Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Finish Line

I read in a magazine a while back about great endings to books. Words that summed up the whole thing, or just ended it with flair, pizzaz or leaving you wanting more, but at the same time leaving you knowing it was well-finished.

So I found a few of my own…however, these do not have books written in front of them, they are just endings (for those with the attention span to write the 345 pages before this line, feel free to use these) for potential books.

“She smiled a wry smile as the bulldozer ran out of gas.”

“As he died, he remembered where he left his wallet.”

“He looked around the room, then at the ground and said, ‘Yeah, I-55 does run through St. Louis.’”

“Cream of Wheat? This is what you brought me? Cream of Wheat?”

And finally…

“And even if he wanted to…he didn’t own a bicycle pump.”

Monday, June 29, 2009

There goes my plans for the weekend...

In a bold move designed to curb gun violence, legislators have passed a comprehensive bill that will solve the problem.

Titled Bill 734, the legislation states, in short, “citizens will no longer be allowed to shoot one another.” The Bill is the effort of legislators to govern with a common sense approach.

“We spent all this time making laws about citizens bringing their guns into restaurants, stores and trying to get them to register their weapons or wait seven days until they can buy one. It finally occurred to us that if we just said you can’t shoot other people, it would solve all our problems with violent crime.”

In other legislative news, lawmakers were expected to pass a bill that would make it illegal to buy stuff on credit that you can’t pay for.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Why I don’t Twitter…

Apparently, you can only have 40 letters in a mes

And I usually like to write a bit more than just

And so all my messages would end like I was murdered whi

And I don’t want any of you to think I was dead, so I

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Where there's smoke...it's harder to see

Well, the local paper hacked into my emails and uncovered messages sent back and forth between me and the woman I’m having a affair with…

First, her --

coleslaw mix - 2 bags
apple cider vinegar
italian dressing mix
hellman's mayo
Dixie paper plates - with a nice design
hamburger buns
Ice Cream Sandwiches
Fresh fruit and fresh veggies

That's all. We'll have burgers and hot dogs, baked beans, coleslaw, chips, sweet tea, and lemonade. Ice Cream Sandwiches for dessert.

I love you -


Then me-

Karen called you last night at 9:05. Hope you have a nice day.



Then, her –

2 small boxes of vanilla pudding
brown sugar
frozen strawberries



Then me –

I looked it up and there is only one tunnel on I-40 between Asheville and Knoxville. So there.


Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A few moves on wording...

A guy missed a meeting with me today because he was moving. He forgot about our meeting.

I couldn't help but understand, moving usually dominates your whole life until it is over and it's certainly more important that cutting commercials.

I've moved across town, across the state, across the country and across the ocean (and back).

I've heard people say the short moves are harder than the long moves, since it takes more trips, blah, blah, blah...but I have equal dislike for them all.

The stuff I hate the most when I move are the things that don't fit in boxes and then end up sitting on the seat next to you. Like the blender or the wrench you forgot to put back in the toolbox before you packed it in the truck.

You always lose stuff in each move, it's like a moving tax, 5% of your stuff is never seen again and 5% is broken.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Who had 7 1/2 years in the pool?

After many years of trying to reconcile our differences, Holli and I have decided to divorce.

Our Reasons:
We relate to each other in unhealthy ways, we’ve grown apart, we’re different people now, we’ve fallen “out” of love, we feel things would be better if we weren’t together, we know we’ll just grow to hate each other if we don’t separate, we have irreconcilable differences, we married for the wrong reasons, and she doesn’t like the same kind of beer I do. God wants me to be happy. We are married on paper, but not in our hearts. I had my fingers crossed when I said I do. I don’t know where it is in the Bible, but it says somewhere in there that I don’t have to put up with this crap anymore.

Our kids:
She can have the kids when they are whining and complaining and I’ll take them when they are happy or asleep. They will be fine without two parents. Plenty of kids don’t have married parents. Since 50% of marriages end in divorce anyway, it will be a good learning situation for at least one of them.

Our stuff:
We’ll sell everything and give it to charity, except for the really important stuff like my golf clubs and the BBQ grill. I'd like to get the TV, but I think she wants it too.

