New Years Eve Dec 31 2013

According to a recent study at the University of North Carolina, one out of every 200 American women claim to have become pregnant as virgins.  Researchers at the University of North Carolina were using a test called the National Longitudinal Study of Adolescent Health.  Researchers at universities throughout the country are always administering tests of some sort and getting paid for it.  I would say this test was at least interesting and raises numerous questions.(If I remember right, the last time a woman reported having a virgin birth was over in the Middle East in a town called Bethlehem.)

The first question raised is did the women understand the connection between sexual intercourse and pregnancy.  Apparently some of the women were not even sure what constituted vaginal intercourse. ( In my estimation this would indicate a serious problem.)  Of course it’s possible many of these women came of age during the Bill Clinton Era when Bill managed to create mass-confusion over what constituted “having sex.”

The second question concerns dates.  Maybe the women simply got their dates mixed up.  It’s possible.  Judy is always complaining about how I always forget important dates.  Maybe some of these women are very poor at keeping track of dates and thought they started having sex after giving birth.  Nothing surprises me about human behavior anymore.

The third issue regards a solemn pledge.  Some of the women claiming a “virgin pregnancy” had also signed a chastity pledge.  Granted, when you sign a pledge you should take it seriously. But it’s possible some of these women signed the pledge, and then, when their guard was down, gave in to their boyfriend’s animal-cravings.  Naturally you don’t want to admit you broke the sacred pledge, so you tell a little white lie and claim you had a virgin birth.

Of course there is always the possibility that one of these women had a genuine “virgin birth” just like happened in Bethlehem.  I strongly doubt it though.   I’m even skeptical of the “virgin birth” in Bethlehem which indicates how much of a skeptic I am.  A  coworker with the telephone company once told me I was an irreverent, skeptical heathen.  Didn’t sound good at the time.

Besides virgin births, I also ran across another enlightening subject concerning women. 

A few days ago (still 2013) I tuned into the Dr.Oz tv show and learned that the average woman will pass wind 98 times in a week.  Like virgin births this is valuable to know.  For instance, if I’m in the grocery store, checking the price of fresh salmon I will know not to stand downwind of the lady looking at the fresh clams next to the salmon.

Dr. Oz did not explain how many women were tested, what they ate, or what instruments were used.  Naturally my first thought was that some type of “fart-meter” was attached to various women who volunteered.  (What kind of woman would volunteer to have her farts measured is a scary thought.)

Judy says I watch too much of Dr. Oz.  She also claims that women don’t fart, but, rather, pass “delicate woman winds.”  She claims that men, myself included, pass “big hairy man farts.”  That is an example of gender bias of the most severe type.

Here’s wishing everyone a very happy holidays and a joyous New Years.

Irreverent and always skeptical

Judy is having trouble picking the cherry-tomatoes in our back yard.  We have six plants planted in two wooden containers in the back yard which, because of the abundant sunshine and occasional rain shower, just keep producing more and more tomatoes.  But it is now mid-September and there are small creatures that have matured and are now occupying the plants in abundance.  Judy has given names such as Harriet, Mildred, Lulu and Clara to the numerous little critters.  There are very few male occupants on the plants because the females tend to devour them after mating with them. 
In the world of spiders the male really does get used and abused.
All the spiders in our backyard, and there are many, are mottled brown in color, build orb webs and are called Araneus diadematus. That’s the scientific name; most people call them Garden Spiders.  Of course the scientific name is only important if you’re really into spiders, which in my experience includes very few people.  Fortunately I have managed to influence Judy to at least try to avoid damaging their webs as she picks the tomatoes.  I point out to her that there is a spider, Nephila, which resides in the tropics and builds a giant orb web that is about 40 inches in diameter and strong enough to be used by humans to catch fish in.  This spider catches small birds and mammals in its web and then eats them.  We would never get the cherry-tomatoes picked if one of those suckers was in our little garden.
Judy’s daughter, Deanna, used to catch spiders when she was attending college down in Seattle.  She was living in a basement apartment and kept discovering spiders running across the floor.  She was not the least bit interested in spiders and would cover them with empty jars, jar lids, ashtrays or anything  else that was available. 
In Illinois there is a large black and yellow spider that would build a large orb web between  the rows of corn in the Fall.  Photographers love this spider because of the beautiful designs the dew laden webs create on a Fall morning as you look down a row of corn.  The body of this spider is about 1.5 inches long and the eight legs will stretch out to cover your entire hand.  I know this for a fact because one of these spiders bit me on the back of my hand. 
It was a Fall morning and I was walking through a corn field  when I felt this dull pain starting in my hand and going all the way up to my shoulder.  When I looked down at my hand I felt both surprise and shock at seeing the spider with its small fangs sunk into my skin.  I brushed the spider off and saw that a lump, similar to a bee sting, had appeared on the back of my hand.  I realized I had swung my hand through the spider’ s web which probably really pissed her off after all the work it took to build the web. 
I’ve had one other spider crawling on my hand. The year was 1958 and it was at Camp Pendleton, California and it was a tarantula.  I was in the last 4 weeks of Marine Boot Camp at what was called Basic Infantry Training.   It was evening and some of the recruits had found a large tarantula and were poking at it with sticks.  I knelt down and placed my hand in front of the spider and he(or she) climbed aboard and started moving up my arm.  Some of the Marines asked me if I was crazy but I was pretty sure the spider wouldn’t bite me as long as I didn’t apply any type of pressure to it.  I walked out away from the billets and released it and watched as the tarantula moved off into the brush. 
During the 4 weeks of infantry training you no longer have a Drill Instructor but have what is called a Troop Leader.  The next morning the Troop Leader, a sergeant, informed me that I was now the official spider, scorpion and snake remover for the platoon.  He also made it clear that if he ever found an F-ing spider, scorpion or snake in his quarters he would know who to F-ing blame for it and I would be one sorry son of a bitch.
Not everyone appreciates spiders. 

