No News Is Good News

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It’s getting difficult to watch the news these days. Our lightning-fast media bring reports from all over the globe and flash them in front of our faces, often while they are happening in real time. Sure, it’s important to be informed, lest we become complacent and start resting on our laurels. After all, if we didn’t hear about what was going on, how could we act to effect change? Unfortunately, however, too often the news media have become voracious marketeers. Reports about sad and disturbing events have become their livelihood; sometimes with complete disregard for the victims of horrific events.

I saw a video a while ago of a CNN reporter who was put in her place by a poor woman with kids who had just lost everything because of a hurricane. The reporter asked the woman what the experience was like, and of course the poor lady reacted with disgust from the mere act of being interviewed in such a manner.

Manners… don’t people have manners anymore? Not sure about anyone else, but I don’t think it’s very good manners to stuff a microphone into the face of someone who was freshly uprooted because of a terrible storm.  My heart aches for those who are suffering, and my head is on fire worrying about my loved ones who are bracing for the wrath of Mother Nature, not to mention all the war crap going on around the globe.

Um… I asked you not to mention that!!

Well my friends, there really IS good news out there, and so I thought I’d take this opportunity to spread some of it around. Some of the links to follow were sent to me by friends, others I simply stumbled upon and stashed into my brain. So without further ado, here are some places you can go if you hunger for some uplifting stuff.

One of my new favorites: UTR Michigan (Under The Radar Michigan). Very cool stuff here. Saw a broadcast of their program on our local public TV station recently, but you can also watch programs on their site for free. I’m very grateful to have been transplanted to Michigan… a great place to live in my professional opinion. This guy points out just how cool it really is at http://www.utrmichigan.com/

Then there’s Yes! Magazine. A dear friend gave me a subscription for a Christmas gift awhile ago and I’ve been smitten ever since. Articles about all types of positive actions around the globe are chronicled here. They can be found at http://www.yesmagazine.org/

Then of course my organic gardener soul loves these: The Mother Earth News: http://www.motherearthnews.com/ Oh, and another favorite, the Seed Savers Exchange: http://www.seedsavers.org/

Oh! We mustn’t forget “the pooper book” website!! Say wha?? Well, that’s what our son calls the Old Farmers Almanac. His nickname for the Almanac is one of love, I’m sure, and was derived from the area of the house the magazine is most often found. Every year I buy at least three them: one for our son, one for our daughter and her family, and one for us. Over the years, I’ve acquired this habit of also buying copies for friends. Not sure the website qualifies as news, and actually the hard copy is more fun than the website. Nonetheless, you can find it at http://www.almanac.com/

Well friends, I could go on and on but suffice it to say that there really IS good news out there if you look for it. And the older I get, the more good news I seem to need. There is more than enough heartache in this world; and when I find myself focusing too closely on just the nasty stuff, I get rather sad. I’m sure I’ll continue to keep my ear to the ground and stay informed, but there are times when no news really is good news.

And good news is just plain good!

One of my least favorite topics is politics; but this 1937 Betty Boop cartoon shows that having a mayor like Grampy is just plain cool.

The Hunt For Channel 3

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Something smells terrible in the physics of our electronic TV wavelength reception universe. In other words kiddies. sadness abounds because channel 3, our local CBS broadcaster, is not coming in very well. Why do we care? Because we are prehistoric citizens of the techniverse, and we still get much of our TV reception from a strange fixture known as an antenna.

Last time we had this fun, the cause was a soggy coax connector that screws onto the antenna amplifier. This was 8 years ago… and I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to get back on the roof to replace the connector. Used to be you could get such strange items at the local Radio Shack, but those are long gone. I remember going to the local Meijer and asked the guy in the Media Center very technical question. “What year is it??” I said. “Ummm I think it’s 1982,” the youngster replied with a snicker. “Good,” I replied. “Then maybe you can help me find a connector for my TV antenna cable.” The nice young man was maybe in his 20s, and did his best to be helpful. “I need a connector for RG-59 cable,” I said. Of course, he had absolutely no idea what I needed, but I’ll give him an A+ for winging it. He pointed at an assortment of doo-dads and said, “this is all the RGA stuff we have.” I didn’t bother to educate him on the terminology; but no luck for the likes of me. A little later I told my Beautiful Girlfriend, “Maybe I still have one stashed in my junk someplace.” “Where is all your junk??” my Lovely Sweetheart wondered. “EVERYWHERE,” I told her, with little need to exaggerate.

