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But first, a few very important things you should know about how it all began.

In the beginning, God said, "Adam, I gave you that really nifty penis to use, not sit around and stare at all day. Now, get out there and poke something."

Adam replied, "Up yours, dude. These animals get really pissed when I try that stuff, and I'm not getting my ass clawed all to hell just so you can watch."

God thought for a moment. "How about I create you a bitch?"

"Cool," said Adam. "You make it; I'll poke it."

So, God created Eve and said, "Adam, this is Eve."

To which Adam exclaimed, "Wow! Look at those tits."

At this, Eve uttered a disgusted "Harrumph," turned on her heels, and stomped off to another part of the garden.

God, sensing trouble, hurried after her, and catching up asked, "Jesus, Eve. Why are you being such a twit?"

Eve replied, "Who's Jesus?"

God said, "Never mind. What I'm concerned about is you copping an attitude just because Adam appreciates a nice rack."

Eve began to cry.

"Christ, Eve," said God. "Stop with the waterworks."

Eve sobbed, "Who's Christ?

"Never mind," yelled God, getting a little flustered. "Look. Here's the deal. It's the beginning, right? This is the time I create stuff, so I created, well, you know… all the stuff. When it was all done I decided to put something alive in this snazzy garden I'd thrown together. So, I created a penis cause I thought it would be fun to watch it poke at things. I put it here in the garden, but it just lay there on the ground doing nothing. So I put some legs on it so it could get around, but it kept bumping into things, so I stuck a brain on top to show it where to go. That worked fine, and I named it Adam. Your job is to let it poke at you once in a while. Now, is that asking too much?"

Still sobbing, Eve asked, "But why is it such a pig, and how about a little romance?"

"Number one," replied God, "it's not a pig, it's a penis. Number two, well, sorry, but I didn't add any romance to it, only that poking instinct. That's really all it is, just a penis with a brain to point it towards something to poke at."

Pondering her options, Eve demanded, "Okay, I'll let it poke at me occasionally, but you have to let me run the world."

God said, "Uh, that'll be a little tough since it's bigger than you. But wait, I've got an idea. I'll put something really cool on you like... oh, I don't know... I'll think of something—something that will pretty much guarantee things will always go your way. How's that?"

Eve, now assured she would always be in control of the world and anxious to get started, agreed, then walked back to where Adam was waiting and said, "Hi there big boy! Gee, have you been working out?"

So, after all was said and done, everything worked out just fine. God's happy, Eve's happy and Adam thinks he's happy.

ON THE OTHER HAND - THE ALTERNATIVE

In the beginning, God created Adam and placed him in the Garden of Eden where Adam lived a wonderful, happy, fulfilled life. God, who obviously is a woman—since no man would have invented circumcision—became agitated at seeing Adam so happy, so she created Eve and said, "Eve, go down there and stir up some shit."

Now, Eve, being freshly created, and having no idea how to go about stirring up shit, asked, "How, exactly, do I do that?"

And God, who is no stranger to stirring up shit herself, answered, "Just be yourself."

So Eve went down to the Garden of Eden where, much to the dismay of Adam and all his descendants, she and all her descendants have been stirring their little brains out ever since. Not deliberately, of course, just "being themselves."

Although the story above is fiction, the female propensity for stirring is not. The woman's instinct to keep the air redolent with the smell of shit comes not from a vengeful, man hating, penis-envying, lesbian God, but from the fact that they're smaller than men, have less effect on their physical environment, and get pushed around all their lives. It's their way of saying, "I Exist!" It's the female version of Cogito Ergo Sum – "I stir shit, therefore I am." A strong man can move mountains, shape history, and rule worlds. But, unfortunately, man's majestic accomplishments often collapse under the weight of the unbelievable amount of shit a tiny little woman can stir up. A good example of this was the mighty Samson.... and little, friggin, Delilah.

Understanding the shit stirring instinct, and other bizarre female behavior, requires understanding how smaller organisms use rationalization to, figuratively, level the playing field in order to compete with larger organisms—in this case small women belittling large men in an attempt to create an imagined equality between the sexes. The small female's most obvious effort to affect the above is to corrupt the larger male's basic attitudes and needs by attaching nonsensical values to his actions and motivations. So adept is the female at stirring up shit that she can, in this case, stir where no actual shit exists.

The female's most effective attack on the larger male is to denigrate the male attribute she covets the most: his penis. By attaching frivolous relevance to that most envied object she attempts to deny the male at least one of his symbols of dominance. Creating such myths as ‘Men like guns because guns remind them of their penis’ is one such attempt to ridicule men's values, thus leveling the field. Women tend to think this is very effective although, in truth it is abhorrent—to say the least—for men to discharge, or even imagine discharging, large caliber weapons, especially those with substantial muzzle blasts, in even the general area of what women secretly consider a magnificent organ.

So, the bottom line is, the next time you take a date to your favorite biker bar, and she starts getting that glazed look on her face... you better get the hell outa there before she starts to stir.

Now that we have an idea of what we’re up against, let’s move on.

...BUT UNCLE JOHN, WHAT IF I'M GAY?

In the interest of accuracy, Uncle John asked a lot of gay people to help out with the subject of getting gay dates. They all said, "fuck off" ...except for one transvestite biker named Dede, who proved to be very knowledgeable on the subject. Uncle John couldn't find any lesbians who would cooperate, so you girls are on your own, which doesn't matter since Dede says that most women are a wee bit 'bi' anyway.

Dede says, the most important thing is to make sure you are actually gay before going out to look for dates. Dede says, being with another guy, in bed, naked, on your knees, is not a good time to look over your shoulder and say, "You know what? I don't think I'm gay after all." It's rude and extremely disappointing to the guy behind you.

Dede says the following can help you determine if you are really gay:

Do you like Quiche?

Do you wear a fanny pack?

Have you ever said the word, "Moi?"

Do you carry a bottle of water around with you?

Do you wear tank tops after dark?

Do you change your underwear every single day?

Do you honestly think a man and a woman can be "just friends?"

Do you drive a PT Cruiser?

Do you have a dog that requires professional grooming?

Do you put that blue-colored stuff in your toilet?

Do you sip alcoholic drinks from a straw?

Do you like Kenny G?

No shit, do you really like Kenny G?

Do you have a cowboy hat but no cow?

Do you pay 4 bucks for a friggin' cup of coffee at Starbucks?

Do you go around acting macho and calling people faggots, queers and screaming queens?

Dede says, if you answer "yes" to any 3 of the above, you're probably gay and are reasonably safe in pursuing your gayness.

