Lover’s Day

20090204_045645_valentine2_pinupRecently I noted that someone who writes a daily “grammar blog” has come on board for a following/subscription to this blog.  This of course worries me, I am a grammar blog writer’s ultimate nightmare.  I used to have a university professor that followed me, drove her nuts.  She nailed me all the time on apostrophe’s, said I put them in the wrong place and was constantly pointing this out.  Last I heard, she had gave up and was working a rig in the Balkan Field in North Dakota as a tool pusher.

Let’s talk of Lover’s Day, that magical time of the year, that is quickly approaching.  

Soon the media will be full of nothing but happy, sappy, posts about this illegitimate holiday. Time is running out for a lot of guys, Valentine’s Day, that illegal estrogen enriched time of the year sponsored by all the chocolate manufactures and of course, jewelry shops nationwide is now clearly visible on the romantic horizon.  A banner day for Hallmark Cards I suppose … and the immediate downfall for the poor sucker who forgets.

Some of these holiday’s are suspect anyway.  Did you know that last Friday was “National Wear Red Day?” Well, it was, “If I am lying, I am dying” as my buddy Billy Raye Littler used to say.  This month, b’sides Valentine’s Day we also have President’s Day (the 18th) we ought to buy him and the family a one-way ticket to Borneo and give him a carton of Marlboro’s.

But I digress … sorry.

My marriage firmly locked down in the layered bedrock of the planet, established way back years ago, when the earth was still warm, does not require a yearly injection of false admiration and adoration, so I assume I am free.  I should be able to slide under the radar, much to the chagrin of some of you other suckers who will not.  All I have to do is remember to pick up the seat and I am okay for a month or two on the by-ways of matrimony.

Not a big fan of the holiday, as you can see.

My feelings about Valentine’s Day are mixed.  I remember as a small lad, we were required to give Valentine’s cards to all our young classmates in school.  The teacher would give us a list of each child in the class, and we were to dutifully fill out a little sentiment and then pass them around on the appointed day.  This gesture was to be seen as goodwill and friendship, but in reality, quite cruel to the kids who were an exception to the rule, and received no cards whatsoever.

I never cared for it.

Most of the time, the man is going to “get something for himself” and then pimp it off as a gift for her.  Box of chocolates, something racy and sweet, from Fredrick’s of Hollywood (for himself).  Now when you are secure in your relationship, you do not have to spring for these things.

One of the readily apparent benefits of a libido in retreat and being older, is the fact that at our age a trip to the Catfish Cabin, some shrimp, a short well timed visit to the Salad Bar and later, some bread pudding and you are set.

I would even venture that both would cost about the same in the end.

In my younger days, being the sleeze-ball that I am, I would have opted for this new thing on the market … The C-string.  Have you seen one?  Here is a photo sampling for your perusal and a live demonstration.  This would not be suitable for showing at work, so check the room first.


As you can see, this clearly leaves little to the imagination and is a testament to the female form.


Here is a working example of a C-string on some lovely, I would assume it is Mexican Television, it sure would not be aired here in the U.S.A. even Fox would not touch that (pardon the pun).

Clearly this is not a gift for the older audience but for the younger set.  Most of us who read this site, would be just as happy with a new toaster over.  I don’t know where the chocolate would fit in, but then again, it is the thought that counts.  Best get busy and do some shoppin boys, time is running short.

Please remember, “do not go overboard.”


Possibly Related:  Here is a lighter look at the subject of love, Timber Wear from a few years back.

Don’t You Touch That

“And I always thought it was strange when our kids, wanting a glass of water before going to sleep, would ask for “Kitchen water Dad, I don’t want any bathroom water, okay?” 

Need a loan:  I am watching CMT (Country Music Television) and a group of Indians are offering loans to the public.  They are saying they will put $10,000 in your account by tomorrow.  Freezing the screen and reading the “fine print” the interest on this loan is 80.68% … Man, what a deal.

Then I went over to the WallStreet Journal read some of that, the bus boards, checked my lottery tickets, my email … Not a winner in the entire lot.  80.68% wonder how they get away with that?  Looks like the sins of the white man are catching up with him good now.

