Iâ€™ve been sitting here in the big comfortable black leather papa chair in my living room thinking about the great questions…like, what is God all about? And Iâ€™ve finally come up with my answer…I donâ€™t have a clue. So I figured maybe I ‘d have better luck if I tackled some of the mediocre questions in life instead. Like, why does the windshield wiper on the driverâ€™s side always wear out before the one on the passenger side…and why do hot dogs always taste better at a ball game…and what are people who are always smiling really thinking? If anything.I got to spend some time outside today, watching Mother Nature doing some fancy dances in her best bikini. It was a pretty day. So how come I got to do that while my friend Randy next door, who is a whole lot closer to God than I am, is sick in bed and hurting? What kind of sense does that make? I donâ€™t know. I have a hard enough time figuring out why you canâ€™t win â€˜em all, but you can lose â€˜em all. And how come anything you drop in the bathroom always falls into the toilet? And why will people believe anything you tell them if you whisper it to them?
Come to think about it, I have a question for you: how come some people will be offended by what I just said about Mother Nature dancing in a sexy bikini? I honestly have no idea. Anybody who thinks mammas canâ€™t look nice dancing in sexy bikinis hasnâ€™t seen Catherine Zeta Jones, Sophia Loren, and my Lady Wonder Wench. Maybe my problem is that as a proud member of the Louie-Louie Generation, I canâ€™t forget the words of Big Louie, his own bad self, when he said…”If the Lord had approved of nudity, weâ€™d all have been born naked.” I guess my brain has become my Achilles heel.
How come people in a country that makes money that says “In God we trust” feel they need to “accuse” Senator Obama of being a member of the Muslim faith… but at the same time, heâ€™s supposedly under too much influence of a whacko pastor whoâ€™s Christian? That makes as much sense to me as accusing Senator Clinton of showing too much cleavage. I donâ€™t think you can ever show too much cleavage. And how about knocking Senator McCain because he has a record of actually working together with democrats to get something done? Thatâ€™s way too complicated for me.
Iâ€™m still trying to figure out why every time I blow my nose, I always want to check the kleenex for the results. And why arenâ€™t the people in very old black and white family pictures ever smiling…and why doesnâ€™t glue get stuck in the bottle…and whatâ€™s the difference between a blouse and a shirt…and how come women button some shirts up the back…and while weâ€™re at it…whatâ€™s with those bra hooks?
The electric company here isnâ€™t allowed to raise their rates for another two years. So now thereâ€™s a new item on the bill that they call a “transition charge”…which will be added to each bill for the next two years. Huh? Why do some women kick one foot up when they kiss? When you change the oil in your car engine, where does the old oil go? Whatâ€™s the connection between concentrating and sticking your tongue out? Huh? I donâ€™t know, either.
1- Although sex is obviously a mutual activity, what excessive masculine trait keeps men from offering to “pay” a woman with sex?
2- What do 59% of men do in bed that women seem to totally ignore?
3- When does a little mystery in a romance go too far?
3 – right – Einstein.
2 – right – Wilbur/Orville Wright.
1 – right – The guy who invented the Hefty Bag.
0 – right -Â A guy who canâ€™t figure out how to open a Hefty Bag.
So, how come we canâ€™t tickle ourselves? Whatâ€™s the difference between a street sign that says no outlet and one that says dead end? Why do dogs love to put their heads out the window of your car when youâ€™re moving, but really hate it if you blow into their ears? When you send a letter from one country to another, which country gets paid for delivering it? All good questions, for which I have no answers. If you have any questions to confuse me further…or you just want to complain bitterly…or you want to send money…myÂ E-mail isÂ Dick@DickSummer.com Â
Guess Iâ€™ll never figure out what God is all about. I think if I ever really figured out what my Lady Wonder Wench is all about…I wouldnâ€™t believe it anyway, so whatâ€™s the use? I donâ€™t know…maybe some questions donâ€™t really have an answer. And maybe some answers… donâ€™t need to be questioned.
Next time…the story of a lady calledÂ “KrissyGirl.”