Bill Roddey: Fanaticism is the enema of the people. Where would you be, if you weren't where you are? Contrary to the name, Minute Rice can not tell time. There's another SAW movie coming out. It's set in a playground. It's called SEE SAW. That is all. Spock out.
I read that there's a nurses' shortage. My solution would be to hire taller nurses.
He's like a boulder. The only thing that would move him is a thousand years of erosion.
Just one of life's little observations. You know, as a guy, that there's some gender confusion if you sit down to pee in a stand up urinal. Or, I guess you could just have a beer battered brain.
I was gonna get one of those new iPads, but you can only plug it in during THAT time of the month, so I decided not to.
The most interesting man in the world says "Stay thirsty, my friends." REALLY? That's all he has to say? What is he a beer salesman? Oh right. He is. REALLY!
Lil' known fact. Prescription glasses don't come in gelcaps.
I like my bananas ripe enough to have to fight the fruit flies for them. I just thought you'd want to know.
With all the death around us daily, it feels like we're all just circling the drain.
For most of us, the closest we'll ever get to a three-way is a light bulb
I was just blown to kingdom come and it mussed up me hair.
Somebody built a bird's nest in our garbage on top of the empty burrito box in the kitchen. I thought you'd want to know.
That high definition is so detailed that when I saw a cartoon in hi def on HBO I could make out the artist in the background drawing it.
Ice skatin' zombies. 'Nuff said.
The sign going into the hospital said “TOBACCO FREE”, so at the reception desk I ask for a pack of free cigarettes.
GPS means -GO PAST your STREET.
“Don't ask. Go to hell. It's none of your business!” says the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
First I used to eat the old Domino's pizza, that even they said was crappy, second I thought Toyotas were cool cars, not death cabs for cuties, third I had over 400 Face Book friends delete me 'cause I asked to borrow money from them as they were my new friends and I joined I'm With Coco 'cause I love hot cocoa and I believed John Edwards never had a baby with that woman. I'm such a loser
What do you get extra from a Face Book friend with benefits? Fertilizer from Farm Ville? Dirty Money from Mafia Wars? Or Cyber Sex from Virtual Barbie?
Once upon a Timex...The clock struck 12...innocent people and sent them to the hospital. Which way is clockwise on a digital watch? Sideways? What happens when your watch stops? Does that mean the world's run out of time?
I'm up for the Nobel Pizza Prize. Keep your greasy fingers crossed. This could my year. Frankly, I could use the dough.
His Royal Furiness, Mr. Mustang. I scratched his head, he gave me one last wet nose kiss, then crawled under the computer table and died. Sweet cat, The best. Monumentally missed.
As I walked thru the valley of the shadow of death I saw no weasels, but I did spot an S&H Green Stamps Redemption Center, shuttered since the 70's.
Chocolate is God's gift to bellies and butts.
You mean I'm a suspect? ZZZZZZZZZZZZ. .....for male enhancement. HUUMMMMMMM. You mean I'm a suspect? ZZZZZZZZZZZ.... We find for the defendant. HUUMMMMMMMM. You mean I'm a suspect? ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. ...... erectile dysfunction. HUUMMMMMM. You mean I'm a suspect? ZZZZZZZZZ. "Honey, honey it's time to go to bed.... Honey!" Next week on LAW AND ORDER... CLICK!
An agnostic is just an atheist hedging his bets.
Hi there, I'm available for long wet walks in the woods. Call me soon. I'm booking up fast. Wilma.
I'm a semi-vegetarian. I only eat animals that eat vegetables. Which is why we won't be serving Hannibal the Cannibal Lecter with corn bread stuffing and ketchup for Thanksgiving dinner. I have my principles.
I don't care what they say, failure is ALWAYS an option.
I'm morally bankrupt, I need a sexual stimulus.
The center will not hold, so white knuckle the edges.
I just wanna wake up on a day when my grandson Jack is still alive.
I sleep walked so much last night that I walked into someone else's dream where I saw a mob hit and I've been running ever since. I can't fall to seep for fear I'll get whacked by Guido "Pizza Crusted One Tooth" O'Hara because I'm a material witness. The material was mohair for my baby doll pajamas
Monday, April 26
Wednesday, April 21
HITCHHIKING THRU OLD EUROPE
Even though it’s spring, I’ve got cabin fever. Not from the weather trapping me in the house, but because we haven’t been on a vacation since the last summer and have months to go before we hit the road again.
So I’m reduced to hitchhiking through my memories of old Europe- England, Holland, France, Italy- when I was young and single and everything was possible. Everything meant that I could possibly meet a pretty girl who’d let me spend all my money on dating her.
I remember strolling around Nice on the French Riviera with my buddies Mike and Mark, wearing my Troop 91 explorer scout shirt trying to attract the girls who liked men in uniform. I couldn’t wear my U.S. Air Force blues there because of the rampant anti-Americanism due to the Vietnam War then.
It was 1970 and we were ahead of our times as we sipped bubbly bottled French water while standing in the sea on a rocky Riviera Beach. The water was so crystal clear you could see your toes wiggle under the waves. It was naturally stony, so they had to bring in sand for the rich to have sandy beaches like in America.
