NOT 47, NOT 67 (WHATEVERINTHEHECK THAT IS) BUT 57.

I am a picky eater, but in this case, not like you think.  I PICK what I like to eat.  It is not based on your, other's stomach, suggestion, or, snobbishness in regard to my choices.

Looooooooooooooooooooooooooong after my bedtime, a 'friend', sent a short YouTube clip (Complete with a LOUD wake up DING) showing a Chicago Hot Dog Vendor... Serving a guy in a Boston Red Sox T-Shirt... a hot dog.  They have idle chit chat, then, the Boston dude grabs the ketchup and says "I'm going to put ketchup on it too."

The vendor, who probably tells his little kids which sports, sport teams to like, as well as strong suggestion to his spouse on exactly what time they eat at night, not to mention, which way she should hang the toilet paper, what kinda undies she wears, and when (and when not) her mom can come over.  He's incensed by the Bosox fan.

Incensed by this ridiculous lore that 'you can't put ketchup on a hot dog', shouts, "YOU CAN'T PUT KETCHUP ON A HOT DOG!"... and, as the Bostonian flips the top to the Heinz 57 bottle, the vendor draws his glock, points it at the poor dude....   Boston sees this, hollers "Can you help me officer?" to a passing cop.  Cop sees the vendor with his gun pointed, points his own gun at the vendor - at which point, the vendor pleads "HE'S GOING TO PUT KETCHUP ON HIS HOT DOG!".. .thus, the cop immediately switches the aim of his gun at the poor Red Sox fan,

Ludicrous, 'all in fun;, whadever... the guy does so anyways (puts ketchup on it), and as he does you hear the gun BOOM.... next clip shows Boston laying on the ground, his hot dog flown out of his hand as he falls...  How dare he threaten (snobbish) Custom, eat what he wants (NOT what we say he should eat. That.

Funny, ha ha, NO.

My first thought, close your ears, was, kiss my ass.  I'll eat what I want, not what you want me to eat.

Then, I Googled to learn 79% of the people agree it's OK to have ketchup on a hot dog.

Backing up even more......

"The Chicago "no ketchup" tradition isn't from one 

event but evolved from pride in quality ingredients, a desire to not overpower complex flavors, and a cultural pushback against masking subpar meat, especially during the Depression, leading to it becoming a symbol of true Chicago identity, with ketchup seen as childish or redundant with the dog's many other sweet, tangy, and spicy toppings." I say AI learned 'jibberish' adeptly.) And, I vote it's a damn snobby tradition.  "How dare you come to our City and put what you want on your food?"

EVEN WORSE...... my buddy who woke my ass up sending the YouTube video in the middle of the night is one of, THE BIGGEST ST. LOUIS CARDINAL's FANS, EVER. He lives in OK now, but, originally from Missouri - and recently we were disussing rivals... and I said "KU is by far the biggest rival in my book."  "Oh, I don't know Vic, I can't stand the Cubs more than that."  Yet, he wants to be the Food Critic for The Chicago Tribune?

I love going to the Royal's home games and watching the "Hot Dog Race".   Bottom of whatever inning, they have these three people dressed like Hot Dogs... one is Red (Ketchup) one is Yellow (Mustard) and one is Green (Relish.)  For three consecutive years, my role at the local golf course I work at, has been to purchase the condiments for the hot dog eaters at our big tourneys.  Due to observation the first couple years, I now always buy one small thing of relish... one big thing of Mustard, and TWO HUGE Things of Ketchup all based on popularity, who eats what.

Thus, when I do watch that Royal's Hot Dog race... .I've always rooted for Relish to win,  I like rooting for the underdog, mebbe pun intended.

NO MORE. GO KETCHUP!  TRIP THOSE BASTA'S IF YOU HAVE TO!!! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The dogs are hot, ready off the grill.  Pup?  Hand me that huge bottle of 57 wouldya?

Love, Victurd 

Bet me!

AI Overiew says,

"Bet me" (or, just, 'bet') is a modern slang for enthusiastic agreement, similar to saying "Okay."  "For sure." "You got it," or, "I'm down," showing confidence or accepting a challenge, often humorously, as in "Want to race to the car?"  

