Fibbing Friday – V

I’m not saying it’s her fault.  I’m just saying that I’m blaming her.  With the reluctant agreement of Pensitivity101, here’s another list of questions looking for entertaining answers.

  1. What is a skiff?
    A skiff is a lie that Environment Canada tells us. We’ll have a skiff of snow overnight. Meanwhile, I’ve still got six inches of yesterday’s ‘partly cloudy’ to shovel off the driveway.


2. What is a liner?

Liner is the stuff that drag-queen, RuPaul, paints on above his eyes, to confuse naïve, Radar O’Reilly-like corn-huskers who didn’t get to watch the ‘Crocodile Dundee’ movie in sex-education class.
3. What is a ferry?

See above – if you don’t already have your hands over your eyes.
4. What is a destroyer?

It’s a fat, arrogant, French-Canadian, wearing a Speedo, at any of the beaches in the southern United States.  Talk about having your hands over your eyes….  😳  Smoking like it’s mandatory, always complaining about some nit-picky detail, getting regular treatment and attention, but always demanding more – and in difficult-to-understand, heavily accented English.  COVID has been a boon to the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida.  If that hadn’t occurred, Americans might have re-elected Trump, just to demand that he build a wall across the Quebec/US border.
5. What is a cruiser?

It’s a guy like my co-worker, Bob.  If you’re not going to have sex, you might as well get married, and not have it at home.  I think he has eye problems, or maybe ‘I’ problems.  There is not enough tequila in any bar, to drink this man sexually attractive.  He’s been turned down more times than the beds at Holiday Inn – and probably by the same women.  He said that he was thinking of signing up for the Bill Cosby School of Charm.  😈
6. What is a galleon?

A galleon is what I used to have someone else pump into my car to make it go, back before we went metric.  I lost Imperial measurement, but apparently gained an unpaid job of pumping my own gas.  It’s been 40 years, and I still don’t know how much I put in.  I just know it costs more.

When things go metric, prices rise.
Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise!!
7. What is a pedlow?

Any one of a disturbing, disgusting group of Catholic priests who think that ‘pump-organ’ is not what the church music director plays.  They mistakenly believe that they are school teachers, and if sex education of altar-boys and choir girls is not on the curriculum, it’s on the agenda.
8. What is a kayak?

A kayak is an Eskimo sport-ute.  It’s what the Inuit use in the drive-thru at the Aklavik Tim Horton’s.  They have to be careful to hold the hot coffee with one hand in their fur-lined mitten, while they paddle away with the other.  Most kayaks are not yet fitted with cup-holders, and they can’t just set it down on any ice-floe, because it will melt right through.
9. What is a schooner?

As the most interesting man in the world, I don’t always drink beer, but when I do, I want a king-can of dark ale in a schooner fresh from the fridge or freezer.  In my tourist haven home-town, where I first drank draught/draft beer, it was served cold!  That’s what I got used to.

I once met a man from Kitchener, ON, my current home, who claimed to have conducted a scientific experiment.  He drank beer at every watering hole from here to Tobermory, 3-1/2 hours drive, at the tip of the Bruce Peninsula.  He claimed that the hotel bar in my home town served the coldest beer.  Much as I’d like to, I’ll never get the chance to visit England/Scotland, and try some great, but warm, beer.
10. What is a coracle?

She was a fortune-teller who lived in the Temple of Apollo, near the city of Delphi, in ancient Greece.  She was known as the coracle of Delphi.  The temple is a ruin now, but even back then, it had a leak in the basement.  It was built over a volcanic vent, where hot gases filtered up through a layer of soil containing crude oil.

She would sit on a stool over the vent, inhaling the fumes and chewing a laurel leaf – which was mildly psychoactive – like an Hellenic Eight-ball.  It was sort of like modern kids who huff model glue, or propane.  Then she would make crystal-clear, absolutely true predictions, like – If you drive a Jeep Rubicon, and vote for Trump, a great empire will fall.

Actually, there was a whole string of these coracles, like a tiny temporal armada – because constantly perching on a hot petroleum spill gave them the average life expectancy of a Madame Curie.  😯

TILWROT II

Take me out of the ball game.

In the early 1960’s, before I arrived in this burgh, interest in, and support for, Junior, City-League Baseball was waning.  One local team felt that they needed $10,000, a considerable sum, to pay for a year’s uniforms, equipment and transportation costs, and no sponsors were coming forward.

