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Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Things I DON’T Resolve for 2016

Things I DON’T Resolve for 2016

This year has been a revelation. Everything I thought I knew about virtue, responsibility, leadership, and… personal grooming has been stood on its oddly coiffed head in 2015. Now as we come upon the season for creating New Year’s resolutions, I find that this time-honored tradition has become outmoded.
Why is this?” you may ask.

It’s all changed due to the unorthodox presidential campaign of The Donald. Will inauguration day, 2017 bring us our first White House reality show? If a mature republic chooses its governance in such a fashion, it seems incumbent on me to bend with the times. With a leader so unfettered, why should I create a list restrictions and imperatives designed to make me a better person?

So, no New Year’s resolutions.
(Actually I do have one New Year’s resolution. I resolve not to buy expensive presents for children under 10. Instead, I will go to the local furniture and appliance store, get the three largest boxes they’ll give me for free, nest them, and put a Dollar Store toy inside.)

Putting that aside, this is my list of things I DON’T resolve for 2016.
1) I don’t resolve to hold my temper.

Why should I? It’s not restraint and politeness that impresses and wins, but bluster, blather, and bloviation. It doesn’t matter what you say. It doesn’t matter what tone you use. What matters is that you say whatever comes into your head LOUDER than the other person.
2) I don’t resolve to apologize when I’m wrong.

I never realized before, but a person is never wrong if he or she sticks to his guns and never backs down. Facts be damned! Be a hero!
3) I don’t resolve to work out more.
I almost learned this from President Bill Clinton, but then he went on a diet.
(What a waffler!)

The Donald is pudgy, and no one says a word.
VLACAYCEB! (Viva la Atlantic City all-you-can-eat buffet.) And on a related note…
4) I don’t resolve to pay attention to my personal grooming.

Any questions?
5) I don’t resolve to stay true to my commitments.
In 1979, The Donald supported Carter’s reelection.
Then he was a firm supporter of Reagan.
He supported Bush, but then was (
in hindsight) a supporter of Bill Clinton, so much so that he later ran a fund raiser for Hillary Clinton's Senate bid.

In 2008 he endorsed Newt Gingrich,
Mitt Romney,
John McCain,
and finally Barack Obama.
Now he’s promising not to run third party if he’s not the Republican nominee
(tee-hee, good one, Donald.)

This philosophy of firm commitment to whatever direction the wind blows
is really liberating!

6) I don’t resolve to make my positions clear.

If a debt-collector asks me what I’m going to do about my over-due credit card bill, I’ll tell him unequivocally that debt is bad. I’ll tell him that I’ll be hard-nosed about it. I’ll tell him that I’m the only credit card holder out there that’s truly qualified to bring this balance under control. I’ll be firm. I’ll speak loudly. I might pound my fist a time or two, and then I’ll hang up.
That’ll solve the problem!
7) I don’t resolve to prepare myself for my job.

Nuance schmooance! I’m particularly impressed with The Donald’s positions on foreign policy. ISIS won’t dare cross him. Mexico will gladly pay for our boarder control. China and Russia will do precisely what he damn-well tells them to do!
All this time I’ve worried about my readers wanted – trying to be funny, trying not to offend. I’ve been a total a suck-up! People will now read my blog and buy my books because I’VE DECIDED THAT THEY WILL!!!!! Trouble In Taos Volition Man Cinder

Who would have guessed it was so easy? I’m so grateful to Mr. Trump for setting me straight on all this. I feel free (in an angry and curmudgeonly way.)
Oh, and just one more.
8) I don’t resolve to vote for Donald Trump in 2016.

If you want details of the The Donald's policies, you need to talk to his two top advisers.