And by golly I found a couple!! They were in the bottom of the bag behind the curtains of the little closet in my office, along with some pliers, an old watch, some matches, a little 3 foot tape measure, some pens, and lots of other treasures I apparently was unwilling to either discard or sort in some logical manner. Although I’d very much prefer not to do it, I imagine I’ll be clambering up on the roof sometime soon to see if that’s actually what’s wrong.

All this may seem a rather silly to some. We live in a pretty high tech world these days, and there’s lots of content for the TV on cable, satellite, and of course the interwebs; if you’re willing to pay for it. We are not willing to pay for something that has been free since the day we were born. Well OK we do pay for the interwebs; but broadcast television is still very much alive, and there’s lots of free stuff you can watch once you get your antenna system set up. When it was new, my antenna system cost a total of about $300 with all the bells and whistles. If installed properly, such a system will work seamlessly for many years. Of course we’re talking a large fish bone looking monster that I bought over 20 years ago, along with a mast mounted amplifier. You can get much smaller antennas these days for almost half as much money. Even though it’s old, it has served us well, and I like to keep my stuff going, thank you very much.

If you know me, then you know I’m a dinosaur. Caveman. Troglodyte. Fred Flintstone. I’m, well, not really a high-tech kind of guy. Although I retired from a fairly high-tech job, all the stuff at our house is pretty much old-tech. We still have a turntable, cassette recorder, and a kick-ass stereo system on which to play them on. And we never did get cable TV…

Instead of cable, we get content off the interwebs with our ROKU. We keep our subscriptions to a minimum… Netflix and Paramount Plus, the latter of which allows us to livestream channel 3!! But hey, when all is well our antenna brings in at least 30 channels, sometimes more depending on what’s going on in the atmosphere. We figure if we paid for TV we’d watch too much of it. And even if we didn’t; it’s money we’d rather spend on other silly stuff like groceries and car repairs, and toys for our grandkids. I don’t mind being a caveman; and my Beautiful Girlfriend hasn’t left me for a high tech guy yet so I’m guessing she’s OK with it too.  In the meantime, the hunt for channel 3 continues; and I WILL WIN!!!

If you don’t believe me, just ask me some time.

When we’re not watching TV we sometimes listen to the radio; just like these two… um… ladies??

Randomly Rambling

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Have you ever had one of those days/weeks/months where you are trying your best to try, but try as you might, you just can’t seem to have enough energy to try all the things you’d like to try?

Me neither!!

So in honor of my days/weeks/month of having too many radioactive lima beans lodged in my nether regions, I hereby proclaim that this edition of “Happy Friday!!!” will consist of randomly generated thoughts that came from my headbone, and not any silly Fartificial Intelligence (FI). I will number these thoughts so you can refer back to them at any time, unless of course you have no time, in which case I suggest you buy a compass, speedometer, or perhaps even a wristwatch to get some time under your belt. Or on your wrist.

Here you go then. These random thoughts will be topical in nature, alpha-erratically enumerated, and placed in no particular order.

1. Foraging – I envision a small pepper clown foraging in the wilderness.  There it will find invisible ink with which to write secret recipes. I hope there are also returnable bottles available for spare change!!

L. Muffins – Come over to our house and enjoy some dust muffins we made several weeks ago. We’ll wash them down with a nice hot cup of Cream of Toenail soup; then run wildly to the nearest receptacle. We’ll have fun!!

8. Eyebrows – I rarely apply varnish to my eyebrows anymore, but when I do, they are oh so shiny!! Note:  do NOT apply eyebrow varnish while walking through a swarm of bees!! 

They get stuck and will sting until they get loose, resulting in a condition known as “puffbrow.”

11. Drywall – Looks like I’ll need to stop eating drywall chips. I thought they would help my tummy, but now my hiney seems to think it wants to be a building contractor.

V&. Chipmunks – I’ve tried in vain to teach chipmunks how to run my lawn tractor. However, I quickly learned that when it comes to machines, chipmunks do not know their holes from a hiney on the ground.

