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Sunday, May 31, 2015


It’s time again for
The only thing I miss about commuting...New York Post headlines!

This week’s stupid headlines and my stupider, sometimes sophomoric comments.

One headline may be fake.  Guess the fake and win a mention and a WHOOP-TEE-DOO.  None of the above may be a correct answer.


Comment moderation is on for one day.


Airplane Dumped Human Waste on Girl’s Sweet 16 Party – Now that is a crappy party.

Nine brains found next to New York train tracks – Not so unusual, except there were ten people waiting for the train.

Airline experimenting with reduced rate cramped seating for small passengers – Will we be flying coach, first class, or little ass today?

Ireland backs legalizing gay marriage by a landslide – It is nice they back making gay marriage legal, but that “by a landslide” requirement sounds a bit dangerous to me.

Elephant snatches man's camera, takes 'elphie' – I hate when they take a word and trunkate it.

Prison riot in Brazil ends, leaving 8 inmates dead, one decapitated – Probably will be nine dead because I’m guessing the decapitated dude is not going to make it.

Man loses $15 billion in an hour – And that is exactly why I was against legalizing on-line gambling in New Jersey.

Oregon man asks city to ban the smell of farts – This in a state where you can’t pump your own gas.

Woman ‘offers to lick policeman’s anus’ and now faces bribery charge – That is an offer that can be refused.

Honda Unveils A Motorcycle For People Who Don’t Ride MotorcyclesI have a car without wings for people who don’t fly planes.

New method shows promise for urine cancer testI was not aware that Urine Cancer was a big problem.  Can’t you just piss it out?

Man Wears Suit Made Of 1.1 Million Bees In Attempt To Set World Record – Previous record holder demands a recount.


Last week’s fake was:

Wisconsin police woman claims abduction by aliens - Cop in saucer?


I think it's Wisconsin police woman claims abduction by aliens, unless she was trying to arrest them for going faster than the speed of light!!

Ooh that fishducky…gonna fool her again one of these weeks.  Visit Fran @ She works hard at her posts and it shows…funny stuff!

Fourteen incorrect guesses and one abstention.

Go visit fishducky and





Saturday, May 30, 2015


A cranky opinion for

The following is the opinion of a cranky old man with minimum knowledge on the topic opined.  If you have an opposing opinion it is welcome but will probably be ignored.  If you wear a big stupid black cowboy hat you are welcome to be offended, but ya’ll make fun of us Yankees alla time.  As always, please no name calling, and that means you, you big stupid head with the big stupid black cowboy hat.

I wasn’t going to post a Saturday opinion this week.  I had no opinions.  Then I saw this article.

I don’t know who Clay Walker is.  I know very little about country music.  I enjoy many types of music.  As far as country goes, I like some and hate some.  I do know a dickhead when I see one.  The first clue of a country and western dickhead is the big stupid black cowboy hat.  These dudes will not go anywhere without their big stupid black cowboy hat, and they never take it off. 

What set me off about this Clay Walker is not his big stupid black cowboy hat, it is that he is pissed-off, his words, about old rockers getting into country music. From the wonderful big stupid black cowboy hat wearing Clay Walker,

“We have great singers, great country musicians. There’s no reason we have to dilute it by letting people in the format that don‘t have any business being in the format.”

Who determines who allows others into Clay’s world of country music?  Is Clay upset that these old rockers don’t wear big stupid black cowboy hats?  If I had talent and decided I wanted to try western music would I have to seek out Clay’s permission? 

Clay is worried new Rock and Roll blood will dilute country music.  What does that even mean?  Talented musicians don’t dilute music; they change it, expand it, and improve it.  If it doesn’t improve the music they won’t be successful, so what is the problem.

Hey Clay, it is a free country and people are free to sing it.  I think by dilute you mean competition; well you cannot have a monopoly on music or music styles,  so if you are “pissed-off” because traditional rock and roll musicians are trying their hand at country and western music maybe you should just STFU! 

Your stupid is showing underneath that big stupid black cowboy hat.

The preceding was the opinion of a cranky old man and not necessarily that of management…Mrs. Cranky.

Friday, May 29, 2015

Dating Lessons

Dating Lessons

When I was but a young lad and wanted to impress a young lady, I always dressed my best.  I showered, applied several layers of deodorant, splashed on gobs of aftershave, and slicked my hair down so it wouldn’t move out of place.

