On second thought.........

Alvin.....   Alvin?....   Alvin???...   ALVIN???!!!...   ALVIN!!!!!!!!

Bueller.......  Bueller........ Bueller......  Bueller.....

Waldo?...   Waldo?...    Waldo?...  Waldo?...

"....... 6, 7, 8, 9, 10...  Ready or not, here I come!"

Allee allee in free....

That really ain't got squat to do with this...  Well, OK, I guess it does.  Memory of all things past - or, as much as we can remember.

I guess life, or, perhaps me, my life, could be dyslexic. I find glee in thinking bassackwards...  yes, what happened last week, last month, in 2024, 1999... '85...  '70...  and all the years prior, starting with when we made the transition from "He's 19 months old..." to... "2, terrible 2."

Every stop, year, thereafter, blessed.

I KNOW, I KNOW, I KNOW.....   with the good of life, comes the poopy mems....  Mayonnaise (YUCK, sorry, not really).....  FINALLY getting up enough nerve to ask whatshername out, so, ya run up to her, lo and behold, she's got a ring on her finger with enough yarn on it your granny could make you a hat.

Rain outs.  A tube goes out on the TV, making Leave It To Beaver impossible until dad gets home, can fix.

Intermixed, there's some hella good....   slip and slide....... sled, back to top, sled, back to top, sled.... hot chocolate.

Then, mebbe like, 9th grade...  you's more scared than the first time you went to the dentist... and some Senior with a probable small thing (VICTOR!!!)... ok, some Senior who was bullied horrifically HIS 9th grade year has picked YOU ("But I didn't do nuttin'!) as his psychologically this will make him feel better. Mine pulled a knife on me, 3rd floor bathroom in school.. nuttin' happened, I'm certain worse ends have happened. Bullying, sadly, lives.

We learn, along the ride in the second row of the station wagon, not every one has station wagons.. some like Edsels, Citrons (ever seen those dudes go 'up and down'!), T Birds, Falcons, his dad runs a business, the cargo van doubles as their family car.

We notice........ the perfect(?) mom, dad, kid, kid family.... then, the family with no dad.  Another, no mom.  Yet another, lives with his, her grandparents.

We see, but are now old enough, not to say something.......... how come he walks funny?  Why is she in 3rd grade again this year?  Mom, he's worn the same shirt and pants four days in a row....  DID YOU SEE THE SIZE OF THEIR HOUSE? They actually have people that ain't family that LIVE there and do the stuff, kinda work, our moms and dads do.. and  they ALWAYS get new duds.

Where ya going with this Victor?  I ain't sure.  That's a thing about life I really like, but, sometimes it's sad. Whaddaya mean? I mean, we can love, love, love our immediate family...  or not, and the 'or not' is really sad to me.. .but, I get it.

We overcome that, or.. we don't.

In spite of the present day 'climate', this is the greatest Country in the World, my take anyways.

Free to choose. Free.  We trip and fall, sometimes sue, sometimes punch out the owner, sometimes say "I'm ok, I simply wasn't paying attention."

We hold doors for others because there ain't nuttin' in life in that bigga hurry where we can't be nice..........or, we walk in, let the door close, 'cause mebbe we didn't learn we should be nice.. or try to be. Or, don't care.  That's a sad one, but too, we ain't never worn their Chuck Taylors.  Maybe they're sick, hurt, just divorced, being bullied, had a just had a hound pooch go over the rainbow bridge.

Somehow, we all make it. Quality for one, is differn't for another.  Fun for me, might be disgusting to you.  One might be looking for a crown to put atop their head after having loaded three loads of clothes in the car, successfully washed them, brought them home, put them away -------- whilst anudder may be staring in the mirror after returning from the marathon they just completed and they deem themselves a failure because they didn't finish in the top fitty in their age group.

McDonalds, Arby's, The Capitol Grille, we're having leftovers........ perhaps equally yummy to all.

Pet a hound, buy one'a them 12' tall carpeted things for your cats to go crazy climbing.  "ACHOO, no thank you."  Honey, can we get anudder puppy?  I'm not so sure the four we already got, and you and me, AND a puppy, can all fit in this bed.  PLEASE?  OH, OK.