@. Northern Lights – When I listen closely, I can smell the Northern Lights. This is especially enjoyable during The Combustible Stinkweather Festival.

0. Bandersnag – I’m searching for bandersnag seeds so I can make yummy casseroles to sell online. So:  if you know anyone who remembers Johnny Wumpo And The Fleebs, please keep it to yourself. Thank you.

2z. Stereo – A recent study has in no way shown that 13% of all octopus habitats are lacking in modern stereo equipment.

Bu! Memories – Remember that one time when we never ate moth balls under the bleachers at Zoot Stadium? Oh… those were never the days.

Red. Accordion – Every time I eat a lot of beans, my digestive system becomes very aware of the thunder snacks and reacts accordingly. This has nothing to do with my inability to play the accordion.

K$. Hug Ouch – I’ve always thought porcupines were cute, but nobody ever told me not to hug one.  Please bring pliers and disinfectant.

And finally…

!!r. Seminars – To supplement my retirement income, I’ll be conducting seminars on such valuable topics as “Befriending Small Appliances,” and “Booger Removal Techniques.” To sign up, please send an e-mail and method of payment to smellmytoes@notnow.net

Thank you,

Giblet R. Snoofhorten

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OK, that’s probably enough for now. At this time I leave you with the following final thought: Happy Friday to you all!!! May your ears enjoy delicious flavors; and may your nostrils flutter softly in the breeze.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

Once More In A Blue Moon

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Here I am, writing Frappy Hiday about the Blue Supermoon of this past Thursday, using a brand new 2012 model HP 8470P computer on Open Office software and some very old fingers doing the typing… those fingers were built in 1954 but I don’t remember anything about the moon from those days because I was very small and my brain had not yet discovered animal crackers or even raisin flavored potato chips; and of course this silly, ridiculous glob of words is here to tell you that you now can enjoy the run-on sentence one can often expect in any given installment of Hippy Fardy.

Yes.

As some of you may have never known, a Blue Moon has come to mean the 2nd full moon in a month; which of course only happens once in a blue moon. And of course, blue moons occur every two or three years or so; and if you don’t believe me just ask NASA some time. There is also a bunch of folklore that surrounds the saying “blue moon,” but I’m not gonna elaborate on that here and you can’t make me. Instead, I double-D dare ya to learn about it the same way I did…

I just looked it up… HERE!! <–(click me, click me ooohh aaahhh cha cha cha)

HOWEVER: the Blue Moon we just had on the 30th was also a Supermoon! That’s because the moon was closer to the earth by nearly 17,000 miles, so it looks BIG. And of course as folks on the old TV and radio shows used to shout, “Look!! Up in the sky!! It’s a bird!! It’s a plane!! It’s SUPERMOON!!”

Or something like that.

As a matter of urgent investigation, I earlier ran outside without even running and looked up into the clear blue sky and wondered to myself whether or not the sky could possibly be any more blue; and as nightfall fell while falling I looked at this gorgeous full moon thing and was hoping the moon would make blueness, which is actually a word, and I know this because I just looked that up also; and I went yet AGAIN with the run-on sentence awreddy.

But the Blue Supermoon showed absotively no sign of blueness at all. This is not your fault, it’s merely a science thing I just made up called Lunar Lack-a-blue. According to NASA, the next Blue Supermoon won’t be here until January of 2037, which is more than 2 weeks from now. The moon is waning now but it’s still pretty darn full and awesome looking. As it wanes further, we can continue to celebrate its arrival by talking about things that only happen in a blue moon, which can be a pretty fun thing to say when something doesn’t happen very often. For example, I can say stuff like, “My pants only fit me perfectly once in a blue moon. Perhaps I should not have ice cream for every meal.”

So there you go, my friends. That’s probably everything you never wanted to consider regarding a Sue Blupermoon. I hope it aids your digestion during the upcoming hot dog eating contests I’ve never entered. In the meantime, please remember that it’s always better to be you than for you to be me; and although you can count to it, eight is a word.

Thank you.


