FTSF: God's Armed Schools & Maybe, the Final Post

http://imgur.com/80h2Ch1

It is reported that Arkansas Christian Academy has 

armed its staff in an attempt to protect 
the children that 
attend school there.  

Bang! Bang! 

Try to shoot our kids

and we'll shoot you first!

This ought to bring the extremes from both sides of the "gun issue" out in droves.

So, is this a "good thing" 

or 

is it a "bad thing?"

Does it matter?

Obviously, the administration of A.C.A. has already armed individuals to protect the Sunday services they provide.  (Wow, those must be some "kick-ass" sermons!)  Thus, one could assess that those that attend the religious services believe that there is not enough safety by prayer alone.  (Powerful enough to create the Earth, but not powerful enough to stop an idiot from shooting them.  Where's God's priorities, anyway?)

Not that one wants to be shot while praying, that is, but then again, if you really believe, wouldn't that be where and when you would want to go?  (Better than to be shot while reading a Playboy in the john!)

Or, would you rather your prayers gave you the sense to hire gunmen to kill those who might not believe the same as you?  (What?  There are those that aren't Christian?  You're kidding!  Not in today's world!)

The government in Arkansas ruled against public schools being allowed to have armed staffs, but allowed private schools to do as they wish.  (Guess that shows where the politicians kids attend, doesn't it?)  In other words, if you're not wealthy enough to have kids in private schools, you're kids aren't important enough to be protected.  Kind of makes you understand the philosophy of those we elect a little better.  (That should make you feel good the next time you go to the polls!)

Let's see ... you have to be protected by armed guards and staff in church and at school, so you must be one that could be targeted by the criminal element.  That could mean your attendees are wealthy, community business rip-off artists leaders, and extremely newsworthy that would either draw those interested in robbing or gaining infamous attention,  Either that, or you're so paranoid about the community in which you reside that you're going to extremes to protect your "flock" and their cash cow kids.

Instead of arming themselves, isn't it the responsibility of the church to reach out to the community and provide such a light of hope and goodness that no one would be tempted to do harm?  

Or, could I be living in a dream world where the church works to teach and provide, instead of to look at a P&L statement and send out tithing past due notices?

Somewhere, things really got screwed up.  

Welcome to 2013!

Anyway, this is Finish the Sentence Friday!  As always, this is where I provide the JPEG that show who our tremendous hostesses are and what the rules of the blog hop is.

This week's prompt is:

"I really wasn't myself when I ..."

So, now, I have to come up with something witty, charming, and intelligent to say, when I'm really not in the mood to do so.

"What, not in the mood?"

For the last week or so, I've been in one of those funks that just seem to take the humor right out of life.  In fact, I've almost decided that perhaps I may take an extended hiatus from the blogosphere.  Why?  Here are my reasons:

1. Not enough time to read blogs.  We all know that you have to return the favor or reading others blogs.  It's really just good manners.  However, I'm working so many hours at my current job, I'm brain dead when I finally get home.  I get home, sit down, eat dinner, and fall asleep at the computer trying to either read blogs or write them.  It makes one wonder if it's all worth it.  
2. I'm not entirely happy with what I've been writing.  It seems like the ones I feel are exceptionally funny get no respect, and the ones I toss together get all the views.  I almost wonder if people are really reading, or just skimming through.  As most that consider themselves "serious" about their writing, I'd rather not write than to have it skimmed.  
3. Monday's blog (even though it was one about being tagged) got the lowest number of views I've had since I first started writing on Hubpages.  Normally, I receive a first day view count between 200-400, depending on the topics and the day of release, and many more after the release date.  Monday's received 22 views, and none since.  I know people are pissed because I haven't had the chance to get to their blogs, but if this is it, then let me just say, "Fuck it, I'm done!"
4. I'm tired of looking at a mailbox full of unopened reminders about my inability to perform my responsibilities.  I have over 200 unopened emails staring at me from websites of friends and acquaintances that I haven't had the time to look at.  Not only is this frustrating to those looking for and deserving views, but to me for not being able to do as I pretty much promised to do.  This doesn't help for a positive mental attitude, by any means.

So, there it is.  I guess you might say "I really wasn't myself when I wrote this."  