Life is a remote control, cause we like different things.  I'm a fidget spinner.  I fall asleep in the recliner every night by 9.  Morning person. Night owl. 

Road trip.  All inclusive joint for me. Choo choo, all the way across the county.  Caribbean cruise. Oh  you oughta try Alaska.  Brrr...  We really enjoy tugging the camper up to Smithville lake, we can do round trip in 37 minutes.

This all came to fruition because I was thinking about what an awesome childhood I had.  I know some didn't.  We, in life, can worry about what we don't have.   While sure, I've been divorced a long, long time - know I've missed a bunch, I've had a blessed life.  I'm happy. I hope I choose that, live that.  In the end, it's smile or not.  Kindness or not.  Being thankful or not.

Life is fun, funny, hard, tough, lazy, hurried, hot, cold, rainy, snowy, too hot, just right.  I once told a buddy of mine, he happens to be black.... "If I were black, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead from fighting back."  He quickly smiled, said, "No you wouldn't."

I love me some people............ hope you do as well....

We're in it together...............or, we ain't.  Sometimes we ain't got no choice.  I'm a remote person. I like flippin' around the channels of life. Sure, usually land back at the same ole same ole ones. but, I really enjoy seeing what others are watching, doing, how they're living, what they like, don't like.  Life's fun. Good. Or not, I guess.

Love, Victurd

Fabiosa Digest(ion) issues........

Hi, my name is Vic.  I'm old.  Feeble.  Ya know, one foot in the urn (I have really small feet.)

Picture wrinkled arms... actually, wrinkles allover, you know, like onea them Shar-Pei hounds.

I have actinic purpura.  GET AWAY FROM ME THEN OLD MAN, I DON'T WANNA CATCH THAT CRAP.

It ain't what you think.  It's the purple spots we geezers get on our skin whenever we barely bump anything, sometimes, we don't even remember howintheheck we got/get them.

I'm the poor poor pitiful me person in dayum near every Fabiosa Digest 'reel', story, whadever you call 'em on Facebook.  Our time has past, move along OG, where'd ya put the will, I wanna take a peek.

Old man river..  Any possible contributions in life, water under the bridge.  Get along home little doggie.

Arguments, amongst the 'children' of Fabiosa Digest folks, center around, "here's a nice little flat for ya Grandpa.. it's only a block from the Assisted Living place, which is next door to Golden Acres, which, has a really nifty cemetery in the back forty.  Mark, set, get them tennis balls'a rollin. Rollin' rollin' rollin', keep them tennis balls rollin'... . Oh.. and......

Handover the keys to the 4 bedroom, 2 bath place, and, couldya, before ya go, call that dumpster place and clear out all the crap in the second garage door spot so I, er, someone could park two vehicles in there?

In fairness to the Fabiosa Digest folks, I ain't read a ton of 'em, but, whenever I do, I swear to goodness I can hear Roy Orbison singing "It's Over" in the background.

Just once..........................

Just once..........................

I'd like to read one where..........

Gramps SPRINGS OUTTA BED... showers and shaves in nuthin' flat.  Races (you hear me, RACES) down the stairs....... as gramps does, he swings by the record player (YES, I said record player..........) puts Sly and his Stone family on...

Say, get up and dance to the music
Get on up and dance to the music

Dance to the music
Dance to the music
Dance to the music
Dance to the music (hey, Greg), what?

 

All we need is a drummer
For people who only need a beat, yeah
I'm gonna add a little guitar
And make it easy to move your feet

 

Then, Gramps moonwalks into the kitchen. makes him some Chia pudding.. a dab'a cottage cheese...  three scoops of Greek yogurt.......warshes it all down with a glass'a 2%........

 

(Reread up above there... there ain't NOWHERE where the OG put on clothes..  YES, he's nekkid to the World.  That's the way, uh huh uh huh, he likes it... slides open the patio door....... (There's a 12' privacy fence, relax a little)..   does a cannonball into the deep enda the pool, followed by twelve, count em, twelve, laps.

 

"AHHHH YES!" he hollers to no one in particular...... back into the house. put's Sly's album back in the cover.. .runs upstairs whistling the theme from Andy Griffith.......