My Meatball Muffins Moved My Mustard

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As the title of this story may or may not indicate, this has been a big and gigantor time of visiting with family and friends during the last few days; so my duty of making up a very silly story is being fulfilled with large buckets of animal crackers, lightly seasoned with crayon shavings and Captain Kaboom Rust Flavored Saxophone Sauce, rolled into a run-on sentence that of course invites all the truly masculine garbage cans to disguise themselves as tiny triangular toaster tables that shimmer in the darkness of our new Radio Ranch Wiggle Worms.

Yes.

Perhaps none of you have often been asked, “What do you think the most delicious color of the alphabet sounds like??” I never have been asked that either, so of course my very first answer I never supplied was, “Snurch Lip Surprise!!” After saying that out loud for the 347th time, nobody will ever again ask me what time the Peanut M&Ms will be flying in from Antarctica. After all, while Penguin Pete and Silvia Seal drive their go carts to the laundromat, we all will be learning new recipes for Shrimp On The Half Shell and maybe even Chopped Cat Food Surprise.

Mmmm Chopped Half Shrimp Shell Cat Surprise!! Remember the good old days when we stored that in the basement for 23 weeks? Oh my, the smell was bigger than a bag of toast that’s been sleeping in the sewer with all the other fizzy, candy coated ice cream handle bar polishing brushes. I never realized just how much shampoo would be wasted on such a gigantic pile of paper when it explodes out of the sock drawer!! My socks cried for days after powdered sawdust was added to the salad dressing. I was finally able to receive their radio lunches in a less than dignified way… all I had to do was tilt my head back and watch the moths sharpen their antlers on the ceiling fan.

These days, life is much more gribbly, and what I mean by that is we all have to put pudding in a friend’s shoes before they leave on a long trip. This will allow them to squint while they walk, and each step will be a squishy adventure. Who would have ever discovered that lawn ornaments could learn to play hockey with soup ladles? It just proves that we can always use a nice refreshing cup of shoelace extract to help us make friends with all those crazy grasshoppers that hang around at Walmart. Why else would those happy railroad clowns hide their flashlights? Everybody knows that green toilet paper makes the very best substitute for parsley flakes when nobody’s looking. Yes, those removable elbow shields you sold me came in very handy during my last trial run in the “Slide Until You Stink Competition.”

All this reminds me of a song I just made up, which of course is sung to the tune of “His Name Is Maroo.”

Here comes the Dust Monkey.  His name is Maroo. 

He’s got plenty of dustings for me and for you.

 I offered him candy to eat on his break. 

He told me, “No thank you, I prefer cake.” 

“I don’t want your dust now!!” I started to whine.

He yelled “Just go and put it where the sun don’t shine.”

I don’t think Maroo and I will ever be friends.

In closing, I’d very much like to make an important announcement:

This coming Sagnerday I will illegally change my name to Frapzak Mizzlepop, which of course was never a Native American name meaning “Slumbers With Chowder.”  Used donuts and apple chowder vinegar will be served in celebration.

Please always remember to be kind to socket wrenches and other living shopping carts.

In closing, I’d like to thank all of you for who you are. And I know I’ve said it before, but please remember that it’s always better to be you than for you to be me; and although you can count to it, eight is a word.

How’zabout some funny videos? Yes, I find them delicious on a lukewarm pond of egg sauce.

Another Year Of Awesome

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Well kids, I may be getting older. Not that I feel old, mind you. But…

I’m sitting here at the keyboard thing,

Just thinking and remembering

That back in 1972

There she was, eyes of blue.

Initially we were just friends,

But soon we were much better friends,

And then (and now) the best of friends

Sharing awesome love that never ends.

Let’s see… reality check… 2023 minus 1972 equals 51. HOLY MOLY, I’VE KNOWN AND LOVED THIS LADY FOR 51 YEARS!!! Can this be real? Who am I? What am I doing here?? Am I really 69 years old now?? Sheesh!! And then, as an added bonus, this beautiful lady allowed me to marry her on August 21, 1973. So like, this coming Monday will be like our 50th anniversary, like you know??

Like, WOW, MAN!!

Very wow!!

For the past several months, I’ve been telling anyone who wants to listen:  “If our marriage survives until August 21, we’ll be celebrating 50 years!!” I asked my Beautiful Girlfriend if there was any chance our marriage would make it for a couple more days, and she gave me that “Whadda you, nuts??” kind of look and said, “I’ll think we’ll be OK.” So… YES!!! We’re gonna be married 50 years this Monday!!

