Macula Non Est En Te??

The part of American Idol I love the most, is over. That would be the mass auditions, where they bring in the absolute worst and the best for the judges to mock. Once you get past that point, Idol isn't as much fun. If you continue watching after that and you latch on to a contestant and are really pulling for them to win, you lose all interest in the show if they are kicked off. The one I have latched on to, and is my favorite right now, is cute little David Archuleta. Unfortunately, on Tuesday he was in over his head, and basically ruined one of my favorite Beatles songs. However, I'm sure he will be back next week.

When I was in grade school, probably around fifth grade, the nuns used to make us sing in their little Saint George chorus. We had to learn all these strange religious songs in Latin, while under threat of a large woman in black robes wielding a Ninja ruler. I'll never forget standing in the school boiler room, sweating my ass off, singing songs in a dead language, and wondering what it all meant. I don't know why we rehearsed in the boiler room, other than, that the hiss and hum of the boilers drowned out the awful sound of our voices, making it easier on the rest of the school. We actually didn't do only old Latin songs. Once one of the nuns had apparently seen Oklahoma, the musical, so we learned the entire soundtrack. To this day when I hear one of those songs, I'm transported back to the boiler room.

One thing is for sure, I have a horrible singing voice. I have taped myself singing and I can assure you it is hideous. It sounds something like bagpipes when the air is being let out of them. If you ever see me at a sporting event during the national anthem, I am lip synching. I learned long ago to just move my lips when, beyond my control, I am stuck in a group singing environment. If you don't believe me, check it out the next time you see me at a birthday party, and we're all singing 'Happy Birthday to You'.

Beer Frame

I used to be somewhat coordinated. I could walk and chew gum at the same time, but the older I get I find things aren't working like they used to. What happened? At what point did my body stop reacting to what my brain told it to do.

Monday nights are bowling league nights and I look forward to them. I like the camaraderie, having a drink with friends, and I used to like the winning. I used to have a 185 bowling average. I now have a 137 average, and I'm lucky to have that. When I get up to bowl, I have every intention to release the ball and have it land, with regularity, where I want it to. It's called hitting your mark. Instead, my arm goes into a spastic jerk off to the right or left and the ball ends up rolling uselessly down the alley, knocking down three or four pins. I even threw a gutter ball a couple of weeks ago, very embarrassing.

Even suffering from a declining ability to bowl, I still enjoy it. Having a few drinks, while competing against people ten to thirty or more years younger keeps me thinking, that at some point I will get better. Over the next ten weeks, until the end of the league season, I intend to try harder and maybe even practice. It would be nice to see some improvement. If not, there is always the 'Lighthouse for the Blind' bowling league. They use those rails, and cheer if you manage to keep the ball rolling down the lane all the way to the pins. Of course, it would be embarrassing to be beaten by people who are really blind.

For Mom

Lila says, go Obama.

If an old white woman like my mom thinks Obama is okay, then he must be okay.

New Kid on the Block

I understand that, if you introduce a young dog around an older dog, the added activity helps extend the life of the older dog. If that is true, Molly just got another year added to her life.

When Molly's friend Sophie lived in the front apartment, she would sometimes stage raids on Molly's chewy strip stash. Sophie would run into the house when I opened the door, find the chewy strip, then run back out. When she moved away, Molly missed her, but now to her delight, Molly has a new buddy, Otis. I just rented the front apartment out to a nice young married couple, and they have the cutest pug named Otis. Molly's first encounter with him happened the other day when I opened the back door and a small furry animal shot past me into the house. I think Molly at first thought Sophie had returned, but she soon realized that this wasn't her girlfriend, this was a boy dog.

After the formalities of butt sniffing and the checking out of the plumbing, Molly gave Otis permission to run all over her house. The best part was that he doesn't steal her chewy strips. Now every time Otis is in the back yard he comes to the door and asks for Molly. It's great for Molly because she is finally getting some exercise as the two of them run back and forth, and up and down the sidewalk. This is more activity than she has had in a long time.

Wouldn’t it be nice if it worked the same way for humans? Rent out the apartment to some young guy who chases me up and down the sidewalk. I could use the exercise.

