Stuff and Nonsense: September 2019

No History Today

It's how I roll, yo.

I know, I know...please try to rein in your disappointment. No, instead of my slog through world history (which will probably take years. Much like world history itself. Isn't that weird?), I've decided to repost something from the old Penwasser Place.

The vast majority of you have seen this, but I plan on also sending it to Facebook, for those who who haven't. I'm especially thinking about a particular friend who posted a story very similar to this last week.

I promised her that I would return fire with fire.

   Although fire had nothing to do with this story...

Journey to the Center of my Bowels

A long time ago, in a medical clinic not so far away…

One of the benefits of turning 50 was that, besides grey hair sprouting from my nose, needing Pepsi to burp, and developing nail fungus also known as “Old Man Toe,” I got a chance to feel what it’s like to spend time in a Turkish prison.

The word “colonoscopy” is Greek in origin. Its entomology

Not to be confused with "Entenmannology."
Or "Study of Breakfast Foods."

(no, wait a minute, that’s the "study of insects." I meant ‘etymology’-I can never get those straight) derives from “colonos” which means “butt” and “scopy” which means “look see.” (NOTE: may not be true).

As befit my advancing years, I was treated to the full Monty (coincidentally, the doctor’s actual name) a few years ago. I feel sorry for the poor guys on a limited budget. They can only afford a “semicolonoscopy.”

The day before, I was directed to drink a couple bottles of what’s called Fleet Phospho Soda. Boy, howdy, does that stuff work! I haven’t felt that emotionally attached to my lavatorial facilities since my surgery in 1988 (I'll just leave that to your imagination).

Yeah. A lot like that.

Anyway, I felt like one of those water rockets we bought as kids. Remember those? You know, the kind you pump up with water until, when you can no longer pump them up, you just pop the cork and let ‘em fly?

I could never predict when it was time for, uh, "Old Faithful" to erupt (so to speak). Needless to say, I left my white pants in the closet with the rest of my Miami Vice wardrobe.

Falling asleep was an adventure. Luckily for me (and my terrified wife), my own personal levees weren’t breached during the night. Although, by the time I woke up, I was so full that I felt like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade balloon (I don’t know which one, but I’ll bet it wasn't one of the popular ones).

Throughout the day, I had to fast (which was pretty easy since I’m ‘half-fast’, anyway). Although I couldn’t stray too far from my bathroom because, whenever I had to, uh, you know, I had to, uh, you know. Thank goodness I had plenty to read. Plus, that handheld Yahtzee was a godsend.

No one will ever want to use it again, though.

I grew so famished throughout the day that I started licking the Sunday paper ads for Burger King.

I think he kind of dug it, though.

Finally, my wife drove me to the rather unfortunately

He made me a little nervous.
Plus...a scalpel???

named “Dr. Mengele Center for Endoscopic Surgery-Sponsored by BEANO!”

After checking in, I was escorted into the prep room. Once I disrobed, I was asked if I had gone to the bathroom. Ya know, not for nothin’, wouldn’t it have been better to ask before I took my clothes off? That way, if I hadn’t used the bathroom, I wouldn’t have had to parade naked through a mortified waiting room.

Oh, and incidentally, I thought it was odd that it was the janitor who asked me to disrobe.

The nurse (recently laid off from Verizon) explained what was going to happen. My eyes grew wide when she showed me a picture of the “instrument.”

Like this.
But far, far worse.

Good grief and all that's holy, they were going to shove a piece of PVC pipe so far up the exit that I was going to be a piñata for a sadist or, at the very least, a Popeye Lawn sprinkler.

I was told I would be filled with air and that I was encouraged to "expel" that air when I was done (not wanting to waste it, I’m going to wait until church and then make a joyful noise unto the Lord!).

As they wheeled me into the operating room, I reminded them if they found any cave paintings they should send them to the Smithsonian Institution.

I was told I’d be so pumped full of drugs, I wouldn’t feel a

"Hey, Mr. Jinkies needed the money."

thing. I informed the “Butt People” that, since that was the case, they could do whatever they wanted. I wish I hadn’t told them that though. Because I think I’m going to be on You Tube. With a monkey.

