Good friend Darlene Steelman was kind enough to tag me with a quiz on her blog. I am happily answering the questions she provided and hope that my answers will shed a little more light into the inner workings of the mind of a deranged lunatic.

Here ya go Darlene!

1) True love or all the riches in the world?

True Love. The one thing all the riches in the world cannot buy. Well, that and a penguin. Apparently, it is legally impossible to buy an actual penguin. Go figure.

2) How will you survive the zombie apocalypse?

I won’t.
I’m old, I’m fat, and I am crippled. I’m about the closest thing to an All-you-can-eat Buffet that the Zombies will find.

3) If you could be any animal what would you choose, and why?

I would be a Canadian Snow Goose. I’d get to summer up North, spend the Winters down south in the Tropics, and I could legally run around in peoples yards and swimming pools, totally naked, honking my head off all day and night long.

4) If you could go back and tell the young you anything, what would you say?

I would slap myself across the face and yell, “Whatever the Hell you are thinking right now…DO THE OPPOSITE YA IDIOT!!”

5) Roller coaster, spiders, water, or pickles?

Water. I love the water, have lived in a town on the ocean, currently live on a lake, and am pretty sure I was a Whale of some kind in a previous life. (I still have the physique)

6) What is your favorite color?

Purple. Start playing “Purple Rain” by Prince now for the full effect.

7) If you could spend 1 hour with someone dead (famous or not), who would it be?

My uncle Keith. The man who is the source of much of my sense of humor.

8) What is your favorite song?

My wife would probably say that it is something like “Boogie Wonderland” by Earth, Wind, and Fire…. but actually, it is the Stevie Nicks ballad “Sara”.

9) Twilight, Underworld, or Resident Evil?

Actually, I’m more in line with “Shaun of the Dead”, or “Zombieland”.

10) What is your favorite plant?

Robert. Man that dude can sing. Not so much anymore, cause he’s like pushing 70 now, but boy did he have the pipes in the years when I was a kid!

11) Truth or dare?

I’m an idiot. I’ll always choose the dare and will get horrifically injured, burned, or maimed in the process.

Now for the Eleven Questions of Doom (moo haa haa)!

1) Of the five senses – which would you sacrifice to keep the other four?

Common sense. I don’t ever use it anyway.

2) What is the first website you check in the morning?

Scottrade.com (I am very active in investing and have to know whether the market is up or down, so that I will know if I can eat actual food that day, or whether I need to break out the Mac and Cheese and eat frugally)

3) Zombies or Vampires?

Vampires. A Vampire woman can actually be very cute and alluring….. A zombie woman, not so much.

4) Feed the poor or Eat the rich?

I’m a Liberal Hippie. Feed the Poor. Better yet, have the rich feed the poor. It will be a good experience for them.

5) Romance Novel or Thriller?

Thriller. Though, I will admit to dabbling in Jackie Collins novels back in my crazy college years.

6) Favorite Band?

This would probably be a tie between “The Eagles” and the classic lineup of “Journey” with Steve Perry on lead vocals.

7) Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall?

Fall, in the Rocky Mountains.

8) Is there anyone in your past that, looking back, you never would have dated?

The ex-wife comes to mind rather quickly.

9) What could you eat over and over.. and over again?

Anything Chinese. If I was a cannibal, I could easily eat an actual Chinese person, with a little Szechuan sauce for dipping….

10) Which deadly sin would you most associate yourself with?

Gluttony. Good grief, I just talked about eating an actual human being….

11) Car, motorcycle or something else? If something, else, what?

Hiking Boots. In the mountains. Best mode of transportation ever invented.

The End.

I encourage any other readers out there to take the quiz on your own blog, and then please send me a link so I can check out your deranged answers. Thanks again Darlene!

Tuesday evening.

Wife: “Idiot…..if you can find some time in your ultra-busy schedule tomorrow…can you do my laundry….and can you wash our bedding?”

Idiot: (Blows dust off day planner, opens day planner…spreading cobwebs which have called the planner home for years) “Uh…I think I can just squeeze that in…..my schedule is pretty full…..”

Wife: “Thanks Idiot…..and very important…….Hey Idiot!…Look at me as I explain this!!…..very important….. I have a black T-shirt from Work in my laundry basket…..Do NOT dry it in the dryer under any circumstances!!! Take it out and let it dry over the back of a chair or something…..the last time you dried it, it shrank…..that is my favorite T-shirt and I don’t want you to ruin it!!! Do ya got all that??!!”

Idiot: “Dry the black chair over the back of a T-shirt and let it dry in the laundry basket….got it”

Wednesday morning.

I strip the bedding and all the pillowcases.

I run into one minor issue.

I am a well-insulated walrus at night. As such, I like the bedroom cold and like having the ceiling fan on, irregardless of what the temperature is inside or outside the house. My wife is the opposite. She is a tiny twig of a woman with no insulation whatsoever. She likes sleeping in a SAUNA, irregardless of the inside or outside temperature. I would sleep like a baby at 55 degrees, while she would happily doze at 85 degrees.

