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April 25, 2011

All things must pass...

In 2006, I went to howmanyofme.com and it said there were 15,899 people named Richard Jones in the U.S.A. ... Today's count:

HowManyOfMe.com
LogoThere are
13,451
people with the name Richard Jones in the U.S.A.

How many have your name?

At this rate, even if I'm the last Richard Jones on earth, I only have about seven years until extinction ...

November 30, 2009

What it was was ballet

Cousin Skeeter had to come to the city because he had an appointment with the tax man in the revenue building downtown, so he asked me to ride along with him. Since his meeting was at eight o'clock in the morning, Skeeter wanted to drive down there the night before and he got us a room in one of them fancy hotels they have down there, one of them fancy high-rises where you can see seven counties out your window.

Well, when we was checking in, there was a real nice young lady behind the counter there, and she asked us what we was going to do while we were in the city. Well, we said, we was just going to check into our room and maybe watch some of that free cable TV, or maybe go down to the river and do a little fishing.

Well, she says to us, you gentlemen must go to Swan Lake.

That was music to our ears, it was, because we just thought we'd maybe drop our poles in the river down there, not really knowing if there was any fish worth catching in there or not. We never figured they'd have a lake in the city like that.

I have two tickets to Swan Lake right here, she said. You gentlemen can go as guests of the hotel.

Well, we was right tickled silly about that. With us needing tickets to get in, we figured it might be one of them stock lakes where they have all kinds of big catfish and bass and bluegill in them.

So Cousin Skeeter says to her, Do we need to bring our own bait? And that girl just laughed and laughed and said for us not to worry about it, that we was guests of the hotel and they even gave us some tickets so we could get ourselves a soda pop and everything.

So she give us our tickets and said that the Swan Lake was in the Metropolitan Center that was just a few blocks from the hotel and that we could walk from there.

So we walked over where she told us, looking for a park or something called the Metropolitan Center and we were plumb surprised to see that it wasn't only a pay lake, but it was inside this great big old building. Cousin Skeeter thought that was plain odd, he did, but I said We're in the city, now, Skeeter and just about anything can happen.

So we went inside, but it weren't a pay lake at all, but a big old theater, and I said to Skeeter, Well, maybe this is some kind of motion picture show called Swan Lake, not a fishing trip at all, but since we was there and the nice lady gave us complimentary tickets and all, well, it was just the polite thing to do, and we could still dip our poles in the river after if we was still in the mood for some fishing.

So this other real nice older lady shows us where to go and sit, and my goodness but it was the biggest theater I do believe I've ever seen and it was full of people all dressed up real nice. We felt a little out of place in our overalls, but everybody was so nice to us that after a while we never paid it anymore nevermind.

Then the lights went out like they'd blowed a fuse or something, but luckily somebody up in the back had this big old flashlight that he shined down on a big old hole in the ground in front of the stage and the people get all nice and quiet like. Then this feller comes up out of the hole in the ground and everybody starts a clapping. Skeeter says, What they heck they clapping for? Ain't nobody done nothing yet. I said, Well, maybe he's just a real popular fella around these parts.

Well. then this fella turns his back to us and starts waving his arms in the air and it turns out there was a band down there in the hole with him, there was, and it was a whole bunch of fiddles and bass fiddles with nary a mandolin nor a banjo neither one. No guitars neither, but it sounded like they had some harmonicas, just fiddles and harmonicas and this popular fella was waving his arms to help them know when it was their turn to play.

It was kind of odd, it was, but the music was real pretty, and then the curtains opened up on the stage and the stage was full of all these girls in long dresses. They was pretty girls, but they was awful skinny and Skeeter says, Well, it looks like they could use some gravy on their biscuits. They look about starved to death, they did, so we figured maybe they was just mighty poor, but they was happy, and they were dancing around the stage on their tippy-toes, twirling around in their skirts and jumping up and down in the air wiggling their toes. And they all took turns, some of them dancing by themselves and some of them doing the dotsy-do with two or three other girls, and this went on for a while and then all of a sudden a bunch of fellas come out on the stage to dance with them.

