Pick o' the Day: An Example of Things I Think About While I'm Driving

So I’m cruising into Austin on the fabulous Manor Expressway that for a toll of a little over two dollars allows me to skip past at least eight traffic lights all the way to I-35 and I look to my right and see an ambulance with all its lights flashing traveling parallel to me on the frontage road and I realize that I’ve never seen an ambulance on the Expressway and it hits me that sumbich! those besterds are too cheap to pay the toll and are taking the frontage road and having to go through all those lights and putting everyone in danger and the poor sumbich having the heart attack inside the ambulance thinks they’re doing everything they can to get him to the emergency room in a timely manner and all they have to do is pull onto the Expressway and have a clear shot all the way to Brackenridge but instead they’re sticking to the frontage road and saving a whole two and a half bucks even though the last time they gave me a ride for a severe anxiety attack they did their very best to bump it up to a major heart attack by presenting me with a bill for over a thousand dollars for that very same ride and now I realize that the next time I need an ambulance ride I’ll have to remember to have at least two and a half bucks in my pocket to give to the driver and tell him to take the Expressway, the cheap besterds!

Pick o' the Day: The "What Role Would Y'all Have Played in The Lord of the Rings?" Quiz

     Okay, let's face it.  We all wish we could have been in the Lord of the Rings movies. And of the many fascinating roles, such as Elves, Men, Hobbits, Wizards, Dwarves, Gollums, Ents, etc., we all wonder what part Peter Jackson would have cast us in if we had made it past the initial auditions. Well, that is, until now. Thanks to an unexpected spurt of energy, I have adjusted my recliner from "full-recline" to "semi-recline" just to put to use my brain's vast store of worthless trivia, mixed-in with my rudimentary knowledge of basic mathematical calculations (PEMDAS, anyone?), and added a dash of Texas flavor to create a simple six-question quiz, the results of which will determine what part, based on your unique personality traits, you would have gotten to play in the Greatest Movie Trilogy Of All Time!  I call it the "What Role Would Y'all Have Played in The Lord of the Rings?" quiz, and it's absolutely free!  Now, it's nothing fancy because my technology budget is exactly $0.  So just select an honest answer to each question and keep scrolling down until you get the good news. So, let's get started!



Question #1:  Ginger or Mary Ann?

Question #2:  Peanut butter, Nutella, or Liverwurst?

Question #3:  Blue Bell or Blue Bunny?

Question #4:  Led Zeppelin or Barney?

Question #5:  Grumpy Cat or Lassie?

and finally...





Question #6:  Southside BBQ or Meyer's?

Okay, we are now calculating the results...

Keep scrolling down for the results...

Y'all would be this guy!

Pick o' the Day: 9 More Warning Signs You Are (probably) Going Straight to Hell

* If any of these sound familiar, you had better repent soon. Then you might not have to go straight to hell, you piece of #&$^!


1.  You have a double-door entrance to your place of business, but you only unlock one of them.

2.  You open a business next to a middle school for the purpose of peddling candy, gum, soda, and Cheetos to children.

3.  You raise the insurance rates for those with lower credit scores.

4.  You charge poor people more than you do rich people for the same exact thing.

5.  You are an active member of your homeowner's association and you are quick to report violations to the board.

6.  You check-raise.

7.  You claim corporations are people, yet when corporations commit crimes, you're OK with the fact that no one ever goes to jail.

8.  You put out a new version of Windows even though there was nothing wrong with the last one, and now I can't even figure out how to shut the computer down.

9.  You make your employees climb a set of stairs to get to the break room.
 


(Editor's note: This list does not contain all of the signs that indicate a person is going straight to hell. More are being identified every day.)

Pick o' the Day: Possible Titles for My Autobiography

So I'm kicking around some possible titles for my autobiography, and these are what I have come up with so far:

     One Ear Was Enough
     The Agony and the Agony
     Sense and Insensibility
     Not-So-Great Expectations
     The Scarlet Pimple
     Where the Red Rash Grows
     Gullible's Travels
     The Old Man and the Seasoned French Fries
     The Sun Also Sets
     Much Ado About Not Very Much At All
     The Call of the Llama
     The Going Asleepening
     Blaine in LaLaLand
     For Whom the Bell Dings
     As I Lay Crying
     A Portrait of the Teacher as a Broken Old Man
     The Voyage of the Dawn Dreader
     One Hundred Years of Interruptions
     I Know Why the Caged Teacher Screams
     Around the Schoolyear in 180 Days
     Love in the Time of Allergies
     To Have Not and Have Not

Pick o' the Day: The One-Hundred-Dollar Tomato

A Very Short Gothic Horror Story

(with illustration)

     Over $100 sunk into the vegetable garden, and all I got was one stinkin' tomato!

The End




 

Pick o' the Day: A Bit of Wisdom, A Little Sarcasm, and a Few Jokes

A "breakthrough" is usually a good thing, unless you're talking toilet paper.

Why is it that every time I pick up a big, heavy rock and throw it as hard as I can at the Port-a-Potty my son just locked himself into, it's just the funniest thing?

