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Joke: Why He’s NOT Called Fence-Builder February 18, 2012

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Jokes.
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A few days ago, I saw a video of Paul McCartney telling a version of this joke, but the punch line was mumbled. I listened to the joke three times, and am STILL not sure I got the punch line right. But this version of the joke made my husband laugh out loud; so here it is.

A hiker on the moors of England spotted a tavern at the top of a hill, and made for it. When the hiker entered, he saw that the tavern was empty, except for the bartender. The hiker ordered a Guinness, introduced himself, and asked what the barkeep was called.

“Did you notice the fence on the path up here?” asked the bartender.

“I did,” the hiker said. “It’s a fine, straight fence and very well made. It led me up here, in fact.”

“I built that fence, every foot of it,” the bartender said. “But do they call me Frank the Fence-Builder? No, they do not. . . . What do you think about this bar?”

“I’ve been admiring it,” said the hiker. “It looks like one unbroken slab of mahogany.”

“That it is,” said the bartender. “I made this bar with my own hands. But do they call me Brown the Bar-Builder? No, they do not. . . . What do you think about the way I pulled your pint?”

“You did a great job,” said the hiker. “Not too much of a head, not too little. I’d say it was perfectly poured. But I guess they don’t call you Frank the Ale-Puller?”

“No, they do not,” said the bartender sadly. “But let me tell you, you f—k just one measly goat. . . .”

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St. Petersburg Pier Design: Lens or IUD? January 30, 2012

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor, Personal anecdotes, Popular Culture, Random Observations.
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One of the icons of St. Petersburg, Florida is our Pier, a huge inverted pyramid at the end of a long approach. There are a few shops out there, most of which are more trouble to reach than they’re worth. There are two or three casual eateries, too, one of which may be a bar.

What I love about the Pier is that it’s home to St. Pete’s branch of the Columbia Restaurant — fantastic food since 1903, and a wonderful view, a small sliver of which you see here. Eating at the St. Pete Columbia is like dining on the deck of an ocean liner, but comfortably protected from the ocean breeze. There are always gulls, terns, and other seabirds perched a few feet from your table on a ledge that runs the length of the building about 18 inches from the ceiling; my husband and I always see pelicans, and frequently we see dolphins. The Columbia is our special-occasion restaurant.

So when the city leaders of St. Petersburg began grumbling that the Pier is antiquated and expensive to maintain, some of the pilings on the approach are crumbling, yadda yadda, I could accept it. They formed a special panel and sought new designs. The three “finalist” designs were the Eye (shaped like a cream-filled donut, “the Eye” looks both like a flying saucer AND like the logo of a famous Tampa sex club); the Wave (my favorite, it looks like Skateboard Heaven); and the Lens.

A five-member jury voted, and the Lens won unanimously. The Wave came in second, and the Eye a distant third. The jury chose the Lens in part because, unlike the other two designs, it focuses not on shopping or eating, but on St. Pete’s strengths as a city. “For me,” said one of the judges, “the Lens really invites everybody to the waterfront. It is an opportunity for people to experience some of what people used to experience, the water, the view, the fishing, the pelicans, not just a shopping and dining experience. There’s also an opportunity to address the boating issue,” she said.

During the review process, the only “view” that was published of any of the three designs was from ground level. It wasn’t until the selection process ended and the Lens was chosen as the new design of the Pier that the Tampa Bay Times ran an image of the Lens visualized from helicopter height.

Ladies and gentlemen, I hope it’s just me — but to ME, the “Lens” looks like an IUD!

is the new design a Lens or an IUD?

Our Ultra-Rude Awakening January 14, 2012

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor, Personal anecdotes, Random Observations.
1 comment so far

It wasn’t my fault. Well, yes, it was, but it wasn’t solely my fault. My husband lives here too.

It all began a few years after we moved to Florida, when a routine inspection of our heat pump revealed that it was so encrusted with mold you could barely see that the photo was supposed to have been of metal. There had been a good reason why Jerry spent so much time sneezing.

So we replaced the heat pump. For some reason, our then-air conditioning company (who later turned out to have been a bunch of incompetent crooks) replaced the heat pump with an air conditioner. This was around 2003 or so, while my mother lay dying slowly in Maryland (she finally died in 2007), and I don’t remember why Jerry and I let this happen. The probable answer is “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” To be fair, our electricity bills have been lower for about three-fourths of each year.

