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Shitzen Giggles

Do you know what I’ve discovered?   I’m seriously thinking about moving to Denmark.  WW (my husband) and I are thinking about a place to spend our final days and this may be it.  I’ve had the trots all week from the IBS brought on by the anxiety caused by congressmen who don’t want to do the right thing and are having a field day over the erratic start of the Affordable Care Act, rather than wanting to lend a helping hand for their fellow man.  Yet, they, themselves, have no plan.

Healthcare working Christopher Weyant The Hill

Used by permission:  Christopher Weyant, The Hill

Apparently, my IBS would not be a problem in Denmark because not only would my stress be less, but I’d be full of giggles most of the time because according to the Huffingtonpost, healthcare is a civil right and the Danes feel a responsibility towards one another.   Can you believe that?

I plan on dropping this relocation bomb on my husband (WW) when he gets home, but until then I need to forget about my intestines’ call to shit and start giggling.  So in my search for giggles I discovered a giraffe riddle challenge on Facebook and decided to expand on it.

Have you heard about it?  There is a FB page that gives you a riddle.  If you answer it correctly, you’re fine—if you don’t, you have to change your profile picture to one of a giraffe for three days—any giraffe.

FB The Great Giraffe Challenge

THE RIDDLE GOES LIKE THIS:

It’s 3:00 am, the doorbell rings and you wake up. You have unexpected visitors. It’s your parents and they are there for breakfast. You have strawberry jam, honey, wine, bread and cheese. What is the first thing you open?

                ANSWER:  The door or your eyes (from Huffingtonpost/Alexis Kleinman)

Giraffe Miley look alike

 AUTHOR’S PIC FOR A GIRAFFE PROFILE JUST BECAUSE I CAN’T BELIEVE THE RESEMBLANCE

But that just made me chuckle—not giggle!  So I decided to do a string of riddles for my readers that don’t have anything to do with giraffes or Facebook profiles.  If you correctly answer my riddles, you can go on about your business BUT if any one answer is incorrect, then you are encouraged to pick the meme just below the riddle you missed and pass it on to a group of friends that you know could use a giggle.  Please note that the answer to each giggle follows the meme underneath the riddleGood luck, forget about our nasty-ass governmental officials for a while, and happy giggles to all!  (Special thanks to WW and brainden.com for the riddles.)

(RIDDLE #1)

WHAT IS GREATER THAN GOD,

MORE EVIL THAN THE DEVIL,

THE POOR HAVE IT,

THE RICH NEED IT,

AND IF YOU EAT IT YOU’LL DIE?

funniest animal fear no evil

ANSWER TO RIDDLE #1: “NOTHING

***

(RIDDLE #2)

 WHO MAKES IT, HAS NO NEED OF IT.

WHO BUYS IT, HAS NO USE FOR IT.

WHO USES IT CAN NEITHER SEE NOR FEEL IT

WHAT IS IT?

Funny Animal Kung Fu Fighting

ANSWER TO RIDDLE #2:  “A COFFIN

***

(RIDDLE #3)

A MAN IS DRIVING HIS SON TO SCHOOL.  THEY GET INTO AN ACCIDENT AND THE MAN DIES.  THE SON IS RUSHED TO THE HOSPITAL AND WHEN HE ARRIVES FOR EMERGENCY SURGERY THE DOCTOR SAYS, “I CAN’T OPERATE ON THIS BOY, HE’S MY SON!”  HOW CAN THIS BE?

Animal MereCat

ANSWER TO RIDDLE #3:  “THE DOCTOR IS THE BOY’S MOTHER.”

***

(RIDDLE #4)

A GIRL WHO WAS JUST LEARNING TO DRIVE WENT DOWN A ONE-WAY STREET IN THE WRONG DIRECTION, BUT DIDN’T BREAK THE LAW.  

 HOW COME?

animal memes alligator

ANSWER TO RIDDLE #4: “SHE WAS WALKING!”

***

 

(RIDDLE #5)

 WHAT CAN TRAVEL AROUND THE WORLD WHILE STAYING IN A CORNER?

Animal Being Mocked

ANSWER TO RIDDLE #5: “A POSTAGE STAMP”

***

QUOTES ABOUT LAUGHTER

 “I love people who make me laugh. I honestly think it’s the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It’s probably the most important thing in a person.” ― Audrey Hepburn

“If we couldn’t laugh we would all go insane.”― Robert Frost

“The human race has only one really effective weapon and that is laughter.”Mark Twain

“I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I’ll go to it laughing.” Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; or, The Whale

Shitsandgiggles end

REFERENCES

http://crooksandliars.com/jon-perr/how-democrats-saved-bushs-medicare-drug-program

http://www.huffinlgtonpost.com/2013/10/28/facebook-giraffe_n_4171246.htm?utm_hp_ref=mostpopular

http://brainden.com/logic-riddles.htm

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/10/22/denmark-happiest-country_n_4070761.html

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
18 Comments

Posted by on October 31, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Everybody Talkin’ ‘Bout Heaven Ain’t Goin’ There

Do you know what I’ve discovered?   I have had it with the Tea Party, and the reason is not what you might suspect. Oh, sure, I’m pissed with their attitude of “I’ve got mine, it sucks if you don’ have yours” as they try to bring down the government in their attempt to destroy the black man in the Oval Office and deny health care to millions of people who are without. I’m really furious that this shutdown has been orchestrated since the first minute after President Obama’s reelection by a coalition of conservative activists funded by the Koch Brothers and groups like FreedomWorks, Generation Opportunity, Young Americans for Liberty, and the Tea Party.  These heartless bastards and an arrogant jerk by the name of Ted Cruz have been operating from a “defunding toolkit” that has been wreaking havoc since September to cause the Affordable Care Act to miss its Oct. 1st launch.  (How did that work out for you, Teddy Baby?)

