I destroyed a wasp nest today. And I enjoyed it. Well, I did at first.
Did you know that wasps are stupid? (the insects, not White Anglo Saxon Protestants, however, some of them are really stupid, too.) I don't know much about entomology, but I really can't imagine why they exist. I am sure they do something for the eco-system, but I can't imagine that it is really vital. I am sure that other insects could do what they do.
Today I noticed a wasp nest forming on the overhang above my garage door. About an hour later I went outside and there were 5 wasps busily making the nest. So I opened the garage door and they did not move.
I grabbed a can of Raid and stood about 10 inches away from the nest and they did not move. I sprayed the beJeezus out of them. Most insects are smart enough to scatter when a human approaches (i.e. flies and mosquitos), but not the dumbass wasps. They succumbed to the repellant and flailed to the ground, writhing in a Raid induced seizure.
And therefore my bad feelings. It was so easy. There was no satisfaction in destroying 5 hideous pests. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. It was like stumping Half-Governor Sarah Palin with an American History question.
It's just too easy.
Betty's reaction: "Willie Lou (her sister) blows up when she gets stung by bees". And once again she reminds me to not use dirty words.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Weiner, Weiner, Chicken Deener
Well, well, well.... I guess it is safe to say with "certitude", that "the Weiner" is assuredly a dick!!
With today's acknowledgement that he is with "certitude" a liar, an arrogant douche and a perv, Congressman Anthony Weiner became yet another official member of the "Sex Scandals Ruined My Political Career and Possibly My Marriage" Hall of Shame. Congratulations?
"The Weiner" is now joining his fellow inductees such as New Jersey Governor James McGreevy, South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford, Congressman Mark Foley, Senator Larry Craig, Senator Vitter, Senator What's-His-Name from Nevada, New York Governor Eliot Spitzer, California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and North Carolina Senator John Edwards. Weiner joins these esteemed members on a day that we, the American people, watched a scrawny little New York Jew with a large.....nose... completely implode on national television. He so likes hearing the sound of his voice and is so sure that every word he says is interesting, that for 40 minutes he dug a grave so deep that he and all of his fellow "SSRMPCAPMM" members would fit in it. [Interesting fact: the password to enter the SSRMPCAPMM headquarters is: "Damn you Bill Clinton! You made it out alive!"]
So, what do we take away from this kids? A) if you are, say, a congressman, keep "the weiner" in your pants; B) do not take a picture of "the weiner"; C) do not send said picture of "the weiner" to random women you have met on the internet; and D) when you get caught and you will, SHUT THE "F" UP!
And the worse part of the story is that that right wing nominee for "Douche of the Year", Andrew Breitbart was right for the fist time...ever!
What would Betty say about "the weiner"? "He sure has a big nose". And once again go on about how Bill Clinton had 'relations' with that fat girl.
With today's acknowledgement that he is with "certitude" a liar, an arrogant douche and a perv, Congressman Anthony Weiner became yet another official member of the "Sex Scandals Ruined My Political Career and Possibly My Marriage" Hall of Shame. Congratulations?
"The Weiner" is now joining his fellow inductees such as New Jersey Governor James McGreevy, South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford, Congressman Mark Foley, Senator Larry Craig, Senator Vitter, Senator What's-His-Name from Nevada, New York Governor Eliot Spitzer, California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger and North Carolina Senator John Edwards. Weiner joins these esteemed members on a day that we, the American people, watched a scrawny little New York Jew with a large.....nose... completely implode on national television. He so likes hearing the sound of his voice and is so sure that every word he says is interesting, that for 40 minutes he dug a grave so deep that he and all of his fellow "SSRMPCAPMM" members would fit in it. [Interesting fact: the password to enter the SSRMPCAPMM headquarters is: "Damn you Bill Clinton! You made it out alive!"]
So, what do we take away from this kids? A) if you are, say, a congressman, keep "the weiner" in your pants; B) do not take a picture of "the weiner"; C) do not send said picture of "the weiner" to random women you have met on the internet; and D) when you get caught and you will, SHUT THE "F" UP!
