It Happened To ME - TWICE

For over a year, now, I have been blogging and reading blogs. I have been amazed and gratified in reading post and comments from some of the most talented and funniest group of people anyone could ever be fortunate enough to be a part of. I wish I had just a touch of the talent, intelligence and writing ability you people possess.

That is why, to my surprise, I was not only selected as a Best Bloger Buddy award, but I was selected twice on the same day.

X 2

Marni, at It’s a Pug’s Life, and Katy, at Her Indoors, both bestowed this on me. I am honored and grateful. I think I owe them money or something, but, still, I got the awards.
And part of the award is that I have to select seven, that’s 7, people to pass this award on to. But since I got two of them, I get to do 14. And that isn’t easy, either.

I chose the 14 because they post regularly and interact with me on some level. I read over 40 sites a day so those that are not mentioned, please don’t be offended. I can only do so much with so little. So, if the feelings are not hurt, here goes:

1. brother dave, my liberal democrat from the left coast. I’ll convert him, or die trying. He is funny and sarcastic. If he was a woman I would marry him.
2. coopergreen, the original lying bastard. I think he is very talented with words, and I will, yet, teach him to curse (cuss).
3. crazy cat woman, whom I admire for her guts in handling her emotional problems while still being a good mother and raising a great family. Here’s a pill to ya, hon.
4. e.crag, my very talented friend who’s only think against him is that he is brother dave’s twin brother. Bless their mom.
5. gawilli who has some cool pictures and great stories, though she looses me when she talks music, which is one of her loves.
6. family tree junkie – teri my new friend, even though she is from New Jersey, she has roots in the South, and a funny sister to boot.
7. Miss Heidi, from Hick Chick, who is one of the most enjoyable reads. She is so talented and deeper than even she knows. She and Jethro would be a pleasure to meet in person – as would all you dudes and dudets.
8. Jim Latchford, my newest friend who is never read. He has some good ideas and comments and should be read more.
9. Mary Taitt of No Polar Coordnance, who is a very talented artist and always pleased me with her photos and paintings. I wish talent rubbed off on people because, if it did, I would be on her like a duck on a June bug. I would love to be able to paint and draw like she does.
10. old lady, who is a very talented writer and has the best stories of old town and grave yards. Even though she is married to an ex-Marine.
11. rwa, another new friend and talented person. I love his radio show and his postings. He makes you think – even though I get headaches.
12. hoosiergal, J. She is my new feminist friend who want’s to… what with me? Castrate, slap, hug, kiss, have my children, what?
13. that girl – Tina, the funny sister mentioned above. She is an ex-USFA lady and that is good enough for me. But she is so much more and that makes her a joy to read.
14. Special K, another new friend that is both funny and entertaining.
Clew Blues, new, too. She tickles me more and more.
Twist-o-lemon, funny in a very open and abrupt way.

Let me see, how many more number 14’s can I use. There are just too many of you. Sorry!

Santa's Second Week - One More To Go

Here are some pictures I made last Saturday. They are made with my camera and no one knows how to zoom in to get rid of the background food supply.

This one I made of ground control. From the left is Dr. Amber, Sweet Tea, Bug, Major Tom of Ground Control (Rick) and a customer in awe of our setup.

 

This is my two elves, Bug and J-Man. They really worked hard, too. They walked the dogs, petted all the dogs and cats that came by, and inspected every item on the shelves, in the fish tanks and in the cat room. We could't have made it without their support and help.

 

This is Ruger. His only goal in life is to eat and be petted. The looks fierce, but is such a baby. Much like me.

 

Now to tell you about some of the people who come through the store. One little guy came by me riding on his heelies. You know. The sneakers with wheels in the heel? He came up to me to say hello.

“Hey, Santa!”

“Hey, bud! What’s your name?”

“Darnell”

“Man, Darnell, I would like to have a pair of heelies like that.”

“Well, Wal Mart has a pair that would fit you.”

“I bet they do, too. But I can’t find a pair with training wheels on them.”

He just gave a toothless grin and punched me on the arm and said, “Santa, you’re sooo silly.” And skated off. Little shit! Punching Santa! Humph!

The little kids who come through are awed and half are afraid to come see me. But they are so cute.

Every now and then a real nice tight fitting pair of jeans will come through. It’s much better than looking at the backs of dog’s heads all day. Thanks, ladies! Rick and I appreciate it. Ho! Ho! Ho!

Then there are the people who are wwaaaaayyyy to fat to wear short shorts and shirts that show too much midriff. I have to assume there are no mirrors in their homes.

A few come through in the full regalia complete with sequins or rinestones. Six inch heels, tight jeans or short skirts, sexy blouses and a jacket, even though it is 70 degrees outside.

We also see the pet lovers who stop and tell you all about their fostering achievements and animal rescue efforts because they are wonderful people who will have a special place in heaven. I hope it’s in the kennels there.

But most of the people coming in make it worth it. They are nice and appreciative and understand what is actually going on. They even thank Santa for his efforts and make nice comments. I just tell them to blow it out their asses and get this damn dog off my lap. It stinks and you both of you need to take a bath.

Sunday my arms were sore because I had a great many large dogs and I had to strain to keep them sitting beside me, or between my legs or in my lap until a decent picture can be made. One mastiff mix just climbed into my lap and set down on my arm and I had to hold him by the butt for several seconds. It was so funny. He was a true lap dog. There were several poses with two or three lab size dogs. Lab’s are not made to sit and pose. You have to keep a gentle pressure on their sides to keep them where you want them. And their heads are in constant motion. That’s when the little ball peen hammer comes in handy. Glad my suite is red. The most I had to pose with was four big dogs of different breeds.

Then there are the cats. Cats don’t pose. Cats climb. I found out that if I just let them set on my legs and I hold them gently, like a vice grip, by the hips, they will stay put long enough to get a picture. But they have a mind of their own and all the squeaky toys and box shaking you do to get their attention is useless.

Anyway, that’s about it for now. I won’t bother you with this stuff anymore. Except next weekend! I will have pictures of my dogs to show you. After that, no more Santa shit.

Those Were The Days

Amy, over at Mish Mash, wrote about her hard ass and her first grade experience, so I thought I would tell you about my seventh grade endeavor to be like my older brothers. Back in the 50's Atlanta there were no kindergartens or middle schools. You started the first grade and went through the seventh grade in elementary school. Then you went to high school, starting in the eighth grade (as a sub-freshman.)

My seventh grade teacher, Mrs. Stringfellow, pulled hair if you misbehaved. One day she came down the isle and grabbed me by the hair and shook my head telling me to stop talking in class. That afternoon, when I got home, one of my older brothers (10 and 15 years older) rubbed my head and said, “How’d it go today, squirt?”

I must have flinched, because he asked me what was wrong. I told him Mrs. Stringfellow had pulled my hair. He said something like; you probably deserved it, too. But when I walked out of the room I heard him tell my other brother, “If the bitch did that to me I would knock her teeth out.” That was good enough for me. If my brothers thought that was the thing to do, then it had to be the right thing. I mean, they were older and wiser.

The next day, down the row she came, grabbed a handful of hair and started shaking my head like a dog with an old shoe (guess I really got on her nerves sometimes.) So, I gave her an uppercut that caused her to bit her tongue. My feet didn’t touch the floor until I was in the Principle’s office. Then I was suspended for three days and kick out of school like an old drunk being thrown out of the saloon in a western movie (okay that was an exaggeration.) But I was suspended and my mom beat my butt, my dad beat my butt and my brother beat my butt for telling mom it was his fault. I walked funny for those three days.

But when I went back to school I had a “flat-top” haircut - complete with Butch Hair Wax. Let the bitch try and grab me by the hair now. So she used my ears. That's why, if you look at my head from behind, it looks like a car with the doors open.

Those were the days. I wonder what would happen to Mrs. Stringfellow if she pulled hair today. Maybe a coffeypot wanna-be would pop a cap in her ass. Or the PTA would burn her at the stake. Or the ACLU would sue her for denying the wanna-be their Constitutional Rights of Free Speech. But I do know that my mom and dad would still have beat my butt. That was their favorite pastime.

Try Again, Dammit

Now, read the post below and pulg in the where it needs to be here.

 

 

Well You Ask For IT

I think this will work this time.

This is the BEFORE picture made on the deck of a cruse ship in Tampa.

(See the Picture Above)

This is the AFTER picture made last Sunday. See what I mean about being a SANTA SUCK?

(See the Other Picture Above)

That's Monster. She is Dr. Amber's little piece of hell. She hates everyone except Amber, but she will let someone hold her if Amber put her in you lap. Except children. I believe she would drag a 75lb child into a cage and eat it. She hates kids.

If you want more pictures, I'll make some on Saturday.

Ramblings of a Retired Mind

My brother, Stephen, sent this to me. He’s old, too, but younger than me, the asshole. So he though I might enjoy this. He was wrong.

Ramblings of a Retired Mind

I was thinking about how a status symbol of today is those cell phones that everyone has clipped onto their belt or purse. I can't afford one. So, I'm wearing my garage door opener. I also made a cover for my hearing aid and now I have what they call blue teeth, I think.

You know, I spent a fortune on deodorant before I realized that people didn't like me anyway.

I was thinking that women should put pictures of missing husbands on beer cans!

I was thinking about old age and decided that old age is 'when you still have something on the ball, but you are just too tired to bounce it.'

I thought about making a fitness movie, for folks my age, and call it "Pumping Rust."

I have gotten that dreaded furniture disease. That's when your chest is falling into your drawers!

I know, when people see a cat's litter box, they always say, "Oh, have you got a cat?"
Just once I want to say, "No, it's for company!"

