Why does the wise serial killer never kill the same kind of person twice? Variety is the spice of knife.

Hmm, A little dark, I should have used that one on Halloween week!


 

A little prick

Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, surely I can't look that old.

My name is Mary, and I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his diploma on the wall, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 30-odd years ago. Could he be the same guy that I had a secret crush on way back then?

Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, gray-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate. After he examined my teeth, just on the off chance, I asked him if he had attended Morgan Park High School .

"Yes. Yes, I did. I'm a Mustang," he gleamed with pride.

"When did you graduate?" I asked.

"In 1991. Why do you ask?"

"You were in my class!" I exclaimed.

He looked at me closely.

Then that ugly, balding, wrinkled faced, fat-assed, gray-haired, decrepit son-of-a-bitch asked:

"What did you teach?"

Off the Bench, to the Flooded Park, Near the Blimp.

I hate being benched.  In this case, it was by my own choice.

My "backup team" was in Europe having his European Vacation.  Madrid, Barcelona, Paris, London.  

Almost sounds like an old dance song.

I don't workout without knowing that there is someone I can call in an emergency.  Since I am an Endurance Athlete with many miles under my belt in two sports, I am being prudent.

I am also carrying titanium bars and about 30 screws to hold it all together.  I don't want to buy my Orthopedic Surgeon in Boca Raton another BMW via my health insurance.

Again.

This week I am finally getting back to training.  Goal is, by the end of December, to be back to predictably riding at least a 27 mile marathon three times a week.

At this point, after six weeks of doing nothing but walking 6 miles a day, 10K, with the dog, I am feeling it.

If you are (ahem) a Masters Class athlete, don't take a long break.  You will hate what you are up to when you get back.  You know "The Masters", us "old duffers" plodding around doing various sports.

At least we will be once the flood waters recede.  South Florida had 18 consecutive days of rain, at least here near Fort Lauderdale.  The last of those 18 days was "only" 4 inches (10 cm) at the park.  The parking lot had calf deep standing water, and the entry is still underwater.  Having to ford a standing pond is never fun.  A Friend of mine up in Ft Pierce sent me a weather report saying there was up to a foot near him, so we got off lucky.

A lot can happen in six weeks.  They changed from blocking off large sections of the park, that the blocks were largely ignored, due to construction of a questionably large apartment community almost directly on top of the trail, to reopening most of the trail.   There are still blocks up, and one segment is unpaved, but it is a big help for distance athletes.

4 2/3 miles of asphalt, one "lake" later, you can loop around, do multiple laps, and get something approaching a workout.  

Or at least once you train up to that ability.

Being forced out onto a six lane highway is never fun.

One of the oddball things I saw was The Blimp. 

Or rather one of the four of them.  I had to look it up.  The tail proudly calls them Wingfoot One, through Three. 

I never saw Wingfoot Three before but it had a visit.  Wingfoot One and Two are here from time to time.  One is based in Akron Ohio, Two is based here.  Three is based in Los Angeles.  Complete with a logo on the side.

There is a Wingfoot Europe that is in Essen Germany, which is something I never expected.

After six weeks, things do change.  Projects come to a phase change, someone spray paints a neon logo on the side of a blimp, and the flood waters begin to recede.

Me?  I only did 18.5 miles last time out.  I have a way to go.  Too bad I can't go for a ride on one, it would be fascinating.

Did you hear about the man who fell asleep on his horse? He has night mares.

A Wee bit late this morning.  Managed to get to the flooded park and actually put in 90 minutes of cycling.  Not bad considering.

So what follows is a Blonde Joke that the blondes will like.  Promise!  And I'll even toss in a shorty at the end because I'm that way!



 Reverse engineering

Two engineers were standing at the base of a flagpole, looking at its top. A blonde walked by and asked what they were doing.

"We're supposed to find the height of this flagpole," said Sven, "but we don't have a ladder."

The woman took a wrench from her purse, loosened a couple of bolts, and laid the pole down on the ground.

Then she took a tape measure from her handbag, took a measurement and announced, "Twenty one feet, six inches," and walked away.

One engineer shook his head and laughed, "Typical blonde! We ask for the height and she gives us the length!"







In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, the Mystic delivered grave news: "There's no easy way to tell you this, so I'll just be blunt. Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year." 

Visibly shaken, Laura stared at the woman's lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself - and to stop her mind racing. She simply had to know. 

She met the Fortune Teller's gaze, steadied her voice and asked, "Will I be acquitted?"

Did you know before they invented crowbars, crows mostly drank at home?

Sunny Saturday Morning here, and we are in the secret season.  Snowbirds haven't yet flown south, and that's good because I don't want to share my fried plantains with anyone!  :)

One plantain beginning to turn from yellow to black, sliced into medallions, dusted with cinnamon and sugar, and fried in a teaspoon of butter.