My name is Victor, I am, can be, a betaholic, among other addictive things.  At age 73, can't help it, or, moreso, don't wanna, don't care.

What usedta be "I'll race you to the thorn tree and back" as a kid, is now replaced by me, in my mobility scooter at WallyWorld, challenging fellow feeble scooter riding chums to "Wanna race from the meat aisle to the soda pop aisle?"  I've yet to have one take me up on the offer, but by golly, I would

What folows, is a hopefully brief recap of my betting 'skills', life, aspects, history, yada - so, don't say I didn't warn you.

Our golfing foursome.  Liberty punks that grew up some 60+ years ago together in school.  We always bet, One Dollar.  Two man scramble, I pay Mac, Tom pays Gary, or vice versa.  It gets real. I can't believe you gave him that putt!"  Laughter, followed by, "We're playing for a DOLLAR!"  Don't matter, competitive. We talk big, brag about last time, bottom line, fun.

Sans Divorce, blackjack.  Katy didn't bar the door, so, I played, and played.  Sitting down at the Flamingo Hotel in Vegas at a $5 table (that's how long ago it was) at 4am, I played, smoked cigs, played s'more, got up, peed, grabbed a beer, played... then noticed, it was 5am, the next day.  Sadly, true.  It's simply, a rush.

Anyone who relates, time and again, winning at the casino, ain't telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  All gamblers are suckers, but, again, it's a rush.  Among the hunnerd plus times I've lost playing blackjack - there was one time, I'd won... I dunno... $1200 or so... got up to cash in...  a couple of questionable fellers followed me to the window to get my dough.. I asked the change lady, "Is there any way I can get an escort to my car?" In a flash, a guy who coulda passed for Danny DeVito's cousin was there to walk me out.

Another time, between some'a the hunnerd times I didn't get up and cash in - it was December.. I cashed out at the window, immediately drove across the highway and got six rooms at a nifty hotel with a big ole pool, fun kid area - for our family for Christmas Eve. Proudly, best Christmas ever, or, at least since my divorce anyways.

Slowpitch softball..  while it wasn't technically betting, we laid our talent (or lack thereof) on the line, in that, on our team, if you struck out (you just don't, shouldn't, strike out in slowpitch) you had to buy a 30 pack of beer for the team's next game.  I'd said "If I ever strike out, I'm quitting."  I friggin' swung and missed with two strikes.  I friggin' swung and missed with two strikes. "Sh*t, now what?"  OK, I'll change it to, "When I become a detriment, I'll quit."  That wasn't too long after.  There was a team made up of cops in our league... if they struck out, they had to wear a tutu into the field the next half inning  That was pretty entertaining.

My bookie.  This portion of the blog will selft destruct in two minutes.  He wasn't really a bookie, but, he was, amongst us friends.  We bet enough, he was actually playin both sides of the line, and he'd win on vigs, ties, yada.. Anyways... I was behind, wanted to bet s'more..  so...  walked into our regular ole regular table at our establishment, handed him a quick fitty.  "Vic, don't do that." - not wanting to spend six months behind bars I guiess...   Duh me, so, next time I paid him (and I later quit because I always paid him, I put the dough in and empty cig box, "That work?" Yes, that worked.

I was ready for the big time, or so I thought. Gamblers think like that.  Peyton Manning, in Indy, walkled on water that wasn't frozen.  He continued to do so in Denver.... and no matter how many damn times you hear the dreaded "OMAHA OMAHA".. he'd win.  Super Bowl.  One hundred dollars.  I didn't have an extra hundred, but, that's what gamblers do, besides, it was Manning, he ALWAYS wins.  2014. The very first play of the game, they snap the ball OVER Manning's head, resulting in a safety, and a very long day for me, Peyton, and a 43-8 loss to Seattle.  That was the last day I bet on football.................. until........

Yesterday.  Sport's betting FINALLY legalized in Missouri.  Every other commercial n TV talking about "Bet $5 on your initial bet, we'll giveya $300, even if you lose."  Being an online neophyte, I posted on Facebook, asking a couple buddies to guide me how to do so.  "Call me" said one. Did. He helped me.

