1. You Must Be This High To Ride This Ride
2. There’s No “P” In Pool
3. Harvey Birdman, Attorney At Law
4. Aqua Teen Hunger Force
5. Sealab 2021
6. Brak Show
7. English Channel Swim
8. Bobby G. Can’t Swim
1. You Must Be This High To Ride This Ride
Adult Swim is a unique kind of Must-See TV found on the Cartoon Network. Catering a fast food sized gem of cartoon hilarity to a crowd that has become too jaded and aware for network fare. These viewers need something with juice and Adult Swim delivers on all accounts.
2. There’s No “P” In Pool
The shows in the Adult Swim line-up know about our attention deficit and don’t bore us with unnecessary drivel. For instance, Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law lasts on 15 minutes and they pack the laughs in there tighter than ***. To play in this pool, you’ll want to close your laptop and shut off the cell phone because the rapid-fire jokes and humor are slung at you a mile a minute.
3. Harvey Birdman, Attorney At Law
Harvey Birdman the Attorney was once Birdman the superhero, but he is now a dimwitted practicing lawyer. All his cases involve legal disputes between other cartoon characters. He’s handled cases involving a custody battle for young Jonny Quest, a copyright infringement dispute between the Chan Clan and Jabberjaw and defended Scooby and Shaggy on trumped-up pot charges.
With hammer in hand, the mighty Thor plays the judge. One of the episodes does a slippery Sopranos parody with Fred Flintstone aka the Dabba Don. He comes to Harvey to defend his many “businesses”. During the course of the 15-minute episode you get to see Harvey’s assistant defect to the side of the gangsters, Harvey adding commentary to old Flintstone’s footage and a pterodactyl lamp taking the stand.
4. Aqua Teen Hunger Force
Aqua Teen Hunger Force is about a group of human-sized food items living together in South Jersey. A pistachio milkshake, a bag of fries and a meatball have banded together to form a crime-fighting trio. As lazy as they may be, they make an effort to rid the New Jersey suburbs of unwanted mischief and crime.
This wacky trio was originally conceived to appear on the hit Cartoon Network talk show, Space Ghost Coast-to-Coast. Ah, but the network knows a good thing when they see it and gave these misfits a fighting chance with their own show during the ever popular nighttime line-up of more mature cartoon fare known as Adult Swim.
5. Sealab 2021
Aww, the drama of precariously doomed underwater colony and its personnel members that can’t stand one another. The year is 2021 and in the depths of the big blue ocean resides a monumentally high-tech compound known to all as Sealab. With a multi-national scientific staff and a trillion dollar budget the lab is dedicated to the research and exploration of the mysteries of the deep.
Underwater colonization is the order of the day since the surface of the Earth has gotten crowded, hot and icky. As is the case with most government agencies, Sealab is manned by a motley rabble of malcontents and misfits who are unfit for work in the private sector. This hapless crew have manipulated their wayward leader, Captain Murphy into submission and are purely content with riding the government clock, raking in a fat hazardous-duty paycheck. The humor here strikes a deep cord in reality and is some of the funniest stuff to ever grace the Cartoon Network.
Here’s an excerpt between the Captain and Marco:
Marco: Calm down, I'll see what I can do about finding your little toy.
Captain Murphy: It's not a toy, it makes real cupcakes, with a 40-watt bulb, and there's icing packets. But the secret ingredient is love. Damn it.
Marco: Just try to calm down, go have some pudding.
Captain Murphy: Pudding can't fill the emptiness inside me! But it'll help.
6. Brak Show
"The Brak Show is the story of a neighborhood. It's the story of a family. It's the story of what happens when adults have children and those children go to school. And Brak is in it. He lives in a house. A house on a quiet street not unlike yours or mine. A house in a neighborhood. That's The Brak Show."
That’s the network’s official description of their new hit sitcom starring Brak, the absent-minded space pirate from the Space Ghost cartoons. He goes through all the typical sitcom situations with his friend Zorak. Also along for the ride are Brak's parents, his brother Sisto, and his next-door neighbor Thundercleese.
7. English Channel Swim
The hilarious giant block of mature-themed entertainment also includes the shows: Baby Blues, Cowboy Bebop, InuYasha, Lupin the 3rd, Mission Hill, The Oblongs, Reign: The Conqueror, The Ripping Friends and Trigun.
Joining the lineup are ex-Fox Network nighttime toons, The Family Guy and Futurama.
8. Bobby G. Can’t Swim
The cornerstone of the parade of humor is former superhero, Space Ghost and his hit talk show, Space Ghost Coast-to-Coast.
Remember the acclaimed Superhero Space Ghost? Well now in his 40's he is no longer a superhero, and goes by his real name Tad Ghostal. However to remain in the spot light he has started his own late night talk show filmed in his studio in outer space.
With his co-host and former villain Zorak, and his director Moltar they interview movie stars on earth through their videophone. Space Ghost has conducted interviews with many big celebrities including Jim Carrey, Weird Al Yankovic, Johnny Carson and Cameron Diaz.
Truly Trivial: There was once an episode where Space Ghost’s evil twin brother Chad visits the show to cause havoc.
Adult Swim - You Must Be This High To Ride This Ride
Milk Goats - Know Thy Enemy
Patience may be a virtue, but laughter is the only way to survive goat milking. You can strive for the perfect fencing. You must aim for good nutrition. But, don’t kid yourself. When it comes to milking, you do not get the last word.
When I decided to add milk goats to my backyard farm I envisioned pitchers of milk cooling in the fridge while cheddar rounds age in my cellar. Spirit, my first nanny, had other ideas. There is an old saying I just made up: “Don’t expect instant gratification from your very first dairy goat lactation.” Like dating, expecting nothing is the first step toward not being let down. Perseverance is the next step toward surviving goats with your sanity moderately intact.
Spirit proved mutinous in milking. Even with twins at her side, she had ample milk to share. Generosity was simply not her forte. However, like falling off a bike or getting thrown from your horse, when you find a goat leg lodged in your right ear, you must climb right back on.
To help other potential farmers deal with inevitable frustration, I have provided the following journal. It documents my first full month of milking Spirit. From this draw hope. There is light at the end of the nipple.
Day 1: Leashed goat runs around tie post kicking and bucking. Never got near the teat.
Day 2: Build "EZ One Hour Goat Milking Stand" from online instructions. Define five hours in hell.
Day 3: Adjust Goat Milking Stand so goat’s big fat head will fit through the stocks into the feed box.
Day 4: Adjust Goat Milking Stand so goat’s skinny little head will not retreat from feed box out through the stocks.
Day 5: Collect 3.5 tsp. milk from flailing goat on milking stand.
Day 6: Dido.
Day 7: Tether goat’s leg. Goat kicks loose in .3 seconds.
Day 8: Tether goat’s leg better. Goat kicks loose dumping over 3.5 tsp. of milk.
Day 9: Try new tethering technique. Collect entire ounce of milk. Goat’s effort to kick loose succeeds only after she sheds 3.5 tsp. of hair into the shot glass of milk.
Day 10: Go to store. Buy milk.
Day 11 – 14: Discouraged. Just squirt some milk straight onto the milking stand so that the apparently dwindling right teat stays active.
Day 15: Goat now standing still while I collect three ounces of milk. Then the cantankerous witch sticks her foot in it.
Day 16 – 18: Dido, dido and dido.
Day 19: Right teat has all but vanished.
Day 20: Right teat empty.
Day 21: Spirit’s legal team serves me with papers declaring her functional left teat off limits and for her babies only.
Day 22 – 23: Practice milking technique while coaxing droplets from withered right teat.
Day 24: Have mastered milking with right hand while my left hand holds the receptacle up, dodging the maniacal wenches attempts put her foot in the milk. Net bounty from flat tit approx 1.4 oz. Note: Goat still shedding.
Day 25-26: Milk rations slightly increasing. Goat and cottonwood trees now both shedding into the milk receptacle.
Day 27: Babies distract me by biting my shirt while I am milking. Spirit’s foot returns to the milk receptacle.
Day 28: Babies adamant about eating my clothes while I milk. I steal milk from their precious left teat.
Day 29: Babies try to distract me by eating my hair. I try to ignore them. Goat flinches. My foot avoider reflex overcompensates, hurling the milk directly inside my protective LASIK goggles. Startled by my French, both babies run off in opposite directions with my hair still in their mouths.
Day 30: And the beat goes on.
Day 31: Average daily yield now totals around 10 oz. Source: two milkings per day from 1.2 tits.
Remember, when the day comes, and it will, where you just walk up to your nanny and quickly squirt a little milk straight into your morning coffee then wander off sobbing, bear in mind with a little patience, all this can be yours.
The Bare Truth About My Butt Quiz
Forget about the SAT, never mind the FCAT, and remove forever from you mind any thoughts about the ACT. All these test pale in comparision to the examination that I just failed. Failing those test may have minor repurcussions like never making it into college and therefore being forced to work at fast food resturants well into you 40's. That's nothing. I just flunked a quiz that could scar me for life.
This morning I was doing my usual morning ritual of checking my email and all my affiliate programs to see if I had made any money online yesterday. I hadn't, in fact I never do, but I've found it's a great way to waste an hour or two. What usually happens is I get sidetracked by some banner or pop-up and I end up lost in the middle of cyberspace signing up for a free registration to some weird website just so I can get a free ebook with a title like 'Online Profits From Artichoke Juice!". This morning, however, I stumbled across a real winner. I came across a link that I just had to click. I was at JokesUnlimited.com reading redneck jokes when I saw 'Fun Quizzes: Can you guess which butts are male or female?
From the extreme look of excitement in your eyes I can tell that you feel the same way I felt when I saw the Butt Quiz link. My first thought was: 'Pictures of female butts! Yeeeessss! And it's a quiz so I don't have to feel dirty about it. It's educational! Yeeeesssss! I immediately clicked the link and started my quiz.
In hindsight(no pun intended), the expression 'Fools Rush In' comes to mind. I blindly rushed into this quiz in a testosterone induced urge to look at female hindparts and I forgot to think the whole thing through. I forgot to take a moment and reflect. I forgot that there were going to be male hindparts on the quiz too. Hairy male hindparts. In thongs.