One 16-year-old, baseball-crazy boy had an idea.  He would sit on a 6’ X 6’ platform on top of a 50 foot flagpole in the ball park, until the amount was raised.  He lasted three days, until unexplained stomach pains caused the same fire crew and ladder truck that put him up, to lower him down again.  His almost-feat was recently recounted in the ‘Flash From The Past’ history column in a Saturday newspaper.  His name was Ken Fryfogel.

Things I Learned While Researching Other Things – Act 2 – Fryfogel

The name Fryfogel is very uncommon.  Ancestry.com only has 298 listed in North America.  The unnumbered few in Canada are all in Ontario, and I suspect, most right here in Southwestern Ontario.  I decided to research.

Fryfogel appears to be a Germanic name, like Vogel – which is a bird, or Logel – who was a cooper.  Surname-meaning websites just shrugged.  I tried a translation website, but got nothing.  I tried changing the spelling from ‘el’ to ‘le.’  I tried pulling it apart, into Fry, and fogel – nothing.  I tried entering ‘fogel’ into a dictionary site.  I got, No listing for ‘fogel.’  Did you mean fodgel?’

I don’t know.  Do I??!  I’ve never run into the word.  What does it mean?   Yorkshire/Scottish dialect – a short, fat person-by extension, a fat hen.  So, a Fryfogel is someone who cooks up a big fat chicken.  Twenty miles from here, at the intersection of a concession road and the highway, halfway to Justin Bieber’s ex-home, stands the historic, 200-year-old Fryfogel Inn.  😎  What better name for an innkeeper than one that says that he’ll serve you up some fried chicken along with your ale?

I’ll be serving up some more interesting drivel in a couple of days.  Hope to see you then.  😀

Bread And Water

AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION

By reading this post, you are sentenced to eat whatever you had at your last meal, for the next 14 days.

What was it?
Ignoring the calories, can you take it for two weeks?
Did you like it?
Do you wish that you had read this yesterday?
Or tomorrow?
Do you regret having lunch at Harry’s Hot-Dog Stand?

I had baked bone-in ham, scalloped potatoes, buttered green beans, broccoli salad, and a warm, deep-dish brownie with coconut-flavored whipped cream on top.  It’s a good thing that I didn’t discover this prompt the day before I did, when we had beef and bean burritos.  I could have put Alberta out of the natural gas business.  😯

It was a delicious meal, I loved it, and I could eat it every day for two weeks, but variety is the spice of life, and I love a variety of well-spiced foods.

“Tomorrow” was a Monday.  We have fallen into the habit of having the same type of food, each separate day of the week.  Monday would have been breakfast for supper – bacon or sausage, and eggs of some sort – oatmeal and toast.  There are a lot of combinations.  I can take it every Monday, but I think that I’d tire of it quickly, 14 consecutive days.  😳

never regret eating at the hot-dog stand.  I never get a hot-dog.  I could eat good French-fries 14 days in a row, if it weren’t for the wife’s Imperial Edict of ‘only once a week.‘  Damn the cholesterol!  Full fries ahead.  I’m pretty sure I could survive being sentenced to two weeks at Taco Bell, but, while places like Bar Burrito, and Quesada are filling, they’re not fun.

I have to wipe the grease off my fingers, and go visit Rochelle’s site to see if I can write a Flash Fiction while I’m this full.  Stop back Friday to find out.  Oh – and has anyone got some malt vinegar you could spare??   😉

Don’t Talk To Me That Way

Where, once again, people whose level of literacy is limited to making an X, to vote for Trump, show what happens when you sleep through English class.  Our poor language, so battered and bruised??!  😯

Pros

Area light, held anywhere with a suction cob – Have another cup of whatever you’re drinking

It liked Christmas to lewd acts – Really, it likened pretension to illiteracy.

Catch lightening in a bottle – Only if it’s a Miss Clairol bottle

10 of which are located in Canada — five in Ontario, four in Alberta and one each in British Columbia and Saskatchewan. – Your school called.  It wants its math diploma back.

Electrical interference is omitted from an appliance – You could have omitted that, and used emitted instead.

Man fined for trying to fry chicken in Yellowstone hot spring – Well, I’m boiling mad about that.