Luckily, everything turned out great. They did find a polyp (and Jimmy Hoffa) which they cut out. I plan on having it bronzed (the polyp, not Jimmy Hoffa).

So, that’s my story. Rest assured, everything went well for the most part. I have trust issues now, though. Still, it's a relief to not have to lick the paper anymore.

But, I’ll never look at my garden hose the same way again.

Photo Phinish VII

Meanwhile...on Interstate 81.
An air conditioner.
Cut into the tailgate of a truck.
In West Virginia.
Naturally.

A Penwasser History of the World-Part XVI

NOTE: I'll continue to post this disclaimer. The past several posts and who-knows-how-many-posts-to-come are merely what I can remember from Our Lady of Barnum Avenue and History Class at Stratford High School while growing up older in Connecticut. I will research some specifics, mostly dates and the most obscure of names, and I'll try to place historical events in their proper historical context. Meaning, I won't have the Aztecs land on the moon. Or...did they? Trust me, some of this is true; however, don't use any of this nonsense to prepare for the History Advanced Placement Examination. If you do, the only college you'll get into is Klown Kollege and you'll probably be confused for Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Or Joe Biden. Especially if you sniff their hair.

"Possible Route."
Apparently before AAA or Waze were invented

The Hebrews

Holy Moses

I'm going to go completely without a net here when I tell the story of ~~Charlton Heston~~ Moses as he waged wits with ~~Yul Brynner~~ Ramses to free ~~white people~~ the Hebrews from bondage in Egypt, despite romantic overtures from ~~Anne Baxter~~ Nefertiri, who really didn't mind men who grew their beards to "ZZ Top" proportions. Even though Moses was already married to ~~Lily Munster~~ Zipporah.

Okay, maybe I've seen the movie too much. Still, I remember a few other things about the story of Moses from my time in elementary school. It's guaranteed I'll get a few names wrong, but I'm pretty sure I got the basic story of how the Jewish people really began.

I'll leave off my puzzlement as to why The Ten Commandments always played on Easter Sunday. To me, it's more of a Passover flick than anything else. But, hey, what do I know? I was just an altar boy for four years. Who's going to spend several hundred years in Purgatory. Which may not exist anymore, anyway.

So, there's that.

Let's get to it.

If you recall from our last episode…Joseph (sans "Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat"*) managed to talk his family and neighbors into schlepping to Egypt when a great famine hit. There they'd have plenty to eat and would live happily ever after.

Psyche.

In classic biblical "WTF??" fashion, Joseph's (having long since died. Lucky Joseph) people found themselves enslaved by the Egyptians who were too lazy to do any work themselves. The Hebrews would wind up, not building the pyramids, as is commonly thought (the pyramids had long since gone out of fashion after the Egyptians figured out they could get away with building condos for the afterlife instead), but doing other slave-type stuff.

Moses' mom, who was a Hebrew (I think we're all clear on that), despaired of her son becoming a slave and, so, set him adrift on a little papyrus (or Styrofoam. Maybe) raft thingie on a little creek near where the Pharaoh's daughter, Mitsy, was bathing.

Apparently, Mom never considered the possibility that Moses could drown. Or be eaten by crocodiles. Stupid Mom.

NOTE: If I may…? It's interesting to know that Moses had sisters. I guess Mom figured, "Eff the girls. They can be slaves. That'll teach them to steal my makeup." We continue…

Anyway, Mitsy decided to adopt the little baby, who clearly was

"You think your father will buy he's a
gift from the gods, princess?"
"PFFTT!!! The dude worships cats so I gotta say yes."

destined to head the Cairo NRA. How she pawned the baby off with Dad (Seti…?), sources are unclear. I just think Seti was happy his daughter had finally found something to keep herself occupied instead of mooning about how ugly she was and how none of her brothers would marry her.

Moses became quite a big shot around the palace and was allowed to keep a full head of hair, despite Seti's other son Yul Rameses who was forced to wear some goofy thing jutting from the side of his head.

