It’s not about WHAT you know, it’s WHEN you know it. ~ danof89

. . . I could probably write “volumes” of books on what it’s like turning 40 in today’s young, aggressive, take-no-prisoners, show-no-mercy, dog-eat-dog, no-holds-barred, three-word-hyphenated world; but who’s got that kind of time at “my age”? Anyway, who’d read them? A bunch of 40 year old’s ?

Seriously, their days are starting to become numbered and they should really spend ALL their spare time thinking more about who they are going to be leaving their possessions to, when they’re “gone”. . .

I’ve been in seclusion for the last few weeks trying to make sense of where the last 40 years of my life went (Scratch that. . .The last 40 years and a few weeks) since, I myself, turned the “Big 4 0″. What were my findings? . . . That it really doesn’t matter, ‘cuz it happened. . . Now what the hell am I going to DO about it? It wasn’t the actual “turning 40″ thing that I had a problem with. The main “hang up” I had was that I’d convinced myself (while still in my 20′s) that by the time I reached 40, I’d have it  “ALL FIGURED OUT”. . . And as a result, now that I “AM” (40) and obviously “DON’T” (have it ALL FIGURED OUT) I am left a little discombobulated. . . a little disconcerted. . . a little pissed. Why would I have EVER listened to the “20-something” me? I was a frickin’ idiot!
So I’ve decided to blow a hole in the theory that I came up with (while still in my 20′s – a decade of my life spent partying, like “THREE separate 20 year olds”, NONE of whom had ANY intention of living beyond age 30) by explaining that while I DON’T have it “ALL FIGURED OUT”. . . I’ve spent the better part of my 30′s digging myself out of the hole I created for myself while young and stupid and just NOW am starting to “understand” a few things a LOT more. So you might want to listen up. . . Coincidentally, if you find yourself below the age of 40 , you may continue to read and if you are “smart” (you aren’t) You may want to pay heed (you won’t) to my warnings and listen to (they aren’t reading anymore) what I have to say. . . It might save you some time and spare you a few disappointments in life (okay, I think the suckers have moved on to smut sites)  

. . . The first thing that I had to do, while trying to make sense of the predicament that had befallen me (the turning 40 thing) was to realize that I wasn’t alone. Well, technically I was, like at that “precise moment“. . . My wife and kids wouldn’t come near me, because of the smell. I still hadn’t bathed in a few weeks and I was a little “ripe”. (But I’m all better now) The second thing I needed to do, was cancel my plans to attend my Junior College’s 20 year Class Reunion

. After all, until I realized how, where and why my lifelong ambitions had “gone south” on me, there was really no reason to subject a bunch of my old friends, who’d moved on to burgeoning careers with fully paid-for homes, luxurious and fun-filled summer AND winter vacations, and totally-covered kids’ college tuitions – to “MY” bleak existence. . . No, it would be better for EVERYONE to steer clear from me, until I got this “ALL FIGURED OUT”. . .

My NEXT step, was to begin to backtrack to where or more accurately “WHEN”, the root of my problem had occurred. I remember when 40 sounded “old”. . . Now, I look around at other 40 year old’s and it STILL seems “old”. 40 MAY very well just be a number, but it looks like an OLD number. At the very least, it looks like a number that when “reached” signifies that the person “wearing” the number has either earned the number or is “earning” a yearly salary that is mathematically reached by an independent outside third party, who has surmised those that adorn the number, have satisfied any and all obligations to the outside world and will now be rewarded for their countless years (I counted 40) of putting up with people’s crap, writing good checks and kissing ass. These people seem to be living MUCH better than me and my family. They seem to have money in the bank. . . They seem to be doing it “right”. They seem to make me want to PUKE

. . . But, WHEN did someone share the secret of “your age one day being equivalent to your overall success and net-monetary worth in life”? Was it at one of the 3 colleges I attended, but didn’t graduate from? Was I at a party somewhere, standing on my head doing tapper counts or shots of Jägermeister, when then made this clear to EVERYONE but me? Somewhere, along the line, I think I got “jobbed” in all of this. . .

So, where does that leave “me”? It is my understanding that women have a “biological clock”. One that is directly connected to their ovaries, vulva, uterus or other reproductive system components with names that sound like the next hybrid car rolling off of the production line for GM in 2012. (thank God for the “bailout”, huh, ladies?). . . So they have this clock, that apparently “goes off” some time during there 30′s or 40′s (depending on your sources – Mine, happen to be the women of “The View”) that tells them that soon, it may be a little too late to be “making the babies”. My thinking is that men have a similar clock that “goes off” some time during their 20′s or 30′s (my source – being “My Brain”) that tells them that soon, it may be a little too late to be “making the career decisions that will help provide a stable and secure future for you and your family, should you be lucky enough to find someone that’ll want your sorry ass”. . . I’m pretty sure that when these “clocks” were being handed out. (Around the time the net-worth discussion took place and future success had been divied out) that I DID receive one. However, (again, somewhere in my 20′s) the alarm on this clock started to go off. . . Unfortunately for me, and for quite a few people that knew me at the time, I think I hit the “SNOOZE” button. (this is a feature that is not provided in the woman’s version of the clock – they just “dry up” or something) As a result, I was left making life and professional decisions in my late 20′s and early 30′s that could have been viewed as. . . “frickin’ retarded” . Like I hadn’t even been cognitive of what was going on around me AT ALL. In layman’s terms, (or Dr, Phil’s) I experienced a “What Were You Thinking?” moment. . . “My” moment, lasted about 10 years. . .

