Biden begs Texas to secede

President Joe Biden today begged Texas Gov. Greg Abbott to lead Texas to secede from the United States a second time, promising that this time the secession will not be met with military resistance. 

An historic phone call about the energy future of the United States.

In a phone call late Tuesday afternoon, according to White House press agent Jen Psaki, President Biden explained to Gov. Abbott that because he has promised the Green left wing of his party never to allow increased oil production in the United States, his administration has been forced to beg Iran and Venezuela to sell oil to US refiners.

"Furthermore," said Ms. Psaki, "even Democrat members of Congress were willing to force through a vote mandating a ban on importing oil from Russia over the president's objections." 

Unable to authorize increasing domestic oil production, and finding no foreign producer would sell (or sell more) oil to America, the president had no choice but to create a new foreign producer who would provide additional oil capacity to American who are shocked by record-breaking pump prices. 

Hence the call to Texas Gov. Abbott, begging him to energize secessionists in Texas to re-establish the independent Republic of Texas and begin immediately to increase Texan oil production and sell directly to American refiners. 

"Then," explained Ms. Psaki, "the president can truthfully say that he held the line on crushing America's oil industry while filling the near-term needs with foreign sourcing. It's win-win for everyone!"

Gov. Abbott was not available for comment as we went to press. Texas' only prior secession lasted from 1861-1865 and did not turn out well for the state. 

Please note that this is a humor and satire post!

Military snipe hunts

Originally posted in 2014

Got to admit that in my military career I never personally knew a private who was sent on a military snipe hunt for turn blinker lubricant. Junior enlisted soldiers - and airmen, sailors and Marines - are sent off on such snipe hunts by slightly more senior and experienced troops. Some of the non-existent items they are sent to retrieve are tent locks, range fans to blow the fog off the rifle range, 50 feet of chow line, left-threaded kanootin valves, a can of radio squelch, bayonet extensions and the like. It's a sort of rite-of-passage thing for noobs. So Pvt. Snuffy is told to see the supply clerk for the item. 

The supply sergeant has been around and he immediately understands what's happening, so he says, "I just issued my last propellant regenerator to base piece, try them." So off Snuffy goes to base piece, where he is informed they gave it to the mess section to clean. And the mess section had it just an hour ago, but they sent it to the maintenance section for repair. And around and around and around he goes, never, of course, finding such an item.

Of course, some clever young troops figure out the score pretty quick and realize that they can take a whole day just walking around uselessly while the rest of their section are up to their elbows in grease working on some truck or tracked vehicle. 

A perennial-favorite snipe hunt is to send Snuffy off for a box of grid squares. Now, a grid square is a real thing. Military maps are printed with terrain features overlaid with thin lines forming boxes, representing to scale one kilometer squares. The squares are numbered by their easting and northing, so it makes perfect sense to refer to grid square 1436. Even new privates know this, so when some authority figure - a soldier of a rank or two higher - invents a need for a box of grid squares and sends him off to get it, then he does. But the grid squares are printed on the maps; they are not separate items. So there is no such thing as a "box of grid squares."

Usually. But in the artillery . . .

When I was a second lieutenant in Korea, I was an artillery battery fire direction officer when my battery took duty at fire base Four Papa One at the DMZ. One day Pvt. Snuffy, a mechanic, comes to our bunker and says that the Chief of Smoke (an E7, Sgt. 1st Class, whose duty position was Chief of Firing Battery) had sent him to get a box of grid squares. 

Now an E7 has no business starting this nonsense. These kinds of practical jokes are played by E4's on E2s, not on E2s by E7s. I looked at the buck sergeant who was the fire direction chief, he looked at me, and we both said almost simultaneously, "Wait right here." 

In those days, artillery ballistics computation was not much computerized. We computed firing data manually, using "charts and darts," as we said. We had two large, inclined tables. On one we mounted a large map of the potential targets areas. To keep the map clean we laid over it a sheet of unmarked, transparent plastic that was manufactured gridded in the same scale as the map. We would notate targets and other pertinent data on the plastic overlay and derive terrain information from the map. The other inclined table had no map, just the overlay plastic over white paper. This chart was used only to compute direction data for firing. All the targets were marked on it as well. 

