Randumb Thoughts

FROM JOAN RIVERS: "If it were up to me, former football coach Jerry Sandusky would be going straight from Penn State to the State Penn" . . . Christian radio broadcaster Harold Camping has apologized for telling listeners the world would end in the Rapture, first on May 21st, then Oct. 21st. Camping said he was getting out of the prediction business and retiring. He better hurry, because you never know when --- oh, never mind . . . Look who's gotten a bump in the polls since Herman Cain's problems: Newt Gingrich! This guy is so toxic, his baggage comes with baggage . . . I mean, really : A 747 has less baggage! . . . Reaction to my so-called efforts here is pouring in, and it runs the gamut: "Obvious, jejune and unsophisticated"; "Mr. Schneider's muse is unfettered by such inhibiting factors as basic manners and good taste"; "mostly stolen and depressingly mundane", and "apparently knows the correct position of letters and numbers on the keyboard." Obviously I'm very encouraged . . . If you really do like my work, please send me a donation made out to the California Association for the Severely Handicapped. Feel free to abbreviate, making the check to C.A.S.H . . .  Did you know that on the opening day of the baseball season, half the teams that play lose? Not trying to bum you out, just reporting . . . Remember this old song? "You must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss". Should we update this to " a tweet is just a tweet'? . . . Oops! Do- gooding British police busted open a car window to release what they thought was a baby trapped inside. Turned out it was a very realistic-looking doll.

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 POLI-TICKLE: This time we start by focusing on President Lyndon Johnson, a man not noted for his sense of humor. But this column does it's homework! We begin with his 1948 senate campaign. This campaign earned Johnson the moniker "Landslide Lyndon". He won by about 1,000 votes. There is an argument that he was elected by a lot of dead people. Somewhat in desperation, Johnson told his press aide to put out a story saying his opponent slept with his pigs. "Mr. Johnson", said the aide. "You know that isn't true. How can we possibly say that?". Johnson reportedly replied: "Hell, I don't care if it's true. I just want to watch him deny it!" . . . When he was President, a leader from a small third-world country came for a state visit. "Oh, Mr. President," the leader said. "I have so much respect and admiration for you; coming from your poor background and being born in a log cabin." "Son, said the President, "you have me confused with Abraham Lincoln. I was born in a manger" . . . After leaving the presidency, he supervised the construction of the Johnson library. He came across the workers preparing his mausoleum. "Now don't dig too deep, boys," admonished the Prez. "I only plan to be down there three days" . . . Other Presidents, other things: I've mentioned before President "Silent Cal" Coolidge. Reporters met him one Sunday. "Been to church, Mr. President?" "Yep." "Did you enjoy the sermon?" "Yep." "What did the preacher talk about?" "Sin". Ánd what did he say?" "He's against it."

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THERE WAS an old lady from Wooster

Who was often annoyed by a rooster,

She cut off his head

Until he was dead

And now he can't crow like he uster."-Author unknown.

HEY, NOBODY PUT a gun to your head and forced you to read this. But watch out, because if that'll get me more readers . . . Kid comes home from school one day. His mom asks what his teacher had to say about his poor grades. "Should I leave out the swear words?" inquire the kid, "Of course.", says mom. Retorts the kid: "he didn't say a thing" . . . Speaking of reader(s), I want to assure all of you that the incident between myself, the cattle truck, the Christian Science Reading Room and the youth organization has been peacefully settled. Also the cannibalism problem is relatively under control . . . Flipping thru the TV magazine, I note there is a channel for Golf. What is this, a station for drunks? Don't get me wrong, golf is good exercise, being outdoors and all that. But whoinevvin's name would want to WATCH it? What's next, the fishing channel? . . . How come he never tells any feelgood stories? Okay --- Victor Giesbrecht, 61, stopped on a Wisconsin highway to help a stranger, Sara Berg, change a tire. After he drove off, Giesbrecht suffered a heart attack; Berg then stopped her car and saved his life by performing CPR. Aww.

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Fellow in Indonesia is in prison for stealing $250,000 in lottery tickets. You might say he's in a lottery trouble( Okay, quit shoving. I was leaving anyway).



