Fuji Water and Body Wash- Do Not Use It! It Can Kill You!

I know most of you have led a sheltered life and you don’t have the faintest clue what Fuji Water is and I know you are not going to worry about it  because you feel sure that I am going to tell you whether you want to hear it or not.

Well don’t be so damned sarcastic. This is serious business. You can lose various body parts or your head and even your life just by wearing Fuji Water or any sweet-water in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It just happened to me yesterday. I’m lucky to be alive but let me tell you how it all happened. I have a cousin who lives far from civilization. Her name is Pearline Packard and she lives in Downtown Atlanta. Every year along about Christmas, Pearline sends me a gift. I never reciprocate because I am afraid this thing may escalate and ruin my reputation as a real man.

Pearline sent me a bottle of Fuji Water. It gets worse. Katie Mae insisted I use it! I would have flat refused to even open the bottle but Katie Mae is still pretty strong and I have aged a good bit. I’m pretty sure she can whup my ass. To tell the truth I think she always could. I just had her believing that I am a martial arts expert. I told her I know Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Jiu Jitsu, Karate and some more Oriental words like that. I had her water-buffaloed…… I thought.

Anyhow, being a survivalist, in my own small way, I took this bottle of venom into my shower. My son Paul had already sniffed the top of the open bottle and declared this stuff was too sweet and too loud. When I had first smelled it I decided it was a bit more subtle than I had thought it would be but once I got the shower hot and steamy I opened that bottle and a pure Satanic essence of hell floored me. I fell down in the shower. I was worried about using it but I was afraid not to. I finally overpowered my intense fear and washed my left leg with the body wash. Just my left leg and suddenly the bathroom smelled like a shuttle bus full of French whores. I fell again.

When I left the house I found my car wouldn’t start. Kay got me half-way to the Coumadin Clinic before the scent overwhelmed her and she made me get out of her car. I walked to the Coumadin Clinic where the pharmacy student who checks my blood made me move from one side of her desk to the other. Then she made me leave the room and sit in a hallway. She ran by my chair and threw the needle at my finger like a dart. It wasn’t as embarrassing in the hallway as you might think because everybody cleared the hall when I got out there.

I’m telling you, if you are a manly fellow, steer clear of Sweet Water, Loud Fuji Water and Body Washes. They can only get you killed unless you are a girly man and it’s expected you will wear pretty perfumes.

I tried to catch a bus back home but we had only gone a couple of blocks before the students on board kicked me off the bus and then they began to throw heavy volumes of scholarly books at me. I still have knots on my head. The sorry bus driver took advantage of my pathetic circumstances and tried to run me over with his bus. He ruined my right foot. It’s flatter and longer than the left one.

It took me three hours to hobble back to the house. I had to limp through the hood and I was apprehensive about my safety but I shouldn’t have worried.

Nobody came within fifty feet of me.

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With This Ring…..Before He Said…..I Thee Wed.


Blind with love the befuddled young guy took her to Wendy’s and he sneaked her new engagement ring into a Frosty milkshake. Then to be sure she found it quickly so he could go ahead and pop the magic question he engaged a few of her friends to challenge her to make fast work of the shake. She did and she also made fast work of the ring right along with the contents of the shake. I should rightfully state that things went south after she swallowed the ring but, fortunately, two days later he indeed got to pop his wonderful question after the ring popped up ….or out….or whatever. Anyhow she decided to marry him in spite of his silly, chilly ring delivery.

Then there was this teacher and teachers should know better than to play in traffic but that is exactly what the boy had to do after he had his intended (and friends and family) meet on a pedestrian walkway of the Brooklyn Bridge so he could ask that same soul-binding marvelous question to his beloved. You guessed it. He dropped the ring into the middle of traffic below the pedestrian walkway. He had to do a chimpanzee routine of climbing down and dodging trucks and cars in the roadway to find the ring. She was so impressed with his simian like skills she decided to take him up on the offer. He had to get the ring repaired and cleaned up before they could use it in the wedding.

This fellow from London did them all one better. He never got the ring back. He had a balloon shop tie the ring, which cost over $12,000, to a helium balloon that was snatched from his hand by a gust of wind as soon as he left the shop. He chased the balloon for two hours but it got smaller and smaller until it was a little bitty dot and then he could no longer see it. She said she would marry him but now he has got to buy another ring. He was reported to have said, “I felt like such a plonker.” I don’t know what that word means but if he made it up I don’t blame him. If I lost a ring worth twelve grand “Plonker” wouldn’t even begin to describe my stupid tail.

