Reinke Faces Life

Monday August 30, 2010 10:05 PM EDT

CAR BURNS UP WHEN CIGARETTE THROW GOES WRONG

South Brunswick Police received a 911 call reporting a car fire on Bard Drive North at 11am Monday morning. Officers arrived to find a 1998 Honda Civic fully engulfed in flames. The driver, a 19 year old female from Rocky Hill said she had been smoking a cigarette a few minutes before the fire happened. She thought she threw the cigarette out the window but realized she may have missed when the car caught fire. After throwing the cigarette she continued to drive until she felt heat on her back and the vehicle began to fill wiith smoke. This is when she pulled over and got out of the vehicle.

The vehicle was completely destroyed. There were no injuries. The Monmouth Junction Fire Department responded to the scene and extinguished the vehicle.

For full details, go to https://local.nixle.com/alert/3314907/?sub_id=241886.

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No word on the hair color of the young woman.

No word if Daddy was going to buy her a new “safer” car.

No word if she graduated Gooferment Skrule.

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FROM MY HOSPITAL NOTES

About 1AM, the night nurse WOKE Our Girl <<the patient>> up to tell her that “they needed her ADVANCED DIRECTIVE. BEFORE they could do the procedure today.”

(<Expletive Deleted> are you <synonym for excrement output> me! How many copies have I given RWJUHNB over the past 5 years and you can’t find ANY of them.)

So, now, Our Girl is upset. Is this procedure more dangerous due to the low platelets? Why are they asking for it now? Has the leukemia gotten worse? And what am I supposed to do at 1AM in the morning? Should I wake up the PA <<meaning me, the spouse>> who probably just went to sleep? Argh!

(Actually I was still awake.)

SOoo at 5:50AM, she calls PA. I’m dead out, but I hear the phone. Now, I start think: “Oh <excrement> what’s gone wrong now!” I answer the phone but she’s hung up. I’m looking at the caller id to see who called. Then, my cell phone starts to ring in its charging station in the “office” bedroom. So I stub my big toe running to catch it.

(THink of your favorite Marx Brother’s movie)

It’s Our Girl, who’s royally <synonym for urine output> off and relates the whole tale.

Now, I’m starting to worry. Why now, what’s changed since last night at 9pm. Is this just bureaucratic stupidity? No going back to sleep now.

(My toe still <Expletive Deleted> hurts.)

When I was on the phone, I couldn’t remember where the <Expletive Deleted> the papers were. I know that the originals are safely in the safe. But those are legal size and I don’t have a legal size copier. I know that they are on the website in a password protected directory but I haven’t used it in years. I should have a copy in the “medical records” bag but I haven’t looked for it in a year.

So, now I’m cranked.

Yeah, the form’s copies were where they were supposed to be in the bag in the patient’s room all the time.

Keep reading. It gets better!

I arrive around 730AM with the forms, (and coffee). (I’m going to need a LOT of coffee to stay awake today.) Our Girl says “don’t give them; make them ask”.

The morning proceeds, she goes for the test, and the routine rambles on.

Yup, you guessed it. NO ONE EVER ASKED!

Wait it gets better yet.

The “nurse manager” for the floor comes around two days later “conducting a patient satisfaction survey”. By now, Our Girl has had two days to stew and brew. Now, she RARELY complains or asks for anything in the hospital. She feels genuinely upset to be imposing on the hospital workers. BUTT (there’s always a big but) this is an exception. She vents it all out. Chapter and verse. And this manager says: “Oh, X is pregnant and has ‘baby brain’.”

Talk about volcanic eruption! Pour some case on the smoldering camp fire why don’t you? It was almost out and you have now mad eit ten times worse. Our Girl ended with: “Then she should be working in a file room somewhere; not tending to patients.” Nurse Manager shrugs her shoulder, thanks Our Girl for her input, and departs.

Our Girl is STILL <synonym for urine output> off and has it stuck in her craw!

And, I’m still amazed at the stupidity of all involved, the poorly designed processes, and the technology failure to capture and prevent.

Argh!

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http://unclutterer.com/2010/08/12/go-big-or-go-home

Go big or go home?

*** begin quote ***

Most children, if asked to draw the house they’ll live in as an adult, will sketch a home resembling a bloated Graceland or Cinderella’s castle. A rare child might draw something akin to Skylab, but rarely will you see a home that is an apartment or small cottage. Kids dream big, and they almost always want yards, trees, and all the amenities of a suburban mansion.

*** end quote ***

Maybe we should all draw where we will be in a decade?

ROFL!

A plot?

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http://oldfortyfives.com/thoseoldwesterns.htm

One look at this film clip and you’ll be young and old all over again. It is “brand new” even listing 2010.

BUT WAIT — THERE’S MORE!!!! Ever wonder just who all those minor characters were who populated western after western with few lines and a familiar face.

