Weaving...

As an escape, my excuse anyways,  I'll go to my local watering hole, sit at the bar, slosh a beer down, meet people... has very little to do with smart, attractive bartenders or an affinity for Miller Lite. Ok, maybe a tad.

Learning of people's life, day, brain, makeup, is extremely interesting to me, and of course, I read your brain and it's telling you I enjoy a beer or two. True, I do, but so is the other part.

Young man sits next to me...  he had a brief, almost whispered conversation with a barkeep... I thought I overheard the word suicidal... and, "I drove him to the VA Hospital."

I'd seen the guy before, had actually visited with him and knew of his love for mankind, all, but especially for fellow military members.

So, gulp, I asked.  He seemed relieved to speak of it.  Turns out, he'd received an early morning call from a buddy he'd gone to Iraq with in 2004..   known PTSD now., the words "I can't go on", the guy got in his car, made his buddy promise to wait for him as he made the 90 mile drive to get there ASAP.  "OK, promise I will."

By the time he got there, police were on the scene, he told them of their history, begged them to let him go in alone... they did... somehow, he helped the man in distress..  and he agreed to get professional help. . Drove him 90 miles to the local VA hospital for a 96 hour hold.  Told me, "I was in the same place 6 years ago and the only reason I'm still here is thanks to so many who came to my rescue."

I'm waaaay better in listening than speaking, but I told him how proud I, and certainly many, were of him.  WAY bigger accomplishment than winning a football game, teacher of the month, sales contest winner.  Because of him, a human carries on, still walks the Earth.

Of course this is anonymous,  maybe I'm wrong to share... but to me, so so uplifting, in a time, place, we're starved for uplifting. I too think, we who didn't serve need to be reminded of how proud we are of those who did... and the oft times ugly accompaniment that lives within daily.

The weaving part.  Specifically with him, his military brethren.  I've seen him sit and visit with my buddy Jim, my age, and a Bronze Star Medal hero from Vietnam as well as other combat veterans.  High, proud fabric, fellowship, modest, humble, all.

Cloth is made from woven fibers, as are people.  Family comes to mind. "He (or she) is of good stock."

A former girlfriend of mine was a widow. Her daughters had woven a wonderful comforter out of tee shirts from their father. Oh the tears, good, but too, sorrowful.

My cousin, also a Vietnam vet, now deceased, honored annually with a Christmas tree skirt made up of his ties stitched together around the entire base of the tree. 'Tied together,  forever.'

It takes a village. A Unit. A school district. A classroom. Peers. BFF's. Mates. Family. Coworkers.  A coach and teammates. The want of good for others. Perhaps even bipartisanship for the good of all.

"Dream Weaver ..  you can get me through the night". 'was a song about infinite compassion and love carrying us through the night of our trials and suffering.'  Never more true than the buddy of the guy on the barstool next to me.

Viva La uplift, fabric, weaving, humanity and love.

Harmony in a World of discord........

Victurd, we wanna see how you wiggle yourself outta this one......

I was kinda thinking the same thing........... ie, in life.  Real life.

I played high school football. SO, you think you're so dayum smart 'cause you went to high school?  Were you a dumb jock?  Bragging?

Well, nah... I was leading into the Chiefs Super Bowl quest.  OHHHHHHHHH, Goodell's godkids eh?  The owners of, ALL the flip-a-coin Ref calls.. We (says every NFL employee) want the Chiefs to win - do you realize how much revenue Mahomes, Reid, Kelce - TAYLOR SWIFT, bring in annually?  She alone, enlisting her bracelet wearing Swifties, responsible for $330-$331.5 Million to the NFL brand (increased viewership, merch sales, fan engagement, yada).

But... but...  I was talking football.  Like, the game........  I've never liked football.  I ain't watched since that player strike.  Ya can't see the men's hiney's, gimme basketball any ole day.  Football is brutality, we got enough'a that in every day life.

Ahm, ok, nevermind on football.  Howabout taste?  Whadda ya mean?  You mean like the sensory system in us humans responsible for taste perception?  Mebbe.  Well I like it all.  Took me one'a them Facebook surveys, there tweren't a dayum thing on that list of a hunnerd I haven't eaten.  Patooey, not me, fish, huh uh.  But, have you tried it?  Get outta town clown, no, haven't, won't, take your Zebco 33 and go jump in the lake.

