Loose Change Fibbing Friday

There was a little change of pace this/last week.  Below are ten scenarios and Pensitivity101 would like you to make up excuses/fibs for not complying or owning up either as kids or adults.

1. Meeting the prospective in-laws for the first time.

My in-laws had the good sense and taste to both die before I even met my future wife.  It saved me the trouble of later having to water the grass around their grave-stones.  My fine friend asked me to pour a pint of good Scotch whiskey on his grave after he passes.  I asked him if he minded if I strained it through my kidneys first.

2.  Going to your partner’s firm’s social evening where you know it will be talking shop all night.

Honey, you know how impressed I am with insurance actuarial tables, but Elon Musk called, and he wants to discuss my expertise in designing high-power Maguffium batteries. He’s going to let me watch the SpaceX rocket launch, and help him name his next kid.  You just go and have fun, and I’ll bring you back a Tesla.

3.  Not going to school on a test day.

Win, lose, or draw, you would have to be a complete fool to do this – as I know, from sad, personal experience.  One year in high school, there were exams scheduled every morning, and every afternoon for a week, depending on what courses you took.  I blithely showed up on Tuesday afternoon for a French test, only to find that it was Greek History.  French had been that morning.

I explained my problem to the French teacher.  He promised to put me in a supervised study hall to take it, if I would swear that I had talked to no-one about it, or been given any of the questions.  I passed the exam, but the dismal mark I got proved that I didn’t cheat.

4.  Broken a window whilst playing outside

I once kicked a soccer-ball real hard, and broke a lady’s window.  She was yelling at me, and saying that she was going to go to my parents.  I told her that my dad was a glazier, and he would come and fix her window if she let me go get him.  Soon, a man showed up and fixed it.  Then he said, “That’ll be $10.”  She protested.  “Aren’t you that boy’s father?”
“No!  Aren’t you his mother?”

5.  Having gone shopping, spent all the money, but not bought anything on the list.

Shopping list??!  This isn’t our shopping list!  This is our neighbor Bob’s shopping list.  He probably put it in my pocket as a joke.  You remember about a month ago, when he tricked me into going to the bar with him and getting really, REALLY wasted – and he peed my pants, too.

6.  Damaged the car

I was just trying to pull into our driveway, when a tree we don’t have jumped out right in front of me.

7.  Late for work

Sorry Boss, I’m still on standard time.  I haven’t switched to Daylight time.
Smithers, It’s the end of April.
I know, boss, but the battery in my calendar needs to be replaced

8.  Forgotten to do your homework

I never ‘Forgot’ to do my homework – ignored it maybe, but never forgot it.  The only thing that elementary and high schools teach, is how to memorize and regurgitate.  With my innate neurological memory problem, I soon found that homework was little help.  I understood principles, but found rereading, and rereading, and rereading the texts and my notes finally cemented the memories.
We had trouble
right there in River City
with a capital T,
and that rhymed with P,
and that stood for Pool.
That left me time to do most of my studying of physics – reflection, refraction, colours of the spectrum – at the local pool hall.  😳

9.  Insurance claim for damage to property

No Sir!  The pizza was stuck to the ceiling when we moved in.
Nah.  That won’t work.
Everybody else jumped off the roof, so I did too.
No, that’s not even related.  I might as well try the truth for a change.
We had a strong little storm cell come through.  It generated a small tornado, and golf-ball-sized hail stones that made my car look like J. Arthur Rank’s giant gong.

10. Ruined an expensive piece of clothing.

The wife saved, and saved, and saved to buy this pricey little gown for the likes of company Christmas parties – and then managed to get salad oil on it.  Dry-cleaning isn’t dry.  They use liquid solvents to lift the stains.

I had a bit of petrol for the mower.  I drizzled a bit on, worked it in well, and blotted it up with paper towel.  I took ‘Before’ and ‘After’ photos with my cell phone.  The ‘after’ shot apparently generated a static spark, and I learned three things.
It’s a good thing that she wasn’t wearing it at the time.
My left eyebrow will probably grow back in six months – and
The phone will remain turned off, and in the car, when I fuel up.

Time Hobbles On

Growing “Older”
How many do you identify with??

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned that pleasing everyone is impossible, but annoying everyone is a piece of cake.

I’m not saying I’m old and worn out, but I make sure I’m nowhere near the curb on trash day.

As I watch this generation try and rewrite our history, I’m sure of one thing: It will be misspelled and have no punctuation.

Me (sobbing): “I can’t see you anymore — I’m not going to let you hurt me again.”
My physical exercise instructor (exasperated): “But you did only one sit-up.”

