RUNNING FOR OFFICE ON TIPTOES...

What could possibility be lower than politicians? Think. Maybe Rasputin’s dwarf. Or Grandma Moses’ labia on her 95th birthday. Close but no cigar. How about pedophiles? Aha, gotcha, eh?

Pedophiles have been getting lots of press because of the spate of child molesters wearing white collars in the Catholic Church. It’s an ugly story but sadly it seems one of the prerequisites of joining the priesthood is not only a love of Christ but a limp wrist and a love of Liza with a Z. Pedophiles are loathsome, abhorrent and detestable humans. Therefore it is natural that pedophiles and politicians should join bondage handcuffs.

Dutch pedophiles are launching a political party to push for a cut in the legal age for sexual relations to 12 and the legalization of child pornography and sex with animals. Some of the more conservative “peds” were holding out for sexual relations with 3-year olds and stuffed animals. Holland was always thought of as a quaint provincial country that made hookers standing in windows an art form. But apparently it is more liberal than Jane Fonda when it comes to political parties.

The Charity, Freedom and Diversity (NVD) party officially registered for the upcoming election. “We are going to shake The Hague awake!” they loudly proclaimed. The membership is seemingly made up of defrocked priests and other assorted degenerates. The party wants to cut the legal age for sexual relations to 12 and eventually scrap the limit altogether. I guess their thought is that instead of buying a baby a rattle or rubber nipple a subscription to Playboy might be in order.

“We want to make pedophilia the subject of discussion,” one of their spokesman said, adding that the subject has been taboo since the 1990s. The Netherlands already has liberal policies on soft drugs, prostitution, and gay marriages…not to mention the annual no-hands herring eating contest.

The NVD’s platform also favors the private possession of child pornography. The broadcast of pornography should be allowed on daytime television because they believe Dr. Phil is more dangerous to watch. Toddlers should be given sex education and youths aged 16 and up should be allowed to appear in pornographic films. Sex with animals should be allowed although abuse of animals remains illegal, the NVD said. I guess that means of a sheep says, “No” it must be released and not be considered being coy.

If the NVD gains any seats in the Dutch parliament it might be a forerunner of a political party in the United States. Instead of a donkey or elephant as its symbol it might have a rubber sex doll. These sickos should be beaten like a rat in a wastebasket but are they really any more embarrassing than some of the dregs we have in Washington?

HAND ME MY CLOAK.

Remember the fairy tale about “The Emperor’s new clothes”? For those of you who stopped reading after “Jack & Jill went up the hill to fetch a basket of methamphetamines”….the legend has it that the Emperor made it an official holiday for his subjects to view his new set of clothes. When he showed up bare ass naked they all applauded and swore that he was wearing the most gorgeous outfit since Elton John’s marriage dress. The point of the story is you see what you want to see. Very much like the White House’s view of their job performance. It’s all smoke and mirrors.

As Gomer Pyle used to say, “Well Gooollly,” what seemed like a nice fairy tale might finally becoming true. Scientists in England and America are working on the ability to make humans invisible. I know it sounds as implausible as NBA basketball players giving up their tattoos but these researchers think they can develop an “invisibility cloak” just like the one Harry Potter inherited from his father. The only thing the Old Geezer inherited from my pop was a case of Beano. Old Murray had more gas than the entire state of Texas.

The key are special manmade materials, unlike any in nature or the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. These materials are intended to steer light and other forms of electromagnetic radiation around an object therefore making it invisible. A cloak made of those materials, with a structure design down to the submicroscopic scale would neither reflect nor cast a shadow. “You could actually make someone invisible as long as someone wears a cloak made of the material.” Such a cloak doesn’t exist, but it’s not far away – perhaps within two years.

The Pentagon supports the research, giving obvious military applications of such stealthy technology. Of course, the Bush White House approves because then they can claim that Iraq’s WMDs were there all along but covered in this invisible material.

