Friday, May 11, 2018

FREE Download FREE FREE FREE

Today thru Tuesday May 15th
Get your FREE Kindle Download of
The Freelance Retort Unraveled, Vol.1—
“The Zombies Have Big Heads and other observations”
FREE—Direct from the Archive of Retort
A Top 40 of silliness and insight guaranteed to keep the pages turning
Still in their original absurdity
Now FREE...thru Tuesday May 15th
Did I mention it was FREE


Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Brain Train





I’ve been trying to brain train my brain.


But it never listens...and that’s a problem.  It just blabs and blabs and blabs; all day; all night.

Like it has a mind of its own.

My brain is never satisfied...ever.

If you happen to find me sitting quietly, somewhere, on a street corner, munching on a Turkey leg, my brain isn’t thinking, Mmmm, this is one good turkey leg!

 No, it’s thinking...Mmmmm,  I wonder if I could have gotten a better turkey leg at that other turkey leg store...and how did I end up on this street corner? Did I get on the wrong bus again?


Or, if it’s not thinking that, it’s probably thinking, I’m gonna miss munching on this turkey leg when it’s gone. I wonder how long before I get another turkey leg like this one...and what time does the next bus come by?

So by the time I’ve finished munching on the turkey leg, I don’t even feel as if I had a turkey leg.

I’m just some weird guy sitting on an unknown street corner holding onto a greasy, old turkey bone, thinking to himself...Ok, this is weird...I usually go for the wing.

It’s just how my brain works...always has, right from the get go.

Friday, April 13, 2018

Data Dis...Data Dat









Lately, everyone’s in a panic over the possibility of their data being stolen.


Which is a little odd since I’d bet most people weren't even sure how to actually pronounce “Data” let alone realize they had data to steal?

But now it’s all the rage to...well...rage about your misappropriated data, so it seems as if it’s a big deal.

My data is my data, and I’m saving it for that one very special data analytic company. Not just any Tom, Dick and Harassing analytic company who’s gonna use my data to persuade me to buy fake Fig
Newtons over genuine, authenticated Fig Newtons.



Ain’t gonna happen...nuh, uh...no way.



I cannot be swayed from my Newtons...you’re darn tootin...no matter how many of them you try to convince me are involved in undesirable activities in the basement of pizza parlors all over the country.

You can’t fool me...I mean, most of the time, unless it has to do with bottled water.

But who can tell from water?

Certainly not me.

I say, so what if someone steals my data?

In fact, I already had my data stolen, years ago.

Friday, March 9, 2018

Jump to Conclusions








Imagine if we could jump into the essence of another person.

Spend a little time in there, poking around, getting a sense of the place.

“Ah...so that’s why that woman appears so content, taking pictures of her dog. He’s the only one in her life whoever smiles at her...but does it really explain the odd choice in footwear?”

“Okay, so that’s why that guy is always so cranky...maybe he should rethink those thongs.”

“No wonder that kid has a chip on his shoulder...I would too if  I had so much trouble understanding velcro.”

If we could jump inside, even for a half a minute, it might change our perspective about a lot of things.

Folks who always seemed so inscrutable, might just become very scrutable.

That is if you ever paid any attention to them, in the first place.

Because the fact is, most people aren’t really paying attention to anyone else but themselves, most of the time.

Except for that women at the deli who always makes a face whenever I ask her to remove all the corn niblets from my soup.

What?

I don’t like corn niblets.

Sue me....

I have my reasons.

And that’s the thing.  We’re all so busy being “us” we never take the time to consider being “them”...and what makes them “them”.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Facts is Facts





The fact is, it used to be a fact...facts were important.

Facts is facts.

In fact...the facts speak for themselves.

Just the facts, Ma’am.

Nothing but the facts.

If in doubt, in regard to any given issue or topic, which in fact are pretty much the same thing, one would always look to the facts.

Facts don’t lie.

It’s just a matter of fact.

If I say the sky is blue, some folks would agree.

It’s true...you can see it...take my word for it...a fact...right?

Uh, uh...nope...no way.

Not a fact at all.

Friday, January 26, 2018

The Bubble Within








With all the important and controversial issues thrown at us every day, all day—collusion vs. illusion...obstruction vs. construction vs. destruction. Sexual predators vs. harassers vs. lousy dates and just plain stupid people. Secret societies, Fake News, partisan politics, a divided nation, head spinning Tweets, my guy vs your guy...and the Yankees trying to buy yet another championship...again...and probably succeeding. And don’t even get me started on the “evil” Belichick/Brady coven up in New England—I thought I would tell you about the difficulties I'm experiencing planning our upcoming Disney Vacation.

What?

You thought I built myself a triple layer, extra strength, double bubble living compartment for nothing? Plus, painted it with two coats of “Opaque Opal” so no one can see in, while I can’t see out, just so I can spend more time watching cable TV, while weighing the pros and cons of an all Oprah administration featuring free weight watcher memberships for everyone?

Uh uh...I’ve got real problems here, Bud.

Like trying to locate where I put those Mouse Ears I wore so well back in the 60s’.

But let me start where all pointless, self-absorbed, misinformed stories like this always start....somewhere in the middle, mostly near the end...since to start at the beginning would be a cliché, not to mention time consuming.

Friday, January 5, 2018

A Good Lookin Year!








Less than a week into 2018 and I have to say, I really like the look of it.

I mean, actually the look of it.

Even the sound of it.

Two Thousand Eighteen!

Not sure why.

Maybe because the 8 looks a little like a snowman.

Or my Uncle Stew.

And Aunt Mazie.

Or possibly because it has a cool endless flow thing going on.

But maybe, just because, when I was growing up, 18 was kind of a teenage promise land.
For all intent and purposes you became “legal” at 18, whereas before, I suppose, you stood a little on the outlaw side of things.