me there wasn’t much for me to do because he is a squared away man.
I knew I would have to drive around and find the building to get a temporary permit to drive on the base, which is HUGE, so I called my old Navy buddy Earl, who, at 75, still works full time for a company who services all the eating places on the base. With Earl driving his truck with the proper widow decals, we were able to drive directly to David’s location. From there, we went back to my truck and had a cup of coffee and some good ‘jaw-jacking’ with Earl and saw some awesome pictures from David’s time in Ass-crack-astan.
We then headed on a cross-state run to deliver him to his home base at Fort Stewart, just outside of Savannah, GA, on the South Carolina border. It was a four and a half hour drive, in the rain, in the traffic. But he made the time fly by with his interesting conversations.
The man truly loves his work and bragged to no end about his team of doctors, and medics. It doubled my belief in the quality of men and women we have serving our country. For example, you remember all the posting and interest in FOB Keating? David and his team worked on the more seriously wounded from that debacle. He talked about it in a soft voice. He cares.
Anyway, we finally got him settled into his apartment on base.
And he was so thankful; he showed me how much in the good old Army way.
We then retrieved his car from the storage area and I left him to contact Kanani and get some much needed sleep.
But that is also why I said he was home - kinda. He will be flying out to Califorina to be with his family for Christmas. Then he will be home.
But it was such a treat to have met such a caring and giving man as LCOL David Anderson - a true American Hero.
This year I joined a group of people (and maybe some dogs or something - yah never know) involved in a Secret Santa gift giving. Two awesome ladies, Amy and Georgie, are the instigators, uh, administrators of the effort, and it had to be an exhausting enterprise to say the least. Anyway, one of the requirements is to post about your gift when it arrives.
I don’t know who my Secret Santa is, but he, she or it really did the job right in my case.
Below are the THREE (3), gifts sent to me. Ain’t they purty?
These is the same gifts (did I say 3?) opened. They are freaking awesome. The t-shirt says, “I’m not a Doctor, but I’ll take a look anyway.” Is that me or what? I’m always willing to do breast and pelvic exams. And I also keep a pretty sharp pocket knife in my pocket of any impromptu pap smears that need to be made.
And the Civil War book, “Campaigns of the Civil War - A Photographic History” is perfect as I am a huge fan of anything relating to the Campaign of Northern Aggression and the illegal trespassing of those Godless Yankees on our Southern Sacred Soil. And more important - it has pictures, my favorite form of reading (next to audio books.)
And there is a box of Anthony-Thomas’s Buckeyes, a peanut butter and Milk Chocolate candies that are officially licensed by The Ohio State University. So I guess not all Yankees are Godless.
And the beautiful card says on the outside, “Ho, Ho, Ho” - three of my favorite type ladies.
And the inside says, “Oh! Oh! Oh! Wishing you a Holiday Season filled with Faith, Hope and Love.” And hand written “Merry Christmas from your favorite blogging buddy, Secret Santa!!”
Now is that cool or what.
So, who ever your are, I thank you very much. If you are a woman I’ll give you some, if you are a man I’ll buy you a cup of coffee or a cold beer, and if you are a dog or something, I’ll give you a huge hug and a belly rub.
The wife and I were at Wal Mart picking up some stuff for stocking stuffers. She noticed a display of blue jeans for $8.00 a pair.
There are a few things you need to know before I go on.
First of all I HATE to shop for anything except groceries. HATE IT!
Second, I only wear blue jeans or shorts. I have a couple of slack type pants for special occasions, but I go no where special, so they just hang in the closet. I own one suit that gets worn maybe once a year.
I have two pair of jeans that do not have holes in the knees. I like holes. It gives the jeans character. All are comfortable and fit the way I like them. They are family to me, and well taken care of in their old age.
Judy wants me to have some new jeans. She argues that most of my jeans have holes and the two who don’t are faded and worn looking.
I told her to not talk so loud and to be nice. I was wearing one of my holey jeans and the senior member of my jean collection would get his feelings hurt. She scoffed.
And an argument ensued - right in the middle of Wal Mart. But no one paid any attention, of course. It is Wal Mart, after all. But we argued because I don’t want to buy jeans right here at Christmas. The kiddies need stuff. She needs stuff. I need nothing.