Well, we “compromise” with the temp usually hovering in the mid 60′s. Even in the 60′s, I am usually sprawled out atop the covers, baking like a loaf of bread. The wife, on the other hand, has added 2-3 extra blankets to her side of the bed and is cocooned deep inside her bedding like a mummy.

Recently, she added a new little throw blanket to her layers….

The fuzzy little green blanket from Hell.

This blanket is literally comprised of MILLIONS of little fuzzies….. how it is all held together is beyond my comprehension.

I peeled back the layers of bedding from our bed and then came to the layer on top of, and just beneath, the green fuzzy blanket.

There were little green fuzzies everywhere up and down my wife’s side of the bed!

No problem. I peeled everything off, drug it all to the utility room, and mashed everything into the washer.

A half hour later, I went in to transfer the bedding to the dryer.

My God!! A green fuzzy bomb went off!!

I started pulling bedding from the washer and EVERYTHING was covered in little green fuzzies!!

I hurriedly shoved everything in the nearby dryer, though I dropped about a pound of fuzzies on the utility room floor as I did so.

I started the dryer.

Before I knew it, both idiot cats had come into the room and were sniffing around by my feet. Sure enough, both idiot cats were soon covered in green fuzzies! The stuff was like fuzzy glue…literally sticking to everything it came into contact with.

I looked in the washing machine.

Sure enough, the interior sides of the washer was covered in a thin coating of little green fuzzies.

Gah!!!

Think idiot…… if you put a load of laundry in, that will force more water through the washing machine and will wash the remaining fuzzies out of the washer through all the little hole thingys on the side of the washer.

I got my wife’s first load of actual clothes laundry and dumped it in the washer.

About an hour later, the buzzer on the dryer went off, indicating the bedding was now dry.

I was terrified to even open the door.

I slowly opened the door and peered inside.

Just as I suspected, EVERY article of bedding, and every pillow case, was covered in green fuzzies.

Gah!!!! What the Hell?????

I carried a handful of bedding out to the living room and dumped it on the couch.

A green and gray cat, that just used to be gray, slowly walked past me, sneezing uncontrollably due to the wad of green fuzzies stuck to it’s nose….

I grabbed one of the bed sheets.

Maybe I could get the fuzzies off by violently shaking the sheet.

I violently shook the bed sheet…

and a beautiful little rain of green fuzzies tumbled and floated through the air and coated EVERYTHING in our living room within a 10′ radius.

Gah!!!

I sat silently on the couch and silently cursed my tiny little wife for her need to have this Satanic green blanket from Hell on her side of the bed in the first place.

Then, I shuffled off to eat lunch in the kitchen.

I opened the fridge and saw a Tupperware container full of spaghetti that we had eaten a few nights earlier for dinner. I opened the container to see how much spaghetti was left.

There was a good sized portion, BUT, as you would guess, it had a couple green fuzzies perched atop the spaghetti! Gah!! This stuff goes THROUGH Tupperware!!

A short while later, the buzzer went off on the dryer. My wife’s first load of laundry was done!

Just as I feared, EVERYTHING was coated in green fuzzies.

Her pants, blouses, undergarments, socks, yes, even the tiny Barbie Doll Black T-Shirt that had somehow made it’s way into her laundry basket.

Wait a minute…

The wife does not have a Barbie Doll….

Oh Crap!

The Barbie Doll sized shirt was THE shirt that I was NOT supposed to dry.

I had shrunk it down to Barbie Doll size and had coated it, and everything else in the house, in little green fuzzies.

The phone rang.

It was the wife!

How could she know????

“Hello?”

“Hey Idiot….what’s for dinner?”

“Uh… I don’t know yet…I was thinking something green….”

“How’s my laundry coming?”

“Just fine dear…no problems….”

“Did you do the bedding too?”

“You mean the sheets, blankets, and pillow cases?”

“No idiot…I mean the sheets and the pillow cases….You don’t wash the blankets…..good Lord man….do you know what kind of mess would occur if you tried to wash those blankets? Those have to be dry cleaned! Any idiot knows that!!”

“Oh sure…I knew that….I was just testing you…..see you in a bit…..”

“Bye Idiot…have dinner ready when I get home….I’m hungry!…..and make sure my good t-shirt is ready to go, I’m wearing it to work tomorrow…”

“Sure thing my pet”

Click

beep boop boop

ring ring

“Hello 911 What’s your Emergency?”

“Yes, I’d like to report a Murder”

“A Murder? Did you say a Murder sir?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Who was murdered sir?”

“I was ma’am…..in about 43 minutes from now”

“Sir…is this a joke?”

“No maam…in 43 minutes, my wife is gonna come home and is going to kill me until I am rendered dead”

“Why would she do that sir?”

“Well ma’am…it all started with a fuzzy little green throw blanket…and our washing machine….”

“Oh sir…tell me you didn’t wash the fuzzy blanket in the washer….”

“Yes ma’am…yes I did”

“Sir… what Funeral Home would you like us to call on your behalf?”

It all sounded simple enough.

