Monday, October 29, 2012

Ghosties and Ghoulies Who Extort in the Night

NOTE:  The following is a repeat from last year.  Which is a repeat from the year before that.  What can I say?  The holidays bring out the sentimental ole softie in me.  Okay, and the lazy ole slackass.  Incidentally, you can expect the same for Veterans Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years.  Don’t worry, though, I’ll have something new prepared for National Kazoo Day, January 28th (which, when you come right down to it, isn’t it sad that I know that?). 
I’ve put in new pictures, though.  Mostly because I don’t know how to copy the old ones from last year.  So you have that going for you. 
Besides, if you haven’t read it, it’s new to you.

"Oh, yeah?  Well, who the hell do you think you are criticizing Al Penwasser for posting a repeat!?  Good grief, we've been doing this since 1966!  And I don't even have boobs yet!!"

    Halloween.  What a hoot.

Talk about goblin.
   I know, I’s a day allegedly drenched in satanic trappings and all manner of horrifying images:  ghosts, goblins, witches, Anthony Weiner, Naked Madonna, blah, blah, blah.

    Rather than surrender to the Dark Lord (who could be Dick Cheney, 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 traditionally spooky characters.  Instead, they dress their tykes as non-threatening characters such as “Insurance Salesman”, “Foot Doctor,” “Dr. Phil,” or “Blue Man Group.”

Spawns of Satan
Especially the chicken
    Oh, c’mon!  I took my kids to a Halloween celebration a few years ago (okay, many years ago.  Remember: repost) and not once did I detect 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.

"Oh, yeah?  Well, at least I didn't molest any interns.
Coulda used a comb, though."
    Halloween was a big deal when we were kids.  I remember planning what we were going to wear soon after school started in the Fall.  I even remember the costumes:  Superman, Green Hornet, Spiderman (yes, even then), Hulk, Frankenstein, Mummy, “Glow-In-The-Dark Skeleton”, Millard Fillmore, Underdog, and (the one that really never caught on) “Dr. Scholl’s Foot Pad Monster.”
Came in handy when all the "non-sucky" costumes were gone.
Still not as hideous as that Seth Rogan movie, though.

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

    We knew the unwritten Halloween code: only go to houses with their lights on, lookout for razor blades in the Milky Ways, don’t bother going to the convent (because mothball-flavored Butter Rum LifeSavers suck), 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!). 

"Next time?
You may want to to keep those
popcorn balls to yourself, chief."

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

There's such a thing as
having too many Snickers
    My friends and I couldn’t get enough of this sweet deal (no pun intended).  So, from six o’clock until nine, we knocked on doors hoping to score so much sugar that our arms would go numb from lugging around our sacks (Of CANDY!  Keep it clean, people).

    A bonus was, 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.”  As such, it was a day off from school (a moot point 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 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 beat us up the rest of the year.   Even the girls.

    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?


    You know why?

    Because Satan doesn’t like Peanut M&Ms.
"Well, if you must know, the effin' things melt in my hands, that's why."

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Hurricane Sandy Blows

Lucky me
  I'm writing this from a hotel room in Virginia.  It's a very nice room, but I can't get the picture of CSI-style blue lights pointing out all the "schnookies" and other bodily fluids scattered here and there out of my head.  For instance, I'm deathly skeeved about touching the remote control for the TV without a HAZMAT suit.
  But, after putting on some latex gloves (don't worry about how I managed to have latex gloves) I turned on the television for the latest on Hurricane Sandy, that bitch.  Tomorrow afternoon I head back home, right smack dab in the center of where this meteorological banshee will hit.

  So, it's probably a good bet I'll lose power sometime Monday or Tuesday.  If that's the case, I'll be missing from action on Blogger.  No worries, I'll pick it up sometime Wednesday (hopefully, any power interruptions will be brief).

  Don't worry (as if), I have a post scheduled on delay.  It'll pop up sometime Monday as if nothing had happened.  But, for all you know, I could be searching the house for batteries to the blow-up sheep flashlight by then or I could be treading water in my living room (where the TV remote, at least, is clean).

  Good thing I have plenty of toilet paper stocked up.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

It's What I Do

"No, you suck!!"
"You suck!"


  Eight months ago, I traveled to Chicago to watch my nephew graduate from Navy boot camp.  My brother, his son, and I traveled by car (a laborious odyssey written about here).  

NOTE:  Go ahead and click on it if you have time.  There's a picture a Horace Greeley and I discover that chickens don't have vaginas. 

  My sister and her family, being infinitely more intelligent, chose to fly.

