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Tuesday, January 12, 2016

The least wonderful time of the year












                           It's the Least Wonderful Time of the Year

 The three best words that describe January are as  follows and I quote, stink, stank, stunk!
 I quote 'The Grinch' because he use to love this time of year. No more is the belch of whomboozelers, the annoying tinkle tinkle from zingdingglers or the feast of the beast by Christmas singers!
The holidays are over! Decorations are down and boxed away. No more parties! No more feasts! The weather is all rain, but we dare not complain because the rest of Canada is much worse. 
The only holiday comfort left is the burning logs on TV. 
Craving a fiery log fix I extend an arm out of its winter nest that I've fashioned from three blankets and a sleeping bag on my big EasyBoy chair. TV remote in hand I tune to the happy, comforting, in this time of need, holiday hang on.    
WHAT!.........it's gone! This too! I want my EM-TV! (EM= embers)  Its the only reality TV I watch. I never saw how it ended! Did it just burn out like all the kid TV stars of the 80s? Was it snuffed out like an Italian gangster?
Why? It was as entertaining as most of the shows that are on TV now. 
Oh sure they might have mixed it up a bit by burning different things from time to time. 
First could be all the wrapping paper and bows from all the holiday gifts. The different colours that burn from the papers and watch the bows melt and smoke before they combust into hot hungry flames. 
Then in February have a Valentine Special. The burning of pictures of old boyfriends. The creepy Valentine cards from people like the sweat pants guy at the end of the hall. We all have items of a love gone wrong that need to burn.
Easter, could bring about the melting of cute chocolate animals that  we didn't want to pass our gums. Watch as they droop, melt and liquefy like old vegetables in the crisper you bought at the start of the year to start a healthier lifestyle but didn't. 
Spring Break and the kids are at home alone could bring about live phone in shows where household items from the bathroom and kitchen cabinets are set ablaze. The pretty colours and the oh so toxic fumes all safely kept away from harming little Johnny's lungs. 
Late night, for the adults you could have a phone in show on stuff from the garage. That stuff burns real big! ( I'm starting to sound like a pyro!)
How about a divorce special. He burns her stuff....she burns his stuff. We're talking Emmy material here.
Then there's all the summer fires. Camp sing songs fires around a cheerful circular center point. Scary story fires, all told across hungry licking flames that dance shadows across terrified faces. Friday night bonfires of drunken idiots that end with no eyelashes and much singed hair all to the cry  of 'I love you man!'
You could have different wood night. Maple he will Mondays! Fir-get-me-not Fridays!  Concluding with Spruce me up Saturdays.
All these possibilities and only half the years gone. TV programmers where are you? This is a sure hit!  If you guys won't maybe I'll start my own network. Call it the CBC (Continually Burning Channel). Not to be confused with the other CBC which replaces the 'Burning' with boring.
The need for fire has been part of our earliest history. Comfort, togetherness, safety, warmth and light was provided by man learning to recreate the flame. It's roots run deep in civilization. Is it no wonder then that we all are guilty of watching a few burning logs crackling away to a time not forgotten. Happier times. Simpler times. A time before stink, stank, stunk!

Bob Niles






Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Fwd: Weight loss art

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Fwd: I Tried Everything to Lose Five Pounds

