Posted in Floridaborne, Humor

Retiredment

You’ve probably heard that old cliché, “I’m a day late and a dollar short.”

Well, I just retired, so I’m 2 days late for my November post and now I’m short by 1/2 my income. 

It’s the second day, and I’m already wondering how I’m going to buy  groceries next month.  Not that I don’t have enough to buy $20 worth of groceries for the month, but I still worry.

My family, all of whom voted for Hillary Clinton, have questioned my sanity as of late. 

I’ve calculated that if I burn a parked car and then point my loaded clam-shell phone at the police, I’ll end up in jail.  The food there is better than a nursing home, and I’ll have more rights.

Just a thought.  I’m still working on completely stripping down my entire budget.

I just had another thought!  I could panhandle by threatening to strip right there on the street if I don’t get $20.  But then I’d end up in jail anyway.  Or under 72 hours of mental health scrutiny.  

I’m a writer…I can’t afford to have my mental health scrutinized.  

I want to live in the same retirement community this human is living in:

Since I’m not insanely rich, that will never be an option.

I have only one alternative:

Why did I retire in the first place?  I tell people it’s so I have more time to write.  

Really?  And how am I going to afford to get my books edited?

demotivators.com knows the truth:

I’m still with one, and another one died, but when I left 3 of my 5 husbands, this was my motto:  

P1050730.JPG

It’s the same thing with a job.  I’d rather know when it’s time to leave than to be told, “retire or be fired.”

Instead of a frown and a finger pointing at the door, I received a delicious cake, a nice party,  some fantastic comments about my work skills, and a gift that I can actually use.

Had I been able to wait, this is when I would’ve retired:

I live in Florida already, but frankly this unfortunate truism scares the hell out of me:

That’s what Northerners look like when they’re sitting on the beach in January.

This is what I look like when I’m sitting in a restaurant with the A/C turned up too high:

Yes, that’s me in the hat.

Anyone north of the Florida border is from “up north.”

I don’t want people to move here from up north!  They buy a lot, cut down all the trees, build houses with small windows, plant the trees they loved when they lived up north, and they complain bitterly when it’s hot in the summer, cold in the winter, and nothing they plant (whether trees or crappy ideas like “that’s not how we do it up north”) wants to live here.

This is Florida.  If you don’t have a lot full of trees and large windows surrounding your house, you’re going to be very, very uncomfortable.  If you didn’t listen to me when I told you this the first time, you’re stupid.  You can’t fix stupid and I don’t want to hear you complaining about your $500 a month A/C bill.  

Okay.  So now that I’ve gotten that rant out of my system, I’m ready to continue.

Perhaps I can take an online course in interior decorating.  I have such good ideas:

Here are my final thoughts about my impending ultra-poverty experience:

Either that, or I’ll be 106 years old, won’t be aware enough to know that I’m not an insanely rich writer living on an tropical island…

…and that ball of fiery rock will be the last thing I’m trying to see.

Until then, I’ll be haunting the bread outlets, standing in line with my friends for free food, and hoping that my 1992 Chevy will last long enough for an efficient cross-country mass transit system to be built.

That, by my calculations, will probably be completed 39 years from now, a year before the asteroid hits.

Posted in Carla Louise, Humor

Welcome To Australia

I know that Australia is confusing to a lot of people. I mean, we speak a different language (and we like to shorten everything, especially names):

  • Straya
  • Stubbies (could mean footy shorts or beers)
  • Which brings me to the next one … footy
  • G’day (hello)
  • Bikkie (biscuit)
  • Maccas (McDonald’s)
  • Acadaca (which is weird, because normally we like to shorten things, but this time we decided to lengthen something!)
  • Devo (devastated)
  • Arvo (afternoon)
  • Din-Dins (strangely, I only ever say this to my dog …)
  • Brekkie (breakfast)
  • Servo (service station)
  • Bottle-o (liquor store)
  • Garbo (garbage man)
  • Postie (postman)
  • Smoko (smoke break)
  • Rego (registration)
  • Agro (aggressive)
  • Preggers (pregnant)
  • Cabbie (cab driver)
  • Prezzie (present)
  • Vinnies (St Vincent’s)
  • Salvos (Salvation Army)
  • Cuppa (cup of tea)

I could go on, but the point is, we clearly have our own, awesome language. (Also, despite the fact that I’m an English teacher – and actually quite good at English, I’m known to have the best words – I actually kind of forgot some of the “real” names, because I’ve become so accustomed to using slang.)

