Lois Has Risen

The only rightful place to begin is to thank my dear buddy, Hoss. Without you, my friend, everyone would have stopped laughing and thought me six-feet under. Has anyone ever blogged their own funeral? Well, I ain’t dead just yet so you’ll have to wait for that one, and hopefully, it‘ll be a real long wait, so don‘t go holding your breath, folks. Hoss, from the heart of my bottom, or the bottom of my heart, whichever you prefer, I thank you for filling in my big ol’ gunboats (that would be shoes for you whippersnappers who don’t know the hip lingo from back in the day.)

Back in the day is exactly where I, Lois Lane have been hiding myself. Freelance work is really slow going so I pounded the pavement in search of regular jobs. I didn’t just run off all willy-nilly looking for work. I thought about some of the things I enjoy, and then thought, how can I make money doing something that makes me happy. See, that is the key to work. It becomes more like fun for money than a chore.

I have a fondness for senior citizens, as you may have noticed. Some of them even like me a little too, like our buddy Hoss. With that in mind, I headed out to my local senior center and my area nursing home, applying for work. I’d done a lot of activities type of work as a volunteer, so getting paid to play bingo and euchre was right up my alley. As luck would have it, I was called for an interview. Once they found out I am a swell and dandy gal, via my background check, lack of a criminal record and my lack of TB, Hepatitis A B C - X Y and Z, fingerprint sample, blood screening, drug test (which I passed even though I didn’t study) and my mother’s maiden name, I was in, baby.

I’ll only be there for a short time while the girl I am filling in for heals from her surgery. I have another month at least and then I can get back to writing fulltime. I’m still writing but just not nearly as much. You know why? Because these senior citizens kick my ass every day of the week! So far, I have been flashed twice, smacked twice, pinched once, yanked by the arm, shirt, pants and hair on a daily basis. Boy, oh boy, do I have some stories for you guys when I get back into the swing of things. Plus the Lane Gang is in full swing of a case of the crazies, which I’ve been making note of and I’ll share as soon as possible. Did I mention while all of this was going on that my laptop bit the dust? It’s still in the shop. Keep your fingers crossed that all of this fun for money I’ve been doing isn’t all going to go to a new laptop. Thankfully, my daughter’s computer decided to work today. It’s a dinosaur but it beats a blank.

I’m learning a lot about history from the people who were there. I’m having a lot of fun, but I am exhausted at the end of the day. I’ll try to update again soon, if not maybe Hoss would like to make a comeback. Don’t let her get too dusty, okay guys? If you want to share a funny with the readers here, send an email to me at nonewz_1972@yahoo.com and I’ll pencil you in for a guest blogger spot. Thanks for sticking it out with me while all of this busy work keeps me away. I miss you all bunches!!!

Sunday Was So 2007

When I (Old Horsetail Snake) left a missive here on Sunday, I figured that would hold up until Lolo got back. But she is slow to arise in these parts. So since I still got her password:

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California vintners in the Napa Valley, which primarily produces Pinot Blanc, Pinot Noir and Pinot Grigio wines, have developed a new hybrid grape that acts as an anti-diuretic. Which is grand news for us old folks.



It is expected to reduce the number of trips we old people have to make to the bathroom during the night. The new wine will be marketed as:



Pinot More!!

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After having dug to a depth of 10 meters last year, Scottish scientists found traces of copper wire dating back 100 years and came to the conclusion that their ancestors already had a telephone network more than 100 years ago.

Not to be outdone by the Scots, British scientists dug to a depth of 20 meters, and shortly after, a story in the UK newspapers read "British archaeologists have found traces of 200-year-old copper wire and have concluded that their ancestors already had an advanced high-tech communications network a hundred years earlier than the Scots."

One week later, "The Klub," a Sunburg, Minnesota, newspaper reported the following: "After digging to a depth of 30 meters in corn fields near Games Lake, Ole Johnson, a self-taught archaeologist, reported that he found absolutely nothing. "This proves," Ole said, "that 300 years ago Norwegians were already using wireless."

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And my favorite word of the day in this place is oyster. N., oy vez, mother of pearl! Def.: A person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddishisms.

Hoo Boy! Lolo Trusts Me

What happened was that Lois got EXTREME BUSY and so she couldn't do no b**g. And, see, she knows you miss her so she has settled for second best: Me.

In case some of you do not know me (eminently possible), I am Horsetail Snake (http://www.oldhorsetailsnake.blogspot.com). I am 76 years old, and I am damn funny. Oh, okay: I am 76 1/2 and not funny. But I love Lois's sister, Angie, so I am not all bad.

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Three priests were in a railroad station on their way home to Pittsburgh.

Behind the ticket counter was a very sexy, shapely, well-endowed woman wearing a skimpy sweater. She made the three priests very nervous, so they drew straws to determine who would get the tickets.

The first priest approached the window. "Young lady, I would like three pickets to titsburg." He completely lost his composure, and fled.

The second priest goes to the window. "Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburgh, and I would like my change in nipples and dimes." Mortified, he, too, fled.

The third priest mutters, "Morons." And then he moves to the window: "Young lady, I would like three tickets to Pittsburgh and I would like my change in nickels and dimes. And, if you insist on dressing like that, when you get to the pearly gates, St. Finger's going to shake his Peter at you."

They took the bus.

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At my site, I always have a Word of the Day. I don't see any reason not to give you one.

My favorite word of the day is coffee. N., no milk, please. Def.: The person upon whom one coughs.

Come Together

I read somewhere that 30 minutes of shoveling snow is equivalent to running about three miles. If that is true, the kids and I, along with a few helpers, ran a marathon a couple of times this year at The Lane Estate.

I have some really great friends, and so do my kids. Every time we have been ass deep in snow, they have all come to my rescue with shovel in hand. Since most of the kids hangout here on a daily basis, eating our food, messing our house, and acting like they are home, I saw it as them earning their keep. Not one was paid for their services.

When I was a kid, we’d have made a killing on snow removal services with the amount of snow we have received this year. Of course, I was in much better shape and health in those days.

With the snow almost out of here, and spring winds and rain coming full steam ahead, I learned, after the fact, the symptoms and signs of heart attack include tightness in chest, nausea, radiating pain from chest, dizziness, lightheadedness, and paleness. You can experience those symptoms while shoveling. It’s your body warning you to knock it off. What scares me is that I had all of those symptoms every time I shoveled. I pushed and pushed until I felt like I was about to drop. Stupid, I know. But I didn’t know all of that stuff while there were several feet of snow on the ground. That shit about killed me.

But back in the day, I could shovel like the wind without any aches or pains. We would have made a killing on this amount of snow. Spilt 50/50, fair and square, even though Angie was a lazy little fucker. She would trick me into going out, door-to-door, offering our snow shoveling services. The thing about Ang is that, when she said “we, us, our” she only meant me. Fair and square? I think NOT. She learned that little trick from our mom.

To this day both of them say “we” when they mean anyone but them. How the likes of me and Anita, Mary and Yoda get tangled into their little webs of foolery, still, is beyond me.

So I was thinking about having a housewarming party. I haven’t done that yet because the weather has been pure crap since we moved. But what do you think about a housewarming/painting party? I think it would be awesome to trick Mom and Angie into thinking they are coming over for a good time, and do the old bait and switch trick on them, as they have on me so many times before.

Every room in the house was freshly painted before we bought it, but the walls are all white. I was really hoping to spice it up a little with some color. And what better way then tricking them into thinking it’s just a party?!?

Have a groovy weekend everyone! I have some party plans to make! (Insert sinister giggle here.)