A Chinese man was inspired by romantic movies that depict the leading man hiding the engagement ring in a cake for a girlfriend. “I imagined the surprise on her face mixed with happiness,” he sadly told a reporter. The really tough part for her was when he got down on one knee to propose and she realized she had swallowed the ring. She fainted. Happily I can say things did not go south in their situation. He got her to a hospital where the doctors used a catheter to retrieve the ring. Women are so wonderful. After all that unnecessary abuse, she accepted his proposal.

This is my favorite.

An English boy has a great imaginative heart. He is a craftsman in the Light Dragoons (I’m just like you. I have no idea what that means).

Anyhow, His relationship with his lovely girlfriend was about to crash and burn and so to save this crumbling relationship he thought it would be clever to emulate the romantic magic of the movies. There was a slight problem with his idea of romantic magic emulation. I think he was in his underwear and running shoes which may or may not be a good match.

He streaked across a Premiership football ground (during a game) and he fired red roses from a bow just like a big old cupid.

Even though this occurred on Valentine’s Day it went over a whole lot worse than tying a twelve thousand dollar diamond engagement ring to a lead balloon.

First he was arrested. Then the serving soldier was told he could face a court martial. To add insult to injury, his girlfriend was so appalled and embarrassed by his behavior that she dumped him.

If that wasn’t enough, even more misery was heaped on his shoulders when he was fined £200 and banned from all football matches for three years.

Outside court, the crestfallen 20-year-old said: ‘I’m sorry for what I did but I never realized it would cause so much trouble. I just wanted to impress my girl and it backfired really badly.’

He said he ‘genuinely thought’ he could rescue their failing relationship by acting as Cupid and he said, “Now I have no girlfriend.”

Don’t you just love this guy. Nothing he did worked for him but he certainly did it with style and flair.

The other guy with the balloon story was probably lying. He never had the ring to start with. He used a faux diamond that he let float away on a balloon and I’ll bet the girl doesn’t believe him either. She wants another ring just like the one he supposedly lost on the balloon.

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Soon Taboo…To Tattoo…Your Cat, Your Dog, and Even Your Hog

I think everybody in this country should be aware that another American bastion of Liberty is being attacked by the US Government. New York is once again the dreaded keystone state that is going all out to take away another God-given right that has been established for centuries between a man and his beloved barnyard buddies.

Recently the New York governor and legislature have addressed the problem (as they see it). Up until now it has been perfectly legal in almost every state for good citizens (referred to in news reports as, “Narcissistic animal lovers”) to have their dogs and cats forced to endure permanent, decorative tattoos and body piercings. Pet pigs are bound to be next in the coming up mix.

New York Governor Andrew Cuomo is biting at the bit for the chance to sign legislation that will abolish the tattooing. Who is going to speak for the animals?” How can Governor Cuomo be so self-assured as to think he can decide whether my cat wants twelve nipple rings or not. He must be crazy.

You just wait and see. It won’t be six months before Governor Nathan Deal of Georgia is going to have spies out on every farm in our beautiful Southern state just peeking in barn doors checking our hogs for tattoos. I don’t know about dogs and cats but I know our pigs love their tattoos. If a rattlesnake bite can’t hurt a pig, a tickle from a tattoo needle may be more pleasure than pain.

Anyhow, we scattered all our tattooed sows and boars in the swamp bottoms along the Oconee River. We’ve got so many tattooed pigs in the swamps that many meth-manufacturing dope-heads are leaving the bottoms in droves. The sight of so many technicolored pigs have them going into hallucinatory convulsions.

It’s really sad. I can barely stand the thought of some swamp rat shooting one of our beloved pet pigs and then frying the pork skins down by the river. I keep having a bad dream that ends with an old swamp boy feasting on a multi-colored tattooed fried pork skin. The tattoo reads “Porky Loves Petunia” inside a big red heart.

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I’m getting a butterfly on my right cheek and a bracelet on my arm with “Frank Sinatra” on it.


1961 – Don’t Let Your Love Lights Shine on Me!


Good looking legs…..illuminated tires or not.

I know you are trying to remember the words to the old Bobby ‘Blue’ Bland song “Let Your Love Lights Shine On Me.” Maybe you can’t remember back to 1961 so you can only get back as far into your memory as the Grateful Dead version. That would be about the same time you burned out most of your memory and all your brain with stuff you insisted on ingesting and smoking. Stuff that left you with no brain and only a memory with holes in it like Swiss-cheese. A memory which still pretends to be your brain.

