The Horse Pucky Award of the Month

The Horse Pucky Award of the Month goes to the New York State Thruway Authority. I don't know where to begin here, so I'll go back to when I was 11 years old. In 1954 sections of highway were built to make traveling safer and quicker. It was, and still is, called the New York State Thruway. There are various tollbooths at each exit on I-90, depending on where you are going, and at each strategically placed exit is a place where you pay money.

Back in the 50's the highway system was supposed to take five years to pay for itself using the tolls imposed on motorists. HA! I'm not sure where the toll money went, probably to the Manhattan Madam, but we are still paying, and with much higher toll charges. What used to cost me $.05 from here to the next toll exit now costs me $.35 with and extra $.10 added if I pull a horse trailer.

To add injury to insult, they are now calling toll booths...travel plazas. No kidding! Like that's supposed to make you feel better after increasing toll charges 700% (I stink at math, so I'm not sure this is 100% correct). As far as I'm concerned, NYS can take their travel plazas and stick them where the sun don't shine.  

Four Days After Christmas and All Through the House

Bear with Christmas Present

While I was washing the breakfast dishes this morning, it sounded like a herd of elephants upstairs, in the bedroom. Turns out it was Bear, chasing his Christmas present. Believe me, he's no Fred Astaire.

I tip-toed up the stairs with my trusty digital camera and got this shot of "twinkle toes" playing with his catnip mouse. There was shredded tissue paper all over the place; along with a Picasso print, on an art easel, that he toppled over.

Along with this photo, I decided to write a little kitty ditty for the occassion. Here goes:

Four days after Christmas,

and all through the house
scampers a sleek black cat

after a red catnip mouse.

As his scimitar claws

hook that little red "rody,
Bear chews off its eyes
and its little black "nosy

Mouse parts and tissue shreds

are all over the place,

while Don Quixote

lies flat on his face.

Bear had fun, but he

sure made a mess.

It's time to vacuum

'til next Christmas.

I know, I know, I'm no poet and I really do vacuum more than once a year, but you get my drift.

Merry Christmas Everyone!



Merry Christmas from Pam & Bear



Being politically correct this time of year is a lot of horse pucky. December 25th is a religious holiday which I have always celebrated and will continue to celebrate. MERRY CHRISTMAS to all of you wonderful people out there in blog land and beyond. 

Hanukkah was December 1 (sundown) through December 2nd.; Kwanzaa is December 26th - January 1st; and I have no idea when Ramadan is because I stink at math and don't know how to follow the Islamic calendar. For my Jewish pals, African American brothers and sisters, and all my Muslim friends, HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I know you understand.

For the rest of you who think I'm politically incorrect or totally tacky, HAPPY RAMA-LAMA-DING-DONG to all and to all a good night. Oh yeah, watch out for horse pucky in your stocking, on your doorstep, or tied to the door handle of your vehicle. 

The Little Pink Book with the Big Green Pickle

Jon and I were in Barnes & Noble over the weekend to purchase books for our grandchildren. I could live in B & N because I love to read. They also have great coffee, and some pretty good eats. Jon, on the other hand, would rather watch his car rust than read a book, so I went off on my own to shop, leaving Jon to do his own thing. 

As I was making my rounds through the store to find the perfect book for each of the young'uns, Jon came around the corner and said, "Ps-s-s-t, come here a minute. I think I found a book you can get me for Christmas." As I walked toward him, I looked up toward the bookshelf and saw a little pink book. "Oh no!", I said.. "I knew it!" He was looking at a book titled Tickle Your Pickle. I told him, "There is no way I'm buying that book for you for Christmas!"

With my luck I'd get it mixed up with the gift wrapped books we bought for our grandchildren.

Stinkerbell

Chili is one of my favorite foods this time of year. Give me a steamy, spicy, bowl of chili with home made corn bread, especially when the weather hits below 32 degrees, and I'm a happy camper.

I made some really great chili a couple of nights ago. Jon and I both enjoyed a heaping bowlful along with cornbread and warm butter. It was so nice to be in a steamy kitchen watching the snow swirl around outside. It was a 16 degree night, so we decided to wrap up in warm blankets, after our chili dinner, and find a movie on tv.

As we snuggled down to watch an oldy but goody flick, there were some serious tummy rumblings going on. Those growling sounds gradually escalated to other...ahem...sounds. I won't go any further for fear of TMI, but my new nickname is Stinkerbell.

Love, Grace, Dignity, and Betrayal

When I found out about Elizabeth Edwards' death yesterday, I was beseiged with three basic emotions. I felt sad, angry, and glad to be a woman. I just couldn't shake those feelings. They were all mixed up together. Part of it is because it brought back poignant memories of my husband Tom's courageous battle with cancer.

The other part is the sisterhood connection we have with one another. That woman to woman thing. The need to protect our own gender when we are in pain or are wronged in some way.

Elizabeth will always be remembered as a woman of great strength and fierce loyalty, as she bravely went on to campaign with her husband knowing she had breast cancer. Such grace and dignity! It must have been physically exhausting for her. Yet, she stood by his side; always there for him. And what did he do? We all know the answer to that question. That's why I'm angry.

I send my condolences to Mr. Edwards for the loss of a beautiful wife. I will also send him a bag of horse pucky for his ultimate betrayal.

Frozen Horse Pucky

Br-r-r-r! It's 24 degrees right now. It was even colder this morning...with loads of snow! When I arrived at the barn this morning the horse pucky was frozen. My next thought was, 'What could I do with frozen horse pucky?' Instead of shoveling it into the wheelbarrow then dumping it as I usually do, I decided to turn my usual stall cleaning routine into a game.

I placed one of the empty water buckets far enough down the barn aisle, oh, about 50 feet or so, and figured it'd be fun to see how many horse turds I could actually get into the bucket. I was pretty accurate, until I accidently hit Judy in the head, as she was coming out of one of the stalls, with one of those rock-like projectiles. She was a real good sport about the whole thing.

I have a sneaky suspicion she'll be getting even with me tomorrow. The temperature is supposed to drop to seventeen degrees.

Fa-La-La-La-La,La-La,La OOPS!

Christmas carols were playing, there was a dusting of snow on the small patch of green grass in front of my townhouse, and Jon and I were putting up holiday decorations. Sounds lovely, huh?

The two wreaths, one on the front door and one on the back door, were a piece of cake to put up because we just used wreath hangers. Things got tricky when we started to hang the remaining two wreaths on the upstairs bedroom windows. 

First we removed the screens. We discovered wreath hangers don't fit over the bedroom windows. The next thing I did was grab my handy tackle box with the fishing line in it because fishing line is very strong  for hanging wreaths and it's invisible.

After a few attempts, Jon placed the first wreath exactly where I wanted it. Then I discovered it was about 3/4 of an inch off center. He moved it willingly. After about 35 tries, he wasn't so willing any more. In fact I was very leary standing in front of the open window.  

Fa-la-la-la-la turned into that other "F" word that is not exactly Christmas carol friendly. After several frustrating attempts, we finally found success, looked at one another and burst out laughing. The townhouse looks festive, the wreaths are only 1/16 of an inch off center, and we're in the process of writing a new Christmas carol.

Hospital Food

Last week was pretty scary. I ended up in the emergency room with severe abdominal pain and chest pressure. Everyone thought I was having a heart attack. Turns out it was major heartburn. The medical cardio team decided to keep me overnight for observation...just in case.

By 8:00 the following morning I was famished because I wasn't allowed to eat anything except a couple of graham crackers. Fifteen hours with little nourishment, except water, I figured even hospital food would taste good. I was really looking forward to a healthy, tasty breakfast.

At 8:15 a.m. a very sweet young lady brought me a tray with a covered dish, some tropical fruit in a plastic cup, coffee, milk, and fake butter. Oh yeah, and simulated maple syrup which oozed out of the container rather than poured, like real maple syrup. The fruit looked good. It was colorful with perfect squares of pineapple, watermelon, and I'm not sure what else. My first clue of what I was in for were the perfect squares of fruit. Fruit doesn't grow in perfect squares. 