So I told her that in no way was I spending any money on a cheap pair of jeans just because the are on sale for $8 per. I don’t want the Goddamn things. Read my lips, Dammit. It’s my final word, NO! And I walked off.
She’s pissed, too. Call’s me names, tells me not to go by the Sports department because there are knives and pool sticks and things she can use on me. But, Dammit I have spoken.
So now I have two new pairs of jeans. I’ll even wear one pair tonight when I go to the kiddies school band Christmas concert. I know! I will be hot and all the ladies will be eyeing my studly pair of $8 jeans and daydreaming. Sorry girls! You will just have to suffer and wish. Why not…that’s what I do when I see one of you in a great pair of jeans. It’s payback time.
ONLY AN ITALIAN MAN CAN MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE A WOMAN...
On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning. One woman in particular is terrified.
Screaming, she stands up in the front of the plane. 'I'm too young to die', she wails. Then she yells, 'Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on earth to be memorable! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?'
For a moment there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril. They all stare, riveted, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane.
Then an Italian man stands up in the rear of the plane. He is handsome, tall, well built, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time.
No one moves. He removes his shirt, muscles rippling across his chest.
He walks right up to her, so close she can feel and smell his breath, and looks her straight in the eyes and says.....
'Here - Iron this, and get me something to eat....' . . .
It is near the Christmas break of the school year. The students have turned in all their work and there is really nothing more to do. All the children are restless and the teacher decides to have an early dismissal.
Teacher: "Whoever answers the questions I ask, first and correctly can leave early today."
Little Johnny says to himself "Good, I want to get outta here. I'm smart and will answer the question."
Teacher: "Who said 'Four Score and Seven Years Ago'?"
Before Johnny can open his mouth, Susie says, "Abraham Lincoln."
Teacher: "That's right Susie, you can go home."
Johnny is mad that Susie answered the question first.
Teacher: "Who said 'I Have a Dream'?"
Before Johnny can open his mouth, Mary says, "Martin Luther King."
Teacher: "That's right Mary, you can go."
Johnny is even madder than before.
Teacher: "Who said 'Ask not, what your country can do for you'?"
Before Johnny can open his mouth, Nancy says, "John F. Kennedy."
Teacher: "That's right Nancy , you may also leave."
Johnny is boiling mad that he has not been able to answer to any of the questions.
When the teacher turns her back Johnny says, "I wish these bitches would keep their mouths shut!"
2) Are yer parents retarded? Cuz ya sure are special.
3) My Love fer you is like diarrhea. I can't hold it in.
4) Do you have a library card? Cuz I'd like to sign you out.
5) Is there a mirror in yer pants? Cuz I can see myself in em.
6) If you was a tree and I were a Squirrel, I' d store my nuts in yer hole.
7) You might not be the best lookin girl here, but beauty's only a light switch away.
8) Man - "Fat Penguin!" Woman - "WHAT?" Man - "I just wanted to say something that would break the ice."
9) I know I'm not no Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make yer bed-rock.
10) I can't find my puppy, can you help me find him? I think he went inta this cheap motel room.
11) Yer eyes are as blue as window cleaner.
12) If yer gunna regret this in the mornin, we kin sleep till afternoon.
13) Yer face reminds me of a wrench, every time I think of it my nuts tighten up.
14) Your eyes are as pretty as two hen turds in a bowl of clabber.
15) Darlin', your ears are a cut as mud-flaps on a gopher’s ass.
Now I know you ladies are swooning already, but pull yourself together. I wasn’t applying my Southern Redneck charm directly at you. I was just giving you an example of what to expect when you meet some of us good ole boys. When you do, THEN you can let the ‘panty puddin’ begin. . .
(The painting is of my ship, USS Frank E. Evans DD754, heading to her last assignment - and death)
For years I have been trying to come up with the words that explains my experience in the Navy. Then, today, I get this email from my friend and former shipmate, Chuck. This is so dead on that I had to post it. I also found a passage from Psalms in the bible that adds somehting to this post. It is at the bottom.
Old Salts of The Navy. . . . . . . .
I liked standing on the bridge wing at sunrise with salt spray in my face and clean ocean winds whipping in from the four quarters of the globe - the ship beneath me feeling like a living thing as her engines drove her swiftly through the sea.
