Better Than NORAD?

"There are three stages of man: He believes in Santa Claus; he doesn't believe in Santa Claus; he is Santa Claus."

The North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) did a great job tracking Santa again this year; but it didn't compare with the early Christmas Eve reports of reindeer poop on the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State building that circumvented modern technology and allowed kids to track where Santa and his reindeer really had been. These sightings are based on help desk reports from the North Pole. As you know, reindeer poop was in demand during the past few years for those folks, who were put on Santa’s naughty list. Entrepreneurs even packaged the stuff with poems like this one:

Santa saved a precious gift
and it's especially for you.
Just a little something extra
and it comes from Rudolph, too!

He knows that you've been naughty
instead of being nice.
Once again you're on the bad list
and he's checked it over twice.

Santa hopes this little poem
doesn’t throw you for a loop.
All you’re getting this year
is a bunch of reindeer poop!

The Elves

Recycled reindeer droppings can be used for mulch, potting soil, pranks, fertilizer, and fiberboard. You can contact the North Pole directly for Reindeer Poop® franchise information. Proceeds from the franchise initiative support Santa's workshop.

While 10 million people from 212 countries had a good time tracking Santa Claus via NORAD, Google Maps and Google Earth, and the Twitter microblogging service, including 24 "Santa cams" around the world that were later put up on Youtube; some small folks were still having fun learning where Rudolph and friends really made pit stops.

I went online to see if there were any web sites dedicated to reindeer poop sightings, as Santa was feeling a bit guilty about some of the splatters, especially the one dropped in mid-town Manhattan at about 11:00 pm EST, flattening the roof of a taxi, plus, the hoof and Claus marks on the forehead of an old lady in Skidmore, Texas; but there were none to be found.

By the time the sleigh reached the New Jersey Pine Barrens, Santa and the reindeer were feeling the side-effects of all those chocolate chip cookies. In an act of desperation, Santa began dropping notes asking kids for nachos and beer, instead of milk and cookies.

You always wondered why the Washington Monument faded in two-tone, right?

Volunteers at the North Pole help desk fielded nearly 195,000 phone calls reporting a need for WINDEX®; over 940,000 e-mail complaints demanding that a pooper scooper be installed on the sleigh; and one from irate House Speaker, John Boehner, who is still running his mouth about it hitting the fiscal cliff.

The root cause analysis?

The 24-hour marathon of "A Christmas Story," interference by Randolph, and Christmas!

New Year’s Resolution 2013 – Occupy Camp David

by Rose A. Valenta

"A fool and his money are soon elected." ~ Will Rogers

After all the years that I have made a list of New Year’s resolutions for the good of my family, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf. This year, I am making one for our POTUS:

" I will spend all my vacation and holiday time at Camp David"

Camp David

Pictured above is Camp David, the Presidential Retreat that I have been paying for every April 15th, since I joined the American work force. My parents paid for it from 1942 until they died. As you can see, it is a great place for our President to spend holidays and vacations. It is already paid for and its on-going maintenance is covered by 70 years-worth of taxpayer contributions.

The American people understand that being Commander in Chief is a tough job and requires some R&R, but as long as we are faced with a $16 trillion deficit that won’t get paid off until the Second Coming, it is only fair that the POTUS develop a frugal job description for himself and his successors, you know, one that falls under the fiscal cliff, which mandates spending vacation time at a resort designed for the purpose. After all, when a soldier takes liberty he pays for the entertainment out-of-pocket. This is not too much of a sacrifice considering that the President will only have to spend off-hours at Camp David for four more years. After the POTUS is out of office, he/she can take the family on exotic personally funded vacations, instead of the extravagant vacations that are currently being taken and straining the American people’s budget.

Nobody gets a free ride in this economy, not even “Head of White Household.”

Just who is in charge of T&E Expense Management at the White House?

You can see where this is headed, right? I am not turning over a new leaf. I will continue to shop at places like Sam’s Club, Wal-Mart, and Costco; as I am already doing a good job economically. My family vacation will remain frugal. My vehicles will continue to be certified pre-owned. My President better wise up.