The plastic overlays got scuffed and worn from constantly being written on, erased, and written on again. After about three days they had to be replaced. So we had a bountiful supply of used overlays. We'd keep them for several days then burn them all together. And all the overlays were gridded into squares. 

So my sergeant and I went to the back of the bunker and retrieved a used overlay. Using scissors, we carefully cut out 12-15 of the grid squares from an unused section. We put them in an empty pencil box, marked it "Grid Squares" with a Magic Marker, and gave it to Snuffy without the slightest hint of irony. He thanked me profusely, since he had been sent from the motor pool to the mess hall to the CP section to the base howitzer to the ammo section and finally to us, all with the stern admonition from the Smoke, "Don't come back here without the grid squares." Now, he had them. He was a happy young man. 

I was told by another NCO the next day that Snuffy, innocent as a lamb, went back to Smoke and gave him the box, saying, "Lieutenant Sensing said he can give you all the grid squares you want." And that the look on the Smoke's face when he opened the box to find - sure darn enough, grid squares - was worth taking a burst of six to see.

All the Halloween jokes you ever wanted to know

Q: What is the most important subject a witch learns in school?

A: Spelling.

Q: Why didn’t the skeleton want to go to school?

A: His heart wasn’t in it.

Q: Why didn’t the skeleton accept a dare?

A: He didn’t have the guts!

Q: Where do skeletons get broken bones fixed?

A: The body shop.

Q: Why didn’t the skeleton go to the dance?

A: Because he had no BODY to go with.

Q: What room does a ghost not need?

A: A living room.

Q: What is a mummy’s favorite music?

A: Wrap music!

Q: Why don’t skeletons eat spicy food?

A: They don’t have the stomach for it.

Q: What are cemeteries so crowded?

A: Because people are dying to get in.

Q: Why do ghosts like riding in elevators?

A: It raises their spirits.

Q: Why do mummies have no friends?

A: Because they’re too wrapped up in themselves!

Q: Why don’t spooks like rain on Halloween?

A: It dampens their spirits.

Q: What do you call Bambi’s ghost?

A: Bamboo.

Q: Why are ghosts so bad at lying?

A: Because you can see right through them!

Q: What is a vampire’s favorite fruit?

A: A nectarine!

Q: What kind of dessert does a ghost like?

A: I scream!

Q: What happens to bad little Egyptian girls?

A: They become mummies!

Q: What does a skeleton say before dinner?

A: Bone appetit!

Q: What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?

A: Frostbite.

Q: Why do ghosts make good cheerleaders?

A: Because they have a lot of spirit.

Q: Why is a skeleton so mean?

A: He doesn’t have a heart.

Q: Why don’t mummies go on vacation?

A: Because they don’t like to unwind!

Q: Why did the mummy sleep so soundly?

A: Because he was dead tired.

Q: Where do girl ghosts go to buy nice things?

A: The boo-tique.

Q: What is a skeleton’s favorite food?

A: Spare ribs.

Q: Where is a skeleton's favorite house located?

A: On a dead-end street.

Q: Where is a ghost's favorite house located?

A: On a boolevard.

Saying no to $5 Million

Dear Mrs. Coleman,

I am emailing in response to your kind offer, received this morning, of donating $5,0000,000 to our church. I am sure that you are sincere in wanting your late husband's estate, now held in escrow in Abidjan, to be used in Christian missions to benefit orphanages, widows, and evangelism. And I appreciate you offering me the chance to use the millions for those purposes.

I am so sorry that you are about to die of an undiagnosed illness, so I fully understand why you want me to take possession of the money quickly by contacting the security company in Abidjan and providing it with all my personal back-account numbers so they can transfer the money directly. That's very thoughtful of you!

However, I regret that I must decline your offer for the following reasons:

1. Due to the number of offers I receive similar to yours, mostly from Nigerian oil-minister widows, I no longer accept donations of less than $15 million. It's just not worth the hassle. If you can come up with another $10 million, please let me know. However, that is a constantly-moving target that rises practically weekly. So you should shoot for probably $17 million. At least.

