Contrary to almost everyone else, I think a day like today can be relished best by living just like any other day. If you are lucky enough to have a good life, each day, despite its specific problems and headaches, also presents the chance for quick smiles, hugs, and the feeling of belonging with other people. Setting aside a particular day for gratitude seems weird to me. May your day be filled with both sore feet and someone who loves you enough to occasionally give you foot rubs. (PS: A true test of either friendship or love is that someone will roll their eyes at you in protest, yet still love you unconditionally. Write that down, there will be a pop quiz later…)
A Great Song, In Spanish
Does this cartoony picture make my face look fat? If so, all I can say is that pork rinds do have side effects.
Football, on so many levels, would be better if the ball was switched with a can of Hunt’s tomatoes.
Instead of “hijacking” something, I think we should all start “hijinks” with things. No more hijacking your beliefs- we’re gonna hijinks the crap out of it.
There must be a reason you never see a motivational sports movie speech done entirely in helium-voice.
“It’s ‘cause you don’t have any pizzazz imagination, honey.” – Something I recently told my wife.
I like this time of year, mainly because I get to wrap things. PS, though, I need some more body-sized rugs.
If someone ever runs up frantically and screams “What is the date?” I am going to tell them it is Tuesday, May 29th, 1934. You know, just in case he or she is about to do some serious time-travel craziness.
If I change my name to “Intended Recipient,” I can then literally receive all the mail.
I’m convinced that “Fart Bubbles” would be the ideal name for a romantic song parody. And I am certain that some bubble bath company would pay me millions to use it.
Honestly, because the name says exactly what the character is all about, I think “Sh*tStorm” would be the perfect name for a Marvel comic book.
All political ads year-round should be in Klingon. What a great way to learn Klingon. It already sounds like angry craziness. Let’s put it to use.
Why couldn’t the pyromaniac search Google? Because “no matches found.”
We really need spray-on shirts. There’s no joke in this – we really need spray-on shirts.
I think we could all have more fun driving if we replaced all car steering wheels with boat wheels. Really big ones.
Wouldn’t it be cool if the DMV started using Polaroid cameras again? And, as people got new licenses, they put your picture on the wall where everyone sits to wait like zombies. Imagine the conversations.
Serious tip: all Xmas presents should have the person’s picture on it, rather than their name. It’s more fun and personal and most importantly, small children can do present-passing-out duty by using the pictures on the package.
Although it costs more, another fun thing to buy are postage stamps with real pictures of your choosing on them. You do can do serious ones with your actual picture, or prank the postal service by putting inappropriate pictures on them, such as one of the Unabomber.
I was the first person to say that Arkansas Razorback’s football coach should be nicknamed “BaconMouth.”
This is a huge hook hanging above unsuspecting folks’ heads in Hot Springs. I call it the “Final Destination” hook. Is it wrong for me to say that I wanted it to fall, but not hurt anyone, so I could jump and say “A-ha, I knew it!”
We bought a used grandmother to take up some empty space in our house. The salesman told me she really was an antique.
False, gossipy reports aside, Dawn hasn’t shot me AND she sometimes reports being happy enough to smile in my general direction.
I was so hoping this shot from my house was going to be the prelude to a real-life re-enactment of Stephen King’s “The Mist.” But nothing happened.
This is a list of funny nonsense. (You will see that I am at least 1/2 right on this.)
First, the picture on this post is captioned:
The X Culinary Articulation Theorem: Any restaurant which uses a difficult-to-pronounce word in its name will in general cost at least 33% more than it would cost you to eat at your favorite place.
I tell someone my name.
“How do you spell that?”
“It depends: what state are you from?”
“Why would it matter what state I’m from?”
“You’d be surprised.”
Trump: Cruel and Unusual, The Musical.
Encrypted: burial for IT people.
Since Northwest Arkansas is really just one big metro area, we should start calling it N.W.A.M.:
Northwest Arkansas Metro. (Exceptions: we don’t want Johnson or Bethel Heights.)
Gun zealots make me want to drink. Religious zealots make me need to drink.
“Life is so short it can’t even get on most carnival rides.”
Internet Rule #44: Never engage in tit-for-tat with someone whose profile picture can’t be distinguished from a mugshot.
Frittatta: a word used when someone wants to charge $2 more for an omelet.
Headline I’d love to see: “NASA Confirms the Existence of Dumbasses.”
Cracker Contingent: The usual group of hillbillies who always have an opinion about subjects that are out of their reach.
Unamused: adjective describing my wife yesterday. My stepson and his soon-to-be-introduced-to-us girlfriend were coming over to dine with us. Unbeknownst to my wife, I had strategically and prankishly placed a pair of my clean underwear on top of the front door wreath. Sort of like an ice-breaker? In my defense, in some small way it was a logical thing to do, as people generally fail to notice dust on the furniture or unswept floors when confronted with intimate apparel on the main house door. It is sort of like when I put on a kettle of sauerkraut before visitors come over; by doing this, I can mask all the other weird house smells and simultaneously invoke the rule that visitors can’t openly be contemptuous of one’s food choices, no matter how putrid the stench might be. Shockingly, my prank failed to earn the equivalent of an Academy Award for Great Ideas.
