It is my hope that the people who read my blog on a regular basis get some entertainment and enjoyment out of it. I think its great that anyone would be interested in my sometimes twisted mind, and the things I write. And if you don't like it, then you don't have to look. I always include a "let me know if you don't want to be notified" disclaimer when sending out notification, and so far, no one has. If you do, please let me down gently, and say something like "Wow, its really great and all but I am just way to busy with the Ant Farm and all.....
It is also my hope that some of you are inspired to create a blog of their own. Actually, a few folks already have. James, a former co-worker has The Agora, where he shares points of view and other stuff from his life. Check it out at http://jameshi5.blogspot.com/. Also, Cyndi, my brothers fiance has created Nothing comes to Mind, at http://halfblondehalfnot.blogspot.com/. Get busy Cyndi, I want to know what's goin on, even if it seems mundane to you! Put pictures of Darren on there if you have to, just no naked ones please! I stumbled on this one: http://adelaide-in-photos.blogspot.com/ which is pictures from Australia, and this one: http://g4aqbastro.blogspot.com/ that is about space.
I was inspired by my Brother in laws wife, Kristen (what does that make her, my Sister in law in law?) who has been blogging for 3 years now. I love reading what's going on in Tennessee with their ever growing family, and seeing pictures of their beautiful kids. Mike, when you gonna start one punk? You could call it "Throw it in the freezer". Inside joke, sorry.
Anyway, I even randomly peruse blogs by doing a keyword search, such as pimple or rug burn. You can find people that like bluegrass music, love gardening (marijuana) or do Restaurant reviews. The possibilities are endless, as thousands, possibly millions, of folks are blogging. Some are Political, some are Sports related, some are Comedy, and some like mine are pure Genius.
I have added more features as of late that are very cool. New are the playlist jukebox, where I selected 39 songs that I like. Also, the cheeky quote of the day. There are so many gadgets that you can put on your blog space, it is mind blowing. (kind of like a Dead concert on shrooms)
If you need help on how to start, set up an account with Google, and do a search for blogspot.com. There is a step by step guide, and I would suggest starting simple, and then add more stuff when you get comfortable. Its really very easy. As for my Parents, I'll come over and help you, my next day off from work.
I hope some of you will take up the mantle, and blog for the masses. Do it for yourself, do it for your friends, do it for your parole officer, or do it for your country, (unless you live in North Korea, that could be dangerous) just do it today. (tomorrow works too, but its Christmas, so have a Merry one)
As Always,
Faith, Hope & Love
RB~
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Interesting Stuff....Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
I am hoping and praying the new President and his Administration can live up to its many promises. Lord knows, the challenges are big, and it will take a wise man and a strong leader to get our country through these difficult times. I hope we all pray for his daily protection, and guidance. While I did not vote for him, he now has my full support as a citizen, and as a believer in God and the spiritual forces at work. This is the greatest country on God's green earth, and lets hope it stays that way. While concerned, and upset at alot of things that take place in the USA, I am still proud to be an American. That being said, check out some info that I stumbled across:
Some unreported stats about the 2008 election. Professor Joseph Olson of Hemline University School of Law, St. Paul , Minnesota , points out some interesting facts concerning the 2008 Presidential election:
-Number of States won by: Democrats: 20; Republicans: 30
-Square miles of land won by: Democrats: 580,000; Republicans: 2,427,000
-Population of counties won by: Democrats: 127 million; Republicans: 143 million
-Murder rate per 100,000 residents in counties won by: Democrats: 13.2; Republicans: 2.1
Professor Olson adds: "In aggregate, the map of the territory Republican won was mostly the land owned by the taxpaying citizens. Democrat territory mostly encompassed those citizens living in rented or government-owned tenements and living off various forms of government welfare..." Olson believes the United States is now somewhere between the "complacency and apathy" phase of Professor Tyler's definition of democracy, with some forty percent of the nation's population already having reached the "governmental dependency" phase.
Interesting.....and a little scary.
Here is hoping you and yours have a blessed Christmas season and a great New Year. God Bless America! Psalm 115:14, 15
"Jesus is the reason for the Season"
RB~
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Business
Some of you probably know I started a new business venture a few months ago. I sell Gourmet Coffee. The retail side is not doing very well, but I also do fundraisers. I can help any group such as schools, churches, sports teams, etc raise needed funds while at the same time providing a great product. Such non-profits can make 50 percent on every sale. They sell a bag for 10 bucks and keep 5. I also make a small profit, so everyone is happy! If you are interested or know of someone else who may be, please contact me at rbroyalgourmetcoffee@yahoo.com.
Now before you go thinking that this blog is just one big blab fest about how great this all is, I will let you know that I have failed in a few business ventures before. Let me tell you about some of them.
Rice-a-Roni stand. I was visiting San Fransisco and saw a trolley car, which reminded me of Rice-a-Roni. You know the jingle, "Riiice a Roni, the San Fransisco Treat!" That got me thinking. In all my times of visiting the city by the Bay, I have never seen any evidence that Rice-a-Roni is popular, or even is present there. Being the savvy businessman that I am, I bought a hot dog cart, and converted it to a Rice-a-Roni stand. "All your favorite flavors, get yer Rice-a-Roni heeere." I had a few people try it, but business was not brisk. Then I had an idea, it needed to be easier to eat. Folks in the city are on the run, so I decided to sell my R-a-R on a stick. Sales took off! In the first few hours I had over a hundred sales! I was so excited! Then, the Health Dept showed up and said they were shutting me down. Seems all those people ended up in the Emergency Room with upset tummies. All right, so it was more like projectile vomiting. How was I supposed to know wood glue wasn't edible?
Tennis Ball Shop. I was in the park, enjoying watching the kids play and a man throw a ball for his dog. He accidentally threw the ball to far, over a fence, then shrugged and walked off. Saddened, I went home. Then it hit me. What If I had a tennis ball business, for all the dogs and owners! There were a few obstacles. First off, how would I get the balls cheap enough to sell? So, I put on a fake mustache and then I made an official looking name badge, that read "Ball inspector". Then I went over too the local courts and walked in. I flashed my badge and said loudly "Ball inspector". One man started pulling at his shorts so I said quickly, "Hand over the tennis balls". I then explained that the balls they were clearly marked "made in China", which meant that they were filled with toxic gas. I confiscated them and repeated this for a few months until I had enough to open my store. I hired a skyplane advertisement that read "My balls are better", and also a guy who juggled my balls. Things were going pretty well, and I thought I had a winner this time. Then a guy came in the shop carrying his clearly dead Shar Pei. He flopped it on the counter and screamed, "you killed Sir Wellington, with your faulty balls". How was I supposed to know that balls marked "made in China" really did have poison gas inside?
Assorted other ventures. Rubik's cube for dummies. All the squares and sides were the same color. Had 50000 made, sold 11.
Then there was Pet Hairballs. Kind of like the famous Pet Rock only....ya, another failure.
Toenail sculptures. Nope.
Earwig circus. If the fleas can do it then so can earwigs, so I thought. All they did was pinch my customers.
Pope soap on a rope. Apparently, catholics do not like a miniature pope that looks like he is being hung. They have no sense of humor.
Also tried selling the KKK version of GI Joe. Came with removable hood and action burning cross. Also a no go.
Lastly was the dead decomposed rat in a box. After all, if your Dad gives one to you for your birthday, then it must be good. Yes, that really happened to me. I have not forgotten Pops. You just never know when a snake could end up in your bed or car. Insert evil laugh here!
Hope your Thanksgiving will be great, God Bless you all!
RB~
Some of you probably know I started a new business venture a few months ago. I sell Gourmet Coffee. The retail side is not doing very well, but I also do fundraisers. I can help any group such as schools, churches, sports teams, etc raise needed funds while at the same time providing a great product. Such non-profits can make 50 percent on every sale. They sell a bag for 10 bucks and keep 5. I also make a small profit, so everyone is happy! If you are interested or know of someone else who may be, please contact me at rbroyalgourmetcoffee@yahoo.com.
Now before you go thinking that this blog is just one big blab fest about how great this all is, I will let you know that I have failed in a few business ventures before. Let me tell you about some of them.
Rice-a-Roni stand. I was visiting San Fransisco and saw a trolley car, which reminded me of Rice-a-Roni. You know the jingle, "Riiice a Roni, the San Fransisco Treat!" That got me thinking. In all my times of visiting the city by the Bay, I have never seen any evidence that Rice-a-Roni is popular, or even is present there. Being the savvy businessman that I am, I bought a hot dog cart, and converted it to a Rice-a-Roni stand. "All your favorite flavors, get yer Rice-a-Roni heeere." I had a few people try it, but business was not brisk. Then I had an idea, it needed to be easier to eat. Folks in the city are on the run, so I decided to sell my R-a-R on a stick. Sales took off! In the first few hours I had over a hundred sales! I was so excited! Then, the Health Dept showed up and said they were shutting me down. Seems all those people ended up in the Emergency Room with upset tummies. All right, so it was more like projectile vomiting. How was I supposed to know wood glue wasn't edible?
