Friday, April 30, 2010

As promised...

but it just doesn't look as bad in the picture as it does in person



[tilt your head to the right to get a better effect]



Oh wait... just look at this one.



I was asked, "Have you no shame?"

Uh... take a look at some of my blog posts.
Asked and answered

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Compulsion



I have this thing about making some kind of offering every day.

Some individuals trade one addiction for another.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

So how can I remedy this?

Nope! This is not a photo of my desk. MY DESK isn't nearly as well organized.



Worse, the work table next to it, the floor beneath it, the bookshelves across the room, the windowsill... well anyway I think, you might have an inkling.
On the plus side there is no food and the only drink cup is my coffee cup, which I intend to refill just as soon as I click on PUBLISH POST.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Dang



Well that just ruins my day

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Who says men don't remember?

A woman awakes during the night to find that her husband is not in bed. She put on her robe and goes downstairs to look for him. She finds him sitting at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee in front of him. He appears to be in deep thought, just staring at the wall.
She watches as he wipes a tear from his eye and takes a sip of his coffee. What's the matter, dear?' she whispers as she steps into the room, 'Why are you down here at this time of night?
The husband looks up from his coffee, 'It's the 20th Anniversary of the day we met'.
She can't believe he has remembered and starts to tear up. The husband continues, 'Do you remember 20 years ago when we started dating? I was 18 and you were only 16,' he says solemnly.
Once again, the wife is touched to tears thinking that her husband is so caring and sensitive. 'Yes, I do' she replies.
The husband pauses. The words were not coming easily. 'Do you remember when your father caught us in the back seat of my car?'
'Yes, I remember' said the wife, lowering herself into a chair beside him.
The husband continued. 'Do you remember when he shoved the shotgun in my face and said, 'Either you marry my daughter or I will send you to prison for 20 years?'
'I remember that, too' she replied softly
He wiped another tear from his cheek and said 'I would have gotten out today.'

Friday, April 23, 2010

Ikea

I hear and see Ikea mentioned often at various times. Other than that and that there's some kind of warehouse in the middle of nowhere south of Bakersfield, California (the home of country music - 'cause otherwise why would they have a Buck Owens Blvd.?), I know absolutely nothing about Ikea. Of course, I don't know much about Nordstroms either.
Don't feel bad for me, though. We have something here that other folks are probably just as ignorant about.
It's a livestock auction yard. Lucky for us it is on the other side of the hill so when the south wind blows we don't notice it so much.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Enough!!!

Now it's time to get serious.

Laurence J. Peter asked, "If a cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind, what is the significance of a clean desk?"

I want to know your answer.
Write them on the back of a fifty dollar bill and mail them here. Post it in the comment section.

I will post a picture of MY DESK after sufficient time has passed.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Rare

The African Blonde Antelope

Monday, April 19, 2010

If I had a links list:

Somebody posted a reader list on her blog. Seeing as how I never saw an idea that I wouldn't steal I created one, too
...these places would be on it:

Overheard in the Newsroom - constantly updated and mostly funny
Lowering the Bar - true stuff from the legal profession
Rhymes with Orange - nothing rhymes with orange every day
Uncle Jay Explains the News every Monday...except when he doesn't
xkcd - Monday, Wednesday and Friday
That is Priceless - Oh, hey!!! I did link to this
The Checkout Girl who says:
"Religion begins with the question "Why are we here?" Parades end with that question." Well that's not all she says and that is only one of the places on the Internet that you can find her.
Saving the best, IMHO, for last -
Not Always Right - a closer look at what folks in the Customer Service field deal with on an hourly basis.
This is far from a comprehensive list of the places I visit daily. I have not listed the blogs of any of those tiny heads to the left. That does not mean anything other than I am too lazy to type... or even copy... their blogs into the list.

My employment last job

So after landing my new job as a Wal-Mart greeter,
a good find for many retirees, I lasted less than a day....