And the worse part of the story is that that right wing nominee for "Douche of the Year", Andrew Breitbart was right for the fist time...ever!
What would Betty say about "the weiner"? "He sure has a big nose". And once again go on about how Bill Clinton had 'relations' with that fat girl.
I Am Great
I was always a good Uncle. If I say so myself,and according to my nieces and nephews, I am a very good Uncle. But now, I am a GREAT Uncle. My nephew Dustan and his wife, Megan, had a freshly spawned little boy on Sunday. They named him Taydn Boyce Howard. (I know, it sounds like something Sarah Palin would make up) Truth be told, I hear, my niece (Dustan's sister) made the name up. The middle name is Dustan's grandfather's (on his mother side) name, which I think is pretty sweet.
Fortunately, from the photos I have seen, Dustan IS the father. No need for a Maury Povich paternity test here. He looks exactly like Dustan who looks exactly like his father. (my brother) So, the Howard full lips, big ears and skinny legs will carry on for yet another generation. (Oh, Glory!)
Dustan and Megan (and now Baby Taydn) live in far northern California, which means the Howard relatives in Texas will rarely see the little "Tay Boy" (which is what I think I will call him). It's kind of sad to think we won't be able to see him grow and for him to not get to know us. But, as I have always said, being an uncle is the greatest job in the world because.... you can always give them back! You can play and bring presents and when you get that whiff of rancid English Peas whafting from their bottoms....you give them back! So with this little one, not so much play time and not so many presents and not so many stinky Pampers. So, in order for Great Uncle Pappy (which is what I think I want to be called, although I heard tonight that my brother wants to be called Pappy, and that might be a little confusing) to make an impact on this next generation of Howard, the play and gifts have to be quick and intense. I'll have to work on that.
Uncle Pappy ain't as fun as he used to be!
What would Betty say about her first great grand baby? "Did they leave a vowel out of that name?" And then she would go on about how Dustan and Megan don't "have a pot to pee in, but neither did Charles and I."
Fortunately, from the photos I have seen, Dustan IS the father. No need for a Maury Povich paternity test here. He looks exactly like Dustan who looks exactly like his father. (my brother) So, the Howard full lips, big ears and skinny legs will carry on for yet another generation. (Oh, Glory!)
Dustan and Megan (and now Baby Taydn) live in far northern California, which means the Howard relatives in Texas will rarely see the little "Tay Boy" (which is what I think I will call him). It's kind of sad to think we won't be able to see him grow and for him to not get to know us. But, as I have always said, being an uncle is the greatest job in the world because.... you can always give them back! You can play and bring presents and when you get that whiff of rancid English Peas whafting from their bottoms....you give them back! So with this little one, not so much play time and not so many presents and not so many stinky Pampers. So, in order for Great Uncle Pappy (which is what I think I want to be called, although I heard tonight that my brother wants to be called Pappy, and that might be a little confusing) to make an impact on this next generation of Howard, the play and gifts have to be quick and intense. I'll have to work on that.
Uncle Pappy ain't as fun as he used to be!
What would Betty say about her first great grand baby? "Did they leave a vowel out of that name?" And then she would go on about how Dustan and Megan don't "have a pot to pee in, but neither did Charles and I."
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Tennis Anyone?
You know you are getting old when you plan your Saturday night so that you can get up early on Sunday to watch all the political shows on the air. I watch all of them... CNN's "State of the Union", NBC's "Meet the Press", ABC's "This Week With Christianne Amanpour". I even watch FOXNews' show with Chris Wallace. I try to pay attention enough to CNN's "GPS with Fareed Zarakia", but that's a lot to ask of a person.
So imagine my dismay this morning when I turned on NBC to watch "Meet The Press" (the granddaddy of all the Sunday political shows) and see that it was preempted for coverage of The French Open Tennis Tournament. A tennis tournament, really? A tennis tournament, a French one at that, is more important than Former Governor and J.C. Penney model Mitt Romney's declaration of running for President? A tennis tournament is more important than coverage of Half-Governor Sarah Palin's "Family Vacation" highlighting America's liberty by enlightening us all with her knowledge of Paul Revere's "ringing bells" and pepperoni pizza? A tennis tournament is more important than coverage of Republican Presidential candidates Tim Pawlenty and Newt Gingrich? (Okay, there you have me, yes, it is.) A tennis tournament is more important than the weakening economy and divisive political parties playing with our future. And for gosh sakes, a tennis tournament is more important than Congressman Anthony Weiner's... well, okay, I'll say it... wiener! More important than a wiener? Really?
