Three Friends Die and Go To Heaven

Three friends die and go to heaven. When they reach the Pearly Gates, St. Peter greets them, giving them the usual spiel that everyone gets when they’re about to enter, and as they are walking in he says ” By the way, I almost forgot the new rule. Whatever you do, don’t step on a duck.” The three friends think this is an odd rule, but they agree to it and step in.

The second they enter they realize that the final rule might be harder to follow than they thought. Heaven is TEEMING with ducks! Try as they might, they quickly realize that avoiding the birds is going to be a difficult task. And then it happens, “QUACK!” Friends Two and Three look over in shock as Friend One steps on a duck. Quickly, an angel rushes over with one of the most unattractive people the three of them have ever seen. “Because you stepped on a duck, you are condemned to spend the rest of your time in the Kingdom shackled to this person. Have a good eternity.” The angel shackles the two together and flies off.

After seeing what happened to Friend One, the other two are more wary of the consequences and begin treading extremely lightly. The two of them make it another three days before, on the dawn of the fourth day, a loud “QUACK” is heard. Friend Two looks to Friend Three, wide-eyed, fearing the worst. The angel rushes over, ties Friend Two to a hideous being, and flies away.

The third friend, now petrified that this will be his fate, becomes incredibly paranoid, barely walking anywhere. He lasts one week, two weeks, but on the beginning of the third week, an angel brings one of the most stunningly beautiful people the friend has ever seen, shackles the two of them together, and flies off. Bewildered and excited, Friend Three proclaims, “Wow! What did I do to deserve this?” And the person the friend is shackled to turns and replies “I don’t know what you did, but I stepped on a duck!”

Friendly Random Butterfly

You get used to this sort of thing.

When I had the flu, like most of the Western World, I sat in my chair and looked out the window.  There wasn’t much more that I could have done since I truly didn’t have the energy, moan, coughing fit, curse, swear, moan again when will this be over.

Yeah it was that bad.  Literally.  I was listening to a podcast from Armin van Buuren and they were talking about the “Flu Making Its Way Through Holland.” at the same time I was coughing up a lung.


I watched the sun come up.  I watched the sun set.  I watched the same people walk down my block at the same time of day.  Watched the dog walkers including the guy who carries the Chihuahua who looks like its dead since it has melted over his arm.

Really, dude, the dog would be happier walking on the ground, trust me.

But it seems the wildlife here was the bright shining star in the nighttime that the flu induced.

We have ducks that visit.  My neighbor calls the ones that look inside the front door that is more than a meter, 6’6″ of security glass, Peepers.  There is a triple of ducks that visit every day.  The largest has a droopy right wing, and two smaller ones.  I figure it is a family.   Just don’t colonize under my Jeep, you’re leaving a smelly mess.

I eventually convinced them to relocate to my neighbor’s island of flowers.  The constant hosing down of the carport was a bit much.

I was noticing that the butterflies here are thick on the wing.  I would watch as my Monarchs would glide past looking for the Mexican Milkweed I have in the backyard for them to eat.

There’s a black and yellow striped Zebra Longwing that flies past occasionally.  That pattern will strobe as it flies past.

The point is we’ve been lucky.  Due to the efforts of the neighbor and the various parks in town like M.E. DePalma Park, we’re seeing more varieties of butterflies.

I have been out in the yard puttering around more than once while cleaning out my irrigation lines and had to be told to stand still as there were butterflies on my back.  Plural, as in more than one.

In the case of the orange one, I have never seen those before.  It wanted to see me.  I was over by the pool and the bougainvillea looking around aimlessly, and this little beauty landed quite at my feet.  I moved away, it got up and followed me.  For a good ten minutes.

Ten minutes is a long time to be On Guard, I suppose, but I was entertaining this little creature in the whole time.

I moved to the trash can spilling water as I carried the basket from the pool skimmer, and it followed.  I guess nobody wants to drink pool water except my dog.

I decided that the best course was to enjoy the encounter and go about my business.  Eventually it did fly away off to find more flowery fields.  All a part of being in the great outdoors.

