News Reporter: " the 3 jail escapees are STILL considered armed and dangerous this morning!". Darn - was hoping a good night's sleep would have mellowed em out a bit.
When subtle and oh so delicate sarcasm is lost in the vast digital universe of Facebook.
Punster: A dyslexic man walked into a bra.......
Comment: You misspelled "Bar"
Punster: Thank you so much. How's my punctuation?
Comment: Cool but you really shouldn't imply that all dyslexics drink. I mean what's the point?
Punster: Exactly
Morning news commentator: "I'm black and I don't take offense at a white actor playing Michael Jackson. After all, look at him in his later years- he was very light skinned and had white features. I just want to know- can this white guy dance? hmmmm
Friday, March 4, 2016
Where's all the fat people at?
Ever notice there's not any fat folks in most commercials ( unless it's a "before" picture for a weight loss product. Just watched a commercial set in a mall...dozens of folks walking around- all young, thin and well dressed. Not a gut, gray hair or" I'm with Stupid " t- shirt in sight. Think about that next time you're in North Park mall or heaven forbid- Walmart.
Exercise Anyone?
I have really put on the weight in the last couple of years – stress, age and a job that requires a lot of computer work and drive time have all colluded to inflate my spare tire. So –I’m thinking about dieting ---after the holidays. It’s a lot easier to think about it than actually do it.
Even though I’m not totally convinced of the need to be able to bounce a quarter off your stomach at the age of fifty five, I have made several attempts at exercise over the past few years. (You know its time to do something when you get out of breath while brushing your teeth.)
My most humiliating attempt involved a health club. I joined as a New Year’s resolution in January and paid $399 over the year. By the next Christmas, I had gained five pounds and I went to the management in hopes of getting my money back. I should have read the fine print in the contract because apparently their money back guarantee requires that you must actually go to the club and exercise. They should have told me this before I signed up.
Later I decided that I could exercise on my own and I took up power walking. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen people doing this activity but it involves moving your arms & legs in a most unnatural manner as you waddle down the street as if you have two pit bulls fighting it out in the seat of your pants. I had to give that up after only a week as I had started to attract spectators.
Over the years, Tracy & I have bought every kind of exercise machine ever invented by opportunistic sadists; from rowing machines, weight benches and treadmills to a strange little device called the Ab-Igator consisting of pulleys and ropes that you attach to a doorknob. The worst thing we ever bought was a giant rubber band that you placed under your feet and used for stretching exercises. It cost $29.99 plus $6.95 shipping and handling.
Many of these things ended up as a great place to hang our clothes and the only healthful exercise we got from most of them was the extra steps required to walk around them in the bedroom or from lugging them to the front lawn for the yearly yard sale. We did however use the rubber band. After we broke the knobs off the bedroom door with the Ab-Igator, I looped the band through the hole and we used it to open & close the door for a period of time.
I do think about exercising a lot; mostly after I’m already in the bed at night and there’s no risk of me actually getting up and doing any jumping jacks. When I do exercise, it’s limited to walking and I have to do it early in the morning before my brain wakes up and figures out what’s going on with the rest of my body.
But I’ve promised myself that after the holidays, I’m starting a stringent exercise program and whip myself back into shape; unless it’s raining or too cold or too windy or if there’s any pollen in the air or if there’s something good on TV. Then I’ll start after Valentine’s Day because when I die, I want to die healthy. But right now I’m going to have a glass of sweet tea and get ready for another Christmas Party tonight.
Even though I’m not totally convinced of the need to be able to bounce a quarter off your stomach at the age of fifty five, I have made several attempts at exercise over the past few years. (You know its time to do something when you get out of breath while brushing your teeth.)
My most humiliating attempt involved a health club. I joined as a New Year’s resolution in January and paid $399 over the year. By the next Christmas, I had gained five pounds and I went to the management in hopes of getting my money back. I should have read the fine print in the contract because apparently their money back guarantee requires that you must actually go to the club and exercise. They should have told me this before I signed up.
Later I decided that I could exercise on my own and I took up power walking. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen people doing this activity but it involves moving your arms & legs in a most unnatural manner as you waddle down the street as if you have two pit bulls fighting it out in the seat of your pants. I had to give that up after only a week as I had started to attract spectators.
