The Cats That Own Us, Part 4

Granma Ladybug did three blogs about our cats, here, here, and here, if you want to go back for a look.  Then she decided that blogging wasn’t really her thing, so it falls to me to continue the tales of The Cats Who Own Us.  Ancient Egyptians worshipped cats.  If the bunch at my house are at all representative, it’s easy to see why.  You’re not given any choice!  Cats have been domesticating humans for over 3000 years.  We’re still a work in progress, but coming along nicely.

SDC10928This is about Contessa, another Bengal, as all ours are.  Like our other cats, she’s also known as Missy, LadyCat, Kitten, and occasionally by epithets best not repeated in polite company.  She was named Tess by the crazy cat lady, but LadyRyl had decided that she wanted to adopt the name Tess.  So, it was decided to expand and regal-fy (?) her title a bit.  She claims she deserves it.  Didn’t matter, as soon as she joined the clowder, I took to calling our smallest cat Missy, or, despite the fact that she’s the oldest, Kitten.  When she’s acting dignified, she’s LadyCat.  Our vet says we’re the only family with so many names for each of our cats.

When we took LadyRyl up to pick up her big boy Benny cat, the wife saw Contessa, who is his mother, and fell in love.  Isn’t she beautiful?  We already had two cats; we didn’t need another.  A cat’s a cat – until we got her home and she became my cat.  Now she’s precious.  She was a breeder and wouldn’t be available for almost three years, but the wife put in a reservation.

By the time we finally got her, she’d been in a bit of a fight, which puckered her right eyelid, causing the eye to constantly weep.  Crazy cat lady is reliable and trusted, but we still took her to our vet for an introduction.  He found that, havSDC10475ing birthed lotsa litters of kittens, her teeth were bad, in fact a couple had already fallen out.  He recommended surgery to remove a total of 14, including her right upper fang.  Now she meows with a lisp, old Snaggletooth does.   While he had her under, he repaired the eyelid.  To harden her gums, sometimes she captures my hand and gnaws on my fingertip.

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The first week we had her, she climbed onto the wife’s lap, seeking comfort and protection.  I didn’t intend to steal her from the wife but, not having one, I’m a sucker for a pretty face.  Soon, she was cuddling in my lap.  It’s her picture with me that I use as a gravatar.  Soon she was confident enough to be on the floor, independent, and Empress of all she surveyed.Picture 203

Before LadyRyl injured both knees, she studied for veterinary’s assistant.  Being the smallest, Contessa’s claws are the sharpest.  Occasionally, when we have daughter and grandson over on a Sunday, I trap Missy in a bathroom and Ryl clips her nails.  Neither the wife nor I can accomplish it.  Having been poked and prodded, grabbed and pushed, by Cat Lady and her female assistant, and now by the daughter, she is leery of everybody, but especially women.

SDC10948 Slowly, she has gone from skittish, to reluctant, to acceptant, to expectant, to demanding.  In fact, I think she’s one or two degrees past demanding.  She can be Damn-manding, and now, Entitled!

The clothes-storage tub she sits on, to look out the window, is in the computer room.SDC10901

If I come in, to work on a blog, she immediately jumps down and gives me a head-butt.  What a little anvil-head!  It’s PET ME, or get a broken shin.  Since that sometimes didn’t work, she’s taken to reaching up to remind me.  She aims for the short sleeve of my tee-shirt, but often catches the inside of my elbow.  Remember those sharp claws??  I do!!

I’ve set a bad example; I’ve caved, and petted her.  Now, She Who Must Be Adored, won’t stop, no matter how much I fuss over her.  Type four words, pet the cat, type three words, pet the cat, type two words, pet the cat.  It’s a wonder I publish Picture 194anything.  I’ve had to put her out and close the door.  When I do stroke and skritch her, from ears to tail-tip, she falls over on the floor so that I can rub her tummy.  Not “lies down,” I mean falls over, with a thump that can be heard across the room, she’s in such a hurry.  Not much bigger than a pack of the revived Twinkies, she’s got a purr like a 15 horse trolling motor.