But then, a few years later, came the Deep Freeze of January and February 2010. In the Tampa Bay area, the average daily high for that period ranges between 70° and 75°F, and the average daily low is 55°. During the Deep Freeze, our average daily high was 55°. And even with the thermostat set at 64° for day, 60° for night, our electric bill was about twice our historical average for winter. Much the same thing happened in January 2011, but not for as long a stretch.

We bought space heaters. They work well in our oddly designed house, which was built in 1920 and rehabbed around 1998. By “oddly designed,” I mean that we have all sorts of unexpected corners and crannies; my theory is that whoever designed the house was an amateur, not an architect. We also have WAY too few electric outlets, and the ones we have are often inconveniently placed. The best location for our bedroom space heater required an extension cord.

Here’s where I confess that what happened Wednesday morning was primarily my fault: I think most safety instructions are ridiculous, and seldom read them. “Do not use your hair dryer while taking a bath or shower.” And — I swear I’m not making this one up — “Unplug your clock-radio when not in use.” I bought a new space heater for our bedroom on Tuesday, and the first time I looked at the safety instructions was Wednesday afternoon, when I read “Do not use an extension cord.”

I then checked the instructions for all our other space heaters. All of them said, “Do not use an extension cord,” although one set of instructions reluctantly allowed that a heavy-duty extension cord, rated for at least 1500 watts, would be acceptable in cases of extreme necessity. Mind you, the space heaters in our bedroom and upstairs bathroom had been on extension cords for two years, with no signs of trouble.

Using the extension cords was not solely my fault. Jerry lives here too. Jerry is far more prudent than I am. Jerry unplugs clock-radios when not in use.

The new space heater works well. It’s a Patton, 1500 watts. Have you guessed what happened? Around 5 a.m. on Wednesday, I woke to the sound of loud poppings and giant, terrifying sparks flying around the room. The first thought in my sleep-fogged brain was “Fire!” I began shrieking as I accomplished a beautiful lying-down high jump, ending up on my feet. I started to race for the bathroom, with my sleep-addled mind thinking, “Electric fire, don’t get water, get the baking soda, get the baking soda.”

Luckily, Jerry, awakened by my shrieks, had more presence of mind. He leaped for the wall outlet, and had the space heater unplugged so fast that in the end, there was no damage to anything at all. Except the extension cord, which had melted.

Now I need to tell you that Jerry has not one but two leaky heart valves. He had open-heart surgery in 2003, and was hospitalized for the same problem in 2007. General anesthesia shuts down Jerry’s bladder. As part of the aftermath of his 2007 adventure, he spent seven weeks of nonstop misery on a Foley catheter. There’s an excellent chance that if he were ever “put under” again, he’d have to spend the rest of his life peeing through a catheter. This is unacceptable. Jerry refuses to be anesthetized ever again, and I don’t blame him.

So, after dealing with the melted extension cord, Jerry took his heart meds, and the two of us returned to bed and huddled together, twitching a little, until it was time to get up. I am amazed at how few lullabies I know. I must have sung “Soft Kitty” about a hundred times (thank you, Chuck Lorre!), plus the Dixie Chicks’ “Lullaby” (except I really only know the refrain), and Paul Simon’s “St. Judy’s Comet” (which is really too fancy for a 5:30 a.m. lullaby). I tried to sing Janis Ian’s “At Seventeen,” but while it’s got the right tempo, I quickly ended up in tears and had to return to “Soft Kitty.”

Whenever Jerry gets depressed about the state of his health and his probably short life expectancy, he starts in with his “I’m so useless” refrain. He did it on Thursday, the day after our little dawn adventure: oh, I’m so useless, I can’t lift the vacuum cleaner, I can’t do this, I can’t do that, you should just kill me in, yadda yadda. We’ve been married since 1989.

After about the second or third “I’m so useless,” I finally had enough. “What are you talking about?” I demanded. “It was just yesterday that you saved my life. You saved your life. You saved the lives of all our cats. You saved us all.”

There was a long pause. And then, with just the hint of sly humor, Jerry said, “Well, yes. But that was yesterday.”

More Funny Old Print Ads July 9, 2011

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor.
4 comments

Here is a second look at some funny old print advertisements, most of them from the early 20th century. (Click here for my first set of funny ads. Funniest of all was the self-righteous visitor who was outraged at ME for their content!)

Guns make the perfect gift, especially for yourself!

Racism is still alive and well today, but at least it's not QUITE as overt.... (In
Cream of Wheat's defense, we should note that the first vitamins weren't discovered until the 1910s; lots of people of every race didn't know what them things were.)

