Thought you might enjoy a front row center invitation............Michael the ImperfectNerd
http://callingallblondes.blogspot.com/
February 24, 2008
the trucker and the blonde
One day, while a blonde is out driving, she runs into a truck.
The truck driver makes her pull over and get out of the car.
He takes a piece of chalk and traces a circle on the pavement.
"Stand in that circle and don't move a muscle!" he growls.
Then, completely furious, he pulls a knife and slashes her tires!
The blonde sees this act of violence and starts laughing!
This makes the man really see red, so next he takes a tire iron and smashes her windshield. But the screwy blonde? she laughs even harder!
Now the trucker goes crazy! He breaks all her windows, and sets fire to the car!
But by now the blonde is laughing hysterically, out of control.
The truck driver cannot believe this woman. "What's so funny?!!" he demands.
The blonde giggles."While you weren't looking, I stepped out of the circle... three times!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The truck driver makes her pull over and get out of the car.
He takes a piece of chalk and traces a circle on the pavement.
"Stand in that circle and don't move a muscle!" he growls.
Then, completely furious, he pulls a knife and slashes her tires!
The blonde sees this act of violence and starts laughing!
This makes the man really see red, so next he takes a tire iron and smashes her windshield. But the screwy blonde? she laughs even harder!
Now the trucker goes crazy! He breaks all her windows, and sets fire to the car!
But by now the blonde is laughing hysterically, out of control.
The truck driver cannot believe this woman. "What's so funny?!!" he demands.
The blonde giggles."While you weren't looking, I stepped out of the circle... three times!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
February 22, 2008
"Just tell it like it is..."
This is based on an actual job application that a 75 year old senior citizen submitted to Walmart:
NAME:.............. Kenneth Way (Grumpy Old Bastard)
SEX:................. Not lately, but I'm looking.
DESIRED POSITION: President or Vice President. (Seriously, whatever's available. If I was in any position to be picky, I wouldn't be applying here in the first place!)
DESIRED SALARY: $185,000 a year. But make an offer... we can haggle.
LAST POSITION HELD: Prime Target for middle management hostility.
PREVIOUS SALARY: A lot less than I'm worth.
MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT: My incredible collection of stolen pens.
REASON FOR LEAVING: Was advised of more suitable opportunities elsewhere.
HOURS AVAILABLE : Anytime I'm not playing polo.
PREFERRED HOURS: 1:30-3:30 p.m on alternate Tuesdays.
DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?: Yes, but they're better suited to a more intimate environment.
MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: If I had one, would I be here?
DO YOU HAVE ANY LIMITATIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP TO 50 lbs: Fifty pounds of what?
DO YOU HAVE A CAR?: I think the more appropriate question here would be "Do you have a car that runs?"
ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION?: I may already be a winner of the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes, so they tell me.
WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN FIVE YEARS?: Living in the Bahamas with a fabulously wealthy, dumb sexy blonde supermodel, who thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread. (Actually, I'd like to be doing that now.)
NEAREST RELATIVE:............... 7 miles down route 317.
DO YOU CERTIFY THAT THE ABOVE IS TRUE AND COMPLETE: Oh yes, absolutely. In fact, ask anybody...I'm certifiable as they get!
NAME:.............. Kenneth Way (Grumpy Old Bastard)
SEX:................. Not lately, but I'm looking.
DESIRED POSITION: President or Vice President. (Seriously, whatever's available. If I was in any position to be picky, I wouldn't be applying here in the first place!)
DESIRED SALARY: $185,000 a year. But make an offer... we can haggle.
LAST POSITION HELD: Prime Target for middle management hostility.
PREVIOUS SALARY: A lot less than I'm worth.
MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT: My incredible collection of stolen pens.
REASON FOR LEAVING: Was advised of more suitable opportunities elsewhere.
HOURS AVAILABLE : Anytime I'm not playing polo.
PREFERRED HOURS: 1:30-3:30 p.m on alternate Tuesdays.
DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?: Yes, but they're better suited to a more intimate environment.
MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?: If I had one, would I be here?
DO YOU HAVE ANY LIMITATIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP TO 50 lbs: Fifty pounds of what?
DO YOU HAVE A CAR?: I think the more appropriate question here would be "Do you have a car that runs?"
ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION?: I may already be a winner of the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes, so they tell me.
WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN FIVE YEARS?: Living in the Bahamas with a fabulously wealthy, dumb sexy blonde supermodel, who thinks I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread. (Actually, I'd like to be doing that now.)
NEAREST RELATIVE:............... 7 miles down route 317.
DO YOU CERTIFY THAT THE ABOVE IS TRUE AND COMPLETE: Oh yes, absolutely. In fact, ask anybody...I'm certifiable as they get!