Shutdown I John Cole The Scranton Times Tribune

Used by permission:  John Cole, The Scranton Times Tribune

I’ve especially had it with the people in the aforementioned groups who claim to “love Jesus” and show up in church every Sunday to praise God, pat each other on the back as to their holiness, and claim to be doing God’s will for the American people while they bear false witness against our President through their media megaphones (Fox News, RedState, Breitbart.com, The Drudge Report, and Rush Limbaugh, just to name a few haters). But what has really pissed me off is that the Tea Party Repubs’ actions have produced a shutdown of our government causing poor families (9 million women and children at last count) to really take a hit for baby formula, nutritional counseling, healthcare referrals, and Head Start while the Tea Party Congressmen run around showboating by moving gates to Washington monuments for veterans on vacation.  Michelle Bachmann, founder of the Tea Party caucus in the House and head-gate mover (with cameras rolling), was “appalled” that the shutdown had affected our vets, and she planned to come by every day to make sure they remained open. I need to ask the self-professed born-again Christian if she was losing any sleep over babies being deprived of nutrition and learning, but then again she’s probably cool with that because it doesn’t affect her kids. (Remember America, you sent these wackos to Washington—what were you thinking?)  And yet Obamacare still rolled on!

Obamacare keeps on rolling Bill Schorr Cagle Cartoons

Used by permission:  Bill Schorr Cagle Cartoons

What is most unforgiveable is that this government shutdown, which could have been avoided and is probably going to be the destruction of the Republican party, released a bored government employee (who I sleep with) into my work space (writer at work) while I was trying to put the finishing touches on my book.  He behaved himself the first two days, and then on the third day, my husband (WW) turned into a terror. I had already survived the cacophony of “Die Hard III, Star Trek II, and The Avengers” blasting from the man cave through all six speakers and causing my office floor to undulate in thunderous rolls as I (ear plugs entrenched) tried to finish off my edits.  But my desk kept bouncing and my fingers kept misfiring, causing me to type a manuscript page of 3 parts gibberish and 7 parts curses!  All of a sudden it got quiet and stayed that way for a couple of hours.  I assumed WW was asleep, and as I picked up the phone to make a very important call, you-know-who cracked opened my office door that has a sign on it that says “Keep Out! Writer at Work!” and peeked his head in.

WW:     Hey, what you doin’?

MOI:      (Seriously???)  Tryin’ to get ahold of Jesus.

WW:     On the phone?

MOI:      What?  You got a better system of reaching The Almighty?

WW:     No, not really.  Dare I ask why you’re trying to reach Jesus?

MOI:      Originally it was to have him zap your big-screen TV with a lightning bolt into the pit of Hell.  But you have since quieted down, and now I’m calling to tattle on those members of the Republican Congress who boast about being the party of God but who are causing vulnerable people to suffer.  I’m trying to reach God to see if he’ll fricassee their asses and give John Boehner a good smack upside the head to bring this government shutdown to a close.  There are people who live from paycheck to paycheck who are really suffering because of this mess started by Ted Cruz. And not being self-centered, but I need you to go back to work, babe. You’re killing me with your restlessness.

WW:     Well, I got quiet because I left and went to the electronics’ store and bought us a new router so that everything will run three times as fast in my man cave and your office.  And once the cable man shows up, you’ll even be able to see who is calling you while you’re watching TV.  Won’t that be cool? Can you imagine relaxing in front of your favorite show, the phone rings, but without even moving a hair, you’ll know who is on the phone when the TV scrolls:  “Baby-girl is calling!”  And best of all, I saved us $60 per month on expenses.

(Any purchase is wonderful to WW if a deal can be done.)

September 23, 2013

Used by permission:  Adam Zyglis, The Buffalo News

MOI:      (Groan)  Noooooo. . .I don’t want that crap interrupting my TV shows—no matter how much money you’ve saved.  And how long will the cable man be putzing around the house and interrupting my writing?  I’m still in my PJs.

WW:     No worries—it won’t be long, I promise.  Be glad I’m home to take care of all these important upgrades.  It’s good to have a man around the house.  But first things first:  get off the phone, shut down your computer, and turn off your phone so the cable man can change it all over to the new modem.  Maybe you should go get a mani-pedi while the cable man and I get everything up to speed.

I got dressed.  I did errands.  I returned.