Hmmm...  When I grow up, I want to be a veterinarian.  You mean a vegetarian? Oh yeah, that's it.  No shooting Bambi, or clubbing the Chick-fil-A cow over the head with one'a them bullet hammers.  Kale, broccoli, parsley sage rosemary and thyme for me.  Gimme a cheeseburger please, I'm studying up on these Philly Eagles, taking a break and I needs me a cheeseburger.  I thought you said no football?

Train of thought, sorry.

I'll never take a train.  Hearda derailment?  Bumps in the road no matter what ya drive. My Maserati does one-eighty-five, I lost my license, now I don't drive. I have a limo, ride in the back, I lock the doors in case I'm attacked.

Song change............ GIMME  YOUR HEAD WITH HAIR........... you makin' funna me 'cause I'm follicly challenged?  This BETTER not be a BLOND joke, do you have any idea how much time I spend Googling after you tell one?  I want the Mahome's cut Mr. Barber........ NO FOOTBALL FOR YOU.  (Victurd here). SOME, not all, but some, old fart hair coloring jobs are like, huh uh, please don't.

Speakin'o farts, that's in bad taste!  Oh, let your blonde/brunette/redhead hair down, laugh a little.  Ain't  you never seena a little kid giggle over a fart?  Actually, I prefer to use the term flatulence, and I don't believe it has any merit on social media.

I LOVE tiktok, you wanna rassle?  Facebook is for loudmouths, gimme a good book any old day.  If one day, social media is reduced to simply anything, all, AI.. would it still be called social media?  You'll have to ask them, they know everything. You're forgetting Mr. Peabody, HE knows everything, having graduated Harvard, age, 3, Wagna Cum Laude.

I tire of this discord.  Let's switch to love please.  What's love, got to do, got to do with it? What's love but a second-hand emotion?  Love means never having to say you're sorry.  I love rock and roll... I think I love you...  The power of love... Everybody loves somebody sometime... Hey, you've got to hide your love away.. What's it to you WHO I love?  Stop, in the name of love...  Love hurts.... I know, I need an aspirin.

Occasional use of an aspirin is ok, but daily use could lead to gastrointestinal bleeding, that's why I take acetaminophen.  I usedto, but I got an itchy itchy rash.  Shuddup old lady.  HELP, I'VE FALLEN (HE PUSHED ME) AND I CAN'T GET UP?  Blog writer, WHY did it have to be a MALE that pushed her?  BRB, looking up the opposite of misoginist.... misandry..  you, you misadryist!

I've got a headache.. You live in Buffalo eh?  You sure them oysters were fresh?  Prolly from the bumps in the road..  nah, I bet it was from that crap music on tiktok/Facebook.  Lover joltya?  

You say, "Goodbye" and I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello"

I say, "High", you say, "Low"
You say, "Why?" And I say, "I don't know"
Oh no

You say, "Goodbye" and I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello"

Why, why, why, why, why, why, do you
Say, "Goodbye, goodbye, bye, bye"?
Oh no

You say, "Goodbye" and I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello"

You say, "Yes", I say, "No" (I say, "Yes", but I may mean, "No")
You say, "Stop", I say, "Go, go, go" (I can stay still it's time to go)
Oh, oh no

You say, "Goodbye" and I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello, hello, hello"
I don't know why you say, "Goodbye", I say, "Hello-wow, oh, hello"

Hela, heba, helloa, hela heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa
Hela, heba, helloa, (hela) hela, heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa
Hela, heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa...

I haven't the foggiest why I wrote this, and, I wouldn't blame you if I were the only one still here.  I do have a haunch, and that's it's because we're so damn torn now, nerves on end, whateverinthe hell that means.  Hatrid seemingly runs rampant, sadly, every day. I'm wimpy. I like light.  Fun.  Discord is poopy. No fun. No soup for you when I absolutely love Campbells Chicken Noodle (even the crap WalMart makes).  I run from arguments.  Victor, you can't run.  OK, I get up and waddle from arguments.

