Recent conversation with Brenda:

me: I've decided that I'm not going to play that "got your nose" game with our grandkids.

Brenda: Oh, really?

me: Yeah, I'm going to play "got your appendix" instead.

Brenda: There's some logic I'm missing here.

me: With my version, our grandkids can't disprove what I say with a look in the mirror and if I actually get their appendix, there's probably a plus side to that.

Brenda: And to think that most physicians spend years in medical school to accomplish something like that.

me: I'm so ahead of my time.


One Reply to And No Need for Anaesthesia

Scott Hardie | June 14, 2015
You could play "got your tonsils" and then take them out for ice cream.


Web Junkie

Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Is This A Country Song Or What?

Playing a country song backwards, as the old joke goes, and your wife comes back, your dog is alive again, and your trucks rolls over onto its wheels. The Mickster has got it bad in Oscar week as his beloved chihuahua died in his arms. Not to make fun of what must have been a horrible event, but did he really need to display his mourning by attending a New York fashion show the very next day? Go »

Little Hoover Dam Break

This week's mini-flood o' links. Ridiculous weatherman names. These are real. Go »

Cool Kleenex Dispensers

My daughter brings crafts home from school. I'm sending her teacher a picture of this Easter Island-ish tissue dispenser for their next craft project. Hey, they can learn about Easter Island and the Moai statues. Go »

Yes, It's Hot Enough For Me

Recent conversation with Brenda: Brenda: The weather's been getting a lot warmer lately. me: I believe I noticed. Brenda: I'm worried that our air conditioner is too old and won't be good enough this summer. Go »

Flotsam & Jetsam

I always wanted to use that phrase. Crazy ticketers in England. Which anniversary is it appropriate to celebrate at this restaurant? Go »

Christmas Post #16: A Hillbilly Christmas

My father was born and raised in North Carolina. Throughout my childhood we would make the summer trek to my Granny and Grandpaw's house in the middle of the state. Many a summer night passed listening to roosters (they crow all friggin' night), the occasional gator grunt, and my hillbilly cousins fart and scratch while playing cards. Go »