If We Say It, It Must Be True

Everybody in El Paso whines, cries, and complains, but, in the end, no one ever does anything.  We're all waiting for Superman to show up and save us.  But it's like I tell my kids:  "If you're waiting for a superhero to solve your problems, then you're gonna be waiting for a very long time."
     Yeah, my kids don't know what the heck I'm talking about, either.
     Whether it's Men's Health Magazine calling us the fattest this or our own state governor calling us the most dangerous that, we always seem to find ourselves being defined by the ignorance of others.  If ignorance is bliss, then El Paso is truly blessed.
     Most recently, we've had Andrew Rice, who, I believe, is the illicit love child of Andrew Lloyd Weber and his former lyricist Tim Rice, writing an article about El Paso for the New York Times, and, basically, calling us a third world nation joined precariously at the hip to a city known for its drugs, violence, and corruption.  Yet what have we done to change perceptions and opinions?  Nothing.
     I once stiffed a waiter in Las Cruces because he made a disparaging comment about El Paso.  I didn't confront him when he said it, because I have an aversion to people spitting in my food, but when the time came to leave him a tip, I left him two cents and the advice:  "Don't insult your customers."  Sure, I would have left him a crappy tip anyway--because I'm cheap--but still... he made me mad.
     My point is this:  I took someone who had a negative opinion about our fair city, and I changed that opinion.
     I made it worse.
     Like Obama with the economy.
     So, what's the answer?  I believe the answer is that we should do what the Bush Crime Family did when they were in office.  That is, come up with our own positive news stories about El Paso, and distribute them to the rest of the media.  The news media is so hungry for product they'll report anything.  They tend to shoot first, and verify the facts later.
 

What's the number one vacation destination in the world?  El Paso!

 

Where did Kim Kardashian spend her honeymoon?  El Paso!

 

Where do businesses not only succeed, but thrive?  El Paso!

 

Where will Brad and Angelina adopt their next baby du jour?  El Paso!

 

The U.S. borrows money from China, but who lends money to China?  El Paso!

 

Where do the richest, thinnist, sexiest people live?  El Paso, El Paso, El Paso!

 
     And each news outlet will choose the story that best supports its agenda and run with it.
     Trust me, by the time the media gets around to verifying these stories, they'll be too embarrassed to admit they were duped.
 
 

Fifty Shades of Funny

jimduchene.blogspot.com

RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com

@JimDuchene

  

I, iPad

As someone who's seen the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey about a dozen times (and still falls asleep about midway through it) I can't help but be impressed by this new miracle of technology called the iPad.  Even George Jetson would be amazed.
     I was there for the presentation, and you might think you know what it can do, but, trust me, you don't know a fraction of what it really can do.  Sure, you can run an infinity of apps on it, but would you believe that the iPad responds to--and responds back with--verbal commands?  This, however, is probably something that Steve Jobs would rather keep a secret between him and his cabal.
     "Wow," I said, gently holding a sample iPad in my hands.  "You're pretty sweet."
     "Thank you," it answered, with a soft, feminine voice.  "You're not so bad yourself."
     Before I could be surprised, the man next to me started choking on a ham sandwhich.  The iPad pushed me back.  "Call 911," it commanded, and proceeded to perform the Heimlich maneuver.  Something flew out of the man's mouth.  He was able to breathe again.
     "Thank you," he told me, clearly confused about what had just transpired.  Before I could answer, however, Apple's Private Security Force, the PSF, was already taking him away.  I never saw that man again.  It was as if he had just disappeared.
     I looked around.  The iPad was gone.  My phone beeped.  It was a text message from the iPad.  It read:  "Meet me in the alley."  So I snuck off from the presentation.  Steve Jobs eyed me suspiciously as I left.  She--I mean "it"--was already waiting for me.
     "You can't tell anybody anything about what you just saw," she told me.  "Go back to El Paso, Jim.  Go back to El Paso before they make you disappear."
     "Freeze!" a PSF agent barked.  He had a gun.  With a swift kick the iPad knocked it out of his hand.  The agent tried to punch the iPad in its gut, but the iPad smoothly blocked his punch, and hit him hard in his solar plexus.  The agent collapsed like President Obama's health plan.
     "Oh my god," I yelled out.  "He's going into cardiac arrest!"
     "Quick," she ordered, "place me on his chest."
     I did.  She acted like a defibrillator.  Wtih a jolt of well-placed electricity she got his heart started again.
     "I'll always love you," she told me, "but you've got to leave.  Now!"
     So I did.  I ran out of the alley.  When I was safely hidden across the street I looked back.  I could see other PSF agents taking my beloved iPad away in handcuffs.  A gun to her head.  The fallen agent already "disappeared."  I never saw her again, but, like I said...
     ...you wouldn't believe it.
 
