OUR KIND OF CROOK.

Corruption among politicians is nothing unusual. Most politicos’ hands are out more than a group of alcoholics trying to raise money for a case of Ripple.

There is a new definition of “Chutzpah” when it comes to political corruption and thievery – the poster boy for that kind of larceny is ex-Congressman Randall “Duke” Cunningham. Firstly, a warning flag should have been raised when he insisted on being called by his nickname “Duke”. Grown men who advertise themselves by a nickname in quotes are putzes. You see it all the time on billboards for car dealers – “Ed ‘Bubba’ Shmendrick will sell you the best used car he can steal. Come on down.” “Charley ‘Wingy’ Fosdick wants to invite you to a charity Bingo game establishing scholarships for ‘un-wed lap dancer single mothers.” Get the idea? Duke Cunningham used his Navy fighter pilot background to win election 10 times to congress. He was so super-patriotic that he wore his military medals while taking showers. Cunningham was a powerful member of the House Appropriations Committee which awards hundreds of millions of dollars to defense contractors. That was akin to making a pedophile a Cub Scout leader.

Duke Cunningham was convicted of corruption in office and has been sentenced to 10-years in the slammer. “The length, breadth and depth of Cunningham’s crimes are unprecedented for a sitting member of Congress,” said the Judge. That statement probably would have gotten old Duke elected in his district for another term. This top-ten political crook didn’t hide his venality. While in Washington he lived on a yacht named “The Dukester” docked near Capitol Hill and given to him as a gift from a defense company president. The Dukester had the balls to claim that he saved up money to buy the boat by collecting empty soda cans.

What sets Cunningham apart from any other political felon is that a “bribe menu” was found prominently displayed on his office wall. Duke was an organized thief who presented a bill a fare whenever a defense contractor wanted millions in contracts sent his way. Duke took great pride in his honest dishonesty. He didn’t adlib bribes like some petty ante burglar….he had it printed on the finest stationary he could get for nothing.

His bribe menu detailed how much it would cost contractors to essentially order multimillion-dollar government contracts. Among the a la carte items on the bribe menu was an escalating scale of bribes, starting at $140,000 and a luxury yacht for over 15 million Defense Department contracts. Each additional $1 million in contract value required a $50,000 bribe plus an autographed picture of big Duke in his Speedos. The rate dropped to $25,000 per additional million once the contract went above $20 million. Dukester didn’t want to be seen as a pig.

His menu also contained some pie a la mode items like: luxury vehicles, homes, antique furniture, Persian rugs, Nehru jackets, hard-to-find Chia pets and a Pat Boone CD.

Randall “Duke” Cunningham was a credit to swindlers all over the world. I’m sure he will nickname his 9X6 cell The Dukester Two.

SELL, BABY, SELL....

As a way to attract tourists many cities have created sayings extolling the city’s virtues. “See Naples And Die,” was a famous one and a play was written with that name in the title. The idea was once you’ve seen the sun set over Naples there was nothing else you needed in life. Catchy saying although it would have been true if you drank the water there or insulted a Neapolitan woman by complimenting her mustache.

There are many other boasts that cities use in order to bring in the tourist dollar or euro. Girocaster, Albania: “You haven’t lived until you’ve had sex with one of our sheep.” Boznia Herzegovina: “Visit our War Criminals Hall of Fame.” Copenhagen, Denmark: “Draw a Cartoon of Mohammed and Watch Your Home Burn.” Jonestown, Guyana: “Drink some Cool-Aide with Jim Jones.”

Australia has just launched a new $133 million advertising campaign which seeks to attract international tourists. Although the Island is a popular resort location the Australian government wants even more visitors. They even tried building their own Tsunami hoping to get tourists’ washed up on their beaches but the experiment failed. Remember the highly successful “Put another shrimp on the Barbie” tourism campaign of the 1980s, which featured singlet-wearing comedian Paul Hogan? That lured an estimated 250,000 American tourists to Australia. When the gullible Americans found out a shrimp wasn’t to be put on some sexy, nude nymphomaniac named “Barbie” they grabbed their crotches and yelled, “Barbie this!” and stopped coming.

Something new and outlandish had to be tried. Selling tourism became an obsession. With tongue in cheek and fingers crossed – the ad campaign takes a new tack – instead of loudly singing Australia’s blessings the ads swear at tourists. “Where the bloody hell are you?” asks one TV ad. The campaign will target potential tourists in China, Japan, India, the United States, Germany and Britain. Some advertising maven, who must have relatives in the Mafia, believes that you can threaten and curse tourists into parting with their money.