I would wear my favorite shoes with my favorite pair of socks, my favorite shirt and my favorite pair of pants. 

Sometimes I would not see that young lady again. 

If I did win a second date I would first be told,

“Its, going to be cool out, so don’t worry about…you know…the heat and stuff, and we will be inside so you won’t need much aftershave, and I like your white socks and the striped shirt and those plaid pants, but I’ll bet you’d look nice with dark socks and a solid shirt.”

If the young lady really liked me, by the third date she might say,

 “Listen, go light on the deodorant, I hate ‘English Leather’, never wear white socks with long pants, stripes and checks make you look like a clown, and for crap sake, stop with the grease and let your hair be natural! You don’t have any sisters do you?”

I learned that if I wanted a fourth date I'd damn well better follow directions.


Thursday, May 28, 2015

A Hole Lot Of Trouble

A Hole Lot Of Trouble

My son won a few dollars with a third place finish in an entry to the TV show “America’s Funniest Home Video.”  He used the money to splurge on a fancy basketball hoop for his kids…and, mostly for himself.  He got the best heavy duty adjustable backboard set he could find.

This backboard of thick heavy glass attaches to a large steel post which needs to be bolted to a slab of concrete in a four foot hole 21 inches square.  The lad did not want to waste a full Saturday day off from work digging a hole and he wanted to be sure it was done right; so flush with “AFV” prize money he contracted with a local company that specializes in just such basketball pole installation.

They came and in one half day dug the hole, filled it with concrete and prepared it for pole attachment.  Labor done, money well spent.


When Matt calculated the amount of dirt they left from digging the hole he realized the hole was not dug deep enough and wide enough.  It turns out they dug to the specifications of lighter basket installation.

He called and questioned the contractor on the hole.

“Oh it will be fine; those specs are always over the top.  That hole is fine, and that pole won’t budge come hell or high water.”

My son said, “That’s just great, but I did contract for the larger hole that the directions specified.”

“That pole ain’t goin no wheres, I guarantee it!”

“That’s great, as long as you guarantee it.”

“I do.”

“Could you just put that in writing?”

“You don’t trust me?”

“Well, I have known you for twenty minutes, but I would like it in writing.  You know, just in case it topples over and crushes a car, or a kid.”

“I’ll have to check with the office.”

Today, two weeks later, they came back to dig out the concrete and dig a new larger, up to specifications hole.  My son was expecting it to be done on this Wednesday so he could erect the pole and backboard on the weekend when he could gather several neighbors to help.  The backboard is very heavy and very cumbersome.

As it was Grandpa Joe Wednesday, I was at his home to supervise.

They dug out the old hole and started a new hole (my son asked for a slightly different location.)  They got down about two feet of the required four feet and then filled the hole with water.

“We’ll be back on Saturday.  The dirt is too dry and hard to dig; the water will soften it up.”

So now the basket cannot be put up for another nine days when there will be available help.

Not surprisingly, my son is a bit miffed. 

I must admit I’d never heard of people who dig holes for a living taking multiple days to dig a four foot hole regardless of how dry the dirt is.  I installed sprinkler systems for three summers when I was home from college.  Ninety percent of the job was digging holes.  We ran into rocks, and sometimes had to tunnel under walks.  We never found a hole we couldn’t dig.

Matt thinks these guys are screwing with him in retaliation for his complaining about their specifications error. 

I’m inclined to agree.

It’s a hole.  It really is not that hard for people whose job it is to dig a hole, to dig a hole!

Wednesday, May 27, 2015


I hope to never move to a “Senior Community” or even worse an assisted living home.  There is a lot to be said for a Senior/Retirement community, and if need be, assisted living beats the heck out of being left alone and vulnerable.

My objection to both these living arrangements is there are too many old people in these venues.  Mind you, I love old people.  I am an old people myself; it is just that hanging with old people makes you...well...old!

The way to stay young is to hang around young people. 

I became a father for the fourth time when I was 52.  When I was with my son, and other young fathers, I felt younger than 52.  Because I had a young child, the actual young people treated me as if I was also young.  It helps to feel young if people treat you as if you actually are young.

As my young son grew, I was forced to do young things.  Throw a ball, catch a ball, coach youth teams, and even run from time to time.