Ah, beer. SO good for babies and nursing mothers!

And remember, always choose a beer can that's easy to open with a church key. (Pop-tops? No one had yet thought up no stinkin' pop-tops!)

Remember, most of the drugs that are illegal today were made illegal so that Harry Anslinger and other survivors of Prohibition could still have jobs....

At some point in the last hundred years, Lane Bryant switched from serving
chubby girls to women of, um, substance....

One side benefit of watching lots of TV they hadn't thought of back in the 1950s:
The more you watch, the fatter you tend to become.

As recently as the 1960s, the theme song to "The Flintstones" included the lyric
"We'll have a gay old time," meaning merry, happy, lighthearted. HOW I miss
what I still consider the word's genuine meaning!

 
The following ads are deeply misogynist, and for that reason alone I thought about omitting them. Stop reading now if, like the visitor I mentioned above, you prefer to shoot the messenger. . . .

Ladies, if your husband gives you a vacuum cleaner for Christmas that you didn't specifically ask for, give HIM a douchebag for Valentine's Day. Tell him it's a mirror.

As recently as the 1960s, the Mickey Mouse Club taught little girls songs that included lyrics like, "You never will be beautiful beside a dirty sink."

To which YOU reply, "THIS wife does everything but f**k.
That's what your hand is for."

Remember, house slaves are judged on their own appearance,
not on the quality of their work.

Forget PMS, cramps, headache, bloating — only men are important.

And after you blow tobacco smoke in my face,
I really enjoy being splashed with acid....

GOP Dictionary June 10, 2011

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor, Politics.
1 comment so far

In its anxiety over making itself as different as possible from Pres­i­dent Obama in EVERY way, the Republican Party has given itself a lobot­­omy. Sane Replutocrats know that they can’t “refudiate” pro­grams that are popular with non-deluded voters — voting rights, civil rights, con­sumer protection, universal education, Medicare, Medicaid, SCHIP, etc., etc., etc. — and so the Greedy Oil Plutocrats are resorting to doublespeak, in the well-founded hope that most voters will take their language to be ordinary English rather than hyper­partisan code. Here’s a little dictionary to help you understand what they REALLY mean.

