Still Dumb ... But Learning

I try to learn stuff every week so I won’t be so dumb. This week I learned:


    Well, it looks like we couldn’t rely on a misinterpretation of a centuries dead culture’s prediction of the future. Who would have guessed? Seeing as how the world didn’t end yesterday, I guess some apologies are in order:

    To my daughter, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I really had no idea where I was going to get a field of magical ponies to begin with. Besides, I think you would find real-life My Little Ponies more creepy than comforting.

    To my 5-year-old son, no you can’t drive the car today. I know I said tomorrow, but tomorrow actually got here and surprised us all.
    To my 8-year-old son, the check I wrote you for a kabillion dollars in Lego probably won’t clear. I’m sorry.

    To the friend that I owed $20, yeah, that check probably won’t clear either.

    To my creditors I’d like to say I’m sorry for mailing you pictures of my middle finger and/or bare ass in lieu of payment. I have no doubt you get that a lot, but that still doesn’t make it right.

    To the guy whose Ferrari I stole, I filled up the tank and put it back where I found it. Sorry about the dents.

    To the people I lectured at the 4-way stop, you all do, in fact, drive like assholes and you really do need to learn how space, time and distance work, but backhanding each of you repeatedly probably wasn’t necessary and for that I am sorry just as I know that you’re sorry about denting the Ferrari with my face.

    To my neighbors, I hereby return your lands to you and dissolve the nation of Kickassya. I’ve removed the flags, all work on the Wallace Monument has ceased and your cats are no longer outlawed as crimes against nature. I think it goes without saying that we probably shouldn’t tell Uncle Sam about the Declaration I made you all sign—your names are on it, too.

    To my co-workers, well, you probably won’t find out what I did until we all get back from the Christmas break, so I’ll just apologize then.

    To anyone else I may have yelled at, frightened, ran over, gave fashion advice to, hit with the “water” in the Super Soaker, tricked into seeing Skyfall, gave what for to, pantsed, wedgied or forced to listen to my poetry, please know that I am truly sorry.

    We all dodged an apocalyptic bullet yesterday and we should be thankful. We’ve been given a second chance so we should all consider this a fresh start, a chance to wipe clean the slate of our errors and misjudgments. It’s time to celebrate this rebirth, embrace one another and stop all of this talk about pressing charges.


     Looks like Johnny Cash was almost the performer for the opening credits on Thunderball.


     I found them on Amazon.



I still don’t know when to have the Santa Talk
Guest Robert Hookey has a pretty cool Christmas list


The Mayans may have disappointed us, but I won’t. I apocalypsed the hell out of the world in my novel Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors: A Duck & Cover Adventure. Check it out

Get it at Amazon

Merry Christmas, everyone. I’m glad you’re still here.


This post was brought to you by the letter A and book sales. Thank you for your support. 

1 comment:

  1. Don't apologise too soon. The apocalypse is actually right after the New Year sales...