Needless to say, I failed the quiz. I got 8 out of 15 right. That's about 60 percent. An 'F' in almost all 50 states. Even New Jersey. I, Tim Ward, humor columnist and straight male could not distinguish between the gluteus maximus of the male and female gender. I started to wonder: Were some of the butts that I said were female really male? If so, does that mean I find some men's butts attractive? Do I have a male butt fetsih that I didn't know about? Do I secretly enjoy slapping guys on the butt after a good sports play? And what about the woman's butts that I classified incorrectly? Has it really been that long since I've seen a bare female behind? Am I forgetting what the female body looks like?
All these questions have been running through my head since I failed my first Butt Quiz. It got to the point where I'm thinking about scheduling a retest. But this time I'll be sure to plenty of studying in advance. So ladies, if you see me taking large hard looks at your posterior region, I'm not a pervert, I'm just doing a little research. And to the fellas, forgive me if I give more that the usual amount of congratulatory butt slaps on the basketball court for awhile. I'm just trying to further my education...And maybe work through a fetish or two.
Gone Fishing For Trivia
1. We all know that fish travel in schools, but do you know some other plural fishey names?
A. Clutch
B. Shoal
C. Draft
D. Wave
E. All of the above
F. None of the above
G. B and C
G. B and C
TBD: It should have been wave though, don't you think?
2. Can you name the phobia that means a fear of fish?
A. Ichthyophobia
B. Limnophobia
C. Entomophobia
D. Pantophobia
A. Ichthyophobia
TBD: If you have a fear of lakes you suffer from limnophobia, of insects you have entomophobia, and of everything its pantophobia.
3. How do fish hear?
A. They don't
B. Through sound vibrations reverberating through the bones of their skull
C. Through their gills
D. Through their fins
B. Through sound vibrations reverberating through the bones of their skull
TBD: Fish hear without the aid of external ears. Sound vibrations reverberate through the bones of the skull to an internal ear. Fish also possess unique sensory organs called lateral lines. These canals along the sides of the fish can sense vibrations and, in some species, weak electrical fields.
4. What do you call a baby fish?
A. A guppy
B. A fry
C. A minnow
D. A baby fish
B. A fry
TBD: We guess that's where the expression "small fry" came from!
5. How do Anarctic icefish survive in freezing water?
A. Special antifreeze chemicals in their blood
B. Extra layers of fat which earned them the nickname "Puffy Fish"
C. Constant high level of motion to keep blood circulating
D. There is no such fish
A. Special antifreeze chemicals in their blood
TBD: We would have thought this was a made up answer if we hadn't researched it ourselves!
6. Just how much hot water can fish take?
A. Pot boilers in Ecuador survive in hot springs approaching 200 degrees Fahrenheit
B. Desert pupfish found in hot springs of western North America live in temperatures higher than 100 degrees Fahrenheit
C. Some fresh-water fish can take temperatures up to 80 degrees Fahrenheit without difficulty
D. Anything over 60 degrees Fahrenheit causes distress
B. Desert pupfish found in hot springs of western North America live in temperatures higher than 100 degrees Fahrenheit
TBD: We know we couldn't live in those springs without cooking!
7. How high can a flying fish fly?
A. 6 feet
B. 36 feet
C. 60 feet
D. 360 feet
B. 36 feet
TBD: Their flight may consist of several glides, in which they repeatedly return to the surface of the water long enough to renew their propelling power. They rise to a maximum of about 36 feet into the air and glide as far as 200 yards.
8. Just how fast can a fish swim?
A. Never over 40 mph
B. Barely 50 mph
C. About 60 mph
D. Over 70 mph
D. Over 70 mph
TBD: The fastest-swimming fish are the billfish and the tunas. One billfish, the sailfish, can swim in bursts of speed over 70 mph.
9. Known as one of the fastest fish, tunas are also built for long-distance endurance. How far do tuna migrate?
A. 7700 miles
B. 770 miles
C. 77 miles
D. 7 miles
A. 7700 miles
TBD: Swimming as fast as 30 mph, they migrate as far as 7700 miles in only four months.
10. What are the biggest fish?
A. Whales
B. Whale sharks
C. Great white sharks
D. Leviathans
B. Whale sharks
TBD: Whale sharks can reach 40 feet in length. Yes, whales are bigger, but they are not fish. Fish are cold-blooded and breathe underwater using gills; whales, on the other hand, maintain a warm and constant body temperature.
Diary Complaints
My wife keeps a diary, and sometimes leaves it open with the last entry in view on the coffee table. I'm a person who wouldn't want to read another person's diary, even my wife's, diaries being personal. But out of a corner of my eye, on the diary page, I saw my name. I couldn't help reading.
"I can't let John's negativity get to me," the diary read.
What do ya' mean, negative? I thought. I'm not negative. Sure, I complain a little because I'm not a rich man. I have a relative who gets paid thousands of dollars, a lower-middle-class jerk who all he does is count couches at a furniture outlet. The guy thinks Arnold Schwarzenegger is a good actor. That's how dumb he is, and he makes all this money.
I'm the only man in my family who could have taken the bad luck I've had without becoming a drug addict, or ending up in a lunatic asylum, and for this I'm called negative. I work endlessly without a vacation. I put up with a sassy kid and a wife who takes me for granted.
Me negative?
Grumbling, I moved past the diary and went outside to mow the lawn. The next day, Sunday, my wife left the house, and the diary was open again and there was a new passage.
"Why do I have to deal with such stress?" It read. "I can't stand this complaining. We've become more distanced than ever. Yet, John has such spirit and sensitivity........"
"Well, at least that last part is good," I told the diary.
"He needs to not feel the world is against him," the diary added.
The world's against me? I never said that. Remember when Cynthia (my wife's friend), that college, over-educated snob (she thinks she's better because she's a Hollywood script writer who knows the names of all the English kings). Remember when her father died in Hawaii, and I forgot, and she came back from the funeral and I innocently asked, thinking she had gone there on a vacation, "how was Hawaii?"
"Don't dare say that," Cynthia had bitterly snarled.
It was an innocent mistake. Cynthia had no right to get mad. But I took her guff. I wanted to throw her out a window, but I didn't. I just decided I'd never speak to her again.
Disgusted, I put the diary down and went and racked the dishes in the automatic dishwasher. Wiping my hands, I returned, picked up the diary, and flipped back a page.
"John doesn't listen. He interrupts and has to have the last word," it read.
"Bull!"
I took a pencil and made my own entry in the diary. I copied my wife's style of handwriting. "My husband is a handsome, muscular saint," I wrote. "I really should allow him some vices."
© Copyright 2004 by SammonSays.com
Under A Cuban Moon
Cuban authorities have implemented strict security measures at the embarkation points for the small ferries crossing Havana bay.Now, before boarding, all passengers must go through a metal detector. Newly posted signs warn passengers they can’t carry furniture or birthday cakes…
You know how it is on a stormy night when you take the ferry across Havana Bay and you smell the fear of the passengers as the waves call you to your death and the drunken ferry captain almost falls overboard three times before the rope to the harbour wall has been cast off.
The captain is drunk again, I said to my brother Ramon.
Not on his salary, Ramon said, He is dizzy with the danger.
Yes that is how it is , I said. But this danger that makes him dizzy does not affect us.
It is not that kind of danger, Ramon said.
And so we stood on the deck in the rain, all 65 of us, as the small ferry made its way across the bay.
After a few minutes, Ramon spoke again: It is the other kind of danger, like when a young chiquita comes down from the hills and sees the city for the first time. And she brings with her the smell of ripe bananas and sweet oranges so that when she walks along the street, the old men look up from their chess board and sigh: Aiy bananas, while the young men straighten their trousers and moan: Aiy Chiquita. That is how it is.
So we stood on the rain-lashed deck and prayed to God to keep a firm grip on the captain’s cojones for as long as it took. Five more minutes passed and Ramon leaned close to me and whispered : La fiesta no es para los feos. It was the signal to do what we must do and I moved through the people to get closer to the captain’s position near the front. Yes it is true I thought: this party is not for the ugly ones, but an ugly one may still start his own party. Did not Fidelissimo show us how?
When I got close to the captain, I saw it in his eyes that he still had the madness upon him. I tapped him on the shoulder and when he turned around, I pulled out the armchair from where I had hidden it in my shirt pocket and pointed it at his chest. La fiesta es perdido I said. E mas perdido. I could see from the look that came into his eyes that he had once been a good man. One of the good ones, maybe even one of the best, but tonight he stared at the armchair pointing at him and he knew that death had joined the passengers without paying a single peso. Verdad.
The captain, although he had once been one of the good ones gave a loud belch like an elephant getting up from a mud hole and the cloud of tobacco,tequila and three-bean stew caused the passengers to stumble back towards the stern of the ferry.
Que pasa? said the captain like a man waking in a gutter who feels a hand in his trouser pocket that is not his own hand. I held the armchair against his temple, and if you were not there you can never know the shiver of fear that wracked his wobbling frame. I made my voice the sound of the grave. Ramon, give me the thing, I called and he was at my side like the wind. In his hands he carried the thing that had kept us alive for the last five years. The thing that we had traded our mule, two machetes and a hundred bananas for. The thing we had to have, in the way that an old and rich man looks at a young chica in her Sunday dress and becomes an old fool for the rest of his life. Such was the nature of this thing that we had treasured.
With infinite care, Ramon peeled back the corners of the oil cloth that wrapped it, and when the light of the moon caught the shine of it, even the captain drew a quick breath.
While I held the armchair steady on the captain, Ramon leaned over and placed the thing that we had brought on the shelf in front of the steering wheel.
I stepped back and held the armchair at my side: Mi Capitan, I said in a firm voice while the other passengers crowded round,..You will take us to this thing you see before you. You will not stop until you reach it. And when we are there, we will sit around a table, you and I, and drink the best rum with real cocacola and speak of the past and the future, as men do who have looked at their feet for a long time but now choose to look at the stars.
The captain looked at me for a long time.
I knew you were the one, he said, you have a light that shines above your head, and also… he gave a small smile like a man who will not give his cards away…you have a big armchair… Then he turned to the steering wheel and took it in both his sun-darkened hands and pushed the throttle to maximum power while the rest of us stood carefully and watched the thing on the shelf ahead of him that would guide all of us to a different day. It was small but Madre Mio it shone like an angel to guide our way. One of the passengers said it was named El Statudo de Liberdad…
© Bill Dollar 2005
Halloween Howler
1. What rock star worked as a gravedigger before starting his musical career?
A. Roy Orbison
B. Billy Joel
C. Mick Jaggar
D. Rod Stewart
1. What famous rock star worked as a gravedigger before starting his musical career?
D. Rod Stewart
TBD: That wasn't The QuizQueen's guess either, but that's what the research says!