One hour before the Chief's game, I'd been trying to get logged in DraftKings, the site I wanted to. couldn't, and I'd been trying for an hour.  Finally, YES!, seven minutes before game time, it accepted password, user ID name ("caution, others will see it") password, addy, email, everything, including my debit card and $25 initial deposit.

In my haste, I forgot to enter the code to get my damn $300 bonus money.  I wanted ot go back and change my user ID name to "ImAnIdiot" but didn't have time, put $10 on the Chiefs.  You know the rest.  Fourth quarter, after playing horribly, the Chiefs were amazingly still in it.  In spite of nine incomplete passes in a row for Mr. Patrick, Andy Reid elected to go for 4th and one, on the Chief's own 31 yard line.  Sure, the 10th incompletion happened, the Texans score (twice) and in keeping with the song lyric theme of this blog......"I'm a loser... and I AM what I appear to be."

So.............. I've got less than $15 left in my account.  Thought maybe I'd bet a final $10 on something, then, "Call it a (Gambling) career."  I logged onto DraftKings...  up pops "K State basketball versus Mississippi Valley State."  Interesting.  K State, their last game, lost to a small college.. Coach was hot.  Kids, I'm certain, will regret practice all week.. They will kick whoever they play's butt.  "I wonder what the spread is?"  K State is giving 35 and 1/2 points to Mississippi Valley State..  WHAT?  They'll beat 'em, but they ain't gonna beat em that bad, sign me up.  But first, I looked at Mississippi Valley State's history... Crap, their record is 1-8. Ken Pom, renowned basketball guru says "Mississippi Valley State is the worst team in College Basketball."  Either way, ImAnIdiot is gonna be ImALoser.

So, curious.  Who did their only win come against?  Mississippi University for Women.  I ain't kidding, thats what their team site said.  Little known fact I usedta coach Women's Basketball.. I argue, at length, with my Zizzer buddy about just how good women's basketball is.

I'm going to flip a coin.  Heads, K State, tails, Mississippi Valley State.  My last $!0.  Stay tuned. Or not. I wouldn't.  ImAnIdiot and ImALoser.

Love, Victurd

Hi, my name is Victor... and,

I'm a lifeaholic.  Uh huh, am. That.

Ohhh joy, here he goes again... where's he going with this one?

Simply, not so simple - an expression, appreciation and a love for life.

I ain't real sure if anyone drives, rides on roads that ain't got, nor ever get, potholes..  Smooth as slate?  Sure, until they need to repave it.  See them white lines grandpa?  NO, as a matter a fact I don't.  Just a baby respite until the State Highway Department comes along, slows ya down along the way, sprays NEW white lines.. it's kinda windy, yes, a tad gets on yer brand spankin' new F-150.

Point being Victor?

I could never make it living in Nassau.... or on, in a real nifty condo atop the city's tallest 'scraper.

Give me your head with hair...... NO, THAT AIN'T IT!  Well, yet anyways.

It's more.......... give me Winter, Spring Summer and Fall....   potholes, construction zones, Friday night lights.. kids playing, laughing, running at the Park - with an occasional pushing, or being pushed down - to learn, all about that... and that it happens in life..  but, we learn NOT to push folks down..  NOT to sit there and watch if/when someone gets pushed down, and NOT, to allow yourself to be that person always getting up from being pushed down.

I don't mind if a dog poops in my yard...  I keep a Band-Aid in my billfold just in case a mom (or a dad) needs one for their little Tigger.  Happens. As does, do colds, blisters, tummy aches, happy, sad, mad, thankful, elation.. even lonely teardrops.  Mix all them 'gredients up momma, gimme a nice sip'a life.  Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.

The ability to see (and feel) all expressions in life.  Mebbe if we didn't have tears we wouldn't have rivers... or, gosh darn, what if we lived a life without smile - would we never have wrinkles?  No thank you, I'll just have a hamburger, oh, and a medium fries... Because, I like happy mediums.

I like happy.  Without down there'd be no up.. If we didn't get up every day, go toil, labor, burn some calories - we'd never be able to sleep at night.  That said, even a sleepless night can be a lesson.

Of course all shoes don't fit. Don't mean we can't try to jump in anothers and see how they view life...

Soon..... I will be going to a paid seminar where I'll express my views...  I've done this before...  Last time, the leader of the pack (vrooom vroom!) noticed I was mostly boring, quiet, a non-contributer - and he called on my for my opine.  Yes, believe it or not, points in my life of shyness.

