Neanderpundit

“American murderor” is an intestinal parasite that destroys healthy tissue, breeds profusely, drinks it’s host’s blood, cause the host to be anemic, weaken the host’s defenses and leave it vulnerable to attack from other organisims.

Sounds remarkably like “liberals”

I cannot help but laugh uncontrollably every time i see this commercial about the ShoeDini.

Gilbert Gottfried is not right. I have no idea how much money he made doing this commercial, but it was not enough.

As my language became salty early on in my life, (you can’t work in the steel mills without learning a few things) I am capable of blistering paint, if need be.

Around my daughter, however, I still censor myself. Oh, it’s not like she won’t learn those words, I’m sure she already knows more than I do- but it’s not my style.

it wasn’t dad’s style either, he never used an off color word anywhere near my mother or sister, nor me until I was about twenty.

I know how hard it must have been, in retrospect, but at the time I just thought he was incapable of operating the english language.

I remember dad working on our old Comet. it was red, and rusty as hell, but it ran like a top. it had lost a rear wheel bearing and dad had it up on an assortment of blocks and bricks as he sweated off the old bearing and beat a new one on with a piece of copper grounding rod.

I sat and watched him intently, and he put on quite the performance. Lacking the resources to have someone install a $3 bearing, he did it himself, though it took him the better part of a saturday and he probably hurt for a week afterwards.

At one point, after having hit himself on the meaty part of the hand for the fourteenth time, he leaned on the car, which fell off the bricks it was teetering on, pouring oil all over his toolbox and spilling his beer, he exclaimed “Gott… (looking at me he stopped himself).. blast…. you son of…. da…. (starting the words or phrases and being unable to finish them)hey, why don’t you go see if mom needs any help with dinner?” Knowing full well mom needs help with dinner about as much as monkeys need help flinging poo, I took the hint and vacated the premesis, wherupon Dad (once I got out of earshot) tore into the car, the toolbox, the oil, the axle, the bearing, the beer, the sun, the moon, the stars, and the planets, calling them everything in the book and a few things he made up besides, removing the remains of the paint from the left rear quarter panel.

he did get the bearing in, anyway. And we drove that car for another several years, thousands of miles.