Nothing worked once the new modem was installed.  It has been three business days and a weekend with WW popping in and out of my office like a jack rabbit.  The cable man couldn’t find the splitter because he was agitated and in a hurry.  He claimed his service calls had quadrupled due to so many furloughed men calling to get cable work done in their man caves.   Our “His and Her” printers were knocked offline by the new equipment and only “his” printer is back up and running, but my manuscripts were due to my beta reading group this weekend.  After much cursing and gnashing of teeth and computer technicians from here to India scratching their heads in perplexity, WW has been clocking nine-hour days trying to restore everything to normal before I completely lose it.  Everything is not back to normal and I have missed oodles of writing time.  Calls were placed to two independent IT people, but they never called back or maybe I missed their names flashing across our fancy TV.   I am desperately trying to get ahold of the Geek Squad or Jesus—whoever comes first.   I need somebody to fix my printer (ASAP) and upend this shutdown (double ASAP) so that I can send my husband back to work before I go insane.

Republican Congress:  I will NEVER forgive you for this!  Not only have you behaved like terrorists and shut down the government, robbing the poor of what they need, but you have robbed me of a week and a half of sanity.  A pox on all your heads!

Tea Party II David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Used by permission:  David Fitzsimmons, The Arizona Star

I am discovering that I’ve been singing the old spiritual “I Got Shoes” for days now as I plot my revenge against the Christian block of the Tea Party (40%) and the Christian voters who believe in the inerrancy of the Bible (67% of population).  This song, like many others during the time of slavery, was a protest song to decry the hypocrisy of the slave owners and/or the ruling class:

I got shoes, you got shoes,

All God’s children got shoes.

When I get to Heav’n gonna put on my shoes,

Gonna walk all over God’s Heav’n, Heav’n, Heav’n,

Everybody talkin’ ‘bout Heav’n ain’t goin’ there,

Heav’n, Heav’n, Heav’n.

Gonna walk all over God’s Heav’n

In actuality, the slaves didn’t have shoes—they were a luxury.  But they knew that in God’s eyes they were equal to all of His other children who had shoes, and that they would assuredly have covering on their feet from a “just God” when they got to Heaven.  They also knew that those who had plenty of shoes on Earth and proclaimed the name of Christ were not necessarily going to Heaven unless they lived according to the dictates of Jesus. Basically, “shoes on Earth” was all the “haves” were going to get because they had failed to “love their neighbor as themselves.”  Be afraid, Tea Party peeps—be very afraid.  I’ve told you before—God don’t like ugly!

obama thinking jesus about dot com

**********

“The lyricist continues, exclaiming that ‘everybody talkin’ ‘bout Heav’n ain’t goin’ there.’ Here, the emphasis is on hypocrisy. The slave master, claiming to be Christian, goes to church every Sunday morning, where he and other congregants talk and sing about Jesus and Heaven. But when he returns to the plantation on Sunday afternoon, he presides over a decidedly un-Heavenly, immoral enterprise, slavery, and participates actively in the un-Heavenly and immoral physical, emotional . . . abuse of other human beings.”The Spirituals Project at the University of Denver

“Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.”—Proverbs 19:17

“For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,   I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’   Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?  And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?  And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’  And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’”  Matthew 25: 35-40

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.”—Psalm 82:3

“If your brother becomes poor and cannot maintain himself with you, you shall support him as though he were a stranger and a sojourner, and he shall live with you. Take no interest from him or profit, but fear your God, that your brother may live beside you.”—Leviticus 25:35-36

https://www.facebook.com/Christiansagainstea

REFERENCES

http://radio.foxnews.com/2013/10/06/government-shutdown-was-planned-for-months-by-ed-meese-koch-bros/

http://swampland.time.com/2013/10/04/poor-families-taking-a-hit-from-government-shutdown/

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 
20 Comments

Posted by on October 8, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Can You Hear Me Now?

Do you know what I’ve discovered?   I need to get a note to Steve Jobs and tell him to get his behind back down to Earth and create an anti-rudeness App for the monster he created and left behind.  I love the quote of the late George Carlin, “I don’t have pet peeves . . . I have pure psychopathic hatreds,” because it’s how I feel about cell phone abuse that disturbs my peace and draws me into dramas that are none of my business, but that I can’t help overhearing.  Not to mention when I’m on the other end of the phone conversation, and I can’t tell whether the caller is talking to me or the cashier they are transacting a sale with while pouring out their heart to me regarding some personal heartbreak.

So I wrote Steve Jobs a letter.

cell phone Bob Englehart  The Hartford Courant

Used by permission:  Bob Englehart, The Hartford Courant/Cagle Cartoons

Dear Steve.

I don’t mean to disturb your respite, but that god-awful machine you thrust upon us has become a monster, and it is increasingly robbing our relationships and depriving us of peace and rest. I know you aren’t the only cell phone inventor, but you are the one whose products we use more than any other.  I’m sure you don’t give a shit about the banalities of Earth, given the perspective you must have now, but Apple is coming out with a new iteration of your iPhone that will utilize our finger prints as a security measure, and it is Big Brother’s version of a wet dream.  The Black community is freaking out and is awash with conspiracy theories about how The Man has invented one more thing to corral us and take us out (“How do you know Jobs is really dead? He’s probably cooking up some diabolical plan in some back room somewhere to steal Black folks’ fingerprints to mess with us.  Don’t forget the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment!”)