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> I Tried Everything to Lose Five Pounds
> and then
> I Lost Two-Hundred and Ten Pounds on the Greyhound System
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> Every year about this time it's the same old thing with me and my belt. Do I buy a new one or is there enough leather in the old one to drill another hole? Another hole into a piece of leather so long that by the time I have one end into the second belt loop of my pants, the buckle and twelve inches of premium cowhide are still snaking their way across the floor.
> Why even wear a belt? Why not just let my ever expanding belly run free? Let it bump into people! Let it rub up against total strangers on the bus! Make them feel as uncomfortable as I am. And besides, without a belt I could tie these shoes (if there're the ones with the laces, I can't see from here) without the fear of passing out. Without a belt maybe my face won't turn that bright red waddling up them four stairs to the bakery. And, maybe I wouldn't sweat like a boxer in training when the weather gets warm enough to melt ice-cream.
> Or maybe I could lose weight?
> Been there done that, bought the XXXL tee-shirt.
> My Mother-in-Law figures it should be easy for a loser like me to loose weight. God bless her for believing in me but I've tried more times than a Mars Bar has calories. And, I've tried every method known to late night television. All the gadgets, pills, powders, pulleys and plastic power pumping weight reducing marvels of modern science that this one person can afford on easy monthly payment plans.
> It's that darned good looking tanned guy with more ruts in his belly than a farm dirt road after a rain storm, with his equally tanned good looking female counter part, that want to make me, a better me. All you have to do is lose weight and all your problems are solved, or so they would have you believe. And after you lose the weight your lighting is even better. Your before picture with all the extra baggage has that glaring bright light, all so flattering. Then once the weight magically disappears the lighting is warm and soft and makes your skin look like rippled toffee, that glistens and oozes health.
> That couple suck me in every time! And they're on every channel! Oh sure their face is different, but the well toned body is the same. They just change the head for each and every new gimmick that comes along. And gosh golly darn they all fit under the bed. Like this is the main selling point. "Well I wasn't going to buy the thirty-seven in one body toning, weight reducing, carbon fiber, life extending, job enhancing, the kids will thank you, wife will love you, three year easy payment exercise marvel, but hey it fits under the bed!" Every bed in my house has some sort of life changing equipment under it! Because, they gave me the idea to put it there! Every time I say my bedtime prayers I bang my knees! If they had of told me it fits easily in front of the car in the garage, it'd probably be there.
> Why? Because they use hypnosis to make us believe in their product. There can be no other reason. How else can you explain spending thirty dollars on forty-two cents of rubber tubing that you somehow magically think will be the answer to all of your problems. And then for some reason you want to stuff it under the bed.
> I even put my weight loss pills under the bed. Mostly for fear of embarrassment someone may find out I'm on them. Oh sure I'll leave the hemorrhoid cream in the medicine cabinet for all a visitor to see, but not my diet pills.
> This embarrassment I suffer from is due to the fact I've been scammed several times on my way to an easy healthier skinny me. Like the time I sent away fifty-two dollars to South Africa for an appetite suppressing pill that's made from crushed bushes that tribesmen have used for centuries to curb hunger. They didn't mention that that was all they had to eat. Just take thirty-two pills before any meal to reduce your caloric intake, the label read. And every time I did this, I did leave food behind on my plate. The total equivalent to the pile of thirty-two pills I'd eaten before dinner. Not only did it not work, it made my pooh smell funny.
> My Mother-in-Law, who never let anything slip by her without saying something, made sure she let me know she noticed 'The Smell'. And, that although she welcomed my efforts to lose the fat this change of smell in the house would probably affect her sensitive asthma condition.
> Next were the weight loss pills from Sweden. The ones that Border Customs gave me so much trouble on. Never wrap anything in plain brown paper coming from Sweden. Why? Because my Mother-in-Law now thinks of me as some kinda pervert!
> These pills I found out after a couple days were just laxatives, which I should of realized sooner because after the first day I couldn't leave the house. It got so bad I was dumping food I hadn't eaten yet! I was deathly afraid of sneezing in public, or private. If I had sneezed at work, (which they had phoned the house to see where I had been for the last week. I was there, just in the can) I would have to change jobs and move to a different city.
> In mid-January I signed up for a two year gym membership. By the end of January I was only going there to use the showers. All the hot water I wanted and no Mother-in-Law banging on the door to use the commode. Owners of the gym loved that I showered there, they said I was an inspiration for the others to work out harder, kind of an impersonal personal trainer.
> My next weight loss plan was a fail safe food system that would be delivered right to my door. Donny Osmonds little sister with that great big toothy grin, all looking slim and trim praising the weight reducing qualities of prepackaged food had me hooked. All my meals for a whole month delivered right to my house. Problem was in two weeks I had eaten what they sent me for the whole month. Now what? Wait two more weeks for food? I'll starve! Hey maybe that's how Marie lost all the weight? So what I did was sign my wife up, unbeknownst to her, and I ate that food as well. I now was eating two skinny peoples meals, and started to put on weight. I began to despise that Marie with her slim body standing beside her fat picture looking all happy and healthy, she's doing something more than just eating this crap.
> My Wife then told me about an article she had read about losing weight in one of her women's magazines. "Drink lots of water before you eat" she said "This will fill up your stomach and help reduce your food intake." Food intake? Why can't she just say eating? She thinks she's so much better than me because she's skinny. Skinny people are like that, they make fun of us gravity enriched people. She's getting just like that Marie!
> So I tried the water idea before each meal. I would drink three large glasses of water before I sat down to eat. Then half way through my hot meal I would have to take a bathroom break. To solve this I just took my dinner to the bathroom and eat while on the toilet. I really didn't mind, but I would leave the door open so I could hear the news on the TV. And, with only one bathroom in the house and my Mother-in-Law staying with us for an indefinite period of time, well it was bound to happen. She walked past the bathroom door and saw me sitting on the throne in all my glory. And her with her weak heart, and the cost of the ambulance, combine this with the medical costs at the hospital......well it was either close the door and become socially ignorant on news and views or try another plan of attack on the battle of the bulge.
> We switched battle plans.
> "Try eating from a smaller plate." my wife suggested across her mothers hospital bed, "I heard this will reduce the size of the portion intake."
> What's with you skinny people? Is eat a bad word?
> So now I'm eating from a plate that Is used to put under a teacup when company came over for scones. The rule my wife imposes is that I can put as much food as I want on the plate, but I can only have one plate. So I pile it high with as much food as I can. This plan for weight reduction finds me picking an awful lot of food from in, and around my swimsuit area every meal. I can't keep my food on this tiny plate, and I'm so hungry I don't want to lose a single morsel. I'm now chasing every calorie from my plate to my pants to the chair and on to the floor. I'm now giving the dog serious competition. It's my food! I want it! I need it! OOOH did the wife just drop something? Darn, Rex beat me to it!
> Which brings me to the best dietary system I've found so far, and quite by accident. Eating food from off the floor. Yes folks if you want to lose five, or ten pounds in just two days simply send me thirty-five dollars plus shipping and handling and I'll ship you a three day supply of my "Food Found on Floor." Now the beautiful tanned girl says "Guys do you want to lose that unsightly round gut? Do you want to have the body you've always dreamed of? And, without the sweat and pain of working out for hours every day." Then big fat me says, "Why just look at me, I use to look like this!" Camera changes to a picture of Marie Osmond....... Ooops how'd that get there. Camera now on a picture of me in a Speedo Swimsuit, and rubber boots cutting the lawn. "And now three days later look at the difference!" Soft lighting washes over me as I turn sideways and suck in my gut.
> Okay, okay this is all a dream, but losing five pounds wasn't. Five pounds! That's one-quarter of twenty pounds! I'm almost there! Just by eating food I found on the floor. So if you want to lose weight quickly, just do as I did, eat food off the floor and puke your way to a healthier, slimmer you.
> One quick note, make sure all the Swedish laxatives have cleared your system before you start eating off the floor. And for heavens sake remember to close the bathroom door! My Mother-in-Law thinks I'm on some sort of Super Model Diet. And I disgust her.
> Tomorrow I'm losing 210 lbs., I'm taking her to the bus station. I'm so excited about my extra weight loss, thanks to the Greyhound System.
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> by Bob Niles
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Monday, December 21, 2015