Somewhere along the line, through either “luck of the draw” or “cruel fate” I had “accidentally” become a successful Toy Designer , in the late 90′s. It gave me  “just” enough of a taste of success doing something that I LOVED doing. PLUS, something that I was pretty good at. . . THEREFORE, in one of my now “famous moves” and exhibiting my “infinite wisdom”, I decided to leave that world behind to forge ahead as a “freelance artist” and follow my DREAMS to California and become a . . . . . . yeah, that’s just the thing, I hadn’t really thought “that” far ahead. . . Not until I met my wife (and 3 of my 4 kids – she HAD 3 already, then we MADE another one, okay?) about 8 years ago, did I even begin to realize that I had failed to “wake up” when the alarm on my “clock” had gone off. Somehow, my wife saw past my obvious shortcomings and realized my “potential” . . . despite my flaws. I know. . . gullible much?

and NOW? I’m a Public School Bus Driver . . . but hey, you do what ya’ gotta’ do, right? that’s what I keep telling myself. . . Go Figg’r. . . (the title of this thing starting to come into focus for you now?)

The thing is, I feel like I know what I NEED to know to be able to handle success now. . . Which is precisely WHY I will probably never achieve it. Success (in MY mind – and at this point that’s what you’re inside of right now. . . MY MIND. . . SCARY, huh?) seems to be dolled out with very little regard to who is “worthy” of it. . . kind of like those folks out there collecting paychecks for doing absolutely NOTHING more than being 40 years old (or more) and annoying. Going about their days making their Cadillac Escalade payments (on time) and purchasing time shares in Tahoe, with just enough time to go to Wal-Mart and pick out a 52″ flat screen TV and a family-size fun pack of assorted Doritos® (which now costs approximately only $3 less than the television, but STILL considerably more than I make in 6 months) before going home to sleep on piles of their money . . . I’m kidding, of course. . . Rich, successful people don’t shop at Wal-mart. . .They shop at Target.

But the fact that I have all the necessary “tools” in place to be able to “cope” with all of the trials and tribulations that wealth, fame and success can bring. . . is surely my “Road to NOWHERE”. . . That would be too neat. . . too clean. . . too convenient. . . too unlike anything that has happened previously in my life. It’s not that I like to do things the hard way. . . It just turns out that I’m not one of those kinds of folks that can “Make their money WORK for me”. . . I WORK for IT. . . and IT is kicking the crap out of me. . .

That’s why I am writing this today. . . I think I may have actually formulated a “plan”. . . A way to break free from the shackles of mediocrity. A way to realize my dreams and to come to a better understanding of how I can get past the fact that there is a difference between “complacency” and “failure”. . . I’ve been beating myself up all these years trying to figure out how to make up for lost time. Opportunities that I thought I’d let pass me by, because of something I “DID”. . . Oh, don’t you see? . . . You DON’T?. . . Well, I’m not sure I do either, but bear with me, ‘cuz I think I might be ON to something. I think I may have been going at it all wrong. Instead of looking at things I “DID”, I needed to think of things “NOT to DO”. . .

So rather than remain bitter towards the socially-elite, I’ve decided to BECOME one of them by following a “list” of things I’m almost 30% POSITIVE will be not only “MY” key to success in everything I try to accomplish by the time I get around to “NOT DOING” them, but “YOURS” as well. . . I’ve spent an exorbitant amount of time trying to figure out ways I could have done things differently. (and it seems even LONGER trying to introduce this list to you) It’s kind of like “reverse-engineering” my failures. . . or maybe it’s not kind of like that at all. . . whatever.

Your “NOT to Do” List

• Do NOT “Emote”. . . I have found that one of the KEYS to at least LOOKING YOUNGER than the “Rich Buttclowns” out there, that end up getting EVERYTHING in the WORLD handed to them on a “silver platter”, left to them along with a sizable trust fund, by a dead Great Uncle, that they didn’t even have to meet – let alone “put up with” every Christmas – getting “loaded” in your garage and backing out of the driveway to go get more beer, running over your first and most cherished dog “Checkers”, before ending the night passing out and wetting your bed. . . Woah! Wait. . . Where was I? Oh yeah. . . You may be able to prolong your chances of “making it” in today’s competitive “Something ACTUALLY Working Out For You Market”, by simply looking “younger” than those that seem to “HAVE WHAT YOU WANT”. . . Think about it. These “Richies” shell out MILLIONS every year for plastic surgery and I have YET to see one of these “Freak Shows” turn out well. There are TWO ways to accomplish this. You can either be blessed with “good genes” like “I” was OR another way I’ve found to accomplish this by NEVER SHOWING EMOTION. Think about it. . . No “laugh” lines. No “frown” lines. No “wrinkles”. It also comes in handy, when you are trying to avoid becoming drawn into or “entangled” in an unwanted “conversation” as in the following scenario:

Elderly Wealthy Woman: (lying in a pool of blood in the supermarket) Oh Dear! Someone HELP me! I’ve slipped on a broken bottle of Miracle Whip, cut myself severely and now seem to be bleeding to death! You!. . . YOU!. . . Won’t you come here and HELP ME?!