Employment application blanks always ask who is to be notified in case of an emergency.' I think you should write, "A Good Doctor!"

Why do they put pictures of criminals up in the Post Office? What are we supposed to do... write to these men? Why don't they just put their pictures on the postage stamps so the mailmen could look for them while they deliver the mail? Or better yet, arrest them while they are taking their pictures!

I was thinking a bout how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older. Then it dawned on me, they were cramming for their finals.

As for me, I'm just hoping God grades on the curve.



Enjoy Your Days, Love Your Life because:

“Life is a journey to be savored"

I'm Frustrated

Dammit, dammit, dammit!

I hate you techno-friendly people who can do shit on your blog and make it enjoyable. All I can do is type out a few stupid words and hope that someone somewhere understands what I am trying to say and either be offended or not offended. I don’t care which as long as you have a reaction of some kind and will note it in the comments. So all you people who can post pictures and stuff, BITE ME!

I have a few goofy pictures made this weekend at the Pet Smart. But I cannot get the goddamn things from my Kodak Picture Albums to this blog site. I suck at this and I am frustrated to no end. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it, and, oh, yeah, FUCK IT!

So let me just answer some of your comments here so this won’t be a total waste of blog space. I’ll start by saying I didn’t know how much of a Santa Suck I am. Last year the pictures were made on a Polaroid camera. It is provided by Pet Smart, so we didn’t have a choice. This year PS changed to a small digital camera and a $1.15 printer which takes about three minuets to print each picture – with sometimes 10 or 12 people waiting with their dogs (who most times are trying to eat each other.). Our store is very lucky in that one of the volunteers who comes by every week to walk dogs and help out anyway he can, is also a salesman in real like of anything computer related for Cisco. He became very discussed with the quality of the pictures the store provided camera gave, so he went home and brought back his professional stuff. We are making the best quality photos of any PS store in the nation. But that also brings about a problem. Last year I couldn’t see myself very well. This year, if I look down at the animal at the time of the click, I look like I’m asleep. I did not know this on Saturday because I didn’t see any of the pictures. I saw few yesterday and I look like I am sleeping on the job. I am actually trying to get the best view of the dog and they don’t tell me when they are ready. Dammit!

To Pamela, that isn’t me in the photo you sent over, and I don’t make that good looking of a Santa.

Skippymom, Yes and no! I have been nipped a few times while trying to get a picture made. Some of the dogs are afraid of the all-red man with all the white hair on his face and head. It isn’t natural to them (or me) and they are just a little afraid. I try to get the owner to stand next to me and let the dog smell my hand before I try to pet it. Then we work it into my lap. Some of the dogs just jump into the lap and pose. Folks, NEVER EVER reach for a dog you don’t know or who doesn’t know you. Always slowly lower you hand to his nose and let him smell you first. It is the safest way to become acquainted. Unless, of course, you want to do it naturally their way and get down on all fours and sell each others ass. I prefer the hand method, myself.

Dr. Amber did have a small dog that she and I had to tell people all day long not to stick their fingers in the cage. She would try to bit them without a warning growl or bearing of the teeth. Outside the cage she would be just as loving as can be, but she was abused in her pin at the shelter she came from by the caretakers (minimum security prisoners working for the county.) Anyway, I spent the slow periods talking to her and rubbing her nose and the side of her mouth. She would whine and gently gnaw on my finger. After it was over, I came back to say goodbye to her, not even thinking that I wasn’t in the getup anymore, and she bit my left index finger pretty bad. I have cuts from my middle knuckle to the fingernail (and that is bruised) that did bleed for a while. But it wasn’t serious, and it was my own stupid fault. We laughed about it, too, because of all the warnings we gave to other people. Duh!

Clew, I would say go for it. It’s not that expensive and the shelter will benefit and you will have a cute picture. Some people were going to some of the copy shops and having Christmas cards made from the pictures. That is scary that my ugly Santa will be going all over the world. But if you are at the Pet Smart in Gwinnett on Ventura Blvd in Atlanta, drop by for a chat and a photo.

Have I said enough beside, damn, damn, fuck? Okay, bye!

I'm Santa Again This Year

Well, it’s been decided. I will be the store Santa at the Pet Smart again this year. I start on Saturday and it will last for the next three weeks, every Saturday and Sunday. I am sooo fucking happy about this. Maybe the world will come to an end before Saturday (it can’t come to an end today because it already tomorrow in Australia.) Maybe the Muslims will not let the American people have Christmas this year, since we are such infidels.

The things I will do to help my family. Maybe I should have been an inattentive, abusive father and step-father. They might not like me, but I would have my Saturdays and Sundays to myself. Much like I do with my Mondays thru Fridays.

I did it last year to raise money for Dr. Amber’s pet rescue organization. You get two Polaroid pictures and two small, cheap frames for, I don’t know, $5.00 or something like that. People really like to do this with their beloved pets. They use the pictures to decorate the Christmas tree, or to send to friends and relatives. Personally, I’d rather have cash or a check. But it’s not about me. Dammit!

I’ve had my picture in a Santa Clause outfit made with every size and breed of dog there is. There were some in my lap, some sitting beside me. I’ve had four dogs at once in my lap. I’ve had them pee on me and the floor. No one has shit on me yet - because I can throw a 20 lb dog halfway across the store.

And the cats!!! I am going to wear leather arm protectors under the arm sleeve this year. Sitting for photos with a strange man with fuzzy whiskers is not one of the most endearing things a cat likes to do. Some of those beasts can leave claw marks on a stainless steel pole – and climb all the way to the top, too.

I’ve had my picture made with ferrets, macaws, parakeets and a skunk. I’ve had my picture made with kids in my lap holding their pets. I have even had petty young ladies sit in my lap with their pets. But they didn’t sit around long enough to talk about “the first thing to come up.” So much for perks!

But I guess it is for a good cause. Dr. Amber is totally dedicated to the spay and neuter programs, and saving as many animals she can. She has contacts all over the country and helps rescue organizations match up with good families. So the money she raises from this effort does some good. So I guess I’ll do it again this year. Dammit!

Steven and Laura

Sweet Tea’s son, Steven, who lives with us in the basement apartment, got married to his sweet heart, Laura, last night. It was a very simple occasion. We went to the Justice Center in Cherokee County and had a judge perform the service. He was very personable and wore a Grinch tie. Or a tie with the Grinch in a Santa outfit on it.

Steven is so laid back that he would have been just as happy if all he had to do was step over a broom. But Laura wanted some semblance to a wedding. She comes from a very religious family and this was kind of a compromise. Neither Laura nor Steven wanted a church wedding, and all the marriage thingies that cost so much and only pleases the bride and her mother. It was a compromise because, plan two was for me to marry them. I am an ordained minister, you know, just for occasions like this.

Sweet Tea and I, Steven’s father, Sal and Laura’s parents and two sisters were present. It was very nice and they both smiled like a jackass eating briers the whole time. Steven, who is brilliant when it comes to computers and fixing things, is very shy and quiet. He looked so funny kissing his new bride and everyone with a camera made him repeat it over and over until he said he was just going to kiss her until we told him we were finished. He finally came up for air when I suggested we all go to the restaurant for the wedding dinner without telling him we were finished taking pictures.

I don’t know what I am going to do with the new broom I bought for the occasion, though. Maybe that’s fodder for another blog – if anyone is interested in what to do with a new, unused broom, that is. Besides sweep something into a pile, I mean.

We went to Laura’s favorite restaurant, Las Palmas, for a very delicious Mexican meal. I love my polo with rice and beans and guacamole salad – and plenty of sweet tea. I wanted a Dos XX but, in respect for the bible thumpers, I stayed with the tea. Only because it was Steven and Laura’s dinner. Otherwise…

Anyway, they are so cute and work so well together that I believe they will be together forever. There may be no kids, because Laura is a bad diabetic and they are afraid to try. She did mention something about adopting one day. We’ll see. But they will be together for a long time. Why, they actually talk to each other – about everything. Amazing! They do it without a blog too. Can you believe it?

Tater People

This was also sent to me. Which one are you?

Some people never seem motivated to participate, but are just content to watch while others do the work. They are called “Spec Taters.”

Some people never do anything to help, but are gifted at finding fault with the way others do the work. They are called “Comment Taters.”

Some people are very bossy and like to tell others what to do, but don’t want to soil their own hands. They are called “Dick Taters.”

Some people are always looking to cause problems by asking others to agree with them. It is too hot or too cold, too sour or too sweet. They are called “Agie Taters.”

There are those who say they will help, but somehow just never get around to actually doing the promised help. They are called “Hezzie Taters.”

Some people can put up a front and pretend to be someone they are not. They are called “Emma Taters.”

Then there are those who love others and do what they say they will. They always prepared to stop whatever they are doing and lend a helping hand. They bring real sunshine into the lives of others. They are called “Sweet Taters.”

What kind of Tater are you. I think I am a “Spechezziesweet Tater.”

The Law Is The Law

After reading Twist O Lemon on my blog role, I decided to post this email I received from one of my friends.

I’m not overly religious, but I do not believe it is the Governments place to regulate the timeless traditions of those who are. We are a Christian Nation who allows others to worship as they please. So, the below makes since to me.

It won’t happen because the laws are for everyone else but them – Democratic and Republican alike. But maybe it will give you something to think about.
*****
So if the US government determines that it is against the law for the words "under God" to be on our money, then, so be it.

And if that same government decides that the "Ten Commandments" are not to be used in or on a government installation, then, so be it.

I say, "…so be it," because I would like to be a law abiding US citizen.

