Saturday, April 29, 2017

"North Korea test-fires ballistic missile in defiance of world pressure"

By Jack Kim and Ju-min Park | SEOUL
"North Korea test-fired a ballistic missile on Saturday shortly after U.S. Secretary of State Rex Tillerson warned that failure to curb Pyongyang's nuclear and ballistic missile programs could lead to 'catastrophic consequences'.

"U.S. and South Korean officials said the test, from an area north of the North Korean capital, appeared to have failed, in what would be the North's fourth straight unsuccessful missile test since March."

Read more: 

I think it's time to drop one of those 'mother of all bombs' on Pyongyang.  Look at Kim Jong-un  in the above photo.  He never served in the military, did he?  His salute has slipped to his ear. He's willing to go to war, he says.  (Over what, nobody knows.)  He's willing to murder thousands of his followers.

This is the fourth straight failure of one of North Korea's missiles.  Like Kim Jong-un, they just fizzle out.  C/mon Trump, squash this bug once and for all.  Do it before he attains nuclear power.

Open Blog - Weekend

Let's rock instead of shoveling rock.

Friday, April 28, 2017

Four for Fridays!

Hello everyone I hope you have been enjoying the nice weather we have been having minus the rain. I would rather the rain then the nasty S word. Here are your questions.

1) When you go on a vacation would you rather drive there or take a plane there?

2) What kind of flower so you like the best?

3) What singer or band do you like the best?

4) What t.v. show do you like the best past or present?

I hope everyone has a great weekend.

Open Blog - Friday

My life is good one day out of the month: payday.

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Dear Madame Zoltar

Dear Ms. Tender Heart Bear: No, I was not getting my kidneys checked.  But maybe I should.  When I go to the doctor, he has a bone through his nose and lots of little figurines.  He dances and shakes some powder on me (achoo) and talks in some gibberish I don't understand.  Then he pronounces me cured and holds out his hand for payment.

Hmm.  Maybe that's the way I should do business (minus the bone in the nose).  Dance around, shout some gibberish, sprinkle salt and pepper on the client, and pronounce him/her well done.  Demand immediate payment.  If he/she balks, ask if he/she has a pet.  "Not anymore," you then say.

Well, the weather has been less than delightful, but we've already had a few marvelous days. The seesaw of spring.  I hope you enjoyed those days and I hope we have many more to come.  The winter was mild.  That always makes me feel like we'll pay for it in the spring or summer.  One thing is for sure: warmer winter means more bugs.  Best to keep one's mouth shut this summer.

"The boys" (Señor Zanza and Junior) have been cleaning up the yard a little.  It's been too wet to do much.  The farmers can't get out into their fields to plant.  Why do we always refer to the farmers when we refer to weather?  Who started that?  I remember it since chilhood.  Then there's the Farmer in the Dell, but that's a whole 'nother story.  Actually. farm work is very hard.  That is, if you're doing the farm work and not some machine.

I haven't checked on our criminal Mayor's latest hijinks, but I'm sure they're something to behold.  We're getting close to the Ten Year Plan's completion.  Absolutely nothing has been done other than all the members of the "club" have been given monies in various ways.  Our monies.  They're stealing it in broad daylight.  Gee, I wish I was one of John Dickert's friends.  I could use the money.

Congratulations, Mr. OrbsCorbs, on your recent kidney gain.  I've been praying for you.  Keep up the positive vibe and you'll be surprised how far you go.  Maybe you'll even grow new kidneys.

When you need help, ask 

Thank you so much for reading my blog this week.  I love you all.

"10 Simple Things Kim Jong-Un SECRETLY Enjoys"

Open Blog - Thursday

SHIT to you.

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

"Your Cell Is Ready"

From The Shepherd Express:

By Art Kumbalek 1 hour ago

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? Listen, as the poet from out of St. Louis, Eliot what’s-his-name, once said, “April is the cruellest month.” To which I say: No shit, Sherlock. Best for me is to lay low and ride out the rest of the month; so I called the office and told them I wouldn’t be coming in to whip out an essay this week ’cause the voices told me to stay home and clean my guns instead. Take your time and then some, they said.

Since I don’t have any guns, I figured my day was clear. The focking voices then told me to head over by my favorite open-daily 23-hours and 59-minutes restaurant for a relaxing breakfast ala caffeine du jour, seeing as how it’s a tad early for a nice cocktail over by the Uptowner tavern cum charm school. Come along if you want but you leave the tip. Let’s get going.

Bea: Hey there, Artie, nice to see you. What’s your pleasure?

Art: How ’bout a nice cup of the blackest, thickest and cheapest cup of whatever you’re calling plain-old American coffee today. Coffee with a gravitational force of its own, thank you kindly.

