Good Morning Campers,

Well………I have news……….and it’s not good news……….it’s not bad news……….it’s just a pain in the ass news.  They canceled my surgery.  Due to…are you ready for this….come on, you can guess…that’s fucking right!  Due to FUCKING COVID! 

I’m so fucking pissed. 

All elective surgeries have been canceled until further notice. 

That’s such bullshit.

And not a damn thing I can do about it. 

Probably at least through January. 

Now, there are a couple of minor pluses to this.  I can now take Mrs. Dragon to all of her special appointments.  And maybe that’s why this is all happening, so that I can be with her when she needs me.  I don’t know.  But, I’m still pissed.  But, what can I do?  Nothing.  Story of my life.  Well, now I just have a hundred things to deal with.  So, I guess that’s something. 

Anyway, let’s all get cheered up with some fun.

I just cleaned my kitchen floors using only my feet and some baby wipes without spilling my wine…if anybody needs a life coach.

Why does everyone force introverts to be talkative and leave their comfort zone, but no one forces the extroverts to shut up, even for a minute, to make the zone comfortable?

He told me he wants to walk me down the aisle.  I said sure and I drove him to the liquor store.

Remember:  When something goes wrong in the circus, they send in the clowns to distract the audience.  Well, something has gone very wrong with this circus, and the clowns are everywhere.

Go ahead…call me a Ho again, motherfucker!

The police just pulled me over and said, “Papers?” 

I said, “Scissors, I win!” and drove off. 

I think he wants he wants a rematch – he’s been chasing me for 45 minutes!

This is absolutely bloody marvelous! 

It was last Wednesday night, and I was sitting at home watching television. I was all nice and cozy wrapped in a blanket, Molly was asleep in my lap and the phone rang. Molly jumps up all scared, scratched my leg, and kicks me, you know where! I stumble up and trip on the blanket and fall on my face! I am not a happy camper at this point!

“Hello?”

A girl’s voice came over the line. “Can I speak to Ben, please?” Just Granny and I live here, and my name definitely is not Ben. It was probably a wrong number but I was not in a very good mood now.

“I’m sorry, he’s not in right now. Can I take a message?”

“Do you know what time he’ll be back?” she responded.

“I think he said he’d be home around 10:00.”

Silence on the other end… a confused silence.

“Is this Bill?”

My name isn’t Bill, either. This was definitely a wrong number.

“Yes, it is. Do you want to leave a message for Ben?”

“Well… he said he would be home tonight and asked me to call him…” she said in a slightly irritated voice.

I replied, “Well, he went out with Karen about an hour ago, and said that he would be back at 10:00.”

A shocked voice now: “Who’s Karen?!”

“The girl he went out with.”

“I know that! I mean… who is she?”

“I don’t know her last name. Look, do you want me to leave a message for Ben?” “Yes… please do. Tell him to call me when he gets home.”

She was sounding pretty irate at this point, and I could hear her temper flaring. “I sure will. Is this Jennifer?”

She exploded this time. “Who’s Jennifer?”

Apparently she wasn’t.

“Well… he’s going out with Jennifer at 10:00. I thought you were her.

Sorry… it was an honest mistake.”

“Ben’s the one that’s made the mistake! Tell him that Alice called him and the she’s very upset and that I would like him to call me as soon as he gets home.”

I smiled and said, “Okay, I will… but Becky isn’t going to like this…”

CLICK

So much for their Merry Christmas, HUH!!

Have you ever given the finger to a text message? 

Or is that just me?

As a matter of fact, I have!  Today, even!

To better help you understand Dr. Fauci, The CDC, WHO and the many other experts (So Called) when they get on TV and explain the variants, the vaccines the mandates and so on, here are the definitions of some of the phrases they may use.

“It has long been known”

I didn’t look it up but, I think I remember hearing about it one time.

“A definite trend is evident”

This data is practically meaningless.

“While it has not been possible to provide definite answers to the questions…”

There’s been unsuccessful experiments and worthless theories flying all over the place but, we still don’t know our ass from a hole in the ground, so I’ll guess.

“Three of the samples were chosen for detailed study….”

The other results didn’t make any sense.

“In my experience”

Once.

“In case after case”

Twice.

“In a series of cases”

Thrice.

“It is believed that”

I think.

“It is generally believed that”

A couple of others think so, too.

“According to statistical analysis”

Rumor has it.

“A statistically-oriented projection of the significance of these findings”

A really wild guess.