In the famous words of Will Rogers “There are three kinds of men: The one that learns by reading. The few who learn by observation. The rest of them have to pee on the electric fence for themselves."

Yeah, well, not on my dime, BO!

Happy New Year!

Rosie

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Who Moved My Mascarpone?

An excerpt from "Sitting on Cold Porcelain."



Yesterday, I took old Mrs. Russo shopping at the Italian Market in South Philadelphia. She was buying seven fishes. I had my goal list all ready:

• Olive oil, prosciutto, capicola, and imported pasta from Claudio’s
• Olive salad and cheese from DiBruno’s
• Lamb and pork roasts, and ground beef from Esposito’s
• Locatelli and fresh produce from Giordano’s
• Spices and coffee from the Spice Corner
• Some pastry from Isgro’s

I was looking forward to a refreshing walk, while enjoying the sights and smells of the South Philly marketplace and maybe do some Christmas shopping.

I was asked to pick Teresa up at her sister’s house.

Teresa Russo has been a friend of our family for years. She went to school with one of my aunts. She was born and raised in South Philadelphia. Her temperament is a bit surly, but expected, as she grew up in a tough neighborhood. She doesn’t get around much by herself anymore, so taking her shopping was my idea and good deed for the day.

I decided to take her to lunch at the new BBQ brisket place that just opened up on 9th Street, instead of our normal visit to Pat’s Steaks.

When I picked her up, I noticed that the jacket she was wearing was wrinkled and out of shape.

“What’s up with the jacket?” I asked, as she got into the car.

“Flak jacket underneath.” She answered. “I got it from Louie ‘The Nose.”

“Come on, Teresa, you’re 80 years old. Who’s going to mess with you?”

“Hey, they let that Gambino guy off last week. You know, John ‘junior’ Gatti. Now, they call him ‘Teflon John.’ He don’t have friends in South Philadelphia. Two guys came down from New York last week and started something near the Sports Complex. I smell trouble. Plus, it’s December 7th, like we got the malocchio or something. Maybe we shouldn’t go today.”

“Teresa, people don’t believe in the ‘evil eye’ anymore. You shouldn’t be so superstitious. Of course we should go shopping. Those guys all hang out in a different neighborhood.”

“Yeah? What are we gonna do if they decide they want to eat something at Mama Mia’s and start a fight?”

“Teresa, they don’t mess with old ladies.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m not old.” She said.

When we got to the Italian Market and parked the car at the three dollar lot on Washington Avenue, we were approached by some guy, who said he was from Social Security and was taking a poll. Teresa broke his pencil and told him to get lost.

“OK,” I said. “I take back what I said. They don’t mess with NICE old ladies.”

“Statazete! (Shutup)” she snapped. “We should have stayed home. That guy was a pickpocket. Check your wallet.”

“I have it” I said. “Nothing is missing. Will you just relax and enjoy yourself? Put on your happy face, that should confuse everybody.”

Everything went smoothly until Teresa spotted a black limousine driving up 9th Street. She dove under a vendor table and about 50 live blue crabs and two dozen oranges went scurrying and rolling in all directions. Crustaceans were everywhere. I saw one of them booking down Montrose Street. You could hear the screams for blocks.

“What, are you on somebody’s hit list, or just crazy - are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” She said.

“Yes, what? Yes, you’re crazy or yes, you’re OK?”

“Alright already - both!”

The guy, who rented the vendor table, was furious, cussing in Italian, and running around with tongs trying to gather up the runaway crustaceans before they pinched someone.

“Che cazzo...?” he shouted, “C'è un casino della Madonna qui.” (Meaning “What the hell…?” and his vocabulary went down-hill after that.)

After we paid him for the crabs that were still missing in action, I swore to myself that I would never do another good deed like this again. What started out as a fun shopping trip had turned into a total nightmare.

We never got to Isgro’s.

On the way home, Teresa apologized for her behavior all day. She told me she is into Ronny ‘The Rat’ for $100 to pay for the exterminator.

