W2DR

I have everything that I wanted as a teenager. Only it's 70 years later. I don't have to go to school or work. I get an allowance every month. I have my own pad. I don't have a curfew. I have a driver's license and my own car. The people I hang around with are not scared of getting pregnant and I don't have acne. Life is great. I changed my car horn to gunshot sounds. People get out of the way much faster now. Gone are the days when girls used to cook like their mothers. Now they drink like their fathers. I didn't make it to the gym today. That makes five years in a row. I decided to stop calling the bathroom "John" and renamed it "The Jim". I feel so much better saying I went to the Jim this morning. Old age is coming at a really bad time. When I was a child I thought "nap time" was a punishment. Now it feels like a small vacation. The biggest lie I tell myself is... " I don't have to write that down, I'll remember it". I don't have gray hair... I have "wisdom highlights"! I'm just very wise. If God wanted me to touch my toes, He would've put them on my knees. Last year I joined a support group for procrastinators. But we haven't met yet. Why do I have to press one for English when you're just going to transfer me to someone I can't understand anyway? Of course, I talk to myself. Sometimes I need expert advice. At my age "Getting Lucky" means walking into a room and remembering what I came in there for.

Not a problem. Facebook and X have promised to protect me.............

I'm 81 years old now and I just learned that the Armed Forces think I'm too old to track down terrorists. You can't be older than 42 to join the military. They've got the whole thing ass-backwards. Instead of sending 18-year olds off to fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join a military unit until you're at least 55. For starters, researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds. Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a month, leaving us more than 280,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. Young guys haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous soldier. 'My back hurts! I can't sleep. I'm tired and hungry.' We are bad-tempered and impatient. And maybe letting us kill some asshole that desperately deserves it will make us feel better and shut us up for a while. An 18-year-old doesn't even like to get up before 10 am. Old guys always get up early to pee, so what the hell. Besides, like I said, I'm tired and can't sleep and since I'm already up, I may as well be up killing some fanatical son-of-a-bitch. If captured, we couldn't spill the beans because we'd forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real brainteaser. Boot camp would be easier for old guys. We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we're used to soft food. We've also developed an appreciation for guns. We've been using them for years as an excuse to get out of the house, away from the screaming and yelling. They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and never saw a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever do any pushups after completing basic training Actually, the running part is kind of a waste of energy, too. I've never seen anyone outrun a bullet. An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave, to start a conversation with a pretty girl. He still hasn't figured out that a baseball cap has a brim to shade his eyes, not the back of his head. These are all great reasons to keep our kids at home to learn a little more about life before sending them off into harm's way. Let us old guys track down those terrorists. The last thing an enemy would want to see is a couple million pissed off old farts with bad attitudes and automatic weapons who know that their best years are already behind them. HEY!! How about recruiting Women over 50... in menopause!!! You think MEN have attitudes?? Ohhhhhhhhhhhh my God!!! If nothing else, put them on border patrol. They'll have it secured the first night!

Who the heck could deal with something like this? Today’s Stock Market Report: Helium was up, feathers were down. Paper was stationary. Fluorescent tubing was dimmed in light trading. Knives were up sharply. Cows steered into a bull market. Pencils lost a few points. Hiking equipment was trailing. Elevators rose, while escalators continued their slow decline. Weights were up in heavy trading. Light switches were off. Mining equipment hit rock bottom. Diapers remain unchanged. Shipping lines stayed at an even keel. The market for raisins dried up. Coca Cola fizzled. Caterpillar stock inched up a bit. Sun peaked at midday. Balloon prices were inflated. Scott Tissue touched a new bottom. Batteries exploded in an attempt to recharge the market