Joe The Train Conductor

Joe, a train conductor, was driving his train when he fell asleep at the controls. The train suffered a terrible crash and only those in the front of the train survived. Joe was put on trial for the negligent homicide of nearly a hundred people. He was found guilty and sentenced to death by the electric chair.

When asked what he’d like for his last meal, he replied simply with “A banana, if you will.” The prison guard shrugged, got a banana, and gave it to the poor man. Joe ate the banana in regular fashion and braced himself for death. He was seated on the chair, fastened in, and was ready for what was about to happen.

However, after the electricity was activated, nothing happened. The guard was astonished. Not knowing what to do, he simply let Joe go.

A few days later, Joe was back to work conducting trains. Shortly after his return, he managed to derail yet another train, again killing nearly a hundred people but surviving the crash. As before, he was charged and found guilty of multiple negligent homicides. Again, he was sentenced to death by electric chair.

It was the same prison guard as before. He was surprised to see Joe again but held his tongue, for the man was about to die and it would be rude to question him. “What would you like for your last meal, sir?” Joe respond as he did last time: “A banana, if you will.” The prison guard shrugged, got a banana, and gave it to the poor man. Joe ate the banana in regular fashion and again braced himself for death. He was seated on the chair, fastened in, and was ready for what was about to happen.

The electricity was activated and Joe was prepared. But, as before, he was unhurt. The prison guard checked for any malfunctions but found nothing, not believing the entire situation was possible. Now even more incredulous than before, and not knowing what to do, the guard let him go.

Joe was, against all odds, alive and was incredibly still allowed to continue his job as a train conductor even though he was responsible for the deaths of almost two hundred people.

He was thankful to be allowed to continue his job but also scared. He would try to drive more carefully from now on. However, this effort didn’t help much, as the very next train he was conducting, he managed to somehow crash. He was the only survivor of the train, which again contained over a hundred people. He was again charged, and again found responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people. He was sentenced to death by electric chair.

The prison guard was the same, the meal was the same, the procedure was the same. After giving Joe the banana, the guard was silent. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, all he could do was prepare the chair.

Joe sat in the chair, expecting death. The guard activated it and, again, Joe was unscathed. The prison guard couldn’t contain himself. He simply had to ask, “Sir, how did you manage to crash a train 3 times? And how did you survive the chair 3 times? Did the banana have something to do with it?”

Joe paused for a moment. Then he replied: “No, I suppose I’m just a terrible conductor.”

When I Went To The Guggenheim Museum

So I went to the Guggenheim museum with my brother and father because the other museum was closed and no one bothered to check if it was open today.

So when we walked in, there was huge spiral in the center.

We walked up it and went into the first room. There were three paintings on the wall. The first one was all white except for a black dot in the center. The one next to it had two black dots. The one on the right had three black dots in a triangle. I looked to the right and there were two more, one all black and one all white.

We walked out and went up to the the next room. It had a chandelier with one light burned out. Underneath it was a perfectly symmetrical pyramid of sand.

We went up to the third room and in there was a very nice natal behind velvet rope and a single rotting sandwich on it.

After exploring a few others rooms on my own, I found my father staring at a wall looking at something, thinking what it meant. I thought, wow, my father’s a dumbass, but since I’m his son, I pondered with him. Pretty soon my brother joined us and then even more people showed up. Very quickly a large group of us were staring at it, wondering what it meant.

We were all staring at the exit sign.

How to Keep An Idiot Busy – Give Them Low Flow Irrigation

When we got this house, it came with a well.  Ground water.  It watered the yard, front and then back, and all was well.

It kept the lawn green, lush and has been so far pretty easy to care for.

Oh sure, you have to go out from time to time and use the weedeater on the fittings, but you have to use the weedeater on the yard anyway.

This is South Florida.  You drop a seed on the ground and it will grow.

The backyard has hedges, and we were getting some dry spots, so we tweaked the system.  At one point we got a computer to control it all, and put in a third zone.

