Well, here it is tuesday and I am still emotionally and physically hung over - emotionally because our beloved Green Bay Packers "thugged it out" in Chicago - and physically from stacking five cords of firewood over the weekend. You simply cannot commit 18 penalties in a game and even have a chance to win. And even at that they did have a chance to win. Remember that short easy pass that would have been a touchdown? The rookie let it go right through his hands.
Mr. McCarthy better instill some discipline in his ranks.
C'mon guys. Play the game with some expertise. Everybody holds - but some know how to do it so it goes unnoticed.
And the refs sucked as usual.
As did the Bear fans who yelled at Nick Collins, calling him a nigger and spitting on him. In my estimation, Collins reacted fairly enough by returning fire with his mouth piece.
It has gotten so that I have given up going to games in person because of trash like that.
________________________________________________________________
Feeling much better today. Because I am such a dumb ass I always forget that if I over exert myself, within a day, the fibromyalgia will kick my ass around the block. Which it did.
This afternoon its to the doctor for a blood draw and regularly scheduled meetings.
I am now about six weeks out of the gall bladder operation and so far so good.
__________________________________________________________________
I am so sick of politics. Mark Belling, candidate challenging Senator Feinfold's seat said: The Feingold garage ad "is a fake: He’s not standing in front of his house."
So what's your point?
Of course he is green screened to save time so that he can get actual work done! But you will notice from earlier shots, that is his same house.
What a freakin' idiot!
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________________________________________________________________
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
CURSES! DETROIT LIONS LOSE TO QUEENS
My good pal and benefactor Tom Johnson drove all the way up from Madison via Watertown to help me organize my stove wood for the winter. I had started stacking without him and found out what a difference a year makes in physical prowess. It took me most of an hour to get the first row about three deep. Luckily Tom arrived and we swung into high gear and by saturday night we were two thirds of the way through the entire stacking.
Tom had expressly asked for a "Blinky" pizza ( italian sausage and jalepeno-stuffed green olive), a freshly baked cherry pie and giant popovers for sunday morning, which I gladly supplied.
It is a great sense of comfort to have all that wood heat stacked just outside my door, lying in wait for the cold and snow of Wisconsin winter. My sincere thanks to Tom for being such a great help.
_______________________________________________________________
Was really hoping that the Detroit Lions would make the Vikings 0-3 today, but alas, it was not meant to be. I was amazed how many times both teams "shot themselves in the foot" with turn overs today. How many interceptions did grandpa Favre throw today? I know at least two.
We turned it off shortly after the beginning of the second half and sought out a shadow box for Tom's Bart starr autographed jersey. Found a beauty at Michael's with 40 per cent off! Made the afternoon worthwhile.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
GLAD THE NFL IS BACK
The maple tree the view of which fills my entire window is just beginning to turn. I think summer's over.
Still trying to divorce myself from politics as this is a crazy country we live in and I can't deal with it. Gonna bury myself in the gladiators of the NFL and join the blind masses.
In that aspect, life is pretty sweet for a Packer fan. When both the Vikings and the Cowboys are 0-2, it makes life bearable. So bring on the unbearable Bears. I have been watching the NFL Channel and ESPN a lot more lately and have not tired of the highlights of watching my man Clay Matthews wreak havoc in opponents' backfields.
If his inspiration was because his son and his dad were in the stands, I hope grandpa and his grandson will be there every game!
Still can't believe how big that dude's arms are! And with the long, long, hair he is a virtual Samson!
Ah, yes. What would I do without my football!
____________________________________________________________________
A store that sells new husbands has opened in New York City , where a
woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the
entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value
of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The
shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to
go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the
building!
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband. On the first
floor the sign on the door reads:
*Floor 1* - These men Have Jobs.
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:
*Floor 2* - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
'That's nice,' she thinks, 'but I want more.'
So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:
*Floor 3* - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are Extremely Good
Looking.
'Wow,' she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:
*Floor 4* - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking
and Help With Housework.
'Oh, mercy me!' she exclaims, 'I can hardly stand it!'
