Miss Universe Big Mac

I think that all the contestants of Miss Universe must go straight to McDonald's when the competition is over and order a Big Mac with Fries and a Coke. They have to be STARVING themselves they are so skinny! It's ridiculous!

I bet they might even get the 2 Apple Pies for a Dollar!

Mmmmm... That sounds good!

T.P.

So I sell uClean Toilet Tissue, aka Toilet Paper, aka Bathroom tissue, aka T.P., aka bum wiping paper.

I sell Kleenex Cottonelle Toilet Tissue and SCA Savoy Toilet Tissue. Both are premium quality toilet tissue! Both have lots sheets per roll so you don't have to change them out very often.

Besides TP, I sell Vacuum Cleaners, janitorial equipment and supply, and LOTS of other cleaning products!

I Can't Drive... 75!

I just don't think I can do it! It's just SOOO SLOW... My car feels like it's just itching to get warmed up about the time I get going 75. At 85, it sort lets out a grin, at 95, it actually smiles, and at 105 it lets out a little giggle. Now at 115 it gets serious again and starts to look intent. And finally at 125 there's a look of satisfaction at a job well done.

I've only ever gone 125, so I don't know what the car would look like at 130, or even 140, but someday I'll know. Maybe on the way home!

Check that...

Real pain isn't the first two... Those two heal...

Pain Is...

A laser shooting your leg repeatedly.

A hand squeezing so hard the finger nails leave a mark seen for hours afterward.

Losing a friend and love, again.

My Memories Smell...

It's amazing to me how smells or even sounds can make memories come flooding back. I know sight can bring memories back, but I think smell is even stronger. It seems to affect the mind more than sight. Sight's easy, smell or sound is harder. You have to really dig deep into your mind and heart to pull out the memory.

The smell of a pillow, or a perfume, or even a general smell of a room can make you remember and feel so much. And those feelings are real. Those feelings are strong. They are important to have in your heart.

HATE My Lawn/Jungle...

That DAMN LAWN took me about 2 and 1/2 hours to cut today. Filled up a WHOLE garbage can.

I HATE MOWING THE LAWN!!!

I HATE PEOPLE who say it's THERAPEUTIC!!! They are just stupid people. Seriously, they just don't have enough brain cells!

I HATE PEOPLE with PERFECT lawns! ESPECIALLY OLD PEOPLE!!! I'm supposed to be the young, vibrant, energetic guy with the great yard, not them!

I HATE PEOPLE who have LAWN SERVICE!!! Because plain flat out, I'm jealous! I can't afford it yet, so I just envy them.

I HATE PEOPLE who have no WEEDS OR CRABGRASS in their lawn. This really goes back to the LAWN SERVICE thing. They've got it. I don't...

Astroturf??? Not a bad idea.. Not a bad idea at all!!!

Self Bogey Golf

I played 18 holes today, exactly bogey golf.

I played 18 holes today ALL BY MYSELF and the best I could come up with was BOGEY GOLF??? What's wrong with me? I was BY MYSELF!!! No one within two holes of me either direction. So I could have lied and come up with at least a good 80 or even an 82, but no, I have to post my REAL score.

I'm not a very good golfer.

Rainy Days and Weekdays...

Anyone who grows up in Las Vegas HAS to LOVE it when it rains. And since I am a Las Vegan at heart, I certainly do LOVE the rain. But I still live in the Desert, so why is the weather acting like Seattle? We're going on like a month straight with rain. And it's rained almost every Saturday for a month, so my golf game has been severely neglected.

My grass is growing like a rain forest. I worry about my son wandering out into the yard for fear we might go years before finding him. I envision him getting lost in the grass, and they years later coming out like Robin Williams did in the movie Jumanji. He's wearing a grass skirt, shoes he's fashioned from the rubber hose he found while in the jungle, and knows how to make a delicious garden snake casserole.

