Humor

"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.

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True meanings???

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,      

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Glory Be!!!

How long has it been since you have heard the above words used to denote surprise or perhaps unbelief?  As a child, I distinctly remember that this was about as far as a lady would go toward the use of profanity.  In fact, profanity was not as widely used by men or women as it is today.  There were even theater owners who considered banning the movie, Gone With The Wind, because of Rhett Butler's famous response to his Scarlett.

Anyone who consistently made use of cuss words was branded as rough and tumble, rowdy, or even trash.  Most men would not venture beyond saying heck, or perhaps gosh-darned; especially when in the company of the fairer sex. Anyone who committed these blunders was in danger of being shunned by the rank and file.

An incident that brought this to my mind was a supposedly comedy program on national television recently.  To make matters worse, the individual responsible for this breach of conduct was a beautiful blonde lady who appeared very young.  A well-known comedienne; she performed before a mixed audience that apparently loved her act from the response she received.

Her material would have made me uncomfortable and quite possibly fostered a blush, had I not been alone and at home.  Nevertheless, neither she nor anyone in her audience was disturbed in the least.

I am most certainly not a prude, and I most assuredly enjoy humor if it is in good taste; however, I am of the opinion that the producers of shows such as this should not allow this type of material to be broadcast in prime time or on a channel that is available to everyone.

To be sure; my television has an off button; but at this particular time, I was in such a state of shock that I could do nothing other than endure this sickening display of lewdness.

I would certainly hate to see a board of censors take control of our viewing; however, I firmly believe that this kind of programming is unsuitable on a network that has built its reputation by being family-oriented.

Needless to say, I was so taken a-back that all I could do was to sit there and repeat over and over again, the words: "GLORY BE!."

Demijon

It is fact that the world of entertainment is no longer geared to us old fogies.  You know the ones of whom I speak:  We are the viewers who applauded Roy Rogers; when he jailed the Rustlers, tipped his White Hat, and refused to accompany the beautiful Ranch Owner into her Boudoir. 

This was known; back then, as Hero Worship.               Dj. 

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Easy as 1 2 3? HA!!!

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.

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Regulations

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. 

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Six vs 1/2 Dozen

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.  

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The Anniversary

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.

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Hayfields

Arriving at the overgrown field, you climb down from the metal seat and release the brace that holds the mowing blade upright. Lowering the blade activates the Pittmon Rod that transfers power from the gears attached onto the wheels to the cutting blades. The V-shaped blades slide between stationary, metal fingers and clip the grass almost at ground level. The cut grass is left where it falls to dry (cure) for several days.

When all the grass in that particular field is cut; the operator climbs down from the seat, raises the blade and secures it with a rod and wing-nut to the base of the machine.  This machine is ridden to the storage shed and parked.  Three days later, the same animal is hitched to the Hay rake.

This implement is also ridden with a seat that is just as uncomfortable as the one on the Mowing Machine. However, it differs somewhat since it does no cutting. It's purpose is to rake the scattered grass into long rows called wind-rows.  When arriving at the hayfield, the operator lowers the tines to gather the grass while making passes through the field.

When the curved tines are full of grass, the operator raises a lever beside his seat that lifts the tines and the grass is deposited beside the row left by the last dump.  These wind-rows allow easier access to the hay when the Hay Baler arrives.  Wagons are driven beside the wind-rows and workers using pitch-forks, load the hay for transport to the Baler.  Normally several neighbors would "trade work" to help with the 'Haying'  on the day the Baler was contracted. 

Once all of the grass/hay is raked, a child is sent to relay a message to Mr. Brown to bring his Hay Baler, (with the one cylinder engine), at the first opportunity; to tightly pack and tie the grass into bales. If this is not done, another method of preserving the hay is The Haystack. 
Many small farmers used the Haystack method of preserving the animal food, since they could perform all the work themselves. 

This method is nothing more than positioning a pole into the ground and stacking the hay around it. If available, the hay would be covered by a tarp at the top to prevent rain from soaking the hay.

