Waddling in Disgust: America's Collective Intelligence

I heard Dolly-girl at her computer. "Harumph!" "What?" "Wha-the? Double HARUMPH!" "What's it, Dolly-girl?" As soon as I said it I knew I should't-a said it. "You know I don't like that name. I know YOU think of me as that name, but I'm Fiora, which is a perfectly good name and now you've got other people calling me that name too."



"OK, OK, Fi-OR-a. But what's got your Vics in a knot? It's not being called Dolly-girl--oops, I mean that name." "It's this, Jack. Did you see this? This makes me gag and hurry to book an exodus from these United States of America. Just look here, it says, based on some sort of poll of idiots--I mean Americans--that Ronald Reagan is considered by Americans to be the greatest of the presidents." "Hmmm, it also says George W. Bush is in the top 10..." "Oh, puleeezzzze. Hello, Azumano Travel?"


© probably politicsdaily.com



I figured I'd better get out of the house while the getting was good. "Headed out on shanks mare to waddle some LARD! off the bones, Dol...Fiora. See you in a couple." "HARUMPH!" Besides, I had my own harumphing to do--while cleaning up computer files, I'd come across a previous War on LARD! There have been many in my life. The last one began on February 6, 2000 and by July of that year, I had almost reached my goal of 2 pails of LARD! lost. I didn't think of it as LARD! then--I think I was thinking of it as sacks of water softener salt...



It was a nice spring day so I set out with a lilting gait--wait, when anyone is still carrying as much LARD! as Jack D'Mestiere, there is no such thing as lilting. OK, Take 2. It was a nice spring day so I set out with my normal lumbering gait to see what I could see.

First up? Flowers. Yep, it's spring in Stumptown even if it's not in other parts of the country, such as the east, where Libretto and Anna-Maria are freezing their pitoots off, what ever a pitoot is.
© Accuweather, I'm guessing






I always keep my eye open for likely spots that could provide shelter in case of nuclear attack, earthquake, volcanic eruption, or other major disaster that would lead me to want to stop waddling and start drinking. Wait, it hardly takes a natural disaster to do that! This particular joint, along with a very clever name, had a sign me and Dolly-girl (she's back home so I can call her that now) like to see. You see, we take an active interest in the "yoot of 'Merica" and believe that there's nothing they can learn by hanging out with us, the "non-yoot." But, most "yoot", and based on that poll Dolly-girl was HARUMPHING! about, most of the rest of 'Merica would look at the sign and say, "I ain't no minor, I work above ground."





Next up, a store front that got a guffaw out of old Jack. You see, Inebriata, our bowling buddy, sometimes uses a false moniker of Leslie and there was a time, oh, say a few weeks ago, when Les reminded us that she could sure make parties happen...Now, I'm not claiming in any way, shape, or form that Dolly-girl, me, and Cuco weren't in on it, but Inebriata, now that gal can make a party happen!





Finally, I filed this away for future reference as you never know that if Jack would somehow manage to land a case, D'Mestiere Investigations might need a sub-contractor to do some of the more, what should we say, competent work? Clever name, again.
7.78 miles after I left, and after a stop at the Radio Room to wet a whistle that was in serious need of wetting, I opened the door to "HARUMPH!"


PS, Doll--I mean Fiora--and I went out for a stroll this afternoon, adding another 2.45 miles for a grand total of, let's see, 8 and 5 are 13, carry 1, 7 and 4 are 11 and 1 is 12, carry one, 7 and 2 is none cary 1, that's 10.23 miles...