Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Did You Know II?

WARNING:  The following contains two mentions and a picture of Sarah Palin.  You've been warned.


Yeah, imagine that.
But, you gotta feel sorry for the polar bears.
They don't have enough problems,
now they have to worry about blood rushing to their heads?
Well, at least the penguins won't fly off into space anymore.
      During my last post, we discussed which day could more appropriately be called the first day of the week.  I'd sum up, but I'm going on vacation tomorrow.  Which is Sunday.  The first day of the week.  Or is it?

    To catch up, you can select "Older Post" down at the bottom.  See?  Right there, below and to the right of some goofy little ad for golf or big bellies.

    If you're paying attention, you'd know that this is Tuesday.  The third day of the week.  Or is it?  

    This means that this post is on delay.  Hey, don't complain.  I could've flung a "repost" at you.  How'd you like a Christmas story, smart guy?  Don't think I didn't consider it.  

    But, I had to finish what I started last night.  Which was Saturday.  The last day of the week.  Or is it?

    In other words, Great Googli Moogli, Al, get on with it already!


**********

    Part of my point with the last post was that societal conventions
Unsure why these only come
from the Southern Hemisphere.
often color the way we perceive our world.  Western Culture has it so that we view the globe with "all the white people" (well, not all, but you get my meaning) "on top."  Everyone else is lumped down "below" with the Africans, South Americans,  Australians, and New Zealanders.


    NOTE:  Aussies and Kiwis, despite being "down under" (so that's where that came from!), you're still in the club, so to speak.

    Keep this in mind when you consider the following questions. 

    NOTE:  For my non-American friends, I'm sorry you may be lost on some of this.  By all means, feel free look at the pictures, though.

    Which state is...

    Farthest North?  That's pretty easy.  Alaska.  If you're talking about the "Lower 48,"  then it's Minnesota.

"Alaska!?
I knew I shoulda taken that
right toin at Albuquerque!"
  Farthest South?  Once again, kinda easy.  Hawaii.  Plus, they 
have women in bikinis.  So, I'm pretty cool with that.  For the "continental" U.S. (which is kind of a gyp, because Alaska is on the North American continent.  But they have Sarah Palin which means people like to leave them alone) it's Florida.  They also have women in bikinis.                                          
                                                So, it's a Geography "Win-Win."

    Farthest West?  Alaska once again.  Okay, Washington in the "lower" states.
Semisopochnoi Island.
Or a set from the Lord of the Rings.
    Farthest East?  Here's where cultural bias comes into play.  The answer is Alaska!  Why? you might ask.  Well, I'm here to tell you that one of the Aleutian Islands lays (or is that "lies"?  Who the frik knows?  If you want grammar, ask a nun) in the 
See?  I know it's wicked blurry.
That's so Sarah Palin can't see
you from her front porch.  
Eastern Hemisphere (179 degrees to be exact).  Many, many people would have said Maine because any doofus looking at a map would see  Maine on the right ("east") and Alaska wayyyyyy over to the left ("west").  


    To that I say, sure, if you're a Westerner (specifically an American) who looks at a map with North America in the center.


"Two outta four!
You betcha!!
Suck it, Maine!!"
      But, if anyone challenges you, ask that person when does "east" end?  If they're honest, they'll say that it ends east of Semisweet (whatever) Island.  
  
    Yeah, like they even know what it's called.  I didn't even know until I Googled it.

    Sure, Maine is the practical 
answer and I'll go along with that if anyone pulls a gun on me. Or a lobster.

"Ayuh, thaht's right, Mistah Man.
Now why don't you take your fahncy smaht ass ways
back to New Yawk where you came from?
Cawksuckah."

    Threat of crustacean assault notwithstanding, you'll be sure to win any bar bet if you say Alaska.


Brokenhearted when his answer of "Maine" was wrong,
Clarence tried to commit suicide.
    Of course, if the subject of geography ever comes up over a pitcher, you may want to question your choice of bars.

    Better you should visit TGIT in Dubai.  I hear they have hookers there.  Who wouldn't know the Persian Gulf from a Gulf Station in East Rutherford, New Jersey.
    