2. Which tradition was NOT a precursor to Halloween?
A. The Celtic tradition of giving thanks at the close of the harvest season?
B. The European tradition of lighting candles and masquerading in costume to scare evil spirits away.
C. The celebration of the birth of Marilyn Manson.
D. The Irish custom where wealthy landowners would give food to the poor in hopes that the ghosts would look favorably on them and spare them from mischief.
2. Which tradition was NOT a precursor to Halloween?
C. The celebration of the birth of Marilyn Manson.
TBD: Gosh The QuizQueen sure hopes you got that right. Although who knows what historians in the next Millenium will conclude after studying the effluvium we leave behind.
3. Which phobia is the fear of Halloween?
A. Caspariophobia
B. Samhainophobia
C. Demonophobia
D. Boophobia
3. Which phobia is the fear of Halloween?
B. Samhainophobia
TBD: Personally, The QuizQueen has always been more frightened of Caspar than Celts, but you can't quibble with the facts.
4. Where does the name "Halloween" come from?
A. In Scotland, the Celtic Feast of the Sun, which marked the end of summer was known as "Hallowe'en."
B. In Ireland, the Celtic Feast of the Sun, which marked the end of summer was known as "Hollow Eve."
C. The Druids held a ritual on that night honoring the leader of their sect. His name was Hal Ween.
D. The Roman ceremony of burying a hollow casket to trap evil spirits beneath the ground.
4. Where does the name "Halloween" come from?
A. In Scotland, the Celtic Feast of the Sun, which marked the end of summer was known as "Hallowe'en."
TBD: The QuizQueen really hopes you didn't answer "C" here.
5. What is the purpose of a witch's familiar?
A. Hey, everybody has to have a friend, even Broomhilda.
B. The stooge she sends out to lure innocent victims to her lair.
C. An animal, such as a black cat, that amplifies her power.
D. Every witch is required to have a black cat, according to coven code, so it has become tradition to see the "familiar" black cat at a witch's side.
5. What is the purpose of a witch's familiar?
C. An animal, such as a black cat, that amplifies her power.
TBD: While "A" might be true, this is the real answer.
6. Lycanthropy is a term derived from Greek. What does it mean?
A. A psychiatric state in which the patient believes he or she is a wolf.
B. A person with a deadly fear of wearing Lycra (which is used in the making of some Halloween costumes).
C. A devotee of Lycos, the ancient Roman god whose feast was originally held on Halloween.
D. An inductee of the cult of Zeus which held a yearly gathering on Mt. Lycaeus.
6. Lycanthropy is a term derived from Greek. What does it mean?
A. A psychiatric state in which the patient believes he or she is a wolf.
TBD: The QuizQueen has always wondered what they call someone with a deadly fear of Lycra…
7. How did the "jack-o-lantern" get that name?
A. An old man named Jack who was too mean even to get into hell. The Devil gave him a piece of burning coal and sent him away. Jack used a turnip to hold the burning coal and serve as a lantern.
B. The Devil's favorite dish is pumpkin pie and a clever man named Jack carved all the pumpkins in town into lanterns to drive the Devil away with a blaze of bright light and of course deprive him of his treat.
C. In ancient times, when children went trick-or-treating, they were guided by a man who carried a lantern. The guide was called a "Jack."
D. The man who first cultivated the potato and carved it into a lantern was named Jack.
7. How did the "jack-o-lantern" get that name?
A. A mean old man named Jack who was too mean even to get into hell. The Devil gave him a piece of burning coal and sent him away. Jack used a turnip to hold the burning coal and serve as a lantern.
TBD: You should deduct points if you guessed any of The QuizQueen's creative answers!
8. Can you pick out Halloween's former name?
A. All Hallow's Eve
B. All Hallow's Day
C. All Hallowmass
D. All Soul's Day
8. Can you pick out Halloween's former name?
A. All Hallow's Eve
TBD: The important thing to remember is that it was the NIGHT before!
9. The word warlock is a derivation of the Saxon-English term "war-loek" which means what?
A. Man with the magic hands
B. Oath breaker
C. Witch's husband
D. Doomed one
9. The word warlock is a derivation of the saxon-english term "war-loek" which means what?
B. Oath breaker.
TBD: Did you sing along with "A"?
10. The Celtics would carry a lantern when they walked on the eve of October 31st. These first "jack-o-lanterns" were carved with faces to scare evil spirits away. What vegetable was originally used to make a "jack-o-lantern?"
A. Turnip
B. Potato
C. Pumpkin
D. Watermelon
10. The Celtics would carry a lantern when they walked on the eve of October 31st. These first "jack-o-lanterns" were carved with faces to scare evil spirits away. What vegetable was originally used to make a "jack-o-lantern?"
A. Turnip
TBD: Sometimes you don't even need to set up the joke.
Chicken Rearing 101 – How Not to Raise Chickens
Chick: A hatchling
Capon: A castrated male used for meat. (How much could that yield?)
Pullet: A female chicken under one year old.
Hen: A female chicken over one year of age
Rooster: A male chicken over one year of age.
Raising Chickens for the first time can be intimidating. When I first called the Feed Shop, I was trying to sound like a pro. I asked, “Do you sell pullets?” “Yes”, the man replied. “Are they all females?” It’s been an uphill battle ever since.
Pullet parenthood is an much of an adventure as child rearing, only with more feces per pound of body weight. However, I’ve been reading quite a bit on poultry matters. (Yes, my coolness just turned over in its grave.) So if I am correct and I am quite certain I am not, here is how chicken rearin’ goes.
Go to your local feed store and purchase $10.00 worth of chicks and $50 worth of food and supplies. Don’t forget the water dispensers. Buying the metal ones, never plastic is always advised. I have yet to see a metal one.
Next, place the chicks somewhere sheltered, like a bedroom closet. Toss in some highly flammable straw or wood shavings and promptly dangle a glowing heat lamp just above them. Note to self: Update homeowner’s policy.
For the next several weeks feed them 3 lbs of food per day and remove 4 lbs of sh*t per day from the closet. Despite all logic the birds get bigger. As the adult feathers grow in be sure to clip one of their wings. That is one per bird, not just one wing total. If clipping is done late chicks will nest in your toilet. This is a bad thing.
Clipping can be accomplished by tossing your scissors and your body into the heaping mound of chicks, poop and straw. Grab a wiggling screeching bird from the bile pile. Restrain it with one hand. Stretch the wing out with your second hand. Clip off 50% of the wings outer ten feathers with your third hand.
As the birds grow adjust the heat light temperature down by one degree per day. No, this is not actually possible. That’s not my point. You start at 100 degrees for hatchlings then continue down by one degree per day until your bedroom is a minimum of 3 degrees cooler than the spring blizzard outside your window.
Once you have frozen your ear to your semi-cannibalistic down pillow and the chicks have grown their adult feathers, they can be moved outside to the coop. I estimate the initial closet rearing stage to have taken five years.
Before the move, experience the Joy of Wing Clipping one more time. Feather clipping never works the first time. No one knows why. Still, after all the hassle you probably don’t want them to fly the coop in under sixty seconds. Of course, if you’re like me, by this time you may be inclined to pack them each a lunch and leave a stack of Greyhound tickets by the open coop gate.
Regarding habitat construction: Hen houses and chicken coops are a competitive art form. There are a myriad of web sites showing off architectural designs from Chicken Chateaus to Bird Bordellos. The meticulous craftsmanship makes my own home look like – well – like a chicken coop.
Always fashionable, I went with a shabby chic motif for my coop. The nesting boxes are an eclectic mix of stolen milk crates affixed to the wall by anything in arms reach. As for the coop itself, there is a gift for tight chicken wire, which eludes me. Quite frankly, my first attempt at a coop looks like Dr. Seuss dropped a hit of acid, blasted some Jefferson Starship and rolled around on the wire with every Who in Whoville. I think I’ll keep it.
Inferior design aside, I ultimately learned a thing or two. The nesting boxes are supposed to be up off the ground. That is correct. For those of you keeping score you just spent two weeks cutting back the birds flight feathers only to hang their houses in the sky. It’s just sick.
Higher than the nest boxes, you are to build a roost. This is where the birds crap at night so they do not crap on your breakfast eggs. Of course the roost is usually OVER the nesting boxes, so whatever you do, don’t use those perforated plastic milk crates.
For young birds maintain a heat light in the hen house. Then on cooler nights an animal with a brain the size of an bulimic toe nail clipping will make the conscious decision to forgo your nest boxes, bypass the instinctual roost and leap into a tanning bed.
And finally there is the feed regime. I asked several experts and read up on feeding as well. Make sure to give your chickens, starter formula, mash, growth formula, start & grow, brood formula, grit, no grit, scraps, no scraps, goat placenta, nothing suggested on the internet, tetramyaicn, no antibiotics, medicated starter, non-medicated starter and never ever switch in-between.
I may not be Queen of the Coop yet, but I’m working on it. Though I am still a zoologist and I still know Birds 101. Here are two myths I can help with. First, you do not need a rooster to get eggs. Most folk, especially those who have never owned chickens, will advise you on chickens. Each will insist you need a rooster for a while to do his manly duties, then you can slip him in the pot. As appealing as this concept is, your pot is a separate issue.
Roosters are only needed to make fertile eggs. Hens are all that is needed to make breakfast eggs. Fertile eggs are just peachy if raising chicks was such a joy the first time you want to repeat the whole freakin’ process. In addition there is always the risk of breaking a fertilized egg open and finding a 50% formed chick fetus hitting your hot skillet. Yum! Years of therapy will follow.
To keep it straight in your mind consider this: You are going about your life. Suddenly massive balls of calcium start stacking up inside your abdomen. Are you going to hold on to them just because you have not had sex lately?
The second bird myth is totally unrelated so I thought I would mention it. Penguins occur in nature from the Equator on Southward. That is down to the Antarctica, not the Arctic! No, they do not hang out with Polar Bears who live in the Arctic. No, you did not see them when you worked in Alaska, in the Arctic. Those were puffins. No, I am not sorry you look stupid to all those folks you told penguin tales to.
