The Demijon Blog

"I beg your pardon; but I just couldn’t resist this one."

"Prepare yourself !!"  "Take a deep breath; and read on," 

A couple of old guys were golfing one day, when one of the men mentioned that he had an appointment with Dr. Basil, (the Dentist); for a new set of dentures the next morning.

His elderly friend remarked that he, too, had gone to the very same Dentist two years before; and for the same reason.

"Is that so?" the first old gentleman asked.  "Were your dentures satisfactory?"  "And, would you recommend him to anyone else?"

"Well: let's put it this way, was the reply;  I was on the Lakeside Golf Course yesterday, when one of the players ahead of us, on the ninth fairway, hooked a shot. That ball, undoubtedly, was  traveling, at least,  200 m.p.h. when it smacked me right in the crotch."

The first old guy; seemingly confused, then asked, "What does playing a round of Golf have to do with your dentures?"

The second man answered, "That was the first time in two years, that my darned teeth didn't hurt!!"

Any more Questions?

Demijon

Come on:  Admit it:  You think it's funny too.            Dj.

Warning!!!  If, by chance, you are contemplating defining a choice word, on your own; give it some thought, brother. 

The odds are about equal to the chances of winning the Lottery; "(A heap to one);"  that the word will end up with multiple meanings when the rank and file of Americans get through with it.  Examples follow.

While scrutinizing Mr, Webster's publication, I came to the conclusion that there is one word in particular, that Noah, himself, seemed unsure about. 

There possibly are more such words; but when I discovered that over half a page was devoted to different usages for this one particular word; 'the light bulb above my head lit up.'  Of course; you know that old Demijon cannot leave anything alone without 'Making a stink about it.'   However, (this word) was special; in that, the old bulb does not glow as readily as it used to.  I wonder why?  "Wadda-ya-think?"  "Should I change to energy efficient fluorescent?"

The one word that I found is commonly used as a noun, an adjective, an adverb, and I don't know what all else!  Don't get me wrong:  I am not trying to argue with the expert.  I am merely attempting to clarify why the English Language is sometimes hard to understand.

Okay; Here goes:   The WORD is!!!  [...].

WELL:  A hole in the ground; In the early days, this hole was dug to attain water.  It was situated near the house; and frame was built around the hole, with chains, ropes, pulleys, etc. attached; in order to draw the water needed for survival of man or beast.  Later; because of technology, it became one of the most lucrative schemes known to mankind; – The "OIL WELL!"

To continue – - -,

WELL:  One third of a question that we all have used to inquire as to the health of a friend or relative; i.e. "Are you Well?"

"WELL;   WELL!  What have we here?"  This could possibly mean that something was discovered that had been previously hidden.

"WELL;  I NEVER!;"  Denotes surprise or unbelief.  This phrase is extremely popular among the gossip mongers.

"WELL;  HOW ABOUT IT?"  Letting someone know that your patience is wearing thin and you're demanding to know, right NOW!

WELL- KNOWN:  More or less, acknowledges that the person being "raked over the coals by the gossipers" is not a stranger.

WELL-OFF:  This is assurance that the person being gossiped about is not necessarily rich; but is comfortably despicable. 

WELL- FED:  Indicates that a Pet or other Animal is cared for, and sometimes applies to a friend who has spent too much time at the food trough.

"WELL, WELL, WELL!"  This usually prefaces someone being 'caught in the act' of wrongdoing, and is just before; "getting the daylights stomped out of them!"     

"OH, WELL:"  Disregard or even disgust;  What you are saying or, at  least, thinking after reading this garbage.

These few words are certainly not all of the ones that can be confused or abused, by US, (the public); but you get the picture.

Demijon

"If you have read this far; you did not heed the warning and now, it's too late.  Sorry 'Bout that!"        Dj,      

The installation of new software is supposed to to be guaranteed to immediately turn me into a world-famous writer.

