Can ya’ make any MORE noise?!

My next door neighbor uses these two Mexicans to do his yard every week. Now, there’s no surprise in THAT per se; here’s MY beef with them: Firstly, they have THE loudest lawn mower on EARTH! It’s a Snapper, but it can NOT have a muffler anymore. Secondly, they take forever and two days to actually MOW my neighbor’s yard; shit – I used to mow five fuckin’ ACRES as a kid in less time than these yucks. Add a 2 stroke engine weed whacker and a 2 stroke engine “backpack” blower into the mix…

But WAIT – there’s MORE! As they’re mowing and blowing, they INCESSANTLY blather back and forth to each other in Spanish the ENTIRE time they’re working – they sound like a couple of Mexican auctioneers, f’er fucksake! And of course, since their equipment is so earsplittinloudenboomer loud, they have to yell at 115db.

My neighbor has this huge hedge between our two properties – they spent six hours yesterday, and are going on five hours (so far!) today fiddle-fucking around pruning, trimming, and blowing THAT God-Damned thing; they got here at 7:20AM! Sufferin’ Jesus Christ – the “carbon footprint” they made in the last two days musta raised the temperature 2 degrees worldwide!

The cherry on the sundae is – his yard looks like SHITE! They scalp the crap out of the grass by mowing too much/too close, it’s overwatered and underfertilized; my two guys spend 30 minutes/week on MY yard, and it looks like the 18th green at The Masters. I gotta laugh – when I first moved in, these yucks had been taking care of MY yard – they asked me if I wanted them to continue. I bit all over my tongue telling them – “Ah no; I’ll be using MY guys, thanks.” Three months later, and my guys have pretty much “fixed” the lawn mayhem that these chowderheads have created.

There’s an ass for every seat, Kids!

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There’s nuthin’ wrong with me…

…that an ice pick lobotomy wouldn’t fix, it has suddenly and succinctly occurred to me. The World is one FUCKED UP PLACE, from the smallest micro level right up to the largest macro level – there is NOT a BIG ENOUGH can of “Unfuck” to open that would come CLOSE to fixing it!

Is it any WONDER that Robin Williams took his own life?! I mean – that dude was one NOTICIN’ mutha-fucker; hell, he saw more shit in his SLEEP than 99.9999999 1/2% of the rest of the waking world, am I wrong?

Now I know, there’s plenty of GOOD in the world too; it just seems like all the GOOD words, deeds, and acts are the equivalent of trying to shovel shit against the tide in a tsunami. And thanks to the Interweb, every mongoloid idiot knows JUST how fucked up every OTHER mongoloid idiot on the planet is within 10 minutes after THEY fuck up!

It shouldn’t be any surprise that marijuana is getting so much “traction” ever’where; hell, anyone with a 3 digit I.Q. has gotta take even a cursory look around themselves – no further than say, a 20 foot radius for 20 minutes – and say: “Please allow me to get properly FUCKED UP, and STAY fucked up until it’s time to go to bed.”

And how ’bout all these “studies” that get reported, at least one/day: “This is bad for you, too much of THAT is bad for you; what we THOUGHT was good for you is now actually bad for you, and what we thought was BAD for you is now O.K. – “in moderation”.

Lemme ask you – how many of YOUR friends and loved ones do ANY fuckin’ thing “in moderation”? I’ve met one swingin’ dick my entire life that did everything in moderation – he makes ME wanna go out and get fucked up just to SPITE him!

Now pardon me while I devour an ENTIRE box of Cheese-Its, and couch-lock for the next twelve hours playing video games – has anybody got an ice pick they can loan me?

The “Sssshhh” Pandemic

In my best Andy Rooney voice: “Have ya’ ever noticed…” – O.K; enough Andy Rooney already! Never liked the guy myself; couldn’t get by those whisk broom eyebrows, doncha know – SCARY, in a “Carnie” sorta way…

Back on topic: A coupla years ago my tin ears happened to pick up on a linguistic “trend” that had somehow snuck up on me – once I noticed it, I soon realized that it was EVERYWHERE!

I’m referring of course to the “Ssshhh Pandemic”. WTF is THAT?, I hear you asking. Let’s try this pronunciation exercise all together, shall we? Say the word “Strong”. Good!

Now did you say: https://www.google.com/?gws_rd=ssl#q=strong – or did you say “Ssshhtrong”?

That’s what I was AFRAID of – you’re infected too!

