As Columbo used to say in every episode: "Just one more thing". I deliberately prepared a "mostly-funny" column to contrast with Max's very serious one on Israel yesterday. But, I would take it as a big personal favor if all readers here would look at yesterday's Max column and especially to watch the YouTube videos. Just to see what the Israelis are doing to rid the entire WORLD of terrorism, hopefully, for a long time. Am Yisrael Chai! And thank you. AG
I read all through this particular comment chain which lauds "short" comments. I find the fixation on short, concise, even terse (Ol' Mel) comments to be troubling, even cult-like.
I mean, everyone remembers the 2 hour speech that Edward Everett gave at Gettysburg before Abraham Lincoln spoke for three whole minutes. And, whose speech is remembered after almost 163 years?
Yep, give me that old fashioned stemwinder every time.
According to my AI "miffed" means annoyed. Deb, I'm hurt to my core that you would see me as either annoyed or annoying (though my bride suggests that I can be the latter. But, she went to Texas A&M, so......
Tis true, Bryan. And they also have to be logical. A comic has to lead the audience from Point A, the "premise" to Point C, the "punchline" and to get the "joke" there has to be a logic to the journey. And, hopefully, a surprise as well. AG
Reminds me of a story I heard about Calvin "Silent Cal" Coolidge:
At a dinner party the woman sitting next to Cal told him that she had bet a friend that she could get more than two words out of him. His response: "you lose".
Oh, my, so much wrong here. So why am I laughing so hard?
As a teenager I liked to cook and I liked cats. This worried my father, who began to think I was homosexual. Finally I said to him "I wish! It would be nice to want to have sex with someone who'd give a simple straight answer to the question." The subject never came up again.
Most importantly, there are strong independent women who are quite enjoyably heterosexual. I have found strong independent women to be better at everything - especially better intimately. I am married to one, and just had this conversation this morning:
Friend: "[Mrs. Blackwater] shouldn't be doing that. You should tell her to stop."
Me: "You want her to do it more?"
But yes, she is a woman and never uses two words when a thousand would do. She is usually quiet, but ask her to explain anything and you will learn ALL about it. I don't mind, she takes that skill to work and is great at quality control. No detail gets past her.
When it has to be done fast and effectively, I do it. When it has to be done with attention to detail, she does it. It was 42 years ago, almost to the day, that we concluded our first argument with her moving in to my shack. It's worked out OK since.
Now if I could just get her to hunt deer with a rifle instead of a Chevrolet.
I bagged a nice six-point buck some few years ago, but Montana insists that you have a hunting license rather than a driver's license if you want to keep it. $3k worth of venison we never ate.
My baby brother -- the one with the triple bypass all the dear commenters prayed for and is doing great! -- hit a deer with his Chevette many years ago and DID get a friend with a pickup to get it and take it to a meat locker. He did not lose out on $3k worth of venison! AG
I had a van with a non-working speedometer and I always knew that when it started shaking, I was going sixty miles-an-hour. I also could see the highway through the hole in the floor.
Now I sleep in that van, parked down by the river, the fate of many a failed inspirational speaker.
"Finally I said to him 'I wish! It would be nice to want to have sex with someone who'd give a simple straight answer to the question.'"
(Tugging at tie, Dangerfield-like)
"Johnny...I'm a now a bisexual...I mean, now I've doubled my chances of scoring..."
"I get no respect...do you know those new robots, the ones you can have sex with? They're realistic, ooh, they're realistic. I asked mine 'Baby, what's say you and I get together later' and the robot said 'I have a headache.'"
A co-worker had been in the Air Force. His unit had been tasked with supporting a month long exercise in a North Carolina base. He and a couple buddies were the onsite tech support for the Army units rotating through each week training with AF ground support pilots. (too much detail yet?) On weekends they were left in their tent, but did have a jeep to get to the base (and town) for supplies.
Every return trip they 'accidentally' hit a deer on the way back. Each trip back was on a different path, but somehow a little red deer would always find them. They ate well the last three weeks, and had lots of trade goods to exchange with the army grunts as they rotated through.
Alas, I must go walk my 2 miles early before it is 100 degrees here. Please carry on. I will read EVERY SINGLE COMMENT when I return. You all are in rare form today. Back soon! AG
I have been at yet another Doctor’s appointment- the third this week. The good news is that all is well, and I am recovering for my three week “vacation”.
One of Susan’s best columns today, but I have nothing to add
He's here somewhere, I got an upvote from him. If I could change one thing here - besides cute cat memes - I would let you see everyone who upvoted you.
Not sure if it's still true, but in CA all cats were classed as feral. If your cat got into your neighbor's chickens, your neighbor couldn't sue. On the other hand, if your neighbor saw your cat off your property and shot it, you couldn't sue.
Just to counter with "sales" stories from the other side of the counter; I once framed pictures and sold pre-framed prints. We generally framed the prints; but some were purchased from wholesalers. (I know - get on with the story) One of the best sellers was a print of the Last Supper. I gave it a prominent position at the front of the store where it could be seen through the window - but not too close because the sun would bleach it in a matter of months.
We got more comments on that framed print than any other. People would generally stop and look it over. Interested or not they would almost always say: "Is that the Last Supper"? To which I would always reply: " At that price! No, no, no this is the Wednesday night dinner. But no one will know! I keep the real copy in the back". I always made the sale. I never questioned whether the sale came from the joke or if some people actually believed the Wednesday night story. I sold a ton of those pictures.
Timothy, I do not recall seeing your name in the comments before. (However, I am now at the age where I could say in a Senate Hearing, "I do not recall" and not be lying.) This is very funny! Father Guido Sarducci, a comic from about half a century ago, had a very funny bit about "The Last Brunch" and the disciples arguing about splitting up the check.
Done. Just joined. Although I was confused when it looked like I joined Hayward and Not you. I think I understand now. I worked in tech for 40 years. But you'd never guess it.
Want to see a great film, a serious film? Watch the "Agony and the Ecstasy" with Charleton Heston and Professor Higgins (playing the Pope).
Spoiler alert: Heston spills paint on the tile floor of the Sistine Chapel and is forced to send his crew to Home Depot to buy replacement tiles...then he resigns in a huff.
“It′s a jungle out there. Violence and danger everywhere.
It's brother against brother,
pounding on each other like they were millionaires.
It′s a jungle out there. Even the cops are scared today.
So if you see a uniform, do exactly what they say,
or make a run for it…‘cause it’s a jungle out there.
I could be wrong now…but I don’t think so.”
And Ammo is never wrong. But there are times I wonder…
“Sure, I SAID there would not be another cat column for awhile, and I am a woman of my word. It goes without saying that there is no truth to the vicious sexist rumor that women change their minds overmuch. The reference to cats will be merely tangential. And there will be no pictures.”
There’s no truth to the sexist rumor that men respond visually and like pictures. And speaking of pictures, I so miss seeing in the comments section lovely pictures of cute kittens, pictures of cat fights and especially memes like the one that got me through more than twenty years in the corporate world, it was taped to the side of my cube, a cute kitty holding onto a clothesline with her forepaws, the caption “Just Hanging in There.” Great memes never die, they just fade away.
By the by, Chuck Norris…bye, bye. Rest in Peace. You will be missed.
“She was talking about men paying for sex and said SHE would pay a guy just to sit and listen to her anecdotes and the only thing he would be allowed to say was: ‘And THEN what happened?’”
And then what happened? The man said “I’ll give you back the money I was paid if you will shut up and have sex with me.” (Sorry…R-rated. Like Michelle Obama, I always try to take the high road but I sometimes fail.) And speaking of the high road:
“Last Friday, we enjoyed a lively discussion of the wisdom of letting naked men flop about in real-women spaces. Much hilarity and common sense ensued. Not even to mention a new comment record!” Ammo? Give the Commentariat what they demand…more articles about naughty bits flopping about.
As always, the highlight of this or any other week, the post of a gal who could never be wrong…I’ve heard many say so including the Hmong, reformed members of the Viet Cong, Chinese patriots living in Hong Kong…heck, I even read a reference to Ammo in the Little Red Book of Mao Zedong! Now I do not mean to demean or be mean, or even create a commie meme…sometimes that’s just how the rhyming cookie crumbles. But what is the good fortune contained within? We are able to give thanks, once again, for another gem from our beloved Mrs. Ammo Grrrll.
Naughty bits are not naughty unless you make them so by doing something like swinging them in a place that is supposed to be a safe space for women.