Well, the clip has pictures and names — so after 50 or so years — say “Howdy” to some of those general store, saloon keeper, blacksmith mini-heroes from your youth.

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Sigh, those were the simple days of illusion.

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http://www.irishcentral.com/roots/Irelands-strangest-place-names-99827479.html

*** begin quote ***

Hospital, Co. Limerick – acquired its name from the Knights Hospitaller, a Christian organization in the time of the Crusades. Ironically, the town doesn’t have any medical facilities.

*** end quote ***

Speechless!

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“Apparently the best way to stop a shark attack is to poke them in the eye. It’s very comforting to know the difference between life and death is a move perfected by The Three Stooges.” — Craig Ferguson

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On 7/29 I beat the old lady 10,750 to 9,930 points.

On the spinner, I scores 2 threes, 3 fours, 2 fives, 1 fifteen, 2 twenty fives, and 2 fifties.

Have to add that to my probability data sheet. Trying to develop a probability table.

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On a side note, went to Keansburg, the poor man’s seaside heights, played a poker machine that paid on any pair. Beat her as well, but didn’t keep score, or track the machine. Probably won’t be there for another decade. Now that the Old Heidelberg has closed. Guess the old gent, who always worked the grill, died. He was old when we first went there. Must have owned it. SIgh, change is never for the good.

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http://www.keywestlou.com/2010/07/its-9-oclock-in-morning-i-just-got-up.html

>government doesn’t need to tell us how to save

Sounds like you have a spark of a “little L libertarian” in you?

Hmmm, how best to fan it?

Pointing out that the Gooferment steals from the poor to give to the rich (i.e., reverse robin hood)?

Reminding you that genocide can’t be done without the Gooferment power?

Demonstrating that “drunken sailors” only spend their own money, unlike the bozos in Congress?

Maybe pointing out that Goldman Sachs has already found a loophole and is avoiding the new “finanical reform” bill?

Nope! It has to be that the Gooferment has no role in marriage. It’s perhaps at best a matter for society to work out through the peaceful associations like Churches, fraternal organizations, or even biker bars. Gooferment’s involvement in marriage comes from the racist southern politicians and now is justified by “benefits”. Get the Gooferment out of the “benefits” business and it can exit stage left and leave the people in peace.

Yup, that HAS to be the “winning argument”.

MYOB should have been the national motto. And, especially, the Gooferment should stick to its two Constitutional roles: protecting the people form force or fraud.

Shall I send you a membership application?

LOL, there ain’t no little L libertarian “club”. Libertarians are like kittens! Hard to find two that agree on anything. But, in general, every one of them recognizes the right of the people to be left alone and figure it out for themselves.

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Yes, youngsters, a long long time ago gasoline came in “grades”.

The well groomed English speaking attendant would dial the grade you wanted to purchase. Could even advise you by reading — gasp — a chart to tell you what grade was best for your particular engine.

Yes, kiddies, cars still have engines in them.

And, the attendant would clean your windshield while waiting for your gas to stop pumping.

Then, he’d cheerful take your money and give you: your receipt, your plaid or green trading stamps, a free glass, and heart-felt thank you.

Yes, I know it’s not like that now! But it once was.

<Cue Robert Goulet singing Camelot: “there once was such a place”>

Sigh!

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http://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/archbishop-fulton-sheen-returns-to-silver-screen-in-new-documentary/

*** begin quote ***

The hour-long documentary, entitled, “Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen: Servant of All,” offers both entertainment and a powerful message of evangelization as it follows the life of the famous archbishop (1895-1979). The video includes the testimonies of dozens of individuals who were touched by the life of the archbishop. It also shows footage from his popular television program, “Life is Worth Living.”

*** end quote ***

Everyone has their own story about meeting or interacting with a famous person. That was the rationale for the “Farley file” of Ike’s campaign as highlighted in the Heinlein story Double Star.

Sigh, those were the days. My younger years.

My “Bishop Sheen” story was that of an obnoxious fat little Good Shepherd grammar school kid focused, as usual, on an absurd little goal.