Hey, wait an effin' second! This isn't Moses and Ramses. It's Batman and some guy!!

Okay, that's more like it. PHEW!!!

However (and this is where the wheels come off the chariot), Moses killed an overseer who was abusing a slave with a whip or an unending litany of "knock knock" jokes (sources are unclear).

Nefertiri
(May not be historically accurate)
Personally, I would have kept my trap shut.
Guess that's why I'm going to Purgatory

For some reason, Moses was outed a s a Hebrew himself and, instead of keeping it to himself, was banished by Seti to the desert (a lot of desert out there). This overjoyed Yul Ramses, who could now shave his head.

While in the desert, Moses grew a beard, married a shepherd girl,

Okay, even though she became
Lily Munster, not bad.
But, geez-a-lou, Nefertiri.
Yowza.

and took a call from God via a burning bush (all the desert had was "Dial-Up Internet" and you know how much of a pain in the ass that can be).

Anyway, God told Moses to go back to Egypt and bring the Hebrews out of bondage (after making sure they had cut off their foreskins, as agreed upon hundreds of years ago).

"First, love slave.
Then, desert toilet paper.
Now this? WTF!!??"

Well, if the bush gives him an order, he had to listen so he jumped a donkey back to Egypt, where Ramses was now Pharaoh and had a nice little side business making condoms out of the intestines of the ever-beleaguered sheep.

Ramses, even though told that God wanted the Hebrews to break their lease, refused to lose his work force. So, Moses brought down a plague of flies, rats, Gilbert Gottfried impersonators, boils, crickets, Jehovah Witnesses, bloody stools, rickets, frogs, locusts, hail, acne, and hair in their soup**

When none of this worked, Moses thundered that the first born of Egypt would be killed by the Destroyer (or Terminator…sources are unclear). Nefertiri*** swore that her son was safe.

Apparently, the Hebrews lived near a Taco Bell

Once again...psyche.

Well, yeah, this was finally the last straw and Yul Ramses told

"Nyah, where's your god now?
I gotta go where???"

Moses to take his people (including that weasel, Dathan G. Robinson) and GTFO. Not needing to be told twice, Moses peaced out and headed south (yeah, I don't know why, either).

Yul Ramses had a change of heart (the movie said "his heart was hardened." But, he was now married to Nefertiri. So, I don't think his heart was hardened, amirite?) and chased after them, but his army drowned when Moses parted the Red Sea. Or a crick (sources are unclear. I think.)

"Okay, everyone scoot over before someone puts the plug back in.
Of for the love of...your feet will dry, Herschel!!!"

Once more…psyche.

Egyptians defeated, Moses took his people on a scenic trip which ultimately lead wayyyyyyyyyyy to the south at Mount Sinai (once again, I don't know why). Moses decided to get away from all the racket ("So when are we getting to the Land of Milk and Honey already?") and went up to chat with the Almighty through a bush or something.

Meanwhile Dathan G. Robinson whipped the notoriously fickle people into a frenzy and had them make a calf of gold. Or Velveeta (sources are unclear). When Moses came down with a couple of tablets outlining the Ten Commandments, he was outraged and threw the tablets against a slow goatherder, saying they weren't worthy to receive them (the goatherder was worthy enough to receive an ice pak, though). Even though they were destroyed, the Hebrews still had to follow them after turning Dathan G. Robinson into Soylent Green.

"IT'S PEOPLE!!!!"
Yeah, yeah, yeah...we get it.

After a few crackers, the Hebrews wandered around for 40 years (apparently, God wasn't done preparing the Promised Land for new tenants). Finally, just as they got there, Moses disobeyed God by failing to knock a rock the proper amount of times. So, God said, "Screw you! Now you don't get a chance to see the Promised Land."

I know this will be wildly blasphemous, but...kind of a douche move there, God.

Moses then went on to be a galley slave for the Romans before winning a chariot race and freeing his mom and sister from the lepers. After they bathed, of course.

What the f...brother can't catch a break.

