Mornin' Folks - Ole here.
Lena's busy cooking in the kitchen and said she wouldn't have time for an entry today, so I'm just sneaking in here to put my two cents in. She's out there slaving over a hot stove cooking up a storm because we've got the threshing crew here today and they're going to be hungry. Well, actually it's the shingling crew. Dick, Ted, Scott, Lars, Lovely Daughter and I will be up on the roof ripping off all the old shingles and installing new ones.
Lena has told me that she rarely gets into anything political or religious on her blog - everybody has and is entitled to their own viewpoints and regardless of what you say you're never going to change someone else's - so she just leaves it alone. But - - I have some thoughts on how GW could end the war and come out smelling like a rose politically.
Here goes:
Send Service Vets over 60. I am over 60 and the Armed Forces think I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military.
They've got the whole thing ass backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 35.
For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old farts only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than 28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy.
Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. My back hurts! I can't sleep, I'm tired and hungry. We are impatient and maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for awhile.
An 18 -year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys always get up early to pee so what the hell. Besides, like I said, I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical son-of-a-bitch.
If captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser.
Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at, and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling. (Uh-oh - here comes Lena with the rolling pin - Just kidding, Lena).
They could lighten up on the obstacle course, however. I've been in combat and didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training. I can hear the Drill Sgt. in the New army now, 'Get down and give me ... ER .. one.' Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I've never seen anyone out run a bullet.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave and to start up a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head.
These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those dirty rotten coward terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million pissed-off old farts with attitude and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them.
If nothing else, put us on border patrol...we will have it secured the first night!
And that's all I have to say about that.
It's been fun, Folks. Enjoy your day!
Ole
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tweaking Mrs. OCD
Okay, Folks. I know your chomping at the bit to find out how Jane acted at our potluck and bonfire on Sunday evening.
Just as I expected.
Dick and Jane arrived with their daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and daughter’s 3-month old puppy, none of whom were invited. She arrived with a very sour expression on her face and the only people that she spoke to all evening were her immediate family. Everyone else was laughing and telling stories and generally having a good time, but Jane never cracked a smile all evening. Bob said he made a point of watching her and if she had smiled her face would have cracked. It was very evident that she didn’t want to be there.
About the time that Ole started the fire Jane disappeared into the screen room and talked on the phone for a very long time. Then I saw her walk through the garage, down the driveway out to where their car was parked. When she didn’t come back after a period of time I went into the house and looked out my bedroom window. She couldn’t see me because the room was dark – but I could see her!! There she was sitting in the car listening to the radio. I guess we were all too boring for her to hang around with – or maybe it was because she wasn’t the center of attention. She didn’t have Bernie and Beth to feed off of and act up with. Tsk, tsk, tsk, too damn bad, isn’t it. Last time they were together at one of our bonfires they all drank way too much, pulled up their shirts and bras and walked around with their boobs flopping all over the place. And these women are all in the 50s and wear at least a 44DD.
Now I KNOW we weren’t boring because there was a lot of story telling and joke telling going on. I ran into Bob and Carol the next day and Bob said his sides still hurt from laughing so hard. I guess it’s just Jane’s loss if she refuses to have any fun. And if she thinks she’s making the rest of us pay, well, she’s being fooled now, isn’t she. I just wish we could invite Dick and tell him to leave Jane at home.
Well, actually I guess we could. Dick’s 50th birthday is coming the end of June and Jane is planning a party for him. She’s told one of her friends, Lee, that she’s invited, but she has to leave her significant other home. He’s not allowed to come because he gets to be such a horse’s arse when he’s been drinking. Now if SHE can do it, why can’t I? The only problem is that she would make life so miserable for Dick that he wouldn’t come either.
Maybe Jane was so miserable on Sunday night because she would rather have been out with her male “friend” than with any of us.
Enough about Jane. Now I have to tell you something funny. Well, at least Ole and I thought it was pretty funny.
