Here’s the answer. What’s the question?


If you haven’t visited Gibber Jabberin, you should give it a try. Especially if you feel like playing a game of Jeopardy today.

Today’s Jeopardy category is EDUCATION and today’s Jeopardy answer is FIFTY PERCENT OF DOCTORS.

Now go over to the site and provide your question to that answer.

Have fun.

(Comments will be disabled on this post, so you must go to the original post to enter your answers.)

Originally posted on Gibber Jabberin:

Gibber Jeopardy

Gibber wrote about an idea I had for her blog in a post she wrote last week. She wrote:

Doobster from over at  gave me an idea I want to run by all of you as well.

He thought it might be fun to have a day where someone gives an answer, and we all have to figure out the question. Like Jeopardy. I wonder what kind of answers you would all come up with.So maybe I’d set one day aside for that if you all like the idea.

And then Gibber asked me — I’m Doobster —  if I would “guest post” these Jeopardy-like answers and she suggested that I do it every Wednesday. You know, happy hump day. And I thought sure, why not?

Piece of cake, right? Easy-peasy. I mean seriously, how hard can it be?  So I said sure, why not?

What was I…

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Posted by on October 22, 2014 in Blogging, Humor


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One-Liner Wednesday — Life


Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering — and it’s all over much too soon.

Woody Allen

This is my contribution to Linda G Hill’s One-Liner Wednesday prompt.


Posted by on October 22, 2014 in Blogging


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Small talk

Small-TalkSome people are really good at small talk. I am not one of those people.

Small talk, according to Wikipedia, is “an informal type of discourse that does not cover any functional topics of conversation or any transactions that need to be addressed.” So it’s basically bullshit. It’s filler with no substance to it, sort of like popcorn, only less salty.

Wikipedia goes on to say that small talk “serves many functions in helping to define the relationships between friends, work colleagues, and new acquaintances. In particular, it helps new acquaintances to explore and categorize each other’s social position.”

Seriously? Small talk helps define relationships and is used to categorize social positions? Crap. That doesn’t bode well for someone like me who is really bad at small talk.

My small talk conversations typically go something like this:

Other person: Hey Doobster, how was your weekend?
Me: Fine, thanks.
Other person: Great. You know, my wife, the kids, and I piled into the car and headed on up to Napa this weekend and while we were there….
Me: Shut up, I don’t give a shit.

Well, I suppose that does define the relationship (none) and does categorize my social position (disconnected and disinterested).

It’s not that I’m anti-social. I enjoy being social with people I know. And I enjoy engaging in lively conversations and/or debates on topics of substance with people I respect.

But these hi-how-are-you-I’m-fine-thanks-how-are-you-what-do-you-think-of-this-weather-we’re-having-sure-could-use-some-rain types of conversations bore the hell out of me.

One part of my job that I hate is when I have to participate in a group dinner with clients or prospects. The only thing in we have common is work-related, and few people want to talk about work at dinner. So small talk is pretty much all there is.

Coupled with my disdain for small talk — I tend to show disdain for those things I’m not proficient at — is the fact that I am challenged to hear well in restaurants where there is a lot of ambient noise.

So not only am I bored, I have difficulty hearing what people are saying. I end up sitting there with a stupid smile on my face, nodding my head occasionally, and pretending that I hear what people are talking about while feigning interest. And I pray that no one asks me a direct question.

I’m equally as bad at parties where I don’t know a lot of people. Parties are often loud affairs, with music blaring and a cacophony of voices in the background.

I’ve found that the best method for minimizing small talk at parties is to lie.

Other person: Hello, my name is Jack. Nice to meet you. I’m an accountant over at Gotcher Mooney & Moore. This is my wife, Penelope.
Me: Nice to meet you as well (lie).
Other person: So what do you do for a living?
Me: I can’t talk about it. It’s classified; top-secret (lie). If I told you I’d have to kill you (truth).
Other person (looking around the room nervously): Say Penelope, isn’t that your cousin Matilda over there?

Jack grabs Penelope’s hand and departs quickly. I get another drink, look at my watch, and try to decide how much longer I need to remain at this torturous affair.

One of the reasons I enjoy blogging is because I don’t need to engage in small talk.

So, how’s the weather in your part of the world?


Posted by on October 21, 2014 in Blogging, Society


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Just because…

painted ladies

…I love this city. That’s all. Just because.


Posted by on October 20, 2014 in Miscellaneous Musings


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Loss of Innocence, Part Last

condom outline on walletA few of you have asked when I intend to finish my three-part story about the time I lost my virginity. I posted parts 1 and 2 here and here, respectively, if you want to catch up.

I have been trying to decide if there’s any real value in posting part 3. After all, you know what’s going to happen, so the climax, so to speak, might be somewhat anticlimactic. But since some of you have asked, I thought I might as well tell the rest of the story.

And, just to be clear, this post is rated PG or maybe even R. You’ve been warned.

We left off with the hero and heroine — me and “Jack-off Sue” — pulling out of the drive-in theater lot in my father’s Chevy II station wagon to go find a more suitable place to accomplish the night’s prime objective.

I knew of an abandoned rock quarry about 20 miles north of where we were. The quarry got flooded when they dug into a natural spring years earlier. My buddies and I would occasionally head over there late at night for a “midnight” swim.

But I could tell that Sue, who was pressed tight up against me, was getting a little impatient, and based upon where her right hand was and what she was doing with it, I didn’t think driving 20 miles was a safe thing to do.

I found myself on a country road and, realizing that time was of the essence, I pulled into what appeared to be a very long driveway that led to a farmhouse at the far end. The house was barely visible but for the light shining down from the full moon.