Dude, you left us in a mess down here.  Your cell phones interrupt our lives as if they own us.  No one can tell time from a normal clock anymore because cell phones will give it to us digitally any time of the day or night.  They control our mail and reduce our writing skills to “txt msgs” of obliterated language usage; they tell us when to wake up and go to bed, and some people think they even cause cancer.  There is an App for everything except for how not to be rude while talking on one of them. We are never without these things, and it is mainly because you made us think, through your mind-melding advertising, that we couldn’t live without one of your “iThingies.”  According to Huffington Post, “sixty-three percent of smartphone users age 18-29 admit to drifting off to sleep with a cell phone, smartphone or tablet in their bed. . .” And don’t even get me started on the deaths.  I bet you’ve met quite a few “dths by txting wyl drvng” in your new location.

Texting while driving II Jeff Parker Florida Today

Used by permission: Jeff Parker Florida Today/Cagle Cartoons

But the rudeness!  Steve, I can’t handle the rudeness. Not too long ago I was in an airport and sat down in one of the last seats available at my departure gate.  I was tired, I was stressed, and all I wanted to do was chill out and wait quietly for my plane while I listened to a little John Legend.  Even with ear buds in my ears connected to one of your iPods, I couldn’t help overhear the domestic dispute of a pilot who was hitching a flight on my plane.  She was fighting with her ex-husband over his inability to step up to the plate to provide childcare while she worked, even though that had been part of their divorce agreement.  (Steve, I ask you:  Why was this drama my business?)  After interrupting the pilot to ask if she was flying my plane (“No”), I decided to take a bathroom break to get away from the domestic squabble.  As I went in search of a ladies room, some guy the size of a wall ran into me in the hallway and almost knocked me over because he was texting and didn’t see me.  Instead of being apologetic, he seemed angry that I had gotten in his way.  In the bathroom, some teenager was having a meltdown with her boyfriend via her cell phone as she sat on the toilet in the stall next to me.  Although, “You’re a pile of shit, Donnie,” seemed to fit the bathroom stall situation we were in, I still didn’t need to hear that one-sided, angst-ridden conversation while trying to relieve my bowels.  I have enough trouble in that arena just being old.  As I went to wash my hands, I overheard a Millennial standing next to me calling in sick to work.  She was wearing a T-shirt that said, “What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas.”  As I looked at her in the mirror with total bemusement, she shot me a classic retort as she ended her call:  “What’s your problem, bitch, don’t you have a life?  Stop listenin’ in on my biznez!”

WHAT!

cell phone intervention mike lester

Cartoonist Mike Lester/Cagle Cartoons

But, Stevie Baby, nothing tipped the cell phone rudeness scale as I returned to my seat (the pilot had ended her conversation with her ex-husband and was now talking to her best friend about what an asshole her ex is) like the PSA I pulled up on my cell phone that was posted on YouTube.  Check this out, and let me know if this might not be a good reason for you to secretly return and help your Apple peeps create an anti-rudeness cell phone App for future generations.  Remember, your children are growing up in this cesspool.

This is the script of an actual VM a customer left at Alamo Drafthouse in Texas after they threw her out for inappropriate cell phone use.  They are now using her VM message as a PSA to help stop cell phone abuse in their theaters: (Courtesy of MrDisgusting: “Stop Being a Victim—You Can Stop Cell Phone Use in Theaters!”)

Steve, as you read this imagine the voice of a female teenage meth head or the character of Tiffany “Pennsatucky” Doggett from “Orange is the New Black.”

Tiffany Pennsatucky Doggett

Tiffany “Pennsatucky” Doggett|Orange is the New Black wiki.com

VOICEMAIL LEFT BY DISGRUNTLED CUSTOMER TO ALAMO DRAFT HOUSE

“Yeah, I was wondering if you guys actually enjoy treating your customers like a pieces of shit because that’s how I felt when I went to the Alamo Drafthouse, okaaaay!  You know what—I deent KNOW that I wasn’t supposed to text in your little crappy-ass theater.  It was too fucking dark in that place for me to find my seat.  Awright?   I was using MY PHONE as a flashlight to get to my FUCKIN’ seat.  Soooo EXCUUUUSE me for using my phone in the USA MAGNITED states of America where you are free to text in a thee-A-ther.  I was not aware I could not text in your theAther.  Awright!?  I texted in all the other theAthers in Austin, and no one ever gave a fuck about what I was doing with my fuckin’ phone, awright?  . . .you guys obviously were being assholes to me. . . and I’m sure that’s what you do. . .you rip people off—you take my money and then you throw me out.    I will never come back to your Alamo Drafthouse.   I’d rather go to a regular theAther where people are polite . . . thanks for making me feel like a customer, assholes!”

***

I rest my case, Steve.  Do something!

Warm Regards,

ET

P.S.  I haven’t even gotten around to telling you how much I hate selfies.  No one is experiencing the moment anymore because everybody is too busy documenting it.  Have you seen the cell phone pictures of “look at the food I’m eating, y’all?”  Auuuuugh!  Can you imagine what history would have been like if they’d had cell phones?  Nothing would have been conquered, overturned, or gotten done.  This is all your fault, Jobs!