Can you imagine if this ability becomes available to the rest of us? Private Dicks could walk right up to a cheating husband without being seen; you could sneak up on your wife, tap her on the shoulder and drive her crazy when she turns and finds no one; it’d be a great way to lose weight – the average fat slob could smell delicious, fattening home cooking and pull out the TV tray, open a can of beer and stuff his fleshy face with absolutely nothing. Just watch those pounds drop off. Nudist colonies would be filled with fully clothed men and women.

I can’t wait for these invisible cloaks to come out. Leading designers would have their own expensive lines of invisibility. I hope they come in seersucker. It’ll match my eyes.

BARK UP A WRONG DOORBELL

I would love to share with you some of the wackiest reasons I’ve found for people being arrested or running afoul of the law. It makes me laugh which isn’t easy since I was struck by lightening while playing the steel drums.

Here are some of my favorites:

*Melvin, from Idaho, was arrested after he assaulted his mechanic. Seems the guy told him that he couldn’t repair Melvin’s brakes so he made his horn louder.

*Dorothy, who lives in New Jersey, was fined for playing whist with a plate of chives. That’s against the law in Newark.

*Harry was arrested for poor personal hygiene. He had so much dandruff that when he shook his head it looked like a snowstorm in Buffalo.

*Ida was fired and fined a month’s salary from a telemarketing firm when it was proved that she couldn’t sell a blood clot to a hemophiliac.

The reason so many people find themselves in trouble is that they are not conversant with many of the obscure and out-dated laws still on the books. Many of the statutes were written by Cotton Mather and his “merry band” of hangman. Let’s face it, most legal scholars, judges and lawyers can’t even lift the dusty and arcane tomes containing these long forgotten rules. I’m sure that somewhere in some spider-webbed law library there’s an ordinance which makes it a capitol crime to watch re-runs of CSI Dubrovnik.

Case in point: An Amsterdam family found themselves between and rock and a hard place with Dutch authorities. No, they weren’t observed sticking anything in a dike – although their lesbian daughter does like her vibrator. They were handed an 80 euro ($97) bill for the Dutch dog tax. In the Netherlands, dog owners are required to pay the “hondenbelasting” an infamous annual tax. Hey what’s good for the goose is good for the Giant German Schnauzer. Only one problem; this family doesn’t own a dog. They have a barking doorbell.

It was the second year in a row the family had a run-in with authorities over their doorbell, which plays 15 different barking noises. “Last year it was a huge effort to convince the inspector that we didn’t have a dog, and now it’s happened again.” Suspicious authorities thought the family was trying to pull a fast one and watched from an apartment across the street to see if they took their “doorbell” for a walk or bought lots of kibble from the grocery.

Why would a family have a barking doorbell? To keep away unwanted solicitors or neighbors wanting to borrow a spare wooden shoe? Although both those reasons are acceptable the reason these Dutch “fruitcakes” have a barking doorbell is in honor of the family’s German shepherd which died several years ago. Can you imagine what their doorbell would sound like if they had a pet elephant?

DON'T SHOW ME RED.

Are you an “A” type personality that has little patience and wants things done when you want them done? You’re probably one of those men or women that conduct their life like it was a tool box. Everything neatly in its place. If this sounds like you welcome to the world of frustration and disappointment. Let’s face it; the world doesn’t work that way. You will live your life depressed at your inability to control things. As we all know, depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

One of the things that is sure to bug us “A” type folks is when we are in a rush and hit every red light in the city. It never fails. Jump in our car and speed off for something important – like buying more invisible ink – by the way, how does one know when they’re out of invisible ink? – and we will be faced with a red light on every street corner. It’s like “the Big Traffic Cop in the Sky” is determined to ruin our day. The thing that really pisses me off is that when I’m taking a leisurely spin in my Hudson Hornet and couldn’t care less when I get to my destination I’ll never see a red light. It’s like the red traffic lights went on vacation to Serbia. The only ones in sight are green. Not even a lousy yellow light to tease me. That ever happen to you?