The American people:
This code phrase refers to the real constituency of the Replutocrats: the oliGOParchy. This elite group of “have-mores” includes the Koch brothers, Roger Ailes, Rupert Murdoch, Dick Armey, and others.
Ayn Rand, Objectivism:
The belief that the GOP elite deserves to exploit the rest of society without compunction or mercy.
Class warfare:
Expecting the filthy rich (the top 20 percent, who own 93 percent of the nation) to pay their fair share for roads, schools, health, defense, Social Security, public libraries, police, EMTs, emergency rooms, etc., etc.
Constitution:
Holy Writ, third in importance after the Bible and St. Ayn Rand. States that the GOP is always right.
“Death panels,”
“Obamacare,” “socialist,” and “job-killing” are good. “Medikill” is evil. (It’s accurate.)
Death tax:
Modest percentage on estates valued at $2 million or more; does not apply to 99 percent of Americans.
Debate:
Recitation of Replutocrat talking points and vilification of all opposition and dissent.
Disgraceful:
Any wrong committed by a Democrat that is one-tenth or less as GENUINELY disgraceful as a Replutocrat’s crime. For example: Anthony Weiner’s sexting is “disgraceful”; John Ensign’s affair with his wife’s best friend, and his attempt to bribe his mistress’s husband to overlook the affair, are wholly excusable, as is David Vitter’s patronage of, and diapering by, prostitutes.
Fiscal prudence:
Looting the U.S. economy and transferring it into the pockets of the oliGOParchy. In 1980, the last year of Jimmy Carter’s presidency, the national debt was $1.9 trillion (in 2009 dollars) and the top 1 percent (Dubya’s “have-mores”) owned 24.8 percent of the nation’s wealth. In 2000, the last year of Bill Clinton’s presidency, the national debt was $6.1 trillion (Reagan and “Poppy” Bush between them more than tripled the national debt!); thanks to the Reagan tax cuts on the wealthy, the top 1 percent owned 33.4 percent of the nation’s wealth. At the end of 2008, the last year of George W. Bush’s presidency, the national debt was $10 trillion and the top 20 percent owned 93 percent of the United States.
Freedom:
Allowing corporations, especially wealthy multinational corporations, to pursue the great god Profit without regulation, oversight, or penalty for crime.
Free market:
Unchecked corporate looting, polluting, discriminating, destruction of the environment, and selling of worthless crap.
Informed electorate:
Faux News / hate radio Tea Puppet True Believers who trust Andrew Breitbart implicitly and believe without question ever pronouncement and insinuation, no matter how vile.
Job killing:
Any positive idea proposed by a Democrat or hyperpartisan idea enacted by a Replutocrat. For example, Florida’s Governor Voldemort (who calls himself Rick Scott) purchased his job through two main tactics: a tsunami of Citizens United lies and smears, and the promise that he would create 700,000 jobs in Florida in four years. Between January and June 2011, Gov. Voldemort destroyed 45,000 jobs and took the credit for previous governor Charlie Christ’s creation of 50,000 jobs.
Liberty:
The condition in which a GOP voter can act of his own free will, no matter whom it might harm.
Patriot:
Tea Puppet making less than $50,000 per year who is working assiduously so that the oliGOParchy can take even that away from him.
The People’s Business:
Imposing fundamentalist theology on America’s women; depriving women, gays, liberals, brown people, and non-oliGOParchs of their rights.
Out-of-control spending:
Acknowledging that Dubya’s wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are not “emergency” spending and must be reflected in the nation’s budget. When Dubya’s budgets are reworked to reflect reality (the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq), Obama’s “out of control” budget is hundreds of millions less than Dubya’s.
Privatization:
Transformation of an inexpensive, efficient government program into an inefficient bonanza for Replutocrat contractors. The nation’s wars in Afghanistan and Iraq illustrate this, since many tasks that used to be performed by American’s military have been contracted out to Halliburton, Bechtel, Blackwater, and other GOP favorites. The average contractor in Bush’s wars earns more than twenty times what the average government employee earns!
Uncertainty
The length of time between today, when the oliGOParchy owns 93 percent of the United States, and the day when the Bush “have-mores” own US ALL.
Voter fraud
Virtually nonexistent in reality, where the phrase refers to voters attempting to vote more than once or under someone else’s name. For GOP-dominated states, “voter fraud” is the pretext for attempting to suppress the votes of college students, women who have changed their names, voters who have moved, voters who have to work more than one job, and other groups that are likely to vote Democratic. A given state’s obsession with this nonexistent danger is a clear sign of its terror that Replutocrats will be “refudiated” by disgusted voters unless their votes are suppressed.

If I have forgotten or overlooked a GOP code-word or code-phrase, please drop me a line. I plan to update these definitions regularly. You might also enjoy A Dictionary of Tea Party Terminology.

How to Save “Two and a Half Men” May 3, 2011

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor, Popular Culture, Television.
2 comments

I don’t actually see much hope for “Two and a Half Men.” The show is built around the contrast in two definitions of manhood; its implicit assumption is that a real man smokes, drinks, and whores — unlike the panty­waists who fall victim to ball­breaking women like Judith and Evelyn. (All women are beautiful on “Two and a Half Men,” but with very rare exceptions, all women are ballbreakers, bitches, dimbulbs, or lunatics.)

I am a member of the first generation to be children of television, and I’ve seen a lot of shows that tried to soldier on after losing a central character. All of them failed: “The X-Files” without Fox Mulder. “All in the Family” after Edith died. “Scrubs” without J.D. “Sanford and Son” without Lamont, the son. “The Hogan Family” after the departure of Valerie Harper. “Three’s a Crowd,” which was “Three’s Company” after the departure of sexual gaiety, not to mention the departure of Jack’s constantly having to pretend to be gay. “The Golden Palace,” which was “The Golden Girls” without Bea Arthur. “One Day at a Time” without Julie. “Happy Days” without Richie. “Rhoda” without Joe Gerard. “WKRP in Cincinnati” without Jennifer, Andy, Venus, or Johnny Fever. And this is just the first few TV shows that sprang to mind, by no means a complete list.

If Chuck Lorre tries to continue “Two and a Half Men” with the same premise — the allegedly hilarious contrast between drunken lechery and emasculated amorality — the “revamped” show will fail. In most ways, Charlie Harper was virtually indistinguishable from Charlie Sheen, so trying to shoehorn a “Charlie II” into the show will at best result in snarky comparisons with the two Darrens on “Bewitched” — when actually on “Bewitched” it would have been like trying to replace Elizabeth Montgomery.

