Did you use your weekend wisely, Wolf?

“Sunday evening.  So sorry, Wolf. Guess what tomorrow is?”

“Don’t be a goof, Minnie.  Yes, tomorrow is Monday.  So what?”

“It’s supposed to be a rainy day.  You have been known to say rainy days and Mondays always get you down.”

“I say a lot of crazy things. I can’t help it.  It’s my nature.  However, for once, I welcome the rain.  The grass is getting crunchy.”

“Did you use your weekend wisely, Wolf?”

“What the hell?  Of course not. I did what I felt like doing.  That’s the beauty of a weekend.”

“Don’t you think you should be out in the yard, planting flowers, mulching and mowing?”

“You are joking, right?  I had my hands full, going shopping, and frying chicken all afternoon.  The damn chicken exhausted me.”

“It must be so sad to get old.”

“Yeah. So sad not out in the yard, shoveling mulch around in the heat and humidity.  So sorry, no tomatoes on the vine, this year.  Just hanging around, in the house, in my old age, frying chicken and enjoying the heck out of it.”

“You could just buy fried chicken.”

“Yup.  And I could just buy flowers and tomatoes.  Maybe, just maybe, when I retire, and I don’t have to wait for a weekend to do what I want, I will get a puppy and plant a pumpkin.”

“Why not now?”

“The cats, Minnie.  You know they would never put up with a dog, those vicious beasts.”

“Well then, the pumpkin.”

“No, the squirrels and rabbits, Minnie.  You know they would eat the seeds.  Look what they did to the 300 tulips I planted.”

“Do you have any of that fried chicken left, Wolf?  I am hungry.”

“Help yourself, Minnie.  It is the best damn fried buttermilk chicken in the universe. So good, in fact, that the cats are crazy about it. Good luck trying to eat it by yourself.”

“Are you using the cats as an excuse not to do anything productive, Wolf?  Are they your new scape goats?”

“Excuse me, but have you looked outside,  Minnie?  Torrential rain, hail and high winds.  Are the cats in?”

“Yes, they are, and when I went to look outside, they ate my fried chicken.”



Blinded by the light

Waited for the earthquake this morning.  11:48am.

I was in my car, driving to the grocery/liquor store when a slight quake hit.

I immediately pulled over into a local establishment’s parking lot.

Luckily, it had just opened.

Hurry!  A double screw driver please.

What’s the hurry, Chicken Butt?

Don’t ask.  Just pour.  Pour me., pour me, pour me another.

The bar started shaking, the room was quaking, and I wasn’t faking.

And then, a bolt of lightning flashed out of the South.

I was blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce,
another runner in the night.

11:49am:  News alert:  CNN:  A rare earthquake occurred in the village of Emmaus PA today at 1148am.  Looters stormed the bakery and ate all the buns.  No one was hurt, but a local woman was seen wearing a raven’s hat and walking her cat in the vicinity of 2nd street, eating a boston cream doughnut.  Her cat was singing “Happy Birthday” to her.

The cat appeared to be normal.











A week in May, 2015

Quotes from the week of May 25, 2015:

I am in an aircast at Shady Maple. And yes, there are stairs.  But Jess is carrying me down to the gift shop to buy feta cheese and weed.

My wiener dogs are humping.  What? Yes, they are both male. Why?  Dominance.  Huh?  After all, they are wieners.

Hold on Emmaus.  The earth will be shaking and quaking, at 11:43 tomorrow morning.

I need to buy a b’zillion bananas this weekend. I am babysitting Gabe.

Jackie?  Sophia?  Is it really your last day? Can we discuss? Can you reconsider?

I should have known that an active hive is a wild hive, motivated by a blonde, blue eyed queen.

Your doctor has moved on.  You are now doctor-less.  You have a couple of major issues.  One:  you are an old goat.  two:  You are getting older.  Three:  You need to go on a strict regimen of healthy living.  Four: Where are you?  What the hell?  Did you stop at the bar again?

A baby is soon to be born.  Heather hopes it is soon.   A baby was just born.  Congrats, to the grands, Snow and George.  A baby is soon to be flown to Allentown.  Hey, Liz and Brian, Enjoy!  Mammas, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys.  You know what Mammas?  Let them be what they want to be.

It was a very long week, for a short week.

I am taking the long road home next week.

I love NYC.








She was back today.

It’s always great when she returns from vacation.

Somehow, the ambience changes when she returns.

We breathe a sigh of relief.

We know everything will be ok.

How does she know so much?  About everything?

And such a cutie.

Long reddish brown hair.

Oh yeah, and bangs.

And she is never, never, never, crabby.