Feminists have explained to me how some cad patting her caboose is "the functional equivalent of rape." Yet what happened on October 7 doesn't count, because genocide or something. A rape victim traumatized by a swinging member in the locker room just needs to get over herself because of intersectionality or something.
Of course feminists can't be funny. They can't even see that their entire belief system is a cruel joke. Besides that, polemics don't have punch lines.
Yes! Jimmy Kimmel actually sneered at "plumbers heading DHS", referring to Markwayne Mullen. who started out as a plumber and earned his way to public service.
Kimmel - what a moron!
Brings up " bitter clingers" from Obama, and and " baskets of deplorables" from Hillary.
I truly, truly hope that our all-American tech graduates see through this elitism that utterly personifies the Left in America.
In 1966 in Chicago, somebody paid for a poster campaign on the El to encourage yutes to stay in school. There was a poster of a group of sad, sullen guys pitching pennies in the street. The copy was "I dropped out of school," and some wag had written under it "And now I are a millionaire."
If our son were a teenager instead of a middle-aged man, I would definitely encourage him to go into the trades -- plumbing, carpentry, tool and die -- anything but suffer through a commie indoctrination called college. AG
I heard on the local radio here that graduates of welding and electrician trade schools in South Carolina now earn more than recent college graduates. Whether this has to do with our skyrocketing growth from failed leftist state refugees or is national I do not know.
I do know that a society so used to calling someone to help them that it no longer equips new cars with spare tires has some kind of sickness. Dammit, we're Americans. We're supposed to take care of ourselves.
I do know I pray every night that our new residents are refugees and not missionaries.
Here in Alexandria MN we do have a very good tech school with plenty of opportunities. You name it, we do it.
If I had it to do again, I might very well go into a trade. In my 30's, I hooked up with a really intelligent man who worked with his hands, in a university department where he created made-to-order scientific tools and machines that scientists needed.
Does anyone do that anymore? Universities are stuck into regulations that stifle creativity in so many ways, ie, we are hampered, not by our imaginations, but by the ability of our tool users to develop machines that can do what we need to do when our scientific imaginations need technitions to help us do what our scientific dreams imagine.
Obviously a man who had to drop out of college when his Dad got sick, took over his business, and grew it into a company with over 150 full time employees, doesn't know nearly as much as some nepo baby with a Harvard degree and no student debt.
Good one. Maybe use the old game of putting him over a barrel of water, and letting contestants throw baseballs at a target that when hit, dumps him in the water. All the time, he has a microphone and is polemicizing to beat the band.
Good morning Ammo dear! Your discount math reminded me of one of my sales tactics back when I worked for Kohls for a while. If someone was considering a comforter and sheet set purchase, but thought it expensive, I'd do the math and point out that since they would be using it all the time, it would only cost this little per day. Didn't always get the sale, but usually got a chuckle from them.
Talk about a strong, independent woman and yet the kind of doting grandmother who MOVES to Wisconsin (of all places! I kid) to be with them. Ms. Kayak has hiked ALONE in Death Valley for Pete's sake. And many other places as well. She is also a Lt. Col (Ret.) in the Air Force. She is one of my Lady Heroes! AG
But I already spend less than a pack a day, I don't smoke. Why lose all my savings on big heavy books?
Besides, my dad had two sets and both grandparents did too. New Encyclopeadia bury or omit all the good stuff. Like the industrial synthesis of sulfuric acid or the steps for lab scale production of nitroglycerine.
Mix nitric and sulfuric acids, chill to near freezing (40F) in a tall (3'+) fat (2" +) clear cylinder, pack ice around the cylinder on three sides. Using an eye dropper, drop a single drop of glycerine into the top of the cylinder and watch it drift down. Wait one minute after it reaches bottom, then add another drop. Repeat. The glycerine should take on a slight yellow hue fro m the reaction. When done, decant off the acid mix. Rinse the product with DI, then with sodium carbonate solution, then with DI, repeat three times. Let sit in a cool dry place after decanting the last rinse and wait for the water to evaporate.
Now chill it to below 40F again, gently mix with ten times its volume of water, and pour it in to a large body of water to dispose of it. Way too dangerous to try and use.
My wife and I have stepped up to linen sheets only, and they are wonderful. And magical too, because they seem to keep you both cool when it's hot and warm when it's cold.
As you can imagine, with the EARLY bleeping heat wave we are experiencing here, I finally took the flannel sheets off the bed! I will have to investigate linen. I bet they are a [witch] to iron? AG
Ah, there is nothing quite so luxurious as a freshly ironed pillowcase on which to lay one's head. Scoff if you want. That's how my Mama did it and that's how I do it! She also starched and ironed 14 white dress shirts a WEEK for Daddy. He came home from the drugstore for lunch at noon and changed into a fresh shirt! AG
Interesting, Deb. My spouse claims not to understand the physics of a vacuum cleaner. When I tried to explain the technology, she then claimed that these machines were designed for use only by humans who carried the Y chromosome and secreted vast quantities of testosterone.
So, in my house, it's the sign of a manly man to daily suck up the volumes of Husky hair that our roommates, Bear and Pepper, shed.
BTW, I haven't seen an iron in decades, and last thing we'd use it for would be bed sheets.
I can't imagine what a modern iron would be like. It would need all the warning labels - "Caution, do not use on facial wrinkles" "Do not use to crown your husband king of the jackasses" etc. It would need warning lights to indicate when the bottom is hot, and an alarm to beep every time you moved it backwards. Might even have enough PIA safety features to make our hostess quit ironing sheets.
My grandmothers' irons still work fine. Put them on the stove or in the oven, fire it up, and once the iron is hot, commence. When an iron gets cool, put it back in to heat and grab a hot one. Just as dangerous as ever.
You and your wife have sheets? Luxury. We have to string together a lot of "free" napkins we steal from the local convenience store hot-dog garnish table to cover the "roof" of our home, a pothole in the middle of the road.
That is very very funny, Mark. Joe can find the coffee cups and the drinking glasses in the kitchen in the house where we have lived for 16 years. Beyond that, he considers it a scary place best visited by me. AG
Rose Ann Barr did stand up before she did sitcoms. I remember one of her best lines. With apologies to Ms. Barr, and all who read this comment, it goes:
My husband constantly asks me to find stuff. "Honey, where's the car keys? Honey, where's dog's leash? Honey, where's my screw driver? It drives me crazy. He must think my uterus is a homing device!"
That was many years ago when we were watching Rose Ann Bar tell that particular joke and it was like a light suddenly went on in his mind and from then on, to this day, TonyP repeatedly asks me if my uterus is working. I think the truth is that women walk into a room and instinctively, consciously or not, their brain registers where everything is and notes if something is out of place, categorizing that information for later use, when, inevitably, she is asked, "honey do you know where my . . . is?"
Like - NO! Women of substance have far more to do with their lives.... we do know where everything is but why should we waste our precious moments playing stupid games - unless we end up with males who can't keep track of stuff? Oh, OK, we tell you where they are.
Do you know how much precious female intellectual genius gets wasted telling guys where stuff is? And you laugh about how so many discoveries are made by men? Wonder why? Sheesh.
Do you know my husband?? he asks the same questions and gets almost the same responses. Except our scissors are on top the 7-ft-tall fridge where I can't see them; he's over 6 feet tall so sometimes I have to ask HIM where the scissors are...LOL!
I confess to being a bit of a martinet about where the scissors are in my house. There is a Place to which they should always be returned. Ditto with scotch tape, pens, rulers, stamps, etc.
I get that a lot — these days I am pretty mild. But that is due to years of taming a rather hot temper. I wouldn’t even let anyone else, not even my major professor, into my lab because they might move things.
My husband’s sister is a very dear person but never says in five words what she can say in 15! The last time we visited, her loving husband used a pretty funny quip to move one of her stories along -
“Patsy, does this thing have a caboose?”
Susan, we are So on the same page about men! I’m pretty independent with a lot of common sense and love having a very strong, smart husband by my side. Lucky me! (P.S. - I can also parallel park.)
MTG: Strong, independent men nearly all have the same need for an affectionate life companion as strong, independent women have. Indeed, so have meek and mild men and women. A lot of things that we say bother women also bother men; a lot of things we say women like, men like also.
In general, men and women do manifest strength and needs differently. Some of that tis properly (oops - is probably) social and some of it biological but I've never seen anyone who could thoroughly separate the two.