So now you might want to know what this has to do with the Goodyear Tire Company inventing illuminated tires back in that same year (1961, remember) and why those beautifully glowing tires might have been so quickly discontinued.

All you have to do to get the answer is to take a quick look at the picture above. There is a good looking gal all decked out in her finest in the awkward position gals get themselves in when they try to see how their backside is looking in public. What better place to check it all out than when you’re partially hidden by your car and you have tires that shine like 100 watt bulbs to light up your legs like the midnight sun.

No, this unfortunately is not a better place. It’s a horrible idea because cars are more likely to run over you if you stick your feet and legs under the tires to see how you look in the light. This is especially true if you are checking your legs later in the evening after you’ve had a margarita or two and the guy behind the wheel has got half his body outside the window so he can help you check out those lovely limbs.

So now you know the answer. Illuminated tires were quickly dropped as a hot idea by tire makers after a rash of lawsuits from multitudes of women with broken legs and flat feet……………. not to mention an equal number of men with misshapened and fairly flat heads who had apparently sneaked under the cars so they could sneak peeks at the gals.

Fortunately for the guys the illuminated tires helped light the scene for the emergency workers.

If I can help you with answers to other puzzling questions please fail to ask me. I tire easily.

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Old Folks – Raving and Body Surfing

Rave 3

This is a rave. Young people are raving. It takes little imagination and no brains to create or participate in a rave.


Here is another example of a rave. no matter how a rave looks, it takes the same amount of brains and creativeness to participate in the rave. A zero amount.







It has been known for sometime now that we all think we should be friends, buddies and pals with our children. We want to look like them, dress like them, act like them and  have all the fun they are having. We want to go to a rave with them even though we are old now and we do not have the physical ability to participate in a rave. This is a good thing because a few of us will actually need a brain at sometime in the future and it is well known that if you had a brain before you jumped into the rave you will not have your brain any more when you are bodily flung out of the rave.

In keeping with this line of thought, some organizers in England who were probably former rave arrangers decided to reach out to (obviously younger) people and meet them halfway on the road to sheer insanity by making an opera more excitable and more fun for them to attend. This seems to be a great idea since most younger folks would rather suffer through four hours of severe upper leg cramps (in both legs) than go to the opera.

They proposed making the opera more appealing by having the audience members stand and noisily cheer the performance rather than quietly semi-clapping their daintily gloved hands. This was based on their belief that a little more action from firing up the crowd would liven up the entire evening.

So they had Handel’s “Messiah” performed at England’s Bristol Old Vic Theatre.

When the performance moved to the stirring “Hallelujah Chorus,” a prominent and half-crazy theoretical chemist named David Glowacki became slightly unglued and attempted to crowd-surf in front of the stage. He said he could not control himself when they broke into the “Hallelujah Chorus.”

This is written as a warning to you older people who think you can fall-in with the younger nut-cases and “crowd-surf” your way through life.

I’m not sure if the fact that Dr.Glowacki’s being an expert in non-equilibrium molecular reaction dynamics had something to do with him evidently losing his equilibrium and flinging his body length-wise on the heads of unsuspecting swells of the upper class.

All I’m sure of is, crowd-surfing like a sixteen year old at a rave can get your fat fanny tossed out the stage door of England’s Bristol Old Vic in a royal heartbeat. It was not theoretical chemistry. It was literal ejection. Don’t let it happen to you.

Rave on…..in your bathroom and crowd-surf…..in your head.

Old Dude Surfing

This is crowd-surfing by an older man who is not in his right mind. When they get through with him he will wish he was in another body.

crowd surfing 2

This is crowd surfing by a younger man. He does not care whose mind or body he is in.








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To Kill a Watermelon.

wateremelon 3

Sometimes the knife you use can be mistakenly identified as a passive-aggressive knife. The knife looks innocent enough but it’s really not blame free. You never know what a knife may do.

watermelon 2

This particular melon seems to have a sweet innocent demeanor no matter how you slice it.

A badly misunderstood  marijuana and watermelon lover from Connecticut is now facing disorderly conduct charges because his girl friend has accused him of carving a watermelon in a menacing and threatening way right before her very eyes. She said to investigating police he cut up the unresisting watermelon in a passive-aggressive manner.

