Let's Talk

"Come on, Luke Three, aren’t you hungry?"
"Honey, he’s not going to answer you."
Since the kids have moved out, we have decided that it’s difficult enough to just take care of me, so we both agreed … No Pets.
That didn’t stop my wife from bringing home “Luke Three”. He, or she, is a Beta fish. Oh, yes, there was “Luke” and “Luke Two”. My wife still calls this latest one “Luke Two”. I argued, there was already one. She said there were three others. Then one was missing. It may have been named “Luke One” … and if it had been “Luke One”, then which one would just plain “Luke” be?
Technically, “Luke” would be “Luke One” as well, right? I was so confused.
She finally put me straight … there was “Luke” and all that followed would be named “Luke Too”.
Welcome to my marriage!
Anyway … how she names our fish isn’t the point.
The point I’m making is this … she talks to it.
When she taps the top of the tank and shakes in some food, Luke responds by rising to the top to eat. Luke never utters a word back.

"Paulie! Furio! Nana and Papa are here. Come say hello."
Our youngest one and her husband have cats.
They always converse with their cats, as most cat owners do.
Nana, my wife, talks to them too.
"Paulie … ah, here’s the big boy."
"Furio … Where are you? Come give Nana a kiss."
Paulie is … the bigger boy … but Furio … never gives her a kiss. Cats hardly ever do what they’re told.
The cats respond more to the sound of their box of food being shaken than any words you say to them. You shake … they come. Other than a “meow” Paulie and Furio never utter a word.

"Chief, sit! Chief, stay!"
Our second-born (by six minutes) and her husband own a dog. His name is Chief.
"Chief, speak!"
“Rrrrrrrrrruff!”
Okay. We’re moving a little further up the intelligence ladder here.
There’s only one way I can think of when we’d actually hear a recognizable and appropriate word come out of Chief’s mouth … tell Chief to speak, after asking him how conversations go between Papa and Nana.
Other than the word “rough” (and Chief spells it wrong) … they always talk to him and Chief never utters a word.

"Lucia, what are you trying to say. Please repeat that. "
Our first-born (by six minutes) and her husband gave us our first grandchild.
Her name is Lucia.
We all talk to Lucia and at seventeen-months-old she is beginning to talk back to us. We can understand a word or two but the communications between us are a bit frustrating to say the least. Her Nana’s conversational skills and Italian mannerisms definitely stand out.
We talk to Lucia and Lucia utters a few back to us. We just wish we understood her. Check out this “father-daughter conversation …

T-Shirt Friday on Monday

This post is being published to play along with a dear fellow blogger, nursemyra. In wanting to stay healthy and happy, I followed her professional instructions for treating my underactive funny bone.
No ... not that one ... although it has been laughed at.
Anyway ... She has invited everyone to post his or her own T-shirt pic … and so as to keep with the theme she's chosen (above), I dug deep in the t-shirt draw and found this long retired favorite.

PLEASE NOTE
This license has expired a while ago and although it has never been renewed there are always the flashbacks. (smile/wink)

Papa and His Girls

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

A Link Love Carol

My friend M.I. over at Malicious Intent invited me to participate in a Christmas meme. The challenge was to write my own lyrics to the Twelve Days of Christmas ...
(Click Here for For Background Melody).
So with Stocking Stuffer Link Love ... Sing along ...

On the first day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
A place where I can be Practically!

On the second day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the third day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the fourth day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the fifth day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
All unmentioned Blogs,
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the sixth day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Six Offended Bloggers,
All unmentioned Blogs,
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the seventh day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Seven Catscratch Divas,
Six Offended Bloggers,
All unmentioned Blogs,
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the eighth day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Eight Nurse Myra corsets,
Seven Catscratch Divas,
Six Offended Bloggers,
All unmentioned Blogs
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the ninth day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Nine Depp Effects,
Eight Nurse Myra corsets,
Seven Catscratch Divas,
Six Offended Bloggers,
All unmentioned Blogs,
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the tenth day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Ten Malicious Intents,
Nine Depp Effects,
Eight Nurse Myra corsets,
Seven Catscratch Divas,
Six Offended Bloggers,
All unmentioned Blogs,
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the eleventh day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Eleven of VE’s Nonsense,
Ten Malicious Intents,
Nine Depp Effects,
Eight Nurse Myra corsets,
Seven Catscratch Divas,
Six Offended Bloggers,
All unmentioned Blogs,
Four of Bee’s Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