Mow the back yard on Tuesday afternoon.

Weed-eat the back yard.

And then, “dig out” the above ground pool.

By “dig out”, I mean clear a 18″ wide perimeter around the side of the pool, so that the grass that has now grown right up to the edge does not produce killer spiked weeds that will poke a hole in the pool liner and cause a leak that will flood our yard with tens of thousands of gallons of pool water.

Got it? Simple enough.

I mowed the yard. I have NEVER had to mow our yard in February prior to this year in that our grass is usually dormant and brown all winter long. But, seeing as how it is pushing 80 degrees this week, the idiot grass thinks that Spring has arrived and has been growing like a madman in recent weeks.

I weed eat, no problem.

I head over to our back patio to get the HOE in order to start clearing a perimeter around the base of the pool. No Hoe. Where’s my Hoe? Who took my hoe? It is usually right here in this corner of the patio!

I look around the back yard.

And there it is……

On the trampoline!

Why the heck is my hoe on the dang trampoline?

I head off towards the far corner of the yard where the Trampoline resides.

This area has very little grass and is still pretty muddy from recent rains. Due to our not wanting our idiot toddler of a High School Freshman to fall off the trampoline and hurt his little heady poo…. we have one of those “cage enclosures” which provides a nylon and net prison about 10′ high around the entire jumping area of the trampoline. Of course, with the Hoe being IN the trampoline enclosure, this means that idiot me is going to have to go into the dang trampoline cage to retrieve my hoe.

I slosh through mud and reach the “entrance”, a narrow little area that unzips to allow the kiddies to enter and exit the trampoline version of Thunderdome.

Like a good little idiot, I remove my shoes, remembering vivid visions of the wife yelling at the kid…”Take off your damn shoes before you go in there!!! Your shoes will POP the trampoline!!!”

I pull myself up onto the edge of the trampoline with my head and shoulders already poking into the Thunderdome cage.

The whole trampoline begins to slide in the mud, ever so slightly.

I guess this is to be expected when an overweight Walrus climbs onto a toy meant for a toddler.

I wiggle my body in an attempt to pull my body the rest of the way into the cage and so that I can pull my idiot legs up off the ground.

The trampoline slides some more in the mud.

Good grief….I could have sworn this area of the yard was flat!

All of a sudden, the trampoline really starts sliding…and also starts spinning ever so slightly.

I yank my legs into the Thunderdome and watch as the yard and back of the house slowly spin by through my netted line of sight.

Suddenly, the trampoline thumps to a soft stop….against our 8′ privacy fence.

The sliding Thunderdome Idiot Cage has nowhere else in which to slide.

It is done.

I crawl across the trampoline and retrieve my hoe.

Me and the hoe crawl back over to the exit zipper door…and face a shocking site.

Fence.

The damn trampoline, in my supposedly FLAT backyard, has slid and twirled its way up against our backyard fence so that the exit “door” is right up against the dang fence!

I reach out through the zippered door, place both hands on the fence, and press as hard as I can, hopefully causing the trampoline to slide back uphill enough that I can escape.

Nothing.

It does not budge.

I am trapped in Thunderdome!

In my backyard… On a school/work day…. with the wife and kid not due home for hours…..

I lay on the trampoline and stare up at the tall netted barriers that are imprisoning me. There is no way to climb my way out. I look at the hoe. I could hoe my way out, slicing a huge escape hatch into the netting with the hoe, but that would draw a death penalty from the wife and kid, and the grandparents that actually purchased this prison. As far as I remember, the damn Thunderdome enclosure cost the grandparents about double than what they paid for the actual trampoline itself.

I hear a little girls giggling voice off in the distance.

I turn my idiot head trying to figure out from which direction it is coming.

I hear more laughing and giggling.

I hone in on the direction of the little girls voice.

About 150 yards behind our home is a Church. This Church has an outdoor play area. The little girls giggles have to be coming from this play area!

How can I be sure?

I have to see!

I toss the hoe across the trampoline and try my best to wobble myself to death as I try to stand up. I finally do reach my feet, only to be staring through net and straight at fence. I need to get a little higher to see out of the yard.

Bounce idiot!!! Bounce!!

Oh yeah, I am standing on a damn trampoline aren’t I?

I try a little weak bounce and end up bouncing about 3″ into the air.

The trampoline did not break and I did not break, so bounce higher idiot, bounce higher!

I bounced ever higher.

Two months after having tendon transfer surgery on his left foot, and still going to physical therapy for that foot, three times a week, and now the idiot is BOUNCING on that new foot on his kids trampoline! The Doc would kill me if he saw this!

I finally bounded high enough to where I caught a quick glimpse of a young girl playing on the swings at the Church.

Another bounce revealed an adult woman seated in a parked car in the parking lot about 30 feet away from the girl. I assumed that this was the girls mother, sitting in the comfort of the car as her little girl played on the playground.

Another series of bounces showed that the car windows were up. The woman in the car would have a hard time hearing me. I would have to yell loud.

I bounced up as high as I could..