 

T shirt....... shorts.......  a pair'a neon green boxer briefs (whitey tighty? FORGET YOU!)... ankle socks (whadever damn color he wants).. . His favorite Hoka shoes.........

 

AND HE'S OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Out the door......... jogs up by the college... around the Square (4 times).......up the hill to the High School... he's up to two miles.. but he's timed it perfectly, slides into the Elementary School, salutes, waves, 'howdy's' all the office staff...  walks into granddaughter Aub's 3rd grade class... has a seat on the stool the teach provided.......... and reads the book of the day (right after he's winked at Aub and flashed her the love sign.)

 

Blows her a kiss... says 'thankya ma'am" to teach.... "Morning Herk" to the custodian............. and, continues his jog....... defying the perceived odds of "geezers don't know crap about electronics", he calls the 7-11 from the phone on his ear, orders 8 different scratch off tickets... "be there in seven minutes Betty".. before he set foot outta the schoolyard, he'd eyed the pull up bar on the playground... did 20 pull ups (didn't wanna be late for his tickets, prolly coulda done forty or fitty.)

 

He no longer walked in the door, said 'howdy', snatched the tickets, tapped to pay (thoughts running through his head, "SEE? I know how to do this crap too!).. says thanks to Betty.......

 

Two miles to home......... but, the Police Scanner in the other ear warns him about trouble at Al's Bar and Grill..........he's there in a flash.... seems four thugs from a nearby town are making fun of, bullying. Duke... a nice kid, some call him 'simple', but, wouldn't hurt a flea.. anyways, Duke is in near tears...... It's like Gramps downed a can'a spinach, three karate kicks, four jiu jitsu's later, there's "Four on the floor", Al, and Duke, thank him... wiseacre Otis, in the backgound, already had a few, starts singing the Might Mouse theme............ 

 

Ten minutes later (a 5mph pace) Gramps is in the door at home, pets the dog and cat... feeds em...  takes a seat on the couch.. but only for a little bit.. to binge his latest favorite Netflix show.

 

Fabulous idea, (my take anyways).. I dunno if Fabiosa would ever break from their feeble Geezer, take advantage of the old man, old woman ways..... but, I'd like to see it, read it.

 

Oh well, I'm off to swim a few laps, happy day!

 

VICTOR?    Yeah?  You ain't gotta pool, and, FYI, that's the front porch, not the back porch.

 

Oops.

 

Love, Victurd 

 

I'm positive....... I think. Are you sure, Shirley?

I have admitted lazy streaks.  OK, call it years if you prefer that, I'm 73, I mean, how many dayum years can I consternate, be PO'ed at that?

I have a 'new' computer. It's behaving like a wife. VICTOR!  Er, I mean, like a persnickety partner.  That ain't gonna get you off the hook Victor, you're still gonna be labeled a misogynist. I'm 73, I mean, how many dayum years can I consternate, be PO'ed at that?

Where was I?  Victor, that's a very common question asked by 73 year olds.  I believe you were set to explain or demonstrate how your computer is persnickety, or, husband-like, HA!

Funny, not.  I'm sure of that. The regular path to open this (to do a new blog) is to go way up the left upper hand corner, click 'new window', then wait for three years for it to open.  I'm 73, I mean, how many dayum years can I consternate, be PO'ed at that? Ya know? I'd get pissed for like a year, that's why I chose to select a window that was already opened, type in the site for the blog, then, carry on my wayward son..

So............ when it opened, it didn't open, rather......"DANGEROUS SITE".  I kinda agree. It drives me crazy sometimes anyways.

So... I went back to the regular method, opened, waited a year, I'm now 74, how's things with you?

Sure.  That's a huge word (to me) in life.  Same with the word doubt. When I find myself in times of trouble.......no, wait, that ain't it.   When I find myself in situations where I don't really know any, many...I thinka the sure doubt first.. I look for someone who seemingly has self doubt in themselves.  I admit to that for myself sometimes, but, I think it would be a literal hell to live in a world where you always doubt yourself, and for that, I feel sorry for them.

Then, there's the sure word.  I'm sure I'd like that one, that one and that one.  I'm sure that one hasn't cleaned out his car in three months. (Victor, you're in the bathroom peeing, again, that's you in the mirror.) Oh yeah, sorry.