Or, was I?  

Maybe it is time I say, "Goodbye" to the blogging world.  The "Never Give Up" inside of me tells me not to, but the shear facts given above tell me that is the answer.  

Perhaps, this Finish the Sentence Friday is my last post ...

.... or, will the sentence be finished sometime in the future.

Only time will tell.

MF ... Tagged by the marvelous Menopausal Mother

Picture that I stole from the blog of 
Menopausal Mother, the tagger in this game 
of Black Art Trickery!  Forgive me, Marcia?

What happens when you run to the bathroom for what is expected to be a necessary and demanding bodily function and nothing happens?

You get tagged!

It's worse than getting ready to sneeze and no sneeze occurs.  In fact, just when you think you're going to have success, only warm and bitter aromas fill the air.  The cramps remain, but still, nothing else occurs.

You've been tagged!

No matter how hard you try, it's just not in the cards, or in the bowl.  So, do you go ahead and fill the toilet with paper to give yourself some validity for your efforts?  Or, do you just arise, pull up your pants, and give in to the fact that there are forces in Mother Nature that are much more powerful than your body's ability to crap?

And finally give in to the fact 

you've really been tagged!!!

The hilarious Marcia, of menopausal mother, decided to keep all of her female friends as readers and cast away her male friends (at least the ones that haven't been paying for her actions that are illegal in 48 states), and tag five of us guys.  

This act of treachery and despair open handed friendship symbolizes her desire to remove at least five male bloggers from the web for several days, leaving the web traffic to her and her gender biased cohorts fun loving compatriots.  With us guys out of the way, their views will surely increase, as ours decrease.  Such a plan has been issued by the new Gestapo world order the ingenious Marcia and her cult members.  

Sieg heil, mine fuhrer!

Now, Marcia really doesn't need this to get views.  In fact, her blog is one of the most popular around, and for good reason.  She pays people to read it!  It's timely, funny, relevant, and extremely well written.  It's not a boring "How To...", but instead, a great read any time of the day (or night, as that's when she has her many male visitors).

I'm still trying to figure out how I got on her bad side!

There are seven topics mandating five answers each in this episode of tagging.  That's a grand total of 35 answers required by our torturer tagger.  After attempting to comply with this feat, we are to name five others to be tortured tagged, making us the new "bad" torturers taggers.

So, without further ado, let us begin this journey.

It's always nice when someone
recognizes you're having a hard time
with constipation and helps you out!

Five Things I have a passion for:

1. Making people laugh
2. Hot, passionate lovemaking  (usually done the same time as #1)
3. Long drives with great music  (I said music ... not that rap crap for those unable to carry a tune.)
4. Writing (or whatever I do that somewhat resembles it)
5. Helping others succeed (Nothing like knowing I assisted a person to a better life, even if my own sucks.)

Five Things I want to do before I die:

1. Bungee jump off a bridge
2. Eliminate stupid people from running our country (Yeah, I know, I'm dreaming.)
3. Continue to fight against the Politically Correct concept that's destroying common sense and individualism today  (Yeah, still dreaming)
4. Win the Powerball Jackpot  (Wake up, Rich, damn it, wake up!!!)
5. Come up with an ending to my book that's not predictable (12 years and still no luck)

Five Things I say a lot:

Vote Bernie Madoff
for President!!!

1. "God, people are so damn stupid anymore ... no common sense whatsoever."
2. "Unless people start teaching their kids common sense and responsibility, we can't expect things to change!"
3. "All politicians are the same ... scam artists just as bad as Bernie Madoff!"
4. "There are those who "try" and those who "do."  Those who "try" start with failure in  mind and reduce their chances of ever succeeding.  Those who "do" start with success in mind and will reach a greater level of success because the effort will be there to  succeed."
5. "Stop blaming things and blame people!  No gun, cigarette, bottle of booze, or drug ever killed anyone without some dumb ass causing it to!  Stop listening to the so-called mind doctors that preach against objects instead of self control and personal accountability.  If they knew what they were talking about, they'd have come up with a solution to keep people from actions that kill other people!"         ... and my wife wants me to add:
6. "I love you" to her.  (It gets habit forming after 33 years of marriage to the bitch.)