The Smorgasboard

IN THE WIDE WORLD of sports, this just in, a partial score: Boston, 6 . . . Have you seen the ad for  a brand spanking new two dollar bill? Only ten bucks! But there's more! Act right now and we'll throw in another $2 bill  --- no extra charge! So I send them ten bucks, they refund me four. Only a Washington politician could have thought up this ad campaign . . . Dad says to his smart-aleck kid  at dinner:" One more bite like that and I'll put you down from the table." Kid retorts: "One more bite like that and I'll be finished." . . . Two brothers left home. One sailed off to sea, the other  became Vice President of the United States. Neither was ever heard from again . . . Not exactly a quick study dept: Michelle Astumiam of San Luis Obispo, Calif., was accused of forging prescription drugs and ordered to show up in court. She appeared at the appointed time with a doctor's note asking that her sentence be delayed. The note was --- you guessed it --- forged . . . Way to go, Mr. P: President Obama accepted an award for supporting government transparency. The award was accepted at a private ceremony. The media and public were not allowed to attend . . . Groucho Marx, interviewing a contestant on his old TV show: "It says here you have nine children. NINE children? How do you explain that?" "Well, Groucho, sez the contestant, "I love my wife." Retorts Groucho:"I like my cigar, too, but I take it out once in a while." Needless to say, that line didn't make the final cut . . . Poli-tickle: "I think all right-thinking people in this country are sick and tired of being told that ordinary, decent people of this country are fed up with being sick and tired. I'm certainly not. And I'm sick and tired of being told I am". A tip of my chrome dome to John Cleese of Monty Pythom fame for that zinger . . . There's a new toilet bowl cleaner out. Its name? KABOOM! How long do you think it will take for the manufacturer to figure out what a poor choice of titles this is on so many different levels? . . . Here's how low-tech I am: A friend asked me t'other day if my cell phone took pictures. "No", I replied. "And my camera doesn't make phone calls."

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SHOOTING FROM THE LIP: Have you gotten a load of all the weight-loss ads? Lose up to 300 lbs  IN 48 HOURS!*(*Results not typical) says an ad for Weight Begone. My father had a pretty succinct opinion on this matter: "there is only one way to lose weight. You need to take in less calories than you burn, period. If you do that, no matter how you do it, you will lose weight." Being the smart alec teenager I was, I said: "So you can do it with candy?" "Yes, you can," responded my father, giving me a playful kidney punch. These ads show a picture of a nice juicy cheeseburger or an enticing slice of cheesecake. What they fail to show you is that the photo has been enlarged to about 300% bigger that comfortably shows the product barely covering a person's little finger. Then there's the obligatory before and after pictures. In the before picture someone is wearing sweats, indoors, carrying a can of soda and not looking at all happy. In the NEXT  picture, She/He is out on the beach, having a great time in their form-fitting bikini or bathing suit. What they NEVER show you is the really after picture, where they've gained back all the weight and more. They're wearing the sweats again, but in addition to the coke a bag of chips has been added. Their belly now comfortably keeps their toes warm. Study after study shows that 85 or 90% of folks that try these fad diets end up going all the weight back plus more. Do you think this exercise in self fluggelation has value at all? I can't think of any. Neither could my dad, and he was a pretty smart guy.

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A TIMELESS POEM deliverd by the late Jimmy Steward on Johny Carson's old tonight Show: I love old lake Wanacoochie; it's surface is smooth as glass. But GETTING to late Wanacoochie is a real pain in the " . . . eh, caboose" . . . So the baseball season starts in April. And we all know what that means, don't we? By April 15th the Mets will be mathematically eliminated from the playoffs . . . One thing about baldness --- it's neat . . . A Settler is heading out west back in the 1830's. He stops in a small prarie town. Seeking out the local church, he goes in, shakes hands with the pastor, and confesses: "Father, I am so frightened. I've been told there are horrible fires, devastating earthquakes, and fierce Indians. I'm scared of what awaits me." The pastor, who has been calmly polishing his musket the entire time, says: "Son, I believe in God. When it's my time, God will call me. I'm not frightened of anything." "That's very reassuring, Father, "says the settler. "But if you're not scared of anything, why do you carry a gun?" "Who knows", responds the pastor. "Today may be the Indians' time." . . . I thought republicans had learned something from "Tricky Dick." But now they've iced the cake by giving us Nasty Newt."

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AUTHOR MALACHY McCOURT said it: "Resentment is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die."



