Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Till We Meet Again

You may have noticed-maybe not (in that case, good for you!)-that I haven't posted or commented on anything since Veterans Day.  

The reason is that life has gotten way complicated.  A lot of the complications have been self-inflicted, to be sure.  In essence, like Congress, I've made a mess of everything.

With that in mind, I'm going to go away for awhile.  I'll be back, but I don't know when.  Probably not until after the first of the year.  I just can't bring myself to write anything humorous (or whatever it is you call this crap) while my head is in as big a mess as American foreign policy.

For what it's worth (and that ain't much): I haven't been a nice person lately.

Another effect is that work on my book will come to a screeching halt, at least temporarily.  I'll get back to that, too, but not until I can look at things with the same bit of insanity I once had.

I'm dropping away from Facebook for a bit, as well.  I'll probably still "tweet," though (although probably not as much as Trump...I mean, who can?), because that piece of social media isn't nearly as social.  Relationships aren't as consistent as on here or Mr. Zuckerberg's baby.

Look on the bright side.  We were starting to roll right into the "Holiday Repost Season."  So, you'll spare yourselves that. 

Until next time, my friends.

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Happy Veterans Day!



When all is said and done, I must say that the most important thing that I've done in my life is raising two wonderful children.

The second?  Serving aboard this aircraft carrier from May 1977-July 1980.

Oh, sure, many more experiences, dare I say it, "adventures," would follow.

But, as the saying goes, you never forget your first*.


*I don't think they were talking about ships, but you get the point.

Sunday, November 5, 2017

There's No Accounting For Taste-Epilogue

If you want to see (or are bored.  Or both) what started this whole Candy Corn rant, click here.  Or not.  I get paid the same.

"He still thinks he gets paid!"


Good Lord.

It's the beginning of the Candy Apocalypse



Robyn:  Even worse.  It's Hershey's.

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Ghosties and Ghoulies Who Extort in the Night


NOTE:  As threatened, the following is a repeat.  But, it’s a repeat from 2014 so that’s something from like three years ago (I have mad math skills, yo).  Do any of you remember where you were three years ago?  Hell, Trump was still just a rich orange guy on TV back then (wasn’t he?  I didn’t watch much TV).  Anyway, as I said then and will say again: if they can play “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” every year, I can foist reruns upon an unsuspecting public every now and then.  Mostly now. 
Remember: if you haven’t read it, it’s new to you.
I haven’t changed all that much, because some things are still timely (e.g., Rosie in a thong) and I’ll put in new pictures.  So, it’s like new anyway.  Think Chevy Cavalier with a new paint job.

 
"You know, we've been doing this Great Pumpkin thing since 1966. 
Maybe we should change the title to
It's Time For a Colonoscopy, Charlie Brown
A little hair on the nut sack would be nice, too."
       
    Halloween.  What a hoot.

    Yes, I know, I know...it’s a day allegedly drenched in satanic roots and all manner of horrifying images meant to instill terror in mortals:  ghosts, goblins, witches, Anthony Weiner, Rosie O’Donnell in a thong, blah, blah, blah.

   
    Rather than surrender to the Dark Lord (who could be Steve Bannon, for all I know), the politically correct observe the holiday via nonsensical “Fall Parades”, “Harvest Festivals”, or “Insert-Festive-Name-Here” celebrations.

   
    Hand-wringing ninnies also prefer that children not dress up as
Or, the Richard Simmons
in Provincetown.
traditionally spooky characters.  Instead, they dress their tykes as non-threatening characters such as “Insurance Salesman”, “Foot Doctor”, or “Blue Man Group.”

   
    Oh, c’mon!  I took my kids to a Halloween celebration a few years ago (NOTE:  yeah, this post is that old) and not once did I feel the icy grip of Lucifer on pillowcases chock full of Snickers and Jolly Ranchers.  After all, I find it very hard to believe that the Devil resides in clowns, ballerinas, or SpongeBob Squarepants.

   
    The extortion element of Trick-Or-Treating aside, it’s just a fun day for kids to dress up and happily pander from door to door.  I’m not going to begrudge them a chance to have fun just because some simpering idiots think the day glorifies evil or offends the politically-correct sensitivities of the chronically butthurt.
   
    Halloween was a big deal when we were kids.  I remember
Parents who were too slow to buy their kids
good costumes wound up giving them
the sucky Green Hornet one.
planning what we were going to wear soon after school started in the Fall.  I even remember the costumes I wore:  Superman, Green Hornet, Spiderman (yes, even then), Hulk, Frankenstein, Mummy, “Glow-In-The-Dark Skeleton”, Underdog, “Criminally Insane Druggist,” and (the one that really never caught on) “Dr. Scholl’s Foot Pad Monster.”


   
"Costume?"
   
    Unlike nowadays, we were never bird-dogged by our parents as we ran like scatterbrains through our neighborhoods, feasting on insane amounts of chocolate.

   
   
And never, EVER go to Mr. Mraz's house.
We knew the unwritten Halloween code: only go to houses with their lights on, be on the lookout for razor blades in the Milky Ways, don’t bother going to the convent (they only passed out mothball-flavored Butter Rum LifeSavers), and take only one piece of candy from the bowl of those too lazy to hand them out themselves (yeah, RIGHT, always followed THAT rule!). 