Five Books or magazines I've read lately:

1. The Hunger Games trilogy
2. Most Evil: Avenger, Zodiac and the Further Murders Of Dr. George Hill Hodel (by Steve Hodel)
3. Sins Of Our Fathers (by Susan Howatch)
4. Big Man  (by Clarence Clemons & Don Reo)
5. Ronnie  (by Ronnie Wood) 

Five Favorite Movies:

1. Fargo  (hilarious subtle humor)
2. Forest Gump  (everything you could want in a movie)
3. From Dawn Till Dusk  (Vampires and Salma Hayek table dancing, it's guy Utopia!)
4. Twister  (no thinking or major plot ... just good action without gore)
5. It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World  (the best slapstick comedy ever made)       ... and I gotta add
6. Big Fish  (overlooked fantasy comedy with a moral)

Five Places I would love to travel to:

1. My home  (God, I just don't see it enough with my 70 hour work week schedule)
2. Any country where smoking isn't looked upon as a Cardinal Sin  (Does it exist?)
3. Italian countryside  (The one place I'd like to live my final days of life)
4. Asia  (Didn't have enough time to visit much when I was there)
5. Capetown, South Africa  (This time without spending two weeks in the hospital surviving a bite from a Cape Cobra.)

Five Bloggers I choose to torture tag  -  You're it!

"Oh, thank you so much, Rich!
You have saved us from much
frustration an duplicated effort!"

  
This is really where I have to draw the line.  I'm happy to have been considered by Marcia for the tagging, and really somewhat honored that she'd think of me.  She's a fun loving individual that loves to share her enthusiasm and hysterics, and I'm proud to have her as a friend.

   However, I'm somewhat against tagging and award posts that tend to only be written out of consideration and respect of the torturer tagger.  Perhaps it's because they somewhat limit the creative spirit. Or, maybe it's because I know so many people are struggling to find the time to write their own blogs on specific subject matter and themes, instead of producing one of these.  

   So, Marcia, I love you to death and think you're a fantastic writer and person, but I'm going to pass on this phase.  I know there are at least 100 bloggers out there exhaling thankfully in relief now as they won't have to go through this.  I hope you'll understand my stand here and not feel slighted in any way.

   However, if there is a blogger out there that reads this and willfully wishes to participate, feel free to consider yourself tagged.  You can even reference me in doing so.  I'd be honored.

Next time, I promise a more comedic blog.  Hopefully, you'll understand.  If you don't and I find out about it, I'll tag you in the future.

That's a promise!

FTSF ... aka The Day From Hell

Welcome to my world!
You're gonna love it here!
Muhahahahah!

Thursday turned out to be 
another day from Hell.  

I don't know why I expected anything different.  Working 11-12 hours a day has kept that streak going for quite some time.  It has taken away much of my writing time, and most of my blog visiting time.  I know you might be one of those that are pissed at me for not visiting as of late.  All I can say is, "Sorry!  Life is a bitch right now."  

But today (Thursday) was going to be a good day.  I was going to get up early, even though I finally got a day off, do a quick change of transmission fluid in my Ridgeline, and head up to Indiana to see my father.  I figured to leave town about 11 a.m., get to Spencer around 2 p.m., spend a couple of hours amusing my stepmother and and annoying my father, leave around 5 p.m., and get back into my home sweet home setting around 8:30.

I had forgotten one factor that could vary the results in every way.

My wife was off work, too!

Now, I do love my wife.  Let's just say that I'm a firm believer of the old expression, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."  The more she's absent, the more I love her.

It works in reverse, also!

First thing that happened was she shut off my alarm this morning before it woke me.  So, I awake at 10 a.m.   So much for getting up early.  In addition, she's in the shower, which means it will be at least 2 hours before I'll ever see the place.  With only one bathroom in the house, I grab an empty Coke can and take a leak, hoping that it won't be more than a 12 oz. one.

If ya gotta go, ya gotta go!

11.5 oz. later, I finished, washed my hands in the kitchen sink (knowing I'd create a change in temperature in the shower for my devoted one) and waited ... and waited ... and waited.  One hour and ten minutes later, she emerged.  

