To Post or Not to Post?

    I’ve learned, over the years, that posting on social media can sometimes be precarious.  For instance, I once wrote an article for Navy Times for which I needed to profusely apologize.  No, I didn’t reveal any national secrets nor foment any sort of mutiny.  No, all I did was mock a meeting that I went to (e.g., "We spent five days doing 2 hours worth of work.  On the bright side, there were unlimited doughnuts.").  

"Unlimited, you say?"
    It would have been no big deal, but I named the actual meeting.  Not a good thing.  So, even though some folks ridiculed my apology as knuckling under to those humor-challenged folks who would later go on to lucrative careers in the Trump Administration, I saw where those “offended” had a point.  

They may have gotten a little carried away, though.
   Enter extensive mea culpas.

"WRONG!  I have a yuge sense of humor. 
For instance two nips walk into a bar with a parrot.  
No. Wait.  Forget what I just said."

"That okay. We no rike Japan."

    Similarly, the year before last, I made a comment on Cheryl Massey's Cherdo on the Flipside blog.  She upbraided me (VERY politely) that her blog was viewed by people of all ages.  Therefore, my comment was inappropriate, and she deleted it.  She had a very good point and I even wrote a blog about not going into someone else’s house to make off-color remarks or pull-my-finger comments.

I hear it helps with zits.  
But, there's that whole cholesterol thing, though.
    What I learned from both instances is to be very careful what you post, especially in another’s world (be it Blogger, Facebook, or even Twitter).  Even though I had something of egg on my face, I was told that what I was doing wasn’t a good idea.  I appreciated that.

    A couple weeks ago, a Facebook friend mentioned that he had
"I don't get the conneckshun."
taken his son to a birthday brunch.  I commented, using the picture of that guy with the huge neck (you know the one) whether they served chicken necks.

    My friend (a conservative like me, so this was a real surprise) sent me a private message, saying that he had deleted the picture.  No explanation.  Just that he deleted it.

    I thought about what I posted to try to determine what was wrong.  The ONLY explanation I could come up with is that some people may find it racist.  Because it was a picture of a black man asking about chicken necks.  Okay, maybe if I had a picture of a black man asking about watermelon or fried chicken, sure, that would be racist (and wildly so).  But, come ON, the whole joke about this guy is that he has a huge NECK.  And, I'm sorry, restaurants don’t sell pig, cow, or fish necks.  Just chicken necks.

"Pig necks are unclean!"

"And cow necks are gross!"
"That's ridiculous.  Fish don't have necks.  
They are dead sexy, though."
    So, those people who would find offense are idiots.

    Since my friend is friends with such a knucklehead who does find race in anything, I can only conclude that was why.

"He's only shooting the cans 
that have black motor oil in them!"

    Since he didn't give me the courtesy of explaining his action,  I am left only to assume he doesn't want to deal with thin-skinned nitwits.  Therefore, why bother commenting on his posts in the future?

      So, I shan't.

    Similarly, last week, another friend removed a comment I made on one of her posts. She linked an outstanding article lambasting Gillette where the author used a variety of statistics to debunk the myth of widespread, out-of-control “toxic masculinity.” 

    I commented, “100% of people with a vagina are women.” 
"Holy crap!  They are???"
Then, I posted a picture of a shocked Caitlyn Jenner.

    She sent me a message saying she deleted the post because she was afraid certain people would question whether she supported transgender residents.  No way she does NOT, but I don’t blame her.  Who needs the grief that would entail?
    I saw her point.

    Bottom line, I respect her position.  Since she gave me the courtesy of an explanation, I’ll continue to post on her posts.

    The big difference between the two?  The first offered NO explanation, while the second explained why my comment went to "Comment Boneyard" (very much like Cheryl).

"Far too many bones here, already, FYI."

    The end result is that I am once more reminded to be careful when going to someone else’s house.  I’ll verbally “wipe my feet,” as it were.
    But, if you don’t tell me what’s what, then, well, let’s put it this way:  won’t be seeing me again if you delete my comment (which is definitely your right).

    Here, though, I’ll continue to be a cranky curmudgeon with questionable taste.  