Apparently, while she was getting out her Christmas decorations two weeks ago, she found mice running around in her basement. Ronny had threatened her. She was supposed to pay him $125 by yesterday, or he would import a hundred mice and set them loose in her house. So, for the rest of the week, until she pays him on Friday, Teresa is spending nights with her sister.

“Ronny is a spostata (jerk).” She said.

“Teresa, the next time you need money, call me. I will lend it to you, no mice and no interest, capiche?”

I went home, poured myself a Chianti, and listened to a little Lou Monte.

IF PLATO TWEETED: A TECHNO-DEFENSE OF SOCRATES

by Ed Tasca

@Platothephilosopher
None wiser than Socrates. The Oracle said so. He’s in danger. I need your help.

@ChaerephonCherrie
I’m heading to my mother’s for lunch.

@Platothephilosopher
Our great teacher could be facing a death sentence. For accusations of impiety.

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
Tell him to shave his beard and dress conservatively.

@Platothephilosopher
True wisdom belongs to the gods, he says. Human wisdom has little value. This is an attempt to show humility and virtue. Is that impiety?

@ChaerephonCherrie
I might come if I catch up on my txting.

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
I’m at the agora. I’m stuck behind another Dionysian parade.

@olympusrules_Meletus
U go to Glucosamine’s party last nite?

@Platothephilosopher
Meletus, you were the one who brought the charges against our great teacher. And all you care about is Glucosamine’s party?

@olympusrules_Meletus
Plato, my inbox is on overload! Give it a rest!

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
Meletus, Glucosamine had a zoo there. I don’t mean his theatre friends. He had a real zoo. Snakes, wild boar, monkeys. The bomb!

@Platothephilosopher
Meletus, please reconsider your “corruption of youth” charge. You asked Socrates if there was a Zeus.

@olympusrules_Meletus
He said there’s no scientific evidence there’s a Zeus. I said then who crtd the universe? As usual, he answered with a ?: Who the hell knows?

@Platothephilosopher
That’s not corruption of youth! And he didn’t say, “Who the hell knows?”

@olympusrules_Meletus
Maybe I was just pissed at him answering questions with another gd question!!!

@Platothephilosopher
Where’s Chaerephon on this?

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
His server’s out.

@olympusrules_Meletus
Socrates is an atheist. I testified as much. Did my duty 4 the good of the state.

@Platothephilosopher
Meletus, you admitted Socrates taught you to believe in spiritual guidance. How could he be an atheist?

@olympusrules_Meletus
We worshipped Dionysus together!! Got totally pissed. That was my spiritual guidance!

@Platothephilosopher
Your accusations about Socrates are contradictory.

@olympusrules_Meletus
It’s not a contradiction. An atheist can still mouth things spiritual. Look at every politician!

@Platothephilosopher
Socrates is not afraid of death. He will die to make his point to the court.

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
What’s wrong with just an “objection?” *s*

@olympusrules_Meletus
Who saw Phidias’s new nude? Hot! He says it’s Aphrodite. Come on, it’s the spittin’ image of Analgesia, the waitress at Sons of Helen bistro.

@Platothephilosopher
Meletus, we’re talking about a man’s life here. A life devoted to searching for the truth.

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
That hairy old bastard.

@Platothephilosopher
Prostatitis, have a little respect. The man’s in the throes of despair.

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
I was talking about Phidias.

@olympusrules_Meletus
Tell him plea bargain. So he goes to Sicily. Yeah, there’s Etna and racketeering. But it’s better than the alternative.#sicilycenteroftheworld

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
Twalking: Dionysian parade getng bigger, crazier. I’m stopng 4 eggs. Scrambled with chopped olives! I love it. Meet me. Whoever.

@Platothephilosopher
Socrates has said we who fear death show our ignorance. Death may be a great blessing. It’s time to demonstrate that personal courage isn’t fu

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
What’s “fu?” What the hll r u talkng about?

@olympusrules_Meletus
You know what? Personal courage is a humongous f.u. when you wind up with a hemlock cocktail.