“HEEEEELLLPPP!!!!”

Bounce

“Laaadddddyyyy!!!!”

Bounce

“Laaaaddddeee!!!!! Heeeeellllppp!!!!!”

Bounce

It was no use. The lady could not hear me. I did notice however, that the young girl had stopped swinging and was now staring at the backyard fence from which a gray-haired Santa Claus lookalike popped up every few seconds…

Bounce

“Liiiiitttttllleee Giiiiiirrrrrlllll!!!!”

Bounce

“Come here littttllleeee Giiiiirrrrlllll!!!!”

Bounce

(OK Idiot, maybe this is not the best plan in the world. Trying to entice a young girl to come into my backyard from a neighborhood playground is going to look pretty bad on my profile on “America’s Most Wanted”)

Stop bouncing.

I can’t win.

I just laid back on the trampoline and stared at the sky.

I could hear the little girl off in the distance, hurriedly trying to explain to her Mother that Santa Claus’ head had been calling out to her as it bounced up and down on top of THAT fence….. but, thankfully, it sounded as if the Mom did not believe a word the child was saying.

I laid there for about three hours. A lonely idiot and his faithful hoe.

Then, I heard the car pull into the driveway.

The wife and kid were home.

A few minutes passed.

I head muffled screaming of my name from within the house.

Finally, my phone rang.

“Hellooooooo?”

“Idiot!!! Where the heck are you??? We’re hungry! What’s for dinner?”

“I’m out in the backyard dear…”

“What the heck are you doing in the backyard? It’s dinner time!!”

I watched in horror as the back door slowly opened up to reveal the wife, standing in the doorway still clutching her cell phone to her ear.

She closed the cell phone.

“What the hell are you doing on the trampoline??!!!! You know you can’t be on that thing!!!!”

She slowly walked across the yard, pausing to notice the deep indentations of where the trampoline legs USED to be…and then looked at the skid marks leading to where the trampoline now resided.

She slowly looked at the trampoline enclosure and zoomed her attention to the “entry door” which was now flush up against the fence.

She quickly realized what this all meant.

“TYLER!!!!!TYLER!!!!!! GO INTO MY BEDROOM AND GET THE VIDEO CAMERA OFF OF THE DESK AND BRING IT TO ME!!!”

I heard a muffled reply from in the house.

“Why???? I’m playing my Playstation!! Can’t you get it??”

“GET THE CAMERA NOW TYLER!!!! YOUR IDIOT FATHER IS TRAPPED IN THE TRAMPOLINE!!!!”

I just laid there and stared at the sky, accepting my fate.

Why me Lord? Why me?

Monday Morning.

I had my 3-month follow-up with my Skin Cancer Doc. Dad tagged along with me so that we could eat Chinese Food after my appointment.

After eating, we had a little shopping to do….. rather, HE had a little shopping to do…

At Mutant-Mart.

I was tagging along with him as he slowly wheeled through the produce section, and was obviously annoying the daylights out of him due to my constant begging for him to let me ride IN his basket, just like when I was a little kid. Just like when I was a kid, he gave me a dollar and told me to go wander around the store like a good little boy until he was done shopping.

He caught up to me about 20 minutes later, in the Wine Section of all places.

Good Lord how far have I fallen in my dreary life to have ended up in the Fine Wine aisle of the local Wal-Mart?

What a selection! They had the “good stuff”, which went for about $10 a bottle, and which was in actual bottles.

They had the $7 “Discount” wine which came in a cardboard box with a picture of a wine bottle on the outside of the box.

And finally, they had the $5 “Budget” wine, which came in clear glass mayonnaise and pickle jars, emblazoned with yellow packing tape with the words “WHine” scribbled across the tape.

I have to admit, I am a total novice at Wine. Here I am, pushing 50, and I have never been a Wine drinker. A few months ago, I saw a report on the news about how drinking a glass of red wine each day was supposed to decrease your risk for Alzheimer’s, having been shown to improve your cognitive skills and memory, so I promptly completely forgot about that report until just a few weeks ago, when it suddenly popped back into my idiot head, prompting me to go out and buy a bottle of Red Wine, though I know nothing at all about Wine.

So, My Dad sees me scoping out the selection of fine wines at Wal-Mart. He about has a cow, instructing me that Wal-Mart, aka Mutant-Mart, is NOT the place to buy fine wine in the city.

For that, we need to head next door…

To Sam’s Club.

Sam’s Club…..where the classy rednecks and riff-raff shop!

Dad took me next door and we made a B-Line straight for the Fine Wine section, neatly wedged in between 500lb bags of dog food, and half-price Klansman Robes being passed off as “Full-body hooded Terry-Cloth Bath Robes…..with a Confederate Flag on the back”

Dad was right.

Sam’s Club IS the place for idiots to buy fine wine.

Sam’s is nice enough to provide little placards above each selection of wine, with the placards allowing the customer to easily decide which wine is best for their particular wine knowledge and tastes.

Dad pointed me towards some Red Pinot Noir Wines and told me to check out the placards.