Oh? She has a new puppy?

A chocolate lab?

What a wonderful addition to her happy family.

I feel the need to climb the highest mountain

To fill the earth and sky with fanfare.

Our princess is on her way to the throne.

We can’t be happier, for her.

Or sadder, for us.

She is amazing, adorable and quite a character.

Our lives have been enriched by her presence.

Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Enjoy your journey, PP Princess.

It’s bound to be a wild, crazy and successful ride.

Our very best wishes!







In my life time, there are statements that have had special meanings, which I will always recall, and remember, where I was, who I was and what I was, at the time:

… “From Dallas, Texas, the flash — apparently official — President Kennedy died at 1 p.m. Central Standard time, 2 o’clock Eastern Standard time . . . some 38 minutes ago.”

“Hell no, we won’t go.”

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer.”

“Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi.”

“I am not a crook.”

“Can’t we all just get along?”

“I did not have sex with that woman.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“The 2nd tower has been hit.”

“Baby Jessica is alive.”

“OJ is found not guilty.”

“I do.”

“You are so beautiful to me.”

“Let’s dance.”

“Can someone please take me out back and shoot me?”

“Guess what?  What?  Chicken Butt.”

“Love is never having to say you are sorry.”

“Ain’t life grand?”

“Let’s get stoned.”

“Hooper Humperdink?  Not him!”

“And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight…..”

“I have miles to go before I sleep.”









Hellooooooooooooooooooo fellow idiots.

Hellooooooooooooooooooo fellow bloggers.

Helllllllllllloooooooooooooooooooooooooooo fellow random goofs.

Hey, let’s get together and party.

Oh, we could get serious and write about something that could change the world.

And just would that might be?

We could meet in Times Square on a Thursday night, and reflect on the cowboy’s navel.

Or we could float down the Mississippi River, from Hannibal, MO to N’Orleans, and pretend we are Shania Twain.

Why not go to Africa, where we could bless the rains?

Oh yeah and then there is the raven,  who quotes “never more.”  WTF?

A fence, you say?  Put up a fence, Robert Frost or a parking lot, you counting crows.  Or was that you, Joni Mitchell?

You and I: Hey you, hey me.  My endless love.

Don’ t let your babies grow up to be cowboys

If I saw you in heaven, would you still remember me?

Not really.  I met a gin soaked bar room queen in Memphis.

The closest I have been to living my life?

A play?  2 sentences that sum up my life:

“EMILY: “Does anyone ever realize life while they live it…every, every minute?”

STAGE MANAGER: “No. Saints and poets maybe…they do some.”
Thornton Wilder, Our Town





June newsletter

June newsletter:  Read it and weep.  Just kidding.

Hey there.

Bet you couldn’t wait for the June news.

It’s the unofficial start of summer.

How do I know?

The geese are gone.

The weather is nice and toasty.

Red wine is being replaced by Margaritas and blue moons.

And we all can’t wait to get back to work after the long weekend.

I thought it would be a nice change to gossip this month, instead of writing about work related items.

I mean, what the hell?

Did you hear?

MCat is turning again, and I don’t mean her cat’s dish.

Pat’s bees are swarming their asses off.   I guess bees have asses.  Noisy ones, at that.

Candis is losing her crown.  There she was the queen of the lunatics, and she willingly gave it up.

According to Oscar, Candis did this knowingly.

Beav fell again.  It was a lovely spring night, and she was wearing those ridiculous slippers outside, in the back yard, with her coloring book, and wine.  Poor Jess.  Married less than a year, and already she has to watch the Beav like a hawk.

E has a new job, in addition to her normal routine.  Social director of the parties.  She is in training, obviously, and spends her lunch hours at the super market, scouting out the lettuce, the half prices cakes, cookies and doughnuts.  She has no choice, but to do this:  Bethlehem has a shortage of lettuce, half priced pastries and parking spaces.

Karissa has 2 wieners now.  Come on.  Isn’t one enough?

Kelly was seen imitating Tara, on her first day of her new job.  She was wearing high heels and was carrying a purse.  We need to get that act on video for our next Town Hall meeting.

Strange, but true: Liz and Kat were seen in the office, walking around with whipped cream on a plate.  No pie, no ice cream, just whipped cream.  Yes, folks, we have some kinky managers around this place.

The chicken butt is back from her trip to the northland.  She had not seen her family in several years, so she decided to make a good impression.  Too bad she got loaded and wore that damn chicken hat to the family dinner.

Until next time,








Freeze the geezer

“Bliss, Minnie.  Warm weather, hanging out, in my pjs, feeling mellow.  Life is good.”

“And you have another day off.”