Cell Phone French Revolution Cardow The Ottawa Citizen

Used by permission:  Cardow, The Ottawa Citizen/Cagle Cartoons

I am discovering that people like me are going to have to take matters into our own hands and help set up laws that contain the rudeness spill-over from cell phone conversations.  In movie theaters I propose that we fight for signal jammers in our movie houses as part of a pleasant movie-going experience.  If the movie theaters refuse to comply, then let’s stay home until they do.  Airports should adopt “talking rooms” like what they’ve done for smokers, and they should never, ever approve cell phone usage while in flight.  Can you imagine?  If they do, we should all drive here and there or only take cell phone free trains.  The loss of revenue will get the airlines in shape.  Before Apple is allowed to invade our privacy even more by issuing an iPhone that is secured with our finger print (something that is unique to each of us and if stolen could wreak havoc until the day we die), why don’t the sane people amongst us demand some ground rules—a contract of civility that people have to sign before purchasing their next coveted Apple upgrade?

Yeah, right—it ain’t gonna happen!  We sold our souls to the Devil when we signed our cell phone contracts, and now we will have to live with that imprisonment:  lost time, lost concentration, lost physical connections with flesh and blood, lost courtesy, lost peace, lost, lost, lost . . . and you know the irony of it all?  When I desperately needed a cell phone to help me locate my husband on 9/11 and to let my family know I was okay after the recent earthquake in our area, every cell phone around me was inoperable because all the towers were jammed and yet any Anthony can send me a photo of his wiener any day or night.

Steve, tell me again why another iteration of your invention will make my life so much better?  Steve?  Steve?  Can you hear me now?  Don’t you dare put me on hold!

Cell phone prison Osama Hajjaj Jordan

Used by permission:  Osama Hajjaj Jordan

  “I don’t even have voice mail or answering machines anymore. I hate the phone, and I don’t want to call anybody back. If I go to hell, it will be a small closet with a telephone in it, and I will be doomed and destined for eternity to return phone calls.”—Drew Barrymore

“Well, if I called the wrong number, why did you answer the phone?”—James Thurber

“It’s getting harder and harder to differentiate between schizophrenics and people talking on a cell phone. It still brings me up short to walk by somebody who appears to be talking to themselves.”—Bob Newhart

“Recently I was directing an episode of ‘Glee’ and I lost my cell phone – and I didn’t have time to buy a new one for three weeks. Well, the first few days I was anxious as hell, suffered the delirium tremens, didn’t think I could make it through, etc. Then something kind of curious happened – I began to feel great.”—Eric Stoltz

“One look at an email can rob you of 15 minutes of focus. One call on your cell phone, one tweet, one instant message can destroy your schedule, forcing you to move meetings, or blow off really important things, like love, and friendship.”—Jacqueline Leo

REFERENECES

http://thegrio.com/2013/09/16/iphone-fingerprint-technology-should-blacks-be-wary/

http://bloody-disgusting.com/news/3223252/stop-being-a-victim-you-can-stop-cell-phone-use-in-theaters/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/09/16/sleep-phone-tablet-bed_n_3924161.html?utm_hp_ref=mostpopular

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Shhh

 
24 Comments

Posted by on September 18, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

The TSA and Me

Do you know what I’ve discovered?  Fear of the unknown plagues us from kindergarten to the grave.  It might even start at birth; maybe that is the reason for the blood-curdling cry that all babies cut loose when they take their first gulp of air—“What the fuck is going on, and why didn’t anyone warn me about what to expect on this third rock from the sun?”  My grandson started kindergarten today, and when asked how he was handling it all, as he resolutely marched toward the school with a grimace on his face, he replied:  “I feel a little crunchy inside—you know—I’m a little bit waggy.”  I just had an encounter with the TSA this weekend (when will they ever get over the fact that I’m black with a Polish name and I dress like a diva?), and I know exactly what my grandson means.

TSA School Starts

Used by permission:  Cartoonist, David Fitzsimmons—The Arizona Star

I’m one of the most organized people on the planet.  I am so because I don’t like surprises.  I’m not interested in the unknown popping up when I least expect it and messing with me.  When you’ve been raised by a pack of wolves as a child like I was, chaos follows you around like a cluster of tornados.  You can surrender to the mayhem and lose your soul, or you can try to put up knowledgeable barriers to shield your life and keep that shit at bay.  Before any unknown procedure or journey, I ask questions (every which way but Sunday), I research, and I practice, practice, practice.  (If I have to drive to a new location for a doctor’s appointment or the like, I’ll practice how to get there the day before so as not to get lost on the day of and end up being late.)  My methodology is exhausting but at least I am usually well-prepared, on time, and in command. There are rarely any surprises in my life—except when it comes to the TSA.  I don’t know what it is about those people and me, but no two trips are ever the same when it comes to me passing through their realm unscathed.