Finally, my turn had arrived.  

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!

I've entered saunas that didn't
have as much damn steam!

Entering the 759 degree bathroom filled with hairspray mist and perfume stench (too much of a good thing, you know), I glanced at the fogged up mirror with the streaming waterfall of condensation rolling down to the two inches of water already covering the floor.  

Damn, doesn't she know how to close a shower curtain???

Finishing my cold shower (as she'd used 800 gallons of hot water taking hers, I quickly dried off, dressed, and waded back into the bathroom.  There, I nearly electrocuted myself blow drying my hair while standing in water.  At least it straightened my hair.  No gel needed today.

Could I still get everything done?  

Rushing to the Honda dealership to get some transmission fluid, a little old lady on a cell phone cut across the road in front of me.  It's amazing when you can make ABS brakes lock up!

Have you ever seen 400 cd's leave the car seats, fly through the air 

and scatter on the floorboard of a car?  

After spending an additional 15 minutes picking them up and positioning them in some semblance of order in the boxes, I was able to procure the fluid and return home without additional delay.

That's when the wife struck again!

Not thinking, as usual, an extraordinary blond moment took place within her tainted brain.  As I walked into the house, I find that she had prepared a frozen pizza for lunch.  My little homemaker had struck again!

I must remember, take it to the shop,
you're no good at doing it yourself,
take it to the ship,
you dumbass!

Now, as you may recall, I've made statements in the past about my physical reaction to enriched flour.  In case you don't remember, it causes me to pass out in 30 minutes or less.  I drop off to sleep without even recognizing the slumber coming on.  

To keep from ticking her off and knowing I was pressed for time, I grabbed a quick slice and headed outside.  I got the Ridgeline up on stands, finished the slice, and headed under the truck.  There I situated the drip pan, loosened the bolt, and waited for the fluid to drain.

Have you ever awakened looking up at the bottom of a truck?

I look at my watch.  It's 3:35 p.m. and much too late to make the trip to Indiana.  So, I resign myself to the fact that I can finish with the truck quickly, get another shower, and spend the evening relaxing on the web and catching up on visiting the blogs of others I've neglected.  

Did I mention this was a day from Hell?

There is a bolt that must be removed atop the transmission to put fluid in.  Without this fluid, the transmission will burn up.  

Did I mention I had drained all of the fluid?  

This bolt would not move, regardless of everything I tried.  I'm not going to go into all the efforts made in an attempt to loosen this one damn bolt.  Let me simply say that 7:30 was on the wristwatch, and the bolt was holding steadfast.  

I drove my wife's car to a national auto parts store to ask for assistance.  They had no suggestions.  Finally, I went to Harbor Freight Tools, looked over options, bought a break pipe tool, returned home, and watched magic transpire.

It was about F**kin' Time!!!

By the time all tools were picked up and a shower taken, it was 8:30.  My day from Hell was coming to a close.  Still, I had to remember, Friday is almost here and my obligations to FTSF.   

Damn, what a person will do for attention!

Anyway, here's the JPEG giving you all of the wonderful names of our wonderful hostesses on this wonderful day after my day from Hell.

In case you're not familiar with FTSF, the theme states that we will finish the sentence with wondrous thoughts and experiences from deep within.  

Almost make you think about belching them out, doesn't it?

Anyway, this week's theme is 

"I Used To Love ... "

There's actually many things I used to love.  Here's a short list since the forward was so dreadfully long this time:

1. Riding around in my car, listening to rock music, while stoned out of my gourd. (And too stoned to realize the cops might be following me.)
2. Being a radio DJ for an underground station that played music most other stations stayed away from.  (Neville Brothers, Pete Townshend, John Hiatt, Little Feat, Melissa Etheridge, and the Indigo Girls for a few.)
3. Teasing my daughters to no end.  (I am a mean SOB at times, lol)
4. Performing stand-up comedy onstage professionally and experiencing the smiles and laughter my jokes brought to others. (And, "No", I never wet my pants.)
5. Hunting venomous snakes in the wild outdoors where a bite could easily bring death. (That's why guides always lead the way!)
6. Free falling after jumping out of the plane as long as possible before pulling the ripcord to open the chute. (After some bastard had duct taped the grab handle!)
7. Sitting back, as a child, listening to my mother read stories of fantasy to me.  (Ah, I remember the tales of Peyton Place and The Valley Of The Dolls so vividly!)
8. Sitting atop a lifeguard stand looking down the bikini tops of the girls gathered below for my attention (and wondering what I'd do if I had to get off the stand with a woody).
9. Racing a car around a sports car track at breakneck speed without losing control.  (I may not have loved it as much if I'd have lost control.)
10. Sitting on the phone for hours, as a teenager, listening to my girlfriend breathe when we'd run out of things to talk about. (No, it wasn't heavy breathing ... I saved that for a certain teacher I had a crush on.)
11. Watching my oldest daughter lead cheers, her senior year, having failed to make the cheerleader squad previously.  (Kid just wouldn't give up, gotta give her credit, she takes after me ... okay, okay, she takes after her mom!)
12. Enjoying a dish of vanilla ice cream with pineapple preserves with my grandparents, as a young child, while laughing at the Carol Burnette Show.  (Who wouldn't laugh at that show ... even my wife understood the humor!  Of course, that was before she became a blonde, but still, you gotta love the show!)
13. Watching the original Star Wars stoned with friends and remembering all of R2D2's lines.  (Deep Beep Doot Bop Beep = You're a dumb ass C3PO!)
14. Being frightened silly, as a child, by a full TV screen skull accompanied by a piercing scream on Saturday night's Nightmare Theater.
15. Original McDonald's french fries, Original Kentucky Fried Chicken, and a great barbecued steak before all the changes and steroids were added.  (How come food didn't make us fat until the government made is safer?)
16. Seeing how far up a girl's leg, as a teenager, I could get my hand before having it pushed away. (Again and again and...)
17. Feeling the power of God when I was baptized.  (Another teenager moment.)
18. Visiting museums and historical sites all over Europe (and the hash market in Amsterdam).
19. Traveling Italy for days with a hooker that was thankful when I'd come to her assistance in Naples in an awkward moment she was experiencing.
20. Standing at the edge of Mt. Etna and looking over and down at the active lava below (wondering how close I'd have to get to light a cigarette).

So much for the short list!

I think the real statement that needs to be made here is that:

The things we used to love are only that, memories of the past. 

The most important thing that we can love is the next moment.  

Who will join us in the enjoyment it brings!

Will you?

(and if not, do you have a sister?)

Television Diseased and Award Madness: Flying Monkeys & Sideboobs

I have just completed 80 episodes of Dexter, 

the entire Sopranos series, all of HBO's Rome 

series, and the complete Deadwood series.  If 

you are what you watch, I am now an Italian 

cowboy that believes he's Julius Caesar killing 

bad guys and wrapping them in Saran Wrap.  I tote the dead bodies by my horse and buggy to my chariot that turns into a boat and row them out to sea where I drop them overboard 

while whistling Happy Trails.

My brain is gone.

This is interspersed with pre-season NFL action, Formula One Sports Car Racing, and my wife's addiction with America's Got Talent and Gator Boys.  So, in essence, I'm dreaming of tackling and being penalized for holding Heidi Klum while driving a sports car over Howard Stern, and loving Mel B as she dangles a screaming Howie Mandel as alligator bait 
just to see me smile.

I'm lost in a lost world.  

Where's the porn?

I wonder if the Wicked Witch of the West in the 

Wizard of Oz was into porn?  If so, is that what made her green?  She did live with flying monkeys.  Could she have been into bestiality?  Damn, didn't AIDS get started by sex with monkeys?  Could the Wicked Witch of the West have started that whole epidemic?  

Where's men of science when you need them?

That's right, they're still trying to figure out if too much TV can be bad for you.

My wife wants me to record the entire Sex In The City series from Showtime.  I'm afraid if I do, I'll end up in a divorce.  She'll come home some evening and there I'll be, waiting for the pill to kick in (while contemplating my bare naval) as four middle aged, hot chicks stand in the nude talking about past loves and extended battery life.  I remember the days when "getting a buzz" meant smoking a joint instead of sex toy noises.  How really good is that bunny?

Still, it has been a while since I've ... well, you know.

