About Me

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I'm an artist, educator, militant anti-theist , and I write. I gamble on just about anything. And I like beer...but I love my wife. This blog contains observations from a funny old man who gets pissed off every once in a while.

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

TUESDAY #2739

One Of My Very Own…



ralph.henry.at.folio.olio@gmail.com



Leaving for my family reunion tomorrow. Posts until following Monday may be a little below par.

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GAMBLING BY THE NUMBER

There has never been an NBA team to come back from a 3-1 deficient...never. So I took the Warriors and got my ass handed to me.

Similarly, on Thursday, when Johnson jumped out to a slight lead, a guy wanted to bet me that he would win the US Open. The numbers told me he had one golfer; I had the rest of the field. I took the bet and lost again.

But speaking of Johnson, he is a graduate of Coastal Carolina, a small school on the coast of my state. On the same day Coastal's baseball team beat number 1 Florida in the College World Series. It was a good day to be a Chanticleer. Which is a great mascot. You might want to look it up.





I once outlined a short story about that very thing. A young African boy collected every T-shirt and cap that was sent because that team lost the championship, but he didn't know they lost. He thought they had won. He had all of them memorized and impressed his friends with his knowledge. Then as a young man he immigrated to America and found out that his whole life was a lie and he returned to Africa.

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This is why you want to avoid fallen power lines.


I read a news article about the most deadly lightning strike and it involved dozens of people leaning against the same chainlink fence when it was hit by lightning.

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Well, summer has finally arrived here in the South.


But I remind everyone of the wonderful spring we had.

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"Look, you are a great friend and all, but I bought the exact number of beers I want to drink right now."
"But I only..."
"The EXACT amount."


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I think that's a fine idea.

Here's my favorite.

STRING OF PEARLS by GLENN MILLER

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Didn't catch this guy's name, but I like his work...




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Oh, my. Door. Key. Brass tag.


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People shouldn't be angry that I don't do stuff. People should be happy that I don't murder their family and burn their house down.

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Doc: Your insurance won't cover it all.
Me: What if I sewed myself shut?

Doc: Suture self.

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Sorry for that one.

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The FBI's terrorist hotline is not a place to chat with hot terrorists. I know that now.

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The wording in the article was...odd:
"The sword would be tested on a live, often-screaming, condemned criminal."

More knife news...


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I really like clever captions...


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What do you think this is?


It's a heavy-duty leather face protector for bikers.

If you ever found yourself sliding down the highway on you face, you would thank them.

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The next time you think you have real problems...


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Never look at the guy riding a unicycle. You're just giving him what he wants.

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What fun.


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My wife has great friends at her nail salon. They all immigrated from Vietnam and periodically one of them will go back for a visit. This reminded me of how immigrants have always and will always strengthen our country.


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This first one may seem cruel, but their is wisdom in the madness.

Of course if over half your children die before adulthood, it behooves you to have more. The fact that more die because you are poor only enhances the need to have more.

I agree...and birth control pills. I think there should be dispensers on ever street corner. And why don't we do such a socially responsible thing? God.


If gods could be rated like restaurants and hotels...

(I found that very funny.)

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Hired a professional wedding photographer with strict instruction to capture the first kiss, and...


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Okay, I understand why horses need metal shoes now; what with concrete roads and stuff.

But why did farm horse need them? There was only dirt. Are horse in the wild plagued with fucked up feet? I don't think so.

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If there is a neverending internet argument, it is this...

Of course, like every sane person, I'm an over guy.

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My young neighbor keeps putting her toilet paper rolls on backwards and I have no way to tell her how I know that.

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Sleeping student decided to drop in on lecture...


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I requested the number 867-5309 from my cellular provider because I like being annoyed to the point of rage.
(I didn't make that up. I read it somewhere and have no idea what it means.)

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What fun...


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I once lied to my principal that I had to leave work early because I had severe stomach pains. Later that afternoon two co-workers used the same excuse and claimed I gave it to them.

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18 minutes of fireworks shot off in about 15 seconds.


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"Rectum, hell! Damn near killed him."

I saw a documentary about that very thing on Pornhub.

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Something to think about...


And one more thing to think about...


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JESUS: I am the way, the truth, and the life.
ME: Yep, this guy is definitely an only child.

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3 comments:

Ninja Grrrl said...

867-5309 is a song by Tommy Tutone. It was catchy and inane, and anyone who ever had that phone number has long since changed it I'm sure. I remember morning radio shows where they called that phone number using every area code in the continental US, and that was just one show in one day. I think it was popular during the 80's at some point, I don't remember the 80's very well.

David said...

I like the mother-in -law oomvo. Her one redeeming quality was it was so much fun to annoy her. I would just ask out the blue "why are you mad?"

Ralph Henry said...

Me, mad? I'm the least mad man alive today. Fuck you.

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