Sunday, January 21, 2018

This Is It

     For reals.
    I've decided the time has finally come to shutter Penwasser Place for good.  I fully acknowledge that I've put you all through a "is he going, is he staying?" schizophrenia for the past month or so and I apologize for that.  But I just can't do this anymore.
    If you're still here, let me explain (if you want to put yourself through it).
    As most of you probably know, I experienced a significant personal event toward the end of the summer.  What took me by surprise was how much it would impact me.  Now, as you also know,  I tend to be somewhat off my rocker, but these flights of insanity were always good-natured.  My silliness tended toward a "Geez, it could be worse.  I could be Penwasser" kind of motivation.
    But, as the year wound down, things became a little darker in my world.  I made decisions which affected, and deeply hurt, good people whose only crime was letting me come into their lives, either in the past few months or over thirty years ago.  I was called "very very mean and cruel."  Now, I'm not sure about the "mean" part (that could be true...maybe?  I hope not), but "cruel"?  Perhaps...possibly my actions, however well-intentioned, actually resulted in accidental cruelty.
    I can't express to you enough how much that thought bothers me.  The guilt I have I'll carry till the day I die.  I never thought I'd be haunted by my actions, but there you are.
    In essence, given the depths in which I find myself, I don't think I can maintain this blog anymore.  Oh sure (like before), I'll still pop up on Facebook.  That pretty much gives me an outlet for quick snippets of whatever pops into my empty skull.  Likewise, I'll continue to work on my next book.  Far be it from me to deny millions the chance to ignore another one of my hideous pieces of dreck.
    But, Blogger, by its nature, requires a pretty consistent happy face and that I cannot do.
    I will be back eventually, but Penwasser Place will not.  When that happens, I'll have a new blog from which I'll seek you out.  I'm sure it will also be silly (can't change my nature, after all), but I need to try to clear my head a bit.
    I've turned off comments for this "Pity Party" because I'm not looking for any.  Merely, I just wanted to let you know what was what before you go looking here and see that it's been deleted without so much as an explanation.  I won't turn things off for a few days to give stragglers a chance to read my farewell before I ride off into the literary sunset.

    Goodbye, my friends.  We'll see each other again.    

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

The Tide Has Turned

Today, Phil Murphy, a genuine crackpot, was sworn in as New Jersey's Governor.  With that, Governor Chris Christie becomes Private Citizen Chris Christie.  A bombastic individual given to oft-times outrageous remarks and actions, Chris Christie will leave a huge (no pun intended) hole here at Penwasser Place.  He was always good for a laugh or two (or several).  And, given that no attempt to stifle my good-natured jabs, either through a friendly phone call or legal action, was ever made, I think the Governor had no trouble laughing at himself.  Or nobody pays any attention whatsoever to Penwasser Place.  Which is a 99.9% probability.  Anyway, I wish him well while, at the same time, yearn for the good old days when he was a comedy gold mine.  I won't be able to lampoon him quite like I did.  Good luck to you and your family, Governor!  I'll miss you!

"So will we."


"Oh, by the way, I hope nobody bought that
no longer making fun of you when you're out of office bullcrap."

"I know, right?"

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Stable Genius

"I can do quadratic equations with my hooves, quote Voltaire, and am currently working on a cure for cancer using a chia pet, back issues of TV Guide, and a spork."

"Quite frankly, this is the type of thinker I'm looking for. Can I tell you...he reminds me a lot of me, to be honest.  Some of the most outstanding people, or draft animals, can be found in straw-filled places of employment. I count them as some of the best this nation has to offer and we desperately need a wall, fence, jersey barrier, or stack of Velveeta cheese to keep them from suffering unfair competition from beast of burdens of other nations...MEXICO!  CHINA!!  No wonder the donkey is the symbol of my party because....what?  It's a symbol of the Democratic Party?  Oh.  Well.  What's our symbol?  Rosie O'Donnell?  Michael Moore?  That doughnut guy from New Jersey?  Oh, an elephant?  Same, same, to tell you the truth.  I plan on submitting this intelligent beast as my next Secretary of Agriculture.  His talents are bigly.  I WANT THAT ASS!"


Saturday, January 6, 2018

Happy Epiphany!

WARNING:  The following post is probably irreverent.    Is it any wonder the nuns said a spot in Purgatory has been reserved in my name for about 1,000 years?

"A tousand at least.  Knuckles, if ye please, boyo."

NOTE 1:  If you follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram (yeah, I’m a social media whore that way), you’re seen my initial take on Epiphany (aka “Three Kings Day,” “The Twelfth Day of Christmas,” or “Why Is The Frikkin’ Tree Still Up Day??”).  The good news is that I can blather on and on here, whilst (got a new set of fancy words for Christmas) those other sites limit me.  Even though an Executive Order mandated that Twitter open itself to 280 characters, I'm verbally hamstrung at time.