“A careful analysis of obtainable data”

I called the Facebook Fact checkers.

“It is clear that much additional work will be required before a complete understanding of this phenomenon occurs”

I don’t understand it….and I never will.

“After additional study by my colleagues”

They don’t understand it either.

“It is hoped that this study will stimulate further investigation in this field.”

I am pleased to feed you bullshit.

 

God Bless you Pete!  And the stuff that you send me! 

Bob, I wrote this a few years ago and I don’t know if I sent it to you before or not so….here it is. 

The cost of a gift.

 It was a Christmas many, many years ago. A four year old little girl was filled with the expectations of all that is Christmas. Wide eyed with joy and excitement over the thought of Santa Claus coming down her chimney and leaving her a present, full of wonder of what it would be, a new baby doll, maybe a bicycle, maybe even a new doll house. She wondered and hoped as she fell asleep that Christmas Eve.

 What that little girl did not know was that her family had fallen on very hard times. This was a time long before unemployment payments, food stamps and all of the other safety nets we have today, times were hard, very hard and there was very little money for even putting food on the table for this Mother and Father and their five children, let alone buying Christmas presents for them. But still, the little girl slept that night comforted in the believe of the magic of Christmas.

 She awoke that Christmas morning to find one gift with her name on it, with newspaper as it’s wrapping. Inside she found a book, a used book, a book so used and worn that the cover was long gone. It was the only thing her Mother and Father could come up with to give her but, it was something. Now, I know what you’re thinking but, the little girl loved that book, she loved it so much that she carried it with her everywhere and asked anyone and everyone to read it to her. She had so many people read it to her that even though she could not read, she could read that little beat up, worn out little book because, she followed the words as it was read to her. She loved her book so much and that love of books and reading would follow her all the days of her life.

 I know this story to be true, the year was 1922, the book was Little Black Sambo and the little girl….that was my Mother.

 My Grandma and Grandpa Sutton’s inability to pay for a gift gave my mother the greatest gift she could have received that Christmas morning. They gave her a hunger for the knowledge, the stories, the adventures and thrills she found in books and love of reading that followed her for the next 95 years of her life.

 The cost of that gift was simply the love Grandma and Grandpa had for a four year old little girl.

May you find the real gifts, the real love and the real magic of Christmas this year…..

Pete

And yes, it is a true story.

We were a poor family and it was a bone-chilling cold winter. My Daddy asked me what I wanted for Christmas. Knowing full-well that “Santa” couldn’t afford the new bicycle I really wanted, I answered, “Well, Dad, I’d like a new pair of corduroy pants and something small to play with, if that’s okay.”

Impatiently, I waited for Christmas morning, and of course, I couldn’t race downstairs until I heard Mom and Dad stirring around down there, getting breakfast going. Cautiously, I crept down the stairs and looked over the banister rail at our lovely (but scantily decorated) Christmas tree. I could see at least one box that I was sure was for me!

Trying my best not to rush over to the tree to confirm my hopes, I went into the kitchen, and after we finished breakfast, Mom suggested we go into the front parlor and see what Santa had brought us. Mom could tell I was itching to see my gift, so it was the first box she distributed. Sure enough, it was the box I spied on my way downstairs earlier. I eagerly tore off the (re-used) wrapping paper and the little home-made bow, lifted the lid and….

There was the most magnificent pair of dark brown corduroy pants I’d ever seen! Mom said, “Try them on, son, and see if they fit you.”

I whisked off my pajama bottoms and pulled on my new pants. “Did Santa bring me something small to play with?” I asked.

Dad said, “Well, Son, put your hands in the pockets of them-there new pants!” I did as directed. The bottoms of BOTH pockets had been cut out!

Sadly, that, too was from Pete.

Holiday shopping advice for men:

When your significant other hints that she wants puppies for Christmas, it’s always best to get clarification before scheduling her an appointment with a plastic surgeon.

Okay, Stephanie sent this to me, and I read what she wrote BEFORE I looked at the picture.  She wrote:

Ok, this really isn’t what you want to see next door. Probably loud, slightly drunk, might even have a radio. What I want to know is, if he is using a crutch, how did he get up there.  

So  my first thought is, “What the hell is she talking about … then I clicked on the picture that went with it…

So Stephanie, dear Stephanie, I agree with all of your questions and have one more … What the fuck? 

And with that, sadly, I’m out of time.  I’ve got to get to sleep.  Sorry this one is a bit shorter than usual.  Love and happiness to you all.