Monday, June 24, 2013

Attack of the Killer Zombie Twinkies!!!!

If You See One Of These, Run Very Quickly!!!!


Who would have ever 
guessed it?

Months ago, when Hostess declared bankruptcy, many thought they'd never see their beloved Twinkies ever again.  Babies cried, grade schooler's went through lunchtime D.T.'s, potheads went "Wow, man!", and pregnant mothers screamed obscenities at helpless grocery clerks.  

The nation was in turmoil.

Gradually (as they only had a 45 day shelf life), except for those watching Woody Harrelson's quest in "Zombieland" reruns on Cinemax, Twinkies were all but forgotten.  It was a brighter day in the land as 50 pound bags of Oreo Cookies made a strong comeback, especially with the potheads! ("Wow, man!)

Yes!  Twinkies Will Be Coming Back Soon!!!!!
Then, the announcement was made that on July 15, 2013, Hostess, under new ownership, would again be bringing back  Twinkies!   Crowds roared in glee!  Fireworks filled the skies!  Redneck newlyweds even stopped making love to simply lie back and relish in the thoughts of Twinkies and the ecstasy they would bring!

Little did the public know that the governments of the world had formed a solitary world alliance government. Under the new Hostess owner name of Metropoulos & Co. & Apollo, their mad, but educated, scientists had developed a new type of Twinkies.  These Twinkies would carry a mind control drug (known as Blowurmind) that would create a world society of slaves.  Slaves that would work for minimum wage, live with four to five families in one apartment (or full size '77 Chevy van), and never complain about the government they served.  It was based upon the recent illegal immigrants of the United States ... a proven to work model.

As July 15th grew closer, the excitement escalated.  Thoughts of a spongy yellow cake filled with a thick, white, vanilla cream caused mouths to water endlessly and allowed the wiping of drool to become an accepted social grace.  Car payments were ignored and families stopped buying vegetables and toilet paper in order to ensure proper funding of the untold number of boxes of Twinkies they would soon be devouring.  

Anticipated Twinkie Riots Called For Extreme Security Measures!!
Grocery and convenience stores hired security companies to supply extra personnel to handle the imagined onslaught of customers expected for the release date.  Medical personnel prepared emergency rooms to handle the multitude of sugar overdose victims anticipated.  Even daycare facilities hired temporary help to guard the stashes of Twinkies they would hoard for their customers children.  Finally, all nations called out their National Guard troops to be on the alert!

On July 14th, every semi truck and trailer in the nations of the world arrived at the Twinkies distribution centers.  Pallets of these golden morsels were loaded continuously from sun-up to sundown.  By morning, every store in the world had storerooms crammed full and shelves fully stocked.  

The crowds didn’t disappoint.  One United States chain, Walmart, was overrun as thousands of customers grabbed armfuls of boxes and fought for a place in line at one of the two registers open.  Lines stretched around the inside of the store three times until people grew frustrated, rioted, and escaped the premises without paying.  It was a scene repeated the world over.
And then it happened.
Yes, Dummy, You Now Want To Run Very Quickly!!!
Didn't You See My Warning On The First Picture?

Blowurmind, not having been properly tested by the FDA, immediately started having a different reaction than expected.  Instead of simply being a mind control drug, people were being transformed into giant, man eating Zombie Twinkies!

Zombie Twinkies now roam the streets by the thousands, feasting upon those that had either procrastinated buying the boxes of golden treats, or were diabetics that couldn’t take the chance of eating them and going into a diabetic coma.  

It is reported that after attacking their victims with crab-like claws, the Zombie Twinkies  fed by soaking their victim's blood into the golden cake outside, and blending it into the green and gray mold already setting in from being exposed to the humidity outside the bag.  They have also been know to shoot their thick, white, vanilla cream into the nostrils of those that get too close, causing death by suffocation.  (Get your mind out of the gutter, geesh!  What are you ... a cheerleader?)

Some of us hid behind locked doors with our Little Debbie cakes, as our neighbors were being squished and saturated by Zombie Twinkies.  C-SPAN, with it’s never ending  camera shots of the United States Senate, showed continuous coverage of those politicians (that had agreed to the idea of mind control) becoming food for the Zombie Twinkies.  One could tell that digesting politicians didn’t agree with the intestinal system of the Zombie Twinkies, though, as many were immediately regurgitated.  We guessed politicians were as hard for the Zombie Twinkies to stomach as they are for us.
Mommy, I'm Scared Of ZombieTwinkies!

