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Showing posts from December, 2011

Parking -- What Gives!

So when Parking with that significant other. Look for these obvious signs of Parking What Gives disease. Or PWG.
Three signs from hell and it isn't just an annoyance-- it's real. Real as the stripes in the lot.
Ok, what gives, four signs...spouse always says,

"Who cares we always get there on time."

As manacled hands twirls the wheel in the sweet little hands and pushes the accelerator with one 'lead' but highly polished foot. With a neck busting jolt only, 'Cole Trickle' could love.


This is my "co-pilot pain."
 Looks, into the rear view mirror to see if there are any parking spaces? huh? Yeah huh, double huh?Gazes, into the side mirror to see if she can park in that space? Yes, this does not make sense. But PWG people don't know it. And it's not their fault, at all. Their Mother's dropped them on their parking asses too many times.Thinks, if she goes 60 mph, screaming past old women and babies, that the parking lot will beco…

Modern Marvels Sleep Edition

Today's busy go-go world has produced a guilty pleasure. Falling asleep to the magnificent utterances of the Modern Marvels-- voice over dude. This guy could make paint dry by his very low 20 hertz string of vowels.
The Mod Marv guy, we call him that, has nothing on the Frontline narration chap. Or the great,
 "In a world, in a place...one hero." Voice over movie maestro, who died not too many orbits ago.


No this, Modern Marvel voice should and could have his own comic book series.
Sleep and the Satanist.Could be the first nap blanket edition.
     Where hell, is not a place of painful torture but a series of interrupted great nodding offs, only to be awoken by that-- Sham-Wow guy, who I know died too.

Boy, don't hit your head while flying? Watch out Sham-Wow new guy.

    This sleep and wake interruption cycle, is a great and wonderful place to be. A nod off and a what the hell? Back to a wonderful nod of and then,



"Man that TV is so loud." Back to the slee…

Chapter Deep Sink

When I begin writing today.
I write, with a little joy in my heart because my spouse is not a great sink stacker!

     My friendly spouse was born daughter of a black pitch and tar roofer. Expurgated from her mother in the dead of winter just one day shy of Elvis' birthday. But having all of that pedigree behind her.  Still lacks the understanding that the ' Deep Sink ' we put in our lovely Texas home is not a Nuclear Ebola Storage Facility.

     If a ' NESF ' was in use today. It would most assuredly, be regulated by the EPA.

The Islamo-Techno Terrorists or ' ITT, ' BTW, not be confused with the most outstanding educational institution this side of the 2008 financial collapse, would love to get their grimy little hands on my wonderful spouse.

And Ala, 'Tony Stark' makes the outstanding school teacher, stack pots and pans in a make shift deep sink, deep in some  dark and dank cave this side of Kabul. Of course, located in some 'STAN' count…