I tried gently piercing one of the fruit squares, and ended up having to repeatledy stab each square multiple times before I could get the fruit on my fork. I thought, 'This is ridiculous!' So I used my fingers. The fruit was so tough and tasteless, I couldn't eat it.

My next attempt for sustenance, was to lift the green plastic cover off the plate on my tray. I discovered two soggy pancakes I could have used as paper weights. Next to the pancakes was a remote resemblance to a sausage patty. It was unlike any sausage patty I've ever seen in my whole life. In fact, in could have been the remote, except it was the size of a flattend golf ball, complete with dimples, with hues of gray. The first thing I did was sniff the patty. It sorta smelled like a sausage patty. The next thing I did was take a small bite. It sure didn't taste like a sausage patty. I think I know what happened to the golf balls I hit out of bounds this summer. And they call this a heart-healthy breakfast?

Over an 18 hour period of time I had two graham crackers, two bites of a soggy pancake and a carton of milk. I was getting a little cranky. At this point in time, the medical team decided to discharge me, which was very smart on their part.

On the way home from the hospital I remembered my mother's words: "Be sure to wear clean underwear every day, and be sure everything matches, because you never know when you have to go to the hospital." She never said to pack a bag lunch.

Usually In Trouble

When I was three, I remember a Steinway baby grand piano in the living room my mother used to play. It was a beautiful piano. This is where the trouble started.

Mom's first mistake was leaving me beside her, on the floor, with nothing to do. I toddled off and found my favorite, cuddly rag doll with the yellow yarn hair. I also found a box of wooden matches. The next thing I knew, I was in big trouble. Busy three year old girls, yellow-yarn-hair rag dolls, wooden matches, and baby grand pianos don't mix. I lit the doll's hair on fire, felt the heat, and managed to toss the hot, flaming-haired doll into the upright baby grand. I remember this well. My butt still hurts from the spanking I got.

It was the first of many spankings. I was usually in trouble due to my curious, adventuresome spirit. OR because I was in  the wrong place at the wrong time. OR because I got caught.

Tip of the Day

Horse Pucky tip of the day: When you're in Key West, don't drop the soap. Or at least don't bend over to pick it up.

Church Bulletin Bloopers

After church I always pick up the parish bulletin to see what's going on in our community. The wonderful ladies in our church, who put the bulletin together, are usually very accurate in their reporting and keyboarding, but every once in a while they make typographical boo-boos and/or grammatical errors. 

Here are a few bloopers that made me laugh:

1. Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of the things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.

2. The sermon this morning, 'Jesus Walks on Water'. The sermon this evening, 'Searching for Jesus'.

3. A bean supper will be held Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow.

4. Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.

5. Potluck supper this Sunday at 5:30 pm. Prayer and medication to follow.

6. This evening at 7:00 pm there will be a hymn singing at the park across from the church. Bring your blankets and come prepared to sin.

7. The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the Parish would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday.

8. The associate pastor has a new fund raising slogan: 'I upped my campaign pledge, so up yours.'

Again, anyone who writes anything, be sure to PROOFREAD!

The Horse Pucky Party

At last! A memorable gubernatorial debate right here in upstate New York! And on local television too! There are seven political parties represented for the job of New York State Governor.

The first two parties are all too familiar. After listening to their usual same-old-do-nothing-no-ideas rhetoric, I mentally tuned out all but three candidates. Those three were very intriguing and are starred below.

1. Democratic Party: Andrew Cuomo, with his running mate, our ever-popular, Rochester Mayor, Bob Duffy. A well-oiled political machine. A little too slick for my taste.

2. Republican Party: Carl Paladino.Don't know who his running mate is. In fact, I never even heard of Paladino before this election. After hearing Paladino in the debate, his running mate would be smart to keep running...all the way to some foreign border town, perhaps Canada. Sorry, lightly.

*3. Anti-Prohibition Party: Kirsten Davis, the Manhattan Madam. I really like her. She's smart!

4. Freedom Party: Charlie Barron. Wasn't impressed at all.

5. Green Party: Howie Hawkins. I think he's had a bit too much green tea. He may even wear green underwear.

*6. Libertarian Party: Warren Redlich...This guy had some good ideas.

And, last but not least...

*7. Rent-Is-Too-Damn-High Party: Jimmy McMillan. He's for the "little guy" who's struggling to pay rent in New York City 'cause "The rent is too damn high!"

I like what Kristen Davis has to say. She wants more charter schools. Me too. She wants to legalize marijuana and prostitution. Me too. During the debate, she stayed on track when a question was asked, answering with confidence, without a lot of horse pucky. My favorite statement from her is, "Politicians are the worst prostitutes in the state. I may be the only person sitting on this stage able to deal with them."  I say, "AMEN!"

Warren Redlich wants to get rid of unnecessary committees that cost taxpayers beaucoup bucks. There's a transportation commitee with three guys, who meet three times a month with no accountability, each making an annual salary of $100,000 = $300,000. Redlich said, "Jimmy, Howie, and I would charge a total of $300, a six-pack of beer, and a pizza, 'cause that's all the committee is worth...if that much"

Next gubernatorial election, I'm going to start The Horse Pucky Party and run for Governor of New York State. My motto: If you really care about this state...don't hesitate...vote for someone who can sling it better than anybody. Whaddaya' think folks? Do I get your vote?     

The Good Old Days Weren't So Groovy

For those of us, (especially you women) who think the "good old days" were better, take a peek at these:

Yipes!!! These make me want to gag before I go on a wild rampage. I hope all you young whipper snappers

out there appreciate what us old timers did to eradicate female oppression. I'm still workin' on it.

And that ain't no horse pucky!

The Buffalo Pansies

Bring Jim Kelly back...as an owner! The current owner of the Buffalo Bills, Ralph Wilson will be 92 on October 17th. It shows.

At least, management finally let Trent Edwards go. Thank goodness. Trent throws like a girl. (Sorry ladies.)  On a bad day, I can throw a football farther and faster than Trent and I'm old enough to be his grandmother.

It has been rumored that our neighbors across the big pond will be picking The Bills up for $2.98 plus tax. Get your passports ready, guys. Canada is waiting.

Maybe I should take over the Buffalo Bills. We'll call the team, The Buffalo Pansies or maybe they should be called The Buffalo Pansies now. Or...maybe we should just donate them to Canada. Whaddya think?

10:10 on 10:10

My lovely daughter, Teri, and my handsome future son-in-law, Mark,  are getting married in Key West, Florida on October 10, 2010 at 10:10 in the morning, with the festivities ending at 10:10 at night.

Key West

There's a Friday night bash on the 8th at the Rusty Anchor with close friends and family. Owners of the Hemingway House are letting Teri and Mark use the famous historic landmark for the rehearsal dinner Saturday night. Then...ta-da...next day is the big event!

The Sunday wedding will be on the beach, following a morning reception at the KW Yacht Club 'til 4:00 p.m. From 4:00 to 10:10 p.m. there'll  be a Key West pig roast at Durty Harry's bar complex. (Yes, "Durty" is spelled correctly.) To top off the celebration, right at 10:10 p.m., a  fireworks display will light up Mallory Square and part of Cuba. 

I'm planning on partying hearty next week. One of two things are going to happen. I'll probably need an ambulance when the week is over or I'll get arrested...or both.  Wish you could all be there.

Paraprosdokian

Every once in a while people try to stump me with a word. A former teaching colleague sent me the word, paraprosdokian. And I was stumped!

The word paraprosdokian isn't in the compact Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary I have sitting on my desk. It's probably in the 50 pound, 20,000 page dictionary I have on the bookshelf, in the basement. Rather than schlepping that 50 pound monster up two flights of stairs, I decided to do an internet search for the word.

Paraprosdokian means: A figure of speech that uses an unexpected ending to a phrase or sentence. According to Wikipedia, it's a Greek word meaning beyond expectation. It's frequently used by humorists, satirists, and comedians for both affect and effect.

