HALLOWEEN, THEN AND NOW
THEN WAS BETTER!

First.., leave us talk about NOW, okay?

1. Store bought costumes that cost a LARGE amount of moolah.

Actual cost...$677.67.

2. Parents fearful of taking their chitlins to houses where they don't know the inhabitants, intimately.

What are they so scared of?

3. Checking the gathered candy under a microscope to make sure there are no foreign objects embedded deep inside the nougat. (Just what is nougat, anyway?)

4. "Trunk or Treat" areas where the kidlets can safely obtain candy from the trunk of a certified, vetted, designated candy giver. 

NOT a designated candy giver on the right.

5. Many parents in to the Halloween celebration MORE than the youngsters, with costume parties, indulging in "liquid Halloween cheer"and running around like big silly folks with reckless abandon! 

Now we'll go back to Halloween in the fifties...which we will call..."THEN."

1. No, stinking, store bought costumes, except for maybe a mask. The challenge was to make homemade costumes from things around the house. 

       Okay...one oddball with a store bought costume.  

2. We went to ALL the houses in the neighborhood and beyond! With NO adults accompanying us, whatsoever! 

If we would have ever suspected some creepy adult trying to grab a tricker treater, we would have egged the perp to intensive care...and beyond!

3. We ate the candy too fast to check it. We were eating it as we trick or treated! You might think we were REALLY dumb back then, but actually we were.

4. The candy givers were NOT vetted, but they were verified talent scouts, I think, because they would force us little monsters to sing a song, or recite a poem, or tell a joke before they'd give us candy. Try that today, and the kids parents would sue you for malicious intimidation or SOMETHING! 

5. The parents did not get involved in Halloween back then, except for handing out the candy. Okay, a few crazy ones, like my mom, did...but she was hysterical! I'm not gonna tell you who she dressed up as, even though the statute of limitations has run out, I'm quite sure.

No such thing as political correctness back "then."

Our independent panel of unbiased old folks have come to the conclusion that "THEN" was better, when it comes to Halloween, however, I'm quite sure that the youth would vehemently disagree. 

Tell us what YOU think in the comments section below. Is Halloween better NOW or was it better THEN. Go ahead, it's Halloween...and the curse of the "horseless headsman" will be upon you if you don't! 

Call Me Mr. Fix It, Thanks To YouTube!

I am NOT a "handy" guy. I'm not the guy that can fix stuff, or build stuff, or install stuff, or nothing! 

It all began as a child. When the other kidlings were putting together Lincoln Logs, Erector Sets, and those plastic blocky things that stick together...uh, what are they called... umm...LEGOS ...that's it...LEGOS...or is it, LEGO'S...no matter, I was TERRIBLE at it, and it's pretty bad when I can't even remember what Legos are called! 

1932

The Lego Group began in the workshop of Ole Kirk Christiansen (1891–1958), a carpenter from Billund, Denmark, who began making wooden toys in 1932. In1934, his company came to be called "Lego", derived from the Danish phrase leg godt, which means "play well". In 1947, Lego expanded to begin producing plastic toys.

Then came arts and crafts in elementary school. I flopped out at everything. Especially the crafts! 

My clay projects ended up as ashtrays for my mom and dad, as well as my metal projects, and even my wood projects , which would have been quite dangerous if mom and dad had actually used my flammable wooden ashtrays.

 In fact, mom and dad didn't use ANY of my projects. They were WAY to ugly for the interior of a home in the 1950's. Even for Pall Mall butts! By the way, smoking was VERY popular in the "fifties",  before it caused cancer. 

The only reason I passed Shop Class in high school is because they wanted me to leave before I killed someone with a recklessly handled power tool. 

So what is the point of me sharing my tales of ineptitude with you lovely readers? 

Well, here's the point...Now, I'm Mister Fix It! 

Surprise!!

This ain't Mister Fix It...this is Mr. Green Jeans...but he must have fixed stuff for Capt. Kangaroo. 

Why? You ask so National Enquiringly. 

YouTube has helped me be the handyman I've always wanted to be!

You see, I have always been too dumb to follow written or even verbal directions, but if I can WATCH somebody doing something, and replay it, over and over again, I can eventually get it! Yaaay!! 

The "how to" videos on YouTube have enabled me to do marvelous, miraculous, HANDY things I would have never even attempted before!!

Just this morn' I replaced a heating element in our Hotpoint oven, and all the credit goes to Dylan, in this video below...

Thanks, Dylan, you helped me immeasurably!

Another time I had a burned out tail light on my car and I was thinking about prying off the light cover on the OUTSIDE to get to the stinking bulb! That HAD to be the ONLY WAY! Right? 

Thank goodness, I checked a YouTube, "how to" video and learned that you replace the bulb from INSIDE the TRUNK! Whoda thunk THAT? 

I could go on and on, but you would be even more bored than you are right now. 