On the twelfth day of Christmas,
Google sent to me,
Twelve drinks at the Wild Onion,
Eleven of VE’s Nonsense,
Ten Malicious Intents,
Nine Depp Effects,
Eight Nurse Myra corsets,
Seven Catscratch Divas,
Six Offended Bloggers,
All unmentioned Blogs,
Four of Bee's Musings,
Three from Queen Goob,
Two Mental Poos,
And a place where I can be Practically!

Happy Holidays to All!

Secret Santa Picture Gift Swap

This is my first blogging Christmas and thanks to the hard work and dedication of Bee, at Bee’s Musings, I received an invitation to join in on the “Secret Santa Can Suck It” picture gift swap.
Out of the hat came a fellow blogger’s name I had never heard of before, but I was excited to learn all I could to search for the perfect gift to give.

So I put on my hiking boots and headed out to Bum Fuque Egypt where this blogger resides. It didn’t take long to find my blogger, once I was in the Hillbilly sticks I asked directions and was told to follow the empty beer cans and they’d lead me right to the asshole. (BTW … this has already become an adventure for me. Just visiting my Secret Santa recipient has influenced my blogging style … two curses in the same paragraph is a new record for me.)

I learned quickly that my new blogger friend was in desperate need of help. From the far side of the chicken coop I witnessed a crafty old fox, a wounded duck and a maniacal woman with a gun. I hit the dirt and snake-crawled back to my computer.

I have got to come up with the perfect gift for a lady that calls herself an asshole, has a welcoming song on her blog about an asshole, loves sushi, loves vampires and shoots guns. DUCK!!! … No seriously, get up, she’s not here … but …I did decide on the perfect gift thanks to that DUCK!! WAIT! COME ON PEOPLE GET UP! I told you she's not here.


Meet Sassy … from none other than … Sassy & Opinionated. Sassy, right now is in the middle of a crisis. There’s a fox visiting her henhouse. Worst of all, the damn fox attacked and wounded her duck. This fox is very smart and has escaped the crosshairs of Sassy’s gun.

My Secret Santa gift to Sassy is a masterful plan, along with the backup needed to rid her of this fox. I’ve hired a team of specialists and spent time and money developing a master plan.

THE TARGET … MR. FOX


Michael? No … not that one.


Wait, yes! Hmmmm. Vivica? No. Sorry.

That's him! Caught in the act by one of our field photographers on our surveillance team, cleverly disguised so not to arouse suspicion.



THE DECOYS

Our wounded duck is currently in the hospital ...
... being cared for by the distinguished Dr. Quack

THE PLAN

The plan is to substitute a decoy in the barn …

We will also use a fake Dr. Quack. Again … so not to arouse suspicion.

Our professionally trained team members are strategically positioned in the field and are on high alert.







THE TRAINING

Be assured … Lots of preparation has gone into this operation, including and not limited to role playing techniques and battlefield advice from the distinguished General Fox Terrier.


Once the target is spotted we will spare no effort to complete our mission.
Air support will be brought in to dispose of the culprit and life will once again be good.



THE GIFT ... A SAFER HOMESTEAD

Sassy, don’t fear. All the horses, sheep, dogs, cats, chickens and “Ducky” will someday soon be safe from Mr. Fox.
So put down your gun, pop open a beer and gather the family to sing some asshole songs.
Your Secret Santa will take care of everything.

Oh ...I also got you a stocking stuffer.
Offering Rodney and Carrington songs on your blog like "Letter to My Penis" ...
I thought you might like to listen to something similar but different.
Turn up your speakers and ... Enjoy!



"Wishing a very joyful Merry Christmas to Sassy and her Family"
... Practically Joe

Hey! If you like to see what my Secret Santa gave to me ... CLICK HERE!