I say, "…so be it," because I would like to think that smarter people than I are in positions to make good decisions. I would like to think that those people have the American public's best interests at heart.

BUT, YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE I'D LIKE?

Since we can't pray to God, can't Trust in God and cannot post His Commandments in Government buildings, I don't believe the Government and its employees should participate in the Easter and Christmas celebrations which honor the God that our government is eliminating from many facets of American life.

I'd like my mail delivered on Christmas, Good Friday, Thanksgiving and Easter. After all, it's just another day.

I'd like for the US Supreme Court to be in session on Christmas, Good Friday, Thanksgiving and Easter as well as Sundays. After all, it's just another day.

I'd like the Senate and the House of Representatives to not have to worry about getting home for the "Christmas Break." After all it's just another day.

I'm thinking that a lot of my taxpayer dollars could be saved if all government offices and services would work on Christmas, Good Friday and Easter. It shouldn't cost any overtime since those would be just like any other day of the week to a government that is trying to be "politically correct."

In fact....

I think that our government should work on Sundays (initially set aside for worshipping God...) because, after all, our government says that it should be just another day....

What do you all think????

If this idea gets to enough people, maybe our elected officials will stop giving in to the "minority opinions" and begin, once again, to represent the "majority" of ALL of the American people.

SO BE IT...........

My Thanksgiving and Afterward

I’m having a great "Black Friday" and I had a great Thanksgiving, too. I started Thanksgiving out by sleeping in late; then drinking a couple cups of coffee while going through my blog list.

Then I went to the Waffle House to have some biscuits and gravy and bacon. One of the ladies who waitresses part-time waited on me. I don’t get to see her much because she works three jobs. She helps small businesses get automated by updating their computer systems and accounting flows. She sells something like Magic Chef or Avon or something, and she works as a waitress. I don’t know what has happened in her life to have her in a position like that, but she is always smiling, very friendly to me, and we swap books every now and then. I love her to death.

She made my day by buying me breakfast. She happens to be the only black lady among a group of pill popping, booze drinking, snaggled tooth women who complain all the time, and she is smarter that the whole group put together. But she seems to think I am nice or something. Boy have I got her fooled. Little does she know that I am a lecherous old fart, but I just can’t remember why.

Later on that morning Sweet Tea called to wish me Happy Thanksgiving. And then I went to pick up my sister, Mary, and take her out for a late Thanksgiving dinner. She is 78 years-old and isn’t in the best of shape. She is a bad diabetic and passes out at least twice a week. But she is more like my mother that the real one was, and I would do anything for her.

My younger “sister”, Stephen, also came along. He is suffering with Parkinson’s and won’t be able to drive much longer. I told him I bet he really gets confused when he goes to the bathroom because his hand shakes so much. He leaves happy, drained and satisfied, but he doesn’t understand why.

Marni, Carl, J-Man and Bug also joined us. I love these occasions because my family laughs. We laugh and joke about our ailments and situations and each other. Marni can attest to the fact that she got her humor honestly. We believe that, if you can’t laugh at yourself and your life, then you are probably adopted.

After the dinner, J-Man asked to come home with me. Bug loves when J-Man does this because it means quality time with mom and dad without pesky brother around. I kind of like it a little bit, too.

When we got home, he immediately got a cardboard box and cut out a rifle and knife. I helped him fix the knife so that it would fit on the end of the rifle, and he turned over a few small tables and spread cushions and cardboard around and made a fort. So, while I watched football, he fought of scores of “enemy” solders and made it safe for us in Woodstock.

So now it is "Black Friday." Why they call it that is beyound me - unless it has somehting to do with an accounting term that means you have made a profit (vs being in the red.) J-Man and I went to, guess, yep, Waffle House. We then went riding around the lake and talked about how you can see the rivers that make up the lake now that it is soooo low. We then road up to Kennesaw Mountain, Cheatham Hill, and Kolb Farm and talked about life during the Civil War. He loves history as much as I do.

We then met Marni and I dropped him off. It’s quiet now and I am wishing the kiddies and Sweet Tea were here. But people in Hell want ice water, too. Some things just can’t be.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving, a day early, to those of you who observe this tradition. The rest of you from other countries, man, you don't know what you are missing. Best eating than any other time of the year. Even if it is at the Waffle House.

It is a time to hold those you love and have them close by. For those serving our country, God Bless you guys and gals. Thank you for you sacrifices in keeping us safe and able to enjoy this time of the year, and a prayer for each of you and your families will be forthcoming.

Now, pass the turkey!

Fifty Years of Math

A friend sent this to me and I think she wanted to post it, but was a little shy and concerned that it may offend someone. Pffftttt! Like I give a hairy rat’s ass! So here 'tis:

Fifty Years of Math 1957 to 2007

Last week I purchased a burger at Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl took my $2 and I was digging for my change when I pulled 8 cents from my pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, holding the nickel and 3 pennies, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me two quarters, but she hailed the manager for help. While he tried to explain the transaction to her, she stood there and cried. Why do I tell you this?

Follow below the evolution of teaching math since the 1950s:

1. Teaching Math In The 1950s:
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price. What is his profit?

2. Teaching Math In The 1960s:
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5 of the price, or $80. What is his profit?

3. Teaching Math In The 1970s:
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80. Did he make a profit?

4. Teaching Math In The 1980s:
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80 and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.

5. Teaching Math In The 1990s:
A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20.
What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and if you feel like crying, it's ok.)

6. Teaching Math In 2007:
Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100. El costo de la producciones es $80. Cuanto dinero ha hecho?

Lets Hear It For The Old Folks

Since you like the last joke, here are a couple more gross jokes my friends have sent to me.

Grandma and grandpa go to a motel for the night, just like they did when they were young.
Grandpa takes off his glasses and goes to the bathroom to freshen up.
Grandma takes off her clothes and gets on the bed. She decides to do a few stretches so she throws her legs over her head and they get caught in the headboard.
Grandpa comes into the room, sees her and says, "God Dimmit woman, will you comb your hair and put your teeth back in, you look like an asshole"

This old couple goes to the doctor. The doctor calls them into the examination room and asks them what the problem is. The old man looks at the old lady and then asks the doctor to watch them make love. He agrees, and they get down to business. He observes everything and, after they are finished he declares that everything seems to be working just fine. Blood pressure is okay, and heart beat is strong. So he sends them on their way.

A couple of weeks later the old couple returns and asks the doctor to observe them having sex again. This time the results are the same, but the doctor ask why they had come back.

The old man says, “Well, doc. I’m married and she is married. A hotel room cost $50 a day and your office visit is only $30 and Medicare pays 80% of that. See you in a couple of weeks.”

And, finally, I think I told you guy’s this one before, but I’ll do it again simply because I am senile and can’t remember if I did or not.

A mother stopped by to visit her daughter unexpectedly one afternoon. She let herself into the house and found her daughter lying on the couch in the nude. In shock, she sputters to her daughter, “What in the world are you doing.”

The daughter jumps up and puts on a robe and embarrassingly tells her mother that her husband is due home any minuet and he loves for her to meet him in her birthday suit. It turns him on and they have fantastic sex. You should try it.

The mother, not wanting to cause an embarrassing scene for the husband, left in a hurry. She thought about it on the way home and thought she would surprise her husband when he came home. So when she heard his car pull into the driveway, she got naked and stretched out on the couch. He came in the door, saw her lying on the couch, and said, “Goddamn, woman, what are you doing.”

She smiled seductively and said, “I though I would meet and greet you in my birthday suit.”

He shakes his head and says, “Well you had better iron the damn thing because it is wrinkled as hell.”

He gets out of the hospital in a couple of days.

The Way To Go

A wonderful friend of ours sent this to me. I thought you would enjoy a little humor, so...

Sunday Morning Sex

I will never hear church bells ringing again without smiling...

Upon hearing that her elderly grandfather had just passed away, Katie went straight to her grandparent's house to visit her 95-year-old grandmother and comfort her.

When she asked how her grandfather had died, her grandmother replied, “He had a heart attack while we were making love on Sunday morning.”

Horrified, Katie told her grandmother that two people nearly 100 years old having sex would surely be asking for trouble.

”Oh no, my dear,” replied granny. "Many years ago, realizing our
advanced age, we figured out the best time to do it was when the church bells would start to ring. It was just the right rhythm. Nice and slow and even. Nothing too strenuous! Simply, in on the Ding and out on the Dong."

She paused to wipe away a tear, and continued, "He'd still be alive if the ice cream truck hadn't come along."

Seriously, isn't that a good way to go out, guys? Except I would like for it to be "Stars and Strips Forever."

I Get No Respect

I just returned from driving Sweet Tea and Dot down to Macon (about a hundred miles south of Atlanta) to meet Dr. Amber for their trip to Tampa to meet the ship for their cruse. The grand kids went with us and rode back with me in Dr. Ambers car. They are funny and I love those two little snots so much, but I get no respect.

We were looking for an exit with gas and food to meet Dr. Amber. We were discussing what kind of breakfast we wanted – Cracker Barrel, fast food, some out-of-the way restaurant, or just crackers and cokes at the gas station. J-Man said, “Let’s do this with some logic. Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Moe.”

Then on the way back, we stopped off at Wal Mart to get some printer cartridges. As we were checking out, Bug showed me some artsy, fartsy wooden heads of horses, cows, pigs, a nurse, etc. She said they were to hold your glasses. When you put your glasses in the slot, it made it look like the statue was wearing glasses. Strange but cute!