One of the ads says, “We’ve poured you a beer and we’ve had the camels shampooed, we’ve saved you a spot on the beach – where a poisonous jelly fish will fry your bloody gonads.” “Chicken to swim with the sharks? Bloody sissy.” To the Puritans in Australian society who object to the word “bloody” being used many more believe the advertisements are very effective. “This is presenting Australia as we are. We’re plain-speaking, we’re friendly and we’re usually drunk out of our skulls.”

If this abusive comedy campaign works it might open new arenas for Don Rickles and wannabe insult comedians. Put down sales pitches might become the norm. Even if Prime Minister John Howard might not understand being called a “hockey-puck.”

LOVE AND MARRIAGE

Marriage should be a celebration that every woman, man and family looks forward to. Some couples expect too much from a marriage. I know one young prospective bride who complained to her beau that his proposal wasn’t very romantic. His reply was, “Hey, you want marriage or romance?”

Even though 50% of marriages in the U.S end in divorce it’s still the dream of every young girl to get married, have children – not necessarily in that order – and live happily ever after. There are as many reasons for people getting married as there are people. Love, companionship, financial considerations, spur of the moment decisions, running away from an unhappy situations, etc., but no one ever gets married expecting the marriage to fail. The Geezer knows from where he speaks – my marriage was the happiest 18-minutes of my life.

Occasionally one hears about an unusual set of circumstances that leads to tying the knot. Of course, different cultures have different rules and standards where marriage is concerned. In the ancient Druid religion young couples were urged to get married if they both could sing, “Our Love is Here to Stay” without drooling. The Visigoths insisted that the bride and groom had to be able to spell,
“vamoose” backwards. The Viking’s would not sanction a marriage until each party admitted to being a “nincompoop” and a worshiper of the Viking God, Kirk Douglas.

A young 7-year old girl living in New Delhi was forced to wed a stray dog as part of a ritual to ward off the “evil eye” on her and her family. Young Shivam wasn’t even allowed to pick her groom from the pack of strays – her father and mother choose her betroth for her. It isn’t even mentioned whether she was attracted to the flea ridden mutt – arranged marriages are often like that. Just ask Madonna’s second husband.

The reason for the emergency nuptials was that her upper teeth appeared before her lower teeth – considered a bad omen by members of the Santhal ethnic group to which she belongs. That seems a pretty drastic reason to get hitched – what if she was born toothless and remained like that her whole life. A female Gabby Hayes, if you will.

Her father said his daughter married the dog only to “remove the evil eye,” a superstitious belief that some misfortune could befall her and the family. I guess he doesn’t consider his daughter married to a filthy canine a misfortune. What dowry did she bring to the marriage, a bag of kibble? Can you imagine their honeymoon? They probably chased a rubber ball all night and scratched their ears with their hind legs. Wonder if there was a pre-nup? Perhaps the groom got possession of their dog chews.

Family and friends participated in three days of traditional ceremonies and festivals that are part of a Santhal tribal marriage. They swore their vows to the local dog catcher whose name was Sabu. Everyone in the tribe insists that 7-year old would be free to marry a man later. Yeah, right, what man would propose to a girl who hadn’t had her distemper shots and wasn’t recently wormed? I guess love and marriage takes different forms all over the globe. I just wish the happy couple a nice first litter.

A HUNTING WE WILL GO.....

I am not one to subscribe to the idiot notion that, “guns don’t kill people, people do.” That’d be like saying germ warfare doesn’t kill people, the wind carrying it does.” How about, “beauty is only skin deep?” Show me a sexy, beautiful spleen and then we can talk.

I don’t get hunting as a hobby. There is nothing attractive by sitting in a duck blind filled with cold, dirty water and feeling your gonads shrink to the size of a bee-bee waiting for an innocent duck to show its quack. I’d rather stick my wet nose in an electric socket that spend the day next to some fat, tobacco chewing, crotch scratching hunter. I don’t care how pretty she might be. Besides, camouflage doesn’t match my eyes. The only gun I will ever own is one that when you pull the trigger a flag pops out of the barrel and has “Bang!” written on it.

Despite the publicity that Vice President Dick Cheney received from shooting a hunting buddy in the kisser I want no part of it. If the Veep couldn’t tell the difference between a five o’clock shadow and some quail there is something very wrong with the idea of hunting for harmless animal. For those who point out that man has always hunted for food, I say there also is often a beverage involved.

Hunting is damned dangerous. Every year we read about hunting accidents in which innocent people are mistakenly shot and killed. There are hundreds of them and that’s not counting innocent trees and fences. Some farmers have gone so far as to paint their animals so that cross-eyed, drunken shooters won’t mistake their cow or lama for a goose. I suggest that those farmers just paint a target on their pets because it’s obvious that most men and women hunting couldn’t hit one.

