I’ve been suffering from a severe case of lassitude lately. I
totally have not felt like writing anything - no blog posts, no new book
chapters, no witty Face book repartee - NADA! I going to Montana for a
week’s vacation to rest and refresh. While I’m gone, I’m scheduling
reruns, reposts, retreads - whatever you want to call them, but I ain’t writin’
nuttin’ new! I hope the blog posts I’ve chosen to regurgitate for you
represent some of the best I’ve written over the last two years. If you don’t
think so, poop on you.
As a result of my scale being off kilter, next time I get weighed at the doctor’s office his scale will tell me I’m over weight too. Then the doc tor will suggest ever so politely that I could stand to lose a few pounds. AArrgghh! And the trouble with being weighed at the doctor’s office is the danged nurses never let me take anything off so their scale will show my true weight. I mean, I usually weigh naked at home. TOTALLY naked. I’d shave my chest hair if I could come in a pound or two lighter.
As Rodney Dangerfield might say, “My scale don’t give me no respect.”
Vehicle speedometers are something else that can cause you trouble too. Say you get pulled over by a state bull (I like to call them bulls) and he says you were traveling 10 miles per hour over the speed limit. You tell him you’re sure your speedometer is accurate and according to it you weren’t speeding.
“Ever had your speedometer calibrated?” the bull asks.
You want to retort, “Have you had your radar gun calibrated recently?” but you suspect he might just write something nasty on your ticket - assault on a police officer or something like that. So, you keep your mouth shut. But a lot of things can throw your speedometer out of whack. Different size tires than those that originally came on your vehicle is one thing. And you can’t always trust your cruise control either. Somehow, when you set it for 60 it just seems to creep up to 70 all by itself.
Clocks are another thing that can get you into trouble. At our house we set a couple of our clocks a little bit faster so Kathleen can be sure and get out of bed in the morning in time to gussy up, eat breakfast, do some stretching exercises and make it to work on time. When I mentioned to her recently that my watch said it was time for her to get going she pointed out to me that my watch was about five minutes fast (according to her watch), but I swear I didn’t set my watch by the clocks. I set it by the computer. I wouldn’t have won that argument so I gave it up.
Last but not least, what’s up with the darned house thermostat? It may say it’s 70 degrees in the house but I swear it’s only about 65. And have you ever tried to program one of those new “programmable ones?” I just feel lucky that the heater comes on at all and we don’t have to build an igloo in the living room.
Well, ‘nuff said about things that don’t work the way they’re supposed to. Two bags of poop on ‘em. Right Sam?
Woof!
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