Which way did they go?  How many of them were there?  How long ago did they leave?  I musPicture 163t find them, for I am their LEADER!

Apparently I am her slave, and she must supervise me.  If I leave the main floor, to go upstairs, or down, she must be ahead, to lead, even if she doesn’t know where we’re going.  Going down, she always stops on the landing and head-butts a pillar in the railing, being irresistible, till I sit and fuss over her.  I may have to remove the wooden ones and replace them with metal to prevent Little Anvil-Head from breaking them out.  Like her floor-flop, the landing-clunks can be heard across the room.  Sometimes I step past the top of the basement stairs, to use the main-floor washroom, and she loses me in the rush.

Archon Had A Little Cat

Mary had a little lamb,
whose fleece was white as snow.

And everywhere that Mary went,
the lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day
which was against the rule.

It made the children laugh and play,
to see a lamb at school.

And so the teacher turned it out,SDC10177
but still it lingered near,

And waited patiently about,
till Mary did appear.

“Why does the lamb love Mary so?”
the eager children cry.

“Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know.”
the teacher did reply.

Since she never had a chance to be a kitten, she’s taking advantage now.  Both to play, and to establish dominance, she will suddenly start chasing one, or all, of the boy-cats.  If one of them makes it up on a chair, or the feeding box, it’s Home-Free, and she will go chase some-one, or something, else.  She even terrorizes, and now, flirts with, the dog.

Everything is a, “Toy, Daddy!  Toy!” – a shell from the terrarium, the wife’s wooden, tatting-decorated pill-box, aSDC11016 crocheted cup-holder.  The floor is littered with cat toys, but she always seems to find something else.

What did the old grump ever do without her, and what did she do without all of us?  Who could resist a face like that?

Next time, I’ll tell you about our immovable object, boy-cat, Tonka.

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Father Murphy

The Fundraising Problems Of Father Murphy

Father Murphy was a priest in a very poor parish.  He asked for suggestions about how to raise money for his church.  He was told that racehorses made money for their owners, so he went to a horse auction, but he made a very poor buy.  The horse he bought turned out to be a “Donkey.”

However, he thought he might as well enter the donkey in a race.  The donkey came in third, and the next morning, the headline in the paper read,

“Father Murphy’s Ass Shows”

The Archbishop saw the paper, and was displeased.  The next day, the donkey came in first, and the headline read,

“Father Murphy’s Ass Out In Front.”

The Archbishop was up in arms, and figured something had to be done.  Father Murphy had entered the donkey in a third race, and it came in second.  Now the headline read,

“Father Murphy’s Ass Back In Place.”

The Archbishop thought that this was too much, so he forbade the priest to enter the donkey in any more races, which inspired the editor to write,

“Archbishop Scratches Father Murphy’s Ass.”

When the Archbishop read this, he ordered Father Murphy to get rid of the donkey.  He was unable to sell it, so he gave it to Sister Agatha for a pet.  Now the headlines read,

“Nun Owns Best Ass In Town.”

The Archbishop read this and immediately ordered Sister Agatha to dispose of the animal.  She managed to sell it for $10.00.  The next day, the headline read,

“Sister Agatha Peddles Her Ass For $10.”

They buried the Archbishop three days later.

 

Royal Babysitters

Once upon a time, long, long ago, and far, far away in a distant country, lived a great and powerful ruler, named a Shah.  He lived on a gloriously beautiful palace with his beloved wife, who was the Shahnee, and his only child, a handsome boy, known as the Shan.

The Shah loved his little son very much, and tried to protect him as much as possible.  The Shan was subject to small fits, or seizures, and had been known to fall down and hurt himself.  So the Shah hired two strong, alert, intelligent guards to go with the Shan wherever he went, to protect him from all dangers, and to be there when the Shan had an attack, to keep him from falling and hurting himself.