"Well, better there than this bleak ass Aleutian island."

Friday, July 26, 2013

Did You Know?

Don't adjust your computer.  You're at Penwasser Place.
The Chubby Chatterbox is one of the many talented writers on Blogger.
Then there's me.
    A while back, Steve (aka The Chubby Chatterbox) told the tale of a disagreement he was having with his wife, presumably Mrs. Chubby Chatterbox.

    NOTE:  Before I launch into today's post, please visit the link above.  It will take you directly to the aforementioned post (does anyone ever click on imbedded links?).  It'll give you a much better understanding of what the hell I'm talking about.  You may want to read other posts while you're at it.  Steve spins a pretty good yarn and I find myself very much entertained by them.  I'm sometimes saddened by his posts, as well, like when he talked about the death of a violin player.  But, you're just going to have to look that one up for yourself.  I can't do everything, you know.

  Their argument centered around which is really the first day of the week.  Steve thinks it's Sunday and I agree with him.  But, Mrs. Chatterbox made a compelling argument that Monday is really the first day.  I was going to detail each of their arguments, but why in the frik did I give you the link in the first place? 
 
"You so full shit, Thag.
Everyone know Gronsday first day of week."
    The more I thought about it, the more I realize that she may have a point.  After all, Western Culture has chosen Sunday as a day of rest.  I firmly believe that since Jesus was crucified on a Friday and rose on the third day, that took care of the resting part.  Because that whole crucifixion thing really takes it out of you.

 
"Yeah, yeah, Sunday.  Whatever.
We're trying to get an orgy going here, you know."
    What's more, to the people in and around Jerusalem, Sunday was the first day of the week because the Jews had Saturday as their holy day.  So, what do you do the day after you go to church...err...temple?  That's right.  Go to work.  Unless the economy sucks.

  The Romans pretty much didn't care which day of the week it was.  They had enough problems with the Germans.
"Ja.  You betcher ass."
  So, I'm thinking the early church fathers figured, "Aw, what the
"All right, already!!  Have it your way.
 Sunday it is!"
hell?  Besides, we have all these calendars from our insurance agents with Sunday as the first day."


  Carrying on the cultural bias, not every society considers Sunday to be a holy day and, thus, a day of rest.  Take the Muslims.  Please.  

  NOTE:  That was just too easy.

   Their holy day is Saturday.  Or Friday.  Or whenever.  Whatever you do, don't argue.  You seriously don't want to piss those people off.  They've been pretty cranky the past 70 years or so.  

    Let's just put it this way:  it ain't Sunday.  In fact, in places like the United Arab Emirates, the weekend is Friday and Saturday. 

  NOTE:  In Saudi Arabia, the weekend is Thursday and Friday.  Because the Jewish holy day is Saturday and no frikkin' way we share the weekend with those people.  But, let's just stick with the U.A.E.

  So, to Emiratis (I think that's what they call themselves), their big
I'm going out on a limb here,
but probably not one of the 72.  
night to whoop it up (although, considering the Islamic alcohol ban, I'm not sure what kind of "whooping it up"  they can do) is Thursday.  Which is why they have a place called TGI Thursday.  I've actually been to one of these when my ship visited Dubai.  It's really a pretty nice place, despite the aforementioned alcohol restrictions.  But they make do with a wide selection of virgin drinks.  All 72 of them.


Be considerate of others.
Check your bomb vest at the door.

NOTE:  I'm telling you, this stuff writes itself.

    Now, as to the real purpose behind this post, let's talk geography.  As in...which states are farthest north, south, west, and east.  

  As most people know, Maine is the farthest...oh, what?  Crap!  This post is much too long as it is.  Since I don't want to bore you, we'll have to pick this up next time.  In Did You Know II (because I'm too lazy to come up with a clever title, that's why).


Thursday, July 25, 2013

Captain Caption II

"Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
There's no pictures in 50 Shades of Gray!!!!!!!!!!!  
And I couldn't see them if there were!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


NOTE:  This is quite a handy line, isn't it?

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

I Won't Hold My Breath

    Since I got stiffed for the Royal Wedding, I don't think an invitation to the Royal Christening will be coming anytime soon.