I’d like to formerly address some issues – like, it was formerly spelled formally.

Snow squeaked under the souls of their boots – Holy footwear that eats fish on Friday…. Soles

He actually had a conscious – if he’d been conscious, he’d know that it was a conscience.

I included the numbers for your class elbow – My one elbow thinks that it should be below.

Tea is a sorce of gossip – It’s also a source of laughter and pity.

An inherit quality of the cave – Something he got in the will, from his father, The Cavern.

She had a rockin’, taught bod – I was taught that it was spelled taut

They we’re banned from the show – We’re thinking that they probably were.

Amateurs

I was airing on the side of Christianity – You should be erring on the side of correct English.

After a day of frockling around – I hope they were frolicking near a dictionary.

We our meant to be – We meant to say, are.

I sat out to write a story – Since you’re seated, use set.

I would part take of Communion – Soooo close – but no wafer to partake of

In this day-in-age the government – says, ‘In this day and age.’

Girl apholds American flag – and I uphold the right to spell it correctly
This one particularly irks me, because ‘upholds’ does not mean the same thing as ‘holds up.’  The photo of the girl with the flag was on the facing page, and the picture with this caption was a family picnicking in a park.  😯

Within a year in a half – she found that she should have written and.

The computer geek had a LAN line – that all the duct cleaners would land on

Put a parsley spring on top – of one too many Ns, and one too few proofreads

The great thing about homemade canned food – is the taste of cognitive dissonance.
Lest anyone think homemade pickles or jam…. This was a pot of chili for dinner.

Pain staking patience – staking might cause pain, until they discover painstaking = pains taking

Grab their phone and begin discretely searching – For the word discreetly.

Swair there alligensecne – I swear their spelling is shitty, no matter what their allegiance.

That old so-in-so – prefers to be called a so-and-so.
(That’s 3 of those don’t-see-‘n-says.)

He grabbed first prise – but it wasn’t a prize for correct spelling

Atheism has a negative tenant – he’s probably out, looking up ‘tenet.’

If God is a fickle of my imagination – He’s probably looking up ‘figment too.’

Wearing ten-gallon hats and stirrups – Pretty sure he meant spursStirrups are saddle parts.

The Government has done an admiral job – In general, it’s an admirable job

What can I say about that faithful day – You could say that it was fateful.

A belief froth with problems – Take your beer with a head on it over to look up fraught.

Rub salt in a womb – That adage rubbed me the wrong way, and caused a wound.

It took escaping a cult to make me real-eyes – I realize that you probably failed kindergarten.

’21 A To Z Challenge – A

April’s First Challenge Post – And So It Begins.

Here’s a word that dictionaries insist doesn’t exist – but really should.

ASSHOLERY

There’s something about the X-Y chromosome that fouls many males up.  They don’t know whether they’re coming or going, so it applies mostly to boys (of all ages), although some of the fairer sex qualify.

A nearby 19-year-old was caught doing 221 Kmh in a 100 Kmh zone.  He was late for a Darwin Awards presentation.  Daddy’s Lexus was impounded for a week, and the repair bill for an overstressed engine might be as much as the hefty fines and impound fees.

A local man went downtown, to deal with a department in City Hall.  When he came back out, he could not find his white Mercedes…. with his 4-year-old son in it.  😯  He called the police.  Within minutes – and a short walk – they located…. his wife’s red Jeep, and the child safe.  He has been charged, public intoxication, care and control of a vehicle while impaired, driving over .08 (local alcohol limit), and endangering a child.  His wife is gonna be thrilled!

A man in Toronto duplexed his house.  His upstairs tenant called 9-1-1 because a carbon monoxide detector kept squealing.  Three-tiered response – police, fire and EMT – discovered 100 pounds of carfentanil, 31 pistols and two “rifles”, although one of them was a Tech-9, like the one above.  More an overgrown handgun, than a real rifle.

If guys like this had any real brains, they’d have a real job.  If you’re gonna do something that creates carbon monoxide – stop doing it – ventilate the area – disconnect the detector!  Duh!!  🙄

Donald Trump still insists that he won the 2020 election.  Of course, he also insists that he has more Grammys than Beyoncé.  Women have to own some of this assholery, because far too many of them voted for Trump, and also for Canada’s wunderkind pretty-boy Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau.  They’re the answer to Kojak’s question, “Who loves ya, baby?”