Since men and women are indeed different and sometimes we don't quite understand one another, it seems like mutual forbearance would cover most of what we don't understand. And also open-mindedness about women who like to shoot and men who like to cook.
I know we definitely think differently. I can count on asking Mr. Husband at least 3 questions and 4 qualifiers in order to get an answer to what I thought was a simple question.
When I got my first truck driver license in 1985 I lived in New York State. By law, parallel parking was part of all New York driver's tests then. You haven't lived until you've parallel parked a road tractor and a 45 foot trailer on a Binghamton city street with the examiner and your new boss watching and your job depending on it.
They were impressed that such an inexperienced driver pulled it off first try (I think you got two.) I didn't bother to tell them it was my first license, not my first rodeo.
Another method is to head straight in and just before you hit the curb turn the wheel to the right (curb side) so the tire hits the curb square. Drive the right front wheel on to the sidewalk, turn left (road side) and drop the tire back down on to the road. Done.
She could just move to MD where it is no longer required. Instead, they've raised registrations, emissions testing, inspection and just about every other fee they could think of, so maybe it would cheaper to just buy 2 traffic cones and practice the art.
CReed - I actually like your idea of practicing with the cones.
Parallel parking is just so easy, once you get the hang of it. My father taught me and I do have to say he was a good teacher - matter of fact. This is the way you do it - let’s practice - and get it done.
Or as you suggested, she could move to MD (a fate not so bad as MA or CA but still not good.)
The one and only good reason to be happy that I have not yet and likely never will meet the lovely and perspicacious gentlewoman Susan Vass: she is happy in her existence of having "never, even once, seen a male person . . . fail to execute an excellent parallel park."
Oh well. Nobody parallel parks any more, anyway, ron! I'm sure you have many other fine qualities -- for example, you know the meaning of "perspicacious"! AG
My Aunt Dolly was parkaphobic. If all the nose-in spaces in her small downtown were occupied leaving only the parallel option she would return home and try another day.
She and uncle were terrified of big city traffic. When visiting they would leave their car at my sister’s house 40 miles outside of the metro. The station wagon shuttle to our house was never resented. I think my parents treasured the hour to catch up before the whole house havoc began.
AG's joke at the end about “you sound just like my ex-wife” reminds me of a bit of my personal history.
A number of years ago a woman and I were considering the sacrament of marriage. Long story short, she developed a habit of reminding me of my faults, in a very harsh and nagging way. Not sure why she started to do it, I'm sure I was guilty of many of the things she said, but generally speaking despite what women may think guys don't like to get nagged like that so we had to have a conversation which I had hoped would resolve it:
Me: Why do you criticize everything I do?
Her: I criticize you because I'm trying to improve you.
Me: <speechless>
Me: I can find more attractive women to speak to me like that.
Officially the reason for her termination on Form 1022-I that all guys are required to file with Department of Men when the put women on the waiver wire was “wanted me to get rid of my beloved cat” but that was merely a formality to help her in future dating endeavors. Women with the “She was a nag” on their 1022s tend to be marked for life when prospective dates do a background search.
I wanted to let her down easy so the exact words I used when I told her I was dumping her was “I'm downsizing my personal life.”
She did want me to get rid of the cat, “I know he means the world to you, but...”
I don't think she really thought about what she was saying.
Ah yes. The Paranoid Texan (my walking partner and next-door neighbor) said when he worked at Northrup Grumman (sp?), a way to let people know they were fired was to say, "We are going to expand your employment opportunities." I hope eventually you found a pleasant non-shrewish woman. You are WAY too funny not to have an audience! AG
There is another part to the story. About a week or so before things went kablooey with the woman who wanted one day to be my ex-wife, she was over to pick something up. Little did I know that it would be the last time she would visit, but someone knew.
Fluffy sauntered out, sat down, and looked at her. For a few, brief seconds they locked eyes, after which he sauntered off with his tail in the air. At first he was telling her to smell his butt. Then I realized he was telling her that “one day you will be gone and I will be here... I will win.”
That was confirmed a month later when I awoke in the middle of the night to find this large white fluffy cat sitting on my chest, looking at me with a fierce, determined look. If you know something about white fluffy cats named Fluffy is that they never look determined, let alone fierce.
Yet there he was.
After several seconds of eye contact, he crawled under the bed sheets (as was his wont) and went to sleep.
The message was delivered “I will not always be here to save you from your poor choice in women, in the future you must be wiser.”
Fluffy might have been neurotic, but he was certainly wise.
Sadly that’s how we inherited my son’s two cats, one he rescued literally from the white line of a busy road and the other from the pound. He got the ultimatum as well. He apparently was not as strong as you. Ah well, we have two beautiful grandchildren as well as two cats.
Allowing there are exceptions, like a physically debilitating addiction or a career in armed robbery, if your intended sweetheart demands that you give up something very important to you, it's a very bad sign. "The dog or me" will probably end happier if you keep the dog. It'll go waayy past the dog and you'll always be mad about the dog.
As for men in sick beds -- I have this meme that depicts a man swaddled in bed with an icepack on his forehead surrounded by a flurry of tissues and cough syrups. His wife, standing at his side with a somewhat wry expression, asks: "Can I get you anything else? Orange juice, another blanket, your balls . . ."
Even my glorious Tomboy wife Linda, (and Susan I think you and she would get along famously) can make a story out of a simple question. God bless her, I'll listen because, let's be honest, she puts up with so much crap from me.
I am going to send you a recipe for an excellent Chocolate Cake that takes -- literally -- five minutes to make. From SCRATCH! Very moist and delicious. AG
SUSAN'S CHOCOLATE CAKE MADE EASY (original recipe from Peg Bracken's "I Hate To Cook Book" (I like to give credit where due)
1-1/2 cups sifted flour
3 Tablespoons cocoa
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
------------
5 tablespoons olive or canola oil
1 Tablespoon vinegar
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup of cold water
Grease a 9x9 inch square pan. Set oven to 350 degrees.
Get a medium-size bowl and put sifted flour back in large sifter with the other 4 dry ingredients and sift all into bowl.
Next -- no, really -- make 3 holes in the dry ingredients. In one, put the olive oil, in the other the vinegar and the 3rd the vanilla. Pour the cold water over all.
Bill, you don't need a mixer. Just beat with a wooden spoon or spatula until it looks all nice and chocolatey. Use the spatula to put into greased pan.
Bake for half an hour.
Frost with a bought frosting -- Fudge, Cream Cheese, whatever. It's a very moist and rich cake and will be fine even with a little sprinkling of powdered sugar.
A friend of Mrs. B's who loved to fish flew out from Maine to Wisconsin to hunt the wily Muskie. Knowing my skill at fishing, I hired a guide. After listening to those two wiseass women all morning the guide turned to me and said "Be careful. Hitler got in a lot of trouble by fighting a war on two fronts."
My good friend Clark: as Susan knows, I myself (redundant but appropriate) bake, but it’s bread. For years I’ve baked whole wheat bread for us. Not the same as cakes, is it? It’s a necessity I provide for my dear wife, whose digestive system runs best on Grandpa’s bread. Oh dear TMI. I’m up early ( earlier) because I’m in Maryland visiting my son’s family. Two grandsons to match my daughter’s two granddaughters. Rich as Croesus, I am.
When he and Mrs. Goodheart visited us in Prescott one summer, he brought me TWELVE yuge loaves of challah (Jewish Sabbath bread, braided) that were THE best challah i have ever eaten. When are you visiting again? Asking for a friend...AG
I have always said if you want proof there is a difference between boys and girls, just mention The 3 Stooges. Men will immediately start giggling and women will roll our eyes. Some exceptions to this, but they are outliers. I have done this in groups of both sexes and been proven right.
Indeed. Women just look at the chaos the Stooges have created and think, "SOMEONE has to clean this up." Joe loves the Three Stooges and is very proud that they all are Jewish. Arggh. AG
Billings MT takes 1st prize for bizarre parking ideas not to mention changing downtown streets from two way to one way and back again. How about angle parking by backing into the space. I once helped a lady, backing up, get close enough to the curb as she was still in the driving lane and about 4 feet from the curb. It is really fun parallel parking on the left side of a one way street......done that two, maybe three times in 60 years of driving. And this is the capper if you can imagine it. You take a wide street in a busy downtown area with normal parallel parking, and screw it up by: 1) putting a two way bike lane next to the curb with a yellow stripe dividing the opposing lanes, 2) you put a row on small posts the keep the cars out of the bike lane, now, 3) you make parallel parking for cars next to the line of posts. What you have left is two narrow driving lanes. If someone opens their car door to exit after parking, it may be taken off by passing traffic. NOW THAT IS GENIUS PLANNING. We are talking Billings MT, not downtown Palm Springs. Go figure. Tons of bike enthusiasts in the winter.
