Friday, November 13, 2020

A Modest Idea to Enforce the Wearing Of Face Masks.

 



So I was at the Provo Rec Center this morning, and I counted, in just five minutes, ten people blithely strolling about without a face mask.

Let's face it; there are scofflaws everywhere, when it comes to the various mask mandates in place in each state. Governors have threatened fines and everything short of the torture chamber to get people to wear masks, but tens of thousands continue to flout the well-being of themselves and their fellow citizens in a cavalier manner that is driving the COVID-19 case numbers through the national roof.

So what's to be done?

I'll tell you, in all modesty.

CREATE A GOVERNMENT HOTLINE.

That's the first step. Create a hotline where the criminal element that are not wearing masks in public places can be photographed with smartphones and their image sent to a government policing agency -- then, it's just a matter of face recognition technology to identify the culprits, track them down, and toss 'em in the hoosegow.

OFFER A BOUNTY.

The second step is to offer a bounty to those reporting the maskless marauders to the government hotline. I think a hundred dollars per person would be a fair amount. Deposited directly into a bank account. Why, if this were already in place I could have made seven hundred dollars this morning at the Rec Center alone!

Who the hell needs any kind of Paycheck Protection Program or  Stimulus Check Program, with this kind of bounty in place?

Now you may think I'm joking -- and maybe I am, right now.

But how far away do you really think we are from implementing some kind of draconian program like this to stave off a death toll not seen since the Middle Ages?

And, for better or worse, I'm claiming this original and wicked idea as my very own -- I thought it up first . . . 

BWA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAA!

Thursday, November 12, 2020

Today's timericks.

 



When I awake I always dread/to tune into a talking head/they never good news do proclaim/but something bad or sad or lame/which led me to a quick decision/to jettison my television.


I gave up reading comic books about a year ago/I found them such a trifle with their storylines shallow/But if you want to know the truth, the reason I resigned/from following the Batman is small print now makes me blind.


When Biden hits the White House, CFO's all think alike/that he will praise the working man and then his wages hike/Preventing this unpleasantness is now the main concern/of those who do not sweat nor toil their daily bread to earn.


my banker pays me nothing for deposits that I make/the int'rest rate is lower than a bottom feeding hake/I oughta be a loan shark so I get some vigorish/else it's to the poor house, which I hear is chiggerish. 

The immediate goodness of God

 



The immediate goodness of God

emanates from all around.

And those who will seek in good faith

joy in it always have found.

Why should it be hard to praise

a Being so helpful and kind?

We live in His world, after all;

which for us he wisely designed.

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

The chair.

 





They finally took my chair away today.

Now I have nowhere to sit.

First they came to take away 

my pots and pans.

Then they came back for the TV.

Then the vacuum cleaner.

The couch was next.

And then, inevitably, my bed.

But they left the chair until last.

It was a good sturdy chair.

All wood.

Painted and varnished.

I swiped it from a laundromat.

So now I'm standing on my bare floor.

At least they left me my shoes.

And the kind lady down at the mission

gave me half a dozen pairs

of wool socks.

So winter won't be so bad.

But what I'd really like to have --

the thing that would make up for

the terrible loss of all my possessions --

an unfair and completely unnecessary action,

by the way,

that is due to mismanagement 

on the part of my agent,

what I'd really like to possess

is a map of Antarctica.

I think

a map of Antarctica 

would motivate me

to move out of myself

and into a nicer neighborhood --

one where everyone

kept oyster crackers

on hand

for unexpected company.  


Today's timericks.

 



I'm having baked beans for my breakfast/the kind that are processed and tinned/the fiber is welcome, I grant you/but mostly it's gone with the wind.


On Veteran's Day we celebrate/our soldiers and their honored fate/We'd like to bring them home in peace/and hope that conflicts soon will cease/These past four years we've had excess/of dead and those who convalesce.  


So now I read an online clip/that claims that it is getting hip/to dress up once again at home/for work or just around to roam/high heels and dress shirts are the style/even on a desert isle/but I will never change my mode/content to be a shabby toad. 



