Paraprosdokian

Here is the definition of Paraprosdokian: "Figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected; frequently used in a humorous situation."

"Where there's a will, I want to be in it," is a type of paraprosdokian.

Ok, so now enjoy. - - - - - - - - - - - -

1. Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

2. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on my list.

3. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

4. If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong.

5. We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.

6. War does not determine who is right - only who is left.

7. Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

8. Evening news is where they begin with 'Good Evening,' and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.

9. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

10. A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.

11. I thought I wanted a career. Turns out I just wanted paychecks.

12. Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says, 'In case of emergency, notify:' I put 'DOCTOR.'

13. I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.

14. Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.

15. Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.

16. A clear conscience is the sign of a fuzzy memory.

17. I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

18. You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.

19. Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.

20. There's a fine line between cuddling and holding someone down so they can't get away.

21. I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not so sure.

22. You're never too old to learn something stupid.

23. To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.

24. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

25. Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

26. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.

27. A diplomat is someone who tells you to go to hell in such a way that you look forward to the trip.

28. Hospitality is making your guests feel at home even when you wish they were.

29. I always take life with a grain of salt. Plus a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila.

30. When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

Final Words of Wisdom:
"The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese."

Write on,

Mittster

Our Dollars at Work

"House Minority Leader Lawrence F. Cafero Jr. pictured standing, far right, speaks while colleagues Rep. Barbara Lambert, and Rep. Jack F. Hennessy, , play solitaire Monday night as the House convened to vote on a new budget. (AP)

The guy sitting in the row in front of these two....he's on Facebook, and the guy behind Hennessy is checking out the baseball scores.

These are the folks that couldn't get the budget out by Oct. 1, and are about to control your health care, cap and trade, and the list goes on and on..
Should we buy them larger screen computers - or - a ticket home, permanently?

This is one of their 3-DAY WORK WEEKS that we all pay for (salary is about $179,000 per year)."

What part about yesterday's blog didn't you understand?

I'm just saying,

Mittster

My Two Cents

We all have opinions. The problem is that unless two or more people have the same opinion, the single opinion isn’t worth squat. The end result is that most opinions are worthless and alone in the dark. I propose we abandon opinions in favor of options. Here is a list of options I propose in lieu of single opinions from opinionated people who are always in the dark.

Option one: All politicians are to be given trials, found guilty of high treason against the American people and rode out of town on a rail after being tarred and feathered. Synthetic tar and feathers are acceptable.

Option two: Media moguls are also to be given trials, found guilty of high treason against the American people and forced to sit for eight hours a day and read the biased crap they print. Afterward, they too are to be tarred and feathered and rode out of town on a rail.

Option three: All reporters are to be given trials, found guilty of high treason against the American people and have their mouths washed out with lye (pun intended) soap. Then they also will ride the rail.

Option four: Leftwing Hollywood celebs who think we could and should stop using fossil fuel this very instant will also stand trial and be found guilty of intellectual treason. The punishment will be that each one will dive headfirst into the La Brea Tar Pits and be rescued in about 10,000 years.

Option five: Publishers who never, and I mean never, crack open a manuscript from an unknown author no matter how many years the author toiled to produce it, shall be judged by all the newbie authors in the country and after judgment, the penalty will be up to the authors. May I suggest that every publisher be made to read said manuscripts even into the next life? After that, they are all yours – providing you meet up with them in the next life.

Option six: You can disregard these options altogether and opt for a good book and a cup of tea. That’s exactly what I am going to do now myself.

Write on,

Mittster

Willie continued

All I can say is WOW! Willie Nelson proved once again why he is an American icon and my personal hero. Any man at his age (78) who can play the guitar with such authority and sing for an hour and a half with force and conviction has my vote.

He not only paid homage to his own composing genius, but also to Hank William, Kris Kristofferson, Waylon Jennings and others. He (Willie) brings music alive with natural ability and honesty. I wanted to hear Willie sing all the songs that had brought him fame, and brother, he delivered! It was like the old times when Willie, Waylon, Kris, and Johnny would bring down the house in concerts all over America. Willie rocked our universe Friday night at the Stargazer Pavilion in Camp Verde, Arizona, with song after song, nonstop.