On the way home she ask if I liked them. I said they were okay, and J-Man asked where my glasses were. I told him they were in my pocked because I only needed them to read. Bug ask why I didn’t ware them all the time and I told her, “Because I don’t have to. Besides, you wouldn’t want me to put something on to mar the beauty of this gorgeous face would you? She said, looking up at me with a squint and as serious as a little shit can said, “Yeah! A sack!” After I got through laughing, I beat her. Ingrate! I get no respect.

New NASCAR

As many of you may know, I am a huge NASCAR fan, and have been since the late '60's. But I have found a new sport, thanks to cooper green, my quirky friend on my blog role.

We, of the maturing crowd, need a more sedate form of entertainment. NASCAR recognized this and branched off into a more French type racing.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you NASCARGOT!



Thank you, Cooper, for giving me a reason to love sports again.

My Life Is Changing

Peace and tranquility ends today. My quiet time at the computer, my walking out the door when I feel like it and my Waffle House mornings are being curtailed. I am on my way, in about an hour, to pick up my mother-in-law, Dot, from the airport. And she is staying until January 1st. Yippee, yippee, Goddman.

She comes down every Christmas. Sweet Tea’s baby sister (she has one living in Oregon, too) still lives in New Jersey and helps take care of Dot, but she is a Jehovah Witness and, therefore does not enjoy the holidays. So Dot gets to visit and enjoy J-Man and Bug over the holidays.

She is an 85 (give or take a year or two) year-old, 5’ 1”, 220 pound bundle of joy from New Jersey. Yes, I have a mixed marriage. I am an Atlanta native and Sweet Tea is from Old Bridge, New Jersey via California. But that’s okay, too. The family seems to like her well enough. In fact, I believe they like her better than me. They tell her all the time that I don’t deserve her and that they feel sorry for her having to be married to me. But that is fodder for another blog. Dot is the fodder for this entry.

She is a hypochondriac and takes 4,657,289 a day and has to have her prescriptions filled at least once a month (I have to believe there has to be some placebos in there.) She has pills for her blood pressure, for her heart, for her diabetes, for her cholesterol, to make her shit and to stop her from shitting, and any ailment she sees on the television. Now, she thanks she has Restless Leg Syndrome (what ever that is.) She also has a tube of ointment for rashes that she keeps in the bathroom that I DON’T want to know anything about.

She uses a walker to help her move around and we have to rearrange the furniture so she can get from on room to another – especially the bathroom. She can’t lie down because she can’t breathe if she does, so she sleeps in a chair in the living room. So we have to hang curtains between the doorways to give her some privacy. She has a very hard time going up the stairs because her legs aren’t strong enough to lift all that weight. So, when it’s time for her to take a shower, she has to have Sweet Tea get behind her and push her up the stairs. It scars me to death because, if Dot slips, Sweet Tea could loose an arm or get her head stuck up that huge ass. I try to look the other way - like trying not to watch a car wreck unfolding. Yuck!

When she sets in HER chair in the den, she has no lap. So Chaplin tries to jump in her lap to get his daily dose of petting, but there isn’t anything for him to land on, so the claws come out and she is hollering, “Shoo, get down, Coffeypot get this thing off me, shoo, ouch, go away. I need to go to the bathroom.” I give Chaplin a high-five and set him in my lap. Good boy!

She isn’t all that bad, I guess. She is a good person, though in an old fashion New Jersey sort of way. She has her opinions and isn’t afraid to use them. But I like that. She is fun to have around (for a day) and I enjoy hearing about her life working at Squibb, making bandages for the solders during WWII, and her job for the company that manufactured explosives. But she loves to whistle. If there is any music on the television, commercial, part of the show, anything, she will whistle along with the music – unless her mouth is full of ice-cream.

As long as I have plenty of ice-cream and fruit around, she is happy. We keep fruit all the time, but the ice-cream… well, I am going to get her a feedbag to hang off her ears and keep it full of ice-cream. That way, she won’t have to get up and waddle to the kitchen, which she has to go through to get to the bathroom, to re-load ten or twenty times a day.

Also, she, Sweet Tea and Dr. Amber are going on a 7-day cruse, too. She wanted one more cruse before she became worm food. It is a trip for the girls, too. I didn’t want to go. Spending a week in a confined space like a ship with her, there might have been a tragedy at sea. She might have ended up as a Dot in the ocean.

Okay! I will have a week to myself. Bit deal! She will still be coming back here.

Quotes On War

I found this on my home page of MSN.com.

War evokes such conflicting emotions--horror, glory, shame, pride, and sorrow--that it is often difficult to express them in words. Here is what some have said about war.

1. There is many a boy here today who looks on war as all glory, but boys, it is all hell. You can bear this warning voice to generations yet to come. I look upon war with horror.
--William Tecumseh Sherman (1820-1891), U.S. general. From a speech, Columbus, Ohio, August 11, 1880.

2. All counter-revolutionary wars are unjust, all revolutionary wars are just.
--Mao Zedong (1893-1976), Chinese statesman. From On Protracted War (1938).

3. All wars are popular for the first thirty days.
--Attributed to Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. (1917- ), U.S. historian.

4. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother.
--William Shakespeare (1564-1616), English playwright and poet. From Henry V (1598?).

5. War is nothing but a continuation of politics with the admixture of other means.
--Karl Marie von Clausewitz (1780-1831), Prussian general. Often misquoted as "War is nothing but a continuation of politics by other means." From On War (1833).

6. It has long been noted that some conquerors prefer enemies as fierce as tigers and brave as eagles, for only then can they savor the true joy of victory.
--Lu Xun (1881-1936), Chinese writer. From "The True Story of Ah Q" (1918).

7. It is well that war is so terrible; else we would grow too fond of it.
--Robert E. Lee (1807-1870), U.S. general. Said to another general during the battle of Fredericksburg (1862).

8. Nothing is ever done in this world until men are prepared to kill each other if it is not done.
--George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950), Irish playwright. From Major Barbara (1905).

9. Television brought the brutality of war into the comfort of the living room. Vietnam was lost in the living rooms of America—not on the battlefields of Vietnam.
--Marshall McLuhan (1911-1980), Canadian sociologist. In the Montreal Gazette, 1975.

10. The guerrilla fights the war of the flea, and his military enemy suffers the dog's disadvantages: too much to defend; too small, ubiquitous, and agile an enemy to come to grips with.
--Robert Taber (1928- ), U.S. writer. From War of the Flea (1965).

11. A war regarded as inevitable or even probable, and therefore much prepared for, has a very good chance of being fought.
--George F. Kennan (1904- ), U.S. diplomat and scholar. From The Cloud of Danger (1977).


12. War is capitalism with the gloves off.
--Tom Stoppard (1937- ), British playwright and screenwriter. From Travesties (1974).


13. You no more win a war than you can win an earthquake.
--Jeannette Rankin (1880-1973), U.S. legislator.


14. Do not let us speak of darker days; let us rather speak of sterner days. These are not dark days: these are great days--the greatest days our country has ever lived.
--Winston Churchill (1874-1965), British prime minister and writer. From a speech, October 29, 1941.

15. Blood alone moves the wheels of history.
--Attributed to Benito Mussolini (1883-1945), Italian dictator.

For The Troops

Lizzie Palmer is a 15 year-old who made this and other videos and can be found under her name at YouTube.com.



Also, she encourages you to go to thisisforthesoldiers.com and sign a petition in support of the troops. I did! It will not cost you anything, but may make you feel a little better knowing the troops can count on you on this Veterans Day.

The Dangers of Drinking

I just read an article on the dangers of drinking....

Scared the shit out of me.

So that's it!

After today, no more reading.

Show Them Babies

On Nov. 11th, we will be celebrating our service men and women. It is a very patriotic day and I though I would present this to show my appreciation.

Beware Of Strange Men In The Grocery Store

Some men would tell their daughters that after the experience they had today.

I was at the grocery store today browsing the cereal aisle for a box of cereal that would knock the shit out of me. I have been constipated, bloated and irritable lately, so I thought I would get something that would ream me out - but taste good going down.

As I was pondering which bran was more toxic, a man and his daughter walked by. She looked to be around eleven or twelve and very cute. Another young girl came around the corner of the aisle and the two screamed and grabbed each others hands. Since they looked to be about the same age and they knew each others names, I assumed they were friends. I’m pretty smart when it comes to things like that.

Anyway, I was pondering which fruit would go best with which ever box of barn I chose when I heard the friend say to the man’s daughter, “Your dad is so hot.” I glanced over at the dad and he was smiling and had his chest inflated a bit. Then I heard the daughter say, “Eweeeeeuuuu.” The man’s smile faded and his chest fell to his belly. I started to laugh.

All three look at me and I laughingly said to the daughter, “Its okay, honey. I know how you feel. My parents NEVER had sex either.” Then both girls said, “Eweeeeeuuuu.” And I said, “Exactly!” I then reached up and grabbed the first box of shit-kicking cereal I could get my hands on and walked on down the aisle.

I didn’t hear it, but I bet the dad was warning the daughter about strangers in the store.

Thoughts to Ponder

Although I have my beliefs, I am not an overly religious man. But the list below raises a good point. That is, even with the worst parts of us showing, we can still make a positive difference. Even if you don't believe in God, the principal is still the same.

It also reminds me of the time the crowd was going to stone the prostitute and Jesus step in and said, “Let those without sin cast the first stone.” A few seconds later a huge rock came flying through the air and squashed the prostitute. The crow gasps and Jesus looked around and just stood the shaking his head. Finally He said, “Boy, mom, sometimes you really piss me off.”

