Forty Mother's Days Gone

Aw man, I had that dream again. You know, the one where you feel bad because you hadn't called your mother in so long, so you flip open your phone and cant figure out why she's not on your list.

You look under mom. Nothing. You look under Doris. Nada.
You take a shot at Mrs Renfro, but that makes no sense. You've never called your mother Mrs Renfro.
Then it hits you, why she is not in your phone.
It's a real shame too because Mrs Renfro loved to talk on the phone. I can see her now on the couch, but without the 20-foot cord that attaches to the yellow wall phone. She has an iPhone. Top of the line. She sent out who knows how many messages this morning. She's yakked up with who knows how many people.
And now she's ordering a pie from Tippin's. Probably a chocolate coconut cream.
Happy Mother's Day Mom!

THE REAL WORLD

 (-3) x (-6)= 18

Huh?
(-3) x (-6)= 18
Multiply two negatives and you get a positive. There is even a logical explanation for it, I know there is because I just read it, but I’ll be damned if I can explain it back to you.
So, (-3) x (-6)= 18.

That’s the one I’m sure I missed on the College Entrance Exam I took last night.
I was never any good at math.
That’s not true.
Once upon a time I was good at math. Good enough to land myself into an Honors Algebra class. But it was there that I learned how to not do my homework and barely pass. Mainly because I had discovered girls. Girls were my new Major. I passed algebra without really being able to do any algebra. That’s a real art man, one that I almost perfected. From there I went on to flunk Geometry, then Chemistry, and find myself as a senior in need of one single math credit in order to graduate from LD Bell.

That’s how I came to walk into room C-3 for my last shot at passing a math for dummies class. There stood Mr. Barker.
Mr. Barker had been my teacher for those failed Geometry and Chemistry classes. He took one look at me and said “Steve, after I call roll you can go to the office and see about a transfer to a different class if you like.”
I stumbled into my desk and said “No, Mr. Barker, I’m going to pass one of your dumb math classes if it’s the last thing I do” and the whole class busted out laughing.
See, I was one of these guys that sat there, and when Mr Barker said “Two plus two equals four” I would loudly proclaim “Yeah, like when will I ever be able to use THAT out in the real world.”

Well, it didn’t take too long to find out. As a chef I learned to do food costs, and price menus; I figured labor percentages, and planned budgets. I actually spent about a year doing light accounting when I was assistant manager at a restaurant.

Even doing tile work, figuring square footage and how much material was needed for a job I utilized more math skills than I ever would have dreamed of as a young punk. I even got to use the Pythagorean Theorem (even though Pythagoras didn’t actually invent it; the Incas and Chinese had been using it for a thousand years before he came along, although I shouldn’t slight the man for that) in order to draw out a perfect right-angle grid for laying a floor.

 So I was surprised last night when I took the math portion of the college entrance exam and thought I was doing pretty well, except for that darn multiplication of a negative. I never had to use that in the real world.
But who knows? Just like 2+2=4, it could come in handy someday.
See?
"If a cat can run up and down a tree in a minute, how many times can a cat and a half run up and down a tree and a half in a minute and a half?"

Addendum~ Apparently I didn't go as well as I thought. The University informed me after grading my exam that before I did any online courses I should go to a local community college and take some math courses..."in person".

“86” Baked Potato

I went out New Years Eve to a nice steakhouse. We went early, like 5:00.
The waiter took our order.
He was sad to say they were out of baked potatoes.
Having been in the foodservice business a number of years I can tell you there is not much that can happen at a steakhouse worse than to have to eighty-six baked potatoes.
No one died, but still...
Total Mission Fail

EARTH DAY~ TOM CLAYTON

Suggested viewing for Earth Day. Tom Wilkinson plays a lawyer defending a chemical company until he discovers what they are covering up. From Tom's dialogue...

Yes! Here we are, all together. Is everyone listening? 'Cause this is the moment you've been waiting for, a very special piece of paper. So let's have a big, paranoid, malignant round of applause… for United Northfield Culcitate Internal Research Memorandum #229!
(Reading from the memo)
"June 19th, 1991. Conclusion: The unanticipated marketing growth for Culcitate by small farms in colder climate demands immediate cost–benefit analysis."
Hah. Would you like a little bit of legal advice? Never let a scientist use the words "unanticipated" and "immediate" in the same sentence. Okay? Okay.
"In-house field studies have indicated small, short-season farms dependent on well water for human consumption are at risk for toxic particulate concentrations at levels significant enough to cause serious human tissue damage."
Well, this is a long way of saying that you don't even have to leave your house to be killed by our product, we'll pipe it into your kitchen sink.
"Culcitate's great market advantage, that it is tasteless, colorless, and does not precipitate, has the potential to mask and intensify these potentially lethal exposures."
Now, I love this. Not only is this a great product, it is a superb cancer delivery system.
"Chemical modifications of the Culcitate product, the addition of a detector molecule such as an odorant or a colorant, would require a top-down redesign of the Culcitate manufacturing process. These costs, while assumed to be significant, were not summarized here."
Which, loosely translated, means: "It's going to cost a fortune to go back on this, and I'm just an asshole in a lab, so could someone else please make the decision?"
"Clearly, the release of these internal research documents would compromise the effective marketing of Culcitate, and must be kept within the protective confines of United Northfield's trade secret language."
You don't need me to tell you what that means. Goodbye!"

Hippity-Hop

I was supposed to meet a couple friends at Starbucks this morning. I seldom go to Starbucks but my cousin gave me a $200 gift card so what the hell. My friends were unable to make it, which left me sitting out front by myself with an Americano grande, three pumps vanilla, one pump whipping cream, and a Splenda. It's really quite good.

