Weather Chaos

For the last three weeks we have had crappy weather, which in turn lasts until Monday, so that the crappiest day of all the week is crappified by the power of ten.  If you have 3 crappy weather systems spun by polar vortices you get crap to the power of ten, tripled.  Whatever.  I haven’t used high level math since college.  The point is, enough crap already!  If I were the weather chipmunk, squirrel, or any variety of rather large rodent, even I’d take a bite out of the mayor’s ear for pulling me out of my comfy earthen bunker, interrupting the “Dancing with Rodents” season finale.

I get it, I get it – we are in a cycle of weather chaos created by global weather changing chaos.  People in Alaska are actually at the beach surfing with the Kodiaks, a bear weighing half a ton, not a couple you just met from Arkansas, while I’m here in Oklahoma writing a crappy blog that 3 people subscribe to – all family members.  I want to be outside, running around in my shorts, planting a garden and mowing my lawn like a man.  But the forecasters keep giving me more crap with winter storms Quantum, Rectal and Squantum – all just days apart.  My skin is so dry and my Eczema is so intense, I have dried skin flakes all around my face.  See!


People in Boston are literally building ten story snow condo’s and charging rent. Recent photographs show the Nantucket looking like a giant Slurpee machine. All this explains the odd accent of Bostonians, their lips are frozen! Pipes are bursting in DC, while our politicians are on lobbyist junkets to Costa Rica, creating a government budget chaos.  But never fear, politicians are cold-blooded creatures and they will survive, they don’t know the difference, nor the meaning of the word “budget”.

This winter has interrupted my tax season more than ever, with several Monday’s being missed, forcing me to work Sundays.  Crap to the power of ten, tripled.  They say that all this cold may find us with a baby boom.  How?  Why is anyone going to get naked in this cold?  My wife has ten layers of quilts on the bed, thermal underwear and an artic burka on.  Even if I could move under the crushing weight of the quilts to make a move, de-clothing my wife would result in cardiac arrest.

The ice age is upon us and yet according to Scientific American, we can expect a rapid warming.  And that’s bad?!  If so, then warming, cooling, nor change is the appropriate word for our weather, just chaos.  We have only a few more letters left to name winter storms, then we start all over.  I keep hoping a scene out of the blockbuster movie inspired by Algorisms, “Global Crappy Chaos“, has DC frozen over in a matter of hours so that all the activities of the IRS, including email destruction, comes to halt finally fulfilling the preamble to the constitution – “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.”  Hey, if you are going to have crappy weather, let’s have something positive come from it.

My point is this, life will give you plenty of crap, and weather will simply pile more of it on.  So all we can do is pull our big person thermal underwear up and deal with it the best way we can.  All I can do is provide cold crappy humor, and that should be a warming thought.

You are welcome.

Now chime in, what crappy weather story do you have to share?




My Obituary


I’ve never had really deep thoughts about an obituary until today.  A 29 year-old lady at my office told me I was sweet for opening the door and answering her QuickBooks questions. My reply was that I was sweet because I didn’t want my obituary to read:

“Mauled by female workers for not being sweet.”

I am outnumbered 14-1 in this accounting practice.  I need not say anything further on the subject matter. This prompted me to have really deep thoughts on other potential obits such as,

“Mauled by 50 Shaders who hated his blog posts.”

“Mauled by Female Coders.”

“Overexposed to love by 20 grandchildren.”

“Drowned in the slobbery of his Golden Retriever.”

“Massive brain trauma trying to figure out how quickly clients foul up a set of QuickBooks.”

“Died on an Oklahoma freeway going 25 MPH, on a clear sunny day.”

“Died on an Oklahoma freeway, by a drunk, texting Okie, driving a flaming 1976 Ford Pinto, during a polar vortex 12″ ice layer, driving 85 MPH.”

“Died on an Oklahoma freeway accidentally running into a Lazy Boy recliner, Mathis Brothers Sofa, or a Sleep number mattress.”

