I think we all can agree this year (2020) has been a real pain in the ass. So many things that dismayed, disappointed, and disgusted the majority of us. I just came across this short video with a Holiday Message for the past year. It conveys my sentiments exactly. Quite likely yours too.
Category Archives: humor
You can hear the wind howl
And feel it shaking the house
As the dog's quick to growl
And is shushed by my spouse.
SCE proactively turned off our power
Last night at 7 was when it went dead
Hoping now in the kitchen the milk doesn't sour
Yet the butter I've found is so easily spread.
It's not just the reefer I worry about
It's more than the food that might spoil
It's my iPhone's ability to let me shout out
When its battery gets low on oil.
So I sit here and wait for my phone to go dead
And try to ignore angry thoughts in my head
Cause they told us the power won't be back 'til tomorrow
And I've little to do save to drown in my sorrow.
Thankfully, the power came on an hour or so after I finished writing this and nothing spoiled. We got lucky, IMO.
I have mentioned before that I have a lot of Photoshop work I’ve yet to share, though I have shared them on Facebook and Twitter; just not here on my blog. So, I thought I would share these two related images. They were, of course, inspired by the Grifty-Family-In-Chief’s professionalism and ability to avoid the appearance of impropriety in their daily lives in the White House and as the Executive function of the United States of America.
Both of these photos were originally used by these two criminals to push products for the Goya label. Frankly, I don’t even remember why (and I’m too lazy and pressed for time to research it right now; maybe I’ll come back to it) but I think it had something to do with the owner or CEO’s support of Trump.
As I’ve noted previously, I am working on a couple of memoirs and my autobiography. In doing so, I’ve been conducting a bit of archaeological research on my two current computers’ contents. I have a PC laptop and an iMac. The laptop is going on three years old and the Mac was purchased around June of 2010, right after I retired from Rocketdyne, though it crapped out while it was still under warranty, and the CPU and most of the other components were replaced with those of a newer model.
Something I hadn’t been thinking about much was that I had moved all of my personal files from my years at Rocketdyne, as well as a lot of writing I did while I was there that isn’t worth their energy to call protected IP. At any rate, I’m encountering things I had long forgotten existed and I’d like to share some of them.
This is a press release I’m pretty sure I wrote tongue-in-cheek, but I’m not sure what happened with it. It was, if the file metadata is correct, written in early February of 2006, a little over 14.5 years ago. I can’t recall the last time I read a physical copy of the L.A. Times.
For Immediate Release
In an amazing display of ineptness and communications failure, and for the third time in almost as many weeks, the Los Angeles Times’ home delivery department, Ventura County division, on Sunday, February 5, completely mismanaged the delivery of the Times Sunday edition to the home of a Simi Valley family.
For years, this weekend edition, complete with both the opinion section and numerous advertisements and coupons, has been delivered to the Ladd family double wrapped in plastic and sealed to protect it from being soaked by the sprinkler system which, unfortunately, drains water in the exact location where the paper seems to be most conveniently placed by the L.A. Times’ intrepid delivery person.
Approximately four to five weeks ago, and without any explanation or reason which would be immediately apparent to the Ladds, the paper started being delivered with one, unsealed plastic bag. This difference, however, was not matched by a change in location used to place the paper and, the laws of physics and water being what they are, the paper wicked up enough liquid to add several pounds to its weight. As a side effect, it made reading the articles and advertisements contained in the Times virtually impossible.
Up until the 5th of February, subsequent to calls to the Times’ Customer Service automated telephone number, a new paper has twice been delivered within the promised 90 minutes. The last time brought an apology and a promise to see the paper was sufficiently wrapped and it was, in fact, delivered dry on January 29th. However, the following week, on February 5, the paper was once again single wrapped, and soaking wet by the time it was retrieved.
Richard Ladd immediately called the Times’ Customer Service automated telephone number, once again pressing the button to inform the electronic system that there was, indeed, a delivery problem involving an automatic sprinkler system and a wet newspaper. He then entered his phone number and street address, and was informed a new paper would be delivered within 90 minutes.