However, despite our awesome made-up language that really is totes real, so are our warnings about our deadly fauna and flora.

Seriously.

Like, I know Australians like to tell everyone about drop bears because it’s funny to scare foreigners (well, to only those of us who lack compassion, which has never been me *cough*), but seriously, half our animals and plants will kill you.

Image result for beware drop bears

Or at least try to.

Like Koala Bears. They’re called bears for a reason, people.

And there was that time we had a war with emus. Yes, you’re not reading that wrong.

I would also like to take the time to bow my head in shame and say that we lost that war.

Emus literally beat us.

Fucking emus.

Image result for war with emus

But don’t believe me that everything here wants to kill you?

Well, last week a spider ate a mouse.

Yes, you read the sentence right and no, that wasn’t a typo. A fucking spider ate a fucking mouse. (Also part of Australian culture – swear excessively. To be honest, I’m on the low end of the swearing spectrum. We also don’t consider ass, crap, damn or hell to be swear words, either.)

Anyway, you can Google the spider eating a mouse if you want, but I’m not including it on account of a fucking spider ate a fucking mouse.

And that shit’s just fucked.

But, if that doesn’t sound scary enough for you, I’d like to show you a video of a snake eating a crocodile.

Yes, you also read that sentence right.

A snake literally ate a fucking crocodile.

Welcome to Australia.

Posted in Humor, News, Too Full To Write

Haiku News! Part 3 – Technically, Let’s Get Visual – Poetic News Commentary For The Masses

Howdy peoples.

It’s that time of the month again where things start getting strange, as I delve into the weirdest, wackiest and most inventive news stories I can come up with and give them my own particular twist of haiku infused justice for you, the masses.

Did I ever tell you that you guys and gals are bonkers, just like me?

But then we like it that way – never change!

So, would you little devils like some more Haiku News Commentary to brighten up your weekend?

(You don’t? Well tough, that’s all we got!)

This time round I’ve decided to focus specifically on news stories that feature technological developments, so hold on to your lunch and let’s blast off!

 

Car in a bag

What will Japan think of next

Copter in a hat?

inspectorgadgethat

(Original News Story – WalkCar: Hands-on with Japan’s car-in-a-bag / Pic:- Inspector Gadget)

 

Introverts unite

Pizzas delivered by drone

Never leave your home

spongebobtechnology

(Original News Story – Pizza company offers drone deliveries and other news / Pic:- SpongeBob Squarepants)

 

Chain smoking robots

Where have we seen that before?

Ah! Futurama!

futurama

(Original News Story – The chain-smoking robot and other tech news / Pic:- Comedy Central/Futurama)

 

Human head transplants

Too freaky, like Frankenstein

Replace brains instead

man-with-two-brains-quotes

(Original News Story – Human head transplant moves a step closer / Pic:- The Man With Two Brains)

 

Preserving bodies

Cryonics is expensive

Turn thermostat off

freezing

(Original News Story – How cryonics works: Process of freezing bodies explained / Pic:- Austin Powers)

 

Fired by text message

You’re delivering bad news

Not fast food, you jerks!

getting-fired-by-text-message-500x300b

(Original News Story – Firing by text message: taboo or the way of the future?)

 

Robot dinosaurs

That learn, evolve and adapt

Run? Can’t, pooped my pants

sciencedinosaur

(Original News Story – Robotic dinosaurs at U.K. theme park upgraded with cognitive software)

 

Tricked by some click bait

Fake news in your Facebook feed

Tip – facts are not fun

facebookabrahamlincoln

(Original News Story – CNN – Here’s how to outsmart fake news in your Facebook feed)

And that’s your lot for this time round, thank you for stopping by and if you have any ideas or suggestions that you want me to tackle for next time then feel free to leave a comment below🙂

Posted in Humor, Meerkat Musings

Now for my Scheduled Post…

Last week I posted when I thought it was my turn to post, and it turns out it wasn’t. I poured my creative juices into my rant, and now I’m squeezing the lemons of creativity and getting only bitterness.