As a resident of Billings, I would protest except that I agree with you.
If you are a resident or live nearby (in MT, that's within 40 miles), you will have a chance to meet Geoff selling books at Miller's Horse Palace the weekend of April 18-19. He's inordinately proud of his first 2000-page Kindle month this month.
MTG: It's a pre-fab indoor rodeo and equine venue, thus "Horse Palace". They've hosted me without charge to sell books at Little Britches rodeo, very gracious family. The event April 18-19 is a craft fair so I'll be paying rent this time.
As Columbo used to say in every episode: "Just one more thing". I deliberately prepared a "mostly-funny" column to contrast with Max's very serious one on Israel yesterday. But, I would take it as a big personal favor if all readers here would look at yesterday's Max column and especially to watch the YouTube videos. Just to see what the Israelis are doing to rid the entire WORLD of terrorism, hopefully, for a long time. Am Yisrael Chai! And thank you. AG
What she said. To this Gentile, it was a very valuable post, as was his previous one. I got a lot of laughs out of the videos in that post:
https://stevehayward.substack.com/p/notes-from-upstream-laughter-through
The notification popped up and said “I could be wrong”, my first thought was, I bet she’s not.
Excellent, humorous and SHORT comment! AG
I read all through this particular comment chain which lauds "short" comments. I find the fixation on short, concise, even terse (Ol' Mel) comments to be troubling, even cult-like.
I mean, everyone remembers the 2 hour speech that Edward Everett gave at Gettysburg before Abraham Lincoln spoke for three whole minutes. And, whose speech is remembered after almost 163 years?
Yep, give me that old fashioned stemwinder every time.
You are hilarious, my dear friend! AG
Nah, just miffed.
According to my AI "miffed" means annoyed. Deb, I'm hurt to my core that you would see me as either annoyed or annoying (though my bride suggests that I can be the latter. But, she went to Texas A&M, so......
Give your wife a big Aggie “WHOOP” for me!
Great! (Even shorter)
Oh?
Victor Hugo telegram to publisher on publication of "Notre Dame de Paris": "?"
Reply: "!"
Great comics have to understand human beings.
Tis true, Bryan. And they also have to be logical. A comic has to lead the audience from Point A, the "premise" to Point C, the "punchline" and to get the "joke" there has to be a logic to the journey. And, hopefully, a surprise as well. AG
Thank you Professor, for another gem that has so many reminders of my late wife's propensities.
How's this for a short comment:
You're first!
Congratulations Gerry.
Verbose.
I once had a little book of famous insults. A reviewer had once said, "Nice, but it drags in spots" of a two-line poem. Ouch! AG
Reminds me of a story I heard about Calvin "Silent Cal" Coolidge:
At a dinner party the woman sitting next to Cal told him that she had bet a friend that she could get more than two words out of him. His response: "you lose".
I have heard this before - thanks for the reminder!
Less is more.
5th LOL o day
(at some point, we humans will be back to grunting at each other)
Grunts can be meticulously communicative.
Just ask me if I want to watch reruns of "Friends".
(grunting in agreement)
If I mentioned romance, grunts and squeals, you would accuse me of taking the low road.
So I won't.
Why not. With emojis, we've progressed from alphanumeric written communication to hieroglyphics. Might as well go all the way.
grunt GRUNT gruntgrunt.
At least before they have their morning coffee.
Hey there Lois. Great to see you out and about on this fine morning.
Grunt at the rest of your family for me...or speak if you must.
Y’all are cracking me up!
Yeah, you get it.
Oh, my, so much wrong here. So why am I laughing so hard?
As a teenager I liked to cook and I liked cats. This worried my father, who began to think I was homosexual. Finally I said to him "I wish! It would be nice to want to have sex with someone who'd give a simple straight answer to the question." The subject never came up again.
Most importantly, there are strong independent women who are quite enjoyably heterosexual. I have found strong independent women to be better at everything - especially better intimately. I am married to one, and just had this conversation this morning:
Friend: "[Mrs. Blackwater] shouldn't be doing that. You should tell her to stop."
Me: "You want her to do it more?"
But yes, she is a woman and never uses two words when a thousand would do. She is usually quiet, but ask her to explain anything and you will learn ALL about it. I don't mind, she takes that skill to work and is great at quality control. No detail gets past her.
When it has to be done fast and effectively, I do it. When it has to be done with attention to detail, she does it. It was 42 years ago, almost to the day, that we concluded our first argument with her moving in to my shack. It's worked out OK since.
Now if I could just get her to hunt deer with a rifle instead of a Chevrolet.
Very funny and give my warmest regards to the long-suffering Mrs. Blackwater! AG
"LOVE" emoji....
Funny sometimes, but NEVER concise.
I bagged a nice six-point buck some few years ago, but Montana insists that you have a hunting license rather than a driver's license if you want to keep it. $3k worth of venison we never ate.
My baby brother -- the one with the triple bypass all the dear commenters prayed for and is doing great! -- hit a deer with his Chevette many years ago and DID get a friend with a pickup to get it and take it to a meat locker. He did not lose out on $3k worth of venison! AG
As a legendary claims manager I have this advice for the Commentariat:
Try not to hit a fourteen-point buck at eighty miles-an-hour while driving a Chevette.
I dated a girl with a Chevette, you don't ever have to worry about 80 MPH. Reliable, but not a race car.
I had a van with a non-working speedometer and I always knew that when it started shaking, I was going sixty miles-an-hour. I also could see the highway through the hole in the floor.
Now I sleep in that van, parked down by the river, the fate of many a failed inspirational speaker.
So, finally, here's news you can use.
(First big grin of the day)
Great to see you out and about TonyP of the famed One, Seven Three.
So he traded a Chevette for six months of venison. Did his friend have to haul the car back as well or was it easy to peel off the deer?
Bless his heart - I wrote to him and he actually wrote back despite his recovery. What a doll is your brother.
Oh, thank you so very much for doing that! AG
Here in the South you keep what you kill.
The very thought keeps some people alive.
Including road kill Raccoons?
Just because we can doesn't mean we do.
Reminds me of a joke: A guy hits a cow elk. Everyone keeps asking him if he's got a cow tag.
Legendary story from Wyoming game warden: "Sir, in Wyoming, we don't put shoes on elk."
Hunting deer with a car is not a great way to hunt. Having experienced it myself, I do not recommend it to anyone. Nor does the car.
It's better if you can get your husband to fix the car. Also if you drive a car so fancy that fixing it with a Sawzall works.
Check out this video of over 1,000 deer crossing the ID-21 wildlife bridge.
https://youtu.be/NX-I7BE4Hc4
"Finally I said to him 'I wish! It would be nice to want to have sex with someone who'd give a simple straight answer to the question.'"
(Tugging at tie, Dangerfield-like)
"Johnny...I'm a now a bisexual...I mean, now I've doubled my chances of scoring..."
"I get no respect...do you know those new robots, the ones you can have sex with? They're realistic, ooh, they're realistic. I asked mine 'Baby, what's say you and I get together later' and the robot said 'I have a headache.'"
Another No-Respect Rodney remark: "My wife likes to talk to me during sex. Just the other day she called me from some cheap motel."
My wife told me that sex is better on vacation. Not the message I was expecting on her postcard.
Sixth good laugh of the day.
(Tugging tie) I sat down to get a drink, the bartender asked me...
'What'll you have?'
"I don't know, just surprise me."
He showed me a naked picture of my wife.
(Ok, so the Dangerfield material had some gaps...)
"Away put your weapon. A headache I have."
LOL
Clark, don't be silly. You're too worldly wise. If ya don't want to know how to build the watch, don't ask what time it is!
I didn't know you'd met Mrs. Blackwater.
My wife claims that I am also stricken with this trait.
MTG: One of my clients and a few Commentarians have said that asking me a question is like trying to sip from a fire hose.
"As a teenager I liked to cook and I liked cats."
Hmm.
Change much I don't.
I read that as "I like to cook cats."