Golden Township, Michigan just recorded one of those accidental hunting mishaps. A man was shot and injured when his hunting partner mistook his ELBOW for a squirrel. Think about that – mistaking an elbow for a squirrel. Gives you goose bumps doesn’t it? I wonder if there’s a hunting season for body parts? Does one need a license while stalking a gall bladder?

The victim was wearing the latest in camouflage clothing except for an orange hat. His clothed elbow was all of him that was visible when his friend approached from behind the tree and fired his weapon blasting the elbow apart. Ask yourself this question, does an elbow really look like a squirrel? The wounded chap was rushed to the hospital where doctors told him that he would never pitch in the big leagues again. In that he had never thrown a baseball in his life the man cried hysterically for a while but recovered.

The shooter asked his friend if he could have and mount the useless elbow on his trophy wall next to a bullet ridden sign, saying, “No parking,” and a head of lettuce which the shooter got between the eyes…or salad as the case may be.

For those of you who still believe that guns don’t kill people I think you’ll admit that they’re getting a bit close for comfort. Is it too unreasonable to suggest that people who insist on hunting prove that they can operate a weapon safely and pass an eye examination? Except, of course, if you are Polish – when asked to read an eye chart most Poles will say, “Read it, hell I know that guy.”

KISS AT YOUR OWN RISK!

One of the biggest problems with America is our permissive attitude toward law breakers. Too many bleeding hearts want to coddle criminals instead of the old saw, “If you can’t do the time don’t do the crime.” Personally, I believe in the death penalty…but only for minor traffic offenses.

One of the major problems is that our Courts have backlogs of cases and judges as well as prosecutors take the easy way out and let defendants plead to lesser crimes just to get them out of the way. Our jails and prisons are overcrowded and are spawning grounds for career criminals. Maybe if we changed our methods and instead of sending these depraved nitwits to the slammer sent them instead to Club Meds we’d all be better off. After one visit to the Club Med in Cancun, Mexico I went straight and never again cheated when saying Kaddish.

Even a law and order guy like me recognizes that sometimes the judicial system makes mistakes. For instance Joan Rivers’ plastic surgeon has not had his license ripped up and he forced to take the Picasso paintings out of his waiting room. Joan thought they looked smashing and decided to look just like them. However, occasionally a law remains on the books that seems harsh and could be considered cruel and unusual punishment. A guy living in Salem, Oregon was charged and sentenced in one of these borderline calls. In what seemed a possible overreaction, he was sentenced under Oregon’s three-strike law to life in prison. He got his third strike, a felony sex offense, for delivering an unwanted kiss.

You heard right, buckos, this exterminator, was inspecting the home of a Salem woman when he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her. The woman pushed him away, but perhaps overcome but the vapors from the insecticide he took hold of her once again and sucked her on the neck, stopping when a male neighbor, wearing a chorus girl costume walked in. God knows what those insecticides contain and besides shrinking the brain might make all women look like a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader?

He was convicted of first-degree sexual abuse, which under Oregon law requires the forcible touching of the “sexual or other intimate parts” of another person. Wow! A simple wet kiss or giving a hickey was enough to send this simpleton to jail for the rest of his miserable life. He argued that the neck is not an intimate part of the body, but the Oregon Supreme Court disagreed. Apparently they have declared necks, elbows and belly-buttons off limits.

“In ordinary social intercourse, one adult does not touch the neck of another adult outside of intimate relationship, at least not without some unusual but reasonable justification,” the panel ruled. Talk about a bunch of over-achievers. The court also disagreed that the sentence was cruel and unusual, noting that the three-strike law was not aimed at the gravity of a particular crime but at habitual offenders. It turns out that this guy had been convicted of nine prior sex offenses before the kiss. Among his other sexual offenses was: licking a postage stamp while it was still in the stamp machine; making obscene calls to a farm for deaf turkeys; and dancing nude with a rake.

The lesson to be learned here is watch who you lip-lock or neck-bite while in Oregon if you are an exterminator or an albino.

SEX IS A 4 LETTER WORD.

Do you know anyone with strange or unusual sexual proclivities? I know the Geezer is asking a personal question, but do you? Normally what a person does in the privacy of their bedroom is no ones damn business.

I confess to having met men and women with what society would consider abnormal and grotesque sexual habits. A fellow who could only get off when he wore feathers and a beak; a young woman who liked to sit on an air hose; a couple who couldn’t have sex unless someone was sitting on the foot of their bed flicking chickens. Whatever floats your boat, right?