In conclusion, if you hear someone refer to me as Mister Fix It, you'll know why, however, that's probably not gonna happen, because I, pretty much, stay to myself, except for church, and I'm not one to brag about my accomplishments anyway...

 QUESTIONS FROM MY BLOG READERS ALL OVER THE WORLD 

Recently I invited my faithful readers to send in questions about me and also non-important issues. 

Here are just a few questions, out of the thousands we received.

Jimmy, from Chicago, Il. - "Hey, Danny. What makes you so funny?"

Me - Thanks for joining our question and answer session, Jimmy! I guess I was just born funny. As far back as I can remember, people laughed at me for no apparent reason. At first, it made me a little self conscious, thinking I was funny LOOKING or something, but then I stopped worrying about it and followed the example of my hero, pictured below.

Alfred E. Neuman

Eloise, from San Jose, Ca. - "Hi, Danny! I've been reading your blog for a long, long time and STILL don't understand what you're talking about. Is it me or you that's confused?"

Me - It' s definitely me, Eloise! I really wasn't sure until 87% of the questions submitted were, pretty much, exactly like yours. Some say I'm a complicated soul, others believe me to be eccentric, but my dad always said I was in between dumb and dumber. 

Baroo, from Wewak, Papua New Guinea - "Mister Maness, My name is Baroo. I would LOVE to come to the U.S. of A. some day and live with you for a while. It is beauteous in Wewak, but not much to do. America is so exciting and fun! Would you please welcome me?" 

Me - How are you, Baroo? You are more than welcome to come and live here with me and my family! The more the merrier, I always say! I will give you directions to Peoria, Il., brother. 

Baroo - "Peoria, Il.? I am thinking Baroo will stay in Wewak, no offense, but c'mon man, I want to step UP!"

Recent photo of Peoria, Il. establishment. Circa 10/26/2018

Pecos Pete, from Rattlesnake, Texas - "Howdy Dan'l! What is the circumference of Jupiter?"

Me - 272,946 miles. Ha ha! That happens to be the SECOND most asked question! You Bloggadocious 222 fans know my expertise, don't ya? 

That's where my ceiling fan ran off to! 

Delmita, from Iceball, Alaska - "I listen to the music videos you share with us on your blog. Have you had singing lessons, Danny?"

Me - No, I have not, Delmita.

Delmita - "That's what I thought."

Let's prove Delmita's point! 

Okay! That's all the questions we can handle at this point in Tom! 

At least somebody thought it was funny! 

  Mark a box and comment below, me friends! 

I'M NOT LETTING "THEM" WIN 

I know what "THEY" are trying to do! As soon as I resurrect my uplifting, joyful blog, "THEY" try to pull me down with stories of suspicious packages being sent to unsuspecting political people!

Well, it ain't gonna work, my friends! I can be funny in the face of the fiercest forces fomenting foul feats of fantastic fireworks through Fed EX! Maybe U.P.S.? I'm not sure. The devices could have been sent through the U.S. Post Office, but that seems so 25 years ago, don't it?

So let's rejuvenate our newsweary brains with the happiest song I know...

Isn't this refreshing?

Look! Even the text color is happier! Now we need a prancing puppy, because NOTHING brightens our mood more than a prancing puppy...

Are ya feelin' any better? I know, I am...but I can't stop watching the prancing puppy now. 

You know what else makes me happy? Food! I know it doesn't make the explosive devices go away, or helps the Cental American Caravan to navigate it's way to U.S. soil, but it causes me to have some temporary, fleeting happiness, as I fall into a sleepy stupor. 

So get up off your bootay and make yourself a snack, or go get some White Castle burgers, and I guarantee your outlook will improve, in spite of this rotten, stinking day of bombings, death and destruction! 

I forgot. We don't have a White Castle around here, but Micky D's will work! 

Wait a sec! Actually there was NO death and destruction. COOL! One more thing to be happy about! 

Now, aren't you glad you visited Bloggadocious 222 today? Well, sure you are! You can thank me by making a humorous comment at the bottom. 

Just let me leave you with a little jingle I wrote for the Greg and Dan Radio Show to celebrate A.D.D. Wednesdays, which they will, MOST LIKELY, play tomorrow...or not. Is tomorrow Wednesday? I lose track so easily anymore. Oh, crap, they won't play it tomorrow, due to the seriousness of the news still reverberating in our little brains. 

No matter...I'm gonna be happy in spite of EVERYTHING...

     Go ahead and play this anyway...okay?

Don't Let This Sweet Face Fool You

        Chevy, the Chorkie dog...Chihuahua/Yorkie mix  

What a SWEET face, right?

Soft and furry, with a cute little black nose, deep, brown, soulful eyes, perky, adorable ears, and only 9 dainty little pounds on this pretty little pup.

