DEAR DIARY – DAY 1
All packed for the cruise ship — all my nicest dresses, swimsuits, short sets. Really, really exciting. Our local Red Hat chapter – The Late Bloomers decided on this “all-girls” trip. It will be my first one – and I can’t wait!
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DEAR DIARY – DAY 2
Entire day at sea, beautiful. Saw whales and dolphins. Met the Captain today —seems like a very nice man.
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DEAR DIARY – DAY 3
At the pool today. Did some shuffleboard, hit golf balls off the deck. The Captain invited me to join him at his table for dinner. Felt honored and had a wonderful time. He is very attractive and attentive.
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DEAR DIARY – DAY 4
Won $800.00 in the ship’s casino. The Captain asked me to have dinner with him in his own cabin. Had a scrumptious meal complete with caviar and champagne. He asked me to stay the night, but I declined. Told him I could not be unfaithful to my husband.
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DEAR DIARY – DAY 5
Pool again today. Got sunburned, and I went inside to drink at piano-bar, stayed there for rest of day. The Captain saw me, bought me several large drinks. Really is quite charming. Again asked me to visit his cabin for the night. Again I declined. He told me, if I did not let him have his way with me, he would sink the ship… I was shocked.
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DEAR DIARY – DAY 6
Today I saved 2600 lives. – Twice

1966: Long hair
2016: Longing for hair

1966: KEG
2016: EKG

1966: Acid rock
2016: Acid reflux

1966: Moving to California because it’s cool
2016: Moving to Arizona because it’s warm

1966: Trying to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor
2016: Trying NOT to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor

1966: Seeds and stems
2016: Roughage 

1966: Hoping for a BMW
2016: Hoping for a BM 

1966: Going to a new, hip joint
2016: Receiving a new hip joint

1966: Rolling Stones
2016: Kidney Stones 

1966: Screw the system
2016: Upgrade the system

1966: Disco
2016: Costco 

1966: Parents begging you to get your hair cut
2016: Children begging you to get their heads shaved

1966: Passing the drivers’ test
2016: Passing the vision test 

1966: Whatever
2016: Depends

A young cowboy sitting in a saloon one Saturday night recognized an elderly man standing at the bar who, in his day, had been the fastest gun in the West.

The cowboy took a place next to the old-timer, bought him a drink and told him of his great ambition to be a great shot…

Could you give me some tips?’ he asked.

The old man said, ‘Well, for one thing, you’re wearing your gun too high – tie the holster a little lower down on your leg.’

‘Will that make me a better gunfighter?’

‘Sure will’

The young man did as he was told, stood up, whipped out his .44 and shot the bow tie off the piano player.

‘That’s terrific!’ said the cowboy. ‘Got any more tips?’

‘Yep,’ said the old man. ‘Cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it – that’ll give you a smoother draw’

‘Will that make me a better gunfighter?’ asked the young man.

‘You bet it will,’ said the old-timer.

The young man took out his knife, cut the notch, stood up, drew his gun in a blur, and then shot a cufflink off the piano player.

‘Wow!’ exclaimed the cowboy ‘I’m learnin’ somethin’ here. Got any more tips?’

The old man pointed to a large can in a corner of the saloon. ‘See that axle grease over there? Coat your gun with it.’

The young man smeared some of the grease on the barrel of his gun.

‘No,’ said the old-timer, ‘I mean smear it all over the gun, handle and all..’

‘Will that make me a better gunfighter?’ asked the young man.

‘No,’ said the old-timer, ‘but when Wyatt Earp gets done playing the piano, he’s gonna shove that gun up your ass, and it won’t hurt as much.’

Some “Intellectual” musings to ponder

I had amnesia once — or twice.
*****
Protons have mass? I didn’t even know they were Catholic.
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I am neither for nor against apathy.
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All I ask is a chance to prove that money can’t make me happy.
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If the world were a logical place, men would be the ones who ride horses sidesaddle.
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What is a “free” gift? Aren’t all gifts free?
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They told me I was gullible and I believed them.
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Teach a child to be polite and courteous in the home, and when he grows up, he’ll never be able to merge his car onto the freeway.
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Experience is the thing you have left when everything else is gone.
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One nice thing about egotists … they don’t talk about other people.
*****
My weight is perfect for my height … which varies.
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I used to be indecisive. Now, I’m not sure.
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The cost of living hasn’t affected its popularity.
*****
How can there be self-help groups?
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Show me a man with both feet firmly on the ground, and I’ll show you a man who can’t get his pants off.
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Is it just me, or do buffalo wings taste like chicken?