February 19, 2008
"One Little Wave"
As the story goes, President Bush decides to invite the Pope to visit Washington and make an address to a Joint Session of Congress. Everybody who is anybody is there. Senators, Congressmen, Supreme Court, all the wise rulers of our great Country, gathered in one great assembly. This is quite unprecendented, and is televised around the world.
Mr. Bush hasn't been doing too awful well in the polls for awhile, but this is his chance to shine, so he gets an idea. He takes His Holiness aside for a moment. "Popie," he says genially, "this is quite a shindig, ain't it?" The old Vicar merely smiles and nods politely, but George W. goes on.
"Ya know," he says, "you're a real big cheese over there at the Vatican. I seen a hunnerd thousand people come out just to see ya wavin' from that balcony thing. Must give ya thrills an' chills when they do that stuff, right?" Again His Holiness agrees. "Yes," he replies, "it is most gratifying, but one must be humble about these things. I merely represent the Church and all its tradition. It has little to do with me. I would think that with you this must also hold true."
The President guffaws. "Oh, come on, now. You don't think when people cheer me it's because they love their Gov'mint, do ya? They love me! Well, not all of 'em, we got a democracy. Half the people hate ya and the other half don't. Watch this!"
With that, the President steps out on the stage and the applause begins. The Democrats are on one side, Republicans on the other, politely clapping. The President looks back over his shoulder at the Pope. "Now watch!" he says, and waves one hand over his head as a signal. Suddenly the Republican side of the hall springs to life, whoopin' and hollerin' and carryin' on like the roof is gonna come down. The President grins at the Pope as the riot settles down. "And all with just a wave of my hand!" he brags. "Half the place goes nuts!"
His Holiness the Pope, not wanting to condone this openly blatant behavior, considers the proper reply. "Mr. President," he says quietly, "that was, indeed, very impressive. You have great command. But did you know, just one wave of my hand will make EVERY person in this crowd ecstatic with joy? And this joy will not be some momentary passing display, as we heard earlier, but will go deep in their hearts, and all the people of the world will be witness, and on through all time, they will remember this day and rejoice."
The President snorts in doubt. "One little wave of your hand. And all the people, rejoicing forever. Now that trick I gotta see!"
And so the Pope slugs him.
Mr. Bush hasn't been doing too awful well in the polls for awhile, but this is his chance to shine, so he gets an idea. He takes His Holiness aside for a moment. "Popie," he says genially, "this is quite a shindig, ain't it?" The old Vicar merely smiles and nods politely, but George W. goes on.
"Ya know," he says, "you're a real big cheese over there at the Vatican. I seen a hunnerd thousand people come out just to see ya wavin' from that balcony thing. Must give ya thrills an' chills when they do that stuff, right?" Again His Holiness agrees. "Yes," he replies, "it is most gratifying, but one must be humble about these things. I merely represent the Church and all its tradition. It has little to do with me. I would think that with you this must also hold true."
The President guffaws. "Oh, come on, now. You don't think when people cheer me it's because they love their Gov'mint, do ya? They love me! Well, not all of 'em, we got a democracy. Half the people hate ya and the other half don't. Watch this!"
With that, the President steps out on the stage and the applause begins. The Democrats are on one side, Republicans on the other, politely clapping. The President looks back over his shoulder at the Pope. "Now watch!" he says, and waves one hand over his head as a signal. Suddenly the Republican side of the hall springs to life, whoopin' and hollerin' and carryin' on like the roof is gonna come down. The President grins at the Pope as the riot settles down. "And all with just a wave of my hand!" he brags. "Half the place goes nuts!"
His Holiness the Pope, not wanting to condone this openly blatant behavior, considers the proper reply. "Mr. President," he says quietly, "that was, indeed, very impressive. You have great command. But did you know, just one wave of my hand will make EVERY person in this crowd ecstatic with joy? And this joy will not be some momentary passing display, as we heard earlier, but will go deep in their hearts, and all the people of the world will be witness, and on through all time, they will remember this day and rejoice."
The President snorts in doubt. "One little wave of your hand. And all the people, rejoicing forever. Now that trick I gotta see!"
And so the Pope slugs him.
February 18, 2008
" Damn Tree Drubs"
On obtain a dime, dare is tree drubs. Day as cold Hairly, Schmoe hand Cruelly. Damn is mighty fuel is fallows. Damn is sew fuel is, damn knot no rite firm rung, upped firm downed, rite firm left. Damn is tree bumps. Damn is sew dumped, damn sink dare whirled maid flapped, buy Got.
