Check out Kurofune at the top right of this page. Great read. Buy it through Kindle E-Reader or in Softcover.
This just in:
Jennifer Lopez’s Sexy, Sheer Performance Outfit Will Have You Screaming……for the exits! Gadzooks. She gets paid for this?
Meanwhile, at the White House Macron and Trump are getting cozy. Same thing at Pyong Yang
Is this real apolotique in France and in Korea. Heard in passing: “Hey are there any apparat-chicks around here Dong Un?”
“It’s Pyong me Moon. Can I call you Moonie”…….Cozy!
Breaking News: Singer Janelle Monae Out as Pansexual? This after her latest performance was panned by critics.
I only have two things to say about that bit of news. Who the &^%$ is Janelle Monae and who gives two &^%$ about this fluff anyway. I love pancakes – especially with Maple Syrup. Hey, I’m Canadian after all.
And what about these guys:
Brothers in arms. Disgustingly so. Is there a physical trait in all of this that gives them away? Perhaps the haircuts or the facial features. Are they twins?
Anyone seen Kevin Spacey lately?
South Korean President states that Trump deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for his efforts in bringing peace to the Korean Peninsula.
Lefties go berserk on hearing that remark. They all went apoplectic. Where’s Obama when you need him? 19th hole?
From the “Why people are sheeple” file comes this:
Macdonald’s increases their menu prices. Sales soar. And that is why trying to fight the carbon tax is a non sequitur. If they raise their prices their food must be great. Ah, no Virginia.
I love this:
Justinian Trudeau is set to become the world’s first Post National Modern State’s Cannabis Feminist. Justin has all the bases covered for his next erection! er…election!
Probably bust but I am going to give it my best shot.
The Abby in Vezelay France. Where according to Catholic legend or myth or whatever, the bones of Mary Magdalen are housed, not buried, but housed. Sounds more eclasiastical to me. Buried sounds so eternal…the end game, nada, that’s it, that’s all He wrote. And how did her bones get from the Holy Land to Vezelay? God only knows. Perhaps he liked Burgundy and wanted some of the grape to conduct a Celebration of Life for dear old Mary. We’ll never know but Vezelay sure is a beautiful place. And speaking of Never I also want to see that place as that is where Saint Bernadette de Soubirous is buried. Entirely preserved I am told. Better than my 1982 Suburu.
Back to Vezelay:
Hmmmmmmmmm…..The Abby in Vezelay….Hmmmmmmmmmm
Where I will start my 900 km walk….Hmmmmmmmmmmm!
Just hope they never have an earthquake!
Maybe I’ll see this guy there:
Comedian Dave Allen, as the Bishop!
Catholic Passport. Given out at birth to every good Catholic boy or girl. Must be stamped at various milestones throughout life. As a reminder that as Catholics, we are all:
Sorry…..I must say though the Catholicism has produced a multitude of laughs over the years. You would never, ever hear or see a Protestant comedian telling a Martin Luther joke. Or a Muslim telling a joke about Islam. Never. Now we Catholics fear an existential threat of eternal damnation while those other guys can’t even come close to that. That is why there is so much fun with the Catholic Church. While a Muslim martyr is promised salvation with a bevy of beautiful women, we Catholics have to be content with “Going to Hell in a Handmaiden’s basket”! Much more fun.
And Lourdes? Hopefully I will make it there.
Been training for this walk now for a few months. Here I am at the beginning of a morning 22 Km walk. Shawnigan Lake area near Mill Bay:
Land-locked Ness monster. How did she get here?
Fun times ahead. I’m going to track this pilgrimage on this blog…so stay tuned.
Song of the day. Unlike Mary Magdalen, I make no bones about my faith. It’s a great song:
Hey, check out Kurofune, top right link on this page. Getting great reviews…if I do say so myself. here is one:
“GREAT BOOK” John, couldn’t put it down. Loved the way you wove in the military, historical and personal aspects of this very important part of WW II. Your descriptions of the battle from a marines prospectus really made me appreciate the sacrifices these young men made. Also really enjoyed the way you interwove the personal stories of the family on Siapan (sic) and Ted Culp, showing the huge and lasting consequence of War on peoples lives. Well done, a must read and I can see a movie coming out of this. Marijke would have been very proud.”