TSA Clean Underwear Bob Englehart The Hartford Courant

Used by permission:  Cartoonist Bob Englehart, The Hartford Courant

I just got back from a trip this weekend and despite all my best efforts, I got patted down by the TSA (TSA probably mistook my fluffer-nutter, post-menopausal belly to be ideal smuggling encasement for drugs?), my head got swiped with a wand (TSA probably thought wig was a great camouflage for an Uzi?), and I took my 567th nudie pic in the “Orgasmatron known as the full-body scan” (TSA probably thought my old-lady bits were perfect hiding places for explosives?).   But I’m used to this and come prepared because the TSA can’t get over the chocolate face with the Polish name.  It sends them into tilt every time.  I usually carry a white man with me and announce loudly that I belong to him as I pass through the security line (“Coming through and I’m married to the white dude up ahead”).  I travel with my passport at all times so that the black face and the Polish last name carry more gravitas.  It usually works—but not this time.  As I bent over to put my shoes back on after running the gauntlet, something goosed me in the ass—not once, but twice!  When I stood up to see what it was, it turned out to be a bomb-sniffing dog and his handler.

TSA Pat Down Nate Beeler The Columbus Dispatch

Used by permission: Nate Beeler, The Columbus Dispatch

Now what that dog thought I had up my ass is beyond me!  I wanted to say something (“WTF!”) so badly when the cop scrutinized me up and down as his bomb-sniffing dog circled in and around me and my stuff.   But I knew I’d get hauled off to some holding room for questioning and miss the flight to my grandson’s 5th birthday party.  So I pulled myself together and continued on my way, and I ran right into another TSA person a couple yards away who menacingly took a picture of me without explanation.  His face read:  “Slightly chunky terrorist/drug-mule with Polish name got past canine but still remains suspicious—documenting her features in case there is an issue on the other end.”  Like the canine handler, the picture taker looked mean but he didn’t say a word—he just clicked away.   By this point in the TSA maze, I couldn’t tell why they thought I looked suspicious.  As I started to confront the TSA camera man to explain himself, my husband grabbed my arm and shuffled me off toward our gate before I could say a word as if to say: “Choose your battles, Cutie—there is nothing you could have done to prepare for this.”

Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that I think I’m going to prepare for my next flight by wearing a sign to the airport in order to make my passageway a little smoother.

DEAR TSA PEEPS:

I’ve done everything you’ve asked and complied with all the rules and still you mess with me when I travel.  I know I don’t look Polish, but it doesn’t mean I stole my identification and am traveling incognito as a drug mule or a terrorist.  Trust me, if I were going to steal a name it would be something like Juliette Binoche or Isabelle Adjani—not Tomczyk (sorry Honey), and if I were going to be a drug mule, I’d look like Angelina Jolie.  In fact, if you think I’ve stolen my identity then I suggest you return to profiling school for another go-around with an addendum covering “How Sixty-five-year-old Black Divas Roll.”  As to my enticing behind, my perfume probably messed with your dog’s sense of smell the last time, because I did a pass-over on my ass with a spritz of Very Irresistible Perfume by Givenchy before we left the house.  The scent was supposed to arouse my husband not your canine patrol.   I promise not to be so heavy-handed next time.

*

WW (my husband) says he doesn’t plan to travel with me on the days I bring my sign because he is not prepared for the unknown world of going to jail.   Just the thought of being thrown in jail by the TSA because his wife can’t keep her mouth shut makes him all “crunchy and a little bit waggy” inside.

TSA Check Dignity Rick McKee The Augusta Chronicle

Used by permission: Rick McKee, The Augusta Chronicle

I am discovering that there are a lot of things in life that you cannot prepare for:  a couple of them are the first day you enter kindergarten and every time you encounter the TSA.   The “unknown” is meant to build courage in us as we fight the good fight of living life.  I’ll tell my grandson that the best way to conquer the unknowns in kindergarten is to put one foot in front of the other and charge full speed ahead, trusting that he will wind up where he’s supposed to be in due time.  I’ll have to do the same thing when I travel and determine to keep my mouth shut no matter how humiliating the pre-boarding process becomes.  Besides, I have an eerie feeling that the real terrorists are just thrilled with the undignified tangles they have embroiled us in, and they are hoping we’ll all lose our minds in the process.   I must never give them the satisfaction of having a meltdown.  Why would terrorists ever need to bomb us as long as the TSA is hell-bent on traumatizing diva grandmothers on their way to visit their grandkids?  Just the thought of it does make one all crunchy and a little bit waggy inside!

TSA Full Cavity John Darkow Columbia Daily Tribune Missouri

Used by permission:  John Darkow, Columbia Daily Tribune-Missouri

 “Have you heard the TSA’s new slogan?’ We handle more junk than eBay.'” –Jay Leno

The TSA has issued some special packing tips for travelers before Thanksgiving weekend. They say not to bring food, sharp tools, or any shred of dignity.” –Jimmy Fallon

“It was bad enough when the TSA agents would go through your underwear in your luggage. Now they’re going through your underwear while you’re wearing it.” –Jay Leno

“You can opt out of the full-body scan and choose the alternative, letting the TSA touch your T&A. It’s just like an 8th grade basement make-out party, except instead of your mother interrupting, she’s getting stroked in the next line.” –Stephen Colbert

“There was supposed to be a protest, but nobody opted out of the full-body scans, maybe because of the signs TSA posted: ‘If you are embarrassed by your penis size, you may opt out of being scanned.'”–Jimmy Kimmel