Yes, some penguin species even reside on the Galapagos Islands at the equator (Cold weather would kill them), not floating around on icebergs - and not in the Arctic! Yes, I realize my eggs are not all in one basket. Delusional, close-minded people who insist you need a rooster to fertilize your penguin eggs so polar bears won’t loose their food supply drove me crazy!
How to Make More Sales by Using Humor
If you are a salesperson doing a PowerPoint presentation or you simply have to talk in front of a large group of people, then you know how hard it is to get your ideas across. Here is one trick I've learned the hard way that will help you and will make your job a whole lot easier!
Use humor! Use humor!! Use humor!!! (...as you see, I like repeating)
Humor will put your clients/listeners/readers at ease and will help break the ice as well as set a tone with the audience that helps to loosen everyone up a little. Everybody (from Donald Trump and Bill Gates to John Doe) loves to laugh and disconnect for a little from this, otherwise, overly serious world.
If you have a natural talent for humor, then go for it -- make your own routine, but keep it relatively simple and try not to overdo it. If you feel uncertain what to do, use the services of professional humorists who can help you! Humor will make a presentation much easier to listen to and much more fun for you to create and present it.
All different types of humor work best in different situations. Some speakers always start with a joke, or tell a funny story in the beginning of their speech to break the ice.
But not everyone has a talent for telling a joke or a funny story right. There are too many examples of bad stand up comics...Relax! There is an easier way!
Use cartoons! They are perfect to communicate your thoughts and your message, and have proven to be one of the best marketing tools. A recent New Yorker survey shows that newspaper readers typically check the cartoons out first before reading the actual articles.
Cartoons are great, because they will deliver your message at a first glance. A good cartoon can attract your clients' attention and make it easier for you to do the rest!
Where do you get cartoons? Probably one of the best online sources is eToon.com (http://www.etoon.com), a cartoon licensing company created by Vlad Kolarov (http://www.evlad.com), a professional cartoonist with over 27 years experience. At eToon.com you can select from tens of thousands of cartoons and get licenses for multiple purposes.
Doing it is extremely easy. You can search for a cartoon by topic, keyword or author. After choosing the best cartoon for you, you can find out how much it will cost to license it, pay for it with a credit card and then you can download it.
The licensing fees are quite reasonable for most businesses and individuals. For example, you can download and use a cartoon in a PowerPoint presentation for only $35!
There are, of course, occasions when you can not find a suitable cartoon...No problem! Just email a cartoonist for a custom made one. Vlad Kolarov can make a custom cartoon for you in usually 24 hours. The cost, of course, is a bit higher, but it is definitely worth it! (You can email Vlad here: http://www.evlad.com/contact-info )
Cartoons work great not only for presentations, but in other ways too, such as:
-- Advertising: Many Fortune 1000 companies (from Coca Cola to Volkswagen) use cartoons in their ads. There is a reason why!
-- Email Campaigns: Cartoons are fun and they will grab your clients' attention
-- Company Newsletters: If you want your employees to really read your newsletters, give them something fun!
-- Training Manuals: a fun way to break up the often boring training sessions. Cartoons provide grait visual aid and reinforce important information by making it easy to remember.
-- Fax Cover Sheets: fax cover sheets beg for a good cartoon!
-- Websites & Intranets: give your clients/employees a great reason to check in on all your company information too.
All in all, cartoons are an original, extremely effective way of marketing and delivering across important messages to your clients and prospects. They make you stand out from the crowd and your business a success.
The Blonde Joke's On Us: The Dumbest Woman On Earth Was Not A Blonde
I've lived my entire adult life with "dumb blonde" jokes. Whoever started them, probably spawned by pornographers allured by Marylyn Monroe types (probably with dyed hair), should be locked up in a room with a hundred blonde professional women on a month-long sabbatical from bad bosses. Think he'd make it out alive? I think he (or she) definitely be a changed creature after that month. He'd gain a new understanding of blondes, that's for sure.
If you really want to know the truth of it, the dumbest woman to ever walk the face of earth had dark hair (likely, though we may never know for sure.) She was, without a doubt, the dumbest woman to ever live. Her name? Eve. Very unlikely blonde, seeing as how her issue to this very day is mostly brunette or have black or dark hair. So get the blonde thing out of your head for just a moment. You see, she and Adam were originally created equal (many women today have a big problem with that "man having dominion over women" thing), otherwise, as I see it, God would have taken a bone out of Adams foot to create Eve. He didn't. (Now, wait, all you Bible believers- you have to read the rest of this before you'll understand just when Eve lost her "equal" status.) The bone came from his side, his rib. To me, this signifies equality. Well, then what does this dark-haired woman do but sashay up to a serpent and strike up a conversation with him (precursor to flirting, I suppose?). Didn't she think it unusual that a serpent could talk? Guess not.
That was Dumb act #1.
Now for dumb act #2:
After a little chit chat, (Gen. 3:1..."Really?" he asked the woman. "Did God really say you must not eat any of the fruit in the garden?" Gen. 3:2"Of course we may eat it," the woman told him. 3:3 "It's only the fruit from the tree at the center of the garden that we are not allowed to eat. God says we must not eat it or even touch it, or we will die.") she believes this creature (remember a serpent that can talk) when he calls God a liar, basically (3:4 "You won't die!" the serpent hissed. 3:5 "God knows that your eyes will be opened when you eat it. You will become just like God, knowing everything, both good and evil." 3:6 The woman was convinced.) Now, it doesn't look like it took much convincing, does it? How dumb is that, after the head honcho of the place, the owner, the boss (the best boss ever, one who actually loves his workers) says don't eat fruit from that tree, and a snake or serpent (that's not supposed to be able to talk) can 'talk you into it'?
Dumb act #3:
The dark-haired woman proceeds to eat the fruit (Adam, by the way, was right there with her- why didn't he pipe up and say "uh, hon, I don't think this is a good idea...I don't trust that serpent (that can talk, remember?). He was most likely dark-haired as well, remember.
Dumb act #4:
She turns and offers it to her husband. All the while the serpent is watching. I never saw a serpent grin, but I'll bet he did.
Dumb act #5:
They hid from God. Whose idea was that, I wonder?
Dumb act #6:
They look for someone to blame it on (3:12 "Yes," Adam admitted, "but it was the woman you gave me who brought me the fruit, and I ate it." 3:13 Then the LORD God asked the woman, "How could you do such a thing?" "The serpent tricked me," she replied. "That's why I ate it.") Now I don't know about you, but that conversation was a blatant manipulation, i.e. a lie, by the serpent, but not a trick. Eve believed a lie, just believed what the serpent said. (Remember this the next time a snake or lizard comes up to you and strikes up a conversation). Genesis Chapter 3:16 is where Eve, (a dark-haired woman? Again, we'll never know for sure), sold out her equality, not only for herself, but for all women from then on (3:16 Then he said to the woman, "You will bear children with intense pain and suffering. And though your desire will be for your husband, he will be your master.")
They were both dumb, at that time. God didn't make them stupid, but they sure had an Adam and Eve moment. I don't think you have to have any particular hair color to be dumb. You could even be bald. So dumb-blonde-joke-tellers, get over it already. If you don't like who you are, at least quit putting others down to make yourself feel better.
Interesting, that when I used to work for a company which employed mostly people of another nationality (including the boss), they could make "dumb blonde" jokes all day, which is a reference to my racial heritage, but if I said just one slanderous joke referring to their race (which I wouldn't have, even if it was legal), then that would be considered by the law to be a form of assault, among other things.)
Maybe blonde jokes should be outlawed. You think?
© 2005 Dianne James
Stop Needling Me!
Sometimes it's possible to accomplish something important by doing nothing at all. Well, actually, I did do something. I resisted. I think that counts. Here's my story.
Many of my friends have been getting pierced and tattooed for years. It's huge. Every neighborhood has at least one bodypiercing/bodyart place. Seems like they outnumber taverns these days. Naturally, they want me in on it.
"C'mon Mike," they say. "It's fun! It's addictive! What? Are you afraid of needles? The pain feels good! And when it's over, you have something to show for it!"
I find myself looking less and less like my friends because I'm not a human signboard for little animals, death, and calligraphic text. To compound the situation, I don't pick up the light in every room, reflecting off little pieces of metal everywhere. (And I do mean everywhere!) But I have a secret to share. I'll get to that shortly.
While they've been spending their paychecks on this hoopla, I've been quietly satisfied with myself, exactly as I am. I'm not suggesting my friends do it out of insecurity. Some do, obviously, but many got started because their parents told them not to. I'm no momma's boy, but I'd like to know what kind of a reason is that?
People are not packrats. OK, that's not true. I am a packrat. I keep way too much stuff. But that's not really what I mean. I'm talking about the fact that packrats are known to trade an item in their pack for ever-shinier objects. I do it too, but the one that kicks me is how my friends trade fifty dollar bills for yet another shiny piece of metal, or yet another patch of scribbled skin.
Now, before anyone thinks I'm complaining, let me point out that I believe in freedom to choose, and if that makes them happy, I'm not going to stop them. What? Like they'd listen to me? I'm the prude with no tattoo, remember? How would I know what it's like?
From my point of view, I don't need to find out. I don't think it's necessary to be a slave to the idea of trying everything once. Some things I don't feel the need to try.
Lately, some of my friends have found that their obsession is working against them. I'm still single with no kids, but many of my friends are either married or are single parents. And that's where the difficulty comes in.
Some of my friends have kids that are between six and nine years old. About that age, kids start noticing their parents a little more as people. They look at them differently than they did when they were infants. Mostly, because kids grow up incredibly fast today. Much faster than when we were kids, so they notice things quicker too. Lately what they've been noticing is mom and dad's tattoos and piercings.
A woman at work told me just last week that she has no idea how to convince her nine-year-old daughter why she won't take her to the parlor and get her tongue pierced, "just like mommy."
So here's my secret. I have resisted tattoos and piercing because I believe in being a natural person. I think the metal and the ink only serve to detract from the outer beauty of my friends and it does nothing to enhance their inner person. So I see no reason to use my body for someone's canvas.
Friends can be so myopic. They don't want to see their kids all boogered up because they see their kids as beautiful exactly as they are, but they hold themselves to a double standard. They continue to encourage me to get some bodyart and I continue to resist.
Why am I such a holdout? Do I really fear the needle? No, of course not. I'm the one who used to play with clothing pins and sewing needles, pushing them through the tops of my knuckles like a juvenile Freddy Krueger. I also used to do the infamous sewing-needle-shoved-through-the-flexed-arm trick. The difference is, it was just play to me, and I wasn't trying to make a fashion statement.