Now that you have determined that you are actually gay—as opposed to just enjoying an occasional colonoscopy—you should move to Key West. Everybody there is gay, and finding dates is much simpler. However, even in Key West there are some places that are not good for finding gay dates, like Lamaze classes, monster truck rallies, etc. Incidentally, don't go rushing off to Holland... that "finger in the Dyke" story has absolutely nothing to do with the subject.

Actually, truth be told, there is no 'Dede, the transvestite biker' and Uncle John doesn't have a clue as to how to go about getting a gay date... unless... well, ...you might try hanging around the showers at the health club... but, good luck anyway.

P.S.

If you are gay and would, seriously, like to offer some, humorous but helpful dating advice to others (since Uncle John, being very wise in every other way, is a little untutored on this subject), email Uncle John at: good_old_uncle_john@askunclejohn.com

(it would be a real plus if your name happened to be "Dede the transvestite biker").

That's all you get. Buy the book at amazon:

 SNEAKY TRICKS for snagging dates and meeting people

Goodbye Lucifer by John Harold McCoy

Available at Amazon

Hell closes down when Lucifer falls in love, quits his job as the Prince of Darkness, and becomes a bartender in Ft. Lauderdale.

Deep in the rugged mountains of southern West Virginia, nestled in the cradle of an idyllic little valley, the tiny town of Brandell, and its colorful cast of quirky characters, hold an ancient secret.
Here, in this most unlikely of places, the women of Brandell Valley cook, clean, shop, gossip, dream, fall in love – and guard the gates of Hell. The tranquility of daily life in the valley is disrupted when Lucifer finds a way out of the depths. He simply quits his job as the devil, packs his bags, and heads for Florida. Pandemonium erupts in the valley when, without the devil to keep things in check, various demons find their way out of Hell and wander into Brandell. A rather likeable Lucifer, decidedly un-evil demons, sorcery gone awry, romance and hilarity are the theme of this heart-warming very tall tale.

                                        

WANT TO PERFORM ON A CRUISE SHIP?

Hey, here's a little tip for you. If you get sick on a boat, eat a can of stewed tomatoes…doesn’t help but it looks pretty in the water.

Anyway, so I get on the ship for an eight week gig...go to my cabin...put my stuff away...go back out on the deck - and everybody there, everybody on the whole ship...is naked...naked people everywhere...not pretty naked people -  flabby old naked people. Then I saw the sign...big banner. "Welcome to our annual nudist cruise." Somebody forgot to tell me that. I'd just bought a new suit. All those beautiful people you see in the picture on the internet didn't show up...the entire membership of AARP did...obviously from Miami ...not a foreskin in the bunch.

Eight weeks on a ship with 2000 naked retirees...things I never wanted to see flopping and bouncing...naked old ladies playing volleyball...that picture burnt in my brain!

...bunch of naked people in a cramped ships elevator...and every time it stops at a floor it does that little bounce, and flips things you don't notice when you're dressed. I started to punch the elevator button, and a guy in the back said, "ballroom"...so we all gave him a little more room. Ever occur to you that elevators smell different to midgets?

Anyway, the first few hours...kinda weird but you get over it. Got your mirrored sun sunglasses. Sit down with a group of people, get acquainted, have a cup of coffee. Oh, the ship moves, so hang on to that cup; don't wanna spill that shit on Mr. happy.

I sent my mother a picture…cut the bottom half off so she wouldn’t see I was naked. I think I sent the wrong half 'cause I got a letter back that said, "Change your hairstyle. That one makes your nose look too long."

If you ever go on a nudist cruise, here's a few little tips...like, humor is fine, but quickly rotating your hips, and with a little flip, pointing, "over there"...bad taste. When you're sitting around...and people are standing around...be careful where you yawn. And if you're a midget, don't go around sticking your nose in everybody's business. By the same token, if you're very tall, don't go around sticking your business in everybody's nose. Also, if you're standing, and someone is sitting behind you, don't turn suddenly. That can be a real slap in the face.

If you've been on a ship you'll know about this; the toilets on a ship are vacuum operated. There's a very powerful vacuum in all the pipes. Which means somewhere in the bottom of the ship is one big friggin' Hoover…and it’s connected to the toilet in your cabin. So there you are on your first cruise…you're in your cabin…you have to go to the bathroom, so you go in and sit down on the toilet. If you happen to be constipated...not to worry... first time you flush that thing it's gonna scare the crap right out of you - you’re like…damn…what’d I do? Did we hit an iceberg? You hear Celine Dion singing that song... When you go to the bathroom on a ship, do your business...then stand up...then flush it. Never flush that toilet while you’re sitting on it. If you flush that toilet while your sitting on it, it'll suck your tongue right out your ass...8 decks below...down into the bowels of the ship...and you're gonna spend the next hour trying to get it back where it belongs. It's a good thing they don't have bidets - you walk in the bathroom...find your wife splattered all over the ceiling.

The "bowels of the ship"... where'd that come from? Ships ain't got no bowels. If they had bowels I wouldn't go in 'em. You go in the bowels of the ship, the ship farts, and you're outa there...deep six...so long sucker.

In the evening you stand at the back of the ship looking out over the ocean at the sunset, the wake of the ship sparkling in last rays of sunlight...in the water, the glistening trail of... sewage. The law says it has to be dumped beyond the 3 mile limit...out where the fishermen go for the really fresh fish. Flotsam and jetsam. If you're not sure what flotsam and jetsam is - "jetsam" is just things they throw away...broken chair, toss it overboard. That’s jetsam. "Flotsam," on the other hand, is just what the word sounds like. Anytime you're around a cruise ship look down in the water. You'll see a flot or 2 floating around down there.

Anyway, if you ever see me playing on a ship, be sure and say, "Hello." (if you're naked, please don't offer to shake my hand)

EVOLUTION FOR KIDS

Once, a million years ago, there was a family of Putzes: a mother Putz, a father Putz and several little ones. Among the little ones was a male named Schlup, and although Putzes were generally uniform in shape and size, Schlup—as the result of an unfortunate gene mutation—looked just plain funny. All the other Putzes made fun of Schlup because, unlike a normal decent Putz with eyes located on the side of his head where they belonged, Schlup's eyes were a little more to the front of his face, and although normal in every other respect, you had to admit, for a Putz, Schlup was butt ugly.
Time went by and Schlup grew into a strong, healthy—albeit ugly—teenaged Putz, and was allowed to accompany the adults on the daily hunt for Squrds—which is what Putzes eat. When a group of Squrds were spotted, all the Putzes, including Schlup, rushed off to catch one. Squrds are delicious, though a bit bitter for my tastes. Now, a Squrd can run very fast and zigzags around, but if you're good at judging distances you can usually catch one, and that day almost everyone did, except Schlup, who caught two. All the other Putzes, worn out from trying to catch just one Squrd, were amazed that ugly Schlup was able to catch two—an unheard of feat. Although very handsome, Putzes are stupid, and could not be expected to figure out that, because of Schlup's eyes being located more to the front of his face thereby enhancing his depth perception, he was better able to judge the speed and distance between himself and the zigzagging Squrds, and from that day on while everyone else had to settle for one Squrd a day Schlup gorged himself on two, and as a result became stronger and healthier than all the other Putzes. He was still ugly, though.