You: (showing NO outward signs of emotion) Uh, I’m looking for ketchup. . . looks like you’re on your own grandma. . . (stepping over her crumpled and tangled limbs) Excuse me. . . I have a coupon.

Elderly Wealthy Woman: (trying to cling to your pant leg as you pass) You heartless little BASTARD!

You: (careful not to raise your voice) Eh, eh, easy lady. . . I am purchasing some ketchup, that’s all. . . good day to you.

. . . See? It’s as easy as that! No muss. No fuss. No wrinkles! It also illustrates the point, that being “wealthy” isn’t everything. . . neither is being “old”. Didn’t do HER much good, did it?

• DO NOT give up on your DREAMS. Unless they are “violent”

  ones. . . then you probably need to have someone you “Trust” to talk to. . . but DON’T tell a cop. Try someone else. . . like a “pet” or . . . something “pet-like”. They don’t tell other people outside of their immediate social circles. You’re pretty safe with a pet. If you decide to tell a “person”, tell someone that is “dying”. . . but not someone that is “dying at your hands”. . . well, actually then it doesn’t really matter. The point is, you should NEVER give up on your “Totally NON-VIOLENT” dreams. . . they could still come true. . . maybe.

• DO NOT concede to ANYONE or ANYTHING. By definition conceding means acknowledging; often reluctantly, that you were either incorrect or even WORSE, admitting that there is an alternative to your way of thinking that is somehow BETTER. . . THAT is a kiss of death. If there is ONE THING that I’ve learned in my life (there are actually 5 or 6) it’s that you should know a “little bit” about EVERYTHING. . .

  You can fake the rest. If for any reason you are in a conversation and find yourself “losing the argument”, simply change the subject. If the other person insists on continuing the conversation, walk away. . . unless you’re in a car. Then wait until you’ve stopped, secure your vehicle, then walk away. Unless they are driving. Then it really kind of depends on where you’re going. . . But in the end don’t “concede” ANYTHING. . . you may be a pedestrian, but at least you’ll have your pride.

• DO NOT LIVE IN BAKERSFIELD, CALIFORNIA. . . This place holds not hope for you.

• DO NOT forget WHERE YOU CAME FROM. (unless it is from Bakersfield) Actually, if “where you came from” was HORRIBLE, that’s all the better. It will give you drive and focus, so that you never want to return to the “Land of the Damned”.

  If you find yourself in “present day” life – feeling like you’re going “nowhere”, take a moment to think back to your LEAST favorite childhood memory. If you can remember a time as a child, when you were COMPLETELY MISERABLE , it can go a long way towards “perking you up” . Think of something REALLY awful. Your first ZIT and how much of a disaster it was! The time you fell down a flight of stairs on your first day of 9th grade at a new high school and how LONG it took for anyone to ever even TALK to you after that without laughing hysterically. How you sat at home the night of Senior Prom, alone, listening to Phil Collin’s “Against All Odds”

  and weeping like a little girl, because your girlfriend of 3 years decided the night before that she was going to become a WHORE and go with some guy named Brad, who played football for De LaSalle High School. I don’t know. . . I’m just throwing some PURELY FICTIONAL “random crap” out there. . . results may vary. But it will make whatever you’re going through NOW seem. . . actually, it will make all that old stuff seem kind of meaningless by comparison. . . Two birds really. . .

• DO NOT be afraid to REPLAY YOUR HAPPIEST MEMORIES OVER AND OVER IN YOUR HEAD (at least until a NEW one comes along. . . a happy memory, I mean). . . Okay, so “forget” those old “BAD” memories. I know that people say that “You shouldn’t LIVE in the PAST”. . . that may be true. But I see nothing wrong, when times are a little rough, consulting your “Mental Rolodex” to simply “fondly recall” some of your personal “Glory Days” . C’mon. . . Everybody’s got some. Maybe you had a kid. Maybe you got married. Maybe you got “divorced”

  . (Hey, nowadays sometimes either one of those can be a “win-win”) Maybe you bought your first car. Maybe you beat up your boyhood BEAST of a nemesis and bully of anyone smaller and weaker than he was, “Danny Cate” after 3 LONG years of constant terror, threats and manipulation in front of GOD and EVERYBODY at the “Clay County Fair” in Spencer, Iowa – by the farm machinery exhibit, in the fall of 1983 – quickly erasing all of those years of taunting, tormenting, and ridicule with a few carefully, yet gloriously swung body blows and uppercuts. . . or. . . maybe you bought your first home. . . whatever works for you. The point is, there were better days behind you. . . there will more than likely be a couple more ahead. . . perhaps.