I simply have a philosophy that says a person needs to stick to their values and not give in to peer pressure. Piercing and tattoos have led my friends to nothing but empty pocketbooks and hard questions from their kids.
Maybe I'll go to work one day with needles through all my fingers like I did in school. That'll show 'em!
Travel Jokes
Traveling can be a humbling experience, particularly when you travel to a foreign country. Such experiences, of course, give rise to travel jokes.
Travel Jokes
1. Three brothers are sitting at the bar in a Moscow establishment. An older man is sitting at a table behind them and has obviously had too much vodka. He stands, walks up to the first brother and says,
“Your mother is a vicious, greedy woman!”
The brother tells him to shut up and go sit down.
After about 5 minutes, the old man stands and walks up to the second brother,
“I sleep with your mother whenever I want!”
Disgusted, the brother tells the old man to bugger off.
A few minutes later, the old man stands and starts walking towards the third brother. All three brothers turn around and yell,
“Dad, go home!”
2. You’re at a bad hotel when the bed mint moves.
3. “Visi, Vermini, Vomnui” – I visited, I freaked, I threw up.
4. The President’s Vacation
George and Laura Bush take a vacation to Crawford and decide to go the grocery store. In the checkout line, Laura recognizes the man working at the register as an old high school boyfriend. After chatting, they leave the store and George says,
“Wow, imagine if you had married him. You’d be married to a grocery store clerk now instead of the President of the United States.”
Laura rolls her eyes and says, “No. I’d be married to the President of the United States.”
5. “Veni, Veneri, Vamoosi” – I came, I caught a disease, I ran away.”
Typically, just the act of traveling produces more than a few funny moments. Get out there and go.
A Life Of Lorenzo Da Ponte:Talent Flies; Practical Reason Walks
Among the world’s favorite operas, we find three of them with a libretto penned by Lorenzo Da Ponte and music by none other than the astonishingly delightful Viennese ear-confectioner Mozart. The list is a delight in itself: The Marriage of Figaro, Don Giovann, and Così Fan Tutte.
We learn in the new book, The Librettist of Venice, by Rodney Bolt, that Da Ponte grew so close with the unequalled Mozart – both of whom, we learn, were not only talented but vain, insecure and ambitious – that while writing Don Giovanni, they worked in adjoining lodges and shouted to each other through their windows.
Da Ponte even dared to contend with Mozart, who believed the text should be subservient to the music, while Da Ponte was certain that the words should be primary, in fact, that without his poetry even Mighty Mo’s music would be nothing.
Yet how Da Ponte tumbled from the heights. Hard as it may be to imagine, he wound up in New York, running, at one time, a grocery store on the Bowery.
Brilliant as an artist, he was apparently, in his personal life, a managerial moron. Or, said another way, while talent flies, practical reason just plods along, like a relative moron.
Da Ponte, born Jewish, was, as a result of his father’s having decided the family should become Catholic for the easement of a life of trade, ordained a priest. But his real vocation was married women. His exploits, we learn, rivaled Casanova, who became his pal and, if we believe such a thing is possible in the category at hand, his mentor.
Da Ponte himself admitted a shortcoming in comparison with his rival for insincere relationships: he didn’t have Casanova’s purported talent for fleecing the women he falsely wooed. In fact, Da Ponte claims he actually loved the ones he made out with.
He also considered himself adroit politically, but his moves were disastrous. He upset the successors of Joseph II so much he was exiled from Vienna.
Now,still technically a priest he was married to a younger but more wisely practical woman named Nancy Grahl, but even she was unable to keep the man out of bankruptcy in London and again in America, where they moved in 1805, because her family had settled here.
He attempted to establish Italian opera companies when English-speaking audiences had little interest in them. To add onions to opera, the grocery business failed.
He finally became a teacher, bookseller and wannabe impresario.
On the positive side, New York turned out to be the most agreeable spot for him. It was relatively liberal, and Da Ponte found himself a favorite of the cultural elite.
He became the first professor of Italian at Columbia University. While the position was pretty much ceremonial, Da Ponte has the double distinction of having been the first Jew and first priest on the school’s faculty.
He lived on into his 80’s, revered but regarded as eccentric.
He was charming man who made a profession of being European when such a state was still considered novel.
Yet when one compares his everyday doings with his winged collaboration with Mozart, one can only shake his head with the recognition of how quicksilver brilliant the remarkable syntheses of talent are, way up in mental processes we can only hope will drop answers into our expectant consciousness, compared to the "first we do this and then we do that" plodding of the practical but still invaluable mind.
Timothy Ward's Great Coloring Book Rebirth
I bought a coloring book yesterday from Wal-Mart. I hadn't colored in years and I got the strange urge to out of the blue. I also bought a 24-pack of Crayola crayons. The box says they are non-toxic which is a relief. I just wonder who sells the toxic crayons and how they compare in price to the crayons I bought. Some people may consider having a radioactive glow about them the same color as the crayon they justed used to be a great feature for which they would gladly pay extra.
The coloring book I bought is called Justice League to the Rescue and it contains colorable pictures of all the Justice League heroes like Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, and The Flash. My favorite is Batman. I've always admired the darkness that hangs about him. Other superheroes seem to happy and cheerful (even when supervillains are totally destroying their towns) but not Batman- you can hear the depression in his voice. I would vote Batman the 'CrimeFighter You Would Most Likely Run Into At Your Shrink's Office. I'm willing to bet that Batman has a few anti-depressants tucked away in one of thse pouches on his BatBelt.
Since Batman is my favorite member of the Justice League I started my coloring book rebirth with one of his pictures. I colored his suit blue, his gloves and boots red, and the underside of his cape indigo. I would have called it purple but the side of the crayon said 'Indigo, Indigo, Indigo', apparently because indigo is spelled the same way in English, Spanish and, I believe, French. I'va always wondered why Crayola listed the crayon colors on the side of their crayons in three different languages. As I child it was very confusing to me because I didn't know which listing was English and so up until about 10 years old I pronounced most of my colors in the Spanish tongue. I still blame this for most of my academic failures in life, that and the fact that all through middle and high school I refused to take more than one book home at a time. Even if I had homework in 4 classes I would only take one book home. Taking more than one book home made you look like a complete losernerd, or in my case, more of a complete losernerd.
I colored Batman's eyes and face yellow-green (verde amarillo, vert-jaune) because I thought it would give him that money green aura that I'm sure a gazillionaire like Bruce Wayne has about him. Turns out I probably should have went with green-yellow (amarillo verde, jaune-vert) because instead of 'money green' the aura I got was 'ready-to-puke' which is probably the way he really looks most of the time when you factor in all the tall buildings Batman is constantly leaping from.
I was so satified with my picture when I finished coloring in that I signed and dated it. Who knows, years from now when I become a household name that picture may be worth a fortune. You may see it on ebay going for thousands of dollars. Don't despair if you can't afford to buy it-I've got a whole coloring book here and a lot more crayons, I'm sure I can color something in your price range. Tell you what, just for you, I'll even get rid of the Crayola crayons and color a picture with a box of those regular ol' toxic crayons. Then you'll not only get a Timothy Ward original colored picture but you also get that great radioactive glow...
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Amazing Trivia Part 1
I admit it .. I LIKE trivia, tho it serves no purpose for me since I can never remember any to bring up in conversation. But still, it is fun, so I've created this list of amazing trivia that I found to be absolutely riveting.
1. Snails can sleep up to 3 years.
Not so amazing actually since I managed to sleep thru 6 years of jr. high and high school. And when you think about it, what do snails have to do all their lives? Sure, they leave great slime trails and make excellent targets for salt shakers and little boys, but other than that there’s not much more to do but sleep after an exhausting run across a sidewalk.
2. American Airlines saved $40,000 in 1987 by eliminating one olive from each salad served in first-class.
Until I read this, I was convinced that there was an olive missing from my salad, yet no one would believe me. Now I am vindicated! I am now searching for proof that the airlines have taken one peanut from each bag .. I'll keep you posted.
3. An ostrich's eye is bigger than its brain.
After reading this, I realized that I know of many people with the same problem! But that’s an article about politicians I'm working on. For me, it's usually that my eyes are bigger than my stomach...
4. Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour.
Well, I'd like to see anyone keep this up long enough to actually lose 150 calories. Now that I think about it, I DON'T want to see...
5. Donald Duck comics were banned in Finland because he doesn't wear pants.
This is completely understandable.. I mean, who wants to look at a duck with no pants on? Besides, I understand that it is the law for all birds to wear pants in the city limits of Finland.
6. If you pass gas consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb.
I tried to prove or disprove this, but two things stopped me ... I couldn't stand to look at a bowl of chili after the third day, and my girlfriend threatened to leave me ... although it was kinda hard to tell what she was really saying with that gasmask on.
7. In ancient Egypt, priests plucked EVERY hair from their bodies, including their eyebrows and eyelashes.
Now, this piece of trivia leaves ALOT to the imagination, which is probably a good thing. BUT, I would like to point out, you'd have to be pretty limber to get some on those hairs .. nuff said.
8. The ant always falls over on its right side when intoxicated.
I know this trivia fact isn't true 'cause I've gone drinking with my ants several times and I've watched them fall over in several different directions... usually they tend to fall on my uncles tho.
9. The average human eats eight spiders in their lifetime at night.
I don't know about this fact ... I've seen several spiders at night and never once felt compelled to eat one. Though I hear that spider is tasty if barbequed correctly.
10. And now for our final fun trivia fact:
Some lions mate over 50 times a day... No wonder the females do all the work.
Warning: This Article is a Waste of Time
Today's topic, ladies and gentleman, is: Time. We're going to talk about time today because I never seem to have enough of it. And I figure that if I dedicate a whole article to the subject of time and stress some of it's finer points, then perhaps Father Time will show his appreciation by granting me a few extra hours each day. This will allow me to be able to complete a couple more important tasks each day such as hitting the 'Snooze' button on my alarm clock at least 15 more times each morning. And speaking of snoozing, there will be none of that during today's lesson which will begin right now:
Time is defined by the The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language as: 'A nonspatial continuum in which events occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future.' This definition leads us to the obvious question: If a definition contains 20 word, 5 of which contain 10 or more letters, and it still doesn't make much sense, isn't it time to get another dictionary?