Schlup's best friend had a sister named Betty who was really hot—great legs, eyes in the right place, etc. One day while everyone was sitting around picking fleas, Schlup became aware of an odd smell emanating from Betty that made him itch in a way he instinctively knew was not the result of flea bites. He also noticed the other males were similarly affected; they were sniffing around Betty and had begun fighting among themselves while Betty waited to see who won. Schlup, being stronger and healthier than the others, banged them all in the head and dragged Betty into some nearby bushes. Sometime later Betty gave birth to some little Schlups with weird eyes like their daddy, but also like their daddy, were able to catch more Squrds. When Schlup's children grew up they, in turn, had children with weird eyes, and so did their children and so on until the "Schlup and Betty" line of Putzes dominated the Squrd hunts, and the "normal" Putzes all died of hunger.

For many years life went on as usual for the new line of Putzes until one day, as the result of an another unfortunate gene mutation, a young Putz named Ralph—with slightly longer arms than usual and who was made fun of by the other Putzes—found that he could reach the juicy fruit on trees that, for others, was too high to reach, thus, supplementing his diet of Squrds and making him stronger and healthier than the other Putzes...and there was this hot girl named Martha...then there was an odd smell, sniffing, fighting, Ralph banging everybody on the head, into the bushes with Martha, etc. Eventually, the "Ralph and Martha" line of Putzes—with longer arms and weird eyes—replaced the Putzes that only had weird eyes. During the next thousands and thousands of years there were so many gene mutations—like longer legs, straighter backbones, tactile senses, not to mention hotter girls with better smells, then more sniffing and fighting ending with the mutant and the hot girl in the bushes—that the original stumpy, normal eyed, ground hugging, short legged Putzes, evolved into a magnificent, intelligent, successful species, later wiped out by man to make room for condominiums. This is how evolution works...well, at least for a Putz.

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EVERYBODY IS A POET

 

                                  

              My last wife complained that I never wrote her poetry.

                                             So, I did.

                            A POEM A DAY FOR THREE DAYS

                                                  

DAY ONE

A sonnet, song, poetic verse
I've promised that I would converse
About a subject unsurpassed
What other but your beauteous ass

To compare of course would be a start
But thinking, would that be so smart
For what would compare
To what is there
So sumptuously
Behind loves lair

Failing else compare I'll try
Like poets through the ages I
Will look for things up in the sky
For wondrous things are there
That may compare
To what you bare
Behind your lovely lair

A lunar reference might suffice
Though round and shines with inner light
It wanes, it's cold, there's no delight
Far, untouchable in the night
It's not as nice
And to be suggestive of my subject
Needs be seen twice as through unfocused eyes
An image of two sensuous orbs side by side
With a hint, a dark and secret path
Still not as nice or adorned with
Simple elegance
Of flesh as your enigmatic ass

Stars, nebulous and galaxies strewn
Across the sky
Like shards of twinkling broken glass
Have been used to describe things
Much less phenomenal
Than your delicate ass

So there's nothing I can find
To compare and bring to mind
That of which I speak alas
Your fine young supple Elysian ass


DAY TWO


You'll find upon further perusal
That this rhyme has no definite use all
Though if you've some time to expend
A smile may result in the end

I shall dedicate this little ditty
To a particularly cute little titty
Though pert in a shirt I'm sorry to say
At the beach it's decidedly gritty

At this point it may well behoove me
To explain why there's only one booby
In my narration there's no explanation
I just said it like that so sue me

It's certainly plain to me
Pleasurably plain to see
That there are two
Less wouldn't do
And you'd terribly unbalanced with three

Although of course you're aware
I'm enamored of your derriere
My delight at that end isn't more so
Than that I derive from your torso

Now I've revealed your attributes from end to end
Laid you graphically bare with my mighty pen
But one lingering mystery we've yet to explore
For that my pen rests as I pick up my sword


DAY THREE


At last this trilogy expended
The fore adored, the aft upended
Leaving but the hinterland
To speak of and appraise

The blossoms having been applauded
Pistils, petals, stems and all its
Splendor offered freely
In a quite poetic way

Would you believe that deep within that flower
Unsuspected lies a dowry
that's known to me
And possibly a few

A warm and secret place
Of hidden pleasures there awaits
The ones whose passions and desires
Bid them pass through

I my self have entered
Through the portals of the hinterland
I speak of and have lain secure
In fetal like repose

A hint of déjà vu
A haven, new but not so new
A salmon instinct like returning
To a place a man must go

Deep within the depths
With fragrant petals I'm caressed
Rewards of ecstasy surrounding
All I am

Let me now suggest
That in preceding poems I jest
Although believe me my appreciation stands
Of those things enjoyed aesthetically
But with this last soliloquy
I give appreciation
As a man

VISIT MY STATE

Miami Beach
- the jewel of South Florida - a thin strip of glitter and sand...the sounds and smells of the bustling city of Miami wafting across the bay...the soft chattering of far away Uzis...the musty smell of backyard marijuana plants...young people in sidewalk cafes smoking cigarettes that, ever now and then, go "pop!" On the beaches, old men with metal detectors looking for lost coins in the sand, and kids looking for hastily discarded packages in the water. From just over the horizon, the throaty roar of overloaded go-fast boats making a run for the river...tourist experiencing exciting Cuban cuisine and diarrhea.

Key West
- the colorful and exotic southernmost tip of America...a city of friendship...people walking hand-in-hand with other people their same height...a tropical vacation spot with diverse and confusing arrays of flora, fauna, gender...a city of unique people escaping from the normal ins and outs (so to speak).

Orlando
- center of the state - the throbbing heart of the Florida...home of Mickey, who likes kids a little but mostly likes pictures of dead presidents...nearby...Rollins College, a liberal arts school, where the "better" people send their kids to college (not those "other" people - you know the ones...). With a degree in liberal arts, from Rollins College, a graduate is qualified to say, "Is that for here, or to go?"

