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Thursday, February 26, 2015

WHERE IS THIS BEING PLAYED


WHERE IS THIS BEING PLAYED
Why do women always have to know where a sporting event is being played?  A woman walks in the room while a game of any sport is on the TV and they always ask,

“Where is this being played?”

Generally as soon as a woman finds out where the game is being played she asks two more questions and then just walks out of the room.

I used to think women wanted to know so they could see what the weather was like in another part of the country.  Apparently that is not true because they will also ask at a basketball game.   They can’t learn anything about the weather in an indoor venue.

Then I thought, maybe they want to know which team is the home team, even though they usually don’t know who is playing;  that is their  second question, followed by who is wearing the blue uniforms.  Then they leave the room.

Recently I was watching a bowling tournament (don’t judge, there is nothing else but meaningless basketball games and figure skating this time of the year) and Mrs. C asked me,

“Where is this being played?”

“I don’t know where it is being played.  What is the difference?  You can’t tell anything about the weather, and there is no home team…it’s bowling.”

Now comes the kind of woman’s response that forever has me scratching my head:

“You never know, I might see someone in the crowd that I know.”

“WHAT?”

 “Depending where the match is being played, I might know someone who is watching… and it drives me crazy that you don’t even know where they are.”

“This is bowling, there are about 75 people watching, there is no crowd,” and why is it so important to know where these bowling lanes are? They throw a ball at a bunch of pins, do you think they have to factor in the humidity and stuff.”

“You’re a jerk!”

Hint: The name of the team is on their jerseys, the logo on the field will tell you where the game is being played, the blue team will have their name on the shirts, and if it is bowling,

“Who gives a crap?”

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

THE BUG


THE BUG
When I graduated from college, I bought a brand new VW Bug.  It cost $1600. It listed for less, but I paid extra for a radio and undercoating.  I put down $200, my pop paid the rest.  When I got a job, I gave him $200 a month and it was fully paid for by Christmas.

My 1968 bug had 53 horsepower and could reach speeds of almost 65 MPH…80 if going downhill.  The air cooled engine never overheated.  The rear engine positioned extra weight over large (for the size of the car) rear drive tires, giving it excellent traction in the snow.  The Bug got me through high water (they claim the damn thing could float) and heavy snow.  I never got stuck.

The best thing about the Bug was it was a friendly car.  It was cute.  It was unintimidating.  I was never challenged to drag race at a stop light.  The Bug had a friendly horn, a cute little beep-beep.  I used the horn often, and no one ever shot me that middle finger salutation.

My Dad bought a VW Bug in 1955.  There were almost no Bugs on the road in 1955.  Whenever you did pass another Bug, both cars would respond with a beep-beep greeting.  In 1968, when I bought my Bug, there were millions on the road.  I passed other Bugs all the time; still the beep-beep tradition was followed.

I think the best thing about my Bug is it was an anti-road rage car.  It was impossible to get angry at the Bug.  When I went up a hill and couldn’t go faster than 50 MPH, the cars behind would never get angry.  They knew it was not my fault, it’s a Bug!

I miss my Bug; I sold it for $50 when it was twenty four years old and it was still running as good as ever.  Well almost as good as ever.  To this day I am still sorry I sold it.

The world was a better place when the Bug was in production.  With the Bug off the road, driver courtesy has disappeared.   The road has not been the same since the piece-sign painted, plastic-daisy on the antennae Bugs left it.

My roots are half German.  I am told the German people are a strict, rigid, serious people.  The Bug was the exact opposite of those stereotypes.

Germany gave us Hitler, but it also gave us THE BUG.

Beep-Beep! 

KARMA IS A BITCH


KARMA IS A BITCH

My son is a prankster.   He has fooled me with fake lottery tickets, fake poker hand set ups, tall stories and such stuff.  He loves to video pranks and capture people's faces when they are startled. 

He did not get this trait from me.  I like to joke, I like to laugh, but I am not so big on practical jokes and scaring the beejeepers out of people.

He got this from his mom.  His mom’s favorite day of the year is April first.  She would “April Fool” people all day long.  She got me several times every April first, and I’m sure she April fooled the children all day as well.

Anyway, my son loves this kind of stuff and guess what; KARMA is in fact a bitch.

He has a Go-Pro thing and takes videos of just about everything from workout instructions, nutrition suggestions for kids, pranks, and yes, working on his car.

My Crankette grandson has his grandma’s practical joke DNA, and has learned a few tricks from his dad.

This  40 second video captures the truth in the saying “Karma is a Bitch!”




Thank you Karma!