PG-Rated Re: Splinter Infestation

The following funny story isn't necessarily a reflection of 100% of my political/social views.  I'm sharing it here just because it's simply funny, though it also DOES make one think about things.

My personal political/social views are:

President Obama is doing a fine job while placed in a situation where he, too often, ends up with his hands tied.  I know he must be very frustrated.  I know that I would be, if I were walking in his shoes now.

I believe that there's an excess of political/administrative red tape in the world of politics and that this is true now during President Obama's watch, was true during President Junior Bush's watch, and HAS been true for several decades.

There hasn't been a President yet who has been able to completely cut through it to the point of totally being able to get to dealing with the issues completely.

I have some thoughts on this, which I'll be expressing in the book I always seem to be writing but never finishing.  LOL

Anyway, for now, just relax and enjoy this neat story...

Splinters In Her Crotch

A woman from Los Angeles who was a tree hugging, liberal Democrat and an anti-hunter purchased a piece of timberland near Colville, WA.  

There was a large tree on one of the highest points in the tract. 

She wanted a good view of the natural splendor of her land so she started to climb the big tree. 

As she neared the top she encountered a spotted owl that attacked her.

In her haste to escape, the woman slid down the tree to the ground and got many splinters in her crotch.  

In considerable pain, she hurried to a local ER to see a doctor. 

She told him she was an environmentalist, a Democrat, and an anti-hunter and how she came to get all the splinters.  

The doctor listened to her story with great patience and then told her to go wait in the examining room and he would see if he could help her.  

She sat and waited three hours before the doctor reappeared. 

The angry woman demanded, "What took you so long?" 

He smiled and then told her, "Well, I had to get permits from the Environmental Protection Agency, the Forest Service, and the Bureau of Land Management before I could remove old-growth timber from a 'recreational area' so close to a waste treatment facility. I'm sorry, but due to Obama-Care they turned you down."

"Don't say I didn't warn you!"


 A Painful Seat-u-ation

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This probably made her feel so crabby...


A serial canary swallower?
Don't worry!
It will all come out in the kitty-litter...

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!!!Pain majorly bites!!!

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Chain o'Pain

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A Bummer 4 Buns

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Cactus Collision Calamity


What pain we sometimes go through to look beautiful!


"Hey you with the apple-tite:
Let me say
YOU REALLY BITE
!!!!!!!!!!!!"

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Making Fried Potatoes Back In 1968

 The following is my response to the question--posted in If you grew up in Anderson, IN. re: if you remember something you made in shop and/or home ec. class...

Among other things, when I was in Mrs. Virginia Flatt's home ec class during my freshman year of high school (first two years of high school took place at Markleville High School and second two years at the newly consolidated Pendleton Heights High School) during the 1967-68 school year, I made a matching skirt and sleeveless top (the latter generally worn with a blouse under it) that were, if I recall, of a kind of mixed blues paisley pattern.

Another thing I made in there was a serving of burned fried potatoes.  Here's the recipe for them:


Slice up raw potatoes into somewhat circular pieces.

In a skillet, heat shortening or cooking oil (can't remember which) on the highest temperature available on the stove's burner.  When it really gets to sizzling and popping, add potatoes to it and don't bother to lower the heat even a single degree. (Note:  inexperience when it comes to frying foods comes in very handy here in order to achieve the interesting results!).

Add one Tom Jones lookalike (in my eyes) teacher (one used in my recipe was Jerry Eckhardt who taught math and psychology)--but not in the skillet.

Instead, this "ingredient" will appear at the door to the home ec room going on about how something really smells good.

This should make the cook/cook wannabee (me) realize that he's probably talking about the dessert instead of the fried potatoes.

The cook/cook wannabee (me) will then daydream herself into a fantasy of preparing dessert (which she does very well, so why was she assigned those stupid potatoes!?!) for the local Tom Jones--which will result in going into a kind of staring trance in his direction.

During this time, potatoes should turn the desired charcoal color accompanied by the odor of one of Anderson, Indiana's city dumps catching fire.

They will now be done and will be ready to transfer from the skillet into the nearest garbage can!

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