Caution: You Are About To Enter A Really BIG Spin Zone

Caution:  You Are About To Enter A Really BIG Spin Zone

IS IT JUST ME, Or does Mitt Romney look like a guy that should be doing ads for erectile dysfunction? . . 70's movie "Oh God". "Take avocadoes", deadpaned Burns. "I made the pits too big." Not a good idea to argue with God.  Also a great idea to watch this movie ---  one of the greatest talents of the 20th century . . . Another GOP first! Mitt Romney is the only presidential candidate in history to be named after a glove . . . Lyndon Johnson said it: "You can't make chicken salad with chicken manure "(Okay, he used a more earthy word for manure, but you get the idea) . . . Out of the mouths of babes comes drool . . . I'm so glad I wasn't born a female. If I was , I'd just stay home and play with my breast all day . . . This week is the late Ed Sullivan's birthday.  Don't forget to wear a really big shoe; and if you're old  enough to get that joke, I hope you're taking good care of yourself . . . I do not consider myself a pessimist, but rather an optimist with high standards . . . Two friends meet. "What's that you're putting in your vest, Jack?" Sez Jack: "It's a stick of dynamite. Every time that Riley sees me he slaps me a breaks all my cigars. Next time he tries it, he's gonna blow his hand off" . . . Reports says one out of every  50 drivers on the road is drunk. So what can you do? Easy. Count the cars. Pull over after every 49th car. You must start with a drunk driver, however, or you'll be all fouled up.

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              SPACE OCCUPIED:  Do you remember Barry Goldwater's 1964 campaign slogan," In your  heart, you know he's right"?  This is how I feel about the Occupy Wall Street movement. It's not easy to explain why I identify with these folks in a logical way, but I have an almost visceral bond and empathetic feel for them. Having just said I like them for reasons inexplicable logically, I will attempt to explain these feelings in words, for two reasons: 1) Its needs to be talked about, and B) I'm a know it all smart aleck. I'm not sure regular folks are 99%, but 99% is a whole lot catchier than, say, 96%. The gap between the well off and everybody else has increased dramatically over the last few decades. I have friends whose kids have college degrees and the best they can do is get a job as a grocery clerk. That's perfectly all-american work, but they aren't achieving their dreams. Why? Because large businesses, which have been astonishly profitable, are sitting on their profits, parking them in overseas banks and outsourcing jobs to other countries without minimum wage and benefits. Who's responsible?  Republicans?  Democrats?  Is there really a dime's worth of difference between what's being delivered by either of the parties? My dad used to tell me he hoped I'd be able to do better than his generation.  Most of my friends were told the same thing. What's happened to that? OWS seems to be saying: It's OUR country --- let's take it back. Bless 'em all. It's exactly the right message. They aren't a bunch of chronic malcontents. They're not just occupying Wall Street. They're also occupying a portion of many of our hearts.

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SURLY WITH THE FRINGE ON TOP: Word has it Sen. John McCain wants to start a third party called the "Fed Up" Party. I thought most of us were already fed up with Sen. McCain . . . Speaking of another Cain, Herman's rambling and ever-changing explanations are proof that Cleopatra is not the only Queen of DeNile.   Bottom line: Is Cain Able?  Personalities like him help keep guys like me off the streets, and trust me, that's what you want . . . I like Sarah Palin's line: What's the difference between a soccer mom and a pit bull? Soccer moms wear lipstick . . . My advice to OWS: Hungry? Eat a banker! . . . Scientific study sez gas pump handles are the most germ-infested surface that American touch in their everyday lives. Makes a good case for using the full-service pumps,  if you can find one  . . .  How the 2012 campaign shaping up, if you listen to Keith Olberman: "The blood is in the water, and the sharks are bipartisan" . . . A young man in Colorado Springs met a woman online and invited her to his home for a little rendezvous.  Unfortunately  his girlfriend paid an unexpected visit. Thinking quickly, he told g.f. that the other woman was a burglar, and called the cops to report same.  Result? He is charged with false reporting to authorities.

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FROM HUMORIST P.J. O'ROURKE:  "Everyone wants to save the earth. Nobody wants to help mom to do the dishes."



Some  Thoughts About Censorship, or Maybe Not

“We need censorship in this country because there is always the danger of something being said” ---  Pat Paulson, editorial reader on the old Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, circa 1967.