“Yes, if only I can do something productive….”

“I highly doubt that.  You seem to be in one of your lazy, crazy moods, with most of your energy spent lifting your glass of Irish cream.”

“I had some disturbing news yesterday, Minnie, and I need to reflect on my situation.”

“What now?”

“My new doctor.  She decided to leave the practice.  She is moving on.”

“Now, isn’t that special?  After she diagnosed you with an “ugly” disease, which has yet to be determined. So you have to find a new doctor, after all those tests?   What the hell?”

“Yeah.  I guess life is terminal.  At least I am beginning to realize that.  I have a few issues, any of which can kill me at a moment’s notice.  However, that can be said of any of us. I am in therapy, now, to determine if I want to give life my best shot or to take it easy, and slowly fade away.”

“Therapy?  Since when?”

“Since today.  Doctor Bailey and I are in serious discussions and consultations.”

“Oh for crazy!”

“His white lightning seems to be a soothing balm to what ails me.”

“You are so full of it, it is ridiculous.”

“You know, they say, attitude is everything.  If you think you are fabulous,  you are fabulous.”

“That is what is known as grandiosity in the rehab world.  All drunks think they are fabulous.”

“I love fabulous drunks, Minnie.”

“I think it might be time for Doc Bailey to end his consultation with you for today, Wolf.”

“Settle down.  He is leaving, and Doctor Coors just called. He wants me to cook up his weiner for him, with chili sauce.”

“Oh for stupid!”

“Would you like to join us?  We are roasting his weenie, along with mine.  And if you would like one, we can roast yours too.”

“No thanks, my weenie was roasted years ago.”

“Oh?  I had no idea.  I am so sorry!”

“Shut up Wolf.  Hey, Dr. Coors is here.  Now what?”

“Get me a cold one, will you, please?  It’s in the freezer, along with the geezer.  I mean, wiener.”






Let freedom ring

Memorial Day Weekend.

Hot dogs.

Potato Salad.



Stars and stripes.

Our beloved flag.

Wreaths in the cemetery.

Faded photos of our troops….

in Korea, Viet Nam, Germany, Japan and Iraq.

Thanking those who fought for our way of life.

And for those who continue the fight.

Hoping and praying for peace,

Ever vigilant,

Willing to sacrifice,

Proudly protecting our country,

Our young men and women,

Serving courageously.

Giving thanks for those who sacrificed their lives.

Reminding us of the words of Abraham Lincoln, in 1863:


.”that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”



Half priced cookies, bloomers and lettuce

“Have you ever seen a grown man naked?”

“Oh no, here we go again.  You know, Wolf, most people have no idea what you mean when you ask that question.”

“I only ask it when I am slightly tipsy, you idiot.”

“Are you calling me an idiot?”

“Yes, an idiot chicken.  Just like Erica.  She waltzes in at 330pm, after spending her lunch hour at the grocery store, looking for half priced cookies,  lettuce and other unmentionables.  When she returns to work, she looks like she has been racing around the store, in her sweats and bloomers.  Her cheeks have turned a rare color of crimson and she insists that we have turned up the heat.  Her phone rings.  She stares at it and asks, “What?  What do you want from me?  Mother of God.  Can’t you leave me alone?”


“And she answers it..  Hi!!!!!!!  It’s me, Erica!!!!!!! How can I help you?”

“Then what?”

“Then the Beaver, the Princess, the Grouch and the Chicken Butt laugh their asses off, as they zoom into the twilight zone of customer service.  You see, the back room CSRs are professional idiots.  They know when to hold them, know when to fold them.  Masters of the art of control.  Yeah, they might cuss and shake their fists, releasing their frustration among friends, but when it comes to customer control, meet the masters!”

“So how do the 5 of you differ?”

“Let me explain in one word, for each of us.  OK?”


“Pat:  Detailed.

Miranda:  Directive.

Candis:  Precise.

Erica:  Diligent.

Chicken Butt:  Deranged.  ( but engaged).”

“And who is most successful?”

“We don’t compete on that level, Minnie. We are who we are, and the secret to our success is to find the customer who needs our special skills.”

“Does that really happen?”

“Yes, it does.  And when we curse and weep and gnash our teeth, we know, deep down, that we have been successful because we are well matched with our customers. As they say:  a good fit.  So, as some ask for a new account, a new job, a change, others would never want to give up those relationships.  There are those who truly love what they do, what they have and what they are.  It makes me wonder:  Which is more fulfilling?  Reaching for the stars?  Or truly loving what you are doing?”

“So, Wolf, in summary, what the hell are you really asking?”

“Have you ever seen a grown man naked, Minnie?”