To tell you the truth, I don't rightly know what to say about these fellas in mixed company, 'cause they was wearing the most gawd-awfullest suits you ever seen, they was. They had on these short jackets that was all shiny and glittery, and that was okay, I guess, but Lord Have Mercy, it looked like they didn't have no britches on because they was so tight, and they was tight all the way up, and I'm telling you that none of them boys had any secrets at all, no sir. Their britches was so tight you could see everything they had, you could. Their britches was so tight that you could count their parts, you could, and Skeeter says, How can they jump around on stage like that with their britches riding up like that? They had no shame at all. They just started dancing with those skinny girls in their long skirts, throwing them up in the air and catching them, and jumping up and down wiggling their toes and all. And they all took turns then, dancing by themselves and showing off for the girls, then two of them dancing together, and that went on for a while.

Then this one fella comes out with the shiniest jacket and the tightest britches of all of them, and he starts jumping around the stage, just leaping around like he was a deer or something, he was, and you could tell that he was  a prince or something. Then he danced with some of the girls and danced with some of the other fellas and that went on for a while, then he danced by hisself again and I guess he worked up a mighty thirst with all that dancing and they gave him this big gold cup to drink out of.

I'm guessing it wasn't no soda pop in that cup because all of a sudden this lady comes out on stage and I'm guessing that it was his mama and that he had some moonshine or hard cider in that gold cup because when she came on stage, he tried to hide it behind his back. But that wasn't fooling her. Mind they wasn't doing no talking, but they was using some kind of sign language to talk, but I couldn't make heads nor tails of it all at first, but they was pointing at their fingers and she gave  him a bow and arrow, and I figured out that she wanted two things. One, she wanted him to stop dancing around with all these skinny girls and get hisself married. And two, he needed to take his tight britches out there in the woods and kill something for supper.

So next thing you know, the stage is full of all these skinny girls wearing these white skirts that was so short that they just stuck straight out all around them like they was riding in a doughnut or something. And their hair was all done up in white feathers. They all danced around on their tippy-toes again for a while, then they took turns dancing by themselves and in twos, threes and fours, and this goes on for a while, then Skeeter elbows me in the side and says, They must be the swans. I thought that made a lot of sense, but it turns out that the prince fella comes along with his bow and arrow and chases all the skinny swan girls around the stage until he catches one, but he don't kill her, no sir. He starts dancing with her and throwing her up in the air and catching her and all. I said, Skeeter, she can't be a swan because it looks to me like he's falling in love with her.

Skeeter says, Well, we're in the city now. Maybe it's ok for a fella to fall in love with a bird.

Well, it turns out to be a really sad story, and I don't think I'd be giving too much away to tell you that they both died in the end, but when we got back to the hotel, the pretty girl at the counter asked us how we liked Swan Lake, and we was polite and told her we liked it just fine, so she give us tickets for another show the next day, except this wasn't dancing but the opry.

But it wasn't the Grand Ol' Opry, I can tell you that, and I can't even begin to tell you what happened at that show.

I will tell you this, though, that when it comes down it, if I had to choose between one or t'other, I guess I'd rather sit still for skinny girls dancing than fat girls hollering.
 

October 05, 2008

50 Years of Mystery

I spent my 50th birthday on the trail at Vesuvius, somewhere in SE Ohio ....

But on the day I was born, this was breaking news:

New 'Sasquatch' found

At a road construction site in Bluff Creek, California, Gerald Crew finds big tracks in August and then again on October 1 and 2, 1958. He is told by his fellow workers, some of whom are Hoopa Indians, the maker is a hairy forest giant. Crew, using plaster of Paris, thanks to instructions from taxidermist Bob Titmus, makes a replica of the large print at the site on October 3, 1958.

The publication of that photograph of Crew holding an enormous foot-shaped plaster cast becomes a turning point in the pursuit of hairy wild hominoids in North America, and soon the world. Everybody wants to see whatever was making such imprints, and the public becomes interested in learning more about “Bigfoot.”

Thanks to: Cryptomundo

 

And this:

Lost genius found in homeless camp

Elmer Clarence "Mox" Meukel told his story to a couple of hobos in a shack on Scott Island in the Truckee River near Reno.

Most people wrote him off as a crackpot dreamer. After all, he was a sometime songwriter and self-taught inventor, but these men listened to his story.

Mox said he and some co-workers at Bendix Corp. had been designing a motion detector that would sound an alarm when a child got near a swimming pool.

On Feb. 1, 1958, the day he was laid off at Bendix, two military planes collided over Norwalk, killing 48 people. Mox said he realized that his motion detector could be turned into a device that would prevent such midair crashes.