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AH, THE GOOD old days, when we were young, didn't have any money, and everybody told us what to do --- I mean, when all things seemed possible, including the radical notion of free speech.  We can say dirty words now.  In case you're longing for locker room jokes and noises, they're all over the ubiquitous B-movies on Comedy Central.  This is the free speech we fought for? I also don't have any interest in being known as a grumpy old guy.  Citing Comedy again, the Daily Show and the Colbert Report represent political satire the Smothers Brothers couldn't have dreamed of getting away with forty years ago. So all has not been in vain.  What gets my panties in a bunch (whoops!--- here I go already!) is how politically and socially correct we're expected to be in discussion of these topics.  An analogy: My Pop, a proud veteran of what he used to refer to as "The Big one---WWII" loved to tell jokes.  In the sixties, it was Italian jokes.  Then it was Polish jokes.  Then we got into dumb blonde jokes, drunk jokes, you name it. Pop had a simple standard: It had to be funny.  One of this favorites: An Italian, a Jew, and a fellow from India are taking a weekend drive in the countryside when their car breaks down.   Unable to fix it, particularly given the ethnic makeup (if you aren't thoroughly offended yet, best stop now), they spot a farmhouse in the distance. They go and knock on the door. The farmer answers, invites them in and says "You're welcome to stay, but I only have two spare beds.  One of you will have to sleep in the barn."  "No problem" says the guy from Israel.  "I'll go sleep in the barn." He exits, everybody settles down and starts to doze.  Comes a knock on the door; it's the Jew. "I'm sorry," he says."We keep Kosher in my family, and there's a pig in the barn, I can't sleep there." "It's alright", says the Indian gent. "I'll go sleep in the barn." So he goes out; again everybody settles down.  Another knock on the door, this time the fellow from India.  "I didn't realize there'd be a cow in the barn, my bad.  In my country the cow is a sacred animal." Indignant, the Italian speaks up. "Whassamada with you two? I'll go sleep in the barn".  Same drill, and sure enough, another knock on the door.  This time it's the cow and the pig.

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SO WHAT'S THE MATTER with this joke, other than the fact that depending on how many people I've been exposed to, I have deeply offended at least two ethnic groups?  I would include the Italians, but they aren't even organized well enough to keep their own government together much more than a year at a time.  That should make it a clean sweep for me.  And therein lies my point.  THE JOKE IS FUNNY! It is also hideously incorrect, politically and socially.  SO WHAT? Pop was half Italian, and figured if he couldn't take a joke at his own expense, what right did he have getting on his high horse about other groups?  I was in food service, which to the best of my knowledge it's still fine to make fun of.  It's never bothered me. Heck, When Jesse Jackson referred to New York as "Hymietown" about 25 years ago, THAT was offensive.  A small part of me can forgive him, I guess (open mike; public figures say dumb things), but sorry, Jesse--- over the top.  Much classier the way President Reagan handled  his open mike before his Saturday morning radio address: "My fellow Americans, I've just signed legislation outlawing the Soviet Union.  Bombing begins in five minutes." Now THAT was funny.

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WHICH BRINGS ME TO my Mission Statement:  My objective is to be as politically incorrect as possible, within the parameters of good taste and libel law. I'm not only proud of this. I'm smug about it. So let's ice the cake with some pure sexism, courtesy of my bro (who, like dad, is an engineer--- go figure).  Guy approaches a lady at a party and sez: "Would you sleep with me for a million dollars?" "Sure, she exudes."Fine," he replies. "Would you sleep with for ten bucks?" "Of course not," she responds indignantly. " What kind of woman do you think I am?" "We've already established what kind of woman you are" the guy rejoinds, "Now we're just haggling over price."

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This piece runs a little short.  I'm being told it's time to shut up and move along.