No longer.  Also during that last one, there was one person (OK, happened to be a lady, just as easily coulda been a man) who dominated, or attempted to, conversation, and the opine of our other 47 chairs.  When I did try to contribute - she'd raise her voice to drown out mine.

No longer.  I had sleeplessness last night.  A good thing from my stinky feet.  I dreamed the scenario repeated itself, and, there she was.  Nope huh uh, not this time.  Of course we NEED the view of other's shoes - and, Al Bundy might suggest trying on many.  Different ones.  Brown, black, loafers, slip-ons, steel toes, these boots were made for walking, spiff it up a little bit. There comes a point, sometimes, we need to Meatloaf someone, STOP RIGHT THERE, before we go any further... ma'am, I appreciate your opinion, I do. I may not agree, but i appreciate.  Now it's time (are you singing the Mickey Mouse goodbye song Victor?.. no, well, kinda..  Ma'am, now it's time we hear other's opinions, tyvm.

Victor, I'm dizzy.  If we didn't have dizzy then howinthehell would we calmly sit in a beach chair soaking up the sun and the music to our ears, wake of the ocean?

When visiting with a loved one recently... I spoke to how much i enjoyed going to sing Christmas Carols at Nursing homes long ago.. pre Covid of course.  I thought it would be all sad.... or course there was sad... it's everywhere, noticed?  Yes chicken man, he's everywhere he's everywhere.

There's a gamut.  A gamut of movement ability or inability.  Sight or no, partial, sight.  Hearing differences. HUH?  Uh huh. The eager beavers placed their chairs right up next to us carolers.  Some sang with us, clapped, ooh and aah'ed right along with us.

Almost to the back... I noticed a lady, seemingly catatonic.  She wasn't, completely. I'm certain, somewhere within that facility there was someone who was...  Life, all but squeezed out by who knows what.. illness.. loneliness, perhaps, due to no control of their own.

The one lady I thought was catatonic -...  as we got to and sang, Silent Night... I watched her. Eyes still closed - but lips moving too, singing, as if she were reliving life.  Talk about happy, sad, glad, tears, access ramps, potholes, family woes and glows, sandbox to being boxed in, yet, still, that ability to be a lifeaholic.

Life sucks, and then... it's beautiful, breathtaking, OMG, LOL, there are newborns, namesakes, pets, pets and s'more pets.  Poop in the yard, litter box full, uh oh, outta Alpo, I'll be right back Rover.  OK, sure, come along. I'll lower the window a tad so you can stick your head out - see it, feel it, enjoy it. Watch out for Junebugs, happens.

Just a song before I go, I think, was a CSN song, mighta been CSN&Y, I dunno.  This one though, was by Jummy Soul from a long, long time ago.............

If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life.......  sure, I know the rest, or most of the song, but I'm gonna rearrange a tad.

If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life...    Be.  Just be.

Love, Victurd, confessed lifeaholic

Let 'em in....

Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Do me a favor, open the door and let 'em in

Beethoven?  Mr. Postman?  Sgt. Peppers?  Anna?  Lady Madonna? Michelle?

Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Do me a favor, open the door and let 'em in, let 'em in

Sister Suzie, Brother John
Martin Luther, Phil and Don
Brother Michael, Auntie Gin
Open the door, let 'em in

The Taxman?  The Fool on the Hill?   When I'm 64?  Lucy and her Diamonds? Paperback Writers? Even a term policy?  <WHAT'S  THAT DOING IN HERE?

Sister Suzie, brother John
Martin Luther, Phil and Don
Uncle Ernie, Auntie Gin
Open the door, let 'em in

Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Do me a favor, open the door and let 'em in, let 'em in

After A Hard Day's Night?  The Nowhere Man?  Prudence?  Penny Lane? The Walrus?  The Eggman?

Sister Suzi, Brother John
Martin Luther, Phil and Don
Uncle Ernie, Uncle Lin
Open the door, let 'em in

Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell
Someone's knockin' at the door
Somebody's ringin' the bell

Eleanor Rigby?  Jude? Lovely Rita?  Mother Mary? Maxwell and His Hammer?  Rocky Racoon?  Bungalow Bill?  The Girl With Kaleidosope Eyes?  Should JoJo Get Back?  The One And Only Billy Shears?

