The Waterboard by M.W. Thomas

Ten Things You Must Know To Start Your Tuesday

1. If you ate a bag of carrots everyday, starting now, you could have orange eyeballs by next Halloween.
2. Deaf people make the happiest couples.
3. In theory, it works in practice. In practice, it doesn't.
4. As embryos, the first thing that develops is our anus. Then our thumb.
5. How the Amish hunt deer: a group of them sneak up on one and build a barn around it.
6. Some people have their head so far up their a$$ they look normal.
7. People who speak French are called "francophones." People who speak English are called "anglosaxophones."
8. The difference between a fart and a bassoon: vibrato.
9. Safe sex experts emphasize the importance of washing the condom thoroughly after each use.
10. There are only 92 naturally occurring elements on Earth. Bitchium isn't one of them.

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My Hat

I will only be addressing men's headgear today, not that you were really expecting a spiel on such haberdashery. Women's hats are strange articles that are beyond my powers of pontification. I have seen some that look more like inverted soup tureens than headdresses. Who can forget Lucy's flower pot hat that topped off her potato sack dress from the Europe episodes of I Love Lucy. At least Lucille Ball was jesting. No we are here to talk about manly hats, such as you might find the Marlboro Man underneath. That means we're not discussing ball caps either. Okay, but just for a moment.

Caps are the dross of the hat world.  Caps are what you wear if you didn't have time to shampoo. They come in handy to catch the barf after a night of hard drinking, but that's the highest praise I can find for them. And why do they always have to say something? Everyone of them ought to just say, "I'm a dumb effing cap."

In contrast, I am resplendent in my Wilson's Leather Cowboy Hat. Now, that's a great hat! It attracts compliments to me such as, "That's a great hat!" I said it attracts compliments; I didn't say they were imaginative ones.

A hat like this one has many uses. It keeps off the rain and snow. It deflects the urine if I happen to be walking under an overpass. When I get home, I tip my hat over and deposit my scarf in it.  See! It's a scarf-holder too! In fact, it could be a receptacle for many things, but just not barf.  No sir. Not my hat.

I got it at the outlet store for about sixty bucks. What a steal! It was like poaching ivory. You should get one.

There you have it. Here is a tip of the hat - to my hat.

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The Waterboard (Valentine Edition)

I showed this cartoon to some colleagues at work and they said they "didn't get it."  Is it a fail? I leave it to you. Use the voting button to the right to register your opinion. Is this edition of The Waterboard funny or not?

Skinny and Single

I've mined another gem of a blog that I really like.  It's called Skinny and Single and by gum it's my kind of blog! The author, Laura McGowan, describes herself as "sexy in a ripped sheet."  I have no idea what that means, but I gather she's Canadian, so I'll let it pass. She's funny and bright, and she will throw a sharp elbow now and then, but always says sorry afterward. I'm not sure how sincerely. It could be like the Imperial Japanese politely apologizing after seizing your Pacific island paradise.

Ms. McGowan has done very well for herself in the blogosphere.  She has a jillion readers. And look at this list of accolades:

• Social Influencer - BlogHer
• schmutzie.com 2014 Canadian Weblogs Award Nominee
• Nominated Site: 2014 Great Dating Blog Awards
• Several other nominations...

Okay, maybe friends and family are putting their thumbs the scales for the nominations listed on her home page. Still, that's quite a trophy shelf for someone who has been blogging for less than a year.

Here's the fun part for me. This blog, both in writing style and content, more closely resembles mine than any other I have come across to-date. Her posts are short, breezy, humorous, and for the most part off-the-wall. Her layout is clean, simple, and easy to read.  Okay, she uses the more powerful Wordpress, while I use Google Blogger; and she has better features on her page than I do, but in principle, we seem to be like-minded.

It gives me hope. If her blog can be such a smashing success, maybe mine can be too?! She sets a precedent, I pray. Of course, I'm not Canadian. If that's the deciding factor, I could be doomed.