I really hate it when networks or local channel's preempt my programs. During the finale of "Dancing With The Stars" I almost went all "paso doble" on my local channel because they had the audacity of warning me of a tornado over my head. I almost missed the awarding of the mirror ball trophy to Hines Ward because lives were in danger. Where are the priorities?
So, today I am left with 4 shows to watch. Oh, wait, as scrolling through my TV guide I noticed that there is a political show on CBS. CBS? Is that still a network?
Betty's thoughts? "That Sarah Palin has pretty hair". And then she would go on about her program ("One Life to Live") and how silly Nora and Bo are acting.
So imagine my dismay this morning when I turned on NBC to watch "Meet The Press" (the granddaddy of all the Sunday political shows) and see that it was preempted for coverage of The French Open Tennis Tournament. A tennis tournament, really? A tennis tournament, a French one at that, is more important than Former Governor and J.C. Penney model Mitt Romney's declaration of running for President? A tennis tournament is more important than coverage of Half-Governor Sarah Palin's "Family Vacation" highlighting America's liberty by enlightening us all with her knowledge of Paul Revere's "ringing bells" and pepperoni pizza? A tennis tournament is more important than coverage of Republican Presidential candidates Tim Pawlenty and Newt Gingrich? (Okay, there you have me, yes, it is.) A tennis tournament is more important than the weakening economy and divisive political parties playing with our future. And for gosh sakes, a tennis tournament is more important than Congressman Anthony Weiner's... well, okay, I'll say it... wiener! More important than a wiener? Really?
I really hate it when networks or local channel's preempt my programs. During the finale of "Dancing With The Stars" I almost went all "paso doble" on my local channel because they had the audacity of warning me of a tornado over my head. I almost missed the awarding of the mirror ball trophy to Hines Ward because lives were in danger. Where are the priorities?
So, today I am left with 4 shows to watch. Oh, wait, as scrolling through my TV guide I noticed that there is a political show on CBS. CBS? Is that still a network?
Betty's thoughts? "That Sarah Palin has pretty hair". And then she would go on about her program ("One Life to Live") and how silly Nora and Bo are acting.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
A Good Haircut on A Bad Head of Hair is Still A Bad Hair Cut
I forgot to mention that today not only did I work in the yard (see post below), but I also gave myself a haircut. You all know that I am " follicly challenged". As noted in an earlier post, I am grateful for the trend for bald persons to shear their hair close to their heads.
I have always been embarrassed to get my haircut. I walk into the "Supercuts". Hopefully, I have missed the Friday "I'm going out tonight and I need my fade trimmed" rush. I walk up to the counter and the receptionist asks if I want a shampoo and I always say "no". I then take off my ballcap and I say to her/him, " Don't you think my haircut should be half the price?" THEY NEVER LAUGH. I set in the chair. Awkward small talk with the hairstylist occurs. They ask how I want my hair cut. Really? You need to ask? I say use the number 5 clipper all over and clean and blocked in the back. It takes approximately 2 minutes to get the clippers and peel my onion. I leave a 2 dollar tip and pay $18 for the haircut. And then I always put my ball cap on and leave.
It's been about 3 months since I have had a haircut. My hair (what there is) grows slowly. But I was looking like a crazy person kind of like the love child of Don Knotts and Christopher Lloyd in "Back to the Future". So, I decided today "why go to Supercuts when you can go to Walmarts and buy some clippers and do it yourself?" And that's what I did. I payed $24 for a clipper set with multiple length clippers. And I did it. I cut my own hair. And it looks good. Well, it looks okay. As good as it can.
And Betty would say: "I don't know know why you are so bald...your brother has beautiful hair."