Do me a favor, open the door and let 'em in ...

I'd never make it as a Security Guard... Hall Monitor... Ticket Taker.. .TSA...  (Band Camp.. this past September at our Class Reunion... I went for a smoke or two around 6:30pm... I thought "hmmmmmm" as folks (not my classmates) were walking into the establishment for some chow... I made a fast $45, "Cover charge is $5, band starts at 8"... None the wiser, I was home by 7:30pm! jk..... 7:45)

I was kinda raised love your neighbor as yourself, extending to outsiders and strangers.. not to be haughty, to associate with humble people.

We can work it out..

Love, Victurd

When I grow up........ I wanna be old.....

I'd planned to do a blog on being 70-something...   An OG.. Codger..  Geezer..  Feeble..  "Get your scratch off tickets and step on it Walter."

I thought it would be easy about writing about being old, because... well, I am.

It ain't.  There's no 'structions for being old.  I'm not sure if I've forgotten the rules, or, I don't pay no 'tention to 'em cause I'm old.  I mean, don't you now wear socks with your sandals? Have ice cream for breakfast?  I draw the line, and call bullsh*t to Bingo being a sport.

I've noticed, more women make it than men.  For example.  They say Arizona has a 9 to 1 ratio, chickies to roosters.  If I wasn't such a ginger, I might consider.  Research I've done (which, ain't much) indicates "Old people still enjoy sex."  How do they know that?  When my census taker knocked on the door, he wanted name, age, date of birth, race.. oh, and he did ask "sex" but I just said male, I didn't know it was a yes or no question.

It (research, they, I ain't real sure who) said "Seniors transform from a structured environment (working) to a relaxed, no stated pattern, game plan for retirement.  There's a great need for purpose."  I heard that once before and I really didn't like it then either. On purpose I don't like it.

If. You. Are. From. Where. I. Am. Grew. Up. Graduated. (1970) you might remember our beloved Coach Cokely.  Well... we are exactly 13 years older than Coach was in 1970.  Uh huh, what I thought too.

While sure, sit down Volleyball, played across the table, with a balloon as the 'volleyball' might be fun...   and.. armed with nerf guns in our wheelchair for us to 'kill' the Golden Acres CNA's dressed as Bambi might be fun, I kinda think I'd still like the real McCoy.  Then, i think about it, and wanna take a nap.  On purpose. My purpose.

Nuther article said "Now that you're financially secure, and great attention is paid to healthy behaviors (dieting, cutting out alcohol, cigs, all the fun stuff) and exercise is job one..." Did they just like get here?  "Thanks for dumping my ashtray Samantha, can I get another Miller Lite?  Oh, and did I tellya I went to the gym today?  No time today to workout, but, I sat in the Jacuzzi, then went in the Sauna... an hour of heaven."

"A goal should be to impart wisdom gained over the years to younger folks."  They don't want that!  And I don't blame 'em.  If they ever do share things about their lives - I might physically react, respond with facial gesture - but they ain't gotta care in the world what us OG's say.

Get a tattoo, take that bucket list trip, or five.  "Enjoyable pastimes like gardening, cooking, listening to music can encourage social interaction, stimulate the mind, and, bring structure to the day."  There's that word again.  Structure.  Who said so?  Why?  Hell no, we wont try.

I WILL wear a striped shirt and plaid pants to Piggly Wiggly..  My socks might not even match. WHO CARES?  On purpose (SEE? I GOTTA PURPOSE!) I might even leave my barn door open.

Oh sure, there is some jesting in the above.  That said, we've a lifetime of Big Chief tablets with those dotted lines to help (make us) form letters... Curriculums, true/false, multiple choice, sign, sign everywhere a sign.. 

Meetings, training, seminars, continuing education, shadowing, mentorship, cross-training, peer led sessions, workshops........ STOP RIGHT THERE MEATLOAF.. We've had enough of that crap!

Sure, there will always be have to's.  That said, succinctly, I think being old, being retired, being our age - is all about doing whatever whenever.  Sorry. Kinda.  Not really. Said it, on purpose.