"Excuse me, excuse me, I've got many important things to say and 280 characters give me plenty of chances to misspell or exaggerate.  Frankly, what I have to say is more important than anyone else, especially anyone from fake news.  And, if I could be completely honest, my keyboard is big, beautiful, and it works.  It's the most beautiful keyboard in existence because it's mine.  It's not small, believe me, believe me.

"Ohhhh, no you don't. 
You can't pin this on us. 
Penwasser moved to Wallingford his senior year."
NOTE 2:  This is yet another time where I will go without a net and run my mouth about history, regardless of facts, without doing any basic research from either Google, Wikipedia, or that guy pushing a shopping cart full of cans down the street.  If I get anything wrong, sue me.  And you may want to send a strongly worded letter to the Stratford Connecticut School District.  After all, they done learned me.

NOTE 4:  You may have noticed I made a few minor changes to this blog.  In essence, I shined up a turd a wee bit.  Thanks for noticing.

So, let’s get on with it...

Happy Epiphany Day!
(you think 'day' is necessary?)

    In the first century A.D., a group of kings (or so the Bible says) got word from-somewhere...don’t know...don’t care...maybe a Babylonian real estate magnate, Malakai John Trump sent them a tweet on a stone tablet...who knows?-that something big was going down far to the West.  Since Beyonce wouldn’t be born for another couple thousand years, it had to be some other sort of bigshot.

NOTE 5 (another note???):  I refuse to adhere to that ridiculous “C.E./B.C.E.” nonsense.  If B.C. and A.D. were good enough for the Pilgrims and Spanish Inquisition, they’re good enough for me.  Thank you for understanding.

    So, Gaspar, Balthasar, and Melchior (spelling could be off. net) packed their camels, horses, and donkeys (Gaspar had to ride a donkey.  That’s what he got for missing the planning meeting), with enough supplies for a journey across the desert. 

    Balthasar swore that the big-ass star in the sky would point the way, although his servant, Herschel the Flatulent, would have preferred they had visited the local AAA Office.

    In any event, they got lost and, being men, refused to ask for directions.  The result was that they failed to get to Bethlehem in time.  Luckily, though, some local shepherds (except the German Shepherds...nobody trusted them.  Especially in Judea) said the Christs had gone back home to Nazareth.

    They wouldn’t reach Nazareth, however, until January 6th, twelve days after Jesus was born in the Stable Annex of the Bethlehem Motel 6.

NOTE 6 (oh, good grief):  Even though I’m not researching any facts, I know that Jesus wasn’t born in December.  Most historians say he was likely born sometime in September.  But, since early Church Fathers wanted to take advantage of all the festive carrying on during the December feast of Saturnalia, they chose to hold Christmas in the winter and make everyone freeze while eating fruitcake.  In fact, Jesus probably wasn’t even born the first year of the century.  Instead he was likely born in 4 B.C. or “Four Years Before Christ.”  I don’t know for sure.  Maybe.  Who knows?  Were you there?  Yeah, that’s what I thought.  It’s all pretty confusing, though.  Makes you wish you were Jewish.  Wait.  So were they.  Good grief, my head’s spinning.

As opposed to the early Church Mamas and the Papas.

    When they finally reached Nazareth, they presented the Baby with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  Mr. and Mrs. Christ were okay with gold, but unclear about the other things.
"Hey, sorry about the myrrh, but Gaspar was
supposed to pick up a layette set at the Damascus Kohl's. 
No wonder we made him ride the donkey."

NOTE 7 (okay, I give up):  Apparently, “frankincense” and “myrrh” were pretty big deals back in the day.  Like good, clean rest rooms.  And fresh underwear.  Once again, I don’t know.  Screw it.  I just know they didn't bring an X-Box or one of them Alexa things.

"Not frankenstein?"

    Thankfully, they were able to stay a day or two before heading back.  And Mary made a bundt cake.  So, there was that.

    They also got directions from Saul the Beggar.

    The Three Kings ended up in Jersey.

    But, luckily, they were able to get parking for their camels validated.

    So, now you know, kinda, what all the hubbub is about Epiphany.

"Hey, it may not be the real Christmas,
but I bet you can save a bundle
on one of them crazy hats, amirite?"
FINAL NOTE:  If you weren’t confused then, you’ll definitely be confused now.  Epiphany is
Christmas in the Eastern Orthodox faith.  Unfortunately, they don’t get to take the day off from work, but they can capitalize on some crazy sales at the stores.

Now take your damn tree down.

Or you can call it an "Easter Bush." 
Your call.

Monday, December 25, 2017

Merry Christmas!

    As you're reading this, I'm probably sleeping off wild Christmas Eve celebrations.  Oh, who am I kidding?
    I'm probably sleeping, though.

"Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping night watch over their flock.  The angel of the Lord shone around them...and said to them, 'Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.  For today in the city of David, a Savior...hey!! Why the frik is that sailor tying his shoe??'"
-Luke, Chapter 2, Verses 8-10

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Saturday, December 23, 2017