• DO NOT go to your High School, College and in most cases FAMILY reunions. This just “invites” trouble. If it is high school or college, you just show up and compare notes with people you never really knew or liked that much OR if you DID know them and liked them, it just serves as a reminder that not only can you never go back again, but you’re now seriously wondering why you “went there” to begin with. . . especially with this assortment of folks that can only talk about how successful their business is doing, how many new “toys” they have parked in their driveway, when and where they are going to start their “early retirement”, etc. Then they introduce you to their NEW spouse (usually their second or third) who is “less than pleased” to be there, let alone meet YOU. . . Yikes. If it is a FAMILY REUNION, the “interpersonal dynamics” are roughly the same. However, the people involved are “less enjoyable” to be around, because you are “RELATED”

  AND because you have to explain why you are THIS BIG of a disappointment “annually” or in the case of my wife’s family, whenever the majority of the “clan” makes parole.

• DO NOT call me past the hour of 6pm EST on a weeknight and NEVER on the weekends. Just an all around good “rule of thumb”. Not only sound advice for telemarketers and creditors, but for ANYONE that wants to stay on my “good side”. (Note to telemarketers and creditors: If you want me to stop threatening your family member’s and pet’s lives all-together, you might just want to avoid calling, at all)

• DO NOT CONCEDE, about NOT living in Bakersfield. . . I can’t stress that enough. THIS PLACE SUCKS! There is such a delineation between the “Haves” and the “Have Nots” that I don’t even know where they keep the “Haves” in this town. It’s probably better that way. . . ‘cuz if I did, chances are I might do something “bad” to their homes or their spare luxury sports cars, while they were out of town on “holiday” . (I hate that word. . . and this song)

and Lastly, but not leastly. . .

• DO NOT put up with anyone’s S#@*! (by which, I do NOT mean anyone’s use of symbols in place of profanity – sometimes that is necessary) Don’t take any “guff” from anyone. . . Don’t take any “flack” either. . . Especially from those people out there that walk around as if they are somehow “divinely entitled” to something. Unless, they have the receipt or you physically witness them in the act of purchasing it, the WORLD does NOT belong to them. Don’t let anyone walk all over you. NO ONE is better than you are (well, maybe they are better than YOU – I actually wrote this list with “ME” in mind. I don’t know. Try it out. If this attitude doesn’t work out for you, it was probably a “ME thing” ) In the end, you really need to make these kind of decisions for yourself. But if it were “ME”, I think I’d work on not taking crap from anybody. Might help your self-esteem. . . can’t hurt it any.

. . . Well. . . that was it! What do you think?. . . Pretty thorough, huh? But what if you don’t equate “SUCCESS” in Life with what seems to be at the bottom line of all of life’s little problems?. . . MONEY? (or in “MY” case, the lack of it) . . . hmm. . . good question. . .

If I never accomplish ANY of the goals I have remaining; with what little time I have left, at this “advanced stage” of my life, at least I can say I did “this” . . . wow. . . that now seems so very sad. . . You know, looking at it now, I think I might need to come up with a different list. . . I think I might have a few “wrinkles” to iron out. . . but they ain’t from “smiling”. . . I’ll let you know, when I get it “ALL FIGURED OUT”.

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!

Peace Out. . . Later

D A N

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Dear Reader: (If you’re still around) I’ve been pulling some things out of “storage” of late…some stuff that a bunch of you may have never had the chance to read the first time around. I thank you for your patience as I’ve been “busy” pursuing the almighty dollar and keeping my wife and kid fed and sheltered. It’s been an interesting year thus far and I “PROMISE” to be back soon with some new stuff…In the meantime…let’s take a look back to my days in Bako, shall we?…Yes…we shall…back soon…Peace to you and yours… ~danof89

(Please note: To avoid any controversy, the part of “God” in this
bit, will be played by “a Dude”. The “video” containing my “news story” has also been removed (as it was on a “loop” and I was unable to edit it without leaving you – the reader- subjected to both listening to -and looking at me, over and over, for what must have seemed like an eternity. . . You’re welcome. However, I will be adding “video spots” to “compliment” my blog in the near future. So YES, you will be given ample opportunity to judge and ridicule me very soon.) Thanks – danof89
Without pointing fingers and naming names, it has been brought to my attention, that I sometimes come across as a “tad bit cynical”. I think that is the most unfounded accusation and stupid pile of “horse mess” that I have heard in my life. I will eventually get around to refuting that claim (someday) but first I need to tell you why I am a “tad bit skeptical” aboutA Bright Future for Humankind
 . 
Let’s be up front and honest. . . We are a disaster. Being a believer in Creationism, I tend to look at “US” as a HUGE and drawn out Science Experiment gone awry. I think “The Artist Formerly Known as GOD”
 sat down with his chemistry set and started tinkering. I think he’s BEEN tinkering. At a couple points, during the course of the experiment, he has gotten upset with the results and scrapped the whole idea. Then, like any good Mad Scientist, he decided to START ALL OVER AGAIN (flood or NO flood). I am not one to question the mastermind behind such things as Internal Organs, the Dallas Cowboys, Dr. Drew Pinsky or Casual Fridays - but I need to know something. . . I think it was Dr. Drew (among other fake TV doctors) who’ve stated on more than one occasion that, “The Definition of Insanity” is continuing to repeat negative behavior, over and over, expecting different results”. So am I saying I think God is “Insane”? NO. . . I think he has been trying to give us the “Benefit of the Doubt”. But from where I sit, I am beginning to “Doubt the Benefit“. He’s allowed us to make a real mess of things around here, but being the “Eternal Optimist” (literally) that he is, he keeps giving us “One More Chance”. . . Being HUMAN, “I” don’t tend to be quite as forgiving. . . but I’m working on it. . . 
That’s why, my “faith” was put to the test last weekend. 
There was a “burglary” at
my church. The “chumpstain” or “chumpstains” involved made away with a riding lawnmower and two rototillers, from a storage shed behind the church. As of today, I am uncertain of the details involved. But I AM certain of the individuals involved. Whoever decided that it was somehow “OKAY” to steal from a church should

• have never been born
• have been born with the knowledge that stealing is WRONG
• have possibly been born, but have been unaware where my church keeps their lawn care machinery
• have never been born (did I already say that?)

I am also uncertain why my church was “targeted”. (No, I’m not) The church I attend is small. When I started going there (about 6 years ago) its congregation primarily consisted of “Older People”. That was fine with me. I’d personally been “away” from the church for a number of years, honing my skills at being a “Wicked Evil Mess”
 . Having perfected the art, and subsequently not finding it quite as fulfilling as they make it out to be on TV or in Moving Picture Shows…

via YouTube by whitandthomas

 

- Keep yourself hooked up to an IV “spike” of lethal painkillers 24 hours a day, seven days a week – until you end up becoming a shell of your former self and die alone – becoming a “Punchline For the Ages”

- Depend on NBC for “Reliable Quality Programming”, whose Flagship Late Night Show boasts a host that has no socially relevant or redeeming quality.

P.S. DON’T call the Bakersfield Police Department, unless you have actual information about the case. Also, please don’t report the couple in the picture shown at the top. They were nice enough to pose for police sketches -they are legitimate working models (hand models). . . I can just see some reader from overseas calling and saying, “Ya. . . I saw da’ mower in Dusseldorf”. . . unless you really did 


P.S.S. Please note I do NOT speak for the other members of the church I am affiliated with. The views expressed herein are mine and mine ALONE. In fact, they kind of “keep their distance” sometimes.

 

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Hey Guys. . . I’ve been busy over the past couple of weeks. I’ve been trying to get the New Site up and running. However, I wanted to take this opportunity to share a “rough” of the first few chapters of the Children’s Book (and Hopefully FILM) I have been working on, of late. . . I understand that this is a departure from what most of you have grown accustomed to with my usually “Snarky Bits”. . . But, I just wanted to get it out there. . . To be HONEST, I have been getting jerked around by a “Publishing Company” (I SO needed an agent) for the last couple months and thought rather than GIVE them my idea, I figured, I’d share it with you. Feel free to share any comments or critiques. . . If this ends up meaning I don’t get the idea published – at least someone saw it. . . Let me know if you think I need to keep going with this thing (at the very least – take the unscientific poll in the right sidebar – the results aren’t going to make much of a difference, but it will be “fun”). . . I will be back after Mother’s Day with a Brand New and relatively amusing “Bit”. . .

‘Til Then. . . Go Figg’r!. . .

Peace Out – Later

D A N

The Fly-By Knights – Story and Illustrations by Dan L Freeburg

THE “GIST” OF IT. . .