2. My personal service fee, accruing solely to me, is 15 percent of the total donation amount. In your case my fee would come to $750,000. However, I no longer accept donations for which my fee is less than seven figures. And be assured that I would spend it on things other than your stated wishes, mainly on riotous living, expensive baubles, extensive vacations, expensive wines, man toys such as motorboats or Purdy shotguns, Bugattis, and what is left over on simple dam-foolishness.

3. "Coleman" is a funny name for a native-born, Muslim, Kuwaiti government official, even if his widow does want his fortune to be spent on Christian charities.

4. And finally, I decline because frankly, I am not an idiot.

Have a blessed day, whoever you really are, and maybe you could actually try working for a living.

Regards,
D. Sensing

How to have fun on young people

First, get a couple of stacks of these:

Yes, young people, this is an actual bill of US currency.

After you late-middle-age or older folks (like me) have obtained a stack or two of twos, do this (no link, sorry, FOFB):

On my way home from work, I stopped at Taco Bell for a quick bite to eat. I have a $50 bill and a $2 bill. I figure with the $2 bill, I can get something to eat and not have to worry about irritating anyone for trying to break a $50 bill.

Me: 'Hi, I'd like one seven-layer burrito please, to go.'

Server: 'That'll be $1.04. Eat in?'

Me: 'No, it's to go.' At this point, I open my billfold and hand him the $2 bill. He looks at it kind of funny.

Server: 'Uh, hang on a sec, I'll be right back.'

He goes to talk to his manager, who is still within my earshot. The following conversation occurs between the two of them:

Server: 'Hey, you ever see a $2 bill?'

Manager: 'No. A what?'

Server: 'A $2 bill. This guy just gave it to me...'

Manager: 'Ask for something else. There's no such thing as a $2 bill.'

Server: 'Yeah, thought so.'

He comes back to me and says, 'We don't take these. Do you have anything else?'

Me: 'Just this fifty. You don't take $2 bills? Why?

Server: 'I don't know.'

Me: 'See here where it says legal tender?'

Server: 'Yeah.'

Me: 'So, why won't you take it?'

Server: 'Well, hang on a sec.'

He goes back to his manager, who has been watching me like I'm a shoplifter, and says to him, 'He says I have to take it.'

Manager: 'Doesn't he have anything else?'

Server: 'Yeah, a fifty. I'll get it and you can open the safe and get change.

Manager: 'I'm not opening the safe with him in here.'

Server: 'What should I do?'

Manager: 'Tell him to come back later when he has real money.'

Server: 'I can't tell him that! You tell him.'

Manager: 'Just tell him.'

Server: 'No way! This is weird. I'm going in back.'

The manager approaches me and says, 'I'm sorry, but we don't take big bills this time of night.'

Me: 'It's only seven o'clock! Well then, here's a two dollar bill.'

Manager: 'We don't take those, either.'

Me: 'Why not?'

Manager: 'I think you know why.'

Me: 'No really, tell me why.'

Manager: 'Please leave before I call mall security.'

Me: 'Excuse me?'

Manager: 'Please leave before I call mall security.'

Me: 'What on earth for?'

Manager: 'Please, sir..'

Me: 'Uh, go ahead, call them.'

Manager: 'Would you please just leave?'

Me: 'No.'

Manager: 'Fine -- have it your way then.'

Me: 'Hey, that's Burger King, isn't it?'

At this point, he backs away from me and calls mall security on the phone around the corner. I have two people staring at me from the dining area and I begin laughing out loud, just for effect.

A few minutes later this 45-year-oldish guy comes in.

Guard: 'Yeah, Mike, what's up?'

Manager (whispering): 'This guy is trying to give me some (pause) funny money.'

Guard: 'No kidding! What?'

Manager: 'Get this. A two dollar bill.'

Guard (incredulous): 'Why would a guy fake a two dollar bill?'

Manager: 'I don't know. He's kinda weird. He says the only other thing he has is a fifty.'

Guard: 'Oh, so the fifty's fake!'

Manager: 'No, the two dollar bill is.'

Guard: 'Why would he fake a two dollar bill?'

Manager : 'I don't know! Can you talk to him, and get him out of here?'

Guard: 'Yeah.'

Security Guard walks over to me and......

Guard: 'Mike here tells me you have some fake bills you're trying to use.'

Me: 'Uh, no.'

Guard: 'Lemme see 'em.'

