Random Farts and Other Musings

I thought long and hard (that's what she said) about what to write for my silly old blog but couldn't come up with anything that wasn't inappropriate at every level. So in the interest of refreshing this space with new words and graphics for my followers and followers-to-be, I have collected some assorted ruminations, anecdotes, factoids, silly videos and random weirdness to entertain you and hopefully make your trek to my site a worthwhile one. Enjoy!

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We have a cat named Blue who is deaf. I think if you are a cat, it's just better if you are deaf and I will tell you why. My two dogs love her, but being dogs they can't resist the urge to chase after her and bark and growl and snarl at her as menacingly as a couple of small dogs can. Meanwhile Blue sits there, licking her paw as poised and serene as can be, completely oblivious to the racket.

I think the dogs think she is a real bad ass.

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If we ever become an advanced enough society to have created realistic-looking robots, or androids as they are called, I think it would it be in the best interest of society if they knew how to fart and burp because any robot design of us wouldn’t be complete without including some of our foibles. As we aren't perfect, neither should they be. Just as long as they don’t do it all the time. That’s just gross.

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If a dog can supposedly tell where another dog has been by just smelling it's butt, as they say, then if you fart in a dog's face, is that the equivalent of their watching a DVD of where you were? Maybe even in surround sound?

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Consider that each of the following items occur every minute of every day. (1) 250 babies are born, 113 into poverty; (2) the average person in the world makes once cent; (3) the average American household earns almost ten cents; (4) Oprah Winfrey makes $523; (5) 950,186 pounds of trash is thrown away in the US; (6) 120,673 pounds of edible food is thrown away in the US and (7) 18 die from starvation.

Wow, that's really incredible. Rarely do you hear something that really makes you pause and reflect like that. I mean it really blows my mind that Oprah makes that much money. You go girl!

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My mother always blamed her farts on her cat, Nuisance, even years after the cat died. Like Nuisance, the “rapid fire” farts would follow her while she was ascending or descending the stairs in her home. These feline "ghost farts" so far have yet to leave any ectoplasmic residue. At least, not yet.

Spooky!

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I think you can tell a lot about a person by his/her selection of pizza toppings. For instance, I respect those that put anchovies on their pizza because they are saying “I don’t care if 95% of people hate them. I want a fishy salt lick (or is it a salty fish lick?) on my pizza because I am cool like that.”

But what can you say about people that put these (all true) toppings on their pizza: Hard Boiled Eggs, Spaghetti, Squid, Pickles, Mayo, Caviar, Thousand Island Dressing, French Fries, Oysters and Sunflower Seeds.

I believe these pizza topping choices must denote a person with a serious chemical imbalance or psychological problem. (Medical term: Crazy MoFo.)

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Places where you should never fart include (1) in line at the Post Office; (2) in an elevator; (3) in a dentist’s/barber’s chair; (4) in the shower and (5) at a job interview.

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Okay, I admit it. I used to torture my kids when they were little. I made up bullshit stories that they believed, scared them to their wits end with evil clown dolls and clucking chicken dolls and other twisted things and basically screwed with their tiny minds because…well…it was funny!

I purposely sang “Georgia On My Mind” in a screeching, off-key voice when they were in my car. And for years that’s how they thought the song was supposed to be sung.

Also when we were in the car I would announce that we were going to visit my friend and that he hated kids and liked to poke them with a stick. (shrieks of utter terror)

“No daddy, please, I don’t want to go there!” (ha ha, nice one!)

Then I would say he is in Kansas City and that they wouldn’t be able to enter the city limits unless they could do the “Boola Boola Dance.”

“But daddy, I don’t know the “Boola Boola Dance!” they cried. "Well, I guess you will have to walk home then." (snicker, snicker!)

I can’t wait to see what rest home they decide to put me in.