We were given “boosters” to sell for the “Propagation of the Faith”. Long story short, I happened to be outside the old Polo Grounds in the early evening one Saturday before the Good Bishop was to speak and say Mass for a mod of folks. What better place to find suckers … err I mean the faithful willing to give a wee lad a contribution for Holy Mother Church. So I am peddling my “boosters” to anyone who looks like they have few bucks. Up pulls a limo. Hey hot target I think. So I zip over and get ready to do my spiel. We were give a stock script. But I embellished the close. SO this fellow gets out with two young guys. Black coats all. Buttoned up. That should have been a clue; it wasn’t that cold. But I was into my pitch. “Yada, yada, yada.” And, into my close: “And, of course, I’m going to pray specifically and by name for each person that buys a Propagation of the Faith booster from me. Care to spend a dollar for the Pope?” To which this guy breaks out into a belly laugh. “Certainly, I’ll take five.” He turns to one the young guys with his hand out and a five comes from somewhere. He takes my cardboard booster and writes on it. Rips off his half and says: “Can you do me a favor and fill out the rest?” “Of course, I’m a full service fund raiser.” He asks: “And, why are you doing this? Do you want the Church to suceed?” “Not particularly. That’s good. But I want to get out of homework for a month if I win.” He laughed and said: “That’s a good goal. And, I’ll pray you reach all your goals.” At that point, he patted me on my head and rushed off. I looked at the the stub and it was signed “F. J. Sheen Servant of God”. No one at school believed it, but I had the evidence.

Like stupid kid, I turned the stub in. I should have kept it! Dumb, dumb, dumb.

And, btw, I won. But the Brothers reneged on the “prize”. No Federal Courts for little plantiffs who got screwed. I not only got homework form then on, but I got several punish lessons for the tirade I went on.

Any wonder, why I have no sense of security or confidence when ANY authority figure tells me ANYTHING. Remember Judge Judy!

Argh!

And, you wonder why I hated school?

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http://www.impactlab.com/2010/07/23/shitterton-villagers-buy-theft-proof-sign/

July 23rd, 2010 at 5:18 am
Shitterton Villagers Buy ‘Theft-Proof’ Sign
Shitterton strikes back

*** begin quote ***

A village sign has been stolen so many times that residents have clubbed together to buy a stone version cemented in to the ground. Households in Shitterton, near Bere Regis, Dorset contributed £20 each to the new sign after repeatedly falling victim to pranksters. Volunteers then arranged a truck and crane to manoeuvre the stone into place…

*** end quote ***

Guess I’ll have to ask my favorite Brit. Must have lost something in translation coming over the pond. I don’t get the joke. Do you? Please explain it to a fat old white guy injineer. Use little words.

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FROM LUDDITE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q51hVC0Lgwg

Very funny.

Some inventor somewhere should be working on a force field that would protect the innocent from a homicide bomber.

One has to wonder how a whole religion, let alone one single individual, can be distorted into killing.

But the video was stunning in its honesty.

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http://www.myjokemail.com/jokes/lexophiles-lovers-of-words/

*** begin quote ***

Lexophiles (Lovers of Words)

1. A bicycle can’t stand alone; it is two tired.

2. A will is a dead giveaway.

3. Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.

*** end quote ***

I’ll have to create a new section on the blog for these pithy bits of wisdom.

I never heard some of these.

Zen-like

They all key off a double play on the words.

I can’t imagine how one would go about building one. Are they just discovered?

run — diarrhea / law versus diktat / table to be able place to eat versus some thing one looks up a value / medicine med a sin medium sin me dicin e

argh!

Not as easy as it looks and it looks hard!

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Shel Silverstein poem,Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda:

   All the woulda-coulda-shouldas
   Layin’ in the sun,
   Talkin’ ‘bout the things
   They woulda-coulda-shouldas done …
   But those woulda-coulda-shouldas
   All ran away and hid
   From one little did.

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The chain guard is either poorly installed, defective, or been mistreated. It rubbed the read tire. So I, like the fat old white guy injineer I am, bent it back into shape. When riding (Yes I did ride it.) it made a repetitive metal on metal sound. So, I took it back to the shop where I found it needed a little more bending. (Pretty sad that I could bend it with my bear hands. I remember when you needed “tools” to work on metal or bikes. Argh!)

Took a few pedals up and down the block

(OK, four to be exact!)

The seat needs lowering. And, I need to work on it. Argh!

When did fat, old, and out of shape catch up with me?

Argh!

It’s going to be a long rest of my life.

Argh squared!

It’s not hot here on the porch, but I’m hot and sweaty from just that little bit of effort.

I better get a helet for when I fall off this thing and break my skull.

My brain is OBVIOUSLY all I have going for me.

Argh cubed!

You can all stop snickering now. And go read my book. (I have “John” riding a bike effortlessly there. In my imagination!)

It’s all the equipment’s fault!

It’s all effortless long-distance high-speed pedaling … … in my dream world!

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http://www.impactlab.com/2010/06/06/top-10-photos-of-the-week-131/

“Happily ever after? Not so much”

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I found this would be better titled: “Be careful what you wish for; you may get it!”

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Does anyone really believe that Derek Jeter drives a Ford Edge — with or without the retractable roof, or Sirius?

Argh!

Come on, guys, advertising has to be at least believable!

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FROM MY BORGATA FILE

Went for salads for lunch.

Amusing incident happened.

F said he’d buy the beer. He got hot stuff from the Japanese grill. We all got salads. (Ain’t I being dietetic? You’ll see when I am but a wisp of a boy. A figment of my former self.)