    Still, I better find my passport and get my powder-blue tux dry cleaned.

    You never know.

"Penwasser....Penwasser.  Wills, isn't he the chap who makes fun of your stepmum?"
"You know, I do believe you're right!  No invitation to the Royal Baptism for that bloke!"
"Quite."
"Still, she is a bit of a beast."

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Who Says You Can't Learn Anything at Golf?

This, apparently, was the Sex Ed hole.


Yes.  I said 'hole.' 

We were playing at a course called Twin Woods Golf Club in Hatfield, Pennsylvania.  Some wanker had carved another penis ten feet away.  I guess that's why it's called Twin Woods.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Captain Caption

    Welcome back to what was formerly known as Facebook Funnies, that feature of Penwasser Place when I don't feel like writing anything so I just boost a picture from the internet and slap a caption on it select a picture from the news and, after much thought and deliberation, grace it with a laugh-your-ass-off scathing bit of snark.

    As I'm sure I've told you, the term "Facebook Funnies" didn't make much sense to me.  So, you might be asking, why did it take you a whole year to change it, Al?  Well, these things take time and I wanted to make sure I did it right.  You know, like the U.S. government.  

    Everything was going swell, too, and I was all set to make a breakthrough sometime around Labor Day.  2017.  Then, Mark Zuckerberg goes ahead and serves me with a "cease and desist" letter to stop using the term "Facebook."  

So, eff him.  

"Et tu, Penwasser?
Well, I'm gonna unfriend your ass so fast your head will spin."

    So there you are.

    Sadly, that left me with two choices.  I could:
    1)  Stop doing this and write an actual post every Thursday,  
    instead.   Yeah.  That's gonna happen.
    or
    2)  Keep doing it under a different name.

    For this week, I chose "Captain Caption," which came to me via a suggestion from Pat Hatt of It's Rhyme Time.  Go ahead and visit Pat and his friend the cat, if you're not already followers of them.  You, and your intelligence, will be happy you did.   

    Since Pat and the cat are two very talented people (yes, yes, I know a cat is not a "people," just go with me on this one), I thought to give this a shot.  After all, it's MUCH better than what I was thinking:  "Picture Thingie."  

    Let me know what you think of it.  Don't worry, if you tell me you don't like it, Pat won't get all hacked off.  After all, he's Canadian and those guys are super polite (even though a lot of them are French).  As far as the cat....well, you might have a poem written in your honor which may cast aspersions on your character and sexual proclivities.  He may be Canadian, too, but he's a Canadian CAT.  You've been warned.  

    Okay, enough BLAH BLAH BLAH.  On with the picture.  Captain Caption-or something else entirely-may return next week.

    Or will it? 
"I'll bet you that, if I aim just right, I'll be able to hit my horse right in the frikkin' skull.  That'll sure teach those Je...hey, wait!  That can't be right.
Oh, well, I'll just go marry my sister instead."


Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Guess What Day It Is?




Funny....

'Hump Day' meant something else when I was growing up.

Like half-price every Wednesday at the whorehouse. 

You know, after 27 years of marriage, I may want to look into that.

The whorehouse, not the camel.

It's a male camel.  What do you think I am?

A freak?



Saturday, July 13, 2013

The Devil's Triangle

Could have just as easily been called the "Florida" or the "Puerto Rico" Triangle.
But, they speak English in Bermuda.
Just another example of whitey keeping people down.
Some things have been known to
come out of the Bermuda Triangle, too.
    The Bermuda Triangle, also known as the Devil's Triangle, is an undefined region in the North Atlantic Ocean.  Over the course of time, a number of ships and aircraft have disappeared in this area of the world's oceans under mysterious circumstances.  The term, "Bermuda Triangle," is not officially