Well, an “A” type guy in Longmont, Colorado finally did something about the red light problem. He obviously lost his patience with the traffic light problems he faced everyday and decided to beat the system. I love this guy. Here’s what he did. He bought a device on eBay to foil his red light enemy. No, it wasn’t Britney Spear’s used diaphragm, although he was tempted. He purchased a doohickey that lets him change traffic lights from red to green. Ain’t that the best? He figured that the device he bought for $100 helped him cut his time driving to work. “”I guess in the two years I had it, the thing paid for itself.” Spoken like a true neurotic. Oh, in case you were wondering what he did that was so important – the guy owned a rubber band store.

He was finally was caught after the police said that they found him using a strobe-like device to change traffic signals. His excuse was that he might miss a customer that needed rubber bands. The device called Opticon, is similar to what firefighter’s use to change lights when they respond to emergencies. It emits an infrared pulse that receivers on the traffic lights pick up. Apparently, he strongly believed that rubber bands are as important as 3-alarm fires.

He was cited after city traffic engineers who noticed repeated traffic-light disruptions on certain intersections spotted a white Ford pick-up passing by whenever the light patterns were disrupted. Can you believe the chutzpah of the city workers taking the time to track down our “hero” when they should have been eating donuts and coffee waiting for the next customer to bribe them?

Despite him being on America’s Most Dangerous Criminals TV Show I want to send flowers and bow down to a fellow “A” type who had it up to here with those stupid red traffic lights. When we’re in a hurry you’d better look out, Bubba, ‘cause we not stopping for no stinking traffic light.

I CALL THE FISH SHLOMO

I confess to being a name freak. Finding the derivation of people’s names is a hobby of mine. I have a few other hobbies but none of them are legal. The stranger and crazier the name to more excited I become. Years ago, of course, family names were often taken from the trade or business they were in. Examples: “Goldfarb”; usually meant that the family had something to do with gold or jewelry. “Finsterwald”; which means black forest in German meant that the family probably lived in trees and wore blackface. I haven’t been able to find the source of the family name “Whack-off” but I’m working on it.

Aren’t you curious about why a mother and father would name a child –
Yogi, Bubba, Bo, Yetta, Muffin…and my all time favorite Mona especially when the family name is Nucleosis. I was immediately fascinated to read that scientists have concluded after years of study that Dolphins, like humans, not only recognize names but name each other. “Hey, here comes Shlomo. Let’s splash water in his spout.”

Scientist have long known that dolphins’ whistling calls include repeated information thought to be their names, but a new study indicates dolphins recognize these names even when voice cues are removed from the sound. For example, a dolphin might expect to recognize its name if called by its mother – “Zabadiah, come to dinner but wash behind your ears first.” But, this new study found most dolphins recognize names – their signature whistles – even when emitted by others including a Boy Scout leader.

This whole concept is mind boggling. Could these scientists be saying that dolphins might have human language? If this is true do they also have accents? Do dolphins that swim in the Caribbean sound like Bob Marley? What about dolphins in the Gulf of Mexico? Do they talk like Charo? Are they going to need a guest worker’s visa in order to swim in our waters? Talk about wetbacks? Are they going to be forced to use English as a first language? What about a green cod? I apologize for that pun. Shame on the Geezer.

It’s all fascinating news. It might take man’s superiority down a peg to contemplate that fishes can talk to each other. Humans might not be the only things on earth that can carry on a conversation, curse or stutter. Hold it. A stuttering dolphin could be the basis for a new TV sitcom.

IT'S FOR YOU - GOD'S CALLING.

Heeeeeeee’s Baaaaaack! Like a bad case of genital herpes he’s returned.