She reported him on July 4 (how un-American this seems) because she found marijuana and other drugs in his tool box (well, my gosh, it was the Fourth of July). Cops did not arrest him but she said she came home later and found the watermelon stabbed deep into its heart with a large butcher knife still sticking from its center. Then this crazy guy reappears and with absolutely zero compassion for the melon he commenced to whack it in such a passive-aggressive manner that it struck a menacing fear in her heart.

watermelon 3

When you are seriously intending to feast on a big melon, this is the way you want to carve it. Do it with the love and tenderness it so rightfully deserves.

shark melon

I don’t think this is what the bad boy was carving. I think this is maybe how he looked during the aggressive part of his melon chopping caper.

So the police hauled him away and it cost him 500 bucks to get out of jail. I feel sure he is sorry for his outlandish behavior because this time of year, you can buy a pickup truck full of watermelons for that kind of cash (a small pickup truck). He probably didn’t even want any watermelon and I’ll bet it’s a long, long time before he wants another watermelon.

All this melon talk reminded me of Gallagher and of how many melons he has maliciously slaughtered during all his years of demonstrating his famous sledge-o-matic vegetable and fruit separator. And never once was he hauled to jail for killing all that good food. I would report him but I think the statute of limitations has run out on his crimes. There shouldn’t be a limitation but I guess there probably is one. Here’s one guy in Connecticut getting taken to jail and booked while Gallagher is still stumbling around out there somewhere taking wild swings at every kind of innocent fruit or vegetable you can think of. Gallagher is a mass murderer as far as I’m concerned.

Now I’m afraid to show my true feelings toward my food and while I was slicing squash for Katie Mae this morning I caught her giving me strange questioning looks to see if I were aggressively cutting the squash. I was so intimidated I took the squash to our bedroom closet to finish the job. I usually attack my food aggressively but now after seeing her watch me like that I’m considering taking small, passive nibbles from tonight’s squash casserole.

Five hundred bucks is a lot of money and we’re in Georgia. What if it cost you more to treat your food in a passive-aggressive manner in Georgia and, by the way, how can you use a large butcher knife to passively separate a watermelon from its heart?

Gallagher 2

Here he is during one of his most aggressive attacks ever on our defenseless, helpless food chain. Justice has never been served when it comes to Gallagher and his endless assaults on our fruits and vegetables.


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Back When Women Sewed.


Drawer in sewing table.

sewing 33

Drop leaf sewing table from plantation home near Albany, Georgia.







sewing 20

Second drawer in sewing table.


Mr. Singer and company have been making sewing machines for a long, long time but long before a sewing machine was ever dreamed of, creative and industrious women from all walks of life took needle, thread and cloth in hand and made the most beautiful clothes ever fashioned. For me that statement remains true to this day and so I dedicate this little blog post to all of you who still love to sew.

I had the great fortune to be born to a lovely woman who could out sew any of Mr. Singer’s fine contraptions and some years later, my good luck was still with me when I married a woman who could sew as well as, if not better than, my Mother.

The pictures shown are from a sewing table that I believe came from a plantation house near Albany, Georgia. Remarkably the prices shown on the contents of the table look like they are from the 1930’s or 1940’s. This is a little sewing time-capsule and I think you’ll enjoy trying to remember how some of these items were used.

sewing 30

The hooks at top were 15¢. The snaps at left were 29¢ and the others were 10¢.

sewing 32

Sewing scissors.






The contents looked as if someone had just finished sewing and had walked away from the table for a moment. It looks like it has never been used since the 30’s or 40’s and I’ll bet the last person to use it has not been with us for many years.

sewing 19

This is how the scissors look when closed.

sewing 29

Katie Mae says that elastic pictured at the top was often used in bloomers.







sewing 11

When do you think we last bought needles from England?



sewing 13

American needles.

sewing 14

sewing 4





sewing 7

Brass Straight Pins described as DeLong Silk Pens in picture above.

sewing 21

Wooden buttons, mother of pearl buttons, metal buttons and fabric covered buttons.


Crude advertising graphics from long ago.

sewing 18

I’m not sure of the name of this needle/pin keeper. It has tiny paper labels naming the needles to be placed in each leaf. It looks like wool leaves or pages.









sewing 17


sewing 16






sewing 9

Closed this appears to be an eyeglass case but it’s actually a holder for needles. I’ve now scratched it from the list of things I had never seen before. See picture on right.





sewing 3

Needles made in England. The fabric mending patches in the package on the left cost 25¢.







