What's NOT Happenin' Now

In the midst of so much recent public speculation, online speculation, Twitter speculation, media speculation and directed energy transmissions to specially-crafted tinfoil hat radio receivers, it seems appropriate for me to offer this brief response about what I have and --more importantly-- have NOT been up to in recent days.

I am NOT being investigated for collusion with the Russians.  In my professional wrestling debut, I did have a COLLISION with a Russian, Nikolai the Bear, but it was all planned out ahead of time when he and I colluded in practice the day before the match, so there is nothing to investigate there.  Besides, he is not even a real Russian; he is from Pittsburgh.  (Sorry, Nikolai, but I have to protect myself).

My house was NOT raided by the FBI last Tuesday morning before dawn, and they did NOT haul off 27 boxes of documents related to their (non-existent) investigation.

This is NOT the FBI raiding my house.

I have NOT made any accusations of decades-ago harassment or inappropriate comments against any Hollywood producers, high-profile actors, cable news anchors, United States Senators or Congress-critters, Iowa GOP legislators, or any greasy auto mechanic with onion/mustard breath at a small dingy shop on North Seventh Street where my car might have been towed late one stormy evening.  (And yes, my muffler *DID* just fall off by itself, ya jerk!)

Finally, I want to make it very clear that I have NOT yet decided whether I will accept the offer to extend my contract as the Executive Vice-President of the Permanent Residents Association at the Peaceful Rest Clinic.  The pay stinks and the benefits are horrible and I can't get the President to stop harassing me and making inappropriate comments.  So I'll have to think about it.

--Victor Mowery
Executive Vice President
Permanent Residents Association
Peaceful Rest Clinic for the Non-Criminally and Only Slightly Insane Sub-Genius Masterminds and Their Henchmen

How much should I spend on flowers?

So before you hear it from somebody else, here it is straight from the horse's mouth.

I told him he ought to put a bottle of RISLONE, the yellow bottle, into his car's motor.  "Pour it in where you fill the oil," I said.  I highly recommend this product.

I don't know if it was the lousy cell-phone connection or what.  But he bought and put in a bottle of RONSONOL, the yellow bottle.  He had kept saying, "The one that starts with "R" right?  With the Ohs and the L and the S and N."  I thought he was just making fun of the name, or like I said, the bad connection.

As you may have predicted, here was the result:

It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy, really.  I tried to take about ten dollars worth of flowers to him, but there are no flowers allowed in the Intensive Care Unit.  So I gave them to my wife.  She loved them, since it was the most I had ever spent on flowers for her ever since the wedding. (At least all at one time, since I'm pretty sure I have gotten the $3 single red rose for her at least a couple of times in the last 23 years, and maybe the pretty little tiny rose in the glass tube at the gas station counter a couple of times).

But somebody told me ten dollars worth of flowers, under the circumstances, just doesn't really meet my obligation to the guy.  So I ask you, how much should I spend on flowers?

VM

Kneeling Nit-Wits and Anthem Antics

I love how men of average intelligence and zero real-world skills can get free college, negotiate multi-million dollar contracts, and then holler down from their mansion windows how "unfair" America treats people like them.

Hey, find another country where black people have it better, and then move there!  Find another country where a black man can accomplish what you've done!  Hint: there is none, even in Africa!

Yes, there are still problems to address and we all wish racism would disappear.  Maybe your millions can help - there's a thought.  But it's easier to just "make a statement," isn't it?  Kneeling or disrespecting our flag and anthem doesn't cost you any money!  At least not yet....  When it starts costing you real money to act like a spoiled brat, we'll see how genuine you are.

VM

Top Ten Ways a Pastor Can Tell if His Church Is Unhappy With Him

Here is a "top ten" list... The Top Ten Ways a Pastor Can Tell if His Church Is Unhappy With Him.  We will start with number 10 and work down, because that is the way top ten lists have always worked, at least since some time after the Ten Commandments, anyway.  Don't look at me, I didn't make this rule.

Without further ado (or further adon't), here is my list.  I will not comment on how many of these have ever happened to me personally (but I had to get my ideas from somewhere, right?)!

10. The only time anybody says "Amen" is when the pastor leaves the room.

9. At the last deacons meeting, a motion was raised to decorate both the pulpit and the platform with an abundance of large, spiny cactus plants.

