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Wednesday, November 30, 2016

It’s Your Job!

It’s Your Job!
Whenever I post on the strange behaviors of Mrs. Cranky, I am not necessarily complaining.  Some of her “different” habits merely interest me, they do not bother me. 
One that has me baffled is the separating and disposal of recyclable paper, particularly mail, flyers, papers, and leaflets.  All mail, flyers, papers and leaflets are left on the kitchen table for perusal.  Mrs. Cranky goes through these items and determines which are junk and need to be placed in the recyclable box.  It is my job to place them in the box.
Not complicated, not unusual, unless you are privy to the flow of this whole process.
All mail, flyers, papers and leaflets are dropped off on said kitchen table by whomever brings in the mail from the mail box, driveway or front door.  The recyclable paper bin is a cardboard box on a counter about three yards from the kitchen table drop off spot.  Mrs. C takes those items destined for disposal, rips them in half and leaves them about two feet from the drop off spot, to another corner of the table, the designated disposal area, where it is my job to move the recyclable trash another two feet to the recyclable disposal box.
It is not as if, mind you, I am at the table when she is sorting the mail, flyers, papers and leaflets.  That might make sense.  She sorts, rips and then hands them to me to drop in the disposal box.  No, that is not the way of things.  The sorting and ripping are done by Mrs. Cranky when I am not around.  You would think she could simply set aside the disposables and after sorting and ripping pick them up and reach over another two feet to drop in the disposal box.  You would think wrong.
Right hand corner is drop off for sorting.  Left hand corner is for recyclable disposal.  Under the wall socket on the counter, left of the disposal pile, is the recyclable box,
It is apparently my job to discard recyclables, so they are left for me to see the next time I am at the table.  It is up to me to pick up those torn recyclable papers, reach over and drop them in the disposal box.
When I ask her why she doesn’t just drop them in the box herself her answer without hesitation is,
“It’s your job.”
It is not a problem, I don’t mind, I’m not always a jerk. 
I do find it interesting.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016



Have you ever heard of “Click Bait?”  If you are under 65 of course you have.  If you are an older fart like myself, you may not know what it is.  Probably I am the last person on Earth to learn about this scam.  I just learned about click bait, so as a public service I will explain in case others are as clueless as I am.

Click bait is when some internet jack-hole sucks you into clicking onto an interesting story.  These jack-holes make money when you check out the ads on their page.  They further grab you by posting small parts of the story, forcing you to keep clicking “Next” to see more. 

When you try to click “Next”, their ads pop up all over the place.  You think you are clicking “next” instead you open up an ad for boner pills.(What?  The ads are usually based on your previous searches.) Christian books.

It is frustrating as hell trying to read one of these articles, but, dammit they are interesting.

Today I was reading an article from “The News Place” or some such official looking source.  It was about an 11-year-old girl who several years ago was found floating on a small raft in the ocean.

After about five “Next” clicks, and several boner pill Christian book ads, I was getting pissed.  They were only posting one paragraph of the story  on each page.

Frustrated, I went to Google and Googled the girls name.  The first choice offered was a Readers Digest article about this girl. 

It was the same article. 

“The News Place” copied the “Readers Digest” article word for word.

From now on, when one of these jack holes sucks me into an interesting story I will go straight to Google.

Click that Jack-Holes!!

Monday, November 28, 2016

The Trouble With Blogging

The Trouble With Blogging

I like blogging, I really do, but it does have its drawbacks.  One of the nice things is you make so many friends.  You never meet these friends, well occasionally some bloggers do, but for the most part they become long distance friends, kind of like pen pals.

This same nice thing also becomes one of the not nice things about blogging.  You lose some of these friends.  You lose some friends because they pass away, I have lost two blogging friends this way.  Some blogging friends simply stop blogging and don’t bother to say good bye.  You often never know if they just moved on or if something bad happened.

One of my favorite bloggers, one who quite honestly, I have had a minor blogmance with, has not posted in over a year.  She is elderly and was losing her eyesight so perhaps she just cannot post or comment anymore.  I am afraid to find out.

