THE CONTINUING STUPIDIFICATION OF AMERICA
If someone posts a ‘Don’t Do This’ warning, you can be sure that it’s because some idiot done it.
We recently purchased a new, matched pair of PetPro washer and dryer. Each has a special filter to remove (pet) hair from laundry. In large, bold letters, the operator’s manual for both clearly state
WARNING: DO NOT PUT PET IN MACHINE
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Americans put the month first in dates. Europeans are confused to see 11/31/24.
I’d be confused too! Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November.
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English cities whose names end in –WICK, come from “vicus,” which was the town that grew up around Roman forts – like Chadwick, or Warwick, which lazy British tongues have slurred to ‘Warrick.’ I had thought that cities whose name ends in –WICH were just examples of further linguistic evolution.
Recently the son read an article that showed that the term is Anglo-Saxon, and refers to places where salt is produced. Sandwich was down at the seashore, and Woolwich – which lazy British tongues have slurred to ‘Woolich’, was probably near a salt-marsh, where sheep grazed.
Salt was rare, treasured, labor-intensive to produce, and expensive. The word ‘salary’ is because Roman soldiers were paid, at least in part, with salt. It gave rise to expressions like, Salt of the Earth, and Worth his salt.
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What are you curious about?
George – and Yellow.
What positive emotion do you feel most often?
I am positive that I’m sick and tired of these stupid prompts.
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My cat has eaten a part of my body.
One of my cats can occasionally be very insecure and demanding, wanting to be cuddled on my ample lap shelf, and firmly stroked, his spine thumped, nuzzled and purred to while he is purring at me. Since we’re nose to nose, he does to me what a kitten would do to its mother; he licks around my mouth, down my unshaven chin, up my cheeks, across one or both eyebrows, and sometimes into my ear. With a 60-grit rough tongue, he does a great job of exfoliating my face. All those dead skin cells gotta go someplace.
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I recently downloaded the blog-prompt title, Scour the news for an entirely uninteresting story. Consider how it connects to your life. Write about that. I may eventually do that. Below it, I added a note – Magnet poles, meth-head panhandlers dozing off. Ladies and gentlemen, this is why I don’t do drugs. I have no F**kin’ idea what that means!!? 😮
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I just found a new record for the shortest chapter in a book – five words.
Joey and Tommy kept laughing.
It even had a chapter title LAUGHING – large print.
The action hero – the guy who takes on assassins, and squads of police – had to admit to his friends, how a 92-year-old woman knocked him down a flight of stairs with a walking stick that folded out to a seat, because she thought he was robbing apartments. Semper paratus.
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How do Amish girls know if it’s a romantic, candlelit dinner – or just a regular dinner?
Archon's Den 