Me: 'Why?'

Guard: 'Do you want me to get the cops in here?'

At this point I'm ready to say, 'Sure, please!' but I want to eat, so I say, 'I'm just trying to buy a burrito and pay for it with this two dollar bill."

I put the bill up near his face, and he flinches like I'm taking a swing at him. He takes the bill, turns it over a few times in his hands, and he says, 'Hey, Mike, what's wrong with this bill?'

Manager: 'It's fake.'

Guard: 'It doesn't look fake to me.'

Manager: 'But it's a two dollar bill.'

Guard: 'Yeah? '

Manager: 'Well, there's no such thing, is there?'

The security guard and I both look at him like he's an idiot and it dawns on the guy that he has no clue and is an idiot.

So, it turns out that my burrito was free, and he threw in a small drink and some of those cinnamon thingies, too.

Made me want to get a whole stack of two dollar bills just to see what happens when I try to buy stuff.

Famous Methodist Terrorists

Saw this on FB and decided to confirm it on my own. Yep!

But this is not news, eh?

 

Interview with a Cairo rioter

I must protect my sources and means, but I have this morning conducted an interview with a Cairo resident who took part in the riot against the American embassy in Cairo last week. In fact, he was one of the relative few who actually made it over the wall into the grounds of the embassy.

My interview was with a Cairo man, 28 years old, named Muhammad Achmed Mohammed. He speaks English well but not quickly and sometimes stops and restates his point. In the transcript, I have omitted those kinds of gaps or restarts in order to enhance clarity.

ME: Hello, Muhammad, thank you for agreeing to speak with me today. I hope my readers and I will understand better what happened last week with the events at the American embassy.

Muhammad: Yes, of course. I am happy to talk with you. We need to understand one another better, I agree with you.

ME: Well, then let's start there. What would you like Americans to understand most of all?

Muhammad: It is very simple: If you insult Muhammad the prophet, peace be upon him, we will kill you.

ME: So if I said to you, in person, not on the telephone – and please understand that I am not saying this, I am merely proposing a fictional situation for discussion, nothing more – that Muhammad was a false prophet, what would your reaction be?

Muhammad: I would have to kill you.

ME: Even though I am not a Muslim?

Muhammad: There is only the consideration that because you are not a Muslim of course you do not believe that Muhammad, peace be upon him, was a prophet. Nonetheless, you would deserve to die unless you immediately repented of you sin and made shahada that,"There is no god but Allah and Muhammad is his prophet." If you did that, of course then we would be brothers and you would live.

ME: What if someone who has already made shahada said that Muhammad was not a prophet after all?

Muhammad: That is apostasy and he would have to die without hesitation. So you see, Islam is actually more forgiving of nonbelievers than Muslims.

ME: But my fictional example was purely religious in nature, whether Muhammad was or was not a prophet. What if I said something not really religious, such as – another fictional example to help us understand, please remember – "Muhammad was a murderer and pedophile child rapist?"

Muhammad: It does not matter. You cannot insult the prophet in any way and expect to live.

ME: So, no claiming that Muhammad snorted cocaine?

Muhammad: Afraid not.

ME: Kited checks?

Muhammad: No.

ME: Voted for Obama?

Muhammad: Still death, except for that insult I would torture you first.

ME: Let's get back to the embassy matter. What did you do that first night?

Muhammad: As I was leaving my workplace that later afternoon, my friend Achmed Muhammad Achmed called me on my cell phone and told me that we were going to storm the American embassy later that evening. I told him I wanted to take part.

ME: Did he say why you were storming the embassy?

Muhammad: No, it was not necessary. We had been talking with the Salafis about it for a long time. They said that September 11 would be a good date. That made sense.

ME: When you said, "we" would be going against the embassy, who do you mean by we?

Muhammad: Achmed Muhammad Achmed and two thousand of our closest friends. There were more than that in the event, but I didn't know all of them. We are aligned with the Salafis but when the riot began, the Brotherhood tried to horn in. That was rude.

ME: Did you and the other Salafis riot because of the Youtube video?

Muhammad: Huh?

ME: Did you and the other Salafis riot because of the Youtube video? The one that was said to insult Islam?

Muhammad: Let me see . . . Oh, yes, that was the reason, certainly.