Sue and I moved to the back of the station wagon, where I had carefully laid out the blanket and pillow in preparation for the evening’s activities. It didn’t take long before the two of us had removed all of our clothing and were eagerly exploring heretofore secrets places — at least secret to me.

After a few minutes of this rather engaging, sensory-overloading activity, I knew I had to act fast, so I stopped, reached over to my discarded jeans, retrieved my wallet, opened it up and pulled out a condom that had been in my wallet for so long that it had left a permanent circular imprint on the outside of the leather. I didn’t know if condoms had expiration dates, but if they did, this one was probably well beyond its “best if used by” date.

Sue did the honors for me and, I must confess, it was just in the nick of time. Within seconds — yes seconds; maybe five at the most — after plugging in, I lost all control of myself. I was twitching, groaning, and enduring body spasm after body spasm.

And then I heard a knock at the back window of the station wagon. It took me a few seconds before I could focus my eyes, but when I did, I saw the torso of a man, from neck to waist. He started knocking on the rear window with what appeared to be a billy club.

The man with the billy club was wearing a uniform and on his uniform was a silver badge in the shape of a star. And then I saw him bend down and peer through the somewhat steamy window to see what was going on in the back of the station wagon. Did he actually have a slight grin on his face?

My parents were not very happy about being called to the local police station at midnight to come bail out their teenage son, who had been charged with trespassing on private property, public nudity, indecent exposure, and lewd and lascivious behavior. Sue’s parents weren’t happy campers, either.

Ultimately the charges against the two of us were dropped and we were remanded to the custody of our respective parents. Needless to say, my father never let me use his Chevy II station wagon again, I never saw Sue again after that night, and I was grounded for a month.

However, the tale of my loss of innocence and my arrest by the police was all the buzz at school the next week; I became a sort of living of legend. From that day forward I was regarded by my fellow students in an entirely different manner. Was it respect? Was it high regard? Or was it disdain and disgust?

I didn’t really know, and I didn’t really care. All I knew is that I got a lot of high fives from some of my buddies for a few days after the big event.

And most important, I had an excellent adventure.


Posted by on October 20, 2014 in Blogging, Memories


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Another AAA beat down

dead batteryFriday morning I had to run to the Ace hardware store to pick up some paint and paint stuff. I also needed to hit the Cal-Mart grocery store, which is right next to the hardware store, to replenish my food stocks.

Sure, Ace and Cal-Mart are only a six blocks from my place and the terrain is relatively flat for San Francisco. So I could have walked. But full paint cans are heavy and my grocery shopping list was rather long. So I decided to hop in my car and drive to pick up what I needed.

But as Robert Burns, the famous Scottish poet, wrote, “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft agley.” You see, my car’s battery was dead.

Totally and completely dead.

AAA LogoYou may remember back in January when I posted about how my car’s battery died and I had to call AAA to start my car. If not, feel free to click here.

My battery at the time I wrote that post was only 13 months old and it shouldn’t have died after only 13 months. These batteries are warrantied for 36 months.

“You don’t drive your car enough”

Reluctantly, the AAA guy removed my old, dead battery back in January and installed a brand new one. But then he chewed me out. “You don’t drive your car enough,” he scolded.

Well, it’s true. I don’t drive my car that often. In fact, I had driven only 662 miles in the 13 months since AAA had installed my previous new battery in December 2012. 662 miles in 13 months!

What can I say? I live in the city. I can walk to all kinds of stores, restaurants, coffee shops, movies, and to just about anywhere I need to go. And if I have to travel to a different part of the city, there are four city bus lines within a block or two of where I live.

So yes, I don’t drive my car a lot. But “not enough”? Seriously?

Instant Karma?

And so, on Friday morning, having a totally dead battery in my car, I called AAA again. Wouldn’t you know it? The same AAA guy who installed that new battery last January was the AAA guy who showed up on Friday morning. Is that karma or what?

He recognized me and my car immediately. The first thing he asked me for was my car’s odometer reading. He whipped out his calculator and punched in a few numbers. His brow furrowed and then he yelled at me.

“Oh. My. God,” he said, totally exasperated. “You’ve only driven 554 miles since I installed the last new battery in January.” He looked me in the eye, shook a finger at me and said, just as he had nine months earlier, “You don’t drive your car enough.”

Well, I think that’s bullshit. I typically drive my car once a week. Or once every 10 days or so. Okay, at least once every two weeks. Whatever. Shouldn’t that be enough to keep a car’s battery charged up?

Hell, I should be commended for not driving my car “enough,” right? By walking or by taking mostly electric-powered buses everywhere I need to go, I’m being environmentally conscientious. I’m being a good citizen of the planet Earth, for crissake.

But no, I’m being told I need to drive more. WTF!

Time for a change?

Now I feel that I need to consider making a change. Should I make the effort to drive my car more often solely for the purpose of keeping my car’s battery charged?

Should I just sell my battery destroying, garage sitting, advanced electronics, every fancy option money could buy, 2007 Mini Cooper convertible and walk or take the bus everywhere I need to go?

Or should I trade it in for a brand new, base model, plain vanilla city-car, like a Smart Car or a Fiat 500 or something like that?

I think I’ll spend some time today perusing


Posted by on October 19, 2014 in Humor


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Doll Face by Andrew Huang (2007)


I don’t often reblog others’ posts, but Sonmi’s Cloud posted this today (inspired by a post of mine, I might add) and I thought this video is so good and so reflective of the lengths we go to in today’s society to achieve beauty. It’s definitely worth the few minutes it takes to watch it.

You may do have to link to the original post to view the video. Do it!

For those of you who don’t wish to link to the original post, here’s the video Sonmi’s Cloud posted:

Originally posted on Sonmi's Cloud:

View original


Posted by on October 18, 2014 in Blogging, Society


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