One day though, a minor catastrophe occurred.  The Shan, now approaching manhood, had become interested in pretty girls, and went to a club, to watch the dancers, and talk to them.  While he was engaged in conversation, the two guards became distracted by a couple of pieces of feminine pulchritude, and were not near when the Shan had an attack, and fell down a short flight of stairs, breaking his arm.

After leaving his son with the doctor, the Shah called the two guards, to question them as to where they had been at the time of the accident, and why they had not prevented the Shan’s fall and injury, as they should have.  He ranted and raved, and yelled at them, and threatened them with dire punishments, and finally screamed at them, “Just where were you, when the fit hit the Shan??!”

 

Smart Feller

The vain person is one who loves the smell of his own farts.

The amiable person is one who loves the smell of other people’s farts.

The proud person thinks his farts are exceptionally fine.

The shy person releases silent farts, and then blushes.

The impudent person boldly farts out loud, and then laughs.

The scientific person is one who farts regularly, but is concerned about pollution.

The unfortunate person tries hard to fart, but shits himself, instead.

The nervous person is one who stops in the middle of a fart.

The honest person admits he has farted, but offers a good medical reason.

The dishonest person is one who farts, and then blames the dog.

The foolish person suppresses a fart for hours and hours.

The thrifty person always has several farts in reserve.

The anti-social person excuses himself, and farts in complete privacy.

The strategic person conceals his farts with loud laughter.

The sadistic person farts in bed, and then pulls the covers over his bedmate.

The intellectual person can determine from the smell of his neighbor’s farts, precisely the latest food consumed.

The athletic person farts at the slightest exertion.

The miserable person would truly love to, but can’t fart at all.

The sensitive person is one who farts, and then starts crying.

 

Which Came First, The Chicken Or The Egg?

A newly hatched chick asked his mother, “Am I people?”  No, you are chicken!  Do chickens come from people?  No, chickens come from eggs.  Do people come from eggs?  No, people are born.  Are eggs born?  No, eggs are laid.  Are people ever laid?  Some are; others are chicken!!    😕

Some Religious Thoughts

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?” – Epicurus circa 300 BCE

I’ve heard of Christians evolving into Atheists.  Is that possible?

What Would Jesus Do?

Teacher: And remember, boys and girls; always ask yourself ‘What would Jesus do?’

Student #1: Make my friends drink my blood, like a vampire?

Teacher: What?

Student #2: And eat my flesh, like a cannibal?!

Teacher: Wait –

Student #3: Vilify my own people?

Teacher: Now, hold on –

Student #4: Condone slavery? Jesus condoned slavery.

Teacher: Hang on. What I mean is –

Student #5: Rebel against authority and wind up being executed?

Teacher: Look, it’s not about –

Student #6: I have an uncle called Jesus.

Teacher: Oh… Okay…?

Student #6: He sells drugs in Mexico.

Teacher: Forget it.

Ten Reasons Why Gay Marriage Is Wrong

Being gay is not natural – because Americans always reject un-natural things, like eyeglasses, polyester and air-conditioning.

Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay – in the same way hanging around tall people encourages them to be tall.

Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior.  People will even want to marry their pets – because a dog has legal standing, and can sign a marriage contract.

Straight marriage has been around for a long time, and hasn’t changed at all – women are still property, blacks can’t marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.

Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage were allowed – the sanctity of Brittany Spears’ 55 hour, just-for-fun marriage, and Larry King’s 10 weddings will be destroyed.

Straight marriages are valid because they produce children – gay couples, infertile couples and seniors should not be allowed to marry – because our orphanages aren’t full yet, and the world needs more children.

Gay parents will obviously raise gay children – because straight parents raise only straight children.

Gay marriage is not supported by religion.  In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are inflicted on the entire nation.  That’s why we have only one religion in the world.

Children can only succeed if there is a male and a female role model in the home – that’s why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to raise kids.