Flash Fiction #252

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

COLD ENOUGH FOR YOU?

We should just take over Canada, like a 14th Colony.  Then we wouldn’t have to worry about them exporting oil to us.

Are you nuts??!  Then we’d have to install hot-air ducts up there.  I don’t know how they survive.  Summer is the first week of August.  I had to go to a place called Moosejaw.  It made Minnesota look like a sauna.  I just kept driving south until the wind didn’t hurt my face anymore.

Just let them be hewers of wood, and drawers of water oil.  They’re polite but rustic, and a bit naïve.  Biden will handle them.

***

Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

Social Medium Humor

People say to me, Archon, Facebook is a good way to connect with old friends.
At my age, if I want to connect with old friends, I need a Ouija Board

***

My doctor gave me three days to give up drinking.  So I picked June the fifth, July 17, and October 9.
I enjoy a glass of wine each night for its health benefits.  The other ones are for my witty comebacks and smooth dance moves.  I’ve stopped drinking for good.  Now I only drink for evil.

***

Don’t bother walking a mile in my shoes; that would be boring.  Spend 30 seconds inside my head; that’ll freak you right out.

***

My wife left for work this morning, and almost immediately I got a call from my next door neighbour telling me to come around quick as she needed my help.

So, I knock on her door, and she opens the door in a robe and immediately drags me into the living room. She then drops the robe to reveal she is completely naked. As my mouth hangs open she says: “Everything you can see between my legs is yours”

Rubbing my hands in anticipation I drop to my knees and say: “Right, I’ll have your TV, Stereo, Coffee Table, sofa, fireplace…”

***

Heisenberg is pulled over by a Highway Patrolman

“Mister, do you know how fast you were going?” asks the cop.

“No,” replies Heisenberg.

“I clocked you at 87 miles per hour!” the cop exclaims.

Heisenberg sighs. “Great, now I don’t know where I am…”

***

A Canadian park ranger is giving some ramblers a warning about bears, “Brown bears are usually harmless. They avoid contact with humans so we suggest you attach small bells to your rucksacks and give the bears time to get out of your way. However, grizzly bears are extremely dangerous. If you see any grizzly-bear droppings leave the area immediately.”

“So how do we know if they’re grizzly bear droppings?” asks one of the ramblers.

“It’s easy,” replies the ranger. “They’re full of small bells.”

***

A 7 year old boy is sitting on a park bench, eating chocolate bars.
An old man next to him says, “Eating that much chocolate isn’t good for you.”
The boy replies, “My grandfather lived to 102.”
“Did he eat that much chocolate??”
“No! but he minded his own fucking business.”

***

A Hollywood producer calls his friend, another Hollywood producer, on the phone.

“Hey, how are you doing?” he asks.

“Well!” responds the friend. “I just sold a screenplay for $200,000. I also wrote a novel and got a $50,000 advance from the publisher. I have a new TV series airing next week, and everyone says it’s going to be a hit. I’m doing great! How are you?”

“OK,” says the first producer. “I’ll call you back when you’re alone.”

Food For More Thought

I was recently assaulted by a plate of French fries and gravy.
Well, you asked for it!!
Yes I did!  😀  😀  😎  🌯

On a recent Flash Fiction post about fast food, a reader commented, Canadians take French fries to the next level with gravy on top of them.’

Baby, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet!

….And then the French-Canadians taught us to put cheese curds or grated mozzarella on it and call it ‘poutine‘– English translation – heart attack in a bowl.  😳  It is now common across Canada.  Most Canadian outlets of American fast-food restaurants serve a version of it.  It’s a cheap, easy way to add protein for people too poor to afford much meat, or where dairy cows are common, but beef isn’t.

Then, there are Chili-fries.  The soupy, spicy meat mixture that is poured on wieners to make chili-dogs, is instead, poured on crisp French-fries.  Also pouring on the cheese sauce used to dip pretzels or nacho chips, makes them chili-cheese fries.  The further addition of sour cream and chopped green onions, peppers, and/or salsa, makes them Nacho fries, or All-Dressed.

A DIY version of this can be achieved at Wendy’s, by ordering a plate of fries, a cup of their chili, and asking for a container of the sour cream that they serve with their baked potatoes.