  Anyway, during the celebration which followed at the Great Lakes Navy Lodge (yes, beer was involved), I was discussing Facebook with one of my nieces.  Now, as those of you who are unfortunate enough to be one of my FB friends, you know that I throw up (probably an unfortunate term) some outrageous crap there (and you thought I only did so here).  Many of those include pictures similar to what you see here, but often of a political nature (NOTE:  For those of you who just got to Penwasser Place-where have you been?-where do you think Facebook Funnies comes from?).

  During the course of our discussion, she remarked to me, "I didn't know you were a Democrat."

  When she said that, I knew that I succeeded in my goal to be an enigma wrapped in a riddle cloaked in a mystery swaddled in a puzzle bathed in bewilderment disguised as an elderly Eastern European wo...well, you get the idea.

  What I'm getting at is that my primary desire in both Facebook and Blogger is to be vaguely non-partisan.  As my bio (have any of you read it?) states, I like to laugh.  While I could engage in political banter (many of you do and do it quite well), I won't.  I have little desire to get into tit-for-tat (hee...hee...hee...I said 'tit') exchanges or what I like to call "Facebook Spats."

  But, for the record (as I told my niece), I am a conservative.

"The bad news?  That law is unconstitutional.
The good news?
You can have a nice piece of ribbon candy, young man."
  I'm not sure why I'm a conservative (note I didn't say 'Republican'-after George W. Bush nominated everybody's grandmother, Harriet Miers, to the Supreme Court, I left the GOP).  But, they still kept after my money for years.  

  I've been one for as long as I can remember.  In fact, I even debated the merits of Richard Nixon versus George McGovern at summer camp in 1972 (yep, lame camp).
  The fact that I'm conservative doesn't mean I hate those who are not or think they're idiots.  Just because you don't agree with me doesn't mean we can't have a laugh or that we can't be friends.  How silly would that be?  After all, my very best friend (the character of Tommy Spagnola in Shag Carpet Toilet-get your copy now while millions last on Kindle!-is based on him) would make Alan Alda look like George Patton.

  Yet, we have a bond which transcends political "You Sucks!"

  This all being said, it's probably no secret who I will support on November 6th.  However, I won't be getting into why or why not.  If you've made up your mind, no dopey blog is going to convince you otherwise.  Plus, it's your opinion and you're entitled to it.

  But, I will continue to post things on Facebook which will cause people to wonder on which side of the aisle I fall.  Plus, if I see a picture which I think is funny, it will make it here.  And I won't care if it's a picture of Barack Obama, Sarah Palin, or the Pope.  If it makes me laugh, I hope it will make you laugh.

  Because, after all, it's what I do.

"By the way?  That help at summer camp?
Thanks for nothing.  Watergate, my ass."

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Facebook Funnies XX

"Hmmm...wonder if I should tell him he has a hanger in the batcave?"

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Facebook Funnies XIX

Middle, blah, blah. Can you hurry the
eff up!? I gotta take a wicked pee!!"

Tuesday, October 16, 2012


It's not even Halloween
And the stores are already selling stuff for Christmas.

I don't care how much my local merchants strong-arm me.
I'm gonna wait to see if the Mayans were on to something.

No sense buying presents I'll never get a chance to give.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

"Crazy Old Man" Syllogism

Milk goes in the refrigerator.
Milk goes on Raisin Bran.
Raisin Bran goes in the refrigerator.

Hey, at least I can still remember to put on trousers most days.
And I know what 'syllogism' means. 

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Facebook Funnies XVIII

"I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying your beautiful country.  And this ride is so lovely!
I was just telling William that I...hey!!  Is that a bloody volcano!?
You people do know I'm not a virgin?"

Monday, October 8, 2012

Goodbye Columbus

  The following is a repost from last year.  Which was probably a repost from the year before.  Anyway, like I've said in previous bouts of laziness, holidays (or Columbus Day) are perfect excuses for reruns.  If you don't believe me, how many times have you seen A Charlie Brown Christmas?  That thing is almost as old as I am. 
  Plus, I'm watching the baseball playoffs. 
  Better than a sleeping pill.

My hair is such a frikkin' mess-thank God I had this goofy hat. 
We didn't have the Hair Cuttery in the 15th Century, ya know. 
We had the plague and the Inquisition, though.
     I love October. 

    The air is redolent with the sweet aroma of burning leaves, high school gridirons thunder with the sound of fiercely-waged contests, Christmas lights-incredibly-start going up, and early-morning frosts warn of the coming winter.
    October also lets us celebrate the exploits of an intrepid band of explorers who set sail from Barcelona in search of a western route to the fabulous wealth of the East (yeah, going west to get east doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, either).

I said 'Sit the F down!"