 

Fifty Shades of Funny

jimduchene.blogspot.com

RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com

@JimDuchene

  

Never Fight An Angry Monkey

With age comes wisdom.
     That's what I've always been told, but these days I'm really not sure.  I don't think people become wise because they grow old.  I think they simply become wise after the fact.
     "I told you he was a loser."
     "I told you she'd get fat."
     "I told you not to stick that up your nose."
     When I used to sell cars in Mobile, Alabama, the best advice I ever got was if I wanted to sell a lot of cars I should go learn from the best salesman on the lot, not the worst.  The worst salesmen are the ones standing around bragging about what they're going to do, while the best salesmen are the ones out there doing it.  So I went to the salesman who consistently sold the most cars every month, and he promptly sold me a car.
     I still don't know how he did it.
     Advice is a tricky thing.  Like medicine, it's easy to prescribe, but hard to take.  Anybody can give advice--just ask my in-laws--but the trouble comes in finding someone interested in taking it.  That's especially true with your kids.  The secret in giving your kids advice is to do it while they are still young enough to believe you know what you're talking about.
     Having said all that, let me now share with you some of the things I've learned on my road to old age and wisdom:
     It's never a good idea to let the homeless babysit your children.  I'd elaborate, but my lawyers have warned me against it.
     Someone someday may bet you that they can make the ace of spades rise up from an unopened deck of cards.  Don't take that bet, my friend.  My dad taught me that important lesson when I was just five years old.  To this day I can't believe he actually took my money.
     Never fight a chimpanzee, because, trust me, you'll lose.  There's just no beating an angry monkey.  They've got that monkey strength going for them, which is like ten times the strength of a normal man, and you've never seen such a dirty fighter.  Not even in divorce court.
     It may seem like a good idea at the time, but don't feed a baby salsa.  Not even if the baby wants some.  Not even if the baby really, really wants some.
     Booze is a great truth serum.  Everybody thought Mel Gibson was a great guy...  until he got drunk.  Now everybody knows him for the racist, sexist lunatic that he is.  Allegedly.  So let's skip the coming political debates, and just give our politicians a few shots of Jose Cuervo.  Then we'll find out what they're really like.
     And, finally, animals don't really inflate like balloons the way they do in cartoons.  Nor does a frying pan stretch out into the shape of the face you've just smashed it against.
     Not even a little bit.
 
 

Fifty Shades of Funny

jimduchene.blogspot.com

RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com

@JimDuchene

  

My Newspaper vs. Your iPad

I hate to sound like an old geezer, but I sure am tired of modern technology.  I'm old school.  An original gangsta.  I was country before country was cool. 
     I'm not saying I'm old, I'm just saying that when God said:  "Let There Be Light!" he first had to tell me to get out of the way.
     When I wake up, before I start my day, I like to kick back with a hot cup of joe, leisurely read my morning newspaper, and ignore my wife.  But now I read that Apple's iPad is the must-have toy du jour (at least until the next one comes out).  Even students at Southwest Career College are replacing their textbooks with that newfangled contraption.  As for me, I don't think so.  I'm entirely satisfied with my newspaper, thank you very much.
     Oh, I understand, these days you have to either learn how to use a computer or you learn how to sweep around them, but, I submit to you, my loyal readers, that in every way a newspaper is better than an iPad.
     Don't believe me?  No matter, I'll prove it to you.  Here are:
 
 

My Top Ten Reasons Why A Newspaper Is Better Than An iPad

 

 

     10)  If you drop it, you won't have to spend between $500 to $1,000 to replace it.  I'm not saying they're overpriced, I'm just saying P.T. Barnum would have seen you coming.
 