We drank wine at dinner because it was cheaper than coke. Breakfast and lunch was crusty torpedo loaves of bread and pungent French cheese. From Nice we looked up at the castle on the adjacent mountain in Monaco to see if the lights were on, indicating whether Prince Rainier and Princess Grace were home.
Grace Kelly filmed Alfred Hitchcock’s “To Catch A Thief” there with Cary Grant and returned later to catch a prince. The lights were on, but we never saw the royal couple. We did see rich men losing thousands of francs at the one and only casino that made Monte Carlo in Monaco so famous.
They played James Bond’s baccarat game where the cards are scooped up. All I did was buy a $5 poker chip as a souvenir. My money was too precious to gamble it away then.
However, money was no object when it came to buying an expensive book on my favorite painter Salvador Dali on the left bank of Paris later. I couldn’t read it because it was in French, but I could marvel at the photos of his surrealistic paintings. Mike and Mark were appalled that I had spent my beer money on a book.
But I shared my book with Elise, a pretty American girl at a dive called The American Bar. She loved Dali and hated Frenchmen philosophizing all day without getting to the point. She bought me my beers.
Like the old TV show “Ali McBeal” the bar had a unisex bathroom where men and women went to go. It was all stalls, sinks and mirrors, so you could keep eye contact with the opposite sex of your choice from bar to bathroom and back. Only a stall door separated you briefly till the flush.
We left the American Bar at 6 a.m. for another bar that opened at 6. I lost Elise there to a philosophizing Frenchman and ended up talking to the bartender who said that Dali used to get drunk there. I showed him my new book.
Another time in Paris, my new found friend Barry and I did dialogue from our favorite movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” on a bus through the city to meet some American girls we had befriended in Amsterdam.
I had stolen Barry’s girl from him in Amsterdam, so on the train trip to Paris I guiltily gave up my seat beside a beautiful Italian girl to Barry. So while I stood and watched the French countryside speed by, Barry turned on the charm and got her phone number to call.
As I walked around Paris’ right bank holding Barry’s girl’s hand I pointed out how beautiful an ornate bridge was linking two buildings. Barry’s girl said that they had one just like that in Cleveland. And they say that travel is so broadening.
So I’m reduced to hitchhiking through my memories of old Europe- England, Holland, France, Italy- when I was young and single and everything was possible. Everything meant that I could possibly meet a pretty girl who’d let me spend all my money on dating her.
I remember strolling around Nice on the French Riviera with my buddies Mike and Mark, wearing my Troop 91 explorer scout shirt trying to attract the girls who liked men in uniform. I couldn’t wear my U.S. Air Force blues there because of the rampant anti-Americanism due to the Vietnam War then.
It was 1970 and we were ahead of our times as we sipped bubbly bottled French water while standing in the sea on a rocky Riviera Beach. The water was so crystal clear you could see your toes wiggle under the waves. It was naturally stony, so they had to bring in sand for the rich to have sandy beaches like in America.
We drank wine at dinner because it was cheaper than coke. Breakfast and lunch was crusty torpedo loaves of bread and pungent French cheese. From Nice we looked up at the castle on the adjacent mountain in Monaco to see if the lights were on, indicating whether Prince Rainier and Princess Grace were home.
Grace Kelly filmed Alfred Hitchcock’s “To Catch A Thief” there with Cary Grant and returned later to catch a prince. The lights were on, but we never saw the royal couple. We did see rich men losing thousands of francs at the one and only casino that made Monte Carlo in Monaco so famous.
They played James Bond’s baccarat game where the cards are scooped up. All I did was buy a $5 poker chip as a souvenir. My money was too precious to gamble it away then.
However, money was no object when it came to buying an expensive book on my favorite painter Salvador Dali on the left bank of Paris later. I couldn’t read it because it was in French, but I could marvel at the photos of his surrealistic paintings. Mike and Mark were appalled that I had spent my beer money on a book.
But I shared my book with Elise, a pretty American girl at a dive called The American Bar. She loved Dali and hated Frenchmen philosophizing all day without getting to the point. She bought me my beers.
Like the old TV show “Ali McBeal” the bar had a unisex bathroom where men and women went to go. It was all stalls, sinks and mirrors, so you could keep eye contact with the opposite sex of your choice from bar to bathroom and back. Only a stall door separated you briefly till the flush.
We left the American Bar at 6 a.m. for another bar that opened at 6. I lost Elise there to a philosophizing Frenchman and ended up talking to the bartender who said that Dali used to get drunk there. I showed him my new book.
Another time in Paris, my new found friend Barry and I did dialogue from our favorite movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” on a bus through the city to meet some American girls we had befriended in Amsterdam.
I had stolen Barry’s girl from him in Amsterdam, so on the train trip to Paris I guiltily gave up my seat beside a beautiful Italian girl to Barry. So while I stood and watched the French countryside speed by, Barry turned on the charm and got her phone number to call.
As I walked around Paris’ right bank holding Barry’s girl’s hand I pointed out how beautiful an ornate bridge was linking two buildings. Barry’s girl said that they had one just like that in Cleveland. And they say that travel is so broadening.
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