So now, three days after the initial release of the new Twinkies, the survivors of the world's nations still hide.  Yes, we fearfully slink in the shadows of our own homes.  Our windows are boarded up and doors barricaded, sealed shut tightly by the caramel insides of Snickers bars.  

It is our only hope.

There have been many attempts to stop the giant Zombie Twinkies, but none have yet proven to be effective.  Bullets are useless on the Zombie Twinkies as the thick, white, vanilla cream quickly hardens and fills up the holes.  Torches of fire are extinguished by this same white cream.  Explosives only scatter their remains that each then grow into full size monsters.  And, those that have successfully attacked the beasts with sledgehammers and axes have found the cream and cake spattered leftovers to be far too tempting to resist, and have quickly been transformed into Killer Zombie Twinkies themselves after tasting.

It is whispered that the few remaining scientists of the world are working on a cure by developing a natural enemy to the Twinkies.  Although no one alive has ever seen a giant chocolate Ding Dong, it is our only hope.

Until that time (if ever) when all is back to normal...

Anyone have an Oreo and a glass of milk handy?

***To the makers and owner of Twinkies.  This has only been written in jest.  
If you can't take a joke, then go back and develop something that won't make 
a joke of every diet known to man.  Twinkies are know to have no nutritional 
value and are filled with unnecessary calories.  Pay your workers what they 
deserve, cut back on upper management salaries, and develop a treat you 
can be proud of that's healthy for people to eat.  Thank you!

Friday, June 21, 2013

FTSF: Ray Guns, Flying Waterbeds & Tanya Roberts

It's 10:25 p.m.!

I haven't written a thing for FTSF.

I'm either going to have to come up with something decent to write about in the next few minutes, or quietly bow out of the blog hop this week.

How does one 
loudly bow out?  

"Hey everyone, I'm going to stay out of circulation this week!  Just wanted all of you to know it!  Why?  Because I'm so damn wonderful, I know all of you will miss me if I'm not here!  So, here I go ... I'm bowing out now!"

That's not really bowing out.
It's more like ego announcing withdrawal symptoms! 

It's like an actor turning down a role in a movie.  You usually don't find out about it unless the movie turns out to be a huge success.  Then, all of a sudden, the actor goes on every talk show available to tell of how he made a mistake in not taking the role offered.  So, in essence, he becomes a part of the movie's success by hanging on its coat tail.

Obviously, I'm not going to bow out.  I'm probably going to continue to type with hopes of something miraculous occurring.

I need a movie role!

In My Waterbed Jet, I Could Save The World!!!!
I can see myself in the lead of a major blockbuster.  I'm the old, experienced coot that knows right from wrong and how to do what the young whippersnappers (I love that word, lol) only wish they could.  I'm flying around the world in my specialized waterbed, surrounded by a climate controlled force field, shooting out rays that will change the attitudes of greed, revenge, hatred, and stupidity.  Politicians are trying to hide, yet, sticking their heads up their butts still leaves them completely exposed (more so than one would like to visualize).  

I'm soaring at speeds that allow me to cover the entire face of the Earth in a matter of days.  Missiles are aimed and shot at me by the North Koreans, but expectantly fall into the ocean as they miss their target.  Suicide bombers are awaiting me on every television transmitting tower, but only succeed in blowing up the signal that provides Honey Boo Boo and South Beach Towing re-runs.  Rap music becomes extinct as suddenly as there is no more violence, bitches, or whores to rap about.  The land is quiet as car stereos lose their need for 78 inch woofers and 15,000 watt systems.

But, this doesn't come without a price.  The result of being in close proximity to the rays has a damaging affect on me.  The world, recognizing what has been achieved, demands scientists spend every waking moment finding a cure to my ailment.  My time is short.

Yet, I have never stood in front of the ray, so I am not as the rest of the human race.  I still can feel the hatred, anger, revenge, and greed that exists no where else.  I have decisions to make.  Should I use my remaining time on Earth to amass tremendous power and fortune from those too naive to see what I could accomplish?  Or, as many would hope, will I allow myself to die in my flying waterbed honorably as an example for the human race to follow?

No, damn it, I haven't come up with the ending yet!   

Anyway, this is another Finish The Sentence Friday.  Yep, here's the expected JPEG.

Oh, and this week, Katia from I Am The Milk is also co-hosting.  
(Okay, the basics are all covered.)

Today's prompt is:

"If I could have dinner with anyone in history 
it would be with...."