So, what to say? There’s one gigantic orange elephant in the room, or to be precise, an orange elephant that will soon take up residence in the White House, and I’ve deliberately avoided posting about this on my main site or elsewhere, up to this point, in order to digest this news. Three days on, I still have indigestion. I was sorely tempted to simply post this:

timonscared

timonannoyed2

timonannoyed

Timon7

I think Timon’s various looks of worry and fear accurately sum up the mood of the world. A man with a proven track record for bankrupting businesses is now going to hold sway over the global economy. I hoped everyone likes tinned peaches. A man who gets the thumbs up from quasi-dictator Vladimir Putin (if that doesn’t scare you nothing will) will be responsible for making policy.

Trump isn’t even the worst thing about this. The Republican party, a party so divided it’s mathematically impossible to explain, has held the Senate and Congress. They now control all three branches of the US government system, and yet half the party despises Trump. What does that spell for Trump’s presidency, and by extension, how will it impact those of us who live elsewhere? Maybe, just maybe, the utter failure of Trump to work with his party will break the GOP to the point where the US electorate realises they made a collectively huge mistake and the Dems crush them next time around.

Though part of me actually wants Trump to succeed. A tanking US economy will inevitably tank the UK economy too (assuming the Tories don’t manage that first). If Trump follows through with his stated goal of cutting back support for NATO, where will the buffer come from to prevent future Russian aggression in countries like Ukraine? I’ve heard the ludicrous suggestion that Hillary wanted war with Russia – erm, hands up if you truly believe that? The men in white coats are waiting outside.

I’m struggling to make this post light-hearted and funny. It’s proving to be an epic challenge. How can I be funny when Trump’s intended VP, Pence, believes he can ‘cure’ people of homosexuality? Or that smoking isn’t bad for you?

Within days of Trump’s victory, there’s been a surge in racist and sexist tweets and comments from his supporters, who are taking this as the freedom to be as openly vile as possible. I know I know – it isn’t fair to tarnish them all like that – but it’s not a promising sign.

Le sigh.

 

Posted in Humor, Meerkat Musings

The Trump Card

I know, I know, I know, I said I wouldn’t do serious. I said that last time – see?

capture

But how can I ignore the encroaching and onrushing US election, now only days away, that promises to refine the world? Orange is getting closer to Hilary in the polls – FBI, if you’re reading this (and by using the word FBI, I assume you’ll track this post), what the fuck were you thinking?!

This is serious. This is like, the most serious of all serious things that could be happening right now. The future not only of ‘Murica but the entire world hinges on the decision of the US electorate, and meanwhile, you’re stirring up emails again, and they’re not even relevant! Does the word ‘timing’ compute in Quantico? I watch Criminal Minds – when Hotchner isn’t kicking his colleagues he’s got a smart head on his shoulders – assign your agents to the task of stopping serial killers, rather than poking around emails. Continue reading “The Trump Card”

Posted in 1 Point Perspective, Humor

A Man With A Plan

I was once told by a very wise man, that I “thought too much”.  Sadly, he didn’t stick around this earth long enough for me to let him know that he was onto something.

I’d love to say that I’ve managed to get my over-active brain under control, but that’s not happening.  Despite all the magic elixirs the distillers of America, Scotland and Mexico can muster, I still have a tough time putting my gray matter into sleep mode.  As if I didn’t have enough things to worry about with the world, I’ve been bombarded with an onslaught of political propaganda for the past six months to drive almost anyone cuckoo.  The “green” candidates alone have filled my mailbox with enough paper campaign flyers to reforest Utah.

Conceptual diagram illustrating the brain of the author at this moment in time. Keep your fashion comments to yourself. Illustration by the author and his handy cell phone.
Conceptual diagram illustrating the brain of the author at this moment in time. Keep your fashion comments to yourself. Illustration by the author and his handy cell phone.

Despite my raging-yet-ragged brain, or perhaps because of it, I’m not going to waste your time giving my opinion on which candidate deserves your precious vote. I’m not a political expert, nor am I particularly media savvy.  I certainly don’t wish to use my massive blogging platform to give either candidate an edge just because of my fickle opinion.

Instead, I’m going to let you in on my plan.  That’s right, I have a plan.  In spite of my scheme being the fruit of a hyper-active cranium, it’s admittedly vague and riddled with flaws.  That being said, it’s still something, and its existence might just be enough to get me through the next week or more.