Bea: One cup of “Black Hole” coming right up, Artie. So what do you hear, what do you know.

Art: I hear there’s a lot of dough in the private prison racket these days. They could make a movie—Field of Cons. A guy clears his backyard, puts up Century fence all ’round it, gets a Doberman and all of a sudden Al Capone comes waltzing out the unattached garage and says to the guy, “Build a prison and they will come, capisce?”

Bea: Lordy, I almost forgot. Here. I got you a card—for Earth Day. It’s belated, ’cause I haven’t seen you for a while.

Art: Jeez louise, since when are you supposed to exchange cards for Earth Day? I tell you, Bea, the greeting card industry has got to be stopped before it’s too late. What’s their industry slogan again—“Deforestation is just another way of saying ‘Thinking of You’”?

Bea: I’m told not one single twig went into the making of this card and envelope, Artie. It’s composed of some kind of all-natural multi-purpose recyclable high-tech product. They also make a brand of walking shoes from the same material.

Art: Oh yeah, I bought a pair of those babies once. Walking home from the store was a religious experience. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. They recycled themselves back to Mother Earth before I even got halfway home.

Bea: You do believe in the value of recycling, don’t you Artie?

Art: Are you kidding, Bea? Cripes, as a would-be essayist, that’s the bread and butter of my beeswax. So who exactly told you this card is made of some all-natural high-tech schmutz?

Bea: The people at the Earth Day convention I went to the other week.

Art: I went to one of those once years ago. Some of those people need to do more research for their literature, like this pamphlet I got called “Facts You Should Know About Wildlife.” It had this fact and that fact, but they forgot the most important fact.

Bea: Which fact is that, Artie?

Art: “Best served at 350-400 degrees for 45 minutes to an hour or until tender.” No Bea, I can’t celebrate any Earth Day until it becomes an official bona fide holiday, one where you get a paid day off from work so’s you can go visit relatives and drink their beer all day.

Bea: Aren’t you going to open the card, Artie?

Art: Abso-focking-lutely, Bea. Let’s see here… Good lord! Look at this cover.

Bea: It’s a bonobo chimpanzee.

Art: And is this chimp doing what I think he’s doing to the guy wearing the lab coat around his ankles and bent over the examining table?

Bea: Seems to be, Artie.

Art: Serves him right. Monkeys and chimps aren’t meant to be stuck full of electrodes and needles in a laboratory somewheres. They’re meant to wear bellboy outfits and roller skates at the circus so’s to entertain the Homo sapien. Bea, read the note inside you wrote, would you? I recently lost my reading glasses during the twists and turns of a bar bet.

Bea: “Dear Artie, don’t forget to cultivate your garden in this, the best of all possible worlds. Signed, Bea.”

Art: The best of all possible worlds? Now I’m really depressed. But let me be candid, Bea—without you in it, this world would sure be a lot worse, I kid you not. But I got to run, so thanks for the coffee and for letting me bend your ear there, Bea—utiful. See you next time.

Bea: My pleasure, Artie. Always nice getting talked at by you. Take care.

(Okey-dokey, off to the Uptowner. If I see you there, then you buy me one ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.)

Open Blog - Tuesday

I love citrus fruit, except grapefruit because one of my meds reacts badly with it.

Monday, April 24, 2017

"reMarkable - The paper tablet"


Yesterday I was in the express check-out lane when I suddenly realized I didn’t have enough money to cover my purchases.  This is always embarrassing.  You have to decide what to put back.  But yesterday, a woman in line behind me asked how much I needed.  “At least a dollar,” I said.  She gave a dollar to the cashier, who donated 30 cents of his own.  So I only had to add 6 cents.

There still are decent people out there.


That night, I called my pal, John, and asked to borrow $20.  Then I promptly fell asleep.  (Damn this disease!)  I awoke at 3 AM to find that John had let himself in and left $20 on the kitchen table.


This is a tough time of year for me because it’s when most landscape projects start.  I so miss the soil.  I miss kicking my spade into the ground.  All of the flowering trees, the sounds of a chainsaw, somebody mowing their lawn – they all get to me.

Yesterday, while driving home from the store, I saw two different people mowing their lawns.  I burst into tears and had to pull over.

I gave up landscape to take care of my mother, the woman who gave my toys to other children when I was growing up.  What an idiot.  I thought there was some honor or something in doing that.  Huh.  So, instead of enjoying a decent retirement, I’m a pauper most of the time.  I must be the only dope who actually believed what the Church was preaching as I grew up.  No one told me it was all a scam.


Open Blog - Monday

Good-bye Monday.