I haven’t gotten anything done today. I’ve been in the produce department trying to open this stupid plastic bag.

Turns out that being senior is mostly just Googling how to do stuff.

I’m on two diets. I wasn’t getting enough food on one.

If you find yourself feeling useless, remember it took 20 years, trillions of dollars and four presidents to replace the Taliban with the Taliban.

As I’ve gotten older, people think I’m lazy. The truth is, I’m just being energy efficient.

I put my scale in the bathroom corner and that’s where the little liar will stay until it apologizes.

My tolerance for idiots is extremely low these days. I used to have immunity built up, but obviously there’s a new strain out there.

There is no such thing as a grouchy old person. The truth is, that once you get old you to stop being polite and start being honest.

My mind is like an internet browser. At least 19 open tabs, 3 of them are frozen, and I have no clue where the music is coming from.

Hard to believe I once had a phone attached to a wall, and when it rang I picked it up without knowing who was calling.

So, you’ve been eating hot dogs and McChickens all your life, but you won’t take the COVID vaccine because you don’t know what’s in it. Are you kidding me?  😕

’22 A To Z Challenge – P

You dirty, rotten, stinkin’ Polecat, expectin’ me to come up with a theme for the letter P on short notice.  (Notice that I wasted three weeks of lead-time??!)  There I was, contentedly looking up the meaning of ‘lollygagging,’ – idling, loafing, slacking off – goldbricking – American slang = shirking responsibility, when Matilda the Muse pointed out that Monday deadline was bearing down on me.  She’s often overbearing.

I always want to provide food for thought, so I thought that I would provide a post about providing food.  Ready or not – here comes

PROVENDER

any dry feed or fodder for domestic livestock
food in general

The NEW COVID-inspired, grocery-store concept of ‘We shop for you, and deliver it’ isn’t new at all.  The vocal group Home Free recently released a compilation of sea-shanties, a couple of which refer to whale-hunting around Australia, in the mid/late 1800s.

One song mentions
Soon may the Wellerman come
To bring us sugar and tea and rum

A ‘Wellerman’ was a captain who worked for two brothers named Weller.  They had five supply ships that serviced the whaling fleet.  They would sail out, and haul back the processed products – rendered oil, blubber, salted whale-meat, baleen ivory, and ambergris.  In return, they would bring out supplies, so that the whalers could remain at sea for weeks and months.

Neither is my concept of an ideal job.  I complain about computer elbow.  There’s no mention of crazy Captain Ahab, and his white whale obsession.  He hung out in the Atlantic off the coast of Messyshoes….Massawhositz….Maine, but couldn’t get a good therapist delivered.  I thought Moby Dick was a venereal disease.  😉

’22 A To Z Challenge – J

 

Jesus, Jeremiah, Jumped-Up, Jehoshaphat, Jehovah!!  Here it is, time to have a ‘J’ post ready for the A To Z Challenge and, as usual, I don’t have a single black pixel on the virtual white page.

The wife thinks that I am a procrastinating Jackass.  The son says that I am a lazy Jerk.  The daughter is not as Judgmental.  She just sits on the sidelines and Jeers.

I took a short Journey, out to a shopping mall, now that they have re-opened after COVID.  It was Just a little Jaunt to the now-legal cannabis Joint, to buy a…. Joint. I met a Jolly old man with a bushy, white beard.  He assured me that he was Jovial, but not Jocular.  He was dressed in strange, all-red clothes, and was even more rotund than me.  He laughed a lot, and his midriff shook like a bowlful of Jelly.

He said that I deserved to get coal at Christmas, but EPA regulations restricted him to giving me a miniature wind turbine.  He assured me that I was so mouthy garrulous, that I could charge all my electronic gadgets with it, if I just kept talking at it.  I thought that was a bit Juvenile, but probably Justified.

After Jawing with him, I Judged that it was time to get me and my cowboy boots, which do not go Jingle-Jangle-Jingle, over to the men’s cooking class at the supermarket.  Today’s food category would be Jell-O salads.  The wife doesn’t like them.  The only time I get some is at a buffet restaurant.  As one of ten children in a Good Catholic family, she associates them with “Poor Folks” food.

Today’s was a Jewel of a lesson – a gourmet recipe for wiener Jell-O salad.  I Jotted down all the preparation instructions, every Jot and tittle of them.

Stop back on Wednesday.  After you’ve read my post, I’m throwing a picnic.  I hope you like frankfurters.  I’m just not grilling them.  Y’all come, now.   😉

He Is Not A Pleasant Fellow

I am not a very pleasant fellow – as certified by my wife.