ME: The White House says that the riots in Cairo and Libya and eighteen or so other Muslim nations are not protests against America or the Obama administration. Your response?

Muhammad: Oh, yes, of course, that is correct. We love America and especially we love President Hussein.

ME: Obama.

Muhammad: Gesundheit. Is that the right word?

ME: No, I mean President Obama, not President Hussein.

Muhammad: Who?

ME: Obama!

Muhammad: What?

ME: I don't know! ... Okay, reset. You mentioned your workplace and that you love America and its president. What do you do for a living?

Muhammad: I own "Achmed's Flag Emporium," where my brother and my cousin make and sell American flags that are specially designed to burn easily and brightly. Business is excellent!

ME: But you love America?

Muhammad: Of course! Selling American flags to burn is making me rich!
_______________________________________________

Update: Jump ahead to 3:07

 

Endnote: Just to make sure - please realize that this is "interview" is a work of fiction, intended as satire. I did not actually speak to anyone in Egypt.

Be happy in your work!

Mandatory good times on the job seems all the rage these days.

The cult of fun is deepening as well as widening. Google is the acknowledged champion: its offices are blessed with volleyball courts, bicycle paths, a yellow brick road, a model dinosaur, regular games of roller hockey and several professional masseuses. But now two other companies have challenged Google for the jester’s crown—Twitter, a microblogging service, and Zappos, an online shoe-shop.

Twitter’s website stresses how wacky the company is: workers wear cowboy hats and babble that: “Crazy things happen every day…it’s pretty ridiculous.” The company has a team of people whose job is to make workers happy: for example, by providing them with cold towels on a hot day. Zappos boasts that creating “fun and a little weirdness” is one of its core values. Tony Hsieh, the boss, shaves his head and spends 10% of his time studying what he calls the “science of happiness”. He once joked that Zappos was suing the Walt Disney Company for claiming that it was “the happiest place on earth”. The company engages in regular “random acts of kindness”: workers form a noisy conga line and single out one of their colleagues for praise. The praisee then has to wear a silly hat for a week.

Yes, all work and no play make Jack a dull boy! You will go to work and you will enjoy it! For some reason I am reminded of this guy:



Be happy in your work! Or else!

Could be worse

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

I never thought of myself as a horror writer, but thanks heavens I don't write like James Fennimore Cooper.

How the stock market works

Once upon a time in a jungle village, a man appeared and announced to the villagers that he would buy monkeys for $10 each.

The villagers seeing that there were many monkeys around, went out to the forest, and started catching them.

The man bought thousands at $10 and as supply started to diminish, the villagers stopped their effort. He further announced that he would now buy at $20. This renewed the efforts of the villagers and they started catching monkeys again.

Soon the supply diminished even further and people started going back to their farms. The offer increased to $25 each and the supply of monkeys became so little that it was an effort to even see a monkey, let alone catch it!

The man now announced that he would buy monkeys at $50 ! However, since he had to go to the city on some business, his assistant would now buy on behalf of him. In the absence of the man, the assistant told the villagers. 'Look at all these monkeys in the big cage that the man has collected. I will sell them to you at $35 and when the man returns from the city, you can sell them to him for $50 each.'

The villagers rounded up with all their savings and bought all the monkeys. Then they never saw the man nor his assistant again, only monkeys everywhere!

Now you have a better understanding of how the stock market works.

From the Braden Files.

Jesus died for your mortgage

The most successful satire strikes so close to believability that the reader/listener/viewer can't actually know it is satire unless told so.

According to Billings, the average unchurched person in suburban Chicago isn’t interested in religiosity. They want, he suggests, a “deep spirituality that fits into their busy schedule.” Instead of making Jesus challenging or complex, Billings offered a Jesus that “gives people exactly what they want.” ...

Pastor Billings credits last Easter’s mailer for the increase in weekly attendance–which is up to 4000. One new member, George Eliason praises the approach: “Look, I really love what Jesus offers. But most churches make it inconvenient to be a Christian. Journey does a great job conforming Christianity to me, rather than asking me to conform to some abstract “rules” spouted off 2000 years ago in the Middle East.”

It's satire, and so noted at the very end. But sadly, it is believable.