Follow

Thursday, July 27, 2017

SOME WEIRD, FUNNY (I HOPE) & OTHERWISE ENTERTAINING STUFF

This photo of a hairy swimsuit
was stolen borrowed taken from
peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.com

Not retired yet?
This is for you:

Do you believe in karma?
Read these clips from cracked.com:

Stop Sign Thief Killed in Car Accident


Tyller A. Myers was just that guy. He stole stop signs in his spare time, because he was a 19-year-old with a Ford F-150;it was practically in his Dipshit Teenager contract. But Tyller's theft went beyond that standard pubescent rebel flag: The stop sign hung defiantly on his bedroom wall. Myers was a serial thief: Turns out a lot of stop signs were going missing in Norwalk, Ohio, which can obviously cause some potentially deadly traffic problems.

Then one night, presumably while out Robin Hood-ing some stop signs, stealing from those who had too much traffic control to give to those poor saps with no road signs at all, Myers ran an inexplicably unstolen stop sign. When he drove onto the highway after blowing straight through the intersection, he was hit by a semi and later pronounced dead on the scene. I'm not one to celebrate anybody's death, and I'm not saying he deserved it, but the irony just lines up so perfectly. It's like God was playing a cosmic game of irony pool, and Myers was the friggin' 8 Ball.

When a Vengeful God Misfires


In 2008, right-wing evangelicals tried to keep the democrats out of the White House by turning God into a meteorological republican superweapon. The prophet behind Operation Weapons of Mass Destruction was Stuart Shepard of Focus on the Family. Stuart sent this video to his followers, urging that they pray for "biblical," "torrential," "I'm talking 'umbrella-ain't-going-to-help-you rain'" to fall on then-Senator Barack Obama during his acceptance speech on the last night of the 2008 Democratic National Convention.

So, how did Shepard's prayer-powered weather machine work? Let's put it this way ...



Via My2bucks.com
"OK, which one of you smartasses prayed to the devil?"

You see that floating nightmare drifting toward Houston like something out of Independence Day? That's Hurricane Gustav, and it was set to rock the faces off the National Convention like a meteorological Bon Jovi.

... the Republican National Convention, that is.

Gustav hit so hard the republicans had to shaft most of their speakers for the first night, including Vice President Dick Cheney and President George W. Bush. The democrats, meanwhile, enjoyed such perfectly clear skies that you can't help but imagine God pulled the whole thing off just to tell republicans not to call him during dinner. It didn't last forever, though, since a thunderstorm warning forced President Obama indoors for his 2012 DNC speech four years later. But that was like getting shifted from first class to business compared to the second goddamn hurricane, which hit the 2012 RNC in Tampa, forcing republicans to reschedule and eventually cancel the first night of their second consecutive godforsaken ceremony. Jeez, God really doesn't take orders well, does he?

Suicide Bomber Gets a Spam Text


On New Year's Eve in Russia, the Red Square gets absolutely packed full of drunks, much like Times Square or your mom on a singles cruise. This, of course, makes it a prime target for terrorists who enjoy nothing more than blowing huge crowds -- oh sorry, that's your mom again.

The terrorists' plan was fairly simple: A woman with an explosive-laden belt was to join the Red Square crowd for their New Year's celebration, where she would ring in 2011 by murdering thousands of innocent civilians. It is probably worth noting, in case common sense didn't already tip you off, that terrorists generally don't use their best and brightest as suicide bombers.

If they did, then maybe the amazing exploding woman would have thought to turn off her phone, which was also acting as the bomb's detonator, until it was time to go. But maybe she was hoping to pass the time until her own violent death with a few games of Angry Birds, because she left that phone, and therefore the bomb, fully activated all day. Because irony likes a good party as much as the rest of us, the woman's phone received a "Happy New Year" spam text from her service provider, several hours before the attack was scheduled. The final body count of the New Year's Eve bomb plot? One lone suicide bomber sleeping it off in Hell.

How about some funny videos?

To see how it would be if animals were round, click here.

To hear Bob Nelson introduce a new football lineup, click here.

Here's Rodney at his best:


And the very funny Foster Brooks
(who was actually a teetotaler):
                                   



Wednesday, July 26, 2017

TRAINS, PLANES & AUTOMOBILES (& BLIMPS)



The first time we were in Paris our friend accompanied us on a train to Versailles (about an hour & a half train ride) & dropped us off there.  He had already toured the palace there & had no desire to go through again.  A tour takes all day.  He said we could easily get back to his apartment by just retracing our steps.  I felt fairly comfortable in a French speaking country; after all, I had taken French in high school (20 years earlier)!!  We must have come out a different entrance than we went in because nothing looked familiar.  I stopped someone & asked, "Où est la gare du train?"  (Where is the train station?)  Imagine my surprise when they responded, "Quelle gare du train?" (Which train station?)  I said "Le train à Paris" (The train to Paris) & they pointed out the direction.  There were no cabs around so we ran to the station.  We found it & got on the train to Paris, or so we thought.  Just to confirm, I asked a passenger, "Est-ce le train pour Paris?" (Is this the train to Paris?) & was told "Non!!"  They told me where to catch the right train.  Just before the train started rolling I grabbed Bud's hand & we ran to the right train.  We got on just as they were pulling out.  Our friend had pointed out the Little Statue of Liberty on the way to Versailles & I was very relieved to see it again.
  

We were flying to San Diego to visit some dear friends & take our kids (ages 5-8) to the world famous zoo.  Our friend was meeting our plane.  The flight was uneventful & we were coming in for a landing.  We were almost on the ground & then up we went again.  The pilot got on the horn & informed us that there was a truck on the runway & that he pulled the plane up to avoid him. We circled back & made a smooth landing.  When our friend met us he said, "Wow!!  That was really scary."  I said "Not really" & told him what the pilot said.  His response was "He lied.  Your landing gear wasn't down!!"