Gay marriage will change the foundation of society – we could never adapt to new social norms, like we failed to adapt to cars, the service-sector economy and longer life-spans.

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During the recent flooding in Alberta, a man took refuge from the rising water on the roof of his house.  A guy in a canoe came along and asked him if he wanted a ride.  He said No, that he was a good Christian, who believed that God would save him.  As the flood waters rose, two men in a motorboat came by and offered to rescue him.  Again, he stated his faith in God, and waved them on their way.

With the waters lapping at the eaves of his house, a helicopter flew over.  He told them to look for others, because he was sure that God would spare him.  Of course, he was swept to his death.

When he arrived at Heaven, he had the audacity to castigate God Himself.  “I believed in You.  I’ve been a good and obedient Christian.  How could You abandon me, and let me die??”  All-forgiving God quietly replied, “I sent you a canoe, a motorboat, and a helicopter.  What more did you wish Me to do?”

The reality is, that’s not really a joke!

The 10 Commandments: A Parody Written in 3 minutes

1. Thou shalt have no other gods before me… Because you know, I, God, am a jealous little controlling psychopath. 

2. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image… But if you must, please, Instagram that shit. 

3. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain… Jesus Fucking Christ, do I really need to be telling you idiotic cows this? 

4. Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy… Unless the football game is on, then fuck it! 

5. Honour thy father and thy mother… because you ruined their sex life the moment you were conceived.

6. Thou shalt not kill… Only I, the Almighty, can do that – especially the homos, kill the bum boys! 

7. Thou shalt not commit adultery… But by all means, take a few wives, heck, chain the bitches up and call them “concubines”. 

8. Thou shalt not steal… because stealing a loaf of bread is worst than rape, which is absolutely fine by the way. 

9. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour… Once again, this neighbour shit is way more important than rape and pedophilia.

10. Thou shalt not covet… because you can see, but you can’t touch. 😉

Good Intentions, Misguided Planning

A family of five left Arizona, moved to San Diego, bought a sailboat, and got into trouble on the high seas.  Now, I can think of a couple of places where the average knowledge about sailing would be lower than Arizona.

Two, thirtyish parents, a 3 year-old girl, his father, and she gave birth to another daughter while they spent 91 days, without setting foot on land.  Not members of any denomination, they described themselves as “good Christians”, who didn’t believe in abortion and homosexuality in  ”the state-controlled church.”

Storms damaged their boat, and blew it off course – off almost anybody’s course.  They drifted for weeks, and were rescued by the helicopter of a Venezuelan fishing boat, where they spent five days, before being transferred to a Japanese cargo vessel, where they spent another three weeks, before landing in Chile.

They had “decided to take a leap of faith, and see where God took us.”  God gave them a slap up-side the head, for endangering themselves and others, including two tiny children, and put them back where they belonged, in Arizona.  Do they accept God’s guidance and care, and their own stupidity, and blind arrogance?  Yeah, right!  Now they talk of having to “come up with a new plan.”

Serious comments only please!  I am not attacking or vilifying.  I wish discussion, not a flamewar.  If you are angry, you’re not thinking, only reacting, and probably with someone else’s opinion.  Respectful disagreement is welcomed, but prove your point.

Book Review #3

This will be a review of Lee Child’s third Jack Reacher novel.  I will do reviews of books other than the Reacher set, I promise.  It’s just that I’ve reached the point in life where I have no need or desire to better my brain, or learn anything.  I read just for fun, and to pass the time.  Many years ago, I kidded the wife about the “Nurse Jane” romance novels she read.  As the son grew up, in his desperation to read anything, he got hooked on several of these series.  Now I denigrate them at my peril.

Both the romantic novels, and my men’s adventure books are one short step up from comic books, and are hardly serious enough prose to base a review on.  They’re not a complete waste of time though.  A surprising number of crossword and Jeopardy answers can be found in their gossamer plots.