That one, is SURE of him, herself.  That one, is TOO sure of him, herself.  I do not wanna sit by them, nor become acquainted to them. I would ride across the country 'with' them, provided they were heading East on I-70 whilst I was going West. We get it Victor.  Ya sure?  Yes, Shirley.

Which, has absolutely NOTHING to do with Carter Jensen (but I do.)  Carter is a tremendously talented 'rookie' for the Kansas City Royals.  Every stop along the way in the Minor Leagues, reminds ya of one'a them cheesy Batman cartoons with "POW".. "BANG"..  "ZAP"... "KABOOM!"  That is, he can really really hit.  I'm sure of it.

At the end of last season, he was brought up from Triple A for a look see.  Look? See? Dude can hit.  Thus, for this year, he was bequeathed the backup catcher role.  Prominent.  Huge in that our Captain, Salvy, will only catch a little over half the time.

Third game of the season... Home run... and.. RBI double..  Royals win, Royals win. Sixth game of the season, a 1pm Sunday noon start..  Salvy had caught the night before, so, Carter penciled in (emphasis on pencil) to catch with his 22 yr old legs, so Salvy could rest his late 30-something legs.

Team meeting before game.  Where's Carter? Ring, ring, ring, ring, voicemail.  He's a local kid, so, they tried his parent's number... ring, ring, ring, Hello?  Mr. Jensen, ya seen Carter?  Nope, I'm sorry, I haven't.  

He overslept. Nuh uh?  Uh huh, I"m sure of it Shirley. They scratched him from the game. Salvy not only caught, but, they lost an all important lefthanded bat against a very fine righty pitcher.

This is where............. I go ballistic, of sorts. I WOULDA GIVEN MY RIGHT ARM AT THE CHANCE TO PLAY MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL!  (OK, maybe right index finger fingernail, now's that?)  I mean, what a goofball, some might even call him an idiot.  MY. GOAL. IN. LIFE. WAS. TO. PLAY. MAJOR. LEAGUE. BASEBALL.  Carter, how couldya?

Ahm, Victor?  Yeah?  Can I help you here?  What's to help about it, it's ridiculous.  OK OK, back to that in a sec.  When you, Victor, went to that tryout for the Royals, remember, the one where you realized you sucked?  Yeah, so?  So, you went on, successfully I might add, to your second life choice, to teach PE and coach in your hometown.  Remember?  Sure, but what's that got to do with this?

Ahm, Victor?  Yeah?  Remember how, in teaching, you really stuggled at first. Yeah.  Then, after awhile, with the help of many, you had the kids walking in for PE quietly, and, they even remembered to wear gym shoes for PE Day.  Yeah, I DO remember that, and, I thought pretty cool of me, I even made up a "GYM SHOE" award that after so many times in a row, they got this nifty "GYM SHOE AWARD" colored construction paper thingy to post on their class door.  YES, that's right, you did.

Then, Victor? Yeah?  Do you remember your second week?  Wow, that was a long time ago. I just remember, I think most of the teachers liked me, man, they helped me, for sure.  The Principal was awesome.. and the cooks, OH the cooks.  The gym doubled as a cafeteria, I spent a lotta time in with those nice, fun, ladies. I even got TWO cinnamon rolls on cinnamon roll day. I had it going smoking!

Uh huh, but, then do you remember what happened?  Well, not specifically, remember, that was long, long ago.

Week 2. YOU OVERSLEPT.  Damn, that's right, I did. By the time they got ahold of you, you'd missed two classes, the teachers of those two classes didn't get their break time.  You felt horrible, and, rightfully so.

Victor?  yeah?     Do you remember your office door?  Well yeah, it was wood, barren.  Nothing stood out about it.   Except when..........

The Principal put up a GYM SHOE AWARD that day for you on it.

THAT'S DIFFERENT.  No it ain't.  Job = oversleep.  He's a people just like you're a people.  I'm sure of it, Victor. 

OK.  There's no way to wiggle outta that one.  I did it.  It's twue it's twue, it's reawwy twue.  I am human, hear me snore.  It was the last time, in however long this dayum working career has gone... that was.. gosh, almost 50 years ago... and it ain't happened again.