Ocala
- quiet and rural in nature...home of Silver Springs, mermaids and thousands of poor people whose job is to clean up the barns of the many rich horse breeders in the surrounding area. Located in the Ocala Natural Forest where there are mostly just trees, and where you should watch your step cause, yes, bears do.

The Great Everglades
- the Everglades National Park...home of the clever Indians that make paste out of semen...you've probably heard of the Seminal Indians...yet untamed and primitive - the only tribe that has never signed a treaty with the United States....a tribe that has historically rejected missionaries (who try to get the squaws to cover their bodies) cause the Indian braves like breasts.

Gainesville
- Home of Florida's largest Rave, the University of Florida and it's well known football team, the "Florida Gators" (originally, the "Florida Alligators," but many high school graduates had never heard the whole word so...)

Tallahassee
- Capitol of the state and center of power...Date Palms, Coconut Palms, Royal Palms and traditional home of the Outstretched Palm. A place of constant activity and excitement where the leaders of government determine the fate of their off-shore accounts. Site of Florida State University, located close to Alabama so kids from there can go to a college where townsfolk go...and it's premier football team, the Seminoles (taken from the clever Indians of the same name).

I'm a native Floridian.
We used to make fun of people from up north that came down to Ponce De Leon springs to buy water from the fountain of youth. Big joke in Florida...selling water to Yankees. Now, our water is so bad we have to buy water from up north. Big joke up north...selling water to Floridians...they probably piss in it before they send it down...I would. 

If you're from up north
Please don't feed our alligators. They're not very smart...they think food drops off of other food...and if you feed em...you're the other food. It makes them think ummmm, this piece was good, maybe he's tasty. That makes them curious about people...then we have to trap and kill them; otherwise, they'll eat you, your children, your dog and your cat. It's their nature to bite things that's why God didn't make them cuddly.

The big cats you see out in our woods are called Florida Panthers. Go ahead and pet em - they're cuddly (hehe).Endangered species, not many left...so the state (in it's dubious wisdom) decided to imported some bigger, stronger, meaner ones from Wyoming. I guess they figure we don't have enough dangerous animals in Florida, and we're gettin' too soft. We got enough bears, rabid racoons, alligators, wildcats hornets, snakes, sting rays, jelly fish, fire ants and

 sharks...but, apparently, we don't have enough vicious Panthers to chase us down and gut us...too damn many noisy kids running around back yards...Panthers'll fix that 

Our state is home to many thousands of beautiful young women. Please do not remove them. They're for the use of Native Floridians only. Florida is strictly BYOB...bring your own friggin' broad and leave ours alone. If it's necessary for you to take any of ours out of state, please return them in a timely manner. As in other states, each town you visit in Florida will offer a few older ones for general use...usually for a small fee. 

Hunting in Florida ... We have specific seasons for various game however you're allowed to keep anything you find dead in the road. Recipes are available on the internet

 at www.scrapeitupandeatit.com.

Fishing in Florida...gotta have night-crawlers to fish...big fat juicy ones...they come out and crawl at night and that's when you catch 'em. If you know where they are you can dig 'em out in the daytime, but they don't like that...they know what's going on. They're like, "Shit, you're going fishing, aren't you? ...stick a hook up my ass and dangle me from a cork...you sick bastard!"

 They're not stupid. They're  deaf, dumb, blind, and don't have a brain, but they pic up on vibes, and if you pull 'em out of the ground in the daytime they instinctively know they're screwed ...today is hook in the ass day. But you gotta have night crawlers. You can put 'em in your garden too. They make fertilizer. They eat dirt...dirt goes in one end...dirt comes out the other end...it's still dirt...but better dirt...worm dirt is better than plain dirt...it's organic fertilizer that doesn't actually taste like shit on your onions.

Swimming off our beaches. We have sharks. We don't have great whites...but we gotta lot of average whites...and they'll be happy to dine on you, so if you see a shark, get out of the water...common sense. This is another example of things that aren't cuddly. 

We have Sting rays. Sting rays aren't aggressive, but if you step on one it'll sting the hell out of you. They bury themselves in the sand, so if you shuffle your feet along the bottom then when you touch one, it'll get up and swim away...plus, it's a great way to find shiny pieces of broken glass. 

We have Jelly fish. Jellyfish stings are very painful. If you're in the water and a jellyfish wraps all around you, well, ...piss on it. Really, piss on it...that's what you do...at least that's the old accepted remedy. There's something in urine that helps...I think its piss. (FYI - this is an old "folk" type remedy. It is untrue and can cause infection). 

We have Barracudas. Unlike sharks, which grab you, pull you down and eat you, barracudas just take bites...not too bad...unless there's ten barracudas...then you're like a ear of corn. 

We have crabs. When your lying on the beach blue craps are standing around waiting for the sun to bake you to death saying, "Is he done yet?"

In other words, while your in our state remember God's Cuddly Rule! ...soft and furry, small teeth, big brown eyes, "YES"...long sharp teeth, claws, spines and tentacles, "NO." Welcome to Florida, enjoy your stay. 

THINGS I WANT TO GRIPE ABOUT

                       

What's with these people who like to run around naked at the beach. If God had wanted us to be naked then we would have been born na...uh...wait...let me think about this one a minute. 

Newspaper article I would like to see - "The man who was fatally shot yesterday by a shop owner while robbing a jewelry store has been identified by police as "just another asshole." Persons wanting to claim the body will find it in the ditch behind the mall." 

You told your kids that if they tried marijuana they would get hooked on it, and it would ruin their lives forever. You've just learned that they tried it anyway and didn't get hooked on it, and it didn't ruin their lives forever. In fact, they have a joint ever now then with no apparent ill effects. Now that they've seen how you lied to them about the dangers of marijuana, it's time to tell them about the perils of truly dangerous drugs. Good luck.

Lady, when I take you out...shoes or no shoes...keep your goddamn feet off my dashboard. 

Ever notice when somebody you know has an unconventional idea  -   it'll never work? 

Don't you hate it when a car full of kids drives by with the radio up so loud you can hear it from a hundred feet away? Don't those kids know that the noise you're gonna be subjected to for all of 5 to 10 seconds will damage you for life, ruin your whole day, and cause you to bitch, moan and complain for the next 10 minutes when a normal person would have merely smiled in memory of their own youth?

If you are recruited as a martyr, why aren't the people who recruited you martyrs? Is it because it's too dangerous? 