Can you tell I’m pleased about this?

Now for you youngsters (of all ages), just want you to know that this marriage business did not always come naturally to us. We both perpetrated several weepings and gnashings of teeth at various times. Slowly but surely, we began to develop skills that made our relationship endure. Lots of give and take. Lots of goofs and forgiveness. Lots of problems, but thankfully, lots of working on solutions. There, I said it: it took work for us to get where we are today. As my Lovely Bride says, “It took grace, dignity, and compromise.” And you know what?? I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

These days, it feels like we’ve been together our whole lives. We are both very OK with that notion. Heck, we’ve been best buds since were were 17!! Childhood memories are still there of course, but almost becoming a flash in the pan.  We basically grew up together.

So I want to thank Those People In Heaven for allowing us to be so fortunate. Life is very good you see. We are not financially wealthy, but we certainly aren’t poor either. We are blessed.

As you can probably tell by now, I get a little mooshy around this time of year. I’m so SO grateful because I have everything I’ve ever wanted in life. I sometimes verbalize it to my Beautiful Honey Pie.  “Honey,” I’ll say, “all I ever wanted was the love of a Beautiful Woman, a nice family, a nice home, a little bit of land (we have 5 acres), and a kick-ass stereo.”

Mission accomplished!

The moral of the story: all the work has really paid off. We have difficulty remembering the last time we got on each other’s nerves.  And no, that’s not the onset of Alzheimer’s disease. The fruit of all this relationship stuff is this: we share a very strong spiritual bond, and have lived harmoniously pretty much all the time for quite a few years now. She even lets me kiss her! Often! Pretty cool since she’s The Most Beautiful Woman In The Universe (all other women are the second most beautiful… just FYI). As I said earlier, we are not really wealthy, but I consider myself one of the richest people on the planet.

Lots of music has touched our hearts over the years, and I often sing some of our favorite songs out loud to my Beautiful Girlfriend. Well OK, I sing them pretty much wherever I am while I have her in my thoughts. Often loudly.

For this week’s video fun, I’ve posted some examples.

Peace, Love, and Happiness to you All!!

Tomorrow Or The Next Day

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So… we’ll be getting visitors soon. Friends and relatives will be in town, and many will want to come visit our little piece of Heaven in Beautiful Bear Swamp. We’ve had several months to prepare for their arrival, but there are still some last minute things to do of course. Things like painting the shed. Weeding the garden. Getting the carpets cleaned. Making sentence fragments. You know, all that cool stuff that should have been done months or at least weeks ago, but we have lives and important things to do like enjoy time with grandchildren and visit with friends that live nearby oh and cooking and cleaning and all the other life stuff that, if enumerated completely and in great detail, would make for a much longer run-on sentence; so maybe I’ll just stop pretty soon but maybe not right now, oh well yes I think that’s enough.

Don’t you agree?

We’re putting on a bit of a shindig to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. Fifty years!! How did that happen?? Well it happened just like they say in those recovery places: one day at a time. Sure doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. On the other hand, it really does feel like my Beautiful Girlfriend and I have been sweethearts / best friends / lovers for basically all our lives. Childhood memories are but a flash in the pan these days. Of course, we became best friends when we were children (we were both 17), so practically speaking we really have been together all our lives.

We grew up together!

Thankfully, the chores we’d like to get done before our visitors arrive will not even remotely resemble the absolute chaos that often ensued while preparing for something like our kids’ high school graduation open houses. Those were The Before Times. One of my “favorite” memories was the last minute disposal of a very large pile of lumber. Well, OK, it sat outside and exposed to the elements so long that much of it became a very large pile of rotten wood. They’d toss boards and planks into the dumpster at work, and Kenny would go pick “the nice ones” out and take them home. Into the carefully stacked lumber pile they’d go; waiting for that Kenny guy to do something with them. Surprisingly, some of it actually got used! And of course much of the pile was ignited a few days before graduation as a hefty onslaught of carbon molecules ejected into the atmosphere.

Ya, we burned it up. Holy Carbon Footprint, Batman!

