Monday’s Amusing Musings

 

 

I got credit for insisting that we call the usual mantra of objections to sensible policies “stalking points” instead of “talking points.”

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I had a nightmare I went to prison. As part of my punishment, the warden told me I had to choose between losing a foot by amputation or watching Fox News. Even in my nightmare, I looked him in the eye and told him I looked forward to saving money on socks.

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Believe it or not, I almost got arrested again at the Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market. I got into a terrible fight. Punches were thrown, blood and tears fell, elbows hit the ground. The good news is that I won. But one thing I’ve learned is that you can’t let 74 year-old ladies push you around.

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It is easy to be too good at one’s job. I worked one day as a photographer’s assistant in 1999. The photographer couldn’t get one quarrelsome child to smile, frown or make any reaction. Looking menacingly my way, my new boss glanced over at me and muttered, “Get a reaction out of the kid while I try to take his picture.” I went up to the child and whispered, “Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and The Tooth Fairy aren’t real.” Getting punched by the child’s mom was certainly a reaction.

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Whether you tend to say “See the good in everyone” or “See the God in everyone,” know in your heart that most of us aren’t intending to cause harm.
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Have you ever noticed that those people who claim not to be prejudiced are the worst? At least I assume they are claiming innocence. It’s hard to tell when their hoods are so tangled up in their mouths like that.
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I also worked for 4 days as a cook in one of those horrid grease pit diners that are always conveniently located next to the mortician or the interstate. One of the regulars came in, sat down and hollered at me across the counter in a voice saturated in cigarette rasp: “Hey, cook, do you know how to make waffles?” Without missing a beat I hollered back, “Make them do what?” He may not have had much sense – or sense of humor, but he certainly knew how to get someone to go through a plate glass window without straining himself.
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The American Sexual Studies Institute has announced it will save $3,000,000 annually by cancelling its yearly comprehensive sexual behavior questionnaires contract. Instead, they will now solely employ bakers in the South, who all now require a full explanation of their customer’s sexual habits prior to selling them custom pastries. ‪#‎freeinformation‬
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A uniform is what you put on to go to work, while a costume is something you wear to entertain. If people pay to watch you work, that is entertainment, not work, even if someone is paying you. FYI…
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I’m not good with sports. I mistakenly voted for “Conch of The Year” at a sport award event I was dragged to. I was thinking, “What’s up with the marine theme this year?” but voted anyway. It was fun watching the Sports Association Director read out all the votes for nomination. PS: Sports fans are largely characterized by their complete lack of appreciation for the ridiculous, even though most sports look like the costumes are designed by the production staff for the “Wizard of Oz,” and a failed OSHA inspector
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Just to confuse those with no sense of society, I’m going to create my own version of Cracker Barrel. I’m going to call it Cracker Barél, using the same signage and everything. Except my version is going to be staffed by Nathan Lane sound-alikes, decorated by Barbara Streisand, and the camouflage inside is going to be pink paisley-colored. I’ll serve only brunch and afternoon tea. “Mimosas for everyone. Cue the confusion,” will be the initial slogan.
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You know you’re old when you hear Prince’s song and wish you could potty like it was 1999.
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Methelaneous: A variation of ‘miscellaneous’ that people using meth sometimes use to describe when they do everything at once. That’s what it would sound like if the whistle in their teeth wasn’t so deafening.
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I discovered that my humor was starting to bother people. Andy walked up to me this morning and asked “Do you know how to write a Last Will & Testament?” Oblivious to his real intentions, I replied, “Sure, I can do that.” Andy pointed his finger in my face and angrily whispered, “Then I’ll give you 30 minutes to get yours done.”
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I never understood the concept of slamming the door to communicate anger. Why not lick the door from bottom to top as the other person watches? That would be a MUCH clearer sign that you guys need to talk.
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One great way to decide if you are a good writer? Ask people. The trouble is that you are inevitably going to get both ‘yes’ and ‘no.’ Even the best writers, regardless of standards, are despised by a wide variety of people. Whether it is Shakespeare, Stephen King or Pat Conroy, all have legions of haters.
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A specialized vocabulary when one isn’t required is a sure sign of snobbery. Accusations of bad grammar or syntax have always flourished. Those occupying the castle rarely wish those below to join them in the favored vantage point in the towers. Demanding perfection in syntax when prose is capable of so much poetry without perfection is the same as expecting bloodless childbirth – no one focuses on the mess, just the baby.
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One of these days, I’m going to enter a party and say something really clever in Klingon and someone is going to understand me. That person will be my friend for life. I guess first I had better go to a party.
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If your business mission statement has the word “compassion” in it, chances are you don’t have any.
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Mark Twain said that a classic is a book which everyone praises but no one reads. I’ll add: The best restaurant is sometimes the one always on the verge of failing. And, not only is honesty not the best policy, but the deductible for using it is usually a loss a job or friends.
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Would Eric Clapton have been famous if he had been really, really awesome on the ukulele instead?

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