I just got off the phone with Pat Robertson the TV evangelist…and major league lunatic. Pat, as everyone knows, is not dealing with a full bible. He keeps making strange, unbelievable announcements about his ‘conversations’ with God. It’s nice that he has someone to talk with besides the fella looking back at him in his mirror.

Among Pat’s more famous pronouncements were: What is the speed of dark; what happens if you get scared half to death twice? That if he was elected President he would make all government employees dress like hens. Some have urged him to wear a straight jacket but then he wouldn’t be able to collect the money he cons out of shut-ins.

Anyway, Pat’s latest was a “deity to deity” chat with the Lord. And the “big guy” told him many interesting things: not to drink too many diet colas, never wear spats in the shower, if Pat ever waltzes with a clothing dummy he should be sure to lead.

Seriously, if Robertson did rap with God you’d think the Lord would tell that he’s sick and tired of all the wars being conducted on earth; that there is no reason that anyone should go hungry; that governments should stop acting like bullies and love their fellow man; that he put us on the planet to care for and love the weaker of our species. Things like that. Instead, according to Robertson,
God told Pat that he should warn all of us that this coming year we should look out “because the coasts of America will be lashed by storms.” Storms on our eastern shores…talk about a shock. Bet the folks in Florida, Louisiana and Mississippi will be surprised.

The Lord also apparently whispered to Robertson that, “there well may be something as bad as a tsunami in the Pacific Northwest.” Holy shit! We’d all better start taking swimming lessons. Why do you suppose that God spoke to Pat about these climatic dangers and didn’t call The Weather Channel? Maybe he doesn’t get Cable up there.

I envy Pat Robertson. Imagine having a tie-line to the Lord. Pat, of course, has lost much respect with most thinking Americans. As a child he must have been repeatedly struck on the head with a frozen Stouffer’s lean cuisine. Here’s an idea, Pat, rather than using your calling card to speak to God why don’t you use e-mail and not tell us about it? Vishtay? Oh, I almost forgot, God also told Robertson that he hates eating Brussels sprouts because they give him gas.

DON'T SHINE HER ON.....

Just when you thought things had calmed down and that life, as we know it, was good something happens that brings us back to reality. It could be any outrageous statement or venal act by someone who is as dumb and mean as a dinosaur. One non-candidate once said, “I would kill for the Nobel Peace Prize.”

If it’s not a single man or woman who commits some despicable crime against their fellow human beings it’s guaranteed that some large company will step into the breach and shock everyone. It could be one of those conglomerate financial institutions that charge ridiculous interest rates and when confronted point to “the small print” on their contracts that an eagle couldn’t find. Personally, the Geezer only borrows money from pessimists – they don’t expect it back.

Many professions are breeding grounds for maliciousness. Take lawyers – please! (Forgive me Henny Youngman.) The truth is 99% of lawyers give the rest a bad name. The same can be said for car salesman, auto repair shops and, of course, politicians. I usually include psychics and fortune tellers in this group. Question: Why do psychics have to ask you your name?

But the outrage of the year comes from Flint, Michigan. If you thought that Scrooge was just a Dickens’ fictional character think again. You won’t believe the following horror story. It seems a 41-year old woman living in lovely Flint had an electricity bill of $1,662.08 for the month. The first question one should ask is how can an average citizen possibly accumulate a monthly bill of over one thousand dollars? Perhaps she is a mad scientist and creating a new breed of Frankenstein; or purchased a used electric chair and is doing away with her neighbors. A grand does seem a trifle high but whatthehey…..

Consumers Energy Company who provides electricity to the poor woman became outraged when they received her payment for the bill because she had the nerve and chutzpah to only send them a check for $1,662.07. Did she think she was dealing some rubes or hicks? CMS Energy Corp. wasn’t about to take her insulting payment lying down. No, siree, Flint! She tried to screw them out of a penny and they were sore as a chicken trying to lay eggs on a hot griddle. Did they chalk the penny shortage to an oversight and mistake? Hell no! CMS cut off the power to this deadbeat and blacked her house out for seven hours. Vishtay? They cut off her power over one lousy penny. When she called the power company in a panic – who knows maybe Frankenstein was stuck in mid-step while doing the samba? – she was informed that unless she paid the penny, she tried to con them out of; the power would not be turned on again.