Tennis Ball Shop. I was in the park, enjoying watching the kids play and a man throw a ball for his dog. He accidentally threw the ball to far, over a fence, then shrugged and walked off. Saddened, I went home. Then it hit me. What If I had a tennis ball business, for all the dogs and owners! There were a few obstacles. First off, how would I get the balls cheap enough to sell? So, I put on a fake mustache and then I made an official looking name badge, that read "Ball inspector". Then I went over too the local courts and walked in. I flashed my badge and said loudly "Ball inspector". One man started pulling at his shorts so I said quickly, "Hand over the tennis balls". I then explained that the balls they were clearly marked "made in China", which meant that they were filled with toxic gas. I confiscated them and repeated this for a few months until I had enough to open my store. I hired a skyplane advertisement that read "My balls are better", and also a guy who juggled my balls. Things were going pretty well, and I thought I had a winner this time. Then a guy came in the shop carrying his clearly dead Shar Pei. He flopped it on the counter and screamed, "you killed Sir Wellington, with your faulty balls". How was I supposed to know that balls marked "made in China" really did have poison gas inside?
Assorted other ventures. Rubik's cube for dummies. All the squares and sides were the same color. Had 50000 made, sold 11.
Then there was Pet Hairballs. Kind of like the famous Pet Rock only....ya, another failure.
Toenail sculptures. Nope.
Earwig circus. If the fleas can do it then so can earwigs, so I thought. All they did was pinch my customers.
Pope soap on a rope. Apparently, catholics do not like a miniature pope that looks like he is being hung. They have no sense of humor.
Also tried selling the KKK version of GI Joe. Came with removable hood and action burning cross. Also a no go.
Lastly was the dead decomposed rat in a box. After all, if your Dad gives one to you for your birthday, then it must be good. Yes, that really happened to me. I have not forgotten Pops. You just never know when a snake could end up in your bed or car. Insert evil laugh here!
Hope your Thanksgiving will be great, God Bless you all!
RB~
Friday, October 17, 2008
Fascinating, but Useless Facts
For no particular reason at all, here are some Fascinating, but Useless Facts.
Cows do not have upper front teeth.
Cher's real name is Cherilyn Sarkisian.
Esther is the only book in the Bible that does not contain the word "God."
The shortest war on record took place in 1896 when Zanzibar surrendered to Britain after 38 minutes.
Half the world's population earns about 5% of the world's wealth.
New Zealand is home to 4 million people and 70 million sheep.
A square piece of dry paper cannot be folded in half more than 7 times.(try it)
William Henry Harrison had the shortest term of office as president. He served from for 32 days, from 4 March to 4 April 1841.
The people killed most often during bank robberies are the robbers.
The harmonica is the world's best-selling music instrument.
US and European expenditure on pet food is $17 billion per year.
The global expenditure on healthcare and nutrition is $13 billion.
Bananas are the world's most popular fruit after tomatoes. In western countries, they could account for 3% of a grocer's total sales.
About 500 small meteorites fall to earth every year but most fall in the sea and in unpopulated areas. There is no record of a person being killed by a meteorite but animals are occasionally hit.
The length from your wrist to your elbow is the same as the length of your foot. (I checked)
The pig is rated the fourth most intelligent animal but are mentioned only twice in the Bible. Sheep are mentioned 45 times and goats 88 times in the Bible. Dogs are mentioned 14 times and lions 89 times, but domestic cats are not mentioned.
What do people fear most? At the top of the list is death, the fear of which is necrophobia. Second, apparently, is the fear of failure, which is called kakorrhaphiophobia. the fear of bowel movements is called defecaloesiophobia
Want to know what happened on this day (or any other) in history? go here:http://www.didyouknow.cd/history/year.htm
Want to listen to TV theme show songs? go here:http://www.melaman2.com/tvshows/
Want to find someone (anyone) in the united states? go here: http://www.usa-people-search.com/
Where does fart gas come from? The gas in our intestines come from several sources: air we swallow, gas seeping into our intestines from our blood, gas produced by chemical reactions in our guts, and gas produced by bacteria living in our guts. For further education on flatulence, check out Facts on Farts, at: http://www.heptune.com/farts.html
That's all for now.
Faith, Hope and Love
RB~
Cows do not have upper front teeth.
Cher's real name is Cherilyn Sarkisian.
Esther is the only book in the Bible that does not contain the word "God."
The shortest war on record took place in 1896 when Zanzibar surrendered to Britain after 38 minutes.
Half the world's population earns about 5% of the world's wealth.
New Zealand is home to 4 million people and 70 million sheep.
A square piece of dry paper cannot be folded in half more than 7 times.(try it)
William Henry Harrison had the shortest term of office as president. He served from for 32 days, from 4 March to 4 April 1841.
The people killed most often during bank robberies are the robbers.
The harmonica is the world's best-selling music instrument.
US and European expenditure on pet food is $17 billion per year.
The global expenditure on healthcare and nutrition is $13 billion.
Bananas are the world's most popular fruit after tomatoes. In western countries, they could account for 3% of a grocer's total sales.
About 500 small meteorites fall to earth every year but most fall in the sea and in unpopulated areas. There is no record of a person being killed by a meteorite but animals are occasionally hit.
The length from your wrist to your elbow is the same as the length of your foot. (I checked)
The pig is rated the fourth most intelligent animal but are mentioned only twice in the Bible. Sheep are mentioned 45 times and goats 88 times in the Bible. Dogs are mentioned 14 times and lions 89 times, but domestic cats are not mentioned.
What do people fear most? At the top of the list is death, the fear of which is necrophobia. Second, apparently, is the fear of failure, which is called kakorrhaphiophobia. the fear of bowel movements is called defecaloesiophobia
Want to know what happened on this day (or any other) in history? go here:http://www.didyouknow.cd/history/year.htm
Want to listen to TV theme show songs? go here:http://www.melaman2.com/tvshows/
Want to find someone (anyone) in the united states? go here: http://www.usa-people-search.com/
Where does fart gas come from? The gas in our intestines come from several sources: air we swallow, gas seeping into our intestines from our blood, gas produced by chemical reactions in our guts, and gas produced by bacteria living in our guts. For further education on flatulence, check out Facts on Farts, at: http://www.heptune.com/farts.html
That's all for now.
Faith, Hope and Love
RB~
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Update............Poetry
Greetings,
It's been awhile since my last post, I apologize as things have been busy. A few highlights of my life these last few weeks are:
Going on a fishing trip with my brother and Dad up in the Gold lakes basin, where we had a great time. We ate, fished, (yes, even Dad caught some fish) and hiked to t
he top of the Sierra Buttes. At 8700 feet, it was a great view and on the way back, I decided to try and catch a Golden trout at Young America lake. The golden is the one trout I have never caught, so the risk of climbing down the face of the Buttes was worth it. I made it down to the water in about 30 minutes. I caught about 12 fish, all brook trout. So the quest for the Gold(en) goes on. It took me about 3 hours to get back to camp, as I had to rock hop, shimmy, crash through brush, etc. In all, I dropped more than 2500 feet on my descent down. Needless to say, my legs felt like someone had jack-hammered them, especially my two "bionic" knees. All in all, it was a blast!
he top of the Sierra Buttes. At 8700 feet, it was a great view and on the way back, I decided to try and catch a Golden trout at Young America lake. The golden is the one trout I have never caught, so the risk of climbing down the face of the Buttes was worth it. I made it down to the water in about 30 minutes. I caught about 12 fish, all brook trout. So the quest for the Gold(en) goes on. It took me about 3 hours to get back to camp, as I had to rock hop, shimmy, crash through brush, etc. In all, I dropped more than 2500 feet on my descent down. Needless to say, my legs felt like someone had jack-hammered them, especially my two "bionic" knees. All in all, it was a blast!My Dad had his 50 year reunion with his college fraternity brothers. Darren and I video taped the event and had a good time meeting all the old guys and gals. Lots of good memories of a more innocent time (the late 50's) and some good stories as well. Coach Sperbek of the CSUS Hornets even showed up and asked if some of the guys had any eligible years left, as he needed some good players. Dad, you never told me you were a linebacker! Way to go!
We saw alot of great friends at the service at our previous church, where my friend and Pastor Carlo Walth was honored for his 19 years of service there. He performed our wedding almost 18 years ago, and has been a great mentor and friend. He was presented an opportunity to take over a christian camp in the mountains, Sierra Pines. That just happened to be his dream and vision for all the time I have known him. We are so happy for him, and the great part is he will still live in the area, so we can continue that friendship. We share a love of Phil Keaggy and fishing, among other things. Now about that Kodiak Alaska trip next year.....
I finally had some of my poems copyrighted by the official U.S. office. I am looking for an illustrator before submitting them for publishing. Let me know if you know of any. Here are a few examples of my work.
Honesty
It smells like a fish head, that’s been left out for a week.
Chopped liver mixed with kidneys, it’s a putrid smelly stink.
Or maybe rhino vomit, baked in the sun and boiling hot.
Limburger cheese and goat eyeballs, with some wombat snot.
The reek of reindeer pee, or the rear end of a skunk.
Pond scum and dead tadpoles, with lots of other junk.
The armpit of a lumberjack, orangutans fresh poo.
The stench is very sickening, is what I’m telling you.
In fact it is so bad, I really think it could bring death.
Its just a little hard to tell you, I’m talking about your breath.
It smells like a fish head, that’s been left out for a week.
Chopped liver mixed with kidneys, it’s a putrid smelly stink.
Or maybe rhino vomit, baked in the sun and boiling hot.
Limburger cheese and goat eyeballs, with some wombat snot.
The reek of reindeer pee, or the rear end of a skunk.
Pond scum and dead tadpoles, with lots of other junk.
The armpit of a lumberjack, orangutans fresh poo.
The stench is very sickening, is what I’m telling you.
In fact it is so bad, I really think it could bring death.
Its just a little hard to tell you, I’m talking about your breath.
