Don’t Prostate Yourself On My Behalf

She called me ma’am and I paused and asked her what she said, more out of surprise than because I hadn’t heard her.

I heard her, but while I am not Barry White there is a definite rumble in my voice that makes me think I would sound like a very scary woman.

But what do I know.

Anyhoo after she repeated it I said not to prostate herself on my behalf but I don’t think she caught the joke.

Shortly thereafter I was involved in another conversation in which the smart man I was speaking with told me to “give him liberty or to give him death.”

I smiled as I said “you go out with the masses and death might be the gift that you get and give.” I don’t think he understood me either.

Maybe I’ll write a Bubba June a letter and offer a Jeremiah Red and a free Pizookie for some monkey business cuz that is what clowns do.

Letters I Have Written Never Meaning To Send

I do confess I noticed a good friend didn’t send me a birthday greeting and hasn’t spoken with me in a long time.

Said notification made me shake my head and wonder if they are waiting for me to reach out or if they have fallen under a rock and are waiting for me to rescue them.

I have long instructed the fine folk to knock three times on the ceiling if they want me and I shall come a calling.

It may be that I am almost middle age but the one thing I can still do quite well is move heavy shit around, especially if the call is for brute strength and not grace.

Yep, I am a brute and still an uncivilized barbarian. Love me or don’t love me but remember once you go Wilner there is no going back.

You are stuck.

Hell, not only are you stuck there is a damn good chance your mother loves me too, unless you are one of a few people in which case I am probably unloved.

You might wonder what I could have done to deserve such an unfair state and I would agree, the judgment was unfair and unreasonable./

But as a man of a certain nature I can promise you once I ascertained justice would never be mine I played the role of the villain quite ably.

It is kind of fun because heroes often fail and some people won’t read that book again even if they are in a castle dark or a forest strong.

Works for me because I am on a carefree highway.


Anyhoo, if you haven’t noticed I am in a kind of a mood. One kid asked the other for help managing me and was told by their mother, “good luck.”

Can’t stop me, can only hope to contain me and then only for short moments. How does an almost middle aged man have this kind of energy and more importantly, how do I bottle it up and use it later.

Because there will come a time when I will be exhausted and wonder what happened to all that energy.

Hell, there was that moment last night when it was painful to sit and yet I was too exhausted to stand so I wobbled my way to bed.

The Words We Share

I cannot confirm nor deny having told someone they are too dumb to be a Republican but if that had been me smiling I would have been quite amused.

Not amused enough to prostrate myself but glad the old prostate is semi functional.

How do I know that? Well these emails come in fast and furious and say an almost middle aged man like me has testy Testosterone and that I ought to take some pills.

Don’t ask me about that little blue one or the pink or red.

No sir, and no ma’am.

Reminds me of the time I heard this guy at the zoo talking to the monkeys about beckoning to them. Yet another example of someone misusing words because they think it makes them look smart.

“Hey Monkey! I am beckoning to you.” That is what it was supposed to be except he drew it out.

“Heyyyyy Monkeeee-Beck….oning to you!”

Being a kind hearted man I walked over and told him the best way to get their attention was to stick a banana in his mouth and well…

Sorry, I can’ finish it as this is a family blog and kids might read this post.

Of course if you show this to your kid you deserve what comes next and ought to wash your face off with some kind of industrial soap but I digress.

Would write more here but the three people who read this are bored and can’t figure out what the hell I am talking about.

Oh well, let them read the last week and then write me with the answers to the open book quiz that comes with this particular nonsense.

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