Sometimes authorities butt into people’s sex lives and pass judgment which brings ridicule to the “offender.” They make a big deal out of some flighty and perhaps foolish compunction. With 24/7 news coverage these incidents make headlines bringing shame, scandal and contempt against the poor transgressor. This unwanted publicity often leads prosecution and even conviction. I’m not talking about sickies like Michael Jackson or disgusting pedophiles. They should be thrown into jail and not allowed to wear make-up or a nose job.

A man living in Battle Creek, Michigan is fighting against having to register as a sex offender. The poor guy insists that having to register will make him a laughing stock and bring unwanted notoriety. Besides, he doesn’t think he did anything unusual and insists that the Michigan state sex offender registry is intended to keep track of people who have committed crimes against humans. He claims that his pleading no contest to a sodomy charge involving a sheep excludes him from the registry.

Yes, friends, this strange man who was sentenced to 2-1/2 years to 20 years in prison maintains that he is not a violent person and would never assault children. He took the 5th amendment when asked about farm animals. “The prosecutor is being real hard on me for what I did,” he said. “But I should not be treated as a child molester.” He also swears that he’s usually not into sheep (no pun intended) his sexual interests usually involves chickens and cabbages.

It seems when he first spotted this sheep it was love at first sight. He found her beautiful and very sexy. Since he was rather horny he didn’t have time to buy her a box of Sees candy but did present the sheep with a red rose. He then proceeded to have sex with the sheep but was caught by the animal’s owner, who refused to answer why he was carrying a box of bonbons, when he walked into the passion pit.

DNA samples taken from the animal matched this man’s genetic material. Rather than apologizing for his actions he angrily blames himself for not wearing a condom. This convicted lunatic has prior convictions for burglary, home invasion and wearing a hen suit to church. He was on parole for burglary at the time of the sex crime. When asked if he was worried about the reaction from fellow inmates he shook his head and said, Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

DON'T TANGLE WITH YOUR DANGLE

There is very disturbing news out of London’s St. Peter’s Andrology Center. For those of you ninnies who don’t know what Androgen means – it is a male sex hormone that can give rise to masculine characteristics. Obviously Webster’s dictionary has hired comedians to explain words. “Rise” and “male sex characteristics” is funny even if it’s sadly underachieved in too many cases

Since time immemorial men – all men – have had a hang-up – with the size or lack of size of their male member. There’s no sense beating (funny how many words seem dirty when discussing this) around the bush, men are obsessed with it. Let me be very clear, the Geezer is not among them. I am very comfortable and satisfied with my penis size. I know that most of the women I have been with were just being playful when they pointed and broke into giggles when I disrobed. I even forgave my ex-wife when she began singing, “Is that all there is?” on our honeymoon.

Newspapers have pages of advertisements for penile enlargement. The internet is clogged with incessant spam hyping penis enlargement surgery. Why? You don’t find the same obsessive sales pitches for vagina enlargement or reduction. Men are obviously suckers (there I go again) when it comes (forgive me) to accepting their endowment. They're so insecure that they make up hundreds of euphemisms for their penis: “Johnson, wad, Hebrew national, salami, Herman, big guy…and even purple headed love machine.” Women don't do that. I've never heard a woman say, "Want to kiss my Little Bo-Peep?" Many scientists postulate that males refuse to recognize it for what it is: “a, teeny-tiny, useless, flaccid piece of skin that never rises to the occasion.” Once my scientist mother explained all this to me I accepted that truth and hid in a clothes hamper until I was 25-years old.

The St. Peter’s study found that most men who have had penis enlargement surgery are not satisfied with the results. “For patients with psychological concern about the size of the penis – particularly if it is normal size – there is little point in offering them surgery because it makes no difference,” said the chief urologist at the Center. “Makes no difference!” The saddest words the victims…ur,…I mean, post-operative patients could hear.

“The average increase in length is 1.3 centimeters (or half an inch) which isn’t very much and the dissatisfaction rate was in excess of 70 percent,” he said. He added that spam e-mails advertising penis enlargement surgery were inaccurate and gave men unrealistic expectations. Amen. Law enforcement authorities should get after these inaccurate, exuberant and prevaricated claims. Wouldn’t you consider an operation if it promised you, a: ten-foot pole, a huge Cyprus tree, another leg, a Tom Jones extension, a bundle of joy, a fungo bat,, etc., etc.

Rather than having surgery, he and his colleagues, who reported the findings in the Journal of European Schmutz, said that the men should be referred for psychological counseling. “We now know that the majority of these patients are dissatisfied after these procedures. Research should be directed toward non-surgical options.” Among them being considered are female blindfolds and 3-D magnifying glasses.

The bottom line is, accept and be satisfied with what and who you are. If your nakedness causes hysterical laughter consider it a blessing and a talent, but turn the lights off fast.