Snail
Sometimes I sit around, and wish I were a snail.
I’d slide around, on the ground and leave a slimy trail.
I’d have little eyes, that are bulbous and long.
And I’d love to sing, my happy snail song.
I’d eat people’s flowers and plants.
And for friends I’d have earwigs and ants.
And if I got mad, or didn’t feel well.
I’d say goodbye and go in my shell.
The life of a snail would be good you see.
But there is one thought that keeps haunting me.
A man walking in his big black boots.
And he does not see me so I holler and hoot.
But its too late, I hear a crunching sound.
And the next thing I know, my guts on the ground.
A big slimy mess is all I would be.
And that is the thought that cured me.
Of wishing I were a snail.
Sometimes I sit around, and wish I were a snail.
I’d slide around, on the ground and leave a slimy trail.
I’d have little eyes, that are bulbous and long.
And I’d love to sing, my happy snail song.
I’d eat people’s flowers and plants.
And for friends I’d have earwigs and ants.
And if I got mad, or didn’t feel well.
I’d say goodbye and go in my shell.
The life of a snail would be good you see.
But there is one thought that keeps haunting me.
A man walking in his big black boots.
And he does not see me so I holler and hoot.
But its too late, I hear a crunching sound.
And the next thing I know, my guts on the ground.
A big slimy mess is all I would be.
And that is the thought that cured me.
Of wishing I were a snail.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Sept. Update, etc.
Hello there, its finally here. September, which means 3 things. Fall, Football and Fishing!
Yes, its my favorite time of year, for the reasons listed. Fall is not quite here, as we are still having some triple digit temps. But Football is back, and I am excited. Now, being a 49ers fan, I have not had alot to cheer for the last several years. The team has not been good, to say the least. But maybe this will be the year when they make the playoffs, or win a Super Bowl. I am not holding my breath, but that is what is nice about a new season every year, hope is reborn. Unless of course you are a Raiders fan. Then your purgatory continues. Lets face it, Al Davis is 117 years old and seems to think the guys on his team wear leather helmets. Let somebody else run the team already, or at least hire a coach who is older than the cheerleaders.
Another thing that makes the season exciting is Fantasy Football. That is where you get together with guys who draft teams of NFL players, and live and die with how well they re players do each week. Of course there is wagering going on so it makes it even more "interesting". I have been playing for 15 years, and with the same group of guys for the last seven. We just had our draft, and besides the camaraderie, we all make fun of each other for things said or done at the draft for the last seven years. These guys have memories like elephants: I mis-pronounced a players name 5 years ago, and they still ask me if I am going to draft Borighter. Real name, Borictor. Or reminding a guy that his original Team name was Fire and Desire, which sounds like a duo of gay strippers. There are many other examples, but I have the last laugh on names. My team is the Fabulous Flatulent Freaks. It seems fitting. I guess Ballbusters and Man Beasts are OK names too. Anyway, it is alot of fun, especially when you draft the guy who ran for 220 yards and 2 td's, in the first week, like I did. (insert puffed out chest here)
The twins are doing well in 7th grade. They are attending the same Jr. High where my brother Darren and I went. Luckily, all the teachers and administration have died or retired, or the Buckman name would have made things difficult for them. Let's just say that by the time I left the school, they were considering new by-laws prohibiting any more Buckmans. Maybe time does heal all hurts.....
Alicia is the top of the food chain (6th grade) at her school this year, and is doing great. She plays soccer for the Citrus Heights Fury, and scored 5 goals in two games a few weekends ago. She plays left forward and makes her family proud.
My job is going OK. Through a divine intervention, I am a full time supervisor again, after a 3 month "reassignment". I am 4 miles from home and have some good bosses. Retail is still stressful, but I find ways to have fun and keep things interesting. That will never change!
I also bought a Coffee Distributorship: RB Royal Gourmet Coffee. I have displays in mostly liquor and cigarette stores. I also am doing fundraisers for Teams, Groups, Schools etc. I can help them get 50% profit from every sale, while at the same time making a little money for our family. If you know of any such groups that need to raise funds, please contact me at rbroyalgourmetcoffee@yahoo.com. It really is a great product and program.
Kathies job cut back her hours, but she stays busy with her online book sales, and the "shuttle service" for the girls. Drop her a line at k_buckwoman@hotmail.com. Make sure you mention what a great husband she has, or something like that. I can get you a good discount of coffee....
On a final note, I created a sign for our front door after repeated violations of our No Soliciting sign. Here is what it reads:
Since many seem confused by what
NO SOLICITING
means, here is a list of who we mean:
v Jehovah’s Witnesses
v Mormons
v Dianetics Kooks
v “Free” Offers of any kind
v Home improvement of any kind
v Yard service of any kind.
v Food Products of any kind
v Pool service of any kind
v Magazine or Book sales
v Prostitution
v Illegal Gambling
v Legal Gambling
v Miracle Potions
v Alien Abductions
v Hugs
v Your Mom’s secret recipes
v Any other offer or service we have not listed above
This means you, and we believe in the 2nd Amendment.
Blessings to you and Yours!
RB~
Yes, its my favorite time of year, for the reasons listed. Fall is not quite here, as we are still having some triple digit temps. But Football is back, and I am excited. Now, being a 49ers fan, I have not had alot to cheer for the last several years. The team has not been good, to say the least. But maybe this will be the year when they make the playoffs, or win a Super Bowl. I am not holding my breath, but that is what is nice about a new season every year, hope is reborn. Unless of course you are a Raiders fan. Then your purgatory continues. Lets face it, Al Davis is 117 years old and seems to think the guys on his team wear leather helmets. Let somebody else run the team already, or at least hire a coach who is older than the cheerleaders.
Another thing that makes the season exciting is Fantasy Football. That is where you get together with guys who draft teams of NFL players, and live and die with how well they re players do each week. Of course there is wagering going on so it makes it even more "interesting". I have been playing for 15 years, and with the same group of guys for the last seven. We just had our draft, and besides the camaraderie, we all make fun of each other for things said or done at the draft for the last seven years. These guys have memories like elephants: I mis-pronounced a players name 5 years ago, and they still ask me if I am going to draft Borighter. Real name, Borictor. Or reminding a guy that his original Team name was Fire and Desire, which sounds like a duo of gay strippers. There are many other examples, but I have the last laugh on names. My team is the Fabulous Flatulent Freaks. It seems fitting. I guess Ballbusters and Man Beasts are OK names too. Anyway, it is alot of fun, especially when you draft the guy who ran for 220 yards and 2 td's, in the first week, like I did. (insert puffed out chest here)
The twins are doing well in 7th grade. They are attending the same Jr. High where my brother Darren and I went. Luckily, all the teachers and administration have died or retired, or the Buckman name would have made things difficult for them. Let's just say that by the time I left the school, they were considering new by-laws prohibiting any more Buckmans. Maybe time does heal all hurts.....
Alicia is the top of the food chain (6th grade) at her school this year, and is doing great. She plays soccer for the Citrus Heights Fury, and scored 5 goals in two games a few weekends ago. She plays left forward and makes her family proud.
My job is going OK. Through a divine intervention, I am a full time supervisor again, after a 3 month "reassignment". I am 4 miles from home and have some good bosses. Retail is still stressful, but I find ways to have fun and keep things interesting. That will never change!
I also bought a Coffee Distributorship: RB Royal Gourmet Coffee. I have displays in mostly liquor and cigarette stores. I also am doing fundraisers for Teams, Groups, Schools etc. I can help them get 50% profit from every sale, while at the same time making a little money for our family. If you know of any such groups that need to raise funds, please contact me at rbroyalgourmetcoffee@yahoo.com. It really is a great product and program.
Kathies job cut back her hours, but she stays busy with her online book sales, and the "shuttle service" for the girls. Drop her a line at k_buckwoman@hotmail.com. Make sure you mention what a great husband she has, or something like that. I can get you a good discount of coffee....
On a final note, I created a sign for our front door after repeated violations of our No Soliciting sign. Here is what it reads:
Since many seem confused by what
NO SOLICITING
means, here is a list of who we mean:
v Jehovah’s Witnesses
v Mormons
v Dianetics Kooks
v “Free” Offers of any kind
v Home improvement of any kind
v Yard service of any kind.
v Food Products of any kind
v Pool service of any kind
v Magazine or Book sales
v Prostitution
v Illegal Gambling
v Legal Gambling
v Miracle Potions
v Alien Abductions
v Hugs
v Your Mom’s secret recipes
v Any other offer or service we have not listed above
This means you, and we believe in the 2nd Amendment.
Blessings to you and Yours!
RB~
Monday, August 25, 2008
Not always funny....
Hello, how are things in your part of the world?
While you are used to seeing funny things on my blog, let me play it straight this time. As a wise friend once told me, "Act like a clown all of the time and that is how people will treat you, like a clown". So, with that in mind, here is my attempt at something serious.
Things are going well in the Buckman household. In spite of the usual trials and life's challenges, we are truly blessed. Yes, the price of everything is going up, while our wages stay the same, but by third world standards, we are very rich. I read in today's paper that a family of five in Sacramento needs to earn $65,000 to be "self-sufficient", but we have managed to live pretty good, well below that figure. When you factor in things like good health, above average intelligence, great extended family and God's grace, we are zillionares!
What has brought on this sudden realization of gratitude? Well, a few things, actually.