The First Selection had a series of placards which the customers were to flip. The first card on the placard said “What is your knowledge of Wine?”

I flipped the card. It had something written in French.
Nope, that’s not me.
I flipped the card again. It said “I know a little about Wine”.
Nope, still not me.
I flipped the card again. It said “I know Jack Squat about Wine”.
Bingo. It instructed me to proceed to the flip card directly beneath the “Jack Squat” card.

It proceeded to tell me, in terms I could understand, what this particular brand tasted like, and what it would go good with. I read on….

“This fine RED wine comes from the Fertile Dog’s Collar Holler area of Eastern West Virginia, and has an aroma of strawberry, blackberry, oak, vanilla, leather, shoelace, athletes foot, spice, and vinegar. It goes good with Beef, Fowl, Fish, Domesticated House pets, Squirrel, Frogs, Rabbit, Jerky, and Road Kill. It is suitable for parties, barbecues, Church Communion, Ritual sacrifices, Tractor Pulls, Stock Car Races, and for use as barter in Federal and State Penal Institutions”

Yee Haw!!

We have a winner!

I bought a bottle AND Dad bought a bottle!

I WILL get the hang of this wine thing yet!

Oh yeah, as far as the Doctor visit went, not too bad…..for me…..

Only three “Precancerous Spots” this visit! After 37 Skin Cancers in recent years, and with my body looking like I have been machine gunned to death, I finally had a visit with no actual new full-blown cancers! The Doc did chew me out for having tan lines on my legs, in February, a clear indication that I have been running around outside in shorts all winter, but hey, an idiot will be an idiot……

Now, where’s that classy pickle jar full of West Virgina Merlot?

I knew Saturday was going to be bad after my wife told me what I had to do while on our weekly shopping expedition into civilization.

I cringed at the thought of what she was telling me, even though I knew it had to be done.

We had a nice quiet lunch, just the two of us, but my mind was on what was to follow, so much so that I cannot even remember what I had to eat.
(Hint: It was an animal, and I could still see signs from where the jockey had been hitting it with the whip)

I was quickly getting nervous, very nervous.

So nervous that I actually walked out of the restaurant, did the keyless remote to unlock the car, and then proceeded to try to climb into the WRONG car.

This gave the wife a good chuckle, but realizing that I was totally wigging out over my little “chore”, did she have compassion and let me off the hook? Heck no.

We drove across town and before I knew it, we were there.

The building loomed over our car and cast a huge shadow over everything. To me, this building has long been associated with pure evil and darkness. Nothing GOOD ever comes about when I visit this building.

I started to visibly shake and was gritting my teeth so tightly that little wisps of smoke were coming from between my pursed lips.

The wife, holder of TWO degrees in Psychology, was not amused and had no sympathy.

“Get out Idiot! Get out like a man….go in there….and do what you gotta do!!”

There was no need to even think about arguing with the woman.

I got out, head hanging down, shoulders slumped in defeat, wounded puppy dog look on my face, but all to no avail. The little lady slid over into the drivers seat and sped away on her way to Kohl’s.

Yes, there I was, staring up into the spine chilling terror of the giant LOWES sign sprawled high above the building.

Yes, the Idiot, the most mechanically inept man on the planet, was being left on his own to once again venture into the hideous abyss of the local LOWES store.

You see, the Idiot had endured a small little “accident” a few days ago in which his attempts to lower his massive undercarriage softly onto the toilet seat, went slightly arry, thanks to him temporarily losing his balance on his surgically repaired left main landing gear, causing the behemoth of a man to slam down onto the toilet seat with such force that said seat was permanently dislodged from it’s moorings. Yep, the idiot broke the toilet seat. Go ahead, shoot me. I think it was still useable, though the wife quickly made it clear that she did not like sitting on a “swivel chair” while she tried to use the restroom. Because of my unfortunate little accidental murdering of the toilet seat, I was assigned the task of going into the dreaded LOWES of death, in search of a replacement seat.

Not content to just send me into my immenent death in search of a toilet seat, the wife also sent me in with instructions to get lawn fertilizer/weed killer for the grass surrounding our home. Two things I know absolutely NOTHING about….Home Improvement, and Lawn Care. This was just the icing on the cake, the woman definetly wanted me dead!

I shuffled into the entrance of LOWES and grabbed a cart. I had not made it even 3 feet inside the door before the first blue aproned droid approached me, begging me to let him assist me.

“What can I help you with today sir?”

I lowered my head in shame.

“I broke da terlet seat” (When in shame mode, I often go into Archie Bunker mode and slaughter the English language)

“You mean the TOILET seat sir?”

“Yeah…da Terlet seat”

“No problem sir, follow me while we head over to the bathroom area…….I just have a few questions before we get there…”

(Crap! Here it comes! Time to put on my I’M A FREAKIN IDIOT!! shirt!)

“Sir, what size seat do you need?”

(This is a trick question! The fella is trying to mess with me!)

“Uh….just an adult size will be fine”

(Awkward pause)

“Uh sir…do you have 13.4″ seat or 15.8″ seat?….those are the two most common sizes…”

(Act like you didn’t hear him idiot! play deaf!!)