Zone 3.  It’s the super-duper low flow zone.  Everything is drip-feed and designed to comply with all watering restrictions.

Now mind you, that is a big lot of problems in itself.

You see, Zone 3, also waters my pots.  Pots full of Orchid, Banana, Podocarpus, Bamboo, Mexican Milkweed, and other cuttings that I am giving a start to.

Four pots of Orchid on the fence, four more on the shed.

Figure it all out yet?

If you drive around South Florida, you will see a lot of homes with a red stain on the walls.  Mine has it too.  It’s rust from the ground water.  The easiest fix is to pave it all under and put in gravel then turn off the pump, but I like green around me.  I could never live in the Desert as a result, and my childhood bedroom had tables of flowers, succulents, and vines that I had because I liked it indoors too.

No, really way too much of that stuff.  I moved all that outside.

So the thing with Low Flow Drip Irrigation?  It uses teeny tiny little sprinklers.  About the size of a dime.  The water lines that feed them?  They are plastic lines the size of a fish tank air supply or a straw from a drink in a bar.

You know those small things that you tried to drink from when you got old enough to go to a bar?   Yeah they didn’t work then and they don’t work now.

They all clog.

Oh sure, they’ll work great for a while, but just wait.  You will have to clean them.

Why?  That rust stain.  It’s ugly on a wall.  I solved it by planting screw palms in front of the walls where the sprinkler stained it.  I figure if there is enough water to keep staining my walls, I can grow stuff there.

If it is coating my walls with a film of rust and other sediments, then what is it doing to those tiny lines.

Arteriosclerosis.  Yep, it basically gives my sprinklers a heart attack.

A coating of rust inside the lines that grabs hold and locks down the mud that is in the water.  Stick a pipe into the ground here and you get water, but that water has sand and other muck that gets up into the lines with it.

Slowly it constricts the flow until you are out there and realize that your sprinklers aren’t sprinkling and your orchids are dying.

How do you fix that?

Join me in the yard.  7AM.  I’ll show you.

Remove the sprinkler head, get a thin wire and ream out the water holes.  Oh wait, you can’t pull that off?  No worries, just cut the line and replace the head.  Did that make the line shorter?  Yes.  You’ll have to replace that line to the sprinkler.

How about the junction.  That “T” that you made to connect the two pieces of licorice whip together?  It’s clogged.  When you removed the line and cleaned the sprinkler head it still didn’t sprinkle.  Clean out the “T”.

Hmmm, still not working?  Go back a step.  You connected the lines like a row of “T”s?  Like “TTTT”?  Not too good.  You will have to remove each “T” and clean them out with a thick wire or some fishing line.

Floss those “T”s!

Still no flow?  Ok, blow out the feeder line that the sprinkler’s connected to.  Just don’t point it at yourself.

I lost a pair of jeans and my sneakers that way once.  You see at the end of each line all the mud and rust collects.  I turned on Zone 3, opened the purge valve and sprayed about a gallon of rust on my Jeans and Sneakers.  After dancing around and screaming a pile of obscenities, I closed it back up as the water was already running “clear”.

So how do you spend your time?  Mine is dancing, cursing, and stabbing myself with cutting tools when I try to get these lines clear.

Yeah, I need a better hobby.

So a Guy Sees His Ex-Girlfriend On The Train…

…on the way to work. Now they broke up rather amicably, so he gives her a friendly wave and she smiles back.

Once he gets to work, he sees his colleague at her desk and says to her “So I saw my ex on the train on my way over…” and before he can finish, his colleague abruptly stops typing and asks him: “What was she doing? What was she wearing? Where was she going? Tell me!”

He’s quite taken aback, but he obliges her the details.

After doing some work, he meets his friend for lunch and brings up the issue while they were eating. His friend drops his knife and fork and immediately begins questioning him: “How did she look? Was she doing anything? Which station did she get off at?”

He’s confused, but he tells his friend what he wants to know.

