The Original Fake Steve Ballmer – Exiled by Blogger!


This Was Funny!


CNN The Gameshow Format News Remembered

Why I Gave up Golf


It’s a long story, but I will tell you that my giving up golf had nothing to do with the game itself. I loved the screaming at caddies, throwing putters, cheating on scores, the cool spikey shoes, ….. the game was great and I mastered it. The problem was that when it came to golf I always seemed to attract the wrong kind of partners!

The stories I could tell you about what went on at that course would make a sailor go down on his knees! Let’s just say the very last time I golfed was with Bill and Matt, all they wanted to do was paaaaartay! Whenever I used any golf terminology with them they would laugh so hard. If I said “hole in one,” they’d giggle. If I said “putter” or “ball” or “driver” or “in the ruff” or “bunker” or “doubles” or “links” or “tap” or “spoon, stroke, sweet spot, play through, swing, pinch, club, lay, drop, … ” …. they would turn it into something vulgar.

So I just gave up golf, it reached the point where I couldn’t even look at my “equipment” anymore without blushing, it’s one x-rated filthy sport.

The Night Before Christmas


‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house,
 Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
 The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
 In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
 The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
 While visions of sugar plums danc’d in their heads,
 And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap-
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
 I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
 Away to the window I flew like a flash,
 Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
 The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
 Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below;
 When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
 But a minature sleigh, and eight tiny rein-deer,
 With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
 I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
 More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
 And he whistled, and shouted, and call’d them by name:
 “Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer, and Vixen,
 “On! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Dunder and Blixem;
 “To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
 “Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
 As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
 When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
 So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
 With the sleigh full of Toys – and St. Nicholas too:
 And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
 The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
 As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
 Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound:
 He was dress’d all in fur, from his head to his foot,
 And his clothes were all tarnish’d with ashes and soot;
 A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
 And he look’d like a peddler just opening his pack:
 His eyes – how they twinkled! his dimples how merry,
 His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry;
 His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
 And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
 The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
 And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
 He had a broad face, and a little round belly
 That shook when he laugh’d, like a bowl full of jelly:
 He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
 And I laugh’d when I saw him in spite of myself;
 A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
 Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
 He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
 And fill’d all the stockings; then turn’d with a jerk,
 And laying his finger aside of his nose
 And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
 He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
 And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
 But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight-
 Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

CNN The Gameshow Format News Remembered



It’s an old debate which has once again bubbled to the surface of our culture:


In our quest to be generous, inclusive and understanding of the diversities of sentient beings, maybe we have gone too far? Maybe in our zeal to not make others not feel bad, we have allowed ourselves to be duped into accepting things which are counter to our own best interest. I propose ladies and gentlemen that we have made a grave mistake when we have chosen to look away and not seriously look into the question of:


Have we devolved so far culturally and intellectually that we cannot recognize what is standing directly before us? Why do we refuse to accept the fact that there is a such thing as monsters? We even elect them to Congress? Are we insane? The first step is to gather our courage and confront the issue head-on by answering the question:



I think most of you can easily ascertain where I stand on the issue.

The Disaster Called Startrek Discovery


Where do I start?

OK, Klingons!

ghob’e’ Qu’ Hoch ‘e’ naQ tIq HoS je

I tried to be open minded here but the timeline is wrong, technology is wrong, sets are wrong, acting is flat, plots are tortured, …… the Klingons are not Klingons!

Who came up with this stuff? Kilngons are passionate, extreme, wild-eyed! The Kilngons on Discovery are mask, that’s it.

I tried to like this show but I HATE it! The writers should be fed to my pitakh!

It actually makes me like The Orville.