Way back in the Stone Age 1969, I bought a new Mustang, made to my specifications. The cigarette lighter & a couple of other things didn't work so I brought it back to the dealer for service. They called me to tell me it was ready & I went back to pick it up. I went to their back lot, where they told me it was--& it WASN'T! Someone had stolen it off the lot. They used to park cars that had been serviced with the keys in them. Only one car had been stolen before mine & it belonged to the son of the man who owned the dealership. The police located my car parked on a side street a few miles away. They had changed the tires to a set of old ones & had removed the seats & the engine. You could open the hood & see the driveshaft!! It was as if they had eaten an orange & left me the peel. They gave me another Mustang as a loaner while they built me another new car.

One thing I had always wanted to do was to ride in the Goodyear blimp.  Somehow my son Matt got a pass for one person.  He knew I would kill him if he used it instead of giving it to me Because he loves me so much, he offered it to me.  I accepted.  I got to fly in the co-pilot's seat, although I didn't get to work the controls.  I remember that it had huge foot pedals, which were the rudders for turning right or left.  I don't remember much else, except that I loved it!! Matt would have liked it, too.












I can't do a post about airplanes without putting this one in:












----fishducky


 





Tuesday, July 25, 2017

I MARRIED AN IMPERFECT MAN


Oh, he's perfect now (Bud made me say that!!) but that wasn't always the case.  Here are just a few of the times he was Mr. Imperfect.

His chemistry teacher in high school, Mr. Seaman, had a hearing disability.  He wore a hearing aid which was connected by a wire to the battery in his shirt pocket.  Bud was reading a report to the class & he slowly kept lowering his voice.  The teacher kept fiddling with the hearing aid battery until he finally realized what was going on.  His comment: "There's a skonk (his pronunciation) in this class!!"

He claims not to remember everything he did, but he apparently stopped doing it.  Bud & a friend wanted to take Physics II without previously taking Physics I.  They need a recommendation from the same Mr. Seaman to get into the advanced class.  This is what he wrote: "Merrifield & Fischer were good boys the second ten weeks."  They got in.

Bud & some friends had visions of becoming teenage entrepreneurs.  One Christmas season they went to UCLA under the cover of night to build up their inventory.  They thought it would be a good idea to sell holly & pine boughs on a busy street corner.  They carefully clipped (stole) holly from a bush in front of Kerckhoff Hall (a major UCLA building) & found some pine cones nearby. They had also actually purchased a small amount from a florist so that they could have a receipt in case the police questioned them.  They took their stash into Westwood Village & set up shop in front of Woolworth's.  The manager came out to chase them away, but after the boys gave him a bottle of booze he gave them exclusive rights to sell in front of his store.  While on another trip to UCLA to replenish their supplies they were caught by the campus police.  The head botanist was called.  One of Bud's friends (We'll call him Max.  To see how Max handled another stressful situation, click here.told the botanist that of course they had stolen the pine boughs but that he wasn't about to admit that to the police.  The botanist laughed & said that they were about to tear down the tree, anyway, but that it should be done properly & then proceeded to cut down a bunch of boughs himself & give them to Max & the boys.  They also learned a little about pricing.  When they realized that one of their potential customers was Clifton Webb, who was a big movie star at the time, they tried to raise the price.  Mr. Webb was having none of that, but he did buy at the regular price.  

He's now a pretty careful driver; maybe a little too careful.  I have accused him of being a graduate of the HELEN KELLER SCHOOL OF DRIVING.  He is apparently more comfortable driving by Braille, because he is constantly on the Bott’s dots (the little reflective markers used to separate lanes) so he can feel his way along the road.  According to him, there are three types of drivers on the road.  They would be the maniacs (people who speed & cut him off), the putzes (those who drive way under the speed limit) & him.  The next two incidents also happened during his teenage days.

He was driving his mother's car home & was distracted by a posthole digger, as any man or boy would be. He found it fascinating, so much so that he drove into a bus that had stopped to pick up passengers.  When the police arrived they asked him how it happened & why he was driving like that.  He told them he didn't know; he always drove that way!!

Then there was the time he knocked a police officer off his motorcycle.  To be fair, that may not have been his fault.  His story: He was driving on Pacific Coast Highway, which is fairly narrow in some parts.  Somebody pulled in front of him & cut him off (obviously a maniac) & he swerved to avoid hitting him.  There was some gravel on the road which made it slippery.  There was a policeman standing in the road with his foot resting on his bike while he was writing someone a ticket.  Bud slammed on his brakes, but was unable to avoid tapping the bike, scaring the hell out of the officer & knocking him onto his ass on the street.  The officer was uninjured, but Bud doesn't remember what, if anything, the officer said to him (assuming he was still able to talk).

To show that Bud (& I) aren't the only ones who now think he's perfect, I'd like to share this email that he received from a client this past Father's Day:

Bud,
As I sit here grateful for your help throughout the years during this Father's Day weekend, I realize that there are not many people in the world that can measure up to the things you have done for me. I know that I am simple and the problems I got into seem trivial to most but for me it was insurmountable at the time. With your help it seems I overcame these travails and came out smelling like a rose. I practiced for 52 years and you said anyone who would put a shingle up and build a practice is a man. I didn't believe you but it is one of the blessings that is paramount in my life. The reason for this writing is my father would be really be touched but he passed before I realized your help. My father was the reason that I accomplished my goal and I needed to be thankful for my dad and you on Father's Day.

Happy Father's Day and Aloha and Mahalo.


Since Bud is now perfect, this is his theme song: