Tip for the day

Isn't it strange that evolution would give us a sense of humor? When you think about it, it's weird that we have a physiological response to absurdity. We laugh at nonsense. We like it. We think it's funny. Don't you think it odd that we appreciate absurdity? Why would we develop that way? How does that benefit us? I suppose if we couldn't laugh at things that don't make sense we couldn't react to a lot of life. I can't tell if that's funny or really scary. Calvin

Don’t struggle to change. Struggle strengthens what you are trying to change.
- Cheri Huber

A day without laughter is a day wasted.
- Charlie Chaplin

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Monday, June 3, 2013


 Diet Donuts

Reprint of "It all hurts diet."

There wasn't really any weight problems a few thousand years ago, because everyone was starving.
Mostly they ate jerky (made out of God knows what animals) and grain. Who wants to eat grain? Soon all they did was pick at their food. They were so busy starving that they didn't have that much time to eat anyway. 

There honestly were lots of cannibals in England in the darker ages and many lived under the castles, popping out to grab a traveler here and there. Nowadays people work in offices and eat Twinkies sitting on the  Lazyboys built in to their butts, Their jobs burn few calories while the workers shoot rubber bands at each other in a constructive and productive manner. They rarely miss. Thanks to vending machines and lunch trucks fewer interns disappear these days.

Today's diets consist of food that are so disgusting that your stomach rejects them and goes looking for fat for nutrition. Which brings us to...

My diet! Having gotten stuck in the door and having had a carpenter widen it three times, I decided to lose weight. 

If you have to go to the Doctor do not let him take your blood pressure or measure your cholesterol. 

If he insists, definitely do not tell your wife the results. the size oShe will make you start taking all fifteen of the different medicines he prescribed and twenty-five different vitamins that are each about a brazil nut.  Salad Is What My Food Eats
If you have room left, your diet will consist of a little yogurt, an acorn, some times a half-inch cube of tofu or thimble of skim milk, some birch bark, and a small serving of hay, straw, or grass clippings depending on which night of the week it is. Once in a while you get some fruit if you are a good faker at fainting. You may as well move to Bangladesh. I know this because I informed Hon, my wife the results of the tests. When at work I often scrounge tables at the park across the street during my lunch hour in hope of a morsel. It is surprising how hard it is to wrestle a squirrel when on this diet.
 If you can convince your wife you have a large insurance policy, you can be assured that you will have pork chops, and baked potatoes with real bacon bits, sour cream and butter every meal until you’re up to four heart attacks a day. She will assure you that the corn dogs are vegetables and the hops in beer are not just one but, two servings. Unfortunately my wife is not gullible. So far I'm worth more alive than dead. Vigilant health authorities notify her hourly, via e-mail sent by friends (hers), that pretty much everything I do is fatal, so rabbit food is still on the menu. 
Lately, my nose starts twitching and my leg thumps whenever we go by a McDonalds. My body fat has now dropped to a dangerous sixty five percent.

It appears all the vitamins people take now have made everyone except me faster. I always seem to be leading a parade of track stars when I walk down aisles and hallways. It doesn’t help that they are making aisles and hallways narrower. I’m thinking of buying a baton. These insufferable people are constantly saying things like “Good morning Mister or sir.” I’ll start looking around for some old codger and glare at any one under the age of thirty when I realize it’s me.

During the 60’s when I was a young hippie, I had too much respect for my elders to call them sir, at least until I got drafted. You wouldn't want to get too casual though. I called my dad Hank …once. I regained consciousness about a week later and couldn’t remember his first name for the next couple of years.

Often, unbearably perky young people will ask me, “Why are you so cranky?” and I have to patiently explain to them that I have a wife and children, watch the news and wear corrective underwear that binds like theirs will in thirty years. They usually don’t ask again.

Well, supper’s ready. I hope it’s tofu night. Yum yum.

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