“I went down there, paid my penny and got a receipt,” she told the local press. Shortly after, the electricity was turned back on. Let’s recap: she paid a monthly electric bill of $1,662.08…er, I mean, she paid $1,662.07 and was treated like a member of Osama’s family by the stupid energy company. I guess those penny’s add up and if you collect enough of them you can buy a penny candy which now costs a dollar.

I hope the Michigan legislature and Flint City fathers tell CMS Energy Corp. to stick electrodes up their asses and turn on the electricity. So much for a kinder and gentler country.

NUT CAKE OF THE YEAR....

Like the song says about New York, “If I can make it there I can make it anywhere….” is a truism. New York is a wonderfully fascinating city filled with movers and shakers, the finest restaurants, stores, theaters and a host of sight-seeing wonders. It is also filled with some of the craziest people on God’s earth. You will see more sickos standing and having earnest conversations with department store mannequins than any other place in the world. Some of them even don the latest fashion in aluminum pointed hats.

With over 8 million residents, Manhattan doesn’t get rattled too often by strange behavior. Although many still believe Charles Manson was misunderstood and was just going through a phase. The truth is that the denizens on most street corners look like the day room patients at your average mental hospital. Given all that – a 23-year-old New Yorker just broke the record on “strangeness” in the Big Apple’s history.

I can hear you saying what in the world could he have done to warrant the tribute of “nutcase of the Year”? He admitted to having a foot fetish. No, big deal you say? Maybe not in the privacy of his hovel but on New York subways -- a definite no-no. He tried to kiss, fondle and lick the legs and toes of more than 70 women over the past three years. In a handwritten confession to police this toe licker says his aim was “to make them laugh and smile and open to talk with me.” I’ve heard of “breaking the ice” but this is a new one in trying to meet people.

He was arrested after attacking a woman on a subway in lower Manhattan and charged with forcible touching, sex abuse and unlawful imprisonment – the latter charge referring to his habit of grabbing his victim’s legs and not letting go. He faces up to a year in jail if convicted and has been released on $6,000 bail until a court hearing in June. “I get on my knees, bow, grab their feet, kiss them. I grab their hand and tell them “You’re so beautiful. I’m not worthy,” he wrote. “I do not give them my real name. If they ask I will tell them my name is Anthony, Jason or Careem.”

He said his motivation was to get to know the women, but he recalled that often they would move away when he tried to “taste and touch them.” “Some women had kicked and screamed,” he wrote. “I’ve done this to about 70 women.” He admitted that he lives at home with his parents and two sisters and was fired from his last job with a sightseeing company. Duh! He probably drove the bus around shoe stores all day.

What the Geezer wants to know is when the cops finally arrested this lunatic did they sight the various laws like, “unlawful and forcible touching” or did they just beat the crap out of him before he tried to lick their boots? Let’s face it, New York might be a wonderful city but not if you ride the subways and have clean feet.

ARE THEY OR AREN'T THEY?

Probably all of you sit around the hearth or at town meetings and discuss the age old question, “how does one become gay?” Is it an acquired habit or is one born gay? Do men and women visit a Gucci sale and instantly become homosexual? Is it the result of listening to too many Barry Manilow CDs? What?

A new study has just been released that is sure to cause great conflict and contentious feelings among religious, conservative homophobics. Not that those homophobic bigots need much to get them upset. At the mere mention of Richard Simmons’ name they begin to foam at the mouth and behave like a roach had crawled into their spleens to die.

