July, 2021 | davidhardiman.com

Archive for July, 2021

And We Shall Know They are ex-Military by the Whites of Their Scalps

Is this purposeful or an oops?

Be it known to all men far and wide. Whether they be newly discharged from the military or just civilians on forever furlough; do not, I repeat, do not keep your hair so short that we can see the whiteness of your scalp. I’m telling you – it’s not a good look. It’s not a high and tight haircut. It’s more like a high and uptight haircut. It makes you look like your head is suffering from drought – like your skull is a chia pet experiment gone very, very wrong.

 

The buzz on buzz cuts ain’t good. Some of you ex-military types look like you’ve been using Crest Teeth-Whitening Strips on your head? Some of you guys look albino from the neck up and the face back. You look like you got your hair cut in a pencil sharpener or they’re prepping your skull for an operation.

 

Those of us who have no choice but to bare our balding pates get a pass on scalp exposure, but for the rest of my hirsute brothers, don’t be hair impaired if you’re follicle-advantaged. Don’t be scalp proud unless there’s no choice. Friends should not be able to see their reflection in your chrome dome.

 

Remember: If you must get a haircut, please trim responsibly or use a DH – a Designated Hairstylist.

 

I wanna be a monk.

Sung to the tune of the Moody Blues “Nights in White Satin”

Knights in white scalped heads

Never reaching for combs

Toupees with thick threads

Covering our chrome domes 

 

Cuz I’m Mop Topped

Yes I’m Mop Topped

Ooooh Mooop Tooopped

Types of Military Discharges

  1. Honorable Discharge
  2. Dishonorable Discharge
  3. Spooj (depending on the circumstance, this can be an honorable or dishonorable discharge)
  4. Medical Discharge
  5. Bullets
  6. Loogies
  7. #1 & #2
  8. Sneezes
  9. General Discharge

Planetary Influencers of the Ages Allowed to Make a Brief Statement from Beyond the Grave

Twitter’s Interdimensional Cosmos Division has granted DPIs (Deceased Planetary Influencers) the ability to make one brief public statement of 140 characters or less. In facilitating this “beyond the grave” communication, Twitter hoped to assist these eminent souls in clarifying their legacy while selling a Super Bowls’ worth of advertising alongside their extraordinary pronouncements. Then came the cosmic glitch.

 

Owing to unpredictable sunspot flare-ups and a determined Turkmenistanian hacker, all of these precious communications were blocked except for one tenuously fortuitous conduit located directly beneath my Barcalounger. This once in a 10,000 year alignment of oracular vortices below my recliner made me the only human privy to these momentous proclamations. I have taken great care in cataloguing and interpreting these nutritious communications and present them to a truth-starved public, with limited commercial interruption:

 

Jesus Christ – I was the Son of God. I exemplified sacrifice for others. I don’t need 135 denominations worshipping me. One is all you need. And let’s put it this way, there are plenty of Jesus Jrs walking the earth. I may have been beatific and all, but I’m no fool. My message is more than 140 characters. Consider it another of my miracles. Oh, yeah, and stop choosing sides out of anger. Stop exercising your will. Exercise my Dad’s Will. Get it? And don’t you be fooled by your seeming separateness.

Steven Jobs – We’re all just end users.

King Tut – Nice song Steve. BTW I wanted a simple headstone, but the Mortuary Cult of High Priests and the Pyramid-Industrial Complex wouldn’t let me. So peer amid my pyramid, and know that I think it sphinx.

Hitler –  My bad. Do over? Could you hook me up with Sigmund Freud? I’ve got a few psychological issues I’d like to discuss with this brilliant Jew.

Atilla the HunHe’s still blocked by Twitter

Atilla the Son – I’d like to apologize for my dad. Y’know once you get to know him he’s really a very caring murderer. He killed more discriminatingly than you’d think.

Atilla the Mom – Well, we knew all along he was a special needs husband. We just didn’t know how needy he was.

Sponsored Ad: Get RING® doorbell cameras. See how many arm tattoos the delivery guy has when he drops off your package. We now rejoin extraordinary pronouncements from beyond the grave already in progress

Nikolai Tesla – Shocking. Just shocking what Elon Musk has accomplished. Oh, and Cold Fusion is possible. Neutron variance is the key. You’re welcome.

William Randolph Hearst – Rosebud

Otto von Bismarck – Oh I love Prussia. Prussia, Prussia, Prussia. And medals. And scary helmets with points on them. Schnitzel, Beer und Deutschland. Achtung baby! Germany is finally unified. What could possibly go…

Mother Theresa – I’m just relieving suffering. That’s the game while you’re here. There is nothing else to do. You do it without expectation. It ain’t saintly.