You're a 47-year-old man. While sitting at the bar you meet 2 women. One is 21, the other is 45. Both are knockouts, and both seem interested in you. The 21 year-old isn't very bright, so you spend your time talking to the 45-year-old who is very intelligent, fun, and with whom you have a lot in common. At closing time you politely say goodnight to the 45-year-old and take the 21-year-old home. Does anyone have any questions about this?

Are you a Christian? You are? What degree? I mean, if you're a Christian you live 100% according to the rules of the new testament, right? No credit cards, right? Oh, you have some? Wasn't there something about messing around with money lenders? Oops! Do you work on Sunday? Bummer. Divorced? Uh oh, down another notch. Had sex out of wedlock? Wow, where are we so far...about 60 percent Christian? Filched a few floppies from work, a pen or two? Had erotic thoughts about thy neighbor's wife? Let's see now, on a scale of 1 to 10 you're down to about a 3rd degree Christian. Maybe a little white lie now and then about why you were late for work? Are you sure you're a Christian? You know, with all that in mind, sometimes I get really tired of people who say, "I'm a Christian," making moral rules for me...unless maybe they're 10th degree Christians...but I've never met one of those. Why can't I buy booze on Sunday? 

You took her out to dinner. In casual conversation she made it clear to you that she wanted to be "just friends."  So when the bill came you told her how much her half was...right? 

Incidentally, I'm looking for a good religion. Does anybody know which, of all those "One True God"-s, has the least number of rules? 

None of my business, not judging, not knocking it, just honestly curious. Why would a gay man, who is attracted to other "men" - not attracted to women at all - have a boyfriend who thinks and acts like a girl? 

Occasionally, someone will say to me, "You're wrong," in which case I reply, "You're stupid," and walk away. Why?... because just like the person who said, "you're wrong," my ideas and opinions are conclusions based on information with which I have been provide by others, or information I have gathered myself from what I thought were valid sources.  On the other hand, if someone says to me, "I disagree," or, "I Have a different opinion," I think to myself...'Perhaps this person has information about the subject that I don't have - or maybe I misinterpreted my information - or maybe my information needs reviewing.' Anyway, I stop and listen. Maybe I will get new information, or a clarification of my own. Perhaps this person has discovered a new perspective in viewing the subject. In any case, whatever the reason this person has for disagreeing with me, I will probably come away from the discussion knowing more than I did before...although I still might not agree with them. The person who simply says, "You're wrong," and proceeds to tell me how "right" they are, has no interest in comparing information or discussing the subject intelligently, is stubborn and a bore...so I reply, "You're stupid" and walk away. 

Actual email I received: "I find your website more offensive ever time I go there."  

Modern society. Today you gotta be up to date...in the mainstream. Gotta do networking...be proactive...employ intuitive solutions - and see how much of this kind of new-age, techno babble, crap-speak you can cram into a conversation over a latte at Starbucks.  

....taxes for local, state and federal beautification projects, national parks, support for the arts, symphonies, etc...gives people who can't afford health insurance something nice to look at while they rot. While we're at it, instead of taking care of our own let's spend some more tax money on bringing poor, underprivileged, third world people to America for transplants and operations unavailable in their countries - and unavailable to uninsured Americans. Oh, and let's not forget all those American doctors, nurses, etc. that a million uninsured, minimum wage, sick Americans can't afford, who donate their services, money and medical supplies to other countries for people whose governments would rather build palaces than provide for their people. 

Don't you just love businesses that cater to people who work from 8 to 5 - five days a week - and are only open from 8 to 5 - five days a week?

I may be wrong but it's my understanding that the Arab world harbors a great deal of animosity towards the Jewish people. Why? I don't care! I also understand that, generally, women are not held in great esteem by some Arabs when it comes to business or politics. Why? I don't care! Anyway, it would seem to me that, given the world situation lately, we should be extremely careful, always erring on the side of caution and being acutely aware of sensitivities when interacting with any of the Arab countries. A few years ago, we sent two people to deal with them, Cohen and Albright .... a Jewish guy and a woman... both highly qualified and deserving of the utmost respect but... am I missing something here?

Is there somebody you hate?... like members of a race or religion, somebody with a different sexual orientation or nationality, somebody different from you in some way?... Just think... if you spent more time studying and less time hating, then maybe someday you could get your GED.
 

Taking medication without reading the directions... I'm guilty of that myself. You buy suppositories... you don't read the directions... you figure you know how to use em -  that's why I buy the little ones... they're easier to swallow. You'd think they'd put a coating on em... looks like something you'd shove up your ass.
 

Reality TV. ... small group of people on a deserted island must survive alone. Picture yourself finding your own food, fishing, hunting, building your own shelter, surviving sickness, living primitive, etc...all this while trying to stay out of the way of the production company staff...camera operators, lighting engineers, sound engineers, makeup artists, directors, other film specialists, insurance reps, staff food preparers, company nurses, freight handlers, visiting VIPs, sponsors reps, secretaries, chemical toilets, staff housing, staff and equipment transport... 

Kids are getting fatter. Well, time to put some more coke and snack machines in schools. I wish we had coke and snack machines when I was in school. We asked for them but they said it would make us fat.  

You have come up a with plan to restructure the department, in which you work, that will substantially increase your company's profits. You submitted the plan to your supervisor and he submitted it to management. Management implemented the plan and it worked so well that your supervisor got promoted to manager. If you have any more good ideas, make sure you submit them to your new supervisor.

Same sex marriage... should 2 people of the same sex be allowed to marry? - That is, should people walk down the aisle with other people their same height?... easy question, easy answer... if you're gay. But to most people, marriage is traditionally a union between 2 people... sharing 1 penis. You've heard the expression, "never the twain shall meet." That's why people get nervous when the bride and the groom both have a twain. The logical concern is "benefits abuse" but, what the hell, straight women invented "marriage for profit" thousands of years ago.  (personally, I don't give a damn one way or the other)

I played a lot of clubs in Cocoa Beach, Florida. You learn what's happening in a town when you play the clubs. I had a friend who was a cop. One day, I asked him why, since everybody in that small town knew who all the drug dealers were and where to find them every night, they didn't just start at one end of the beach some night and go from club to club arresting all the dealers. That would be the end of the drug problem in Cocoa Beach. Wanna hear the answer?... swear to god... he said they weren't allowed to do that cause prosecuting them would be too expensive. Since then, I don't give out much sympathy when I hear communities whining about their drug problem.

