Stereo Speakers

I bought a new pair of speakers for my stereo.
Why are they called speakers?
They’re not speaking to me.

A Mystery…

Why is it dolphins have an easier time
pronouncing the word “hullabaloo” than humans?


You can never tell how your dietary habits will change.
I stopped eating potatoes when my wife started to look like one.

Astronomy for Beginners

If the Earth is round and has satellites orbiting it,
why can’t our heads, which are also round,
have satellites orbiting them?

Exchange Student

My mother wanted to enroll me in a student exchange
program but Russia wasn’t accepting 1st graders.


Preface (to my book Answers to the Mysteries) by Albert Eyenstein

When I was approached by Richard to write the preface to his book, I naturally requested that I might read the manuscript first. Unfortunately Richard was having problems at the time, robbers broke into his house stealing all of his notes and leaving Vatican tour guides in its place. So here I sit in front of my computer composing the opening to a book that I not only haven’t read, but one who’s subject I am also totally unaware of! Circumventing this problem, I decided to instead write about its author.

Richard is a man of many talents, one of which includes being able to distinguish between a man who’s 6’3″ tall and one who’s 5’10”. In early 1965 he also settled a thousand year old controversy when he proved that the Earth DOES have a moon circling it. He did this by looking into the sky and pointing directly at it.

Richard was born and raised in New Jersey. In high school he became the subject of controversy when he nominated a blue whale for senior class president. During the 1960’s when the country became preoccupied with ecology and health food, he saw these as foolish distractions and stated that the only way to save the world was through heavy and systemically organized pollution.

I met Richard in 1975 when he helped me test a theory about the speed of light. A camera was programmed to take his photograph at 1/5000th of a second. A second photograph of Richard was taken in Europe under the same conditions but this time it took 3 days to take the same picture. This proved conclusively that the speed of light isn’t a constant in the world. (It’s slower in Europe which explains a lot of things.)

Richard and I shared many ideas about the arts, sciences and public bathrooms. We would sit for hours discussing Hungarian philosophy and its relationship to clean underwear. We took many walks along the Nile River wondering how we got there, and we never missed an opportunity to shove a soccer ball down some loudmouth’s throat. In April of 1977 we built and successfully launched a moon-rocket containing an 8 by 10 inch photograph of a dog brushing his teeth.

I now return to the subject of his book. I do know that the name of his book is “Answers to the Mysteries”, and from my experience of knowing Richard, I’m sure that whatever those mysteries are, it will be an exciting book worth reading, rereading and maybe even reading again. Then again, don’t quote me on that.

Before & After

cosmetic surgery

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Putin has RETURNED…

christmas trees, putin

…and prepares to cut down a forest of  trees!

It’s a Holdup!

“Do you have a gun?” she asked.
“Do I have a gun? Why do I need a gun?” he said.
“Because you do.”
“I can’t rob a bank without a gun?”
“Not the one we’re going to,” she said.
“They won’t give me any money if I don’t have a gun?” he asked.
“That’s right.”
“You mean that I have to have a gun in order to rob that bank?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I got a knife.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “And it’s only a penknife anyway.”
“It looks threatening.”
“You need a gun.”
“How do you know that?” he asked.
“It’s in the employee handbook. I had a friend who worked there and she told me.”
“How about my note. Is it good?”
“Let me read it,” she said.
He handed it to her.
“This is not good.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Holdup is spelled wrong. Money is too. Didn’t you spell-check this?”
“No, I didn’t think it was necessary.”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“Forget the note then!”
“You can’t forget it. You need the note.”
“Why? I’ll just tell them that it’s a holdup,” he said.
“It’s in the employee handbook too.”
“Do you have a copy of the handbook?”
“Yes,” she said, handing it to him.
He did a quick read through the chapter on robberies.
“It doesn’t say anything here about needing a gun.”
“On page 57 it says-“
“The perpetrator must have a weapon,” he said, interrupting her.
“That’s right,” she nodded her head in agreement.
“It doesn’t say gun.”
“Not specifically, but my friend at the bank says that’s how the employees interpret that. That the robber has to have a gun.”
“And the requirement of a note isn’t even mentioned,” he said.
“Yes it does. At the top of page 59 it says,” taking the book from him and reading, “’a note produced by a computer printer is preferable over a hand written one when demands are made.’”
“And further down the page,” he said, grabbing the book back and reading, “’if no note is provided, verbal instructions are acceptable.’”
“I’m telling you, they won’t give you any money without a gun and a note. And the note can’t have any spelling errors. It would also help if you provided them with a resume.”
“What?” he said, surprised.
“The resume should list your past robberies, how much you made, what you accomplished, etc. And don’t forget to include references and people to contact in the event of an emergency.”
“Why can’t we just rob a different bank?”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re expecting us,” she said.
“I’m confused. It’s a robbery. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“That’s why I picked this place. They’re very accommodating. They scheduled us for a 2 o’clock robbery.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I called and asked.”
“When you could rob the place?” he said.
“Yes, and they were nice enough to give us a timeslot on a busy day and you can’t even follow the rules in the employee handbook and have a gun and a properly written note.”
“This has gotta be a dream.”