However, the next time you feel like GOD can't use you, just remember...
Noah was a drunk
Abraham was too old
Isaac was a daydreamer
Jacob was a liar
Leah was ugly
Joseph was abused
Moses had a stuttering problem
Gideon was afraid
Samson had long hair and was a womanizer
Rahab was a prostitute
Jeremiah and Timothy were too young
David had an affair and was a murderer
Elijah was suicidal
Jonah ran from God
Naomi was a widow
Job went bankrupt
Peter denied Christ
The Disciples fell asleep while praying
Martha worried about everything
The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once
Zaccheus was too small
Paul was too religious
Timothy had an ulcer
Lazarus was dead!
And Don't forget - Jesus Helped 'em all!!!!

Now! No more excuses! God can use you to your full potential.
Besides you aren't the message, you are just the messenger.
In the Circle of God's love, God's waiting to use your full potential.

1. God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.
2. Dear God, I have a problem, it's Me.
3. There is no key to happiness. The door is always open.
4. Silence is often misinterpreted but never misquoted.
5. Do the math... count your blessings.
6. Faith is the ability to not panic.
7. If you worry, you didn't pray. If you pray, don't worry.
8. As a child of God, prayer is kind of like calling home everyday.
9. Blessed are the flexible for they shall not be bent out of shape.
10. The most important things in your house are the people.
11. When we get tangled up in our problems, be still. God wants us to be still so He can untangle the knot.
12. A grudge is a heavy thing to carry.
13. He who dies with the most toys is still dead.

Think on these and maybe they will make some of the decision you have to make in life a little easier. If not, don’t blame me. I’m just acting as a messenger. Look into a mirror to see if the problem lies there.

The Man and Woman Songs

Okay! I have changed the links to copy and paste. Sorry! I still have trouble doing anything that requires intelligence.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7Y0I91rubg
and
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpZcCpdFILY

To keep it level. I'm trying folks. I'll get this linking down one day.

Also, Sweet Tea sent me this one.

My husband, being unhappy with my mood swings, bought me a mood ring the other day so he would be able to monitor my moods.

We've discovered that when I'm in a good mood, it turns green.

When I'm in a bad mood, it leaves a big red mark on his forehead.

Maybe next time he'll buy me a diamond....
Dumb ass.

Is she trying to tell me something?

My NASCAR Experience

Last Tuesday night I visited and was interviewed by RWA at “Thoughts From The Heart of Dixie” – listed as Thoughts In Dixie on my role bar. For those of you who are not dropping by his site are missing a unique and funny guy who can make you think about things in the news and his life. Stop by Tuesday night and listen to his blog cast – and call in if you have the mine to do so.

Anyway, while he was interviewing me, he asked what sports I liked. The only one I follow and have a passion for is NASCAR. We talked about that for a while, and then I told him about the time I got to work in a pit crew at a NASCAR race at Darlington Raceway. He suggested I post this, after I had to holler at him to wake him up. So, if you are having trouble falling asleep, try reading this little tale.

Back in the mid 70’s my first wife and I went to Darlington to watch the Rebel 500. One of the guys on Bruce Hill’s pit crew was a Chris, whom I went to high school with and whose dad owned a Gulf Service Station up the street from where I lived. It was a place we both worked on our racecars. We were both racing on the weekends before I gave it up and he quit to work for BH.

Anyways, we were walking up to the infield gate to see him and say hello. He was waiting for me and asked if I would like to work in the pit crew because one of the men broke his hand the night before when the race engine fell on it. Well, let me tell you that was like asking a fat man if he would like to have a hamburger.

So he turned to the man checking the race people into the infield and told him we where with him. This is before NASCAR was such a big deal. There were two men setting at a card table checking off names. Not like today where you have to have six pounds of passes around your neck to use the bathroom – much less get on pit road. So my wife, Patches, went to sit with the wives of the racing community and I went to pit road. I was more excited than I was the first time I got to feel a boob. I was right in the middle of my heroes. In the pit next to us was Janet Guthrie – the first woman to drive in, what was then, the modern racing era. The Flock brothers’ sister raced in the 50’s. But Janet was a big deal.

Back to the story! My job was to wash the windshield when Bruce pitted. I had a 15’ pole with a sponge and a squeegee on the end. Because there are a limited number of men allowed over the wall during a pit stop, I had to stand behind the wall, lean over and wash the window with a little elbow grease. I did quite well, thank you very much. I was better at that than driving my race car and I was having a ball. But half way through the race we had a rain delay.

As I was going to the garage area to wait out the rain, Patches ran up to the fence separating the wives from the pit area, and said to me in an excited voice, “I got to pee with Linda Petty.” She was easy to please. Me too! I was sitting in the garage area with all my heroes sitting and standing around in groups just chatting away. Bobby and Donnie Allison, Richard Petty, David Pearson, Buddy Baker, Benny Parsons, and all the rest were all round me. If I wasn’t so cool and sophisticated I would have been bugging everyone for an autograph, or asking stupid questions like, “Hi, will you talk to me?” So I just set and ogled.

One group of drivers was standing just off to my right and I could hear them talking. Bobby Allison, Cale Yarborough, David Pearson and Richard Petty were talking about Janet Guthrie. Bobby said that she was driving a pretty good race, that he had been watching her all race long and was impressed with how she was handling the track, one of the hardest to drive at the time.

David said that they could thank him for that. Why? They wanted to know. And David said, “I told her that if she ever won a race, I would give her some and she had been trying like hell ever since.”

Then the rain stopped and we (and I use the term “we” very loosely) went back to racing. Bruce finished in tenth place, the highest he ever finished in a NASCAR race. I am convinced that it was because his windshield was so clean. They should have kept me around. He might have had a NASCAR career if the had, but, instead, he went back to Washington State after the year was over. I don’t even get a Christmas card from him. The ingrate!

Sex Facts & Beauty Secrets

This was sent to me in an email, one of those pass along things that we all get from our friends and family. I did add a few comments, but the original meanings can be deciphered.

1. Sex is a beauty treatment. Scientific tests find that when women make love they produce amounts of the hormone estrogen, which makes hair shine and skin smooth. That is, if you pull it out and aim it right.

2. Gentle, relaxed lovemaking reduces your chances of suffering dermatitis, skin rashes and blemishes. The sweat produced cleanses the pores and makes your skin glow. And if you do it too fast you can get blisters and pull muscles.

3. Lovemaking can burn up those calories you piled on during that romantic dinner. Begging for a second chance burns up even more calories.

4. Sex is one of the safest sports you can take up. It stretches and tones up just about every muscle in the body. It's more enjoyable than swimming 20 laps, and you don't need
special sneakers or a bathing suite!

5. Sex is an instant cure for mild depression. It releases endorphins into the bloodstream, producing a sense of euphoria and leaving you with a feeling of well-being. Until she says, “Are you finished already?”

6. The more sex you have, the more you will be offered – especially if you are filthy stinking rich. Actually, the sexually active body gives off greater quantities of chemicals called pheromones. These subtle sex perfumes drive the opposite sex crazy!

7. Sex is the safest tranquilizer in the world. IT IS 10 TIMES MORE
EFFECTIVE THAN VALIUM. Men go at it like hell for two or three minuets and, bam, they are asleep.

8. Kissing each day will keep the dentist away. Kissing encourages saliva to wash food from the teeth and lowers the level of the acid that causes decay, preventing plaque build-up. If you like to spit out your partners food after each kiss. I’ll brush, thank you very much – unless she had hamburger with everything on it. That is different.

9. Sex actually relieves headaches. A lovemaking session can release the tension that restricts blood vessels in the brain. And then the headache will fall asleep.

10. A lot of lovemaking can unblock a stuffy nose. If done right it can blow the snot out of your nose. Actually, sex is a natural antihistamine. It can help combat asthma and hay fever.

Now you know why I am an overweight, grumpy, frustrated old fart who is getting entirely too much ear hair. I need to get laid. Sweet Tea is coming home tomorrow, but that won’t help the ear hair. But I am glad to have her back. My right arm is beginning to look like Popeyes.

USS FRANK E EVANS DD754 - Her Story

I said that I would tell you about my ship someday. Today is a good day to start, but it is really long. Just show the guys the respect and read the story.

The USS Frank E. Evans DD754 (DD is the designation for a destroyer) was launched and commissioned in 1944, and, after a shakedown cruse, set sail for the Western Pacific (WESTPAC in Navy terminology.) She arrived on station in time for the Okinawa invasion and earned her combat stars battling kamikazes, dueling with Japanese ships and doing shore bombardment in support of the ground troops. She was in combat until the end of the war. From there she did a stint in China and eventually ended up in mothballs.

When Korea broke out she was re-commissioned and sent back to WESTPAC to fight in that war. She was engaged in many shore bombardments and even received small arms and mortar fire because she was so close to the shore. Her nickname is “The Fighter,” and she earned the moniker. However, after Korea, she was sent back to the mothball fleet in San Diego.

In the early 60’s she was brought back again and refitted in what was called FRAM II. Her WWI and Korea configuration was removed and she had a helicopter deck added to the same place her #3 gun mount was located. This was used, unsuccessfully, for an unmanned torpedo carrying drone. The Navy just couldn’t get it to work more than ONCE in a row. This is when I came on board, in 1962.

I was fresh out of boot camp and from a leave home, and I was looking forward to boarding a true fighting ship. I got off the pier bus and looked down the pier. There were four small ships on the left (port) side of the pier and the beautiful, huge, gray ship on the right (starboard) side. I walked down to the gangway and ask the Marine (this should have been my first hint, since Marines don’t guard the gangways of destroyers) if this was the Evans. He said that this was the USS Helena, a cruiser of great renown. He pointed across the pier to the four little ships and said the Evans was the one next to the pier. Man! Only a little over 300 feet long and I was going to go to sea in THAT? Oh, well! I reported aboard. I was sent immediately to the deck force (boson mates who took care of all things outside – painting, chipping pain, painting, sweeping, swabbing (mopping) and painting, not to mention chipping and painting. My bunk was in the forward part of the ship two decks down from the main deck.