Chick Magnet

Judy has gone to work at the Literacy Council, and I am taking Corki for a walk over at Lake Padden.   It's about 10 a.m., temperature in the mid-70s, and Corki is happy as a dog could be. Algae is beginning to take over this shallow end of the lake and I can see a number of waterfowl swimming in among the growth of plants that are becoming visible on the surface. On the shore a woman is tossing  a large stick out into the water for her dog to retrieve and I notice the Mallard ducks and Canadian Geese seem to ignore the dog.  Among the Mallards is a hen with ducklings that are about a quarter grown; I count five ducklings bobbing in the water as they trail along behind her.

 

A couple of teenagers are sunbathing close to the path I'm on and Corki wants to sniff their feet but I pull her up towards the path. Farther along the bank I see an older guy(my age) sitting on a canvas stool with a fishing pole set in an upright position. I wonder if he has his line out beyond the algae growth. 

 

It's a nice pleasant day on Lake Padden and everyone is happy and comfortable and then I see the eagle.  The eagle is cruising in at about tree-top level right above the ducks, geese, sunbathers, fisherman and Corki and I. Then the eagle's wings come in against his body and he drops like a bullet and then the wings are extended and one leg goes out and grabs one of the ducklings and he begins beating his wings as he heads across the lake. 

 

Now there are only four little ducks on the lake.

 

The teen age boy  raises up off the blanket and says, "Holy shit! Did you see that?"  His girlfriend didn't see the activity, doesn't seem all that interested and continues to lay on the blanket.  Down by the shoreline the woman with the dog is standing with the stick in her hand and seems a little awe-struck by what just transpired in front of her.  I am surprised that the eagle would grab prey with so many people nearby. But it was very quick and probably took less than 30 seconds.

 

Judy and I have noticed that the ducks on Lake Padden will start out with a brood of about 7 or 9 ducklings but then when we see them later, close to maturity, there will only be 2 or 3 ducks left. Life is rough for a ducky.

 

Corki and I continue on around the lake.  I'm wondering if it's going to be a one-pooper, a two-pooper or maybe even a three-pooper walk.  I judge her walks by how many poops she takes; it's not a successful walk unless she poops.  Of course that's why it is critical to have at least three poop-bags.  When Judy is along she will quite often cheat by scooting the poop off into the brush.

 

As I walk along I notice that when I meet women they will look at Corki, smile and then nod at me.  This is quite different than when I walk alone in the park. Quite often I have noticed that many women will move over on the opposite side of the path and clutch their cell phones as if they are about to dial 911.  I have tried smiling and saying hello but this only results in them turning around and running in the opposite direction.

 

On this walk I meet three women and all of them smile and start asking about Corki.  They always comment on how cute she is and want to know her breed.  As I explain to  them that she is 7 years old and is part Corgi, none of the women dial 911.

 

It is obvious that the dog is a "chick-magnet."