The son often reads Quora, an online discussion forum, which has the recurring theme, “Was I The Asshole?”  I did it again – or did I??!  You be the judge.

The wife and I entered a small variety store – think Wal-Mart-Lite.  As many stores do, the entrance aisle was narrow.  Ten feet in, the store had put clothing racks on either side, narrowing traffic even more.  Two corpulent women stood, examining clothing on one rack.  Their shopping cart was crossways to traffic flow, with its nose buried in the far rack.

We, and the couple behind us, could not proceed.  I reached ahead, and moved their cart parallel to the aisle.  We all started forward.  Just as we passed, I heard one woman complain, “He’s not a very pleasant fellow, is he?”  Despite the fact that the wife insists that I need hearing aids, I heard her mutter, “No, he’s not, is he?”

Now, some of my readers might be surprised, but being voted a pleasant fellow by a random idiot bunch of total strangers is not on my list of desired goals.  Then I started thinking about the encounter.  Just what would I have had to do to be considered pleasant??!  What did I do, to deserve such denigration?

I didn’t scream or yell.  I didn’t raise my voice.  I didn’t demand.  I didn’t curse and swear. I didn’t insult either of them.  I didn’t say a word.  I didn’t even require that one of them actually move the offending obstacle.

I could have put a smile in my big, stertorous, public-speaking voice, and sweetly asked, “Could someone please take their inattentive and exasperating head out of their Fucking ass and move this piece-of-shit cart, so that I can get into this God-damned store??!

But no!  This was more like a good day at work.  No-one actually died.  There wasn’t much blood, and the flames were quickly extinguished.  What does a fellow have to do to be declared polite and pleasant, and not get voted off the island?

Now it’s your turn to vote.  Was I the asshole??  Or just a pleasant, if not totally innocent, bystander?

I’ll tabulate the ballots on Friday.  No Fibbing.  😉

Bakers’ Dozen Fibbing Fridays

Pensitivity101 and her Loss Control Officer were distracted by a troupe of Polish folk-dancers, so I was able to make off, undetected, with another list of ten chances to win the Paul Bunyan Tall Tale award.

1. What did the Three Wise Men bring as gifts to the babe in the stables?

Watermelon-flavored bubblegum, a Hello Kitty backpack, and a bunch of those pine-scented car deodorizers.  Do you know what stables smell like??!  And He’s not helping matters any.  He’s being investigated by the EPA for air quality violations.  “Holy shit” may be what He produces, but it still reeks.
2. Band Aid had a Number One hit with the same record 3 times. What was it?

A catchy little ad-jingle that goes I am stuck on Band-Aid brand, ‘cause Band-Aid’s stuck on me.
3. Why is Rudolph’s nose red?

Santa can’t possibly eat all the cookies and drink all the milk that people leave out for him, all by himself, so Rudolf helps out.  Approximately 40% of the milk – and almost all of the egg nog – are chemically enhanced with rum, rye or vodka.  The night barely begins before Rudolf’s bloodshot eyes start to leak down to his nose.  The bright glow helps tell where they are, but soon Rudy has no idea where he’s going.  Santa has to attach a Garmin mini-GPS unit to his antlers, even to assure they get back to dead-drunk North.
4. Who was Santa’s Little Helper?

They were some special little ‘stay-awake’ pills that Santa got from Walter White of the Breaking Bad TV show.  Pound a few of those down with a king-can or two of Monster© soda, and stay awake and alert for the 24 hours that it takes to chase the sunrise, and deliver seven billion toys in 24 hours.
5. What will you find on Quality Street?

Snooty bitches like Posh Spice, (GOOP) Gwyneth Paltrow, and Oprah Winfrey, believing their own press, and looking down their noses at lesser beings – anyone other than them.  What you won’t find, is the likes of the Kardashians, Nicky Minaj, or Cardi B – who all believe in quantity, over Quality.
6. What is egg nog?

According to the translation of the French side of Canadian cartons, it is “Chicken Milk.”  I don’t know how you’d milk a chicken.  You must need a very short stool.
7. Who is Saint Nick?

He is my neighbor, Nicholas Dunning-Kruger, whose wife is an obsessive shopper.  She only has two complaints – “I have nothing to wear.” and, “There is no room in my closet.”  She will contentedly spend 12 to 14 hours of a Saturday, going into every shoe store within a fifteen-mile radius, and still return home with nothing more than a smile.  Nick obligingly, obediently, uncomplainingly drives her around and patiently waits for her.  He is the inspiration for my Beothuk Flash Fiction.  I don’t know why he hasn’t smothered her, or slashed her wrists with a sharpened credit card.  He truly is a saint.
8. Where is Christmas Island?