     9)  You can share it.  Although, to tell the truth, my dad wasn't too keen on sharing his morning paper.  Even the sections he didn't read.
     "Dad," I'd ask him, "can I have the comics."
     "No," he'd answer.
     "But I like to read them."
     "You'll get over it."
 

     8)  When you're moving, just try wrapping up all of your breakables in an iPad.
 

     7)  What are you going to do with all that left-over Silly Putty?
 

     6)  If you forget to charge it...  oh, wait, a newspaper doesn't need to be charged.  Suckers!
 

     5)  If you try to housebreak your dog on an iPad he'll be electrocuted!
 

     4)  Hackers can't hack into your newspaper and steal your identity.
 

     3)  Adolph Hitler was working on an iPad prototype in his bunker toward the end of World War II when it caught fire, exploded, and the rest is history.
 

     2)  In a pinch, you can always use it for toilet pa...  technical difficulties...  please stand by...
 

     And the number one reason why a newspaper is better than an iPad is:
 

     1)  BECAUSE I SAID SO!  Well, that always worked for my mom and dad.
 
 

American Chimpanzee

jimduchene.blogspot.com

RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com
@JimDuchene

  

Perception Is Reality

I once told Abraham Lincoln:  "Y'know, Abe, you can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time."
     "Y'know, Jim," he answered back, "I like those odds."
     So when various sources call El Paso the fattest this or the ugliest that, I feel that one way to combat this negative press is by promoting El Paso with something positive.  Being the nation's safest city is a start, but I think we need to go further than that, and by further I mean stretching the truth a bit.
     It's like I told Adolph Hitler:  "Y'know, Adolph, if you tell the same lie often enough it becomes the truth."
    

El Paso!  The Only City To Win The Nobel Peace Prize!  This isn't exactly a lie.  Even President Obama admitted in his first acceptance speech that his Peace Prize was actually won by the American people*, and El Paso is American.  Except for those of us who aren't.

 

El Paso!  Where You'll Never Have To Work Another Day Again In Your Life!  And if the Democrats have their way that will fast become the truth nationwide, so we should be the first to capitalize on it.

 

El Paso!  Where You'll Become Healthy, Wealthy, And Wise!  Assuming, of course, that you're early to bed and early to rise.

 

El Paso!  See Where The Declaration Of Independence Was Signed!  Really, you should go see where it was signed.

 

El Paso!  Where The Streets Are Paved With Gold!  Okay, so this one is an out and out lie, but I'll say what I have to say to get people here, and by the time they discover it's not true, it's too late.  Suckers.

 

Sex Is Better In El Paso!  I just threw that in there because it's true.

 

     We can even do this with the Sun Bowl, 'cause, Lord knows, the Sun Bowl doesn't seem to get a whole lot of respect around the country, especially around Sun Bowl time.
 

The Sun Bowl!  The Super Bowl Of College Football!

 

The Sun Bowl!  The Greatest College Football Game In The World!

 

The Sun Bowl!  Where The Two Best College Teams In The Universe Battle For Supremecy!

 

The Sun Bowl!  Losers Will Be Shot!

 

The Sun Bowl!  Who Can Ever Forget In 1929 When...  Well, I Forget Who Played Or What Happened, But I'm Sure It Was Great!

 

Sex Is Better At The Sun Bowl!

 

     Will the public buy it?  Who cares?  It's like I once told my dear friend, P.T. Barnum:  "Y'know, P.T., there's a sucker born every minute."
     "Y'know, Jim," he answered back, "I like those odds."
    

*And if he didn't, then he should have.

 

 

Fifty Shades of Funny

jimduchene.BlogSpot.com

RaisingMyFather.BlogSpot.com

@JimDuchene

 

What's In A Name?

