Thirtysomething

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I remember turning thirty. It was a special time.
When people asked me how old I was, I said “Thirtysomething.”
People asked me what something meant. I’d reply “zero.”
Then I’d be asked “Shouldn’t you say ‘Thirtynothing’ instead of ‘Thirtysomething’ ?”
And I’d say “If silence can speak louder than words, nothing can be something.”
If I played tennis, I’d probably have said “Thirty – love.”
But I don’t. So I didn’t say it.
Now that I think of it, I never did watch that “Thirtysomething” show.
When I turn forty, I’ll also be thirtysomething. Something being ten, of course.

Smoking

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Andrew Ian Dodge considers the hypocrisy of smoking bans:

One thing that has always amused me is what happens to lefties when they get into government. I am not talking the far-left frothing loons; but the soft-left carrying and sharing type. The ones who used to bleat on about various crypto-fascist “regimes” in North America and other places. In power they ban everything they can find that anyone enjoys. The latest breach of our rights is the total ban on smoking in “public” places. I seem to remember one A. Hitler banned smoking in public places on the grounds it was an affront to the Reich. Labour uber Alles!

We have that problem here, too. Shelley Sekula Gibbs of the Houston City Council is behind an all-out smoking ban in the city, but she claims to be a champion of personal freedoms.
Go figure.

Olympics

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Halfway across the world, athletes in skin-tight polymer suits raced down snowy slopes and gracefully whooshed around flagpoles.
“Why are there no Spring and Autumn Olympics?” asked Mary, turning off the television.
Roger scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe there aren’t any Spring or Autumn sports.”
“I play horseshoes in the fall,” said Mary. “And we always play croquet in the spring.”
“I don’t think anyone would watch that,” said Roger.
“Do people really need to watch?” asked Mary.
“Good question,” said Roger.
Mary turned the television back on, but the network was now in a commercial.

100 Words

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Andrew Ian Dodge writes 100 words about 100 words…

I have 100 words to make you like me. 100 words to make you love me. Or is that 100 words to make you hate me. 100 words to make you respect me or would I rather you revile me? Why do I do this 100 word lark every day? What exactly does this writer, one, Andrew Ian Dodge, expect to get out of doing this daily exercise? Does he think he will be rich or famous or does he want both? I don’t have an answer and I am he. But then again do we always know our reasons?

I wonder if he’ll write 100 words about this?

Love

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Andrew Ian Dodge takes the holiday to heart…

Love is meant to make you happy. Or does it make you sick and helpless? Some say love will make you blind or crazy or mad or drugged. Love will make you do things you would never normally do, say things you would normally never say and think things you never would normally think. Love drives some to do bad or even evil. To fight, to maim and even kill in some cases. As we celebrate this Valentines Day can we truly say that love is a good thing? Or is it like everything else in life…does it just depend?

What do y’all think?

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 50

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It was Abraham Lincoln’s passion for mountain climbing that got him halfway up the peak’s face. His long limbs helped him scramble up the rock like a spider up a wall.
Usually, he’d get to the top and bellow gorilla-style, but this time he bored of the endeavor midway. His Passion fled.
“Passion has helped us,” mumbled Abe. “but can do so no more. It will in future be our enemy.”
Clinging for dear life, he looked down at the ground.
Far below.
Too far below.
Abe quickly developed a passion for not falling, and he climbed to the top.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 49

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Little Abe dangled his legs over the pier and cast the hook into the water.
“What are you fishing for today, Abe?” said his father.
“Whales,” said Abe.
“What kind of bait are you using?” asked his father.
“I’m using a toe,” said Abe.
“Where did you get that toe?” asked his father.
“I dug it up from the cemetery,” said Abe. “I was digging for worms, and I ended up with this toe.”
Abe’s father frowned. “Do you really want to eat a fish that you’ve caught with a corpse?”
“Whales aren’t fish,” said Abe.
“True,” said Abe’s father.

Loyalty

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When Oscar needed to travel, he stuffed himself into a crate and had himself shipped.
He didn’t mind the cramped quarters. He was a master of Yoga and liked the challenge.
His secretary pled for him to travel business class, but he insisted on the crate.
One day, the crate vanished. The cargo company said it was lost. The databases drew a total blank.
Despite top-down searches of every warehouse, Oscar never reappeared.
His secretary refused to give up, searching for years.
She stuffed herself into a crate, shipped herself, and vanished, too.
Maybe they’re together somewhere?
I hope so.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 48

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God looked at his To Do list and scratched his head.
“Who’s Lydia Bixby?” he asked his secretary-angel.
“She’s the woman who lost all of her sons in the war in America,” said the secretary-angel.
“Well, that sucks,” said God. “Any particular reason why she’s on my To Do list?”
“Abe prayed up a request,” said the secretary-angel. “Something about assuage anguish of bereavement somethingorother.”
“Can’t the man just send flowers like everyone else?” said God. “I’m a busy guy. I don’t have time for this.”
“Fruit basket?” asked the secretary-angel.
“Sure,” said God. “And send a puppy dog, too.”

Sitting on the Job

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Okay, we’ve got a first effort by Scot Ellison here… check it out:

When I was 16, I worked as a machinist.
One day I lost concentration, pushed the wrong lever and my thumb was badly
cut. My parents were visiting far away relatives, when the doctor called
for permission to stitch up my thumb.
A week later, as they came in the house, mom and dad were surprised to see
me comfortably seated. It took a moment to figure out that the doctor had
been misunderstood. My folks had been telling and retelling the story of
how I got caught in a machine and that I needed twenty stitches in my bum!

Very cool. I’ve been wanting to do a series of stories about things that happened in my life, but I’ll leave that to Scot.
Things about his life, not mine.
Anyway, if y’all want to record and post stories here, let me know and I’ll get them up here for all to enjoy. And don’t worry about shamelessly pimping your own sites and podcasts… it’s actually welcome here.