First, I just got done watching Total Makeover Home edition. Let me admit, I just balled my face off for a good half hour. The shirt I used to dry my tears was very damp when it was done. I am not kidding about that. This show always makes me cry, but this weeks episode was special. It highlighted the Martinez family in New Mexico. Gerald, the father decided to move his family into a crime infested area to show the folks who lived there, Gods love, and to literally help them with food, shelter, etc. Their ministry has not only helped hundreds, but the crime rate in that area was reduced by over 50 percent since they arrived! That is called making a (huge) difference! It was Gerald's hope that if folks saw what one family could do in their neighborhood, then they too would want to do the same. It touched me, because I have been thinking about what kind of legacy I want to leave on this planet. Do I want to be known as a funny guy, who works hard and loves his family? Yes. Those are good things. Honorable things. But are they enough?
That is what I am struggling with. I think I want more than that. But how? You can be sure I am praying about these very things, and in my tears after the show, I asked God how I could make a difference. I know that moving my family into the ghetto is not realistic. But as I thought about it, there is a tangible way we are making a difference already. Their names are Keila and Kelisson, and they live in South America. We have been their Compassion International sponsors for about 4 years. We have had other children we sponsored before them, for the last 20 years. I tell you this not so you will give us a pat on the back, but so that maybe it will spur you to do the same. As I looked at the Compassion website before writing this blog, I was reminded there are literally thousands, if not millions of children living in extreme poverty. And at the same time I felt God nudge me and say, "You asked, and here is the answer". So from today forward, I am going to tell everyone I know of, how they can change the world. You can sponsor a child, or 2 or a hundred if you are that blessed, through this great organization. They exist as a Christian child advocacy ministry that releases children from spiritual, economic, social and physical poverty and enables them to become responsible, fulfilled Christian adults. Today, Compassion helps more than 1 million children in 24 countries. That is awesome! Even if you do not decide to sponsor a child on a monthly basis, right now a world food crisis is taking place, and a one time gift would be great. Help me change the world, one child at a time. Jesus said "And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward. " Matthew 10:42
I am sure I will go back to doing some funny posts, and life will continue on for us the way it always does. But if one child is sponsored because of my post, or funds are donated in any amount, then I have changed the world. You can too, because as Gerald Martinez said, "we all have to do our part".
Thanks for letting me do mine today, and if you were offended by this post, I do not apologize one bit. God told me to, and that is enough for me.
www.compassion.com
While you are used to seeing funny things on my blog, let me play it straight this time. As a wise friend once told me, "Act like a clown all of the time and that is how people will treat you, like a clown". So, with that in mind, here is my attempt at something serious.
Things are going well in the Buckman household. In spite of the usual trials and life's challenges, we are truly blessed. Yes, the price of everything is going up, while our wages stay the same, but by third world standards, we are very rich. I read in today's paper that a family of five in Sacramento needs to earn $65,000 to be "self-sufficient", but we have managed to live pretty good, well below that figure. When you factor in things like good health, above average intelligence, great extended family and God's grace, we are zillionares!
What has brought on this sudden realization of gratitude? Well, a few things, actually.
First, I just got done watching Total Makeover Home edition. Let me admit, I just balled my face off for a good half hour. The shirt I used to dry my tears was very damp when it was done. I am not kidding about that. This show always makes me cry, but this weeks episode was special. It highlighted the Martinez family in New Mexico. Gerald, the father decided to move his family into a crime infested area to show the folks who lived there, Gods love, and to literally help them with food, shelter, etc. Their ministry has not only helped hundreds, but the crime rate in that area was reduced by over 50 percent since they arrived! That is called making a (huge) difference! It was Gerald's hope that if folks saw what one family could do in their neighborhood, then they too would want to do the same. It touched me, because I have been thinking about what kind of legacy I want to leave on this planet. Do I want to be known as a funny guy, who works hard and loves his family? Yes. Those are good things. Honorable things. But are they enough?
That is what I am struggling with. I think I want more than that. But how? You can be sure I am praying about these very things, and in my tears after the show, I asked God how I could make a difference. I know that moving my family into the ghetto is not realistic. But as I thought about it, there is a tangible way we are making a difference already. Their names are Keila and Kelisson, and they live in South America. We have been their Compassion International sponsors for about 4 years. We have had other children we sponsored before them, for the last 20 years. I tell you this not so you will give us a pat on the back, but so that maybe it will spur you to do the same. As I looked at the Compassion website before writing this blog, I was reminded there are literally thousands, if not millions of children living in extreme poverty. And at the same time I felt God nudge me and say, "You asked, and here is the answer". So from today forward, I am going to tell everyone I know of, how they can change the world. You can sponsor a child, or 2 or a hundred if you are that blessed, through this great organization. They exist as a Christian child advocacy ministry that releases children from spiritual, economic, social and physical poverty and enables them to become responsible, fulfilled Christian adults. Today, Compassion helps more than 1 million children in 24 countries. That is awesome! Even if you do not decide to sponsor a child on a monthly basis, right now a world food crisis is taking place, and a one time gift would be great. Help me change the world, one child at a time. Jesus said "And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward. " Matthew 10:42
I am sure I will go back to doing some funny posts, and life will continue on for us the way it always does. But if one child is sponsored because of my post, or funds are donated in any amount, then I have changed the world. You can too, because as Gerald Martinez said, "we all have to do our part".
Thanks for letting me do mine today, and if you were offended by this post, I do not apologize one bit. God told me to, and that is enough for me.
www.compassion.com
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Welcome to the teenage zone.....
........That's why I sleep in the garage.
Yes, its true, we have entered that phase of life (insert scary music here) where we have teenagers in the house. Female teenagers. Two of them. Mine. (insert a confused and scared look on my face here). And another one who is 11 going on 19.
Oh, I knew it was coming. I remember the day they were born, I said to Kathie, "Do you realize in 13 short years we will be the parents of teenage girls?" She was still high from the happy pills so she said something like "that's great dear, let me cut off your penis" What? I chalk it up to 36 hours of labor, and the fact I have a penis. Somehow, he always gets blamed for everything. Yes, I said he, all of us guys view our little man as just that, a separate, but special part of our whole make-up. Most guys I know have a pet name for him, and you are not going to find out what mine is. Lets just say it rhymes with loose. And has antlers.
Anyway, I got off track. Back to teenager stuff. Like emotions. Can you say "hyper sensitive crazy goofy intense"? I knew you could. I thought it was Urban legend that you could simply ask your daughter, "How was your day?" and they stomp down the hallway screaming, "Daddy, how could you ask me such a thing?" (Insert door slamming here!) I admit, I do get cranky myself at times, when I discover that the two gallons of milk and 3 large boxes of cereal have been consumed in a day and a half, but that's when I usually retreat into my own little oasis, my garage.
Now, mine is nice, and I love it, but its nowhere near the level of my cousins husband, who will remain nameless. Lets just say it rhymes with rent. And starts with a B. Anyway, he has a pool table, cool beer mirrors, a TV and carpet. I asked if I should take my shoes off the last time I was there, it felt like hallowed ground. My garage is nice, I have a small TV and a mini fridge, but it is usually covered in the 17 loads of laundry that need doing at all times. So, I trudge out through the towels and girls undergarment and more towels, and watch TV. I have threatened to move out there permanently, but it is too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter, and there are spiders. Did I mention dirty towels?
So, I press on ahead, trying to endure all of this and wait til they start dating. When they are 34. Seriously, I am not ready for that part yet. Teenage boys with their constant I-pod in their ear, that dumb look on their face, and that shaggy, unkempt hair. Its the 70's all over again, except we kept our butts in our pants. And we had 8-Tracks.
So about dating, I heard a comedian say he had the teenage girl, dating dilemma all figured out: He would not potty train his daughter. She would be on her first date, and they boy goes to make his move, and asks, "what is that smell?" That's a good idea, but then we would have to rent a shipping container for all the laundry. I still say stun guns are the way to go.
So anyway, I try and endure the wild mood swings, the constant attitude, the almost constant texting and Cell-phone bills, and the hugs. Yes, that's right, when one of my daughters stops and gives me a great big hug....the world stops spinning for just a few moments, and everything is all right. "Dad, I love you".....makes me tear up and makes me so GRATEFUL that The Lord allowed me to be a Dad, to three wonderful, special, smart, talented, awesome, (insert about 100 more qualities here) girls that keep me on my toes, but also bring me much joy and contentment. I love you ladies, and promise to watch out for you, and embarrass you, as much as I can. You must promise to help with the laundry, keep on keeping me on my toes, and keep on hugging me as long as we are both alive.
(insert a smile here)
Yes, its true, we have entered that phase of life (insert scary music here) where we have teenagers in the house. Female teenagers. Two of them. Mine. (insert a confused and scared look on my face here). And another one who is 11 going on 19.
Oh, I knew it was coming. I remember the day they were born, I said to Kathie, "Do you realize in 13 short years we will be the parents of teenage girls?" She was still high from the happy pills so she said something like "that's great dear, let me cut off your penis" What? I chalk it up to 36 hours of labor, and the fact I have a penis. Somehow, he always gets blamed for everything. Yes, I said he, all of us guys view our little man as just that, a separate, but special part of our whole make-up. Most guys I know have a pet name for him, and you are not going to find out what mine is. Lets just say it rhymes with loose. And has antlers.
Anyway, I got off track. Back to teenager stuff. Like emotions. Can you say "hyper sensitive crazy goofy intense"? I knew you could. I thought it was Urban legend that you could simply ask your daughter, "How was your day?" and they stomp down the hallway screaming, "Daddy, how could you ask me such a thing?" (Insert door slamming here!) I admit, I do get cranky myself at times, when I discover that the two gallons of milk and 3 large boxes of cereal have been consumed in a day and a half, but that's when I usually retreat into my own little oasis, my garage.