After work, he heads home and sees his roommate watching television, and wonders if his roommate will react similarly. So he casually mentions “So I ran into my ex on the way to work…” and without missing a beat, his roommate picks up the remote, turns off the TV, looks him in the eye and says “Tell. Me. Everything.”

The guy is completely bewildered at this point, but describes the incident to the best of his ability.

Puzzled by the day’s occurrences, he gets his phone and sends a text to his ex: “Hey, I told some of my friends I saw you in the train this morning and they all started asking me questions about it… Did you tell them anything? Did you talk to them?”

She soon replies: “No, but the same thing happened to me! I guess it was an ex-sighting event!”

The Impact of Job Change plus A Devout Peasant in the Dark Ages

The Impact of Job Change


One day, a passenger in a cab tapped the cab driver on his shoulder to get his attention.

The cab driver screamed, lost control of the cab, went up on sidewalk & stopped a few inches from a shop.

The passenger apologized & said: “I didn’t realize that a little touch would scare you so much.”

The cab driver replied “Sorry it’s not your fault, it’s my 1st day as a cab driver, I’ve been driving a hearse for the last 20 years.”



A Devout Peasant in the Dark Ages…

Has a starving family, so goes to the church to pray. “Oh, please lord, oh great one, in your benevolence provide my family with sustenance”.

A lump of meat falls from the heavens and lands at his feet.

The next week they are starving again, so the peasant goes back to the church, kneels and bows his head “Oh, merciful lord, I thank you for your kindness and humbly pray for more food for my starving children”.

Another lump of meat falls from the sky and lands at his feet.

Inevitably the man returns the following week, bows down at the front of the church and prays again “Lord I beg of you, you have saved my family time and again and I am forever grateful. If you bestow upon me some more food I promise this will be the last time as I realise there are others who will need your help more than I”.

Sure enough, a lump of meat falls from the sky.

The man praises god, looks toward the heavens and sees a leper dancing on the roof.

Flying Monarch Butterfly Relocation Program

Flying Monarch Butterfly Relocation Program

At one point I had Mexican Milkweed in my yard in full bloom.  I came down with what was the Flu, and

disappeared for about two weeks.  When I could finally pull my head out of the rabbit hole, I found everything in the yard was in bloom.   Mexican Milkweed was followed by Hibiscus, Bougainvillea, six different types of Orchids, and many other oddball plants.

My “farm” in the backyard was taking well, I could make a really bizarre salad out of a carrot and some green onions, because they were even growing.  Toss in some bamboo shoots for good measure, and it could be an Asian Salad.

Yeah, that much.  I’m in the middle of a Propagation Binge here.  All my plant pots are stuffed with all sorts of things waiting to root and be put into the ground.  Why not, we’re here, we’re going to stay for a while, may as well make it look good.  Summer is coming and therefore the Wet Season so everything will get a good start once in the ground.

That first day, I explored the yard and saw that my Mexican Milkweed also had a ripening seed head.  I’ll toss some seeds in the garden, and go back to tossing them all over the area.  Sometimes they grow, sometimes not.

Fast forward a few days.  My respite from having things eaten had ended and I didn’t realize it yet.

I was inspecting my cuttings.  The easiest way to get things to root is to use rooting hormone.  Then you stick the cutting in a pot, and keep that pot wet until you see growth.  I was seeing growth, but everything was so wet that the cuttings were leaning over.  My Bamboo cuttings especially, leaning to one side because that pot was more like a mud bog and the consistency of pudding.

Working my way down the chain of plant pots that are on the low flow irrigation, I noticed Banana was beautiful, Podocarpus was perky, and even the Milkweed was looking marvelous.

Well, not quite marvelous.  It had been discovered.  At some point during the last week, the Monarchs had started showing back in the neighborhood.  This far south in South Florida, we have “indigenous” Monarchs.  They live here all year around.  I like to watch them, and watch them I did from my bouncy Poang Chair sitting in the front window of the house.  They’d float by on the breezes, and I’d cough at them while healing slowly from the Flu.