Nothing could be further from the truth.  Instead of creating, I am now hunting among thousands of icons before I can get this box of wires and bolts to favorably respond to any command.  I am, therefore, left with only two options.  Number-1. I can give up on the creation process; or Number-2. I can sharpen my stubby pencil and retrieve my "Blue Horse" tablet. 

Should I return to the days when I could record my thoughts for posterity without benefit of modern technology?  Try for maybe!  At least, my pencil does not emit beeps and cries of default every time I make a mark.

There is one small problem with this line of reasoning.  No one will be able to read what I write in this mode.  My penmanship is such that even My incomparable brain cannot decipher it once it has been allowed to season for awhile.

"Read the manual;"  I am constantly reminded by my "geekish" children.  To ask this of me is akin to enticing a cow to give chocolate ice cream.  All of the instructions are written in some form of unintelligible language that only the designer, along with the creator of the new software, can understand.

Once, after repeated attempts to convey my musings to this monster, I finally gave up, placed a package of "D-Con" near the Mouse and went to bed.  I have finally arrived at the conclusion that this "&^#*%^%@+$$@&" do-hicky-ma-jig"  literally hates me is perhaps the easiest of the many decisions required of a "GENYUS" such as myself.

Punishing myself in this fashion is probably responsible for the deterioration of my exceptional mind as well as my perfect body.  The vitality which I once enjoyed has been reduced to a quivering mass of flesh; likened unto that of pale, wrinkled canvas; loosely draped over a washboard.  

Reliance on the HELP mode of this monstrosity has caused such decay in my once, sharp-as-a-tack brain, that it is useless for anything except the ability to invent new cuss words to describe computers.

Needless to say; the designers of this demon have done an excellent job of destroying one of the world's greatest composers of literature.

I hope they're happy!

Demijon

Was Mr. Shakespeare, or Mr. Hemingway, ever faced with any problems such as these?      Dj. wants to know.

THE BELOW RULES MUST BE STRICTLY ADHERED TO; if you want to have a long and happy retirement life.

Rule # 1.  Rising before the hour of 10:30 a.m. is absolutely forbidden; unless, your tee time at The Club is scheduled for 08:00 a.m.  In this case; your lovely roommate must be awakened at 04:30 to press your Golf shirt and Trousers, shine your Golf shoes and prepare you a hearty breakfast.

Rule # 2.  In the event that "The Little Woman"  has planned a Bridge Club meeting at your abode, on the same day as your usual Golf day; she will be required to end the meeting, well in advance of your return from The Club; to make sure that the house is dusted, vacuumed, and fumigated.  Nothing is less relaxing than the faint aroma of "eu-de-Wal-Mart,"  wafting throughout the living room.  

Rule # 3.  For the purpose of peace and harmony, allow your roommate a one-hour shopping trip, at least, every four weeks.  Note that this time cannot, in any event, coincide with the weekly meetings of your Poker Wednesday's, when she will be required to serve sandwich's and beer. 

Rule # 4.  Shaving more than twice each week is discouraged, except on Golf day.  Your Tailor must be kept abreast of the latest styles preferred by celebrity's.  Consideration should be given to regularity of haircuts; (i.e.) if either hearing or sight is impeded.  Ponytails are viable alternates.

Rule # 5.  The chore of lawn mowing should never be undertaken unless your neighbors complain about snakes.  However; you are permitted to ask them to move.  Explain to them that the little woman has other duties that take precedence, and she will surely get around to it eventually.

Rule # 6.  Perhaps, the most abused regulations are the regularity of meals.  Your roommate should have been taught from day # 1 that meals must be served in a rigid, timely manner.  If these timelines are not observed, you should gently scold her.  If repeated; become furious and don't eat a bite.

Rule # 6.  Your roommate must abide by the premise that "What's mine is MINE, & what's yours is OURS!"  In the unlikely event that her application for employment at Joe's Hot-Dog Stand is approved; her paycheck must be endorsed and given to you.