All we ever needed to now we learned in Kiddygarten.  No, wait, that ain't it.  It was Eric.  Eric Burdon. The Animals. In 1965:

It's my life and I'll do what I want... it's my mind and I'll think like I want.

Come to think'a it, I really like that album as a Big Chief lesson plan for life... "Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood."........ ahm, and, "We Gotta Get Outta This Place".... not too mention "Don't Bring Me Down."

It's My Life.     

Our, old people's life.

OK Boys and Girls..  Here's a #2 leaded pencil and an 8 1/2 by 11 blank sheet of paper.

Us, truly Blessed to be old people can.. Create however we wanna.

School's out for the summer...    School's out forever.

Love, Victurd

Life, streaming, fine print, and dog parks

HA!  Look that one up in your Funk and Wagnalls!  (Editor''s note. VICTOR, you're not an editor, you're a gosh darn blogger.).. Blogger's note.  My dad actually sold for Funk and Wagnalls!  He did, sold, just about any, everything.  Those, S&H Green Stamps.. Not to mention Top Value, Plaid...  Jerry Lewis Cinema's.. art prints, goofy looking el cheapo rings, and.. finally, his last job was when he got D Tags and sold clunkers from the driveway after my mom had her stroke.  One eye on the body putty, spray paint, the other on mom.

Life is kinda like a streaming service ain't i?  You have your device (eye balls)..  ya plug 'em in.. well, not really, but more on the device later... and then you observe, live, love, yell (eh, everyone has).. get happy, mad, tired, frisky, all that.

FINE PRINT.  FINE PRINT. FINE PRINT. FINE PRINT....  EDITH!  WHEREINTHEHELL DID I PUT MY READERS?  HAS MEATHEAD BEEN OVER HERE LATELY?

Band camp.  I know this guy, he really liked this girl.  And, the feeling was mutual as she invited him to move in.   He did a backflip, which, was a mistake, because he was an ugly redheaded freckle faced guy who couldn't do backflips.

After he recovered, he fetched his clothes, all his junk, and moved in.  There on the coffee table, the contract.  Eh, it's all good... All he really wanted for him was his 1971 set of Topps Baseball cards, so he was cool signing it.  The contract stated either party could tap the other party on the shoulder and give 'em 30 days notice to say "Notice, this ain't working, we must live separately and ya gots 30 more days to get your duds, find a residence."

He was cool with this, except, he REALLY grew to love her hound pooch too.  So, an addendum was written, where, if the 'notice' thing happened, he would still have visitation rights to said pooch. Addendum approved.

Couple three years later, 'notice' happened.  Followed by joyful trips to the dog park, long leash walks with plastic poop bag in hand... Good times, including sticking head out the window when heading out on the highway.  Fine, added print.  Then, three's company happened, of course it would be uncomfy, "Loveya pup... I'll explain in Heaven if we both get there."

I Googled examples of people getting burned by fine print.  My lawyer buddy will call BS on this, and I kinda thought so too... but supposedly, a guy was in a car accident.. Clearly other guy's fault.. His insurance company ignored responsibility.. Guy sued.. was settled, in his favor, got his dough... then, a few weeks after, that insurance company called him, asked if he'd sign something saying he was satisfied with the outcome.  His voice was recorded, "Sure, sure, send it."

They did. He threw it in the trash.  Apparently in the fine print, the documents stated that HE accepted full responsibility for the accident, and that HE would repay the insurance company plus reimburse insurance company for all the other payments they’d made for the accident, AND HE'D pay this attorney’s fees!

This was on 'Quora', most called BS.. "The State would revoke their license to work there"... 'No way this happened."  "Can you not read?".. lotta stuff. "Did you mail it back?  Have to pay?" No answer.

One guy, I thought fun... Told.......I had a Senior-year elective law class in HS, specifically about Contracts. The first day the teacher gave everyone a 1-page contract (face down on the desks) and told everyone to read it, then sign it when they finished reading. I actually read my copy, stopped about 1/2 way through and yelled out, indignantly: “I’m not signing this!”

She immediately had her aide collect all of the contracts, and then asked me why I wouldn’t sign it. “This line says that the signer forfeits his or her left arm to the signee! I’m not giving you MY ARM!” More than half the class had already signed the contract by the time I spoke up.