I spent two months there and, while at sea, I was stuck painting a 3’ by 3’ by 3’ locker below the anchor chain locker, and getting sicker by the minuet. Just before I was about to pass out, one of the guys stuck his head in and said some lieutenant wanted to see me. I reported to his stateroom and was told that I had scored high enough on my battery of test to be considered for radar training, and did I want to give it a try. I was trying soooo hard to keep from upchucking on his shoes that I almost wasn’t able to get out my, “Hell, yeah… uh, Sir.” So that night I had the mid-watch (midnight to four in the morning.) This normally meant I would get to sleep in until eight a.m., but I was awaken at six a.m. and told to report to CIC (Combat Information Center or Combat for short.) I was then made a radar striker.

The first person I met was a gravely voiced, thick glasses wearing, lisp speaking first class pettyofficer by the name of Gary Hodgson. He never combed his hair and it stuck out all over the place like a mad scientist and his laugh was as raspy as his voice – and he laughed often.

This is where I spent my tenure as a sailor in the Navy. I was able to visit the WESPAC (three ports in Japan and one in Hong Kong) and Hawaii and Midway Island and San Francisco and San Diego. Although we did operate with the USS Oriskiny, an attack aircraft carrier with jets on board, we mostly operated with the USS Hornet, an anti-submarine aircraft carrier with propeller driven planes on board. We did do some early bombardment on Viet Nam in support of the advisors there at the time. But no real combat experience for me. I left the ship in 1964 and returned home a relatively normal life. But the Evans kept on doing her thing.

After I got off she made five more trips to the WESTPACK and received another combat star for her experiences. In 1969, before she left for her next cruse to the Pacific, all the personal had to have urine test for drugs. She set sail and during the cruse she pulled into Subic Bay, Philippines. She was immediately boarded by several government type agents and arrested several of the crew for failing the drug test. The captain was furious and demanded more men to bring his crew back up to compliment. So he received around thirty new recruits fresh from boot camp – some of whom had not even had the opportunity to go home after their training. Also on board were three brothers from Niobrabra, Nebraska, Gary, Gregory and Kelly Sage; Chief Larry Reilly had extended a year before retiring to serve with his son Larry Jr.; and my old friend Gary Hodgson was serving out his last year before retiring.

Anyway, there were a goodly number of untrained men on board. And she was heading to Viet Nam to be on “the gun line.” Meaning she would be doing close in bombardments to aide the men in the jungles.

She was there for about a two weeks when she (and when I say she I mean all four destroyers in the squadron) was ordered to head South out to the edge of the South China Sea and join up with the HMAS Melbourne and her task group of Australian and New Zeeland ships to practice in joint maneuvers.

One of the maneuvers that are done dozens of times when operating with a carrier is moving to the rear of the carrier. When aircraft are launched or retrieved there has to be a tin can 500 yards off the stern of the carrier in case something goes wrong. On June 3rd, just after three a.m., the Evans was order to go to plain guard. All she had to do was turn to port and circle around to fall onto station as the carrier went by. But the OD (Officer of the Deck) got confused between our base course and the zig zag course and he turned to starboard (right) and headed on a collision course with the Melbourne.

Everything became confused about then. Radar was telling them they were on a collision course. The Melbourne told him they were on a collision course, and finally, the OD ordered the rudder Hard Right. At the same time the Melbourne broke all the rules of the sea (the biggest ship has the right of way) and turned her rudder Hard Left and she rammed and cut in half the Evans at mid-ships. Everyone in the forward fire room was killed instantly by crushing metal or twelve hundred degree steam. Everyone in CIC was killed. All but five men below decks were drowned because the front half rolled over and sank in three minuets. Among the dead were all three Sage brothers, my friend Gary Hodgson and Chief Reilly watched his son go down (he was in the forward fire room – he volunteered to help out that night because one of the regular guys was sick or something.) In all, we lost 74 of Americas finest, and only one body was ever recovered and he was burnt pretty bad.

There were many stories of heroics that night. Our guys were trying to keep the back half afloat while working with the wounded and burned. The Melbourne had helicopters in the air immediately and they saved many of your men. There were men jumping OFF the Melbourne into the water to save some of our men and others were on the deck with rifles shooting at sharks. Many men on both ships earned commendations that night. The other ships tried a search and rescue, but no more were found. The front half carried and drug the seventy four down to eternity.

Afterward, the Melbourne captain’s 30+ years of service was ruined and he left the Australian Navy without his retirement. The captain of the Evans was exonerated but never held command of a ship again. He retired, but never got over loosing his ship and so many men. He passed away a couple of years ago, but he wouldn’t attend any of our reunions. Not one survivor ever blamed him for anything, but Navy Command has is traditions, and he felt so responsible.

The OD got a letter of reprimand in his file, which means he would never command a ship in the USS Navy. In civilian life he would have been charged with 74 counts of manslaughter. But the Navy has her own rules and customs. The OD left the Navy and no one knows where he is – that I know of. I haven’t mentioned the names, because it isn’t necessary. He has his cross to bear and doesn’t need any help from others.

So now you know, or maybe you don’t because I can’t express the story in my limited vocabulary, why I feel so proud to be at the reunion with such distinguished and brave men. I don’t know how I would have reacted in their place, but being a radarman, I would have been bunking below the mess decks (three decks down) where only two radarmen made it out. In the bow, where I was first stationed, only three men made it out. So I might not have been here at all. As a radarman I have been involved in many plain guard situations and it could have happened at any time, especially at night. Not likely, but it could have.

The HMAS Melbourne had already sunk one Australian destroyer doing the same maneuver a couple of years before and had two close calls a few nights before the collision with a couple of our destroyers. I believe she was a jinxed ship, but that’s just me. If you want to read some first hand accounts, Google USS FRAND E EVANS DD7545 and look around. The association is working on a new web site where we will be able to blog. I’m looking forward to that.

I guess this is way too long for a blog, but I couldn’t stop typing. I hope you remember the 74 in your prayers. I do!

For Moms

My Sweet Tea emailed this to me today and I though you moms out there would like to see it. I'm still technology impaired, so you will have to cut and past, but it is worth it.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=ati3k32-NXI

I'm Back - For Now

Well, I’m home – for now. I have to leave tomorrow to deliver a car to Roanoke Rapids, NC; an eighteen hour round trip. But the time I spent with my shipmates was priceless. I really look forward to the reunion each year because it rejuvenates my spirit.

I thank you all for your comments and your well wishes. I have spent the last two hours getting caught up on all your blogs, and I am just as glad to be a part of your world, too. You folks are fun, funny and have courage that I wish I had just a little bit of.

When I have time I will tell you about my ship and the men who served aboard her. I was so fortunate to have serve with so many fine and brave soles who allow me to be apart of their crew. From WWII to Korea to the beginnings of Viet Nam, I worked along side combat veterans who earned many medals for bravery and wounds received in combat. And yet they are the most humble and decent group of guys I have ever been around. But, then we are all in our late 50’s to late 80’s. We are too old to be mean – just cantankerous. We are all grandfathers and some great-grandfathers. Some still have nightmares, but all have made a life for themselves and their familys. You would like them, too.

It was fun sitting around drinking a beer or two or twelve or twenty and telling and retelling the old stories. But they are just a funny and thrilling and sad as the first time I heard them. We are always having new guys show up due to the outreach program we use to gather up veterans who served aboard her, and they add new stories and memories to each meeting. And we all get to sit around and say Fuck, and Goddamn, and other words dear to navy men all over the world. The wives just sit and shake their heads and let us get away with it once a year. Of course, many of them (my Sweet Tea wasn’t there) will probably get their mouths washed out with lye soap when they get home, but, man, it was worth it.

However it is good to be home and sitting in my chair and sleeping in my bed – although I will be alone. And it was wonderful to hear the voices of my grandkids this afternoon. I really missed them. I visited the family home of Jessie and Frank James and I went to a riverboat museum in Kansas City, Mo. J-Man would have loved it, and Bug would have loved all the horses that were everywhere. I’ll get to see them Friday, and I’m ready, now.

I did think of E. Craig when I saw a picture of his ship, the USS Sullivans DD537, in a destroyer book in our display room, and I wish Biddie and her family the best and have them in my prayers. I just found out about her situation today, or I would have commented sooner.

Thank you, again for your comments, and I will tell you more when I get back from my trip.

Don't Leave Me

Okay! Here’s what’s going on. I will be leaving for Excelsior Springs, Mo, tomorrow morning for my Navy reunion. I am driving up with one of my old Navy buddies and his wife. They are the couple that Sweet Tea and I went on the cruise for their 50 wedding anniversary. They are two of the greatest people you could ever meet, and I am proud they call me a friend. But that’s not what this is about.

I will be gone until next Monday evening and I will not have a computer with me the whole time. What am I going to do? Withdrawal! Will I go into convulsions? Will I see little blog bugs crawling up my arms and legs? Will I have the police call to my room because of all the screaming? I don’t know what to do.

Asking you not to post anything for a week won’t work; nor will threatening to spank you till your butt glows red. Too many of you seem to want and look forward to that, and I don’t want to disappoint you and let you down again. So I am at a loss. I will be by myself, too, since Sweet Tea is in NJ for year-end closing and training on a new system FOR A MONTH.