Without a job, he began working on the device in the garage of the home at 7716 Bonner Ave., Sun Valley, that he shared with his wife, Jean, and three children. 

Found at L.A. Times

I sense a pattern developing here.

September 19, 2008

Beyond Half-Empty/Half-Full

Click on image for larger view

To order the t-shirt: despair.com

Not a paid ad... meaning they should give me a free t-shirt for this post... 

August 28, 2008

My Dick Cheney Implant

 
You can see it, can't you? I'm not just imagining it.
 
If you could feel it, and you're welcome to anytime if you want, it would feel like a frozen pea attached to my spine just under the skin.
 
It started out bigger. When it was first discovered, it felt like a frozen grape attached to my spine just under my skin. Or so I've been told. The truth is that it's been strategerically* placed in a spot where I can't reach it no matter how I contort myself. At least Dick Cheney was clever enough to know that I would surely remove it if I could reach it, even though his attempts and mind manipulation have failed miserably.
I'm onto you, Dick Cheney. You can't control my mind, you Czar of Darkness.
 
At first I thought it was an Alien Implant. For all I know it could be an Alien Implant. It may very well be that Dick Cheney is in league not only with the Forces of Evil in the United States of America and the rest of the Planet Earth, but he could be in League with the Forces of Evil of the Entire Universe. Or it may be that it's really an Alien Implant pretending to be a Dick Cheney Implant, but that doesn't ring true to me. I have no evidence, but I figure that if it's an Alien Implant, then it would be of an Intelligence far greater than that on the Planet Earth and would therefore know that to assume the voice of a Dick Cheney Implant would be counter-productive.
 

I mean, anyone who knows me would know that the first time the Dick Cheney Implant told me to run a redlight for the sanctity of the Republic or to tell the cashier how much I enjoyed her cleavage because it would be good for the economy, that I would tell the Dick Cheney Implant to Kiss My Progressive Ass. I'm not unfamiliar with voices in my head, and I can separate the real ones from the imaginary ones. So anything the Dick Cheney Implant tells me to do, I do the opposite. An Alien with an Intelligence far greater than our own would know that and would present itself to me as a, say, Salma Hayek Implant, or a Jodie Foster Implant. Or even a Teri Hatcher implant because, you know, I'm easy that way. Or it could have said that it was a Jack Bauer Implant and then I sure as hell would have done everything it said because Jack Bauer is a bad-ass and I don't want to be at the wrong end of his prodigious head-butt. Or spine-butt as the case may be.

 
I digress. It's hard to concentrate with Dick Cheney yelling into your spine, and he's really pissed that I'm going public with this. In fact, this is my third attempt to blog this because "somehow" my Internet Tubes are being clogged with dangerous materials like yellowcake uranium and germanchocolatecake plutonium and belgiumwaffle indigium, so every once in a while I have to turn my computer upside down and shake it really hard, and sometimes the words I've written get all jumbled up and I have to start over.
I'm not unfamiliar with voices in my head, and I can separate the real ones from the imaginary ones.

So even with Dick Cheney riding shotgun, I'm not dangerous, just ineffective.

But I digress. I was saying that I know it really is a Bona Fide Dick Cheney Implant is because only Dick Cheney would have the ego to want to take the credit for being clever enough to get an implant on my spine without my knowing it. That's Dick Cheney for you.
 
But you don't have to worry about me. He's tried the reverse psychology thing. He tried to get me to stand up in the middle of the Tuesday staff meeting and try and get everyone to sing along with "You Are My Sunshine" by telling me NOT to do it. So in that case, I did exactly what he said. So now everytime the Dick Cheney implant tells me to do something, I think to myself "What Would Walt Whitman Do?" and so I usually get too confused to do anything at all. So even with Dick Cheney riding shotgun, I'm not dangerous, just ineffective. And I was ineffective in just about everything I do before the Dick Cheney Implant, so nothing's really different except for the constant nagging and occasional screaming. I don't mind that so much, but when he turns on the Civil Defense Sirens, I get a headache and have to lay down for a while. And I did that a lot before the Dick Cheney Implant, too.
 

But I'm not here to complain, but just to share my story in case someone else out there has an implant that tries to manipulate his or her thought processes, for whom I offer this advice: "Ignore the Voices in Your Head." Chances are, they're up to no good. And if you do have an implant, please e-mail me at dickcheneyimplant@richardojones.com. I'd love to hear your story.

 

But if you have voices yelling at you but no implant, you're just crazy and should leave me the hell alone.