Hela, heba, helloa, hela heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa
Hela, heba, helloa, (hela) hela, heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa
Hela, heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa, hela, heba, helloa...

Love, Victurd

Life is....

Exhilarating.  Exciting. Unknown.  Practice, never makes perfect... but helps.

Prepare for it. Study, work hard, take care of your body.

Run, walk, sweat, listen, observe, emulate.

Stop the 110% talk, but be ready with full effort at the bell.

Memories, conflict, resolution, high fives, fist bumps. Uplift, applaud those who maybe do it a tad better,  maybe even assist.

Frowns don't work, clowns are left behind, but humor serves as glue.

Use your arms properly and that includes embrace.  Don't allow noise to drown out the goal.

No one goes through life undefeated - grow from loss, error, upset. Mitsakes happen, try not to repete em.

Cheer others, even if the spotlight isn't on you.  Some days are diamond, some days are stone.

Comfortable sleep comes from knowing you've given your best effort.

Seasons change but the sun will eventually shine, same with you through effort.

Address, work on areas that are cumbersome for you, don't run from or avoid them.

Listen to your boss..  sure, add your opine if you feel it might make all better, but never forget, your boss is your boss.

Before you put those shoes in the trash that now have a hole in the sole, stare at em long and hard and smile at the memories, work it took to arrive at the need for néw pups.

Take pictures along the way... it'll allow you to look back and think,  "Man, he/she was sure fun... I'll never forget our times together. Can you believe we actually used to look like that?  What a great year 1970, 73, 84, 99, 2002, 15, 17,18, 19, etc was/were."

Life will lend us bumps, bruises, blisters, cuts, ailments, queisiness as well as YEAH BABY..  HELL TO THE YEAH.... next time, I'll be more prepared, make better choices, mountains of happiness, valleys of sadness.

Life is like Sports.

One could go back and assuredly change the title of this blog from Life is, to Sport is.

Both are real. Real fun. Unknown ends.  

I love life, sports. 

Go Chiefs. Sorry, had to stick that in there somewhere.

Today we'll all emote, moments of happiness, not so much, and share the excitement of what's to come. Life.

Then we'll watch the game.

Go, have fun. Have an extra taco, piece of pizza, chicken wing.

I'd like to think we all remember those who've touched our lives, maybe even up to 1,340 of em.  Memories can fade, but reminders happen,  "Oh yeah, I remember now."

1,340 have played for the Kansas City Chiefs. Some nerds, like me, remember darn near every one of em (from Hussain Abdullah through Frank Zombo.)

Now, I've had the time of my life. . No I never felt this way before (Sports bars with 73 big screens, FanDuel prop bets about "what color shoestrings so and so will wear.. Green or orange Gatorade.... National Anthem, over/under 89.5 seconds? Rushing yards for third string tailback?"

Never felt this way before... yes I swear it's the truth (it's the truth) and I owe it all to you..   Life. Sports.

Forward by:

Chris "Back, back, back, back, back" Berman,

Keith "Whoa Nelly" Jackson, 

Howard "Down goes Frazier" Cosell, and,

Harry "HOLY COW" Caray,

Love, Victurd

Wait a minute....

And when ya do, they say it seems like three minutes.  Twelfth car in line at Mickey D's ain't no fun.

Waiting in a waiting room for the Doc... germs. She looks worse than me. He, not so much either.  I wonder who has bronchitis, psoriasis, herpes simplex.

Me waiting for Doc, wondering, will I stay or will I go (I'm kinda fond of life here.)  My BP is ALWAYS way higher from waiting,  then, I make the trek back alongside the nurse, "slip your shoes off, let's weigh you", damnit do i haveta, even GREATER BP. I beg them to retest my BP in ten minutes, they usually give in, and yep, lower. Waiting can be poopy.

Cubicle eyes on the computer clock, c'mon 5 o'clock and how come Dolly only had to do 9 to 5? Basta's here make me start at 8. Older farts eyes on the combined calendar/DOB race to Medicare, take this job and shove it.

Hang on, hang around, loiter, line up, stay, bide one's time,  

Hurry up and wait. Cool one's heels, tarry, anticipate.