There were also the ones that were black and yellow striped Swallowtail butterflies that would dazzle the eyes as they’d flutter past looking for my orange tree to lay eggs to make caterpillars that look like bird crap and have little red antennas.  I tend to flick them off my orange tree.  That tree isn’t doing that well, and losing leaves doesn’t help.

Off in the backyard, the Milkweed was doing its thing, being food for my Monarchs.  However there was

the matter of the seed pod.  I started pulling on it.

Not exactly the right thing to do at that point.  I did get the pod off the plant but the two caterpillars that were battling for supremacy got flung off.  Their black and yellow striped minds had to be thinking that the world had gone mad, or they were on a weird twisted carnival ride.

I rescued them with a Sea Grape leaf the size and shape of a CD.  You have to put the leaf under them and allow them to climb onto it because a Monarch Caterpillar will attempt to hold tight when being pulled away from a plant.  Then your natural reaction is to pull harder and you end up with a bifurcated butterfly that will never happen.

They don’t survive.

I put the two Caterpillars back in the pot and went back to the house thinking  that they may or may not survive unless they learn to eat the coleus that is in that pot.

The pod ended up on a container in the kitchen for the next few days.

Tending to making my breakfast that particular morning, I spotted a worm.  Or at least at first glance I thought it was.  I was going to turn it into worm smear when I got the bright idea to turn on the light.  What I really had was a one day old Monarch Caterpillar the size of an Inchworm.

I finished making coffee, turned the heat off and took the discarded Sweet n Low packet from the counter.  I was going to relocate this little creature to the park near the house.  It had climbed onto the pink paper and I took it out the door, down the block, and placed it onto the leaf of the Milkweed there at M.E. DePalma Park.

Straightening up, I looked down and saw it was on another nameless plant next to it.  Try again.

This time it ended up on the ground.  Try again.

Third time the charm, it was on the little Milkweed, and on its way.  Success!

Two days later, when we walked Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) past that plant I pointed it out to him and said “There, boy! That’s the Monarch I saved”.  He looked up at me with his brown eyes, wagged his tail and went back to walking down to the yellow flowers to water them again.

All is well, we saved a Monarch after flinging two, stranding another, and probably starving more.  Need to stop growing Bamboo and start more Mexican Milkweed here!

The Blonde Girl at School

Jenny, a blonde girl came skipping home from school one day.

“Mommy, Mommy,” she yelled, “we were counting today, and all the other kids could only count to four, but I counted to 10. See? 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!”

“Very good,” said her mother. “Is it because I’m blonde?” Jenny asked.

“Yes, it’s because you’re blonde,” said the mommy.

The next day the girl came skipping home from school. “Mommy, Mommy,” she yelled, “We were saying the alphabet today, and all the other kids could only say it to D, but I said it to G. See? A, B, C, D, E, F, G!”

“Very good, Jenny,” said her mother. “Is it because I’m blonde, Mommy?”

“Yes, it’s because you’re blonde.”

The next day Jenny came skipping home from school. “Mommy, Mommy,” she yelled, “we were in gym class today, and when we showered, all the other girls had flat chests, but I have these!”

And she lifted her tank top to reveal a pair of 36Cs “Very good,” said her embarrassed mother. “Is it because I’m blonde, mommy?”

“No Honey, it’s because you’re 24.”

Five Limericks

My sheepherding buddy named Paul
Had thirty four sheep in a stall
He had to transport
For Chinese export
I told him to get a ewe haul

I’m headed for Europe, it’s true
It’s something I’ve wanted to do
To the land of Hans Brinker
I go hook, line, sinker
I really do love it, wooden shoe?

The cow in the barn had to mutter
The bug buzzing her all aflutter
Had just without doubt
Used a very odd route
Flew in one ear and out the udder

Little, if anything, shows
All that’s wrong with your lacklustre prose
Quite as clearly as that which
Engendered the spat which
Is currently causing your woes.

When reading most nursery rhymes,
it’s vital you don’t skip a line.
‘Cause “stuck in his thumb,
and pulled out a plum”
needs context to make it benign.