John Lennon – I know. I was complicated and arbitrary. You try being a Beatle and see how much balance is in your life. Loved Paul, George and Ring. Didn’t mean to work out my personal saga in front of y’all, but being a world famous Beatle I had no fookin’ choice.

Abraham Lincoln – Well that was a struggle. Don’t let me down now. Our federal union – it must be preserved.

Elvis Presley – Wait. Lisa-Marie was married to who?      Serious?

Ram Dass – I’ve left the world of form. Or should I say, it once left me. I now recognize my place alongside the Source. And you will too. PS: They have Twinkies here. I say again…we are not Twinkie-less in this dimension.

Jerry Falwell – I must recant, my earlier rant. You say my son did what with his wife?

Neil Armstrong – You get here by taking one small step, but it feels like a giant leap.

Lassie – I’m telling you there really is trouble down there at the abandoned mine. Jesus, it’s like we’re speaking a different language or something.

Marcel Marceau – ☮ ♥

William Shakespeare – I is one freaky Anglo man. Peeps been readin’ my words since forever. Thou doth adore me. With much ado you really do adore me.  

Carl Sagan – Let me provide some perspective. A million seconds is 11 days. A billion seconds is 31 years. A trillion seconds is how long it would take for North Korea to develop some common sense.

Secretariat – Being put out to stud was a good gig. But this. This place is better by several horse lengths. You can grow your fur long and you don’t have to keep your fet-locked.

Edgar Allen Poe – Let them eat crow. I mean raven.

Henry VIII – I was a royal dick. I promoted a religious schism and the separation of, not only church and state, but wives from heads. I’m a self-hating monarch. I vow to change my stripes…just as soon as I get out of this jail. On a side note, that Bill Shakespeare thinks he’s all that. He gets to be called a bard while I’m called a tard.

Muhammad Ali – Still pretty and still ain’t got no quarrel with them Viet Cong. Keep it ‘bout love when ya can. Don’t keep it ‘bout bouts.

Albert Einstein – You can’t quote me. There’s nothing left to quote. I’m travelling so fast that, as I predicted, my mass has become infinite. I’m everywhere. I’ve been folded into Eternity.

Joan of Arc – Vive la belle France!

Mr. Joan of Arc – What she said.

Not Dead Yet (Predicted Comments)

 

Donald Trump – I’m not going anywhere where I have to be accountable.

Hillary Clinton – It’s OK even though I really, really, really, really, really wanted to be President.

Worthwhile List of Funny Things I’m too Lazy to Organize

  1. A triumvirate of university zoologists claim to have discovered a 3-humped camel. The discovery, of course, happened on a Wednesday. How they knew the camel had been humped 3 times is currently under police investigation.
  2. Meanwhile Egyptologists are a little suspicious of Pharaoh Ramses II’s exhibit on tour in North America. They’ve discovered a hieroglyph that clearly translates as “Sorry, I left the Clamato Juice in the Oldsmobile.”
  3. Love the Undo button in Microsoft Word. Now if only there was one for real life.
  4. Actually I’m not “too lazy to organize this list.” I’m just honoring my incarnation. Yeah that’s it. Honoring my incarnation. I do that a lot lately. Especially as an excuse to stuff leftover bits into an eclectic assortment of ideas.
  5. Man claims to have never once picked his nose. “It’s true” he said. “Not once. Maybe 1000 times but certainly not once.”
  6. The trend of specialty retailing has become ubiquitous (thank you very much Synonym.com). For example Popeye’s is test marketing a new restaurant called Chicken for White People. It features half the spices and none of the fun.
  7. In the San Francisco area, Burger King is micro-marketing Burger Queen’s. This extravagantly decorated restaurant sports…oh, never mind what it sports. The point is, the buns are more shapely than ever. And you can get a Whopper with 2 Patties: Patty Longo and Patty Sherman.
  8. In the Bay Area, Karl Mender’s Collision Centers are offering 20% off on car repairs to anyone transitioning from one sex to another – it’s called Mender’s Gender Fender Bender discount.
  9. The E-I-E-I-O corporation has purchased old restaurants from MacDonald’s and has retro-decorated them into Old MacDonald’s restaurants, for seniors who had a farm. They say it’s a can’t miss farm to table concept. With a couscous here and a couscous there. Here a cous. There a cous. Everywhere a couscous
  10. Vascular Profiling? Studies show that minorities are subject to more Cardiac Arrests than whites. Clearly the Stop and Defibrillate policy saves lives, but is it trampling the rights of minority heart attack victims?
  11. New Olympic Demonstration Sports
    1. Competitive Eating (followed by)
    2. Competitive Projectile Vomiting
  12. Greeks I have known: Diabetes, Erroneous Views, PlayDoh, Soccer Tees, A Wrist Tottle and, of course, Osgood Drury
  13. It’s less difficult to graduate from most colleges, than it is to find a parking spot near class
  14. PU (Pace University) is on financial life support. A Pacemaker was installed and Pace has been told to make peace with its donors. William Makepeace Thackery is helping with hospice.
  15. I sometimes read books cover to cover, and nothing in between. How else am I going to judge it?
  16. I’ve wondered where my iPhone was…while it’s been in my hand and I was using it.
  17. This Day on Earth: Today approx. 150,000 people will die. Approx. 50,000 people will experience their first orgasm. 99% of them will be men. Men are pigs.