Now, mine is nice, and I love it, but its nowhere near the level of my cousins husband, who will remain nameless. Lets just say it rhymes with rent. And starts with a B. Anyway, he has a pool table, cool beer mirrors, a TV and carpet. I asked if I should take my shoes off the last time I was there, it felt like hallowed ground. My garage is nice, I have a small TV and a mini fridge, but it is usually covered in the 17 loads of laundry that need doing at all times. So, I trudge out through the towels and girls undergarment and more towels, and watch TV. I have threatened to move out there permanently, but it is too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter, and there are spiders. Did I mention dirty towels?
So, I press on ahead, trying to endure all of this and wait til they start dating. When they are 34. Seriously, I am not ready for that part yet. Teenage boys with their constant I-pod in their ear, that dumb look on their face, and that shaggy, unkempt hair. Its the 70's all over again, except we kept our butts in our pants. And we had 8-Tracks.
So about dating, I heard a comedian say he had the teenage girl, dating dilemma all figured out: He would not potty train his daughter. She would be on her first date, and they boy goes to make his move, and asks, "what is that smell?" That's a good idea, but then we would have to rent a shipping container for all the laundry. I still say stun guns are the way to go.
So anyway, I try and endure the wild mood swings, the constant attitude, the almost constant texting and Cell-phone bills, and the hugs. Yes, that's right, when one of my daughters stops and gives me a great big hug....the world stops spinning for just a few moments, and everything is all right. "Dad, I love you".....makes me tear up and makes me so GRATEFUL that The Lord allowed me to be a Dad, to three wonderful, special, smart, talented, awesome, (insert about 100 more qualities here) girls that keep me on my toes, but also bring me much joy and contentment. I love you ladies, and promise to watch out for you, and embarrass you, as much as I can. You must promise to help with the laundry, keep on keeping me on my toes, and keep on hugging me as long as we are both alive.
(insert a smile here)
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Assorted thoughts, ramblings and jokes. Kinda sorta...
Hi, its July 5th, the day where we clean up all the stuff we blew up last night. I am sure the founding Father's would be proud to know that allot of folks get drunk, eat meat, and light stuff on fire, not necessarily in that order. I thought I could get off cheap by buying a chunk of dry ice and making soda bottle bombs. The first one blew nicely, then the next one, a juicy juice bottle, expanded twice its normal size, and did nothing. I made a few others with the same effect. I guess plastic is stronger than it used to be. So I had a dilemma, cause I did not want to leave them there. I could picture a cat walking by and...POW, or worse yet, the paper boy. So, to fix the problem, I went and got an ax, and chopped at the first. It fizzed, and that was that, On to the next one, and POW! Cold liquid sprayed all over my face, and the bottle was in tatters. Ok, so I kicked the last one in the neighbors yard, but I don't think they have a cat.
My attempt at going to Beijing on the Olympic team is over. They said they do not have an event for solo synchronized swimming. Bummer. I wonder about the Special Olympics?
Do you know what they call a pig who cheats while playing hide-n-go seek? Peking Pork...
I was watching the show, America's got Talent the other night, and its true. Where else could you see a man belly slapping the Star Spangled Banner, or a lady who could burp the theme song from Cheers? I wonder if I could get on the show with my booger sculptures? One can dream...
Over on PBS, there is the now classic show, California's Gold with Hewell Howser. I have seen him get very excited over : Gravel, old women and their quilts, a rusty tractor, a tree stump, a man painting in Death Valley, hubcaps, a pile of old tires, a pet cemetery, and assorted other very common things. I am not making that up. His catchphrase is "That’s amazing!" One of the funniest moments was where he was in a restaurant that had an old picture of Bing Crosby on the wall. He convinced the manager to call the owner and talked to him over the phone. He excitedly asks, "so when did Bing Crosby visit your restaurant?" Oh, he never did, the owner explains, I bought that at a yard sale. "Oh," replies Hewell, "well, its still a great picture." That segment made the show! As Hewell would say, "That’s Amazing!"
If I had a tapeworm, I would name him Tippy. I am not sure why, it just sounds like a good name for a tapeworm.
If Vegetarians eat Vegetables, what do Humanitarians eat?
The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Peepeye, Pupeye, and Poopeye! Honestly, I am not making that up.
It is against the law to mispronounce the name of the State of Arkansas in that State. Anyone wanna go to Are Kansas with me?
Speaking of laws and road trips, San Francisco has outlawed plastic bags at the grocery store. You can march, cavort or otherwise do just about anything you want to, ENTIRELY NAKED, but you cannot take your groceries home in a plastic bag. Yup, the priorities are right on. So, I am organizing a march in the streets of SF next month, where we put plastic bags all over our bodies and shout “Not just for fags, we want freedom for bags!” Let me know if you would like to attend. Lets get the guy who slaps his belly in song to lead us, and we can call up old Hewell and see if he can film us.
“That’s Amazing!”
My attempt at going to Beijing on the Olympic team is over. They said they do not have an event for solo synchronized swimming. Bummer. I wonder about the Special Olympics?
Do you know what they call a pig who cheats while playing hide-n-go seek? Peking Pork...
I was watching the show, America's got Talent the other night, and its true. Where else could you see a man belly slapping the Star Spangled Banner, or a lady who could burp the theme song from Cheers? I wonder if I could get on the show with my booger sculptures? One can dream...
Over on PBS, there is the now classic show, California's Gold with Hewell Howser. I have seen him get very excited over : Gravel, old women and their quilts, a rusty tractor, a tree stump, a man painting in Death Valley, hubcaps, a pile of old tires, a pet cemetery, and assorted other very common things. I am not making that up. His catchphrase is "That’s amazing!" One of the funniest moments was where he was in a restaurant that had an old picture of Bing Crosby on the wall. He convinced the manager to call the owner and talked to him over the phone. He excitedly asks, "so when did Bing Crosby visit your restaurant?" Oh, he never did, the owner explains, I bought that at a yard sale. "Oh," replies Hewell, "well, its still a great picture." That segment made the show! As Hewell would say, "That’s Amazing!"
If I had a tapeworm, I would name him Tippy. I am not sure why, it just sounds like a good name for a tapeworm.
If Vegetarians eat Vegetables, what do Humanitarians eat?
The names of Popeye's four nephews are Pipeye, Peepeye, Pupeye, and Poopeye! Honestly, I am not making that up.
It is against the law to mispronounce the name of the State of Arkansas in that State. Anyone wanna go to Are Kansas with me?
Speaking of laws and road trips, San Francisco has outlawed plastic bags at the grocery store. You can march, cavort or otherwise do just about anything you want to, ENTIRELY NAKED, but you cannot take your groceries home in a plastic bag. Yup, the priorities are right on. So, I am organizing a march in the streets of SF next month, where we put plastic bags all over our bodies and shout “Not just for fags, we want freedom for bags!” Let me know if you would like to attend. Lets get the guy who slaps his belly in song to lead us, and we can call up old Hewell and see if he can film us.
“That’s Amazing!”
Monday, June 23, 2008
Elmo must die.....
Let me preface my thoughts by saying, I too, once thought Elmo was cute. That fuzzy red fur, the high pitched voice and laugh, the “innocent” personality. But that has changed. Its over for little evil Elmo. Let me explain:
I grew up watching Sesame Street. I loved seeing the whole gang of characters, some human and most talking puppets, but they were very real to me. Actually, they still are. I admit, that I still tune in from time to time just to see how the old gang is doing. Its good to see Oscar still being a grouch in his garbage can with Wormy. Bert and Ernie must be thrilled that Gay marriage is being allowed now. The Bear family and Telly and Zoe. Big Bird and Snuffy, though when I was a child, Big Bird was the only one to ever see Snuffleupagus, while everyone else thought Big Bird was crazy. I hear that drove him to drink, and peck at Bob and the other cast members, so they made Suffy “real”. Cookie Monster always scarfing down, (can you say Bong hit?) the Count doing his thing, and Kermit, never content just being a Muppet, trying to get the spotlight on SS as well. At least Missy Piggy kicked his ass now and again! Then lets talk about my favorite, Grover, that cute fuzzy blue monster, who always had a smile and was kind to everyone. I loved his gravelly voice, and how he shared about different places in the world, he was simply the best.
Then Elmo came along. Like I said, I too was caught up in “Elmopallooza” in the beginning. “Ha ha ha, hey everyone, look how cute I am”, he seemed to say every time I saw him. Then his plan for World Dominance became clear. Slowly, he worked his way into the main spotlight, getting more screen time and more accolades along the way. The other cast members started resenting him, but he was becoming powerful. Kermit confronted him and tried to stop his evil plan, but a few days later found the head of Zoot, the saxophone player in the Muppet band, in his shower stall. Then Elmo began his plan to assimilate all the young minds in America, with the debut of Elmo’s World. His own show within a show, where he was the main focus. Its true, he allowed Mr. Noodle to cavort in the early days, but then Elmo got jealous, and Mr. Noodle died…..The truth is starting to dawn on you isn’t it? Elmo started referring to himself in the third person, “Elmo is hungry” rather than “I am hungry”. Those around him were bullied, as his star power grew. Then came “Tickle me Elmo“, the doll every child in America had to have. Then came Limbo Elmo, Chicken Dance Elmo and Lets Pretend Elmo. Finally, there was Elmo Knows Your Name, where Parents program him to remember their names, and Elmo programs the child for…..