Windows 08

At some point, before the heat and humidity of summer arrive, I want to replace some of my old jalousie windows. Jalousie windows were used here in Florida, because they can be opened to catch the breeze without letting in the rain. The problem is that they have absolutely no insulation value at all, and they catch the breeze even when they're closed. So I thought I would try replacing the small bathroom window first, as a practice run, before I tackled the floor to ceiling windows.
Step one, measure the opening. On my first try, I measured the inside opening, and that was wrong, according to the guy at Home Depot I needed to measure the outside opening. So armed with the correct outside dimensions, I returned to Home Depot and ordered the correct window. I don't know why, but when I measure things the measurements are never correct. Yes I know, measure three times just to be sure, and I did that, yet when I got home and tried to install the window it was wrong. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Step two, remove the old window. Very easy, six screws and just pop the thing out of the wall according to the Home Depot do it yourself book. With all the screws removed, I pushed on the window and it didn't budge. After beating the damn thing with a mallet for an hour and chiseling the concrete from around the frame, it still didn't budge. Finally, after using a large crowbar and twisting the frame into a pretzel, I managed to rip the thing from the grip of the wall. I have to give Mark credit, because during all of this, he just watched calmly and quietly without screaming at me that I was destroying the house. Usually by this time he would be yelling at me to get somebody who knows what they are doing. I guess the Xanax the doctor gave him is doing it's job.

Step three, mount the new window into the opening in the wall. Of course you already know it isn't going in that easy. The window was a fraction of an inch too wide and too tall. My first impulse is to jam it in there with the rubber mallet and a lot of cursing, but early on I realized that wasn't going to work. Even after chiseling away some of the concrete around the frame, I didn't have enough clearance. At this point plan B is put into effect, and I got out the electric hack saw, and started cutting on the window. When I am done I have a hideously chopped up window that fits snugly into the frame in the wall.

Step four, caulk and patch the concrete around the window. After two tubes of caulk and a tub of concrete patch to fill in the gaping voids around the window, I'm done and it actually looks alright. You can't even tell that I chopped the hell out of the thing. Just one problem. After all that work, I slide the new window open, only to discover the damn thing is broken and won't stay up on the right side. As usual with my home projects, it will stay that way and Mark will just have to get used to it, because there's no way I'm going through all that again. Now, do I really need to replace all those other windows?

Photo Friday

Even Dogs don't like to........

Sleep on the wet spot.

Gullible is Just a Polite Word for Stupid

These are real e-mails that I have received. Just two of many.

Dearest One,

Good day, I am contacting you to assist me transfer USD $16.5 Mllion Dollars,the money
I inherited from my Late Father which he made from the sale of Crude Oil
Business for investment in your Company under your Management while I
continue my education.
I am looking for an account with no/little fees where i can get a reasonable
interest rate along with acces to it if needed, I would like a company or
Individual whom is reasonably well known in your country.
Many thanks to you if you can help me as I would compensate you with a good
percentage of the money which is negotiable after the money has been
successfully moved into your account.
I am waiting for your urgent reply.
Thanks and God Bless you as I wait for your urgent reply for more details.

Yours Respectfully,
Miss Ella ALI

Are there really people stupid enough to fall for these kind of e-mails? I get at least one of these a week, sometimes more. They all have a need for me, a total stranger, to help them get some loot out of a third world country. It is either their dead husbands, dead fathers, or some dead stranger who left millions unclaimed in a bank, and I, Alan, am the only person on the planet Earth, honest enough to help them. I have never replied, because then I would be stupid, yet I am curious as to what kind of criminal sends this stuff out. Most of the e-mails have come from Africa, but lately a lot have come from Asia. Don't those people in Asia know that they have most of our money already?

I suppose that somewhere, somebody has fallen for this scam, or there wouldn't be so many criminals doing it. It works like this, you send the letter writer your bank account number. Then in a few days the millions are supposed to show up in your bank account. Of course the letter writer will never be heard from again. They are too busy emptying your bank account.

Hello,

My name is Mrs. Robiah Ahmad, from Malaysia (Asia) Am 50 years old, suffering from long time cancer of the breast. From all indications my condition is really deteriorating and it's quite obvious that I won't live more than 2 months according to my doctors. This is because the cancer stage has gotten to a very bad stage. My late husband died early last year from heart attack, and during the period of our marriage we couldn't produce any child. My late husband was very wealthy and after his death, I inherited all his business and wealth. The doctor has advised me that I will not live for more than 2 months, so I have now decided to spread all my wealth, to contribute mainly to the development of charity in Africa, America, Middle East and Europe. Before my late husband died he was a major oil tycoon, in Malaysia and Saudi Arabia and deposited the sum of 70 million dollars (Seventy million us dollars) in a storage company in Europe some years ago, that’s all I have left now, I need you to collect this funds and distribute it yourself to charity. So that when I die my soul can rest in peace. The funds will be entirely in hands and management. I pray God gives you the wisdom to touch very many lives that is my main concern. 30% of this money will be for your time and effort, while 70% goes to charity.
For more details reply me to this email address: robiah58@xxx.com

Mrs. Robiah Ahmad

I think you would have to, not just be stupid, but greedy to fall for this scam, and maybe there is a little justice in it for those who fall for it. It teaches people not to be stupid, greedy, and not to believe everything they see on the internet.