Monthly Archives: March 2018

Dumb Stuff with Tommy McGee – 2

Hi. Welcome to Dumb Stuff.

I’m Tommy and this is what I think about stuff that’s mostly dumb.

Today…the Biden/Trump fight.

As you probably heard, both Donald Trump and Joe Biden have taken turns telling the press that, at some point or other – based on whatever the other has done – that each is confident he could and would give the other a solid beat down in a physical fight – to teach him a lesson.

Did you get all that?

Let’s face it, the whole kerfuffle is dumb! They can talk like that because they each wallow in the safety of being out of range of each other. Just like you putting stuff on the social media about folks you don’t like. You probably wouldn’t say it face to face, because if you did, someone might slap the shit out of your head.

These two nubs are never gonna fight. This nonsense is just taking up space that could be better used for the bigger stuff we should be talking about. I mean, it’s more embarrassing than amusing. It’s stupid.

However, I would be lying to you if, when I first heard this bubble up, that there wasn’t a small part of me that would actually like to see these two suit up and crawl into a ring somewhere. I mean, I’m not condoning any violence here (not that they could muster up enough energy to produce even minimal levels of violence) and I don’t believe there is any element of sport involved, but, if anything, the notion is so bizarre that for a moment, I thought, “Yeah, we should have them do that.”

I mean, it keeps coming up and they won’t let it die. Apparently, they are just not capable of moving on to the point that “threats” have been made or “gauntlets” have been thrown down. It’s like when you bump into that drunk guy in a bar – absolute mistake – totally innocent – could happen to anybody – but you caused a little bit of his drink to spill and instead of his hearing you say your very polite, “Gee, man I’m sorry,” (which is what I said, Louis) he hears you say, “Watchitdick!” and now wants to kick your ass.

It must have something to do with their perception of manhood, or manliness, or virility, or reliving some golden moment of their youth when maybe they could deliver a punch or two -or something other like that – that pushes them into this ego-driven, moronic, blind rage…or in this case, ego-driven, moronic, blind bravado. I wonder if they actually hear the words that dribble out of their mouths.

Look, not to take anything away from them, but these are not young men. They are older men who, instead of embracing the dignity and wisdom of their elder years, are acting like tired children who played outside too long on a hot summer day, but who are still so jacked up from all the Kool-Aid®, they can’t think straight. Maybe they need a nap.

These are supposed to be our esteemed leaders. The ones who we task with setting a vision for the country and leading us into a better future. Instead, they are embarrassing themselves and proving to be an embarrassment to all of us, partly because they are actually saying these stupid things out loud and partly, and probably more importantly, because I think we can all picture how it would go in our heads. The vision is…disturbing.

My mind instantly conjures two, slow, sweaty, puffy (one puffier than the other for sure), winded, crepy, veiny, elderly men standing opposite of each other with boxing gloves on bigger than their heads. They wear giant pairs of shiny boxing shorts that start at their armpits and end at about mid-calf. They glare at each other with angry eyes that make statements and professions that their bodies are just no longer capable of delivering on. And should they start an actual bout, all you would hear is these wheezing gasps for breath in between the soft pat, pat, pat of feeble punches. I’m pretty certain they could each muster up the intent to do the other one harm, but the delivery system just doesn’t exist.

When my Uncle Larry got old to the point where he started talking crazy, saying stuff like he wanted to punch the paperboy to teach him a lesson for always tossing his paper into the hydrangeas or his wanting shoot the squirrels in his backyard because they ate too much of his birdseed, we took his car keys away and made sure he had more company to keep an eye on him. Is anyone keeping an eye on these guys?

Like I said, a lot of this is bravado. Bluster and noise wrapped in the notion of teaching someone else a lesson on how to behave (note the irony). And despite the intentions, these are actually prominent displays of old-school, bull-headed mindsets of men who appear to be incapable of taking a more enlightened approach to resolving even the smallest of issues. If you want to teach someone a lesson, I think leading by a better example or setting a higher standard is the way to go. The knock your block off stuff is counterproductive and like I said…just dumb.

