I bet it is really confusing, when a mother bear scolds her cub for going around with no shoes.

   The latest craze, and I do mean craze, in cheap advertising annoys me to no end.  If you haven’t seen these people standing, or dancing on street corners, pedaling  everything from tax services to precious metals purchasing, then you live on the moon…I bet it’s nice there.  Nothing makes me feel more secure, than entrusting my taxes to a homeless person in a foam rubber Statue of Liberty costume.  I don’t know what these places pay their talent, but it’s not enough, and too much, at the same time.

I know that I am not in these stores’ demographic, but seriously, who sees these poor people, standing out in the elements for hours on end, dancing or sign spinning, and thinks, “This is somebody I want to do business with!”

Now granted, I have seen this idea work in the short term.  When a certain pizza or sandwich place, or a cell phone store has a grand opening, I have no problem with the people that actually work in the establishment, coming out and showing their enthusiasm by holding signs and barking at potential customers.  These glorified pawn shops and tax services advertise like this non-stop!  At least the tax service loonies are only seasonal.

Look, I don’t think I’m better than anybody, liar, but I wouldn’t do this, I wouldn’t make somebody else do this, and I will not do business with a ‘company’ that does this.  I guess I’ll have to go sell me booty somewhere else.

   Man, what an honor!  When I pulled into the Kroger parking lot, I had no idea that I was about to have a brush with greatness.  He pulled up and parked right next to me!  He looked like a regular guy: Who knew? 

I jumped out of my car, ran up to him, introduced myself and congratulated him.  He was so modest!  He acted like he had no earthly idea what I was talking about!  I thanked him for his service, and asked what I could do to be more like him.  He was obviously embarassed by all the attention, because he nervously turned, and ran towards the store. 

   Someday, maybe I’ll be in the running.  I don’t even know how to enter the contest.  I guess you have to be nominated or something.

It says "World's Greatest Dad", and smells good too.

  I just watched an amazing special about Pythons invading Florida.  Between people releasing overgrown pets, and hurricanes destroying pet stores, these giant snakes are becoming a real problem. In the Keys, there is an endangered species called the Key Largo Wood Rat.  Scientists are monitoring the situation, waiting to see if the snakes start invading the Keys.  They have developed a Python trap, that holds a rat in a small cage, inside a larger cage. The snake crawls into the larger cage and can’t get out, or eat the rat.
  

This just in…Heart disease in rats is at an all-time high.

So…I hear that a Killer Whale is responsible for the death of a trainer at Sea World.  Does this come as a huge surprise to anyone?  Did we think that ‘Killer Whale’ was some kind of opposite nickname; like calling someone that’s really tall, Shorty?
   From what I’ve heard, the Orca pulled the trainer underwater, by her ponytail, and kept her under until she drowned.  Orcas are smart, but I don’t think they understand that humans can’t stay underwater as long as they can.  This whole thing sounds like a legitimate accident…until you find out that this was the THIRD death associated with this animal!

“Boys, sounds like we got us a serial killer on our fins.”

Whether unfounded or not, I’m always anxious when I pay with a card at dinner.  Here’s one scenario I imagined…
 
Our waitress walked up, after we finished our dinner, and asked, “Did we save room for dessert?”.

“No way,” I responded, “We are stuffed!”

She persisted, “Well, how about an after dinner drink, or a cup of coffee?”.

“No thanks, we are done.  It was delicious!” I said has I handed her my card.  “Go ahead and close us out, please.”

A few minutes later, our waitress sheepishly returned.  “Sir I’m sorry, but your card was declined.”

I replied, “Well in that case, I’ll have a bottle of your finest Scotch!”

