Cellphones were created to keep us connected 24/7. No room is off limits anymore, not even the bathroom.Continue reading
CANADA – A Country That Thinks it’s Above US.
An unnamed source in my head has credible intelligence suggesting that Canada is behind the recent blast of frigid air that has slammed the northern section of the United States.
To purge itself of freezing temperatures, Canada, reportedly, conspired with El Niño, La Niña and Mother Nature, or Madre Naturaleza, to blast a polar air mass across the Alaskan border into U.S. airspace. Just days after an arctic air outbreak forced the closure of several Canadian schools now under quarantine.
I’ve got the cure!
Call your Congressman!
Oh, that’s right. Your Congressman is on vacation, probably off somewhere with his mistress or mister downing shots of liquid cheer. Joy to the world and all that crap.
What’s that sound? It’s the echo from an avalanche of money cascading down the fiscal cliff.
I’m participating in Silly Sunday. Silly Sunday is the place to come for weekly laughs. Hosted by Rhonda of Laugh-Quotes.
This post is brought to you by My Life Scoop – get tips for a connected lifestyle at MyLifeScoop.com
Beam Me Up Honey!
Homestead Barco Transporter for People Who Hate to Exercise
Climbing up a flight of stairs can be tedious and exhausting, especially after a long day at the office. Hiking up twenty steps is the last thing you want to do and risk straining a muscle or falling down stairs.
With the Homestead Barco Transporter, the only step you take is into our highly customizable hover pod with comfy chair, Wi-Fi hookup, cup holders and folding tray table/steering wheel. Rising two feet off the floor, the Barco Transporter easily passes over thresholds and toys scattered across a room.
The Barco’s flexible design provides angle up and angle down trajectory with a turn of the steering wheel, and adjusts to fit through narrow doorways and corridors. The state-of-the art propo-air-flow motor propels it forward and in reverse.
Every Barco Transporter comes with its own helium tank. And refill tanks are delivered right to your door by a local Barco Transporter helium dealer.
You’ll relax in luxury as the Homestead Barco Transporter whisks you from room-to-room on a cushion of air.
No more sprained ankles from tripping over the dog or cat. No more breathless sprints to the bathroom or panicked runs to the baby’s room. Just speak a command into the microphone, and the Homestead Barco Transporter will take you to your pre-programmed destination.
The Homestead Barco Transporter is available in single or double units, reaches speeds up to ten miles per hour and is tough enough to handle the outdoor elements. Windshield wipers, heated cushions and rumble seat can be purchased separately, along with our highly intuitive one-touch chauffeur sleep mode.
If you order now, you’ll receive a month’s supply of helium and free scheduled maintenance for the propo-air-flow motor.
Why take a chance with physical exercise when you can hover in luxury in a Homestead Barco Transporter, a tech essential for inside and outside the house.
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Don’t settle for boring when you can dress up your monopole with a fun cell tower disguise!
Campy Cell Tower Disguises is the premier cell tower costume company, brightening lives since 1999.
Our staff of certified microwave Arborists can spruce up any dull cell tower spruce.
And transform this…
Just choose from one of our fun cell tower disguises.
Cell Tower Hat
Cell Tower Sunglasses
Cell Tower Hat and Glasses
Cell Tower Sunglasses and Mustache
Or this favorite…
Cell Tower Fake Nose and Glasses
At Campy Cell Tower Disguises, we are committed to finding the best cell tower disguise to fit your needs.
Why plant a lifeless 150-foot cell spruce in your yard when you can glow in the dark and have fun, too, with one of our Campy Cell Tower Disguises.
Campy Cell Tower Disguises,
If you don’t want to see the same old tower through the trees.
In two weeks, a hurricane, election and nor’easter passed through the collective consciousness – I wasn’t conscious. A week without electricity, another (almost) without cable, rendered me comatose.
On election day, a political discussion with a member of the opposing party didn’t go well. Not a good day to discuss politics. Note to self.
The week before, Hurricane Sandy blew past spicy hot Jamaican waters then headed north toward the east coast, breaking wind in Connecticut.
Afterward, the unwelcome guest left a mess.
We were the first to lose power on Monday, 10/30, at noon, the same day we received the warning: widespread outages expected. Not auspicious news for many of us in town hooked on well water – no electricity, no toilets – shit out of luck!