“Uh sir….when you sit on the toilet….is it like you are sitting atop a BARREL or a TIN CAN?”

“Uh….barrel….definetly a barrel….kind of an odd shaped barrel…..”

“OK Sir….. it sounds like you have an elongated toilet so you will need a 15.8″ seat”

(This is easy….piece a cake!)

“Sir…after we find you a seat, is there anything else you are gonna need today?”

“Uh yeah….lawn fertilizer/weed killer….. the kind that looks like sand that you put in the little plastic buggy thing and then wheel all around the yard…”

(I thought that sounded like a damn well formed explanation……considering I am an idiot….”

“No problem sir….what kind of grass do you have?”

(Easy one!)

“Green”

“Uh…no sir….what species of grass do you have?”

(Crap!)

“American green?”

“Alrighty sir….let’s try this….what type of weeds are you encountering that you are wanting to kill?”

“Uh…uh….there’s little stringy ones with the stalks that have the little fuzzy balls on the end that blow away when it gets windy….and then there’s the ones that are all spiky and hurt your feet when you step on them….and then there are the little green ones that kinda look like someone threw up spinach mixed with little pieces of corn…..”

The nice sales associate flagged down one of his co-workers that was walking in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me Carl, could you do me a favor and go over to lawn and garden and get this gentleman a 50lb bag of the SCOTTS brand “American Green Grass Fertilizer with Little Fuzzy Ball Killer” please?”

I smiled a contented grin.

This trip was easy!

Soon I would have my oddly shaped barrel worthy terlet seat, and would have my large bag of green grass fertilizer with fuzzy ball killer.

The wife will be so impressed.

I am actually getting the hang of this!

**Maybe that last statement was a little hasty. Apparently, my numb butt did not realize that our old toilet seat was handcrafted out of reindeer antlers by artisans in the Lapland area of Finland, and utilized Nordic Tempur Pedic cushioning into the heated seat body area. This WAS the Rolls Royce of toilet seats. After just one sitting, it was made loud and clear to me, by the loving little woman, that I had just purchased a paper-thin sheet of plastic not fit for use in a Motel-6. The wife said I would have been better suited to just cut a hole into the center of a Frisbee and then glue the thing onto the toilet bowl ***

——————————————————————-

**** 2012 Crawling my way ever faster back to the Pacific Bike Tour ******

Miles this year: 333
Days on Bike: 14
Avg miles per day: 23.8

Location: The Idiot is pedaling westbound on Interstate 30 just outside of Mount Pleasant, Texas.

**** 2012 Crawling my way back to the Pacific Bike Tour ********

Total Miles: 300
Days on Bike: 13
Avg Daily Miles: 23.1

Current Location: After being sidelined for a few days with Bronchitis, the Idiot is back on the road and has now crossed into his adopted homeland, and is about 30 miles west of Texarkana, Texas.

A quick quiz…

When I came home from the Doctor, diagnosed with Bronchitis, did the wife say..

A. “Bronchitis??? How the Heck did you get Bronchitis?? You never go outside!!”
B. “This wouldn’t happen if you’d wear some damn long pants once in a while! It’s freaking Winter ya idiot!!”
C. “If you so much as look my direction, I WILL kill you!!”
D. All of the Above

Texarkana sits literally ON THE BORDER, with one side of the main street being in Arkansas, and the other being in Texas. Cruising around downtown looking for a parking spot can have you going in an out of each state multiple times within one city block. From here, I am headed for the Dallas-Fort Worth area and will ride through the town I currently call home. You will also get a glimpse of just how big this state is, seeing as how I will riding within Texas for about the next 3 weeks or so. From here in Texarkana, I live what we would call “Down the road a piece”. Here in Texas, we have unique ways of classifying distances, just in case you happen to stop and ask for directions to somewhere and a local tells you one of the following…

“Down the road a bit” means anything from 2 blocks away, to 100 miles away.
“Down the road a ways” means anything between 100 miles and 200 miles….as the crow flies.
“Down the road a Piece” means you better gas up now, cause you got a LONG way to go.
If you have out of state plates and are asking Directions, EVERYTHING will be “down the road a bit”. The locals love to make out-of-staters think that their destination is just around the next bend, even when they are still 500 miles away.
If you are from Oklahoma, we will tell you that your destination is “down the road a bit” but will make sure to point you in the wrong direction before you leave.

The Answer to quiz was D. All of the Above. Congratulations! I’m sure ALL of you got it right!

1986

London, England

The Idiot, serving in the US Air Force, had just arrived in England days earlier. After in-processing on the base, some fellow servicemen take him to London for the first time.

This will be the Idiot’s first opportunity to experience authentic English Cuisine for the first time.

Visions of consuming mass quantities of sheep’s stomachs, blood pudding, and greasy newspaper wrappings filled with tiny amounts of undercooked fish fill the idiots mind.

He takes the train to London, then, the Tube (subway) to the heart of the City at Piccadilly Circus, comes up from the tube station, and surveys about 300 places in which to eat.