TSA Terrorists won Mike Keefe Cagle Cartoons

Used by Permission:   Mike Keefe, Cagle Cartoons

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on September 9, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Standing My Ground on Fear

Do you know what I’ve discovered?   I think I need to get a gun.  I haven’t talked it over with my husband yet, but I will when he returns.  I’m becoming increasingly paranoid about the weirdos that I keep bumping into in my neighborhood, at the doctor’s office, in my church, and at the mall.  And then there is the news.  The more I read the more paranoid I become.  The more I think about the Zimmerman case, the more I think that maybe his defense was right when I review the times I’ve noticed suspicious-looking characters and needed to Stand My Ground to protect me from an imagined threat.  The only problem is I’ve never owned a gun, but how hard can it be to get one?  Seems to me, given the 2nd Amendment, any idiot can own a gun.

gun ownership by idiots Pat Bagley, Salt Lake Tribune

Used by permission:  Gun ownership by idiots by Pat Bagley, Salt Lake Tribune

So when my husband, WW, called home from his business trip last week, I decided to run my latest “revelation” (that’s what I call my harebrained schemes) by him, and hoped I’d get his buy-in.

WW:     “Hey, Cutie!  What have you been up to since I’ve been gone?”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  “Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that, and. . . I’m thinking of buying a gun.”

WW:     “WHAT?  No, no, no, no, NO!  For Christ’s sake:  what brought this on?  I’ve only been gone two days.”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  Fear!  I’ve become increasingly paranoid about the people I don’t know and maybe even some of the ones I do know—especially those who have become Tea Party advocates and Glenn Beck and Sean Hannity supporters. (Remember how our friends used to be sane?)  Well, some of them are not anymore, and they are scaring the shit out of me.  Who knows how long it will take before they believe one of Beck’s conspiracies and come after me to take me out?”

WW:     “Cutie, first of all, you don’t hang with those people anymore and neither one of us has any intention of renewing our acquaintances with them.  Secondly, you don’t know the first thing about guns.”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  “I don’t need to know anything about guns—they are part of my God-given constitutional rights.  The 2nd Amendment is sacrosanct.  Besides, the local Wal-Mart will sell me what I need and tell me where I can go to get myself trained to hit any asshole with my best shot—fire away!   I need groceries, anyway, so when you come back, let’s pick up some household staples and a 9×19 mm Walther P99, German semi-automatic pistol.  That should fit my needs, although it might be too big to fit in my purse.  I’ll have to bring in several of my Coach bags to see which pistol will travel in style.”

Gun for Stand Your Ground Olle Johansson  Sweden

Used by permission: Olle Johansson | Sweden

WW:  “The bastardization of Pat Benatar’s song notwithstanding:  What has gotten into you since I’ve been gone?”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  “Well, since you’ve been gone, buddy:  FEAR—PURE UNADULTERATED FEAR!”  Maybe the NRA is right:  If I get a gun, I will be emboldened to tread where I’ve never gone before.  Did you see the article in the paper that reported several cases of men coming to the doors of unsuspecting homeowners in our area and pretending they were there from the Public Works Department to check out the home’s water lines?”

WW:     “Nooooooo . . . What has this to do with you turning into Django Unchained?”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  “It was all a ruse!  Once they got in, they stole whatever they could get their hands on while they distracted the homeowner in the basement.  Well, don’t you know, a guy stopped by the other day and said he was from the Public Works Department and needed to check my water line.”

WW:     “You didn’t let him in, did you?”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN: “Of course not— I’m nobody’s fool!  But then he didn’t ask to come in; he just let me know he was on the property and went to the side of the house to fiddle with the water main.  But I could tell it was all a ruse, and he was up to no good because it was just like the newspaper said it would happen, AND he was the spitting image of George Zimmerman—before he gained 130 pounds.  Rumor has it that George has been hanging out in our area.  I think his parents live over in Maryland somewhere.   After giving the “Public Works” guy the evil eye for a while (I stared at him from the window), it was right then and there that I knew I might need to shoot through the window into his ass while he was bending over the water main before he could gain entrance into my castle and steal my shit—or even worse.  I mean, I may be old, but men could still try to mess with me—if you know what I mean.  In fact, the paper said that a ninety-year-old woman got raped the other day.  I mean all systems point to me needing a gun.”

WW:     “Uh huh.  And did you ever find out who the man was at the door because I know and you know that it couldn’t have possibly been George Zimmerman?”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  (barely audible) “Well, he was really a public works man with a legitimate excuse to be on our property.  To tell you the truth, I think I scared the shit out of him because he kept looking over his shoulder at me, finished the job in record time, and raced away in his clearly marked public works truck as fast as he could.  “He was driving so fast that I could hear the tires screeching as he pulled away from the curb.”

WW:  “He probably thought he was going to be shot in the ass by a crazy woman.”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  “Whatever!  There was another man who came by yesterday trying to talk me into letting him install new windows in the house—new windows, my ass!  You will never believe who he looked like?”

WW:  “Let me guess:  Charles Manson?”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  “No . . . the FAT GEORGE ZIMMERMAN—the Zimmerman who has gained 130 pounds!”