So Victor, do you want a GYM SHOE AWARD or a chest to pin it on?  Bite me.  i would, but, I'm heading East on I-70.

Good day, Paul Harvey 

ope..........

Beloved Ope. Conjures  up that whistlin' "The Fishin' Hole" song, wholesomeness, right/wrong, love in a family.  Life lessons. filled with mistakes and answers... kindness, humility, it's "goooo-oooood".

Victor, are you REALLY gonna do an entire blog on ope?

Nope, as in yes.  Variations therein.

Like mope, perhaps, when we first awaken.  Awakening at 70-something is a tad differn't than awakening at earlier ages.

At an earlier age, it's "Get outta my way.... (chops brushed, clothes thrown on, bowl'a cereal downed)..  places to go, people to see." 

Then, you dope (< that be me) ya mope. Helps me cope, pull me up, even if it takes a rope.  If I fall, get a Doctor and a stethascope, make him be careful, where he do grope.

Brb,studying the list'a ope words. (Leon might say, "I'm up on the tightrope.")  It's a slippery slope.

Victor?  What made you go to this scope? BECAUSE!  I was gonna do a blog on differnt personalities... you know, like..  dancing to a different tune...but I couldn't find if that original quote was dancing to a different drummer... or, dancing to a different song, or dance to a differnt tune... Victor, the saying is actually "March to a different drummer". Gee thanks, now BEAT IT!

I prolly shoulda just stayed with that, cause 6 letter words ending in ope, no help. Thankfully, seven letter words, like syncope (which, means temporary loss of consciousness) and now, I gotta pee, which, could also be written o pee. (AI just helped me with another, confirming, pee DOES have isotopes.) You're welcome.  Victor, stick that in an envelope, saddle up an antelope or a jakalope and mail it to somebody that cares. (Which, reinforces my original idea, different drummer)

A little diddy, about Jakalope and Penelope. Criminy Victor, speed it up.. how many more letters until you get to kaleidoscope?  Four.

Wow, all these beautiful ope words. I bet Moffitt knows em, I ain't got no ID. 

HEY! I was lookin' at Earth thru the telescope and now I can't see it!  "It's because we're on the other side of the moon Christina, now go see if that toilet flapper is still workin'.

I shoulda actually stayed in bed. My horoscope tells me, "You're on the downslope." Funny ha ha, now take this coloscope and stick it where the sun don't shine 'cause I don't think we can see it either.

Misanthrope.  Don't go there Victor, we deal with them basta's daily.

There there's nasopharyngolaryngoscope. The hell is that Victor? It's a scope for looking down someones larynx. and it's also THE longest word ending in ope.

The LONGEST! YAY, are you finally DONE??

No.  scope, stope, myope, prope, ibope, cbope, icope, skope, ifope, skope, irope, loope, deope, ucope, esope, wsope, slope, grope, shope, whope, iaope, hbope, ncope, ilope, hhope, arope, cmope, oeope, fyope, etope, trope, elope, crope, alope, acope, ccope, ijope, hope, spope, idope, seope, asope, isope.

Victor?  The hell is all them, and, ARE YOU DONE?  Them's the Boy Scout list.  Huh?  Uh huh, 'be prepared', you know, 5 letter words in case you see 'em on Wordle. 

Done?

Nope. One more.

Yes?

Europe. as in where my friend Pup (and wifey Margie) are gonna fly to today.

Night Pa.

Night Ope.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZYlY_8zi8k

 

 

 

 

A little diddie, 'bout Geno and Dawn........

Advance apologies, another dadgum sport's blog.

Or is it.....

 Luigi (I didn't know that) 'Geno' Auriemma is the highly successful (How highly Victor? Ahm, he's won more games than anyone.) UConn coach with 1.288 wins.. and more National Championships (12) than anyone..  He's the UConn coach...  they had won like 54 games in a row........... until......

Last night.  

Dawn Staley, she's pretty much done it all as well... played professionally eight years, three time Olympic Champ, also coached an Olympic Champion team.. and her South Carolina teams have won three National Championships.

Combined, they've won half of the last ten National Championships, she three, he two. Some call that the "Crème de la crème...caviar... Boardwalk and Park Place of women's basketball.