Now, most of you are probably betting I'd say God.  However, after last week's posting about God Taking A Dump, I'm gonna lay off the big guy for a while.  His (or her, Cyndi) sense of humor probably has limits, and to be blunt, I don't need another week of bad luck like I've experienced this week.  

So, since it wasn't specified that this be singular, I'm going to say, 

"If I could have dinner with anyone in history 
it would be Mel Brooks, Woody Allen, 
Carol Burnette, Gene Wilder, Tim Conway, Johnny Carson, Bobby Knight 
and Tanya Roberts 
(for eye candy ... I'm old but I'm not dead)."

Six masters of comedy, one master of motivation, and one beautiful woman that deserves a special and private desert with me after the meal.  (I'm thinking strawberries and whipped cream ... a lot of strawberries and whipped cream ... like maybe a bushel of strawberries and five or six cans of whipped cream ... well, maybe not a bushel, but you get the picture!)

Johnny would have to keep things under control as I'm sure things would quickly get completely crazy  otherwise.  I can see him directing the serving staff as to who to serve first and what they would be fed.  When in doubt, he could pull out his turban and do his Carnac the Magnificent bit to hush the occupants.

Mel and Woody would have to be seated apart from each other to keep the conversation from being monopolized by Jewish jokes, as would Tim and Carol to avoid an evening of television re-run boredom.  I'm sure Gene could keep Bobby in stitches with stories about slapstick antics with Richard Pryor, and Bobby could get the whole group roaring by demonstrating proper chair throwing techniques by taking out an overhead chandelier!   

Of course, there's only so many chairs in the place, so Tanya would have to spend the remaining part of the meal sitting in my lap.  (Hey, a true gentleman has to make sacrifices!)

All said and done, the comedy secrets and education that one could get from these comic geniuses would be unequaled to years of effort.  Bobby's direction in motivation could be a tremendous advantage to working towards success.  And, Tanya ... well, Tanya would just make the evening complete!   

I can see her and I jumping into my flying waterbed and enjoying an evening under the stars as we soared by the light of a full moon.

"NO!  Tanya .... 
don't touch that Ray Gun!!!!!"
Oh well......

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Rambling Tuesday: Shrinking T-Shirts, Tampons and Dick Cheney

So I'm sitting here trying to figure out how I can top my previous blog topic of God taking a dump.  

Shouldn't be too difficult.  

In fact, if I really give it a thought or two, I might even be able to write something clean for a change.  

Wouldn't that be a surprise?

Speaking of clean, I need to give a shout out to the maker of Fruit Of The Loom T-shirts for keeping America's economy flowing.  (Or, has Fruit Of The Loom moved all of their plants to Mexico?)  Anyway, only Hanes has surpassed the ability to shrink a T-shirt in length over 7 inches in two washings!

Let's hear it for keeping the American farmer and the modern day version of the cotton gin in full operation!

Seriously, I used to blame my wife's ineptness in being able to figure out the dryer's thermostat control for the shrinkage.  After all, she is blonde and from a small town in Alabama.  When she chews gum ... well, let's just say, "Lets not overload the circuit board!"

Two weeks ago, I finally decided that even though my current T-shirts allowed me to use my index finger to contemplate my navel without any hindrance, perhaps it was time to cease the bare tummy look and buy some T-Shirts that would at least tuck into my pants.  Knowing that there was to be some expected shrinkage, I exceeded all supposed requirements and purchased the 2X size instead of regular X size.   

Two washings later, over seven inches had disappeared from the length of these.  I know this because I’ve measured those washed against their T-shirts yet to be washed.  At one time, they were the same size.  

I can once again put my index finger to work and contemplate my navel without hindrance.   

So, to the makers of the original replaced Hanes T-shirts, as well as the makers of the replacing Fruit Of The Loom T-shirts, your offerings are making great shoe shine rags.  Never again will I purchase your products, as I now have more shoe shine rags than I’ll ever use in my remaining lifetime.

Some good uses for the material you offer (instead of the T-shirts you pretend to make to last) might be:
"Just Think, Rich ... another couple of washings
and it will fit me!"

1)  Diapers for freshly cut baby eunuchs
2)  Underwear for Barbie and Ken dolls
3)  Togas for unsuspecting sorority sisters who don’t mind showing some skin after a wet toga contest
4)  Dog sweaters for Chihuahuas and their pups
5)  Toe warmers for the little people in “Oz, The Great And Powerful”
6)  Sleepwear for pet mice
7)  Wristband coverings for Paris Jackson, and
8)  Finger padding for masturbation addicts.