Trash of man:  In 1938 a young man accidentally dropped his highs school ring into a toilet at a local butcher shop in Dunsmuir, Calif.  Seventy-three years later, a sewer maintenance worker and fellow alumnus of Dunsmuir High found the ring in a bucket of sewer debris.

He had the ring cleaned, saw the initials engraved on it and tracked down the owner with the help of an old high school yearbook.  The owner said that finding the ring after all these years was a real booster for him, it made him feel like he was a lot younger.

I lost mine in the soap tray in the head of my ship in 1968 when some bozo copped it, doubt if I will ever see it again.

Hands Off In SC:  The ALCU is suing a south Carolina jail because they will not allow access to pornography to inmates.  The attorney figures that they (the inmates) were already given access to Bibles and other religious themed reading materials, so it is only natural they should be allowed books replete with female who-has and other illustrated goodies to read.  Of course the jailers are against it, it leads to other things … the old … Y’know, if you do that you are going to go blind thing.

You are what you eat:  They say that during your lifetime you will eat at least six spiders in your sleep.  They crawl into your mouth while you are asleep, and the natural reflex is to chew.  (Now you can go Ewwwwwwwwwwwwweeeeew)

Well Doctors in Taiwan have removed ants from the ears of a teenager.  It seems she was fond of eating cookies in bed.  While she was doing this, she would pick at her ears while eating the snacks and later go to sleep without brushing away the crumbs.

While she slept, hungry ants would then follow the smell of food into her ear canals where they would stay, “because there was plenty of food there” and it was warm and I suppose the rent was cheap.  (Again …. Ewwwwwwwwwwwwweeeeew)

And I always thought it was strange when our kids, wanting a glass of water before going to sleep, would ask for “Kitchen water Dad, I don’t want any bathroom water, okay?”

Stick ‘em up:  Violent crime in this country is now on the downswing.  Crime in the U.S. has dropped to its lowest level in nearly 40 years.  This of course, defies several long-held theories on the underlying factors for crime.  Despite high unemployment rates and fewer people held in jails, robberies fell by 9.5% last year, and violent crimes dropped by 5.5 percent.

It is no small wonder.  “No one has any spare money anymore to begin with.  No percentage in robbing the unemployed in this country.  And they (the robbers) are all staying at home because of the price of high priced gasoline.  The only people robbing us now are the politicians and the oil companies.”

PSA:  Stop with the negative political emails, it makes absolutely no difference and all you are doing is buggin’ people.  I am asking you nicely.  Continued refusal to behave in a manner that pleases me will result in my unhappiness. This warning applies to people I love, people I have worked with, friends, relatives, strangers who wander through my personal narrative, and folks in faraway lands whose thoughtless actions cause me to become upset when I read the newspaper in the morning.

As of this notice, all behavior will now be required to pass a in-house evaluation of an undocumented nature (“How will this affect Don test?”). Failure to do so will result in me having a bad day. And nobody wants that, right? Thank you for your consideration. You may now return to your regular activities.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot … “Pass this on to everyone in your address book.”  (Don’t you just love Election Years … The Silly Season In America)

It’s A Dogs Life


Male Enhancement

I am strolling thru the Mall, a slow day, mostly elderly people walking to stay fit are in attendance.  Kind of strange, they make lap after lap around the place and then at the conclusion of the exercise period they all gather in front of Chicken Fillet take a table and eat.

A funny bunch, this geriatric posse of exercise lap-taking aficionados’.

I am walking along, peering into the windows of the stores, and I find nothing all that exciting to tell you the truth, it is no small wonder that sales are off.  It is no small wonder that Mall’s much like the dinosaur are on the way out.

Then I spot her.

She is young, she is vibrant, she is drop-dead gorgeous.  My mind races and I try and think back to a time when I have experienced a woman such as this, and I am at a definite loss.  She is so beautiful that it secretly makes me wish that I could borrow the money from Secretary of State, Hillary Rodham Clinton, just so that I could establish my own foreign country.  There I would publish this girl’s likeness on the official postage stamp of our new country, so that I could lick the back of her head each day.