Alert, anxious, apprehensive, breathless, eager, expecting, hopeful, in suspense, on edge, and on tenterhooks. I have no idea whatinthehell tenterhooks means, no patience to Google it (ever blog on an Android?), I'll wait for Moffitt to educate me, or, L&L.

May I share a personal favorite story about waiting?  Victor, why ask, we know you're gonna anyways, and, odds are good we've already heard it once or three times.

Ahem, ok. My mom. Our creaky old house had a stairwell, ah, a landing area on the stairs from 1st floor to 2nd.  Dad was a traveling salesman, gone early Monday morning, to return at some point, time, Thursday.

Thursdays, Mom would sit on the landing, sometimes literally for hours, looking out the back window at the alleyway where his old station wagon would eventually appear.

Whenever, wherever I'm forced to wait, I try to remember mom, that landing, how beautiful it was to see, feel, her/their love.  Makes waiting not quite so ucky. 

We spend approximately six months of our life waiting in lines for things. 43 of those days are spent on hold for customer service.  Most of us are practiced at top of our lungs REPRESENTATIVE!!!

I don't really have advice on what to do while one waits.  I play Sudoku, do the pee pee dance in line at the men's room, envision, in that waiting room 'that one' being my girlfriend...well, providing she gets cleared up of,  bronchitis, psoriasis,  or, well...(all men are pigs), and if, in that waiting room someone continually stares, I pretend to pick my nose, then pretend to swallow said booger. Snot fun to be stared at.

Chiefs vs Bill's. Plenty of KC hate while we wait. We can almost hear the "I told you so's" the first time a ref tosses his flag. Or, "I KNEW she'd be on camera, im sick of it!" Swiftly, we don't care.  Plenty of us have waited and waited and waited for this. We've waited countless years thru "been down so long it looks like up to me." Can you say Elway, Manning, Brady as, compared to Bono, Blackledge, grrrrrrGrbac.

Don't wait for fun, have it. Don't wait too long to wing the L word.  Make the call, the text, the hug, the laugh, the compliment.  Tons of positive can happen in wait.

Unless the wait is toooo long in the men's room. That's why I always carry a book, or a jacket, so I can cover up. If I forget, I moonwalk out.

On deck today, a nap, the cinnamon roll in the fridge, filling my car up. That's exciting Victor? Uh huh, joined Sam's. Hardly ever a line, THIRTY CENTS LESS than QT.

Life is a QT, don't hate the wait(s), embrace it. And if you carry a book you can always read it.

Screw The Kinks and their "so tired, tired of waiting, tired of waiting for you."

Ya never know. Ya know?

Love, Victurd

Eight sentences I wish I'd read earlier in my life....

Even when you trust someone, keep some things for yourself. 

Boy howdy you 'big keyboard' Victurd, you screwed that one up long ago. 

Eh I dunno. I will admit, I get uncomfortable, turn the page when I read dirty laundry, family infighting, yada, on social media.

My take, (Victor, may I remind you there are 8 of these sentences, we can't sit here until February ya know), eh, whatever.  My take, sure, I'm ashamed of some things in life I've done, said..  sure, I still keep much private...  Two buddies here.. one in WA, said "I'd like to share but it's Facebook, cant share those feelings", understand.. annudder, a MO buddy, "sometimes you say things we are all thinking but afraid to say." Ahm, so, like, you want a medal Victurd?  Nope, just want to borrow your brain, hopefully make you think, occasionally,  hopefully laugh.

If you want something worthwhile, be ready for criticism.

Don't worry about this taking until February, this one is easy...  I can dish it out, but I can't take it. Stick that in your goo stained 1970's bong and smoke it, ha!

Your mental health is way more important than your career will ever be.  

No worries here.  Level best, I always, well, usually did. No bitey hand that feeds. (Forgive me Father, I did look Facebook, a lot, on company time, until they hired that 3rd, freelance, IT nerd who called me on carpet. Oh, and once..  ok, three times, I came in way early and printed 200 pages of Christmas Carols we used to sing at Nursing Homes.) Sorry. Kinda.

You become an unstoppable force when you realize you can do it all alone.

Can do, have done, oft times poorly,  but accomplished. 

Be ok with people not liking you. Most don't even like themselves.