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:
*Floor 5* - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous,
Help with Housework, and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor, where the
sign
reads:
*Floor 6* - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men
on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are
impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
*PLEASE NOTE:*
To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opened a New Wives
> > > store just across the street.
> > >
> > > The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money and like beer.
The third, fourth, fifth and sixth floors have never been visited
Still trying to divorce myself from politics as this is a crazy country we live in and I can't deal with it. Gonna bury myself in the gladiators of the NFL and join the blind masses.
In that aspect, life is pretty sweet for a Packer fan. When both the Vikings and the Cowboys are 0-2, it makes life bearable. So bring on the unbearable Bears. I have been watching the NFL Channel and ESPN a lot more lately and have not tired of the highlights of watching my man Clay Matthews wreak havoc in opponents' backfields.
If his inspiration was because his son and his dad were in the stands, I hope grandpa and his grandson will be there every game!
Still can't believe how big that dude's arms are! And with the long, long, hair he is a virtual Samson!
Ah, yes. What would I do without my football!
____________________________________________________________________
A store that sells new husbands has opened in New York City , where a
woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the
entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value
of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The
shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to
go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the
building!
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband. On the first
floor the sign on the door reads:
*Floor 1* - These men Have Jobs.
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:
*Floor 2* - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
'That's nice,' she thinks, 'but I want more.'
So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:
*Floor 3* - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are Extremely Good
Looking.
'Wow,' she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:
*Floor 4* - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking
and Help With Housework.
'Oh, mercy me!' she exclaims, 'I can hardly stand it!'
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:
*Floor 5* - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous,
Help with Housework, and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor, where the
sign
reads:
*Floor 6* - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men
on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are
impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
*PLEASE NOTE:*
To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opened a New Wives
> > > store just across the street.
> > >
> > > The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money and like beer.
The third, fourth, fifth and sixth floors have never been visited
Thursday, September 16, 2010
WAUSAU TEACHERS LIVE UP TO "RUDE LISTENER" STEREOTYPE
I haven't posted for quite some time for a couple of reasons, primarily - I have been spending a lot of time with my friend Doug who has gone through a lot of medical hell the last five weeks. He is home now, though, and friends are taking turns staying overnight with him this first week or two. I stayed over this past tuesday, the day he came home from the hospital.
I was unable to help out on wednesday as I had a gig in Wausau for the Wausau Teachers Union gathering at a local micro-brewery.
In my business, my mantra has always been: "Every job is an adventure". Unfortunately, I have had way too much time off, had written some new stuff, and was really pumped to drive over and do a hell of a job for them.
If you ask a teacher what kind of audience teachers are, they admit openly that they are rude. And they proved it again yesterday. I would say that after I was introduced, it was quiet for about five minutes and then audible conversations began at tables throughout the "audience".
This tends to take the fun out of performing comedy. I would say about half my audience were talking shop with one another while the other half strained to hear the show.
Consequently, laughs were subdued throughout the show, and audience participation (when asked) was nil.
And at the risk of being accused of being a sexist, the women teachers were the worst offenders.
So I did my 45, they all gave me "fleeting duck" applause - even the ones who applauded while still talking to a friend, and I made a hasty retreat.
I closed by saying: "Wanna thank those of you that listened and to all of those who talked throughout the show, I would like to say, go to hell."
The listeners applauded and the talkers didn't even know I had dispatched them.
By the time I got home I had formulated what I should have said in closing:
"I would like to thank the few who listened to my show and to the rest of you I issue a curse:
"MAY ALL OF YOUR STUDENTS TREAT YOU WITH THE SAME RESPECT THAT WAS GIVEN ME TODAY."
Fortunately, I got a call from Terry Kittson as I was leaving Wausau and he and I went to visit Suzi who is at a rehabilitation center in nearby Weston, and my trip to Wausau was saved!
Please remember Suzi in your prayers. She is in a monumental struggle.
_______________________________________________________________________
I was unable to help out on wednesday as I had a gig in Wausau for the Wausau Teachers Union gathering at a local micro-brewery.
In my business, my mantra has always been: "Every job is an adventure". Unfortunately, I have had way too much time off, had written some new stuff, and was really pumped to drive over and do a hell of a job for them.