The Ultimate T-Shirt Shrinkage Product
Perhaps, with a little effort, the marketing department might be able to use the phrase “From T-shirts to Tampons” to bring some variety and multi use into your product line.  “Today underarm sweat, tomorrow further under you get!”   

(You can keep the ideas for free.  It’s my contribution to recycling!)

I have apologized to my wife, who was watching “The Voice” at the time and didn’t hear me.  I’d do it again, but now I have ammunition for the next time she accuses me of not hearing what she supposedly said to me.  Besides, she’s also chewing gum.  “Let’s not overload the circuit board.”

Okay, so this is where I normally cover news items in my Rambling Tuesdays offerings.  I’d like to say everything was used up in last week’s FTSF, but it wasn’t.  So, here goes:

"Yep!  I'm still dead!"
1)  Jimmy Hoffa, the teamster leader that vanished decades ago, is still believed dead.  Since no one has seen him in decades, there is little to disprove this.  Still, he’s back in the news as no one can find where he was buried.  In the year 2332, they’ll still be looking, but will be more agreeable to the fact he is still dead.
2)  Former Vice President and secret tyrant, Dick Cheney, has sided with President Obama and defended his actions in the NSA episode.  That and $4 will get Obama a cup of coffee at Starbucks and 200 shares of stock in Halliburton.  Cheney agrees that weapons of mass destruction are being used in Syria.  Haven’t we heard him say that before?  “Those that fail to remember history...”
3)  A teenager is in trouble for riding a 30 foot whale shark.  Says the teenager, “I learned my technique from watching Debra Winger in the old classic movie, “Urban Cowboy.”  “Wasn’t I grand!”
4)  Another teenager is in trouble for wearing a NRA T-shirt to school.  Says one teacher, “We shouldn’t have to be subjected to such atrocities.  We should just shoot him!”
5)  Federal agents raided fifteen 7 Eleven stores in search of illegal aliens.  Each agent carried a Slurpee in one hand, and a voter registration pad in the other.  Spokespersons for the Republican Party stated, “Damn, I wish we’d thought of that!”
6)  Sarah Palin returned to Fox News once again.  She is still weak on the topics of National Economy, Foreign Aid and Affairs, and United States history, but claims to have made great forward leaps and bounds in Geography.  She now knows it’s the Japanese trash from a Tsunami a few years back that she can see out her window instead of Russia.  
7)  Justin Bieber was ignored by his own country’s Polaris Music Award Committee again, as none of his five albums have ever been considered great music by them.  Shows the Canadians have a much better sense of music appreciation than their Southern neighbors, doesn’t it?
8)  and finally, Russian President Putin has given his support to the Syrian political regime stating that to give guns to rebels would only create more terrorism.  Let’s see, the United States gave guns to Osama Bin Laden and his rebels during the Russian war with Afghanistan in the 80’s,  and found it to be a grave error in judgement as 9/11 came about and the U.S. got caught up in a war in the same place ... and still isn’t out of it.  “Those who fail to remember the past ...”

But then again, let’s not forget that the U.S. has always armed the little guys in hopes of taking down a political structure that didn’t quite agree with U.S. policies.  At times, it paid off for a little while.  However, in the case of Vietnam, the Afghan rebels, and the Contras, it has come back to bite us in the tail.  Still U.S. Industry mostly thrives in a wartime climate, except for the Iraq War where Halliburton received a no-compete contract to make money while others sat starving in the wings.  Let’s see, wasn’t VP Cheney a CEO of Halliburton at one time?  And who, once again, is speaking out for getting another war started?  And, doesn’t war tend to increase the gap between the rich and the poor for the most part as profiteers reap all the cash, and the poor do all the dying?

Maybe we should start to “Remember the Past.”

Or, would that “overload a circuit board?”

Non Shrink T-Shirt recommendations ... anyone?

Thursday, June 13, 2013

FTSF: God Takes A Dump, Stupid People & Cat Stew

the sarcastic ass 
is back!  

The hiatus is over, to an extent.  I'm still very limited with my vision and computer time, but there are some things a person just feels like they have to do!

So, I guess I'm supposed to give a complete rundown as to what has happened to me over the last two months.


We all go through trials and tribulations in life.  Some of them are the fault of stupid people, some because of medical conditions, and some because of fate, karma, circumstance, luck, or God simply deciding he has to dump on someone every now and then.