They played last night in the Final Four, and if you're a basketball  nerd like me, it was damn near as big as Caitlin vs Angel, or Angel vs Caitlin National Championship game a few years back.  Almost, but not quite.

It was WEIRD.  Geno, normally calm, reserved, hands in pocket, wasn't that.  Dawn, admittedly pretty intense (I liken her style to a 1960-something high school football coach... can giveya one'a them stares, "Yes ma'am, I'll do WHATEVER YOU WANT." Works.  Each. Both.

Except last night.  While I'm not a fan of kids, players, having fear as a motivating factor, Mr. Geno ain't perfect either in that he constantly humiliates teams  by 30, 40, 50+ points, continuing crazy defensive pressure, not subbing until very late, all legal, just rubs some (including me) the wrong way sometimes.

UConn, could not make any shot beyond a layup, mosta the night. and that had a LOT to do with South Carolina's tenacious defense.  Uncharacteristic of UConn. Geno too. He was flustered, beside himself. It's really too bad he wasn't BESIDE HIMSELF to stare, listen to himself as he was interviewed on National TV, between the 3rd and 4th quarters, his team down 43-39. Looked like maybe he hadn't taken his meds.  Griped about refs, "called 6 fouls on us, 0 on them, one'a my girls got her jersey ripped open, no call, the way SHE (Dawn) talks to the refs, I'd get tossed." He then dropped an S Bomb.

Frankly, I was embarrassed for him. It got worse, as did the butt whippin' (62-48). Geno approached Dawn with seconds left..  he had to be separated... his kids shook the hands of the South Carolina players...... he didn't, headed for the locker room.

This is where you think an "I've come to my senses" at least partial apology would come out from him....... instead, he doubled down in the post game interview.  

His gripes were about her, her players, accused them of 'dirty play', etc.

Who knows, maybe so, BUT... that ain't a gripe with them, that would be a gripe with the refs.  Just my opine, but it was a really ugly look for Geno Auriemma. 

Who knows if he'll "come around."  I am guessing, were the score reversed, he would expect her to shake hands after the game like opposing coaches had the previous 54 games in a row.

Fifty-four times in a row the losing coach did the right thing........... this time (just my opine) the losing coach blew it, in more ways than one.

Besides, I had ten bucks on UConn, dadgumit!

Love, Victurd 

 

Confessions of a post turtle.......

I don't think I've ever, literally, seen a post turtle.  It would be sad, cruel, and wonder would set in "howinthehell do I get this thing down and still have ten fingers intact?"

Internet learns us "A 'post turtle' is a metaphor for a person in a high ranking position who clearly reached that spot with the help of others, rather than through their own abilities.

"They often have no idea how they got to that high position, and, they don't belong there or cannot function effectively there."  The article I read said it's commonly used to describe politicians or leaders who seem unsuited for their roles."

Hey, I just blog here, and, I steal alotta crap, thus, what the shell, color me a big ole green post turtle. (I AIN'T saying "I am SOMEBODY".. I'm saying, I cheat.) I certainly don't mind being called that, and, I resemble that remark. Daddy sang bass, mama sang tenor, post turtles/some bloggers,  lip sync.

How this all fits, well, it really doesn't.  There's a lady on Facebook, she heap popular here in KC (co-hosts #1 afternoon radio talk show, she's fun, funny, show is creative, that's the way uh huh uh huh I, and most people, like it.)

Anyways, she's been getting, for months, vitually the same call three times a day from a 'Marissa Morgan' a scammer who portends to work in the underwriting department... "calling regarding loan approval... in final review.. want to go over final aspects.."  the talk show lady blocks her number, not long after, calls back from a different number...  again and again and again.

i get the same from DirectTV. At one time, I did use them.  They don't call me three times a day, but, at least once a week, I block the number, and yep, soon, from another number.  Annoying.. like me!

Listeners (to the lady's show).. "My husband answers the phone "security desk..this call is being recorded. State the name of your emergency." 

Yet anudder listener suggested..."Answer and speak a foreign language…once you say 3 phrases they don’t understand they will hang up. I’ve wished them Happy birthday, ordered 2 kilos of ground beef and recited my foreign mailing address…but all in Macedonian language and they always just hang up." 