I remember a time when I enjoyed long, drawn out evenings of hot, passionate love making.  I guess I still do.  However, my new neighbors need to leave their curtains open just a little wider.  Not really a fun couple, if you know what I mean.

Yes, I've been watching newscasts about KGB ... er ... NSA spying techniques.  I figure if the government can get away with it, so can I.  Now, I just have to convince the local authorities of that.

When I was younger, I always wanted to be like either James Bond, or Napoleon Solo from the Man From U.N.C.L.E. television series.  (If you don't remember, U.N.C.L.E. stood for the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement.  I know, too much useless information!)  Both demonstrated that the life of a spy/secret agent was filled with excitement and beautiful women.

There are things I can't talk about or I may not be around any longer.

Either that, or you might not be.  Remember, NSA is watching!

I'll have to check to see if they're watching my neighbors have sex ... too!

Lizzi, from Considerings, bestowed upon me an award the other day.  I'm still not real clear on why I deserved this award, but it supposedly shows a woman's side boob.  Obviously, I couldn't resist displaying it here.

Considerings Award Presentation Post

Personally, I think it looks like a rear side head view of a lipstick wearing cat.  
But what do I know?

As Lizzi says, "This is an exclusive award of brazenness and hilarity, which will grow slowly (or not at all) and be valued by recipients everywhere as a symbol of their awesomeness."

I think Lizzi's been watching too many award shows.   

The rules state:
     1)  Be brazen enough to display it on your blog.
     2)  Nominate another blogger.

Simple enough!  

I have displayed the award, and in completing my task, nominate Michael John Mele at 

The Insane Asylum.

MJM does a tremendous job of hitting topics above and beyond the realm of the normal writer.  I won't even go into the topics he covers as you need a grand awakening to the realm he rules without challenge.   Don't delay.  Give him a chance ... it's almost as good as porn ... almost!    

So, I have now done my part.  A brazen boob is displaying a side boob award and has given it to an insane boob (not really but it was too good to pass up ... sorry, Michael).  I  now display the side boob with pride (or a PG-13 Rating by the Politically Correct Blog Association Assh**es of America).  

I think it's time for me to cool off.  Ice Road Truckers is on.  It's ice cubes in the bathtub and shrunken genitalia for sure.  The Titanic in the frozen North is only a tugboat.

Time to look at the side boob again 

and warm up!

(Is it really yours, Lizzi?)

Here kitty,kitty kitty!

10 Things of Thankful Blog Hop

I'm all alone this week.  

As some of you are familiar with, two weeks ago I guest hosted Finding Ninee for Kristi Campbell.  Last we, she returned the favor by guest hosting on this blog.  So much for the history lesson.  This week, we're going to try it on our own blogs.  Or, I should say, "I think we're going to try it on our own blogs."  Kristi and I have both been so busy with work and other projects that we really haven't communicated much of late.  (Too much of a good thing, you know!)  So, you might say I'm guessing.

Typical male, huh?  

Actually, I'm excited (well, let's not get carried away) pleased to be doing this one on my own.   Having done only one other comedy blog this week and having 11 straight days of no less than 10 hours each at my day job, my brain is to the state of, "The hell with you, I'm going on vacation."  If I don't awaken the creative juices somewhat, it just may very well go to La-La Land without me.  (That may be where Kristi is at!  Trying to find ... no ... I won't stoop that low ... or, will I?)

Anyway, we are all grateful for something, I suppose.  Our hosts for this hop, 

seem to have done an excellent job of bringing about a feeling of joy, love, gratitude, and harmony though out this series again.  It is up to me to destroy that!

So, without further ado, here is my contribution to this week's

10 Things Of Thankful

No, you don't own the damn
thing!  Get it back
to the lobby!

1)  I'm thankful to those considerate individuals that keep hotel baggage carts in their rooms as if they were their personal belongings.  I always enjoy arriving at the hotel to find the cart area empty.  This allows me to get my much needed exercise by carrying a week's worth of luggage from my car to my third story room.  It improves my balance, strength, and endurance.  This act also provides me the opportunity to envision new forms of torture for these asses before I drop off to sleep.  (Tying them onto these carts and pushing them down the emergency stairwells for the best time is only one of the things that come to mind.)