Friday, December 25, 2015

Dirk Destroyer Part 13 Chapter 6 Part 2

So if you’re reading this on the day I post it, I hope you’re Jewish, Kwanzan, Alaskan, or one of those other religions, otherwise you’re reading a blog called Just Plain Stupid on Christmas day. I’d say that’s pathetic, but I’m posting a blog called Just Plain Stupid on Christmas day, so I’m pretty sure that disqualifies me from judging others.
So here’s lucky Part 13 of Dirk Destroyer’s Less Destructive Brother. We join our story in the middle of a conversation among the ‘fellowship of the bring’ concerning how to find Dirk Destroyer. Elmer Destroyer is speaking…
“And he likes smoking…”
“Look,” said Mage-e-not, “smoke!”
Though I was about to say smoking cigars, Mage-e-not was right, there was smoke rising beyond a hill to the north.
“So,” said Tease, “it is true. Enlightenment comes from the north.”
“Onward, Comrades,” sang Lustavious with so much gusto, that I found myself rushing towards the smoke as if great glory awaited me there. That didn’t make any sense, but even in my tightly restricted rational mind, I knew I could use a fire to light a cigar and preserve my small supply of matches.
The Jonma Claim’s stubby little legs couldn’t keep up, and the Jonma Carry picked him up, using his long grasshopper-like legs to catch up with the rest of us. Did he do that out of kindness, or was there a compulsion in the name, Carry?
If names influenced or coerced you to do things, were some of Dirk’s pranks really the fault of the ministry for naming him, Destroyer? And what did Elmer mean?
As I crested the hill, I saw a small-bodied man with a huge head sitting in front of fire. He had some meat on a spit. Where had he found a pig, or a cow out in these hills full of sheep? Then I saw the wooly carcass next to the fire.
“Stop!” shrieked the Jonma Claim. “Ith a monster!”
“Monster?” asked Ono. “Looks iddly to be a roar-rip-snap-gulp.”
“Lip Ton Tease,” commanded Jonma Claim. “Go and kill it immediately.”
“I cannot offer it violence without offense,” said the monk.
“Can’t you thee?” lisped Jonma Claim. “Ith a RunPol.”
Though I’d never met a RunPol, I had heard of them. No one was sure how many of them they were, but they always showed up whenever there was an election with heavy favorites, and ran a hopeless campaign against them. There were strange rumors about RunPols. Some said there was only one of them, but didn’t bother to explain why they showed up everywhere. Other’s said that RunPols never wanted to win elections, just to be a fly in ointment. In that sense, Dirk was a bit of a RunPol, so I was interested in meeting one.
And as Ono had said so eloquently, he looked too iddly to be a roar-rip-snap-gulp.
We approached cautiously. The smell of roasting meat was tantalizing. It made me consider giving up being an earthtarian. Mage-e-not was visibly drooling. The RunPol must have heard us approach because he turned around and smiled.
“Hello folks,” he said. “My name is RunPol, and I’m a candidate for High Priest of the ministry of Thirty-seven Really Good Ideas.”
“That’s shnot an elected office,” snarled Jonma Claim.
“Well it otta be,” said RunPol. “Look at the effect it has on everybody.”
“What’s the platform?” shrieked Swampy.
The monster smiled at the rat-bird. “I’m glad you asked me that. I wish our talking beasts could vote, but that’s not in my platform. My platform is to seek out and find the original intent of the Thirty-seven Really Good Ideas, and reform the organization from within.”
“Kill him!” roared Akwar. We all stood frozen until she disappeared again.
“Say,” I said, “you mind if I light my cigar in your fire?”
“Be my guest,” said the monster.
“Tell me, monster,” said Lip Ton Tease, “how many showers each day should a person be allowed to have?”
“Good question,” said RunPol, though it didn’t sound particularly good to me. “As long as that person owns or has legal access to the water, and his use of it does not deleteriously affect others, he should be able to have as many showers as he pleases.”
“And if the government owns the water?” asked Jonma Claim.
“Then we should be asking ourselves if there’s a good reason for the government to own water.”
I had to admit, as monsters went, I wasn’t finding RunPol too monstrous.
Then Jonma Claim saw the sheep carcass.
“Oh,” he cried. “The humanity!”
“No,” said RunPol, “it’s a sheep.”
“But the thirty-fifth idea!”
“I’m eating it, not bugging it.”
“It’s the same thing.”
RunPol leaned his large head over the carcass and paused. “I don’t hear it complaining.”
“Seeing as it’s not really bugging the sheep,” said Mage-e-not. “Do you think it would be all right if…”
“No!” screamed Jonma Claim.
“I don’t mind sharing,” said the monster. “There’s plenty.”
“Strike him down, Lip Ton Tease,” said Jonma Claim.
“He has offered no insult,” said Tease, careful to stay out of the stream of smoke coming from the fire.
“Lustavious,” said Jonma Claim. “Do something!”
“What?” said Lustavious. “He’s not the Destroyer. I can’t cast him into oblivion.”
“Do something,” Jonma Claim shrieked.
Lustavious shrugged his shoulders, held up one hand, and produced a short flame from his index finger.
“That’s pretty,” said the RunPol monster.
“Now we go,” said Jonma Claim.
“Yeah,” said Mage-e-not, still salivating. “I guess we showed him.”
“Come back tomorrow,” the monster called after us, “I’m creating campaign buttons out of parchment.”
That night we camped in a small wood and sat around our own fire discussing whose fault it was that we hadn’t packed any food except Jonma Carry who possessed a single bag of beans that looked beyond their prime. I ate from the earth as usual, and made some algae bars, but only Ono seemed to like them. Swampy must have found something edible because he crapped twice on Lustavious, the second time when the Light Bringer offered to join Ono at the stream for a bath.
“You know,” said Mage-e-not, “I could go back to the RunPol monster and ask…”
“No!” snapped Jonma Claim who never seemed to be happy about anything.
“Would you like to try an algae bar, Mage-e-not?” I offered for the second time.
“Maybe tomorrow,” the partially invisible wizard sighed. “I’m not quite that hungry yet.”
“Destroyer,” said Jonma Claim. “You take first watch.”
“What am I watching for?”
“Just watch!”