Here are some paraprosdokian examples:

1. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak. (How true!)

2. If I agreed with you we'd both be wrong. (A great one-liner to throw at your spouse, soulmate, significant other, then watch the sparks fly!)

3. Dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish. (If the truth be known, our pets really train us. In most instances, it's a good idea. )

4. I saw a woman wearing a sweat shirt with "Guess" on it...so I said "Implants?" (Sounds like something one of you guys would ask.)

Wish I could take credit for the four paraprosdokians listed here, but I can't, and I have no way of finding out where these came from. My question to all of you: Have any of you ever heard of  paraprosdokian?

Beam Me Up!

I really can't believe it! Ex-madam, Kristin Davis is going to run for governor of New York State. She's being supported by GOP, Roger Stone, a former Nixon, Reagan, Bush, operative and he's totally serious about getting the Manhattan Madam on the ballot.

In order to start the ball rolling, 15,0000 signatures are needed to get Kristin on the ballot. Stone's plan is to hire four penthouse "pets" properly attired, make them notaries, then have them collect signatures at Grand Central Station during rush hour. It's brilliant, I tell ya!

Kristin is pretty cagey when it comes to money matters. Her platform will be to legalize prostitution and marijuana which will close New York State's $2.5 billion budget gap. Another outstanding idea!

The truth of the matter is...it may just work. In case you are wondering...Kristin's picture is below.

Personally, I think there'll be a lot of guys moving to New York State in the not-too-distant-future. Especially if she's elected Governor.

The New Unexpurgated Version of Snow White

My Horse Pucky pals continue to give me literary food for thought, spiced up with magnitudes of wacky inspiration. Their posts are great! Because of their clever witticisms and sense of the absurd, I'm going to present a premise for a new unexpurgated version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs that will rival Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm. Thanks for the inspiration y'all.

Instead of the wicked Queen, who is really Snow White's stepmother, we'll have GRAMBO, the meanest grandmother this side of the Canadian Border. Grambo's seven dwarf pals will be NUTS, SURLY, SHIFTY, CANTANKEROUS, GLOOMY, LAZY, and POINTLESS.

 I'm not sure where I'm going to take this just yet, but I think a political parody using these characters as pivotal points for truth, justice, and the American way will be a good start. We can even use horse pucky as a weapon of choice. This can also extend into Canada. I mean, gee whiz, we can even go Gobal with this. Wow! I'm gettin' really excited here. So, whaddya'll think? Are all of you wild and wacky Horse Pucky pals in?

Grumpy and Happy

One of my favorite animated Disney flicks is Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I decided the reason why is because the story, with all it's unique characters, is really a portrayal of the human condition.

Snow White and Prince Charming are the epitome of goodness, the seven dwarfs are a representation of all of the personality traits I can portray in a single day, and the Wicked Queen is a totally self centered battleaxe who is just plain mean and nasty. In psychology it's called the Id, Ego, and Super Ego.

There are days when I am the Wicked Queen. My Id kicks into gear, and I feel like putting horse pucky on everyone's doorstep within a 10 mile radius. Then there are days when my Super Ego shines through. Those are the days when I weed the neighbors gardens, share whatever I've baked, and spread good cheer. But, most days I'm a combination of the seven dwarfs.

Today I'm both Happy and Grumpy. Happy because I spent a creative morning with my 18 year old granddaughter, Ivey; Grumpy because some orange-haired lady tried to cut me off on a two lane road that merged into one lane. I would have given her the one finger salute, but Ivey was in the car with me.

Who are you today? Snow White, Prince Charming, the Wicked Queen, or a combination of the Seven Dwarfs? I don't know about you, but I need to work on getting better at being Snow White by working on my Super Ego.

Put a Little Sole Into Your Wine

Have you ever bought a really nice bottle of wine, got it home, and couldn't locate a corkscrew? I have. The next option is to call 911 for an emergency corkscrew delivery. Of course, the dispatch person is not too thrilled to get these kinds of calls.

There's a softer, gentler way to open a bottle of wine without the use of a corkscrew. It's a super idea that will thrill all you emergency dispatch personnel, who are sick and tired of me calling you at all hours of the night because I misplaced my wine-bottle-opening-devices.

Use your shoe. That's right, use your shoe to open a bottle of wine. Rather than try to explain how, I'll give you the URL and you can watch the video someone sent me. My friends don't worry about me anymore. http://www.wimp.com/wineshoe/

Old Coot Status

Now that I'm between 65 and 70, I've been wondering when I officially become an old coot. I decided to do some serious observing along with some really deep thinking. As a result of my in-depth vigilance and intelligent contemplation, I concluded that the next ten items are what is necessary in order to achieve old coot status.

1. Hair that grows everywhere but on top of your head.
2. Excessive burping, belching, and general passing of gas...in public.
3. Claims of being 39 when your're really 70.
4. Cussing at thoughtless drivers and then tailgating them for at least two miles.
5. Saying, "This service really sucks!!!", at a five star restaurant so everyone, including people eating on the patio, can hear you loud and clear.
6. Making jokes at a funeral.
7. Repeating yourself for hours to make a point.
8. Talking about the good old days even when the "good old days" weren't that great.
9. Always thinking your way is the best way.
10. Telling everyone who doesn't agree you, they are full of horse pucky.

I hate to admit it, but I'm privileged to say, I'm almost an old coot; not entirely, but I'm working on it.

A Female Perspective on the Male Point of View

Why is it men's eye glaze over when women want to go somewhere culturally stimulating...like the art gallery?

Then there's the audible groan heard 'round the world when a healthy but tasty meal is suggested. This isn't a water and yogurt meal; it's a meal suggestion consisting of grilled chicken, fresh green beans, and a nice salad with fresh-from-the-garden cukes, tomatoes, onions and assorted greens with a nice raspberry sorbet for dessert.

Generally, men would rather watch a blood and guts hockey game, preferably with someone getting their teeth knocked out, followed by, or included with, a pork hot dog with everything on it, greasy french fries and a cold, but soon to be warm, beer. The thought of blood, loose teeth, hot dogs, and warm beer makes my stomach want to do flip flops.

My favorite is the innocent, but thoughtless remark. "If you lose weight, I'll buy you a nice dress for the wedding in two months. Not that you're fat or anything, but you'd look really HOT if you lost about ten pounds. Or maybe not. You're really beautiful just the way you are. Actually, you're really beautiful." Of course, by this time, it's too late to save the male end of this conversation.

There you have it. Men really are from Mars. I'm not too sure where women are from. We're just different.

Do Nothing or Just Do It

It's no great surprise that the Republicans are on a campaign to oust the Democrats. The GOP mantra is "Do Nothing" and the Dems will fail on their own. I thought that's what the Republicans have been doing for the last 12 years...nothing. That's why the U.S. National Debt, as of July, 19, 2010 is $13,255,628,453,762.72! That's trillions and change folks!

If it were up to me, I'd put Mike Parker, NIKE CEO in charge of this country. NIKE's tag line is "Just Do It". It's a positive mindset rather than a negative one. Which is probably why their annual revenue is a profitable $19.2 billion.

There you have it. Would you rather have our "do nothing" government with their bad attitude and negative mindset, that generates debt in the trillions of dollars, or the "Just Do It" mentality of people who give a damn and get the job done? I know who I'd rather have running our country.

Ribbit

Once upon a time, according to folk lore, an attractive female could kiss a frog and he would turn into a handsome prince. Not anymore.

A study was done at the University of California, Berkley, in March of this year, and it was discovered that frogs starting life as male tadpoles were changed into females by an estrogen-like pollutant similar to estrogen, called astrazine. Now, there's a twist to the an old fairy tale! No more handsome prince. Instead we're getting amphibious princesses.

Astrazine is one of many chemicals used in pest control. I'm talking about insect pests, not man pests, for those of you who are wondering. You've got to admit, it's kinda scary. Before you know it, the whole world will be comprised of (e-gads) nothing but girls.

