Weekly Poll

Are you registered to vote?



April 10, 2014 7:19 am

MY LOUSY WORLD: A few more mindless thoughts

Written by Doug Blough

Some people blather on and on, jabbering forever on one subject. Not I.

I prattle just a short while, about any number of things — only hitting the highlights of each. That’s why I was voted Drone of the Year, Short Division, three years running. I won with such offerings as:

• If you stare at your thumb for a long time, (and why wouldn’t you?), it starts to look really weird. I’ve got to explore some hobbies.

• Speaking of weird, I get mad each time I hear “I before e except after c.” BALONIE! If it isn’t always true, why did someone make it their rule? It’s just plain weird and neither true nor rational either. What Einstein came up with that one anyway?

• A few columns back, I fessed up to sometime watching “The Bachelor.” I’m quite comfortable in my metro-sexuality, unlike Juan Pablo (if that is his real name), who French kisses each of 32 bachelorettes every two seconds to show he’s a cool, sexy stud. Makes me wanna puke!

Now, you might ask: “Doug, you’re a committed single man; would you consider looking for love as next season’s Bachelor?”

What, are you kidding? I can’t think of a worse nightmare than 32 first dates in a short time. One first date every 10 years is enough self-conscious torture! And instead of a handful of smirking, judging people watching, there would be millions?

Quite frankly, I’d rather have 32 first STDs.

• I finally went back to work recently for the first job in several months and was a little rusty. I accidentally missed my thumb and hit a nail with my hammer twice.

• I’m thankful I’m the original owner of my townhouse so no ghost could have a legitimate excuse for hanging out and haunting me.

If I saw a menacing apparition, I would simply plead, “Look, there has never been a murder in this house, so please leave.” And then I would faint and soil myself.

• Said one Hollsopple, Pa., guy to another: “Hey, were the roads slippy when yous went to worsh clothes at the crick?”

Answered the other: “Nah, we ran to Picksburg to watch the Parrots play the Red Sox. Actually the keller of their socks were more yellah than red, ya know? So where did yins go?”

Answered the first Pennsylvanian derisively: “I stayed home and drank a bottle of pop. And by the way, ya sure say ‘yous’ weird.”

• I think hard-boiled eggs that don’t peel correctly symbolize the punishments for Adam’s original sin.

God said “From this day forward woman will have painful, yucky childbirth and man’s eggs will peel unevenly, leaving a misshapen, less-than-full egg.”

• I double-date dare you to get a Beatles song out of your head after hearing it.

I had “I Saw Her Standing There” lodged in my gourd for the better part of a day the other night. I could barely sleep, making it a hard day’s night.

• I’m legendary for my total lack of mechanical ability, but the other day I realized just how bad it is when I struggled mightily to attach a Swiffer Duster to the enclosed bent wand.

I couldn’t find the openings that the two-prongs slide into, nor could I figure out which side of the duster goes up. I became even angrier when the directions on the box left me more confused than ever.

Next to hopelessly baffle me was opening a simple, $1.50 “Renuzit” house deodorizer/ (Yeah, like that’s gonna cut through this putridocity — a new word I’ve coined). It said “Open on perforation,” but I saw no perforation — a seam, but no perforation.

Finally I just started violently ripping and tearing till the fancy paper came off the plain white oval.

“Grab top and twist … lift to open?”

OK, do I lift it all the way off, or partially where it catches the groove, exposing an inch of what looks like scented candle material but has little if any aroma.

It’s been days and I still don’t know if I did it correctly. I may scrap my plans for tearing my engine apart and putting it back together!

• As deceptively brilliant as I am, I still get mixed up on which century we’re in; (20th or 21st?) and how many states, (50 or 52)? I’m sure I’m not the only one who gets confused on these; there must be at least one other.

• Pope Francis seems cool and hip. One wonders, will there ever be a Pope Barney?

• Fish oil makes the heart grow stronger. No, wait: I meant absence makes the heart grow fonder.

So until the next time, I bid you firewall …

Leave a comment

*The Powell Tribune reserves the right to remove inappropriate comments.