Thanks for listening, – Tommy

*Editor’s note:
To read other “Dumb Stuff” entries, search for Dumb Stuff at the top of the page.

Copyright © 2018 – The JEFFWORKS

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Something to Ponder – 8

banaba 1a

Sage advice from an elderly gentleman perched atop a lonely mountain.

Hello friends! Today our question comes from Zach Rumsten of Arcata, California.

“Dear Banaba,” Zach writes, “Can’t we all just get along?”

To my new friend Zach, I say simply, “No.”

But of course, that is me kidding with you. If I’m being totally honest, the best answer I can give is a solid maybe.

You see, we have always had the skills and abilities to get along, and by we, I’m going to guess that Zach means all of us on this planet. But, despite our infinite skills and abilities, it seems we cannot all just get along. To take it one step further, it seems we are not all that interested in making it happen. So, it is not that we can’t. It is more likely that we don’t or won’t.

While that sounds bad, understand that the situation is not entirely hopeless, but our history shows there is little motivation within the human species to work for and achieve global harmony, so until the proper motivation comes, we sit in this tenuous middle ground.

Humans are animals. Despite the work we have done over the span of our evolution to grow beyond our base programing, what is in us exists and continues to prove difficult to overcome with any real permanence or global vision.

Humans have ongoing and eternal base needs like satisfying hunger and thirst, the need for shelter, the need for a sense of safety, the need for companionship, family, community, accomplishment, self-expression and so on.

On the plus side, humans generally have within them the ability to display compassion, understanding, fortitude, love, empathy, charity, a willingness to learn and grow, imagination, creativity, endurance and so on.

However, in direct conflict with those traits, we are also wired for greed and envy, pettiness, ignorance, ego, bigotry, fear, selfishness, laziness, a hunger for power or dominance, ruthlessness, revenge, hatred and so on.

The reason we cannot all get along is that we cannot reconcile, or adequately balance our positive traits with our negative traits while in the pursuit of satisfying our base needs.

It has been proven over and over that the world we live on, despite the lack of care we show for it, has the resources to adequately provide for the needs of its people, but the use, control and distribution of those resources is based on economy, not charity. So, while we could live in a world where everyone has what they need, instead, we live in a world where there is great disparity between us. You can get what you need, if you have the money or other resources to do so. If you do not have the resources…sad for you, your struggles will be great.

In this case, size and situation matters little. You can see that there are people in the world who have sought power and dominance over others by any means possible for selfish returns. And while those examples very clearly illustrate the negatives of the human animal, those same shortcomings are easily found throughout the chain of human existence from governments, to corporations, to smaller businesses and organizations, to towns and villages, to churches, to neighborhoods, to families, to individuals.

We serve ourselves first. We help others if we can, as we can, if we remember, as long as it does not diminish our position in anyway or is in anyway inconvenient. We adhere to our biases, we contort our religious doctrines to suit our purposes, we forget to forgive and forget. We fail to recognize that we often do ourselves what we curse others for. We ridicule what we don’t understand and we bully those who seem less than we are and so many things.

There are exceptions of course, and that is where hope lies. There are people who wish to, and work to, serve the greater good and put the needs of others before themselves, but there are not enough. And the ones we have cannot do all that needs to be done on their own. They need help.

It starts with simple questions like Zach’s. Can’t we all just get along? Perhaps. Maybe.

When you get to the point where you are ready to ask the question, you should also be at the point where you decide how you can answer the question in your own world. How do you live? What do you do to bring hope and harmony to your existence? What are you willing to change? Are you able to grow beyond who you think you are today?

Not easy questions and not the only questions, but if you have opened yourself up to a broader vision of a greater world, asking the questions is not enough.

Peace to you  – Banaba

*Editor’s note:
To read other “Something to Ponder” entries, search for Banaba at the top of the page.