Let me give you a bit of background: There is a lady, we’ll call her Mrs. OCD at this point, who is currently on the alter guild at our church. This means that she’s in charge of seeing that the correct clothes are on the alter, the appropriate wall hangings are hung, and that the flowers and candles are arranged nicely. She’s also to see that everything is laundered and pressed. Well, us gals who have worked with her on other projects know that she is truly a fussbudget. You know, one of those people who think they are the only ones who can do anything right. They follow behind and redo everyone’s work to their satisfaction and specifications. Nobody wants to work on any committees with her because she’s such a control freak and there’s only one way to do something – her way.
So anyway, Ole, being a trustee of the church was there on Saturday afternoon installing a new hot water heater. The closet that the hot water heater was in happened to be located where he could see what was going on in the sanctuary. It took him about an hour and a half to get it all installed and when he came home he told me that was the most frustrating hour and a half he had spent in a long time. Not that anything had gone wrong with the installation, but Mrs. OCD was there checking on the alter to make sure everything was in place for Sunday morning. He said she spent the entire hour and a half rearranging flowers. She would turn the vases a quarter of an inch and then walk back halfway to the door to look from a distance. Obviously they weren’t right, so she’d turn them another quarter of an inch, walk back, check. Nope – still not right so she’d have to slide the vase a little more to the left or right – walk back – check – nope still not right. An hour and a half, People, turn, walk back, check, nope – wash, rinse and repeat. He said he had the greatest urge to just run up to the front of the sanctuary, take all the vases and just dump all the flowers all over the floor.
Anyway, later that evening Ole decided he needed to go back to the church to check all the water lines for leaks and make sure everything was up to snuff on the water heater. I rode along, as did Lovely Daughter and Lars. He had been telling Lovely Daughter and Lars about how Mrs. OCD spent her afternoon and I thought they would split a gut. Anyway, we all got out and went into the church, Ole to the closet to check for leaks. Lovely Daughter had something else on her mind – she opened the door to the sanctuary and pranced right up to the alter and started moving vases of flowers – twisting a half a turn here and there and moving the vases so they were no longer in the center of the flower stand. Nothing to the point that it looked bad, just enough to skew everything. Just enough to drive Mrs. OCD crazy.
Ole and I went to church the next morning and sat two rows behind Mrs. OCD and her husband. She obviously had gotten there late enough so that she couldn’t go up front and correct everything, but she kept leaning over and whispering in her hubby’s ear and pointing at different things up at the alter. Poor thing – I bet she thought she had lost her mind.
So later, when fellowship was almost over, I was sitting at a table with our Pastor and several other folks. I knew they all had a sense of humor so I told this story. I thought the Pastor was going to roll on the floor from laughing. Everyone else really gave it a cackle too. I wonder if Mrs. OCD will ever recover?
I guess you can tell that Lovely Daughter is definitely her father’s daughter – always up for a trick or a practical joke. Now I would never do anything like that – nuh-uh.
Just as I expected.
Dick and Jane arrived with their daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter and daughter’s 3-month old puppy, none of whom were invited. She arrived with a very sour expression on her face and the only people that she spoke to all evening were her immediate family. Everyone else was laughing and telling stories and generally having a good time, but Jane never cracked a smile all evening. Bob said he made a point of watching her and if she had smiled her face would have cracked. It was very evident that she didn’t want to be there.
About the time that Ole started the fire Jane disappeared into the screen room and talked on the phone for a very long time. Then I saw her walk through the garage, down the driveway out to where their car was parked. When she didn’t come back after a period of time I went into the house and looked out my bedroom window. She couldn’t see me because the room was dark – but I could see her!! There she was sitting in the car listening to the radio. I guess we were all too boring for her to hang around with – or maybe it was because she wasn’t the center of attention. She didn’t have Bernie and Beth to feed off of and act up with. Tsk, tsk, tsk, too damn bad, isn’t it. Last time they were together at one of our bonfires they all drank way too much, pulled up their shirts and bras and walked around with their boobs flopping all over the place. And these women are all in the 50s and wear at least a 44DD.