The "Golden Years"... approaching my golden years... that means, I get to drive down the road at 20 miles an hour while you're behind me yelling "go die you friggin old fart". I guess they call them golden years... as opposed to the crappy years when you're young and healthy, feel good all the time and get laid once in a while... yeah, those are crappy... these are golden... screw golden... I want more crappy. Incidentally, when you start gettin old, maybe it's time to stop wearing tank tops at the salad bar... some people might not wanna throw up. Next time you see me frolicking around on the beach with my gut hanging over a skimpy little bathing suit... do everybody a favor... tell me to go put some friggin clothes on... don't throw me the Frisbee.
 

I never played country music... not because I didn't like it (I don't) but because there are zillions of powerful country players out there that play it a hell of a lot better than I do... lots of great players... not enough country music jobs... the result of that is to make it a buyers market so it never paid as well as some other types of music. So, what's my gripe?... country music lovers who come into my club and find out I don't play it then say, "Man, you don't know no good music."... yeah, right... that makes sense. Now, not all country music lovers do that, of course... but why is it that only country music lovers do it? 

If you're a 60 year old man, who works a low paying job, be assured that young women see you as just some wrinkled old fart - until you win the lottery... then you're an experienced, intelligent, sensitive, mature gentleman. 

My all time favorite bitch - If you don't know how to program your VCR  -  It came with a book... read it! If you don't know how to operate the cable box on top of your TV, or the remote - they came with instructions, read em! If you can't figure out how to set your alarm clock... jeez! If you can't use a program on your computer, and refuse to read the help files, then you have no business messing with it. When somebody tells me they're having trouble doing something, then I'm glad to help -  but when they're not even trying to learn, unless it's something I can do that the average person would normally need help with... screw em! What they're saying is, "Would you take your valuable time to learn how to do something for me that I don't want to waste my valuable time learning how to do for myself!" 

Heard this years ago - My favorite story - not because it's funny - I just like the idea: The judge said to the defendant, "You're charged with shooting a man dead. Why did you kill him?" The defendant answered, "Well, Judge, he was an asshole and just needed kill'in." To which the Judge replied, "Why didn't you say so in the first place ... case dismissed."

If you had a black friend, a Jewish friend, a Mexican friend, an Indian friend and so on, imagine all the really funny jokes you could play on a blind bigot.

Hard Rock - Jeez, come on guys... same old crap for 30 years... no new imagination, no innovation... same sounds, same looks, same words... the only thing that's changed is the technology. If you record today's rock on yesterdays technology, guess what?... it would sound the same as 30 year old rock... All we're doing today is screaming louder and cussing more, but we're whackin off the same old licks. E-V-O-L-U-T-I-O-N.....where is it? 

The most unbelievable, incredible, self-righteous, ego-centric, self-important, shockingly, stunningly and ultimately stupid thing I have ever heard of - a "man" who, in his wildest imaginings, thinks his opinions on abortion are even remotely valid. 

There's a sign on the Statue Of Liberty that says, "Give me your tired your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" It welcomed my forefathers to this country and, unless yours came across the Bering Straights, it welcomed yours too. It is representative of my country and as long as it's there I'm standing right beside it with my arms wide open saying, "Welcome .... as long as you're not trying to sneak in... come on in ... you'll be safe here ....you'll be free here ... and we're sincerely glad to have you. Incidentally, when you get here, you will learn my language, respect my government, pay your own way, follow the same rules that I do, and not criticize or discriminate against any of the other races or religions here ... or ... I'll do my best to kick your sorry ass back to where you came from."  

The next time you hear a telephone company, power company, insurance company, whatever, telling you that if they are allowed to raise their rates your bills will be smaller...please call me so I can explain the absurdity of that statement.
 

We need to raise the taxes on cigarettes high enough so that poor people, who smoke, will have less money left over for food. Hey, if they don't have enough willpower to quit smoking then they're inferior people anyway... isn't that right, asshole?

Business has gotten cold and impersonal.... yesterday you were an valued employee... today you're a resource... one of the human ones... chances are, you're a temporary resource, with no benefits and can't use the bathroom... tomorrow you'll be a disposable resource... you're a tampon. 

The average legislator knows the needs of the average American. He ensures this by carefully observing the needs and behavior of the average Americans he comes in contact with... like the people who live around him in his exclusive gated community, the people he meets at expensive fund raising events, other high paid government officials and employees, the leaders of the business community, lobbyist, etc. By observing these average people and analyzing their way of life he is able to determine that the average American has an income of 80 zillion dollars a year. This information allows him to make decisions as to what's best for the average American. Of course, he is vaguely aware that there may be some people who make less than 80 zillion dollars a year but, since he never sees them, there must not be many... they'll get by.  

Some years ago I played in a town in Michigan for a few months. The city fathers had decided to put a Caulder Sculpture in front of the courthouse (a Caulder is a monstrously expensive pile of scrap metal welded together and spray painted red) and so they did. I couldn't help but notice that immediately behind the courthouse was a very poor neighborhood, streets and services badly in need of attention, non-existent employment rate, crime rampant and so on. I remember wondering if the people in that neighborhood were asked if it was all right to spend their tax money on a Caulder.
 

Let me make sure I've got this straight. I can start a church, right?... I'll call it... I don't know... Gods R Us or something. Now, this church doesn't have to pay taxes, right? So, my church can buy a business, make huge profits and I can keep the money and not have to pay tax on it just like all the other churches, right?... Oh yeah, I almost forgot... and I don't get prosecuted for molesting kids if I promise not to do it again... right?

My church is going to be all about peace and love and good will towards men so it will be located out in the desert where it's peaceful. Now, everyone knows that there are snakes and stuff in the desert so, like other religions located out in the desert or up in the mountains of Idaho, we will need a large cache of fully automatic assault weapons, ground to air shoulder launched missiles, oh, and maybe some grenades. My only worry is that the government has caused a lot of trouble for other religions that kept a gun or two around to protect themselves ....like that poor Koresh guy, for instance. Jeez, makes you think that the government doesn't care if snakes bite people. 

When I was a kid, I would teach my little sister to say dirty words... the first thing my mother taught her to say was, "Where is this relationship going?"

Speaking of guns ...guns don't kill people, assholes kill people. I think, if we shot all the assholes, guns would be safe.

At last - we made those tobacco companies pay. How much did you get? 

Using sophisticated imaging technology, the military can determine the sex of a flea on a rat hiding in a hole from a satellite in space. Other satellites can direct a missile from a ship at sea a thousand miles across two countries and into the hole killing the flea without disturbing the rat. Of course, this is very expensive. It is much more economical to send an America soldier to a hostile land and let him risk his life doing it in person because, apparently, the government figures that the "going rate" on American boys isn't that much.
 