The guy at the Japanese grill told him that “no one sold beer in the food court”.

So F naturally believed him and bought what M calls “a fountain drink”.

A big one.

(Nice profit for the Japanese grill. Wonder if they have sales incentives for the shift? You’ll see why I ask that.)

Being a know-it-all, I went to the Philly Steak Sandwich place to confirm. Sure they still sold it.

Back at the table, F was annoyed. We razzed him about not wanting to pay for the beer.

I translated the “Japanese” for him: “I don’t sell beer and I don’t care what you want!”.

Everyone laughed.

ROFL!

ROFL?

OK, I guess you had to be there.

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Note the Hopalong Cassidy jacket. My favorite.

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I speechless at what she kept. I didn’t know she eve had this one. Even as a “slick sleeve” I was a real “winner”! Argh!!

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My father, who everyone called “Ferdie”, my paternal grandmother Marie, me, and an unknown person.

Going through my Mom’s old pictures. Too bad people don’t write the names, date, and place. Start now to memorialize your history.

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http://networkedblogs.com/3alvf

Are you a Nerd or a Geek?

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Dweeb! I think. I’ll have to ask Luddite.

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FROM LUDDITE (Blame him; not me)

*** begin quote ***

Subject: FW: MALE VS. FEMALE AT ATM MACHINE

-MALE VS. FEMALE AT THE ATM MACHINE <http://groups.yahoo.com/subscribe/enjoythemasti>

A new sign in the Bank Lobby reads:

‘Please note that this Bank is installing new Drive-through ATM machines enabling customers to withdraw cash without leaving their vehicles. Customers using this new facility are requested to use the procedures outlined below when accessing their accounts. After months of careful research, MALE &FEMALE Procedures have been developed. Please follow the Appropriate steps for your gender.’

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MALE PROCEDURE:

1. Drive up to the cash machine.

2. Put down your car window.

3. Insert card into machine and enter PIN.

4. Enter amount of cash required and withdraw.

5. Retrieve card, cash and receipt..

6. Put window up.

7.. Drive off.

FEMALE PROCEDURE:

What is really funny is that most of this part is the Truth!

1. Drive up to cash machine.

2. Reverse and back up the required amount to align car window with the machine.

3. Set parking brake, put the window down.

4. Find handbag, remove all contents on to passenger seat to locate card.

5. Tell person on cell phone you will call them back and hang up..

6. Attempt to insert card into machine…

7.. Open car door to allow easier access to machine due to its excessive distance from the car.

8.. Insert card.

9. Re-insert card the right way.

10. Dig through handbag to find diary with your PIN written on the inside back page.

11. Enter PIN.

12. Press cancel and re-enter correct PIN.

13. Enter amount of cash required.

14. Check makeup in rear view mirror.

15. Retrieve cash and receipt…

16. Empty handbag again to locate wallet and place cash inside..

17. Write debit amount in check register and place receipt in back of checkbook.

18. Re-check makeup.

19. Drive forward 2 feet.

20. Reverse back to cash machine.

21. Retrieve card.

22. Re-empty hand bag, locate card holder, and place card into the slot provided!

23. Give dirty look to irate male driver waiting behind you.

24.. Restart stalled engine and pull off.

25. Redial person on cell phone..

26. Drive for 2 to 3 miles.   

27. Release Parking Brake.

SEND THIS TO A MAN WHO NEEDS A LAUGH, <http://groups.yahoo.com/subscribe/enjoythemasti>

AND TO THE LADIES who can handle it…. they need a laugh, too!

Remember this! A lady sent it to me.

She was laughing, too.

*** end quote ***

Email complaints to Luddite (two d’s and one t) at reinke dot cc

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FROM LUDDITE (He gets the funniest spam):

The Pentagon announced TODAY the formation of a new 500-man elite fighting unit called the:

A clergyman walking down a country lane and sees a young farmer struggling to load hay back onto a cart after it had fallen off.

“You look hot, my son,” said the cleric. “why don’t you rest a moment, and I’ll give you a hand.”

“No thanks,” said the young man.

“My father wouldn’t like it.”

“Don’t be silly,” the minister said.

“Everyone is entitled to a break. Come and have a drink of water.”

Again the young man protested that his father would be upset. Losing his patience, the clergyman said, “Your father must be a real slave driver. Tell me where I can find him and I’ll give him a piece of my mind!”

“Well,” replied the young farmer, “he’s under the load of hay.”

ROFL. (Well, I found it funny!)

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http://www.irishcentral.com/saint_patricks_day/Irish-sayings-proverbs-and-prayers-for-Saint-Patricks-Day-88201577.html

May those who love us, love us.
And those that don’t love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn’t turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles,
So we’ll know them by their limping.

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