Besides, the whole “isn’t drunken lechery cute?” angle was milked dry about three years ago. Incompetent Alan needs to either man up or get off the pot. Jake needs to become something more than an amiable moron/slacker. “Two and a Half Men” can only go on for Seasons 9 and beyond with a complete reboot.

My initial thought for Chuck Lorre was to promote Ryan Stiles: Have Herb’s marriage to Judith break up, and have Jake and Herb move into the beach house with Alan. The problem is that Herb and Bertha are the only two attractive characters on the show (well, Rose), and the whole structure of the show has been to contrast Charlie’s drunken, lecherous sexual immaturity with Alan’s morally weak, sexually timid milquetoast masculinity. The big, dramatic contrast between two milquetoasts won’t cut it for even one full season, much less a hoped-for Season 14. Plus, how could Herb and Alan afford a nice house on the beach, and Bertha, on top of two alimonies?

Then last night I was thinking about how Jake is no longer “half” a man. Angus Jones was born October 8, 1993, meaning he will be 18 years old for Season 8 of “Two and a Half Men.” Here’s my suggestion for Chuck Lorre: Have Jake get a girl pregnant, some time last fall. The “Two and a Half Men” of Season 8 would become Alan, Jake, and Alan’s grandson.

The mother of Jake’s son could be Nicole, the never-seen hottie. Nicole had her baby without ever even telling Jake she was pregnant (“I just thought she was porking out”), and had been planning on raising him as a single mother. Her parents, however, thought Jake should be told he was a father, and blow the whistle on Nicole in the opening episode of Season 8.

Have Charlie Harper be “missing, presumed off on a bender” for the first show or two. Nicole is missing too, leading to agitated visits from her parents (who might be Charlie’s degenerate and untrust­worthy replacements) and innuendoes about Charlie’s potential as a kidnapper. In the show’s reality, it turns out that Charlie was driving down a busy highway, saw Nicole waiting at a bus stop, and offered her a ride home. But alas, ten minutes later an out-of-control semi had other ideas, and both Charlie and Nicole were killed instantly. Leaving Jake the only parent his baby now has.

For reasons unknown to me, Charlie left his entire gigantic estate (he’ll become posthumously beloved) in trust to Jake, most of it locked up tight until Jake has been someone’s valued full-time employee for at least ten years. (There’ll be a generous monthly allowance for the beach house, Bertha, etc.) The trustees should include Alan, Judith, and a rapscallion (Charlie’s replacement character) — a male version of Courtney, the Jenny McCarthy character. Perhaps Nicole’s father? Played by Gene Simmons, someone like that?

Oooh, how about Paul Reubens? I’d LOVE to see his protean sexuality on “Two and a Half Men”! (Reubens’s epic death scene in the otherwise disappointing Buffy, the Vampire Slayer make the whole rest of the movie worthwhile.)

Charlie could have left Bertha enough in his will that she could start a small eatery and employ Jake as a cook, with a way for him to work his way up to head chef after a years-long apprenticeship. As a far more central character on the show, Jake is going to have to react to Charlie’s death by wanting to become “Charlie II,” then being constantly frustrated that the terms of the trust make inheritance contingent on moral responsibility and good citizenship.

If you who are reading this think I have a good idea — that is, making the “Two and a Half Men” be Alan, Jake, and Alan’s infant grandson — would you be so kind as to send a link to someone who knows someone connected with the show? I don’t care about getting the credit for my idea; I just want the show to go on and be considered successful at least long enough for Chuck Lorre to be able to tell Charlie Sheen to kiss his low-rent, nutless, pi——t, clownish, socio­pathic ass.

Totally Inoffensive GOP Caricature April 23, 2011

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor, Politics.
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Our story so far: A few days ago, an Orange County, California birther (and Tea Puppet official) named Marilyn Davenport “privately” sent a despicably racist caricature to a few hundred of her closest friends, those who she knew would understand that calling the first black president of the United States a chimpanzee was all in good fun, and anyone who thought her caricature was offensive was obviously a humorless godless commie socialist progressive liberal Nazi-lover. Or, in Davenport’s words, “Oh, come on! Everybody who knows me knows that I am not a racist. It was a joke. I have friends who are black. Besides, I only sent it to a few people — mostly people I didn’t think would be upset by it.”

A very smart blogger named Jon Ponder came up with this photo, which he calls a “lame attempt at humor.” It is the same photograph that Davenport doctored, but Mr. Ponder’s doctoring took a different tack.

