Category: Orphans

As Uncle Joe Bob once said: “My goat’s done been got.”
Since my fictional uncle never owned any goats of which I am aware, I will have to attribute his colloquialism and improper grammar to his being pissed off. It’s like my medicine woman once told me: “Never piss off a fictional uncle without goats.” This medicine woman, I’ll call her Pearl, should know these things. For she too is fictional.

So what gives here? Is my entire world a fantasy? Are all my acquaintances pretend? Perhaps I am fictional. Well, the answer is: 1) I don’t know. 2) Partly. 3) Occasionally 4) Unfortunately, no. But I did write myself into a precarious corner and now find myself struggling to get out like a mime in a box with depleting oxygen (somehow, I find that a pleasant thought.)

Nonetheless, I did have a few minutes while writing in which to cool down over being unable to access The Dallas Morning News Web site. It isn’t that I by any means will explode into tiny radioactive particles if I can’t access it. But it is a Web site on which I wanted to read a story and it also is one that I frequently have trouble logging into. I don’t know how many times I have had to e-mail their tech people. And this is over a period of a couple of years.

My message was sarcastic in tone today: “It has been a few days since I have been unable to log into your Web site. You guys must be napping.” I regret that I flew off the handle. I’m sure there is a logical explanation why theirs’ is such a crappy Web site. I’m sure I’ll get an e-mail from them soon which will say the problem will be taken care of in a prompt and satisfying manner. Until next time.

Did I tell you that Pearl had visions of Elvis — before he was even born? And Uncle Joe Bob once used his tractor to tow the frame of a home off its foundation after the owner got Joe Bob’s goat? (figuratively speaking). I guess it’s a good thing that Uncle Joe Bob really isn’t around right now. But Pearl? Also probably a good thing. She’d probably just scare the bejesus out of me.

Big Mac: Wouldn’t you really rather have me? 

Wow, everywhere I look I see McDonald’s new Fruit and Walnut Salad.

” … it’s just what a girl wants. a heavenly combination of fresh, crisp apples…juicy, seedless grapes…creamy, low-fat yogurt and sweet candied walnuts. and the best part? it’s perfect for breakfast, lunch or snacktime, so i can get a “fruit buzz”…whenever … “

Every girl wants a fruit buzz? I guess that explains where I have been screwing up with women all these years. How thoughtless of me never considering that women really want a fruit buzz. What the hell is a fruit buzz anyway? Is it like apple crack, or melon smack,or satsuma sinsemilla?

McDonald’s is going on a health kick and they’ve enlisted Destiny’s Child and Venus Williams. I guess we’ll soon be reading in the papers about those poor celebrities — all strung out in some roach-ridden motel — eyelids half closed — sprawled out over their squeaky beds.

Detective Owens: “Damn, ain’t it a shame. Venus was the best tennis player in the world and now look at her!”
Detective Jones: “Yeah. Fruit. Grapes to be exact. This poison is making all these women higher than a kite. We need to put these dealers so far behind bars that they can’t see daylight.”
Detective Owens: “If only McDonald’s stuck to Big Macs instead of fruit. What a waste!”

You’ve got to give McDonald’s this, they aren’t afraid to try something different. Take the McDLT.

I once interviewed for a story the man who invented the McDLT. For those of you who don’t remember, the McDLT was a hamburger in a Styrofoam container with the meat on a bun on one side to keep it warm, and the tomato and lettuce on the other side to keep it cool. The McDLT is no longer around.

The inventor was a Mickey D’s franchisee in Lufkin, Texas. He just came up with this idea one day. I don’t know whatever became of the fellow. I don’t know if anyone’s sculpted a statue commemorating his invention of the McDLT. I don’t know if he is rich. I don’t know if he is poor. I just hope he hasn’t gone broke, trying to support the habit of a wife strung out on McDonald’s new Fruit and Walnut Salad. Would that be irony — or just a crying shame?

“It’s the little things,” said Farmer Jones, as his cornfield was being eaten by a swarm of tiny beetles, “that can really tick you off.”

I know that feeling. Tiny obstacles standing in the way of my finding what I want on the computer really flame out my emotional circuitry these days. First you had pop-ups, the annoying little advertisements that sell products on the principle that if something is irritating enough you will certainly remember it. This computer I am using can block most pop-ups.

But plenty other fuel online exists to burn down the old dwelling your mental health calls home. For instance, some news I might want in an instant from some Web site will require registration. And even if I am registered on that Web site it is no guarantee that I will get to see what I am looking for before the next millennium. One set of newspapers and television stations I visit online sometimes supposedly have one login, or registration, that fits all. It must work on some other planet than ours.