Next: I wrap up the Jewish story with David. Probably.

*Still copyrighted by Andrew LLoyd Webber. Probably.

**List may not be accurate

***In the movie. Sue me.

Photo Phinish VI

A Penwasser History of the World-Part XIV

The Hebrews

Joseph
No, not that Joseph

You may be wondering how in the heck did the Israelites/Hebrews wind up in Egypt, of all places? I mean it wasn't as if they could call Canaan Uber and ride a camel (huh, come to

"I told you...next week."

think of it, that's probably what they did). Was it more than Charlton Heston and Yul Brynner scoring cool acting gigs?

Clearly, it was something more….*

After Jacob had his bath towels and smoking jacket done with the "Israel" monogram, he proceeded to have a boatload of kids (I mean, it wasn't like there was much else to do). From what I can remember, he had something like twelve sons and, though the Bible doesn't mention them, he must have had daughters as well. Meaning the Israels' probably chalked up a whopping grocery bill at the Heshibbon Shop Rite and could barely keep enough toilet paper in stock.

"Not AGAIN!!! I just took a bath!!!"

Well, they had sheep so I guess they were good to go in the lavatorial department, at least. Probably had to deal with a lot of ticked-off sheep, though.

The eleventh of his twelve sons was called Joseph. Joseph became Dad's favorite. He was smart, handsome, and treated the sheep well. That said, he was a little weird because he had this habit of picking his toenails at the dinner table, doing card tricks, and interpreting peoples' dreams.

"Son, I had this dream of a train going through a tunnel. Any idea what that means?"

"You know you and Mom have more than twelve kids, right, Pop?"

"Ohhhhhhhhh…….."
"And you also know that trains haven't been invented yet, either, right?"

"What? Again with the trains?"

Israel/Jacob was so delighted that he gifted his favorite son

Possibly similar to this

with an Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat**. His brothers were outraged at this unabashed favoritism, especially since all they got for their birthdays were amazing technicolor dreamsocks and some Slim Jims from the 7-Eleven in Meggiddo.

That said, they sold their brother into slavery to a passing band of Ishmaelites (of the Ishmael Ishmaelites) who were on their way to Egypt to see a camel show, purchase some grain, take selfies at the pyramids, and see if those brother/sister stories were true.

To trick their father into believing their brother was dead, they took Joe' s coat and ripped it to shreds after coating it with sheep's blood (those poor effin' sheep could never catch a break).

Hopefully, their father would think Joseph ran afoul of a wolf, lion, or jackal instead of a pissed-off sheep who just had a perm.

Once he arrived in Egypt, Joseph was shocked to find out that

"I don't know animals."

nobody cared that he knew what card they picked. But, the Pharaoh was intrigued with Joe's dream skills. When he told the Israelite slave that he dreamed of seven fat and seven skinny sheep (or goats…one of those barnyard critters…probably not chickens, though), Joseph knew exactly what the dreams portended.

"Hey, I'm big-boned. Get off my ass."

"Welllll, excuse me, Rosie!"

"Well, either you can only afford to send seven sheep to Jenny Craig or….try this on for size…Egypt will have seven great years followed by seven years of famine."

Not wanting to take any chances, the Pharaoh ordered that his people store as much grain and porno mags as they could. That way, they'd have something to read when the crops failed (okay, eat, too). To hedge his bets, he put Joseph in charge of the whole shebang. That way, if the whole dream stuff turned out to be bogus, he could blame the Jew***.

As it turned out, famine did strike Egypt, but everything was cool because they had socked away enough chow to see them through. In fact, when word of their ~~porn~~ food supply reached other countries, they were besieged by neighbors with their hands out.

"MAKE GIZA GREAT AGAIN!"

Rather than building a great wall from the Mediterranean to the Red Sea, as urged by the Minister of Something Yuge, General Abu Trumpenotep, Joseph sought to help those who weren't gifted with mad dream skills.