Now switch on your favorite TV or radio talk show, the news, the weather, the crop reports – I GUARANTEE that it won’t take FIVE MINUTES before you hear SOMEbody add an “Ssshhh” to an “St”. And like me, once you NOTICE it, you’re gonna hear it 152 times/day – it’s ubiquitous (not only THAT, but it’s all over the damned place).

One of my neighbors is a speech therapist working with special needs kids – I asked her about it; she hadn’t noticed it ’til *I* said something, but then she reported back to me that virtually ALL the speech therapists are saying it! Shit – what is this – “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”?

Just who SSSHHHTARTED this, and WHEN? My neighbor claims that it’s just “laziness” – she says that for most people, their tongue forms a “ssshhh” sound more easily than a “sssttt” sound – REALLY?! So I guess our 68% obesity rate here in the USA has crept into peoples’ MOUTHS too.

Maybe in some convoluted way this makes sense; after all, the mouth IS “Ground Zero” – the “Point of Entry” for all that fat we’re eating. The fat hits the mouth/tongue, the saliva starts doing its thang – beginning the digestive process and all, and BHAM! – tongue gets a layer of fat!

Next thing ya’ know, you’re trying to say “Hey Stupit, bring me a strumpet to go along with my crumpets”, and it comes out “Hey Ssshhhtupit, bring me a ssshhhtrumpet to go along with my crumpets”; luckily, your pimp will know what you mean…

Now go on your merry way, Boys & Girls – when you’re at the Thanksgiving Day table tomorrow, be sure to ask for an extra helping of apple ssshhhtrudel…

“I tell you what we’re NOT gonna do…”

I’ve got a super-duper Miele vacuum cleaner that’ll suck the eyes out of a parrot, ’cause I AM the Hungarian Houseboy and all.

I had it out in the living room the other day after finishing a hard day’s work cleaning (O.K. – a hard 90 minutes of cleaning) when my doorbell rang; the next door neighbor wanted to borrow a white onion – she was making dinner for her hubbie and her 12 year old son.

I couldn’t help her with the onion, but as she was leaving, she fixed her eyes on my vacuum. I didn’t think too much of it, since it IS a pretty fancy unit, plus it’s bright blue. After a minute of studying on it, she turned to me and said: “Would you mind if I borrowed your vacuum cleaner? Ours is broken, and it’s getting pretty “fluffy” over there, if you know what I mean.” I did, since they have a fine golden retriever – “Be my guest!” I replied…

Two days later, the doorbell rang again – Mrs. Neighbor, with vacuum in tote. After thanking me for the “loan”, I asked her how it went.

“Well, lemme tell ya’ JUST how it went, Dick. I was vacuuming out our son Tommy’s room, when I saw something kinda poking out between his mattress & box spring. I turned the vacuum off, went over to check it out, and pulled out an S&M magazine! It was real hardcore too; specifically, a German bondage magazine! As I flipped through the first few pages, I was SLACK-JAWED at the imagery; Jesus Christ, Tommy is only twelve years old, for goodness sake! I didn’t quite know WHAT to do, so I just slid it back into place about the way it was.

When Ryan (her husband, and Tommy’s dad) got home that night, I quickly took him aside: “Honey, you’ll never believe what I found in young Tommy’s bedroom today when I was vacuuming it out; there, in-between the mattress and boxspring, I found an S&M magazine! Frankly, I was SHOCKED at the content – Geez, he’s only 12 years old! I’m at a loss here honey – I don’t even know where to START – what in the world are we gonna DO?”

He paused for a minute, stroking his chin and scratching his head while he tried to contemplate the entirety of the situation…”Well, I tell you what we’re NOT gonna do – we’re not gonna SPANK him!”

Smart man making a wise decision – I wonder what they did with the magazine… : -))

Early Winter Weather Strikes SoCal!

Woke up this AM after some howling winds last night; I was afraid of what I might see when I opened the curtains…

image001

Weather report says it’s only gonna get up to SIXTY-TWO DEGREES today – aidez moi!  Looks like my Teva flip-flops are OUT; gonna have to break out the closed-toe shoes!  Damn I hate the winter, don’t you?

What’s in a name?

Here he goes again – that old geezer Dick Jones, gonna squawk about something that almost no-BODY cares about any more, if they ever DID!