A co-worker had been in the Air Force. His unit had been tasked with supporting a month long exercise in a North Carolina base. He and a couple buddies were the onsite tech support for the Army units rotating through each week training with AF ground support pilots. (too much detail yet?) On weekends they were left in their tent, but did have a jeep to get to the base (and town) for supplies.
Every return trip they 'accidentally' hit a deer on the way back. Each trip back was on a different path, but somehow a little red deer would always find them. They ate well the last three weeks, and had lots of trade goods to exchange with the army grunts as they rotated through.
Alas, I must go walk my 2 miles early before it is 100 degrees here. Please carry on. I will read EVERY SINGLE COMMENT when I return. You all are in rare form today. Back soon! AG
I've heard that only feral cats and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun...great Bob Dylan song.
Speaking of All-American Englishmen...where's Louis?
I have been at yet another Doctor’s appointment- the third this week. The good news is that all is well, and I am recovering for my three week “vacation”.
One of Susan’s best columns today, but I have nothing to add
God Bless, Louis! Thank you for your kind words. Are there any better words in the world than "all is well"?
AG
Thank goodness Louis...and thanks for the update.
I feared you must have felt compelled to go out in the mid-day sun and then felt compelled to keel over.
He's here somewhere, I got an upvote from him. If I could change one thing here - besides cute cat memes - I would let you see everyone who upvoted you.
Your first upvote on this is from me.
You should receive an email indicating the name of the person(s) who upvoted you.
Better to do like other sites and show anyone if they hover over the heart.
I suspect that AmmoGrrrll's and the Paranoid Texan's critters are "feral" only by courtesy or as a bit of denial.
Not sure if it's still true, but in CA all cats were classed as feral. If your cat got into your neighbor's chickens, your neighbor couldn't sue. On the other hand, if your neighbor saw your cat off your property and shot it, you couldn't sue.
Dogs had owners, cats were independent.
Just to counter with "sales" stories from the other side of the counter; I once framed pictures and sold pre-framed prints. We generally framed the prints; but some were purchased from wholesalers. (I know - get on with the story) One of the best sellers was a print of the Last Supper. I gave it a prominent position at the front of the store where it could be seen through the window - but not too close because the sun would bleach it in a matter of months.
We got more comments on that framed print than any other. People would generally stop and look it over. Interested or not they would almost always say: "Is that the Last Supper"? To which I would always reply: " At that price! No, no, no this is the Wednesday night dinner. But no one will know! I keep the real copy in the back". I always made the sale. I never questioned whether the sale came from the joke or if some people actually believed the Wednesday night story. I sold a ton of those pictures.
Timothy, I do not recall seeing your name in the comments before. (However, I am now at the age where I could say in a Senate Hearing, "I do not recall" and not be lying.) This is very funny! Father Guido Sarducci, a comic from about half a century ago, had a very funny bit about "The Last Brunch" and the disciples arguing about splitting up the check.
Please join us often. Ammo Grrrll
Done. Just joined. Although I was confused when it looked like I joined Hayward and Not you. I think I understand now. I worked in tech for 40 years. But you'd never guess it.
Prof. Hayward, a dear friend of Our Hostess, is Our Hostess' Host.
Don Novello.
Tim...I think this is the second good laugh of the day.
By the by...did you ever have a Hunter Biden acrylic pass through the store? I hear those sold like hotcakes...hotcakes dusted with powder.
I bet you made a fortune selling the dogs playing poker on velvet picture. Welcome!
One of the best Python sketches - The Last Supper:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9Aj7W3g1qo
That's hysterical.
Want to see a great film, a serious film? Watch the "Agony and the Ecstasy" with Charleton Heston and Professor Higgins (playing the Pope).
Spoiler alert: Heston spills paint on the tile floor of the Sistine Chapel and is forced to send his crew to Home Depot to buy replacement tiles...then he resigns in a huff.
The Sistine Chapel -- like the Great Pyramid of Cheops, an example of how contracts are always late and over budgett.
True, but unlike the Obama Monstrosity in Chicago, at least at the end of it, you get something beautiful. AG
(Cue: Randy Newman, “It’s a Jungle out There.”)
“It′s a jungle out there. Violence and danger everywhere.
It's brother against brother,
pounding on each other like they were millionaires.
It′s a jungle out there. Even the cops are scared today.
So if you see a uniform, do exactly what they say,
or make a run for it…‘cause it’s a jungle out there.
I could be wrong now…but I don’t think so.”
And Ammo is never wrong. But there are times I wonder…
“Sure, I SAID there would not be another cat column for awhile, and I am a woman of my word. It goes without saying that there is no truth to the vicious sexist rumor that women change their minds overmuch. The reference to cats will be merely tangential. And there will be no pictures.”
There’s no truth to the sexist rumor that men respond visually and like pictures. And speaking of pictures, I so miss seeing in the comments section lovely pictures of cute kittens, pictures of cat fights and especially memes like the one that got me through more than twenty years in the corporate world, it was taped to the side of my cube, a cute kitty holding onto a clothesline with her forepaws, the caption “Just Hanging in There.” Great memes never die, they just fade away.
By the by, Chuck Norris…bye, bye. Rest in Peace. You will be missed.
“She was talking about men paying for sex and said SHE would pay a guy just to sit and listen to her anecdotes and the only thing he would be allowed to say was: ‘And THEN what happened?’”
And then what happened? The man said “I’ll give you back the money I was paid if you will shut up and have sex with me.” (Sorry…R-rated. Like Michelle Obama, I always try to take the high road but I sometimes fail.) And speaking of the high road:
“Last Friday, we enjoyed a lively discussion of the wisdom of letting naked men flop about in real-women spaces. Much hilarity and common sense ensued. Not even to mention a new comment record!” Ammo? Give the Commentariat what they demand…more articles about naughty bits flopping about.
As always, the highlight of this or any other week, the post of a gal who could never be wrong…I’ve heard many say so including the Hmong, reformed members of the Viet Cong, Chinese patriots living in Hong Kong…heck, I even read a reference to Ammo in the Little Red Book of Mao Zedong! Now I do not mean to demean or be mean, or even create a commie meme…sometimes that’s just how the rhyming cookie crumbles. But what is the good fortune contained within? We are able to give thanks, once again, for another gem from our beloved Mrs. Ammo Grrrll.
Another masterpiece, sir! I await the sad day when you rhyme "Grrrll" with "hurl". AG
We all love our AmmoGrrrll
Who, when a girl, would hurl
A softball with grace
While scoring an ace
As the boy at bat would just twirl.
'Kay - can we stop now?
I love you dearly... but....
Our Hostess tossed the gauntlet.
Better that than cookies.
Better cookies than a bouquet.
If Tony could perfect Rancid Bunny's dance moves, he could have a new career as a rap artist.
Hmmm...I picture me and Lizzo onstage, her twerking-away, me juggling cats in my pink bunny costume while rapping a Cole Porter tune.
(A man has to have dreams, doesn't he?)
Kinda related for you and Tracy:
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/7-q2lIjZmyQ
Love it. Cats on the runway. And one of them sporting a bayonet.
😸
If you killed a Cole Porter tune, would that be Cole slew?
Not to be confused with Cole slaw. That requires mayonaise.
Since this Tony is the prince of "that's not my cat", here's 37 funny stories about "not my cat".
https://www.msn.com/en-us/lifestyle/lifestyle-buzz/37-of-the-best-my-house-not-my-cat-moments-that-have-ever-happened-to-humans/ar-AA1S1k7y?
Need accompaniment for the tunes?
(Sound on for full effect)
https://www.facebook.com/reel/885971531010494
That cat can play.
Hmmm...gave me an idea...
(Thanks again Ammo)
NOOOOOOOOO!
There are many things to rhyme with "Bonnie." But for my money, perhaps the best song Prince ever wrote: "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean."
Or was that Dylan and just "My Bonnie Lies?"
I think Bonnie lay across his big brass bed. His clothes were dirty but his hands were clean.
This Bonnie HATES HATES HATES the song "My Bonnie" .
Just so namby pamby.
I was just going to reference that big brass bed. Luckily, I scrolled down.
Don't forget Bonnie Prince Charlie, the loser.
King Charles...as we say in America, he be a bonnie lass.
Naughty bits are not naughty unless you make them so by doing something like swinging them in a place that is supposed to be a safe space for women.
