Posted in Humor

SPECIAL REPORT : The plane truth

My granddaughter’s birthday is coming up…

…and so is my dinner at the thought of walking through airports again.

Over the sidewalk and through the ropes

to TSA’s house we go.  

The cops know the way to ruin our day,

they put on quite a show.

Fingers in places no one can see

and hands that grope my boobs

once in the plane, my baggage tucked,

I have to say getting there sucked.

 

 

AND THAT’S THE PLANE TRUTH!

Yep.  It’s nearly time for a fate worse than death — going from the parking lot to the plane.  

On longer flights, I’ll get my Starbuck’s  Chai with honey and soy milk before boarding and sip on it – for 9 hours – to avoid having to use the airplane bathrooms.

I can stuff a carry-on full of crap so well, you’d think it was the inside of a Tardis.  

 

If the airlines weren’t  so blinded by the allure of making a buck, they’d understand we know the truth

Fortunately, I’ve only had this pilot once in my lifetime and lived to tell about it

We were over New York City when the plane went from upright to sideways in a matter of seconds.  The buildings looked like this from the air

Oddly, I was stoic about the fact that if I was about to die, I had the worst possible view ever.  Another name for this brand of stoicism is “Frozen in Fear.”

When you fly crunch class, doesn’t it seem that the flight attendants are a bit irritated at having to provide the drinks and peanuts to 300 people for a 1 hour flight?  

I can’t imagine why.  

The last time I took a plane, this was my flight attendant.

Really.  I’m serious.  I think he poked me with the end of his sword to force me off the plane and into 

ANXIETY CENTRAL

Otherwise known as yet another airpit airport.

I’d rather endure this

Than go through THIS:

You only have to go through a catastrophic plane crash once.

anxietyworkout

If you don’t hear from me next month, you know where I’ll be.

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Posted in Humor, Meerkat Musings

Telling Stories

I fancy myself a writer. It’s a rather lofty aim of mine to one day write a novel – after all, apparently we all have one great novel in us. Personally, I’d like to know who keeps putting novels inside people. I mean, ew.

That aside, my aim would be to write a book for my daughter, who keeps asking me to tell her stories, especially spooky stories. The trouble is, I can’t simply magic up a story off the top of my head, I need to think about it and put it to paper, and my little girl is not nearly patient enough to wait for me to chew the fat and produce a thrilling tale. What I’m therefore doing is putting together a vampire story, and trying to carefully balance it so it’s appropriate for a seven year-old, whilst having it be scary. In theory I can do this, but lines about ‘torn flesh’ and ‘bloodied ruins’ might not be the best choice of words.

Still, to write ‘the creepy vampire bared his fangs’ seems just a little tame.

What’s the limit with kids? My favourite child’s author, Roald Dahl, was not afraid to push the envelope in terms of macabre or disgusting. How about Revolting Rhymes? Or The Twits? How about the brutal opening scene of James and the Giant Peach? Here was a man who understood that children could handle being scared, or grossed out – and not only handle but enjoy it. I dare say the modern successor to Dahl’s style is David Walliams, whose books are in fact quite grim (Demon Dentist and  Awful Auntie, you both have a lot to answer for in my house), and also quite poignant – last Friday marked twenty years since my grandfather passed away, so given the touching ending and words of Grandpa’s Great Escape… well, my eyes were wet, let’s just put it that way.

Perhaps this explains the more sombre tone I am adopting today. Time moves forward so quickly, quicker than we realise – one day I was reading Roald Dahl books and listening my grandfather tell me stories – the next, I am reading Dahl’s stories to my daughter, and reminiscing about my grandfather. To add to my reflective mood, I had a dream about my dear grandmother recently… it was emotional. My brother and I could see her, my little girl couldn’t. This particular dream followed on from a pair of exceptionally weird dreams (Hillary Clinton stepping into the ring in Las Vegas and taking on a heavy champ, check, nuclear war, check), but it meant at least that the dream ended with me seeing my Nan. I can’t ask for more than that.

Wow, this started out as ‘Telling Stories’ and I guess that’s true. I’ve spun a bit of a yarn here after all. I guess that’s what we all need to keep doing – tell stories, listen to each other, and I’ll sign off this post with the words at the end of Grandpa’s Great Escape

‘As long you as you love me, I can never die.’

Posted in Shouts from the Abyss

Breaking: Irma Shaves – Special Report

reporter-1“The storm is here,” said the governor. Everyone looked out their windows and said, “Hey, he’s right!”