Rule # 7.  There is a slight chance that some idiot will offer YOU employment.  In this event; you must explain to him that you are content with your lifestyle, as it is presently.  If he does not understand your reluctance, be forceful and insist:  (i,e,)  "I don't HAVE to work for you; I CAN starve!"

Rule # 8,  Retaining a professional Masseur for a relaxing massage after a round of golf is encouraged.  Getting the "kinks out" out before returning home from The Club will greatly enhance your before-dinner Nap.

Following  these simple rules will result in an enjoyable life as a retired citizen.  After all; you have earned the right to do as you damned-well please and "let the devil take the hind part."   If your roommate objects to any of these regulations and acts accordingly, just remember; "The swelling will soon go down, and the scars will eventually fade."        

Demijon

Advanced notice:  The author of this post is considered the ultimate authority on the subject of retired lifestyles; therefore, questions will not be entertained.          Dj. 

I have no earthly idea just where or when this phrase originated.  I think the meaning is roughly that some two items are much the same.

Folks in my hometown have made this statement for as long as I can remember.  Ask anyone what their preference is for almost any new brand name product, and the reply will invariably be; "It's six of one and 1/2 dozen of the other."

This reply is not due to the lack of knowledge about various products; but rather that any new item would meet their needs, 'just fine, thank you.'  Of course, there are some that will swear that Brand X is undoubtedly the best; but most will rationalize that a new product will have a warranty to cover any failure.

However, this thinking will not deter these die-hards from offering proof of their beliefs and thus, instigating heated arguments while seated on "The Sons of Rest" bench in front of the Courthouse.  Perhaps one will insist that the die-hard's opinion is 'Non-sequitur,' and he will immediately be accused of "showing off."

Obviously, very few of this learned body have ever heard the word Non-sequitur; to say nothing of knowing the meaning, (to have no bearing on what was just said).  It is therefore, possible that a round or two of fisticuffs could ensue.  These are proud people who object to being 'put-down' in the presence of their peers.

When the "Show-off"  has been given his comeuppance, things settle down and discussions continue as to the merits of different models of automobiles.  "Bo" Hadley, would state that he believed the Ford V/8 engine is superior.  Whereas, Minton Arbuckle would reply by saying that he would not own any car in which the pistons ran sideways.   "Bo" would then inform him that the valves in eight cylinder engines do not clatter like in the six cylinder General Motor engines.

While the pros and cons of engines were being argued, Bubba Stratford, would sit quietly on an up-turned Coca Cola crate.  He usually would shift his "Red Man" chewing tobacco from one jaw to the other and listen intently.  When "Bo" would finally grow tired of attempting to get the best of Minton, he would turn to Bubba and ask; "Bubba: If you were going to buy a new car today, which model would you choose?"  

Bubba would sit quietly, apparently in deep thought, for several minutes before answering.  Then he would  take another sip from his Big Orange bottle and finally offer his opinion; [...]

"I recon it's six of one and 1/2 dozen of another; but, for some reason,  I KINDLY LIKE THAT LITTLE STUDEBAKER!"

Demijon

It was sound reasoning like this that propelled "Bubba" into the office of Mayor of Littleton, South Carolina, for an unprecedented four terms.        Dj.  

Tomorrow:  May 15, 2012; marks the 60th anniversary of [...]

MY LAST DAY AS A PARATROOPER!

"You  (/%#**?=+&@$^#)  MEAT HEADS:  YOU'VE HAD IT, NOW!!!"  I shouted: 

"Untie me and get my COT down from on top of these four footlockers!"  "I'VE GOT TO GO TO THE LATRINE!!!"

The entire platoon had been awakened by the sounds of a bugler, playing "reveille" over the Dog Company's intercom system.  They calmly went about business as usual, (making beds, policing the Barracks, etc.), and ignored my groans, shouts, and curses. 