He started showing up on the Rosie O donnell show, the View and Martha Stewart. They had a falling out and where did Martha end up? That’s right, Prison. He had his own DVD, Elmo in Grouchland, much to the chagrin of Oscar. Oscar complained but Elmo drove by Oscar's garbage can on a steamroller, smiling.
Then came the full length movie, Elmo saves Christmas. Always the hero! He also appeared on The West Wing, (with a fake President, but a with a plan to meet the real President) and actually was the first "puppet" ever to testify before Congress. They loved him, and his ego grew even more.
In reality, Elmo wants to become the Anti-Christ, and he is well on the way. In January 2006, controversy surrounded the book "Potty Time With Elmo" when a mother reported that pressing the buttons caused Elmo to say "Who wants to die?" The book's manufacturer said that this was not an isolated claim, and that they'd had many complaints about the book. In reply, Elmo claims he is saying "Who wants to try?" Right…. Also, In February 2008, a Florida woman claims an Elmo Knows Your Name doll threatened to kill her son by name, which prompted many others to come forward as well. Some have disappeared, and some have been put in the Loony Bin, but who is crazy now?
So, its true, Elmo must die, or the world as we know it will cease to exist. Now that I have come forward with the truth, its only a matter of time before an “accident” or ‘sickness’ will occur. That’s OK, as long as the truth is revealed, and I am remembered as someone who spoke up. Mom, if you find my head in your shower stall, you know who did it.
As a sad footnote, Grover is now homeless, living in a dumpster behind K-mart, smoking crack. The Grover you see on Sesame street is a stand in stunt double. They use voice recordings from old shows to make him talk. Some of the other cast members are now dead, but I cannot say which ones. So sad….
Elmo must die……(disclaimer: the above article is purely fiction….or is it?)
I grew up watching Sesame Street. I loved seeing the whole gang of characters, some human and most talking puppets, but they were very real to me. Actually, they still are. I admit, that I still tune in from time to time just to see how the old gang is doing. Its good to see Oscar still being a grouch in his garbage can with Wormy. Bert and Ernie must be thrilled that Gay marriage is being allowed now. The Bear family and Telly and Zoe. Big Bird and Snuffy, though when I was a child, Big Bird was the only one to ever see Snuffleupagus, while everyone else thought Big Bird was crazy. I hear that drove him to drink, and peck at Bob and the other cast members, so they made Suffy “real”. Cookie Monster always scarfing down, (can you say Bong hit?) the Count doing his thing, and Kermit, never content just being a Muppet, trying to get the spotlight on SS as well. At least Missy Piggy kicked his ass now and again! Then lets talk about my favorite, Grover, that cute fuzzy blue monster, who always had a smile and was kind to everyone. I loved his gravelly voice, and how he shared about different places in the world, he was simply the best.
Then Elmo came along. Like I said, I too was caught up in “Elmopallooza” in the beginning. “Ha ha ha, hey everyone, look how cute I am”, he seemed to say every time I saw him. Then his plan for World Dominance became clear. Slowly, he worked his way into the main spotlight, getting more screen time and more accolades along the way. The other cast members started resenting him, but he was becoming powerful. Kermit confronted him and tried to stop his evil plan, but a few days later found the head of Zoot, the saxophone player in the Muppet band, in his shower stall. Then Elmo began his plan to assimilate all the young minds in America, with the debut of Elmo’s World. His own show within a show, where he was the main focus. Its true, he allowed Mr. Noodle to cavort in the early days, but then Elmo got jealous, and Mr. Noodle died…..The truth is starting to dawn on you isn’t it? Elmo started referring to himself in the third person, “Elmo is hungry” rather than “I am hungry”. Those around him were bullied, as his star power grew. Then came “Tickle me Elmo“, the doll every child in America had to have. Then came Limbo Elmo, Chicken Dance Elmo and Lets Pretend Elmo. Finally, there was Elmo Knows Your Name, where Parents program him to remember their names, and Elmo programs the child for…..
He started showing up on the Rosie O donnell show, the View and Martha Stewart. They had a falling out and where did Martha end up? That’s right, Prison. He had his own DVD, Elmo in Grouchland, much to the chagrin of Oscar. Oscar complained but Elmo drove by Oscar's garbage can on a steamroller, smiling.
Then came the full length movie, Elmo saves Christmas. Always the hero! He also appeared on The West Wing, (with a fake President, but a with a plan to meet the real President) and actually was the first "puppet" ever to testify before Congress. They loved him, and his ego grew even more.
In reality, Elmo wants to become the Anti-Christ, and he is well on the way. In January 2006, controversy surrounded the book "Potty Time With Elmo" when a mother reported that pressing the buttons caused Elmo to say "Who wants to die?" The book's manufacturer said that this was not an isolated claim, and that they'd had many complaints about the book. In reply, Elmo claims he is saying "Who wants to try?" Right…. Also, In February 2008, a Florida woman claims an Elmo Knows Your Name doll threatened to kill her son by name, which prompted many others to come forward as well. Some have disappeared, and some have been put in the Loony Bin, but who is crazy now?
So, its true, Elmo must die, or the world as we know it will cease to exist. Now that I have come forward with the truth, its only a matter of time before an “accident” or ‘sickness’ will occur. That’s OK, as long as the truth is revealed, and I am remembered as someone who spoke up. Mom, if you find my head in your shower stall, you know who did it.
As a sad footnote, Grover is now homeless, living in a dumpster behind K-mart, smoking crack. The Grover you see on Sesame street is a stand in stunt double. They use voice recordings from old shows to make him talk. Some of the other cast members are now dead, but I cannot say which ones. So sad….
Elmo must die……(disclaimer: the above article is purely fiction….or is it?)
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Interesting Thoughts......
Ok, let me state right off, some of these are original, some are not. But me thinks they are all pretty funny. Hows about you? Feed back is encouraged. So are donations.....large bills only please.
I can't stand cheap people. It makes me real mad when someone says something like, "Hey, when are you going to pay me that $100 you owe me?" or "Do you have that $50 you borrowed?" Man, quit being so cheap.
I like to pick my nose at a stoplight and show my prize to the next car over. Just once, I wish they would try and outdo me.
I know this guy who is an insomniac and an agnostic and dyslexic. I bet he stays up all night wondering if there really is a dog.
Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did."
If we could just get everyone to close their eyes and visualize world peace for an hour, imagine how serene the world would be before the looting started.
My Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why 2 of my brothers died of tuberculosis.
Once, I wept, for I had no shoes. Then I came across a man who had no feet. So I took his shoes. I mean, its not like he really needed them, right?
One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said. "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
For centuries, people thought the moon was made of green cheese. Then the astronauts found out the moon is a big hard rock. That's what happens to cheese when you leave it out.
Often, when I am reading a good book, I stop and thank my teacher. That is, I used to, until she got an unlisted number.
Home is where the house is. Unless you live in a dumpster.
Democracy is a beautiful thing, except that part about letting just any old jackass vote.
Whenever I start getting sad about where I am in life, I think about the last words of my favorite Uncle. "a truck."
I believe you should live each day as if it were your last, which is why I don't have any clean laundry, because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life?
I like to go down to the dog pound and pretend that I've found my dog. Then I tell them to kill it anyway because I already gave away all its stuff. Dog people sure don't have a sense of humor.
When I go to heaven, I want to see my Grandpa again. But he better have lost the nose hair and the old man smell.
My young nephew asked me what happens after we die. I told him we get buried under a bunch of dirt and worms eat our bodies. I guess I should have told him the truth-that most of us go to hell and burn eternally-but I didn't want to upset him.
I was going to invent instant water, but I didn't know what to add to it.
Why are they called apartments if they are all stuck togethor?
I tattoed a skull on my tongue just to see the look on my dentists face.
I believe in traditional marriage and monogomy and am against bestiality. Man I hope I never never become a widowed sheep herder.
If I were an ant, I'd leave a scent trail to a big ol dog turd, just to see the look on the other ants faces.
I wish I would have a real tragic love affair and get so bummed out that I'd just quit my job and become a hobo for a few years or so, because I was thinking about doing that anyway.
I can't stand cheap people. It makes me real mad when someone says something like, "Hey, when are you going to pay me that $100 you owe me?" or "Do you have that $50 you borrowed?" Man, quit being so cheap.
I like to pick my nose at a stoplight and show my prize to the next car over. Just once, I wish they would try and outdo me.
I know this guy who is an insomniac and an agnostic and dyslexic. I bet he stays up all night wondering if there really is a dog.
Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny.
If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did."
If we could just get everyone to close their eyes and visualize world peace for an hour, imagine how serene the world would be before the looting started.
My Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why 2 of my brothers died of tuberculosis.
Once, I wept, for I had no shoes. Then I came across a man who had no feet. So I took his shoes. I mean, its not like he really needed them, right?
One thing kids like is to be tricked. For instance, I was going to take my little nephew to Disneyland, but instead I drove him to an old burned-out warehouse. "Oh, no," I said. "Disneyland burned down." He cried and cried, but I think that deep down, he thought it was a pretty good joke. I started to drive over to the real Disneyland, but it was getting pretty late.
For centuries, people thought the moon was made of green cheese. Then the astronauts found out the moon is a big hard rock. That's what happens to cheese when you leave it out.
Often, when I am reading a good book, I stop and thank my teacher. That is, I used to, until she got an unlisted number.
