Home of the "Little Known Blogger"
I subscribe to several YouTube channels and when I go there they usually have several “suggestions” directing you to the YouTube rabbit hole. I fell into this one as I met a Little Rascal years ago. Not one the original members recounted in this video, but a later replacement. But still a Little Rascal. Follow this link to read about my encounter with this child actor: Dissed by a Little Rascal
It was a little traumatic at the time, but now I have a funny anecdote.
And so it goes.
yeah I know you did not ask!
Another random anecdote, Señora... I remember years ago – and I mean years ago – when I bought a pair of dress shoes for $50. I thought I had done something extraordinarily extravagant. Now days you cannot even buy a pair of junky sneakers for a Grant. Heck, I just looked, you can spend close to a Benjamin on a pair of Crocs®!!!!
What started me down this path was the trip I took to Lowe’s this morning to buy some necessaries for fall yard work. On the way there the dash board light came on in my pickup saying, “I’m hungry, feed me, feed me, I need push-a-line. ”
Without even having the time to wipe the tears out of my eyes I went through a c-note and a Jackson.
I think I have a sawbuck left in my wallet.
My how times have changed.
And so it goes.
I have four possible predictions on my final exit from the travails of this cruel world.
My first possibility is very pedestrian. I go out the normal way, succumbing to one of the many infirmities that can affect us viejos. I am sure y’all can list them by heart.
A second possible way is that I will be walking down the stairs. My progressive bifocals are not on properly, I step down where I think the step is, but it is not. I tumble down the stairs and break my neck. I have come close to doing this more times than I can count .
The third way involves neighbors up the street from us who run Continue reading “Four Possible Exit Predictions”
As these things come and go, I have no idea if it is still in vogue, but the slang, at least for a while, was to refer to the male specific anatomy as “junk”. At least I heard a lot of comedians on the telly doing so. Recently Señora referred to my personal masculine anatomical configuration as paraphernalia.
Paraphernalia… hmm, I didn’t know about that. One dictionary definition of this word is: trappings associated with a particular institution or activity that are regarded as superfluous. What is superfluous, the trappings, the institution or activity? There appears to be a little ambiguity in that definition. Another source gives the definition as: the separate real or personal property of a married woman that she can dispose of by will and sometimes according to common law during her life.
To the second definition…OUCH. To the first, I certainly do not consider my apparatus superfluous – at least yet, and I am hoping Señora does not either.
But then again I did wonder what Señora had been smoking that she had paraphernalia on her mind.
And soooooo it goes.
“The more you can escape from how horrible things really are, the less it’s going to bother you…and then, the worse things get.” ~~ Frank Zappa
To see more Quotes for Day, visit this link: Quotes for the Day
yeah I know you did not ask!
Question: What is the sound of nerds being amorous?
Answer: Eyeglasses clicking together followed by a loud, wet smack.
These are not original with me (duh), I stole them from a website called Bored Panda
Should I be concerned? Many of these I could related to at a very visceral level. Which ones? Well I tend to overshare on this site at times, so I will leave it to your imagination.
Enjoy.
You never fully realize how anti-social you are until a pandemic strikes and your life does not really change that much.
Why does everyone force introverts to be talkative and leave their comfort zone, but no one forces the extroverts to shut up, even for a minute, to make the zone comfortable?
How many introverts does it take to screw in a light bulb?
What’s wrong with just sitting in the dark?
How do you make an introvert happy?
Cancel.
I always regret Continue reading “An Overwhelming Number of Introvert Jokes”
“Matrimony… the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Casamiento Segundo, its until-death-do-us-part mission… to explore a strange new relationship… to seek out a new life and new adventures… to boldly go where no sane couple has gone before.”
Caution the following is NSFW – Not Safe for Work – and more than a little randy… You have been appraised, proceed at your own risk.
It has been a great summer for watermelons. On the way to the golf course is a vegetable stand, and I have been stopping there about once a week to buy us a specimen of this most wonderful of summer delectables.
Tonight as Señora partook of this treat she moaned around the red, luscious, juicy fruit, “I hope I die eating watermelon.”
To which I replied, “I hope I die eating pussy.”
Not missing a beat Señora shot back, “At least I will know where to find the body.”
And yes Señora approved.
Needs no comment from me… but what she said!!!
yeah I know you did not ask!
Ahhh… the rumble of plastic rollers upon the pavement as a swarm of trash and recycling bins are pushed, pulled or dragged to be perched on the curb in anticipation of offering their contents to the cacophonous, blue agent of the alien region, simply known as Fieldlandia. It must be the eve of Thursday trash day.
Gotta love the soundtrack of suburbia .