If you ask a teacher what kind of audience teachers are, they admit openly that they are rude. And they proved it again yesterday. I would say that after I was introduced, it was quiet for about five minutes and then audible conversations began at tables throughout the "audience".
This tends to take the fun out of performing comedy. I would say about half my audience were talking shop with one another while the other half strained to hear the show.
Consequently, laughs were subdued throughout the show, and audience participation (when asked) was nil.
And at the risk of being accused of being a sexist, the women teachers were the worst offenders.
So I did my 45, they all gave me "fleeting duck" applause - even the ones who applauded while still talking to a friend, and I made a hasty retreat.
I closed by saying: "Wanna thank those of you that listened and to all of those who talked throughout the show, I would like to say, go to hell."
The listeners applauded and the talkers didn't even know I had dispatched them.
By the time I got home I had formulated what I should have said in closing:
"I would like to thank the few who listened to my show and to the rest of you I issue a curse:
"MAY ALL OF YOUR STUDENTS TREAT YOU WITH THE SAME RESPECT THAT WAS GIVEN ME TODAY."
Fortunately, I got a call from Terry Kittson as I was leaving Wausau and he and I went to visit Suzi who is at a rehabilitation center in nearby Weston, and my trip to Wausau was saved!
Please remember Suzi in your prayers. She is in a monumental struggle.
_______________________________________________________________________
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Thank You Patrick for the Comment!
I just wanted to say thank you to "Patrick" for leaving a comment on one of my recent babblings. Someone comments in either Japanese or Chinese and I can't understand a blind word!
Cool!
_______________________________________________________________________
Cool!
_______________________________________________________________________
This and That
Heagle. It's Irish and Dutch. Which means I'll have a beer as long as you are buying.
MY VETERINARIAN IS ALSO A TAXIDERMIST - WHICH MEANS ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, I WILL GET MY CAT BACK
Answers to two questions everyone wants to know and are too polite to ask:
186 pounds naked
and my age? Somewhere between "NEVER TRUST A FART" and 'HELP - I'VE FALLEN AND I CAN'T GET UP!"
You'd think after ten years of physical chaos ( a heart attack, quadruple bypass, a twice operated-on right leg, a twice broken left leg, a TIA, and a gall bladder removal I would weigh 105 pounds, tops.
186 pounds!
I blame the weight gain on CRS. Can't remember stuff. I can't remember if I've exercised or not. I look down at my feet - if I got my tennis shoes on, I figure I did it and I go watch television.
My wife's not happy about the weight gain. She reads to me from Prevention Magazine. I hate that magazine.
"You know, Larry, it says here in Prevention Magazine if you just take a half an hour walk after dinner it'll improve you sex life."
I don't know anybody that lives that close to the house.
She also subscribes to Readers Digest.
A number of years ago Readers Digest had a story on how to save money for a vacation. Get a large pickle jar, put it under the bed. Every time you make love, you put a dollar in the pickle jar.
I thought that a great idea so i got myself one of those industrial-size Sam's Club pickle jars.
I dumped out the pickles
who needs pickles? I got a pickle of my own and it's taking me on vacation.
I left that pickle jar under the bed for nearly three years. Then I figured: "Time to check the pickle jar!"
There's gotta be at least eight dollars in there cuz I'm a hot kinda guy!
Three hundred twenty five dollars and 62 cents!
I said to my wife" "Where did all this money come from?"
She says: "Not everybody is as stingy as you."
And then I realized where the 62 cents came from.
C'mon! It's a joke! I made up the part about the pickle jar!
It was a small valise.
No, I'm still lying. I just like to say "valise".
It was a shoe box.
I have kleptomania - but I take things for it.
Some people try to turn back their life's odometers. Not me! I want people to know why I look this way. I've traveled a long way and most of the roads weren't paved.
And I figured out why my own dear mother felt that her sixties just flew right by -- when you get to be this age evrything takes twice as long to accomplish as it did in your fifties.
Just getting ready for bed takes a good hour. Pills - I got two full drawers! I take something for everything!