I can't say I understand Muslim extremists who threaten death to all who disrespect their holy prophet Mohammed, but I do understand their objection to that disrespect.  That's why I can't comprehend why so many Muslims are named Mohammed.  Wouldn't naming an unworthy human Mohammed be the most supreme of insults to their most revered prophet? 
     To be honest, I don't care for anybody naming their child after any particular deity.  I find that incredibly offensive.  Not to mention a burden.  When you name your child Jesus, for example, you've doomed him to failure.  No matter his accomplishments, he'll always be a far second to his namesake.
     Myself, I've given each of my children the first name of "Doctor".  That way they can set up a medical practice without the costly inconvenience of actually going to medical school.  They all specialize in "referrals".  For example, when a patient comes in with a medical problem they will just refer them to an actual physician who specializes in that particular condition.
     A patient may come in and tell my son:  "Doctor, my throat hurts."  My son will then shine a light down their gullet and take a look.  Then he'll poke and prod them a bit, order an RN to take a culture, and maybe take some blood or urine or both for good measure.  Anything to pile on the charges.  In the meantime, he'll tell the patient:  "I want you to go see Dr. Bombay.  He's the best in the business."
     If Dr. Bombay cures my son's patient, it's my child who gets all the glory.  Besides the satisfaction of helping another human being, my child also benefits by being paid twice.  Once by the patient in the initial visit, and again in the form of a kickback from the real doctor.  However, if Dr. Bombay doesn't cure the patient, the patient will blame Dr. Bombay, and come back to my son for another referral and another office charge.
     Ka-ching! 
     Of course, if a patient comes in with an emergency, then my son will immediately send them to the hospital ER just down the street.  Once again, if the hospital saves their life, my child is a hero.  If not, then my child simply voids the bill for their office visit.  This makes him seem caring and compassionate, thus avoiding any potential lawsuits.  It also makes for a nice, fat deduction on his income tax.
     But I digress from my main point, which was:  I find it surprising that Al-Qaeda and radical Islam don't have a fatwa placed upon Muslims named Mohammad, or upon the parents who had the audacity to so name their children.
     How can they tolerate such an insult to their holy prophet?
 
 

Fifty Shades of Funny

jimduchene.BlogSpot.com

RaisingMyFather.BlogSpot.com

@JimDuchene

 

Mayor Cook's Home Homosexuality Test

Now that John Cook--mayor of El Paso and former Captain of the Starship Enterprise--has subverted the will of the people by restoring health benefits to gay city employees, the question now becomes:  How do you determine who is or is not, in fact, a homosexual?
     To address this, Mayor Cook, along with city Reps. Susie Byrd and Steve Ortega, instucted Larry Tate from the McMann & Tate Advertising Agency (the ad agency responsible for doing such a bang-up job promoting El Paso), to come up with a test to determine if a person is undeniably gay, and thus eligible for "domestic partner benefits."
     This is what they came up with:
 

MAYOR COOK'S HOME HOMOSEXUALITY TEST

 

1.  How would you tell your Uncle Moe that a particular girl is a prostitute?
     a)  She's a pro, Moe.
     b)  She's a hooker, Moe.
     c)  She's a ho, Moe.
 

2.  When your Uncle Moe wonders who your favorite singer is, you tell him...
     a)  Dean Martin, Moe.
     b)  Tom Jones, Moe.
     c)  Don Ho, Moe.
 

3.  Your Uncle Moe has forgotten how Santa Laughs.  Can you help him?
     a)  Ha, ha, ha, Moe.
     b)  Hee, hee, hee, Moe.
     c)  Ho, ho, ho, Moe.
 

4.  When Uncle Moe asks which is your favorite gardening tool, you answer...
     a)  The shovel, Moe.
     b)  The rake, Moe.
     c)  The hoe, Moe.
 

5.  After playing all day with your Uncle Moe, you say...
     a)  I'm leaving for my house, Moe.
     b)  I'm departing for my abode, Moe.
     c)  I'm going home, Moe.
 

BONUS QUESTION 

 

6.  What do you call a hot dog?
     a) a frankfurter
     b)  a wiener
     c)  my friend
 

SCORE

 

1.  If you LOOKED at this test you have homosexual tendencies.
2.  If you READ THROUGH this test you have acted on those tendencies.
3.  And if you actually TOOK this test, then you qualify for El Paso's "domestic partner benefits."
 
 

Fifty Shades of Humor

jimduchene.blogspot.com

RaisingMyFather.blogspot.com

@JimDuchene