Now I KNOW we weren’t boring because there was a lot of story telling and joke telling going on. I ran into Bob and Carol the next day and Bob said his sides still hurt from laughing so hard. I guess it’s just Jane’s loss if she refuses to have any fun. And if she thinks she’s making the rest of us pay, well, she’s being fooled now, isn’t she. I just wish we could invite Dick and tell him to leave Jane at home.
Well, actually I guess we could. Dick’s 50th birthday is coming the end of June and Jane is planning a party for him. She’s told one of her friends, Lee, that she’s invited, but she has to leave her significant other home. He’s not allowed to come because he gets to be such a horse’s arse when he’s been drinking. Now if SHE can do it, why can’t I? The only problem is that she would make life so miserable for Dick that he wouldn’t come either.
Maybe Jane was so miserable on Sunday night because she would rather have been out with her male “friend” than with any of us.
Enough about Jane. Now I have to tell you something funny. Well, at least Ole and I thought it was pretty funny.
Let me give you a bit of background: There is a lady, we’ll call her Mrs. OCD at this point, who is currently on the alter guild at our church. This means that she’s in charge of seeing that the correct clothes are on the alter, the appropriate wall hangings are hung, and that the flowers and candles are arranged nicely. She’s also to see that everything is laundered and pressed. Well, us gals who have worked with her on other projects know that she is truly a fussbudget. You know, one of those people who think they are the only ones who can do anything right. They follow behind and redo everyone’s work to their satisfaction and specifications. Nobody wants to work on any committees with her because she’s such a control freak and there’s only one way to do something – her way.
So anyway, Ole, being a trustee of the church was there on Saturday afternoon installing a new hot water heater. The closet that the hot water heater was in happened to be located where he could see what was going on in the sanctuary. It took him about an hour and a half to get it all installed and when he came home he told me that was the most frustrating hour and a half he had spent in a long time. Not that anything had gone wrong with the installation, but Mrs. OCD was there checking on the alter to make sure everything was in place for Sunday morning. He said she spent the entire hour and a half rearranging flowers. She would turn the vases a quarter of an inch and then walk back halfway to the door to look from a distance. Obviously they weren’t right, so she’d turn them another quarter of an inch, walk back, check. Nope – still not right so she’d have to slide the vase a little more to the left or right – walk back – check – nope still not right. An hour and a half, People, turn, walk back, check, nope – wash, rinse and repeat. He said he had the greatest urge to just run up to the front of the sanctuary, take all the vases and just dump all the flowers all over the floor.
Anyway, later that evening Ole decided he needed to go back to the church to check all the water lines for leaks and make sure everything was up to snuff on the water heater. I rode along, as did Lovely Daughter and Lars. He had been telling Lovely Daughter and Lars about how Mrs. OCD spent her afternoon and I thought they would split a gut. Anyway, we all got out and went into the church, Ole to the closet to check for leaks. Lovely Daughter had something else on her mind – she opened the door to the sanctuary and pranced right up to the alter and started moving vases of flowers – twisting a half a turn here and there and moving the vases so they were no longer in the center of the flower stand. Nothing to the point that it looked bad, just enough to skew everything. Just enough to drive Mrs. OCD crazy.
Ole and I went to church the next morning and sat two rows behind Mrs. OCD and her husband. She obviously had gotten there late enough so that she couldn’t go up front and correct everything, but she kept leaning over and whispering in her hubby’s ear and pointing at different things up at the alter. Poor thing – I bet she thought she had lost her mind.
So later, when fellowship was almost over, I was sitting at a table with our Pastor and several other folks. I knew they all had a sense of humor so I told this story. I thought the Pastor was going to roll on the floor from laughing. Everyone else really gave it a cackle too. I wonder if Mrs. OCD will ever recover?
I guess you can tell that Lovely Daughter is definitely her father’s daughter – always up for a trick or a practical joke. Now I would never do anything like that – nuh-uh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