“Caught pneumonia running into front yard when polar vortex suddenly appeared overnight.”

“Suffocated under his wife’s quilts.”

“Murdered when wife reads above obit.”

“Murdered by wife when she reads 29 year-old says he’s sweet.”

“Murdered by wife when she learned he was sweet.”

“Died at desk preparing his 60,000,000 Form 1040.”

“Died in his sleep, wife suspected in murder when recording reveals he uttered his first fiancées name.”

“Found blown to bits after toilet seat left lifted.”

These are quite gruesome to say the least.  But there is a recurring theme here, that I want investigated should I actually die.

“Man killed  from blog posts.  Female assailants too many to narrow down.  Authorities press charges against wife.”

I suppose I should clean up my act and get away from Oklahoma as fast as I can.

Naaaaawwww….. that wouldn’t be any fun.

Mon Mothball De Granny


Today, as usual I got side tracked on Facebook regarding a discussion on lady’s perfumes.  One of my new friends commented that she was an addict for perfume and she was getting some of the original Bill Blass.  From there it went downhill very quickly due to yours truly.  Soon I will have no friends and my addiction to Facebook will end.  It is my evil plot.  I commented that it is good not to get a Bill Blass clone, they must smell.

Then a gentleman entered the conversation and stated Chanel #5 was his favorite.  Soon a real perfume connoisseur shouted out names I’ve never heard, such as Feraud for Women, but also Bvlgari Rose Essentielle, Burberry Brit for Women, Juicy Couture, and Cabotine de Gres.  I realized at that moment I was dealing with the elite.  So what was my contribution to this elite conversation?

“I bought my wife this one named AMBUSH.”

You see, all those above remind me of an aged blue cheese, not something I’d like to chase after with amorous exuberance.  It’s all in the wording for me.  If they had a perfume with “Bacon” in the wording, I’d come running like a hound dog in heat and on the scent.  I’d be burrowing down into my wife’s neck like a sparkling vampire. Oh, TMI.

Then the male commenter stated one lady should try Fendi.  I was out of my league, I freely admit it.  But the undaunted creative writer in me would not let this pass.  Visions of new creative perfume brands came to my mind, here’s the short list:

  • ActivOn No. 1 (Massage therapist sold separately)
  • IcyHotness No. 2
  • Shades De Grey No. 50 (complete with complimentary whip and chains)
  • Compost Le Couture (An earth wormy bouquet)
  • La Canadian Bacon de Grease (My personal favorite)

Somehow the conservation turned to old granny’s smelling like Vick’s vapor rub, or even worse mothballs.  This is where my opportunity presented itself.  I asked the person if they had ever smelled Mothballs.  Not knowing where I was leading her, she replied her granny’s house was Mothball city.  Being one of the oldest jokes my mother loves to pull on people I asked, “How did you get their little legs apart?”  She did not reply, I think I stunned her.  Amazingly I was not removed from her friends list in a nanosecond.

Another lady joined in and wrote about her grandmothers bedroom smelling so bad of mothballs and that if you slept in her bed you couldn’t move for all the quilts she had stacked up.  Does this sound familiar my loyal followers?  Refer back to my Female Code – October 2012 Edition. I’ll have see if my wife’s Doomsday inventory of quilts are starting to smell like Mothball City, Oklahoma.

As a CPA, financial planner, author, soon to be real estate agent, and all around nutcase, I am always looking to expand upon profit making ideas and products.  I’ve listed 5 products above I may offer in 2013, provided we survive tomorrows Mayan calendar prophecy.  I am considering adding Mon Mothball de Granny to my offerings.  Who will be the first to order?

Do you have a perfume idea that you think would sell?  Tell me what it is and I’ll develop it for you.  After R&D, marketing, and distribution expenses; my royalty and executive compensation package, I can promise you a 1/1,000% royalty, of remaining profits.  Sounds fair doesn’t it?  Submit your ideas today, today, today (echo sound).