When I was 60, I associated not with other 60 year olds, but with other parents of 8 year olds.  Occasionally I may have been referred to as “The Old Fart,” but I was still mostly one of the younger crowd.  Talk was of little league, fractions, grade school, teacher conferences, you know…young stuff.  I felt young and almost spry.

When my oldest brother was ill, I paid a visit to him in North Carolina.  I went to his Granddaughter’s music recital and a party afterwards.  I found myself mingling with parents of young children, parents the same age as my crowd back in Jersey, only now I was introduced as Grandpa’s brother.  I was treated by these young people like a Grandpa, like an old person. 

I immediately felt old.

By the time I went back to Jersey, I had arthritis in my hip, I gained ten pounds, and what hair I had was graying around the edges.

I recovered a little, but when my son was taken off to Massachusetts because Jersey Judges suck, I lost my youth attachment.  When he does visit, he is a teenager now and teens will always make you age. 

Old people and teenagers are the fountain of elderly.

The only thing that could make me feel older is if on my next birthday I am told patronizingly that I am 70 years YOUNG.  Nothing says they just dropped the landing gear on your airplane of life then to be told you are xx years YOUNG!

Anyway, the youth thing was a good run while it lasted.  I gotta stop writing now; it’s time for my nap.

Tuesday, May 26, 2015



I am not generally an angry person.  I may be cranky about a lot of things, but I am not often driven off the edge and into the abyss of disgust and rage.  But I can only be pushed so far.  A corporation has done it and I am angry.

Is it Monsanto and their Frankenfoods that threaten the very existence of the human race?  Naw, I’m OK with them.  Is it the oil industry and their control of oil prices that destroy our economy?  Does fracking and the potential of a contaminated water table and destructive earthquakes get my lather up?  No, I believe the experts, it’s all fine.  Does the war mongering defense industry and their made up global threats for the sake of profit set me off.  Not really. 

But one company has finally done it and I am angry.

What kind of corporation would turn husband against wife?  Why would any organization purposefully deceive people and ruin relationships for their own amusement?

What has got Cranky incensed?

In a recent post I spoke of my difficulty opening packages and the resultant argument it started with Mrs. Cranky:

You don’t have to read it, in summary, I opened a package of Little Bites Muffins with scissors because I could not open them by tearing where the package says to tear them.  Mrs. Cranky thought using scissors was wrong and that I should follow the directions.  We spent fifteen minutes of marital discord all because of the Little Bites package deception.  I now find out the reason for my problem.  Apparently women know the secret but will not share it.  They prefer to mock husbands, and the corporation that packages Little Bites is only too happy to continue the charade.  

DAMN YOU Entenmann’s!

Look at the package.  See where their instructions tell you to tear?  Try as hard as you want, the package will not open if ripped on the arrows.  The correct spot to tear the Little Bites is three quarters of an inch to the right.  My wife knows this, but she wouldn’t tell me.  I discovered the secret by accident. 

Well now the secret is out. Pass it on to other unsuspecting scissor welding husbands. I’ll wager Entenmann’s is not the only company in on this sham…I will be testing my discovery on other seemingly un-openable packages. 

I plan to expose all these man hating corporations.


Monday, May 25, 2015

I WAS A MILK SPILLER - a cranky re-run

This re-run is from May 2013 

As a young boy I used to often think, “When am I going to stop spilling milk?”  At least three times a week at dinner, I would reach for something and knock over my glass of milk.

I wasn’t a bed wetter, I was a milk spiller.  I don’t know which would be worse.  The bed wetter can’t really be blamed for his accident; he was asleep for crispy sake.  The milk spiller is awake and just careless.  The bed wetter does not get yelled at, or at least he shouldn’t get yelled at, the milk spiller is responsible for his mess.

Bed wetter’s are cleaned up and cuddled by mom.  They are told it is all right, that you’ll grow out of it. 

Milk spillers get yelled at. 

“Watch what you’re doing!  Damn, when are you going to learn there is a glass of milk between you and the butter dish?”

Milk spillers have to clean up their mess.

“Get some towels and clean up this mess!”

As I cleaned up the mess I wondered, “When am I ever going to stop milk spilling?” 

I never spilled the milk on purpose. I tried not to spill it, but then suddenly I had a desperate need for some salt and reached for it without thinking and in slow motion I see my sleeve hit the glass, the milk spill out and I hear my dad yell out, “J O E…T  h  e    m  i  l  k  !”