 
"So, what do we want to call that country south of Sudan?"
"How about...uh...South Sudan?"
"Works for me.  Who's up for lunch?"
recognized by the United States Navy.  Neither is it given solid credence by the United States Board
 on Geographic Names (no wonder we have an almost $17 trillion deficit).  Scientists, geologists, and freaks have attributed these events to either the paranormal or to circumstances of extraterrestrial origin.
"So then they take me up in their ship.
We have some cookies, a glass of milk, I read them a little story.
It's all very charming."
    While in the Navy, I had the opportunity to sail through the
"What the f...?  I thought Gilligan took the boat out to that ship."
"Uh...Gilligan's right here, skipper."
"Oh, little buddy, you dumbass!!"
waters of the Devil's Triangle.  I also flew in that region of the world many times.  At no time did I see anything which was out of the ordinary.  Well, when I was crewmember on USS America, we did come upon a boat which was completely empty sitting in the middle of a glassy sea.  It said S.S. Minnow on it, but we didn't give it a second thought.


    Anyway, we were returning to our base in Norfolk, Virginia after a two week operation when I decided to accompany a friend to the flight deck to watch as we tied up to the pier.  As is normally the case, thousands of our wives and children (it was 1977 and there were no women crewmembers.  There may have been boyfriends on the pier, too, for all I know.) 
    
"Flash 'im your boobs!  Flash 'im your boobs!  
Hey, you!  Hey, sir!!
You'll need to pull your pants up.
That kind of business won't be allowed for another 35 years or so." 

NOTE:  This is the true part of the story.  Really.  Well, except for the Godfather thing.  I ran out of room above.

   Looking at their excitement, my friend (I could tell you his name, but then he might want a cut of this story) said, "Hey, you know where we've been, right?"
"As you wished, Godfather, Amelia Earhart has disappeared."
"In the Bermuda Triangle, si?"
"Why...uh, no, Godfather.  Is that important?"
"You stoonad!!  Now they'll blame us.  Or the Jews."


   I looked at him like he had two heads.  "We've been at sea."

   "Yes.  But we've been at sea in the Bermuda Triangle."

    "Yeah.  So?"

    "You see all those people down there on the pier?"

    "Yeah.  So?"

    "Well, we could have entered another dimension while we were out there.  Those people may not be who we think they are."

    "Hmm.  Would we know that?"

    "No.  That's what's so freaky about it."

    I pondered his words for a few seconds and then said,
"Well, then, I don't care."

    Oh, I did mention this was in the 1970's, right?  Yeah, there was some drug use back then, too.
"Invade Iraq!?
What are you, stoned, man?"

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Facebook Funnies LII

That awkward moment when the subject of erectile dysfunction comes up.  
Or Syria.


Note:  Well, it's been a year (yeah, no kidding) so this will be the final Facebook Funnies.  Or at least this 
will be the final time I post a picture and caption under the title of Facebook Funnies.  The reason I chose
 the title is that I picked certain pictures that I had already posted on Facebook and reposted them here.  Which were...funny.  Sometimes I changed the words a little.  Most times I didn't.  What's more, if we were friends on Facebook, you had already seen these, so it was kind of a gyp.  I say 'kinda,' because there's usually a significant time lag.  For instance, I'm writing this on June 20th. 
Anyway, I'll continue to do this, but using a different title.  If you have any suggestions, please let
me know and I'll say it was my idea maybe I'll use it.
By the way, today is my birthday.  Since I have a quirky sense of humor, I chose today for my annual physical with the doctor.  And you know what that means.  If you don't...think Turkish prison. 

  

"Says here I've been in seven Facebook Funnies.  Huh, ain't that some shit?  
I think it's time the IRS pays that little smart ass Penwasser a visit."




Monday, July 8, 2013

I Get Cars, Stereos, and Cameras

But...
We have to import this?

Especially, since 2009, the United States takes shit off everybody.
USA!  USA!  USA!





NOTE:  I hesitated to make this a political statement, but it was either that or make fun of Canada.  The way I figure it, they have enough problems with Celine Dion. 



Saturday, July 6, 2013

Facebook Funnies LI

"So, I am saying for to wife, 'Am hung like moose, da?'  She makes
 with saying, 'Nyet, am hung like squirrel.'  This is why we are for
 getting with the divorces.   Bitchsky."