So, I’m walking through Harbor Fright the other day – this time *I* was the Diamond Dummy for my pal, who needed some woodworking tools. As I idly sashayed down each aisle in my mid-afternoon bucolic haze, I noticed all the manufacturer names for HF’s wares; to wit: “US General”, “Chicago Electric”, “Pittsburgh Automotive”, “Badland Winches”, “Western Safety”, “Bunker Hill Security”, “Smith & Jones”, Pacific Hydrostar”, “Portland”, “Amerityre”, etc.

Now – to the casual observer, and/or to someone who’s not paying attention, where is the “implied” Country of Origin – the US of A, right?

But what’s the REAL Country of Origin on ALL of these items, as if you care? Cheen-wa; t’as right! Now, I’m not assigning anything derisive here (O.K., maybe I AM), but I wonder what Harbor Fright’s annual sales would be like if they changed all these names to, say – the ACTUAL names of the factories that are churning out this stuff, or the actual cities in China where these products originate – as in: “Truth In Advertising”. Say “Shenzhen Company”, “Guangzhou Inc.”, “Kunshan Co.”.

Just callin’ ’em like I see ’em, Kids…

Did I REALLY hear her say THAT?!

So – my good buddy and I drove up to El Lay yesterday to take care of some bidness – he graciously rode along with me as my “Diamond Dummy” – a vaguely derisive moniker applied to someone who rides with you on your respective mission so that you can use the diamond (carpool) lanes for your journey.

The customary “payment” for this favor – and believe ME, it IS a tremendous favor, at least out here in Kalifornia – is that you buy your DD any & all meals during your trek. What you get in return is a 90 minute/leg time, versus an (up to) 3-4 HOUR/leg time; well worth the price of a meal or two!

We take care of bidness (Craigslist buy), and since we’re in Santa Monica, we set out on foot for some victuals; we settle on a tiny little pizza parlor – two tables inside, two tables outside. We sit outside and place two orders for the “Lunch Special” – a personal pizza and a drink for $5.99.

Now – when I say this place it tiny, I MEAN tiny; the entire business, inside and out, would fit in my living room! It is clearly a family business too – as I inquire as to where the restroom(s) is/are, I’m directed “to the back” – I walk past the cash register and into the kitchen – Dad & Son are working the cooktop/ovens, Daughter-In-Law is working the cash register/waitressing, and Grandson is sitting at one of the two inside tables working his Gameboy.

The kitchen and the restroom are IMMACULATE – good sign! I take care of the vein-draining, then join my compadre back outside, where we do the requisite “Kalifornia Weirdo Watch” while we’re waiting for our order. 25 minutes later, out come two “personal pizzas” – each the size of a trash can lid, fairly HEAPED with toppings – $5.99!! Did we get in The Wayback Machine?

Our waitress/cashier, a mid-30’s Armenian lass, is one of those “low talkers” – I have to strain to hear her speak in her demure voice. We set in on the two pizzas like the jackals that we are – OUTSTANDING!

After we’re done, I go in to pay – as she makes change, I say – “Those pizzas were OUTSTANDING!” I lean forward and stoop slightly to hear her response: “Thanks – you should try the sandwiches next time – they are really FUCKIN’ good too…”

Did I just hear this 5 foot tall, mid-30’s, shy, prim, proper wife/mother/daughter-in-law of the owner say “FUCKIN’ good”?! Whaaa???? Yeah, I did; in THE most matter-of-fact, unemotional delivery. “Uh – can we rewind tape and hear that again? I’m not sure I heard that?” I say to myself…

Which leads me to my Thought Du Jour; to wit: When a person that you know who almost NEVER swears, or a person that you meet who gives the appearance of NEVER EVER swearing, DOES SO – what a dramatic effect, that makes MAXIMUM use out of the cuss word!

*I*, on the other hand, pretty much use “the f-word” in just about every sentence out of my foul mouth; hey, I’m from Jersey, O.K.? Son of a pair of alcoholic “potty-mouths” – I was pretty much fuckin’ DOOMED from the day I popped out the hole, when Mom said – “Fuck, did THAT hurt! Now where’s my fuckin’ cocktail for my troubles, Doc?”

On through Kindergarten, where I got my mouth washed out with soap – now THAT was an incident! (See results below.)

Sooo…the next time you hear a swear word out of someone that you would NEVER expect, please extend a “tip of the hat” to him/her – they’re doing it Fuckin’-A Right!

TheKindergartenIncident