I’m also worried about you, too. Where are you going to get your lewd and lascivious comments with me gone? Decency and class may come back into the blog world and I will be just another cast out. Damn, I can feel the rejection already.

Wait! Give me a chance. When I come back I’ll try not to say fuck and shit and goddamn and Democrat and other nasty words. I’ll try! I promise! I’ll say all those words to my sailor mates and maybe it will be all out of my system by the time I get back. Just wait.

Bye!

It's Today

I wasn’t going to say anything about it, but Marni let the cat out of the bag and Beth, of cup of coffee fame, as me to give you some of the wisdom I have obtained over the past sixty-three years. That’s easy. Not much!

I was born at Crawford W. Long Hospital on September 27, 1944. As you know, the war was going on, but my dad said my birth shortened the war because I was going to be a hell raiser and the Germans and Japanese didn’t want anyone like me that they couldn’t control. He was really good about boosting my moral.

Anyway, as was the custom back then, my mom had a private room and stayed for six days before being released. She had a private nurse the whole time. We were not rich. We couldn’t even afford to pay attention back then, but that was all the hospitals had to do, because everyone was at war, working in the war plants, or raising their kids. No one had time to be sick, or think they are sick like they do now. If you felt bad, you took a dose of castor oil or put a mustard plaster on your chest and kept on trucking.

For the first four years of my life we lived on Meldurm Street in the Bellwood section of Atlanta, not far from the world headquarters of Coca Cola. I remember riding the trolley, an electric machine that ran on tracks but powered by cables reaching up to electric wires running across the town. The seats were made of wood and were very uncomfortable. I remember mom taking me to Grant (not the same Grant of Civil War fame, but named for some dude who helped get the railroad started in Atlanta) Park to the zoo. The zoo was only about five miles from the house, but we had to transfer three times to get there.

My dad never owned a car until I was out of the house and in the service. He drove a truck for Sinclair Oil for 35 years without and accident, but he didn’t own a car. When I was born, the terminal was within walking distance of the house, and back then, a car was a luxury, not a necessity. My brothers and sister, 15, 13 and 10 years older, dated using the trolleys or busses. So when Sinclair built a huge terminal (were the gas trucks refilled to deliver to the gas stations around Atlanta) my dad had to bum rides to work. One day he was leaving the terminal and saw a house about two mile from the terminal, so he stopped and bought it (for $5,000 plus dollars and had a house payment of $30 something for 30 years.) Mom didn’t see it until the day we moved in. By then my oldest brother and my sister had bought a car and helped us move. It was in May, it was hot, I was four years old and my mother was eight months pregnant with my younger brother. The house had a living room, three bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. For seven people.

This was in Atlanta, but in 1948 it was still rural. There were two barns and two horses that the previous owner left until he could get a place for them. We had them for about a year. The next door neighbor had chickens, the house two doors down still had an outhouse in the back yard and two cows. The house five doors down raised pigs. And everyone knew and supported each other. It was a family of about 150 people. I had twenty or thirty mothers who would spank me as well and as fast as any of her kids. Then they would call mom and tell her and I could expect another spanking when I got home. Today its call “Child Cruelty.”

My sister had a bedroom. My two brothers had a bed room. My dad and mom had a bedroom and I slept on a rollaway bed in the kitchen. Thankfully, my oldest brother got married and I got promoted to the boy’s bed room. My baby brother got promoted from the crib in mom and dad’s room to the cot in the kitchen. Then the next older brother got married and baby bro go moved in the bedroom with me. When my sister got married, me and little bro moved into her room and the boys room was turned into a den because it was next to the bathroom.

We lived there until I went into the service. Mom and little bro lived there for almost 40 years. The house is gone now, but we still own the land.

I have seen street-cars, electric buses, gas buses to electric buses come to Atlanta. I was raised on radio shows like Gun Smoke, Gang Buster, Dragnet, Ozzie and Harriett, Fibber McGee and Mollie, the Grand Old Opery, and many more. We had an old rotary dial telephone with a three person party line, and the same phone number of 40 years. Only the area coded was added later. I remember the Bank of Georgia building be constructed and touted as the tallest building in the South (23 stories high.) You can’t eve see it now.

I drove cars before there were seat belts and the high-beam switch was on the floor next to the clutch. There was no power steering and automatic transmissions until the sixties. The radio was AM and the air-conditioning was call 2-60. Two windows down and going 60 miles per hour. There was no rush hour traffic because most people rode the bus and lived close to their jobs. Our fist television was bought by my sister with her first paycheck. Of course it was black and white and, in Atlanta, we only had three stations (most of the time) with a “rabbit ears” antenna. The television stations went off the air at 11:00 pm or at midnight.

When I got married and bought my first house, it cost $17,000 and I was worried sick over how I was going to meet the payments each month. When I got out of the Navy, I went to work at Georgia Tech at the experiment station, and, no, I wasn’t one of the experiments. I worked in the warehouse and delivered supplies all over the campus. For this I was paid a staggering $185 once a month and out of that I had to make a car and insurance payment, date, drink, get into trouble and live. I left GT after a year and went to The Atlanta Coca Cola Bottling company and by the time I got married and bought the house, I was making around $200 a week.

My baby girl, Marni, came along, and that slowed me down some. I mean, I was a father, now, and had even more responsibilities. So after a few years, I divorced my first wife and SHE gets all the credit for raising Marni to the lady she is today. All she got from me is her since of humor and her temper.

I was amazed and amused when my step kids came home with history homework and I knew, first hand, what they were studying. I lived through and witnessed Korea, Viet Nam, Integration, race riots, bra burnings, social change of all kinds, White Flight out of Atlanta, the advent of fast food restaurants and chain stores. I’ve witnessed, and participated, in the changing of girls and women going from being respected, protected and treated like gentle souls who never had to, or was required to, work outside the house to being a peer in the work force. Back in the day, a girl would die of embarrassment if she was caught calling a boy on the phone, and she would never ask a boy on a date. And the guys were scared to death of the feminine mind and body.

Yes, people did not live as long back then, but they were stronger and more self-reliant than we are today. I miss those times, but I’m glad I have my Waffle House and central air-conditioning. And computers. And color television – on cable. And cell phones.

But of all the things I have loved in my life, Sweet Tea, Marni, J-Man and Bug head the list. As we all do, I look back on my life and think, “If I had done this or that instead.” I wouldn’t have these precious people in my life. And, for that, I would not change a thing.

Sorry for rambling, but that is what I was thinking about today, my birthday, while I was trimming my toenails, getting a haircut, having the oil changed in my truck, and getting fish supplies for the fish tank. Although I don’t FEEL sixtythree, I guess I look it, but that’s okay. I don’t have to look at me, even when I am shaving, because I do that in the shower. Thanks for hanging in there.

All About Me Me

I saw this one at Marni’s place and I though you might want to know me a little better. They’re hard questions that take a lot of soul searching to answer. I did my best, and I hope it doesn’t upset you too much in reading about my life.

Have you ever licked the back of a CD to try to get it to work? Yes! I go to the library to get audio cd’s when I go on my road trips, and sometimes they have stuff on the back. I lick it and rub it gingerly on my shirt. I don’t savor the taste or anything like that, just get it wet.

What's the largest age difference between yourself and someone you’ve dated? About 21 years. I was 42 and worked with her. She fulfilled the need and we both went on with our lives. I still see her occasionally at the mall or someplace. We are still friends, but I couldn’t put up with her again. She still giggles at everything. I guess its nerves.

Ever been in a car wreck? Are you kidding me? I drive like a one eyed bat out of hell. There have been several, but I have only been at fault once. About 40 years ago.

Were you popular in high school? No! I was an asshole dork. Too skinny and shy, so I made up for it by being obnoxious.

Have you ever been on a blind date? Yes, many. None were bad, but very few were ever repeat dates. I could have made us miserable – because I can do that – but I decided that she took the time out of her life to meet me, the least I could do was make it as nice as I could. If she could sit across from me and carry on a decent conversation, well, what else could I ask for (other than a bj?)

Are looks important? Well, if you have to tie a bone around her neck to get the dog to play with her, I wouldn’t want to be seen in public with her. But if she can suck a golf ball though a 20’ water hose, there might be hope for us. Actually, no! Looks do not matter. If it did, I would NEVER have had a date.

Do you have any friends that you've known for 10 years or more? I have people I have known for that long, but no friends.

By what age would you like to be married? Aren’t you a little late with this one? I have been married twice and I was too young both times. And if something happens to Sweet Tea, I’ll still be too young to marry. I think the right age would be somewhere around 105.

Does the number of people a person's slept with affect your view of them? It might. I can’t view her if there are 12 or 15 people laying all over her. That would affect my view for sure. But her past, nah. Unless she was with John Holms, then there’s nothing I could do for her.

Are you a good tipper? Sure! I tell people all the time not to be the tallest thing around during an electric storm, or not to place the radio on the side of the tub when taking a bath and other tips like that.

What's the most you have spent for a haircut? $20 at a stylist shop because the Great Clips was too crowded and I was in a hurry.

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? I’ve had a few teachers I would have liked to have crushed, but, no. All my women teachers were old and fat. I never had a teacher like I see in schools today. And the men teaches didn’t float my boat, either, because I don’t row that way.

Have you ever peed in public? Yeahhhhh! Not trying to win a size contest, just because I HAD TO GO.

What song do you want played at your funeral? None! I am not going to have a funeral. The bastards didn’t come to see me when I was alive; I’m not going to give them the pleasure of gloating over me when I’m gone. I am going to be cremated and stored in the garage.