Of course, dictionaries aren't the only people who have trouble with time. The ancient Mayans, for example, struggled to understand time for centuries and never got it quite right. One look at their calender clues you in to this fact. The Mayan calender had 18 months, one of which was called ChikChan (short for May), and each month had 20 days. There was even one month, Wayeb, that had only 5 days. As you can imagine, this horribly inaccurate calender made scheduling important events like the Super Bowl next to impossible. It also left them wide open to insults from other ancient civilizations, like the Sumerians for example, who had fairly accurate calenders.
The Sumerian calender had 365 days per year and even incorporated a leap year. Sadly, there was no Presidents Day, Martin Luther King Day, or Arbor Day incorporated into the Sumerian calender which is why the Sumerian civilization was eventually wiped out. Such flagrant calender discrimination, even in the Dark Ages, could not be tolerated.
Since we have covered all pertinent information available about calenders, I think it's high time we expand our understanding of time by discussing another mechanism by which we mortals judge the passing of it. But first, does anyone know where the phrase 'high time' comes from? Is there such a thing as 'low time'. Feel free to ponder these questions quietly as we move on to discussing: The Clock.
A clock, for those of you who don't know, is defined by The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language as...Wait a second! Let's not even go there. We're already pretty confused as it is. Let's just all agree that a clock is a device that has lots of numbers and two arms and makes it's living by juggling minutes and seconds.
I feel the extreme need to insert a time cliche here. This cliche makes absolutely no sense whatsoever and probably has pagan, barbaric origins, but I think it summarizes what we've learned thus far in our discussion. So here goes our first time cliche 'A stitch in time saves nine'. And now back to the show.
There have been numerous different kinds of clocks throughout history. Many of them made absolutely no sense whatsoever. A good example of this is the ancient Egyptian water clock, which was basically just a bowl with a hole in the bottom of it. There were markings on the inside of the bowl that measured the passage of 'hours' as the water level reached them. One of the obvious problems with this clock was the fact that whenever working-class Egyptians wanted to get off work early they would keep taking little sips of water from the bowl/clock throughout the day. This was one of the reasons it took so long to finish the Pyramids.That and the lack of power tools.
Time doesn't permit us to talk about the other types of ancient clocks like obelisks, sundials, and hemicycles. And there definitely isn't time to go into merkhets.
Speaking of merkhets, a close cousin of the clock is the watch. The watch is the time-telling device that most of us use today. We do not however, use it to tell time. We use it to do numerous other tasks that watch manufacturers have incorporated into watches like instant messaging, reading email, and fast forwarding the DVD player. There's even a new watch on the market that comes equip with a radiation detector. And you laughed at the Eyptians for drinking from their time-telling devices.
Obviously, time is not something that can be explained in just one lesson. There's a ton of more interesting stuff we could go into about time but, frankly, I don't feel like taking the time to look it up right now. I believe I've achieved my goal of using as many time cliches as I possibly could in one article and now, I think it's time to call an extended timeout on this whole time subject. I'm sure when I do write the follow-up to this article that it will be just in the nick of time. Probably sometime around Wayeb 1st.
Birds of a Feather
Birds of a Feather
1. Which is not a group term for birds?
A. Flock
B. Flight
C. Volery
D. Swarm
D. Swarm
TBD: Various insects can collectively be called a swarm but not birds!
2. Which of these is a fear of birds?
A. Alektorophobia
B. Astraphobia
C. Ornithophobia
D. Ouranophobia
C. Ornithophobia
TBD: Although alektorophobia was close, that is a fear of chickens! Astraphobia is the fear of lightning and Ouranophobia is the fear of heaven!
3. Which bird is NOT a bird of prey?
A. Falcon
B. Francolin
C. Hobby
D. Kestrel
B. Francolin
TBD: Any of various Eurasian or African birds of the genus Francolinus, related to and resembling the quails and partridges, which are actually the intended victims of birds of prey!
4. What is the collective name for crows?
A. A murder
B. A clutch
C. A clutter
D. A Sleuth
A. A murder
TBD: You can have a clutch of chicks, a clutter of cats, and a sleuth of bears, if anyone was wondering.
5. What is the largest living species of bird?
A. Condor
B. Eagle
C. Ostrich
D. Emu
C. Ostrich
TBD: Did you know they are omnivorous, eating grass, foliage, and any small animals they can chase down?
6. The Trochildae family of birds shares what trait?
A. They are the smallest birds
B. They are flightless birds
C. They are birds of prey
D. They are featherless birds
A. They are the smallest birds
TBD: This family includes the hummingbird.
7. Which is NOT a proper name for a group of ducks?
A. Brace
B. Flock
C. Skein
D. Team
C. Skein
TBD: Actually that was pretty tricky as you can have a skein of geese…
8. How many eyelids do birds have?
A. None
B. One
C. Two
D. Three
D. Three
TBD: They have an upper lid resembling that of humans, a lower lid that closes when a bird sleeps, and a third lid, called a nictitating membrane, that sweeps across the eye sideways, starting from the side near the beak. This lid is a thin, translucent fold of skin that moistens and cleans the eye and protects it from wind and bright light.
9. Seabirds have the longest migration patterns. How long can these trips get?
A. 20,000 miles
B. 10,000 miles
C. 5,000 miles
D. 1,000 miles
A. 20,000 miles
TBD: That's further than many humans travel in their lifetime!
10. Can you guess how many known species of birds there are?
A. 100
B. 1,000
C. 10,000
D. 100,000
C. 10,000
TBD: This includes all modern or recently extinct species.
Rural Relocation – Considerations and Adjustments
So you’re thinking about going country? It’s time to abandon the frenzy of city life, drop the ‘G’ from the end of your verbs and trade your Gucci for goats. You long to be in a place where business is done on a handshake, where your backyard is bountiful and where folks welcome you with warm apple pie and a smile. You want the simple life.
Over 1.6 million people moved to rural communities during the first five years of this decade. Several stayed. This migration continues – reinforced by dozens of national and regional periodicals presenting sanitized ‘country chic’ to millions of armchair rednecks. Having read a myriad of books and magazines about goin’ county, you are convinced it is for you. Why not?
Editorials immerse you with prose of serenity found. You are infatuated by the ideal of carvin’ your own nitch in the wilderness, collectin’ the morning eggs and whittlin’ on the porch swing each evening. Throughout the country, gentlemen greet women with the tip of a hat and a polite, “Howdy Mam.” You long to raise your children in a community where graciousness abounds while folks commune with nature in perfect harmony. With each flip of the page of County Cool Magazine you feel your stress level dip.
Before you lapse completely into a coma, bear a few things in mind. Full-page glossies of family reunions held beneath towering, shabby-chic barns make for better magazine copy than centerfolds of locals trying to avoid making eye contact with your U-Haul. Stylized black and whites of cowboys branding in the parched mid-day sun sell better than snapshots of the Mayor’s dead horses being left to rot all summer long, directly in the center of town. Furthermore, triumphant tales of battling the elements flow better than ancient country septic lines. No one knows why the media doesn’t ‘glam-up’ peeing in your barn. It must just be a fickle public.
Fickle indeed. I for one moved my son from our life long home in San Diego to my birth state of South Dakota three times before it stuck. Each time I recoiled in under a year. Best friends, scores of humanities, the Pacific surf and Thai food are a lot to give up at one time. Harder still was the shattering of my rose colored glasses.
The secret to a successful relocation is knowing what to honestly expect so you can laugh cathartically when the inevitable bizarre scenarios emerge. Sudden disillusionment is rarely a knee-slapper. Nonetheless, once adjusted, country life is closer to Nirvana than most get here on Earth. Thus, while everyone else pumps pure country sunshine straight up your knickers, I consider it my obligation to provide balance to the Universe.
Almost daily I question my reasons for living in the hinterland. For these moments of apprehension, I maintain lists in my mind. My lists remind me both what drove me out of California and why I cannot abandon country life. A hardy dose of big city burn out definitely came into play. For starters, I realized I was so sick of commuting I‘d rather endure seven months per year in an icebox with no sunlight than sit in another traffic jam. With that thought alone I was ready to pull up my roots. I also decided to move.
In fact, developing a loathing of the Urban Jungle was vital to my eventual ‘success’ in relocating. In retrospect, my twig was definitely about to snap. Of course, so many city folk run around with fully bent twigs, we never realize the contorted conditions of our existence. That many people living in close proximity, under the confines of excessive regulations, is the proverbial pressure cooker.
Urbanites and recent country converts wondering if your view on life may be intensely contorted are welcome refer to my lists. They provide perspective. For example: Signs of how ‘screwed-up’ you may be would include the following.
You’re having your morning coffee, a cow walks through the front yard. You don’t own a cow. You freak out, hit 911 and sue the Meat Packers of America.
You believe shoes matching your nail polish is in any way a daily priority.
You don’t recognize that it is morally bankrupt to apply for a permit from a homeowners association to put out a lawn ornament.
You carry more electronic gadgets on your person than Radio Shack inventories.
You drive to work past ‘that same old group of homeless people.’
You smile and say, “Hi,” to strangers only because you know it screws with their minds.
Your horse board expenses equal the Gross National Product of Guatemala
You’re convinced you are invisible and need two years of plastic surgery just so city gentlemen won’t let the C-Store door spring back in your face.
You pitch a fit when your favorite salad bar serves cheese made with non-vegetarian rennet, then drive the kids to Burgers Burgers Burgers.
Your children spend more time in the TV den than in treetops and you think that’s acceptable.
You get a building permit and three estimates to hang a painting.
Any chimes ringing? If so, remove yourself form Urbania immediately! Your twig is at maximum contortion! Give the country three years and you will stay. Transition is difficult, but once your up-tight attitude is vanquished, your twig unbends. These are the indicators you are settling in to the ‘Simple Life.’
You’re having your morning coffee. A cow walks through the front yard. You don’t own a cow. You sit down and drink your coffee.
Shoes’ matching each other is low on the list of daily priorities.
Your outhouse is not just a chic lawn ornament.
You save getting the chickens drunk for when you have houseguests.
You have no idea where your cell phone went, but the Border Collie is wearing your pager.
You drive to work past ‘that same old herd of buffalo’.
Your bird feeder expenses are equivalent to the Gross National Product of Canada.
Elk mounts ordain the walls of your favorite salad bar.
Your children spend more time in the their tree house than in school.