 

Also, I have been wondering how to supplement my retirement income and perhaps Corki is the answer.  I could rent her out as a guaranteed "chick-magnet."  Of course I would have to figure how much to charge per hour and what would be the normal time frame for her to be rented out.  If the enterprise was successful, maybe I could start a franchise and go nationwide.

 

I'll see what Judy thinks.

Rush Limbaugh The Mole

Questions have begun to emerge concerning Rush Limbaugh and which political party he is really working for.  Could he be what in the secretive world of espionage is termed a "deep mole."

In many ways Rush Limbaush fits the profile of the perfect "mole."  He has become one of the leading spokesmen for what some term the radical wing of the Republican Party.  He comes from a well respected wealthy Republican family  His uncle, Stephan Limbaugh, was appointed federal judge by Ronald Reagan, and his cousin Stephan Limbaugh Jr., was appointed to the U.S. District Court by George W. Bush.  His father was a prominent attorney in Missouri and Rush's brother, David, is a lawyer and conservative writer. 

Rush would be the perfect candidate to work as a "mole" for the Democratic Party.

At first glance this idea may seem farfetched.  But when recent events are closely scrutinized with an objective eye, some serious questions emerge.

Sarah Fluke, the George Town grad-student was not well known and would have remained so until Rush Limbaugh launched a verbal attack against her that drew national attention.  He accused her of being a slut, a prostitute and that she and her friends were having so much sex that they were costantly running out of birth control pills.

Naturally there was a reaction by a large portion of the public that felt Rush had gone too far.  Advertisers began pulling their ads from his show and he finally issued a weak apology.  But perhaps most telling was that all the Republicans struggling in the various  primarys were now being asked if Rush Limbaugh had crossed the line of decency.

In short they had been knocked off message.  Most of them wished, secretly of course, that Rush had kept his mouth shut.  The poor Republicans now had to convince voters that they were not waging a war against women.  It was as if good old Rush purposely threw a monkey wrench into the gears of the Republican Presidential Campaign.
Obviously this is the mark of a serious undercover-operative.  Perhaps a "Supermole."

Of course some will say this is not enough to prove that Rush is a "mole."  Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your politics, one more suspicious political action can be attributed to Rush Limbaugh.

It was during the Democratic Primarys back in 2008 that Rush Limbaugh launched what he called "Operation Chaos."  The purpose of this was to prevent Hillary Clinton from winning the Democratic nomination.  He exhorted his ditto-head followers to go the Democratic voting centers and to vote for the other candidates.  This would create all kinds of chaos and confusion and help assure a Republican victory in the Fall.

I remember listening to one of his radio shows and hearing him suggest that his followers vote for one particular candidate.  Rush said the guy was from Chicago which implied something was crooked.  He also mentioned that the guy was black and then said that shouldn't be a problem.  But then he really focused on the guys name.  Rush said with a name like this no one in their right mind would vote for him to be President of the United States.  He then slowly pronounced Barack Hussein Obama.  And sure enough this black guy from Chicago named Obama gets the nomination.

If that isn't the work of a "Super Mole" I don't know what is.

Squirrels, Republicans and Smoking

Judy says I am feeding the squirrels too much.  (They are Western Gray Squirrels)  She says I am creating giant mutant-squirrels that will attack both our cats and our dog.  At first I didn’t believe her and then one got stuck trying to crawl under our wire fence in the back yard.

            I was just coming out of the garage and saw the squirrel, a very fat dude, clawing away trying to get under the wire.  At that moment Judy let Corki out on to the back porch and the squirrel really started digging.

            Corki flew off the porch, grabbed the bushy gray tail and started pulling.  A frantic chattering erupted and then Corki had pulled the squirrel free.  The squirrel then spun around and tried to grab Corki’s nose.  Corki loves to chase and herd things but doesn’t have a real killer instinct.  She seemed puzzled by the squirrel’s actions and let go of the tail.

            This time the squirrel climbed the wire fence and was gone into the woods.

            A few days later there is a large, very fat gray squirrel sitting in the birdfeeder.  His bushy tail is curled up along his back and it is a very beautiful tail except for a portion that is missing any hair.  He is almost as big as our smaller cat, Vinnie.  Three other squirrels appear and it makes me  think about Alfred Hitchcock’s movie “The Birds.”   Or maybe a Stephen King novel.  I can almost hear them chanting, “Send the dog out.”