Feminists have explained to me how some cad patting her caboose is "the functional equivalent of rape." Yet what happened on October 7 doesn't count, because genocide or something. A rape victim traumatized by a swinging member in the locker room just needs to get over herself because of intersectionality or something.
Of course feminists can't be funny. They can't even see that their entire belief system is a cruel joke. Besides that, polemics don't have punch lines.
Leftists, in general, can't be funny (see, that late-night guy who hates plumbers.).
What a moron! I hope every toilet in his house backs up and no plumber will come to fix it. AG
Sadly, you are doomed to disappointment. He never uses the facilities in his home. He simply waits for his nightly monologue to share with his fans.
But apparently he is OK with former bartenders in the House of Representatives or even running for President.
Yes! Jimmy Kimmel actually sneered at "plumbers heading DHS", referring to Markwayne Mullen. who started out as a plumber and earned his way to public service.
Kimmel - what a moron!
Brings up " bitter clingers" from Obama, and and " baskets of deplorables" from Hillary.
I truly, truly hope that our all-American tech graduates see through this elitism that utterly personifies the Left in America.
In 1966 in Chicago, somebody paid for a poster campaign on the El to encourage yutes to stay in school. There was a poster of a group of sad, sullen guys pitching pennies in the street. The copy was "I dropped out of school," and some wag had written under it "And now I are a millionaire."
If our son were a teenager instead of a middle-aged man, I would definitely encourage him to go into the trades -- plumbing, carpentry, tool and die -- anything but suffer through a commie indoctrination called college. AG
I heard on the local radio here that graduates of welding and electrician trade schools in South Carolina now earn more than recent college graduates. Whether this has to do with our skyrocketing growth from failed leftist state refugees or is national I do not know.
I do know that a society so used to calling someone to help them that it no longer equips new cars with spare tires has some kind of sickness. Dammit, we're Americans. We're supposed to take care of ourselves.
I do know I pray every night that our new residents are refugees and not missionaries.
Here in Alexandria MN we do have a very good tech school with plenty of opportunities. You name it, we do it.
If I had it to do again, I might very well go into a trade. In my 30's, I hooked up with a really intelligent man who worked with his hands, in a university department where he created made-to-order scientific tools and machines that scientists needed.
Does anyone do that anymore? Universities are stuck into regulations that stifle creativity in so many ways, ie, we are hampered, not by our imaginations, but by the ability of our tool users to develop machines that can do what we need to do when our scientific imaginations need technitions to help us do what our scientific dreams imagine.
Obviously a man who had to drop out of college when his Dad got sick, took over his business, and grew it into a company with over 150 full time employees, doesn't know nearly as much as some nepo baby with a Harvard degree and no student debt.
But going to Harvard, (instead of any other school,) is because it's not what you know, but who.
"Polemics don't have punch lines" says a lot in a little, I salute you!
I stole that "naughty bits" bit from the Monty Python folks.
"polemics don't have punch lines"
Maybe that's why polemicists never seem to stop; they can't find the punch line.
Is there an opportunity here? A vast un-served market? I imagine selling fifty dollar tickets to wait for a turn to "Punch a Pundit!"
Good one. Maybe use the old game of putting him over a barrel of water, and letting contestants throw baseballs at a target that when hit, dumps him in the water. All the time, he has a microphone and is polemicizing to beat the band.
I thought the guy women paid to listen to long stories without interruptions was called a psychiatrist.
That's why psychiatrists make the big bucks!
And I bet they can't WAIT to say, "I'm sorry, MacKenzie, but our hour is up."
AG
You're right Deb. The psychiatrist listens and then...
...prescribes.
The Rolling Stones once sang, or was it Prince?
"...she goes running for the shelter of a mother's little helper..."
I must have been misinformed...I thought he is called a 'gynecologist'.
There will be an enhanced version of your old poster tomorrow.
Dental appointment?
Good morning Ammo dear! Your discount math reminded me of one of my sales tactics back when I worked for Kohls for a while. If someone was considering a comforter and sheet set purchase, but thought it expensive, I'd do the math and point out that since they would be using it all the time, it would only cost this little per day. Didn't always get the sale, but usually got a chuckle from them.
Talk about a strong, independent woman and yet the kind of doting grandmother who MOVES to Wisconsin (of all places! I kid) to be with them. Ms. Kayak has hiked ALONE in Death Valley for Pete's sake. And many other places as well. She is also a Lt. Col (Ret.) in the Air Force. She is one of my Lady Heroes! AG
“Less than a pack of cigarettes per day” was an effective guilt pitch for selling encyclopedias. Theoretically anyway. I still made zero sales.
But I already spend less than a pack a day, I don't smoke. Why lose all my savings on big heavy books?
Besides, my dad had two sets and both grandparents did too. New Encyclopeadia bury or omit all the good stuff. Like the industrial synthesis of sulfuric acid or the steps for lab scale production of nitroglycerine.
I'm always looking for a good recipe for nitroglycerin. 😬
Mix nitric and sulfuric acids, chill to near freezing (40F) in a tall (3'+) fat (2" +) clear cylinder, pack ice around the cylinder on three sides. Using an eye dropper, drop a single drop of glycerine into the top of the cylinder and watch it drift down. Wait one minute after it reaches bottom, then add another drop. Repeat. The glycerine should take on a slight yellow hue fro m the reaction. When done, decant off the acid mix. Rinse the product with DI, then with sodium carbonate solution, then with DI, repeat three times. Let sit in a cool dry place after decanting the last rinse and wait for the water to evaporate.
Now chill it to below 40F again, gently mix with ten times its volume of water, and pour it in to a large body of water to dispose of it. Way too dangerous to try and use.
😸
Ask Alfred Nobel how to deal with it safely.
It turns out that some silly-seeming items are seriously worth buying the best you can get. Sheets and towels are on that list.
My wife and I have stepped up to linen sheets only, and they are wonderful. And magical too, because they seem to keep you both cool when it's hot and warm when it's cold.
As you can imagine, with the EARLY bleeping heat wave we are experiencing here, I finally took the flannel sheets off the bed! I will have to investigate linen. I bet they are a [witch] to iron? AG
Does ANYBODY still iron sheets???
WHY??? Nobody sees them but us .... and even then who cares?
Ah, there is nothing quite so luxurious as a freshly ironed pillowcase on which to lay one's head. Scoff if you want. That's how my Mama did it and that's how I do it! She also starched and ironed 14 white dress shirts a WEEK for Daddy. He came home from the drugstore for lunch at noon and changed into a fresh shirt! AG
I dunno that linen is especially hard to iron, but I last touched an iron before we went to Germany.
I don't understand ironing sheets anyway. They go under the quilt, blanket, duvet or whatever.
Interesting, Deb. My spouse claims not to understand the physics of a vacuum cleaner. When I tried to explain the technology, she then claimed that these machines were designed for use only by humans who carried the Y chromosome and secreted vast quantities of testosterone.
So, in my house, it's the sign of a manly man to daily suck up the volumes of Husky hair that our roommates, Bear and Pepper, shed.
BTW, I haven't seen an iron in decades, and last thing we'd use it for would be bed sheets.
Ironing?? I don't know whether I could dig out the iron from the archeological treasures in my basement...
- it may actually not work under modern electrical rigamarole of the 21st century.
I can't imagine what a modern iron would be like. It would need all the warning labels - "Caution, do not use on facial wrinkles" "Do not use to crown your husband king of the jackasses" etc. It would need warning lights to indicate when the bottom is hot, and an alarm to beep every time you moved it backwards. Might even have enough PIA safety features to make our hostess quit ironing sheets.
My grandmothers' irons still work fine. Put them on the stove or in the oven, fire it up, and once the iron is hot, commence. When an iron gets cool, put it back in to heat and grab a hot one. Just as dangerous as ever.
I am very partial to bamboo sheets for our summer weather.
Sheet rock, it turns out, is just as hard as it sounds.
They feel even better when they're a little wrinkled.
(I miss the old Yorkshireman threads)
You and your wife have sheets? Luxury. We have to string together a lot of "free" napkins we steal from the local convenience store hot-dog garnish table to cover the "roof" of our home, a pothole in the middle of the road.
Pothole? How spacious! We only had a low spot in the pavement. Even the mice were hunchbacked.
(not bad Deb)
You had hunchbacked mice? Luxury.
We could only dream of hunchbacked mice...we had to settle for reading paperback copies of Hugo's "The Hunchbacked Mice of Notre Dame."