Copyright © 2018 – The JEFFWORKS

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Bon Mots and Sprinkles

Bonmots Sprinkles

Able was sad to rebuff the minotaur who came to his door trying to sell a box of safety flares, but he learned that while the creature’s features were strong, harsh and disturbing, he had surprisingly minty fresh breath.

I just realized that it’s the first day of summer and also the longest day of the year. Now I’m trying to purge the image from my mind of a giant, full-body, communal, sunscreen dip vat. Shivers

I never considered the potential legal ramifications of having popular, ironic and funny t-shirt designs and slogans done in braille.

Hey chicken lovers, heed this warning! Without explicit permission,  the “finger licking good” thing at KFC is restricted to your own chicken and your own fingers… exclusively. They mean it.

I had this really great idea while giving blood the other day, but then it vanished.
I was totally convinced that it drained out of me at some point during the donation and that it might be swimming around in the blood bag. Despite my pleading with them, the people at the blood bank wouldn’t let him have it back – even for a second – so that i might get the idea – or at least a glimmer of the idea – back by holding the bag up to against my head. or something They just offered me an extra cookie and asked me to leave.

Jax climbed the mountain seeking wisdom from the man at the top. Sadly, it was the wrong mountain. The man at the top was not wise, but a “wise-ass” who berated him with witty, stinging commentary and smart remarks until Jax left.

Tilken opened the note from his hamster. It read, “Dear Tilken – or Master – whatever you prefer, Please remove the wheel from my space. This morning I realized that no matter how hard I work, how hard I try or the strength of my convictions, I will never get anywhere on it. Now, it just reminds me of all the things I’ll never be and it makes me feel inadequate. Please replace said icon of doom with a tiny futon, some high-speed, wireless Internet and a bit more alfalfa. I love that stuff. Thanks – Yours in a cage, Mott”

Tommy tried mowing the lawn in the middle of the night – blindfolded – just because he could, but n the morning, he found that most of his neighbors were very upset with the noise and the random spots in the grass that he missed appeared to spell out something obscene.

I was walking along yesterday, minding my own business when I happen to stumble across  an ounce of prevention. Which made me wonder…id this eve legal? How much trouble could I get in if someone fInd out about it? And as I rolled it around in my hand for a moment I thought, is this really worth a whole pound of cure?

I’m a bit depressed over the notion that the year is speeding along and I have crossed so few items off my personal “to do” lis for the year. I mean, I’m thrilled with the progress I made on New Year’s resolution 57 – get rid of that truck load of iguana pelts – but the rest of it has been a real struggle.

Denton worked hard to write his own words as a means to inspire others without having to rely on apt quotes from those more recognized than he (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Today he writes: “If wine be food for the soul and the burden I carry is wine, let me drink to unburden my cart and my soul, may it gift me the courage to vanquish my foes and summon words to convince this kind Officer Bentley to loosen these handcuffs that I might find my clothes.”

I was invited to take an adventure tour this summer to obscure, yet exotic fishing locales around the globe in search of the rare Marubian Platter Trout. But it looks like there might be some good TV on this summer and anyone who knows me knows I don’t eat from the water.

Dan spent the better part of his life searching for the keys to the mystical crystal palace, but after finding them recently, he cast them back out in to the world, for he realized that he would be now surrounded by nosy neighbors and crystal, being what it is, would force him to spend a fortune on drapes – for he is modest. Thus he asks that you choose your quests wisely and be careful what you wish for.

I never really expected such a backlash. I mean, I never imagined such an impassioned response. The comments clearly unearthed, and eventually laid bare, the emotional and philosophical divisions that lie between us as we, on the surface, politely tap out our glib impressions of a daily life that never really matches our deeper thoughts, hopes and dreams. All I said was that I liked the rain…and I don’t mind the word “moist”.

When you have so much pudding that you spend time trying to come up with “alternative uses” and then you glance over at the tub…stop. You have too much pudding.