Oh, come on...it's just a joke.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Burgers on the grill tonight...call the Fire Department...

I had a typical weekend. Did yard work, went to the store, smashed out the back windshield on the van, played with the kids, etc, etc.

I pulled around to the front yard (and front door) in order to put a mattress into it so that I could take it and trade it for a slightly smaller mattress with my parents. The problem was (and is), a queen size mattress won’t fit in a mini-van, however, this is slightly less important than the fact that neither will a mini-van (with the back gate up) fit in the garage without a lot of broken glass involved.

When I discovered the mattress wouldn’t fit, I put it back in the house and then put the van (most of it anyway) back into the garage.

When I heard the crash, I didn't even look back.

The guy at the glass place said he’d try to help me recover my $100 deductible. I guess he figures anyone who would do this could use all the money he can get.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Thanks for nothing...

I’ve got a card table, two folding chairs, two water bottles (one full, one empty but I can’t find a trash can), a clipboard, the radio equipment in a suitcase, and a plaque we got for being involved in the thing I was trying to exit from in order to go to the next thing.

I decide to take my parents advice and make as few trips as possible. (This may not have been the exact wording, but it did involve “making two trips”…I can’t remember whether they were for it or against it)

I was joined on the walk by empty-handed Amos (this may not be his real name) who played twenty questions with me as I struggled with my items. About halfway, I dropped the water bottle (full). At this point I put down the card table, two folding chairs, one water bottle (empty), the clipboard and the radio equipment in a suitcase to pick up the fallen bottle of water (full).

And then I picked it all up again and continued on my with empty-handed Amos, who asked me questions the entire way.

I put the stuff in the car, said goodbye to empty-handed Amos and left.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

And that Novacaine means "no go caine" in Spanish...

I keep seeing these ads for “Things Your Dentist Don’t Want You to Know.”

Here's what they are...

1. They never wash their hands. Ever.
2. Tiny pinch=Excruciating pain
3. There is no such thing as sugarless gum.
4. Telling you that you should "floss daily" is an inside joke/coping mechanism shared by all dentists that in Swahili means, “man, your breath stinks!”
5. They videotape everything.
6. They could just give you a pill to numb your mouth, but they just really like needles and love the irony of saying “tiny pinch” to people.
7. They can have all the nitrous oxide they want and no one can do anything about it.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

I got a letter (and an opportunity) this morning...

Dear Friend,

As you have been identified to me as someone with great character and love for those who cannot yet step up to the trough to enjoy life’s finest things, I write you concerning a possibility of great benefit for you.

As I wish to make a purchase with a local supplier, I lack the sufficient age to qualify in accordance with the laws of our land. I will supply all the money to make the purchase, the only thing I require is the help of someone to make the purchase for me. For your generous service in this area, I will be more than happy to share half of the items I purchase with you.

If you could be so kind as to meet me at the Liquor Warehouse on E. Main St. this Friday at 1:30, I will provide the funds so that our transaction can be made whole.



P.S. And if you can get me a pack of cigarettes too, that would be great.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The silly contest ends in a tie...

In our house, we watch the Veggie Tales. Now for those of you who think God is not a vegetable, you are correct. The stories are fine although they occasionally have a “do good and God will like you” message, which is the opposite of what the Gospel says, but our favorite thing is the silly songs anyway.

The songs are quite silly, but on the way home from the office yesterday the song Convoy (by CW McCall – I had to look it up on Google) was on and, of course, I had to sing along about the “bears being wall-to-wall.”

As I came into the living room, Gracie laughed and told me I was silly, even sillier than the silly songs because, after all, whoever heard of a “rubber duck throwing the hammer down.”