    In other words, the tenth month gives us a chance to bemoan the rape and pillage of a pristine wilderness by evil, white, European males who wouldn’t know a bar of soap if it smacked them in the heads.

     So, in recognition of their accomplishments, mailmen get the day off and shopping malls trot out their very best Columbus Day displays of bed linen (“Just imagine how comfy the Santa Maria would have been if they only had these sheets!!”).

     As a holiday, though, Columbus Day really doesn’t rank up there with the Big Four of Hanukkah, Christmas, New Years, and Boxing Day.  It doesn’t draw in the romantics like Valentines Day, the patriots like the 4th of July, or even the corned beef and Guinness crowd like St. Patrick’s Day.

     More times than not, we hardly know it’s happened until the evening news greets us with, “Happy Columbus Day! Too bad you hadda go to work! Ha, ha, ha!”

     My family has for many years celebrated each holiday, no matter how innocuous. For example, on Presidents’ Day, we used to dress up as our favorite Commanders in Chief until my brother spoiled it for everyone a few years ago when, dressed as Bill Clinton, he got arrested for having his pants down in front of a convent.

     For some reason, though, we never did much to celebrate the day in 1492 when Ferdinand and Isabella’s favorite Genoan set foot in the New World and proclaimed, “What the frik you mean this isn’t China!?"

     In order to make it easier for everyone to properly observe one of the most significant accomplishments in world history right behind invention of “The Clapper,” might I offer the following ways to celebrate Columbus Day:

Apparently, Northern Indians were more
bad ass than the ones down south

10. Slash the tires of those obnoxious, know-it-all “Vikings were here first!” punks at the Leif Eiriksson Community Center.

9. Try to convince anyone that parrots, monkeys, and coconuts are just as valuable as jewels, gold, and silk.

8. Go to the local tribal casino, extend a heartfelt apology, drop a bundle at the craps table.

7. Put on a wrinkled raincoat, chew on a cigar, try to figure out who put the poison in Miss Van Dyver’s highball...oh, I’m sorry, that’s how to celebrate COLUMBO Day.

6. Grab some library books, cross out all references to ‘America’ and replace them with ‘Chrisville.’ Draw moustaches and bucked teeth on pictures of Amerigo Vespucci.

5. Bring Christianity to your neighbors at the point of a gun before selling them into slavery, claim your street for your family, pass out blankets riddled with smallpox to the homeless, and shake down passers-by, insisting they tell you where their gold is.

4. Go to a Chinese restaurant dressed as Columbus, walk in, and shout, “So, HERE’s where you people were all hiding!”

3. Forward a petition to the city council demanding equal time with Labor Day.

2. With your friends, build a scaled-down replica of Columbus’s fleet, drift aimlessly on the town pond, claim YWCA summer camp for Spain.

1. Once more dressed as Columbus, visit a deforested national park (or strip mine), issue “Ooops, my bad!” statement to the press.

There now, I hope this list inspires you to do something other than complain when you can’t use the drive-up window at the bank.

     But, if it’ll make you feel better, go get yourself a cannoli.

     Chris would’ve wanted it that way.

To my good friends north of the border: Happy Canadian Thanksgiving! May your harvest tables be blessed with bountiful feasts and happily free of moose pies.

As Martin Frobisher would have said, “Sure, it makes more sense than eating outside in Massachusetts in November, but don’t you think we could’ve thrown in a four-day weekend like the United States?”

Sunday, October 7, 2012

I Guess This Pretty Much Covers It

But, if you have freckles, sport red hair, prefer Cialis over Viagra, are fat, are skinny, like to climb on rocks, are a tough kid, or a sissy kid, even have chicken pox, like NASCAR, believe Lindsay Lohan is misunderstood, shop at Walmart, pick your nose, think pro wrestling is real, listen to Celine Dion, have toe fungus,
go 'commando,' buy your cigarettes from the back of a van from some guy named Vick, cut the edges off your bread, fart under the covers, belong to a Star Trek fan club, do crossword puzzles in pen, wipe back to front, use unwaxed dental floss, think Michael Moore is one sexy beast, leave the seat up, have rickets, tuck your tee shirt in your underwear, believe synchronized swimming is a sport, or think 'Are you from Tennessee?  No?  Well, you're the only ten I see' is a good pick-up line,'re pretty much on your own.

Be careful out there.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Facebook Funnies XVII

"And, let me be clear...despite the fact that we're wearing these frilly Judge Judy lace thingies, gowns, and scarlet dog dish hats, we are NOT chicks.  Except, perhaps, the person to my left.  But she isn't wearing glasses, so she bears watching."