"Ok, you grunts. You're in the army now. What's that?... you wanna beer?... Hell no!... you're too damn young to buy a beer in this country?... What?... you wanna vote?... didn't you hear what I just said?... now get out there and die for your country." 

I keep forgetting to read that sign on the ATM that says, "Deposits made after 2:00 PM will not be posted until after you've written a check we can bounce and charge you $30 for." 

Miami is overrun with Cubans. Nothing but Cubans everywhere you look. Cubans all over the place...they've taken over Miami...starting to look like Cuba... That's cool as hell. You can go to a city, right here in America, and be immersed in authentic Cuban culture, language, ideas, people, food, entertainment...(course, I'm probably not too popular with Anglo Miamians for saying that...haha). 

Let me get this straight. He's 30 years old, in excellent health, been out of work and homeless for over a year because he doesn't want to take a low paying job - and he's collecting money from the taxes paid by a guy who supports a family on minimum wage.

Having trouble getting girls?... Can't imagine why?... I mean, you do all the cool guy things... right?... chew tobacco, etc... 

Some schools require children to study Latin. It's impossible to live in this country without knowing Latin. If a child learns nothing else in school, Latin will ensure their successful future. Just think back over today... could you have survived the day without your knowledge of Latin? See, all those miserable hours of studying Latin instead of something even remotely usable really paid off, didn't they.

This morning a civic leader said to himself, "Today, I'm going to do something for the good of the people, and for which I will receive no personal gain." This is a fairy tale, of course.

Gambling and prostitution is wrong, immoral, sinful, and illegal... except places where it's taxed.

Bad news for us old guys. When you hear a beautiful 18 year-old girl say she likes older men... she means older like 20.

What if all armies in the world required that soldiers bring in a permission slip from their moms before they were allowed to do anything hazardous?
 

Sports on TV are fine but ABC takes the cake. On Sat or Sun I would not be surprised to hear, "Stay tuned to ABC for news coverage of the ongoing nuclear attack on New York City right after the Oshkosh, Wisconsin city wide junior boys championship horseshoe preliminaries post game show."

Bad driving decisions kill what, many thousands of people a year? Ok, she's 16, licensed by the state to operate a highly dangerous 3 ton SUV capable of high speeds and great destruction... she's racing down the street, in and out of traffic and around pedestrians, cell phone in one hand, cigarette in the other... if you're a 17 year old boy and you have sex with her, you're going to jail... why?... cause, legally, she is not mature enough to make important decisions. 

When he turned 40, he bought a red sports car... recapturing his youth?... no, he always wanted one and could finally afford one... that simple. When he turned 40, he left his wife and ran off with a 21 year-old... recapturing his youth?... no, his wife got fat and sloppy and the 21 year-old looked so damned good... that simple. Hey gals, stop making up those crap excuses for why we do the things we do... fact is, we just plain like sports cars and it's our nature to dream about beautiful 21 year-old girls... sorry. 

All this talk lately about how Muslims are suppose to kill everybody who doesn't believe... blah, blah, blah... I decided I'd better check to make sure our good old Christian bible doesn't say anything terrible like that... Uh oh!... Sure enough... it does... good old God says were supposed to kill anybody that tries to tell us about another religion (to my horror, I found that Deuteronomy is full of it, some in Romans and Exodus)... damn, I thought we were the good guys... ain't there no nice gods out there?
 

She's at a nude beach. If you look at her she gets all huffy...what?
  

I love monkeys... rabbits... all little animals... thing is, they use them in medical research... how can they torture those poor animals like that? Of course, they have excuses... like, developing cures for diseases that have caused heartache, pain, suffering and death for billions of people throughout history and will continue to do so without research using live animals.  Well, I say, pain and suffering and death are good for us... save the poor little animals. 

If your children respect you, they will be good. Yeah, right! I was a good kid and my parents were good parents. I wasn't a good kid cause I respected my parents... I was a good kid cause if I did something wrong I'd think, "Oh my god, my dads gonna kill me."... course he never did... although looking back, I bet it crossed his mind every now and then... My point?... respect is good, but fear of death or mutilation works better.
 

He's 27 years old. He has a good job that doesn't take a lot of his time and he makes really good money. He's a healthy, very good looking guy that women find attractive. He dates lots of beautiful women and is extremely happy with his life. Of course, if you ask any woman, she'll tell you what's really going on there... he's afraid of commitment. 

My grandfather's, grandfather's, wife was a Blackfoot Indian. Can I open a casino?... No?... didn't think so. Speaking of Indians, just about every single civilization on earth has been totally conquered (most, much more brutally than the Indians) by somebody at some time in history. What happens to them?... they're absorbed into the conqueror's culture and way of life, receive equal benefits and stop whining after a hundred years, or so. (they rarely get casinos)  

I'm tired of hearing women bitch about the losers they meet/marry - Hey girls/women, check this out... if you lie with dogs, ya get fleas. You're gonna marry somebody you meet at the places you go... so, it's simple... don't go where losers go... hang with winners and you'll meet and marry a winner... if you hang with losers you'll marry one... it ain't rocket science (actually, same goes for guys). 
 

There's this word - "illegal" - which I understand to mean, well, illegal. If something is illegal you can't do it. Excuse me, but what's the deal with government benefits for illegal immigrants? I don't like it when somebody walks in my house, uninvited, and says, "I'm here, take care of me."  

Movie... guy tells the girl to stay in the car while he goes in the warehouse after the bad guys... we know what happens then... dumb bitch don't stay in the car... bad guys catch her, like he knew they would if she didn't stay in the car, and he gets shot trying to save her... Why don't they ever show the part where he beats the shit out of her for getting out of the car. 

Hate me yet?... think I'm an asshole?... think my opinions are dumb?... think I'm stupid and should just shut up? Well, that's Ok. This wasn't written for you. It was written for people who read opinions, think about them seriously, then agree or disagree with them. People who listen to opinions and think the originator is an asshole, dumb, stupid and should just shut up - are assholes who are dumb, stupid and should just shut up...at least that's my opinion. 

Lao Tsu was rich... wealthy family... ruling class, in the government and all that. Now, with that in mind, read Tao again. Looks to me like it's about keeping the poor poor and the rich rich. 