This is the problem with blogging.  There is much sadness in life, I don’t really want to be subject to more potential bad news.  When a fellow blogger loses a pet, suffers a fall, or needs an operation, we all worry or feel grief.  When a blogging parent passes away we feel the pain and when a social media friend’s child suffers we also suffer a little.

Recently a blogging friend’s son fell asleep and drove his car 70 mph off the road while on his way home from college.  I have a son who just started college, I can only imagine her worry. The car was totaled, the son miraculously survived unharmed.  Just reading about it gave me an extra gray hair or two.

Having blogging friends from all around the world is a terrific thing.  Sharing their worry and suffering is the one trouble with blogging.

Sunday, November 27, 2016


This cranky re-run is from November 2012 

Several years ago, while still married to Mrs. Wife #2, we went on vacation to Kauai Hawaii.  The flight out took about twelve hours and by the time we landed at the airport we were well past travel weary.  We rented a car and were assured the hotel where we were booked was less than twenty minutes away.

The rent-a-car lady, a local, gave us directions to the hotel.

“Take the main highway east, and look for a left turn at Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive*.  Drive two miles and then turn right at Lookeymakooky Way, and the hotel will be on your left.  Can’t miss it!"

We packed our luggage and easily found the main highway east.  As we past every possible left hand turn we looked for Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive.  Surely it was impossible to miss a sign for Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive.  Thirty miles later it was quite evident that we did in fact miss Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive. 

Mrs. Wife #2 was not good with missed directions on a normal day.  After a twelve hour flight her head started to spin and she was hacking out green “exorcist-like” sputum.  I hated when she did that.

We called the hotel and they confirmed that we missed the turn for Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive.  They gave us directions to back track and we did in fact find the hotel thirty minutes later.

While unpacking the car it soon became apparent that I had left a dress bag at the airport…more head spinning and green sputum spitting ensued.

The next morning after being called every name in the book and a few which would require an addendum to “The Book,” I set out to the airport to recover the forgotten bag.

On the way I was determined to find where I missed the turn off to Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive.  It did not take long. With my eyeballs refreshed from resting after the twelve hour flight (my eyes were rested, but I did wake up with a new asshole; one of many new assholes Mrs. Wife #2 ripped for me during our twelve years of marriage) I spotted Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive.

Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive was clearly marked on a three inch by fourteen inch sign which was hanging under a two foot by five foot sign which identified ROUTE 35as the other name for Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive.   

I kinda wished that local Kauai car rental clerk might have mentioned that Kawanakeelookyfishducky Drive was also known as ROUTE 35 !!

It might have saved me some head spinning, green sputum spitting name calling, and let me keep my old asshole.

*A post by that fabulous blogger, fishducky ,  reminded me of this story.     

Saturday, November 26, 2016

Stupid Headlines 112716

Stupid Headlines 112716
It is time again for


Stupid Headline Sunday
This week’s stupid headlines and my stupider, sometimes sophomoric comments. 
Black Friday is dying a slow death – And a certain newspaper columnist and freelance writer in Massachusetts is doing his “Happy Dance!”

Robbery goes awry in Austria after suspect finds bank closed – Gun-check; Hood-check, note to teller-check, time the bank opens…ah, soon?
Today's turkeys are monstrous super birds, more than twice as big as in 1929 – Duh…Inflation!

Kentucky man sues after turned down for 'IM GOD' license plate – Hasn’t this jack-hole ever heard of the Constitution?  Separation of church and plate?  Hello!

Town renames Good Friday for the sake of "Cultural Sensitivity" - The day Christ was nailed to a cross will now be called “Important for Christians, but no big deal for everyone else Friday.”
Chanukah – Will be known as “Jew Candle Time.”
Ramadan – Will be called “No food for Muslims month.”
Dominican funeral home offers Black Friday bargains – And all products carry a lifetime guarantee.
Bills ban dildo throwers for life from home games – It’s football, I can understand a fake kick, but a fake…?
Man Guilty of Making Off With $165K of Gold in His Butt – Puts a new meaning to “Filthy rich!” He was found guilty by (and this is for real) wait for it…Judge Peter Doody 
Massachusetts police say woman tried to use pizza as ID to enter bar – Who hasn’t mistakenly handed over a slice of pizza instead of their driver’s license at one time or another?  Wait this was to get in the bar…never mind.
Justin Bieber appears to punch fan in the face – I wonder how much he was paid for that appearance?
CBS Trolls Aretha Franklin's Long National Anthem with Time of Possession Chart – Regardless of what you thought of Aretha’s performance (I think she took a chance on a tough song and mangled it, but that’s just me) this stat is really funny:

A Bank Error Put $4.6 Million In This Girl’s Account and She Spent $3.3 Million Before Getting Caught! – She spent almost $1 million on pocketbooks alone…maybe not the brightest bulb in the lamp.
And the feel good headline of the week: ZIP
I’ve been searching and I’ve got nothing.
 Come back next week for more

Friday, November 25, 2016

We Just Need An Hour

We Just Need An Hour

A cranky opinion



The following is the opinion of a cranky old man with little regard for common sense or sensibilities.  Other opinions are welcome, and please, for crap sake, no politics, there is nothing political about this post. Oh yeah, as always, no name calling, that means you, you big stupid-head!

I recently was introduced to an idea whose time I believe has come.  "Shopping Hour" for men at the grocery store.

The other day while waiting in the 15 item or less line at Shop Rite a woman held up everyone with question asking, register shopping (still picking items while at the register) and general dawdling.  The dude in front of me turned and mumbled under his breath,

“There ought to be a shopping day just for men.”

I mulled this over for a bit and responded,

“I think an hour would do.”

Here is the thing, women’s shopping is not compatible with men's shopping.  I’m not saying they shop wrong, but their shopping drives men crazy.

Women examine every item they purchase.  They actually look at the price and the quantity to determine the best value.  Women look for specific brand names.  Woman examine all packages for potential damage.  These woman-shopping traits take time.  Men place more value on time then on product brand, price and quality; we grab an item drop it in the cart and move on.  Men shop faster.

Women block isles.  Women are never aware of other shoppers, they leave their carts in the middle of isles, they do not move to let others pass.  Women are too intent in the shopping process to be aware of others.  This does not bother other women, it is an accepted practice. It drives men crazy.  Men do not block isles and men move out of the way whenever they sense someone wanting to pass.

Women take forever at the checkout line.  They continue to shop while paying.   Men do not. They ignore item counts in the 15 item or less lane. Men count their items. Women pay with coupons and they argue over the validity of overdue coupons.  Men never use coupons. Women always pay with exact change.  They wait for the final total, pocketbook in hand but will not reach for money until they know the final bill.  Then and only then will they take out their wallet, and carefully search for the bills and change that will either cover the cost exactly, or result in the least number of coins returned as change, they then take forever putting the change away, carefully snapping and zipping their pocketbook paraphernalia.  Men are ready with one large bill and just cram whatever change results in their pocket. All of these woman shopping traits take time.  Other woman do not mind, it is accepted practice.  It drives men crazy.

The solution to this clash in shopping habits is simple.  Men don’t need much time to grocery shop.  We know what we want, we grab the first item we see and put it in the cart without regard for brand or price.  We don’t block isles and we never dawdle at the checkout line.  We can easily do our shopping for the week in an hour.  Just give us one hour a week.

I suggest Tuesday night, when there is no football, from 9:00 to 10:00 be reserved for men only.  Women will not be allowed in the supermarket during this one hour every week.  Men can get it all done in an hour and men and women would never again have to endure the clash in their shopping styles again.

That’s it, that is the idea.  It may be sexist, but come on; just give us one stinking hour!

