Well, it looks like my surgery is going to be further down the road than I thought, even further than I was afraid it was going to be.  Mostly it has to do with insurance issues…have I mentioned how much I hate insurance companies?

I have?  Are you sure?  Okay, then there’s no need to go on…

Anyway, I’ve had my meds changed, and that has not been a good thing.  I am NOT going to get into the problems but I only mention it to say that today’s issue is not up to my usual standards and I apologize for that.  Trust me when I say, I’m doing the best I can. So, without further ado…

This is a GREAT prank!  I want to try it and I’d love it if some of you tried it, too.  Let me know how it works out.

And now, how about some points to ponder…

 

What harm indeed.

Speaking of harm, this is one of the funniest jokes I’ve ever heard.  And it’s all about harm.

Dear Sir:

I am writing in response to your request for additional information for my insurance claim. In block number 3 of the accident claim form I wrote, “trying to do the job alone” as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain that statement more fully. I trust the following details will be sufficient.

I am a bricklayer by trade. On the date of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six-story building. When I completed my work I discovered that I had about 500 pounds of bricks left over. Rather than carrying the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley which was attached to the side of the building at the sixth-floor level. Securing, the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out, and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went back down to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to insure a slow descent of the 500 pounds of bricks. You will note in block number 22 of the claim form that my weight is 150 pounds.

Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded up the side of the building at a very rapid rate of speed. In the vicinity of the third floor I met the barrel coming down. This explains my fractured skull and collarbone. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley.

By this time, I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope in spite of my pain. At approximately the same time however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the bricks, the barrel then weighed approximately 50 pounds. I refer you again to the information in block number 22 regarding my weight. As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the building. In the vicinity of the third floor I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles and the lacerations of my legs and lower body. This second encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell onto the pile of bricks and fortunately, only three vertebrae were cracked.

I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the bricks in pain, unable to stand and watching the empty barrel six stories above me, I again lost my presence of mind and let go of the rope. The empty barrel weighed more than the rope, so it proceeded at a rapid decent down the side of the building, landing on and breaking both of my legs.

I hope I have furnished information sufficient to explain why “trying to do the job alone” was the stated cause of the accident.

Sincerely,

A Bricklayer

You gotta love videos of GIs reuniting with their families when they come back from being deployed.  Brave men and women coming home from really crappy places where they had to do really crappy things and they get home and act like little kids themselves when it comes to their families.

More of our security personnel.  You don’t want to know how this one works.  Trust me.

I swear, this looks just like I feel every single morning.

I have been this drunk.  Several times.  I’m not proud of it, but there it is.

This is not just a dragon quip….it’s the honest truth.  And this week, with the new medicine messing with me and a huge, very important inspection team on base giving us the business every single day, and going to be here watching me teach all weekend…this very well could happen by the time you’re reading this.

That’s a GREAT excuse!  I’m going to use that one myself!

What a cool video.  I love stuff like this and it’s presented very well.

 

Okay, this may not be the best venue for this, but there are some things I have to say.  Lethal Leprechaun is my brother.  That doesn’t really mean what it says.  I have brothers who I love with all my heart, that I would go to the ends of the earth for.  Both of my brothers who are still alive have done just that for me.  They’ve both been there when I needed them most and they both would do it again.

No, when I say that Lethal is my brother, you have to understand what that means.  Your family is your family because they are blood.  I am extraordinarily lucky in the fact that I got good ones.  I know many people who don’t have it that way.  Their love for their family is there because they have to be. 

Lethal Leprechaun is my brother because we think the same way about things, we’d like to handle problems the same way, but since words like premeditated and blood-splatter-evidence tend to hinder our problem solving abilities, we tend to do it with words and logic and, like I said, we think the same way about things.

We’ve both been through some very similar history, and we suffer through some very similar problems.  We both love our country with a passion bordering on fanaticism and we both find in the other the respect and friendship that, if you are very, very lucky, you might find once in a lifetime.

I know, without a doubt that he has my back in all things, and I know, that if I called and said I need you, you have to come, he’d be on the next plane.

Somehow, I’ve given my brother the impression that I don’t have his back in all things, that I don’t have his (and by extension, Molly’s) six, that if he called, that I might not be there.  Something that I thought was completely understandably funny (you might notice that we tend to pick at each other a little bit.  Guys do that.  It tends to freak our females out sometimes) apparently wasn’t as funny as I thought it was. 

He has been there for me and I haven’t been there for him. 

I have no idea how else to solve this misunderstanding, hence, today’s Last Word. 

Now, my head is both wrapped in cotton and pounding like a friggin’ freight train.  I have to not only teach two classes this weekend, but do it on bum sticks and in front of inspectors who have no idea what it is that I do.  So, this issue, mistakes and all, is being posted and I’m for as much sleep as I can get in the next 5 hours.

Be well my friends, until next week.

Cheers.