The Author – Lee Child

The Book – Tripwire

The Review

Before he died of cancer, the old General who trained Reacher as an MP, started an investigation.  People are dying because a scam-artist from the Viet Nam war still doesn’t want to be found after 30 years, and the General’s daughter is in danger.

I don’t go looking for mistakes, but I’m observant enough that I often find them, especially in print.  Reacher starts the book with two jobs in Key West.  To protect the girl, he needs to get to New York soonest, so he has a stripper drive him in her Porsche to the Miami airport, in the middle of the night.  The book says, the only time she slowed to under 100 MPH, was when she went across the causeway to the mainland.

I drove out to Key West and back once.  It’s a hundred miles of on and off tiny islands, and through small towns, on a narrow, two-lane road, smaller than some English country lanes.  Average speed was about 40 MPH.  To try it at a hundred, almost guarantees that someone dies, and what for?  Why not fly out of the Key West airport?  There are 58 flights to NYC a day, 47 of them direct flights, starting at 7:55 AM.

It gave Reacher a chance to do some role-playing disguise.  If you strut up to the desk at Miami, and buy a one-way ticket with cash, you will be stopped and questioned by police about drug-smuggling.  Reacher looked poor, and non-threatening.

I began to wonder if Lee Child was being paid off for product placement by General Motors.  The heroine drove an Oldsmobile Bravada SUV.  The two contract killers drove either a Chevy Yukon, or a GMC Tahoe.  Child knows that they are the same vehicle, except for badging, but, being a Brit, he called them all Jeeps.

British word-usage was endemic through the book.  The heroine wore trousers instead of slacks or pants.  The missing man studied accountancy, not accounting, and had a passing-out ceremony instead of a graduation.  That sounds like a university party, or an old Victor Borge skit.  Everyone carried mobiles instead of cell phones.  I felt almost at home as Child described a road in New York City which changed names four times as it traveled from one borough, into the next.

In this book, Child seems to have a real fixation on the Hudson River.  He has the General’s home directly across it from West Point, and an old couple’s house 30 miles further up-river.  Three times in one chapter, he has someone approach it and note, “A mile-wide hush in the forest ahead.”  Come on, this isn’t the Mighty Mississippi.  It’s the Hudson, a hundred miles from the mouth; you can almost skip a stone across.

Child often provides a plethora of descriptive detail, usually right where you don’t need it.  When Reacher visited the old couple, Child listed all kinds of flowers, shrubs and trees.  He described a once-wide walkway, now reduced to a narrow trail through the overgrowing bushes.  I looked out my back window at plants the wife and I spent ten years planting, and getting to grow, but now don’t have the time or strength to uproot, or trim back.

This is just an eBook problem.  I was reading, and Reacher passed a homeless bum, but I saw it as burn.  I chalked it up to old eyes, until I saw the word again in the next chapter.  There it was again, burn, not bum.  Kobo has a feature where you can just tap a word on the screen, and it will give you a dictionary meaning.  Sure enough, it defined “BURN.”

Drug dealers in NYC use any gun they can get their hands on, usually obtained through break-ins and theft.  Reacher took down a lookout, a guard and a dealer, to get a handgun, all while he waited for a pizza.  The lookout had a Chinese .22 caliber semi-automatic pistol – odd, but possible in the Big Apple.  The guard had a .38 caliber revolver, which Child had Reacher throw away, because he had been told that they had no stopping power.

Child armed the drug dealer with a 9 MM Steyr GB, rare and expensive even in Europe, their home, but even more rare and expensive in New York.  I guess burglars can’t be choosers.  Later, the evil genius pulled out his handgun and pointed it at our damsel-in-distress.  Child has her describe it as “flat black, but shiny, bedewed with droplets of oil.”  “Flat black” means it has a non-rust coating, and doesn’t need to be oiled on the outside.  That much oil would foul clothing and/or the holster, causing the gun to fall out, and might make it nigh-impossible to hold.