A True Man

In 1953, five months after leaving the White House, ex-President Harry Truman took Bess ALONE on a 19-day roadtrip from Independence, Mo., to East Coast and back in their new Chrysler New Yorker.
As they say: It was a different time.
May be a black-and-white image of 1 person

Haute Couture. It Really Hoits.

I think I wore it best.

A Nightmare that Gives No Satisfaction

Had the same nightmare again last night!
Keith Richards sidles up to me and slurs:
A covariation analysis reveals elements of selectivity in quorum sensing systems.”
 
I can’t take much more of this!
A no, no no. A hey, hey, hey.
That’s what I say.

Costco Opens a New Kind of Warehouse Store in the Deep South called “J Crow”

Big Box ideas for a small-minded world.

In response to ever-fragmenting consumer markets, Costco has opened a new kind of warehouse shopping experience in the Deep South that caters discreetly to a certain unnamed, but plainly obvious demographic group. The stores’ name hints at its target market – J Crow. Membership is open to everyone, but due to complicated membership rules, it’s very difficult for “certain groups of people” to gain access to the store. The fact that J Crow has a Membership Suppression Department speaks volumes.  

 

J Crow is marketed as “A haven for Southerners with discriminating tastes – very discriminating tastes.” And the store has proven highly popular with its target audience. In fact, States’ Rights magazine voted J Crow the most popular warehouse store in the entire Confederacy.

 

This neo-Costco store features products we’re all familiar with, but have been rebranded to make them more appealing to this underserved group. A list of products catering to this unique demographic appear below:

 

  1. KKKleenex – Comes in any color you want as long as it’s white. There are no racial issues with these facial tissues.
  2. Jimmy Crow’s Pure Pork Sausage – You know it’s bad at every level, but somehow you just can’t resist it
  3. Santa: Our Albino Christian Gift Giver – On sale now in the revisionist Christmas book section
  4. Breyer’s All-White Neapolitan Ice Cream – The 3 flavors you love in one soothing color
  5. Kellogg’s “Special KKK Cereal” – The cereal is not made from amber waves of grain, but from ample grains of bleached wheat
  6. Southern Crackers – Are you kidding me? These saltines practically fly off the shelves.
  7. Bigoted Playing Cards – Because sometimes you just want to play the race card
  8. Crayola “Whiter Shade of Pale” Crayons – Box of 36 off-white colors including: Bone, Pearl Mist, Eggshell and Honky
  9. All White M&M’s – Easily tolerated, diversity-proof snack where even the chocolate is white
  10. Set of 8 Hot Wheels Race Cars – Each Hot Wheels race car is supposedly separate and equal, but guess which race always wins?
  11. Cool Whip – No change to its pure, lily-white formula. It’s non-dairy and non-threatening
  12. KKKrispy KKKreme Donuts – Southern fried, with Southern pride. No shortage of shortening here. In fact there’s a longage of shortening. Some say these empty-calorie donuts make the Deep South seem shallow. Very confusing, but very tasty.

 

Kirkland Corp. (Costco’s parent company) will be keeping a very biased eye on this new marketing  venture designed for people with discriminating tastes – very discriminating tastes. Kirkland Corp. hopes this endeavor will allow for other specialty warehouse themes appropriate to its locality. A few ideas floated include sombrero-shaped Costco’s in Mexico, pyramid-shaped Costco’s in Egypt and a Great Wall of Costco’s in China. These are just a few examples of Costco’s Big Box, out-of-the-box ideas.

Paul Revere’s Other Midnight Ride

Paul Revere: A skilled silversmith and stout patriot who, if he lived today, maybe would’ve built and flown  his own spaceship. Then again, maybe not. It’s difficult to say.