When they read the conclusions of this scientific study they will all be able to play a rectal harmonica. The controversial study was put out by the Stockholm Brain Institute and published in the National Academy of Sciences magazine. Swedes are famous for the consumption of herring but not as experts on homosexuality. According to their study, lesbians’ brains react differently to sex hormones than those of heterosexual women. Apparently Lesbians’ brains react like those of heterosexual men. A year ago, this same group reported findings for gay men that showed their brain response to hormones was similar to that of heterosexual women. In both cases the findings add weight to the possibility that homosexuality has a physical basis and is not learned behavior. In other words if you see a butch-like woman riding a Harley and smoking a cigar – don’t fuck with her.

This controversial study is guaranteed to heat up the argument about whether homosexuals are born or decide to become gay because of their love of cashmere. Those that insist that homosexuals are born that way point to the famous graffiti written on some Men’s room wall…it read, “My mother made me a fag.” Someone else wrote under next to it, “Will she make me a V-neck sweater?” So the argument will continue in spite of this new Swedish report.

The research team had volunteers smell chemicals derived from male and female sex hormones. These chemicals are known to trigger responses in most adults. Heterosexual women found the male and female scent about equally pleasant, while straight men and lesbians found the female scent more exciting than the male one. Gay men, however, immediately put on Judy Garland records while sniffing the male scent and began to dance.

The results of this scientific study seem to prove that lesbians and straight men have more in common than previously thought. That includes drooling from the mouth when meeting a Hooter’s waitress. Sissy-boys, on the other hand, would rather sniff a straight man’s jockey shorts than pirouette in a tutu.

Some skeptics say this new study doesn’t mean a damn thing. That it’s all poppycock. Perhaps the answer will never be known about the possibility that homosexuals are predetermined and can’t be blamed on faithful watching of the Ellen DeGeneres TV show.

WHEN YOU WISH UPON A UFO....

It’s now official. We can all relax and rest easy. All of you conspiracy theory advocates can chill out. According to a secret report from the British Defense Agency which was completed in 2000 states categorically that Earth has never been visited by alien life forms. They obviously have never visited Florida during spring break.

The Ministry of Defense established that there is no evidence that “flying saucers” or unidentified flying objects were anything other than natural phenomena. The 400-page report, released under freedom of information laws concludes that meteors and unusual atmospheric conditions could explain UFO sightings such as bright lights in the sky. “No evidence exists to suggest that phenomena seen are hostile or under any type of control other than that of natural physical forces,” the report said. In other words they claim that there are no little green men with large heads invading our planet. What about Keith Richards, eh?
If these scientists are so confident of their proof why did they keep the report secret for six years?

“Considerable evidence exists to support the thesis that the events are almost certainly attributable to physical, electrical and magnetic phenomena in the atmosphere, mesosphere and ionosphere,” the report claims. Rumors abound that the head of the scientific study didn’t have thumbs and claimed that his name was U-2-769.

I realize that all governments try to discourage reports about UFOs and alien visits. The reason is obvious: why scare or inform citizens about unnatural, unexplainable events…like most legislation passed by Congress. Personally, the Geezer could care less if our planet is visited by unidentifiable flying objects or men from other galaxies. They don’t frighten me in the least. I have my “Star Wars” wand handy at all times. Jaba the Hut, this!

I have one question for the British Defense Ministry…if there really are NO frightening, horrifying visitors from outer space – how the hell do they explain – Pamela Parker Bowles? Huh, huh, huh?

THE DRINK'S ON ME.....

The older I get the more cynical I become. The old Geezer will evoke the privilege of many porno stars and refuse to copping to my real age. Suffice it to say, I will admit that President James Buchanan was a terrible dancer. However, I’ve become immune to some of nonsense put out by publicity people and trade groups. After much study I am convinced that there will not be a hurricane, this season, named Hurricane Shlomo. You can bet your yarmulke on that!