What would your last meal be before getting executed? Christ! Who can eat at a time like this? If it was by lethal injection, maybe I could get a hamburger and fries with diet coke down. But if it was the electric chair, I don’t think I could even swallow. If I could, I guess it would be a bunch of popcorn seeds to see if they pop when the juice is turned on.

Beatles or Stones? Conway Twittie!

If you had to pick one person on earth to die, who would it be? If it could be by a bolt of lightning I would choose Ted Kennedy, especially if Nancy Pelosi, John Kerry, “Turbin” Durbin, Bill and Hillery and Barrac Obama were standing around him holding hands.

Beer, wine or hard liquor? Beer or Jack Black Old #7

Do you have any phobias? No! Plenty of Leary’s, but no phobias.

What are your plans for the future? To live the rest of my life or die trying.

Do you walk around the house naked? Whose house? Not mine, but I’m not a fanatic about it. Make me an offer.

If you were an animal what would you be? A wolf (alpha male of course.) If you mean a bird it would be an eagle.

What do you do as soon as you walk in the house? Go to the bathroom and pee, then I go to the computer to check my emails and blogs.

Do you like horror or comedy? Comedy (especially pornographic comedy.)

Are you missing anyone? No! Everyone I know is accounted for. Why? Do you know something I don’t?

Where do you want to live when you are old? I don’t care. I am old and I live here (until we can get the place sold) and then I will live somewhere else. I don’t require much.

Who is the person you can count on the most? Sweet Tea! She is always there when I need her – even if I don’t want her to be there. I think she cares; which absolutely amazes me.

If you could date any celebrity past or present, who would it be? Catharine Bell, of JAG, or Dana Delaney, of China Beach fame. Or any other women who could afford to give me the life I would love to become accustom too.

What did you dream last night? That I could fly and I could take Sweet Tea with me by holding her hand. We flew from roof tops to roof tops. Then we flew into the mountains and set in trees. Yes, we were human, not birds. When I woke up my arms were real sore, too.

What is your favorite sport to watch? The kids' soccer games, a NASCAR race and nude mud wrestling. But not at the same time.

Are you named after anyone? Two Bible figures. Boy did my older brother, who named me, miss the mark.

What is your favorite alcoholic drink? Jack Black and beer (Boiler Maker).

Non alcoholic drink? Coffee or Diet Coke or Sweet Tea (the drink).

Have you ever been in love? Many times! Mostly with me, but, alas, I’m taken.

Do you sing in the shower? Yes, but not like I use to do. I sound pretty good, too. Put a shower on stage during American Idol and I’ll give them a run for their money.

Have you ever been arrested? Yes. But not booked and fingerprinted or stripped searched. Just thrown in the calaboose and waited until I could pay the fine for doing 95 mph through a 15 mph zone.

What is your favorite Holiday? National Procrastination Day – if they ever have it again.

Would you ever get plastic surgery? Yes! I would like to have the bags under my eyes removed. They could use the extra skin and make a billfold or suite case or something.

Have you ever caught a fish? Doing what? I’ve caught a bunch of them eating my worms and crickets.

So now do you know me any better? I feel drained and in need of a cold beer. Care to join me?

Coffeypot the Sage

Words of wisdom from the sage, Coffeypot

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and a leaky tire.

It’s always darkest before the dawn. So if you’re going to steal the neighbor’s newspaper, that’s the time to do it.

Never test the depth of the water with both feet.

It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.

If you think nobody cares if you’re alive, try missing a couple of car payments.

If you tell the truth you don’t have to remember anything.

If you lend someone $20, and never see that person again; it was probably worth it.

Some days you are the bug, some days you are the windshield.

If a first you don’t succeed, skydiving is not for you.

Never ask a barber if he thinks you need a haircut.

To the world you might be one person, but to one person you might be the world.

Going to church does not make you a Christian anymore than going to McDonald’s makes you a hamburger.

A coincidence is when God performs a miracle, and decides to remain anonymous.

Sometimes the majority only means that all the fools are on the same side.

Life is like an onion; you peel off one layer at a time and sometimes you weep.

Learn from the mistakes of others. You can’t live long enough to make them all yourself.

Following the path of least resistance is what makes rivers and men crooked.

Life is 10% of what happens to you, and 90% of how you respond to it.

Only in America… can a pizza get to your house faster than an ambulance.

Only in America… are there handicap parking places in front of a skating rink.

Only in America… do people order double cheese burgers, a large fry and a diet coke.

Only in America… do banks leave both doors open and then chain the pens to the counters.

Only in America… do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and leave useless things and junk in boxes in the garage.

Only in America… do we use answering machines to screen calls and then have call waiting so we won’t miss a call from someone we didn’t want to talk to in the first place.

Only in America… do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.

Only in America… do we use the word “politics” to describe the process so well: “Poli” in Latin meaning “many” and “tics” meaning “blood-sucking creatures.

And you wonder why I like to smell gasoline.

I'm Back and Boy Are You Going To Get It

Okay! I see that you aren’t very good followers of instructions. So you all turn around and bend over for your spanking – especially you GrizzBaby. Just let me get my belt off and...ooops… damn. Wait! Let me pull my pants up. There! Now… damn.

Does anyone know where I can get a pair of suspenders, or anyone who is willing to hold up my pants for me? I mean you have it coming. Okay! I owe you one.

It was a great trip. The weather was beautiful and the traffic was light. I left the house at 9:00 pm and drove all night and most of the morning to get to N.J. Then I drove back to just outside Richmond before I got too sleepy to drive. I got a room and was asleep by 4:00 pm. Got up this morning and was on the road by 9:00 am – after a good Waffle House breakfast.

For you who do not know, I do a little transporting from time to time. I work for a few different car dealerships in the area and I transport cars and trucks for them. Sometimes, if it is to just pick up a car, then another transporter and I will ride together to the dealership and pick up a car/truck and drive both vehicles back to the dealer. If it is just a swap, then I will drive one to the dealer and drive another one back. I have been to just about every state in the Southeast. I do it about one or twice a month. I won’t get rich, but if gives me a little spending money in my retirement.

Also, as some of you know, my step-daughter, Dr. Amber, is a veterinarian who owns and operates a low cost mobile spay and neuter clinic. She travels all over North Georgia to Pet Smarts, humane societies, animal shelters and other places who request her services. She is booked several months in advance, but some of the bookings are repeat customers. On Saturdays she goes to a neighborhood Pet Smart and adopts out dogs and cats – if you meet her strict guidelines to become a pet parent.

She has kennels in her back yard and she tries to save every Goddamn dog and cat she sees. Don’t get me wrong, though. If the pet is beyond saving, she will euthanize the animal, but it had better be pretty damn sick or just too mean to be sent out into the world.

She also works with many animal rescue agencies and is well known throughout the country for her work with animals, and she gets calls from many states looking for animals. When she gets some animals she feels she cannot adopt out but feels they could be adopted somewhere else, she gets on the phone. This week she had five dogs that needed to go to New Jersey to a “no kill” shelter (the only type shelters she will send dogs and cats.) So who does she call? The easiest mark she knows. I don’t charge her for my services, though. She pays for the gas, food and any motel I may need, and that’s okay with me. Since she runs a nonprofit organization, she doesn’t have a lot of cash for trivial things like paying her step-dad for helping her out. Besides, she’s family. So that’s why I was on the road, and why you are all going to get spanked as soon as I can do something with these damn pants.

Stop It

Okay, everyone! Stop blogging! I mean it. Stop! Don’t type anymore. I will be out of town making a dog run to a shelter in New Jersey and I won’t be able to read your stuff until I get back. And I don’t have time to read three days worth of your stories, complaints and lies.

I’ll be back on Thursday morning. You can start again on Wednesday, if you like, but not before.

Do what I say, now. Don’t make me take off my belt. When I do my pants fall down and you don’t want that. By the way, do you know where I can get a good pair of suspenders?

See y’all later.

The Old Girl Is Gone and I'm Not Far Behind

She died today. The old girl, after 25 years of loyal, faithful service, first to Sweet Tea and her family and then to me as I joined her clan, gave up the ghost. She was a Sharp Carousel microwave oven, and she proudly kept us nourished as only an oven can. She will be sadly missed – until we can get to Wal Mart tonight to adopt one of her kin.

That’s not the sad thing, though. It meant that I had to get my old coffee pot out this morning and boil water. The pot looks almost exactly like the icon over on the right side, and I have had it for more years than I care to think about – or can remember. But that’s not what is sad, either.

What’s sad is that after I put the pot of water on the stove to boil, I fixed myself a cup of instant coffee (Folgers, for you detail oriented types, and it is the only coffee I have at home) by putting the coffee in the cup and turning to the sink and filling the damn thing with water and stirring it while I walked over to the microwave (which was by this time resting in celestial repose in the garage next to the garbage can.) I looked up at the EMPTY space and then at the stove, and well… I’m old, dammit. I can’t be expected to remember everything, now, can I?

I’ll be better tomorrow. But I wonder if Sweet Tea will try to make instant coffee (a metaphor, please) after I am resting in silent repose out next to the garbage can? That’s not so far fetched, folks. Our plans are that we will be cremated and our ashes mixed together with half being poured over the beach on the Gulf and the other half being poured out in the mountains somewhere.

That’s a switch for me, too. Before I met and married Sweet Tea, I wanted my ashes put in a douche bag and run through one last time. But that wouldn’t be right now. So the present plan is in place.

And since I am six years older, a heart attack survivor and have type-two diabetes, chances are pretty good that I will go first. So the ashes will have to be stored someplace. So, I figure that it will be one less thing to dust if I am on the shelf in the garage. Maybe not, but you never know.