Marijke was my wife. She died 08 December 2017 from cancer.
What is the old saying? “Life is tough but when you are stupid it’s horrendous.” And here in BC we are all stupid in believing the BC government’s Carbon Tax is revenue neutral. What does the average Dude or Dudess on the street say about that:
Say it ain’t so. We are all being neutralized to the tune of over 6 bucks a fill-up for this so called revenue neutral Carbon Tax.. If anyone reads this from another country do not fall for this government “sleight of hand” in your own country less you be defined by your actions as a really stupid electorate. It is a huge fraud!
What do government officials in BC have to say about this discovery?
“Seriously folks. Listen to me Canadians. This Carbon Tax is revenue neutral and will help us save the planet:”
Meanwhile, as heard in the government “Caucus:”
“And then I said…hahahahahah, and this is the best part….that it is….hahahahahahahah….revenue neutral! Can you believe it? hahahahahahah..They fell for it…Hahahaaha..Life is so good when you are me.”
“Oh Jus-ton. You are one ton of Carbon laughs… dude.”
“No David, that is…..hahahahahahah…50 tons man”
Meanwhile, from the unintended consequences file come this (thanks Maggie’s farm):
“Finland Ends its Basic Income Experiment.”
“So what’s the problem?” someone asked
“We couldn’t get anybody to work the programme!”
And from my “I know you were just dying to hear this bit of fluff” file comes this:
“Monkees are having inter-species sex.” Climate Change to Blame.
“We are? News to us. By the way, what is climate change?”
It is getting so bad now that beggars on Victoria’s downtown streets are now asking pedestrians for climate change. Failing that! Bitcoins.
“Life is tough! When you’re stupid it’s horrendous.” I love that quote.
Just too many lies… people. Do not fall for it. Kick these guys and gals out at your next election. Demand common sense policies:
“If it doesn’t make sense then it is nonsense.”
Song of the day: State of Confusion in this Land of Confusion.
Check out Kurofune link at the top right of this page. My first crack at being a writer.
Sad about Toronto van incident. My home town, Toronto. What possible motive could anyone have in doing this? But it’s not terrorism…according to Trudeau government.
Don’t know about you but if I saw a van barreling down on me on a sidewalk in a city I would be sacred shitless, wouldn’t you? If that isn’t terror I don’t know what is! Of course Trudeau paid out $10.5M to a convicted terrorist and apologized to him for being a…terrorist. He was soooo misunderstood, according to Liberal government officials. Just ask the victim’s wife.
Being bored is the number one downside of being rich, according to some millionaires. Lack of purpose or get up and go…where? Well anywhere if you’re rich. I’d like to try being rich and bored rather than being poor and postal in my current job….Geesh. Some could be so lucky.
Another mystery of life…
This dude’s eyes are scary!
…have you ever noticed that while all the hair on your body turns grey when you get old, your eyebrows stay the same youthful colour? Hmmm? Hmmm? Perhaps to remind us what we once were every time we look into the mirror. Just another mystery of life.
Only in the UK! Lip-Reader reveals what Will and Kate remarked during official baby photoshoot.
Charles’ reaction to royal baby?
“It’s a what?”
“A zir, a zay, a zitz or titz? C’mon, what gender is the baby?” “It’s non binary Charley. You are sooo, sooo, 1980’s.”
A Cal state English professor will keep her job university officials stated. Her vile comments about Barbara Bush and her death are protected under the First Amendment..they proffered. How I love that word…proferred. And apoplectic, posit…other university-speak buzzwords. If a male had said that he would have been gone before he even deposited it. First Amendment right? This from a University that will talk the talk but not walk the walk because they, the university staff, all agree with her but can’t acknowledge that publicly. Note: would you want your children to be taught by someone like this. Notice the Palestinian coloured scarf. Progressives…UNITE!
WaPo Headline: “Trump having trouble holding his wife’s hand.” Are you kidding me? Perhaps his hand was sweating. Meanwhile over at another illustrious news-rag comes this. “Trump struggling to hold the hands of his wife”…or… from the NYT’s undercover reporter: “What really happened to Trump in Moscow.