Over the years, Tracy & I have bought every kind of exercise machine ever invented by opportunistic sadists; from rowing machines, weight benches and treadmills to a strange little device called the Ab-Igator consisting of pulleys and ropes that you attach to a doorknob. The worst thing we ever bought was a giant rubber band that you placed under your feet and used for stretching exercises. It cost $29.99 plus $6.95 shipping and handling.
Many of these things ended up as a great place to hang our clothes and the only healthful exercise we got from most of them was the extra steps required to walk around them in the bedroom or from lugging them to the front lawn for the yearly yard sale. We did however use the rubber band. After we broke the knobs off the bedroom door with the Ab-Igator, I looped the band through the hole and we used it to open & close the door for a period of time.
I do think about exercising a lot; mostly after I’m already in the bed at night and there’s no risk of me actually getting up and doing any jumping jacks. When I do exercise, it’s limited to walking and I have to do it early in the morning before my brain wakes up and figures out what’s going on with the rest of my body.
But I’ve promised myself that after the holidays, I’m starting a stringent exercise program and whip myself back into shape; unless it’s raining or too cold or too windy or if there’s any pollen in the air or if there’s something good on TV. Then I’ll start after Valentine’s Day because when I die, I want to die healthy. But right now I’m going to have a glass of sweet tea and get ready for another Christmas Party tonight.
Politically Correct- Green Beans?
What could be more innocuous than green beans? As a food, they are about as plain and simple and politically correct as anything I can imagine. I mean they even have the socially responsible word “green“ in their name. But then Facebook is a truly different world.
I saw what appeared to be a tasty recipe for green beans posted by an individual on my timeline a couple of days ago. I read it- it looked pretty good and then I saw a long list of comments. Thinking that I could find out if others liked it, I started reading a few. Most comments were pretty standard - “Like it” – “good but try it with this ingredient or that ingredient”, etc. But then it got weird.
Someone made a rather snide comment about overcooking the beans (like we do in the South) and as how that was socially irresponsible and cooked all the nutrients out of the dish. Many folks rushed to the defense of the recipe poster but somehow the conversation turned – drastically .
It somehow became a platform for social causes such as a need to provide more for the poor and food quality in soup kitchens. Someone enough posted their manifesto against human consumption of milk which was strange because the recipe didn’t call for any milk products. But when your cause is “milk is poison” and “we’re stealing milk from all those baby cows”, I guess you take your shot wherever you can.
All I can say is that some of us just ain’t right.
Brain Fluff
Be thankful. Even a manure pile is the result of some form of successful endeavor.
With this new Star Wars craze, I got to thinking... You know there's got to be some guy out there who is about to turn 40 named Chewbacca Jones.
Well apparently I didn't get Mark Zuckerberg's stock last night and I guess I'll have to start paying for my Facebook account next Spring ($9.99) cause I couldn't get my Facebook icon to turn any bluer than it was. I haven't heard from Bill Gates lately either.
I'm afraid Jesus may not love me anymore cause I failed to like someone's post. I also am confused about this Sharia law that Obama's gonna put us under. Do I have to have more wives or can I keep the one I've got?
And who is this Jade Helm gal and where did she disappear to?
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
The Recruit
Grown men losing their minds over the college choice of a 17 year old. We've had a parachute jump, a pro wrestler and Snoop Dog as kids craving attention grab their 15 minutes. A while back we even had a kid base his college decision on a coin toss.
Let's just be honest and give into our baser instincts. How about a reality show on ESPN called The Recruit. The kid is courted by a bevy of Division 1 coaches as he weeds them out by presenting highlight films on each episode. The winner drives off into the sunset with the Recruit in a Cadillac Escalade filled with cheerleaders and athletic shoes.
Let's just be honest and give into our baser instincts. How about a reality show on ESPN called The Recruit. The kid is courted by a bevy of Division 1 coaches as he weeds them out by presenting highlight films on each episode. The winner drives off into the sunset with the Recruit in a Cadillac Escalade filled with cheerleaders and athletic shoes.
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