"Dew knot sale vest!" claimed Schmoe. "Yew dye den surly as yew lift!"
Butt guise vent vest, hand found anew whirled, hand Schmoe hee haddock ate dose whirreds.
"Haul a lye!" dot Hairly spewed, "day jest vent tout dew day hedge, hand claim rite black!"
(Hairly vast know bloody's fuel) "...hand den, day tolled as tails!"
Butt Cruelly spat hand taught. Hand taught. Hand taught against. Heebie sunken may bee trued. May bee sum ding how dare have dare haul. May bee sum ding press us day cud fined, brung hem black hand day bee which. Which as haul get out. Which as prances. Which as Billy Goats. Which as chock-a-block cake. Hymn begot dew maid sum plants.
Cruelly gut sum udder guise hand bilked a bowed. Ha big big bowed. Ha bowed sew big hit cussed ha jillion bucks, drub money, whist kite ha lump pa change. Hee know cared ha butt tatt. Hymn new, hit gun apply off, late her on. (Err sew hee taught.)
Song starry shirt, damn tree drubs sat oof dew leak dare porch on, dare hips hide, dare ice wide.....
....hand felt oft dare wedge oft dare whirled.
(Morale oft dare tail hissed: after haul has sate hand dumb, ha drub's ha drub ha drub.)
"Dew knot sale vest!" claimed Schmoe. "Yew dye den surly as yew lift!"
Butt guise vent vest, hand found anew whirled, hand Schmoe hee haddock ate dose whirreds.
"Haul a lye!" dot Hairly spewed, "day jest vent tout dew day hedge, hand claim rite black!"
(Hairly vast know bloody's fuel) "...hand den, day tolled as tails!"
Butt Cruelly spat hand taught. Hand taught. Hand taught against. Heebie sunken may bee trued. May bee sum ding how dare have dare haul. May bee sum ding press us day cud fined, brung hem black hand day bee which. Which as haul get out. Which as prances. Which as Billy Goats. Which as chock-a-block cake. Hymn begot dew maid sum plants.
Cruelly gut sum udder guise hand bilked a bowed. Ha big big bowed. Ha bowed sew big hit cussed ha jillion bucks, drub money, whist kite ha lump pa change. Hee know cared ha butt tatt. Hymn new, hit gun apply off, late her on. (Err sew hee taught.)
Song starry shirt, damn tree drubs sat oof dew leak dare porch on, dare hips hide, dare ice wide.....
....hand felt oft dare wedge oft dare whirled.
(Morale oft dare tail hissed: after haul has sate hand dumb, ha drub's ha drub ha drub.)
February 16, 2008
Remembering NIU
Yesterday, I finally heard about the tragedy that struck at Northern Illinois university on Thursday. I felt a twinge of sadness as I listened to the news, as I remember well my visits there as a teen.
The North Central Association of Schools for the blind had its regional track meets at NIU each year. I don't know if it was because there was more room or what. I do know that it was an interesting time had by all, as we spent time with some of the college students. By the time I was going to the meets, the teams were not staying on campus in the sororities or fraternities. But, I remember some of the girls who had gone in past years talking about the experience of sleeping over there and spending time with the college girls. To me, that was a taste of the real world for them, which I think would have been good for some in my class to maybe think about continuing on in their studies.
I'm not sure whether it was Wisconsin that provided the guide wires for the blind students to run around the track there. But, I think it was. (Actually, we didn't run around the track with the wires. We ran the seventy-five yard dash, the 600 meeter and the 1200 meeter using those wires, and when we did run around the track, we ran with a partially sighted student leading us as we held on to their elbow.)
I remember thinking how secure I felt whenever we were on NIU's campus, and how insecure I felt in the hotel my second year on the track team. I remember meeting two students from the Philippines who toured us around the campus. I remember it being so cold that particular meet on Friday, we all would go to the bus to stay warm after we had run. In addition to running, I was our team's long jumper, and I did it barefoot. I remember that was the meet where I froze my toes off. I also did the three consecutive long jump and the hop step jump, (the latter of which I hated).
I remember thinking that a college anywhere was a great place to be, and I remember feeling sad as I listened yesterday, knowing that some students lives were snuffed out, before they could even continue. My prayers are with those families.
The North Central Association of Schools for the blind had its regional track meets at NIU each year. I don't know if it was because there was more room or what. I do know that it was an interesting time had by all, as we spent time with some of the college students. By the time I was going to the meets, the teams were not staying on campus in the sororities or fraternities. But, I remember some of the girls who had gone in past years talking about the experience of sleeping over there and spending time with the college girls. To me, that was a taste of the real world for them, which I think would have been good for some in my class to maybe think about continuing on in their studies.