“The Fly-By Knights” There’s a small orange orchard nestled in a far-off corner of Northwest Florida. The farm is inhabited by a rag-tag motley collection of birds. These classic-underachievers all aspire to bigger and better things. They are sub-contracted by a parcel delivery service, headed by a stern and underhanded Eagle,named “Sal”, and his 2 “Crow-nies” (crows – “Ace and Deuce”). Our beleaguered bunch use the orchard’s converted crop duster (at night) to make deliveries. Short local runs around the Southeast. Sal decides to “downsize” and pulls their contract, calling them a “fly-by night” operation and leaving them jobless. Because of the competition from bigger companies all seems lost for our friends. Delivery comes to a halt and their base of operations (the orchard’s hangar) is stripped (by Sal and the crows) of all packages, SAVE ONE. Left behind, among the old orange crates, is found a package marked “TOP SECRET”. Its address. . .the White House. Thinking this their last chance to save their business, our crew decides to make the special delivery themselves. They must fly their broken down plane,against the odds. A rough Everglades, an impending Hurricane, a meddling former-boss Sal, who puts them in further peril when he notifies the military and the President of an “unauthorized” plane heading for Washington. Not wanting to look like he dropped the ball, by non-delivery, Sal makes it look like the crop duster has less than good intentions. The military scrambles to send fighters to intercept the plane. The nation is put on “lock down”. Unbeknownst to anyone involved up until now, there are other problems beginning to take shape. In the waters off the east coast of the United States. A small submarine controlled by a Rogue Evil Commander (Abidab Ahdoo) and his crew have been sitting and waiting with plans of his own for our nation’s capitol. He’s also been watching the drama of our heroes playing out via the internet. Thinking this the “perfect” diversion, the Evil Commander decides it would also be his best opportunity to carry out a diabolical attack. The nation watches as our heroes unwittingly become news on every major syndicate. The nation watching spellbound. Because of faulty communication equipment aboard the old, small plane, the pilots mistakes the fighters jettisoned to stop them, as a convoy meant to escort them personally. Just then, the Evil Commander decides to seize this opportunity to begin an attack. . .”Feathers Fly”. Outsmarting everyone,”accidentally” thwarting the Rogue Commander’s plans and with some nifty flying-the Knights make the delivery. The Commander and his crew are captured. Sal is exposed and fired, the country is safe and the President receives the package. . . postmarked for last Christmas.(It’s July). He opens it to find his Grandmother’s Homemade Fruitcake. Oh yeah, so impressed by their bravery, grit and determination, the President names the Knights the new “Ministers of Defense”. . .

“So does that make us a Chicken Coop?” blurted Jillian, (Of Rusty, Jillian and Bill fame) and immediately upon asking, began to take her seat next to the rest.
“Woah there! Jillian,” said the president, “Don’t sit down so quickly. You were just getting interesting. What did you mean by that?”
She reluctantly rose from her seat next to her bested colleagues, “Sir, I just meant that because of the recent reductions in defense spending and declining numbers of those enlisting in the Armed Forces. . . Well sir, some think we don’t CARE anymore. That maybe we have forgotten what it is we are scared OF. I just ask – if the threat is still REAL. . . then who’s out there protecting us?”

Chapter 3 – The Chicken Coop

The bright early morning sunrise rose to greet the crystal blue summer sky. A few white wispy clouds drifting lazily on the horizon. The sounds of crickets chirping in unison, then fading, then chirping again. It was warm, but not too warm. A light breeze blew through the trees of a small orange grove. Beside the grove stood an old barn, at least it looked like a barn – save the large over-sized air sock perched atop its facade. Painted in large, red letters above the door was a sign. It read: “Lendell Fester Farms”. Below it, in much smaller letters was an addition in a different shade of red and not quite as neatly scribed, that said: ” . . . & Knight’s Airborne Delivery Service. A low hum, echoed in the background then began to grow louder. . . and closer. . . An old dilapidated water tower barely stood next to the barn now turned “hangar”. On the narrow walkway someone stood, looking to the horizon with a pair of binoculars. Trying to spot where the noise was coming from. Suddenly she caught the plane in her sights. Then she noticed something, no “someone” hanging from the bottom. “THUMP. . . thu. . . thu. . . THUMP!” Two Big Orange Webbed-feet struck the tops of the orange trees, dangling just inches from the treetops.

“Dag Nab it!” THUMP. . . thu. . .thu. . . THUMP! “OUCH!” A small biplane skimmed the tops of the trees over the orchard, carrying underneath its landing gear, a reluctant passenger. An ANGRY, reluctant passenger who desperately wanted to be anywhere else at that precise moment in time. “Put it DOWN!” cried the terrified (for a platypus) platypus hanging from the plane’s underside. “Larry! Put it down NOW!” The pilot of the aircraft, a unphased (for a pigeon) pigeon, seemed oblivious to his passenger’s plight, unaware of his friend’s screams. . . or perhaps unsympathetic to his dilemma. “These instruments are all wrong,” the pilot said to himself, in an accent reminiscent of an English stage actor (a BAD one), “If I weren’t so humble, I might find another flying organization to align myself with. One more deserving of my expertise”.

“No, need to get snippy Gail,” he said to the girl on the water tower, “I can handle this one. I just zigged, when I should have zagged. No problems here.”

“Not YOU,” yelled Larry, “I wouldn’t put YOU down, dear boy!”

Below them, the “ground crew” prepared for an Emergency Landing. Gail, a golden and “well-kept” (for a chicken) chicken, had now joined the rest of the group from her “Bird’s Eye” view at the “Control Tower” – a beaten up water tower, near the hangar. Karl, a hungry (for a buzzard) buzzard and Dwight, a plucky (for a duck) duck also stood below, looking around for anything that might help their buddies get out of this mess.

Karl, slowly began to creep away from Gail towards the hangar. “Where do you think YOU’RE going Karl?” Trying to hide a knife and fork he was holding behind his back, he coyly looked at her, “You know they’re my friends, right?”