Who would ever dream that a vicious, destructive MONSTER lies beneath all of this cuteness.

It's important to play this creepy music whilst reading this horrifying TRUE tale! 

Well, go ahead and click on the creepy music...we won't start until you do, pilgrim!! 

It all began when my lovely, sweet wife, Donna, saw his face on the enter-net...inter-knet...computer.

A face that drew her in, as a beautiful Venus Flytrap would draw an unsuspecting fly to his/her demise. 

It SEEMED so normal to go to the shelter and adopt such a precious little guy, who would bring such joy to our lives for a long, long time. 

Little did we know that we were witnessing a brief glimpse of the dark future, when he came out biting on his leash, as if to say, HE was in control!

On the surface, everything SEEMED okay, as Chevy Wevy adjusted to his new surroundings, but then it BEGAN, very slowly and deceptively.

Items started disappearing from the house. First, a tiny ball that our grandkids liked to play with. Next, socks went missing...then shoes, and even large pillows from the couch!! 

Of course, we never suspected our "fur baby" of swiping these things, we naturally thought that a inner-dimensional wormhole had formed somewhere in our home that was sucking our household goods to another world. 

We had an inkling that the wormhole idea was full of holes when things started to re-appear when we gave Chevy treats.  

We started to think that Chevy was holding our belongings hostage until we gave him treats, almost as if HE was training US to give him doggie biscuits!

Ha ha ha! We knew that a dog could not outsmart a human bean...OR COULD HE? 

We realized, after some time, that Chevy preferred doing his duty INSIDE the house, so we laid potty pads around to protect the carpet, that he would rip to shreds until we...you guessed it...gave him a treat.

Next came the werewolf-like growling, snarling, baring teeth, and biting on his mommy's pant legs...terrorizing the other dogs in the neighborhood, as long as they were safely enclosed in their yards or on a leash...and barking at dogs walking down HIS sidewalk, while he stayed secure behind locked doors. 

So, what do you think we did with this unspeakably terrifying beast from Hades? 

Right. He's still here.

We still LOVE him in spite of his idiosyncrasies.

Wouldn't you?

You can turn off the creepy music now. 

WHY DON'T THEY BAN MOTORCYCLES?

This question has bugged me since 1966, when I JOYFULLY sold my Harley Hummer motorcycle to an unsuspecting victim, and NEVER rode ANY motorcycle again, because I have no death wish!! 

                   This is exactly what it looked like...same color and everything.    

I was 15, had extra money from my summer job, and stupid, when I bought the Blue Beast. I didn't call it the Blue Beast then, but I will now, to add a bit of color to the story. 

My intense hatred for the Beast began when it stalled out, in the rain, miles from my house, while I was attempting to make it back before my dad, who made me promise I wouldn't take it off our street, came home.  (I soon found out it stalled out EVERY time it rained).

I'll not share the words my dad used in this family oriented blog, but I was kinda shocked he didn't kill me. In fact, he was surprisingly forgiving about the incident, after he calmed down...almost like he may have had a similar experience as a kid. 

I didn't question it. 

I could not afford a leather jacket or helmet or boots or ANYTHING, so when I slipped on loose gravel (el numero times) it HURT my tender body parts, however, the concussions NEVER damaged my brain.

In addition, it was cold...even when the weather was not that cold. Like at night. The movement of the motorcycle created a Nordic wind that froze my tussie off...especially with my customary, black, muscleman tee shirt on. 

Definitely not me in photo

Conversely, it was HOT, with the sun beating down on my teenage head, in the blistering heat of a St. Louis summer! 

To make it simple, here is a list of things that led me to despise motorcycles...

1. It was next to impossible to carry groceries for my mom.

2. The giant bugs smacked me in the face, teeth and forehead with the tremendous force of cannonballs.
(Small cannonballs).

3. I was really disappointed in the poor performance on ice and snow. 

4. Could not bring my friends to the Drive-In Theater with me. (It was $1.00 a car load back then, so I was missing a great deal!)

5. All the other things I already mentioned.

Okay, now...let's get to the nitty gritty...dirt band! 

The U.S. government FORCES cars to have tons of safety features, which include...safety belts, safety glass, air bags, a padded dash, 4...count them...one...two...three...four tires, and a LOT of other stuff too numerous to recount at this time.

Motorcycles, on the other hand, don't need nuttin' honey! 

How does that happen? Sometimes I wonder if the governmental authorities want to eliminate all the motorcycle people   because motorcycles are so stinking LOUD! 

Yeah!! That's another thing! Why can motorcycles be so LOUD and cars have to be quiet? Dudes will even put megaphones on their "bikes" to make them even LOUDER, and WHY do motorcycle folks keep revving up their engines for no other reason than bringing attention to themselves, and why...

I better stop ranting or I'll bust a gasket.

I hope I didn't offend any motorcycle enthusiasts. I know how sensitive you can be.