ME ON THE PHONE: Pizza Deliziosa? GOOGLE: No sir, it’s Google Pizza. ME: I must have dialed the wrong number. Sorry. GOOGLE: No sir, you didn’t dial the wrong number. Google bought Pizza Deliziosa last month. ME: Okay, then I’d like to order a pizza. GOOGLE: Do you want the usual, sir? ME: The usual? Do you know who I am? GOOGLE: According to your datasheet, the last 12 times you ordered a pizza, you requested one with three kinds of cheese, sausage, peppers, mushrooms, and meatballs. ME: Yes, that’s what I want … GOOGLE: Can I suggest you order gluten-free whole wheat this time with ricotta, rocket salad, olives, and dried tomatoes? ME: What? No, I want the usual pizza! GOOGLE: Sir, your cholesterol is not good. ME: How the hell do you know that? GOOGLE: We have associated your phone number with your medical records. We have the result of your blood tests for the past 7 years. ME: Okay, but I am taking my cholesterol drugs and I want the pizza I order usually! GOOGLE: Excuse me sir, but you haven’t taken your meds regularly. According to our database, you only purchased a box of 30 cholesterol tablets once 4 months ago from Drug RX Network. ME: I bought more in another pharmacy. GOOGLE: This does not appear on your credit card statement. ME: I paid in cash. GOOGLE: But according to your bank statement, you haven’t withdrawn enough cash. ME: I have other sources of money. GOOGLE: This does not appear in your last tax return. Unless you have an undeclared source of income, which is against the law. ME: WHAT? GOOGLE: I’m sorry, sir. I can reassure you that we use this information with the sole intention of helping you. ME: Enough! I can not handle it anymore! I hate Google, Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp, and all the other damn social sites. I am going to an island without internet, without TV, where there is no mobile phone service and no one who can watch and spy on me! GOOGLE: I understand sir, but first you have to renew your passport. It expired 6 weeks ago …

I know this was posted before but I was asked to post it again......... When I was seven years old my best friend's father bought a pool table. An old slate-top 5x10 Brunswick. He converted one of his chicken coops to hold it and "the pool room" was born. I played pool on that table 4-5 days a week for the next eight years. Back in those days "the game" was straight pool. He who sinks 125 balls first wins. The smaller 4 1/2 x 9 tables and the popularity of 9-ball was 20 years away. Willie Mosconi was my hero in those years. To heck with The Lone Ranger and those wimpy cartoon guys. By the time I was 15 there was nobody in town willing to put a five on the rail to try me. But there was always the soldiers. The town where I lived was adjacent to one of largest Army basic-training base in the country. And the first of every month "the boys" would come to town. Ready to find the local bars, the local girls, and the local pool hall. And for the first three days of every month I was always at the local pool hall. Back then, the minimum wage was US$1.00/hr. Work a 160 hour month and, before taxes, you would earn US$160. Appealing? Not to me. On the first three days of the month I could easily "earn" US$400-500 from our soldier friends. And there were no taxes. And still over three weeks of the month to go. But let's get back to Grady Mathews. When I was 18 years old a met a guy who was to become my mentor. His name was Charlie. I knew how to shoot pool. I knew all the shots. Charlie knew that. But he also knew that I didn't know how to hustle. So he set out to teach me. About an hour's drive north of where I lived there was a world-class Brunswick dealer. Let me call it GCB. And at that dealer was a friend of Charlie's, a guy named Fred. We'd drive up on the weekend nights (when the dealership was closed) to play on the world-class tables in the showroom. One night a friend of Fred's showed up. Some kid named Grady. He and I were about the same age (I think I was a month older) and we hit it off right away. Over the next couple of years I shared many tables with Grady. No money was involved. We just played for bragging rights. Grady Mathews was one of the greatest sticks of all time. I'll never forget him or what he taught me. Sometime in 1962-63 he moved on up the road to Cochran's, 1028 Market St., San Francisco. The mecca of pool in those days. And pool hustling. Ronnie Allen, One Eyed Hank, San Jose Dick, Ears, Legs, Sleepy Bob, and Okie Sam are just a few of the "regulars" I remember. The love of my life (and now my wife) lived in San Francisco in those days. I'd drive up on Friday evening, spend a few hours at Cochcran's with Grady, meet her the next day and night, and drive back home on Sunday. What a life. Grady was the Technical Director on the 1986 Tom Cruise movie "The Color Of Money". He makes a brief appearance from 1:17:28 to 1:18:15. Sadly, first Grady, and now Charlie, have passed on. It's been almost 55 years since I last saw Charlie. And 60 years since I last saw Grady. But the memories linger on. And I'll always remember Charlie as the guy who made it all possible.

