Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category

So, today was a pretty good day. Good days are days that are filled with good. Good days can be great days. Great days are always good days. Good days are never not awesome days, not never.

We sometimes do not know when we have good days because good days might begin as bad days, but by the end of the day we have had a good day. Just because the day began bad, does not mean it can not turn into a good day.

Good days are determined by the amount of good we have had that day. Good days are days in which we overcome the bad to become the good.

Do not let bad days stand in the way of good days.

Good days are times in the day which we consider good.

If you are not having a good day, grow a beard.

FIre ants sucks ass.

Remember the most important step in having a good day, have a good time.

No SHave Never

Twitter @paulheels.

Today is Mother’s Day. What a grand day today is. The day churrins get to celebrate their mothers. The day husbands get to help their, under the age of 15, churrins celebrate their mothers.

I would like to wish my momma a Happy Mother’s Day.

I want to wish my wife, the Beardess, a Happy Mother’s Day, from Adurey, the Baby Gurr.

Mother’s Day is a day where mommas can sit back and relax. No worries about Sunday lunches, no cleaning clothes, no running to the grocery store, it is all a day of peace and relaxation. Daddies take care of the children for the day.

This day of relaxation is a small reminder to mothers that there still is a place called sanity, and she is welcome for a tease once a year.

There have been times where I have thought that we should change Mother’s Day for our momma. Instead of Happy Mother’s Day, it will be Happy Mother’s Rehabilitation and Physical Therapy Day.

Today, on this Mother’s Day, my momma sits at home with a broken Tibia, or Fibula, I can not remember which one. No big deal ya’ll, do not worry. She is fine. It was a minor spiral break around the ankle area on her non-kicking leg. Recovery should be about 6 weeks. She was ordered to wear a walking boot for those six weeks, instead of a cast.

It is obvious the doctor did not know who he was talking to. That cast would have been permanent, I want to see how long that boot stays on.

This broken bone thing is not a new thing for momma. Neither is hospital visits.

I am going to try to highlight some of the events momma has accumulated. I will also incorporate my sister Emily’s “Amazing Escapades of Daring Hospital Visits”, because her and my momma are pretty much in a battle for emergency room infamy.

As I said before, momma broke one of those bones down near the ankle. Walking to her car, she stepped off the curb, because it was dark out, and somehow managed to incorporate her foot into a storm drain, in such a manner that the force of impact manipulated the bone so that a crack formed, separating bone from bone, minor injury.

About this same time, Emily, my sister, was dealing with a spider bite, that had just got infected. She was promptly admitted to the hospital for treatment. She ended up with a knot about the size of a baseball on her arm, staph infection, and the rare opportunity to possibly have her arm sliced open for draining! They did not have to open and drain.

Emily about chopped her hand off trying to trim hedges with a hatchet. Yes, trimming bushes, with a hatched.

Momma broke her hip, no shes not 80 or above. This was quite a few years ago. I know, how do you break a hip under the age of 80? She blames Crocs. Those delightfully comfortable plastic open-toed shoes/sandals. But yes, that happened.

There have been surgeries, casts, needles, heart machines, Momma having to use homemade sign language for a month, wheelchairs, walkers, and many more things.

Just about every Mother’s Day that rolls around, my first words after Happy Mother’s Day are, “How’s it healing or How’s therapy?”.

On this Mother’s Day I wish my momma a Happy Mother’s Day. Take it easy and heal up. I got you and Emily a joint gift, share as needed. It is a bubble. Use it wisely.

Follow me on Twitter @paulheels

No SHave Never

There are questions and I need answers. I will present these questions and I want answers. I do not care if these answers are correct or false, I just want answers. There is a comment box down yonder at the bottom of this post. Put my answers there.
Just give me your answers.
I do not know how else to say this. I want answers, from the tens of ya’ll that read this gibberishness,
Here, we go.

1. How the hell do you get the shed hair out of a round brush with close together bristles?

2. Why do butterflies congregate and play on dog shit?

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3. How do diapers hold so much tinkle?

4. Who is in charge of the Stock Market?

5. How does so much poop come out of such small things as little birds?

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6. Who invented bacon and why is it so delicious?

7. Why does gasoline smell so good?

8. What the hell happened to the flare pins that the waiters and waitresses wore at Outback? Why do they not wear them anymore? I am pissed.

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Answers these questions for me. One of you will win nothing because I do not have anything to give away. Maybe one day I will. But not now.

I always say, “I got to buy shit at yardsales, not sale.” Because junk is just another word for collectibles.

Follow me on The Twitter @paulheels

No SHave Never!