Wednesday, May 19, 2010


As a senior citizen it is my intention to call attention to more effective prevention and try to stem a possible tide of epidemic infection of unendurable dimension.

In my frequent hospitalizations for non-fatal infections and accidents like crashing into walls and falls due to my carelessness and clumsiness have left my muscles in an awful mess.

In my residence in a home where elder occupants persist in very unsanitary practices and endanger the health and wholesomeness of the rest of us.

I’ve written about those who blow their nose in paper napkins and spit in disposable paper and plastic plates and leave possible spreadable germs behind without caring about who or how many their neglect could infect.

The response of irresponsible diners and whiners: waiters should wash their hands to prevent disease spreading incidents.
How many irresponsibly neglect to wash after they wipe, are in a rush and don’t bother to flush, who are aware of germs in the air but just don’t seem to care?

I’m not just a crabby old guy. I care about the health of my community and national immunity. I’ll persist to insist others who resist their irresponsibility by refusing to take this matter seriously must wake up and see the potential disaster that could wipe away a significant segment of innocent humanity.

Massive waves of death that could have been saved occurred many times in history as rodents thrived on debris that littered streets, people ate spoiled meats, polluted water was in common use and health rules were abused.

Lack of effective medication and non-existent sanitation once wiped out half the world’s population. Could similar tragedy happen again? It might if we don’t do what’s right.

Sunday, May 16, 2010


“‘Slim” Jim, do you remember him? They called him that because he was so fat. He was more than that. He was obese. But he never ceased to at least to try to be true to the gym where he came to work out and to make out with fatties he loved to woo. His “Sweetiepie” at the gym and the Y loved him, too, but couldn’t stand the things he’d do when he spied Jenny’s fat ass go jogging by.

Jim would turn around and chase Jenny down the track and whack her backside, yell “Giddy yap!” and shout a cowboy “Yahoo!” and all the runners knew Slim Jim was in the gym.

Jenny’d stop and say to him, “You all should stop thumping my rump.” and giggle and wiggle her rear coquettishly, then resume her lap around the track.

Sweetiepie would laugh a bit to cover up the fact she resented it and let it pass, but inwardly she cried because her lover thought so little of her that he’d play this same old game and shame her constantly.

Sometimes at night after they’d made love that seemed so right any mention of Jenny would start a fight. He’d angrily turn on the light and she’d stare at his grotesque undressed body and her own.

Jlm would see the tear in her eyes and suddenly realize his foolishness caused more stress than he could bear. He took her in his arms and kissed away her tears.

“First let me say Jenny means nothing to me. Yesterday, when I acted that way, I don’t know why. Something just comes over me.” Jim promised never again to “thump Jenny’s rump,” but she knew he would. Sometimes she’d stand nude on her bathroom scale and think of Jim and recite the verse she once read that said it all: “When a girl gets fat as an alley cat and craves romance, forget what might be in his pants. If he sees what pleases him in his head and you do, too, nature will tell you what to do.”

Jim was her first and last chance for romance and she knew it. Let Jim thump Nelly’s rump, but when Sweetie Pie and Jim thumped belly to belly, that was ecstasy.

Saturday, May 08, 2010


It’s probable, it’s possible, it’s incredible, but not inevitable that the End of Days is on its way.

The year and day are hard to say in spite of precise predictions and Biblical convictions God conceived and are believed by most but not by all.

Historians have been so wrong so long about Dooms Day’s Day of Retribution that any contribution they project would be suspect and more than likely, incorrect.

Then, the questions are not when, but why and how and will God allow this catastrophe to be? The Why? God alone knows and He is wise so anyone who tries to second guess Him, God bless him, will probably make the same mistake the devoted made when they voted for war, misquoted the Bible and denied His justifiable reasons why His act is based on these simple facts: there are too few who trust that He is just and will do what He must do to cleanse the world of greed and lust, that it’s a sin to violate the Commandment “Thou shalt not kill,” and to love, not hate a single soul and is the responsibility of one and all. To cherish the land on which we live and give back to it gratefully and willingly. To be thankful for its greenery and scenery.

So many have done so much to destroy the Earth.Two few respect its worth not in oil or gold, but as a place to hold your head up high, to embrace the gift of life until you die and say goodbye, perhaps with a sigh, but not a tear and a thank you to the Lord that put you here.

It’s not too late to change the fate of the Universe. The When and How are now up to you and all Humanity to prove your worth as children of God on Planet Earth. And if all comply. God is kind and should change his mind and grant the world one last chance.


It is no longer a suggestion or a question. It is not science fiction making a prediction. It is an absolute. undisputed scientific fact that there were and still could be in a far distant galaxy two giant stars more advanced than ours. one thousand light years away that may or may not still be there today.

This somewhat hesitant revelation’s based on speculation that what once was may be no more because unanticipated events often influence consequence.

This information we share came to light last night after a top secret investigation to verify its authentication.

The reason for hedging pledging full support of of this report is based on time element when a statement was sent in numeral code millenniums ago from far off outer space, translated by the U S. and other nations. The similarity of complex text from independent analytic groups lends proof of the outer space authenticity.

The document was sent via unmanned satellite a thousand light years away the night before two all powerful planets were set to wage atomic war. If their war began as planned and both nations blew each other to atomic smithereens this mad event must be documented by planetary history.

We who are now alive will never know the outcome of that war that was launched before our world began and Man was just a grain of sand.

But we might be related to humans yet to be created and be dedicated to a future world where war is a sin, has never been and cannot be, according to the Lord’s decree.

Thursday, May 06, 2010


According to the Webster Dairy Dictionary, and backed by the Farmer’s Almanac, when a cow says ’‘MOO!” she’s telling her bullfriend what she wants him to do.

To stress her wishes she swishes her tail to and fro and points to the place her better half has to go to help her make a calf. In due course, of course. twin calves are born, a baby bull, an infant cow.

The daddy now knows how to make a steer by whispering in her ear and doing what she wants him to do. Every time she’chose to moo, which she did frequently, the barnyard family grew accordingly.

The cow that mooed was in a moody mood and her dude found the place where calves are created. And she knew how to get her better half to make a calf.

That was many moos ago. Ma cow moos no more because daddy bull refuses to respond to the mooing call. He’s a bushed bull. a worn out dud and doesn’t even want to be the stud he used to be.

Then one day the weary, worn out steer imparted these parting words to the herd who heard his sad farewell:

“I have fathered my last calf and decided to retire from the sire game. I want to relax, watch the TV evening moos, chew my cud and dream of the stud days of my past. I plan to take a long vacation and leave calf creation up to artificial insemination.”

After a mooment of silence, the thousand head the bull had bred bowed their heads and mooed the saddest moo ever heard by a herd.

Now they’re just a lot of chopped meat at the local Wallmart store.