They just will not leave this guy alone. Love him or hate him, nobody deserves this kind of tabloid press…and that is why I will never subscribe to a newspaper ever again. Trump Derangement Syndrome in spades here.
Trudeau blames the Conservatives under Harper for Canada’s current border crisis. Of course he does. What, not Trump? C’mon. Everybody knows Trump is at fault for every crisis on this planet.
Why is everyone all of a sudden so concerned about Russian missiles being able to hit Manhattan or anywhere else in the world today? This is not new Millennials:
Scene from Dr. Strangelove
The war room scene in Dr. Strangelove.
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb was released in 1964!
“and then it goes………kaboom!”
So move on millennials. No story here
Penn States “Outing” club is now banned from going outside.
What’s more dangerous: rugby, or a walk in the woods? At Pennsylvania State University, the administrators apparently think it’s the latter.
A key issue for administrators was that the Outing Club frequently visit locations with poor cell phone coverage. This wasn’t an issue during the Coolidge administration, but now that cell phones exist, students are apparently expected to remain glued to them at all times.
“Whoa, whoa wait a minute”…one Penn State University official was heard to say “I thought this was a “Coming Out” club, as in coming out, not camping out.” Same thing ain’t it?
And this is just another reason why I would suggest that nobody in their right, or left mind encourage their children to go to university. Learn a trade man or maness, dude or dudess.
Chicago Sun Times going under? It’s about time!
Shania Twain shamed by the media because she dared to say she would have voted for Trump. She backed down to the pressure of the liberal thought police.
And here I thought it was her horse!
So the media isn’t biased huh? The scary thing today is a person’s livelihood, reputation and well being can be destroyed just for saying that they are a conservative. Just ask Tim Allen about that with respect of how Holly’s Woody in the Morning crowd treated him when he came out publicly as a conservative.
Vezelay France. The start of my 900 KM Pilgrimage. Only 98 more sleeps to go.
Check out Kurofune. My new book. Just click on the link at the top right of this page to go to the Kurofune web site.
Keeping in the religious vein I thought I would put this little vignette out there:
Miracle at the Confessional
I am sitting there in the cavernous church: non plussed, and wondering what I’ll be confessing. There was that list of sins of course, both venial and mortal to contemplate. The church, being really well organized after thousands of years of practice, and not wanting to waste anybody’s time, the priest’s or mine, had a list and that list was all encompassing. It must have been quite interesting and comical fun coming up with the list of venial and mortal sins. I would have loved to have been part of that Working Group or Ecumenical Council for certain. Yes, a sinful checklist of remembrance was the way to go. Did I do this? Check! How about that? Check. Masturbation? What is that? More on that later! Uncheck? Murder? Nope, uncheck unless thinking about murdering my oldest sister was a sin? Uncheck that. On and on it went. Meantime, while I was sitting there waiting to go in to meet my fate head on, I suddenly came down with a horrific case of the hiccups: bad, violent, non-relenting. Each hiccup shook my entire being.
Ever try to mask or hide a hiccup in a confined environment like a church, or worse yet, the claustrophobic confines of a Confessional? It is not pretty. Your cheeks bulge out; eyeballs and pupils expand outwardly in a Feldman like manner; the stomach contracts then expands in rapid succession; and, like an uncontrollable fart, a growling sound begins its emanational rise from the lower bowels of the human body bypassing the stomach then running up the oesophagus in its belch like fashion, or in the Catholic vernacular, like a resurrection. The gut, it hurts. The whole sensation repeats itself over and over and over again until those hiccups run its course. With each attempt to mask the hiccup the sensation becomes worse and deeply magnified.