Dotson fell, then got up, then fell again, and got up, then fell, before deciding to stay down for a moment or two to contemplate what it might be like to be a doormat. The ripples and grooves in the ceiling above him revealed the likeness of the French researcher François Poulletier de la Salle and he smiled.

Burke saw a sizable rabbit wearing a Panama hat waiting for a bus in the pouring rain. On the lapel of his jacket was a button that read ‘Free Mandela’ and he was jangling the loose change in his pocket over and over again. Rude.

I’m starting to wonder if trying to collect hail in a paper cup is worth all the pain and aggravation.

Dan noticed a bug with his voice recognition software. Now the computer only responds if he uses a Scottish and accent and calls it “Baby.”

Janks retold that story about how we all burst through the door of that small camper with Old Bill screaming, “What in the fuzzy nubbins are you doing to that cat!” Our eyes grew like saucers, it was tense and everything was pretty sticky, but eventually cooler heads prevailed and now we laugh about it. Most of us laugh about it. Not the cat.

Cory finally ended his long-standing feud with the Druids of Persipia. He will grant them safe passage through the Valley of Dread and they will return the carrots… all of them. Who knew it would take so long for such a simple resolution?

Diesel held his breath for a really long time. Eventually he began to see beautiful colors, and tall, nearly translucent, ethereal beings who stood before him in timeless, pinstriped suits. They told him all the bad things that could happen if Bailey Tinn were to become president – in iambic pentameter –  they then handed him a sizable, chocolate eclair. When he woke up it – was Thursday.

I just created an app that turns any cell phone into an awesome paperweight.

Bernard decided that every time the government shuts down, he’s shutting down. Just like them, he will sit with his arms crossed and pout and maybe hold his breath some until he gets his way because that’s what his elected officials have taught him. He may then go kick in an anthill, for his elected officials also taught him that their will is law and masses are pawns at their mercy. That is the game. So who cares what they have to deal with?

Jenk learned that squeezing a tomato can help you determine freshness, but that squeezing them too hard just destroys them…and that squeezing a dozen or so too hard will get you an invite to leave the store immediately – generally followed by a security guard.

After a few tests, Carl found that you actually catch more flies with a dead squirrel than honey.

Know that the second you say, “I don’t want to be that person, but…” – you are that person.

I sent my DNA sample to one of those places that trace your ancestry and was a bit disappointed. All this time I thought I was hardcore Scottish. Come to find, I’m just from New Jersey.

I got a new medic-alert bracelet and wore it on a trampoline. I’ve fallen. I’m back up. I’ve fallen. I’m back up. I’ve fallen. I’m back up. It was fun, but I felt a little bad for the guys from the squad who walked up my driveway, then back to the truck, then up my driveway, then back to the truck.

The Great Bandini had to disband his troupe of amazing dancing monkeys. And while he’s sad to see them go, he takes comfort in knowing Mr. Bangles and Coco will have a safe new life at the Erie County Aquarium and Taco Bar and he knows the fabulous Miss Effy Proust will see great success in her new one monkey stage show in Vegas. And the rest? Well, he knows they will land on their feet…or their hands…depending on how they jump.

Jack is celebrating the one day anniversary of yesterday. He’s so grateful for all the magic and wonder the day held, he’s sending out a special thanks to everyone who helped make it great – the mailman for leaving no bills, Creepy Tommy on the corner of 5th Street and Purchase for not spitting on him, to Burger Tzar for the free pickles and for the Lenny the Mime for pretending to pull a live chicken out his ass…the extended version. He holds such fond memories of the day and was sad to see it go.

I found an old can of whoop-ass in the basement. I’m afraid to keep it because its way past its “best by” date and you just can’t have a random old can of whoop-ass exploding in your living room. I mean, think of the mess. On the other hand, I’m afraid to get rid of it, because you never know when you might need a can of whoop-ass.

