Disconnected Jottings

 

 

 

 

 

  Trying my hand at illustrating a scene from the Shakespeare play 'The Burning Pudding.'    

If you have some Bud Light or other Anheuser Busch beers in your home, and you want to get rid of it, don't pour it down the toilet. Give it to your favorite politician.

 

  McCoy is well-known for his gas problem but he always blames it on other crew members.    

 

  Joe bought a large house in London but when he went to see it...    

  I used to think this way before I accepted Jesus Christ. Twain is wrong that he was dead for billions of years before he was born. His thinking is that if he didn't know anything before he was born, he won't know anything after he dies. It's true to say he didn't exist during those years, but he will exist forever after his death. In fact, he now knows how wrong he was, and there is nothing he can do to repent and have a second chance.   God creates the human spirit at a time when he decides, and once the human spirit comes into existence it is eternal. The spirit consists of the mind, emotions and will; the flesh is simply a vehicle to contain us while we're on this earth. At the time of death, the body returns to the dust from where it came, but the spirit enters one of two places: Heaven or hell. Hell is worse than anything the human mind can imagine, and there is no respite from the eternal pain and suffering; it goes on forever, as Twain now knows.   Jesus C

 

 

 

  I have a part time job in a grocery store as a security guard. They don't pay me anything but they gave me this awesome Darth Vader hat, so that's okay. And Mini Me is in security training with me.    

 

 I read something about rooftop dining. I don't see the appeal but, each to their own. Facebook locks people out for anything that might depict danger, even though it's only a joke, so I won't post it there.  Incidentally, this photo was flagged on ReTalk because of the two glasses of wine. It's alcohol! Oh, no!    

 It's a good thing the T-Rex was after a bit of cyclist bum, or it might have eaten Joe.    

 HAPPY TO NOT BE A FART The reason is, a fart has a very short life span. The moment it's born, its methane molecules begin to become exponentially diluted as it mixes with air molecules. If it's lucky it will manage to penetrate a nostril or two before it becomes too weak to be noticed. When a fart mother releases one in a field, on a windy day, it's just wasted because nobody gets to enjoy it. So what's a fart mother? A fart mother is a person, either male or female who births their methane in a fart bomb. The birth canal is the gastrointestinal tract which terminates in the butt crack. The gas doesn't care from whom it emerges, so either gender is said to be the fart mother. In the human race the male is generally said to be physically stronger than the female, but this is not so with farts. Generally speaking, the gas from the female fart mother is much stronger than that from the male fart mother.

  Occasionally, I have strange dreams, so real that I wake up, exhausted. This began to happen a few years ago when I started to learn about astral projection. That is where a person can learn to leave their body and go to other places. I had also read that it can be dangerous because evil spirits could intervene and prevent the person from returning to their body which would then die. I don't think that is true, though.   There are many books on the subject and I know that with some Eastern religions it is a regular practice. A person may go to another place, and when they return to their body, they relate what they saw, and it can be verified.   So I asked God to allow me to project from my body. That's when I began to go places in dreams, and return, exhausted. That doesn't happen with all of my dreams.   Until three years ago I was involved with a spiritual ministry that God drew me into. I had no idea what I would be doing at the time, but it continued for nineteen yea

  I've given everybody's favorite president a new look. I'm tired of looking at his same, old, sober business suit, so I designed a new, classy one for him, and a nice hat to go with it.    

  Turkish movie theaters are laid out differently to American ones. Movie goers like the screen smaller and to one side so they have to turn their heads.    

  A couple of the judges stepped out to take a dump, so me and Zuck stepped in for the Christmas photo op. I think their judgeships will love it.    

 

I mistakenly thought I would blend in but there was no fooling the girls rifle team. These were the days before 'Wokeness' infested America. 'Inclusiveness' was not a thing to be grasped; 'Exclusiveness' was the order of the day. It was legal to exclude anyone who didn't fit the mold. And so it was that the girls took my rifle away and ordered me into the kitchen to make their sandwiches. I had no choice because I was disarmed and they all had rifles.      

 The late Peter Jennings said he was there, somewhere else, but I was there at the royal stuff. And so was someone else.    

 

 

  Normally concealed under their chasubles, the bishes posed for the camera with the weapons exposed. Extra magazines are kept in their miters. The hidden lesson, here, is: Never mess with a bish. And I'm thinking 'cadre' would be a better collective noun than 'assortment' for a bunch of bishops.  

 

 The photo is actually of a group of men in an alleyway in London in the late 1890s. I added me in the golfing outfit.     

 The Grim Reaper was not having a good day, rushed off his feet and feeling fed up. He had just been kicked off the number 41 bus at Stoke Newington High Street because he didn't have the right fare to go to Urswick Road in Hackney. He was supposed to be at the home of James Fripp at 2 p.m. and it was now 1.56 p.m. It was a two-mile walk  and he knew he wouldn't get there at the right time. Besides that, he felt a bit silly in his long robe and carrying a scythe past Clapton Pond, especially as it was a hot day. He knew he dare not strip down to his shorts, though, because that would be most undignified for someone of his status. Ah, well, Jim was going to be allowed to live a bit longer than planned. You can't win 'em all.    

  I was just thinking about the smell of cigar smoke, Guinness and fart. It reminds me of Christmas when I was a kid.    

 

 

 

  When FB falls on hard times because of people leaving because they're fed up with being locked out... The photo is actually of a shop that used to exist on Stoke Newington Church Street where I used to walk to junior school.    

 

 

  It's not so much that his speeches drag on, it's that nobody knows what he's mumbling about.    

  In the next scene, Spock puts his thumb into a pressure point on Kirk's neck, and they were able to pin him down for medical treatment.  

  I think he's disrespecting the president.    

 

 

 

  And just like that, overnight, Protestants erected a billboard outside Pope Frank's room at the Vatican.    

  That was very kind of himher.    

  I didn't know Joe is a ballet enthusiast. He's very energetic for his age.    

 Pope Frank approves of the music of 'The Bishops' pop group.