    After all, it’s what I do.

Sign Language IV

The Norwegians, Finns, and Danes are reported to be seriously hacked off.
And filthy.

Two Year Anniversary

"...that I will faithfully execute the office of 
President of the United Sta...BILL!!!! How many 
times do I have to tell you to 
get off the GD cheerleader!!??"

Sign Language II

They cater to a specific demographic.  I get it. 
But, did they have to use such an insulting term?

Would I Be Able to Tell?

    One of the perks of my job (besides finding spare change on the
I just dump the ones I find
in the bathroom
into a bucket of bleach. 
Because ewwwwwww.....
floor) is that I get to listen to music and, quite often, podcasts.  These run the gamut from two talking heads arguing about the world of baseball to discussions about the Kennedy assassination and Marilyn Monroe's "suicide" (SPOILER:  They're not with us anymore).  

    One of the ones I listen to is a conspiracy theory/paranormal kind of show on Stitcher called Ground Zero with Clyde Lewis.  While I don't agree with a lot of what he says (some of it is wayyyyy out there) and am amazed at the number of drunks calling in to his show, it does pass the time while I "live the dream" (one little bit he plays between his discussion is Peter Griffin from Family Guy telling Brian, "Wowwwwww....ground zero.  So this is where the first guy got AIDS."). 

Come to think of it,
I hope that's a girl fish.
  Kinda silly, but it's way better than listening to Alex Jones rant about homosexual fish or how the NSA has bugged our bathrooms.

    Anyway, one of the things posited on Clyde's show is a theory that we live in a kind of simulation, much like the Truman Show or the Matrix.  In other words, we all live in a dystopian world where puppet-masters guide our every move.  Well, yeah, whatever.  Sounds a tad silly, but hey, whatever.
    In any case, it reminds me of a time back in 1978 (or
Ahhhhh...the 70s. 
I was a hot bit of business. 
With an untucked shirt.
'79...whenever) when I was part of the crew of USS America.  We were just returning to our port in Norfolk, Virginia from a two (or three...whatever) week period operating in the Caribbean Sea, a lot of which took place in the Bermuda Triangle.

    As I stood on the flight deck with a shipmate as we tied up to the pier (pretending that someone among the several hundred onlookers actually cared that I was coming back), he commented:

He:  You know we've been operating in the Bermuda Triangle, right?
Me:  Yeah.  So?
He:  Well, you know a lot of weird things happen there, right?
Me:  Once more, so?
He:   What if we entered another dimension when we there and all the people on the pier aren't who we think they are?  They could be the exact double of our families back in the real world.
Me:  Hmmmmm...would I know?
He:  No.
Me:  Then I don't care.

    So, bottom line, Clyde may be right.  We may actually be in the Matrix.  But, hell, I can't tell the difference.  So, unless a robot comes smashing through my bedroom window, I won't care, either.

    I'll just have to keep my voice down around my toilet.

    I think it's listening to me.  Alex Jones says so.

"Excuse me, what was your savings account number again? 
Asking for a friend. 
And, by the way, would it kill you to dump some scrubbing bubbles in here and run a brush around the rim every so often?"

Sign Language I

    You've seen them.

    Signs that are either poorly worded, misspelled, grammatically incorrect, homophonically (not a real word and nothing to do with homosexuals), rife with double entendres, or just ripe targets for mocking.

    We all pass these things and say to ourselves,  "That doesn't look right."  Well, quite often it's because these signs aren't right.

    So, in view of this (and in light of the fact that I'm a little wiseass), I'll be providing examples of these signs every week.  Call me a Grammar Nazi, a Punctuation Putz, or a little wiseass (I believe we've already covered that), but hey, it's what I do.

    I apologize in advance if you've already seen these, either on Facebook or in the previous incarnation of this blog.  Hey, they're quick hits, so you won't be investing too much of your time.  Then you can go visit Robyn Engel's blog.  She's eminently more talented than I.

   And better looking.  

My next what?

Hey, Who Turned the Frikkin' Heat Off?

NOTE:   Originally published in 2019, to a couple of you, this may look familiar.  To a couple more of you, this will be new stuff and build...