So that’s it ladies. It’s quite an antiquated collection isn’t it. I should have posted this for Throw Back Thursday.

Gwyneth Paltrow and Singing To Your H2O.

Gwen 2GwynethThey are giving poor Gwyneth Paltrow a hard time once again.

She insists on talking to reporters who talk to other reporters and then the other reporters misconstrue all those frank and honest statements she seems to so stupidly make at the drop of a hat. Never mind that she told a Spanish reporter back in 2006 that the English were smarter than Americans. She later said that she was speaking Spanish when she made this statement to the press and perhaps she misspoke because Spanish was not a language she could speak well (or understand well, I might add).

Lately she has “consciously uncoupled” from her husband. You have got to admire the phrasing she uses here. I can see an All-American girl telling her man she was going to “consciously uncouple’ from him. He would roll over and go back to sleep and in the real world it would not be a peaceful sleep for him. He would be out for hours; knocked unconscious as she “consciously uncoupled” him with a ten-inch cast-iron frying pan.

Gwyneth carefully considered her words when she next babbled that being criticized on social media was “just like war.” What war? It must have been a domestic war brought on by “unconsciously/consciously-uncoupling (with a ten-inch cast-iron frying pan). What war has Gwyneth Paltrow ever seen? No question that statement pissed off millions of people around the world who have really been in a war.

I was going to try to take up for her but I am not a fatalist. Besides she can afford to buy Barack Obama, Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, Susan Rice, and Joe Biden plus another burlap sack full of idiots just like them to pitch the good press for her. They can put a Half-Nelson twist on the truth that will make even Gwyneth Paltrow look smart. She doesn’t need me to lie for her.

I was going to plead ignorance on her behalf because it’s obvious she knows absolutely nothing. She has been writing and singing and acting since the late nineties. Her plate has been overflowing (I was going to argue). The only problem is, she did not have to think one single time to accomplish these wondrous achievements. She wrote cook books. That’s right, cookbooks. Any unaccomplished fool can scramble around and throw a few recipes between two covers and come up with a cookbook. Hers were probably ghostwritten.

And singing is making music with your voice to a tune and words somebody else wrote. You do not have to be very bright to be a good singer. Acting is even more of a play on words that someone else wrote for you to voice.

So now she directs our attention once again to the world of the conscious and the energy of consciousness. Gwyneth has a website named “GOOP.” Now I don’t know what Gwyneth thinks “GOOP” stands for but I know goop is a sticky greasy substance you can get on the bottom of your shoe.

She is quoted on her aptly named website as saying, “I am fascinated by the growing science behind the energy of consciousness and its effects on matter. I have long had Dr. Emoto’s coffee table book on how negativity changes the structure of water, how the molecules behave differently depending on the words or music being expressed around it.”

Now she does not explain who Dr. Emoto is exactly and I don’t give enough of a damn to try to find out. I can only guess he was another mindless fool cast in an old James Bond movie to flesh out the character of Odd Job.

She has a scientist friend, Dr. Habib Sadeghi, who described Dr. Emoto pouring pure water into vials labelled with negative phrases like, “I hate you” or “Fear.” After 24 hours the water was frozen but it did not crystallize. The ice was misshapen and gray.

In contrast the good doctor Emoto then took vials of water labelled, “I love you” or “Peace” and froze it. The ice from this experiment was composed of gleaming, perfectly hexagonal crystals.

Poor Gwyneth. She is as childlike and empty-headed as she was at birth. Now she is advised by people who claim you can sing and speak pleasantly to your water and when you freeze it your ice will be prettier.

It has never occurred to her that it doesn’t matter if the ice is gray and misshapen or in gleaming, perfectly hexagonal crystals. The ice only needs to cool your beverage. I guess she has never thought that deeply about the purpose of ice.

I feel so lost and left out of her world. My water freezes inside the refrigerator/freezer. I will never know if it is happy or otherwise. I never get a chance to see it, speak to it or sing to it.

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Dan Holloway and How to Get Layed in Sowega.

You just can’t keep a good man out of the limelight. Dan Holloway of Albany, Georgia spent many years actually getting people to pay him for gas. He evidently had the best gas around because not only did people came from far and wide to get his gas, he went out and bought big trucks so he could go to them and unload his gas right into their home receptacles. Some folks will do anything for gas and Dan, even though a little bit retired, is still gassing folks all around Albany.