Most of us are familiar with the story of the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere. The skilled silversmith and stout patriot galloped through the Massachusetts countryside to warn the citizens and alert the Minutemen of the impending British Invasion – not the Beatles 1964 invasion but the British Redcoats 1775 invasion. His Majesty’s Troops’ mission was to march to Lexington and Concord, secure the armory and powder houses, thereby disarming the revolutionaries.

 

It was little noted nor long remembered, but 1 week later he made another less mythologized ride. Almost lost to posterity but recently discovered in a blood-deprived area of my brain is the story of this other midnight ride of Paul Revere.

 

I’m pleased to present verbatim a brief discussion between Paul Revere and his wife Prudence Revere pertaining to the events of that other midnight ride on April 25th 1775. 

 

 

Paul:          Pru, I think I’m gonna gallop over to Lexington for some milk. 

 

Prudence: What? Are you crazy it’s almost midnight. 

 

Paul:          Well you know how cranky our 15 children get if they don’t have their milk in the morning. 

 

Prudence: Oh, I see what’s going on here. You’re not going to Lexington at all are you ? You’re going over to Bunker Hill to see that Molly Pitcher woman. 

 

Paul:          Wha? No baby it’s you. It’s always been you. 

 

Prudence: Baby? You never call me baby. Is that what you call that little hussy of yours? 

 

Paul:          Pru, c’mon. What do you want me to call you “my sincerely appreciated helpmate.” I won’t be long. I’m just getting milk. It’s for the children. 

 

Prudence: Last week you went on another midnight ride with some flimsy excuse about there being 2 lanterns in the North Church steeple. What was that? Some kind of code? And then you came back at 6 in the morning all tired and spent…and with no milk.

 

Paul:          That was different Pru, I had to warn the people that the British were coming. 

 

Prudence: The British are coming? What are you talking about? We’re all British. Me thinks the British weren’t the only ones coming that night. And with that floozie Molly Pitcher. Shame. Shame. 

 

Paul:          Floozie? Who uses the term floozie? Where did you learn that? – From Reverend Dimmesdale? You see him a lot.

 

Prudence: I seek only spiritual guidance from Reverend Dimmesdale. Alright then, let me rephrase that – the wench Molly Pitcher. Point is I’m here with 15 kids and you’re out gallivanting in the countryside. 

 

Paul:          Pru, for the last time I’m going to a farm in Lexington to get some milk for tomorrow. It’s the only one open at this hour.

 

Prudence: And you couldn’t think of that at 7 o’clock? Whose farm is it anyway? 

 

Paul:          It’s old Mac Donald’s

 

Prudence: I heard he sold the place. Old Mac Donald had a farm. He’s in O-hi-o. 

 

Paul:          Did I say old Macdonald? I meant Pepperidge Farm. Yeah. They’ve got a new trot-thru window. 

 

Prudence: I know. I’m sorry Paul. I’m just antsy. I think I’ve got a bee in my bonnet what with the Puritan Festival coming up. How could I ever suspect you? You know I revere you Paul. 

 

With his wife’s suspicions allayed, he galloped off to Bunker Hill to see Molly Pitcher. And later that night his cries could be heard throughout the country side, “Paul Revere is coming! Paul Revere is coming!”

Oh Kleenex! My Kleenex!

Oh Kleenex! My Kleenex!

 

When I place my nose deep in your tissue

I feel so depraved

Because what I issue in your tissue

‘tis mucous I’m afraid

 

Oh Kleenex! My Kleenex!

My fearful sneeze is thru

But I dare not look

To see that you took

All my nasal goo

 

Oh Kleenex! My Kleenex!

The filth I do deposit

Doth make me compelled

To open you up and see what’s beheld

 

Oh Kleenex! My Kleenex!

My mind is disturbed

For I can’t unsee the mayhem

It makes me perturbed

No I can’t unsee the gray phlegm

It makes me unnerved

 

Oh Kleenex! St. Kleenex!

Your tissues so absorb

The things I excrete

Straight out of my orb

I thank you I do

From my nasal cavity

And apologize greatly for my teenage depravity

 

Oh Kleenex! St. Kleenex!

Though you may think I’m being snotty

Be happy there’s toilet paper, right there by the potty 

For no matter what I’m wiping

‘tis you I adore

And no matter what I’m swiping

‘tis you I care for

 

Oh Kleenex! St. Kleenex!

You give so much, You ask so little

I need you now, to wipe my spittle.