I was trying to read a story on the main page of Washingtonpost.com a little while ago and my vision was intruded upon by the site of giant laser printers dancing across the screen in an ad. Fortunately, it was a silent invasion and was not accompanied by some obnoxious exploding sounds or rumbling that may also attack your senses on some sites. You know, sometimes you just want to use the computer and not have a miniature audio earthquake from Surround Sound in your room.

Most likely some software either is developed or will soon be made to soothe these online wounds that rip my saneness into confeti. That is great, would be great, could be great and on and on. But instead of using the power of computing and the Internet to annoy and advertise, why can’t it be used for the good of mankind? For instance, why not have computer hardware and software that, when I click on it, will make me a sandwich right then and there? Click to choose whether you want French’s mustard, Grey Poupon, or horseradish. Rye, wheat, sourdough, white, Italian bread. Click. Pastrami, bologna, ham, turkey, chicken, roast beef, buffalo, veggie patty. Click. Cheeses. Yes, and cheeses too.

I know such technology would be for the good of this man-kind. It would right at this particular moment, at least. Oh no! I hear that rumbling going on again. What is that annoying sound? Is it some movie trailer? Oh, sorry. It’s just my stomach. Or is it my brain?

Judge not, lest ye be judged! 

Browsing the news at my alma mater, Stephen F. Austin State University, I see congratulations are in order for their Poultry Judging Team. I understand from a college news release that the team brought home a flock of individual and group awards from the 58th U.S. Poultry & Egg Association National Poultry Judging Contest in Baton Rouge, La.

I have to confess something. I never knew competitions existed for poultry judging, not to mention at the collegiate level. I wonder if the teams have cheerleaders and mascots dressed as chickens? And do you have highly recruited students sought for scholarships to such programs? And do those hotshot students get sports cars and hookers?

That is not to say I do not know about various other animal judging events, sheep, meat pen rabbits, bovines,etc. To know there are contests pitting fowl against fowl (and ones which do not involve bloodsport like cockfighting) doesn’t greatly surprise me.

It is all a matter of personal taste I suppose. Still, I cannot look objectively at a chicken to tell whether it is a good chicken or a bad chicken, (or not a chicken a’tall) unless it is wrapped in plastic and in the poultry section at my grocery store. I suppose a nearly naked chicken with sparse feathers and a glue-on beak might signal that this isn’t going to be the prize winner. I know that in judging other animals, a lot of the contest is about how the individuals show that particular animal such as a steer or lamb. I am no expert, although I did take care of a pen full of laying hens when I was a kid, but I find chickens to be about the least cooperative animal of which I know. You may have heard the saying about something being as difficult as getting kittens to march in a parade. Well, in my experience just trying to get a chicken to do anything willingly deserves a prize.

So my hat’s off to those poultry science students at my old schoool who took home contest honors. It makes me proud that I graduated from a really chicken outfit like SFA.

The world is just totally insane. I don’t know why it has taken me so long to recognize that fact after almost 50 years. I guess it is because I was born naive and it takes some people longer than others to shed such traits.

Do you need proof the world has fell off its rocker? Meet Perry Lonzello.

An Associated Press story this morning said the New Jersey man carved a primitive drawing of “runaway bride-to-be” Jennifer Wilbanks on a piece of toasted Wonder Bread, then put it up for bid on eBay as a joke. Wait, that’s just having a little fun. Where insanity rolls up and starts bellowing show tunes is that:

“As of about 5 p.m. Friday, Lonzello’s eBay posting had 134,300 visits and 111 bids made on the toast, with a top bid of $15,400. Bidding closes Sunday. The toast is still a long way from equaling the grilled cheese sandwich with an image of the Virgin Mary that sold for $28,000 on eBay in 2004,” the AP story said.

Sadly, I found 54 items related to “Jennifer Wilbanks toast” this morning on eBay. This includes:
— “Jennifer Wilbanks Toast Found Again,” going for $1
— “Jennifer Wilbanks Runaway Bride Cookie better than toast,” costing $2
— “Jennifer Wilbanks Runaway Bride toast,” bidding at $10,000
— “Jennifer Wilbanks Runaway Bridge toast with kidnappers,” at 99 cents

And a guy is also selling his “bottled rage against Jen, toast, the world!” Priceless? Of course not. He wants $37 for the bottle with a printed label of him screaming.

It’s all good fun, up to a point. But think about it. If people start buying toast regularly for exorbitant sums, what do you think that is going to do for condiments? There is no telling what those little packages of jam you get for your Egg McMuffin (I don’t know about that practice either)could end up costing. What’s next, a pat of butter for $650, knife not included?

Please, I beseech you, stop the madness!!! Then, bring me a piece of toast, plain, and no illustration.