Then we looked inside the garage where the food tables were to be placed. “OH HOLY CARP!!” we exclaimed in unison. “HOW ARE WE GONNA CLEAN THIS MESS UP IN TIME?!?!?!” Not sure who did it (it was me), but some noodle-headed wombat very gradually touched off a clutter bomb in my garage. Shelves somehow got (very gradually but effectively) filled with boxes of nails, tools, extension cords, drain snake thingies, air filters, spray paint… the list could go on and on. Not in any special order mind you. Well let’s hear it for my brother-in-law. He gave us a marvelous solution: “Run a rope between the studs and hang a big new tarp across!!” It’s a truly amazing way to make a mess invisible. Those were very stressful events, those graduation open houses from 1996 and 2001.

Is the mess from the aforementioned clutter bomb still there? Yes. Yes it is.

We’ll need to rent a refrigerator to house all the leftovers from the shindig. And yes, you really can rent a refrigerator!! So it’s gonna go in the garage… in front of a new tarp. There will be “restricted areas” where visitors are not welcome to tread. They won’t know it, but we sure will. Thankfully, there’s no pile of rotten lumber. The house is pretty presentable inside. The shed needs some paint, and there are other jobs to be done; but we’ll be OK. We’ve gotten better at just realizing that this is just part of who we are. We’re not slobs, we’re Americans, and we have too doggone much stuff. We are better at not shaming ourselves for any woulda – shoulda – coulda nonsense. All that does is spoil an otherwise great day. So we’ll tidy up where we can, and hide the rest (hee hee).

I’d really love to work on this procrastination disease I’ve worked so hard to acquire over the years. But that will have to wait till tomorrow or the next day.

Oh, and if any of you visitors are reading this, please erase the preceding text from your brains.

Thank you.

Maybe we could get Grampy to come help!!

Sniff The Dog Wisely

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Warning:  the following installment of Frappy Hiday contains large amounts of nonsense and intestinal worms.  Do not read any further if you are prone to sleeping with rubber bands in your cereal or have an allergic reaction to sense that makes no things. 

What the heck kind of title is that?  Anyhow???   Is this going to be one of those stupid dog butt sniffing stories?? Come to think of it, I’m not sure I know any dog butt sniffing stories.  I could maybe make one up, but there’s really nothing you can buy with three nickels anymore.  So why would I sniff the butt’s dog?  Our friend Musky da was very good at sniffing a butt’s dog in his day, and he seemed to be very intent with this activity.  Does this mean that sniff dogging is similar to wise wondering?

No, this is an adventure in stress relief.  You see, I’m being a bit indulgent here… and I’m going to just crack open a jar of petroleum jelly and a box of crackers, and make a nice snack that not only sticks to your ribs but lubes the bones and coats the skin with a nice shiny paragraph on Al Gore and his TV Dinners.  Then I’ll wash it all down with a nice tall glass of dry ice.   Life has presented numerous “challenges” of late, ok?  I placed “challenges” in “quotes” because there are some “people” who are getting on my “nerves” and I would love to “choke” them but I don’t want to go to “jail” just because the “kakaheads” are making me “crazy.”  You “know” what I “mean??”

Then we have “those people over there” who seem bell lent for heather to “drive me up a tree” and I don’t even have a seat belt for that tree or anything.  No air bags neither.  No smell phone to stick in my ear so I can drive like a zombie and crash into a giant salami.  I mean hey, if someone is determined to “tree me up a drive,” the very least that person could do is provide air conditioning and a hybrid engine that gets well over 93 miles to a gallon of ice cream.

Am I right or am I wrong??

Of course I am!!

I’m keenly aware that the only “solution” to letting someone “up me tree a drive” is to tune out their bullroni and strongly suggest that nasal cheese insertion be performed.  The instructions would come in a format very much like this:

“Hey you with the face!  Remember that one time when you decided to wear your smell phone on your head to drive irreverently during thundersnow and big fat swollen dead raccoons??  Are you in the want of pickled toilet paper?  I am now urging you vehemently to cram large cheese globs in your nose to enhance your breathing!!  And while you’re at it, why don’t you place your tongue in that electrical box over yonder??  That box needs testing, and you’ve just the tongue to do it!”

This, I am sure, is the only true way to diplomatically tell  flame-headed wombats just how wonderful you feel about  their actions.