Be careful all you guys out there. With all the pesticides used today, you never know when a gender change may occur. One day you'll be walking down the street with your XY chromosomes intact, the next day...POOF you're a girl!

Hot Weather, Spiders, and Bear

If you look carefully you'll see Bear peeking out from behind the overgrown dish garden on my dresser. He's a mighty hunter.

Most days you'll find him outdside catching mice, weasels, rabbits, birds, and squirrels. Not today. It's 96 degrees in the shade.

Bear decided to stay inside where the air conditioner is cranking out a comfortable 75 degrees. By being inside, his choice of carnivorous tidbits is limited to spiders, an occassional fly that made the mistake of meandering in for some cool air, and a couple of pesky ants I thought were kaput for the summer.

My feline pal is not getting enough outside time. How do I know? He tried attacking my feet while I was writing today. He did some gnawing on the house plants. He even shredded some papers I had on the floor to file. To put it bluntly, he's a wild man. Bear's in "time out" right now so I can compose this blog post. Time out for him means lounging on top of the bed with a handful of treats. So, don't feel too sorry for him.

After Bear cleans up all the spiders, I don't know what I'm going to do. I hope it cools off soon.

More Horse Pucky

Just for the fun of it, I decided to check my spam folder. I found a good one. It's a different take, on a familiar scam. This also goes along with yesterdays blog on gravestones.

It seems that I've won $40,000,000 U.S. dollars from International Monetary Funds (IMF) in Nigeria. The only problem is, it's been four months since I responded, so they are sending the money to my next of kin, Mr. Kennedy Franklin, who told the IMF that I "died in a car accident last four months back." The IMF is requesting an immediate response from me to make sure I'm still alive. Of course, they are asking for all sorts of personal info. The email was sent from Mr. Ademola Johnson, IMF. What bunch of horse pucky!

Happy trails!

Gravestones and the Ten Commandments

There comes a time in a persons life when s/he has to deal with the unpleasantries, but also the necessities of death such as ordering a gravestone for a deceased loved one. It gets even more complicated when you've been married more than once or are comtemplating getting married again. I was thinking, 'Who gets buried with whom?'

Then there are other matters to consider. Gravestones or headstones come in all sizes, shapes, colors, and prices. You can be somewhat creative in the wording that goes on a headstone, but not too "wordy". So, I got to thinking some more.

'You can't exactly write the first amendment on the headstone of a journalist.' In fact, if you etch too many words in stone, you'd need a four foot high by three foot wide monument stone. Using those dimensions, it would cost about $30,000 for the stone and at least another $20,000 for the copywriting service. I could start a whole new sideline. Then I got to thinking again.

I thought about Moses and the Ten Commandments. Too bad God couldn't have come up with something less cumbersome than stone. What did Moses do when he had to write bar mitzvah invitations? Those stone tablets can get pretty heavy. The cost of postage must've been outrageous.

I'm done thinking about gravestones. I always think about the Ten Commandments because they keep me out of trouble. Except for one thing. I may be in a peck of trouble for doubting God, because I wonder why God didn't come up with something like papyrus instead of stone for Moses. He probably did. He decided, in His Godly Wisdom, to see if the Egyptians and the Hebrews could pool their God-given talent and figure it out for themselves.

It's now the 21st century and they can't even figure out how to live in peace. That should give us all something to think about.

The Washington Weasels

The Washington Weasels is NOT a sports team. It's not even a team at all. It's a group of loosy goosy government bureaucrats whose main purpose in life is to see how much money than can extract from the people who voted them into office in the first place.

On the other hand, The Washington Weasels could be a great name for a baseball team. Our commander-in chief could be the pitcher, while our VP could be catcher. Instead of throwing and catching a baseball, they could continue throwing and catching horse pucky.

General McChrystal is perfect as centerfielder. That's what he does in Afghanistan. The poor man has been in battle so long, he thinks he's part of the Afghan culture, coupled with having loose lips.

Since 1862 our taxes continue to rise. It doesn't matter who's been in office or what Party our U.S. President has been affiliated with. They are all dependent on taxpayers for whatever ails them, our country, or other countries.

Do you realize, in 2010 our individual local, state, and federal taxes will be more than food, clothing, and shelter!? I'm really happy I know someone who drives a sixteen wheeler. He'll be happy to dump a 100 tons of horse pucky on the steps of the White House.

Horsie Delights

Horsie Delights started out as a joke.

My good friend, Carla and I were having lunch together. I met Carla 20 years ago when I was a manufacturers rep and she was a purchasing agent at one of my accounts. We've been close friends ever since. She always said I could sell anything. Between bites of sandwiches and sips of iced tea, she bet me I could sell horse pucky. I said, "Your'e on!" (Horse poop chat during lunch is only reserved for close friends.)

Together we came up with the name Horsie Delights, along with the packaging design, marketing ideas, and our unique patented dehydrating process.

Through three months of time, testing, and research (and equal amounts of laughter), we found the perfect 100% organic plant food. I use it on all my plants, both inside and outside. The blossoms on all my plants are huge and the foliage is lush green. My plants are not bothered by insects, mold, mildew, or fungus.

As I mentioned before, Horsie Delights started out as a joke. They were first introduced at a craft show four years ago. People started buying horse pucky gift bags as gag gifts for bachelor parties, wedding showers, anniversaries, bosses day, or any situation where someone needs a good rib. Currently there are a couple of garden stores in the area who carry them, both for organic as well as whimsical reasons.

Horsie Delights is a lot of fun. There's always a creative way to earn a few bucks. The point is: You can sell anything if it's marketed well, including horse shit.

Sex Pills

I gotta tell you, if I get one more email pushing sex pills, I'm gonna SCREAM! The emails are telling me I can get the pills at an 80% discount from somewhere in East Slobvia. Don't people have anything better to do than send out those stupid emails?! It's probably Dick Cheney who's doing it.

Next time, and it'll probably be tomorrow because I get those blasted emails every day, I'm going to reply with an interesting return email. I may even call Andy Rooney.

My next action plan will be to send the sex pill perpetrator a bag of horse pucky.

Look Alike Contest

Sloppy Joe's 30th annual Papa Look-Alike Contest takes place in Key West, Florida on July 22 - 24, 2010. For those of you who have a striking resemblance to Ernest Hemingway, I strongly suggest going down there for a rousing good time and some great publicity. Sloppy Joe's was Ernie's favorite hangout when he was between wives and novels.

It's big business for doctors during the end of July. Think about it. Observing more than 100 Ernest Hemingways running around Duvall Street in Key West is enough to send most people to some sort of doctor. I'd probably opt for the Ophthalmologist.

For those interested in preserving the memory of Ernest Hemingway, having a rip roaring good time, enjoying the social camaraderie of Key West, and possibly winning a look alike contest, check out Sloppy Joe's website for further details.

www.sloppyjoes.com/lookalikes.htm

Horse Pucky Award of the Week: RG&E

The Horse Pucky Award of the Week goes to the Rochester Gas and Electric Company, unaffectionately referred to as RG&E. That's how I make out my checks each month; payable to RG&E. Over the years I think my gas and electricity usage has added up to a bazillion dollars and change. But, that's not the reason for this blog post. There's another more sinister reason.

RG&E is actually trying to collect $149 from my friend, Jennifer's deceased father, who died on April 9th of this year. They actually sent him to collections knowing he is among the dearly departed. Can you imagine! That puts a whole new meaning into low down, tacky, and just plain greedy. It's difficult enough when you lose someone you love without having to put up with that kind of horse pucky.

Jennifer called me today because I'm known as the pit bull. When it comes to justice and rights in this uncompassionate system we have to deal with, I'll fight to the end. The long and short of it is, RG&E will be getting a call from our state attorney general's office. Companies don't like that. They have to fill out 65 pages of paper work, in addition to a $3,000 to $5,000 fine if they're found in violation of ethics. It'll cost the weenies more than $149.

I was going to send them a bag of horse pucky, but I think I'll save it for the person who made a mistake on my bill last month. I was overcharged $120, but not for long.