I liked the sounds of the Navy - the piercing trill of the boatswains pipe, the syncopated clangor of the ship's bell on the quarterdeck, the harsh squawk of the 1MC, and the strong language and laughter of sailors at work. I liked Navy vessels - nervous darting destroyers, plodding fleet auxiliaries and amphibs, sleek submarines and steady solid aircraft carriers.
I liked the proud names of Navy ships: Midway, Lexington, Saratoga, Coral Sea, Antietam , Valley Forge - memorials of great battles won and tribulations overcome. I liked the lean angular names of Navy "tin-cans" and "escorts" - Barney, Dahlgren, Mullinix, McCloy, Damato, Leftwich, Mills, Vance, Evans and the Manley - mementos of heroes who went before us. And the others - San Jose, San Diego, Atlanta, Los Angeles, St. Paul, Chicago - named for our cities.
I liked the tempo of a Navy band blaring through the topside speakers as we pulled away from the oiler after refueling at sea. I liked liberty call and the spicy scent of a foreign port. I even liked the never-ending paperwork and all-hands working parties as my ship filled herself with the multitude of supplies, both mundane and to cut ties to the land and carry out her mission anywhere on the globe where there was water to float her.
I liked sailors, officers and enlisted men from all parts of the land; farms of the Midwest, small towns of New England, from the cities, the mountains and the prairies, from all walks of life. I trusted and depended on them as they trusted and depended on me - for professional competence, for comradeship, for strength and courage. In a word, they were "shipmates"; then and forever.
I liked the surge of adventure in my heart, when the word was passed: "Now set the special sea and anchor detail - all hands to quarters for leaving port," and I liked the infectious thrill of sighting home again, with the waving hands of welcome from family and friends waiting pier side. The work was hard and dangerous; the going rough at times; the parting from loved ones painful, but the companionship of robust Navy laughter, the "all for one and one for all" philosophy of the sea was ever present.
I liked the serenity of the sea after a day of hard ship's work, as flying fish flitted across the wave tops and sunset gave way to night. I liked the feel of the Navy in darkness - the masthead and range lights, the red and green navigation lights and stern light, the pulsating phosphorescence of radar repeaters - they cut through the dusk and joined with the mirror of stars overhead.
I liked drifting off to sleep lulled by the myriad noises large and small that told me that my ship was alive and well, and that my shipmates on watch would keep me safe. I liked quiet mid-watches with the aroma of strong coffee - the life-blood of the Navy - permeating everywhere.
I liked hectic watches when the exacting minuet of haze-gray shapes racing at flank speed kept all hands on a razor edge of alertness. I liked the sudden electricity of "General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations," followed by the hurried clamor of running feet on ladders and the resounding thump of water-tight doors as the ship transformed herself in a few brief seconds from a peaceful workplace to a weapon of war - ready for anything. And I liked the sight of space-age equipment manned by youngsters clad in dungarees and sound-powered phones that their grandfathers would still recognize.
I liked the traditions of the Navy and the men and women who made them. I liked the proud names of Navy heroes: Halsey, Nimitz, Perry, Farragut, John Paul Jones and Burke. A sailor could find much in the Navy: comrades-in-arms, pride in self and country, mastery of the seaman's trade. An adolescent could find adulthood.
In years to come, when sailors are home from the sea they will still remember with fondness and respect the ocean in all its moods - the impossible shimmering mirror calm and the storm-tossed green water surging over the bow. And then there will come again a faint whiff of stack gas, a faint echo of engine and rudder orders, a vision of the bright bunting of signal flags snapping at the yardarm, a refrain of hearty laughter in the wardroom and chief's quarters and mess decks.
Gone ashore for good they will grow wistful about their Navy days, when the seas belonged to them and a new port of call was ever over the horizon. Remembering this, they will stand taller and say, "I WAS A SAILOR ONCE AND WOULD DO IT AGAIN."
Psalms 107:23-30 "Those who go down to the sea in ships, who do business on great waters, they see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep. For He commands and raises the stormy wind, which lifts up the waves of the sea. They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths; their soul melts because of trouble. They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits' end. Then they cry out to the Lord in their trouble, and He brings them out of their distresses. He calms the storm, so that its waves are still. Then they are glad because they are quiet; so He guides them to their desired haven."