Unless, a noisy gas-guzzling generator plugs into the vitals in a house – water heater, fridge, microwave, and well, the well. We’re fortunate to have one, gas fumes, and all.
By Monday night, the entire town lost power. The day after, people wandered the streets dazed, waiting for the utility trucks that arrived five days later, eight days, for others.
On Thursday, 11/1, I drove into town, negotiating the obstacle course on the back roads, littered with deceased trees strangled by power lines. Like a game of Chutes and Ladders, a potential dead-end loomed around every corner.
A ten-minute drive stretched into a twenty-five minute odyssey; past flattened fences, upended trees and dismembered branches. Power lines flung across the road like spaghetti.
I spotted a CL&P car parked along a street. The driver looked like a retiree. “Any news on the restoration?” I asked.
Screaming, “Any news on the restoration?”
“They’ll be making an announcement later.”
If they made one, I missed it, because I had no fucking way of hearing one – CL&P, you suck! – or watching the election on Tuesday – Comcast, you suck!
Last year, at the same time, we lost power for 10 days following another October nor’easter, hoping CL&P doesn’t break that record.
As of Saturday, 11/3, Day 6, CL&P has a chance of being inducted into the restoration hall of fame.
At 4:30PM, The Ridgefield Press tweets: CL&P now reports 57% of the town has electricity restored and 43% is still without power. More crews are due Sunday.
I’m part of the 43%.
On Sunday, we saw the lights. Got juiced after 5 PM cocktails, a religious experience.
Monday, 11/5 – still don’t have cable, a luxury I can do without, not really. Are you listening, Comcast? You suck!
Finally, got online today, Thursday, 11/8, after countless phone calls to robotic customer service reps. Two days of stress. Two weeks of hell.
I would have been better off zoning out like the dogs.
It’s eight o’clock in the morning.The caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet.
“Bite down hard,” the dentist says, referring to the temporary crown he just stuck in my mouth.
“Only one more minute.”
A minute of silence, I hope, but no.
“I recently read a great book called …”
Why didn’t I take Jim’s advice and bring the iPod. He takes his isolation seriously in the chair. He also wears sunglasses. I should have listened to him. The sunglasses would have blocked the bits of glue and tooth that struck me in the eye like shrapnel.
The monologue continued.
“It’s historical fiction. I love historical fiction.”
I love peace and quiet.
“It takes place in the middle east.”
I hear it’s lovely this time of year in the PLO district.
“It’s a fascinating book about…”
I’m pretty sure a minute has passed though I did lose track of time when I nodded off, possibly from inhaling dental glue. I had a lovely dream about lying on a beach by the Sea of Galilee.
With the faux crown or your fucking story?
“Read the book in two days…”
I pray it doesn’t take him that long to talk about it. I have to go to work tomorrow. What if he plans to keep me here as a captive audience? What if I never leave the chair? I can’t even call 911 with my limited vocabulary.
911. What’s your emergency?
“I love all the James Michener books. Did you read…”
I had planned to until now.
“I just don’t know how much of the book is true.”
Dude, it’s historical fiction. It doesn’t have to be true.
He checks his watch. “I think it’s done.”
The tooth or monologue?
He sticks his hairy knuckles in my mouth to tinker with the temporary crown. It passes the wiggle test.
“You’re good to go.”
I bolt from the chair, jump into my car and back into a stone wall. Noooooo! I inspect the bumper that now sports a lovely stone dent etching. Can my day get any worse?
I arrive home and sit down at the computer to work on my book. An hour later, I sense an unidentified moving object in my mouth. I remove it.
“Nooooooo!” I stare at the temporary crown sitting in my hand when it should be sitting in my mouth.
I call the dentist. He’s out to lunch, literally and figuratively. I leave a message. Thirty minutes later, his assistant calls me back.
“Can you come over here now?”
So, I go over there now.
It’s two o’clock and I’m back in the chair, teeth clenched on my very temporary crown.
“I recently read a great book called…”
He starts telling me about the same damn book from the morning.
The dude’s got dentist dementia from sniffing too much dental redo glue.
Missing Since: 9/25/2011
Last Seen: En route from the washer to the dryer
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Helping widowed socks get back on their feet again!
Silly Sunday, co-hosted by Rhonda of Kibitz Spot and Laugh Quotes and Sandee of Comedy Plus. Rhonda is on a big adventure traveling the world until December 2, 2012. For more information about Silly Sunday click HERE.