Jingles art

Created by my now 9 yr. old granddaughter Gabriella.

Old Jingles

Old Jingles


We all have that singing, dancing, repetitive, once amusing now annoying Christmas decoration. It caught our attention in the store and somehow, through the magic of marketing danced and sang its way into our shopping bag. And now every Christmas we have to live with it's annoying talents for a month.
For us, it's a dog wearing a toque with a big old bell on the end of it. You press it's paw and it starts to dance from side to side ringing that now annoying bell. Up and down back and forth he dances singing Jingle Bells and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. Over and over our grandkids, who watch the same cartoons 50 times, squeeze it's paw creating the repetitive Christmas carols that if I hear that stupid dog sing again I'll go crazy.
At first it was fun watching the first grandkid on her first Christmas react to the scary dancing dog. Her eyes would get wide and try to make out exactly what she was seeing. By her second Christmas she would laugh a bit and then turn to hug grandpa or grandma because it made her a bit unsure about her safety. And because grandpas and grandmas are 'hug junkies', we would do it over and over again.
By the third Christmas she would cautiously squeeze the spot on it's paw as if it were hot. She'd then jump back as it started to dance and sing and laugh her head off.
It was all fun when we only had one grandkid. But then the second granddaughter came along. And for her first Christmas old Jingles (the first granddaughter named him) went through two sets of double 'A' batteries. Our first Grandkid Gabriella, who is now four, played it over and over..... and did I mention OVER again!
Time and Christmases past and our oldest granddaughter is now eight. Two more grandkids have joined the fold. Twin boys, who are now three.
Recognizing a possible problem this Christmas I removed the batteries from Jingles, and lied. Yes lied. Lied to our own grandkids, that Jingles was broken. I know there must be a special extra hot spot in hell for grandparents who lie to their own grandkids. But, I couldn't take another year of Jingles throwing his head back and forth ringing that bell on the end of his toque singing at the top of his voice Jingle Bells and We Wish You a Merry Christmas!
This master hell bound plan of grandma's and mine lasted but for one Sunday visit. The next Sunday, the well schooled eight year old in battery toys reasoned that it probably needed new batteries.
"Ah,..Too bad grandpa doesn't have any more 'AA' batteries" I lied. AGAIN!. - Pour more coals on the fire.
"No worries" Gabriella sang, "I'll get them from another toy."
What! She can't do that can she? I didn't see that coming! I would of removed every battery in the house if I thought she'd grasped that knowledge. Or I would of kidnapped old Jingles and hid him under heavy boxes in the garage. Transplanting batteries! Now I could only hope for a 'AA' rejection between toys.
She went through all the battery toys like my wife at a BOGO shoe sale. Toys flying everywhere. Assessing battery size of each toy and if she could live without it till stingy old grandpa got around to buying new batteries. Gabriella and Charlotte (now five) both agreed that the 'Little People' castle would still play fine without its two 'AA' batteries.
My only hope was they would put them in old Jingles butt the wrong way. Mix up the positive and negative poles. That's when their dad, who hasn't done anything around here since he was 16, made the girls aware of the laws of polarity.
It was at this point I did something that I'm not proud of. Without thinking I said that if Gabriella got it working she could take it home with her.
I have now ruined my boy's Christmas from here on after, for all eternity with this singing blight of a decoration. -More coals on my fire.
But my problem is solved. No more Jingles!
So because of the fact my wife was now down one decoration she went out and bought this ever so cute snowman surrounded by kittens that do a squeaky sing song of Frosty the Snowman. The grandkids just love it!

