I wondered why the baseball kept getting bigger. Then it hit me.
The wife suggested I get myself one of those penis enlargers, so I did. She’s 25, and her name’s Kathy.
I was explaining to my wife last night that when you die you get reincarnated, but must come back as a different creature. She said she would like to come back as a cow. I said, “You obviously haven’t been listening.”
My wife has been missing a week now. The police said to prepare for the worst. So, I had to go down to Goodwill to get all of her clothes back.
The Red Cross just knocked on my door and asked if we could contribute towards the floods in Pakistan. I said, “We’d love to, but our garden hose only reaches the driveway.”
As you've read here on this blog before. It’s OK for a man to cry only under the following circumstances:
When a heroic dog dies to save its master.
The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse.
After a sudden, unexpected sharp blow to the power twins down there.
When the guy on the telephone says that your crazy uncle left you 20 million dollars.
What new man-rules ground did Obama break in the last year of his presidency when he cried as he talked about legislating more gun control?
This is a photo y'all have all seen before... what with the Clinton's off the national stage now, it remains one of the classics of there time in the spotlight. Off to the right, almost out of sight is Hillary sort of a spectator to the main two character center frame. The toothy red head and the bald black man behind Hillary just add audience.
You read a lot about Clintons during the 2016 elections.
Thankfully not so much anymore.
But if you still have the appetite and want something new, go back to my Rants and Yarns # 6 Clintongate… Pay attention to the sniveling subterfuge the Democrats used in their campaigning in 1992. The national Democrat party clearly had no guiding morals, no America-first ideals; they just wanted to win the White House at all costs.
For example – and we’re just talking here, that’s all – my bet is that the Democrats were Ross Perot’s biggest contributors, thinking every vote for Perot was a vote Bush wouldn’t get and that’s the reason Larry King’s production crew blew such encouragement to run for President up his scrawny little butt.
Watch this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PfMW3xYhitQ
This was our country at a wonderful time in our existence… yet Perot was saying we’re in “a mess.” After 12 years of Reagan/Bush, we’re in “a mess?”
I don’t think so.
What I remember of the 1992 presidential election is some article in which a business associate who knew Perot well said, “That midget’s fucking crazy.”
And his candidacy – I’m saying promoted by the Democrats – won the race for the Democrats. Combine the votes the midget got with what Bush Senior got, and Clinton loses bad.
But to be honest, Bush Senior didn’t help his cause by keeping Dan Quayle on as his VP designate. Quayle’s right up with Sarah Palin as an enormously stupid VP choice. These two people, while well intending, have the VP timber of mashed potatoes. Can you imagine a President Quayle or a President Palin…
It’d be “OK just back those communist and mid-east trucks right back up here to the loading dock… just take everything thing we have in the US, that’s OK.”
Given a chance, Quayle and Palin might have been as bad a president as… oh, Obama.
What’s happened to Quayle, anyway? But for all it matters, what has happened to the UN? When was this organization last heard from? I think the UN was one of those “good ideas” that just didn’t work.
You know what I mean?
That a phrase sometime heard in my household… “that’s a good idea that just didn’t work out.” Brenda used it the first time, shortly after we returned for Taiwan in the fall of 1975.
In doing our unpacking we found we had in one box some capiz ovals that we had bought in the Philippines, and then I had these two grapefruit-size brass balls someone had given me when I took the assignment to Vi Thanh, South Vietnam… a dirty Delta town surrounded by VC. So I’m thinking about what to do with these two separate things and came up with the idea of running copper tubing to the capiz bowls and then out to the two brass balls and have them so arranged that we could hang them over our bed — connected to a head board that would have switches on both side of the bed so that we could turn the lights on I was going to install inside the capiz bowls.
My thinking was that these six brass balls/capiz bowls over the head of our bed would add flair to the bedroom landscape, and because they would actually have lights in them, they would be function decorations… and people on seeing them would be impressed and exclaim and exclaim and exclaim.
So at not so slight a cost I bought a great length of copper tubing and then using wire supports, installed lights inside the capiz bowls and secured them firmly to the copper tubing, as I did the two brass balls. And then spent a considerable amount of money and time altering a head board to anchor the copper tubing. Running the electrical wire through toggle switches on either side of the bed and then together to make for one electrical plug into a wall socket.
Can you sort of imagine this thing? Ugly in the making like sausage, but probably mighty tasty and good when finished.
I think I told the kids and Brenda about this concept one night at supper, and the kids more or less could see what I envisioned, and since they didn’t sense this was goin’ to cost them any time and they wouldn’t necessarily have to take it to school or have to show it to their friends – they shrugged it off.
I think Brenda sort of smiled in a resigned sort of way, as if all this comes with the job of living with me… sort of the same reaction she shows when I had said over the years, “Here, hold my beer, watch this shit.”
Oh, she’d come into the garage some Saturday mornings as I was working on my project holding a cup of coffee and smile, what I took then for encouraged, though I see it now as the type smile you use with the kids who take the small bus to school.