He heads straight for Burger King.

Yep, the Idiot’s first ever meal in London, was at Burger King.

2010

Bolivia

The Idiot is flying to Bolivia with founder Don Davis as part of the Global Mission Readiness Charity. The Charity, comprised of Emergency Responders, has taken on the Idiot to be their photographer, videographer, and blogger for a 16 day trip to Bolivia and Peru in which they will be instructing local Emergency Responders.

This is the Idiot’s first trip to the exotic continent of South America.

He is determined to branch out and explore the culinary options available in Bolivia, the least visited country in South America.

Folks at home have filled his head with visions of plates filled with Monkey, Python, Water Buffalo, and even…..gasp…..Alpaca.

The Idiot is open to trying ANYTHING on this trip, but draws the line at Alpaca. They are simply too cute to eat. Everything else is fair game.

We land in Bolivia late in the morning.

We are first taken to our small hotel where we are able to grab a small nap after the 24 hr trip from the USA. While trying to sleep, I hear shrieking of an unknown origin coming from the trees surrounding the hotel. I take these sounds to be monkeys. Monkeys that may soon be occupying my plate.

After the nap, we spend endless hours visiting with the local emergency responders. They take us all over the city of Santa Cruz De La Sierra, showing us their operations and facilities. It is now well past 9pm local time and we have yet to eat since arriving in Bolivia.

Right now, the monkey on a plate sounds pretty good. In fact, I am so hungry that even a properly fried Alpaca might be worth trying.

Our hosts ask us if we would like to go out and eat at a popular local restaurant. We eagerly nod “Yes”.

We pack into vehicles and make our way through the city.

I can already taste the smoked monkey on my tongue as I eagerly anticipate an authentic Bolivian meal.

We arrive at the restaurant.

There are lots of pictures of plates of food plastered on the walls, all with Spanish subtitling. I have no Spanish knowledge other than asking where the Bathroom is located. I assume these are pictures of the plates containing the monkey, Python, water buffalo, and possibly a cute little Alpaca.

Our hosts are kind enough to order for us.

We sit at an outside table, eagerly anticipating the authentic Bolivian meal that is soon to be placed in front of us.

Before we know it, it has arrived.

There it is.

Staring up at me.

Yep…

Pizza.

Pizza…….

My first “authentic” meal in South America…

is Pizza.

Though, in my defense, we had a “Supreme”, and what kind of actual meat was being used on the Supreme was a source of great debate. For all I know, we did, in fact, consume Monkey Pizza, or Pepperoni,Sausage, and Python….. or even what they called the “Alpaca Lovers Deluxe”…with extra cheese and extra Alpaca….

Who knows….

The following day, while out and about in the city, we were treated to a delicacy that the locals called “The Creature from the Mountains”.

Being from Texas, I had little doubt as to what creature I was now consuming.

Yes, I travelled all the way to the Jungles of South America….to eat an Armadillo.

(It tasted like Pork Chop by the way…)

I am majorly ticked off at WordPress at the moment.

I pulled up my blog and was going back through the archives, looking for a suitable post to repost.

I was NOT logged into my wordpress account at the time.

I pulled up an old post and found an advertisement at the bottom of the page. This was an ad that was on a YOU TUBE video. Hmmmm….. interesting….seeing as how I don’t put ads on my blog…..seeing as how I thought that WordPress does not allow us to put ads on our blogs…

I pulled up another post. The same thing happened. This one also had an ad attached. I pulled up a third post…..yep, there was yet another ad!

I did some checking….

I found this on the WordPress site…

At WordPress.com, we sometimes display advertisements on your blog to help pay the bills. This keeps free features free!

To eliminate ads on your blog entirely, you can purchase the No-Ads Upgrade.

The No-Ads Upgrade costs $29.97 per blog, per year.

Oh, I see now…… we are not allowed to generate any money off of our original material, by displaying ads of our choosing, but WordPress is free to run ads for whatever they see fit, on OUR BLOGS, and we are powerless to stop it, unless of course we pay $30 a year to keep our blogs AD-FREE.

All that original material you and I are putting out……. Well, someone is making money off it, and it is not us!

You might want to log out of your WordPress account and then pull up your blog, just as if you were surfing the net, and see if they have added advertisements onto some of your old content.

The thing that really ticks me off is that I don’t remember seeing any kind of notice from WordPress that this was going to be taking place.

I personally do NOT want ADS on my blog! Even ads of my own choosing. I used another site before coming to wordpress, a site that actually allowed ads, and I did not choose to use ads. Personally, I hate websites that are crawling with ads, just like I hate watching commercials on TV.

So, now, I have to either swallow my indignation and allow WordPress to continue to advertising whatever the Hell they want on my old posts…

Or I can pay them to stop putting ads on my old posts….

Or I can just drop WordPress altogether and switch to my own website where I can have MY BLOG the way that I want it.

This is just totally wrong. I have no control over the ads that THEY are placing on MY blog, unless I pay them to stop!