Or, I asked to be excused and pushed myself away from the table too hard and toppled the glass, or I tripped while clearing the table.  It was mortifying.  I was afraid to go out to eat, and I turned down invitations from friends to stay for dinner.

I wonder, was I the only one so inflicted?  I finally grew out of the problem but not until the age of at least ten. 

For a while I was afraid my milk spilling period would scar* me for life, fortunately it did not. 

Of course I no longer drink milk with dinner, just an occasional sippy-cup of wine.

*Damn Microsoft I know I can’t spell, but when you tell me scar is wrong and suggest scare, then I try skar and you suggest scar…WTF!

Sunday, May 24, 2015


It’s time again for



 This week’s stupid headlines and my stupider, sometimes sophomoric comments.

One headline may be fake.  Guess the fake and win a mention and a WHOOP-TEE-DOO.  None of the above may be a correct answer.

Comment moderation is on for one day.


Nigerian restaurant shut down for serving human flesh – People got suspicious when the menu had Filet Moulinyan and Croquettes de Caucasian.

Al Sharpton’s daughter reportedly sues NYC for $5M after spraining ankle – At least she waited until after she sprained her ankle to sue.

Why do men exist? Scientific study offers an explanationTurns out that without men women can’t reproduce which does not work out very well for the continuation of any species. 

Out of 136 online dates, this woman gets no second dateWoman scientist is apparently too busy studying why men exist.

Walmart's profits hurt by wage hike for employees – Pissing off the stock holders makes it official, now EVERYBODY hates Wal-Mart!

Wisconsin police woman claims abduction by aliens - Cop in saucer?

Michigan police clock speeder doing 153 mph in Dodge station wagon – Apparently the kids were late for school.

More sex can make you less happy – Especially if it is your partner and someone else.

Teacher Arrested for letting Students Have Sex in His Classroom – Crap, we couldn’t even chew gum!

US sending 1,000 rockets to boost Iraqi forces in ISIS fight – Rockets! That is quite a boost.  Wouldn’t they be more mobile in tanks and humvees?

Why we should beware of the number 2,147,483,647 – It doesn’t scare me; in fact I have always considered this to be my lucky number.

Capitol Police set for toilet training after breaking ‘rule number one,’ leaving guns in lavatories – This is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for fighting, this is for number one…but how do you leave it in the bathroom?

California busts $14M scheme to bring cans, bottles in from Arizona for recycling – “NEWMAN!!”

Semi Crash Spills Millions of Bees On Washington Highway – Good thing it wasn’t a full crash!


Last week’s fake was:

Nebraska man has pinky toe transplant to replace injured ear – He is still deaf on that side, but complains of hearing “wee wee wee” on his way home.


I think it would take a big toe to replace an ear, not a pinkie toe.

sheesh. i got nuttin... gonna choose pinky-toe for ear replacement, crank.

To Nebraska man has pinky toe transplant to replace injured ear, I say, "What?"

I am going with "Nebraska man has pinky toe transplant to replace injured ear" for this week. It would make a really cool ear.

I have to take the Pinky Toe Ear as fake. They're not even similar! It's not like a big toe becoming a thumb, or growing a fake ear under the skin of your forearm. I know that can be done, but I've never seen a pinky toe ear. It won't know whether to secrete wax or toe jam!

I'm gonna say the pinky toe; I've heard of big toes being transplanted for thumbs, but a pinky toe and and ear. . . they don't match up. . .

Nebraska man has pinky toe transplant to replace injured ear is my pick. It doesn't even make sense Cranky.


Go visit all the winners and tell them this one was too easy!