WW:  “Oh for God’s sake.  I’m coming home ASAP.  Try not to kill anybody before I return.”

ANNIE-GET-YOUR-GUN:  “Humph!  WW, I have to protect myself, and you need to know that I may not wait for you to return before I start packing heat.  I’m looking up fashionable leather holsters online even as we speak. So don’t use your house key because you might scare the devil out of me and cause me to shoot first and ask questions later.  Let’s establish a secret knock so that I know it’s you.  Try and get here before it gets dark because I’m especially paranoid after the sun goes down, and start calling my name as soon as you enter the house so that I recognize your voice and don’t mistake you for a mad rapist.  Tell the kids not to come home unannounced!”

WW:     “Oh, God . . .”

Standing my ground Daryl Cagle  CagleCartoons com

Used by permission:  Daryl Cagle CagleCartoons.com

I am discovering that the Stand Your Ground law is just another component of America’s love affair with guns that is immoral and has been birthed out of the manipulated fear towards our fellowman by the National Rifle Association (NRA) and the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), who have pushed this law into existence in twenty-five states.  In the last thirty years, guns sales had been plummeting and the gun industry discovered that if they could manipulate Americans with fear that our “castles,” our children, our sidewalks, our parks, our neighbors, our places of worship, our shit were just one confrontation away from being stolen or harmed, then they could make money in perpetuity.  The NRA has made us believe that backing away from a public confrontation when it is safe to do so (like staying in your truck as Zimmerman was told to do by the police) and avoiding the murder of another human being is no longer the mark of a godly man or nation, but gunning down one’s neighbor is our constitutional right and one we should be proud to uphold.  And, oh yeah, there is a slight detail that bears mentioning:  the gun industry’s reward for this strategy—12 billion dollars a year.  In other words, my fellow Americans:  we’ve been had by a very cynical, greedy, and sick industry!  (Remember how the cigarette industry pushed smoking as sexy, cool, non-addictive, and not harmful, when its executives had a gazillion studies in their desk drawers that showed smoking was addictive and caused cancer?  Hmmm!)

stand ground reverse response RJ Matson

Used by permission:  Stand ground reverse response |Cartoonist: RJ Matson

I am also discovering that the Stand Your Ground law, beyond that of your castle being stormed by zombies, is a license to kill.  (IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER:  If you break into my home with the intent to rape and murder me and my family, and I can’t get away from you, I will stand my ground and blow your fucking brains out with whatever I can get my hands on.  I get that part of the law.)  But the part of Stand Your Ground law that needs to be adjusted is born out in the following story:

Last year, John Henry Spooner, 76, of Wisconsin

Shot and killed his 13-year-old neighbor who was returning his family’s garbage can from the curb.

Mr. Spooner shot Darius Simmons, 13, on the sidewalk

While the child’s mother looked on in horror

While the child tried to run away, screaming, “Don’t shoot me, please don’t shoot me,”

While the neighbor shot at him several times,

As Darius Simmons died in his mother’s arms on the sidewalk.

When asked why Spooner shot the African-American teen,

The white man said he thought the boy had stolen his shit (his stash of guns)

No evidence of such a theft was found—only Mr. Spooner’s paranoia.

Irony:  the entire murder was captured by Mr. Spooner’s security camera on his house.

When asked if Spooner felt bad about taking the life of a child before he was sentenced to life in prison,

Mr. Spooner’s reply was:  “No, not that bad.”

Darius’ mother’s reply was:  “Oh my God!”**

Guns friend or foe Luojie, China Daily, China

Used by Permission: Guns friend or foe: Luojie, China Daily, China

 “To him who is in fear everything rustles.”Sophocles

“There is no passion so contagious as that of fear.”—Michel de Montaigne

 “You can’t buy six packs of nasal decongestant but you can buy a .50 calibre sniper’s rifle, just like the US military uses in Afghanistan.”Patrick Radden Keefe blogged for The New Yorker magazine

“What has happened is the ‘Stand Your Ground’ law has become so over-arching that the definition has been lost. There are a lot of people claiming ‘Stand Your Ground.’”—Bob Buckhorn

“…if you’ve had a terrible day, if you just don’t like the other guy very much or if you want to try out that new handgun you just bought, you can feel free to escalate the level of violence in a physical altercation by shooting him. Even if you kill him, the law has got your back. You’ll be immune not only from criminal prosecution, but also from any potential civil lawsuits.”—Ladd Everitt from Waging Nonviolence*

Guns are Sacred END David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

Used by permission:  Guns are Sacred | David Fitzsimmons The Arizona Star

REFERENCES

http://blogs.suntimes.com/backtalk/2013/07/the_bloody_idiocy_of_stand-you.html

*http://wagingnonviolence.org/feature/why-stand-your-ground-is-really-kill-at-will/

**http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/wisconsin-man-tells-jurors-he-killed-13-year-old-neighbor-out-of-anger-and-to-seek-justice/2013/07/18/e0f9467e-eff5-11e2-8c36-0e868255a989_singlePage.html?tid=obnetwork

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Eleanor Tomczyk and “How the Hell Did I End Up Here?” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 
19 Comments

Posted by on July 23, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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