He later reached into his pocket and removed a 1 inch diameter roll of duct tape, with perhaps five yards left on it.  Sounds like more British goods.  Every roll I’ve seen in North America has a 3 inch core.  This book was written in 1997, and Child has Reacher go to an Army Forensic Anthropologist, to absolutely identify the bones of returned Viet Nam MIAs.  This was just as Kathy Reichs was getting started as a writer.  I wonder, which came first, the Chicken-Colonel, or the Bones?

In the end, Reacher jumps in front of one of those puny .38s, and takes a hit, to save the damsel.  He wakes up in the hospital to be told that the powerful pectoral muscles over his sternum stopped the bullet.  There are no muscles over the sternum, and, if there were, they wouldn’t stop a .38 at eight feet.

While these books are as much fun as the drivel I won’t show you, I have trouble with the suspension of disbelief, and had hoped for a little more precision, and fewer plot holes.

I Wish You Hadn’t Said That

Being a rant about the things that people write without thinking, mostly, but not entirely, incorrect homonyms.  Crossword puzzles still irk me when the creators don’t really know what they’re talking about.  The Canadian province Alberta, can be rendered AB, Alt. or Alta, but not Alba.  That’s another name for Scotland.

“Refrain from” does not mean cease.  Refrain means not doing something.  Cease means you’re already doing it and must stop.  A video was titled “crazy way to tow a bus”, and showed it being pushed.  Towed means being pulled.  Pushed means not being towed.

Connotation vs. denotation means, what people think things mean, instead of what they really do mean.  Often secondary meanings become so common that the original gets lost.  If I were hungry, I might be a little testy, but peckish means hungry, not testy.  I get a bit testy when people don’t know that.

Ordinary folk using the wrong word is common, but it especially irks me when someone who really should know, doesn’t.  Probably not old enough to remember wringer washing-machines, the female leader of a Provincial political party claimed that, “The Liberals are putting us through the ringer.”  What a ding-a-ling.

The editor of an on-line publishing company got rid of a troublesome client, and wrote, “Good riddens to bad rubbish.” apparently not knowing the existence of the word riddance, and that riddens is not a word in English.

A successful author’s character, “Reloaded his weapons, and checked his partner’s ordinance.”  There’s a law against that, because weaponry is ordnance.  This man has three university degrees, works for NASA, and has six successful books – just not a publisher with a proof-reader.

“Grant shirked back into his leather duster” and the author shirked his duty to discover that the correct word is shucked – to remove from, or in this case, return to, an outer covering.

“I’m not the kind of mother who pawns her children off.”  I didn’t know you could get money for the little ba….bies.  She should use some to catch a magic show.  Closely watching a card trick will show you how the performer palms the card.

For all intensive purposes – or, for all intense and purposes.  My intents (intentions) and purpose is to remind people to think about the correct word.

I despair of ever having the general public correctly use the forms of lie and lay.  Misusage is endemic in newspapers, and on TV.  “Danny DeVito and his wife laid low.”  If you are “laid low” you’re dead.  Lay requires a noun to perform its action on.  Lie doesn’t.  You can lie down, and lay your head on a pillow.  You can lay your mistress, and lie to your wife about it.

I am sadly amused by those who are illiterate enough to not know that the word segue is pronounced seg-way, but have the arrogance to “correct” it by writing segue-way.  I mentioned it to the great Edward Hotspur when he did it, and was promptly run over by his turbo-charged ego.

We go back to the pawnshop for the story of a young man and woman who hocked their virginity online.  In aggressively promoting something for sale, they hawked the product.  A businessman offered Brittany Spears $2 million for her virginity.  This gal got $68,000!  The guy just got a lot of people shaking their heads.

A man who’s reputation preceded him should have thought, damn it, if it has an apostrophe, it’s an abbreviation.  Whose yer English teacher?