You must add Ms. McGowan to your reading list. And for me, here's another for my blogroll.  I swear to Hades I'll get around to adding that Page someday. Google Blogger makes that embarrassingly easy.

The Warm On Women

Believe it or not, I don't make a living by blogging and tweeting. Yes, I confess I have a day job. I toil in an engineering department. I console myself and amuse my colleagues with Dilbert strips I post outside my cubicle.

But I've digressed before I've even started. Over the years, there has been an unmistakable growth in the participation of women in the profession. Don't misunderstand, the population of the workplace is still majority male, but the percentage of the fairer sex we see now is considerable. And I mean women doing engineering, not just administrating or bean counting.

This increased participation is good for many reasons, but I want to point out a very particular, little talked about benefit. This is it: a workplace that is more balanced between the genders is a workplace that is more like real life.

In the real world there are men and women. So, unless you like weird dystopias, at the work place there should be men and women. This observation seems almost too irrefutable to comment on any further, but I have some more time to kill.

At an all male work place, what can you expect but mindless conversations about sports, cars, and Jennifer Aniston's ass? Oh, and hear clearly misogynist jokes like this one:

Man to friend: I had a really embarrassing Freudian slip the other day. I was at the airport and I saw this chick with really huge chest beefers. When I went to the counter to check in my bags, I slipped and said, "I need to check my bags through to Tits-burgh."

Friend to Man: Oh, that's nothing. I had a whopper of Freudian slip that beats that one. One morning I was having breakfast with my wife. I meant to say, "Please pass the cream and sugar." Instead, I slipped and said, "You ruined my whole effing life bitch."

Actually that's pretty funny. I'm sorry ladies. Do forgive me.

An all female work place might be even worse. From the vicious squabbles I've observed, it seems apparent that women very often don't like working with other women.

Woman #1: (Shouts halfway across the office.) Hey! Felicia! Can you resend that cost sheet? My inbox was full. It must have bounced!

Woman #2 in next cubicle: Will you stop shouting? I am trying to concentrate!

Woman #1: Shut up!

Woman #2: Don't tell me to shut up! I'm a grown woman! No one tells me to shut up!

Woman #1: Well I'm telling you to shut up!

Woman #2: Only if you want a roll of packing tape wrapped around your head!

YadaYadaYada. Perhaps in the all-woman  you hear male-insensitive jokes like this one:

Why does the doctor slap the baby's bottom when it's born? To knock the penises off the smart ones!

(That's funny too.) Anyway, welcome to work, ladies. Please be punctual.

The Waterboard by M.W. Thomas (Special Edition)

Retirement, Revisited

I have found myself pondering the notion of retirement again the past few days, and as always also found myself pulled into orbit around the question: what in the world would I do with myself?  I could certainly invest more in my blog, but does anyone really want 8,000 words a day of me? The look of my blog could use a bit more construction, but to tell the truth, I like it simple and clean. I see some blogs that are so busy and fussy with interior decoration that as I look at it, I feel like I am choking on a urinal cake and trying to wash it down with a placenta smoothie.

Sure, I would definitely read more.  More blogs, more books, more short stories, more poetry, great speeches. Maybe even finish reading the Restoration Hardware catalog.

I'll need a hobby.  I can spend my weekends at yard sales.  Who says I don't need 400 fishing poles? I know my wife will love those curios I'll bring home to her; like Stewardess Barbie, or that old rusty Folger's can full of bobby pins. Does anyone know where I can lay my hands on a pair of Man from U.N.C.L.E. walkie-talkies?

Bird-watching, I hear, is the fastest growing outdoor sport these days.  I already have the binoculars. It would be a steep learning curve though.  Is that a wren or a penguin?

Boring: philately and numismatics.

I could run around town with my camera helping people snap those hard-to-get butt-selfies. Or just better selfies period. I would carry around costumes and props to add interest. Wouldn't you like a selfie of yourself made up like Mr. Bean? No? Why not? Never mind.

The more I think of it, retirement beckons. Anyway, as they say, it better to decide to retire, before your boss decides it for you.