A Kink In His Dink

"Focus on safety like a laser," says Tony Hayward, CEO of British Petroleum. Yeah, right! Safety??? I think he has a kink in his dink.

Good luck trying to stop an oil leak of this magnitude! It's like trying to put a nozzle on the end of a garden hose when you have the water turned on full blast.

As far as the garden hose is concerned, there's a solution. This is what I do. First, I kink the hose with my left hand to stop the water. Next, I continue to hold the kinked hose with the last three fingers on my left hand while steadying it with my thumb and forefinger. At the same time, I put the nozzle on the hose using all five fingers on my right hand. If you've followed this so far, it's really an engineering fete accompliss.

For those of you who need your dink unkinked or your hose kinked, promise me you won't call BP. I'm sure they'll have no clue what you're talking about. On second thought you can call BP Houston; 281.366.2000 and ask for Dick Cheney.

There's definitely some serious "kinking" or "unkinking" that needs to be done, pdq, in order to save our planet. Meanwhile, Tony Howard and his crew of mud engineers along with Dick Cheney, will be getting a bag of horse pucky this week. Hopefully they'll know what to do with it.

Clothing Optional

We're back! It was a fun and interesting south Florida adventure. We have lots of funny stories. Key West and points north are conducive to funny stories.

Scenario: Mom's place in West Palm Beach after our trip to Key West.
Cast of characters: Jon (my sweetie), John (my son), Mom (age 91), and me.
Discussion: The conversation started out discussing sea food which gradually deteriorated from there.

Mom: So, how was Key West?
Me: 88 degrees with 92% humidity.
Jon: Did you know there's a "clothing optional" bar in Key West?
Mom: Sounds like it could be a nudy bar.
Me: Mother!
Jon: Yeah! You got it! It's a nude bar for patrons.
John: Do they serve crabs? chuckle chuckle
Mom: Definitely not the kind of crabs I'd want.
Me: I wonder if you have to check your clothes at the door?
Jon: You'd have to start a tab.
Me: I have an idea! We could start a family business. Let's design a bar stool with a specially designed paper towel roll. You could drape clean paper towels over the seats to keep things sanitary. Just rip off the used paper towel when you leave and roll up a clean one.
Everyone: Good idea.

And we were'nt even drinking. And the conversation turned into something a little more refined.

Mom: So, how's the horse pucky business?

The Miracle Swimsuit

Jon and I are leaving on a ten day vacation to West Palm Beach, Boynton Beach, and Key West to visit my family and celebrate my mother's 91st birthday. The biggest problem in dealing with this trip is the fact that I need a new bathing suit. The one I currenly have is about 15 years old. The good news is: It still fits. The bad news is: It still fits because it has stretched along with my various body parts.

To make a long story short, I went shopping for a bathing suit over the weekend. Mistake number one was taking Jon with me. We were going through the rack of new, one-piece bathing suits at TJ Max. Jon came across a suit with a tag that read, "Miracle Suit. Lose 10 pounds in 10 seconds." He innocently said, "Here you go honey, go try this one on." I gave him the one finger salute and told him I was going to wear my stretched out bathing suit with a tee shirt over the top. His comment was, "Oops!"

Mistake number two was trying on various styles of suits. I realize there are many I just can't wear anymore. I tried on one of those ladies racing Speedos I used to wear in high school, when I was on the swim team, 50 years ago. Pouches of beyond-middle-age flab scooshed out between the racing straps in the back. I told my daughter about it and she said, "Hey, Mom, just think, you've got a built-in flotation device."

The whole experience was like trying to stuff 10 pounds of horse pucky into a five pound bag. On top of it all, it happened on Mother's Day. After hearing my bathing suit story, everyone had a good laugh at my expense, including me. I rode the horses Sunday, had an elegant meal cooked by my very thoughtful son-in-law, got lots of hugs from my grandchildren, and decided that the Miracle Suit should be on Fibomercials and Scams.

In closing, I think this 67 year old body needs more than a miracle.

The Tooth Fairy and Bear

Yesterday was very traumatic for me. Bear went to the vet to have an infected tooth extracted. Dr. Bratton also cleaned the rest of his teeth and gave the boy a flouride treatment. The tough part was leaving my feline pal with the vet tech at 8:15 a.m. knowing I wouldn't be able to pick him up until 4:00 p.m. The actual surgery began at 9:00 a.m. It took all that time for the anesthesia to wear off before he could be released. While Bear was in la-la land, I was home worrying and teary-eyed.

Today Bear is doing well. He got his morning dose of pain meds, which will continue until the beginning of next week. The poor little guy had the inside of his hind leg shaved to accommodate the "gas line" they had to put in during surgery. He's a bit off, but much better than yesterday. In fact, yesterday he walked like he had one too many martinis. Today, he's much better, but a little groggy from the pain meds.

After what I was charged for the surgery, I forgot to get Bear's tooth; probably because I was in shock over  the cost. I could've put his tooth under my pillow for the tooth fairy. It's worth at least $317.

On the other hand, Bear would have probably eaten the tooth fairy in the middle of the night. Then I'd get a bag of horse pucky from her replacement instead of cash.

All things work out for the best. Bear's eating well, and having fun pouncing on shadows. I think he ate something flying around the office today. It may have been the tooth fairy.

Parakeet Resusitation

It takes all kinds to make the world a better place, or maybe just a few folks who are a bit off center.

I love animals. Actually, I love anything that walks, crawls, flies, or slithers, except rattlesnakes, which I'm convinced I could train to become a wonderful household pet or possibly a dreaded terrorist bodyguard. Anyway, I took Bear to the vet today for his annual feline wellness exam, rabies shot, and three year distemper booster. The vet said, "If you think you love all God's creatures, wait until you hear this one!"

One of Dr. Bratton's clients brought her parakeet in for a check up. It was a beautiful bright green and yellow male parakeet named Cranston. She had Cranston for six years and even taught him to say a few words. Unfortunately, he wasn't talking the day she was scheduled to bring him to the vet. In fact he wasn't doing much of anything except just laying around. She thought all Cranston needed was to be resuscitated. When she brought him in to see the doctor, her poor little feathered friend was deader than a door nail. In fact he had been in birdie heaven for quite some time.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So I did a little of both. Cranston was buried under the weeping cherry tree in her yard with a full funeral service. And that ain't no horse pucky.

Over Under Debate

It appears that it's a toss-up as to how toilet paper rolls should be hung. Some say, if you hang the roll so it is dispensed from the bottom it's more difficult for cats to unravel. Another reader suggests using a GPS system to figure out the direction, and the most practical suggestion is to be sure you don't run out of toilet paper in the first place.

Are you ready for the real reason on how to dispense t.p.? According to the manufacturers of toilet paper, the rolls should be set up so they dispense from over the top of the roll. Why? So the quilted portion of the roll (which usually has the manufacturers logo on it) is visibile on the top side of the paper. So, there you have it. Right from the manufacturers mouths. And that ain't no horse pucky.

I can hardly wait for the smart alec comments I get on this one.

Have You Heard About This?

A good friend of mine sent me an interesting email. The content explained how to get rid of flies, wasps, and unwanted things that fly and go bump in the night or day or afternoon. My friend received it from a horse enthusiast such as myself, and she, in turn, received it from an Amish person who is an authority on the subject of natural fly deterrents.

Here's the idea: Take a ziplock bag, fill it half full with water and put three pennies in it, then zip it shut. Next tack it to an area where you have experienced an abundance of fly infestation. For some reason, the flies take off for other parts.

Ann Says: I tried the ziplock bag and pennies this weekend. I have a horse trailer. The flies were bad while I was camping. I put the baggie with pennies above the door of the LQ. NOT ONE FLY came in the trailer. The horse trailer park had many. Not sure why it works but it does!

Danielle Martin Says: Fill a ziplock bag with water and 5 or 6 pennies and hang it in the problem area. In my case it was a particular window in my home. It had a slight passage way for insects. Ever since I have done that, it has kept flies and wasps away. Some say that wasps and flies mistake the bag for some other insect nest and are threatened.