"My brother blows his lifeguard whistle in their ear."

"I just keep saying 'Hello?... hello?' and pretend I don't hear them. Went on for 20 minutes one day.  They did call back the next, but, after two minutes, they never ever called me again."

"I answer in my Donald Duck Voice and say Hewwo several times and they hang up."

I use "I  run a farm. I tell them I'm a little busy but I'll try to get through their questions. I then act like I'm yelling out the door telling my horse Wilber to stop trying to have sex with the pigs. Then I act like my wife goes out to try and stop the madness and I beg her not to but she still goes, I then yell 
Sh*t! Wilber is trying to mount my wife!" At this point they are saying they will let me go. I'm like "oh no. Apparently what you have is important because you call me 4 times a day! So tell me what's so important?"  Usually they hang up.

"Air horn."

"You are caller #10" then, hang up.

“I am planning to audition for The Voice next week. I’ve been practicing Sinatra’s “My Way.” Could you tell me what you think?” 

"What are you wearing?  Wanna know what I'm wearing?"

“Can you belch the alphabet? I can. Here, check this out…” 

OK, it's probably just me, I'm a simpleton and I hurt from laughing at reading the crap I plagiarized, sorry, kinda. Of course get on the no call list. (No idea how you do that.) Please don't use any of my suggestions (that's in case you do, someone sues you, you in turn sue me. Hehe.)

Most of all........... have a nice day.

HEY WAIT!  GET ME DOWN!

Love, Victurd  

It's unanimous......

We never, all, agree completely.

Take New Years Eve for example... most don't, but, Otis might suggest to you "It's amateur hour." 

Pretty much, same with today, April Fools' Day.  Fun, or none.  Those that always indulge, and them that aren't all that enthralled with life (interacton therein with others).. "Go away kid, I don't want any Thin Mint Cookies."

 I'm kinda stuck in the middle on April Fools' Day.  While sure, I have participated, and you probably have to, my perk is hearing, reading what others have done, gettin' my LMAO thataways. "Go away blogger, I don't want any AFD stories."

Too bad, so sad.

Toothpaste as Oreo filling. (They never said whether ya use a butter knife, or, tongue/fangs to get ridda the original yummy stuff.)

I saw pictures of cubicle people. I lived in cubicle land for quite some time.  What I remember, we were all grossly underpaid, spent an inordinate amount of time on Facebook, conspired together on how to make a manager's day hell.  Thus, AFD, right up the alley of a cubicle worker.

Yes, fill ones area with balloons... stryo packing peanuts... shrinkwrap the whole damn thing so there ain't no way in or out.  Cover EVERYTHING in sticky notes, or, aluminum foil, or, newspaper, or, Christmas paper..  and my own personal fav, bring your wireless mouse from home... plug it into buddy's computer... (take the mouse withya back to your cubicle).. every so often, move it.  I would think that would be especially fun if you had a bird's eye of their cubicle as you did.

Huggie diapers, open, with poured Mountain Dew and tootsie roll bits on 'em, allover their desk. 

Draw a spider on the toilet paper. There was a rumor in my hometown, a guy got into his buddy's house, stole every left shoe the guy owned.  Funny haha, had to wear golf shoes from trunk to work. Freeze a bowl of cereal and milk,  Serve it.

Flip the display screen upside down. I tried, couldn't do it.  Mebbe Moffitt or Terry can help.  Says, press CTRL ALT and Down arrow same time (opposite to return it to rightside up.)

Wiki actually has a page on AFD pranks.  At bottom, in references there's "NPR links to hoaxes", so I clicked it.  "Web page not found", but, don't worry, nonea these have been found either..  Amelia Earhart, 18 & 1/2 minutes of Watergate tapes, Jimmy Hoffa, your luggage, Atlantis, Waldo... funny haha.

As an aside, my all time favorite AFD, 4/1/1970, our Senior year.. a snow day and it wasn't a prank. Great mem. 

OK, I'm bored, so, I know if I am, you are too.

PLEASE, if you've partaken in any fun pranks, please share.. or.. if you've been the victim, please share that too........

Happy AFD,

Love, Victurd