Flossing teeth should happen before applying Preparation H, not after.

Has anyone ever met an honest-to-goodness person from Montana? I mean, I've met people from all over, like China, and Paraguay, and Germany. Heck, I think I even saw a leprechaun once. But I've never met a Montanan. I think they might be a myth or something.

Why did the turtle try to cross FM973?  He wanted to die, I guess.

My granddaughter thinks I look like a movie star. She was watching "The Addams Family" on DVD, and when she saw Uncle Fester, she said, "Granpa!"

I think migrant eskimos should be called "Snowmads".

Has anyone ever found a real piece of bacon in Campbell's Bean with Bacon soup? I sure haven't, and I've been looking since I was 10 years old.

If I ever buy a donkey, I'm going to name him "Hotey".

What did the guy who went to Jamaica for the first time ask the Jamaican chef when he heard the chef was cooking Jamaican food and the guy had never eaten Jamaican food before and he didn’t even know what Jamaican food was?  "What's Jamaican?"

The person who should get paid the most in any business or organization is the one who has to clean the restrooms.

It has occurred to me that the politicians who run our country and who are trying to figure out how to fix our many problems are, in all likelihood, no smarter than me.  And if that's true, we're screwed.

I'd like to start a business selling water tanks to farmers and whoever, and sell 'em dirt cheap.  You know, practically give 'em away.  I'd call it Tanks for Nuttin'!

I see that McDonald's has a new menu item called a McWrap. Has anyone else noticed that when you say it out loud, it sounds like you're saying McCrap? (Yes, I would like two McCraps, please, and a Diet Coke.)

You better believe that when I eat my last meal, bacon's gonna be a big part of it!

Sometimes when God speaks to me, he speaks in Spanish.

I'm sure glad that change is such a big part of our lives. I get so tired of knowing how to do things.

If you're going to thank God for the sunny days, you should also thank him for the rain.

It has always been one of my traditions to take the family to see and enjoy the Trail of Lights during the Christmas holiday season. This year, however, I thought I would try something different and take them to see it after it gets dark outside. I hear it's even better then.

I went to the doctor, and he told me I'm suffering from something called the "Summertime Blues", and appparently there "ain't no cure".

I find the word "fart" somewhat offensive.  Why don't we start calling them "butt burps"?

Sometimes, when you get into trouble, it is because you did something right!

It takes a lot of love to raise a Grandpa.

Pick o' the Day: Oh, Montana! (Chapter 6- The One That Took More'n a Year to Write)