Bob Niles

Monday, December 14, 2015

'Twas art

'Twas that day before Christmas

'Twas that day before Christmas


'Twas that day before Christmas
As I looked out my house,
"This rain's never ending!" or so said my spouse.

"Get outside, hang the lights round the chimney with care,
Get it done! Hurry up, before Nicholas gets there!"

The children are no help all sleeping in bed,
No visions of sugar plums, but iPads instead.

While Mama dictates I put on a cap
I slip on my boots and a coat with two snaps.

I opened the door and stepped in a puddle.
Then slipped on the lawn and now I see double.
My wife's in the window she doubles and laughs,
I staggered and tumbled, tripped over the trash.

My keys pierce my breast ,as I've fallen you know.
The wind how it blusters then swirls and blows.
My eyes start to water, some would say tear,
I've fallen on Rudolf and other reindeers.
I'm a little old mind you, but lively and quick,
I'm up in a moment all covered in sh...shtuff?

The poop from a beagle had made a large stain.
And I yelled and I shouted and called it bad names.
Dog- gone - it, dang- blasted that dog of the Nixon's!
Uncommon, dumb stupid, ah darn it I'm freezin'.
I hobble to the porch then lean against the wall,
Ah-choo-a, ah-choo-a, I sneeze, almost fall.

"Change to dry clothes! You'll catch a cold and die!"
My wife how she shouted. Her voice how it flys.
So into the house, off trousers and boots,
My coat with two snaps all covered in poop.

And then in a twinkling I knew what to do,
For hanging and dangling of lights from my roof.
I'd wear tightie whities that's all that I'd wear!
Outside on the ladder I just didn't care.

It's only tightie whities on my birthday suit,
As I climbed up the ladder midsts laughter and hoots.
'Twas the neighbor named Floyd who lives just out back.
"Hey Santa!" he said "Where's your clothes and you sack?"

My eyes they were stinging, the rain made them blurry.
My cheeks were like roses, my nose like a cherry.
My fingers were freezing, my toes were so cold.
As I worked from the ladder, hang lights, as I'm told.

The ring of a hook I held tight in my teeth.
My hands worked the cord the lights and the wreath.
I hold tight to the ladder with my face and my belly.
The ladder it shakes! It's my wife and she's yelling.

"Hey chubby! Two lights, both match, you need help?"
And I laughed as yelled "A go #%*%#€ yourself!"
With the blink of an eye I've set the screw head.
Hang green lights together her anger I dread.
She spoke not a word, didn't go berserk.
Then I climbed down the ladder ""I'm finished work!"

Then laying her fist aside of my nose,
It felt rather odd, then my face met my toes.
I then sprang to my feet, gave Floyd a whistle.
We hopped in the car, drove to town ore the trestle.

And I heard her exclaim as we drove out of sight
"Two green lights together, together green lights!"

Bob Niles

PS. #%*%#€ spells bite kids. It's an old ancient spelling.