 

 

* Irony.

 
 

July 16, 2008

Priorities

February 28, 2007

Pixel this in....

Just for the record:

I've been using the phrase "I've got you pixelled in" instead of "I've got you pencilled in" for over a year now when I confirm that I've put something on my calendar. Feel free to use it yourself, but when everyone starts using the phrase, when it becomes part of our digital-age idiom, just know that I wrote the phrase. 

January 05, 2007

Dear Abby: Blackmailed by Sister-in-Law

This guy is screwed. I mean, not because of the sister-in-law thing, but... read the last paragraph....

DEAR ABBY: A few years ago, I had an affair with a woman. I'll call her "Desiree." As luck would have it, a few years later, Desiree became my sister-in-law.
 
My wife has always been jealous of her "more attractive" sister. She reminds me of that fact every time we visit. Now Desiree is having money problems, and she's threatening to tell my wife about our "history" if I don't accommodate her needs.
 
My marriage already is on thin ice because I ran over my wife's dog and forgot our anniversary in the same week. What should I do?
— Blackmailed in Burbank
 
DEAR BLACKMAILED: If you knuckle under to your sister-in-law's threats, her money problems will be over and you will be paying her off for the duration of your marriage. Be smart. Nip this in the bud by telling your wife everything. It isn't your fault that you met her sister first. You should thank your lucky stars that you wound up marrying the right one.
 
The answer here reminds me so much of the John Prine song:
 
Dear Blackmailed, Dear Blackmailed
You have no complaint
You are what you are and you ain't what you ain't
So listen up buster and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood.
Signed, Dear Abby. 

December 24, 2006

Drawings for Santa

Just cleaning up from my Santa gig and thought I'd share some of the favorite drawings given to me on the throne*.

I like this one because it seems to be a cut-away view of a chimney with Santa in it. Kinda dark, kinda scientific.

 

 

What is that up in the sky? Looks like a fire-breathing penis to me: 

 

 

This one has blue snowflakes, yellow and black snowmen with flowers on their hats. I think. What's the secret coded message under Gracie's name? 

 

 

*I know it's just dress-up, but I like the idea of being on a throne. 

December 20, 2006

Just one of the masses


HowManyOfMe.com
Logo
There are:
15,899
people with the name Richard Jones in the U.S.A.
How many have your name?

But there are 49,000 John Smiths.

Here are some additional factoids about my name:

  • There are 2,560,232 people in the U.S. with the first name Richard.
  • Statistically the 8th most popular first name.
  • 99.77 percent of people with the first name Richard are male.
  • There are 1,862,805 people in the U.S. with the last name Jones.
  • Statistically the 4th most popular last name. (tied with 2 other last names)

 

December 15, 2006

Hu's In China

A brilliant variation on the "Who's on First" routine with a contemporary flair and political edge:

December 07, 2006

Poop Freeze?

Can anyone explain this to me?

It's $12.99 a can at Amazon.com. No shit (so to speak).

December 06, 2006

I look like Alan Alda


No, Wait. I look like Beyonce.



Now I look like Pedro.


Clown Car

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

I don't know anything about The Duggar Family, but I thought this was pretty funny.

December 04, 2006

Dead Fish


 

Isn't an X the international comic symbol for a dead character? 

November 29, 2006

Apparently in Texas....

... it's illegal to buy a dildo, but okay to buy a butt plug. Apparently, in Texas you can stick anything up your butt as long as it is neither a penis nor looks like one, but you can't put anything up your vagina except a penis. Check out this video, starring Molly Ivins. It's a little long, but very interesting and stick around for Molly's last words.....

October 20, 2006

Ritual into Spiritual

I dug up this column from Oct. 25, 2002 to show a friend, so thought I'd go ahead and post it here.

Sometimes it seems that we’re doing little more than running in place - always on the move, always involved, but apparently accomplishing little, waiting for something to happen.

Continue reading "Ritual into Spiritual" »

October 19, 2006

Our Leader is a Genius

October 16, 2006

Fried Coke? What's next?

This just in:

CHICAGO (AFP) - Fried Coke has become the latest artery-clogging hit at US state fairs, local media reports.

I guess Americans will eat anything as long as it's deep fried.

Continue reading "Fried Coke? What's next?" »

August 16, 2006

Marquees-R-Us

Make your own sign at http://www.ronaldmchummer.com/index.php