    

HITHER, THITHER, AND YAWN

CURRENTLY DECEASED BUT nevertheless very talented British comedian Dudley Moore opens things up:  "Why is American beer like making love in a canoe? Because it's fucking close to water!" . . . And from very much alive and also very British comic Eddie Izzard:  "How do you suppose the appendix feels about Intelligent Design?" . . . Have you caught the prescription drug ads on T.V. lately? The first half of the commercial claims all the benefits of this brand new wonder drug.  Cures cholesterol! Restores stomach and bowel regularity! Eliminates depression! Gives you the libido of an eighteen year old! Pays your mortgage! Then the other portion of the ad, which is just as long as the first half, with all the same happy faces except they're talking twice as fast: don't take Cureitol if you are nursing, plan to become pregnant, or can potentially impregnate a woman (if you have this situation, try our new male birth control pill PregNot --- Be sure to read hideous warnings on label).  Have your doctor perform regular liver tests as our product is toxic to the liver.  While you're at it, might as well get regular heart, lung, kidney, and everything else checked up too. You can't be too careful if you're taking this stuff.  If you develop an erection that lasts more than four hours, get immediate medical attention (Ohgawd how I wish I'd EVER had this problem, but let's not go there).  If you have thoughts of harming yourself, call 911 immediately. Hallucinations may occur. Possibility of dizziness, drowsiness, itching, hives, rash and death. Do not drink alcohol in excess when taking this medication.  I am already drinking alcohol in excess to calm my nerves while just contemplating the risk of these drugs.

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POLI-TICKLE: President "Silent Cal" Coolidge led our nation through most of the roaring twenties.  I know many stories of him, often related to his carefully chosen words.  Once he was at a Washington Bistro (Yes, Presidents used to be able to go to them in those days!) A waitress approached him, and said: "Mr. President, I have a bet with my fellow waitresses that I can get you to say at least three words." Without missing a beat, the President replied "you lose" . . .  Do you recall the boxers vs. briefs-stuff that Governor Clinton was asked about in the heat of the 1992 campaign? Wow, what a highly-charged national security issue! Senator Bob Dole, the Republican nominee of 1996 and then aged 73, was asked the same question. The reported  response? "Depends" . . . How classy a response you can get? . . . President Harry Truman was once asked at a press conference what he thought of a Republican-sponsored piece of legislation then being proposed. "Horse manure", replied the President. A reporter caught up with first lady Bess Truman shortly after. "Mrs. Truman," he said respectfully. "your husband is the President of the United States!  How can you allow him to say those kind of words?" Mrs. Truman sighed and said "You have no idea how it took me to get him to say THAT" . . .  Otto Von Bismark, famed German statesman of the 19th century, once said: "making law is like making sausage. The end result maybe pleasing but you don't want to witness the process."

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SCHNIDE SCHTRIKES: You open the cereal box; no grapes, no nuts. What's up with that? . . .    All this fuss about second amendment.  Of course I'm against it. Why on earth would anybody want to arm bears? They can already do a lot damage by themselves. Whyinevvins name should we let them have guns?  Were the founding fathers drunk when they thought this one up?  Uh --- wait a sec --- I'm being told it's actually about bearing arms. Who could be against that? Bare legs, even bare feet, that's all fine with me. Heck, we shouldn't need an amendment about it . . . Have you heard about the organization D.A.M?  Stands for Mothers Against Dyslexia . . .  Good news on that front! Headline in paper t'other day: "Cure Dyslexia For Found" . . . My uncle Otto was dyslexic. The only word he could spell properly was his name . . . I get a kick out of the current canned soup promotional commercials: made with "farm grown" veggies.  As opposed to bus stations grown produce? . . .  nothing satisfies quitet like a fresh tomato from Downtown Farms . . . So Eve said: "Adam do you really love me?" and Adam replies: "Who else?" . . .  Have you seen new Denny's ad campaign featuring bacon and all the new ways they can serve it to you? Don't get me wrong,  I love bacon. It has all of the basic food groups: fat, salt, cholesterol and smoke. An extra bacon BLT? Great! Bacon meatloaf? Howdy Doody! A bacon sundae? Urp --- excuse me a minute. Methinks that by the time you read this, Denny's will have a new ad campaign.

              

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FROM WILL ROGERS: "Mixing politics and religion is like mixing manure and ice cream. It doesn't do much to the manure, but it surely does ruin the ice cream."

