I Do These Things…

…so you don’t have to. Driving into town this a.m., I began singing (if “singing” is the word for it) a little ditty that popped into my head for (literally) God only knows what reason:

On top of some carrots, all covered in mud,
I shot a “wabbit” for old Elmer Fudd.

I cooked it with pepper (it tasted like hare),
Poor Elmer just sat there; he could only stare.

“I ate all ‘your wabbit’,” I said with aplomb,
“‘Cos you didn’t shoot it; now sit on your thumb.”

OK, I was really close to town by the time I started, so I didn’t even finish the thing, but there you are: my mind, coffee-deprived.

Continue reading “I Do These Things…”

Old Dogs, Old Tricks

…and old news, but still laughable. The Zero’s people have been pillorying The Romney Android for transporting his dog on top of his car in a dog carrier (complete with improvised windshield) in 1983 as cruel and unfeeling. I agree. The poor thing couldn’t hang its head out the window into a stream of 70mph wind! Poor thing!

OTOH… Stolen:

Q: What did Barack Hussein Obama Soetoro‘s dad tell him at the dog park?

A: “Don’t play with your food.”

And…

Not Exactly Divina Commedia, Perhaps

More like, Commedia Nera… maybe.

Hey, my folks are approaching 90. They have doctors’ appointments just about every day of the week (and this last week definitely every day), and their lives seem to revolve around medical tests, consultants with specialists, surgeries, therapy and who knows what else.

At least with the weight I’ve lost, I’ll not have to buy a new suit for any funerals.

See Sydney Carton for the relevant viewpoint on death and dying:

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

I would miss ’em, but really, “…it is a far, far better rest…” Still, glad they’re having fun with their busy medical schedule, since I really don’t want to start missing them. Selfish of me, I know, but there it is. As long as they’re having fun, let ’em rack up the med hours. They’ve certainly earned it.

Raspberry for the Common Man

Please, don’t get me wrong; I have all due respect for the common man. He (shaddup, feminazis: I’ll use the CORRECT generic “he” to represent she/he anytime I want to, and “common man” to refer to “common woman” as well. Lump it if you don’t like it) struggles against great odds to survive in a harsh world.

But still…

You know, it used to be said, “Man: the tool-making, tool using animal,” but now that we know that parrots, monkeys, apes, raccoons and who knows how many other animals “make” (OK, improvise ore than fashion) and use tools, even the few who can recall that once-popular meme no longer use it. (The common man, of course, has no idea it was once even a meme.)

Now, it might be said, “Man: the internet user,” in the same way one can say of parrots that they use found objects as tools. Common man uses the internet, even when he has trouble turning on the device he uses to access it. (Do your own search on “computer support jokes”; they’re almost all based on real events, real users doing exceptionally stupid things.)

May I once again point the reader to (a translation of) Ortega’s insightful, even prophetic work, Revolt of the Masses? There are downloadable versions available via the web, but I’ll not point to those pirated copies. You can buy one for under $10 at Amazon.

On a cheerier note, let me echo this blog’s header here:

“In a democracy (‘rule by mob’), those who refuse to learn from history are in the majority and dictate that everyone else suffer for their ignorance.”

Now, doesn’t that make you grateful for the common man?

Titanic Party, Anyone?

Not interested in throwing a “Titanic Party” to celebrate/commemorate the 100th Anniversary of the April 12, 1912 sinking of the Titanic, but if one were to throw such a shindig, wouldn’t it be appropriate to do it today, you know, Friday the 13th?

Just askin’.

Consider the Lilies…

“Consider the lilies how they grow: they toil not, they spin not; and yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” Luke 12:27

OK, so the picture isn’t of “lilies of the field” but another, as beautiful and even more useful, flower.

Consider the dandelion, cursed by dunderheaded, tasteless American enstupiates who deem it a weed simply because it can enrich their dull, boring, monochromatic lawns with glorious color and beautiful textures. This flower gifts those who aren’t too dull-witted to see with both a beautiful, slightly variegated green and a stunning, joyous yellow. Moreover, its leaves, roots and flower are all highly nutritious and, when properly prepared and served, delicious as well. Not only that, but if one were to perform a simple search for medicinal properties of dandelions, one would quickly discover that the plant has multiple medicinal properties above and beyond its nutritional values.

And the stem even has uses beyond nutritive and therapeutic values. Perform a search for “dandelion latex”. Surprising, no? (Those in the know have answered, “No.” *heh*) Moreover, the latex produced from dandelions causes far fewer allergic reactions than the common rubber plant latex.

And this wonderful plant is exceptionally hardy! Just ask any idiot who’s tried to eliminate it from their ugly, boring, monochromatic lawn. Oh, and self-propagating!

What more could one ask from a beautiful ornament of nature? Beauty, utility, hardiness and easy propagation! This wonderful flower has it all! I rejoice that my dandelion crop is so very full this year, so far, and am doing everything within my power to help my neighbors’ yards experience the same bounty.

*heh*


Oh, and my wild allium “crop” is also doing well. Happy-happy-joy-joy!

🙂

I’ve heard it said…

…that God does not subtract from man’s allotted time those hours spent in fishing. Now, I like to “fish”. Note the reservation. You see, “fishing” for me means putting a bare hook (or no hook) in water and taking a nap. *heh*

Now, that’s some good fishing! (Of course, the only drawback is the looky-loo nosey parker coming by to ask how the fishing is or a game warden who asks for a license. “What license? Why, there’sh not even a hook on that line, ossifer! I’m jusht tryin’ to catch some zzs, here… “ *heh* Gimme a couple more years and I can at least have the joy of telling the game warden to go fish [with a “:-P”] since residents of my State past a certain age don’t need a license.)


Meanwhile, from another source, “…the only thing that bothers me is insomnia during working hours.”