@Platothephilosopher
Futile. Futile! I was saying Futile in the face of sophism.

@olympusrules_Meletus
If death’s so great, y does everybody pay any quack any amount of $ to cure them of every phlegm and heartburn?

@Platothephilosopher
@olympusrules_Meletus, you’re the impious one, you and Aristophanes. You’re the ones corrupting Athenian youth with your slander and your sarc

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
Sarc? For Olympus’s sake, Plato, learn how to tweet. All ur tweets are 2 long and don’t make sense.

@Platothephilospher
I’m sorry for my intrusive literacy. But a stark 142 character communiqué is a fey child’s game, inadequate to persuade foolish youths to do

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
To do what??

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
I made it to the Sons of Helen bistro. Analgesia, that waitress, isn’t here. Phidias must’ve paid her big time. I want to be a sculptor.

@ChaerephonCherrie
I’m back.

@Platothephilosopher
Chaerephon, Will you join me in defense of Socrates?

@ChaerephonCherrie
U still at it? This disrespecting the Gods thing-don’t want 2 b involved. Who they gonna charge next? I like all the gods, goddesses, demigods

@olympusrules_Meletus
Who’s ur favorite?

@ChaerephonCherrie
I’m not done. I like the Fates, the Muses, the Graces, those centaur things, all the nymphs: the Dryades, the Nereides, the Oreiades, who else

@olympusrules_Meletus
Cherrie, calm down!

@ChaerephonCherrie
The Maliades, the Alseides, the Lampades. I’m not corrupted!!! I want that on record. Who’d I leave out?

@olympusrules_Meletus
The Meliai, nymphs of the ash trees.

@ChaerephonCherrie
We have nymphs in our ash trees?

@olympusrules_Meletus
We have nymphs everywhere! Except in my bedroom!

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
For me it’s btwn Artemis when she’s not PO’d, and Zeus, especially when he morphs into animals and screws babes all over the archipelago.

@Platothephilosopher
Socrates has no favorites. He says we learn moral goodness and truth from ALL the immortals.

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
I’m signing off. I’m getting lunch. And then I have to walk my dog. Tip: follow Glucosamine #FF. He’s funny and he knows when to twitter off

@olympusrules_Meletus
Epicurus Don’t sign off. Tell Glucosamine I want an invite 2 next bash. TMB

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
Lysistrata Dress Rehearsal. Comp tickets 4 2N!

@olympusrules_Meletus
Fab! I’m going!

@Platothephilosopher
Aristophanes, join me at the courthouse, please. Many follow you.

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
I’m at the theatre. Lysistrata looks like a hit.

@Platothephilosopher
Let me tell you what Socrates is saying about acquiring virtue.

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
Screw Socrates. Who gives a s__t what he’s saying about acquiring virtue. My inbox is on overload with this Socrates crap!!!!

@ChaerephonCherrie
That’s how MY server went down!

@Platothephilosopher
Aristophanes, come to the court before the show. They will come if you do.

@Aristophanes3xfestivalwinner
I have to do a costume change. Lysistrata is wearing something that looks like it was torn off a Roman whore.

@olympusrules_Meletus
OMG! I just found a great place selling figs. 2 drachmae and u fill a basket. Agora_n.w.corner.com

@Platothephilosopher
I’ve arrived at the court. Socrates says he’s a misunderstood benefactor to Athens, not an enemy! As such he should be given free meals, if we

@olympusrules_Meletus
If we what???

@ChaerephonCherrie
My server went out again. What’s going on? I’m at my mother’s. She made my fav, Spanakopita. YUM! Recipe@Cherrieblog.com

@Prostatitis<3sEpicurus
I’m back! Is Plato done? I’m not following him anymore. Glucosamine’s, next full moon.