You can't complain about that for breakfast even if it is a bit high in carbs.




A beaver wants to start dating. He sees a nice girl online, reaches out and they agree to meet at the bar.

The beaver arrives first and orders a drink. Just then the girl arrives. He looks at her and sees the flat tail, webbed feet, brown fur and then…. Oh no, her face!

She comes over and he blurts out, “you’re a platypus!”

She seems slightly embarrassed, “well, yes, there was a picture of me on my online profile”

“Oh, I thought you were just doing duck lips for the camera.”

She sits and the bartender takes her order.

The beaver goes on, “I’m sorry, just not too many platypuses around, I mean, are you even from here?”

The platypus, now visibly upset says, “I don’t know why that is any of your dam(n) business!”

“What does my families construction company have to do with this!” And the beaver stands up and leaves.

The bartender comes over with the platypuses drink and says, “err, sorry love, but he didn’t leave any cash or a card.”

The platypus sighed, “I guess this means the bills on me” 

Social Media, Ads, and other Annoyances and Time Sinks.

On a day after the elections, when the blue tsunami has hit showing that we the people haven't indeed lost our minds to the Magas, I sit here pondering online advertising.

See, I run a lot of software to block ads.  A Bloody Huge amount.  Recently Facebook decided to tweak their page.  Their right.  But when I see five ads, literally, for ever single pertinent "friend's post" i have to question why I bother.

On the other hand, I hear this often.  People dropping Facebook for other alternate social media outlets.  I've kept Facebook going for family.  I don't have a lot of "friends" on there, but I do that for a reason.  Only about 150 friends there and almost all are family or a direct connection. 

On Blue Sky, I do.  13000 at last count.  I have been vetting like-minded people there who have stumbled across what I am putting out and who think "hey, let me follow him".  Both outlets I have the same attitude - find me, and I will see what you have to say.  

Early on, I decided chasing fame online was overkill.  I go about my business, and do my thing.  The blog is my own echo chamber, a scratch pad for my life.  I put thoughts out into the ether, and things that I feel that I need to remember.  Deep dives into mechanical maintenance on sports equipment, or total teardowns of electronics, or cooking/baking.  Ya know, normal crap that I decided I needed a ramble on about.

Since 2009, I have been doing that.  I don't seem to want to stop that so many years later, even if it is canned humor on the weekends that have its own audience, and I have been recipe heavy on Wednesdays.

Good grief, have I really been doing this blather for 17 years?

It's all kind of feeding itself, pun intended.  After all if I am going to make something to fuel my training efforts, I will want to keep that recipe where I can get at it.  Everything is tested, and vetted.  It's also right sized so it doesn't cause issues.  

So I have had my fun for the day on there.  I think I may have reported more than 50 ads for ludicrous reasons, and that could be closer to 100.  

I don't understand why, nobody likes them, and there isn't really any reason why I would have someone screaming at me to buy their product.  It won't change my mind.  Especially at this ponderous volume that they have decided to shout at me, you, and everyone.

Can't say that the "Influencer" life makes all that much sense.  I"m kind of an edge case.  Sitting in my rocker, listening to a Soca station in London, while the thunder rumbles on the 16th day in a row.   I doubt I'd find many people in the US that like to listen to Caribbean music, unless they have a connection there.  I don't but I am amused.

So influence away.  I'll keep blasting away at annoyances.  Besides, I have to go tend to the oven.  It's time to set out food for dinner.  

I was gonna tell a joke about time traveling ...But you guys didn't like it.

 Ok, today is time change day.  For most of us at any rate.  Set your clocks back an hour where you need to.

That reminds me of Mom's Lincoln.  It had a clock that was just easier to leave alone on whichever time it was set because it was wickedly difficult to find just the right set of buttons to set.

As for the clock on the stove?  It's a touch screen and for some reason touch screens and I are not friends.  I despise them.  They may work for you but not for me.

Ask me how I feel about this whole smart phone economy some day, I hate it.

As I am listening to the 6AM news broadcast on CBC Canada I am thinking they are going to have a collective well thought out decision as to whether to stop this twice yearly ritual.  They are already chipping away at it.

Here, we have said a resounding No to it but like everything else in Washington, gridlock is the rule.





One day in the junk shop


Back in the days of my youth when I used to help the owner out, I was pleasantly surprised to see a lovely young woman come in, look around a bit and then come up to the counter. "Please," she said, in a voice that sounded kind of Russian, "I am looking for one night stand."

Well, when I was young and bold I used to know what to do, and as there was no-one else in the shop I shut up early and we got along to a bar I knew where they used to have a talent night, and over cocktails we watched a young magician doing his stuff, and as I recollect down the years, he was pretty good. Then later we went along to about the fanciest restaurant I could afford, I saw her back to her front door after dinner, leaned in for a kiss and was delighted to be invited in for coffee.