Maggie Says: I swear by the plastic bag of water trick. I have them on porch and basement. We saw these in Northeast Mo. at an Amish grocery store & have used them since. They say it works because a fly sees a reflection & won't come around.

DJ Says: Regarding the science behind zip log bags of water? My research found that the millions of molecules of water presents its own prism effect and given that flies have a lot of eyes, to them it's like a zillion disco balls reflecting light, colors and movement in a dizzying manner. When you figure that flies are prey for many other bugs, animals, birds, etc., they simply won't take the risk of being around that much perceived action. I moved to a rural area and thought these "hillbillies" were just yanking my city boy chain but I tried it and it worked immediately! We went from hundreds of flies to seeing the occasional one, but he didn't hang around long.

I'm going to try this. No more costly fly sprays. No more inhaling fly spray fumes this summer. No more pesky flies that bite the horses. The equines will love it. Unless, of course, this whole thing is a lot of horse pucky (which is the problem in the first place).

Toilet Paper Direction: Over or Under?

The Browncroft Family Restaurant is a great place for breakfast meetings. It has good food, is reasonably priced, and has super service. It has also become my makeshift office, away from my real office, where I meet with folks who actually pay me for my writing. Bribing them with breakfast usually helps.

Another perk: BFR is close to my home office (which is actually the second floor bedroom in my townhouse, which I also share with Bear, my cat). But I digress. The real story here is toilet paper rolls and how they unroll. Personally, I like my toilet paper rolls to dispense from over the top of the roll of toilet paper. I was totally flummoxed to discover, after entering the restroom, that the BFR's toilet paper rolled from underneath the roll. Being a creature of habit, and just turning 67, I was confused for the rest of the day.

The question is how do you place your toilet paper on the spool in your bathrooms? Does it pull out from over the top or underneath the roll? This is a very important question which may have some scientific merit. Who cares if the national debt is in the trillions, or they haven't discovered a cure for the common cold, or (heaven forbid) people stop using horse pucky in their gardens. Toilet paper roll direction is a very important issue that needs to be addressed.

Let's settle the debate, is it over or under? Leave your preference in the comments and I'll post an answer within the week.

Jack the Ripper

On the way out to the barn last night, it was so foggy, I could barely see 10 feet in front of me. It was really eerie. I got to thinking about Jack the Ripper. Before I got to the barn I was sure he was lurking somewhere in the woods by the side of the road, next to the creek. When I got to my destination, I was happy to see lights on in the barn and my favorite people.

Someone (whose name will go unmentioned for fear of being embarrassed) told me this morning, over breakfast, that Jack the Ripper was buried in Mt. Hope Cemetary in Rochester, NY. I told him he was full of horse pucky. But, he insisted his story was true. So, I looked it up and found other famous people buried there, but not "Jack".

Susan B. Anthony, the champion of equal rights for women, and Frederick Douglas, renowned leader of the anti-slavery movement are two of many notables buried at Mt. Hope Cemetary, but not Jack the Ripper.

The only thing, I can think of is maybe JtR came to Rochester for a much needed vacation after murdering all those women in the Whitechapel district of London. Susan B. Anthony found him and beat him over the head, repeatedly, with her hefty handbag until he crumpled into a pile of pithy pulp. After all, it would serve him right.

Frederick Douglas hired some friends to help bury "Jack's" body. No notoriety, just a quiet way to take care of women's rights, no matter what the woman's profession of choice.

Caution!

Jon and I were out shopping for some hearty flowering plants for my window box and garden today. Currently the weather is 75 degrees, which is why I have planteritis. This is no April Fool's joke. It really is 75 degrees in upstate NY today! Anyway, the beautiful, sunny day motivated us to go get flowers.

While we were driving along the expressway a septic cleaning service truck passed us with a sign posted on the back of the truck. The sign read Caution! Stool Bus. Being a former school teacher, I thought it was hilarious.

I was also thinking, 'when I go horse back riding I can where a t-shirt with words on the back that say Horse Pucky Manufacturer'. There's only one hitch, some people may think it refers to me; the three people who read this blog, my mother (who never reads this blog), and my children (who sometimes read this blog) all know I'm full of horse pucky. The t-shirt would work in either case.

Boogie Woggie

Dancing is one of my favorite things to do. Nothing too formal, just movement that is great exercise. I've been told I'm a pretty good dancer until I saw this video. It puts a smile on your face. http://www.flixxy.com/dancing-the-boogie-woogie.htm

It's fantastic dancing by world champion Boogie-Woogie dancers William and Maeva, with pianist Silvan Zingg at the International Boogie-Woogie Festival in Lugano, Switzerland.

I couldn't move that fast if I had an Afghani terrorist with an AK-47 40 shooting at me, and a flame thrower aimed at my soles.

Of course, the dancers could be trying get horse pucky off the bottom of their feet.

Money Pit

Owning a home is like throwing money into a deep dark hole. I call it the money pit. There's always some sort of repair work to do either inside or outside the house. The worst case scenario is when something breaks down, usually when company is about to arrive.

Last week I was expecting 16 people over for dinner. As I was preparing dinner, the garbage disposal decided to cough up discarded vegetable waste and stale, dry cat food. I tried running water into the sink and plunging, but that only made it worse. I was close to sink overflow.

In addition to the insinkerator barf looking disgusting, it didn't smell too great either. "Oh s_ _ t!", I thought, "Now what am I going to do?" Of course it was on a Saturday afternoon and no garbage disposal repairmen were on duty.

I had five options:

1. Take the regurgitated stuff outside and put it in the garden for mulch.
2. Hope that one of my guests knows how to fix garbage disposals.
3. Get drunk.
4. Take everyone out for dinner when they get here.
5. Call everyone, cancel dinner, and reschedule.

I picked option one, and five, while seriously considering number three. Number one was messy, but my crocuses look great. Number five turned out to be very positive. We all ended up going out for dinner with each couple paying their own way.

At dinner we all complained about the responsibilities of home ownership, with a few expletives thrown in for good measure. We all enjoyed a couple bottles of Merlot and lots of laughs.

No one volunteered to fix the garbage disposal. I even offered them a free gift bag of horse pucky for their garden.

I Wonder!

I was thinking about the $24,300,112 Aetna CEO Ron Williams makes annually. According to my calcuulations that equates to $467,309.84 per week. I wonder how I'd spend that much money in the course of a week. Let's see now. First of all I'd pay off the mortgages, college tuition loans, and medical school loans, my children and their spouses have. Next I'd give my Horse Pucky readers a million dollars each.

Then I'd go out and buy a different pair of shoes to match all the outfits I don't have yet. I'd probably purchase nail polish, in designer colors, to paint on Bear's claws, and color coordinated leg wraps for Silver & Sadie when I purchase my new equitation wardrobe (for those who are new to Horse Pucky, Bear is my cat, Silver & Sadie are my horses). After that, I'm not sure. I guess I'm just not creative enough to figure out how to spend all that money.

After giving it some serious thought, and getting really honest with myself, I have everything I need and more. Besides, I'm happier than a pig in pucky being the Horse Pucky queen.

Health Care Horse Pucky

Take a look at the annual salaries of the CEOs who run the U.S. health care industry. These aren't stock option inclusions, these are their actual annual salaries. It makes me want to barf. I hope our new Health Care Reform plan goes after some of these big wigs and taxes them accordingly.

-Aetna, Ronald A. Williams: $24,300,112
-Cigna, H. Edward Hanway: $12,236,740
-Coventry, Dale Wolf: $9,047,469
-Health Net, Jay Gellert: $4,425,355
-Humana, Michael McCallister: $4,764,309
-U. Health Group, Stephen J. Hemsley: $3,241,042
-Wellpoint, Angela Braly: $9,844,212

I have no problem with people who are smart enough to make loads of money from an honest days work, or just plain lucky by being in the right place at the right time. My question is: How hard do they have to work, how smart do they have to be, and how many hours a day do they actually work to deserve that kind of money? Where is the balance? And how much does a person need to live comfortably?