Good news (and I hope I'm not jinxing myself here) is that the forecast for this Saturday is sunny and warm. Of course this is a mixed blessing. I WILL go chase that stupid white ball all over the course, get my foul language polished up, and get a sunburn on my forehead and neck. The bad news is, I will have to get up extra early and find my machete so I can clear off the driveway of the grass growing over it.

I guess if I'm lucky, I'll just finish playing golf as the rain clouds roll in so I can use that old excuse of not being able to cut wet grass because it might harm my lawn mower.

Rain Rain Go Away, Come Back after Eighteen Holes on Saturday!!!

My Mom

I know there are many people out there that believe that their Mom is best. Well, I'm sorry to burst all of your bubbles, but MY MOM IS THE BEST! I'm not being boastful, or prideful, since my Mother taught me better than that. I'm not bragging, since my Mother taught me not to do that. I'm just telling the truth, since yes, you guessed it, she taught me that as well. I couldn't have asked, bartered, traded, bought, sold, or otherwise concocted any better Mother than you.

My Mom is truly incredible. She works so hard. And I don't mean at a 8:00 to 5:00 job necessarily. It's at anything she does. She works so hard being a Mom. She works so hard at being a Grandma. She works hard at being a good neighbor, friend, church member, club member, etc...

When I was 9 years old, I was a wrestler. I was good. I dominated my age group and the age group above me. I was wrestling two and even three years ahead of my age group. It came to the finals, and I was wrestling a Man/Boy that I'm pretty sure not only drove himself to the match, but brought a couple of his teenage children with him. He was BIG, MEAN, UGLY, and did I mention BIG?

I was pretty fearless, but this gorilla struck fear in my gut, and quite possibly my pants, but I can't remember. My Mom stood next to me Mat-Side and gave me moral support and stood ready to provide life support if the need arose, which seemed rather possible looking at the goon across from me. My Mom turned me towards her. She looked me in the eye and told me that no matter what happened, when I thought I was about to give up, just hold on one more minute. She promised me that as tired as I was, as much as I wanted to give up, the other guy would be feeling the same way and if I just held on a little longer, I would win. Youth being very trusting I took her at her word.

I started to approach the center of the mat. The guy across from me put out his cigarette, kissed his wife and moved towards me sneering all the way no doubt believing me to be his appetizer for the steak dinner he was going to get later. We fought long and hard. I wore him down. And just when I thought I was going to have to give up, I remembered my Mom and held on. I won.

Years later, on the first day of "Hell Week" of Freshman football, I was scared to death, and my Mom told me the same advice. Just hold on a little longer than the next guy and you'll win. I won.

Each year of football my Mom gave me the same advice, and, I won.

My Mom taught me many things, but sometimes, when the goings getting rough, and I just don't feel like I can make it anymore, I hold on just a little bit longer and usually....

I Win.

Thanks Mom, I love you very much!

You Are Now Free to Tweeze About the Country...

I was on a Southwest Airlines flight recently to Chicago. Midway through the flight my bladder decided the many Diet Coke's were enough and needed to be relieved. I started my way back to the lavatory and saw one of the female flight attendants leaning over with her back to me. I couldn't see what she was leaning over until I got right behind her.

Seated in one of the flight attendant seats was a MALE flight attendant. The female attendant was in the process of plucking with a pair of tweezers the MALE attendants eyebrows. Yes, I repeat, plucking HIS eyebrows. I got right behind them looking at this and just started to laugh, right outloud. They quickly stopped and looked at me like teenage kids caught necking. It only made me laugh harder. They both tried to say something, alternating looks at me and each other. Once again, it only made me laugh harder. This only made them squirm more. All I could say, and I swear I really said this, was "Well, that's interesting."

I went into the bathroom laughing, having a hard time concentrating on the chore at hand, or should I say, in hand. When I left the restroom, only the male flight attendant was there, and he said something like, "she said that she couldn't work with someone with a uni-brow..." with a nervous chuckle. I just smiled and laughed harder, making him feel even more ridiculous.

DING!

Gotta Love PITA's!

What more can I say?