Get-the-Perfect-Parting-in-Your-Hair

I love this woman’s parts.

$2.00 for 50 capsules in my case. Each 4-cent capsule of the stuff (acetaminophen) has 500 mg’s and the bottle said to take two.  My pain was gone in about 15-minutes.  I’m also happy to say I’ve given many more headaches than I’ve gotten.

All of the reptiles in America don’t crawl on the ground.  Some stand up, wave the Bible, and preach hatred of Islam.  You may have heard of  Terry Jones, pastor of Dove World Outreach Church in Gainesville, Florida. This group of Christian dolts plans to burn Qurans to protest the 911 attack by al Qaeda.

The world is already starting to rumble.  Many Muslims are criticizing this bit of buffoonery and General David Petreus said the burning of Islam’s holy books “could cause significant problems for American troops overseas.”  The pastor said he’s “praying on it” – but I don’t think God picks up on crank calls.

Well good Christians, how do you feel about this lunatic spewing hate in your name all over the world?  Kind of like most Muslims who resent being lumped together with maniacal religious killers acting in the name of Islam? Hmmm….

kindgirls.com

Anti-Smoking ads are becoming crazier – and more annoying. I’ve never smoked – but I support an adult’s freedom of choice. I don’t think we should “protect” adults from themselves. But screaming, histrionic anti-smoking freaks don’t agree. I think it’s fine to discuss the dangers and foolishness of smoking in schools – but these nuts have gone way too far! For them, Smoking Ends! justify the means.

On TV, I’ve seen enough rotting lungs, amputated limbs, and dismal doctors delivering devastating diagnosis’s to last me a lifetime. OK – I get it. I don’t smoke anyway – as don’t 4 out of 5 Americans.  But these damn campaigns won’t quit in a race to shock and shame smokers with grosser and grosser ads.

The latest? A television spot showing a little boy and his Mom in a crowded train station. Mom walks away. Kid is surrounded by hurrying adults. Abandoned kid bursts out crying and the idiot announcer says something like “this is a child without his Mother for a few seconds. Imagine how he would feel if she were to leave forever.”

The best? Although the little kid and his Mom are actors, the Mom REALLY DID walk away and the kid REALLY DID burst out crying – all caught on the 5 running cameras. Oh well, what’s a little kid’s panic compared to saving people from the perils of smoking?

I think I have a better idea since we’re sliding down this slope anyway.Instead of bullying small children, why don’t these fanatical, anti-smoking terrorists agree to commit suicide on live TV if a certain number of people quit smoking? We could call it, “We’ll Quit Living If You Quit Smoking.”

I’d call that a “Win-Win” for everyone.

Eraserhead is a 1976 surrealist film made in America. It’s genre?  Take your pick: science fiction? horror? fantasy? anti-abortion? pro-abortion? comedy? political? annoying? all of the above?

Here’s the TV Guide synopsis: Henry is a very strange man living in a polluted, industrialized world where he’s surrounded by people even stranger than he.  When told by his girlfriend’s Mother he’s going to be a father and must marry her daughter, the horrified Henry immediately gets a nosebleed.  The Mother responds, “I’ll get some ice” (?) and his girlfriend sobs, “You don’t mind do you, Henry?”

How strange is it?  In the late ‘80’s, my friends and I had two parties to see peoples’ reactions to Eraserhead.  The results were amazing!  Some people started arguing about abortion, other people were laughing, some were trying to figure out the symbolism, and one poor woman rushed from the room crying loudly.

I don’t suggest you let your kids watch this movie unless they’re really strange – or you don’t like them. Here’s a link to the unforgettable ‘man-made chicken’ dinner scene when Henry first meets  his future in-laws.  Poor Henry.

youtube.com

Gonorrhea is nothing to clap about.

A Public Service Announcement by: Everyone is Entitled To My Opinion

virtuagirl.com

Why would anyone want  strippers as a desktop or a screen saver? They’re only slightly more real than they are on stage. (“Oh God – being suspended like this on a cold, brass pole is really turning me on!”)

Roy Sullivan showing the hat he wore one time when he was struck by lightning.  Yep – that’s a big old hole in the middle of it.  Roy thought it was his lucky hat.  Roy thought a lot of strange things.

One of the occupational hazards of being a US Forest Ranger is lightning.  Sometimes a bolt will strike a tall tree and rarely (RARELY) it will strike a person in the woods.

Roy C. Sullivan was an exception.  Roy was a US Forest Ranger in Shenandoah National Park in Virginia and got struck by lightning – SEVEN TIMES!

The first time was in 1942 when Roy was in a fire lookout tower. LOOK OUT! (Damn!) The 2nd didn’t hit him until 1969 when he was in his truck. The third? The very next year in his front yard. Number four got him in the ranger tower again, 1972.

When did Roy decide this was no big deal? Did one of his kids ever yell, “Ma! Pop got hit by lightning again.”

“Don’t worry kids – he’ll get up soon. And dammit, Little Roy, stop pressing that light bulb on him. You know that doesn’t work!”

Bolt #5 with Roy’s name on it got him in his car in 1973 with #6 only a year later when he was at a campground. In 1977, Roy decided to chuck it all and went fishing. You guessed it. The 7th and final Roy C. Sullivan Lightning Bolt hit him with his line in the water. He survived.

Sometime between bolts three and five, Roy Sullivan got religion. I guess the man decided God was trying to tell him something. But first, God had to get his attention.

My Grandma always believed – and taught my Mom – poor people were as good as rich people as long as they were clean and had manners. She always said, “Soap is cheap and manners are free. If you’ve got those things, you can walk with anyone.”

We hated that as kids.  We were the only kids we knew who were expected to be at the dinner table at 5:00 pm sharp, hands washed with a conversation topic to discuss. We sat there and didn’t begin passing food until Grace was said. An elbow on the table was cured by a stern look from my Father and chewing with your mouth open produced a quizzical look from my Mom questioning how did you ever get to eat dinner with this family anyway? We never even thought about leaving the table until we were excused.

Fast forward – 1972. Because of some college speaking championships, I was taken to lunch at the world famous Sardi’s in Manhattan by a CBS Vice-President. I was 22-years old. After we were led to our reserved table, I looked down at my place setting. There were two damn forks on the left, an exotically rolled napkin in the middle, and two spoons and a knife on the right. My butter knife was resting comfortably on my bread plate.

I looked down and smiled. “Thank you, Nanny,” I said to myself as I sat down and nonchalantly placed the napkin on my lap. I earnestly looked at the Vice President and asked if he came there often.