Bulletin, bulletin, bulletin! Bulletin, bulletin, bulletin! The sun did not come up this morning, huge cracks have appeared in the earth’s surface, and big rocks are falling out of the sky. Details twenty-five minutes from now on Action Central News, kids!

–George Carlin, Take-offs and Put-ons, 1967

First Harvey, now Irma. Leave it to a woman to be forced to pick up after a man, even though an unimaginable gulf exists between them. What else is new?

reporter-2Speaking of news, we have embedded 42 reporters who are now reporting live from the hardest hit areas. You know where, right? The areas where everyone was ordered to evacuate. Luckily, reporters are not well known for listening to reason.


“Hey, boss. You know that hurricane that’s about to hit the mainland?”

Continue reading “Breaking: Irma Shaves – Special Report”

Posted in Floridaborne, Humor

Not So Special Report : Miss Me?

All right.  I admit it.  I missed the July NWR deadline by an entire month.  Did anyone miss me?

I think I hear Simon and Garfunkel playing “The Sounds of Silence.”

Talk about a frigid welcome – My readers weren’t the only entities giving me a cold shoulder recently.  It was a record 80 degrees in Florida today.  Any colder and I’ll be grabbing my coat.

She forgot the socks

Did you know I once lived in Houston, Texas?  My daughter used to live in the area that Hurricane Harvey flooded.  It’s notorious for that.  She moved to Oklahoma, where it’s a lot safer.  Now, she only has to worry about 2 mile wide tornadoes. 

Harvey is going back into the gulf for another drink of water so he can pee on Houston some more.  Who says mother nature isn’t vindictive? 

What’s next?  80 degree weather in Yellow knife – in January?  I wouldn’t put it past Earth to tilt on her axis so that Ecuador can take Antarctica’s place.  There’s something just not right about having palm trees in Canada.

 

So now that I’m drinking soup…in August…in Florida…without air conditioning (because I hate it – no, the A/C, not the soup), I’ll tell you why I missed my deadline in July.

Work.

My work load doubled and August was on the calendar before I had a chance to enjoy July.

Before you ream me a new one just because I went from ½ time to ¾ time in the work force, I’ll remind you of a very important fact.  I retired for 2 months and 8 of the longest days of my life waaaay back in December 2016.  When I was asked to come back (my replacement didn’t work out) my boss asked, “How long do you want to work?” 

I replied, “Until I die.”

So while you’re dreaming about gathering sand fleas on the seashore, my top priority is having enough money coming in to feed dogs and cats (they seem to expect that), eat, pay bills, and have something to do besides sit around waiting to die.

As a reminder that I have more than paid my dues in this club called life, when I was 15, this is how we sent text messages

You put the letter in an envelope and sent it out.  In week or two, you received a reply.  I guarantee it contained whole words written by people who were actually happy to hear from you.

This was my first computer — at the age of 34 during my 3rd year of college

Held 15 pages of text in a 6 inch floppy disk.’

If you went over 15 pages, the entire document disappeared, but it was better than the IBM selectric, where the “cut  and paste” feature was an eraser and a bottle of liquid paper — if you were lucky.  Otherwise, you had to type the entire page over again.

This was my first computer printer

The state-of-the-art Daisy Wheel printer produced 1 character per second.

Now I get to walk around seeing people talking into their Dick Tracy phones while they’re texting on their smart phone with a piece of plastic in their ear and another smart phone in their pocket in the rare event a call comes in from work.

It was envisioned by the author of Dick Tracy that one day the talking phone might be used for something that’s actually…useful, not chattering about how ridiculous Kardashians look in flip flops.

So…yes.  I did miss my deadline.  But if a deadline comes and goes – and nobody  in the cyberforest is there to hear it fall — it obviously didn’t make an impact.  Just to show you that I am capable of making a deadline when I’m supposed to, I’m publishing this 2 days early.

It just hit 77 degrees. Excuse me while I wander off to look for my coat.

Posted in Humor, Meerkat Musings

The Case of the Bad Memory

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I had so many ideas for a post, and I kept telling myself ‘I’ll write it soon, I’ll start it today, I’ll get it done’. What happened? Did some super urgent secret mission take me away from my plans? Was I abducted by aliens? Did some fantastical amazing event lead my astray? Nope. None of the above. I forgot. I will therefore perform self-flagellation in the form of this post. It’s my way of apology to you, the Nudge Wink community.

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What was I saying? Oh yeah, Daleks! I recently posted about the appearance of a man taking his Dalek for a walk, and mentioned it was the fourth weirdest thing I’ve seen from the store window.