I'm not sure whether it was Wisconsin that provided the guide wires for the blind students to run around the track there. But, I think it was. (Actually, we didn't run around the track with the wires. We ran the seventy-five yard dash, the 600 meeter and the 1200 meeter using those wires, and when we did run around the track, we ran with a partially sighted student leading us as we held on to their elbow.)
I remember thinking how secure I felt whenever we were on NIU's campus, and how insecure I felt in the hotel my second year on the track team. I remember meeting two students from the Philippines who toured us around the campus. I remember it being so cold that particular meet on Friday, we all would go to the bus to stay warm after we had run. In addition to running, I was our team's long jumper, and I did it barefoot. I remember that was the meet where I froze my toes off. I also did the three consecutive long jump and the hop step jump, (the latter of which I hated).
I remember thinking that a college anywhere was a great place to be, and I remember feeling sad as I listened yesterday, knowing that some students lives were snuffed out, before they could even continue. My prayers are with those families.
February 14, 2008
"The Prom"
How Geraldine and Ricky Become the King and Queen of Russia
1967..................
1967..................
Kiki holds a mirror in front of Geraldine, turning it from side to side, so that Geraldine can see the tiara twinkling, sparkling in the stage lights: fireflies caught in her own hair, caught in a net of crown...
Music swells: "Dr. Zhivago". The kids cheer, and Ricky, with his crown askew, holds her hand so tight the tips of her fingers turn white. Ricky smiles and smiles and smiles. Kids waltz all around them, turning, twirling. Fireflies dance across the floor, turn into stars, and swim across the ceiling. Geraldine touches the red rose and the velvet trim on her dress with the tip of a finger, again and again, first one and then the other, grinning. The petals embrace. They hug and hold each other like her Babushka dolls... like she would like to hug and hold Ricky: close, and tight. The rose is candy... chocolate,maybe... rich and sweet. The rose is the purse of Ricky's lips, so close to her ear, whispering.
Ricky rises from his rhinestone throne and tugs on Geraldine's hand. He steps from the small stage to the gym floor and helps her down. Almost shy in a circle of friends, they turn to each other, and stare. Ricky moves against her; Geraldine moves against him. They sway to the music together. Dancing isn't hard, it's easy... it feels like water... like a warm river... like honey... like heartbeats... like breathing... like Magic.
Geraldine lays her head on Ricky's shoulder, basks in the circle of his arms. Geraldine breathes Ricky and the smell of Ricky. Everywhere their bodies touch she feels a burning. Their skin flickers like fire. Now they are thunder and lighting. Now they are melted butter in a patch of sunlight.
As they dance between the cafetorium curtains, the paper Kremlin trembles and a tree comes loose, but no one notices. Geraldine remembers a heron gobbling a frog, then forgets again as they kiss. In a pile of backdrops, they taste the salt sea and ocean breezes. As they dance yet closer, and closer still, she sings a quiet little song.
(An excerpt from a new work by Mary Stebbins Taitt)
Music swells: "Dr. Zhivago". The kids cheer, and Ricky, with his crown askew, holds her hand so tight the tips of her fingers turn white. Ricky smiles and smiles and smiles. Kids waltz all around them, turning, twirling. Fireflies dance across the floor, turn into stars, and swim across the ceiling. Geraldine touches the red rose and the velvet trim on her dress with the tip of a finger, again and again, first one and then the other, grinning. The petals embrace. They hug and hold each other like her Babushka dolls... like she would like to hug and hold Ricky: close, and tight. The rose is candy... chocolate,maybe... rich and sweet. The rose is the purse of Ricky's lips, so close to her ear, whispering.
Ricky rises from his rhinestone throne and tugs on Geraldine's hand. He steps from the small stage to the gym floor and helps her down. Almost shy in a circle of friends, they turn to each other, and stare. Ricky moves against her; Geraldine moves against him. They sway to the music together. Dancing isn't hard, it's easy... it feels like water... like a warm river... like honey... like heartbeats... like breathing... like Magic.
Geraldine lays her head on Ricky's shoulder, basks in the circle of his arms. Geraldine breathes Ricky and the smell of Ricky. Everywhere their bodies touch she feels a burning. Their skin flickers like fire. Now they are thunder and lighting. Now they are melted butter in a patch of sunlight.
As they dance between the cafetorium curtains, the paper Kremlin trembles and a tree comes loose, but no one notices. Geraldine remembers a heron gobbling a frog, then forgets again as they kiss. In a pile of backdrops, they taste the salt sea and ocean breezes. As they dance yet closer, and closer still, she sings a quiet little song.
(An excerpt from a new work by Mary Stebbins Taitt)
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