I've seriously never envisioned God taking a dump before.  Royal robe hiked up, his bare, pasty white cheeks (I really can't imagine tanning beds being available in Heaven) sitting upon an ice cold toilet seat, and face all twisted as he contemplates his wisdom in designing bodies to release waste.  And, since God is all powerful, can you imagine the odor his defecation would produce?  Holy Toledo stench!  Just imagine God trying to cover up the smell in Heaven by saying, "Who died in here?"  (Can't you see every angel raising their hands saying, "Me!")   

And again, with God being all powerful, imagine the defecation exit speed!  Perhaps, not too long ago, he'd eaten his fill of Reuben pizza, some of his son's meatloaf, Brussels sprouts, and inhaled some Bush's Baked Beans as a snack.  That release had to be a super sh**!  (I wonder if that one's thrust velocity started the tsunami that hit Japan a few years ago?)

All this gives you a new insight as to God sitting on his Golden Throne in Heaven ... doesn’t it?  (The next time you're in church, and the preacher mentions it, try not to remember that picture.)  In fact, in my distorted brain, I can see the line of angels waiting to get into the outhouse in the clouds, cursing quietly about how long it was taking as he struggled with constipation.

“God damn it, how the hell long is God going to take?”

“Did God take any of those PlayAngel Magazines in there with him?"

“He just got back from where!?!?  OMG!  Remember the last time God went to White Castle? Those porcelain poppers  shot right through the clouds and resembled tiny meteors burning as they entered the Earth’s atmosphere!  
Somebody warn NASA!”

“If God doesn’t hurry up, I’m gonna have to shove this halo up my ass 
to keep my robe clean!”

“If God’s been drinking wine, those folks downstairs may get another 40 days and 40 nights of golden rain!”

“Just don’t be the next one to go in after God finally gets done.  
The smell will make you wish you were in Purgatory!”

"Remember how mad he got last time when he finished and found an empty roll of toilet tissue?  Two hurricanes, three tornadoes, and one Roseanne Barr singing the National Anthem ruined the day for everyone the world over!"

And so on, and so on, and so on.

(What a topic with which to make my return!   Missed me ... didn’t you?)

So, why did I choose to come back to FTSF at this time?   Remember the cliché expression, “Because it was there?”   It kind of fits.  

I was planning to attempt to come back for a “Rambling Tuesday” entry, but I got rambunctious, went against doctor's orders, and decided to go ahead and let the creative juices flow ... kind of like God taking a dump.  (Why does a baby’s diaper filled with the results of Gerber Spinach Baby Food anal deposits come to mind all of a sudden?)

I do hope you’re not eating right now.  
I especially hope you're not eating corn.  Why?  Because corn brings up many questions that need discussing.

How come corn is the only food known to man that never changes shape as it hopscotches through the human body?  Although I’ve never eaten a corn cob, I’m curious as to if it would change shape, or follow suit with the kernels?  After exiting, would the cob look like carnival food on a stick?  And, isn't popcorn really corn, too?  Then, why doesn't popcorn stay looking like popcorn?  (Although I have heard that some people swear they’ve seen Orville Redenbacher's face staring up at them from the bottom of the stool!).

Enough on God taking dumps and corn.  I’ve been away so long, I’m going to use my old JPEG showing the hostesses and the rules to FTSF.  I hope things haven't changed in this respect.
(Wasn’t that a work of art?)

Anyway, today’s sentence prompt is “The Hardest Part About My Day Is...” (which with three periods in a row inside of quotation marks, makes ending the sentence a difficult punctuation task unless you write a stupid sentence inside of the parenthesis like this one).

"So, here goes ..." (I can do it too!).

The Hardest Part About My Day Is the first 24 hours!  
After that’s over, it’s a breeze!

Getting out of bed has always been difficult.  I hate to go to bed at night, and hate to get out of bed in the morning.  I look at sleeping as a waste of time, but sleeping tries to change my viewpoint every morning.  I think I must be bi-polar in that my waking self loves being awake, but my sleeping self loves sleeping.  The two self’s are contradictions of each other, which makes for an internal conflict, similar to constipation.  Luckily, internal gases are not a result of this conflict, or I truly would hate myself! (Anyone for finger pulling?)

Observing stupid people making the news is another difficult part of my day.  Since I’ve been gone, there have been many stupid things occur in the news.