VICTOR?  POINT TO THIS?  IS THERE AN END GAME?

Yes, I'm an idiot. I've been thru more cable, streaming, boxes, devices, coaxial cables, cords, connections, sales calls, post cancel begging calls to give it to me for half, "Well why didn't you do that when I cancelled?:

Anyways... the most recent. DirectTV.  This, not too many months after a returned Spectrum cable box, T Mobile router...  then, a Specturm streaming device.

I was cancelling Direct TV.  I always use the "Poor poor pitiful me" I'm a Senior Citizen, living on Social Security, or trying to.. I simply can't afford.. in hopes the high pressure dudes will leave me the hell alone... If they don't, I revert to the failsafe, "Well, I'm hungry... and I know I can't live, eat the kitty litter, tried, huh uh, can't"

That usually works with the best of 'em.  "OK Sir, I understand (then I hear 'em trying to muffle the phone, "Gladys, get aholda this one!".. laughter.. and then finally, "OK Sir, we'll need our streaming device back.. we'll send you a return receipt and we'll give you 30 days to return."

Eh whadever, it never worked anyways, threw it in the junk drawer with similar junk, worst case, I figured a threatening letter, phone call, whatever, "Oh yeah, forgot, I'm mailing it to you..

I gotta buddy that told me "Every morning, first thing I do is logon to my bank account." I thought "Good idea" I should do that to. Have been.  Noticed this morning, a $132.47 charge from DirectTV that I got rid of way before Halloween.  Took my baby aspirin, then, checked my email.

Yep, an email from DirectTV with fine print included, I'd agreed to pay them that. So, figured i could call, see if "Hey, is it mine now, or, can I send it back and get a refund?"  In her best attempt at good English (VICTOR, THAT is JUDGMENTAL! Eh whadever).. "No sir, it's yours, no refund, and you will not have any more payments deducted."

Life.......... Streaming, enjoying life.. occasionally skipping the fine print.

I miss that dog.

Oops.

Love, Victud

Things that get your attention for $200 Ken.......

First time of the day the puppies hit the ground... muscles, bones, cartilage, ligaments, aches, pains, accompanied groans, BLADDER.

Pretty/Attractive/Handsome, that stuff. 

A purrsistent, kneady cat.  A hound that bugs you due to hungry/gotta pee/wants to play/attention/no reason.

Even a term policy? EVEN A TERM POLICY

When you're in the other room and you hear a 3 year old, in the other room, say, UH OH.

When you have one'a them UH OH farts.

Hearing, "Wanna fool around?"  Oh, don't get mad... its a way of life.. I think I remember anyways... I mean heck, we wouldn't be here had it not happened.

Loud noises, sirens, gunshots, fireworks....

An itchy itchy rash.

Caller ID.

I'm sorry Sir, its saying 'Declined.'

A deer in the headlights.

What's that yummy aroma coming from the kitchen?

Tailgaters.

Checking your bank balance on Day 8 (uh oh) after you signed up for that one free week of streaming service from that one provider so you could watch that one game for free.

Beloved Betty Sumpter, Jr High teacher, who, once she noticed half of us had fallen asleep, raised her voice hella decibels in what was semi monotone reading to AND THEN GEORGE SAID TO SALLY.....

Nature........  Colors.........  Smiles......

Vampires, monsters, werewolves, scary movies, creaking floors, gore, snakes, alligators and that first peek into the mirror in the morning.

Breaking news.. Just in... We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming..  Happening now... 

Tim Conway, Barney Fife, Red Skeleton, George Carlin

Life, thankfully.

Love, Victurd

(Admission...  a few days back, blog on the two types of trash bins.. one for trash (Ugly stuff in life, let it go..) and the recyclable bin (yummy stuff, to be re-used, keepsake memories, that stuff.........  then, days later I did a blog on 'two sides to every board'.. within it I bitched, moaned at one point about when some talk outta both sides of their mouths on social media.

I slipped, apologies. I am human, hear me write.  These last 7 months have kinda been a whirlwind. So many questions, so few answers.  What could I have done better, yada.  I suppose that's my lame excuse... or, perhaps, the other side of a board, it has splinters, like me.)