@Platothephilosopher
STOP. Socrates has an idea. He suggests he just pay a fine of 100 drachmae. As he has little funds of his own, I say we all chip in, let’s say

@olympusrules_Meletus
LOL. LOL. LOL.

~~~
This week’s guest columnist, Ed Tasca, Lives in Ajijic, Mexico. He is originally from Philadelphia, PA, and has authored six works of fiction. Ed writes a humor column for Ojo del Lago, Mexico’s largest English language magazine.

Ed is the grand prize winner in the 2011 Screenplay Search Competition. Winner of the prestigious Robert Benchley Society Humor Award for 2009. Also winner of humorpress.com awards, M. Culbertson’s Life and Humor Award, Ojo del Lago Award for Humor. Humor essays have appeared in publications in the U.S., Canada, England, Italy and Mexico. Anthologized in: American’s Funniest Humor, 2006, Laugh Your Shorts Off, 2009. Provides an explanation of the vast influence of Robert Benchley in a new edition of Robert Benchley’s humor essays.

Did the First Turducken Happen in Mid-Air?

by Rose A. Valenta

“Bah! Humbug!" ~ Ebenezer Scrooge

How do you actually plan for a fiasco? I asked myself after planning to put a bicycle lock on the can of whipping cream in the refrigerator. The adults misbehave at Christmas worse than the kids. Uncles Harry and Dick have never quite grown up, thanks to the enablers, who keep inviting them over for dinner. I pondered their next move.

Last year, Christmas got off to a good start. Just before dinner, my son-in-law hit his head on an heirloom sconce in the dining room; it crashed, sending about a thousand tiny glass slivers all over the floor. This was even before beer and wine were served.

Plates and glasses were snatched off the set table and rewashed as a just-in-case maneuver. Luckily, the buffet was safely in the next room. Condiments were moved closer to the Infant of Prague statue and prayed over, while salt was thrown over about a dozen shoulders.

At prayer time, our 6-year-old pagan, Missy, was sucking her thumb and screaming expletives that she had learned from her older brother during an Xbox game. We used duct tape and said an Act of Contrition. We also threatened to blow up the NORAD Santa tracker before he got to our house.

We had ham and turkey, and a wide variety of side dishes. Since our family is diverse, the sides ranged from carrot raisin casserole to Arroz Rojo to pot stickers. Everybody avoided cousin Kim's Kung Pao gizzards and "Elf balls." At least that is what it sounded like she said.

After beer was served, Uncles Harry and Dick got into a heated argument over the White House Christmas tree. Harry swore that it was a Kwanzaa tree with seven branches, while Dick said that was unconstitutional, unless they also added a Menorah and Nativity scene. They also fought over whether or not the very first Turducken happened in mid-air. Every year, they pick something ridiculous to fight about.

By dessert time, Harry had already spritzed whipping cream on Dick’s nose, hoping the family dog, Spuds, would attack him. Spuds maintained his cool, drooled over the cheerleaders on the TV, then looked at Dick’s nostrils and groaned. In his youth, Dick used to look like Jimmy Durante; now that he is older, and certain body parts are succumbing to gravity, he closely resembles a Proboscis monkey.



I already had Harry’s sleeping bag out in the barn with the kerosene heater. I was leaving nothing to chance.

The men went into the family room to watch football, teenagers were champing at the bit to go to the mall the next day, little ones sat playing Penguins and Facebook games on several hi-tech iPods and notebook PCs, our Grandson was on his 25th rendition of "I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas" on the Nintendo guitar, the cat was chasing its eye-floaters, and the rest of us sat around the dining room table gossiping. We finally agreed that the first Turducken actually did happen in mid-air over Uncle Harry's house and dropped down the chimney while he was watching his signature film "Alive" for the 100th time.

My eyes were as glazed over as our left-over ham by 11:00 pm, so I excused myself and went upstairs; leaving my husband to entertain our overnight guests. About five minutes later, he snuck upstairs and accused me of abandoning ship.

“Football doesn’t turn me on,” I said. “Besides, look at the bright side, your mundane life would suck without overnight house guests trying to come up with a great theme song for the NY Giants.”

I am so not looking forward to another family fiasco!

© 2010-2012, Valenta, All rights reserved.

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