I have always been embarrassed to get my haircut. I walk into the "Supercuts". Hopefully, I have missed the Friday "I'm going out tonight and I need my fade trimmed" rush. I walk up to the counter and the receptionist asks if I want a shampoo and I always say "no". I then take off my ballcap and I say to her/him, " Don't you think my haircut should be half the price?" THEY NEVER LAUGH. I set in the chair. Awkward small talk with the hairstylist occurs. They ask how I want my hair cut. Really? You need to ask? I say use the number 5 clipper all over and clean and blocked in the back. It takes approximately 2 minutes to get the clippers and peel my onion. I leave a 2 dollar tip and pay $18 for the haircut. And then I always put my ball cap on and leave.
It's been about 3 months since I have had a haircut. My hair (what there is) grows slowly. But I was looking like a crazy person kind of like the love child of Don Knotts and Christopher Lloyd in "Back to the Future". So, I decided today "why go to Supercuts when you can go to Walmarts and buy some clippers and do it yourself?" And that's what I did. I payed $24 for a clipper set with multiple length clippers. And I did it. I cut my own hair. And it looks good. Well, it looks okay. As good as it can.
And Betty would say: "I don't know know why you are so bald...your brother has beautiful hair."
A Delicate Flower
Today I worked out in the yard. I have been working in the yard a lot lately. As some of you know I am living in my parents old house trying to fix it up for selling. And as I have learned on HGTV (hello Monica), it's all about the "Curb Appeal".
The front yard was a horror and completely grown over. For almost 2 years it has been completely neglected. If Betty could see it she would die (again). Betty was an avid gardener. When she retired she went full-stop with 2 hobbies - quilt making and gardening. She came about it naturally. Her father was a farmer and planted many of the trees on our property 50 years ago. We always had a vegetable garden and Betty loved flowers. Betty was not only a gardener, she was a prize winning gardener. She won "yard of the month" and was in the Dallas Morning News twice. Once for her "yard art" and she won "honorable mention" (or as she would say "I was honorably mentioned") for another contest. Just about every inch of dirt had something planted in it. And if she could put an Iris bed somewhere, she would.
Tackling the yard is not my favorite thing. I did not inherit Betty's love for tilling the soil. I love flowers but I want someone else to grow them. And most of you know that manual labor is not my forte. I do "pretty", I don't dig and haul. But because I am poor I have to do the work myself and as Betty would say, "no one helps me out around here!". The job started with clean up. 46 bags of leaves later, I was ready to actually "work" in the yard. I dug up a big overgrown flower bed and put in red bark mulch . I've pruned trees and bushes. I've added bricks to the sidewalk to stave off the dirt from the bare spots in the yard. My brother (yes, Betty had another son) actually helped and planted some new sod for the bald spots (baldness is a family trait) from 2 years of leaves destroying the grass. I have also added mulch around the old trees for a "clean professional look".
Which leads me to today. Today I dug up a random Iris bed that Betty had planted in the front yard. I've been putting it off. I knew I needed to dig it up, but I kept delaying it. And today I realized why. As I was digging I couldn't help but think about Betty. Irises were her signature flower. Some of the bulbs on our property are extremely old and came from her old home place where she grew up. I felt really bad because I know that I destroyed some of them. I thought- should I replant them? Where? Should I give them away? And then I looked around at the hundreds and hundreds of Iris bulbs around this house and I said to myself, "screw it!". And then I threw them in a trash bag and put them in the garbage. And then I took them out. But then I put them back.
Betty, I am sorry, but we're cleaning up and moving on. You never threw anything away, but we've got to. You were very practical and I am sure you understand.
And with that, Betty would say: "I know it's a lot work". And then she would tell me that she is sure that the neighbors think we are lazy for having such a nasty yard. "Their gonna think you are trash!"
The front yard was a horror and completely grown over. For almost 2 years it has been completely neglected. If Betty could see it she would die (again). Betty was an avid gardener. When she retired she went full-stop with 2 hobbies - quilt making and gardening. She came about it naturally. Her father was a farmer and planted many of the trees on our property 50 years ago. We always had a vegetable garden and Betty loved flowers. Betty was not only a gardener, she was a prize winning gardener. She won "yard of the month" and was in the Dallas Morning News twice. Once for her "yard art" and she won "honorable mention" (or as she would say "I was honorably mentioned") for another contest. Just about every inch of dirt had something planted in it. And if she could put an Iris bed somewhere, she would.