Hey, I'm ok here.  Sometimes I don't like me. What bugs me the most is seeing folks who don't enjoy the moment, the day, their life. Now that, bugs me for there's nothing I can do to change that.

Not everything will go according to plan, be ready to adapt.

I call BS, the Royals will draft me, looooong career, Hall Of Fame, I'll make 20 bucks a signature at baseball card shows and Winnebago happily across the land.  VICTOR!  YOU'RE SNORING!  Oh, sorry Auntie Em, what's the next one?

You can always choose to be happy no matter what happens in your life.  Being sad should never be an option.

I try. I don't always succeed but thanks to smiles, laughs, hugs, niceness, Welbutrin and an occasional Miller Lite, I keep matriculating down the yellow brick road. Victor?  You can't afford Miller Lite. OK, bite me, Natty Light.

As far as being sad I disagree.  Sad, my book, plays a role in life.  No, we can't waller in sadness, but dadgummit, if ya don't feel (loss, pet rainbow bridges, illness of others, much) what's the point in being here?

Don't waste your time stressing about the things you can't control.

We are human, we all error here. Level best, all we can do. Hard to admit, we just can't control everything. 

I'd better go. I gotta pee.

Oops. Too late.

Oh well, be kind, be nice, don't worry (much), be happy, 

Love, Victurd 

Life, the boob tube and big screen.

My eyes hurt.

Sometimes they shed tears.

Occasionally they roll, accompanied by smirk, laughter, maybe even louder, guffaw.

Huh? Life, likens those. Those on screen who are fictional, but, have become (with apologies to Janis) a piece of my heart (and yours, hers theirs, yada.)

The glow of the tube, or the screen.

Yes.. . Life is a Soap Opera. The Days of our Lives, All My Children,  Guiding Light (is there one?), The Edge of Night and periodically General Hospital.

Family reunions are Al Bundy, Cousin Eddie, The Waltons,  Hoss, Ben and crew, Aunt Bea's green bean casserole,  Hop Sing's egg rolls.

Childhood is Dennis, Margaret, The Beav, Judy, Eddie, Lumpy, Bart (Heaven forbid), Gordie, Chris Chambers, Smalls, Squints, Ham Porter,  Daniel Larusso, Johnny Lawrence, with a little Ralphie, Webster, Dorothy, and Willis thrown in.

Whatchu talking about Victor?  Childhood. We see all them, and at some points in life we befriend similar,  make blanket forts, sell lemonade, girl scout cookies, sled, catch bluegill, crawdads, tell scary ghost stories, smoke our first cigarette (smokin' cigarettes and watchin', Captain Kangaroo... and Mr. Green Jeans, Rabbit)

And Tom Terrific, Barney and Fred, Rocky, Bullwinkle, Boris, Natasha, Mr Wizard,  Huckleberry, Bugs, and, da da da da da...da da da da da, Woody. 

Victor, all you're doing is Googling, reminiscing, bringing up names. 

Tell em Frank, that's life. We ape, we learn or rid morals, we empathize,  sympathize, size up, compare.  "He reminds me of....."  Mom, Gladys Kravits won't give us our wiffle ball back.  Maybe Karen will help you young punks relate.

High School, College - Ferris, Moe, Larry, Curly, Fonzie, Buffy Summers, Veronica Mars..

Early adulthood brings us Ross, Phoebe, Rachel, Jerry,  George, Elaine... Bluetooth, Otter, Flounder...

Parenting, oh my goodness. The gamat from Father Knows Best to Frank Gallagher. Sometimes,  we attempt to emulate one, and end up on the other end of the spectrum pulling hair out. You tell em Arch, Edith'll pat her foot. We see the brilliance of Andy raising Opie, so we prepare a speech and end up sounding more like Barney. Then, we might wonder "if hes so smart, such a good dad, how come HE aint married?" The Rollercoaster story in Parenthood.

A TV, movie stage for every age, range of our Lives.  Some are extreme, some we resemble...or, our friends, family, bosses, coworkers do.

We are what we Roku, stream, record/replay, Netflix and chill.  

We mimic our heroes, heroines.. . Aaaaaay! To the moon Alice!.. Book em Dano... I'd like to phone a friend.. D'oh!..  Come on down!  Hey hey...  Holy (whatever) Batman...  Jane, you ignorant s....   No soup for you...