About two hours into my first day on the job a very loud,
unattractive, mean-acting woman walked into the store with her two kids, yelling obscenities at them all the way through the entrance.
I said pleasantly, 'Good morning and welcome to Wal-Mart.
Nice children you have there. Are they twins?'
The ugly woman stopped yelling long enough to say,
'Hell no, they ain't twins. The oldest one's 9, and the other one's 7.
Why the hell would you think they're twins? Are you blind, or stupid?'
So I replied,
'I'm neither blind nor stupid, Ma'am, I just couldn't believe someone slept with you twice. Have a good day and thank you for shopping at
Wal-Mart.'
My supervisor said I probably wasn't cut out for this line of work.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Murphy's new law

There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

A new dawn rises...

"How'd it happen?" the doctor asked the middle-aged farmhand as he set the man's broken leg.
"Well, doc, 25 years ago ..."
"Never mind the past. Tell me how you broke your leg this morning."
"Like I was saying...25 years ago, when I first started working on the farm, that night, right after I'd gone to bed, the farmer's beautiful daughter came into my room. She asked me if there was anything I wanted. I said, "No, everything is fine."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"I'm sure," I said.
"Isn't there anything I can do for you?" she wanted to know.
"I reckon not," I replied.
"Excuse me," said the doctor, "What does this
story have to do with your leg?"
"Well, this morning," the farmhand explained,
"When it dawned on me what she meant, I
fell off the roof!"

Friday, April 16, 2010

A Story About Getting Even

A good friend sent me this a few years ago:
One December day we found an old straggly cat at our door. She was a sorry sight. Starving, dirty, smelled terrible, skinny, and hair all matted down.
We felt sorry for her so we put her in a carrier and took her to the vet.
We didn't know what to call her so we named her 'Pussycat.'
The vet decided to keep her for a day or so. He said he would let us know when we could come and get her.
My husband (the complainer) said, 'OK, but don't forget to wash her, she stinks.' He reminded the vet that it was his WIFE (me) that wanted the dirty cat, not him.
My husband and my Vet don't see eye to eye. The vet calls my husband 'El-Cheap-O', and my husband calls the vet 'El-Charge-O'. They love to hate each other and constantly 'snipe' at one another, with my husband getting in the last word on this particular occasion.
The next day my husband had an appointment with his doctor, who is located in the same building, next door to the vet.
The MD's waiting room and office was full of people waiting to see the doctor. A side door opened and the vet leaned in - he had obviously seen my husband arrive. He looked straight at my husband and in a loud voice said, 'Your wife's pussy doesn't stink any more. We washed and shaved it, and now she smells like a rose. Oh, and, by the way, I think she's pregnant. God only knows who the father is!' Then he closed the door.
Now THAT, my friends, is getting even!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

The Canadian point of view

At Mount Rushmore


I'm sure happy to have friends who provide fodder for this blog

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Putting your affairs in order

The doctor, after an examination, sighed and said, 'I've got some bad
news. You have cancer, and you'd best put your affairs in order..'
The woman was shocked, but managed to compose herself and walk into
the waiting room where her daughter had been waiting.

'Well, daughter, we women celebrate when things are good, and we
celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things aren't
well. I have cancer. So, let's head to the club and have a martini.'

After 3 or 4 martinis, the two were feeling a little less somber.
There were some laughs and more martinis. They were eventually
approached by some of the woman's old friends, who were curious as to
what the two were celebrating.

The woman told her friends they were drinking to her impending end,
'I've been diagnosed with AIDS.' The friends were aghast, gave the
woman their condolences and beat a hasty retreat.

After the friends left, the woman's daughter leaned over and
whispered, 'Momma, I thought you said you were dying of cancer, and
you just told your friends you were dying of AIDS! Why did you do
that?!'

'Because I don't want any of those bitches sleeping with your
father after I'm gone.'

And THAT, my friends, is what is called, 'Putting Your Affairs In Order.'