     A surge of anxiety finger-walked its way up Hank Wendt's spine as he watched the driver's side door of the mysterious black car slowly open.  A moment later, a huge, hulking man in a full-length fur coat and matching fur cap rose up behind the door.  His face was partially concealed behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, but the part that wasn't was yellowish, and wrinkled, and ugly-looking.  The man glared in Hank's direction for a moment, then reached back into the car and pulled out what looked like an iron bar.  He then slammed the door shut, and leaning against it, gingerly sidestepped towards the rear until he could open the backseat door, from which he pulled out an aluminum walker.  This he set down in front of himself and used to move to the back of the car.  He then lowered the "cooter scooter" to the pavement, got onto it, and motored himself and his walker around the car to the front passenger door.  He then got off, opened the car door, and assisted an obviously elderly, yet equally as massive, grim-faced, and grizzled man get out and onto the scooter.  Both then started slowly making their way towards the front door of the donut shop.
     "Hank, look at me."  His father's face was serious now, but calm.  "What you see there is more than 600 pounds of trouble comin' for to get me.  Now, I don't think they know who you are, so you should be fine.  But they damn sure know who I am, so we're gonna have to get the hell outta here.  I'm gonna slip out the back of this place and sneak around to the car.  I want you to stall 'em for a few minutes to give me a good head start."
     Alarmed, Hank asked, "How'm I going to do that?"
     "I want you to tell 'em I'm in the john.  That should give me enough time.  And when you see me get into the car, you come a runnin', you hear?"  Le'von drained his coffee cup with one long, last gulp, wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve, let out a long, putrid-smelling belch, then took off like a jackrabbit into the kitchen area.  A moment later, the sound of a cowbell and a blast of cold air announced the opening of the front door, and in came the two menacing-looking man-mountains.
     First to enter was the scooter pilot, since the other was holding the door for him, and once they were both inside, they made a slow, methodical, and mechanical-sounding beeline for Hank, who was desperately trying to pretend not to notice them.  At last they loomed up beside him and stopped.
     "Can I help you?" asked Hank, looking up rather timidly.
     "Yeah," replied the one who was standing beside him with the crowbar in his hand.  "You can tell us where your friend is."
      "My friend?"
     "The guy you were talking to just a minute ago."
     "Oh, yeah.  That guy.  I think he went to the bathroom," lied Hank.  "I'm sure he'll be back in a minute or two.  If you want, I can go get him for you."  He started to get up out of his seat, but the enormous hand of the fur-coated man bore down on his shoulder and shoved him back into his seat.
     "Don't bother.  We got this."  The one in the scooter gunned it and made straight for the door to the men's room, with the other guy clunk-clunking behind him with the walker.  They both took up positions at the door.  At that moment, Hank's peripheral vision detected movement outside.  Trying not to turn his head, he saw that his father was moving stealthily to the driver's side door of the Pinto.  Hank looked at the man with the crowbar, who was now looking back at him, so he smiled and nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging way.  The man turned his gaze back to the men's room door.
     "BEEP!"  Hank exploded out of his seat when he heard the honk of the Pinto, and he dashed for the front door.  Once outside, he ran towards the car, and as he did so, he saw his father rolling his window down.
     "I'm gonna need a push again, dammit!" the old man shouted.  "Let's go!"
     Hank knew exactly what needed to be done.  He put all his weight into pushing on the front end of the car first in order to get it out into the parking lot.  He then ran to the back and gave every ounce of what he had left into getting the car moving forward.  Looking back to the donut shop, he saw that the two furious goons were struggling their way out the donut shop door as fast as they could.  Hank redoubled his efforts until he was running at a full trot.  His father popped the clutch, and the little car jolted to a start, then slowed, but didn't stop.  Hank ran to the the passenger side door of the moving car and jumped in.  Le'von floored it before he had a chance to shut the door, and Hank nearly fell back out, but a sharp right turn out into the main thoroughfare brought Hank back in and slammed it shut for him.
     "Hee-Heeeeeeeee!" the old man cackled as they accelerated away.  Hank's heart was pounding in his chest like a maniacal carpenter driving handfuls of 16 penny nails at break-neck speed into fresh-cut pine 2 by 4 studs with a framer's hatchet, both from the exertion of pushing the Pinto by himself as well as from the excitement of narrowly escaping two murderous (albeit severely disabled) and (no doubt) blood-thirsty thugs.  His saliva tasted like blood, and it was a full five minutes before he was able to catch his breath enough to speak again.
     "What in the name of heck is going on?" he gasped as soon as he could sputter some words out.  "Was that really Tony and Larry back there?"
     "You're dam straight it was," replied his dad, the smile disappearing from his lips.  "I told you they don't let up.  They never have, and they never will!"
     "But how many years have they been chasing you?"
     "I dunno.  I sorta lost count."
     Hank shifted his gaze out the car window.  The city had disappeared, and they were now driving through the countryside, passing field after barren field where corn had once grown.  "So where are we going to now?"  He hadn't been this far out of town in a long time, and a feeling of mild alarm began to grow in him.
     "Well, Hank," drawled Le'von, "You and me are gonna take a little road trip.  We gotta find out where your mom has gone off to.  You see, I figure she's got legal custody of you and the other kids, and, well, I'm sick and tired of bein' alone and all, and I figure she ain't gonna willingly share custody with me unless I can find a way to make it right with her, and I figure I got a better chance if I got you with me.  So, long story short, I'm abductin' you.  Hell, you're face might just end up on a milk carton at school, and you'll be famous!"
     "But Dad, I... I don't think you really have to 'abduct' me.  And I don't even go to school any more.  I'm fifty-four years old!"
     Le'von looked looked at him in surprise, and they almost went off the road.  "What'd you say?"
     "I'm fifty-four years old, for gosh sakes!  I haven't seen you for more'n 50 years!"
     Le'von looked upset.  "It ain't been that long, has it?  Well, I be go to hell!"
     They drove along in silence for a bit.  Hank couldn't shake the feeling that he was forgetting something that was extremely important, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what it was.  And there was something about leaving his hometown that was making him feel sad, even though he was thrilled to be reunited with his father.  He finally spoke up again.  "So we're going to see mom?  Where is she?"
    "I don't rightly know myself," sighed Le'von.  "But I've got some clues.  I've been doin' some snoopin' around, and, though I don't exactly know where she's livin' right now, I do know where her sister Flower is.  She's up in Denver, and I got her address right here."  He patted his shirt pocket.  "I figure she'd know, seein' as how her and your mom was pretty close.  And if you're with me, I don't think she'll clam up about it, 'cause she'll probably feel bad for you, you bein' just a kid and all."   
     Hank could see that his father had it all figured out, and he looked genuinely earnest about  reuniting with his mother.  "I suppose you're right.  Aunt Flower will tell us, if she knows."  He sat back in his seat again and forced himself to try to relax.
     "Looks like we're bout sixty miles from 'Wacko', and then it'll be on to 'Fort Worthless' from there," his father observed as he lit up a Lucky Strike.  Out of consideration for his son, he cracked the window down about a half inch so the smoke could escape.  "We'll be in 'Armadillo' by mornin', uh, as the song goes."  The sun was below the horizon now, so he pulled the knob on the dash to turn on the headlights.  "I suggest you sit back and enjoy the ride, boy!  We're on our way to Coloradah!"
                   

(Next time: Oh, Montana! continues as Le'von and Hank make a questionable decision to pick up a hitchhiker who may, or may not, be a vampire!)