ANNUAL NEOLOGISM CONTEST
Once again, The Washington Post has published the winning submissions to its yearly contest, in which readers are asked to supply alternative meanings for common words. The winners are:

1. Coffee (N.), the person upon whom one coughs.

2. Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.

3. Abdicate (V.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

4. Esplanade (V.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.

5. Willy-nilly (Adj.), impotent.

6. Negligent (Adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.

7. Lymph (V.), to walk with a lisp.

8. Gargoyle (N.), olive-flavored mouthwash.

9. Flatulence (N.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.

10. Balderdash (N.), a rapidly receding hairline.

11. Testicle (N.), a humorous question on an exam.

12. Rectitude (N.), the formal, dignified bearing adopted by proctologists.

13. Pokemon (N), a Rastafarian proctologist.

14. Oyster (N.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

15. Frisbeetarianism (N.), (back by popular demand): The belief that, when you die, your Soul flies up onto the roof and gets stuck there.

16. Circumvent (N.), an opening in the front of boxer shorts worn by Jewish men.

A young guy from MINNESOTA moves to ARIZONA and goes to a big “everything under one roof’ department store looking for a job.

The Manager says, “Do you have any sales experience?” 

The kid says “Yeah. I was a vacuum salesman back in North Dakota .” 

Well, the boss was unsure, but he liked the kid and figured he’d give him a shot, so he gave him the job. “You start tomorrow. I’ll come down after we close and see how you did.” 

His first day on the job was rough, but he got through it. After the store was locked up, the boss came down to the sales floor. “How many customers bought something from you today?” 

The kid frowns and looks at the floor and mutters, “One”. 

The boss says “Just one?!!? Our sales people average sales to 20 to 30 customers a day. That will have to change, and soon if you’d like to continue your employment here. We have very strict standards for our sales force here in Florida. One sale a day might have been acceptable in North Dakota, but you’re not on the farm anymore, son.” 

The kid took his beating but continued to look at his shoes, so the boss felt kinda bad for chewing him out on his first day. He asked (semi-sarcastically), “So, how much was your one sale for?” 

The kid looks up at his boss and says “$101,237.65”. 

The boss, astonished, says “$101,237.65?!? What the hell did you sell him?” 

The kid says, “Well, first, I sold him some new fish hooks. Then I sold him a new fishing rod to go with his new hooks. Then I asked him where he was going fishing and he said down the coast, so I told him he was going to need a boat, so we went down to the boat department and I sold him a twin engine Chris Craft. Then he said he didn’t think his Honda Civic would pull it, so I took him down to the automotive department and sold him that 4×4 Expedition.” 

The boss said, “A guy came in here to buy a fishhook and you sold him a boat and a TRUCK!?”  

The kid said “No, the guy came in here to buy tampons for his wife, and I said, ‘Dude, your weekend’s shot, you should go fishing.’ 

And remember. A woman always has the last word in an argument. Anything after that is the start of the next argument.

Yes, Good Party?

A gray-headed old man shuffled into a downtown bar holding his head up high. His hands shook as he took the “Piano Player Wanted” sign from the window and handed it to the bartender.

“I’d like to apply for the job,” he said. “I was a Navy Sea Wolf pilot, flying Huey`s in support of the Navy SEALS, spec war operators back in ‘Nam, but when they retired the Sea Wolves, all the thrill was gone, and soon they cashed me in as well. I learned to play the piano at Officers’ Club happy hours, so here I am.”

The barkeep wasn’t too sure about this doubtful looking old guy, but it had been quite a while since he had a piano player and business was falling off. So, why not give him a try…..?

The old pilot shuffled his way over to the piano while several patrons snickered. By the time he was into his third bar of music, every voice was silenced. What followed was a rhapsody of soaring music unlike anything heard in the bar before. When he finished there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. 

The bartender took the old Sea Wolf pilot a beer and asked him the name of the song he had just played. It’s called “Drop your Skivvies, Baby, I’m Going Balls To The Wall For You”, he said. After along pull from the beer, leaving it empty, he said, “I wrote it myself.” 

The bartender and the crowd winced at the title, but the piano player just went on into a knee-slapping, hand-clapping bit of ragtime that had the place jumping. After he finished, the Sea Wolf pilot acknowledged the applause, downed a second offered mug, and told the crowd the song was called, “Big Boobs Make My Afterburner Light.”

He then launched into another mesmerizing song and everyone in the room was enthralled. He announced that it was the latest rendition of his song, “Spread ’em Baby, It’s Foggy Out Tonight and I Need To See The Centerline”, excused himself and headed for the john.

When he came out the bartender went over to him and said, “Hey, fly boy, the job is yours; but do you know your fly is open and your pecker is hanging out?”

“Know it?” the old fighter pilot replied, “Hell, I wrote it!”