Home is where the house is. Unless you live in a dumpster.
Democracy is a beautiful thing, except that part about letting just any old jackass vote.
Whenever I start getting sad about where I am in life, I think about the last words of my favorite Uncle. "a truck."
I believe you should live each day as if it were your last, which is why I don't have any clean laundry, because, come on, who wants to wash clothes on the last day of their life?
I like to go down to the dog pound and pretend that I've found my dog. Then I tell them to kill it anyway because I already gave away all its stuff. Dog people sure don't have a sense of humor.
When I go to heaven, I want to see my Grandpa again. But he better have lost the nose hair and the old man smell.
My young nephew asked me what happens after we die. I told him we get buried under a bunch of dirt and worms eat our bodies. I guess I should have told him the truth-that most of us go to hell and burn eternally-but I didn't want to upset him.
I was going to invent instant water, but I didn't know what to add to it.
Why are they called apartments if they are all stuck togethor?
I tattoed a skull on my tongue just to see the look on my dentists face.
I believe in traditional marriage and monogomy and am against bestiality. Man I hope I never never become a widowed sheep herder.
If I were an ant, I'd leave a scent trail to a big ol dog turd, just to see the look on the other ants faces.
I wish I would have a real tragic love affair and get so bummed out that I'd just quit my job and become a hobo for a few years or so, because I was thinking about doing that anyway.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Never Ending Cinnamon Bun
An original poem, by RB~
Never Ending Cinnamon bun
What if I had, the best thing yet, a never ending cinnamon bun?
That swirled around in circles forever, with never ending fun.
Sweet and sticky, it looks so good, my lips smack with delight.
I bring it near and I open up wide, and then I take the first bite.
My teeth sink in deep and bite off a hunk, of the lovely scrumptious dough.
I want to savor the delicious flavor, so I chew it up good and slow.
I cannot believe the wonderful luck, and the good fortune I have found.
I want to eat the whole thing by myself, so I dare not make a sound.
Bite after luscious bite, I'm enjoying the wonderfully yummy taste.
Letting crumbs fall all around me, I am not worried about any waste.
I can eat forever and ever, so I know for sure, that I won't reach the core.
And the thought is so good and makes me happy, that I gobble up even more.
There is no stopping me, I'm very excited so I charge on ahead like a bull.
But what's that now? In the core of my gut, I start to feel full?
Innoring my tummy, I decide on the spot, I must press on ahead.
It's not in charge, nor is it my boss, I reason with my head.
Gulping down more, I think I'm in trouble, as the room seems to be spinning.
My brain may be the one in charge, but my stomach sure feels like its winning.
Slowing down now, I realize with sorrow, that I do not feel so good.
Nauseas and sick, with my stomach bulging, I'd stop eating if I could.
But I'm hooked so good, I cannot move, like a fish that's taken the bait.
I notice as I look at myself in the mirror, that I've started putting on weight.
Bigger I grow, I eat more and more, and cannot find the will to stop.
My legs won't hold me, its too much weight, so on my side I flop.
Big as an elephant, I lay there limp, and know that I'm really caught.
But if I'm going to survive, and get back to normal, I must end this thought.
Of the cinnamon bun, great as it was, and as warm and good as it tasted.
If I don't stop now, thinking of it, I will surely forever be wasted.
So out of my mind, leaving the thought, away goes the great sticky bun.
And I shrink back to normal, slimming down fast, the battle seems to be won.
I sit back in my chair and let out a sigh, and then I look at my gut.
And wonder out loud, and say with a chuckle, "How bout a giant donut?"
Never Ending Cinnamon bun
What if I had, the best thing yet, a never ending cinnamon bun?
That swirled around in circles forever, with never ending fun.
Sweet and sticky, it looks so good, my lips smack with delight.
I bring it near and I open up wide, and then I take the first bite.
My teeth sink in deep and bite off a hunk, of the lovely scrumptious dough.
I want to savor the delicious flavor, so I chew it up good and slow.
I cannot believe the wonderful luck, and the good fortune I have found.
I want to eat the whole thing by myself, so I dare not make a sound.
Bite after luscious bite, I'm enjoying the wonderfully yummy taste.
Letting crumbs fall all around me, I am not worried about any waste.
I can eat forever and ever, so I know for sure, that I won't reach the core.
And the thought is so good and makes me happy, that I gobble up even more.
There is no stopping me, I'm very excited so I charge on ahead like a bull.
But what's that now? In the core of my gut, I start to feel full?
Innoring my tummy, I decide on the spot, I must press on ahead.
It's not in charge, nor is it my boss, I reason with my head.
Gulping down more, I think I'm in trouble, as the room seems to be spinning.
My brain may be the one in charge, but my stomach sure feels like its winning.
Slowing down now, I realize with sorrow, that I do not feel so good.
Nauseas and sick, with my stomach bulging, I'd stop eating if I could.
But I'm hooked so good, I cannot move, like a fish that's taken the bait.
I notice as I look at myself in the mirror, that I've started putting on weight.
Bigger I grow, I eat more and more, and cannot find the will to stop.
My legs won't hold me, its too much weight, so on my side I flop.
Big as an elephant, I lay there limp, and know that I'm really caught.
But if I'm going to survive, and get back to normal, I must end this thought.
Of the cinnamon bun, great as it was, and as warm and good as it tasted.
If I don't stop now, thinking of it, I will surely forever be wasted.
So out of my mind, leaving the thought, away goes the great sticky bun.
And I shrink back to normal, slimming down fast, the battle seems to be won.
I sit back in my chair and let out a sigh, and then I look at my gut.
And wonder out loud, and say with a chuckle, "How bout a giant donut?"
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The Election...My solution!
This is an Election year, that special time where we all get to choose what politician we think will be the least corrupt, and watch at least 9000 TV commercials where we hear them tell how corrupt their opponent is. What fun.
OK, I admit, I voted for our current President, and can still say I would do it again, even knowing what has taken place since then. Am I proud of my choice? Well, its a little like picking a huge booger, as I marvel at it myself, but don't really want anyone else to see it. I know you can relate, if you are honest. So maybe you don't inspect your nose nuggets, but you do pass gas. When no one is around, and you rip a big one, and it REALLY smells bad, you are kind of proud, arent you? Not so proud you call up your minister or your Mother, but secretly you cannot believe you have created something that smells like a dying hyena that rolled in vulture vomit.
Back to my original point, the current administration is not the best ever, but was the lesser of two evils. I think its the same this year, as the younger, hipper, minority candidate (who incedentally smokes ciggarettes)talks of change, without defining what that really means. The older, crustier, more experienced candidate (who we think may wear depends,) talks of more of the same, which has kept this country safe since 9/11, but also has seen the economy dip and the price of gas rise like a doughnut at a weight watchers meeting.
So, who to vote for? Me!
Ya, that's the ticket, as I am announcing my candidacy today, for President of the Untied Skates of America. Let me outline my vision for this great Nation.
First off, what I say, goes. None of this lets see how the House or Senate votes, I will be large and in charge. Move over Oprah.
Secondly, my plan for the current fuel crisis. Now most of you do not realize, but the largest single Country who we import Oil from, is Canada. Yes, that's right, the same country who recycles ham and calls it Canadian Bacon. Give us a break, you are not fooling anyone, eh? Also, lots of Maple syrup, which I love, and Hockey, which I hate. Oh, and they have one of the greatest rock Bands ever, Rush. (insert La Villa Strangiato here) Other than that, Canada serves no useful purpose other than Oil. So, I propose we make it the 51'st state of the USA. Oh, it won't take much, maybe 10 or so of those armored Recreation Vehicles like they had in the movie Stripes, driving up over the border. They shouldn't put up too much of a fight, other than a few hockey sticks. In the end, Americans will be paying less than 2 bucks a gallon again, and I will be the hero.
Here are a few more highlights of my plan. We only tax dumb people. Think about it, they are not smart enough to know the difference anyway. Also, no more Golf. I don't like Golf. All those golf courses across the land taking up valuble space. Those will now be turned into work, uh I mean "productivity" camps for the Canadians, (and maybe the House and Senate folks too) so we do not have to trade with China anymore. We have our own cheap labor now, to make our own cheap crap. I know, its brilliant. Thank you.
I realize there may be those that oppose my ideas, and let me assure you this: There is room in the new golf course "productivity" camps for you to labor along side of the Canadians. I promise to feed you all the Canaidian bacon and maple syrup you want, as well as cheap Canadian beer. *burp...
Also, I will need to fill a few new Cabinet positions: Head foot rub'er, Garlic munchie creator, Bikini babe presidential cheerleaders, and trout fishing coordinator. I know, more brilliance. Hold your applause.
Now before you go turning me in to Homeland security or The Mayberry Police, let me say that this blog was done with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Everything but the head foot rub'er that is. If you know someone who may qualify, let me know.
And how about full contact Golf with Bikini Babes handing out Garlic Treats? Ya, that's the ticket!
OK, I admit, I voted for our current President, and can still say I would do it again, even knowing what has taken place since then. Am I proud of my choice? Well, its a little like picking a huge booger, as I marvel at it myself, but don't really want anyone else to see it. I know you can relate, if you are honest. So maybe you don't inspect your nose nuggets, but you do pass gas. When no one is around, and you rip a big one, and it REALLY smells bad, you are kind of proud, arent you? Not so proud you call up your minister or your Mother, but secretly you cannot believe you have created something that smells like a dying hyena that rolled in vulture vomit.