Newfoundland is Canada’s island, easternmost Province, separated from reality the rest of the country.  The population is known to be…. rustic.  😕  Someone(s) down there piled some leftover turkey-stuffing on top of fries and gravy, and created ‘Newfie Fries.’

Jobs are scarce on Newfoundland.  The young have spread themselves all across Canada seeking employment.  There are more Newfies in Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada’s oil capital, than are left in the province.  ‘Newfie Fries’, which can also include cooked peas, can be found wherever there are clots of Newfies.

There are several local chip-wagons – often a small Air-Stream trailer with no wheels – which list all these on the menu.  This includes a brick, stand-alone, drive-in that was once a Dairy Queen outlet.

55 years ago, when I arrived here, drive-ins were ‘the thing.’  There was an A&W Drive-in, well out from downtown, at the corner of what would become a ‘Golden Mile,’ and a north/south artery road.  I did not arrive early enough to see short-skirted waitresses on roller-skates delivering food to the cars.

Over the years, the public shunned drive-ins, and wanted sit-down outlets.  This drive-in disappeared, to become a strip mall, with a Money Mart, a Fed-Ex depot and a lube shop.  Back down the street, first, a McDonalds popped up.

A few years later, Burger King bought the land next door, and went head-to-head – or rather – drive-thru-to-drive-thru.  One day, when I was out with the son, he wanted McDonalds, and I wanted Burger King.  We got his order at Mickey D’s, and he surreptitiously entered Burger King through the drive-thru door, while I walked around, and ordered at the counter.

We thought that we had got away with it, but the manager approached us.  I feared that we would be kicked out, but he was very nice about it.  He said that he knew why we did what we had done, and he appreciated at least a portion of our business, only…. the clearly-marked McDonalds containers.  The cola was carefully poured into a Burger King cup, and the fries now rested on a Burger King tray.  The incriminating evidence was whisked into the garbage.

More years later, Burger King had organizational problems.  Six local outlets shrank to three, losing this nearby one, and completely obliterating one at the edge of the BIG mall at city’s edge, to become the depot for the new street railroad.

A&W bought the property, and opened a sit-down restaurant, directly across the street from where they once had a drive-in, a half a century ago.  Around the corner, on the side street, just past the Thai Pho bistro, sits the Canadian, Harvey’s  restaurant, whose parking lot abuts the back of both the McD’s, and the A&W.

It’s a good thing that my paltry Government retirement pension is so measly that it prevents regular patronage to all these all-too-common/handy eating establishments, but I think that it might be the ingestion of all the chemical preservatives over the years that has kept me alive and fit for so long.  If/when COVID disappears, and the border opens up again, I want to test that theory at a Sonic.  There’s one right down the road from Cordelia’s Mom’s.

’20 A To Z Challenge – Y

*

Here she is, ladies and gentlemen – this week’s featured artist, fresh from her tour of the Egotism Hilton, singing a medley of her greatest hit, ‘Here’s My Number, Call Me Maybe.’  or as the inattentive among us mondegreen, Here’s My Number, So Call Me Baby.   😯

CARLY RAE JEPSEN

That ain’t all we call you.  As the band Sugarloaf says in their song Don’t Call Us, We got your number when you walked through the door.  She joins a list of artists that Canadians have to apologize for inflicting on Americans, not quite beginning with William Shatner, but including Neil Yoda Young, Jim Carey, Celine Dion, Mike Meyers, Brent Butt, Alanis Morisette, Avril Lavigne, Mister Nickleback – Chad Kroeger, and Canada’s answer to McCauley Kulkin, Justin Bieber.

Carly Rae Jepsen (born November 21, 1985) is a Canadian singer, songwriter, and actress. Born and raised in Mission, British Columbia, Jepsen performed several lead roles in her high school’s musical productions and pursued musical theatre at the Canadian College of Performing Arts in Victoria, BC. After completing her studies, she relocated to Vancouver and later competed on the fifth season of Canadian Idol in 2007, placing third, in 2008.

Wait a minute!!?  The old eyes (and memory) aren’t what they used to be.  This post is supposed to be about a word beginning with the letter Y.  A heartfelt Canadian apology!  Sorry!  It’s not supposed to be about Jepsen.  It’s supposed to be about

YEPSEN

yepsen – the amount that can be held in two cupped hands

WHO IN HELL NEEDS/NEEDED SUCH AN AMOUNT??!