Who would have thought that Willie would ever come to our small community? Thank you, Cliff Castle Casino, for providing the venue for such a fantastic night under the moon and stars; it was a magical moment in time and my wife and I will never forget this concert!

Although Willie will never know, I want to thank him personally for singing “Angel Flying To Close To The Ground.” It is my wife’s favorite, and I could swear he was looking right at her when he sang it. It brought tears to my eyes. She is such a Willie fan and has seen many of his concerts, but never one so up close and personal. The light in her eyes matched the stars shining brightly overhead. There was no doubt the whole crowd felt the same way. The hooting and hollering could be heard for miles around.

Thank you, Willie, for singing and playing your heart out…we love you!

Write on,

Mittster

Willie

I swore after the last concert in Prescott Valley, Arizona, to see Willie Nelson that I would never go again. Willie sucked, Merle Haggard sucked, while Ray Price went on and on and on and on singing my parents music. What happened to Willie the "outlaw" and his fabulous shit kicking music I loved in the ‘70s and ‘80s I wondered as sleep tried to take me over while slumping in my chair at the Toyota Pavilion suppressing large yawns?

This time is supposed to be different. First of all he is now “Willie and Family,” and his son is playing the gig with the old man. This alone should be interesting. Second, my wife got VIP seats in the first two rows at the Cliff Castle Casino outdoor Pavilion in Camp Verde. The only time I remember being a VIP was during an income tax audit. For those of you who don’t know where Camp Verde is, don’t worry – no one else knows either.

The concert is tonight and it coincides with the Thunder Valley Rally, a big motorcycle rally being held in the area this weekend. It will be fun riding the bike to the concert and then to the rally in Old Town Cottonwood tomorrow, which should also be interesting because the town is about a city block long with not much parking and it’s the first time the rally will be held there. It used to be at the casino every year, but for some reason the tribe rejected us this year. I am going to protest by not playing my normal $40 dollars at the slots. I plan to only lose $20 this year.

To be continued….

Mittster

Welcome to the 21st Century

Whoever said you can’t teach old dogs new tricks has never ridden a Harley-Davidson VRSCA. This old dog is now riding the first water cooled bike made by Harley. The V-Rod was offered up in 2002, but at the time I was still “old school” and riding a Twin Cam 88 Road King. I didn’t pay too much attention to the hype and went on about my business.

In 2005, I test drove a silver anniversary model 2003 VRSCA at KA Cycles in Cottonwood, Arizona. I was impressed with the ease of shifting and the smoothness of the lighter, rocket fast V-Rod, but, alas, I was still old school to the core. The ride left a lasting impression on me though, as did the looks of the bike. It reminded me of a Café racer, but still distinctly Harley-Davidson.

In 2010, I did the unthinkable and sold my Road King to help finance Evil in the Mirror and Day Stalker, two murder mysteries I had written and published. I missed my King, but was very excited to see my books on Amazon.com. Although my timing was lousy because we fell into the deepest recession since the Great Depression, I was determined to continue authoring and started my third novel, The Phoenix Code.

As fate would have it, I have returned to construction and started earning more money again. Now is the time to get back on a Harley. My decision to look for a V-Rod was one of common sense. I was tired of air-cooled bikes that didn’t much care for the hot Arizona sun, and they protested by pinging loudly if I let them idle too long in 100 plus degree heat. You could cook a full course meal on the engine! No such problem with the V-Rod; that is if I remember to check the water. The other issue is weight. I was also tired of man handling 800 pounds of road hog and welcomed the idea of only having to handle 575 pounds with a very low center of gravity. I also realize that my long hauls all over America are finished and that I don’t need a lot of storage space anymore.

I have found a perfect low mileage, “pristine silver,”

V-Rod at the best motorcycle store on the planet, Buddy Stubb’s Harley-Davidson in Phoenix, Arizona. I jumped at the chance to grab it up before someone else bought it. The V-Rod is truly is a cruiser on steroids and perfect for the short charity runs we have in northern Arizona. My first ride is for the Humane Society of Sedona, Arizona, in May. I look forward to riding with all my motorcycle friends again and at the same time supporting our favorite charities. Life is good….