Don’t you agree??

Of course I do!

I was also very compressed at the driving ability of one total bark-eating numbskull just a few yargons ago while retrieving our grandsons for a nice weekend of “Lick The Thistles.”.  There I was, careening down the expressway in my 2014 racing Toyota Sienna, and going the legal speed limit or even less, and some tonk-mookler decided to pass me with less than 2 millimeters clearance between his bumper and my front fender with no regard for the safety of any insects or other humans.  I mean, this tampon-brain forced me into the evasive “holy cow” maneuver.  Then of course he (or she??) proceeded to cut off numerous other innocent sidebanders while zipping in and out of traffic.   Now THAT’S intelligence, don’t ya think?  Seedless to nay, I had a few opinions which instantly arose from my brain and out of my mouth as I flailed the steering wheel about while I tried to prevent the kersmooshing of automotive metal molecules and finely crafted petrochemicals.

Now, believe me, I understand that people don’t intentionally do things TO me, they just DO THINGS.  But sometimes I just let it get to me, and then I go find a bug and try to teach it to sing karaoke.  And of course, trying to teach a bug to sing karaoke is not very considerate at all.  I try to be tolerant of people who are less than wonderful…   I think I’m getting better at being nice these days; but while my eyes and mouth are being pleasantly neutral, my mind is screaming at the top of its lungs:

“HOLY MACKEREL, WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BREATHE ON THIS PLANET??  I’M BECOMING CONVINCED THAT YOU NEED TO EAT BARK AND POOP AT THE MOON!!”

This is not very kind, so I’m very grateful that I don’t often react with nastiness to those type of folks.  Anymore.  Used to be I would actually SAY  the things that my mouth wanted to spit, but then I’d have to apologize and offer expensive candy or something.  Maybe that’s part of getting old enough to remember when the Beatles came over on the Mayflower, I dunno.  But I DO know that stress is a very small pair of pajamas that seek dogfood in a jar of jellybeans.  So the next time I get angry, please remind me that there really is a bus that has one way tickets to Indianapolis.  I don’t really want to go there, but if I never run away again it will be the next time.

I had an ice cream cone today.  That was helpful. And in spite of the intense heat, most of this tasty treat went into my mouth.

Speaking of stress… wasn’t I speaking of stress??  I’m very grateful that I don’t work for a living anymore.  But if I did, I’d certainly seek a job where the stress is zero minus 173 and you get paid for loafing. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello did a nice bit about just that very subject…

A Secret Letter For Radio Snack Food Engineers Only

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Dear Toaster Tossers,

As you may not be aware, there will no longer be any need for teeth tightening in the upcoming gall bladder confusions. This of course means that if just one member of our Secret Society launches more than 67 Raisin Rockets this week, all of us will be in big trouble with Mr. and Mrs. Punchworm. I therefore urge none of you to grab your cat’s elbows while making popcorn.

Of course, there probably should have been stronger crayon warnings during last night’s graham cracker storm. It’s been well known for years that improperly colored crackers will never enjoy an afternoon in Lake Michigan. Better hurry up and get a nice jar of “Happy Frog Nose Surprise” jelly for that often interrupted afternoon snack. Truly delicious with plastic bread and stainless steel soda.

Now I must ask all of you: how do you find the time to hide all those cranberry marshmallows under the couch? Wouldn’t it be safer to fill your toilet with gasoline? Is it not possible that audio cables could decide not to order Mexican food? Are jellyfish reading too many books? Can you think of anything else I want to ask??

No, of course not.

Forgive me, please. I’ve been sleeping with too many tomatoes in my armpits lately; and it’s beginning to fascinate my pet soap dish. You all probably know what it’s like to stuff carrots into a flute; so the cooking process just might cause the antlers to fall right off the minivan. Some of us will probably consider sleeping in the salad bar; but those of us who know better will joyfully roll around in the dessert bar instead.

Finally, I’d like to close with what’s known in knowing places by what’s known as an unknown run-on sentence; and in this particular sentence the word “known” is being known all too often, because you should try really hard to soften the hard boiled eggs with Professor Slapperhank’s portable egg softening lotion that is only sold in stores where the language of choice is Pazookey and all the employees can’t seem to get their freckles to line up to form various words that likely wouldn’t mean much anyway with the possible exception of Trabnack and Blooplinka Ifflebottom.