Today’s Big Steaming Pile of Moi

WHEN THE GREAT Joan Rivers was asked recently how she maintained her incredible figure, she replied: “I have a sensible shake for breakfast, a sensible shake for lunch, and plastic surgery for dinner.” . . . Completely politically incorrect joke, particularly given the current disaster in Japan, courtesy of my Very Own Pop, circa 1965. Who is Chicken Teriyaki? Give up? The last living kamikaze pilot . . . Told you it was politically incorrect, didn’t I? . . .  Flashback: the paper had an article t’other day that mentioned President Nixon’s 1969 speech that was directed, as he said, to the “great, silent majority” of Americans. I watched that speech. At the time, I was working for a paper named the Twain Harte Daily News. The boss was foolish enough to let me write my Schnide Remarks and, since I was also allowed to lay out the paper, I put my column on the front page. I asked how President Nixon could know what the silent majority was thinking, since the silent majority was --- silent? Took me 4 months but I managed to put the paper out of business . . . The Vatican has released a statement saying that “as a sovereign state” It will henceforth adopt a policy of being carbon-neutral. First, your popeship: “A Sovereign State”? IT’S A BUILDING! And you have issues with carbon? Last I checked, BABIES are carbon based.

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OUT OF MY MIND: Mr. Glen Beck, a popular T.V. and radio talk show host, fancies himself a God-fearing Christian, and had a few words to say about the recent tragedy in Japan. He cited, among other things the Book of Revelations in the Bible, wondering if the demise of human kind was at hand. In fairness, he said he wasn’t sure. How diplomatic of him!

Also, in fairness to visitors of this space, I know as much about the bible as The Creator Itself knew about nuclear physics. What little I DO know about the book of revelations makes it seem to me that God dictated it on a particularly bad hair day. As I’ve said before, there’s Nothing I don’t know Everything about. So let me assure you , it is NOT the end of the world. This is fact; not my opinion --- you can take it to the bank even though I said it. And while we’re on it, what’s with all this “God-fearing” psychobabble? I thought God was love. Wotinevvin’s name should anyone fear about THAT? I don’t know about you, but when I hear folks talk that way I get nervous. Or, as Harry Truman once put it, when people that aren’t members of the clergy come into your home and start aggressively Preaching The Word, it’s not a bad idea to make sure the smokehouse is locked up.

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JUST ASKING: How far do you think he would have gotten if his name had been “Biff” Hitler? . . . Why do we call them buildings? They’re already finished. Shouldn’t they be called builts? . . . Why does famed Ess Eff Giants closing pitcher Brian Wilson feel like he has anything to prove? Didn’t he give us more than enough when he wrote all those hit songs with the Beach Boys back in the 60’s? . . .

Howcomizzit nobody has invented “butt-flavored dog food”? I mean, how could it miss? . . . A personal homage to George Carlin: Why do we call it a warehouse? You don’t wear it, and it ain’t a house! . . . How could anybody “lose” Their temper? Who would volunteer for the task of finding it? . . . So Mary sez to Joseph: “We need to talk. Seems I’m pregnant.” An astonished Joseph responds: “How can that be possible? We haven’t had intercourse in at least 10 years.” “That’s the other thing, Mary tells him. You won’t believe who your father in law is.” If Joseph got a little bit weird about sex after he’d heard this bit of news, could you really blame him? . . . Is it just me, or does Pope John Paul II look not at all well lately?  And while we’re on it, in fairness, shouldn’t the pope after Jean Paul the 1^st have been named Pope George Ringo? C'mon, be fair . . . Did you know if you get some sandpaper and rub it up and down the inside of your nose until its raw and bleeding, and rip up 60 dollars and flush it down the toilet, it’s just like doing cocaine? Wow, a joke about cocaine! How quaint! . . . Guy walks into a bar carrying a duck. Bartender looks up and says: “Hey, you can’t bring that pig in here.” “It’s not a pig, it’s a duck,” responds the patron. Retorts the barkeep: “I was talking to the duck.”

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ICING THE CAKE: From those clever gents, the Monty Pythons, a sweet little poem:

I’ve a gouse and harden in the country,

An ace I pall my clone.

A treat I can replace to

When I beed to knee alone.

Catterfly and butterpillar perch on beafy lough.

And I listen to the dats and cogs

As they mark and they beow.

Yes waiture here is nunderful,

There is no weed for nerds.

While flutting by my windowsiller

Biny little tirds.