Now Dan is in the “Lay” business. That is a South Georgian’s unique way to spell “Lei”. The model below may show some wear and tear from a misspent youth but there is nothing old and worn out about Dan Holloway’s ‘Lays.’ You can see it’s logically constructed from goobers and pee-cans. I understand the supply is limited. If you’ve just got to have one, don’t kill for it. Let me know and I’ll check with Dan to see if his inventory is holding out.

He says, “Why pay thousands of dollars to fly to Hawaii and get layed when you can get a Southwest Georgia Peanut and Pecan lay for only $13.95. Now that’s cooking with gas, podnahs.

Dan is the master mind marketeer for this product in cahoots with founder and designer David Akstulewicz of national fruit and nut jewelry design fame.

I’m keeping mine in a safety deposit box at the bank. If you are wearing yours in Southwest Georgia and you have to leave and go far away you take off your lay and drive out into the middle of a big peanut field. Drive in a huge circle and throw your lay out the window. If the lay blows back into the side of your car in a big dust cloud from the peanut field it means you are an idiot and should never return. You shouldn’t be driving a car either.

Any respectable Southern boy should be proud to wear Dan’s ‘Lay.’ It’s made from the food sources that have kept us alive for many, many years. Thank you Dan Holloway for helping us pay tribute to Peanuts and Pecans………….and for keeping us gassed a long,long time.

Ben in Dan's Necklace

Kay and I fought over this necklace. I called it a necklace and she slapped me across the bald head with it. Then we both tried to put it on at the same time and now I have big scratches on the top of my head and a knot the size of a softball on my forehead but you see who seized and saved the lay.





Can Reality Get Any Less Real?

Night Cruise

What can be more romantic than an evening cruise in technicolor?

Virtual Balcony 2

The virtual balcony with the virtual banister to keep you virtually safe in case you think you might virtually fall out of the window into the sea.






It gets better all the time. Royal Caribbean is introducing a high-tech virtual balcony on interior staterooms that have no outside view. These unreal balconies are high definition screens that portray actual scenes outside the ship in real time.You don’t need a porthole or veranda to see what’s going on out there at any time of day.

These HD 80″ displays even have the real sound of of whatever happens to rock the boat outside and just in case you have a fear of falling this thing is designed with a realistic looking (but unreal) banister across the center of the screen to make you feel safe, warm and fuzzy. They’ve even got super GPS data and sophisticated sun movement charts to create differing shadow lengths on the banister throughout the passing day.

A visual perception of the motion of the ocean when there is no physical feeling of the ocean’s movement can make you woozy so there is virtually no delay between the camera feed and the screen display to keep you calm and happy.

But then, why go on a cruise? You can pick up all kinds of maladies cruising around the seven seas on those big gorgeous, filthy, unclean tubs of deadly bacterial infections. People are catching their death of the flu and God only knows what other illnesses by hanging out in a stateroom that has not been properly cleaned. I’ll bet those comforters have not been thoroughly washed in months and because of this inattention to cleanliness some people are literally dying to get off the boat.

And what do you think the last madly-in-love, newlywed, crazy-for-each-other couple were doing on those poor old bed covers. You were young once upon a time. You know what’s been going on in those sinful staterooms. In the heat of the great moment on a romantic cruise would you wait to politely turn down the comforter or would you simply take the true lover’s leap of faith and pray somebody had washed that cover?

I think I have convinced Katie Mae that my next idea is best of all especially for older couples who have weakened immune systems and who should not dare to expose themselves to vile bacterial horrors.

I say all we have to do is borrow this same technology and put those big screens on the inside walls of our house. We can dial up the location, day and time of anywhere in the world our feeble hearts and minds want to be and still step outside the room at noon for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I think I want my screens filled with lovely (mature) women frolicking on the beautiful sugar white beaches of the wonderful Gulf Coast. I don’t want to go too far from home. That was just a fleeting thought. It flew away when Katie Mae proof read this for me.

She agreed that I need big screen excitement but she saw the subject matter a bit differently.

My problem is she wants my big movie screens filled with cowboy and Indian images and I’ll be the Indian taking multi-shots of .44 slugs in the buttocks from John Wayne’s blazing six-shooters. Or:

She wants my big screens filled with scenes from the floor of the Roman Coliseum with all the fanfare and trumpets blaring away as the big cat cages are opened and the lions trot out to dine on the Christians standing out in the open. She wants me to be an “Outstanding Christian.”

Virtual Balcony

Another picture of the virtual balcony. Isn’t it charming?

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