I’m just saying,

Mittster

Attack of the Barbed Wire

Early morning mist made driving up to the house tricky. Today the place gave me the creeps for some reason. The hair on the back of my neck started tingling while rising up trying to see why my heart was pounding in my chest. The whole thing was crazy. Just because I read the murder mystery, Evil in the Mirror, late into the night shouldn’t make me feel like a sissy boy the next day. Sometimes I can’t figure out why I read books that scare the hell out of me.

I pulled into my usual parking space anticipating how much work we would get done on the extensive remodel we were doing to the house while the owners were gone for the summer. My headlights scanned the trash hauler and I was amazed at how fast it was filling up. I got out, walked toward the trailer and noticed a pile of rusty barbed wire thrown in a heap close by. Obviously the caretaker had come last night and expected me to haul the wire to the dump. At the same time I was looking at the nasty wire a horse whinnied and scared the crap out of me.

I walked back to the truck, grabbed a pair of heavy gloves and reluctantly headed to my destiny. As I grabbed the ragged coil, I was reminded of the book I had just read. The evil twins had wrapped a strand of barbed wire around one their female victim’s head and tightened it with pliers until blood dripped down on what had once been a beautiful face. At that same moment I pulled on the rusty loop and the rest of the wire instantly coiled around my bare legs as if it were alive. I fell to the ground, cussing and squirming to get out of its ugly reach. This was one of those times when I wished I had long-legged pants on instead of jean shorts.

With some effort and a lot of foul words, I broke away from the demon wire that had left ugly cuts around my ankles. As I headed for the first aid kit in my truck, dripping blood all over my boots, I was trying to think of the last time I had a tetanus shot. I couldn’t remember, so I planned to go to Urgent Care the next day. In the meanwhile, I bandaged my legs as the work crew arrived curious as to my dilemma. “It’s nothing, guys – what say we get to work!” There were a few raised eyebrows because this was not my usual demeanor. No way was I going to let them know that a pile of rusty barbed wire had just whipped my ass.

The next day I wandered into the clinic and requested a tetanus shot. The first thing the nurse asked, “Was the barbed wire around any horses?” It seems horses carry tetanus and in fact the first serums were made from horse blood. Oh, swell – this whole thing was turning really ugly. She gave me the injection and told me the site might be sore for a few days, but the important thing was that I had received the inoculation. OK, end of story; I needed to get back to work. Wrong, the story had just begun!

Within two days my whole body was wracked with muscle cramps that brought me to my knees. By Saturday, which was “honey do” day, I could hardly walk and I could tell my wife was trying figure out if I was just hoping to get out of the chores that needed doing before guests arrived the following week, or was I really hurting that bad. I have been a big bull slinger in my day, but this was even out of my repertoire.

By Saturday night I had consumed large doses of pain medication and migraine meds that didn’t even touch the pain. Sunday I awoke to a body that somehow had been run over by a Mac truck and survived. I stumbled to the bathroom and took a hot shower, which relieved much of the aches and pains. I crawled back in bed which is where I spent the day sniveling. I don’t know how my wife puts up with it; sometimes I want to jump off a bridge to get away from my own whining.

Monday night and Tuesday night I soaked in a hot tub of Epsom Salts and this morning I felt well enough to maybe blog my story to an unsuspecting audience who might show pity.

The moral of the story is that sometimes (and it is very rare) people have an adverse reaction to tetanus injections. There are about ten symptoms of which I had twelve. Believe me when I tell you that you never want to deal with the tetanus virus. If you don’t keep your booster shot up to date at least every ten years (In my infinite wisdom, I waited thirty years. I didn’t need no stinking tetanus shot – shots are for wussies!), you may have to go through learning the hard way that tetanus can kill you deader than a rusty door nail.

I am wondering how many cowboys in the old days died of tetanus from rusty barbed wire. I think the first cure for tetanus may have been rot gut whiskey. That stuff could cure anything! Damn, wished I could have had some of that last Saturday!

I’m just saying,

Mittster