A report out of Ithaca, N.Y. aimed at home gardener’s claims that if they don’t want their flowers to tip over droop and hang limp. (Fill in your own genital joke) A Cornell University horticulturist thinks he has the answer: Get the flowers a little tipsy with some hard liquor. When this horticulturist made his announcement he was so soused he was laying on the floor and holding on for dear life. This botany hugger is convinced that if you make your flowers shit faced they will grow stiffer than a man who chug-a-lugs Viagra.

Giving some plants diluted alcohol – whiskey, gin or tequila – stunts the growth of a plant’s leaves and stems but doesn’t affect the blossoms. “I’ve heard of using booze for lots of things…but never for dwarfing plants,” said a senior horticulturist with the National Gardening Association, a Vermont-based organization that promotes plant-based education.

“It sounded weird when I first heard it, but our members say it works. I’m going to try it next year, just for curiosity,” said the same horticulturist. The original study focused on paperwhite narcissus and other daffodils but also had promising results with tulips. I thought narcissus where fancy boys who wore their mother’s clothing.

Intrigued that diluted alcohol might act as a growth retardant, the Cornell scientist began conducting experiments with dry gin, unflavored vodka, whiskey, white rum and gold tequila. He insisted on sampling the booze first and is now a member of A.A. His flowers, however, now sing, “One More For The Road” when he approaches.

I am tempted to experiment with my flowers and plants. The trouble is instead of having a green thumb I once over-watered a pair of shoe trees. But how much can a shot of tequila gold hurt some plastic plants and astro-turf?
Mahalo.

A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME.

It’s the hope of most people to own their own home. You know the ranch house with white picket fence, 2-1/3 kids and a fluffy dog. Sadly this has become a dream and in many cases a nightmare for the average American. The cost of homes and condos has now reached prices that are impossible for many men and women to consider unless they are Publisher’s Clearing House winners. It’s become as ridiculous as not expecting an oil company CEO price-gouging, gonif to laugh at the rest of us when he collects his trillion dollar bonus.

With real estate values through the roof, building costs out of sight, the cost of new homes has caused a conundrum for most developer. Conundrums, of course, are favored by the Vatican. Where do these real estate moguls find affordable land or buildings? Even if the real estate bubble doesn’t burst, developers are looking into new properties to convert into homes. The stranger and kookier the better it seems. One developer in Louisiana is offering underwater homes in the 9th district of New Orleans. He’ll even provide a scuba mask with each purchase.

The wildest and most interesting development in the new home front is that “not even spooky trumps location.” Across the nation, former state hospitals for the mentally ill – with dated names like “lunatic asylums” – are being converted into homes. Wouldn’t you want to live in: “Electric Shock Acres”? “Schizophrenia Shores”? “Rorschach Meadows”? “Lunatic Lane?”

Even the ominous Danvers State Hospital, once described as “the scariest building in the world” and a favorite destination of ghost-hunting thrill-seekers, soon will be home to laptop-toting latte drinking newly-weds. “There’s obviously a lot of notoriety associated with the site,” said a spokesman for the developer. “We plan on constructing 497 luxury apartments and condominiums.” I dunno about this idea. The Geezer is not thrilled with the idea of a home with door chimes that go, “Boo!”

No units are on the market yet but the owners expressed confidence that occupancy won’t be affected by the property’s jaded past, including a cemetery with some unmarked graves – one reminder of the sad history of treatment of the mentally ill. One wag suggested they make a theme park out of the cemetery. Perhaps they can call it, “Paranoid Park.”

The buildings are a little on the dreary side to say the least confessed the project’s decorator Mr. Bruce who promises to make all the condos “fun places to live.” Imagine walk-in closets for your straight jackets and flocked wall paper in your rubber room? One prospective buyer had a psychic friend of theirs go through the buildings and bless the spirits they thought were hanging around. The psychic friend was never seen again.

I wish the developers and builders good luck with their projects but personally I’m gonna pass. I just don’t fancy having a neighbor knocking on my door wanting to borrow a cup of sodium pentothal.

FORGIVE AND FORGET......