   I consider myself a modern day, court jester.  I live solely to make people laugh, anyone will do.       
   Jesters had it pretty rough in olden times.  Basically, they said things to Royalty, that no-one else could, in order to gain a laugh.  If a jester went too far over the line, or caught the King in a foul mood, he could easily be separated from his post…and his head,  for that matter.
  Times haven’t changed much, other than the uniform and the audience.  I don’t care who I make laugh, be it peasant or nobility, as long as somebody gets it.  Now jesters only die figuratively, for bad jokes.  I have told my wife, (my unwilling straight-woman), many, many times that ‘to get a few hits, you’ve got to have many misses.’  (Scroll through my archives, you’ll see what I mean.).  I’ve always said that even if one only amuses himself, he is still considered amusing.  I’ve pretty much made an emotional living off of self deprecating humor…Unfortunately, I was listening. 
  In other words, we jesters are quite fragile, so if you like anything you read, please let me know.  Either leave a comment, or pass a link along to a friend(s).  If nothing on here amuses you, then get the hell off of my website, you’re trespassing!  (I’m just kidding, please stay.  I told you I was fragile!)

Again, thanks for stopping by and I bid you adieu.

(It’s not a mistake, I used ‘surly’ in the title in place of surely…it’s a play on words, jesters aren’t always happy.)

   Many toys today, have a new trick up their sleeve.  Every time my daughter finishes playing with one toy and moves on to another one, the old toy gets jealous and tries to win her back.  These toys will say something or make a prompting noise, after being left alone for a period of time.  Elmo will try a couple of times before finally threatening to take a nap.  This is a pretty annoying trick that toy companies have come up with that takes advantage of a child’s short attention span.  Children should be allowed to decide their favorites based on the toys themselves, not due to a psychological trick!  I have seen my daughter choose a book, only to be interrupted by some buttinsky toy.  Luckily, she usually only looks up for a moment, and then returns to her reading.  One of the toys just told us it was time to change her batteries!  Until that toy sounds like Darth Vader on horse tranquilizers, she’s not getting new batteries!
   These ‘smart’ toys aren’t only affecting my daughter.  Every night when I go to bed, one of the toys will yell at me as I walk by, and scare the bejesus out of me.
   Who knows what the next generation of ‘smart’ toys will do.  Slight hypnosis?  Electric shock?  Pheromones?  I miss the old days, when you couldn’t put a toy down, just because it was fun.

   I was doing a little last minute shopping at Best Buy the other night, and resolved that I would stay there until I found everything I needed or they kicked me out.  In one of my many treks, back and forth across the store, I passed a man in an electric wheelchair. 
   I finally finished my shopping and noticed this on the way out.

Picture is at a bad angle. It was much steeper in person. I'm firing my photographer.

   I am not the brightest bulb in the bunch, but I did put two and two together and decided this was the gentleman in the electric wheelchair’s vehicle.  I have loaded plenty of equipment onto trailers, and was scared to death every       time.    I couldn’t help but be impressed and amazed, imagining that courageous man, driving his wheelchair up that steep, treacherous ramp. 
  As I was driving home, it occurred to me that he probably isn’t in the chair when it is loaded.

   It’s finally here.  Christmas.  All the stressing out is over; trying to find this toy or that purse, spending as much as I can without putting us into ruin, getting everything wrapped and not being late, etc., etc…  You know, everything that’s so important around Christmastime.
   So I’m sitting here complaining, and tediously untying all of these little gray plastic coated wires, that are perfectly tied around each specific point on all my daughters new toys, holding them to their boxes, when I start thinking…Who tied these?  I start looking at the knots and how many there are on one toy, and how many of these toys are sold world-wide?  Manyof the toys we buy are manufactured in China, probably in sweat shops, and I think about the fingers that tied the wires, that I am now undoing.  Probably a cute little Chinese girl, not much older than my daughter, but an expert at tying little wire ties together, in the way she has been meticuously trained.  Her little calloused fingers, making knots, that we will soon undo.  She doesn’t even imagine the fleeting pleasure that will be experienced, due to her tedious, abusive labors.  I don’t think she get’s Christmas off…or any time off.  She works, eats, sleeps, then does it all again, day after day.  She probably wouldn’t be upset because 1 of her 30+ toys wasn’t exactly what she wanted.  She would most likely be satisfied just to see her family again.  Kind of puts it all into perspective…Merry Christmas!