Getting in the Holiday Spirit

It’s Sunday. It’s my day off.
While having my coffee, I visited some of my favorite blogs.
Suddenly I was feeling some Christmas spirit.
It happened while visiting Bee’s Musings.
She had organized a “Secret Santa Can Suck It!” community blog. Check it out! What a fun idea.
I felt invigorated. I was ready to confront my Christmas time duties. I agreed to do some Christmas shopping with my wife.
This made her happy.

First … because we needed a tree and my wife’s car has the biggest trunk, we decided to take her car. Inside the car …
"Joe, where are we going first?"
"Well, what’s on our list?"

I formulated a plan …
My walk around inspection of my wife’s vehicle alerted me to the fact that two of her tires were under-inflated. From the driver’s seat I immediately noticed that she needed gas. First stop would be a service station along our route.
We arrived at our first stop, filled her up and waited for the “FREE” air pump.
There was a car at the air pump and there seemed to be a problem. There were two women seeming to have difficulties. I watched as they took the air hose and proceeded to feed it through the driver’s door. I was perplexed. We were now waiting at the pump for 12 minutes to use the air hose. I wondered what could be wrong as I eyed one of the women re-enterer the gas station. I followed her in. She informed the clerk that the hose might be frozen so they ran it inside their vehicle and turned up the heat.
The clerk said … ”Huh?” (In his defense … it was 50 degrees outside.) She then said to the clerk …
"Look, something is wrong, Instead of filling our tire it took all the air out of it and now it’s flat."
Seeing the confused look on the clerk’s face, I stepped in and told the clerk not to worry … I will try to help the woman. This made the woman happy. (as well as the clerk)
What I found was that the women were not holding down the “start” button long enough for the air compressor to start. They allowed all the air to escape from their tire wile holding the non-operative nozzle down on the valve so all the air escaped. I properly started the compressor and filled their tire. I was their hero.
They obviously thought I was hot and the left smiling and very, very thankful.
My wife was not at all impressed.
I’m not even sure she was aware of what was going on … she was on her cell phone. I filled her tires and we proceeded to the mall.

At the mall, I immediately asked one of those mall cops on a Segway scooter for directions. He moved back and forth while studying his pocket map.
My wife commented … "I’d like one of those."
I made a mental note, but then quickly erased it as I pictured her on one.
At the first store, one that sold baby clothes, we had our first argument, which resulted in me waiting outside the shop. I people watched and had much fun.

We proceeded to the next mall where I was going to visit a watch repair shop owned by a guy who owed me money. (Maybe a story for another time.)
I replaced a battery on one watch and added a new watchband to another, absolutely free.
BOO-YA! ”Who knows how to shop, baby?”
Again, my wife was not impressed.

Next … It was off to Lowes. Why Lowes? I had a $10 off coupon.
That would make our Christmas tree cost $10 less.
Do I know how to shop or what!
Alas … They were all sold out.

Well … I guess we’ll head home.
Yeah right!
"I know a place we can buy a tree."
I followed her lead which took us off my planned route.
We purchased a “Charlie Brown” special for $25.

Well … I guess NOW we can head home.
"Joe, I’d really like a Dunkin’ Donuts coffee."
Of course! Without fail, anytime we hit the road, for whatever reason, she wants to stop for coffee along the way. I think she does it purposely to aggravate me.
Nah! She wouldn’t do that. Would she?

We finally made it home.
Shortly after our arrival our youngest and her husband came by to finish the job I had started when I fell and broke my ribs. Gratefully, my wife and I helped them.
I had to retrieve the notorious ladder out of the shed for them.
"Hello, Mr. Ladder, remember me?"
I swear Mr. Ladder chuckled.

So, that was my Sunday, my day off.
I hope you enjoyed it half as much as I did.
Soon, I should find out who I have as my “Secret Santa”.
Though I’m not a big fan of memes and such, I’m really looking forward to participating in Bee’s, “Secret Santa Can Suck It!” extravaganza.
I wonder who will get me as their Secret Santa? … Stay tuned.

Mr. Mucus Paid a Visit

The little guy above, who some may know as “Mr. Mucus”, has caused me pain and money. How? Well, first of all, I’m sure he had something to do with my recent cough which just about killed me as my broken ribs were healing. Then, it was expensive getting rid of him.
No, I didn’t hire the Orkin Man, he admitted he was no match for Mr. Mucus.