__________________________________________________________________
I was thinking as I drove to Wausau yesterday that I am very glad that I was born in 1941 and that my race is almost run. Before the last presidential election I did something that i hadn't done since Barry Goldwater - I went out and canvassed neighborhoods for Barack Obama.
After observing the actions of Mr. Obama, the only item I can give him good grades on is health care which still fell short of what it should have been.
"Don't ask, don't tell" still remains, and we are quickly bleeding to financial death thanks to his idiotic continuous support of the Afghanistan debacle.
But what are my choices when it comes to politics? The Tea Party? Although they are presently the darlings of the media, they look to me to be the same folk I run into at Wal Mart way too often. And that's being kind.
And since two terms of the Bush Man, I will never, ever vote republican again. So what am I left with? The lesser of two evils - the dumocrats.
Well, at least I can feel good about voting for Russ Feingold.
I have been training myself to just sit back and watch the circus.
_______________________________________________________________
MY VETERINARIAN IS ALSO A TAXIDERMIST - WHICH MEANS ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, I WILL GET MY CAT BACK
Answers to two questions everyone wants to know and are too polite to ask:
186 pounds naked
and my age? Somewhere between "NEVER TRUST A FART" and 'HELP - I'VE FALLEN AND I CAN'T GET UP!"
You'd think after ten years of physical chaos ( a heart attack, quadruple bypass, a twice operated-on right leg, a twice broken left leg, a TIA, and a gall bladder removal I would weigh 105 pounds, tops.
186 pounds!
I blame the weight gain on CRS. Can't remember stuff. I can't remember if I've exercised or not. I look down at my feet - if I got my tennis shoes on, I figure I did it and I go watch television.
My wife's not happy about the weight gain. She reads to me from Prevention Magazine. I hate that magazine.
"You know, Larry, it says here in Prevention Magazine if you just take a half an hour walk after dinner it'll improve you sex life."
I don't know anybody that lives that close to the house.
She also subscribes to Readers Digest.
A number of years ago Readers Digest had a story on how to save money for a vacation. Get a large pickle jar, put it under the bed. Every time you make love, you put a dollar in the pickle jar.
I thought that a great idea so i got myself one of those industrial-size Sam's Club pickle jars.
I dumped out the pickles
who needs pickles? I got a pickle of my own and it's taking me on vacation.
I left that pickle jar under the bed for nearly three years. Then I figured: "Time to check the pickle jar!"
There's gotta be at least eight dollars in there cuz I'm a hot kinda guy!
Three hundred twenty five dollars and 62 cents!
I said to my wife" "Where did all this money come from?"
She says: "Not everybody is as stingy as you."
And then I realized where the 62 cents came from.
C'mon! It's a joke! I made up the part about the pickle jar!
It was a small valise.
No, I'm still lying. I just like to say "valise".
It was a shoe box.
I have kleptomania - but I take things for it.
Some people try to turn back their life's odometers. Not me! I want people to know why I look this way. I've traveled a long way and most of the roads weren't paved.
And I figured out why my own dear mother felt that her sixties just flew right by -- when you get to be this age evrything takes twice as long to accomplish as it did in your fifties.
Just getting ready for bed takes a good hour. Pills - I got two full drawers! I take something for everything!
__________________________________________________________________
I was thinking as I drove to Wausau yesterday that I am very glad that I was born in 1941 and that my race is almost run. Before the last presidential election I did something that i hadn't done since Barry Goldwater - I went out and canvassed neighborhoods for Barack Obama.
After observing the actions of Mr. Obama, the only item I can give him good grades on is health care which still fell short of what it should have been.
"Don't ask, don't tell" still remains, and we are quickly bleeding to financial death thanks to his idiotic continuous support of the Afghanistan debacle.
But what are my choices when it comes to politics? The Tea Party? Although they are presently the darlings of the media, they look to me to be the same folk I run into at Wal Mart way too often. And that's being kind.
And since two terms of the Bush Man, I will never, ever vote republican again. So what am I left with? The lesser of two evils - the dumocrats.
Well, at least I can feel good about voting for Russ Feingold.
I have been training myself to just sit back and watch the circus.
_______________________________________________________________
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