Saturday, May 23, 2015


A cranky opinion for
The following is the opinion of a cranky old man with little knowledge on the subject opined.  It is an opinion that I could easily be swayed against, so opposing views are welcome.  As always, please, no name calling, and that means you, you big stupid head!
I know very little about the Middle East.  Does anyone really understand this area? What I do know, or at least think I know is this:
The predominant religion in this area is Islam.  There is a very small minority of Christians.  The only non-Muslim country is Jewish Israel.  Religion is very, very important in this area.  The Muslims hate the Christians.  The Muslims really hate the Jews.  The Muslims hate all the other Muslims who belong to different Muslim sects.
There is a ton of oil in this area.  There is a ton of money in this area that comes from the oil.  Only a very small minority of the people in the oil rich countries are fabulously wealthy.  Everyone else is poor, really poor, they are “I don’t give a crap poor.”  People who are "I don't give a crap poor," people with little hope of anything else are very dangerous people.
Israel has no oil.  Israel manages to grow stuff in a desert.  Israel is productive without oil.   Israel seem to be prosperous.  Israel only manages to exist in the middle of a bunch of countries that all want to destroy it because they are friggin tough.
A new group of fanatical Muslims is now trying to take over the whole area.  They destroy whatever they touch and kill anyone they just feel like killing. They like to kill Christians.  They really like to kill Jews.  They will kill Muslims that think differently from them.  They kill homosexuals, they kill women who don’t cover-up, and in general they kill whomever they feel like killing.  They seem to enjoy the killing and the more violent the killing the more they like it.
The current US administration does not want to get their hands dirty and stop this killing.  Previous administrations tried to stop this type of activity; they apparently only managed to stop one group but left the door open for this new group to take over. 
The situation in the Middle East is a mess.  The mentality of the US is see a mess, clean it up.  We don’t seem to know how to clean up this mess.  It seems like the people in the Middle East want the mess.  They don’t know anything else.  Maybe we need to just step back and let them figure it out for themselves.  Stand by Israel, the only country in the area that seems to have their stuff together, and let the rest of the chips fall where they may.
It won’t be pretty.  We will feel guilty for all the bad stuff that goes down.  People will hate us for not cleaning up the mess.  People in this area hate us anyway.  They always have, and probably always will.
But we need the oil?
We can suck it up and do without for a while…that shit just heats up the planet anyway.
I think the only solution in the Middle East is to not interfere.  Let the people of the Middle East just keep doing what they do best.  Murder, maim and destroy.  Maybe after a bunch of years there won’t be anyone left to murder and hate.  Maybe those that are left will get tired of murder, maiming and destroying. Like a disease that has no cure, but goes away when the only people left are resistant to the virus, this may be the only way to end the virus of hate in the Middle East.
I don’t like this idea.  I’d rather just go in and clean up the mess, but we’ve tried and only made things worse.  If we let them alone in the Middle East they may be too busy murdering, maiming and destroying in their own lands to be bothered with the rest of the world.
I don’t like it, but since nothing seems to work, maybe we should just do nothing.
The preceding was the opinion of a cranky old man, and not necessarily that of management...Mrs. Cranky

Friday, May 22, 2015


I learned something today while minding my littlest Crankette.  Connor, the almost five year old, shamed me into playing some games with him.

“Why you always playin on the puter?”

“What should I be doing?”

“We play some games?”

“Oh…ah sure, what game?”

Connor pulled out some games.  We first played “Connect Four” an interesting kind of fancy tic tac toe game.  I was very competitive and won two in a row, but I didn’t rub it in and actually let him think each game was a tie.  We then switched to a different game and this is where Conor taught me something.

We played “Don't Break The Ice."  In this game you build an ice skating rink out of little plastic blocks.  When that is done, you take turns knocking out the blocks of ice.  Eventually when you knock out one block the whole thing comes down along with a little skater dude.  The winner is the one who doesn’t knock down the skater dude.


Building the rink takes longer then knocking it down.  As we were putting it together I had no idea what the game was about. I asked Connor as we locked in these pieces of “ice”,

“What do you do to win this game?”

Now I am not a big believer in games where everyone wins and no one keeps score.  I am not an advocate of “Everyone gets a trophy” and I was never one for believing in that old saw “Out of the mouths of babes.” However Connor hit me with a concept that only an almost five year old could deliver.

“This is not a winning game, this is a having fun game.”

Competition is great, but there is nothing wrong, especially when you are almost five, with just having fun.

I will never be a professional golfer, not even on the senior circuit.  I will never be one of the best bowlers in my league.  I will never write a bestselling book or even be published.  I will never be able to play guitar well enough to perform to an audience.  There is nothing at this stage of my life where I will ever be immensely successful.  Just like an almost five year old that is still too small to expect to win; I am past the age of winning.

So now when I miss a short putt, blow an easy spare, write a mediocre blog post, or just cannot put together a clean guitar chord progression I will remember my almost five year olds words of wisdom and not be frustrated.  Instead I will remember that the game of life ultimately “Is not a winning game, it is a having fun game.”