Once you accept the universe as matter expanding into nothing that is something…
wearing stripes with plaid comes easy.


Georganna Hancock (of A Writer’s Edge) got me started. So blame her.

Our dryer died a long time ago and we’ve not gotten around to replacing it. It’s complicated, see, since the dry and washer are attached and there’s only one plug and…well…it’s one of those things. But this is how I feel since Laundry Day often gets skipped for longer than it should.

And how I feel about cell phones and other multi-purpose gadgets.

Cartoons by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

Top Ten

Just got this from CripHumor, By and For the Severely Euphemized. My fave is #3, followed closely by #5.

Ouch’s Top Ten

This top ten was submitted by Stevie Kennedy from Essex, who previously sent us Ten worst things to say to a person with M.E. This one was inspired by a previous Ouch Top Ten. Thanks again, Stevie!

“What are you doing in that wheelchair thing?”

1 “My skateboard’s broken.”
2 “Why not? That’s what I say.”
3 “Well, why are you walking?”
4 “Wheelbarrow races are so passé.”
5 “It’s even more environmentally friendly than one of those hybrid cars.”
6 “I’m on the run from the police. I thought this would make me look less conspicuous.”
7 “Can you guess?”
8 “I was too heavy for my helper dog.”
9 “Cruising for someone special.”
10 “Chillin‘. Killin‘.”


Senior Rambo

From CripHumor:

Many PWD can relate to Sylvester Stallone, 61, who will return in his third Rambo sequel after 20 years. The Green Beret will journey to Myanmar to overturn its despotic regime. Watch for age-appropriate uniforms and equipment. Soon cross-overs of uniforms and equipment to meet the needs of the disabled community will appear, thanks to good OLD Sylvester Stallone going first:

1] Combination dog tag/medic alert bracelet
2] Dr. Scholl combat boots
3] Bi-focal night vision goggles, for day and night wear
4] Electric bayonet
5] Hand grenades with orthopedic grips
6] Clapper activated tent lantern
7] Sans-a-belt flack jacket
8] Low sodium, high fiber MRE’s
9] Accessible Tank with perpetual left turn signal
10] Congestive purple heart medal
– Bob Mills

Say What?

Got this from an email list:

We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes;
but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice;
yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
why shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen?

If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet,
and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.

We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
but though we say mother we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
but imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim.


Some reasons to be grateful if you grew up speaking English:

The bandage was wound around the wound.
The farm was used to produce produce.
The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.
We must polish the Polish furniture. He could lead if he would get the lead out.
The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.
There is no time like the present, he said it was time to present the present.
At the Army base, a bass was painted on the head of a bass drum.

When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.
I did not object to the object.
The insurance was invalid for the invalid.
There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.
They were too close to the door to close it.
The buck does funny things when the does are present.
A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.
The wind was too strong to wind the sail.
After a number of Novocain injections, my jaw got number.
Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.
I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.
How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?
I spent last evening evening out a pile of dirt.


Let’s face it – English is a crazy language.

There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren’t invented in England.

We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quick sand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend?

If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?

If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?

Have noses that run and feet that smell?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wiseguy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

If Dad is Pop, how come, Mom isn’t Mop?
GO FIGURE! That’s American English.