In the land of peach-n-cream/voters may just want to scream/Georgia's counting votes by hand/until cities turn to sand/but such stalling won't prevent/Biden as next President.





Tuesday, November 10, 2020

To me he doth not stink

 



In the Book of Mormon there was once a faithful queen,

who wondered if the king were dead when his demise was seen.

She listened to a prophet's voice, and lo -- her king revived;

we, too, raise the dead when our good hope is full arrived!

Today's timericks

 



Republicans cry 'voter fraud'/and claim the process way too flawed/they want a recount that will drain/heart and hope and wealth and brain/but the only thing in doubt/is how to shoo that White House lout.


A fireplace with logs aflame/that crackles merrily/warms my old bones at day's end/but makes a thug of me/All that carbon up the flue/infallibly produces/greenhouse gas that's killing off/the birdies and the mooses!


Gimme a home in the suburbs/where COVID and crime are aloof/with plenty of room to set up my Zoom/and six bathrooms under my roof/Neighbors, though distant, are friendly/and they make good money, like me/we swim in our pools and have the best schools/and think of the slums with great pity/so what if my rent is outrageous/I sit in my hot tub and drink/sparkling wine and then lightly dine/on squid sauteed in its own ink/Perhaps I am selfish; however/when plague sits upon this great land/all charitable thought is easily bought/by donating pork & beans canned.




Monday, November 9, 2020

Today's timericks.

 



In the morning I take pills/for a slew of noxious ills/Then at noon I do the same/so my carcass can maintain/Just before I go to bed/more pellets go into my head/If any more I have to take/I'll sound just like a rattlesnake!


Old McDonald on his farm/looks at Biden with alarm/Sure, he hopes that tariffs shrink/but he also has to think/that environmental laws/won't come from some Santa Claus.


my student debt has lasted long/now Social Security/I'm collecting and am still/from that debt not free/in fact, if I default on it/the feds dig in with glee/and take away a goodly part/of my futurity.


Old Joe Biden took an axe/and gave to Facebook forty whacks/when he saw how well it played/he carved up Twitter with a blade.


Here in Utah, dried and cut/ev'rything is going shut/cases mounting, clinics strained/this virus will not be contained/time to grin and hunker down/welcome to a new ghost town.  


The standard has fallen, and so with McPlants/McDonalds as carnivore haven recants/Is there no honor, no esprit de corps/are flesh eaters forsaken forevermore?/I'll jump in a vat of tofu; yes I will/rather than give in to plant based false swill!



My words shall hiss forth

 



Like a hiss that penetrates,

God has words for all the states.

Pleasant to the humble ear;

for all others, full of fear.

Heed them now, ye nations swelled --

or later on you'll be compelled.

 

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Today's timericks.

 




Burn out is a problem that has never bothered me/That's because I never took my job too seriously/The only thing that wearies me and causes much malaise/is watching New York Giants play on the odd Sundays.


The Paycheck Protection Program/attracted parasites/who fraudulently took some/very hungry bites/Mismanaged and exhausted/the fund is now so barren/there's nothing left to do/but stand around a-swearin'.


The Sunday dinners of my teens/full of rolls and lima beans/with a roast and taters, too/is but a nostalgic view/of a time when plenty sat/on the land like butterfat/cream pies bubbled in the stove/hams were studded with much clove/Gravy boats sailed happily/on a salted, fatty sea/Relish trays were large affairs/We all ate like millionaires/Then the calories barged in/and eating well became a sin/Nowadays a piece of fish/or boiled tofu in a dish/with a dab of cottage cheese/(not enough to feed dead fleas)/is what Sunday's all about/My Sabbath is a day of drought!



I'm dreaming of lemon bars; how about you?

So chewy and tart; they're a heavenly goo!

When I try to make 'em, the crust gets all burnt.

You'd think at my age I'd have finally learnt

to go to the store for this succulent treat,

so I never mess with the eggs, flour, heat --

an old man like me should be pampered, and spared

the making of food that has constantly erred.