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See, I didn’t make that up! And yes, it’s the fourth weirdest thing. I have seen weirder – or scarier, depending on your perspective. Don’t worry though, we have the Doctor!

JodieWhittaker Dr Who

Take that you stupid Dalek!

What might be stranger than a man taking his Dalek for a walk down the high street? Well, for one, there’s Snake Man! Not sadly, a man whose half-man, half-snake, but rather a man who was carrying some form of snake on his shoulders as he walked down the street. Quite what compelled him to take a snake for a walk, we will never know.

There’s the Shouter – we watched him go back and forth, over and over again, whilst hurling abuse at the local pub across the road. Quite what the pub had done to him, I don’t know. He is in fact one of several shouters – ranging from the harmless, to the ones that might be genuinely dangerous, which leads me on to the weirdest/scariest thing I’ve witnessed outside the store window – the Knife Idiots.

timondubious

Yep, the other day a pair of… well, I can’t call them adults because their behaviour was anything but – a pair of creatures decided the sensible way to resolve their conflict was to stand outside the pub waving blades at each other whilst screaming obscenities. It lurched between being sadly amusing and downright terrifying – though the wave of the blades was half-hearted and it was all a display of pointless, desperate bravado. Hands up if you’re impressed by that…

The Dalek was smarter, and it was possibly an empty shell.

For the record, where I work is not actually a bad area, it just has miscreants, like anywhere would. It just seems that half of them enjoy displaying their strange or unruly behaviour outside my shop window.

 

Posted in 1 Point Perspective, Humor

Games Over

It can be a struggle being a curmudgeon, but sometimes they make it awfully easy for me.  Take for example the “news” story I recently read which implied that there was some consideration for making gaming an Olympic sport.  To clarify, the term “gaming” does not refer to the games which already award medals to the best players/teams in a given sport.  Sports such as handball, synchronized swimming and curling are already well established Olympic fare.

This is a humor blog, and as such, I have a moral obligation to make at least one reference to this boob. Video games are dangerous – people shouldn’t be allowed to wreak carnage on others simply by pushing buttons! (Image of actual Trump Tweet from the interwebs)

The gaming to which the article refers is the video form.  In fairness, I should disclose that the “article” to which I am referring is barely more than click bait in its depth and quality. I scanned through two or three paragraphs worth.  Someone from the gaming community was going to meet with someone from the Olympic community to talk about the possibility of gaming being recognized as an Olympic sport.  It’s possible that this whole subject has been inflated just to rile up old coots like me.

I see a Wheaties cover in this guy’s future! (Meme from IGN dot com – Original image from the geniuses at South Park))

As a kid, I looked up to my Olympic heroes.  American athletes went up against villains with consonant-laden names from places like the Soviet Union and East Germany. They played sports that most of us only saw once every four years. Those two countries don’t even exist anymore and one of our old Olympic idols has recently gotten breast implants, a reality show and changed his name to Caitlyn. Excuse me if I get a little pissy that the Olympics may soon be giving out medals for having the high score for Donkey Kong.

Most people agree that this thumb is proof of juicing by the Uzbekistan team. (Meme from wastedpotatoes dot com)

Proponents of video games will contend that world champions have incredibly fast reflexes and dexterity.  I don’t mean to brag, but I manage to guzzle 20 ounces of steaming coffee every morning, often while behind the wheel in New Jersey commuter traffic.  I seldom spill (much of) it on my shirt.  While I humbly admit that my reflexes and dexterity must be pretty damn good, I don’t need an award.  Going through my workday without a giant brown stain down the front of my shirt is satisfaction enough.

The possibilities raise more questions than answers:

  • Will there eventually come a day when actual Olympic sports are replaced by their virtual counterparts?
  • How many times have we heard commentators remark about changing conditions on a ski slope or had asterisks next to finishing times because it was wind aided?
  • When was the last time you heard someone complain about divots on Wii Golf?
  • Will the perfection of the digital arenas take the place of the faulty state of the real world?
  • What’s the point of these questions?
  • How long will it take before the Uzbekistan team gets exposed for using cheat codes during their historic bronze medal performance in the “Grand Theft Auto – Chump City” consolation match against a tough Netherlands squad?

Perhaps the day will even come when it’s a novelty for athletes to compete on actual grass in actual weather in actual sports.  Old farts like me will be long gone by then of course. I hope someone digs this gem out from the bowels of the internet and I get the credit I deserve for this spiffy bit of predicting.  No need for a parade or anything, though a posthumous medal would be nice.