PS: If you need to reduce your guest’s expectations, another good tip is to announce that you’ve made cake and ice cream for dessert. After dinner, place a full fruitcake in the middle of the table, accompanied by the herpes of ice cream delicacies, mint chocolate chip ice cream. While I love fruitcake, mint chocolate chip ice cream is diabolical and in either case, it is likely that there is not one person crazy enough on the entire planet who likes both fruitcake and mint chocolate chip ice cream.
(This post brought to you by Good HouseCreeping.)
This picture is unrelated: after eating at the delicious Panda Express in Springdale yesterday (5 stars of deliciousness, by the way), I drove the loop behind the retail center near I-49, assuming it would indeed loop. Instead, the road simply ended in a foliage-infested roadway. It was far more interesting than my description might make it seem.
This is either a picture of an impending drug deal, or one of my sister-in-law and wife arriving for some delicious Mexican food several days ago. I’ll let you choose.
I wanted to post this example of the type of weirdness that seems to surround me, even while “working.”
Dawn made me buy my own “time-out” bench. The increasingly cold weather hasn’t swayed her one iota in making me use it two or three times daily.
Taken at our last house. The cat is sleeping like a failed gymnast because he’s tired, not because of Dawn’s foot proximity. FYI.
I was challenged to write a review without resorting to my usual billion words or pithy catchphrases to express my opinion. Ladies and gentlemen, I present the most succinct review I’ve ever posted to social media. (Above)
When I posted this one on social media, I was reluctant, as I had recently went to Jose’s for a group birthday celebration. It’s tough being critical when the purpose of a get-together is to to enjoy the company of others. Telling someone “No, I don’t like that place” isn’t a great way to cement a relationship with people. Too bad. We need a code word or action, such as me pretending that I’m dying of diarrhea, to signal a complete lack of enthusiasm for a place while simultaneously saying “Yes” to getting together.
Usually I’m the cricket. But I suspect we all have many crickets chirping away in our ears these last few days, adding their cacophony of uninspired commentary – as we try to figure life out.
1st Annual Springdale 24.85 Furlong Blowdart Extravaganza…
2 ways to enter: Register to run as a contestant in the event, which costs $45 or you can opt to pay $250 to blow darts at those running. You can also volunteer to remove the sluggards who get darted.
We started our race this year in response to those athletes who wanted to do something fun while simultaneously looking ridiculous. We knew the event would appeal to those who like to look and act like athletes without all the fuss– and we all can agree these few weirdos are the ones most in need of being darted.
There are 2 main prizes: $5 to the fastest time running the race and $2000 to whomever darts the most people running. There is a consolation prize for “Most Stylish Dance (Get It Out of My Back)” move of 10 free acupuncture appointments.
We also opted to use furlongs as the de facto measurement for the race length, as no one in their right minds understands the Metric system. It also sounds more impressive than saying you’ve run in a puny 5K race. 24.85 furlongs, even though it is the same distance as 5K, gives the race the pomp and circumstance needed to elevate the reputation of the event.
“We anticipate that the speed of the race will be very fast. Also, we expect a lot of zig-zagging and drop-and-roll maneuvers once the race gets going. To add more excitement, half of the darts with be filled with sedatives and half will be full of stimulants.” – Quote from Mona Payne, Event Disorganizer.
Bring your kids because with their sense of frivolity and bad coordination, we are expecting some surprises as the darts started landing in unexpected places.
(Let’s be honest, folks. ‘Fun-Run’ is about the worst oxymoron known to mankind. If you ain’t being chased, and you think running is something you do for fun, you don’t get out of the house much.)
PS: I made this in response to the real Springdale 5K Turkey Trot “FunRun.”
For those of you who put up your Xmas tree on November 1st…
Please accept my apologies. I’ve been close-minded. I just realized that this is entirely a matter of personal happiness and taste. Why does it matter to me? If you want your house to look like a cathedral to Santa Claus, proceed with wild abandon. Seriously, all joking aside, and in total honesty: if it makes you happy and your family is equally enthusiastic about it – then do it. Please don’t get mad if we joke or make stupid comments about it: that’s what people do. We can snicker behind your back (instead of to your face) if you want because that is also what people do. I think early decoration is weird for a number of reasons, but why should that make you feel less happy and proud for wanting to do it? That’s a dumb reason to not decorate when and to the extent you want and a worse reason to not shout it from the rooftops, throwing your curtains open wide to illuminate your neighborhood with tree lights. Let your crazy Christmas light shine. I’ll drive by and say, “Look at those doofuses!” Meanwhile, you’ll be in your house, happy.
This might be a good way to look at life, too?