A NICE PLACE TO DRINK.

Where would civilized society be without laws and rules? As much as we all like to be free to do what we want, men and women really need boundaries, order and regulations to function well. Otherwise we’d act impulsively, rashly and impetuously…kind of like a Sicilian Cousin’s Club. We’d live in a society doing what it wants, when it wants without any thought of the consequences of our actions? Sounds like fun doesn’t it?

If left to our own devices we’d all act on our whims; without regard to our fellow man. It’d be complete bedlam - brainless, imbecilic, absurd, and witless…much like the U.N. Security Counsel.

Sometimes society and authorities go too far in trying to regulate our behavior. Laws are passed and ordinances put into effect that is not only ridiculous but onerous. Nebraska has a law that calls for the penalty of 12-years in prison for mispronouncing the word “diphthong.” Maine has an ordinance on the books that prohibits the fondling of one’s loafer in a movie theater. Alaska prohibits the removing of a dog’s vital organs with a stick. I mean, come on – do we really need to clog up our courts with prosecutions like these?

Occasionally, a law is passed that not only makes good sense but protects everyone. Pierre, the state capitol of South Dakota, (which was named after a French circus midget who wrote the drama “A Mother’s Gums.”) – has done just that. The state’s lawmakers decided that it’s better to have drunks on horses and bicycles instead of behind the wheel of an auto or truck. They decided to exempt horses and bikes from drunker driving laws, meaning intoxicated people who either pedal or saddle up to get home after a night at the bar cannot be arrested for drunker driving. Obviously South Dakota politicos don’t waste their time on unimportant issues like: balancing the budget, homeless people, lousy schools, crime, and school prayer. No, they felt this new ordinance will make the roads safer for other motorists and if they dealt with the State’s real problems they’d all get migraines.

“If I have to choose…a problem drunk with 1,500 pound or 2,000 pounds of metal coming at 50 miles a hour or a two-wheel Schwinn, I’m gonna win and my family is gonna win,” said a lawmaker. “I can’t believe that a horse is gonna intentionally run into anything.” Obviously, this state senator has never been to a rodeo. Prosecutors opposed the bill, pointing out that there have been arrests in several counties for riding horses while intoxicated. They don’t say what the horses were drinking.

There was even a case in which a drunken rider passed out and his horse was struck by a car when the nag failed to signal for a left turn. There have been no reported incidents where a horse was run over by a drunken five-speed bike. In order to calm everyone’s nerves, legislators said prosecutors still can charge drunken riders on horses and bicycles. Instead of drunken driving, they can be charged with disorderly conduct and riding side-saddle without a license.

I like progressive and far-thinking communities and may move to Pierre as long as I can’t be arrested for drunken walking or line dancing.

CLOTHES MAKES THE MAN....

Many adults worry that we are coddling our youth today. That kids have it too easy and have become lazy, complacent and spoiled. The old adage “spare the rod and spoil the child” has gained support in many parts of the country. What some fellow named Rod has to do with anything stumps the Geezer but I’m for free speech as long as it doesn’t start with, “you know?”

It is true that many young people seem to have the attitude that the world owes them much like athletes and viewers that watch Dancing with the Stars. Kids only seem to be interested in I pods and computer games. Their lack of ambition and concern about what’s happening in the world doesn’t bode well for the next generation. They don’t seem involved in important issues like unemployment, the gulf between the ‘haves and have nots’, the homeless and whether American Idol is fixed or not.

Occasionally, a young boy or girl steps up to the plate and takes a principled stand on an issue. When they do, they should be applauded and encouraged. A 17-year old lad living in Hasbrouck Heights, New Jersey has done just that. It seems that the Hasbrouck School, where he’s a senior, decided to institute a “no-shorts” policy. School officials felt that wearing shorts showed a lack of respect. 17-year old Michael Coviello felt that the ban on shorts didn’t make sense and as a protest he decided to show up at school in a dress. Apparently he felt the district’s dress code forbidding shorts but allowing skirts was discriminatory. He first showed up wearing a costume-style dress but high school officials told him to go home and change. They didn’t like the fit and even suggested that he buy everyday dresses and skirts at a retail store. It seems the school officials had nothing against him wearing dresses as long as they were purchased a JCPenny.

But after a few days of dressing like Grandma Walton he was sent home again but with a note from his principal saying if he wore a dress, kilt or skirt, he could no longer attend school. Young Michael howled like someone had stepped on his dresses’ hem and he decided to take the matter to a higher power. He enlisted the help of the American Civil Liberties Union – a group that seems to have nothing better to do than get involved in silly and often unpopular causes…like defending the right of Nazi’s and skinheads to screw up our society.