It’s at the seaward end of the Happy Holidays Archipelago, just across the Incensed Christians Strait from Lovingly Inclusive Key.  There are lots of shopping and party places, but be careful if you want to visit.  There are a bunch of religious nut-cases who try to block access with large crosses, and insist that they own the entire island, when they only hold title to one small area.
9. What does Feliz Navidad mean?

It means that you’re living too far south in the United States.  Move somewhere far enough north that people say Merry Christmas – or at least, Happy Holidays – or your festive meal will be arroz con pollo. (recipe)
10. What is a gobbler?

That would be my divorced uncle, Fred, at any Easter, Thanksgiving or Christmas family gathering where someone else is providing a home cooked meal.  Free is his favorite flavor.

 

’22 A To Z Challenge – D

 

A number of word-nerds often wish that some older, arcane and archaic words were still in common use, if only to provide insults for the office prankster, the Karen supervisor, and the sneak-thief who steals lunches from the break-room refrigerator.

Then there are terms that even word historians wonder how and why they came into existence, and no-one misses when they’re gone.  Such a one is

DELIVERLY

When I first ran into it, I thought it was just a misspelling.  Even when I checked it on a dictionary site, there was the red underlining, but it admitted that it was real, and meant
adverb Archaic. quickly, deftly.
A Middle English word dating back to 1300–50

If we had quickly and deftly, why did we need deliverly??  It is related to the old command to, “Stand and deliver!”  This was not about a parcel, or a speech.  It referred to a quick, deft, armed response to the challenge.

Everything old is being used for something new.  People are not shopping at bricks and mortar stores anymore.  Instead, they buy online, and have things delivered to them.  I occasionally see FedEx, or Purolator, or DHL, or even Canpar (Canadian Parcel Service) trucks in the neighborhood, but there’s not a day when I don’t see a local, Intense Delivery Service, Mercedes Sprinter van, delivering up and down the street.

Sad to admit, it has stopped at our place more than a few times.  The wife will say, “I wonder if that knitting pattern book that I ordered, will be delivered today.” – and her tablet will chime, with a photo of the package on the porch.  So, if you want your delivery deliverly delivered, use an Intense courier company.  😉

How was my delivery of this post?  Please be quick and deft with your responses.  😀

Kindergarten Comedy

My Kindergarten students are learning to read.  Recently one of them pointed to a picture in a book and said, “Look, a frickin’ elephant.”
Taking a deep breath, I asked why he had called it that.
“Cuz it says so in the book.”
And so it does – African elephant.

***

My wife and I went into town and visited a shop. When we came out, there was a cop writing out a parking ticket. We went up to him and I said, “Come on man, how about giving a senior citizen a break?”

He just ignored us and continued writing the ticket.

I called him an “a**hole.” He glared at me and started writing another ticket for having worn-out tires.

So my wife called him a “s*ithead.”

He finished the second ticket and put it on the windshield with the first.

Then he started writing more tickets. This went on for about 20 minutes. The more we abused him, the more tickets he wrote. He finally finished, sneered at us and walked away.

Just then our bus arrived, and we got on it and went home.

***

A young boy comes running down the street looking for a cop.

He finds one and then begs “Please, officer, come back to the bar with me, my father’s in a fight.”

Well, they get back to the bar and there’s three guys fighting like you wouldn’t believe.

After a while the cop turns to the kid and says “Okay, which one’s your father?”

The kid looks up at the cop and says, “I don’t know, officer, that’s what they’re fighting about.”

***

A Polish man walks into a store and asks to buy 2 pounds of Polish sausage. The guy behind the counter asks him if he is Polish. “I resent that…”. The Polish man says. “If I asked for chorizo, would you assume I was Mexican? If I asked for Bratwurst, would you assume I was German?” The guy behind the counter says “Nope, I’d still think you were Polish… This is a hardware store!!”

***

A new father and a nurse were filling out the paperwork for the birth of his new daughter.  “What’s the baby’s name?” she asked.
He replied, “Kelsey Noelle.”
Confused, the nurse asks, “How do you spell Kelsey, with no L??”

***

When I was young, I was poor.  Now, after long years of hard, honest work…. I am no longer young.

***

As I looked at my naked body in the mirror, I thought to myself, “I’m going to get tossed out of IKEA any minute now.

British One-Liners

Do UK websites….
….Use biscuits instead of cookies?