1)  Two dumbasses set off bombs at the Boston Marathon in hopes of making an Anti-American political statement.  Kind of hard to make a statement when the cops shot one full of holes, and have the other one under lock and key after he thought hiding in a boat in a backyard would keep him safe and sound.  (Kind of like hiding under the covers will keep the monsters away when you’re young, isn’t it?  Guess the boat wasn't as bulletproof as the covers were!)
2)  The Aurora shooter pleaded insanity, as I predicted he would the day the shooting occurred.  Hope he meets Slingblade and his lawn mower blade when he gets to the asylum!  Maybe he’ll go well with the “French Fried Taters & Mustard” treats!  “Yep, mmm mmm!”  What a Joker!
3)  The North Koreans finally found out they can hit the ocean with their missiles!  They shot one, hit the ocean, and shot five more, hitting the ocean each time!  Damn, these guys are dead eye shots!  (How do you miss hitting something as big as the ocean!?!?)  
The South Koreans are egging them on, day after day, with chants of, "Betcha can't hit the ocean again!  Betcha, Betcha, Betcha, Betchaaaaaa!"   They do this hoping the North Koreans will waste all their missiles hitting the bottom of the sea!  It seems to be working.  So much for the intelligence of Kim Dumb Dumb!
4)  The I.R.S. targeted certain political groups for audits upon certain leadership directives.  In case you've never been through an audit, it's much like going to the proctologist in that ... “the deeper they search, the more they find, and the more it hurts!”  Personally, I think all politicians should be audited by I,R.S. inspectors (with ointment and rubber gloves) at least once a year.  Maybe then, the inspectors could pull the politician's heads out of the moist darkness in which they relentlessly reside!  
I wonder if God goes for his annual procto check-ups?  Can you imagine being the doctor about to shove your hand up God's butt?  Since God is supposed to know all, would you have to tell him, “This is gonna hurt!”
5)  Obama has had the NSA spying on Americans on the Internet.  It’s called visiting Facebook pages, folks!  Obama figured since most government employees spend most of their day social networking anyway, why not have them check out a few new Facebook pages!  They'll tell you everything you need to know!  
Give me ten minutes and I’ll tell you everything Terrye Toombs, Janine Huldie, and Julie DeNeen has been up to since the last time they were virgin brides ... or, at least one of them was ... supposedly!  (I’m not doubting you, Julie ... well, not really ... well ... okay, maybe just a little ... no, I believe you!  Just like you were going to send me a German Chocolate Cake, right?)
6)  Tornadoes hit Oklahoma!   Like that’s never happened before.  If you live in Tornado Alley, you’re gonna get hit by a tornado sooner or later.  It’s like living in New York and being surprised when you see a taxi or a hooker!   Didn't you see the movie "Twister"?
Duh ..... MOVE!

And those are just a few of the daily news items one has to simply shake their head at.  Unless, of course, you’re amused by Michael Douglas swearing he got throat cancer by having oral sex with his wife. (Kind of like after an evening of oral sex in the 80's when you'd wake up in the morning rubbing your beard, and then remember you didn't have a beard!  The Karate Kid ended those days with, 
"Wax On, Wax Off!)  
But seriously, if exercising one's tongue is discovered to be a cause of cancer, Kanye West and Ellen DeGeneres are in major trouble!

Lately, several things have also added to the hardest parts of my days.  (No, Viagra isn’t one of them, Terrye.  Get your mind out of the gutter.)  Having to limit my computer time to less than two hours a day while my eyes heal has been a nightmare (especially since I have to occasionally use one at work), dealing with yet another birthday was a pain in the butt (but better than the alternative), my 33rd anniversary with my wife could have been much better if I hadn’t of tried to be nice and put in the Blu-Ray “Ted” as a romantic video selection (Well, aren't Teddy Bears supposed to be creatures of love?), and having just discovered my cats' claws have shredded the back of our new love seat in record time makes me decide that cat stew may be in the future dining menu.

I wonder if cat stew would cause a major bowel movement?

Maybe I’ll ask God about it during my nightly prayers.  
If there’s a tsunami tomorrow, perhaps we’ll all know the answer.

(Faletame and Gabriela are now running around in a panic!)

Now, after reading this, aren’t you sorry I’m back?

****Just a quick note to all my friends and followers that emailed me and left comments and birthday wishes on my blogs during my medical hiatus.  You have my complete gratitude for doing so.  (This blog entry hit over 10,000 views by itself because of it!)  Sometimes, it's hard to understand that there are still great people in the world as we usually hear about the evil or stupid ones.  You don't know how much it meant to see that there are those that care, and will stick by you even when you're down.
Also, to the multitudes that had birthdays and special events that I missed during my absence, my apologies.  I hope your day was a joyous one and filled with all sorts of goodies.  However, if you're still looking for a present from me,the cat stew will soon be on its way!  :) 

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