And here's the Real Country Music lyric of the day...
Uh, Breaker One-Nine, this here's the Rubber Duck
You got a copy on me Pig-Pen? C'mon

Uh, yeah 10-4 Pig Pen, fer sure, fer sure
By golly it's clean clear to Flag-Town, C'mon

Uh, yeah, that's a big 10-4 Pig-Pen,
Yeah, we definitely got us the front door good buddy,
Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a convoy

Was the dark of the moon, on the sixth of June
In a Kenworth, pullin' logs
Cabover Pete with a reefer on
And a Jimmy haulin' hogs
We 'as headin' fer bear on I-One-Oh
'Bout a mile outta Shaky-Town
I sez Pig-Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck
An' I'm about to put the hammer on down

Cause we gotta little ol' convoy, rockin' through the night
Yeah we gotta little ol' convoy, ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on an' join our convoy, ain't nothin' gonna git in our way
We're gonna roll this truckin' convoy, cross the USA
Convoy... Convoy...

Uh, breaker Pig-Pen, this here's The Duck
Uh, you wanna back off them hogs
10-4, 'bout five mile or so, 10-roger
Them hogs is gittin' in-tense up here

By the time we got into Tulsa-Town
We had eighty-five trucks in all
But they's a road block up on the clover leaf
An' them bears 'as wall to wall
Yeah them smokies 'as thick as bugs on a bumper
They even had a bear-in-the-air
I sez callin' all trucks, this here's The Duck
We about to go a huntin' bear

Cause we gotta great big convoy, rockin' through the night
Yeah we gotta great big convoy, ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on an' join our convoy, ain't nothin' gonna git in our way
We're gonna roll this truckin' convoy, cross the USA
Convoy... Convoy...

Uh, you wanna give me a 10-9 on that Pig-Pen?
Uh, negatory Pig-Pen, yer still too close
Yeah, them hogs is startin' close up my sinuses
Mercy sakes, you better back off another ten

Well we rolled up interstate fourty-four
Like a rocket sled on rails
We tore up all a our swindle sheets
An' left 'em settin' on the scales
By the time we hit that Chi-Town
Them bears was a gittin' smart
They'd brought up some reinforcements
From the Illinois National Guard
There 'as armored cars, and tanks, and Jeeps
An' rigs of every size
Yeah them chicken coops 'as full a bears
An' choppers filled the skies
Well we shot the line, an' we went for broke
With a thousand screamin' trucks
And eleven long-haired friends of Jesus
In a chartreusse microbus

Hey Sod Buster, listen
You wanna put that microbus in behind the suicide jockey?
Yeah, he's haulin dynamite
He needs all the help he can git

Well we laid a strip fer the Jersey Shore
An' prepared to cross the line
I could see the bridge 'as lined with bears
But I didn't have a doggone dime
I sez Pig-Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck
We just ain't a gonna pay no toll
So we crashed the gate doin' ninety-eight
I sez, let them truckers roll, 10-4

Cause we gotta mighty convoy, rockin' through the night
Yeah we gotta mighty convoy, ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on an' join our convoy, ain't nothin' gonna git in our way
We're gonna roll this truckin' convoy, cross the USA
Convoy... Convoy...

Uh, 10-4 Pig-Pen, what's yer 20?
Well they oughta know what to do with them hogs out there fer sure
Well mercy sakes alive good buddy
We gonna back on outta here
So keep the bugs off yer glass
An' the bears off yer... tail
We gonna catch ya on the flip-flop
This here's the Rubber Duck on the side
We gone
Bye, Bye...

Monday, June 15, 2009

Just in case…

The writer of this blog died yesterday from injuries sustained while helping hummingbirds eat on a regular basis. He was 42.

The writer of this blog was educated in the Southwest (for a couple of weeks) and the somewhat mid-north-east and worked in various aspects of the golf business before attempting to run a radio station. He was 42.

Reports from his family are that while attempting to walk on a railing to hang another hummingbird feeder from the gutter he slipped and fell and was impaled on a rose bush. He was 42.

In lieu of flowers (as that would be in bad taste) the family asks for donations to be made toward the purchase of a stepladder. He was 42.

Friday, June 12, 2009

As long as my check doesn't bounce...

I’ve joined the Country Club.

I have been intending to join for a long time, but hadn’t gotten around to it. I’d been playing as a guest (I suppose) for a while but the club helped me decide to join by sending me a bill for May and June. Last week.

I had asked a few people how to join (board members) but none of them had gotten me an application. I was afraid this was a hint as to my “join-ability.”