Cal was sad that his idea to cut a hole in the debt ceiling to install a debt skylight didn’t get broader consideration from Congress. It provided the stability of a firm structure with the flexibility of breaching the limit as needed. His other ideas that Congress rejected included the debt refinished basement, the debt lawn sprinkler and the debt margarita cabana station with an express mini taco bar.

Tan is working on a book of inspirational sayings and motivational thoughts to help people maneuver the murky waters of this modern day life. Chapter 83 begins with, “Embrace the things you can’t change. Hold them close…tight…really tight…until they stop kicking. Then, bury them in a neighbor’s yard or under some loose tar in the parking lot of an abandoned factory. Then…finally, you can renew your focus on the things you can change.”

Sure, having three bird feeders is excessive, but it makes it so much easier to shoot the birds.

Jerry danced the fandango in a mid-sized tub of tapioca pudding, but it didn’t go well. The pudding was not at the optimum temperature for dancing in.

Today’s post is brought to you by the letters F and U.

Teddy learned the hard way that it’s inappropriate to put on a big smile and do “jazz hands” after giving someone really bad news.

It’s always best to check the status of the roll of paper before committing to the deed.

Nobody cares if the thing stuck in your teeth looks like Marylin Monroe. Just get it out of there.

You know you’re in trouble when your credit card bill comes delivered with a giant bouquet of flowers and a handwritten Thank You note.

There’s no point in having a staring contest with a dog, nobody wins and it just annoys the dog.

Despite his joy over the effectiveness of his time machine, Dil still had to figure out why his pants disintegrated on every trip. lt was getting harder and harder to explain.

For lack of something better to do, Jax finally cracked open the keg of the thick, snot-like artificial drool left to him by his Uncle Bob and found it was great for grossing out kids at the mall and for winning bar bets.

While cleaning up, Chester decided that looking for truffles is not as easy as he imagined and he now has a new found level of respect for the pig.

Hal discovered the hard way that it’s wrong to be a volunteer fireman if all you want to do is wear the hat and ride in the truck…even if you make a good siren noise with your mouth.

Mert thought he wrote the next greatest protest song until the letter came from the record company that said a) the unethical treatment of unicorns is not enraging people these days as much as he imagined b) Finlandia is not so much a place as it is a vodka c) BP is not likely drilling for oil in Finlandia – see “b” d) We can’t prove Sarah Palin was an alien space baby despite what he claimed to be “documentation” e) black holes were not created by the government f) it’s 38 minutes long.

Billy pulled the bag from the freezer. As he looked down, his brow furrowed.
“What the hell,” he muttered to himself while inspecting the bag further. He yelled out, “Jason?”
“What?” Jason bumbled down the stairs to the kitchen where Billy stood with a puzzled look plastered on his face and a bag of frozen hot dogs in his hands. “Those are mine.”
“Yeah,” I gathered Billy said. “Am I seeing these right? Do they all say, ‘Exclusive Property of Jason Schwartzman’ on them?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Each one individually?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” Billy asked.
“They’re mine.”
“I get that. It’s clearly indicated on each and every hot dog that they’re yours. How did you do that?”
“With a Sharpie®. I started with a plain one, but then I switched to the fine point. That made it much easier?”
“Why?”
“Duh, the fine point is not as thick, so the letters look better.”
“Why did you use a Sharpie® at all?”
“Well, I figured they would work best, they‘re permanent and non-toxic.”
“No. Why did you feel the need to write on the hot dogs at all?”
“They’re mine.”
“Right, fine. They’re yours. I’ll get to that in a second, but wouldn’t it have been easier just to write on the bag?”
“Well…I didn’t want you to get confused.”
“What, in case some hot dogs I might have somewhere infiltrates your bag somehow and we can’t tell them apart?”
“You don’t eat hot dogs.”
“Which makes this even more bizarre.”
“But yet, here you are in the kitchen hold my bag of hot dogs.”
“Do you really think I wanted to eat your hot dogs? I was looking for something else. I saw these and I clearly remember thinking, ‘What the hell?’”
“I don’t see how it’s so bizarre. You write your name on stuff so I don’t get confused. You have a carton of eggs in there you marked as yours.”
“Right, but you have your eggs and I didn’t go through and mark each one the “Exclusive Property of William Jennings Cooper.’”
“Of course, not.”
“You see my point then?”
“Yeah, you prefer ‘Billy.’”