They had succeeded in stacking four footlockers, lifted an Army cot; (without waking me, tied tight with a nylon jump rope), on top of them during the night.  They performed their morning ablutions, and as if nothing was wrong, they staggered to the Mess Hall for morning chow. 

All my pleadings fell on deaf ears until they finally relented and untied me when they returned to the barracks.  The hours of rigid physical training, (PT), that we all endured every day came into play then; and I broke the record for a fifty-yard dash to the latrine. The P.X. Beer had done it's job.

Having left most of my anger in the latrine; we all had a good laugh about the prank.  The Platoon, "fell out for duty," and went on the business of being the best trained outfit in the U.S. Army; and I returned to the life of a civilian 'ground – pounder.'

These "Meat heads" were confident that their actions this morning, would not border on insubordination toward the Sergeant; who had given them such a hard time.  They had all "pitched-in" to pay for the party at the P.X. last night; and were aware that I had received my Discharge on the day before. 

These were men who would not hesitate to jump from an Aircraft, into a combat zone; but would also do anything to promote a good laugh; even at the expense of one of their own.  They also, were all a far cry from being sentimental. 

They were rough & ready 'troopers' who expressed themselves this morning, by letting their Sergeant know that;  "No offense, Sarge.  We just want you to know that we consider YOU just 'ONE OF WE BOYS'!" 

They were a special breed!  They were Paratroopers.

Demijon

Thinking back; I wonder how I survived the night, (full of beer & tied in my cot); when 60 years later; my main concern is "visiting a bathroom or looking for one."             Dj.

When we hear this word, we usually associate it with one who allows saliva and/or food to dribble from the mouth.  I am reasonably certain that most of us have heard the expression; "Wipe the slobber from that baby's chin."  

However, while conducting research for another article, I happened upon a somewhat surprising definition for the word slobber.  Noah says, "To speak, write, etc. in a 'mawkish' or 'maudlin' way." 

My first thoughts were to 'just let the baby slobber' because very few of the folks that will bother to read my junk would understand mawkish or maudlin, anyway.  But; of course, old Demijon could not just leave things be; but had to dig into the bowels of Mr Webster's publication for the correct usage.

This discovery has caused me immense concern since much of my spare time is spent attempting to conjure up a Pulitzer-Prize winning Novel.  In fact, I frequently have visions of autograph sessions  in major Bookstores; with long lines awaiting the affixing of my "handle" to the cover-sheet of a best-selling Book. 

How could I incorporate the words, Mawkish; (having a sweet, sickening taste; insipid or nauseating). and – Maudlin,  (foolish & tearfully or weakly sentimental); and # 2 definition; (sentimental from too much liquor); into a Blockbuster about Young-uns Slobbering?  Perhaps the lack of descriptive words such as these are the reasons for all those rejection slips that clutter my desk. 

Incidentally, I learned, early on; that abstinence from anything stronger than Coffee or Tea is a must when in the process of creating.  I have difficulty enough with the computer keyboard when my faculties are at their best.

Realization dawned on me that my writing style would have to be changed.  Heretofore; I have written about things that pleased me; but apparently my public demands an entirely different approach.  I contemplated a few popular novels and arrived at a sure-fire method of appealing to the majority of modern readers. 

OKAY:"  Here goes:

THE MURDER  by Demijon

Detective Albano was in the process of investigating the murder when his MAUDLIN, (foolish) partner said to him; "This sandwich is MAWKISH. (insipid)."  Albano also became Maudlin, (tearfully sentimental), as he recalled the beautiful Vicky making the sandwiches clad only in the top of HIS pajamas.  She was somewhat MAWKISH, (nauseating) since she had succumbed to MAUDLIN, (too much liquor) last evening.

Suddenly, I am distracted by my lovely wife of almost 59 years; who is loudly inquiring, "What in the hell are you doing in there?"

Undaunted; I reply… "Nothing much:  Just Slobbering!"

Demijon

I sure do hope that I sell enough novels to purchase a computer that will "NOT CUSS BACK AT ME!"         Dj.

.