Careful........ DEAR NEIGHBOR: Hi, Fred, this is Richard, next door. I’ve got a confession to make. I’ve been riddled with guilt for a few months and have been trying to get up the courage to tell you face-to-face. At least I’m telling you in this e-mail. I can’t live with myself a minute longer without your knowing about this. The truth is that, when you’re not around, I’ve been sharing your wife, day and night. In fact, probably much more than you. I haven’t been getting it at home recently, and I know that that’s no excuse. The temptation was just too great. I can’t live with the guilt and hope you’ll accept my sincere apology and forgive me. Please suggest a fee for usage, and I’ll pay you. Regards, Richard. NEIGHBOR’S RESPONSE: Fred, feeling very angry and betrayed, grabbed his gun, went next door, and shot Richard, killing him. He went back home, shot his wife, poured himself a stiff drink and sat down on the sofa. Fred then looked at his computer again and discovered a second e-mail from Richard. 2ND E-MAIL: Hi, Fred. Richard here again. Sorry about the typo on my last email. I expect you figured it out and noticed that the darned Auto-Correct had changed “wi-fi” to “wife.” Technology, huh? It’ll be the death of us all.

The first time we visited England (we're from The Colonies) I realized that you don't speak no good English over there 😄.

English is such a strange and inconsistent language... e.g., We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes; but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes. One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese, yet the plural of moose should never be meese. You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice; yet the plural of house is houses, not hice. If the plural of man is always called men, why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen? If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet, and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet? If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth, why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth? Then one may be that, and three would be those, yet hat in the plural would never be hose, and the plural of cat is cats, not cose. We speak of a brother and also of brethren, but though we say mother, we never say methren. Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him, but imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim. Some other reasons to be grateful if you grew up speaking English: 1) The bandage was wound around the wound. 2) The farm was used to produce produce. 3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse. 4) We must polish the Polish furniture. 5) He could lead if he would get the lead out. 6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert. 7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present. At the Army base, a bass was painted on the head of a bass drum. 9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes. 10) I did not object to the object. 11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid. 12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row. 13) They were too close to the door to close it. 14) The buck does funny things when the does are present. 15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line. 16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow. 17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail. 18) After a number of Novocain injections, my jaw got number. 19) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear. 20) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests. 21) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend? 22) I spent last evening evening out a pile of dirt. Screwy pronunciations can mess up your mind! For example... If you have a rough cough, climbing can be tough when going through the bough on a tree! Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly,boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wiseguy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out, and in which an alarm goes off by going on. If Dad is Pop, how's come Mom isn't Mop?

In the early '60's too. Graduation night 1960. Dancing with Sandi Lee. The Platters, Smoke Gets In Your Eyes. God, I miss her.....

Spelling, schmelling..... Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at an Elingsh uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht frist and lsat ltteer is at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a toatl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae we do not raed ervey lteter by it slef but the wrod as a wlohe.

I just used my fingers/hands Adam. I was so good that I didn't need all that "other stuff" 🙂

Beyond closing time really doesn't matter. You're either hooked-up by then or you're not. If you're not then it's all a moot point. But if you are, what really matters is what she looks like when you wake up in the morning.

You really don't need the math. Just remember that the more you drink the better she looks. And, as Mickey says, all the girls get prettier at closing time...even if you're stone sober.

