Bad, bad blogger!

I have been a very bad blogger, and haven't posted in a long time despite having some great things to write about over the holidays. Anyway, I'll try to be better.

Motorcyclist Apologizes

Anyone who knows me knows that I, along with most other motorcyclists, feel that there is a special place in Hell for people who drive carelessly, recklessly, or aggressively. Here's a funny column about a very not funny reality.

Motorcyclist offers apology and restitution to members of DUMB

An apology is in order, so, please, forgive me. It was not until this morning on my ride to work that I fully understood I was in error.

Yes, I've noticed that there are many very busy and important people on the roads. You all are hard to miss with the cell phones, laptops, breakfast bars, coffee, cigarettes and all, but until now, I didn't realize I was causing so much trouble for you busy, multitasking drivers.

I figured it out this morning, thanks to the nice lady working on the laptop who needed the lane I was in.

First, ma'am, let me say that when I honked at you from the shoulder, I didn't mean to startle you. My intent was just to give you a little beep to let you know the lane was all yours. But I was braking so hard, I couldn't lift my thumb off the horn button. My bad.

I surely didn't mean to cause you to nearly hit the guy talking on the cell phone. You know, he was smoking and talking as he moved his SUV right into the space you had just left.

Anyway, the good news is, that's when I realized all of you multitasking drivers must be texting each other about intended lane changes and running traffic lights and stop signs and such. I'm sorry - I'm still using old-fashioned blinkers. I didn't realize you needed some time to e-notify that guy that you needed the lane back. I really messed it up for both of you!

I can only say that the guard rail was a little distracting, and I was only thinking about myself. I'll try harder next time.

Like I said, I didn't know that was how you multitasking drivers were communicating. It must have been in an e-mail, but my laptop fell off my tank and I haven't replaced it.

However, I have a solution.

I know many of you are so busy and important that you have no choice - you have to eat, work, talk, read and do lots of other really important things as you drive.

Those of us who use the road only for traveling would be happy to stay out of your way; we just need to know you're coming.

A little visual clue would help - I was thinking of a bumper sticker. That way, everyone could identify you as Drivers Utilizing Multiple Behaviors.

Of course, that's a little long, so we'd cut it down to an acronym - DUMB.

If you'd place stickers on the front, back and maybe the sides of your car, the rest of us would know not to interfere with you on the road.

I think it's such a good idea, I'll pay for the bumper stickers and even put them on for you. Deal?

Again, I'm sorry I got in your way. I'll try harder to see you coming from now on.

I promise!

Larry Supina is an Amarillo resident. He works as a safety manager at Pantex.

[Click on it to read the full sized version]

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Her Name was Louise...

I saw this on Two Wheel Females and thought I'd share it here, it had me laughing out loud!

As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowing, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty.

One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Wal-Mart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown.

If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, "What does this do? You're kidding me! Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.

I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour.

Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love Dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for Lovable Louise. She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a doll took a huge leap of imagination.

On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life.

My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours.

The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.

We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.

My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked.

My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped.

I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut.

"Where are her clothes?" Granny continued.

"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice Gran" Jay said, to steer her into the dining room.

But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"

Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"

My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?"

I told him she was Jay's friend.

A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.

The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa.

The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants.

Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car.

It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.

Later, in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered that Louise had suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.