The ACLU met with school officials and they finally reached an agreement and compromise. Instead of rescinding the “no-shorts” policy the geniuses decided to allow the 17-year old senior to wear dresses to school. Evidently the wolf whistles he was getting from football players didn’t faze this principled patriot. He claimed that he was doing it for all student and a few transvestites. His only problem now is whether to wear panty-hose with his outfits?

DEAR OLD MOM.

Mothers are the most unappreciated and overworked humans on earth. They have to juggle more things than an Enron accountant. Keep a boring, overweight, dull husband happy. See that their off-springs don’t make The Most Wanted List. Moms seem to be at fault if their children are neurotic, anti-social and destructive beings. Every shrink hears the cries about “Mother made me what I am. It’s her fault.” Bull-crap: stop blaming and start taking responsibility for what you’ve done and become you pinhead.

And, what do Mother’s get for raising kids, keeping their husband responsibly happy and running a household? One lousy day a year, “Mother’s Day,” we buy her a lousy box of Sees candy and take her to an early, inexpensive dinner at Applebee’s. The hell with that. It’s because of this neglect that I never gave birth to any children.

Mother’s worry themselves sick about their kids. Their work is never done and rarely acknowledged. Just the other day a Tanzanian mother went into hysterics and almost committed suicide because she felt she failed her newborn. Why? The mother found her six-month-old baby suckling a dog’s milk. She had left her son on a mat while she went to hang clothes in the yard of her Dar Es Salaam home. This lady didn’t expect her husband to buy her an expensive washer or dryer…she was content with the old smash the wet clothes on a rock routine, bless her.

When she came back to find him suckling on the dog, she screamed and rushed to her brother’s house to borrow a poisoned blow dart. After many hours the brother managed to convince her dog’s milk was harmless. “Since that day the baby is doing well and hadn’t had diarrhea or any sign of illness,” he said. “The baby was satisfied, since his belly was full.”

No one asked the dog’s opinion about being used as a milk spigot. The mother didn’t even throw it a spare bone. The baby hasn’t had many ill-effects from the incident, although the baby now goes around sniffing the bong-hole of all the family members; will only play with a chew-stick and loves to chase a ball. The little boy’s left leg goes crazy when his stomach is rubbed.

It’s obvious that this poor Mom panicked for no reason although her reaction was understandable. It’s good to report that Mom and her son Spot are doing just fine and he is expected to be house-trained in a couple of weeks.

DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, BUSTER....

Are you one of those people who have trouble with authority figures? Cops, teachers, employers, in-laws…and like that? Many men and women’s blood pressure shoots up higher than Whitney Houston after she makes a buy. Their fists clench, mouth gets tight, eyes narrow, breath shallow at the sight of someone in uniform, someone who has a superior attitude and the power to make us obey orders gets in their face? The ability to get under control and calm a temper is the difference between disaster and squeaking by without too much damage.

There are a few folks who really get hostile and crazy-like when facing that sort of situation. I, for one, once lost total control and screamed and yelled at this so-called authority figure. I was near apoplexy…I called him every name in the book – even the soft cover version, questioned his parenthood, and invited him to step outside and put up his dukes. When he refused I called him a coward, a fink, a bastard and a poltroon. I didn’t know what the hell that meant but read it somewhere on a can of chili. He tried to calm me but I was uncontrollable. Unfortunately, he was an IRS inspector questioning some minor manner on my income tax statement. He said he was going to disallow a deduction for a clip-on bow tie that I was claiming as a business expense. But, I refused to compromise and after screaming at the poor guy he left. Instead of settling, I put my foot down and swore I would fight his claim to the Supreme Court. Still waiting to hear from then Court but my bankruptcy has been going along nicely. I’m also getting used to living in that cardboard box.

I guess I do have a problem with authority figures but a man in Portland, Oregon makes me look like Mother Teresa. It seems he was driving with his son at the wheel and was pulled over by a state trooper on suspicion of drunker driving. His son angrily denied being loaded but couldn’t explain why he was steering the car from the back seat and why he was driving the wrong way on a highway.

The trooper only detained the young driver, after he became aggressive but then the father, a passenger in the vehicle grew hostile and began cursing out the cop. He yelled that he hated cops and wasn’t going to be pushed around by some idiot in a damn uniform– he then charged the arresting officer several times before the trooper knocked him to the ground. Instead of cooling down he removed a prosthetic leg and threw it at the officer, hitting him in the chest. If that wasn’t crazy enough, he removed a second leg, threw it at the trooper but missed. He would have continued his assault but ran out of legs.