Yes, these are definitely telltale signs, you have lost that city pace. Although you can never voluntarily raise your stress level back to match city slickers, you have not lost yourself completely. Search the little places. Vestiges of your past will appear. These are the traits of an American Hybrid.
While having your morning cappuccino, a cow walks through the front yard. You don’t own a cow. You toss it a biscotti.
You can’t decide whether to paint the walls of the outhouse in a contemporary or impressionistic motif.
You use the word motif in the same sentence with outhouse.
You actually make homemade preserves – wild chokecherries with a boisterous zinfandel you picked up in Napa last season.
Mascara before milking.
You winter in the gulf of Siam. You summer in bib overalls.
You smile and say, “Hi,” to strangers only because you know it screws with their minds.
You could never shoot a deer, but you can dress that sucker out in under two hours.
You fence in a sarong and thongs. (This one gets the neighbors talking.)
You frequently run to town for Hawaiian Tofu and Goat Chow.
You have a different pair of hiking boots for every occasion.
Egyptian cotton sheets and a commissioned replica of Picasso’s Woman with Three Breasts enclose the baby chickens being reared in your bedroom closet.
It’s true, every day more and more of us are getting too screwed up to ever return to the city. Still, for all our differences country folk and city slickers posses one commonality. Neither group thinks twice about the US Government’s Food Pyramid. I guess we have to start somewhere.
A Lawyers Favorite Lawyer Jokes
Lawyer Jokes
Q: How does a pregnant woman know she is carrying a future lawyer?
A: She has an extreme craving for baloney.
Q: What is the legal definition of “Appeal”?
A: Something a person slips on in a grocery store.
Q: Why did God make snakes just before lawyers?
A: To practice.
Q: What do you call a lawyer with an IQ of 12?
A: Your Honor.
Q: What’s the difference between a lawyer and a herd of buffalo?
A: The lawyer charges more.
Q: What do you call a smiling, sober, courteous person at a bar association convention?
A: The caterer.
Q: Why are lawyers like nuclear weapons?
A: If one side has one, the other side has to get one.
Q: What do you get when you cross the Godfather with a lawyer?
A: An offer you can't understand.
Q: What do you call a lawyer gone bad?
A: Senator
Q: Did you hear they just released a new Barbie doll called "Divorced Barbie"?
A: It comes with half of Ken's things and alimony.
Q: What's the difference between an attorney and a pit bull?
A: Jewelry.
Q: What's the definition of mixed emotions?
A: Watching your attorney drive over a cliff in your new Ferrari.
Q: What’s the difference between lawyers and accountants?
A: At least accountants know they’re boring.
Stories:
1. A man who had been caught embezzling millions went to a lawyer. His lawyer told him, "Don’t worry. You’ll never go to jail with all that money? In fact, when the man was sent to prison, he didn’t have a dime.
2. As the lawyer awoke from surgery, he asked, "Why are all the blinds drawn?" The nurse answered, "There's a fire across the street, and we didn't want you to think you had died."
3. God decided to take the devil to court and settle their differences once and for all. Satan heard this, laughed and said, "And where do you think you're going to find a lawyer?"
4. A lawyer is sitting at the desk in his new office. He hears someone coming to the door. To impress his first potential client, he picks up the phone as the door opens and says, "I demand one million and not a penny less." As he hangs up, the man now standing in his office says, "I'm here to hook up your phone."
And finally:
You Might Be A Lawyer If.... You are charging someone to read these jokes.
Songwriter Confessions #1
Looking up this week from getting a reggae backing to sound like St Ann rather than St Felicity, I spotted the small dark mist in the usual corner behind the left monitor speaker. I have sometimes believed absolutely that this is my best muse, back from a pizza run to the outer starbelt. Or maybe just the golden ring around Uranus. Anyhoo...It seems to bring inspiration in a dark way: more Keith Richards than Cliff Richard, and I feel the urge to write something that involves leather, whips and a snare drum that sounds like Pavarotti hitting the water from the top board. I dig out my file called Heavy Riffs That AC/DC Lost Under The Driver's Seat. It would help if the word MURDER appeared in the first lyric line: that always gets the bowie knives out. As Sam Goldwyn said: Start with an exploding volcano and build up from there to a climax.
I can't emphasise how important the first two lines of the first verse are, in any song.This is where you the artist set the hook in their miniscule attention spans or not. If you simper your way into a song, as per a style I like to call Captain Cliche, you've probably lost them before the second guitar comes in. Please avoid a first verse that goes like this: ooh I love you, yes it's true, what am I supposed to do, baby I know without you, all my dreams are down the loo...blah blah...
Anybody still awake? The only thing that might just save that song would be a beat strong enough to flip Lazarus out of the grave and over the horizon. I never thought that the years I spent writing ad copy for various ad agencies would be worth so much to me now. The rule in advertising is: when you've written the headline, you've spent 80c of your dollar. It's got to hook them. It's gotta say something different about a subject you've heard a million times. Take the neverending subject of LOVE ( also known as LURV...the NASTY...and BUMPING UGLIES) If I taught songwriting, one of the first projects I would set would have to be: write a song about LOVE, but make it interesting.Make it different. Make the listener say: I never thought of it that way before. Now Paul McCartney, being famous, doesn't have to work as hard as the rest of us. So he calls it: Another Silly Love Song. With a chorus that goes: iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou. Phew, Macca...time to open the window!
Here's how I do it: my song is called: If You Were Icecream... and the first verse is: If you were icecream, I would eat you, with a very small spoon... if you were starlight, I'd go to meet you, halfway to the moon... I think that's a lot more interesting than Paulie's but hey, he's famous, and I've just started kicking at the door. For more examples of how I approach first verses and songs in general, scoot along to my new site or click on the link below.
Must get into town for some new acoustic guitar strings. Haven't changed them for a year, and No..there's no direct link between underwear rotation and guitar strings. And-a one...two...three...
Sit Back And Remember
Why is it, that any holiday, time off, or event, someone is sick? Do they plan it that way? I was sitting today, pondering, reminissing, and it came to my attention that every function I have ever attended had at least one of my family members sitting with the sniffles.
I was 7 years old. It was christmas time, and I was sick with my appendix. That was a good one. Is it coincidence? Or is there some greater evil out there that enjoys watching suffering in times of joy. We should find him, and tell him we are NOT impressed.
Timing is everything. There is a point, in every persons life, where everything seems to go wrong, and all you can do is sit there and watch it happen. But maybe it's a good thing. In fact, if nothing goes wrong, we won't know what's right. Perhaps what we need to do is change those tears of helplessness into tears of joy. That would be weird. "I love it when i get scarlet fever" Woops.
Here is a good one. This time, evil chose to be more mean than ever. I will tell you the holiday AFTER I tell you what happened. I had the chicken pox, my youngest sister had the chicken pox, my other sister had scarlet fever, and my parents were sharing the flu. Get this.... Thanksgiving. Thats right. Usually at thanksgiving time we go around the table, taking turns saying thanks for whatever you are thankful for. What a task. I was thankful for oatmeal baths!
It's funny how we are tested in such ironic ways. The outcome of our battles with nature shows what kind of person we can become, but what happens during the battle defines what kind of person we really are.
I'll Get Up In Just A Minute
Are you one of those people who wake up in the morning, fully refreshed and singing with happiness at the start of a bright new day?
Well, most of us aren't. And frankly, we'd rather those of you who are would knock off the racket. We're trying to get a little last minute sleep before staggering off to get our morning coffee.
Those final minutes in bed are golden.
You know the ones I mean, the last precious moments, still snug and warm under the covers, fully awake and knowing you have to get up. But not just yet. No, just a few minutes more.
This is why the snooze button is so popular on the alarm clock. People just do not want to get out of bed in the morning. Especially kids. Anyone who has tried to drag a 9 year old out of bed at 7:30 AM to prepare for an 8:30 AM school day knows exactly what I mean.
But even for adults, overcoming the morning inertia can be an exercise (and I use that word with its loosest possible meaning) of insidious procrastination.
Luckily for my family, we have an almost infallible system for overcoming this daily problem. We call our system "The Dogs."
The way this works is that Doug, our larger, main dog, will wake up promptly at 6:30, sit by my side of the bed and place his paw on my back. We call this, "Giving The Paw."
The process works something like this:
Doug:
Me: "Ok Doug, good boy."
Ten seconds go by.
Doug:
Me: "Ok, Doug. Ok."
Another ten seconds go by.
Doug: ...
Me: "Coming Doug, Coming."
Fifteen seconds.
Doug:
At this point there is an air of frantic insistence in Doug's pawing. The message is clear, either I get up to take him out or suffer the consequences.
Now, Doug is an 85 pound Labrador Retriever, and he is capable of producing some pretty hefty consequences.
Rather than face the prospect of scraping a 3 pound consequence off the living room carpet, I haul myself out of bed to take him out.
An astute reader may recall that I used the term "Dogs" to describe our automatic wake up system.
The astute reader may further assume that there is a second dog involved in this process in the unlikely event that Doug fails to produce the desired result.
The astute reader is quite correct. Zippy, our second dog, is nowhere near as subtle and restrained as Doug when it comes to announcing his morning needs.
While Doug may sit demurely by the side of the bed and indicate his desires with a considerate paw, Zippy will climb onto the bed, stick his wet nose in your face, ear or eye, whichever is most conveniently exposed, and sneeze.
This method has never failed to elicit the desired response. And has some obvious advantages over Doug's method, although for obvious reasons, I prefer Doug's system to Zippy's.
In either case, we are now up and ready to begin our day.
The following poem was written after commiserating with another family member who wanted to lie in bed for just a few more of those precious minutes this morning.
I'll Get Up In Just A Minute
Each morning when I slowly wake
I like to lie in bed,
Ignoring all the thoughts that skip
And clamor in my head.
The daily deeds that must be done,
The tasks which will not keep,
The many errands I must run
All drag me from my sleep.
I try to close my eyes once more,
And repossess my dreams,
But give up, rising to the chore
Of facing life's regimes.
The Perks of Global Warming
Marya Mannes once wrote, “The earth we abuse and the living things we kill will, in the end, take their revenge; for in exploiting their presence we are diminishing our future.” Obviously Ms. Mannes preferred the status quo - health, sanity, logic, blah, blah, blah. Why? Green House Roulette is so much more intriguing.