Back to my original point, the current administration is not the best ever, but was the lesser of two evils. I think its the same this year, as the younger, hipper, minority candidate (who incedentally smokes ciggarettes)talks of change, without defining what that really means. The older, crustier, more experienced candidate (who we think may wear depends,) talks of more of the same, which has kept this country safe since 9/11, but also has seen the economy dip and the price of gas rise like a doughnut at a weight watchers meeting.
So, who to vote for? Me!
Ya, that's the ticket, as I am announcing my candidacy today, for President of the Untied Skates of America. Let me outline my vision for this great Nation.
First off, what I say, goes. None of this lets see how the House or Senate votes, I will be large and in charge. Move over Oprah.
Secondly, my plan for the current fuel crisis. Now most of you do not realize, but the largest single Country who we import Oil from, is Canada. Yes, that's right, the same country who recycles ham and calls it Canadian Bacon. Give us a break, you are not fooling anyone, eh? Also, lots of Maple syrup, which I love, and Hockey, which I hate. Oh, and they have one of the greatest rock Bands ever, Rush. (insert La Villa Strangiato here) Other than that, Canada serves no useful purpose other than Oil. So, I propose we make it the 51'st state of the USA. Oh, it won't take much, maybe 10 or so of those armored Recreation Vehicles like they had in the movie Stripes, driving up over the border. They shouldn't put up too much of a fight, other than a few hockey sticks. In the end, Americans will be paying less than 2 bucks a gallon again, and I will be the hero.
Here are a few more highlights of my plan. We only tax dumb people. Think about it, they are not smart enough to know the difference anyway. Also, no more Golf. I don't like Golf. All those golf courses across the land taking up valuble space. Those will now be turned into work, uh I mean "productivity" camps for the Canadians, (and maybe the House and Senate folks too) so we do not have to trade with China anymore. We have our own cheap labor now, to make our own cheap crap. I know, its brilliant. Thank you.
I realize there may be those that oppose my ideas, and let me assure you this: There is room in the new golf course "productivity" camps for you to labor along side of the Canadians. I promise to feed you all the Canaidian bacon and maple syrup you want, as well as cheap Canadian beer. *burp...
Also, I will need to fill a few new Cabinet positions: Head foot rub'er, Garlic munchie creator, Bikini babe presidential cheerleaders, and trout fishing coordinator. I know, more brilliance. Hold your applause.
Now before you go turning me in to Homeland security or The Mayberry Police, let me say that this blog was done with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Everything but the head foot rub'er that is. If you know someone who may qualify, let me know.
And how about full contact Golf with Bikini Babes handing out Garlic Treats? Ya, that's the ticket!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
My Appendix 1967-2008 RIP
Yes, that’s right, the little guy bit the dust on Tuesday, June 3. I guess I will miss him/her/it. I guess it should have a name, so from here on I will refer to it as Mr. Squiggles. That seems appropriate. I realize that I have not given Mr. Squiggles much thought before, but now that he is gone, I kind of miss him. Thinking that he may be in a jar of solution or worse yet, has been flushed down the toilet, makes me a bit verbose. Actually, if it is the latter, he is heading towards the cesspool in the sewer now, to swim with all the other appendixes. Go Mr. Squiggles Go!
Anyway, back to the facts. On Monday night around 9PM, I started to get what seemed like an upset tummy. Not so severe that I would barf up sour worms in the back of my brother in law’s new car upset tummy, just a regular one. ( a blog for another time I suppose…) It got worse, and I tried going to bed around 1AM. I could not get comfortable and the pain increased. I tried the couch but had no better luck there, as it was really hurting a lot. Around 4AM, I turned on the computer and Yahooed (I don’t have to Google if I don’t want to!) for symptoms of intestinal blockage. Somehow, I thought my appendix was below my armpit, so I did not think of looking it up. Finally, I called the Kaiser advice Nurse, and after she asked me 3471 questions, some of which had nothing to do with medicine in any way, she told me to come to Emergency ASAP as it was probably my appendix. So, like any Macho guy would do, I drove myself over to the hospital, stopping off for a tattoo on the way. Figuring that my appendix may be getting surgically removed, I had I love (heart) Kaiser placed on my stomach like the gang members do. Ok, not really, but needless to say, my appendix was going.
Now get this: when I asked the Dr. what the appendix does for us, he said no one is really sure, but said something about as we evolved it was like a chicken gizzard or something. I AM NOT MAKING THAT UP! Wow, in an age where a space modular just landed on Mars, where we can engrave the entire bible on a pin head, where medically we are so advanced that we can replace most internal organs or give people different genital organs…..but its “something like a chicken gizzard?” He went on to say that it is about 3-4 inches long, and looks kind of like a worm. Aw, how cute. Hence the name, Mr. Squiggles.
I actually asked him if I could take it home to use as fishing bait, but he said no. Oh well, my gallbladder didn’t catch anything either.
I am thinking of having a memorial service for the little guy, where folks can make up nice things to say, and then we can release lots of long squiggly balloons in the sky, with prayers for Mr. Squiggles attached. My prayer is that he finds a nice lady appendix to settle down with. Or better yet, that he is reincarnated as a proctologists finger. That way he can be a pain in someone else’s ass!
Go Mr. Squiggles Go!
Anyway, back to the facts. On Monday night around 9PM, I started to get what seemed like an upset tummy. Not so severe that I would barf up sour worms in the back of my brother in law’s new car upset tummy, just a regular one. ( a blog for another time I suppose…) It got worse, and I tried going to bed around 1AM. I could not get comfortable and the pain increased. I tried the couch but had no better luck there, as it was really hurting a lot. Around 4AM, I turned on the computer and Yahooed (I don’t have to Google if I don’t want to!) for symptoms of intestinal blockage. Somehow, I thought my appendix was below my armpit, so I did not think of looking it up. Finally, I called the Kaiser advice Nurse, and after she asked me 3471 questions, some of which had nothing to do with medicine in any way, she told me to come to Emergency ASAP as it was probably my appendix. So, like any Macho guy would do, I drove myself over to the hospital, stopping off for a tattoo on the way. Figuring that my appendix may be getting surgically removed, I had I love (heart) Kaiser placed on my stomach like the gang members do. Ok, not really, but needless to say, my appendix was going.
Now get this: when I asked the Dr. what the appendix does for us, he said no one is really sure, but said something about as we evolved it was like a chicken gizzard or something. I AM NOT MAKING THAT UP! Wow, in an age where a space modular just landed on Mars, where we can engrave the entire bible on a pin head, where medically we are so advanced that we can replace most internal organs or give people different genital organs…..but its “something like a chicken gizzard?” He went on to say that it is about 3-4 inches long, and looks kind of like a worm. Aw, how cute. Hence the name, Mr. Squiggles.
I actually asked him if I could take it home to use as fishing bait, but he said no. Oh well, my gallbladder didn’t catch anything either.
I am thinking of having a memorial service for the little guy, where folks can make up nice things to say, and then we can release lots of long squiggly balloons in the sky, with prayers for Mr. Squiggles attached. My prayer is that he finds a nice lady appendix to settle down with. Or better yet, that he is reincarnated as a proctologists finger. That way he can be a pain in someone else’s ass!
Go Mr. Squiggles Go!
Monday, April 7, 2008
Where does the time go?
Geez. Is it really 2008? I could have sworn I laid down to take a nap, (that dream about the monkey in a clown costume throwing chimichanga's at Hillary....forget about it) and the next thing I know, its April of 2008. It was last month when I wrote the previous blog....I can prove it. The Colts won the Super Bowl! Peyton Manning is MVP. Too bad his little brother on the Giants, Eli, is such a sissy boy. He will never amount to anything. I bet he never even makes the playoffs. Loser. Anyway, where was I? Oh Yea, time seems to move faster every year I am alive. It seems Christmas is over, and I go poop, and by the time I am done wiping, Halloween is here already. Hey, that turd looks like a pumpkin, how cute. I am not alone in my awareness of this. Almost everyone I talk to agree's with me. When you are little, it seems like FOREVER til your birthday comes around. I remember when I turned 10, and realized I was a whole decade. Man, they should make a statue of me and put it in the Whitehouse, I mean, this was big time stuff. Then the years mildly rolled forward, and I turned 18! I could finally vote, and had to register for the draft! I was very disapointed to learn it was not the NFL draft, but that it meant I was old enough to fight (and die!) in a war. Anyway, skip forward 12 years, when I turned 30. This birthday really hit me hard, as I was a daddy to 3 precious girls. All were in diapers, so when the years flew by it saved alot of vomiting....but now 10 years later and my twins will be 13! Holy Tazer Gun. Yes, I have solved the dating dilema. First, no dating til they are 34. Second, Stun Guns do not kill, only maim the teen boys who stalk your daughters. Yipee! Thats good cause I dont want to kill them, as I am too old to go to prison. At least when I was younger I could run away from a fight. Now, with 2 rebuilt knee's and a few pounds heavier,(I just ducked, to avoid lightning strike from Jesus) Ok, 35 pounds heavier, I aint runnin from nobody. I stll have washboard abs, under a very thick layer of marshmallow padding. Back to my original point, by the time I finish writing this I will probably be in the Rest home, and my daughters will be 34, and I will be drafted by the 49ers to literally zap the crap out of thier
prospective boyfriends with my Stun Gun. Hey, that turd looks like a pumpkin........until next millenium, ta ta for now!
prospective boyfriends with my Stun Gun. Hey, that turd looks like a pumpkin........until next millenium, ta ta for now!
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