As of midnight, at the beginning of a new week, the Sunday edition of the Los Angeles Times had not been delivered to the Ladd family, causing them to wonder if they shouldn’t just throw in the towel and cancel their subscription, opting instead to read the paper (assuming they even care any longer) on the Internet, and either celebrating or bemoaning (they are currently not quite sure which it should be) the continuing slide of print media into oblivion.
– END –
All I really wanted was to try that bacon maple bar, but all those other things jumped in the box before I could stop them … and they’re so cute I just couldn’t resist. Besides, I figured Linda and the girls might want something too.
BTW – There’s a crumb-covered cinnamon roll underneath that French cruller and those donut holes in the back right.
Now – I want to find a place that does the maple bacon thing with crumbled bacon sprinkled over the top instead of that rasher. Same amount, different presentation.
I just had to share what may be one of the finest videos created in the battle to NOT re-elect Donald Trump. It came to my attention via The Lincoln Project who, to their credit, posted a link to the original and asked people to like it and subscribe to the author’s YouTube account. The author is not affiliated with the Lincoln Project and I don’t think he even expected his work to reach the number of folks it’s reached. It’s pure genius.
If you don’t recognize where this is from, it was put together from the interview Jonathan Swan did for Axios, which was a mind-blower. For the record, Trump truly is a fucking moron . . . and an idiot . . . and a fool . . . and a dangerously sociopathic criminal. Vote him out!
PS – The author’s name is Justin T. Brown.
Little by little I’m moving all of my posts from my old blog, The Cranky Curmudgeon, which still exists as a Blogspot site. This one is a bit over 14 years old, posted on 10 March 2006. Can’t say I’m particularly proud of these verses, but they are what they are, i.e. part of my “collected works” so to speak. Anyway, you be the judge. Frankly, the whole idea of Cowboy Haiku remains a bit strange, IMO.
I was reminded there’s a whole lot of Cowboy poetry out there nowadays. A quick Google shows lots of links. Here’s the first one returned http://www.cowboypoetry.com/. Anyway, I just wanted to be the first to publish a few Cowboy Haiku. I don’t have titles for them; they’re fresh off the ol’ keyboard. Here ya go, pard. Hope ya lahk ’em.
This cowboy wears spurs
They will jingle all the night
If he gets lucky
My hat does not fit
Perhaps it is because
My head is swollen
Blood on the saddle
Could it mean I really have
Hemorrhoids to boot?
This post is from my old blog, The Cranky Curmudgeon. It was written nearly 14 years ago, shortly after my oldest’s fifth birthday.
So what is it with Thank You cards? When did they become de rigeur . . . a fixture of every child’s birthday and gift-giving Winter solstice celebration?
My daughter celebrated her 5th birthday recently and we had a party for over twenty children and adults. We provided entertainment for the children, lots of food and drink for everybody, really nice loot bags for the kids, a large cake, and a pinata filled with lots of candy. My wife spent around a week’s worth of her spare time researching and purchasing everything necessary to make the kids feel special. This included purchasing inexpensive cowboy/cowgirl hats and bandanas, as the party was held at a nearby farm where the kids could feed animals and enjoy some really fun and clever rides. I spent a good 10 – 15 hours running around and picking up things and making arrangements. We really wanted everyone to have a good time.
Now comes the aftermath. My wife is not the best at sending out Thank You cards, and I have virtually no experience doing it at all. I mean, isn’t it against the law for men to do this kind of thing – no matter how sensitive they are? So . . . here it is, a couple of weeks later and the cards she took the time to purchase are still sitting on the table . . . in their original box. They’re taunting me. Like chocolate in a candy dish, I sometimes hear them calling out my name.
Isn’t a sincere “Thank You” at the party’s end enough for everybody? I don’t know; maybe she feels better about not doing it than I do, but why do I have this sinking feeling we must carry some sort of guilt because we have yet to send a hand-written, personalized note written by us as though it was our child channeling Emily Post or Martha Stewart?
Here’s an example of a Thank You we received the day after a 5-year-old’s birthday party:
Thank for coming to my birthday party. I was really happy you could be there. The Spiderman backpack will be really useful next year in Kindergarten to carry my laptop as I’m learning how to post covered calls without the help of my broker.
Now how are we going to follow that?