THIS IS JEP-R-DO!

As a big fan of JEOPARDY! (or JEP-R-DO!, as I like to call it), it caught my attention a few days ago that July 22 will be Alex Trebeck’s birthday (July 22, 1940). His upcoming birthday got me to thinking about doing a post relating to the program and/or its host, but I was doing little more than piddling around with the idea….until I saw this clip:

My immediate reaction was I had no clue that any member of the Trump clan had the intellectual chops to watch a program which invites seeing if your pool of knowledge is deeper than a piddle. After getting past that shock, I realized that if a Trump can be more than a bump on a log where watching JEOPARDY! is concerned, surely I can count on my followers being more players than naysayers where JEP-R-DO! (my version) is concerned.

Therefore, I have spared no expense to consult the world’s greatest know-it-alls (with the lamentable exception of the President) to put together a list of ten answers guaranteed to challenge even the amazing, incredible, great, terrific, tremendous, yuge reservoir of knowledge collectively held by you, my faithful readers. You will then have thirty seconds to come up with the correct questions. Since your time is limited, it is only fair that I use a matching format, listing the questions from 1 to 10 so all you need do is match the numbered questions in the second list with the lettered answers in the first list. Ready? Go!!!

a. The greatest businessman, politician and showman/spin meister/hoax promoter in American history (famous initials P.T.)
b. Playboy of the Western World
c. Master of the Universe
d. Disaster of the Universe
e. Demander in Chief
f. Liar, liar, rants on fire
g. Pathological Narcissist
h. Super Dupe-r
i. Bully Boy
j. Putin Patsy

1. Who is President Trump?
2. Who is President Trump?
3. Who is President Trump?
4. Who is President Trump?
5. Who is President Trump?
6. Who is President Trump?
7. Who is President Trump?
8. Who is President Trump?
9. Who is President Trump?
10. Who is President Trump?

That wasn’t too hard now, was it?

 

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THE WAY WE WEREN’T

The trouble with turning memories into memoirs is that when one is finished, a sneaky feeling comes along: “Things never were that way, anyway.” –Jean Negulesco (1900-93), Academy Award-winning movie director

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I’ve just finished reading Jean Negulesco’s memoir (coincidentally, he died 25 years ago today) titled THINGS I DID AND THINGS I THINK I DID. The above quote is from that book–as is his reflection on having raised, with his wife, two adopted daughters from war-torn, post-WWII Germany:

And so it starts, and so it ends. And we see ourselves in them. There is no sense in telling them, “When I was your age….” We never were their age. 

“We never were their age.” And so it is with us. We’ve never been ‘inside’ them–even our own children. When all is said and done, we’re lucky if we know ourselves–now, then or in-between–which is not to say that, along the way, we were not open to wanting whatever knowledge romance promised….

They say “You can’t go home again”–even if your old haunts still exist, your past and its ghosts stay with you, not with where you were….not so? So, where do we go?

Now, I’m as nostalgic as the next old geezer, but as my past recedes further into the past, I look at old photos, see the images of faces and places I knew, and there’s no avoiding the sense that the road between THINGS I DID AND THINGS I WISH I DID leads to a place where the sun sets before we get there.

Sooner or later, it’s all over but the doubting. It’s the place where (to paraphrase a phrase) OLD GHOSTS NEVER DIE, they….just….fade….a w a y

Still….

BLANK

Normally, when I write a post, I think about what I want to say — the body of the post — and at some point during this labor of love (after considerable cogitation), a title is born. With my last post, the title came first and I then had to work to shape the body (after considerable consternation) in language of the what-have-I-gotten-myself-into kind. Believe me, friends — it’s a pain in the brain to be boxed in by a title, so with this post, I decided to leave the title BLANK. I feel better already.

But, now that I have a blank canvas, one would think I should be able to paint a word picture; yet it’s like I can’t see the blog for the fog. Have I become color blind?

So it’s just the time of day, a mere matter of mind over time. Tomorrow the fog will clear and this will seem like a black and white dream….

And you know what they say about a clear day….

UNACCUSTOMED AS I AM TO PUBLIC LEAKING….

Perhaps, by the title, you’re anticipating that this post will be a dissertation on the subject of urinating in unisex restrooms–a practice little practiced in these provincial parts, and which, therefore, I feel little qualified to address. Obviously, such a paucity of experience could only end up in a cock-and-bull story which peters out soon after it starts, leaving my post hanging. That would be a big disappointment to my followers, I’m sure, but luckily, I have in mind other kinds of leaks to stretch this sordid exposition out to a respectable length.

Friends, I mean the kind of leaks which emanate from sources I can use to pad this post, thereby relieving me of the chore of overworking my brain cells. To my mind, that’s….

Yes, friends, I refer not to the kind of leaks that are a plumber’s best friend, but to….

https://www.history.com/news/9-leaks-that-changed-the-world

Of course, the above leaks barely scratch the surface when one considers the sheer volume of leaks released on a daily basis throughout history. Perhaps you yourself would like to reveal something that’s in the public interest, which you’ve kept bottled up for fear of exposure. Friends, if that’s the case with you, you can leak your dirty laundry right here with reasonable assurance that your name will stay right here. After all, who takes the time to read comments, much less notice who writes them….and you know mistermuse would never betray a source. So, leak with confidence, my friends, while I will go about my business, and you too will conclude….

 

SIRIUS STUFF – POT – AND PUNS

July 3 is both STAY OUT OF THE SUN DAY and the official start of the DOG DAYS OF SUMMER, the period (July 3-August 11) during which Sirius, the Dog Star, rises at the same time as our star, the sun. The Dog Star, for your information and mine, was so named for its prominence in the constellation cluster Canis Major, which was in turn named for its prominence in the constipation buster* Cannabis Maximus.

* https://www.royalqueenseeds.com/blog-can-cannabis-relieve-constipation-n713

The point is, this is one smokin’ hot season, when (assuming you’re not a mad dog or Englishman) you’d best stay indoors all day with an ice chest full of cold ones within reach, and drink to mistermuse’s posts. What could be cooler than that?

Friends, by staying inside, I’m not prescribing letting yourself go to pot, but the clime this time of year in the Northern Hemp-isphere isn’t fit for a dog (mad or not). It’s simply….

How hot is it? Today I saw two birds using potholders to pull worms out of the ground…. not only that, but after the birds swallowed their prey, I could swear I saw steam coming out of their rears….er, ears. Talk about being madder than a birddog in heat–those birds were so steamed, the eggs they laid were hardboiled.

Speaking of laying an egg, all booed things must come to an end; however, for those fans who think my yolks weren’t so hot, I leave you with these:

HORSE FLIES

It has come to my attention that a flying horse has been spotted by the landed gentry in, of all places, the South Lennox neighborhood of La La land:

It was reported that the winged steed is called Pegasus, although the origin of that mythical name is Greek to me. What is clear is that that spotted bag of hay is very white, and South Lennox is very black, so we can only speculate that Pegasus is either very brazen, or has no more horse sense than a horsefly in a Raid commercial. What we cannot entertain is the notion that mistermuse is a racist pig for suggesting that a white horse is ASKING for trouble in a black ‘hood. After all, we’re talking about a flying horse, not a talking horse (as opposed to a stalking horse, which of course IS asking for trouble).

Unfortunately, the trouble with trouble is that you don’t have to ask for trouble in order to find yourself in it….even in Paradise:

Therefore, friends, my advice to you is don’t ‘nag;’ tighten your shin chaps, pack up your troubles in your old kit bag, and 🙂 🙂 🙂