Damn Dummies

Mr. Redneck has a way with words. Just this week he referred to the Sandwich Artist as a Damn Dummy. Now this was all in fun, fun for me at least. Kind of reminded me of ole Fred Sanford's term of endearment for Lamont, Big Dummy.

Speaking of damn. I made the mistake of using the word at home over the weekend. This is not a good thing to do when children are around. It no sooner had slipped from my pie hole than my two year old was hollering Dammit, dammit, dammit. Great. The wife was none too pleased. Her anger was intensified when I slipped a second time the following day and he was again heard singing, Dammit, dammit, dammit. Fortunately there have been no more outbursts for either of us.

I got to meet a friend of Lumpy last week. DJ we will call him was a nice enough guy. There might be issues with his drinking habits but we all slide into the bottle once in a while. Don't we? The problem I have with DJ is his perversion of reality. He seems to think everyone is out to get him. This could come from his desire to constantly play online games. Now I know most of my readers are known to frequent adult web sites, but that is just good clean fun. Online pay-to-play web games are the root of all evil and, truth be told, latent homosexuality. I am not saying that Sandwich Artist, Steeler Fan Boy and the Schweetness are all homos, surely one of em is not. But, the disturbing underbelly of this situation is online gaming tends to bring out the feminine side in some people. This is an actual dialog I read on the screen as DJ was trying to close the laptop.

DJ - What are you wearing?
Online loser - I am wearing a cloak and pixie dust, you know that Embalah the Great. Why would you ask me that?
DJ - No reason.
Online loser - You have your pants off again don't you?
DJ - Hold on, someone is knocking at the door.
Online loser - OK. WTF. OMG. RFLMAO. IAMGAY.

Strawberry update: After eating some, giving some away, there are still over 25 pounds of strawberries in my freezer.