Father and son face multiple charges including assault on a public safety officer. After sobering up the father admitted to having a problem with authority figures but still insisted that his son could steer the car from the back seat safely and that the police were picking on them because they had a bumper sticker that said, “Honk, if you’re uglier than shit!”

SAVE A CHICKEN.

In an attempt to follow truth in advertising guidelines the Geezer has to admit that he isn’t an animal person. Most people are but not moi. I once went out and spent a lot of money on a tank filled with rare, tropical fish. They were nice to look at but lousy conversationalists. After a while it became apparent that something was wrong with the fish. I called a vet and after examining them his diagnoses was that they suffered from rheumatism and had to live in a dryer climate.

This experience kind of disillusioned me with regard to pets and animals. The Old G. is a rarity since most people I know have too many yappy dogs, unfriendly cats and even a few vulgar speaking parrots. The truth is I am probably not conscientious enough to own a pet. Owners have huge responsibilities to care and feed their furry friends. Their pets basically run their lives and become members of the family. None of that good stuff is of any attraction to me. Shallow be my name.

However, I have been known to shed a tear when hearing about some pet that rescues its owners from a burning building or goes for help when its owner is in a dangerous spot. That’s just terrific and those brave, intelligent pets should be rewarded, praised and given a raise. Do pets get allowances?

It’s obvious, even to me, that pet owners bond with their animals and would sacrifice their own lives to protect their charges. This probably comes from the unquestioned and total love that they get from these beasts. I can dig it but from a distance. I just read about a pet lover from Arkadelphia, Arkansas who I think went beyond the call of duty. First, let me state that denizens of Arkadelphia are not noted for their brilliance. Otherwise they would spell Philadelphia correctly. Here’s what happened:

A women living in this metropolis saved her brother’s exotic chicken, Boo Boo. Did you know that a chicken can be “exotic”? What exactly does an exotic chicken do? The fan dance? And, why would anyone name a chicken, Boo Boo? See what I mean about the folks living in this hamlet? Back to the story: this woman administered ‘mouth-to-beak” resuscitation on the fowl after it was found floating face down in the family pond. I guess sometimes a chicken does have lips, just not her own.

The woman, a retired nurse, said she hadn’t had any practice with CPR in years, but that she was interested to see of she “still had it.” If she didn’t she certainly got it after lip-locking the chicken. “I breathed into its beak, and its dad-gum eyes popped open,” she said. “I breathed into its beak again, and its eyes popped open again. I said, I think this chicken’s alive now.” Can you imagine the shock Boo Boo must have had finding some old, wrinkled nurse French kissing it? My eyes would pop open, also. Can you imagine anything more disgusting than breathing into a stupid chicken’s gullet?

The woman claims that she was pleased to find that the bird she saved was an “exotic,” not just an ordinary chicken. The chicken is called Boo Boo, because she is easily frightened. So, it turns out that she saved a “chicken” chicken. The damn thing probably thinks it’s a duck and that’s why it went swimming. Call me shallow and superficial but doing CPR on a bird is crazy and sickening. I may never order chicken in a restaurant again.

VOTE FOR ME, I'M CELIBATE

There’s nothing a politician won’t do to get elected – except maybe tell the truth. Candidates for office will promise the voters anything and everything in order to get their votes. We are all familiar with men and women running for office kissing babies. Why they think that lip-locking some screaming, dirty diapered tot makes them deserve your vote is beyond me?

Politicians have promised many things – a chicken in every pot; a pot in every chicken; I will never tell a lie; I didn’t have sex with that woman; people should know their President is not a crook; read my lips – and on and on. Those promises have been broken quicker than a container of eggs dropped from a 747. But, the prize for political chutzpah goes to Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi who is famous for his ambitious promises. He once promised the voters that he was going to open a church for retired accordion players called,”Our Lady of Spain.”

Berlusconi fighting for his life in Italy’s next general election pledged: not to have sex before the vote. He promised “two and half months of complete sexual abstinence.” The simple reaction should be who the hell gives a damn? His sex life or lack of it is nobody’s business. What is everybody’s business is that your administration is honest and doing a good job. The truth is that his administration has been plagued with bribery, dishonesty….and over-eating.

The twice-married Berlusconi, 69, prides himself on his physical fitness, and after a hair transplant he looks younger now than he did when he was wept to power in 2001. In that election his theme was, “you get what you see.” Apparently, he wasn’t talking about his hair transplant and face lifts.