Say...  you look like... you sound like... you oughta get your haircut like... 

TV, cinema... Wally, Piggly... there are hefty, skinny, black, white, red, blonde, brunette, follically challenged, rich, poor, sassy, happy, sad, fun, boring, confident, wimps, experts, sexperts...

I (watched) the news today oh boy..   then, twelve if us gabbed about it the morning over coffee at Mickeys, in the lunchroom... at soccer practice...

We scoff at the weatherman, lady, then run to Piggly and wipeout bread, milk, egg shelves.  We dress for it, we warn others. We are impacted by the little screen .. and the big screen.

When we roll the credits, ours are real... we put on fronts, portray, so to speak. We too, get caught in white lies.

We too have Roseanne's, Matt Lauer's, Rooster's (on The Ranch)... ostracized... huh uh, don't communicate with them any more.. For every Johnboy there's an Otis.

We see ourselves, our friends, bosses, family, or we don't- but, we continue to be entertained.

I know personally I reminded my ex of someone on TV cause she usedta point the remote at me and hit some button, I dunno, mute, change channel, on/off button.

Life would be boring without our ocular phenomenon friends. 

Say goodnight Chet.  Goodnight Mrs Calabash, wherever you are.  And that's the way is.  Good day.

By Henry Gibson, with Roy a pickin' and Buck a grinnin'.

Love, peace and soul,

TVicturd

Short one...

Good gosh you're perverted and in titling this I'm probably going against the grain of my own thought, point.

I'm old, I'm grumpy.

Ahm, Victor? Like, we didn't know that?

Ok, ok, my blog reputation precedes me.  

Are you like me?  Good gosh I hope not!  But, (Victor, you can't start a sentence with 'But'.)

But, does it turn your belly like mine to roll up to a four lane traffic light stop, and ya got one car (amongst your car, a car with a mom and two little ones, a car with an (even more) elderly couple and you are 'treated' to MAX VOLUME SONGS WHERE, 'CREATIVELY' EACH, EVERY VERSE INCLUDES AN F-BOMB OR SIX?

Continuing my Walter-like on golden grumpiness... many youths (Damnit Victor, that's discriminatory)...eh, whatever...   many youths, our moral 'cover up' has deminished so, there is no longer a verbal filter where me thinks a filter oughta be in place.

Bar soap has been replaced by fine, sensory, scented body wash, and it might even taste great, hell I dunno.

Victor, just how tall is that pedastol you envision yourself on?

OK, right you are.  I am, somewhat liberal (no, not politically... well I am, but that ain't what I mean here.)  I am somewhat liberal in fun, somewhat dark, KINDA push the R rated envelope, let hair down, enjoy, have fun..... but but but.   It's gone too far.  My opine anyways and yes I know I've done some pretty raunchy, Goofy stuff here, but hopefully i've never meant to offend.

Victor?  Where ya going?

Well, breakfast, then maybe to the gym, pickup some paper towels at The Piggly,  then, to a minor league hockey game.

No, no, no. I mean, where ya going with this blog?

So glad you asked! I've got two nieces I love to brag on.  The youngest one awakens at ugly-thirty as I do, so, we battle each other in Wordle, then relate, 'her day' and I in turn share 'my day.' They are both, of course, a generation younger.

In learning about her, her hubby's day yesterday, she related:

"Then we watched Carol Burnett, the Three Stooges and Scooby Doo in our little TV room, it was nice!"...

Far out!  Even farther out, she added:

"We often say that little room is like a Time Machine...I'm even thinking of decorating it in a 70's theme. Only rule is we can't take any tech/device in there. It's amazing what a distraction that is, with all the beeps and notifications...nice to go back in time, so to speak."

Youngsters (at least to me, and i think most of you),  going back in time.

We, on golden grumpy folk, cannot lay the blame of moral degradation fully upon the lap of the young.  Somewhere along the tug of war life grip, we slipped as well.

Never F... 

Huh?

Never Forget, the ones who stood before us who brought belly laughs without the need to include pungent. Skelton, Knotts, Conway, even more recently, Seinfeld. 

Ok, off my high horse...watch your F...

Feet.

Love, Victurd