By the by, those mice, forming a great backfield, led the Irish to a National Championship.
The hunchbacked mice were delicious.
Sounds like just another rich yuppie with a swimming pool
Tires, shoes, and mattresses are where the rubber hits the road, never skimp on these!
Were you a used car salesman in a previous life?
Speaking of Female Speak:
Me: where are the scissors?
Jan: In the kitchen
Me: Where in the kitchen?
Jan: In the drawer
Me: Which drawer?
Jan: The top one
Me: Which top one?
Jan: The left one
Me: By the sink or on the Island?
Jan: The island
Me: Which end of the island?
Jan: By the stove
Me: Thank you
Me: They aren't here
Jan: Try the bed room
Me: Where in the bedroom?
Repeat, etc
That is very very funny, Mark. Joe can find the coffee cups and the drinking glasses in the kitchen in the house where we have lived for 16 years. Beyond that, he considers it a scary place best visited by me. AG
Rose Ann Barr did stand up before she did sitcoms. I remember one of her best lines. With apologies to Ms. Barr, and all who read this comment, it goes:
My husband constantly asks me to find stuff. "Honey, where's the car keys? Honey, where's dog's leash? Honey, where's my screw driver? It drives me crazy. He must think my uterus is a homing device!"
That was many years ago when we were watching Rose Ann Bar tell that particular joke and it was like a light suddenly went on in his mind and from then on, to this day, TonyP repeatedly asks me if my uterus is working. I think the truth is that women walk into a room and instinctively, consciously or not, their brain registers where everything is and notes if something is out of place, categorizing that information for later use, when, inevitably, she is asked, "honey do you know where my . . . is?"
Or, an alternative theory could be that women HIDE all your stuff, so you have to ask them where things are. Diabolical!
Like - NO! Women of substance have far more to do with their lives.... we do know where everything is but why should we waste our precious moments playing stupid games - unless we end up with males who can't keep track of stuff? Oh, OK, we tell you where they are.
Do you know how much precious female intellectual genius gets wasted telling guys where stuff is? And you laugh about how so many discoveries are made by men? Wonder why? Sheesh.
Hmmmmm....marital (dis)harmony???
It isn't? Coulda fooled me.
My pointing device only points at things that would get me in trouble.
Do you know my husband?? he asks the same questions and gets almost the same responses. Except our scissors are on top the 7-ft-tall fridge where I can't see them; he's over 6 feet tall so sometimes I have to ask HIM where the scissors are...LOL!
Sometimes I can't resist replying, when asked where something is, "Do you actually LIVE here?" 🐱
I confess to being a bit of a martinet about where the scissors are in my house. There is a Place to which they should always be returned. Ditto with scotch tape, pens, rulers, stamps, etc.
I cannot imagine you a martinet under ANY circumstances! AG
I get that a lot — these days I am pretty mild. But that is due to years of taming a rather hot temper. I wouldn’t even let anyone else, not even my major professor, into my lab because they might move things.
"Have a place for everything and keep it somewhere else. This is not advice, merely custom." Attributed to Mark Twain.
Third good laugh of the day.
My husband’s sister is a very dear person but never says in five words what she can say in 15! The last time we visited, her loving husband used a pretty funny quip to move one of her stories along -
“Patsy, does this thing have a caboose?”
Susan, we are So on the same page about men! I’m pretty independent with a lot of common sense and love having a very strong, smart husband by my side. Lucky me! (P.S. - I can also parallel park.)
MTG: Strong, independent men nearly all have the same need for an affectionate life companion as strong, independent women have. Indeed, so have meek and mild men and women. A lot of things that we say bother women also bother men; a lot of things we say women like, men like also.
In general, men and women do manifest strength and needs differently. Some of that tis properly (oops - is probably) social and some of it biological but I've never seen anyone who could thoroughly separate the two.
Since men and women are indeed different and sometimes we don't quite understand one another, it seems like mutual forbearance would cover most of what we don't understand. And also open-mindedness about women who like to shoot and men who like to cook.
I know we definitely think differently. I can count on asking Mr. Husband at least 3 questions and 4 qualifiers in order to get an answer to what I thought was a simple question.
Me, too! Except that parking thing.
I refuse to believe that you cannot parallel park! Or do pretty much ANYTHING! AG
When I got my first truck driver license in 1985 I lived in New York State. By law, parallel parking was part of all New York driver's tests then. You haven't lived until you've parallel parked a road tractor and a 45 foot trailer on a Binghamton city street with the examiner and your new boss watching and your job depending on it.
They were impressed that such an inexperienced driver pulled it off first try (I think you got two.) I didn't bother to tell them it was my first license, not my first rodeo.
Tracy, of course you can do it! To start with, you’re probably not pulling up far enough forward beside the car you intend to park behind.
#1 - Pull up beside the car - not too far apart - further forward than you think necessary.
#2 - Back up and cut towards the curb as soon as you can (without hitting the car. LOL)
#3 - Ease on back towards the curb, turning the wheels so that you are eventually parallel to the curb.
#4 - Then ease the car forward if you need to to straighten out the car a bit and so as not to block in the person behind you
Let me know how it goes. You could practice in front of your house. It’s so easy. Don’t get a mindset against it!
If all that could be done without backing up and without getting right and left confused, I could probably be a valet for the Hollywood Hilton.
Thank you! I'll save those instructions.
Another method is to head straight in and just before you hit the curb turn the wheel to the right (curb side) so the tire hits the curb square. Drive the right front wheel on to the sidewalk, turn left (road side) and drop the tire back down on to the road. Done.
I honestly can't tell if that's a joke or not. 😬
It's not. I had a girlfriend who went to college in Massachusetts. First time she did that I thought we were going to end up in someone's basement.
🤣
She could just move to MD where it is no longer required. Instead, they've raised registrations, emissions testing, inspection and just about every other fee they could think of, so maybe it would cheaper to just buy 2 traffic cones and practice the art.
CReed - I actually like your idea of practicing with the cones.
Parallel parking is just so easy, once you get the hang of it. My father taught me and I do have to say he was a good teacher - matter of fact. This is the way you do it - let’s practice - and get it done.
Or as you suggested, she could move to MD (a fate not so bad as MA or CA but still not good.)
The one and only good reason to be happy that I have not yet and likely never will meet the lovely and perspicacious gentlewoman Susan Vass: she is happy in her existence of having "never, even once, seen a male person . . . fail to execute an excellent parallel park."
Oh well. Nobody parallel parks any more, anyway, ron! I'm sure you have many other fine qualities -- for example, you know the meaning of "perspicacious"! AG
My Aunt Dolly was parkaphobic. If all the nose-in spaces in her small downtown were occupied leaving only the parallel option she would return home and try another day.
She and uncle were terrified of big city traffic. When visiting they would leave their car at my sister’s house 40 miles outside of the metro. The station wagon shuttle to our house was never resented. I think my parents treasured the hour to catch up before the whole house havoc began.
Getting on the bus to Boston one morning in Maine I ran into a friend. "I thought you knew how to drive in Boston" was his comment.
"I do, and I get paid for my knowledge. If I'm not getting paid, I'm taking the T."
You want to meet her, just invite her over for a beer.
Hahaha. You may be thinking of Elizabeth Warren...try not to. AG
Nah, Clark knows that Elizabeth Warren was faking it when she pretended to like beer. Who knows what else she's faked?
pretty much everything
Better to think of Elizabeth Willcox.
You got a point Clark. She can swill beer like, well...like the devout Moslem Ilhan Omar/Elmi/Mynett.
AG's joke at the end about “you sound just like my ex-wife” reminds me of a bit of my personal history.
A number of years ago a woman and I were considering the sacrament of marriage. Long story short, she developed a habit of reminding me of my faults, in a very harsh and nagging way. Not sure why she started to do it, I'm sure I was guilty of many of the things she said, but generally speaking despite what women may think guys don't like to get nagged like that so we had to have a conversation which I had hoped would resolve it:
Me: Why do you criticize everything I do?
Her: I criticize you because I'm trying to improve you.
Me: <speechless>
Me: I can find more attractive women to speak to me like that.
Officially the reason for her termination on Form 1022-I that all guys are required to file with Department of Men when the put women on the waiver wire was “wanted me to get rid of my beloved cat” but that was merely a formality to help her in future dating endeavors. Women with the “She was a nag” on their 1022s tend to be marked for life when prospective dates do a background search.