“All right.”

Here's a Christmas song I almost forgot.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Celebrate a Single Guy Christmas

   Shake up the holidays!  Instead of Grandma's this year, why not take an exploratory trip in cultural diversity, and celebrate your family holiday at the home of a single guy?
   Of course there will be some differences, but that's what makes holidays interesting.  To prepare you, I've put together a few things you might expect.

   1) Decorations.
     Single guys decorate.  They just do it in their own way.
   Single guys are always happy to blend in with the neighborhood theme.
   Don't get too close!  That wreath is made from unwashed boxer shorts.
   Remember, Jesus was born in a humble setting.
   Duct tape makes great ornaments for the tree.
   And what could be more angelic than neon for a tree topper?

2) Food
   Don't worry, you won't starve at a single guy's house.

   Beer nuts are festive; they're even wearing tiny winter sweaters.
   Pizza has little red dots, just to make the season jolly.
   The beer is green!  And it comes from Europe which I'm told is a very Christmasy place.
   Just see the holiday joy in your host's eyes.

3) Activities
   Get ready for a loaded day of jolly fun.
   5 AM - Noon.  Sleep in!  See who can snore most like Santa!
   12:30 - 3:45.  The traditional Christmas basketball game!
   3:46 - 4:14.  Dinner, presents, and family crap.  Paper plates make it all go faster.
   4:15 - Midnight.  Mediocre college football bowls!
   Finally, the traditional Christmas couch stupor!  (Starting time optional.)

4) Gift Giving
   Single guys never lose their child-like gift wrapping style
   They try to use up all the paper.
   So they can have sword fights with the cardboard tubes
   Oh my goodness - look what he got you!
   And a single guy never forgets the children!

   So go knock on Weird Uncle Frank's door this holiday, and immerse yourself in the wonder of male singledom.  It's a holiday you'll never forget.

   And to all my readers, here's a fantastic Doug Rice photo of Christmas in Winston-Salem.

Merry (burp) Christmas from your single guy blog writer, Headley.

   Excerpt from the only good version of A Christmas Carol.