The Old Name Game …

imagesThe Indian Chief stood in front of the judge and the judge said to him, “You are here to change your name?” and the Indian nodded his head in agreement. 

The judge then asked him, “What is your name?” and the Chief replied, “Big Chief screeching train whistle.”

The judge pondered this for a moment or two and said, “What do you want to change it to?”

The indian looked up and sighed … “Toots.”

A great many things in life I do not understand.  Like this “multiple name thing” that women have adopted.  Here is an example:  Hillary Rodham Clinton” why do they take these multiple misnomers.  There are actually women on FaceBook who have four separate names.

What is it that compels these ladies to do that?

If Laura, Kate and Sarah go out for lunch, they will call each other Laura, Kate and Sarah. If Mike, Dave and John go out, they will affectionately refer to each other as Fat Boy, Bubba and Wild-man.

When the bill arrives, Mike, Dave and John will each throw in $20, even though it’s only for $32.50. None of them will have anything smaller and none will actually admit they want change back.

When the girls get their bill, out come the pocket calculators. 

Like I said, “there are times when I just do not get it.”

Now for a good morning chuckle.  With alcohol-related injuries on the rise in Australia, the owners of some bars are installing rubber sidewalks outside their establishments.

The new sidewalks, made of recycled tires, cut down on the head trauma and bruises suffered when people pass out, trip, and fall, or hit the ground during a bar fight.  So much for responsible drinking eh? 

I just can hear it now, the wife standing in the kitchen at 2:30 a.m. demanding to know … “Where did you get all those skid marks?

The other day I intently sat here completely mesmerized and watched a bridge moved on an episode of “We Are Going To Move This Incredibly, Huge, Holy Crap, look at the size of that Godzilla Sized Stuff” on the Discovery Channel. 

And it occurred to me: 

If we are capable of moving a 5 million pound bridge, on several barges with tugboats, upstream 16 miles, to two pre-cast already constructed concrete pillars and then placing that bridge on the site and everything fits.  Then why can’t we build a car that gets more than 50 mpg?” 

This was indeed done back east recently, it did happen.

Earlier in the week I got this email from a person and it said, “This sounds like the kind of joke you would tell.  The email went on to explain the joke to me, which I will spare all of you the misery and will NOT pass it on. 

The thing that bugs me about the situation, this was an off-color joke, and you can ask anyone who knows me, I don’t tell off color jokes.    

I guess what is buggin’ me is this.  What type of image is it that I project to folks that would make them think I enjoy garbage like that? 

Well, having said that, I will move on.  It is not often easy being me.  But I cannot be anyone else, you see, “everyone else has been taken, I have to be me.”