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Showing posts from January, 2018

Guess The Loser

Didn't care for Whose Dick Is It?      Well, you're right. That game show was crap. That's why I came up with this new one that will take America by storm.      Television networks can line up to the left with their bags of cash.      Heck, I've even supplied the theme song at no extra cost.   (theme song sung to Beck's Loser )   Somos generosos. Guess the loser, baby, And you'll be a winner.   This member of the 43rd president's administration shot his friend in the face while hunting.   "Dick Cheney?"   That is correct. Vice-President Dick Cheney.   One of this Hollywood predator's sexually abused victims was a poor potted plant.   "Harvey Weinstein?"   That is correct. Former Miramax and Weinstein Company executive Harvey Weinstein.    This drummer was kicked out of the most famous band in the world just before the...

Whose Dick Is It?

Welcome to America's hottest new game show!    He was the president who had to resigned in disgrace over the Watergate scandal cover-up.   "That's Pat Nixon's Dick."   Correct. Richard Nixon.    In a TV sitcom, this actor played the character of Darrin Stephens, who was married to a witch played by Elizabeth Montgomery.   "That's Bewitched's Dick."   Correct. Dick York or Dick Sargent, either Dick will do.   This drummer was known for the size of his nose and the number of rings he wore on his fingers.   "That's the Beatles' Dick."   Correct. Richard Starkey, better known as Ringo Starr.   Some say he was the real power behind our 43rd president.   "That's George Bush's Dick."   Correct. Vice-President Dick Cheney.   He played the black private eye "that's a sex machine to all the chicks."   "That's Shaft's Dick." ...

The Shower Curtain Rod

as featured in Desert Exposure Magazine desertexposure.com       "Honey," my wife said, giving me her sweetest smile. "I need you to fix the shower curtain in dad's bathroom."     “Again?” I questioned.      “Again,” she confirmed.     “But I just fixed it,” I griped.     "Well, fix it again,” she countered.     "It can't be broken," I insisted.     "And yet it is," she insisted back.     “ Again? ” I mumbled to myself, because I knew the only one in this room interested in hearing my complaints was me.     I must have fixed that darn thing--what?--eight, nine, ten times? It seems I retired from a job I enjoyed just to spend that retirement fixing my father's shower curtain. It’s not that it’s hard to fix, because it’s not, but that’s not the problem.    ...