A woman wanted to sell an original addition of War and Peace.  Damn, it’s long enough already!  Why would you want to increase it?  Another genius wanted to sell a Star Wars action figure – Job of the Hut.  I thought nerds could read and write.

They failed to chalk the truck in place, after arriving early to get a good birth on the ferry, and its parking breaks failed.  This author/book must take some sort of prize for having the most mistakes in one sentence.  I’m sure you already know, but the correct words are chock, berth, and brakes.

After seen the video, or, I seen the video.  One wrong word taking the places of both seeing, and saw.

He hit one out of the part.  What!!?  Let’s hope that was just a baseball typo.

It meant that, simply foot…  Simply put, I don’t even want to know what the author thought the word foot meant in that context, oh damn, that thought word again.

For sale – radio arm saw.  I wonder if it’s AM/FM.  I have a bionic shoulder.  What’s a radio arm?

Don’t say anymore, the game’s a foot, just proves that two words don’t mean the same as a single compound word.  Allot means to divide, or portion out.  I see that a lotAlot is a lot closer, but still not proper English.

It is not a case and point.  It is a case in point, in case no-one pointed that out.  And it’s neck and neck, side by side, not neck in neck, which is impossible.  Think damn it!

A palace spokesman changed his tact.  If he’d been a sailor, he’d have correctly changed his tack.

There was wed paint on the rod iron railing.  I know you got the wet paint.  Did you know the railing was wrought iron?  Hogs get into chicken coups…and cause double entenders.  Hey, if you can’t handle English, stay away from French or someone could get hurt.

The wing snapped off the plane, and it augured into the ground.  Well, I could have foretold that.  The spirally thing you’re vaguely thinking of, is an auger.  While we’re talking about machine-tools, she wore a fancy broach on her lapel.  Not my Mom, she wore a brooch.

For better or words, (Ow! Ow! Ow!) that’s all my rants for this time.  Come back soon and I’ll tell you a funny story.

I Get The Picture

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About the middle of August, we got two violent windstorms within a week.  Not hurricane   quality like KayJai received, but nasty.  The second, especially, had downdraft winds which snapped branches and trees in LadyRyl’s neighborhood.  These shots are of a 100-year-old willow, beside the creek, in front of her complex.

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A couple of blocks away, this big maple beside the road was snapped off about 8 feet up.  After cutting it up for giveaway firewood, the artistic homeowner turned the remains into an eagle.

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When I went to pick up Granma LadyBug, after her nose surgery, I spotted this sign….Pick her up??  Or have a beer and pizza??  I’d like to claim that I did the honorable thing, but the truth is, I’m too broke to be naughty.

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LadyRyl took a couple of shots of the knapped agate knife she bought at the pow-wow.  Not SDC10469much difference, but one is the front, and the other, of course, is the back.

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At the same pow-wow, the grandson bought a cool smudge fan to be used to move sage-smoke, or incense around – no hemp!  Can’t even spell hemp!

The only Segway owner/rider in the Region, and possibly all of Southern Ontario, apparently lives near enough that he shops at EuroFood, my favorite little deli.  Since he was only going to be inside “for just a couple of minutes”, he left the key in it.  If a Segway key is like the key for the daughter’s power wheelchair, it’s only a stereo-cord plug.  You could ride away with it while listening to music on your headphones.

Didn’t matter!  Apparently two teenage boys just lifted it up and carried it off.  Two words, fool – Bike! Lock!  I was going to scan in the newspaper picture of him in his gay little bicycle helmet, but if you want a photo of a clueless guy looking lost, my gravatar is still available.  He’s 62, and the old-boy genius liked to ride around on his Segway with a clown nose, or Oktoberfest lederhosen, with a bright feather in his helmet.  I don’t want to picture either of those. Ew, ew, ew!

U.S. Senator Ted Cruz, from Texas, is probably more responsible than any other individual for the government shutdown.  He recently stood and spoke about nothing for 22 hours, (Sorry for the redundancy.) trying to prevent the passage of Obama’s Health Care bill.  Sarah Palin says she supports him.  She’s always liked him since he was in the movie Top Gun.