This subtle hint that I should start paying to play was not lost on me and we quickly joined, breaking my streak of 18 years of “free” golf from my labors in the golf industry.

The club here is staffed by volunteers and a few part-time paid people. The pro shop is unmanned most of the time. In fact, since joining I’ve played twice and no one was there to check me in either time.

But we did the right thing and joined. We can use our own golf cart and walk anytime we want. It’s a far cry from where I used to play, but it’s golf.

Thursday, June 11, 2009


This document is to help you understand your role with our company. It outlines duties and standards of performance for your role.

Description of Work:
• To call and call on prospective customers to sell sponsorships, speaking very quickly and saying “uh” about every three seconds.
• To accurately record the results of each call, no matter how embarrassing.
• To submit reports and orders when reminded to repeatedly by your mother.
• To try to stay awake during meetings.

Standards of Performance
• You will always be courteous and polite to the people you call, especially the rude responders, although you may give them the finger and/or make faces into the phone.
• Upon making a sale, you will forget to get the ad copy, mailing address, start date, and name of the person you spoke to as you will be so surprised to have sold anything and immediately hang up before they change their mind.

Agreed to by ________________ on ______________

Station Representative _________________ on _______________________

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Caught red-handed...

I went to a meeting today for a committee/board of directors I have been asked to be a member of. It was my first meeting with a few of them, but the first time in a formal setting for all of them.

Before I left, I had to record the news, since the meeting would take place at 11:30 and the News@Noon really needs to happen sometime around the noon hour in order to satisfy the name.

In printing the script for the news, I found out the printer cartridge was empty. I decided to go to get another one before my meeting. To be safe, I carried the old one with me. When I got one to replace it, I went to pay and noticed the residual ink had leaked on to my hand…bright red.

So I’m off to meet new people in a new setting and I have a bright red right hand. And I don’t want to spend too much time in the bathroom trying to clean up because I didn’t want my new colleagues to think I either had a hand washing fetish or any other problem that may go with spending a bunch of time in the bathroom.

Also, whenever I go into a public restroom, I am ever mindful of having an inordinate amount of water pressure in the sink and soaking myself from the waist down, thereby causing what would appear to be a whole different problem whatsoever.

This kind of complicated minutia/silliness seems to happen to me all the time. Is it just me?

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

If you outlaw insurance, the only ones with insurance will be the outlaws...

Tonight on the History Channel it was Armageddon. No, not the movie, the event.

The seven signs of the apocalypse. The four horsemen, the rivers of blood, Miller Lite, floods, massive earthquakes, etc, etc.

All sponsored by the Travelers Insurance.

I do not have Travelers Insurance, but I assume they are like everyone else…and have an apocalypse exclusion to their coverage. In fact, that could be a great slogan for them…”We got you covered…for everything but the Apocalypse!”

Because the Apocalypse (and the things that seem to go with it) are the very things you couldn’t call your insurance agent for…it being the end of the world and all and the day of judgment being nigh. I don’t suppose on Judgment Day (the event, not the move) you will be asked if you have your insurance policy handy.

So if you think you will live to see the end of the world (apocalypse, Armageddon, etc) during your lifetime, I wouldn't worry about Term Life Insurance.

Monday, June 8, 2009

I traded my wedding band for a chicken...

I’m sure my knowledge of this is incomplete in some way, but that hasn’t stopped me before.

Everyone wants me to buy Gold. It’s the best investment, I’m told. It’s tangible, not like stocks or bonds, they tell me.

Well, wait a minute. First, are they going to mail me the gold if I buy it? The shipping and handling would be rather high, I think. If they don’t send it to me, it’s no more tangible that stock.

(now I know my money is in the bank and it’s not really there…but it’s closer than Ft. Knox or wherever “my” gold would be)

Second, everyone also wants me to sell them my gold chains, earrings and toothbrush. Is this so that I can buy it back from them? Or are they trying to cover the fact that they’ve also sold “my” gold to some guy from Omaha?

Third, if everyone sells their gold, wouldn’t this flood the market with gold and make my gold worth less money? It’s like printing money…it devalues it.

And fourth, people are still prospecting for gold…this would devalue “my” gold also.