So who is this Mr. Mucus?
He is like the black sheep of the mucus family. I’m sure you are familiar with some of the clan. Like cousin Phlegm who resides in your respiratory tract and his sister, Snot, who lives up your nose. The mucus family really has a lot of members and the live quietly in our bodies performing important jobs like keeping crap out of our lungs, filtering the air we breath and even helping to soften food making it easier to swallow. I’m sure you’re happy I shared that little tidbit.

Now from what I researched, Mr. Mucus is a bully and likes to wreak havoc when our bodies are weak. He likes to mess with Phlegm and loves to screw with Snot.
Sometimes he makes Snot sweat resulting in a continuous flow of liquid Snot running down our nostrils and on to our upper lip. Other times he causes Snot to dry up like an old piece of fruit, blocking the nasal passages and causing us to breathe through our mouths. None of the Mucus family hang out in our mouths unless we hack them up, then it's ... don't swallow ... spit! God knows what enters our lungs when we breathe through our mouths with none of the Mucuses around. During all this, cousin Phlegm is all eff’d up, dazed, confused and walking into lung walls. So we wheeze, cough, spit, sneeze, blow, sniffle and cry. Well, not me, but some people cry.

My personal problem with Mr. Mucus was this …
Just out of the hospital, I couldn’t breathe too well and I was chilled all the time.
Because I was cold, we ran the heat, which is a forced hot air system.
The hot air caused a low humidity level in our home.
Mr. Mucus dropped by to say hello.
My wife had me breathing steam from pots of boiling water with a dishtowel over my head. After a two-minute session, feeling like steamed broccoli, I was able to blow dried fruit out of my nose, making it easy to breathe again.

Mr. Mucus also tickled my throat and caused me with my broken ribs to flop around on the floor after every cough. We finally chased Mr. Mucus away after buying a $175 humidifier.

"Joe, it seems to be raining in the kitchen."
"I told you we bought a good one!"

Pain Killer or Killer Pain

I guess for the longest time I was lucky.
For many years I lived without much physical pain.
My recent incident with a ladder disrupted that run.

A few Sundays ago … Pain said …
"Hello, Joe. Where have you been?"
Since then pain’s been like an unwelcomed guest who just won’t leave.
I’ve tried to be subtle.
"Honey, is it time for my pill yet?"
I tried being stern.
"OMG! What the hell did I do to deserve this pain? Kill me now!"

I never imagined what broken ribs would feel like.
At first it hurt when I took deep breaths, made a sudden movement or reached too high to grab the potato chips off the top shelf in the cabinet.
I was uncomfortable lying down on the bed so I had to sleep upright on the couch.
It was painful when I had to pee. Let me elaborate on that a bit. The actual peeing didn’t hurt but getting up from the couch to get to the bathroom did.

My biggest problem was not the broken ribs or the other bodily bruises resulting from my fall. The excruciating pain I had to deal with was caused by a stupid cough that developed … the next day.
Pain said …
"Hey, Joe. Let’s not waste those narcotics the hospital gave you … TAKE THIS!"
(… then suddenly in my throat) … Pain tickled me.
"Cough."
"Yeeeeeeow! $%#!&"
"Cough. Cough."
"Ohhhhhhh! Mutha-fudger! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

This went on for a week.
I think I broke a couple of ribs on my other side trying not to cough.

I would feel Pain start to tickle.
I’d hold my breath. I’d brace myself.
My wife readied herself as well. I think that each time I coughed she covered her eyes.
"Joe, hold a pillow. It will help!"
"Sweetie, I’ve got the damn pillow, it’s between me and the wall I’m running into. Damn! I can’t hold it any longer!"
"Cough."
"Ohhhhhhh! Fuque me! Ow! Eye-yie-eye!"
"Cough."
"Crap! Huff-huff-huff. Yikes! Jesus Christmas! Ow!"

Finally the cough has subsided.
Maybe now my ribs could finally heal.
Thank God I never had to sneeze!
Amen.