Embarrassed, I sat out in the pews near the back of the church daring not to even think about going in to that dark, dank and tiny expanse that they called the confessional. The interior of those tiny cells, abreast of and on either side of the priest’s chamber, have a unique odour about them. Here, some 50 years later, as I am writing this, I can still sense that smell. A toxic mix of incense and sweat interspersed with a whiff of stale tobacco and alcohol for all of the priests smoked and drank. Once inside and kneeling there was no escape for the priest knew you were there given the little panic-type-like button that activated a beep for the priest’s sake and a tiny red light outside of the cell once your knees pressed into the red foam of the kneeling pad. All the priest had to do then was to slide the small grated sliding door to the left or to the right as need be and you were trapped, trapped by the Priest’s undivided attention, until absolution. I am sure that every Catholic knows and remembers the sound of that small sliding door opening and closing.
I couldn’t even think of how I would handle that situation.
“Bless me father – hic -up – for I have hic-up – sinned. It has been hic-up – one – hic-up-ed week since my last hic-up-ed confession.” Good thing that I didn’t stutter for heavens and the priest’s sake!
I sat there in the pew for what seemed to me to be like an eternity. As the time marched on my hiccups seemed to get worse. I prayed and prayed that they would stop but no heavenly dispensation came my way that day. I held my breath for what seemed to be minutes but no luck. I looked directly into the glare of the afternoon sun but again no reprieve. Finally I sensed that I was the only young soul left sitting in the pews of the church, still hiccup-ing. Just then the Priest came out from his Priest-cave, looked around in the late afternoon sunlit church, with its long shadows and soft beams of spiritual light accentuated with particles of floating, flickering dust and spotted me. It was Father Docherty. He was a fatherly Father of our church: nice but somewhat of a lush. Chubby, but not fat, more cherubic like features, weathered and somewhat rustic with a fractured nose and pronounced limp from his athletic days of playing ice hockey for the “Holy Rollers.”
His robes hung over him in disarray. He was more of a slob really, or should I say heavenly slovenly. He always drooled so it was wise to give him a wide berth to avoid the spittle for, as mentioned earlier, second hand spittle was a fate worse than death or penance for someone as young as me! He had a high squeaky voice which did not adequately or accurately personify his physical features.
How did I know he was a lush? Several of my friends were alter boys – assistants to the Priest while celebrating Mass. And father Docherty always celebrated the 10:15 Mass. That was the time that the semi-high mass at our church was celebrated. And one dictum that every young lad or lass in the parish knew was never ever go to the 10:15 Mass. It lasted an eternity. And being a semi-high mass meant more wine at the Offertory segment of the celebration. It was the alter boys job to carry the small carafes of water and wine from a side table hidden from view from the parishioners up to the alter area such that the Priest could mix the water with the wine. Only in his case there was no water only wine, and lots of it, in two carafes: one being white to resemble water the other being red to symbolise the blood of Christ. By the end of the Mass, Father Docherty’s limp became more pronounced as he began to slur his words. This was not really a problem because no one in the church was paying attention by this point in time anyway and even if they were they couldn’t understand Latin.
“Shakey Jay” he commanded “What’s the problem”
I thought that I think it is obvious Father.
“I have the hiccups, Father, really hiccup-ing bad so I cannot say my hic-up-ed confession with these hiccups.”
I obeyed and when I got within an arms throw of his massive arms he put his left arm around me, chuckled somewhat and told me not to worry about the hiccups as he led me to the confessional. Perhaps he was impatient for this session to end so that he could run back to his own quarters and watch Tarzan.
And at that exact moment in time, without a doubt and with no exaggeration on my part, when he slung his left arm across my shoulder, those hiccups ceased immediately.
Is this a saintly, canonization, beatification worthy moment? Probably not in the overall Catholic scheme of things but for me it was an experience that I never forgot. It was right up there with my Uncle Rupert’s guardian angel apparition on that dark and stormy night or my Dad’s miraculous recovery from cross eye-ed-ness after visiting St Anne De Beaupre’s shrine outside of Quebec City with his mother. Truth or fantasy? Don’t really know for I was an impressionable and innocent soul back in those days. Cynicism had not yet manifested itself or wrestled away or destroyed my enthusiasm for life nor my innocence or naivety as yet. Only happy thoughts!
Continuing with the religious theme, here is the song of the day: 1970’s “Spirit in the Sky.” Norman Greenbaum. This song was well ahead of its time with respect to guitar riffs and rhythms.