   
    Oh, and fling eggs at the houses of those who dared hand out:  apples, popcorn balls, candy corn, pennies, toothbrushes, ketchup packets, and pouches of Equal.

   
    My friends and I couldn’t get enough of a great deal.  So, from six o’clock (or dark-it HAD to be dark) until nine, we knocked on doors in the hope we’d score so much sugar that our arms would go numb from lugging around our sacks (Of CANDY!  Keep it clean, people!).

   
 
Our favorite was Christopher:
Patron Saint of the Most Holy Glazed.
 
A bonus was that, since we went to Catholic School, we could sleep in the next day, All Saints Day.  To those “in the club” (so to speak), November 1st is a “Holy Day of Obligation” and so, was a day off from school (a point rendered moot if it fell on the weekend.  In that case, we groused that we were ripped off by Jesus).

   
    This meant we could shove candy down our throats when we got home until we passed out, woke up, ate some Sugar Smacks, inhaled more Three Musketeers, watched cartoons, and made fun of the public school kids as they trudged off to class.

   
NOTE:  This was the best part of having the day off because the public school kids were beating us up the rest of the year.   Even the girls.


Eventually, though, we had to leave the house.

    My point is, what’s so wrong with a holiday that gives children a chance to play dress up, carve pumpkins, and gorge themselves on goodies doomed to eventually become petrified lumps of sugar on top of the refrigerator?


    Nothing.


    You know why?


    Because, Satan doesn’t like Peanut M&Ms.


"Hey, I have wicked peanut allergies.  Get off my ass."

Sunday, October 29, 2017

There's No Accounting For Taste

    Since I had planned to do a little writing on my book (it's been a tough slog and I have only a
"PFFT, as if! 
HBO make any of your stupid books into a mini-series? 
Didn't think so. 
Move along, Penwasser."
vague idea when it will get done...I guess I'm like George R.R. Martin that way!), today was probably going to be a "repost" day. 

    This is usual for me this time of year.  Those of you who are unfortunate enough to have been my followers since the first year of the Obama Administration know that reruns at Penwasser Place are as common in the last few months of the year as doughnuts in the New Jersey Governor's mansion.
   
"Huh?"

    But, after reading today's paper while suffering from the procrastination which has delayed St. Stan's: Tales of the Penguin Academy into next year, I felt compelled to write something new.
   
    Don't worry, you'll still get warmed-over hash Tuesday night for Halloween.  And Veterans Day.  And Thanksgiving.  And Christmas (whole lotta those).  And New Years.
   
    Oh, I'll sprinkle in a few new posts here and there.  Gotta do
"He thinks he gets paid!"
those so I can pay the bills.

   
    What prompted me to compose something new was not a threatened nuclear war with North Korea, a national opioid crisis, the quagmire in the Middle East, or the hurricane disaster in Puerto Rico.
   
Wrong Quagmire.
Giggedy-giggedy.
    No, I was inspired by the article about what Halloween candy Americans favor.  If you follow me on Facebook (you poor bastards lucky people), I'm sure you saw my take on the matter.  As is my wont, I went off on a long tangent of comments there in which I essentially talked to myself.  I think I may have a problem. 
"You've no idea."
 

    After reading this, I decided a blog post may be in order for those who luckily don't follow me on Facebook.  And, if you do suffer from enjoy my antics there, this may give you added information.


NOTE:  For those of you from the Detroit School System,
Alaska and Hawaii aren't actually located where Mexico should be. 
You're welcome.
    The above map shows which states favor which candy. 

    I know, I know, why didn't you take a picture of the entire map, Al?  Well, I snapped a quick picture of it and, since I no longer have the newspaper (I gave it to Mrs. Penwasser...who now lives a few miles away...I'm a nice guy that way...if any of you didn't know we no longer live together, my apologies...I really oughta get that newsletter out).


Take six and hurl.
    Anyway, while I expected to see a lot of chocolate, Skittles, Starburst, and Jolly Ranchers, you know, good candy, I was shocked that six states, SIX!, favor Candy Corn.  Now, if I had the choice between eating those gastronomic poison pills, a dog turd, or anything I cooked, I'd be following Fido with a spoon and napkin.

    That half a dozen states prefer these things is astounding to me.  I can think of no quicker way to have toilet paper hanging from your trees than to toss a bag of that confectionary vomit into a Trick-Or-Treat bag.
   
    Except in places like Idaho, I suppose.  Where, if you play your cards right, you may also get a Caramel-Coated Potato.


"There's not an 'e' in potato?"

"You can get caramel potatoes?"
   
    Rather than put children ("THINK OF THE CHILDREN!")
"It's Nature's Candy!"
NOTE:  This line is a rerun of a repost. 
See?  I snuck one in.
through the horror of Candy Corn, I'd just as soon not answer my door.  Hell, I'd even hand out ketchup packets.


  







As far as that Candy Corn mess is concerned?
Well, I have the perfect solution:


Works for me.
 

Friday, October 20, 2017

Captain Caption CL

"Hmm, that may be just the thing to cover my receding hairline. 
I wonder if the carnival is in town so I can grab me one....?"

Friday, October 13, 2017

Captain Caption CXLXIX

"Okay, Harv, you can take your thumb out of my ass now."