You should be aware of the Beer Goggles Effect John. The "Beer Goggles" Effect: In 2002, researchers at St. Andrews University and Glasgow University in Scotland took 80 college students and had half of them drink a "moderate" amount of alcohol -- between one and four servings, depending on gender and body weight. The other half, the control group, remained sober. Scientists showed each subject pictures of people of the opposite sex. In all cases -- male and female alike -- the experimental (tipsy) group rated each picture an average of 25 percent more attractive than the sober group did. The effect can reportedly be traced to the nucleus accumbens. When you're looking at another human being, the nucleus accumbens is the area of the brain that decides how attractive that human being's face is. If you look at, say, George Clooney or Angelina Jolie, this area of your brain probably experiences increased neural firing. In other words, it's stimulated. As it turns out, alcohol, all by itself, stimulates the nucleus accumbens. So when you've have a few drinks, and you look at a face you may have judged as unattractive when you were sober, your brain, under the influence of alcohol, tells you that this face is in fact somewhat attractive. And the increase in perceived attractive seems to be directly proportional to the amount of alcohol consumed. In a more recent study, this one conducted by researchers at England's Manchester University in 2005, scientists actually came up with a mathematical formula to calculate the extent of the "beer goggle" effect on a given individual in a given situation. Their reasoning for creating this formula is that alcohol is not really the only factor affecting the drunken perception of beauty. Other factors, according to their research, include: How brightly lit the area is The observer's eye-sight quality The amount of smoke in the air The distance of the observer from the observed The formula goes like this: (An)2xd(S+1) g= ----------- L x (Vo)2 where: An is the number of servings of alcohol S is the smokiness of the area on a scale of 0 - 10 L is the lighting level of the area, measured in candelas per square meter, in which 150 is normal room lightning Vo is Snellen visual acuity, in which 6/6 is normal and 6/12 is the lower limit at which someone is able to drive d is the distance between the observer and the observed, measured in meters The formula works out a "beer goggle" score ranging from 1 to 100+. When g = 1, the observer is perceiving the same degree of beauty he or she would perceive in a sober state. At 100+, everybody in the room is a perfect 10.

I couldn't agree more Adam. I was the keyboard player in a rock band back in 1958-59. No one could have ever guessed where things were going. I'd give anything to live those days again. Here's my hero from the way back then (he plays the piano almost as good as I did 🤩).

Thanks Adam. Indeed, "music" today ain't what it used to be.

Here's my favorite Barbie.....

I'm in the United States and my picks are.....Magic Rock Unhuman Cannonball beer/Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon wine/Wilderness Trail Small Batch High Rye Bourbon Whiskey/and the best soft, by far, is Sandi Lee.

Thanks Gumby. That's about where I am also...........

Blonde. 5' 10". 38-23-35. Single and willing.

Having one of the female members of the flight staff sitting on my lap.

Thanks Wayne. I'm getting better slowly. I'm able to get around now without the walker but I can't walk too far because of fatigue. The head injury (brain bleed) has absorbed so no surgery was needed. I'm still a bit light-headed but I'm hopeful that that, too, will keep getting better. As they say, "Stuff Happens". It could have been worse. I'm 81 years old and, thank God, there was no damage to my hips. And life goes on..........Doug

Five months ago I had a major fall while on a Carribean cruise. I turned into a jumble of fractured/displaced bones. Sternum, right scapula, and 14 ribs. The ships medical couldn't handle it so I was put ashore in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. I spent 6 days there in ICU and then it was decided that I was OK to travel home. They arranged for an air ambulance and I flew back to Orlando, Florida (a distance of 1009 miles). Once there I spent another three weeks in hospital. But enough of that. The point I want to make is to be sure that you have travel insurance and be sure it will cover the expenses of getting you home. In my case I was able to get home for the low, low price of USD$27,000. And, thank goodness, it was all covered by my insurance. (I can't even imagine the cost if was in Australia). I hope none of you ever have to go through something similar but I thought I'd post this just as a for-what-it's-worth...........Doug