From inside the hangar, a clanging noise sounded. Like someone was knocking together pots and pans. Karl, hearing this started towards the sound with curiosity and more than his fair share of hunger pangs. “Where are you going NOW?”, Gail called after him. “I’m just wonderin’ who’s rustlin’ up some grub!”, he replied, as he headed towards the noise. Through with his nonsense, Gail directed her attention towards her friends in the sky. “Are you ready!”, she hollered over to Dwight, who was finishing moving the hay into place. “Almost!” he yelled, “Tell Larry to go ahead and buzz the hangar! But NOT to hit it! When he gets to it, tell Shredder to JUMP!” Gail looked at Dwight incredulously, “Are you SERIOUS?!”, she asked. “Just tell Shredder to aim for the haystack!” Dwight had seen Karl running into the barn and wondered what “else” was going on. The banging and clanging stopped, a pig suddenly squealed and ran from the barn, looking back over its shoulder in anger. Bouncing out from the hangar’s large door (not so much bouncing, as bumbling and stumbling) nearly knocking over Karl, came a bright pink (for a flamingo) flamingo carrying a LARGE bucket filled with water. He loped clumsily towards Dwight spilling most of the water along the way and yelling, “I got an idea boss!”

They turned towards him, looked at each other. Dwight rolled his eyes and spoke, “Larry. . . give it a rest.”

“YOUR flight plan?”, Dwight yelped, “That’s rich! It’s MY turn in the rotation Larry. . .MY night to fly. . . and you don’t even HAVE ears”

“Mission?”, Dwight scoffed, “We’re a<
i> Delivery Service Larry! …And your ‘short run’ practically took all night! You got lost… again!”
“Lost?”, challenged Larry, “I assure you, I followed the flight plan I was given by your girlfriend, to a tee!”

“Speak of the temptress,” cooed Larry, “I was just informing these boys that the flight plan you furnished me with last evening was impeccably conceived.”

Dwight looked at Larry, “It’s MY night,” he whispered.

(To Be Continued?. . .)

“I’m the BEST KEPT SECRET on the WEB! But I’ve been tellin’ EVERYBODY”

iv>

LOLBlips – The Fly By Knights – Story and Illust… //

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…I think there’s a pretty solid reason why I haven’t gotten as far in life as I’d hoped, at this stage in ‘the game’. I’m becoming even more aware of the reason with each passing day. Every job opportunity that has passed me by. Every promotion that I’ve seen given to someone else less qualified and definitely with a lesser “grasp” of what it takes to do the job better than it was done previously, by whatever schlub had it before this newest “Schlub-On-The-Rise” ascended to the rank of “Schlub Supreme”. I’m not a “Yes Man”.

yes man funny scenesyes man scenes like the bar fight, jumper song and tape face Watch hilarious subscribe comment!

via YouTube

…I know, that’s pretty hard to believe given my current social status,wealth and with all of the proprietary business acumen that I have acquired in my years of “Doing Whatever it is that I DO“. Truth be told, I’m not the kind of person that easily waffles or conforms to whatever is decided by a ’5 Star Panel of my Peers’, in the workplace to be our “Mission Statement”. In fact, I have a “Mission Statement” of my own, that I’ve taken with me to every career I’ve had in my adult life. (There have been many) Try as I might, I have yet to have ONE of my places of employment adopt my policy for their own. Leading me to believe that “WE” might just be on to something.

My Mission Statement is fairly simple and easy to remember. I’ve tried, many times, to present this“groundbreaking and revolutionary” first step towards a business model that would simplify the working world, increase productivity, drive sales (everything is sales-trust me), bolster profits, boost morale and generally get this country off the snide in it’s struggle to become a “Power” on the world stage once again. In my futile attempts to share this little “nugget” of information, I have been vilified, scoffed at, condescended to, belittled, ridiculed, berated and otherwise turned away as “a troublemaker”.

via YouTube by TheInstantUpdate

…That is all before I can ask where the ‘meeting’ is being held. When I ask if I can bring an easel and a PowerPoint presentation, you can usually be rest-assured that the memo sent to me, including the time and date of the meeting, was somehow lost in transit . “Why?” Do these people not know that I am merely trying to provide a service to the organization that I have most recently aligned myself with, in hopes that we can all do a better job and get an actual “Sense of Satisfaction for a Job Well Done” , at the end of each work week? I’m at a loss.