Everybody is entitled to make mistakes. The voters proved that by electing George W. Bush twice.

To forgive is a Godly thing to do. Forgive and forget. But the Geezer has a hard time doing it for the viewers of all the reality shows on TV. In the words of that great American Cardinal Mahoney….”Feh”!

I must confess to having made some mistakes in the past. Some real whoppers. For instance I urged most of my friends to put all their money into WorldCom; I voted for former Congressman “Duke” Cunningham for sainthood; and I swore in court that I was stuck in an elevator for 6-hours with Dick Cheney on speed.

A judge in the Philippines was fired by the country’s Supreme Court just because he claimed he could see into the future and admitted consulting imaginary mystic dwarfs. Guess they never heard about forgiving mistakes. “They should not have dismissed me for what I believed,” Judge Floro told reporters after filing his appeal. Floro was sacked last month and fined $780 after a three-year investigation found he was incompetent – if that’s grounds for dismissal than most of the judges in American courts would be standing on the unemployment line.

He was also charged with bias in a case he was trying when he asked a young, sexy defendant to sit on his lap when testifying. He told investigators that three mystic dwarfs – Armand, Luis and Angel (first cousins to Manny, Moe and Jack) helped him carrying out healing sessions during breaks in his chambers. During one “healing session” he diagnosed someone as having ague fever, shin splints, rickets and black hairy tongue disease when they actually had a bad case of hemorrhoids.

The Supreme Court said it was not within its expertise to conclude that Floro was insane, but agreed with the court’s clinic’s finding that he was suffering from psychosis. If he is not forgiven his mistakes he has decided to run for the Presidency of the Philippines. After what happened in the U.S. of A. in 2000 and 2004 I wouldn’t bet against him.

HERE COMES THE BRIDE!

“Our Love Is Here To Stay,” is a great love song which has been ‘our song’ for many couples and marrieds. It’s interesting that men and women seem to need romantic songs to celebrate their love. Hit Men don’t seem to have that need to prove their love for their vocations. Unless that song is “Bang, Bang You’re Dead.”

If love songs work don’t knock them. Falling in love is a tricky business and for every couple that does whatever ‘crutch’ or symbol they use is okay with the Geezer. In my own case, I once found myself mysteriously attracted to drinking bottles of tequila on the rocks and after a long bout sipping the potent booze woke up 15 hours later in Reno sleeping next to a Bulgarian lady shot-putter. Her beard woke me up.

Since people get married for different reasons it shouldn’t surprise anyone when a seemingly unmatched pair decides to tie the knot. We’ve all heard of May/December romances – the most famous recent one was Anna Nichol’s brief union with a 90-year old zillionaire. She obviously held his nuptials enough for the gent to leave her most of his fortune. But a news item from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia caught my attention. It seems a 33-year-old man married his “love child.” The bride happens to be a 104-year-old woman. The natural question is “Why?” His answer is, “our mutual respect and friendship had turned to love.”

Ooooookay! Obviously Muhamad Noor Che Musa’s elevator doesn’t go to the top floor. This bizarre connubial was his first marriage and his wife’s 21st. Muhamad, an ex-army serviceman had been living with his mother. Aha! I can understand being attracted to an older woman – especially if that woman happens to be Linda Evans or Brigitte Bardot but not one old enough to be the grandma of your grandma.

The groom said he found peace and a sense of belonging after meeting Wook Kundor, whom he said he initially, sympathized with because she was childless, old and alone. “I am not after her money, as she is poor,” the gallant hubby proclaimed. If this yutz believes that there will be an off-spring from this marriage it can be blamed on the fact that he was stuck by lightening while licking a stamp and now has the intelligence of wall-eyed pike.

I have put in my dib for their pick of the litter. This romance gives hope to all of us out there who are still looking for Mr. or Ms. Right. Instead of a computer dating service we should all start hanging around Senior Citizen Homes.