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Tuesday Tidbits


The Blythe Boys had a chance to meet while I was back in Northlandia.  

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The Pope seems pretty cool as Popes go.  Usually they aren't the type to buy a round at Beer Bellies,  but the latest one is a down-to-earth type who seems more in touch with the common person than others of the ilk.  




I saw that during a recent homily a small girl with Down's Syndrome walked up toward where he was speaking.  When the security guys started to block her he said it was OK and bounded up to where he offered her a seat.  He held her hand while he finished the service.  That's pretty neat.


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I got a call from some Middle-Eastern accented fellow who said he was with the Internal Revenue service and I was in real big trouble. 

Sample conversation:

Scammer:  "What age is you?"

Me: "I is 43."

Yeah, OK.  He lied about being an IRS agent and I lied about my age.

I had a friend who was scammed by this same technique.  Of course the IRS will never call you, and most have decent English skills. 

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The Wombie recalled something I'd long forgotten.  When we were kids there was a clothes cleaning company in Monmouth that drove around to homes to pick up laundry.  Apparently when he stopped at our house we'd get our dog, Archie, all revved up against him and she'd start growling at him.  We called him Cleaner the Weiner.  He didn't like us or our dog.  





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Saw this at the Salvation Army building in G-Burg.  So true to life.

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I got back just in time to sit a sick kid.  What with that and a plane full coughing sneezing, breathing sickos, I'm counting my healthy existence in hours, rather than days.

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This may look like a simple ladder safety shot, but it was actually more.  We were driving and Mrs. Wombie noticed a guy on top of a Church jumping up and down and waving his arms.  She thought at first it was a just a high school kid playing around, but as we drove past, it was apparent that this guy was stuck up there and trying to wave somebody down.  His ladder didn't catch on the rungs and he was reticent about using it.  He also said he'd been up there about 45 minutes trying to get somebody to stop.

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Clearwater.  Ugh.


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Finally, whenever I get pissed or hurt I usually throw out a "Jesus Christ!".  Nothing personal, just reflexive.  I think it is the go-to phrase for a lot of people in a lot of circumstances.  It got me wondering if Buddhists yell "Siddartha Gautama!" in similar situations.  Or if Islamists call "Mohammed!". 



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