While I welcome and appreciate the accuracy and interlinked logic of the Metric System, it took me more than a few years to get used to it.  I still mourn and bemoan the loss of the British Imperial System of measurement but – what were those guys smoking?   It was more than idiosyncratic; it bordered on idiotic.  They just made (sh)it up as they went along.

Three barleycorns, side by side was an inch.  The length of a King’s foot became the ‘foot’ measurement.  A yard, was from his nose to the tip of his outstretched arm, and the distance between the tips of two outstretched arms was the fathom.  Everyone’s hands are different sizes, so everyone’s Yepsen was a different size.  (Somehow, that sounds faintly pornographic.)  😯 

In the 16th century the rod (5.5 yards, or 16.5 feet) was defined (as a learning device and not as a standard) as the length of the left feet of 16 men lined up heel to toe as they emerged from church, with variations from 9 to 28 feet.  (Why must the measurement be taken after these good men attended church?  Did their feet swell (or contract?) during service?)
There were several versions of the pound.  Eventually, they coalesced down to the Troy Pound, which was used to weigh medicines and precious metals, and the Avoirdupois (French = have weight) Pound, which weighed everything else.

The Troy Pound weighs less than the Avoirdupois Pound.  That screws up the silly old riddle, Which weighs more, a pound of gold, or a pound of feathers?  Since gold is weighed in Troy, the pound of feathers actually weighs more.

In the past, there has been talk – before the medication kicked in – of Metric Days, consisting of an AM and a PM of 10 Metric hours each with 100 Metric minutes.  A Metric week would have 10 days.  This has not been one of my Seinfeld blogs, about nothing.  It’s been a distraction post about something – anything – else.  Fortunately, it’ll only be two standard Imperial days till I publish something less frivolous.  If you’re out of therapy from worrying about those Metric days and weeks, stop by.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

No matter how cynical you are, it’s never enough to keep up.

I learned about scams at a very young age.  My Mother obtained two successive jobs in Detroit during the Dirty Thirties, in the middle of ‘The Great Depression’.  She worked at Burroughs Adding Machine as an assembler, and later moved to a better-paying position in the kitchens of Detroit General Hospital.

Pencils could be bought in a store for 1 cent each.  On the sidewalks of the commercial district where she worked, could be seen a little Jewish man, with a mug half-full of pencils, and a sign, 2 cents each – 100% markup.  Mom said that one time she gave him two pennies, and took a pencil, as many others did.  Some dropped in the two cents, but declined to take one.  Some dropped in the occasional nickel, or even the rare dime.

She shared a tiny apartment in a huge building, amongst several more, with few trees, little green space, and no parks.  Sometimes on Sundays, to get away from the industrial blandness, she and her room-mate would take a bus to a more upscale residential neighborhood.  There they would tour the area, enjoying the shade, the grass, the flowers, and the birds and squirrels, staring longingly at the magnificent homes.

One Sunday, they passed a large red-brick manor home on an acre lot of manicured lawn and gorgeous gardens, behind a six-foot wrought-iron fence.  When they reached the driveway, there was the little Jewish man, washing his Cadillac.  😳

On my Flash Fiction about seeing a roadside beggar, a commenter from England said that a panhandler in his city has been spotted ending his day by climbing into a nice car.  Toronto had a similar scam artist.  The Shaky Lady was regularly seen in the banking district.  She had muscle tremors, a distorted face, and difficulty speaking…. until quitting time, when a Toronto Sun reporter noticed her striding up a side street, and driving away in this year’s Audi.

I’m not saying that begging as a means of support is easy, especially the roadside panhandling.  You have to stand on pavement for hours, exposed to wind, rain, heat, cold, snow, and exhaust fumes.  You can’t eat or drink on the job, or it destroys the image.  You generally can’t take a break, and washrooms are not available – unless there’s a nearby clump of bushes.

One of my biggest objections to individuals supporting themselves in this manner, is that these people are like leeches on society, adding nothing – no goods or services – to the economy and the general welfare.  My other main objection is that most, or all, of the money received is unreported, and no tax is paid on it.  This means that I (and you) have to pay more taxes for infrastructure and social services, like supporting the unfortunates who really need it. Get some ethics!  Get some self-respect! Get a job!