            Christmas is few days away and as I sit here writing this letter I keep thinking about smoking a cigarette.  It’s a stressful time.  You have to think about presents and cards for relatives and friends.  Then you have to pretend you’re happy and full of cheer.  Then to top it all off, Judy starts having back problems again.  A Neurosurgeon did her back surgery in April. At the advice of our primary-care Doctor she has an appointment to see the “butcher” in January to re evaluate her latest MRI.

            To keep me from returning to smoking, Judy suggested that I start taking the drug Chantix again.  About five months ago I took it and it was very effective in eliminating my desire to smoke.  The drug stimulates the receptors in the brain that are normally stimulated by nicotine in a smoker.

            Of course there’s all kinds of side effects.  Like suicidal thoughts, depression, nausea and strange, vivid dreams.  The only side effect I experienced was the dreams.

            In one dream I was back in my telephone-van which I had somehow managed to drive inside of a Hooters Restaurant.  As I drove the van, I kept bumping into tables which was upsetting the customers.  (I’m sure a psychiatrist would have a ball studying this dream.)  Oddly, the waitresses didn’t seem upset and kept coming up to the van and asking if I wanted to order.  All I could remember was lots of cleavage and customers cussing at me.  Then it just ended.

            I took the Chantix for about three weeks and really started looking forward to the dreams.  It was like a new adventure every night. While I am taking Chantix this Christmas, Judy may or may not be taking Percocet.  The Percocet is for the back-pain and makes her very talkative and very happy which is good for the holiday spirit.  Myself, I am looking forward to my dreams. (note from Judy: I am NOT going to give in and take the Percocet!!).

            Maybe I will dream that I am a Billionaire whose taxes will not go up.  And being a good billionaire, I will invest money in building up the country with manufacturing plants and infrastructure projects.  I would create jobs for millions.  And all those Chinese would truly love me for providing them with even more jobs.  Being a smart billionaire I would know where the low wages are and where I could make a good return on my investment and I'd thank those Republicans on the Hill who made it possible.

            On the other hand, maybe I’ll dream that Judy and I are homeless and standing on a street corner in Bellingham.  We'll have a cardboard sign saying, “God Bless.”  Corki will be sitting next to us with  the remnants of a squirrel tail dangling from her mouth.

Medi-Pet-Care

Santa: "Look, I'm sorry, Elves and Reindeer aren't included in Obama's health plan. Besides, some of you elves are illegial aliens and could be deported back to Elfland at any time".

   It is very cold outside at 5:30AM. The air is crisp and I can see the stars in the clear sky. Down in the twenties is what the weatherman had said. Judy and I are outside trying to get our dog, Corki, to pee on a large plastic garbage bag which is spread out on the ground. Corki will sit on command, lay down on command but she will not pee on command. We need to get a urine sample for our veterinarian and it is always a task.

     We have found that this technique works best when she first awakens. (I suspect it would work with humans also.) She keeps walking in a circle trying to get off the plastic but we keep the leash tight and finally she can hold it no longer and squats and we are jubilant. Judy then sucks up the liquid with a plastic syringe and we have our sample.

     The vet-bill comes to $300. It’s a lot of money for a doctor visit at Christmas time. The immune-deficiency test is $96.00 and the anti-biotic pills, all 96 of them, cost $110. Then there’s the x-ray which comes to $47. Fortunately the x-ray doesn’t show any abnormality of the kidneys, which is good. The problem is a high protein count in her urine.

     The vet says she has to go on a low protein diet. No more table scraps or treats. We buy $50 worth of the prescription dog food. Judy and I decide we won’t be buying each other Christmas presents this year.

      There are four veterinarians at the Fountain Vet Clinic. They all agree that Corki has a potentially serious problem but they also admit they are unsure of the cause of the problem. They say an ultra-sound would help get a clearer picture of her kidneys, bladder and stomach. It only costs $700. (No trips this summer) Of course after the ultra-sound they will probably tell us she needs surgery. (We can always sell the house and move into our RV)

     Judy’s daughter, Deanna, recommended we get a second opinion from her vet. He is a holistic vet and tells us the conventional treatments are poisoning our dog. He convinces us to try his approach and loads us up with a bag full of supplements and tells us to feed her only ground up raw veggies and real meat. We walk out of there $460 poorer. (so much for living in the RV, we’ll sell it to buy a tent)

     It is obvious that many Americans, like Judy and I, need relief from spiraling health-care costs for pets. Many Americans are just one pet-health-emergency away from going bankrupt and losing their home. I think the time is right for a senator or representative to introduce a bill to create universal health care for pets. Better yet, the legislation could simply be attached to one of the existing human health-care bills currently being debated. It could be one paragraph hidden within the thousands of pages and may never even be noticed.