He has often been criticized by commentators and feminist groups for his use of sexual innuendo and sexist jokes. Does Silvio really believe that Italians admire a man enough to vote for him who doesn’t shtoop or hump? Extra marital affairs are common and totally accepted in Italy. The only person who should be interested in his celibacy pledge is Mrs. Berlusconi. She didn’t know anything about it until she read it in the papers. Her reaction was biting her forefinger and giving her husband more Italian curses than is heard on a year’s worth of The Sopranos.

After the dust settled down and Silvio realized the havoc he caused he swore that he was just joking and didn’t mean to be taken literally. Tough titty, pally, your old lady has just bought a new chastity belt in Gucci.

IDIOT OF THE YEAR.

Are you familiar with the phrase, “Everything being equal”? Well, it never is. Pick a subject and I’ll prove to you that things are never equal. Take looks – If you’re lucky you might look like Brad Pitt and if you’re not, Quasimodo. Height? Some women are tallish like runway models and others look like one of the Munchkins in the Wizard of Oz.

Intelligence is never equal, either. There are PhDs and people who can’t blink their eyes in unison. I guess luck has lots to do with it but the inequity of smarts has even more. We all know and admire men and women with brain power who accomplish marvelous things in life and other poor souls who resemble 7-foot infants with oversized heads. There is nothing sadder than being, knowing or hearing about someone truly dumb and stupid. For instance: people whose talent for sparkling conversation ends with, “you wanna pass me them raisins?”; The wife who boasts that her hubby spent the night playing whist with a plate of chives; The man who proudly introduces his wife as a anchovy trainer. The parents who can’t wait to tell you that their son refuses to read Moby Dick because he thinks it’s a social disease.

My candidate for dumbest person of the Year is a guy living in Orem, Utah. Now, being a native of Orem already puts you last in your class when brains were handed out. Maybe you were even absent that day? This dufus called police to report the theft of a quarter-pound of marijuana. The cops recovered the bag of pot and invited him to come to the Public Safety Building to identify it. This really happened, folks.

The 18-year old moron identified the pot as his and when police pressed him on how can he be so sure, the teen majestically showed the officers where he had written the first stanza of “Hora Staccato” in crayon on the bag. He was promptly arrested and booked into the Utah County jail for possession of marijuana with intent to distribute. The boy had called police after returning home from his finger painting class and found that someone had broken a window that was open, crawled into the house and heisted the pot. The lad also told officers that earlier that day a man called him about buying some marijuana, but after telling the man he had plenty, he said he was on his way to work and told the caller to call back later.

The incarcerated youngster gave the police the man’s name and he was subsequently also picked up with the grass. Orem, can proudly boast of two dumbbells taken off the street in one fell swoop. Some will claim it was bad luck all around but the lack of grey matter certainly had something to do with solving the case.

On the next remake of “Dumb & Dumber” – and there is sure to be one -- I nominate both of the Orem boys to star in it.

STICK 'EM DOWN.....

Vincent ‘the Chin” Gigante and John Gotti must be spinning in their graves at the state of criminals today. Gone are the days when gangsters had honor and lived by a set of strict rules. Nobody wears fedoras anymore except Jack Abramoff.

The Mafia that we loved and feared is as gone as baseball players who didn’t use steroids. They’ve done away with blood oaths for fear of contracting AIDS. To be considered a ‘made man’ all you have to do is receive a parking ticket or be convicted of a drive-by slapping. People used to laugh at Jimmy Breslin’s fictitious “Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight” nincompoops believing that mobsters could never be that dumb. Well, think again because the hoodlums today are “Dumb & Dumber.”

Santa Fe, New Mexico is a beautiful, artistic high desert community which doesn’t lack for much except brainy and sneaky clever crooks. Perhaps because the city is a high rent district they spawned low rent thieves. A gang of lawbreaking ninny’s decided to make a big score. They broke into the Santa Fe High School through a roof hatch intending to steal everything not tied down. They first tried to get in through a heating vent but failed, leaving $2,000 in damage. The first question that comes to mind is why would anyone break into a High School? Where they after erasers, chalk and biology text books?

What they decided to steal was 20 rifles from the school’s ROTC program. Police first speculated that they were sent by anti-gun nutcases trying to make a statement. The ROTC uses the rifles in drills and ceremonies, but “they’re almost like props” said the Commandant of the ROTC. The theft was discovered when he arrived on campus to prepare for an ROTC competition later that day. It seems the rifles were made out of wood and are no good to anyone but the ROTC unit.

The geniuses weren’t smart enough to realize that wooden rifles wouldn’t bring much on the black market except at The New Mexico Home for the Silly. No self respecting Pawn shop would give the gang anything but a few wooden nickels for the effort. The City’s fathers are so embarrassed by the theft that they have taken ads in newspapers all over the country inviting a better class of criminals to live in their city. Have they thought about evacuees from New Orleans?