What really gets my underwear in a bunch is the fact that in 2010 the health care agencies have contributed $49,769,801 to both the Democrat and Republican Parties for campaign funds. Now tell me how objective either side can be with this Health Care Reform Bill on the table. Let's see what shakes out with all this reform stuff. It should be interesting or just more horse pucky as usual.

It's All In the Name

Names say it all. A lot of names describe the occupation someone is in. For instance, I have a friend who is an anesthesiologist at Rochester General Hospital whose name is Larry Pass. He told me when he retires he wants to open his own gas station and call it Larry Pass's Gas. True story.

Then there are the two doctors who perform vasectomies at Strong Memorial Hospital whose names are...drum roll please...Dr. Stopp and Dr. Cockett. And that ain't no horse pucky. It's very amusing hearing them paged over the hospital speaker system.

There is also a general practioner in the area whose name is Donald Duckles. I want to know what parents, with last name of Duckles, would name their son "Donald". Poor kid. It probably made him a tough guy in the long run.

Anyway, names are fun, can reveal a person's occupation, or are just plain quirky. Take me for example. My last name is Beers. I don't like beer, I don't work in a brewery, and I don't have sixpack abs. But, I'm workin' on the last one.

Grated Tomatoes

"Lightly", a regular reader of Horse Pucky, left a great recipe for a hot curry dish using chicken and all sorts of aromatic, flavorful, spices. The recipe can be found in the comments section of the Moisture or Oyster blog post dated February 25th.

His latest comment called for grated tomatoes. "How in the world do you grate a tomato?", I wondered. At first I thought he was full of horse pucky, but then I discovered there really is such a thing as grated tomatoes. In fact, it's quite an ingenious way to get rid of the seeds and the skin at the same time.

I've been cooking for eons, making my own sauce for pasta dishes, and never heard of grating a tomato. Now I will use this clever, easier way of getting rid of those pesky seeds and the skin at the same time. Or I may just throw the whole bloomin' tomato into the pot, skin and all, and hope for the best, depending on the frame of mind I'm in.

If you're totally turned on by learning how to grate tomatoes, just do a search for "grated tomatoes". The internet is full of all sorts of "How to Grate a Tomato" info, including videos. If I was really nice I would link the info here, but I don't feel like it because I'm getting ready to do some serious tomato grating.

Thanks "lightly", you always come up with something unique. How could I have ever doubted you?!

Fruit of the Loom or Jockeys?

The poor guy! Barrack Obama, President of the United States of America can't even get a physical without the whole world knowing the results. So much for privacy. I had no idea the man smoked. It's hard to take his health care agenda seriously after knowing our Head Kahuna puffs on cigarettes during the day. For all we know he probably eats Happy Meals with a Vodka chaser.

The next thing you know, there'll be a report on the kind of undergarments he wears. I wonder if it's Fruit of the Loom or Jockey briefs.

Moisture Or Oysters

I thought I was over my cold, but apparantly not. My ears are plugged up and my hearing is off.

Case in point is the phone converstion between my daughter Wendy and me today:

Me: Hi, Wendy, How's everybody doing? Is your cold better? Mine is.

Wendy: Everybody's fine and I'm feeling much better. Glad to know you are better. Oh, before I forget, we have moisture in the basement and we're not sure what to do about it.

Me: Oysters in the basement?! You know I love raw oysters. I'll be right over with the coctail sauce.

Wendy: No, Mom. I said moisture. You know, like in damp. I thought you said your cold was better.

Me: Oh...moisture. I'll bring over the dehumidifier instead of the coctail sauce.

At this point, I can picture my daughter rolling her eyes as she completely changes the subject.

Wendy: Let's get our nails done this evening at the new nail spa.

Me: They're serving snails at the spa? I love escargot with garlic and butter.

Wendy: I think you need a nap, and have your ears cleaned out while your at it. I have to go now. Call me when you have your ears roto-rooted.

We finally decided that a dehumidifier for the basement was a good idea, and having our nails done will be a nice treat as soon as our colds are completely gone.

Civil War of 2010

It was bound to happen sooner or later. The government is at war with itself; local, state, and federal. All the governing bodies and all the government parties need to be fired.

How many parties do we have now? Let's see, there's the all too familiar Democrat and Republican parties. Then there's the Independent Party, the Green Party, Sara Palin's Tea Party, the Party To Have A Party, and the ever popular Horse Pucky Party. Personally, I think we're Partied out, except for the Horse Pucky Party.

Our governments spend more time fighting amongst themselves than working. I can honestly see a Civil War looming. All the opposing parties will wage war against one another, while the taxpayers will fight against all the various governing bodies; local, statewide, and federal.

It will be a war to remember, especially if no one pays their local, state, or federal income taxes this year. I can hardly wait. I won't have to file a tax form.

A Code In My Node

Yuk! I have a code in my node. My head feels like it's packed with leftover gauze pads, and my ears are plugged. I feel as though I've been ground up in the insinkerator and put back together by an evil troll.

My drugs of choice to get me through this general malaise is Robitussin cough syrup, guaifenesen, and ibuprofen. The cough syrup keeps me from coughing all night, the guaifenesen offers chest congestion relief, and the ibuprofen reduces inflamation of all body parts. All three combined make me very sleepy, which is what I'm going to do...sleep.

Jon brought over some home made chicken soup, which really helped, gave me a hug, and covered me up with a warm blanket. What a wonderful guy! I think I'll go back to sleep and dream warm, tropical thoughts, while swimming under a waterfall with the guy who brought me home made chicken soup, in hopes I'll get rid of the code in my node soon.

The Bees Knees

I was thinking about my grandmother today. She was a free spirit, always dressed with utmost style and good taste, and (for want of a better description) always thought outside the box. Some of her phrases such as, "Wow, that's the cat's pajamas!" Or "That's the bees knees!" have carried over into my vernacular.

Before I continue using her lingo, 'I thought', it'll be a good idea to look up what Gram's phrases actually mean because I've been known to throw out some words that have totally different meanings than what I originally thought, such as "tube steak", thinking it actually meant hot dog.

Both "cat's pajamas" and "bees knees" originated in the 20's and was part of the typical vocabulary of the flappers, young women whose avant garde wardrobe and free-spirited disregard of social conservatism epitomized the spirit of the Roaring Twenties. My grandmother certainly was all of that and more. I miss her.

"Cat's pajamas", and "bees knees" both mean "that is great", "wonderful", or "the hottest new thing". I kind of figured that out based on how it's used in context. But you never know. At least I haven't embarrased myself too much this time.

Anyone under 50 always laughs and questions the phrase, "Hey that's the bees knees." Now I know where it originated and can explain the history along with the wonderful memories and spirited presence my grandmother continues to give me.

Out Of The Moment Retreat Facilities

For those of you who showed an interest in our Out of the Moment Retreat facilities, we have grass huts available for a reasonable price. Just outside the entrance to your hut you can commune with our local gorillas, go for a hike in the mountains, or walk a short distance and go surfing.

There's also a seaside horseback ride on two retired thoroughbred race horses, who still think they're on the track. Watch out for the horse pucky when you go barefoot on the beach!

We promise you a very exhilarating, exciting, natural vacation. Oh, I almost forgot. We give each of you a complimentary bottle of Merlot with each booking. You'll need it! AND you can pick your own coffee beans for an early morning, extra fresh, cup of coffee.

For a vacation you'll never forget, email us for a reservation before we're all sold out.

It's the 14th of February!

Aside from the fact it's Valentine's Day, it's also the Chinese New Year and Jim Kelly's birthday.

1. Happy Valentine's Day to everyone who reads Horse Pucky. If you were here I'd give you a big hug.

2. Happy New Year to my favorite Chinese take out place. You've saved me on more than one occassion when I wondered what to have for dinner when unexpected guests arrive, and I neglected to go grocery shiopping that week.

3. Happy Birthday, Jim. I still think you should be GM for the Buffalo Bills. The team just hasn't been the same without you.