He’s a member of a political party which has been bitching for years, that Barack shouldn’t be president, because he wasn’t born in the U.S., and now he wants to run for president himself, in 2016.  The biggest problem with that, is that he is a poutine-eating, Maple syrup-sucking Canadian!  Sshh, don’t tell him.  While his mother was a US citizen, his father was from Cuba, and he was born in a hospital in Calgary, while his dad worked in the (Canadian) oil industry.

While the US government may consider him a citizen, his birth certificate makes him a Canadian.  He has thundered to the press that he will renounce his Canadian-ness, and claims, “I’m an American by birth.”  So sad, dad!  Tough luck Chuck!  The boundaries of his egotistical imagination do not match up with reality.

At least Barack eventually provided an American birth certificate.  After this little revelation, I can’t picture him even being allowed to run for president.  I would like a picture of his face when he finds out that, for all his ugly-American jingoism, the rules include him out.

Did you like our pictures?  We’re practicing for some upcoming posts with photos in them.  Kittens anyone??    😀

Say What?

I keep bitching about precision of language usage, saying what you mean, and meaning what you say.  Have you mastered the art of effective communication?  The following are excerpts from actual letters received by Welfare Departments, asking for support.

I am forwarding my marriage certificate and six children.  I have seven children, but one died which was baptised on a half sheet of paper.

Mrs. Jones has not had any clothes for a year, and has been regularly visited by the clergy.

I am glad to report that my husband who is missing is dead.

I want my money as quick as I can get it.  I’ve been in bed with the doctor for two weeks and he doesn’t do me any good.  If things don’t improve, I will have to send for another doctor.

In accordance with your instructions, I have given birth to twins in the enclosed envelope.

My husband got his project cut off two weeks ago, and I haven’t had any relief since.

Unless I get my husband’s money pretty soon, I will be forced to live an immortal life.

I am forwarding my marriage certificate and three children, one of which is a mistake as you can see.

This is my eighth child.  What are you going to do about it?

You have changed my little boy to a girl.  Will this make any difference?

In answer to your letter, I have given birth to a boy weighing ten pounds.  I hope this is satisfactory.

I cannot get sick pay.  I have six children.  Can you tell me why?

Please find out for certain if my husband is dead.  The man I am now living with can’t eat or do anything until he knows.

 

This Is His Life

 

From 20 to 30 – If a man lives right, it’s once in the morning and twice at night.

From 30 to 40 – If he still lives right, he misses a morning, and sometimes at night.

From 40 to 50 – It’s just now and then.

From 50 to 60 – Its God knows when.

From 60 to 70 – If he’s still inclined, but don’t let him kid you.  It’s still on his mind.

His sporting days are over, his little light is out.

What used to be his sex appeal, is now his water spout.

It used to be embarrassing to make the thing behave.

For nearly every morning, it stood and watched him shave.

But now it’s getting older, and it sure gives him the blues,

To have it dangling down his legs, and watch him clean his shoes.

 

Cucumbers Are Better Than Men, Because:

 

The average cucumber is AT LEAST six inches long.

Cucumbers stay hard for a week.

A cucumber won’t get TOO excited.

A cucumber never suffers from performance anxiety.

Cucumbers are easy to pick up.

You can eat a cucumber when YOU feel like it.

A cucumber doesn’t care if you’re a virgin.

Cucumbers won’t ask:  Am I the best?  How was it?  Did you come?  How many times?

No matter how old you are, you can always get a fresh cucumber.

A cucumber won’t pout if you have a headache.

With a cucumber, you never have to say you’re sorry.

A cucumber will never leave you for another woman.

You always know where your cucumber has been.

Cucumbers don’t leave you wondering for a month.

It’s easy to drop a cucumber.

No matter how you slice it, you can have your cuke, and eat it too!!