Junk Mail*

*Formerly known as Random Thoughts and a FFFYPDK

First, why the name change?  Two reasons: (1) Why not?  (2) No one suggested anything better. 

Next, why is it called junk mail?  Like most junk mail it’s not imperative that you read it, unless you’re into 90-minute timeshare presentations, extending your magazine subscriptions or saving the planet, one dime at a time.  However, if you’re a glutton for punishment, then junk mail is right up your alley (as you’ll soon find out).

·      My grandson (barely two months into first grade) and I were in the yard the other day when he noticed a mushroom growing in a flower pot.  I told him I didn’t remember him planting any mushroom seeds, and he proceeded to tell me about fungus and spores and that there are no such things as mushroom seeds.  I immediately realized my days of making sh*t up when I’m explaining things to my grandson are over.

·      Why isn’t there a merit badge in Boy Scouts for cynicism?  They already give one for golf and it’s almost the same thing.  And by ‘almost the same thing’ I mean ‘equally invaluable.’       

·      A couple phrases I heard lately worth sharing:

I laughed so hard tears ran down my leg.

Eating makeup won’t make you look pretty on the inside.

Stupid should hurt.

·      My dentist said I needed a crown and I was like ‘I know, right?’

·      I always get a kick out of a doctor taking an X-ray of some part of my body and saying ‘as you can clearly see’ while showing me what appears to be a Rorschach test. The only thing I clearly see is that he doesn’t understand I didn’t graduate from medical school.  Hell, I just barely passed the MCAT.  

·      On a similar note, I have the same sense of being lost in space when our IT guy at work explains to me what is wrong with my computer.  Here’s what I literally hear him saying: ‘Blah blah blah blah BLAH blah blah BLAH fixed now BLAH blah blah.’  At some point—usually after the 8^th or 9^th ‘blah’ I click on the mouse, verify the fix is in place and say ‘thank you,’ which he may or not hear depending on whether or not he is finished talking.   

·      My friend’s 89-year old stepfather lives in a bedroom at the back of her house.  The other day she walked in the front door and he met her in the middle of the house brandishing a loaded gun saying ‘next time let me know you’re in the house.’  I told her the next time she needed someone to feed her dogs while she was away to let me know.  I have a long list of people I could send over.

·      If I were President of the United States I would designate the Bull Sh*t Police (BSP).  They would be responsible for literally doling out bitch slaps to anyone engaged in bull sh*t.  Immediately coming to mind are people who don’t use their turn signals, fail to remove their hats during the Pledge of Allegiance at sporting events and/or exceed the limit in the express lane at the supermarket.  Interested in being one of the BSP?  The line starts here. 

·      ___________________________________________________________ (Official BSP signup line)

·      My favorite song changes all the time.  Today it’s Conquistador by Procul Harum.  Last week it was Deep Purple’s Woman from Tokyo.  I blame this conundrum on ear wax.  I blame my use of the word ‘conundrum’ on a desire to appear much smarter than I actually am.  I blame ear wax on Q-tips.     

·      This morning I found a Brussel sprout in my pocket.  It may have been there for a while since it was my back pocket and I don’t have a reason to go there very often other than to check for Brussel sprouts. 

·      I used to carry a rabbit’s foot around for luck.  Actually it was four feet as they were still connected to the rabbit.  Technically it wasn’t a rabbit, but a rat with really long ears and missing a tail.  Long story.  Probably best you forget I mentioned this altogether.   

·      The world would be a better place if no one spoke during a Barry White song.     

·      Does anyone else think when sideline reporters speak during college football telecasts it is the verbal equivalent of ‘tripping over your own d*ck.’  (That would be figuratively speaking, Ron Jeremy.  Not literally.)  As President I would make this Priority One for my newly-created BSP.   

·      It would be cool if every so often the Star Spangled Anthem was replaced by In A Gadda Da Vida.  Not the short version; rather the 17-minute one they play on the satellite stations.

·      When people used to ask me ‘Do you know what I don’t understand?’  I would always say ‘Logarithms?’  I have since replaced ‘logarithms’ with ‘the spread offense.’  It works just as well.  That is to say using the phrase, not the spread offense.  I still lean towards the triple option. 

·      Empire is nothing more than a musical version of Dynasty minus the Moldavian Wedding Massacre.  So far, anyway. 

·      The more I read on WebMD, the sicker I feel.  I have WebMDmentia.

·      Silence, please.  I hear You’re the First, My Last, My Everything playing in the other room.    

·      For those of you confused by ‘I laughed so hard tears ran down my leg,’ give it time.  One day you’ll understand.  Everyone does, eventually. 

·      I heard a rule of thumb when it comes to spring cleaning: If you haven’t worn or used something in a year you should get rid of it.  When I mentioned this to someone they suggested something I should get rid of.  I responded by telling them I still needed it to laugh.