Scattershooting At The Mall, Wondering Whatever Happened to Grover Scomer, and Feeling the Need to Point Out…

How can you talk to young people about ‘Scattershooting’ when they have no idea who Blackie Sherrod was?

Now that we have all seen Kim Kardashian’s entire buttooskies, Ebola is just not that scary.

Not many people can say they have personally shaken hands with Ronald McDonald and Peter Andre, on the same day.

I wish I had a dollar for every time I said I wish I had a dollar for every time…

If you used to have a mind like a steel trap, it’s hard to accept that your steel trap is now a) rusty and b) what were we talking about?

I never enjoyed playing golf because I could never get good at it. But I sure miss the laughs. I thought about that after reading a classic Sports Illustrated piece by Dan Jenkins.

Even if the day pretty much sucks, when the Crack Puppy smiles and licks you right on the nose, your burdens instantly get much lighter.

Nowadays, as I drive my Honda, I expect, at any moment, for an 18-wheeler to crash into me going about 100 mph. I’m not sure whether this is because I’ve been watching way too many Bruce Willis movies or that I may angel is trying to get my attention.

Speaking of Bruce Willis, I admit wanting to be him so just once I could say, “Yippee ki yay MF”, before blowing the crap out of all the bad guys.

You know how when how you argue with your adult child because, as usual, he did not see something you saw, but he did see something you missed and, worst of all, your initial premise was wrong, so the whole train wreck was YOUR fault? Yeah, that.

IMHO, there should be a guy who goes around malls and, whenever he sees any man over the age of, say 38, who has piercings, he would fill them in with wood putty or flesh-tone rivets.

If Kim Kardashian’s butt was a car, it would be this car.

I just read that speaking two languages is better for your brain than doing Sudoku. But since I speak one language and cannot do Sudoku, this is not going to turn out well.

You know you have gotten way too Catholic when you feel guilty about going into Google Chrome’s Incognito Window so you can bypass the chintzy Norman Transcript’s pay wall.

At some point in a man’s life, he realizes it’s impossible to leave home without a box of old stuff in the trunk that’s to be dropped off at the Salvation Army.

Yet, despite all these donations, the accumulated crap in that man’s house never seems to shrink, not even a little bit.

You have to be realistic about these things. It would be much easier to simply set fire to your desk and walk away.

Does it make you a bad person if, when you see the little birdies flitting about under the coffee shop tables, you wish you had your .22?

The video that runs non-stop opposite the mall coffee shop would absolutely convince me to buy their uber vacuum cleaner if I needed to suck up bowing balls.

To reach our ‘optimum weight’, most OkieBoomers would need to be tethered to a hot air balloon. Maybe two.

I find it hard to believe that the state that gave us Will Rogers also gave us Dean “the Stream” Blevins.

Females who dye their hair that kind of orange that makes their heads look like they are on fire? Those females should be given a wide berth.

Yesterday, I rejected the repair job on my artificial arm because they made it approximately the skin color of Charles Barkley. Today I rejected it because it was the color of Caspar the Friendly Ghost. How hard can this be?

Mall Ladies, trust me on this, when you are well north of 40, and wearing jeans with holes in them, and your hair is dyed that flaming orange color, and one side of your head is sort of shaved, the odds of you getting asked to the prom are not good.

Geezer Alert — I accept that Fred Astaire could dance like nobody’s business, but that’s OK because he was built like a dancer. But, c’mon, there is no way that an Adonis like Gene Kelly could be even lighter on his feet than Fred. That’s just not possible.

Dan Jenkins was Dead Solid Perfect. And Semi-Tough. But even he paid homage to Blackie: “A myth exists in Texas newspaper circles that working for, or alongside, Blackie Sherrod at some early station in your life was the equivalent to a journalism degree. I wish to correct this myth. It was better than a doctorate.”

‘Nuf said.


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