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

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Done, just in time for Thanksgiving

Done, just in time for Thanksgiving
Old Bathroom
We finally have our home back.  Several weeks ago, we redid our guest bathroom.  This was mostly done in a week, but we had to wait for a few finishing touches.  While we waited, the guest bedroom was a mess with all the bathroom stuff strewn about.
During the bathroom redo, the main water shut-off valve broke.  It took an hour for the township to shut the water off from the street.  In the meantime, there was a bucket brigade from the blown valve to a sump pump on the other side of the basement.  The bucket brigade saved any major damage, but the carpet was toast, and it took a week of fans and dehumidification to dry out the basement.
While we were waiting for the basement to dry out, and for new carpeting, and for a few bathroom finishing touches, the Townhouse Association decided it was time for our unit to get a new roof and gutters.  Because of the pounding on the roof, we were warned to take down all pictures and take breakables off any shelves.  For the next few weeks, we had pictures and tchotchkes off the wall and on the floor, a guest bedroom strewn with bathroom stuff, an unusable guest bathroom, and a musty basement waiting to dry out and get new carpet. During this time we had people on the roof and around the upstairs windows, carpet installers (apparently carpeters is not a should be) in the basement, and contractors in the guest bathroom.
Finally, just in time for our Thanksgiving feast on the Sunday before Thanksgiving, the roof and gutters were done, new carpet was in the basement (and much of our upstairs while we were at it), the guest bathroom completed, pictures and tchotchkes were back in place, and the guest bedroom cleared of bathroom stuff.   We had a boatload of friends and relatives for the annual feast and the house was finished and back to normal just in time.
Carpets are boring, a roof and gutters are just a roof and gutters, but here is the bathroom upgrade.
New Bathroom
New Bathroom Floor
New Oversized Bathtub
New Bathroom vanity

Wednesday, November 23, 2016


 A re-run from November 2013
I’ve published the same Thanksgiving Day post the last two years, so I think I should give it a rest for this year.  What to post, what to post?  I got nothing.  Can I steal a story?  What the hell, why not.
My old boss at the brokerage firm where I toiled for forty years, loved Thanksgiving.  Well who doesn’t, but he REALLY loved Thanksgiving.  He was a big man, over six foot and maybe 350 pounds.  He loved to eat, he loved turkey.

This one year, Tommy was telling me how much he was looking forward to the big day.

“We’re going to my brother-in-laws.  No cooking, no cleaning, no sprucing up the house.  All we have to do is bring ourselves and a pie.  What a day; football, turkey, football, pie, football, nap, no clean up, go home with left overs, have a turkey sandwich, another piece of pie, and watch some football.”

This was a man who was made for Thanksgiving.  Football, turkey and pie, life was good.

The following Monday I asked him about how his favorite holiday went.

“There was football, but the rest of the day was a bust.”

“How so?”

“My brother-in-law has become a vegetarian!  I knew that, but I assumed there would be a separate entre for him and turkey for everyone else…WRONG!  This year I celebrated Thanksgiving Day with the traditional Thanksgiving Day Halibut.  HALIBUT!! DAMN!!  Did the Pilgrims order halibut flown in from Alaska on that first Thanksgiving?  I don’t think so. 

Football is not the same with the aroma of fish in the oven. Pie is not the same following the taste of halibut.  Football is not the same after halibut.  A nap does not even happen without turkey to put you in a football-pie coma.  Have you ever had a sandwich of left-over halibut?  It was the worst Thanksgiving ever!

There is no Thanksgiving without turkey!”

This year will be my 67th consecutive Thanksgiving celebrated with turkey.  I have always enjoyed Thanksgiving Day and turkey, but never as much as I now do when I think of all those unfortunates in the world who have to suffer a feast of the traditional Thanksgiving Halibut.

I submit this year, once again, my suggestion for a traditional Thanksgiving Song:


To the tune of Buddy Holly's "Everyday" (GIYP)

Turkey Day it’s a gettin closer

Who don’t love a tasty oven roaster

A well-cooked bird will surely come my way

A-hay, a-hay, a great day 

 Turkey Day, goin to be a- crazy

A great big meal, then get really lazy

A well-cooked bird will surely come my way

A-hay, a-hay, a great day

Turkey Day, Lions get their ass beat

Either way, just give me some white meat

Come that day

Right in front of my seat

 Pumpkin pie for me

Turkey Day it’s a gettin closer

Who don’t love a tasty oven roaster

Turkey and gravy will surely come my way

A-hay, a-hay, a great day 

 Turkey Day, goin to be a- crazy

A great big meal, then get really lazy

 Thanksgiving is, sure my favorite day

Oh, I luv, Thanksgiving Day