8. The motion was seconded, and would have carried, if the Treasurer hadn't first reported on the actual cost of decorative cacti.

7. A sneaky church member keeps leaving the local newspaper's Help Wanted section in the pastor's office mailbox.

6. There are usually several janitorial positions circled in red ink.  And over-the-road trucker jobs.  And lots of third-shift and weekend jobs.  And offshore oil rigger jobs.  And one time, a recruiting poster for the Foreign Legion.

5. Someone hides a tape player in the pastor's office that randomly plays the "Get Out!" scary voice from a haunted house movie.

4. After the tape player breaks, the ushers take turns hiding outside the pastor's window to make the scary voice.

3. The ushers' schedule for outside-the-window duty is posted next to the nursery schedule and in the bulletin announcements.

2. At the church pot-luck dinner, the only food items brought in are all things the pastor is well known to be deathly allergic to.

1. This includes what his own wife brings!

Hey Pastors, I hope that none of this never happens to you!

--Victor Mowery

My New Tagline - From Silence Dogood (Young Ben Franklin)

"I am not insensible of the Impossibility of pleasing all, but I would not willingly displease any; and for those who will take Offence where none is intended, they are beneath the Notice of."

- Benjamin Franklin, writing "anonymously" as the widow Silence Dogood, in 1722 at the age of 16.  I wonder what he would say of today's constantly offended Twitter snowflake generation.

VM

Way Back In 1988

Way back in 1988,
I wrote down this very poem on a paper plate.
It was in my room and very late.
But, hey, the very next day,
This very poem got a "A."

VM

Oh No! Biffle's Smoke House BBQ Closed!

Quite by accident, I just found out on the internet that Biffle's Smoke House BBQ in Concordia, Missouri has closed, as the owners retired and moved to Phoenix.  Good for them.  Lousy for anybody straying too far from Kansas City and needing some real Kansas City barbecue on the road.

They now sell their wonderful sauce online at www.bifflesbbq.com, but they are not at the restaurant off I-70 any more.  (Maybe I can get a free case of sauce from them for their link here, posted for all 3 people that ever read this blog)!

OH NO, MY PERSONAL KC BBQ WORLD IS CRASHING DOWN!!!

Quick's Seventh Street.... GONE!
Biffle's.... GONE!
Mr. Epps... GONE or BACK?  He never could decide and I can't keep track; somebody please drive over by Stan's and tell me what's going on next door.  Get yourself a $1.99 Po-Boy sandwich if the sign is out, I'll pay.
Ricky's Pit... GONE too deep in the 'hood for even a certified city-boy like me to attempt it.  Or gone back to Arkansas for good this time?

Who is going next?  And I can't even enjoy the places that are still out there, because I am sojourning in the Great White North where nobody even knows what barbecue is !!!

At least the chain Bandana's BBQ that was in town closed before we ever moved up here.  After a few more years of doing without, I might have had to break down and walk into that place if it were still open.  I am spared from that humiliating and pathetic fate.  I could never forgive myself for such weakness.

VM

The Old Account Was Settled With a Low Carb Diet

My boss was walking around the shop whistling "The Old Account Was Settled" while I was busy contemplating the effects on my body of my latest attempt at low-carb dieting (which began in October, by the way, not just a New Years' resolution).  While he kept whistling, my mind wandered from the text of the song to my thoughts of thick and thin.  This is the result, which I wrote down in about five minutes.

The Carbs, They Gotta Go

My belly was so large,
And growing every day,
For I was always eating,
And never tried to weigh.

But when I looked straight down,
And couldn't see my toe,
I said that I would diet:
The Carbs, They Gotta Go!

Gotta go (out with the carbs).
Gotta go (no carbs at all).
Yes, the fattening carbs,
They really gotta go (Hallelujah)!
And the meat is gonna stay,
With some bacon every day.
But the tasty carbs, they really gotta go!

Of course I would never satirize or make fun of, or even make fun with a cherished hymn that is sacred to us.  But this song's light-hearted melody steps a bit away from the "sacred" sounds of Watts or Wesley and lends itself well to a little bit of horsing around.  Not to be sung in church, though!

Happy New Year!

VM
01-05-2017