I have an old “Fun with Tom and Betty” primer, it is not as valuable or popular as Dick and Jane. I can kind of see why, at least in the Dick and Jane books, you didn’t have to see a picture of your dad getting robbed on the street by a guy who claims he has a gun in his pocket, and his friend is in on it too.
Fans of novelty music have all heard “The Bricklayer’s Song”, I have always thought of it as mere clever lyrics, so imagine my surprise when I found it almost verbatim, presented in a 1957 issue of the esteemed Everett, Washington Herald newspaper, and attributed to the Manchester, England Guardian newspaper.
I think this is an urban legend that predated even this old article. Supposedly this was from a bricklayer in Barbados to his contracting firm- but was unsigned. Who writes a letter requesting sick leave? By the time it gets there, you would already be fired. Especially since he didn’t sign it!
I am not a pharmacist, but I think 3 grains is a lot. Then again, people didn’t usually visit the drugstore for a mere headache 100+ years ago, unless it was caused by a bullet crease or an axeident. (What they called an ax accident)
Whenever I encounter a problem, I apply Hoarder’s Razor. This principle states that among competing hypotheses, the one with the most disgusting assumptions should be selected or when you have two competing theories that make exactly the same predictions, the nastiest one is the better.
Case in point; there was cat hair and/or some other gunk that I couldn’t see, in the recess on the underside of my wireless mouse, where the movement detection laser is. I crammed a damp kleenex up in there and pushed it around a bit, now the mouse performs as new.
I am sort of disappointed that this nice tie with pictures of Walmart Semi Trucks on it went for the minimum bid on Listia. Everyone is too serious these days.
I was scanning in a bunch of my aunt Jean’s old photos, that’s her in the road, but who is the guy standing several feet behind her? Is he holding… a scythe? I zoomed in and it’s either a scythe, or a paper of some sort. Maybe he is a process server?
Either way… RUN, AUNT JEAN, RUN!!
This was my dad’s ashtray that was next to his recliner, usually for cigar ashes. I remember when I was a kid, right around the time of the moon landing,
I got an Estes model rocket catalog in the mail. So I made a pitch to invest in some of these highly educational and inexpensive rockets. Dad took the catalog and looked at it for a few minutes, handed it back to me. He took a long pull on his cigar, looked at me and said the words I dreaded; “We’ll see.”
It is no wonder that I am not working for Raytheon or Rockwell as a highly skilled propulsion systems engineer.
We were dropping off stuff at the Goodwill the other day, so of course we had to drive around front, go in and buy more crap. On a whim, I vowed to find and purchase the weirdest item they had.
Mission accomplished! A lamp with a western desert cactus shade, but a base reminiscent of a pineapple, I think. I texted some people and they said “That’s cool!” and “What a find!” – I am sure they were just humoring me. It’s hollow for hiding whatever drug I was on when I bought it. Then again, it had a pink tag and thus marked down to $2.00 – The lamp not the drugs.
I had Christmas week off but have to go back to work tonight. What a drag! I didn’t even care about Santa arriving on a huge chicken, God knows we can use the eggs. (From our trip to Sequim a few days ago)