Catch Me If You Can

Did you know there’s a city in New Zealand named Christchurch? How non-denominational! What d’ya suppose its major industry is? . . . One of the challenges of trying to tell jokes when you’re sixty is : Am I still current? So from my good bud Blake Mackey, age 28, this Q & A: “Q. What do you call a black guy who flies a plane? A. A pilot, ya freakin’ racist!” . . . Ah, these kids today, with their weird clothes and that crazy music . . . So Donald Trump is throwing his wig into the presidential ring. Sorry, not with my vote. Trump slaps up risky hotels faster than an autistic kid at a monopoly board. If I want to vote for an offensive, ugly political whore, there’s always Palin . . . Fellow is sitting at a bar quietly enjoying his adult beverage when a young lady sits down next to him. “Sir, this is your lucky day,” she asserts. “For two hundred dollars I’ll do anything you want.” “Anything?” the guy asks incredulously. “Whatever your little heart desires.” He thinks it over for a minute, reaches into his wallet and hands over ten Jackson, which she accepts. “Okay, sweetheart”, she purrs, “what’ll it be?” Comes the reply : “I’d like you to paint my house.” . . . Have I adequately offended damn near all of you? If not, please read on.

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OUT OF MY MIND: Attn: Rush Limbaugh: Now-Sen. Al Franken was wrong. Unlike the title of his book, you are NOT a big, fat, idiot. Well, it does appear you have a fairly serious glandular disorder. But in no way do you suffer from any shortage in the IQ dept. You are exceptionally well informed on political and social issues in real time. You are enormously entertaining. Your sense of humor is second to none. And let’s face it—you’re right. Far right, but never the less right. Here’s my quandary with you and others of your ilk: Why all the hate talk? Why did you feel compelled to say, almost immediately after Mr. Obama’s inauguration, “I want this president to fail.”? What kind of an American would say that? And what’s with Newt Gingster, Huckleberry Fibb and the other birthers who assert that the president isn’t really one of us, having been born and raised in Kenya. We have this little requirement in our constitution, maybe you’ve heard about it. It was written by our founding fathers and says that only natural born citizens can be president. Seems to me the INS and/or FBI would have noticed if Mr. Obama’s papers weren’t in order. And he’s a Muslim? This would come as quite a shock to the members of his Christian church. Then we have congressperson Michelle Bachman. What a piece of work she is! According to her, the founding fathers settled the slavery issue. Move over, Abe Lincoln! Lexington and Concord, by the way, are in NEW HAMPSHIRE, not Massachussets,  like we all learned in grade school. I guess the state borders got re-drawn somewhere along the line and they forgot to tell the rest of us. If you’re going to serve in Congress, shouldn’t you know the basics of U.S. History? I console myself with the knowledge that these folks are nothing new. Most of us know about Sen. Joe McCarthy, the red-baiting demagogue of the 1950’s. The crows came home to roost for him, didn’t they? And let’s not forget newspaper baron William Randolph Hearst, who was not averse to writing front page editorials full of bile and venom against FDR, arguably the greatest president of the 20^th century. As Harry Truman once said (he was talking about a fellow named Richard Nixon) : “The American people can always spot a phony. It may take a while but they can always do it.” Since I’ve already dated myself, I’ll finish with a quote from songwriter and satirist Tom Lehrer, talking in 1965 about an event we used to observe called National Brotherhood Week: “There are people in this country who do not love their fellow human beings, and I HATE people like that!”

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HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL, Who plugged this guy in today? He ought to call it “Snipe Remarks”. Maybe I should switch to decaf . . . So let’s lighten up. I don’t merely love my daily newspaper, I buy two copies every day --- In case there’s an article I want to read twice . . . If Queen Elizabeth married Steve McQueen, (granted this would be difficult since he is currently dead, but bear with me) would her name then be Queen McQueen? . . . I call my gal pal my Credit Card Lover. Why? Because when it comes to romance, she has no interest until January of next year . . . San Francisco Chronicle gossip columnist Leah Garchick (best one of her breed in the country, I think) reports that NASA contractor Thom Stone said to a friend: “Of course there’s intelligent life in the rest of the universe.” His rationalle? “They haven’t tried to contact us, have they? . . . Media Update: The magazines Commentary and Dissent have merged. The new publication will be called Dissentary.

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AND FINALLY, from the late, great and much-missed George Carlin: “If it’s true that our species is alone in the universe, then I’d have to say the universe aimed rather low and settled for very little.”

