Something I DIDN'T NEED to be REMINDED of...
I'm already FEELING MY AGE, thank you...

Sometimes I really wrack (what's left of) my brain, in fervent desperation, trying to come up with something, ANYTHING to post. Well, not this time around. I innocently went into town today for a Chicken Fried Steak (breakfast of champions, after all), and of course, I can never have a restaurant meal without a newspaper. They just kinda go together, y'know? And, I came across an article that almost, but not quite, blew my mind. The article was about special health clubs for those over 50. Well, I guess as the baby 'boomers' get older and begin to 'fizz out', Athletic Clubs around the nation have, all of a sudden, discovered a new niche, that of catering to old folks. Now, wait a minute. I thought 50 was (relatively) young. Whenever someone in his '50s passes away, the general sentiment is usually that whoever passed was YOUNG. Hmmm; young in death, but old in life. Okay, I now know for sure that Everything I Know Is Wrong...

Some features of these geriatric health clubs? Well, for starters, no ignorant loudmouthed rap crap blasting out over the speaker system. That would be reason enough for me to join up right there. Also, the exercise machines will be outfitted with all kinds of special devices in order to make the act of exercising easier. Easy exercise? In a way, it makes sense, but "easy exercise"? I kinda thot the idea of a health club was to work out, pump up, do those 'reps', 1,2,3,4; you know, tough, hardcore exercising. But at these over-the-hill clubs, the exercise machines, I suppose, are tailored for those whose joints don't exactly help them move around in smooth, effortless motion. And, yes, I resemble that. And I 'spose I needed to do some relatively light working out after inhaling all of the 10,000 calories in that aforementioned Chicken Fried Steak. But, since I have two feet and two legs that work okay (for a little while, anyway), I guess I'll just walk. THAT'S free, at least for the time being.
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I 'spose I should be ashamed of myself, but he's such an easy target...Anytime I see a photo depicting George W. Bush trying to be Prezzidential, I'm tempted to deface it somehow, but I can't go around defacing all the Dubya photos I see; there ain't that much time in a century. However, what's coming up here is Dubya with dear old Dad...

Another thing that makes me wonder why I pay for cable TV...You've heard of Gene Simmons, the former Kiss bass player who evidently has a six-foot tongue...well, KISS extended its collective 15-minutes of musical fame by painting their faces and appealing to teenagers who were barely experienced enough to operate a gumball machine. Gene Simmons, on his own, has stretched out his post-Kiss-3 minutes of fame to an agonizing degree by being the humorless, boorish, overdone subject of a reality show, "Gene Simmons' Family Jewels". Well, for all of you who are gluttons for punishment, coming up this Sunday, on the A&E network, is a Gene Simmons reality-show MARATHON...and for those of you who can't get enough of his tongue, you'll be able to view 14 CONSECUTIVE EPISODES of what is possibly A&E's worst series since the long-cancelled and not-missed "Growing Up Gotti" starring the daughter of a late mob boss and her spoiled-brat punk kids. Gosh. TV pretty much reeks these days, huh?
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One of the objectives of this blog (what, this blog actually has a purpose?) is to showcase some of the oppression that the little guy faces in everyday society. Stuff that I've thought about, and others have thot about as well. And I have proof that someone's thought about this topic. In 1972, a Canadian group, The Five Man Electrical Band, recorded a song that turned into a monster hit called "Signs"...you know, "Signs, signs, everywhere a sign..." Now hear me out...this next photo could be described by Jerry Falwell's "Moral Majority" as sacreligious, but that was not my intent. It's just that the highly esteemed subject of this next photo came upon a sign...the sign is real; the depiction is not...


...so I got me a pen and a paper, and I made up my own little sign; I said, "Thank you Lord for thinkin' 'bout me; I'm alive and doin' fine..."
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The underwhelming qualities of weekend MSNBC: I've been watching MSNBC off and on for several years now; why, well, anymore I just don't know. On the weekends, the network largely dispenses with its current talk-show-debate-and-incessantly-analyze-everything that's going on format, and they instead run re-runs of programs about prisons, mysteries, and anything else they can think of to use up time. MSNBC has been re-running a lot of the same programs for OVER 5 YEARS NOW. And, I guess they don't care. Because, on some of those reruns, John Seigenthaler and Stone Phillips, two guys who have fallen by the wayside in the MSNBC/NBC organization, are oftentimes the featured hosts of these oft-repeated OLD programs. And they still manage to attract advertisers. Strange, huh? Of course, the early-morning former-Imus slot is pretty underwhelming, too; it consists of Joe Scarborough and his yuppie friends, who are becoming more unwatchable all the time. Can you say "train wreck?" I knew ya could...
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I just thought of something else that could be included in the cold-drink machines at an over-50 health club...plastic bottles filled with that high-energy drink, "ENSURE". Personally, I think it's a great idea worth stealing. If "Ensure" doesn't replenish ya, nothing will, right?