Out of the Moment Retreat

Jon and I figured out a warm, sunny place to start a business. Our plan is to build a modest retreat called Out of the Moment in a remote location in Mexico. It's a perfect spot with all sorts of exciting activities, especially for those of us who don't know how to stay in the moment.

One of our featured, outdoor sports will include surfing, which will take place just outside your rented grass hut, located in a sequestered Mexican seaside area. As our guest, you'll be at one with nature as you commune with all that is real.

Surfing in our secluded beach area is an adventure you'll never forget. It'll blow your mind! We promise.

Tomorrow we'll show you more Out Of The Moment Retreat activities for those who are daredevils at heart, not too bright, or too inebriated to know the difference.

Enjoy!

Horse Pucky Award of the Week: Utility Companies

That's it! I've had it! The Rochester Gas and Electric Company sends out bills that a Harvard Law grad can't understand. I took a good look at the charges on my utility bill for the month and had some serious questions. After talking with RG&E, I decided to give them the Horse Pucky Award of the Week.

What in the name of all that is holy does the following mean: ?????????????

On My Bill, Under Natural Gas Delivery Charges

1. Delivery charge for next December: $6.47

Next December!?!? We may be moving to a warmer climate by then or I may be in an urn, whichever comes first. (At my age, I like living in the moment.) Because of the high heat temperatures during the cremation process I'm sure RG&E will figure out a way to bill me until the year 3000 and beyond.

2. Next January!?!? Delivery charge for next January: $8.52

Same as December with one exception. Why is it more costly in January than December? Must be the therms or perms or whatever they use to determine their pricing.

3. NY state assessment: $1.40

Required by NY state law in order to fund our NY State government "leaders" so they can go on a Caribbean vacation. Read page 5 of your Rochester Gas and Electric bill. It's very informative.

Just the supply charge for the gas portion of my bill this month is $64.94, with actual gas usage priced at $31.18! At those prices, I'm going to figure out how to bottle and supply my own gas. Maybe I'll have beans and Brussels sprouts for dinner.

Until I eat enough gaseous food, I'm going to send Rochester Gas and Electric the Horse Pucky Award of the week sans the gift bag.

Keep in mind, I haven't even touched on the electric portion of my bill yet.

Flour or Flower on Valentine's Day?

Jon and I were sitting on the sofa after brunch late this morning and he asked me, "Do you want a flower on Valentine's day?" "I thought you were alergic to flowers in the house," I replied. "No, I was thinking more like a 12# bag of King Arthur flour so you could make me chocolate chip cookies for Valentine's Day. There's a lot of romance surrounding King Arthur." At which point, I was thinking of hurling a sharp object at him, but declined due to strict laws in NY state regarding pointed, flying objects aimed at humans.

Just a tidbit of local history: Rochester, NY (where we live) used to be known as the flour city. In 1824 there were 20 flour mills producing 500,000 barrels of flour annually. By 1850 Rochester became the flower city because upstate horticulturists, Ellwinger and Barry, started a seed company which became the largest seed company in the world.

Bottom line: Ladies, make sure your communication is 100% accurate even if you have to spell it out. WOMEN WANT FLOWERS NOT FLOUR. We ALL know what men REALLY want. And it isn't chocolate chip cookies...maybe...sort of...or in addition to.

Valentine's Day: You Never Know

Women never know what guys want for Valentine's Day. In order to figure out what to get my Sweetie on February 14th, I checked the "net" and found at least six things men want most for "V" day. I wasn't too surprised to find the following, somewhat surprised at others:

1. Micro Beer Bucket Gift Basket, $69.99@GourmetBaskets.com This comes as no surprise.

2. Drive a Nascar, $229.00@CloudNineLiving Not too surprising either.

3. Men's Wicked Good Slippers, $49.95@atL.L.L.Bean I have the women's version and I love mine. Good idea and very practical for those who live in the snowbelt.

4. Bucky Balls , $29.50@UncommonGoods Not sure I even want to go there.

5. Personalized Outdoor Grill Metal Plaque, $58.99@HomeWetBar Great way to get your honey to grill outside no matter what the weather conditions.

6.Personalized M&Ms with your name & your sweethearts name on each M&M, or your favorite baseball or football teams. The sky's the limit with M&Ms. $37@myM&Ms Intriguing. I suspect most guys would like their favorite football team.

My favorite gift idea is a bag of Horse Pucky. It's great for the garden and indoor house plants. It definitely conveys a heartfelt message on many levels and men love it! Let me know if you want any because I have a limited supply of these gift bags in stock.

It's All In the Drawl

Well Y'all, I just found out today why I didn't get the job as head coach of the Buffalo Bills. It's because I lack a prevalent Southern drawl. I practiced my "y'all" for months but it turns out that Buddy Nix's Alabama speech patterns and Chandler Gailey's Georgia oral fabrications were favored over my upstate NY flat "e" nasal twang. Oh well.

Buffalo Bills owner, Ralph Wilson thought I had some great qualifications. One of which is the short driving distance from Rochester to Buffalo, and the other is firing the whole team and starting over. At least I'm on a wait list. If Gailey doesn't work out, this just may be my ticket to the NFL hall of fame or maybe it's the AFL or the PGA.

If you believe any of this I'll be happy to send you a bag of horse pucky.

Good Grief Valentine!

How in the world did the romantic version of St. Valentine's Day come to pass when St. Valentine, a Roman priest, was beaten to death with clubs and stones and then beheaded just because he married Christian couples? All because helping Christians in 496 A.D. was a crime. Good grief! Where's the romance there?

I guess Hallmark changed everything in the 20th century or maybe it was Chaucer in the 14th century. In either case, being beheaded puts a whole new twist on things and certainly gives special meaning to the song, "Losing My Head Over You".

Roving Eyes

Why is it that men, no matter how happy they are with the woman they're with, have a roving eye?

Can any of you gentlemen answer that question? This is a survey.

Exciting New Job Perspective

After serious consideration, I decided to submit my resume to the Buffalo Bills as their head coach.

My qualifications are as follows:

1. Cheerleader for Eastridge High School Lancers football team (1958).

2. I can throw a spiral pass at least one yard on a good day.

3. I live in Rochester, NY and Buffalo is only 80 miles away. With my "lead" foot, I can get there in 45 minutes.

4. I love the snow.

5. Being a female coach increases the testosterone levels of the players, thus lighting a fire under them so they play better.

6. Just sittiing and watching the Bills play is frustrating. As head coach, I can become an active participant and swear at them in person.

7. I'm cuter than Dick Jauron, and definitely have more energy.

8. Owner, Ralph wilson, Jr. at age 91 is near-sighted and probably won't even realize I'm a female.

9. I'm totally familiar with the AFL, NFL, AFC, PGA, HBPA.

10. Last but not least I have the perfect last name...BEERS. The guys can call me "Six Pack".

Whadaya think? Will I get the job or not? I'll definitly keep you posted.

First Sign of Cabin Fever

Many women have beautiful feet. I'm not one of them. Over the years I've been stepped on by horses, men who think they can dance, and objects falling from overhead closets that were placed where they shoulddn't have been. But it doesn't matter, because this time of year (and it's only the middle of January) I get cabin fever. The first thing I do to avoid my homicidal tendencies during these cold snowy months is get out a bottle of red nail polish and paint my toenails. It's usually a rite of spring, but this year I can't wait until spring.

I keep the house at 62 degrees, because I'm too cheap to pay the gas & electric company their exorbantant rates, so the red nail polish I used got kinda gloppy. Again, I don't really care, because my toes are a lovely shade of gloppy red and I'm happy. Everytime I look at my toes I smile. Yup, this cold weather is really getting to me. But, then again, simple minds like simple things.

Has It Been That Long?

I can't believe October 13th was my last post. Tsk, tsk.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Holidays, Happy Hannuka, or whatever is politically correct these days.

In any and all cases I wish all of you a super year full of mischief, curmudgeonly spirit, and good old rip roaring raucous humor. When all else fails, have fun!