No virus found in this incoming message.
Checked by AVG - www.avg.com and the American Medical Association
Version: 9.0.801 / Virus Database: 271.1.1/2810 - Release Date: 04/13/10 23:31:00

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

A quote

and a metaphor:
"collapsed like a lawn chair under a Harley owner" - Dave Barry

Sunday, April 11, 2010

GOD LIVES UNDER THE BED

Don't start reading this one until you've got a minute to just 'scan' over it. It deserves some time for reflection.


I envy Kevin. My brother, Kevin, thinks God lives under his bed. At least that's what I heard him say one night.
He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, 'Are you there, God?' he said. 'Where are you? Oh, I see. Under the bed....'
I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin's unique perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in.

He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are few ways in which he is an adult.
He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will. He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Clause is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them.
I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?

Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, return to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed.
The only variation in the entire scheme is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child.
He does not seem dissatisfied.

He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05, eager for a day of simple work.

He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores.

And Saturdays - oh, the bliss of Saturdays! That's the day my Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside. 'That one's goin' to Chi-car-go! ' Kevin shouts as he claps his hands.

His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights.

And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips.

He doesn't know what it means to be discontent.

His life is simple.

He will never know the entanglements of wealth of power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats. His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be.

His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it.

He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished. But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax.

He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others. His heart is pure.

He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.
Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God.
Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child. Kevin seems to know God - to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an 'educated' person to grasp. God seems like his closest companion.
In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith.
It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.
It is then I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap. I am. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care.



Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn? After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God.
And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed.

Kevin won't be surprised at all!





FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR WINGS HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW TO FLY......

I have no idea who wrote the above

Saturday, April 10, 2010

I'm not sure I know what to make of that

Heck! Can't even be sure I want to try.
Seems like every couple of days another tiny head ...or more ...appears. There was even a blogger who emailed me saying that corporate wouldn't allow him to complete the process.
Anyway, I've decided that WHY is none of my business.
I just have to appreciate that I'm offering something that's wanted. Then I have to continue to be whoever I am... today.


Oh, and stir the pot sometimes!!!

Thursday, April 8, 2010

4/9

Yeah, that's tomorrow.
I count myself fortunate that it marks the eighth anniversary of the beginning of my sobriety.
Yep, I'm living proof that you don't have to drink... or use... to be nuts.
Anyway, today marks the eighth anniversary of my last drink. All I can tell you about it is that it was a beer... and probably the only time I ever only had one.
No. I didn't really enjoy it, but I finished it anyway.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

with apologies to anyone named Kevin and cabdrivers

A Cabbie picks up a Nun.

She gets into the cab, and notices that the VERY handsome
cab driver won't stop staring at her.

She asks him why he is staring.

He replies:
'I have a question to ask you but I don't want to offend you.'

She answers,
'My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive.'

'Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me.'

She responds,
'Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic.'

The cab driver is very excited and says,
'Yes, I'm single and Catholic!'

'OK' the nun says. 'Pull into the next alley.'

The nun fulfills his fantasy, with a kiss that would make a hooker blush.

But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.

'My dear child,' says the nun, 'why are you crying?'

'Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied and I must confess, I'm married and I'm not Catholic.'

The nun says, 'That's OK.
My name is Kevin and I'm going to a Halloween party.'

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Easter humor

Be advised. There ain't much out there.





Yeah, that's German.
No, I'm not going to translate

Friday, April 2, 2010

Oh crap!!!

I used up the good stuff commenting on other blogs.
At the risk of being accused of pimping go and read my comment at *Fantastic Friday. You may have to scroll through or read some other stuff. But hey, you have a whole weekend.

*Yeah, I know that's not the name of the blog

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Comment


It appears that the folks at Google have figured out how to bypass the Chinese censorship issue

Robin gifted me this

...and this, too!

Robyn gifted me this

Apryl presented this one

Bacon

Bacon
from Uncle Skip

An award

An award
From A Daft Scots Lass

"...you magnificent ba$tard!"

"...you magnificent ba$tard!"
from Ol' AF Sarge

Put it back where it started!!!

copy this

copy this
stick it anywhere

set things right