I’m probably not being followed. That’s paranoid. But it seems like there is a guy with a schedule very similar to mine, who goes the places I go, but is always just a little bit behind me.

Nate is working hard to clean up chunks of the Earth after reading this story about some jerkweed who killed all the Truffula Trees to make something or other. Killing all the trees rippled out to the Bar-ba-Loots and the Swomee Swans and it was just a mess. He also found that while Bar-ba-Loots are terrible house guests, they make great drinking buddies.

Corbin found that beer goes down a lot easier with a beer chaser followed by vodka, then scotch, then beer.

Alex tried hard to get in touch with his feminine side, but when he did, he found she was a big girl with giant hands who was very rough…and a little mean.

Hank really thought the multi-barreled hot dog cannon would generate greater interest. After all, it can shoot piping hot, hot dogs at a rate of 124 wieners per minute – up to 300 feet away. He’s perplexed. Was it because it doesn’t shoot buns too or was it the unfortunate moment when Rodney took one to the eye? Look, he said it wasn’t even his favorite eye.

Gil found out during trick or treating last night that kids are not the least bit interested in bobbing for hot dogs.

Bren spent the evening calibrating his blender to international industry standards so that he might both create smoother pureed beets and a better margarita. Then he thought…what about a beet margarita?

Bill spends a lot of his extra time perfecting his recipe for turning sugared cereals into beer. Imagine for a moment, Froot Loops Lager, Apple Jacks Pale Ale, or Quisp….beer. Anyhow, He plans to promote it as the getup and go morning beverage of choice for movers and shakers.

Dex learned the hard way that it’s inappropriate to put on a big smile and do “jazz hands” while stuttering through “Th – th – th- that’s all folks!” like Porky Pig after hearing the news that someone died.

Tad experimented with the various fountain soda and Slurpee options at the local gas mart to the point where he created an icy cold beverage that tasted just like a roasted turkey sandwich.

*Editor’s note:
To read the latest entries, search for Bon Mots and Sprinkles at the top of the page.
Copyright © 2018 – The JEFFWORKS
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Dumb Stuff with Tommy McGee – 1

Dumb-Stuff

Hi. Welcome to Dumb Stuff.

I’m Tommy and this is what I think about stuff that’s mostly dumb.

Today…the gun thing.

And before you get your shorts in a knot, it ain’t the current attention over guns that’s dumb. That’s important. The dumb stuff has everything to do with people and their current “response” to the gun thing…of course.

There’s a lot of money,  paranoia, misunderstanding, a whole lot of misinformation, a lot of rage and a bunch of other stuff that continues to take this issue way off the tracks.

Thing is, I don’t think we’ve seen all the dumb stuff related to this come to surface yet. There’s more to come for sure. But it don’t take a genius to know we’re doing it wrong.

Here’s the bit. We got a problem with guns here. You can say we don’t, but that would be blind ignorance talking. But instead of looking at it directly and naming it what it is, people are calling it a lot of other things like it’s bad immigrants or crazy people, not enough God, political philosophy, or drugs, or the decay of our collective moral fiber and all kinds of things. But when you boil it right down to the bones, it’s guns. Technically, it’s guns mixed with a double scoop of stupid…and bullets.

I grew up around guns. Not military grade weapons and the like, but still…guns.

I had some pretty shitty days growing up.

Still, I can’t recall one time when I ever thought of fixing my shitty day by running home and grabbing me up some guns…and bullets.