Like I say, back then I used to know what to do (I still do, but the flesh is weaker now than then), and I'll draw the curtain of discretion over the next eight hours or so, until the sun crept over the windowsill and I turned to her and said, "Well, how was that?"

"Was wonderful," she said with a sigh, "but I still have nowhere to put alarm clock."

A time traveller steps on a butterfly and says "Ah no! Not this again"

So for today, it's a bunch of short ones.   Six, Short, and Sweet.  I have a friend like that up North so this one is for you, and all the short and sweet dears out there! 




My brother went to a job interview,

Manager: “this is an impressive resume, but what were you doing during this 4 year gap? “
Brother: “I went to Yale”

Manager: “Well, in that case, you’re hired!”
Brother: “Thank you! I really need this yob”.



 I called a psychic to ask if I’d ever stop wasting money.
She said, “Absolutely.”
I said, “When?”
She said, “That’ll be another $40.”



I keep trying to negotiate a better bargain on a used carousel
No matter how much we discuss it, we just keep going around and around.



I just caught a glimpse of my laugh lines in the mirror.
I don't remember anything being THAT funny.




A man accidentally bumps his canoe into someone else's. He was promptly attacked.
It was a case of rowed rage



Whats green has four legs and if it falls out of a coconut tree will kill you?
A pool table.

Scratch Muffin Mix Recipe, This Time With Pumpkin Spice

 This pumpkin spice thing.  It's a recipe I have used for years and I keep it on hand because it is a nice change of pace.  

It works in Coffee, Homemade Soap, and this time I made Muffins with it.

I used a Tablespoon in this mix that is completely from scratch because I wanted something a little different in the freezer for snacks.  The picture has Raisins along with the Pumpkin Spice and the trick with baking with them is to add the raisins to a coffee mug with equal amounts of boiling water and allow them to soak.  It adds a little bit of chew.  Drain off the water, and bake as your "add in" on the muffin mix.  One cup of add ins by volume is recommended.

Ingredients:

• 2 cups All Purpose Flour
• 2/3 cups Sugar
• 1 teaspoon Baking Powder
• 1/2 teaspoon Baking Soda
• 1/4 teaspoon Salt
• 2 teaspoons Powdered Milk or Buttermilk Powder

Process:

Makes 12 Muffins - I put the batter in a plastic bag, snip the corner off, then pipe it into the muffin cups.  Nice and even sized muffins.

Add Mix to bowl with the following Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup Milk
• 1 Egg, Beaten
• 1/4 cup Melted Butter
• 1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract
• 1 cup of add ins such as Nuts/Raisins/Chocolate Chips
• To make Chocolate Muffins - Add 4 Tablespoons Cocoa
• To make Pumpkin Spice Muffins - Add 1 Tablespoon Pumpkin Spice Mix

Bake at 350F for 18 minutes and remove when toothpick inserted in the middle of a cupcake comes out clean.

Bigamy has its own penalty… Two Mothers-In-Laws!

 Ok so the topic is very 1950s boomer humor but it made me have a dopey smile so I'll pass that on.

Where as this little gem reminds me of the stories of the food deliveries during Covid Lockdown and later.  How were your fries?





Bitten menu

"Excuse me, waiter!" Says the man
Waiter: yes, can I help you sir?

Man: yes what does it it mean by "bitten burger" here on the menu?
Waiter: because the burger has a bite taken out of it

Man: a bite?... out of the burger?
Waiter: yes sir

Man: and what about the steak, is that bitten too?
Waiter: yes sir, it's bitten as well.

Man: ah but I see here on the menu that the salmon doesn't have "bitten" written with it
Waiter: yes but it comes with bitten potatoes instead

Man: why?
Waiter: because I don't like salmon

I need advice on how to handle a very controversial situation. Earlier today, I lathered and rinsed, but I did *NOT* repeat.

Ahh the things I get away with when the house is "empty"!



Another one of those that when I re-read for the dozen-th time, I got a chuckle out of it.

Here you go!





Southern charm

In a crowded city, at a busy bus stop, a beautiful young woman in a tight mini skirt waited for the bus.

When the bus arrived and it was her turn to board,

her skirt was so tight she couldn’t lift her leg to the first step.

Slightly embarrassed, she flashed a quick smile at the driver, reached back, unzipped her skirt a little, and tried again.

No luck.

More embarrassed now, she reached back, unzipped it a bit further, and attempted the step once more.

Still no luck.

With another polite smile to the driver, she reached behind a third time, unzipped even more, and still couldn’t make it.

A big Texan standing right behind her gently grabbed her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the step.

She spun around, furious.

“How dare you touch me!

I don’t even know you!”

The Texan grinned, tipped his hat, and drawled,

“Well, ma’am… normally I’d agree with ya. But after you unzipped my fly three times, I kinda figured we was friends.”