This is only a small part of the drudgery of farm work in the days before everything was mechanized. A few of the farmers owned their own mowing machines and hay rakes and shared them with neighbors. Once their raking was completed, Mr. Brown was contacted to bring his gasoline powered Hay-Baler to that farm and Bale for a small fee.  He usually traveled from one farm to another during Haying season,  These machines were much too expensive for the average farmer to own; therefore, many farmers depended on Mr. Brown's machine if they did not use the Haystack method. .

Demijon

Drudgery;  You ask?  Sure it was; but when a farmer had no other choice, it was accepted as a necessary part of life.     Dj. 

 

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Slobber

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.

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Telephone Scams

We have all received them. The telephone calls at the precise time we sit down for the evening meal.

A sexy sounding voice saying, "How are you this evening?  This is Sandy with Pot-O-Gold and I am calling to advise you that you could be next in line to win $1,000,000.00. All you have to do is apply for our Pot-O-Gold charge card and you may become our next millionaire. The fee is only $59.95 per month with a low interest rate of 47%.  Isn't that great?  To qualify, just send your SS number along with your bank account number to us at P. O. Box XXX:  and "we'll do the rest." (???)

Sound familiar? It gets worse.

Whenever we purchase a new appliance, there is a registration form enclosed in the package that they claim must be returned to validate our warranty. Some packages include other forms that seek all kinds of information about us. Things like – our total income?  where we like to shop?  amounts owed on Credit Cards?  Automobiles?  Major Appliances?  Mortgages?  Checking / Saving account numbers  & balances?  Questions about any wealthy relatives? – Are we on speaking terms with them?  You know; valuable information.

Sometimes, accompanying the instruction manual, is their Catalog and, (lo & behold), the very next week; we receive 47 catalogs from firms we have never heard of.  Even before our purchases are shipped; our names and addresses are apparently, sold to other retail outlets.  This, (the selling of addresses), is possibly a source of big revenue; as suggested by address label on a new catalog; i.e. (Demijon / Acme Steam Iron, etc).

Even the Department of Motor Vehicles once got into the act by selling names and addresses from their lists of automobile registrations. They did, however, offer a form that when filled out and returned to D.M.V., would remove our names from the list to be sold. Why should we be the ones to go to this trouble? They started the whole thing, right?   Incidentally, I experienced this after buying my first new automobile.

As irritating as telemarketing calls are, there are other unsolicited calls that are nothing more than malicious attempts to dig into our wallets.  These calls are made by unscrupulous individuals who prey on our compassion for the sole purpose of lining their own pockets. 

Example:  Several months ago my wife answered the telephone (you guessed it, at dinner time). The speaker identified himself as a member of the North Carolina Highway Patrol.  He tearfully asked if she would send "X number of dollars to a P.O. Box number;"  "For an established fund for the families of slain patrol officers" .

Fearing the worse, my wife asked the person to send specific information and she would then make a decision as to whether or not to donate. The caller became very indignant and hung up.  A later call to the Highway Patrol revealed that they do NOT make telephone solicitations.

Shortly afterward, I received a call from a lady claiming to be a representative of "Make a Wish Foundation."  She requested that I make a donation of ten dollars or more, (again, to a P. O.Box #), to fulfill the last wish of a terminally ill child.  Her tearful request fell on deaf ears since I had recently read that the legitimate Charity, (again), does NOT solicit funds via the telephone. 

Lately; a new scam has emerged.  When telephone is answered, a breathless voice says; "This is your FINAL notice about your credit card account.  Press one for information!"  When you comply, another voice says; "A check for X number of dollars, immediately sent to "Bob; at P.O.Box XXX," will activate your NEW credit card."     

Before any readers brand me as a scrooge; please allow me to explain that I am totally in favor of helping various "legitimate" charities.  However, it disturbs me greatly, that there are people who make a career of targeting those of us who, on a regular basis, experience "too much month left at the end of the money."

If you receive any of these calls, ask for sufficient identification and tell them you will return their call, or perhaps donate after verifying. If they refuse, simply hang up. Please don't become a victim.

Demijon

Isn't it about time that these "CRUDS"  work for a living; "Just like we do?"        Dj.

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