In a twist seen only on television and in the Bible, Joseph's brothers rang his bell one day, asking if he could spare a couple rolls. They didn't recognize the brother they had sold into slavery because Joseph wore a pair of Groucho Marx glasses (or a rubber chicken on his head). I'm sure I was told, but I can't remember.

"You were, boyo! Knuckles if ye please."

Joe wanted to goof on his brothers and didn't immediately tell them. Isn't that just like kid brothers? Finally, after a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors or possibly 20 Questions, Joseph flung off his chicken and announced his real identity.

Before asking WTF happened to his coat.

Despite the bad news about his coat and the sheep, he told his brothers to hustle on home to bring Dad, Mom, little brother Ben (who was busy massaging Israel's corns), and anyone else they could fit on a camel back to Egypt. There, they'd have plenty to eat and would live happily ever after.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

Next: Holy Moses

*It's always something more at Penwasser Place, isn't it?

**Copyright: Andrew Lloyd Webber.

***This has apparently worked for thousands of years.

Eighteen Years Ago

Those of you who've been readers of Penwasser Place will recognize the following account of where I was when New York City, Washington D.C., and Shanksville, Pennsylvania were savagely attacked by fundamentalist psychopaths. I haven't changed a word and will never change a word.

I'll repeat "Never Forget."

Tragically, some Americans have.

It was just before one o’clock in the afternoon on September 11th (a sad commentary: we don’t even need to identify the year anymore) when my maintenance supervisor stuck his head into my room to wake me.

“Sir, someone just flew a plane into the World Trade Center.”

Minutes later, I watched, horrified, as a second plane struck the South tower. And then, as both of the monstrously huge structures tumbled to the ground as if kicked by a petulant child.

My unit and I were participating in a multi-nation exercise at the Naval Air Station in Keflavik, Iceland (this explains why it was the afternoon). A round-the-clock operation, the Keflavik Tactical Exchange gave us a unique chance to evaluate each other’s capabilities should we ever needed to flex our respective militaries. Little did we know that we were preparing for a type of war which belonged to the past.

Because the 21st Century came roaring into each of our lives on that late summer day.

Naturally, the exercise was immediately cancelled. Foreign aircrews (funny that I call them “foreign’” since we were actually foreigners, too) beat hasty returns to their home bases. We were told that American airspace was closed for an indefinite time.

Station security forces went into their highest readiness posture. Watch teams at the main gate beefed up, rings of barbed wire cordoned off perceived sensitive areas, and armed patrols roamed the perimeter.

My watch teams and I, on the other hand, remained at our billeting. Only in Iceland for the exercise, we were considered non-essential personnel who’d only get in the way.

And so we spent the next few days.

I received a worried phone call from my wife during this time. She fretted over my safety. I assured her that I was fine, but omitted the fact that I was more concerned for her and the kids.

You see, my family lives only a couple hours from New York and only a few from Washington.

The ensuing few days was a frantic search for whatever updates we could glean from the news and how in the world we’d get ourselves and thousands of pounds of equipment back home.

Most importantly, we desperately wanted to know how we could get into the fight. Whatever the fight was.

Four days later, U.S. airspace was opened to military traffic. As I glanced through the window of the Navy patrol plane which took us home, I was struck at how empty the sky was-with the exception of the one plane which approached us as we crossed into the United States. It came no closer than a few miles before it disappeared.

I think it was a fighter aircraft.

What’s more, the radio circuits, normally full of the cacophony of countless air traffic controllers, were eerily silent. The only ones “on the air” were the handful which guided us home. All else were hushed into silence.

Our route of flight took us just south of Manhattan, well out of sight of land. At that distance, even at the altitude at which we were flying, it was impossible to see any of the city skyline.

But, we did see a huge pall of gray-brown smoke lingering in the air like the death shroud that it was.

As we touched ground at the air station we called home, there was nobody to greet us. There was really not much of anything by way of an acknowledgment that we were back. Somehow, it seemed fitting.

After all, we all had something much more important to do.

Go home to our families.

In memory of:

Commander Bill Donovan, USN

AW2 (NAC/AW) Joseph Pycior, USN

and the thousands whose only crime was going to work that day.