The Chapter 9 opening in my book 5 Pumpkins & a Head.

another another another Passage

“My dog died,” she said.
“No!” he replied. “You loved that animal. How long did you have him?”
“About 15 years.”
“What will you do? Bury him in the backyard?”
“No. In a pet cemetery.”
“That’s nice,” he said.
“But I ran into problems.”
“It started at the wake.”
“What happened?”
“I lit some candles and had a CD playing his favorite song, Elvis singing ‘Hound Dog’.”
“Who attended?”
“There must’ve been about 20 cats and dogs and a bunch of parakeets there. I tried training one parakeet to deliver the eulogy. My dog loved birds and I thought it would’ve been nice but the bird just kept saying, ‘You’re going to hell! You’re going to hell!’ It belonged to a minister.
“The next day I called the pet cemetery and made arrangements for burial but the place couldn’t accept delivery for 2 days. In the meantime, I wrapped my dog in aluminum foil and put him in the freezer. However, I forgot to tell my Mom.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, it wasn’t. She reached into the freezer and pulled him out thinking it was a steak all ready for the oven. Two hours later he was cooked. Luckily I stopped my Mom before she took a bite.”
“I agree.”
“So I decided to put my dog in a safety deposit box in a bank. When Friday came and it was time to take him to the cemetery, I went to the bank to discover that the IRS had a court order to open up box 163 but mistakenly opened up 164, which was mine. Well, they were pretty surprised to find a cooked dog inside.
“The bank employees disposed of my dog by putting him into a trash compactor. I explained the situation and he was returned, but not before he had been squeezed down to half his former size.
“So I took my dog, put him in a bag, and returned to my car. When I got there a thief robbed me at gunpoint taking my wallet and the bag. I tried telling the thief that there was nothing but a dead dog inside but he didn’t believe me and took it anyway.
“After I got home the police called and said they got the thief and I could pickup my stuff. I rushed over, grabbed the bag with my dog and headed to the pet cemetery.
“The man at the cemetery asked me a lot of questions why the dog was cooked, compacted and wrapped in foil and I explained.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. Just gave me a look.”
“And the burial?” he asked.
“It was arranged for Sunday so I went home happy. However, on Saturday, I got a call from the manager of the cemetery. They had made a mistake and cremated my dog, but the mistake was discovered in time so only half the dog was cremated.
“When Sunday arrived, I was getting ready to leave for the burial service and I got another call from the manager. This time he said my dog had somehow got mixed in with some paper documents that were headed for an industrial shredder and, well, my dog had been shredded. At that point, I was in tears.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked.
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Did they finally bury the dog?” she asked.
“Yes, in pieces. I never made it to the service. I was too grief stricken.”

The Chapter 7 opening in my book 5 Pumpkins & a Head.