Finally my creation was finished and using the whole Parker household we move it up to the master bed room. We slid the bed out, slide the new headboard in with these capiz and brass ball tentacles off the front over the bed, plugged in the electrical connections and I jumped on the bed to switch on the light with the far side toggle switches.
With the lights on, with the kids and Brenda standing off to the side, I looked up at the lit capiz/brass balls… and watched as they slowly bent down towards me on the bed… because they were too heavy to be held up by the copper tubing. Push them up, they would slowly start coming back down… so that laying on the bed I got a sensation like someone getting guillotined sunny side up.
What I finally did, there was a board somehow not used in the head board that had been brought up to the bedroom, and I lay on the bed and tried to hold one or two of the balls up. While I could arrest the droop of one or two at time, others would continue to sag down seeming to aim for me no matter where I moved my head on the pillows.
The kids and Brenda by this time were rolling on the floor.
The kindest thing they said was the now famous in family folklore, “I think this is a good idea that didn’t quite work out.”
Which reminds me of another story. We were in Laos at the time, and I got the idea from some where to get a tire rim, and then some junk car trim and make myself a flower pot. There was a local guy on the way to our house who had a welding shop, and if he understood what you wanted, he’d build it… so I got some stuff, from I don’t know where, but I got a tire rim and some straight trim, and some red reflectors and a whole bunch of yellow reflectors and some chrome and painted bike fenders. And sort of told this Lao welding ombudsman/artisan what I wanted… and that was to weld some of the straight trim to the tire rim and then up at the top of this 2/3 foot of trim, to attach some of the reflectors, both red and yellow at different heights, as if they were flowers, and then to weld some of the straight chrome trim that just went straight up like weeds, and then to cut the bike fenders in the middle and to twist them so that they would like stalky weeds and to weld them to the rim.
Only when it was finished, it looked like… I don’t know what it looked like. Maybe junk?
No I know what it looked like… on most any farm there’s a shed between the house and the barn, where all kind of stuff is stored. And in most shed’s there is a big ol’ trash can, or a 55 gal drum with the top cut off, in which the farmer’s has all kind of things, like rakes and shovels and post hole diggers and some ol’ trim and other assorted stuff sticking out the top. That’s a little what this completed thing looked like.
Try as hard as you could in looking at it you just couldn’t see any intrinsic art… or use. I remember Brenda trying to find something good to say about this pile of spare parts, and as I remember it, she asked, “and what were you trying for here?”
One of my passions is UNC basketball. Goes back at least to 1957, UNC’s first National Championship year.
They lose, I hurt. They win, the world’s a better place.
I am familiar with the coaching staff and every member of the team. I know their stats, their strengths, their weaknesses.
My life’s highest priority is to watch their many televised games.
Recently they played Florida State in Tallahassee. And that’s trouble. This is a team of lanky tattooed scrapers which has over the years beaten the noble Carolina round-ballers.
And now here we were again, down playing that team which had one player, 7’4″, one player 7’3″ and another 7’1″. Even in these days of giants playing college sports, a basketball team with three players over 7 foot, is formidable. How you goin’ score against a team with a front line that tall? How you goin’ to get any rebounds? These guys standing flat footed can touch the net and on the tips of there size 16 feet they touch the rim.
How Carolina goin’ win? Especially with our center on the bench with a bruised knee.
Well my boys did win… 106 to 90 thank you very much. And the forward called on to sub for our starting center, 6 foot something Brice Johnson, scored 39 points and got 23 rebounds. As compared to 4 points and 5 rebounds from the Florida State centers.
The game was one of the best two hours of my life, and the season’s only half done.
Ain’t life good?
Finally this… maybe it’s true… I wasn’t there.
Jesus is out roaming the countryside doing good. Laying his healing hands on pain and suffering, watching the lame walk again, and blind men see.
He was coming up on a small village there in this arid region he was working at the time when he saw a crowd of men dragging this one woman out to the wasteland.
He raised his hand, Jesus did, and say, “pls my good children, tell me what is goin’ on? Why are you dragging this woman by her hair?”
And one of the men, a big gruff bearded individual with mean eyes, said, “This woman’s a witch. She’s a whore, and robber, and a thief and she don’t smell good. We’re goin’ stone her to death.”
The woman turned towards Jesus as the man spoke. And smiled a mean deranged smile. Her tongue flicking out between broken yellow teeth. She eyed Jesus from his sandals up to the top of his head and then slowly back down again.
Jesus with that wonderfully soothing countenance of his, looked at the woman with love and turning his gaze up at the men said the now famous, “He who has not sinned, cast the first stone…”
And there was a pause, when from out of nowhere a rock was hurdled and hit the woman square between the eyes and she was dead before she hit the ground.
The men were startled and stared in disbelief, when Jesus looked up into the heavens and said, “Come on Dad, I was trying to make a point here.”
And by the way....