I also agreed with Mr. Ponder’s comment, “One way to know that you’re a half-wit is when you project exasperation that anyone would be offended by a racist email you sent in one breath, and then assert that you only sent it to people you ‘didn’t think would be upset by it’ in the next — a group that presumably did not included your purported African-American friends.

“[Unlike Davenport’s non-apology ‘apology,’] our apology for this patently offensive image is clear, unequivocal, and deeply sincere:

“We apologize to chimpanzees everywhere for drawing a comparison between their intelligence and that of Marilyn Davenport and George Bush. Chimpanzees are way smarter than either of those two half-wits.”

Make 4/20 “Punk a Birther” Day! April 19, 2011

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor, Politics.
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April 20 as a day has many detriments, including being the anniversary of the BP oil disaster, of the Columbine high school massacre, and of Adolf Hitler’s birth. (On the “good news” side of the ledger, April 20 IS the birthday of George Takei.)

But then again, it’s 4/20. As in “420.” So to liven the day up a little, I suggest that people who have sense enough to pour piss out of a boot celebrate April 20 as “Punk a Birther” Day.

Here is my contribution to the festivities. Which is to say, some genius other than myself created this birth certificate for President Obama. My suggestion is that YOU “swipe” it too (right-click on it and then choose “Save Image As”), and then use it as you see fit to help some birther of your acquaintance make an even bigger fool of himself than he already is:
   

I especially love the fake birth certificate’s notation that Obama was born at “666 Harryhausen Drive,” a “fact” certified by registrar “Robert A. Heinlein.” Not to mention the fake’s serenely birtherish failure to notice that according to the U.S. Constitution, the son of a U.S. citizen is a U.S. citizen, no matter where he was born. John McCain, for example, is considered a U.S. citizen even though he was born in Panama.

No one has ever disputed the fact that respected anthropologist Dr. Stanley Ann Dunham Obama Soetoro, Obama’s mother, was a U.S. citizen; no one has ever claimed that our president was a Caesarian section, and therefore NOT “natural born.” But no matter how many facts pile up against them, no matter how many times sane people point out that if Obama were unqualified to be president, Hilary Clinton would be president today — still the birthers insist that Stanley Ann never existed. . . .

Always Put the Paint into the Trunk! April 16, 2011

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor.
2 comments

A Texan friend forwarded these four photos to me in an e-mail. He had two comments, beginning with “The people in the blue car had a 25-litre (~5 gal) bucket of paint on the back seat.” My Texan friend is highly educated and intelligent, but I’ve never seen him use “litre” before; plus, all the cars in this accident have right-hand drive. The first photo shows that the accident happened somewhere between Queensburgh and New Germany, which turn out to be two small towns in KwaZulu Natal Province on the east coast of South Africa. Google Maps tells me the accident probably happened in Farmingham Ridge or Moseley Park, five to ten miles west of Durban, a busy port.
 

Notice the bucket of paint on the far right of the photo.

There’s the same, CLOSED bucket of paint, next to a gallon jug. The blue car has the vanity plate “ISIDNGO,” in case you’re obsessed enough to want to try to track down its driver.


Notice the open bucket of paint just to the left of the driver’s seat.

My friend’s e-mail concluded with a note that the male ambulance driver wouldn’t allow the female paramedic to leave the ambulance, because she couldn’t stop laughing; he said it wasn’t professional.

Rick Scott for Looting of Florida February 26, 2011

Posted by Mary W. Matthews in Humor, Politics.
3 comments

Weeks into the reign of terror he purchased by using millions of dollars’ worth of his own and Citizens United lies and smears to delude Tea Puppet dupes into voting against the advice of every single major newspaper in Florida, Rick Scott has already spurned the 21st century, put Florida’s environment in the hands of a developer crony, taken a tentative step toward demolishing the educational system, announced that Florida will not be complying with the Affordable Care Law, and eviscerated Florida’s budget so that he can hand a juicy tax cut to the wealthiest 2 percent of the state’s oliGOParchy.

Apart from his overt policy of cutting off the noses of Florida’s jobless, elderly, uneducated, sick, and non-wealthy to spite Obama’s face, Scott refuses to believe the truth, preferring to put his trust in a Tea Puppet fantasy more pleasing to the oliGOParchy than any facts. Below is the TRUE reason Rick Scott opposes high-speed rail in Florida even when there isn’t the slightest chance the project will do anything but create thousands of much-needed jobs:

He's afraid of meeting
Harry Potter on the train!