Dear Naps….
….I’m sorry I was a jerk to you as a kid.

I used to cough to hide my farts….
….Now I fart to hide my coughs.

Becoming a vegetarian….
….Was a big missed steak.

Cremation is my last chance….
….For a smoking, hot body.

87% of gym members….
….Don’t know it’s closed.

There are three things that never lie….
….Children, drunks, and yoga pants.

I wish I was as thin….
….As my patience.

My school bully still takes my lunch money….
….On the upside, he makes great fries.

I’m in a band called Dyslexia….
….We just released our Greatest Shit album.

I have a step-ladder….
….I never knew my real ladder.

Boeing has invented an invisible airplane….
….I don’t see that taking off.

Bigfoot is sometimes confused with Sasquatch….
….Yeti never complains.

My wife told me to put ketchup on the shopping list….
….Now we can’t read the list.

I don’t worry about being driven to drink….
….I worry about being driven home

Can those attending tonight’s Kinky Sex Anonymous meeting….
….Please use the rear entrance?

I asked 100 women what shampoo they preferred….
….Almost all of them asked, “How the Hell did you get in here?”

I went to a rave for blind people….
….And danced like no-one was watching.

I was never a very photogenic person….
….When everyone else said ‘Cheese,’ I said ‘Where?’

No matter how low I set the bar….
….Some people roll right under it.

The only substitute for good manners….
….Is fast reflexes.

I applied for a job as a waiter….
….I have a lot to bring to the table.

I put a wooden desk and a blackboard in my den….
….I think it makes the place look classy.

If glassblowers inhale….
….Do they get a pane in the stomach?

Some people are so narrow-minded….
….That their ears rub together.

Don’t challenge Death to a pillow fight….
….Unless you’re ready for the Reaper cushions.

***

Milestone:  This is my 1500th published post.

Swimming In The OCD Ocean

I can’t dress myself!  Oh, I can put clothing on my body – but pick what to wear??  Shortly after I got married, my wife proved to me that, like many other newly-wed men, I was incapable of choosing acceptable attire.  I haven’t bought myself a piece of clothing in over 54 years.

We have agreed on black jeans for normal, casual wear.  For the mix-and-match polo shirts that go with them, her system for choosing to purchase seems to be based on – Ooh, I love that color – Ooh, I like the collar on that, and – Ooh, they’re on sale.  We’ll get one in all four colors.

She was doing laundry one day, and asked me to check my closet for any empty hangers that would be needed to hang them up after drying.  I opened the closet, and it was FULL of polo shirts – How many??! – 32!!  How can I possibly have 32 shirts left, on the day she’s doing laundry??  Not having done laundry in two weeks, she had another 10 in the wash.

When she buys me new shirts, she says, “I’ll throw out all the old, threadbare ones to make room.”  With 42 shirts in the rotation, how would any of them become threadbare?

I was wearing a particular shirt one day.  She commented, “I haven’t seen that shirt in a while.”  I responded, “You should see it every couple of months.  I put shirts into the closet on the left, and take them out to wear, from the right.”  “Wellll… You’ve got some shirts that I don’t like, so I go into your closet and move them around, so that you won’t wear them.”

Wait!!  You do what??!  You purchase all my shirts, and there are some that you don’t like??!  No wonder I can’t choose any that she likes.  She doesn’t even like the ones that she picks.  Must be the ones with the OOH collars.  And she goes into my closet and curates my clothing??!    😯

She does throw out threadbare shirts – right when she shouldn’t.  At the old auto parts plant, the windows were one short step up from kitchen sieves.  During a winter cold snap, temps on the floor could drop into the 60s, or even 50s F.  I had 10 thick, warm work tee-shirts – 5 each for two weeks till she did laundry.  In the summer, with no A/C and lots of hot vinyl, many days I worked in the 90s F.  I had 10 thin, threadbare shirts.

As cold weather approached one winter, I put away the thin, summer shirts.  At our first heat-wave in April, I went to pull them back out – but couldn’t find them.  “Honey, do you know where my summer tee-shirts are?”  “Oh, they were all so thin, and they had little holes and picks in them, so I just threw them all out.  Just wear the good, thick, heavy ones.  They cover you better, anyway.”  I can’t even go out and buy thin, cool shirts.

The poor dear probably doesn’t even notice what she’s doing, and does it with the best of intentions and my welfare and best interests at heart.  A guy could die from all that love.  I’ll be wearing a clean shirt when you return in a couple of days – solid colors only – no stripes, spots, or Canadian plaid.  Tell me if you like the collar.   😉