I think we should go back to the barter system.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Twenty summers ago...seems like only 17....

One summer I went to Houston, Texas to work at a driving range.

My boss put me in charge of the driving range at night. I usually worked 5-11 pm, five days a week.

I found out a few weeks after I started the reason I was in charge at night and no one else was around. It seems that armed robbers came to hit balls one night and instead of working on their golf swing like everyone else, they robbed the place, taking money and watches from the patrons and threatening to kill them.

A side note: My car (1987 Renault Alliance - car of the year unless you owned it) didn't have air conditioning.

I was housed during this time by friends of the family, who (much to my surprise) continued to be friends of the family, even when I ruined their bathroom rug and occasionally drank more beer than I bought. I did mow the lawn to try to offset any annoyance I may have been caused, but I think I probably got the better of the deal.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Or maybe buttered toast...

Today while I was trying to talk on the phone over the kids screaming, I noticed the Food Network was on.

This is not an unusual thing at my house, but what was unusual was the Barefoot Contessa (who has a show about cooking and has to date, in my experience, not walked out from behind the counter to prove her barefootedness…and has not proved she is a Contessa) was making what she called “Lemonade.”

This was interesting, but only got more so when she proceeded to put water, lemon juice and sugar in a pitcher with some ice. The reason it was interesting was that was all she did....no special additive or twist or anything. This was her show. That was it.

Well, she did mention you could mix the Lemonade with Tea (made by passing hot water through a tea bag, she explained) to make what is called a “half and half.”

But since she isn’t barefoot (I don’t think), and she isn’t a Contessa (a female count) why should we assume she is a cook? She certainly didn’t prove it today…all she proved is that she could probably pass 7th grade home economics. Maybe.

I can’t wait for the next show…maybe she’ll demonstrate how to make a peanut butter sandwich.

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

And my phone never rang...

A guy in a t-shirt keeps measuring the steps of the courthouse…summer workers bring wheelbarrows of sod…a man in a suit with a briefcase walks by…

And I just sit, drinking my pepsi, watching them go…

the Mayor goes into the courthouse…and man comes up the street, then turns back…a mother and 3 small children walk into the courthouse…a truck with at least 100 rocking chairs goes by…

And I just sit, drinking my pepsi, watching them go…

a lady walks by me and goes into the tax assessors office…the barber on the corner is talking to a man outside the post office…squirrels play (or is it work?) on the courthouse lawn…a lady hurries by…

ten more minutes pass...I see the store on the corner open...the flags begin to move with the breeze...the lady with the 3 small children come back out and go down the street...

I finish my pepsi, then I go…

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Actually, 43,560...

I looked it up…there are over 43,000 square feet in an acre.

This came as very bad news to me, since I had just found an artificial grass that only costs $7 or so a square foot (or $301,000 for the whole thing) and as I figure I have about an acre of grassed area it killed my plans for a plastic (and maintenance free) yard.

It’s better than a swimming pool, which I found is about $50 a square foot (or $2.1 million).

I had some other options:
Tile – about $5.50 a square foot…survey says…$238,150
Carpeting – at $22 a square yard (installed) it would be $105,652.
Linoleum – about $3 a square foot…$129,000

Obviously, these were all too expensive. But then I found a way to do it.

I plant corn. An acre yields about 183 bushels…the current price is around $5 per bushel…so that is $915 a year…and (taking out money for seeds and whatnot) I figure I’ll make $300 a year or so…and have my artificial lawn in about a thousand years.

But I’ll never have to mow again.

Monday, June 1, 2009

I'd rather keep what I got and stay off the couch...deal?

Today I heard the disc jockey on Real Country talk about her dog.

She talked about walking him, brushing him, the meals she makes for him and the toys she buys for him at the local Pet Shop. She says he gets on the couch with her and watches TV with her. She told us about how she hates to leave him to go on vacation and what a special dog he is to her.

She talked about how much she’ll miss him if something ever happens to him and that people who don’t take care of their dogs are terrible people without a soul.

She talked about how her dog looks at her with love in his eyes.

She went on and on. She then finished up with a reminder to spay and neuter your dog, as she did when she got him.

I guess love has its limits.