In the country, weather affects everything. For five years Western South Dakota has been gripped by drought. Water and hay are vanishing. Farms and ranches are blowing away. While the government bails out victims from hurricanes and says, ‘South Dawho?’ our cattle are pissing dust mites. Fortunately, things are looking up.
There is some good news! Those pesky glaciers are finally melting off! Last year an eight-nation report estimated an area of Arctic icepack the size of Texas and Kansas is gone. For those who are geographically impaired, that is an area bigger than a breadbox.
At first, news of devastating global climate change might seem a bit of a bummer. Then I read an LA Times article and had a change of heart. The article began with the usual gloom. Greenland’s ice cap is melting. Our coasts will flood from rising seawater. Inuit hunters are falling through thinning ice. Melting glaciers change ocean temperature and salinity contorting the jet stream, which results in altered weather patterns worldwide. Multitudes of species are dying off . . . It was disheartening.
Then I got to the article’s final paragraph. Bam! My faith was restored. Here the Times pointed out the perks of global warming. Seriously, the article actually ended saying: “The report is not all gloomy. A warmer Arctic could increase the number of some species, such as Arctic char, a fish. It could extend the growing season for wheat in Canada and open up now-treacherous sea routes, such as the Northwest Passage and the Northern Sea Route, which parallels Russia, for shipping and resource exploration.”
Three cheers for the LA Times! It’s true! All is not gloomy. With that glorious bit of sunshine pumped straight up my ski bibs, I was able to see things in a whole new light. I started thinking of other advantages to global warming. Soon you will agree that people from all walks of life will benefit.
For starters, Inuit Hunters will benefit! Once Inuit have nothing left to hunt there will be no need for them to risk falling through thin ice. Plus, by needing food they will be ripe for a floating (pontoons, not ice) Arctic Super Wal-Mart. “Go get ‘em, Sam.”
Boat owners will benefit! Not only will there be smooth sailing through the formerly bothersome ice of the Northwest Passage, but each summer, cruise ships will be able to run tourists straight up Bourbon Street in New Orleans.
Scuba Divers will benefit! There will be no more burning coral cuts. In fact there will be no more coral. Once all the reefs are gone, divers can pack away first aid kits and dive straight in. A little silt never cut anyone.
Canadian Wheat Farmers will benefit! You see, there is a 10% decrease in yield of corn from Midwest crops for every degree of global warming. No worries though, now wheat can take the place of corn. Think about all those scrumptious Wheat Dogs at the ball game. How about popped wheat with butter at the movies or steaming wheat on the cob? All scream ‘yummy’ to me.
While it is a bit ironic that ethanol is made from the corn crops global warming devastates, I am sure some aspiring chemist will rise to the challenge of developing ‘Wheatanol.’ Imagine Canuck Wheat Farmers having more influence than the Saudi Royal Family.
Dune-Buggy enthusiasts will benefit! The Dakotas will soon reopen for your 4-wheelin’ pleasure. Join the Mount Rushmore Nose Climb on July 4th! It will be a bugger of a challenge!
Eco-Tourism Operators will benefit! Companies could offer new “Emaciation Tour Packages.” Tourists get closer photos of polar bears and whales when they are too lethargic from starvation to meander away. In addition, long treks to Inuit villages can be avoided once they are forced to beg on the streets of Nome (or cashiering at Wal-Mart).
Finally, the next generation of Bush family politicians will benefit! Once again they can avoid addressing campaign issues, this time by distracting dehydrated voters with witty campaign phrases like; “No Kyoto Pact-No Ice Pack,” or “Dead Seals Never Flip-Flop,” even promising “No Char Left Behind.” Not to mention offering new, SPF 800 tax credits.
Well, by golly, I do feel better! Shall we spin the Rolette wheel some more?
8 Reasons Why You Should Email Me One Dollar
Paypal has made it possible to quickly and easily send money over the Internet. This allows us to pay for all kinds of purchases with a lot less hassle. It also will allow you, everyone who reads this article, to send me, Timothy Ward, $1.00.
Being the cynics that you are, I know you're probably asking: "Why should I send you $1.00? I barely even know you. If I hadn't somehow stumbled onto this article I wouldn't even have known that you exist. I still don't know how I came across this ridiculous article, I was trying to find my brother-in-law's blog."
Since I know that humanoids are by nature untrusting, and I know that you can spare the dollar, I will now generously provide 8 reasons why you should immediately paypal me a buck. I don't think I'll need more than 5 reasons but I like to give people their money's worth. Plus I have a word count to think about. So without further ado:
(1) Sending me $1.00 will keep you from spending it on something pointless like the mortgage payment. You've been faithfully paying on that mortgage for years-it's time you had a break. And it'll only cost you a single greenback.
(2) Donating to a worthy cause can give you peace of mind which, in turn, will help you to sleep better at night. Giving me a dollar may not be as worthy a cause as, say, giving to the Red Cross, but I promise I will sleep better tonight and many nights thereafter if you send me that dollar.
(3) If I were sitting in front of a gas station smelling of cheap wine and wearing the same clothes I had on when I lost my job 8 months ago, you wouldn't even consider giving me a dollar. You would probably tell me to: "Get a Job, ya bum", and then rapidly walk away, clutching your wallet tightly. I, however, am not sitting in front of a gas station, I'm sitting in front of my television. And I changed clothes 2 days ago.
(4) I need to buy some Bling Bling! You're just not in the game if you don't have diamonds in your ears and ice on your neck and wrists. Plus I know a guy who'll give me a great deal on some gold teeth. But I need more cheese.
(5) Many great artist in history have depended on donations to finance their masterpieces. Your sending me $1.00 will allow me to do the necessary research for a masterpiece of an article that I'm working on called: 'Going Out on Saturday Night and Getting Sloppy Drunk Using Other People's Money'. I'll be sure to acknowledge you at the end.
(6) Fellas, would you rather send me a dollar or have your wife spent it on yet another pair of black heels? Ladies, would you rather your husbands spend it on another one of those magazines that he keeps in that box in his workshop? I thought not.
(7) Time is money. You're already wasting money by taking time to read this article. Another George Washington won't kill you.
(8) The pens and paper I use to write these articles don't pay for themselves. My high speed internect connection that I use to upload these articles isn't free. I don't think $1.00 is too much to ask after the scores of articles I have written and shared with all of cyberspace. After all, if it wasn't for my articles you wouldn't appreciate the good articles written by others.
So there you have it folks. 8 reasons to send me $1.00 via Paypal. As I suspected most of you were sold after Reason #5. I appreciate you waiting patiently until I finished with the remaining Reasons before rushing over to Paypal.com. Now that I have finished listing my reasons feel free to login and send your $1.00 to wailinward@yahoo.com. And please hurry, the guy with the gold teeth isn't going to have those great deals forever...
Eternal Wit
Whoever said, "You can't take it with you" was obviously not referring to a sense of humor ...
Here is a list of actual epitaphs from departed souls who clearly had more to say than the time to say it, or from their next of kin, who wanted to be sure they literally had the last word:
On the grave of Ezekial Aikle in East Dalhousie Cemetery, Nova Scotia:
Here lies
Ezekial Aikle
Age 102
The Good Die Young.
In a London, England cemetery:
Ann Mann
Here lies Ann Mann,
Who lived an old maid
But died an old Mann.
Dec. 8, 1767
In a Ribbesford, England, cemetery:
Anna Wallace
The children of Israel wanted bread
And the Lord sent them manna,
Old clerk Wallace wanted a wife,
And the Devil sent him Anna.
Playing with names in a Ruidoso, New Mexico, cemetery:
Here lies
Johnny Yeast
Pardon me
For not rising.
Memory of an accident in a Uniontown, Pennsylvania cemetery:
Here lies the body of Jonathan Blake
Stepped on the gas
Instead of the brake.
In a Silver City, Nevada, cemetery:
Here lays Butch,
We planted him raw.
He was quick on the trigger,
But slow on the draw.
A widow wrote this epitaph in a Vermont cemetery:
Sacred to the memory of my husband John Barnes
who died January 3, 1803
His comely young widow, aged 23, has many qualifications of a good
wife, and yearns to be comforted.
A lawyer's epitaph in England:
Sir John Strange
Here lies an honest lawyer,
And that is Strange.
Someone determined to be anonymous in Stowe, Vermont:
I was somebody.
Who, is no business
Of yours.
Lester Moore was a Wells Fargo station agent for Naco, Arizona in the cowboy days of the 1880's. He's buried in the Boot Hill Cemetery in Tombstone, Arizona:
Here lies Lester Moore
Four slugs from a .44
No Les No More.
In a Georgia cemetery:
"I told you I was sick!"
John Penny's epitaph in the Wimborne, England, cemetery:
Reader if cash thou art
In want of any
Dig 4 feet deep
And thou wilt find a Penny.
On Margaret Daniels grave at Hollywood Cemetery Richmond, Virginia:
She always said
her feet were killing her
but nobody believed her.
In a cemetery in Hartscombe, England:
On the 22nd of June
- Jonathan Fiddle -
Went out of tune.
Anna Hopewell's grave in Enosburg Falls, Vermont has an epitaph that sounds like something from a Three Stooges movie:
Here lies the body of our Anna
Done to death by a banana
It wasn't the fruit that laid her low
But the skin of the thing that made her go.
Here's more fun with names, this time featuring Owen Moore in Battersea, London, England:
Gone away
Owin' more
Than he could pay.
Someone in Winslow, Maine didn't like Mr Wood:
In Memory of Beza Wood
Departed this life
Nov. 2, 1837
Aged 45 yrs.
Here lies one Wood
Enclosed in wood
One Wood
Within another.
The outer wood
Is very good:
We cannot praise
The other.
On a grave from the 1880's in Nantucket, Massachusetts:
Under the sod and under the trees
Lies the body of Jonathan Pease.
He is not here, there's only the pod:
Pease shelled out and went to God.
The grave of Ellen Shannon in Girard, Pennsylvania is almost a consumer tip:
Who was fatally burned
March 21, 1870
by the explosion of a lamp
filled with "R.E. Danforth's
Non-Explosive Burning Fluid"
Here's Harry Edsel Smith of Albany, New York:
Born 1903--Died 1942
Looked up the elevator shaft to see if the car was on the way down.
It was.
In a Thurmont, Maryland, cemetery:
Here lies an Atheist
All dressed up
And no place to go.
But does he make house calls? Dr Fred Roberts, Brookland, Arkansas:
Office now upstairs
Let's hope.