A Few Words to You

About the Words From Me

WELCOME. AS STATED, what lies ahead for those of you interested/irritated/or of such dull existences that you continue to expose yourself to my ramblings are the (thankfully) exclusive brain droppings I plan to expel once, weakly. I’m a third generation San Franciscan (hence forth known as Ess Eff); that should give you an idea of what you’re in for. This, however, is tempered with a healthy dose of Oklahoma farm stock, a hardy, common-sense breed of species whose only questionable attribute is their choice of spouses and offspring. Don’t get me wrong; I have enormous respect and affection for both sides of the family tree but for the love of mike I’ll never understand how they produced a character like me. Well, that’s not entirely true. I understand HOW they did it. If they had explained it to me when I was, say, twelve, I swear I would have spent my entire adolescence vomiting. Thanks for sparing me, folks.

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A FEW OF YOU may be familiar with me, if you live in Ess Eff (I warned you didn’t I?). My prattlings used to appear in a now defunct but much missed paper call The City Star. To you who remember that all your going to get is a less polished and very poorly edited version of what you’ve already read. As to the rest of you, what exactly is in store? Fair question. Do any of you know the answer? Why is everybody looking at ME? If I knew, why would I ask? You folks are going to have to pay closer attention if you expect to keep up. Time waits for no one. There is no “off” position on the genius switch. So listen up because I’m not saying this stuff twice. I may not even say it once, but you’ll still be expected to understand what I’m on about. Well, okay. I guess a few hints would be simple fair play. Might as well cover politics first, since we love to get all hot and bothered about that particular spectator sport. I’m neither right wing nor left wing; the entire bird fascinates me. So expect me to comment as I expect you to vote: Early and often. To people such as Dick Cheney or Ralph Nader I probably won’t be your cup if tea. If President Carter or Reagan were to weigh in with their views, however, I would be most honored. The diff? The afore mentioned presidents always struck me as straight talking, inclusive people that felt positive about themselves and others, whereas the other two have a tendency to come across as --- how best to put this? --- Less than tolerant. I HATE people like that.

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THE COLUMN? Basically I tell jokes, ranging from the banal to the really stupid, but you won’t notice because I write very fast. I am a shameless thief. “Brain Droppings”, the title of a book written by George Carlin one of my mentors. “Ess Eff” is a direct rip from Herb Caen, my inspiration for becoming a writer. HE began by stealing from Walter Winchell so I guess I’m in fair-to-middlin’ company. I am sexty --- whoops! Freudian slip --- Hey, give me a break one can always hope. * * Can’t One?

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AND WAY TOO MUCH more about me: I was born in San Rafael, Moron County, November, 23 1950. My mother was in the middle of preparing Thanksgiving dinner at the time, a bit of family lore I have often been reminded of. “I must have been hungry” I tried to lamely explain. Don’t think she ever bought it. My father said that my entire birth from conception though post natal care cost seventy five bucks. During my challenging teenage years, he probably wondered more than once if it was money wisely spent. I came to reside in the city on April 12^th 1970, at the tender age of 19 (never have understood that phrase. Are you supposed to get to a tough age? Does it have to do with how well cooked you ought to be? Is well done the objective, because I’m not anywhere near that, and I’m certainly not ready to be burned to a crisp if that’s what’s next). My early years were undistinguished. First I was going to be the next William Randolph Hearst. Then I learned to play the piano. When the Beatles came along, I decided I could settle for that as a more modest goal. After all Hearst died when I was a year old but the Beatles were CURRENT. It all seemed very well thought out to me. Then came that April 12^th, 1970 I mentioned earlier. Landlords actually expected me to give them money to live in their building! Other Nazi pig outfits like the phone and electric companies expected the same! Didn’t they realize what a budding genius was walking among them? I wound up getting a job in a sandwich shop, working my way up to manager. Those unfortunate enough to come into my orbit referred to me as more of a mismanager, but I hold no grudges. Arson works better, and is a far more effective way of expressing my hurt little feelings. So that’s my story, or at least all I’m willing to admit to at this point.

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MOST OF MY COLUMNS will end with what I call “The Tag”, often a quote. This week it’s from

Oliver Stone: “I might as well be myself; everyone else is taken.” Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve gone through my share of suffering to get to this point in life. Now it’s your turn.