Very well then. I hereby call this meeting to order with a nice side of oven roasted Hairball Chowder and all the accompanying Crunchy Little Rocks.

Farewell till next time; and please remember to ventilate your ice cream before your lungs fill up with chopped walnuts and fancy sprinkles.

Yours with new nostrils,

Ron Again Pobblestick, Information Specialist
21½ Winky Avenue
Clam Sneeze, Frongolia 2209098

On the other hand, you have some pure Rock Nonsense…

Perseid Meteor Showers: Snap, Crackle, KABOOM!!

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Please do not be frightened, for what I am about to relate is merely cosmic truth that has occurred annually for at least 12 and maybe even 47,000. I just don’t know. But it’s true and that’s all there is to it. OK?? So don’t bother me about this ever again or I’ll start up that dead bug over there. You see that dead bug? Well, to the untrained eye, that bug is dead. But all I need to do is insert these tiny little electrodes into his vinkabules, apply the 3,047 volts from my electric fingernail removal tool, and he’ll be making zucchini bread in no time. And it will be on your conscience for bugging me about all this cosmic truth business. I hope you’re happy now.

So are you ready to receive this information without interrupting the camouflage now? I should hope so.

Just sit back and relax, and be aware that everything you hold dear is in danger of exploding and being zoofled to smithereens. “Of course,” some of you are probably yelling, “he must be talking about the Perseid meteor showers!!” Oh… none of you were yelling that?? Well, maybe you are instead quietly saying, “what’s the deal with this guy… does he eat Legos or something??” Well, for those of you who are saying that, the answer is yes, and my Lower Jaw Lego Chewing Machine is very tired so please be nice.

OK. Back to this horrible cosmic truth I’ve been ranting about. The Perseid meteor shower is an annual occurrence, and this year the best times to look for shooting stars is after midnight from mid July (now) through mid August.  According to Space.com, (<– click the link!) this year’s  Perseid meteor shower will peak around August 13.  Seriously. It happens every year around this time.  Look for them to come out of the northeastern sky. You may see as many as two per minute, depending on how many Burger Kings or other light pollution sources you have in your neighborhood. You could always ask them to turn the lights off, but they may not care about any stinking shooting stars. Gotta waste energy to make money, you know. Gotta get that global warming furnace stoked up so my next pair of tennies burst into flames as I stroll down the sidewalk during a heat wave. Thank you very much Mr. Businessman Energy Wasting People Who Leave The Lights On All Stinking Night Long!!

Alright, I’m sorry. I digress. Something I normally never do…

I must now take this time to please ask you to protect yourselves during the meteor showers. Always, always wear a fireproof bathrobe while you’re outside viewing meteor showers. You may also want to flip on the force field to protect your house from the snap, crackle, KABOOM always never happens when an 85 ton meteorite lands on your chimney.  What??  You don’t have a force field???  Ah HAH!  You sold it at the flea market didn’t you??  Have you no science brains?  You won’t catch me out there without fireproof clothing… And although we don’t have a force field, I have this aluminum bat right here.  Yup, I’m gonna be up on the roof with my modified 55 gallon steel drum overalls, bat in hand, always at the ready.  For a helmet, I modified a nice Revere Ware pot with a pillow stuffed inside. Fireproof Noggin Protection Device. When one of those fireballs puts a bead on my house, I’m gonna take that bat and smack it back into Who Knows Where.  

 I also have a heat resistant meteorite gauge mounted on the fence, right next to my rain gauge.  I want to make sure I know exactly how many inches of meteors we got during the meteor showers.  Actually the meteorite gauge is there for a selfish motive… my Honey Pie didn’t want me to get a force field because she says it’s too expensive.  I guess I’ll have the last laugh when that meteorite gauge is full of smoldering bits in the morning. Right??  Somebody say yes….

Well, hopefully you will all have clear skies and be able to see one of nature’s wonders.  There have been some years when the Perseids have been a very awesome show.  At any rate, I’ll be up on the roof, aluminum bat in hand, hoping to God that we don’t have any lightning.  

Might mess up my hair.

Perhaps a nice trip to Mars after the meteor shower…