Tackling the yard is not my favorite thing. I did not inherit Betty's love for tilling the soil. I love flowers but I want someone else to grow them. And most of you know that manual labor is not my forte. I do "pretty", I don't dig and haul. But because I am poor I have to do the work myself and as Betty would say, "no one helps me out around here!". The job started with clean up. 46 bags of leaves later, I was ready to actually "work" in the yard. I dug up a big overgrown flower bed and put in red bark mulch . I've pruned trees and bushes. I've added bricks to the sidewalk to stave off the dirt from the bare spots in the yard. My brother (yes, Betty had another son) actually helped and planted some new sod for the bald spots (baldness is a family trait) from 2 years of leaves destroying the grass. I have also added mulch around the old trees for a "clean professional look".
Which leads me to today. Today I dug up a random Iris bed that Betty had planted in the front yard. I've been putting it off. I knew I needed to dig it up, but I kept delaying it. And today I realized why. As I was digging I couldn't help but think about Betty. Irises were her signature flower. Some of the bulbs on our property are extremely old and came from her old home place where she grew up. I felt really bad because I know that I destroyed some of them. I thought- should I replant them? Where? Should I give them away? And then I looked around at the hundreds and hundreds of Iris bulbs around this house and I said to myself, "screw it!". And then I threw them in a trash bag and put them in the garbage. And then I took them out. But then I put them back.
Betty, I am sorry, but we're cleaning up and moving on. You never threw anything away, but we've got to. You were very practical and I am sure you understand.
And with that, Betty would say: "I know it's a lot work". And then she would tell me that she is sure that the neighbors think we are lazy for having such a nasty yard. "Their gonna think you are trash!"
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
I Wish I Were A Congressman Weiner
There's a new sex scandal in town and it's name is Weiner. It seems (allegedly) that Congressman Anthony Weiner twitted (tweeted? twatted?) a photo of his erect frankfurter in his underoos to a college girl in Washington State. As with any sex scandal, it's not the actual act that gets you in trouble, it's the cover up!
He says that his Twitter account was hacked and that he did not send the photo to the young woman. BUT, he can not for sure say that it is or isn't a picture of his schlong. You can't say for sure that it is or isn't YOUR penis? Really? You don't know that it is YOUR penis?
Okay, let me explain something to you female readers. A man knows his own penis. HE KNOWS HIS OWN PENIS. I know my penis like the back of my hand, so to speak. Any man knows in detail what his penis looks like. Without going into every inch of details, although some men might not know a lot of things...he KNOWS his penis! So, to say that you can not for certain say that the photo of your erection in grey underwear is yours or not...come on! I've seen the photo and if it were me.... I have to say, I would be admitting that and showing it to any one that would be interested, if you know what I mean. This we know for sure: He's Jewish.
Thank you God above that we didn't have twitter when I was in college.
What would Betty say? "It's all Bill Clinton's fault". And then she would go on and on how much better Hillary looks in pant suits. "She has thick ankles".
He says that his Twitter account was hacked and that he did not send the photo to the young woman. BUT, he can not for sure say that it is or isn't a picture of his schlong. You can't say for sure that it is or isn't YOUR penis? Really? You don't know that it is YOUR penis?
Okay, let me explain something to you female readers. A man knows his own penis. HE KNOWS HIS OWN PENIS. I know my penis like the back of my hand, so to speak. Any man knows in detail what his penis looks like. Without going into every inch of details, although some men might not know a lot of things...he KNOWS his penis! So, to say that you can not for certain say that the photo of your erection in grey underwear is yours or not...come on! I've seen the photo and if it were me.... I have to say, I would be admitting that and showing it to any one that would be interested, if you know what I mean. This we know for sure: He's Jewish.
Thank you God above that we didn't have twitter when I was in college.
What would Betty say? "It's all Bill Clinton's fault". And then she would go on and on how much better Hillary looks in pant suits. "She has thick ankles".
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