As much as I’ve tried to ignore the political nonsense, it’s had its effect on me.  I’ve become convinced that the end of the world as we know it is just around the corner – like say around lunchtime Wednesday, possibly as late as Happy Hour over at the Blue Monkey.  The prospect of having to choose between Trump and Clinton may be just enough to make a sizable portion of the population say something along the lines of:

“Fuck it! We had a good coupla hundred years, amiright?  Hell, even if you count the Great Depression and the time the NFL went on strike – this country rocked!  All good things come to an end though, just like ‘Breaking Bad’ or ‘Gilligan’s Island’.  Let’s just torch the place and maybe make some smores with the kids while we watch it burn.”

Having co-existed with my brain for over half a century, I knew better than to give credence to such outlandish fantasies without a little more evidence.  Perhaps a sign of the coming end-of- days would solidify my fears.  Then the Chicago Cubs won the World Series.  I’m hardly a baseball fan, but I know a harbinger of doom when I see it.  When you combine the win with Vladdy Putin being buddies with Steven Segal and Kim Jung Un having diplomatic meetings with Dennis Rodman, it’s time to act.

So I went out to Walmart and bought a water purification gizmo, a flint for starting fire like they do on “Survivor” and a few hundred feet of something called “para-cord” (It’ll come in handy if I need to lash something to something else, or hang some clothes to dry after washing them in a drainage ditch). I splurged on a multi-tool which looks even cooler than my original multi-tool but doesn’t have a corkscrew.

I know I'm going to regret the lack of a corkscrew, but at least I'll have no shortage of options for keeping my nose hairs well groomed during the apocalypse. Also the punch outs on the handle really cut down on the size - this puppy weighs in at a mere 1 lb. 7 ounces. For tactical reasons, I will not reveal if this is or is not the actual multi-tool I purchased. (Illustration of Gerber Multi-tool from midwayusa dot com)
I just know I’m going to regret the lack of a corkscrew, but at least I’ll have no shortage of options for keeping my nose hairs well groomed during the apocalypse. Also the punch outs on the handle really cut down on the size – this puppy weighs in at a mere 1 lb. 7 ounces. For tactical reasons, I will not reveal if this is or is not the actual multi-tool I purchased. (Illustration of Gerber Multi-tool from midwayusa dot com)

As residents of suburbia, it’s doubtful my wife and I will be able to escape to the wilderness where we could eke out a meager existence in a hut made of  sticks and para-cord.  There’s simply too much urban blight between us and the mountains.  Yeah Philly, I’m talking about you (Please don’t tell Camden we’re here).  More likely than not, we’ll just hunker down in my modest home and wait for looters.  I don’t have any firearms but I do own a nearly complete set of kitchen knives and a whiffle ball bat, so the interlopers will have to be pretty close before I’ll be able to filet any of them.

Food is going to be an issue, as my wife is a vegetarian.  She’ll probably be a little fussy about eating the dog when the time comes.  We’ve got a few bags of dried beans laying in the back of the cabinet  from the last time I thought the world was ending.  If we were hungry enough we could resort to making quinoa – by that stage we wont have to worry about sharing it with the dog.

Having lived through Hurricane Sandy, I’ve got a ton of flashlights and three or four AA batteries.  I’m thinking that rechargeable batteries and a solar charger would be good to have.  There’s a good chance my wife will kill me for buying all of this crap before I ever get a chance to use it.

I’ll have to make sure I show her how to use the flint to start a fire before she sees the Amazon bill.

 

Posted in Humor

Ammonade

tom-bundy
Actual photo of your intrepid reporter impersonating a Bundy.

Momma always said, “when life give you Ammons, make ammonade.” Goes well with the blood of tyrants, I reckon.

I want to like the Bundy clan, I really do, but I find them a little standoffish. Yeah, I said it.

When I saw the Nudge Wink Report schedule and that I had been assigned October 29th, I resigned myself to the wacky Halloween episode shtick. I mean, c’mon! Pumpkin spice pancakes?! Again? Amiright?!

Luckily, though, fates intervened and gave me even scarier fodder. I’m not one to back down, so here goes. I’m birthing a post of pith and wisdom regarding the Bundy Clan. (Wacky birthing episode is my second favorite shtick.)

Continue reading “Ammonade”