2)  I'm thankful for All-You-Can-Eat Buffets that charge to go orders by weight.  I still can't figure out why you can sit there and eat like a pig, but if you get a To-Go box, you're expected to pay three times as much for the same food.  Next time I go to one of these exquisite dining facilities, I'm saying, "F*ck you, I'm pulling a chair up to the serving area and not moving till I'm done! If you don't like it, I'll pay the regular cost for a To-Go box.  It's your choice!  And, yes, I do want some fwuking fwied wice with that!"

3)  I'm thankful for joggers that think the street is for running and the sidewalks are to be ignored.  These dumb asses are so stupid, they even run on the side of the street that traffic is flowing.  By doing so, they don't damage the front of my truck as badly when I knock their butts back to the sidewalk where they belong!

4)  I'm thankful for the Pizza Price Wars that seem to be going on between Pizza Hut, Dominos, and Papa Johns.  Early week specials, mid week specials, and 50% off specials seem to be the norm in this conflict of the top three companies.  They are single-handily making it easy for Americans to go off their diets and gorge themselves silly with hand tossed dough, Sicilian pie crusts, and extra sauces and cheeses.  Soon, Americans won't be able to get through the doors of their homes to go to work because of the extra weight they've gained.  Wobble Wobble!

5)  I'm thankful for people who say "Thank You" when you hold open the door for them.  For those that don't, I always volunteer a hearty, "You're Welcome" as they walk by.  When confronted for saying that a couple of times, I either reply, "Oh, I thought you thanked me for holding open the door like someone that was raised with manners", or, "If you can't say thank you as a polite person would do, how about a f*cking tip!"  If their parents didn't teach them, I take it upon myself to do so ... the asses!

Maybe Subway should be teaching our kids 
mathematics instead of the government!!!

6)  I'm thankful for thumping stereos and 780 watt bass woofers in cars.  I know that one day the drivers will all be deaf and employed teaching kids the dangers of driving with thumping stereos and 780 watt bass woofers in cars.  Maybe then we'll have some damn peace and quiet!

7)  I'm thankful for restaurants (like Subway) that teach our children the benefits of learning basic mathematics.  If you add up the individual sandwich, chip and drink price on a Subway combo, you'll find out that it comes up to exactly the same amount as their combos!  This ploy only tends to work on those taking the "No Child Gets Ahead" curriculum required by the government, illegal aliens, and stoners who don't give a damn as long as the munchies are coming immediately!

8)  I'm thankful for Wal-Mart for giving the ridiculous looking and dressing people of the world a place to go.  As long as they're going there, I'm going elsewhere.  At least that way I don't have to look at them!  

9)  I'm thankful that there is still a restaurant chain like Hardee's that believes sex sells, regardless if it's politically correct or not.  Just look below.  Nuff said!

For the guys:

And, for the ladies:

Now, aren't you thankful, too!

10)  Lastly, I'm thankful that there are men and women, instead of some amoebic cell splitting creature that is self satisfying.  Let's face it, men love to make fun of women and women love to make fun of men.  Men are stupid, women are dumb, men are slobs, women are lazy, men are assh**es, women are bit*hes ... if you don't believe it, ask the opposite gender.  Still, all in all, we tend to get along and enjoy each other's company.  As long as we don't take ourselves too seriously, we can make it if we try.  Of course, I'm just a stupid male, so what the hell do I know!

And those are just a few of the things to which I'm thankful.  I know Lizzi is having a fit now trying to figure out how she's going to explain this list to her friends, but damn it, you're the one that invited me a couple of weeks ago.  

If I can get the button to work this week (which hasn't happened too often in the past), be sure to join the hop with an entry of your own!  And, if you're too lazy to write one, well, go to the hop and read a few anyway.  Who knows?  You just may find something to be thankful of, too!   

That is, unless you're just a 

real assh**e or a real bit*h, 

that is!

FTSF: Growing Up and Bucket List

Fridays have always been a special day in my life.  

Pre-school memories of going down to the corner to catch a station wagon style bus that would take us to the "big" city of Bloomington, Indiana.  (Well, it was bigger than the town of 4,000 rednecks that I grew up near.) 

