[Vision2020] Social Security Time Line

David M. Budge dave at davebudge.com
Thu Feb 10 05:48:56 PST 2005


Joan, I'm hoping you slept well last night.  I've been spending the day 
daubing the soars from my overexposure to the extra-strength 
depilatory.  I'm researching ways to accelerate the generation of my 
dermas and I think a combination of human growth hormone and intravenous 
bee venom may do the trick.  I'll keep you posted since you were the 
impetus for my chemical self-flagellation.

Anyhow, after years of living in Chicago I'm convinced about one thing 
for sure.  The speed in which I am able to traverse cross-town traffic 
is directly proportional my red-faced, sputum splattering, invective 
saturated road rage.  It usually comforts me upon arrival to my intended 
destination. Like the father in the movie A Christmas Story, I'm sure 
that I have "spun a string of obscenities that still lingers over Lake 
Michigan to this day."

And yes, I kiss my mother with this mouth.

Dave Budge

Joan Opyr wrote:

> By way of pejoratives, Dave offers us:
>
> 1) Nutbag
> 2) Blatherskite
> 3) Pompwheeler
> 4) As_hat
> 5) Do__he Bag
> 6) Nimrod
> 7) Numbn_t
> 8) Troll
> 9) and, frankly, (just don't call me Frank) anything else that uses a 
> narrow but descriptive brush. (Joan, I need a bit of creative help 
> here -  you better take over.)
>  
> Surely (but don't call me Shirley), I can't add anything to this, 
> Dave, without accumulating an inordinate number of FCC fines.  No, 
> wait -- the FCC doesn't regulate the Internet, does it?  Ha!  So, 
> let's see what I can find in my late grandfather's bag of tricks.  
> (Ranny Watkins was a Master of the art of creative invective.  Since 
> his untimely death in 2002, he has been sorely missed by Montana 
> ranchers, longshoremen, and merchant marines the world over.  Now, 
> when they drop a wrench on their toe, they don't know what to say 
> except, "Gosh.")
>  
> So here, for your swearing pleasure, is the Ranny Watkins' short list. 
> This is just off the top of my flat head.  Believe me, there's more:
>  
> 1) Fumble-fingered fart
> 2) Friday fart at a Saturday market
> 3) Sh-t for brains
> 4) Turd-tapper
> 5) P-ss ant
> 6) P-ck-r neck
> 7) P-ck-r wood
> 8) Dried apple fart
> 9) G-d damn s-n of a b-tch Eisenhower a--faced b-st-rd.
>  
> The key to good swearing, as you'll note from invective number nine, 
> is to string your rude words together in a higgledy-piggledy fashion.  
> Just imagine that you're the unholy offspring of Lewis Carroll and 
> Lenny Bruce, with a little Dr. Seuss thrown in there for good measure. 
>  
> Now, for those of you who are having trouble grasping this concept 
> (i.e., Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, and Missouri Synod Lutherans), 
> I'd be happy to offer free Southern swearing lessons.  Just meet me in 
> my garage some day when I'm working on my '76 Chevy Suburban.  I'll 
> be trying to do a simple job, like replacing the exhaust gaskets.  
> This should take, in an ideal world, fifteen or twenty minutes.  But a 
> rusty old bolt will break off, and I'll need to drill it out.  
> Unfortunately, the drill bit will also break, the drill will slip, 
> I'll scrape all the skin off my knuckles, drop the drill, the cord 
> will hit a sharp metal edge, slicing through the insulating rubber, 
> sparks will fly, and a small fire will break out in the engine 
> compartment.  As I'm trying to extract myself from inside said engine 
> compartment, my foot will get caught on the exhaust headers, and I'll 
> fall ass-over-teacup head-first onto the hard concrete garage floor.  
> As soon as I'm finished seeing stars, a la Elmer Fudd, I'll search 
> high and low for the fire extinguisher, finally locating it in its 
> obvious hiding place behind three rolls of carpet and a spilled bag of 
> cat litter.  Then, I'll promptly spray myself in the face with it.  
> When I finally get it turned around to put out the blaze, I'll 
> discover that I've melted my new, special-order, sixty-dollar spark 
> plug wires.  And that's when you'll get it: a complete dissertation's 
> worth of swearing, Southern-style. 
>  
> If you don't know shorthand, please bring a tape recorder.  I hate 
> repeating myself, especially when I'm bleeding from the eyeballs, 
> shins, ankles and knuckles.
>  
> Damn it all to hell,
>  
> Joan Opyr/Auntie Establishment
> www.auntie-establishment.com <http://www.auntie-establishment.com>
>    
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------------------
> Get more from the Web. FREE MSN Explorer download : 
> http://explorer.msn.com

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