She is working in an ear ring store, so I stop to chat and browse the different piercings she has for sale.  I am thinking to myself, “I have always wanted an ear ring.  Knowing full well that I am of course, not going to get one.”  She bends over several times in the course of events, showing me the wares of her store, among other things.  We strike up a conversation, we laugh, we smile, things are going well.  Her perfume fills my senses; I am almost paralyzed by her scent.

I am also acutely aware of this old familiar feeling coming over me, silently thinking to myself, “this is nuts, I should be on leash or a chain, staked out in some backyard somewhere.”  It is not easy being a randy old dawg such as I am.

Perhaps it is the smell of her perfume, the light touch of her hand on my skin, it could be the elevator musak softly playing in the background.

don-smithFirst thing I know, I am sitting in the chair and I am getting my ear pierced and I have an ear ring!  Call me the helpless romantic, the middle-aged fool, whatever, but I walk out of the place sporting a brand new diamond stud in my left lobe.  I am also considerably “lighter in the wallet” because of it.

It is important that we now interject into all this that the ownership of an ear ring is not a new thing with me.  Having what most men consider a “progressive marriage” it was talked about, never granted, but it did come up from time to time over the years.  I must emphasize that this is not a spur of the moment encounter; it has been a secret goal of mine for years.

And it has been from time to time, discussed.  Men have this right, it is on page #54 of Dr. Phils’ Marriage Enrichment Series with footnotes inserted by Robin.  I also believe there was an episode of it on The View where it was discussed briefly in eighty-nine.

Now the wife has told me previous to this, “If you get an ear ring, I am NOT going anywhere with you. To the store, the movies, WalMart … Nowhere are we to be seen together if you get an ear ring.”

Then as she always does, she prefaced it with … “You understand?”

And I am thinking, “I roll it over and over in my mind, might be a little pain involved, but all in all, it sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”  It might be worth it, I could come out on top of this thing, if I play my cards right, this could be a winning hand.

So I am “all in” as they say in The World Series of Poker … I am not waiting for the River Card, it is now or never.

Today I do the deed! This also my toxic day of reckoning.  Today I will have to face the music.  My bride is not going to understand this at all.

She is standing at the sink doing dishes, softly humming to herself and I walk in to the kitchen to get me a cup of coffee.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see her peer at me and then she says, “What is that in your ear?” to which I reply, “What?” and then she again says, not to be deterred.

“What is THAT in your ear?”  This time pointing to the offending object and wiggling her finger in order to emphasis.

So I reply, “it’s an ear ring.”

“Lord, what have you went out and done now you old fool?”

Nothing like a little kindness and understanding, with your cup of lukewarm half-day old Coffee.

“What in the world possessed you to do this; why in the world did you get your ear pierced?”

“Cause I wanted to, that’s why, b’sides lots of bikers have ear rings.”  She smiles and says “Yeah, and they have something that you do not have.”  So I inquire of her what that might be, because you see, the monkey never learns, the monkey always goes back for more.

She opens up the cabinet door, places the clean plate in there with the rest, and looks at me and says … “Motorcycles, bikers have ear rings, beards, snot rag hats and MOTORCYCLES!  You gonna buy a motorcycle?”

“Maybe.” I meekly mumble, and then I grab my cup of Joe out of the Microwave and head for the TV room.  Funny how things work out, people who do not learn from their mistakes are prone to repeat them, that is the way I had it presented to me if I am remembering it right.  I sip on the coffee, it is warm, it nourishes my tired old soul and I think about it all … Silently I am thinking to myself, “A Harley Sportster, big tractor seat, a ONE SEATER that would be nice.”

The last time something like this occurred in my life was about the same, back in the seventies, except it was Sears, a well endowed brunette, deep green eyes a guy could lose himself in,  and it was a totally new vacuum cleaner …  but that was just one hundred-eighty-five dollars and some change.

Now this?  Man-Man, a new Harley Sportster, this could get really expensive.

The monkey never learns.


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