Tuesday, July 30, 2019

Moments of Thankfulness

To any and all of you out there who ever contributed a happy moment to my life - thank you.


Friday, July 26, 2019

How I love this city!

R-Train Preacher's Rant (transcribed with text to speech on my Android with punctuation edited by me):
"Satan walks hand in hand with the MTA and Donald Trump! See this window? (Smacks window with his open palm.) This window isn't new, it's from the 18th century. The MTA wants you to fall through this old glass onto the tracks and die - just like Donald Trump wants you to die! Why? because you have sinned against GOD! Yeah, you all look at your phones and say, 'Not me!' You want to ignore me? You want to look at Google and Facebook? That's fine! Wait until the MTA and Donald Trump push you onto the tracks because you are SINNERS IN THE EYES OF THE LORD and belong to SATAN! And you will whine and beg, (baby voice) "Oh but Jesus, I didn't know! I wanted to look at what my friends had for dinner! I wanted to peek at my ex girlfriend's selfie in a bikini!" And Donald Trump will laugh with the MTA because YOU KNEW! You heard the prophets of God, AND YOU LOOKED AT YOUR PHONES AND DIDN'T LISTEN!!!"



Monday, July 01, 2019

Memory Lane

I've been amusing myself by reliving inconsequential childhood memories. 

For example: When we were kids, my sainted cute little Sicilian mother always bought off brand Path-Mark Pop Tarts. There were zig-zagged lines on the back. I called them "Airplane lines." Why? Because as a kid in the 1970s with rabbit ear TV antennas, every time an airplane went overhead, the same zig-zag lines would cover the screen.

Like I said, inconsequential.

Speaking of Memory Lane... Back in the day, I attended Liberty Corner Elementary School in New Jersey. Someone had abandoned a car in the woods, right at the edge of the school's property, (In my mind it was a Model T but who knows, it could have been Model Anything up to the 1970s. Our teachers always told us at recess to stay away from it - which we ignored.

Anyway, for some reason - like the boy who exploded after consuming Pop Rocks and Coke, or the girl who had her head ripped off by a ride at Great Adventure - we had the urban legend going that there was at least one skeleton underneath the car, and that at night it would rise and haunt the neighborhood. I remember Mrs. Rooney (my first grade teacher) telling us in exasperation that skeletons aren't real. Of course, me being the know-it-all smart-ass that I am, I had to make the point that yes they are, they just don't come to life.

How to win friends and influence people, 101.

In other news, The Most Honored Papasan was hospitalized a few weeks ago with pneumonia - which is a pretty scary thing for someone who is 87. Fortunately, he's home and recovering.

And there was much rejoicing.