The old saying is right.

Nothing in Life is free.

Is this ad info new to anyone else out there, or I have been living with my head in the sand? This really ticks me off!

“Watch the Hell where you’re driving!! You almost hit another carhop!!”

—- Was the screams that I heard as I tried to navigate my way out of the Sonic Drive-in parking lot in Denton today. Denton is a college town. The carhops at Sonic, with Denton being a college town, are…….attractive college ladies that look like they are all on the varsity bikini and modeling team. Not good when you are a middle aged dude trying to navigate your car out of the parking lot, with family in the car, without being distracted and hitting something.

I tell ya, ya just “slightly” run over one cute little carhop, years ago, and you’re forever labeled a menace to every other girl on skates out there in Sonicland!

—————————————————————————————————-

Went to lunch at Red Lobster today. (Alert the media)

The waitress asked for my order. I told her I wanted the Highly Poisonous Japanese Blow fish with a baked potato and extra Blow on the fish.

Then, for the second time in a month, it happened.

She looked at me and asked if I wanted the “regular” portion……or the “Senior” portion…..

I don’t remember any of what happened next. The wife says I leaped up, through my table, shattering it into a thousand pieces, (I was wedged in that booth pretty good) ran across the floor, tackled the terrified waitress (who was attempting to flee to safety), and then reaching on to a nearby plate of a petrified elderly patron, I started to severely thrash the poor girl about the face and shoulders with a large piece of blackened Sea Bass. The Sea Bass assault when on for about a minute, with me mixing in hysterical pounding from a shaker of Sea Salt that I had in my other hand, until I was apparently knocked unconscious by a swift clobber to the side of the head by a huge plastic swordfish that a young male waiter had ripped from a nearby wall. Next thing I know, I am laying out back, by the dumpsters, and awaken to find myself staring at a couple dozen boxes of “Gorton’s Fishsticks”, empty cans of “Starkist Tuna”, and empty bags of “Sams Club”-brand Shrimp laying all over the pavement next to the dumpster and my idiot body. I stood up, brushed myself off, pointed down at the empty fish stick boxes and started yelling “I KNEW IT!! I KNEW IT!!!”.

Eating with me is never a dull experience.

Loud, painful, filled with screaming, people running in terror for the exits, babies crying, and the sounds of things breaking, but never dull.

***From the Archives, Aug 2010 ********

Time to revisit a feature that I have not done in quite a while, the local crime blotter. Yes, these are actual Police calls as reported by our local Sheriff’s Office in my area of Rural North Texas. This is always the funniest read in the online edition of the paper, in that these calls are completely real. The offenders and callers are all assumed to be complete idiots until proven otherwise in a Court of Law. (Most all plead guilty to being Idiots before ever going to trial)

2800 BLOCK OF U.S. 81/287 NORTH – A woman advised her ex-boyfriend was harassing her via calls to her cell phone. She later complained that her current boyfriend is too controlling.

(She sounds like a real catch)

200 block of Rook Ramsey Road – A woman reported that her husband hit her in the hand with a Kleenex box.

(I can picture it now, the county SWAT team has the house surrounded, with the lead negotiator calling out over a bullhorn… “Come on out Leroy! We got ya surrounded!! Toss the Kleenex box down onto the floor and come out with your hands up and no one has to get hurt!!”….. This is Texas. Assault with a Kleenex box can get you 40 years to Life in the State Pen. If you are a Minority, or a Democrat, it could get you the Death Penalty)

500 BLOCK OF OAK HILLS DRIVE – A woman said someone urinated on her porch and then rang the door bell.
100 block of County Road 1111 – A man exposed himself to his neighbor by urinating through a hole in a privacy fence. He was arrested.
300 Block of Prairie View – Woman complained that her husband had killed all of her houseplants after discovering he had been urinating on them within the home.

(Obviously, we have a large criminal element in the county that uses the human bladder as their preferred weapon of choice. Of course, there is the slight possibility that this is all the works of the same Urinary-Deranged man, and we, in fact, have a serial Urinator on our hands)

200 block of Private Road 4476 – A man said he was being assaulted by mutants. He was taken to MHMR.

(I will have to check the address, but I am pretty sure this is the address of our local Wal-Mart. The man was obviously trying to dig through the $5 DVD bin at Wally World while fighting off the cheap DVD Mutants trying to get that last copy of “Ernest Scared Stupid”)

200 block of County Road 3799 – A man reported that his ex-wife shoved a Ding Dong in his face.

(I sure hope it was not her CURRENT husbands Ding Dong…… if you know what I mean…. And good grief! What kind of able bodied human male actually makes this call to the Police? You could eat least say she came at you with a chainsaw or a hatchet, but to actually admit you were assaulted with a DING DONG? Good Lord man!! Grow a pair!!)

100 BLOCK OF COUNTY ROAD 3690 – A man reported seeing imaginary people on his lawn.

(Now now….let’s not rush to judgement. Maybe the poor man really did see Sarah Palin shooting Liberal Ducks from the lawn adjacent to the man’s swimming pool…)