     Of course, if it is discovered by the Republicans, they will scream that it is one more dangerous step towards Socialism. Rush Limbaugh will begin screaming that we will create a bunch of barking and meowing socialists.

     Republicans and some Democrats will argue that the government will now come between a pet owner and their veterinarian. An arbitrary age may be decided by a government bureaucrat for when a dog or cat must die. Television commercials showing old dogs and old cats will appear with accusations of “killing Granny.” It will probably get very ugly.

     Ironically, many veterinarians may start lobbying for universal-health-care for pets. They will see the potential financial bonanza in having all pets covered. It could be called Medi-Pet-Care. They would probably lobby for all pets to be included such as hamsters, parakeets, rabbits, turtles and even snakes. The more pets covered the more money to be made.

     Of course the most serious obstacle would be the cost. Some will argue it will be one more step to financial ruin for the country. Others will argue that cost is no problem at all. We can just borrow some more money from China. On his next trip to China to visit our “banker,” President Obama will bow properly and explain how we need a few more bucks for one more government program. The “banker” will begin grilling Obama, asking those tough, hardnosed questions that all loan-officers ask. Obama will explain the new program and the loan-officer will get a bewildered look on his face. Finally, the Chinese loan-officer will lean across the table and say, “Why don’t you solve a big problem by doing what we do.” Puzzled, Obama will ask what they do in China. The Chinese loan-officer will smile broadly and say, “We eat our pets.”

     I’m exaggerating of course. There are some Chinese who love their pets as much as Americans do, but the Chinese Government does not encourage pet ownership. The trick is to never get a pet, especially a lovable dog, who then, somehow, becomes a member of the family. It’s downright spooky the way they do it.

     I do like the sound of Medi-Pet-Care. A politician could really run with this and all the “talking-heads” on radio and TV would view it as something to increase their ratings.

Government Bail Out

This Christmas I feel Judy and I deserve some sort of government bail-out. As it stands now we, like many other couples, have been forced to cut back on our spending habits which then jeopardizes the United States economy. I am as patriotic as the next guy and I do not want to be held responsible for the collapse of the U.S.A. and Western Civilization. If I could just get a small check, say for $200,000 or even a lousy $100,000, I promise Judy and I would do our patriotic duty to get the country back on track.
Naturally there will be those nattering nabobs of negativism who will say there isn’t enough money to do this for everyone. They will make claims that it will put the country deeper in debt and bankrupt us. They of course simply don’t understand modern economics.
Modern economic theory dictates that some enterprises are simply too large to fail. It apparently is a law of nature. Recent bail-outs of numerous companies have amounted to close to a trillion dollars. I used to think one billion dollars was a lot of money but now realize that is chump change. All this money keeps appearing as if out of nowhere.
Some people claim it is actually tax money from citizens of the U. S. But more and more citizens are losing their jobs and not paying taxes so I am suspicious.
The only logical answer is the “money fairy.”
In college I took Economics 101 which was extremely boring and never once covered the “money fairy.” Economic theory evolves and this was back in the 60s so maybe the advanced idea of a “money fairy” had not arrived yet. When I was a child my parents would give me a weekly allowance and I think the “money fairy theory” works in a similar manner.
The next question to arise is, where does the “money fairy” live? Many people think he (or maybe she) lives somewhere in the White House. This is because the checks are always signed by someone in the US government. This is false of course.
The “money fairy” is very sneaky. The “money fairy” lives in a far a way country that claims to be Communist, but in reality is now more of a ruthless Capitalist than we are. (“Money fairies” are noted for moving from one country to another.)
The country is China and as long as we don’t antagonize the “money fairy” everything will be fine.
Both Judy and I admit we occasionally spent our money unwisely at times. But, like those big corporations who also have made poor decisions, we shouldn’t be penalized for our stupidity. After all this is America. In fact I think Judy and I should get some type of bonus for our poor financial decisions. They do that on Wall Street.
Judy and I would be happy with a meager $10,000 bonus each for our poor financial decisions.

Wishing you, one and all, a very Merry Christmas and Happy and Prosperous New Year!