 We'd eat a lunch at a dime store counter (usually a nutritious hamburger and fries), check out what the store offered in the Toy Section  (and cry and scream until I got something), and then head to one of three theaters that the big city had to offer (so my mom could meet her boyfriend).  After that, we'd walk seven or eight blocks to the Loudon's Grocery Store, do our shopping (while I stayed in the magazine section and sneaked looks at Playboy Magazines), and wait on my father to come pick us up when he got off of work (so we could listen to him bitch about how much money my mother had spent there).

My high school years brought Friday basketball games into the picture.  They were the highlight of the weekend and usually drew crowds of 2-3,000 people.  (Imagine 3,000 screaming subhumans in a saliva frothing frenzy!)  If you've ever seen the movie Hoosiers, you understand the fever of the crowds and the excitement of the events.  Later, when my school finally decided to bring in football, that filled the early Fall Friday evenings (with pain, I might add).

During my days as an on air broadcaster, Fridays always brought us to a different location as we did remote broadcasts, giving us a chance to meet our fans. (Rock music radio fans have always been a strange bunch, especially those in love with DJ's.)  As a district manager, Fridays meant I could leave Baton Rouge and head back to Alabama to spend the weekend with my family. (Let's drive 3 hours home to get nagged!)  And, in Stand-Up Comedy, Fridays always meant the largest and loudest audiences looking for a good laugh.  (And to get drunk, try to drive home, and get their licenses suspended.)

Now, we have FTSF!!!  

(Aren't you glad the travelogue from my past is finally over!)

Finish The Sentence Friday is when our gracious hostesses 

(listed below with the rules) 

give us a sentence to finish and expect us to do our best to keep the audience interested.  This week's sentence prompt is:

My Bucket List Includes ...

So, without further ado, here's what my bucket list includes:

1)  Beach Buckets!   What afternoon at the beach would be complete without a beach bucket or two?  Whether you're thinking of burying yourself or loved one in the sand, simply building a sand castle, or even covering up that nice, hot, steamy pile of crap your dog just let loose, your efforts will be much easier with a beach bucket and shovel.

  "Remember, instead of sand in hand, cover the poo with sand from a bucket, instead of just saying, "F**k it""

2)  Stack-O-Buckets!  Who knows what chores you'll need a bucket for around the house.  There's dogs to dunk and kids to clean up after.  Husbands may need one for washing the car or truck.  Why, on an exceptional day after having been nagged for weeks, they may even need one to clean up the garage floor.  (Don' bet on that one!)  Inside the house, there's the tile to clean, kitty litter to change, and diaper leakage to get out of those deep pile carpets.  Bucket, Bucket, whose got the bucket?  Why, you do, and plenty of them!

3)  Wooden Buckets!  These work great when carrying in walnuts, peaches, apples, or even hickory nuts from those outside trees that make mowing the lawn a nightmare.  This wooden bucket is lightweight and easy to swing back and forth to bring about bruises to young children looking to go to child services and make proclamation of parental abuse.  

4)  Steel Buckets!  Every basement needs a steel bucket.  Unless you have a coal furnace (which means you need to upgrade to either gas or electricity soon, fool) there are very few uses for a steel bucket.  Generally, these will be used as temporary ashtrays, waste baskets, or urinals when the women of the house are living in all the available bathrooms for three hours a day.  Still, when that prize gerbil dies, these make great holding cells until the Winter ground thaws!

5)  Commercial Floor Mopping Buckets!  If you want to make your neighbors think that you're working your butt off trying to keep the house clean, you definitely need one of these.  Wait until the majority of your neighbors are within view, fill the bucket up with water, and take it out the door and dump it where all can see you!  Your standing in the community as a hard working homemaker will rise immediately!

So, now you know what my bucket list contains.  I really don't understand why anyone would be interested in this, but I must comply with the wishes of the hostesses.  I do have to question some of their prompts at times, though!

Oh, a Bucket List means a list of things you want to do before you die?  

Really?  You're joshing me!  

No?  

Oh, well, I'm already done.  

Hell, I'll have to talk about that some other time.  

Meanwhile, won't you grab a bucket and join me?