I wanted to let her down easy so the exact words I used when I told her I was dumping her was “I'm downsizing my personal life.”
She did want me to get rid of the cat, “I know he means the world to you, but...”
I don't think she really thought about what she was saying.
Ah yes. The Paranoid Texan (my walking partner and next-door neighbor) said when he worked at Northrup Grumman (sp?), a way to let people know they were fired was to say, "We are going to expand your employment opportunities." I hope eventually you found a pleasant non-shrewish woman. You are WAY too funny not to have an audience! AG
There is another part to the story. About a week or so before things went kablooey with the woman who wanted one day to be my ex-wife, she was over to pick something up. Little did I know that it would be the last time she would visit, but someone knew.
Fluffy sauntered out, sat down, and looked at her. For a few, brief seconds they locked eyes, after which he sauntered off with his tail in the air. At first he was telling her to smell his butt. Then I realized he was telling her that “one day you will be gone and I will be here... I will win.”
That was confirmed a month later when I awoke in the middle of the night to find this large white fluffy cat sitting on my chest, looking at me with a fierce, determined look. If you know something about white fluffy cats named Fluffy is that they never look determined, let alone fierce.
Yet there he was.
After several seconds of eye contact, he crawled under the bed sheets (as was his wont) and went to sleep.
The message was delivered “I will not always be here to save you from your poor choice in women, in the future you must be wiser.”
Fluffy might have been neurotic, but he was certainly wise.
A sure-fire way to know the axe is about to drop is when your boss invites you to lunch.
You dodged a 50 caliber there!
Sadly that’s how we inherited my son’s two cats, one he rescued literally from the white line of a busy road and the other from the pound. He got the ultimatum as well. He apparently was not as strong as you. Ah well, we have two beautiful grandchildren as well as two cats.
Allowing there are exceptions, like a physically debilitating addiction or a career in armed robbery, if your intended sweetheart demands that you give up something very important to you, it's a very bad sign. "The dog or me" will probably end happier if you keep the dog. It'll go waayy past the dog and you'll always be mad about the dog.
Indeed, I wish you were to advise me at that time.
I advise younger people in the same way Clemenza did in the Godfather:
"Leave the woman, take the cat."
As for men in sick beds -- I have this meme that depicts a man swaddled in bed with an icepack on his forehead surrounded by a flurry of tissues and cough syrups. His wife, standing at his side with a somewhat wry expression, asks: "Can I get you anything else? Orange juice, another blanket, your balls . . ."
Those become inoperative at body temperatures over 100 Fahrenheit.
I am told the contents also become inoperative over 100F but this is not reliable contraception.
Even my glorious Tomboy wife Linda, (and Susan I think you and she would get along famously) can make a story out of a simple question. God bless her, I'll listen because, let's be honest, she puts up with so much crap from me.
I always wanted to learn how to bake a cake. I even bought a really nice mixer that is stowed away, sadly still unused. I never liked cake anyway.
I am going to send you a recipe for an excellent Chocolate Cake that takes -- literally -- five minutes to make. From SCRATCH! Very moist and delicious. AG
Hand raised here. Please send one to me too. Mrs. Blackwater loves chocolate cake, but my attempts from scratch have not gone well.
SUSAN'S CHOCOLATE CAKE MADE EASY (original recipe from Peg Bracken's "I Hate To Cook Book" (I like to give credit where due)
1-1/2 cups sifted flour
3 Tablespoons cocoa
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt
------------
5 tablespoons olive or canola oil
1 Tablespoon vinegar
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup of cold water
Grease a 9x9 inch square pan. Set oven to 350 degrees.
Get a medium-size bowl and put sifted flour back in large sifter with the other 4 dry ingredients and sift all into bowl.
Next -- no, really -- make 3 holes in the dry ingredients. In one, put the olive oil, in the other the vinegar and the 3rd the vanilla. Pour the cold water over all.
Bill, you don't need a mixer. Just beat with a wooden spoon or spatula until it looks all nice and chocolatey. Use the spatula to put into greased pan.
Bake for half an hour.
Frost with a bought frosting -- Fudge, Cream Cheese, whatever. It's a very moist and rich cake and will be fine even with a little sprinkling of powdered sugar.
Thank you.
What kind of monster doesn't like cake! 😸
Great to see you here Trace.
Don't you love the cat-free format?
Here is a question I ask of you: Can you have your cake and eat it too? Or is it just a case of the forest not knowing the trees?
Did you hear about the bigamist? He had his Kate and Edith, too.
Do you know the penalty for bigamy in Minnesota?
Two wives.
A friend of Mrs. B's who loved to fish flew out from Maine to Wisconsin to hunt the wily Muskie. Knowing my skill at fishing, I hired a guide. After listening to those two wiseass women all morning the guide turned to me and said "Be careful. Hitler got in a lot of trouble by fighting a war on two fronts."
I should have scrolled down one more before commenting.
You can have your cake, but not Edith too.
Oh...Edith is just a dingbat anyway.
Hint: start with cookies. Then realize that while men are good at cooking meat dishes, baking is for women.
My good friend Clark: as Susan knows, I myself (redundant but appropriate) bake, but it’s bread. For years I’ve baked whole wheat bread for us. Not the same as cakes, is it? It’s a necessity I provide for my dear wife, whose digestive system runs best on Grandpa’s bread. Oh dear TMI. I’m up early ( earlier) because I’m in Maryland visiting my son’s family. Two grandsons to match my daughter’s two granddaughters. Rich as Croesus, I am.
When he and Mrs. Goodheart visited us in Prescott one summer, he brought me TWELVE yuge loaves of challah (Jewish Sabbath bread, braided) that were THE best challah i have ever eaten. When are you visiting again? Asking for a friend...AG
Great to see you up and around so early Mr. Hughes.
About the only thing I've baked that came out well was cornbread.
I used to make cookies for John when he was a little boy. The trouble was, I always ate them, too.
"The trouble was, I always ate them, too."
In this context, "too" is better than "instead".
There are, of course, exceptions. Our son is a good cook in general, and makes better yeast rolls than I do.
Hey there Bill. Always great to see you out and about.
I'm not a dessert person so don't care about baking cakes, but it was worth my time to learn to make my own pizza from scratch.
I learned here: http://www.annamariavolpi.com/public_html/pizza_recipe.html
I do proof the yeast more than she does. Baking does require accurate measuring of ingredients.
I have always said if you want proof there is a difference between boys and girls, just mention The 3 Stooges. Men will immediately start giggling and women will roll our eyes. Some exceptions to this, but they are outliers. I have done this in groups of both sexes and been proven right.
Indeed. Women just look at the chaos the Stooges have created and think, "SOMEONE has to clean this up." Joe loves the Three Stooges and is very proud that they all are Jewish. Arggh. AG
People forget that Moe Howard's full name was Moses Howard.
Moses Horowitz to be exact. AG
I just never thought they were very funny.
Billings MT takes 1st prize for bizarre parking ideas not to mention changing downtown streets from two way to one way and back again. How about angle parking by backing into the space. I once helped a lady, backing up, get close enough to the curb as she was still in the driving lane and about 4 feet from the curb. It is really fun parallel parking on the left side of a one way street......done that two, maybe three times in 60 years of driving. And this is the capper if you can imagine it. You take a wide street in a busy downtown area with normal parallel parking, and screw it up by: 1) putting a two way bike lane next to the curb with a yellow stripe dividing the opposing lanes, 2) you put a row on small posts the keep the cars out of the bike lane, now, 3) you make parallel parking for cars next to the line of posts. What you have left is two narrow driving lanes. If someone opens their car door to exit after parking, it may be taken off by passing traffic. NOW THAT IS GENIUS PLANNING. We are talking Billings MT, not downtown Palm Springs. Go figure. Tons of bike enthusiasts in the winter.
As a resident of Billings, I would protest except that I agree with you.
If you are a resident or live nearby (in MT, that's within 40 miles), you will have a chance to meet Geoff selling books at Miller's Horse Palace the weekend of April 18-19. He's inordinately proud of his first 2000-page Kindle month this month.
Miller's Horse Palace sounds so cool!
MTG: It's a pre-fab indoor rodeo and equine venue, thus "Horse Palace". They've hosted me without charge to sell books at Little Britches rodeo, very gracious family. The event April 18-19 is a craft fair so I'll be paying rent this time.
Jeez they do that on one street in Boise also. Needless to say, I don’t frequent that area.