Wanna try something fascinating? - Great school project - Videotape a 30-minute conversation between two average adult male strangers. Then, gather a group of people together and, very carefully, analyze the tape using the following criteria. You are watching a tape of two wild wolves encountering each other in the forest. This is what you are watching and listening for in words and body language: warnings, subtle statements or demonstrations of physical prowess, implied declarations of territory, aggressive/submissive behavior, impending representational attack/retreat, vying for dominance, etc. In civilized conversation, these two strangers are going to (figuratively, but seriously) piss on territory, growl warnings, show strength, establish mating rights and develop a dominant/sub-dominant relationship.  Listen to every word and watch every movement very, very carefully. Now, using your new perspective, go re-read your Darwin. 

Values! .... Its important for people to have values. I know what the important values are and I have them. If you don't have these values, that I know are important, and that I have, then you don't have the right values...right?
 

Ok, boot up your computer, when the Windows Desktop appears, open MSWord and knock of that letter to Aunt Gertrude. Now open Outlook Express and check your email. When you've finished those chores, click Internet Explorer and go online with MSN. Pop into your favorite chat room and bitch about Bill Gates and Microsoft. .... ("Ah ha," you say, "I'm not using MSN. So there!") 

97% of the world runs PCs (fact) ... most schools teach children computers using Macs. I hope whoever came up with that isn't teaching Logic.
  

Look at that bunch of kids. What a mess. Look at those clothes... jeez!... and listen to them talk... are they actually trying to sound dumb?... and these are the kids that are going to grow up to run the world?... Yep, that's right... and they're about 10 times smarter than we were when we were kids. What?... you don't think we looked stupid at that age? (I can hear you now, "No, no, I didn't act weird when I was a kid."... yeah, right)

Please stop shouting into your cell phone...and take it out of your mouth...I can't understand you.

Young people are great. Old people are great. Young people can look good. Old people can look good. Young people can be sexy. Old people are not sexy... Just turned 50?... button your shirt... you look stupid. 

Florida - my state... people move here and bitch... too hot, mosquitoes, low paying jobs, nothing to do - well, we got a bus going north every hour on the hour. 

Always have your 5 year old answer the phone, I got all friggin' day to waste.

There's these little kids... oh, about yea high... cute little things. They live in a poor orphanage in an underprivileged section of Chicago. Explain to them why you went all the way to Africa to adopt a kid. 

If one more person bitches about my spelling...

New to computing? Here's a few tips.

HOW TO USE YOUR PC - (requires opposable thumbs

PC means "Personal Computer - there are other computers called Macs for snotty people)  

Getting Ready To Compute

You have:                          
.
A Computer - big metal box with an on/off switch on it somewhere
 .
A Monitor - looks like a TV
A Keyboard - looks like an anemic typewriter
A Mouse - doesn't look like a mouse
 .

Of the 4 things in the above list, notice that only one of them is a computer (the big box). The other stuff isn't. If you point to the monitor and say, "That's my computer," people will say, "Wow, what a dummy." You might also have a printer, scanner and other stuff. Put them away somewhere and ask somebody else how to use them later.

If everything isn't all plugged together, then plug it all together. Everything plugs into the computer (except the power cords which plug into the wall--before plugging the power cords into the wall, be sure to stick your finger in the socket to see if there is any electricity in there). Each plug is designed to easily fit only where it's supposed to go, so don't cram anything.

When you get everything plugged up, turn the computer on by poking the button in front (Some have switches you flip, but most of them you just poke). If it doesn't come on, poke it harder. It will start "Booting Up." That just means it will get ready to be used. You will know that it's finished booting up when it stops doing stuff and just sits there with nothing blinking.

Some computers, when turned on, automatically turn on the monitor...some don't, so if your monitor doesn't come on then you have to find the monitor's on/off button and poke it, too. If it still doesn't come on then you probably broke it. Try poking it with a screwdriver.

At this point (assuming everything worked) your computer is ready to use. Microsoft Windows is displayed on the monitor. "Windows" is an "Operating System" (OS). There are other Operating Systems, but they don't work. The name, "Windows," is derived from the name they gave it which was Windows. It allows common people to use pictures to operate a computer. When you learn what the pictures mean you can do practically anything on your computer. Now you should stop and rest a while. Have a banana or something.

After you finish your banana, look at the screen. You should see some little pictures on it. They are called "icons" (not like the church ones). Utilize the icons in the following manner: notice when you move your mouse around on the mouse pad (see my tutorial - "Setting up the  Mouse Pad"), a little arrow moves around on the screen. Place the little arrow on one of the icons and jab at the left mouse button twice with your finger. Whatever that icon is supposed to make happen will happen unless it's screwed up, or you do it wrong.  
Example: If you want to go on the internet, and are new to computers, you probably have AOL, and there will be an icon on your screen that looks like a little hand crushing a computer (or a little picture of Satan, depending on the version). If you don't see either one just click on the swastika and the AOL sign-in screen will open. In the AOL sign-in screen, enter your User ID, Password, Social Security Number, all your credit card numbers and family history, then put a check mark it the little box beside the statement: "Yes, I relinquish my soul to AOL." Usually, you don't have to do anything else cause AOL now owns your computer and will direct you to the ads they want you to see. If you would like to actually use the internet yourself, freely, without subscribing to AOL's quest for world domination, then simply subscribe to a different internet service provider (ISP). DSL (digital subscribers line), or Cable is strongly recommended.

An excellent tool in Windows (and all other programs) is a little known file called a "Help" file. I have never heard of anyone actually using a Help file, but trust me, when you have a problem, or don't know how to do something, after you have asked everyone you know about it, called tech support, bought books on the subject, posted the problem on numerous forums, emailed me with a dumb question, beat on your computer with a hammer, given up in disgust, then click "Help" - read the solution right there in plain site - then say, "Well, shit."

There are lots of other things you can do with your computer, but they are very complicated, and you won't understand them, plus there's a lot of things us advanced users just don't want you to know, so just stick with the internet. So there you are. Now you know how to use your new computer. You deserve another banana.

Have you ever wondered...

Do politically correct children play Cowpersons and Native Americans?

 

A question most of us choose to ignore, and rightly so. Who cares. A much more pressing issue, at least to us men, is when will mini-skirts return to fashion? But this attitude objectifies women, you say. Yes; it does. Sue me.

When I was a boy, and mini-skirts were all the rage, I was much enamored of the girl next door. Since I had only recently reached the age of puberty, I would imagine her prancing around in her oh-so-short mini-skirt, and...well, I digress. Let's move on.

While we're into questions, there's something I've always been curious about. Does anyone know those other ways to skin a cat? I've heard reference to them all my life, but not a single example. Just thought I'd ask. Use the comment box, below.

Before we get into anymore critical issues, I'd like to throw in a plug for my latest book. The first chapter is below. Skip it if you want.