Why? Lots of reasons. Maybe, after a moment to consider my situation, my shitty day may not have been as shitty as I imagined. Maybe I’m not that kind of crazy. Perhaps it’s my practical understanding that shooting people is bad and that prison sucks pretty bad and it is not the place where I want to end up spending my time. As far as guns go, once you shoot them, you gotta clean them, so maybe I’m just lazy. I generally don’t carry around that kind of hate for people, despite how awful and dumb they can be and despite how much they might piss me off. Not on my worst day. But, that’s just me.

So, why do other people do it?

Well, we still need to think on that one. Super bad days? Mother issues? Father issues? Bullying? Feeling of power? Lack of belonging? Futile outlook? Some sort of supremacist, anti-establishment bull shit? Tiny genitalia? God told them to do it? Satan told them to do it? To be determined.

The dumbest thing of all is that we can’t get to the bit and fix the problem.

The gun people say there ain’t enough guns. They say everyone has a God-given right to have all the weapons they want and that the world’ll have to pry those weapons from their cold dead hands to get them. That seems to cover everything from a tiny pop gun to an all-out urban assault vehicle…and beyond.

The anti-gun people say the only way to solve the problem is to flat out get rid of all the guns. The end.

There’s a group that says if you take away all the guns, the people intent on doing others harm will just weaponize something else – like their cars or something. Then they ask, “What are you gonna do then? Outlaw cars? What then?”

Some nub in Kansas named Tyler Tannahill, is giving away the same type of assault rifle used on those kids in Florida as part of his Senate campaign. He says it’s OK though because he planned on giving that gun away before the shooting took place and he sees no reason to change the plan. Good call Tyler. You’re gonna fit right in. It comes off a bit tine deaf to the situation though.

No longer relevant Washington nub, Newt Gingrich wants to give guns to teachers. Apparently, that nub Trump thinks that’s a good idea too. Bite into that one and taste it for a minute. They say it would come in handy if another shooting occurs. You know, it’s just for self-defense and protection of others. Like that could never go wrong. First, neither of them had Mr. Terriman for eighth-grade English. That dude was itching to bring a little old West justice to the classroom…ass. Plus, solving the gun problem with more guns just doesn’t seem to make good sense on any level. Has anyone suggested the answer to the opioid problem is giving people more drugs? No? Of course not, because people understand that’s a dumb ass idea,

The nubs in the Florida legislature voted down having a conversation to consider an assault weapons ban. In the same afternoon, they declared pornography a public health risk. You read that correct. Whatever you happen to think about pornography and what it does to folks, I have yet to hear of how it was used to extinguish the lives of innocent people. Did you ever hear of a  porn massacre? Of course not. It’s more like an individual sport. Dumb.

Finally, after a whole bunch of useless posturing and bluster comes the great debate – which is a dumb thing – because there ain’t a real debate, just a bunch of noise and finger pointing with pointed fingers that look like guns.

A real heart to heart needs to take place between folks who can step away from the pandering,  look at the issue clean and who can generate some kinda solid, workable solution.

We’re not gonna get that.

We’re gonna get four giant truckloads of stupid from every political blowhole that cares less about the issue and more about how they look on TV and what their polling numbers say. We’re gonna get rants from our goofy friends on the fringe who have no idea what they’re talking about but parrot rage just the same about losing their second amendment rights. They don’t really know what that means of course. Before now, they thought the right to bear arms meant they could cut the sleeves off all their t-shirts without government interference.

It’s a sad state when the bulk of us, the ones who are just trying to get through the day to day the best way we know how without losing what we have worked hard for, to sit in the middle of this tempest of stupid and know that whatever happens – we’ll have to pay for it. We got kids acting like adults and adults acting like children and common sense is getting lost in the noise.

I figure this could probably be worked out over a couple of beers, a bowl of pretzels and a couple shots of “let’s get some stuff done” – if you turn the TV and the Internet off while the talk goes on, but that would be giving people a whole lot of credit.

Till then, it’s just gonna more of the same old same old. More dumb stuff.

Thanks for listening. – Tommy

*Editor’s note:
To read other “Dumb Stuff” entries, search for Dumb Stuff at the top of the page.