Flying is For the Birds

•November 8, 2017 • Leave a Comment

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•November 3, 2017 • Leave a Comment




























My New Windows

•November 2, 2017 • Leave a Comment

At my age, I run into all kinds of people.

Last year I replaced all the windows in my house with those expensive, double-pane, energy-efficient kind. Today, I got a call from Home Depot who installed them. The caller complained that the work had been completed a year ago and I still hadn’t paid for them.

Just because I’m a Senior Citizen doesn’t mean that I am automatically mentally challenged. So, I told him just what his fast-talking sales guy told me last year–that these windows would pay for themselves in a year.

Hellooooo? It’s been a year, so they’re paid for, I told him. There was only silence at the other end of the line, so I finally hung up. He never called back. I bet he felt like an idiot.


•November 1, 2017 • 1 Comment

"Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedies."

– Groucho Marx

So…NEVER Do This

•October 23, 2017 • 1 Comment

From one of the guys I work with…

So I’m in the men’s room taking a wiz and my phone rings. I reach into my pants pocket to retrieve it and damn near dropped it in the urinal. As I struggle to get control of it, Mr. Winky jumps back into my pants and I start pissing myself. From zipper to shoes before I could get the valve to shut off. So after almost a whole role of hand towels trying to soak it all up and a couple of laps around the parking lot in the sun, I’m now back at my desk.

Dude… Never answer your phone while standing at the urinal!

Oh, and, the phone call… It was my wife telling me to look at her text message, as her “Night Sleep” app (that she sometimes runs on her phone at night to see if she can figure out why she doesn’t sleep), had recorded me farting the biggest fart she has ever heard and she had sent me a link. Insult to injury.

I hate Mondays!

Card Trick

•October 10, 2017 • 1 Comment

I like magic tricks: some I can figure out; others not so much. This might possibly be the most amazing card trick you have EVER seen! It was developed by the magician after the terrorist attacks in Paris, France. Supposedly, he did this in front of Penn and Teller on TV and they just shook their heads in disbelief.

The Bubble on the Chart

•October 5, 2017 • Leave a Comment

‘Twas a mild winters evening
and a goodly crowd had banned
To fill the local tavern
leaving barely room to stand.

As the songs and cheerful laughter
filled the room from walls to floor
A bent and twisted figure
staggered through the open door.

A gasp, a shriek, a stammered "Look!"
turned merriment to gloom
As all eyes turned to gaze upon
the presence in the room.

An albatross, had he but worn,
could not have wrought more fright
The red-rimmed eyes, the unkempt hair,
He looked a ghastly sight.

"The funeral parlor’s down the street!"
spoke up a faceless voice.
"The parlor wouldn’t take that thing,
not if they had a choice."

"He looks as though he’s just been though
a fight, a trial, a test."
"Yes, and what is worse, he looks as though
he came out second best."

This humor did the poor wretch take
in fact he gave a grin.
He scratched his beard and then he spoke
and the room was still again.

"If you don’t mind, I’d like to rest
I’ve not slept in many days."
"They why don’t you go get a job,
and change your wicked ways?"

He fixed his swollen, half-shut eyes
upon the voice that spoke.
He grinned, he chortled, then he laughed
as though he’d heard a joke.

Walking slowly to the bar,
he ordered up a beer.
"I’ll tell you all a funny story
one I know you’d like to hear."

Quaffing down the cooling brew
he turned to face the crowd.
"Once I was a clean-cut youth:
healthy; happy; proud.

"Yes! I was once a decent man.
‘Tis hard to believe, I know.
But I was-some four or five months back,
even though it doesn’t show.

"I was a programmer, no,
not a coder, tech, or clerk.
But an analyst-an artist
who knew how to do his work.

"I programmed this, and debugged that
finished each task on time.
And as my programs bug-free ran
my star began to climb.

"Then one day it happened.
My rising star did beam.
For I was asked to join
the mighty SYSTEMS team.

"Why don’t you laugh? ‘Tis funny
when you think about it some,
That such a task could ever use
this dirty, wretched bum.

"But ’twas so and for an hour or two
my work progressed quite well.
‘Till someone checked the perted chart
then my schedule went to hell.

"I hadn’t met the bubble
that was due on May the 7th.
No matter that I hadn’t joined
the team ’till June 11th.

"But they told me not to worry,
they would help me do my chore.
Instead of working just eight hours,
they allowed me twenty-four.

"They didn’t let me eat or sleep,
and yet they couldn’t figure
Why every time they saw the pert
my bubble had grown bigger.

"’Hurry! Hurry! Get it done!’
Was all that they could say.
My teeth grew weak, my body thin,
my hair began to gray.

"My voice went numb; my skin turned pale.
I started seeing double.
But they cared not, their prime concern:
that ever-growing bubble.

"One day I tried to run away;
I used to be a sprinter
They caught me in the parking lot
and chained me to the printer.

"And there I stayed for months on end
’til one day they said-Okay.
No sooner had my chains come off
then I made my get-away."

And as he spoke this final sentence
he was walking towards the door;
When suddenly he gripped his chest
and fell, dead, upon the floor.

Around his neck they found a tag
like diabetics wear.
Engraved upon this self-same tag
this message written there:

"If you should find this wayward soul
whether he’s safe or he’s in trouble,
Send him back, he isn’t through:
he’s got another bubble.