Thursday, July 4, 2013

A 4th of July Story

    If you came here looking for a tale of the founding fathers and
Even this guy.
their battle against the tyranny of Great Britain (hey, their words, not mine.  I think you guys from England are the coolest), you've come to the wrong place.  While I could write a history piece, I choose not to.  I did enough of that history jazz for the A-Z Challenge.


    No, this is a true story of what happened to me one 4th of July.

   Okay, a joke for my non-American followers:
    Q:  Which country has the 4th of July?
    A:  All of them.

    Anyway, it was July 4, 1998 and my ship, the aircraft carrier USS George Washington was visiting Cannes, France, on our way back to the United States, after a six month deployment to the Mediterranean Sea and that colon of the Earth, the Persian Gulf.

Wrong Khan.
  Before we go any further, I must tell you that "Cannes" is not pronounced "KAHNZ," despite our tendency to do so.  It's actually pronounced "KAHN" or...something French sounding.  I didn't pay attention to our liberty brief once they told us there were topless beaches there.


    The 4th dawned steamy and bright, the sun a searing beacon (yeah, those Creative Writing courses were a steal).

    A couple of friends and I decided to go ashore to "troll for rich people."  

    When I asked what that meant, one of my partners explained,
"You sure you want to go look at boats, monsieur?"
"We'll visit that marina on the end of the beach.  You see, the one with all those luxury yachts?  Well, we'll stroll up and up down the berths and wait for a rich person to ask us aboard.  We're sure to get a free meal and...who knows?"


    Since it sounded good to me and the other guy, off we went.


NOTE:  Writer's depiction only.
Ours didn't have a red, poofy ball on his hat.
    No sooner had we stepped into the marina when a man, who was coiling a rope at the stern end of one huge boat, gave us a friendly hello.

    Seeing our chance, we engaged him in conversation.  Once we started talking, it was clear to us he was British.  So, it was surprising when he said, "Happy 4th of July!"

    Not wanting to be rude, I returned with, "Same to you!  Uh...no offense."

    "None taken, mate."

    And then he ran me through with a cutlass.

    NOTE:  I've inserted the British colloquialism, "mate," to make my English followers feel more at home.  What's more, if I can work in a "bloody 'ell,"  I'll do so.  Oh, yeah, he didn't run me through, either.

    Our newfound friend explained to us all that there was on the boat.  It had its own navigation radar, inboard motors which could make the thing almost fly, and berthing for a dozen people.  It also appeared to have its own sweet bar.

    After about 15 minutes, we thought it was strange that he hadn't invited us aboard.

    Why became apparent when he finally said,  "Well, I could talk to you blokes all afternoon, but I have to get the boat ready before the owner returns."

    NOTE:  Bonus use of the term "blokes."  You're welcome.  Mate.

    And then he returned to his duties.

    So, we had wasted a quarter of an hour chatting up Percival the Boat Boy.  

    Oh, bloody 'ell.    

    NOTE:  Told you I'd try.

    EPILOGUE:  Our efforts weren't ultimately wasted, though.  Nearly despairing of our efforts, we
Yeah, no shit, his name is Andre Assous.
Go ahead.  Google it.
"Penwasser, Penwasser?
No, I do not know zis Penwasser of whom you speaks.
Like a pump?"
were invited onto the last boat in the slip.  The owner's name was Claude.  His wife was named Annie.  And they were joined by their friends, Andre (who owns a grunch of shoe stores in France and the United States) and his wife, Claudia.  Also on board was Junie, their Filipino Boat Boy, who could not step onto land, because he didn't have a passport.  After trying to explain why we didn't think Jerry Lewis was funny, they offered us dinner and drinks.  The next day they gave us a ride on their boat (we circled our ship, resisting the urge to moon the Officer of the Deck).  Afterwards, we anchored to go snorkeling.  They were great people, but irony of ironies:  these very nice people were French.
But, that's another story altogether.

Okay, okay, since it is Independence Day....

"Okay, let's see...I've got a turkey croissant for Jefferson,  BLT for Adams, and roast beef with a slice of cherry pie for Washington-that figures.  And, a...what the f...really, Ben, really??  Fish and chips???  You do know what we're doing here, don't you, you senile old fart!!??"