As I sat there I noticed several single women as they went inside gave me sideways glances. They were the kind of glances a woman might make when she is making herself aware of her surroundings. One has to be vigilant. I have heard that Starbucks is famous for creepy over-caffeinated guys, hanging out looking to pick up women. And here I was wearing a lavender shirt and hiking boots lurking in front of a Starbucks. That's when I started to feel self-conscious and my mind began to drift.

I had a friend who used to pick up girls at Starbucks. In fact he brought a girl to the blues fest one year. She had double shot triple shot breasts, and her shirt was unbuttoned from both the top and the bottom so that there was really only one button holding her together. As we all danced together I whispered to him
"Where did you find HER?
"Starbucks" he said.

About this time another single woman passed by me, gave me the sideways glance and scurried inside. It was then my mind wandered further and I went into one of my daydreams.
In my vision a long-legged woman climbed out of her BMW. She was wearing a black leather mini skirt and a furry little pink sweater. Black silk stockings. Lots of jewelry. Auburn hair hung down over the sweater, her lipstick must have been named Passion Play, or maybe Flame of Desire, I don't know.
What really caught my eye were her 4 inch heels. They were little pink bunnies, and matched her sweater perfectly. As she wiggled by me she gave me a sideways glance, but it was different from the other women. It was more like one of those Christine Baranski looks, a "cat that ate the canary" look, and she smiled like a knife. If she had opened her mouth I would not be surprised to see a canary fly out.

Mind you, all this took place in my mind in about 1.5 seconds.
I started to laugh but it wasn't funny yet.

Now, here she comes out of the Starbucks and sits down right across from me. "Hello" she says in a dark and dusky voice. "Hello back" says I. She crosses her legs out to the side to further advertise the shapely leg and bunny heels.
"You have some whipped cream on your mustache" she says, and makes a wiping motion with her hand.
I reach up to my face but she stops me.
"No" she whispers "Let me get that for you" and leans across the table and plants a big fat kiss on me.
I shook my head and snapped back to reality. Time to go. Lesson learned. Never go to Starbucks by yourself.
Happy Easter everybody!

Pam Bondi

Surprised to find that we haven’t roasted Miss Bondi till now. She makes Karoline Leavitt look like a sweetheart.

“Whether you’re a former FBI director, whether you’re a former head of an intel community, whether you are a current state or local elected official, whether you’re a billionaire funding organizations to try to keep Donald Trump out of office — everything is on the table. We will investigate you, and we will end the weaponization.”
Pam Bondi

The up-is-down pretzel logic--‘It rained all night the day I left, the weather it was dry”-- was notable but not surprising coming from Bondi — an attorney general who has made very clear that her loyalties lie first and foremost with Trump and his Republican supporters. Not surprising also that so many of her high profile prosecutions never make it past the Grand Jury or were quickly dismissed by judges.

We won’t even get into the Epstein Files.
I’ve hear she used to be a really nice person, and loves dogs. Maybe Trump can find a new spot for her, ripping wings off butterflies or something.

It Wasn't Just Me

I’ve gone almost a year without saying anything about Karoline Leavitt’s mouth. Really, it rude to comment on the physical appearance of a nice soft woman, even if she does bark out some of the most annoying glorifications, confabulations, and falsifications from her spot as Press Secretary. I mean, that’s the job of any press secretary, is it not? Just repeat the same crap over and over, regardless of, and impervious to whatever the facts might be?
But sometimes when she’s doing it, that nasty little mouth just catches my eye; I think to myself “If I was a woman I might want to smack her one right in those pursed lips” but instead I try to feel some compassion and wonder “What the heck is going on with that mouth?”
Well I just finished reading some article from three pro make up artists detailing what is wrong with her nasty little mouth, and her make up in general.
I know its petty, and un-presidential, taking pot shots at someone's appearance and specifically talking about Karoline Leavitts mouth, but somehow I feel vindicated.
Don’t hold it against me ladies.
It wasn’t just me.


Now I hear they are coming out with a new Bratz doll, an homage to Karoline Leavitt.
Accessories to include Official Bratz podium, Pink Boxing gloves, Horned Viking Helmet ( with fur), adjustable basket muzzle, feathercuffs, and lip filler pack.
Voting to name the doll begins…NOW!
1) Miss Fussy Britches
2) Princess Umbrage
3) My Mommy Dearest
4) Other

Me? I think Princess Umbrage is perfect.

~Art Expert Squints at “Bulletholes in Main Frame Computer” ~

Artist ~ MHL

A Kodachrome moment in what could be Everymans living room at 3:03 a.m., between the Infomercial and Home Shopping Network, Facebook and The Real Donald Trump on Truth Social.

The promise of “But wait there’s more!” forever unfulfilled.

The sudden realization that there won’t be more.

This is all there is, this lonely little screen, this is all there ever will be, and between the “low low prices” and “everything gotta go” jingles you are simultaneously compelled and horrified that you might buy a combination battery charger, compressor and pedicure kit that slices and dices, and everything that is not a lie is a conspiracy.

But the time to act is now, the grey voice drones on...

A ungodly hour, certainly,

Another sleepless night.

Viewing this print leads one to wonder:

Has the observer been driven to violence?

Three shots to the screen?

Or is something --aliens or giant ants, Kristi Noem or even Ron Popeil himself-- trying to get out?

Travelers advisory...

 "Please do not rely upon the US government for assisted departure or evacuation at this time"

Stating the obvious

 What I wanna know is which shot killed Ms Good.

The one through the windshield, or one of the two through the driver's side window?

Will we ever find out?

Probably for some people, it won't make a difference. She disobeyed an order. He thought he was in danger.

But the implication is obvious. If the kill shot came through the driver's side window, the officer was probably no longer facing an imminent threat, assuming there ever was one.

Had he not pulled the trigger , they would both be alive.