Let me state for the record right now, that if for some reason the job I am currently with turns out to be the one I am working at when I am 79 years old, (Meaning, the one before the one when I become a WALMART greeter or a McDonald’s Coffee Topper-Offer), there are going to have to be a ‘few’ changes. It becomes increasingly difficult day after day, doing the same old-same old, with no end in sight, when I can’t seem to catch a break from the day without being able to “laugh”. Let me illustrate my point (bearing in mind that I have no Overhead Projector, Easel or Prerecorded Audio-Visual Presentation to accompany this and am relying on you, the reader, to try to get where I’m going with this – Thanks, the Management) Here’s a ‘for instance’: I was working last week. Minding my own business. Not making eye-contact with anyone, so as to avoid that whole, “I give a crap about you and what goes on in your pathetic life” VIBE to any fellow coworkers. I was turning in my time sheet, just trying to get the heck out of the office without being detected. I just wanted to go home and start a weekend free from the ‘Worries of Work’. I was headed towards the door, when what happened?. . . No, I’m asking, I’ve tried to block it out of my memory and that’s a little ‘mental preservation’ game I play to try and block out uncomfortable experiences. Well since, you weren’t there and since it’s only been a few days, I’ll tell you. My ‘Immediate Supervisor’ (meaning the person that jumps all over my ass ‘immediately’, if I do something wrong) cornered me. Actually, I believe she took an ‘angle’ to head me off at the exit when she saw that I had every intention of putting that god-forsaken hellhole out of my mind for “just a couple days”. She put herself between me and my escape (in tow, a squirrely little woman, whose name escapes me right now- Vivian? Lilian? Martha?) No matter, she had me boxed in and the only way to get around her was through her or to listen to what she had to say. “Hi Dan!” I internally winced. I did so internally, because when I wince outwardly, it can be devastating for all those involved. “Hi,” I managed. “Long Weekend Planned?”

via YouTube by mandurahomebiz

…She bellowed. “Not long enough,” I said. At this point I was trying to decide if “through her” might be a REAL option. I also started to think, “Long Weekend Planned? What does that even mean? Am I being fired? Aren’t all weekends typically 2 days (3 with a Holiday)?” I also felt myself beginning to ‘outwardly’ wince and hoped that the end of this nonsense would be coming soon. Luckily, it did. “I’d like you to meet your Newest Supervisor Gwen (that’s it) or have you to met?”Now the next words were those of my Newest Supervisor and I really shouldn’t be held responsible for my response given the circumstances. “I Don’t Believe I’ve Had The Pleasure,” said Gwen, sheepish grin – extending her ‘dead fish’ hand for a cursory, emotionless and clammy greeting.

via YouTube by mseifullah

…What do you think my response was? I wanted out of there pretty badly. I wanted to get home and be with my wife and kids and put my work week to bed. This little person whom I’d never met before had been introduced as my Newest Supervisor (meaning the one who makes SURE my ass is jumped all over ‘immediately’, if I do something wrong) and she greets me with, “I Don’t Believe I’ve Had The Pleasure”. As most of you know by now, I’m not one to mince words. I may use too many of them. I may abuse them in a way that leaves them unrecognizable. But I tend to speak my mind and at 4:00 Friday afternoon my mind said, “Well, If You Haven’t, I Wouldn’t Go Around Advertising IT, or it’ll NEVER happen for ya’ “. Immediately upon these words leaving my mouth, the earth began to slow in its rotation. I became very warm. And I can swear that the break room, meant to have a capacity of 250 people, had now just shrunk and I knew if I didn’t get out the door, all 3 of us were going to be trapped in there. Her dead-fish hand recoiled into its stubby little alien arm. She turned about 15 shades of red, which with her pasty skin and auburn hair, really wasn’t the best color for her. At that PRECISE moment my ‘Immediate Supervisor‘ made an immediate decision. One that I am actually considering places her in the ranks of a supervisor worth ‘a toss’. “Oh, that Dan,” she said, “He’s such a cut-up!” They turned around, Gwen looking over her shoulder as if to say, “I’ll have my eye on You, Troublemaker”. What’s New Toots? What’s New?

via YouTube by wowinspiring

. . . So in closing, were I have ever been “invited” to give a presentation to any of the various organizations that I’ve been affiliated with over the course of my illustrious and eclectic career path, it would be relatively short and sweet. “Stop Being So Damned Serious People!” I really don’t have time to be kissing anyone’s butt. I’ve got a wife and kids at home. I have bills to pay. I’ve got to bury as much “Real Life Crap” in the “Landfill of Disappointments in My Life” , without adding “Work” to my problems. I don’t “Want” to take work home with me. I want to leave it in my ‘inbox’ and not even think about it until I remember it was due two days ago. And if I do? Forget I mean. . . Then you shouldn’t have given it to me to do in the first place. There are loads of people out there who will be more than happy to kiss your butt. I’m going to have to apologize ahead of time, for saying, I’m NOT going to be one of them. I want to Live Life and if that means I’m going to be making a little less, but maintaining a sense of Dignity, then I think I can “cut-back” a little on things like Food and Electricity .

As far as “My Mission Statement”? I told you it was easy:

“I am not going to sit on my ass as the events that affect me unfold to determine the course of my life. I’m going to take a stand. I’m going to defend it. Right or wrong, I’m going to defend it.” ~ Cameron - “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”

via YouTube by Kassius11

D A N

 “I’m the BEST KEPT SECRET on the WEB! But I’ve been tellin’ EVERYBODY”

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