The Greater Depression Chronicles: Shoes, Stooges, Groceries and Thieves...

Here, in no particular order, are some of the things that have crossed my mind over the past few weeks....

Showing his sole...

...Iraq's king of sole...

They're throwing shoes at Mr. Bush in Iraq. It's proof positive that things have improved dramatically over there. They can afford to throw away perfectly good shoes by hurling them at politicians, while we Americans can't even afford to buy'em anymore.

Ah, the sweet smell of progress!

* * *

I work in the food industry. I read an industry trade magazine recently. Someone in an article said that Americans will continue to spend half their food budget on dining out or takeout meals.

Why? Well, it's part of our culture. It can't change.


I pondered that while I was buying bulk chicken, pork and beef the other day to stretch our food bucks as far as possible. I mulled it over some more while cruising our regular supermarket, my eyes running across the price stickers for the day-glow highlight that screamed "discount!"

I thought some more about it while reading that Wal Mart's CEO has seen a shift in consumer buying habits. Folks are cooking more at home to save dough. Americans are using more leftovers. We're buying more frozen foods.

Back to the Grindstone...

...I've been busy with a number of things since Thanksgiving, including a fundraiser for the political committee I belong to. I've been whacking away at fiction here and there when I had a few spare moments. I am ramping back up to full "writing mode" now, so posting will resume shortly...just didn't want y'all thinking I was dead or abducted by aliens (again) for experiments.

(Dang it's cold in that Mother Ship...and I hate those anal probes...they came 3,000 light years to do that?!?)



The Sky Was Falling...So a Coupla Two-Tree Months Ago, da Boys Whipped Up an Emergency Plan to Save the Universe!

Trust Us!

Really...Trust Us!

Really...Trust Us!

But Just Last Week In Washington...

Fughgedaboutit! ya get the feeling we've all been thrown under the bus??

* * *

Time for a New Tailor...

...So Where's the Change??

I've been hearing a lot about all the "change" that's coming to Washington. That's all anyone talked about during that long election run...change, change, change.

So when President-Elect Obama met with President Bush recently, I was curious to see if I could spot "change" right from the get-go.

Well as far as I can tell, the new fella is already starting to look a lot like the guy who's upstairs in the White House every night packing up the U-Haul cartons for the trip back to Texas.

It would seem Mr. Obama has already been to the Gov'ment tailor:

Different men...the same danged tailor!

Different men, but the same danged tailor!

There they stood at their photo-op in very similar suits. Oh, sure, a coupla-two-tree cosmetic differences: Mr. Bush's tie is patterned; Mr. Obama's suit is just ever-so-slightly different in hue; Mr. Bush leans noticeably to his right; Mr. Obama is trying to lean left, but the President is blocking his path.

All in all, a disappointment to anyone looking for "change."

Well, I did the only thing I could. I picked up the Super-Secret Dynamo-Phone and called both men.

Mr. Obama was busy reviewing his plans to rip out the White House bowling alley and drop in a basketball court.

"You blame me, Jimbo?" he asked. "I bowled a 37 in Altoona back in March!"


Top board games for the imminent Greater Depression:

Life - The Game of Foreclosure!

Spin the dial and see how much you adjustable mortgage increases! Last player to lose their house wins!

Spin that dial! Lose that house!

Spin that dial! Lose that house!

Monopoly - The Depression Edition!

Say goodbye to houses and it's tents and hobo cities! No more Community it's Soup Kitchen Kards! "Free Parking" has been replaced by "Poor House." All new playing pieces, too: Roulette Pistol, Bicycle, Empty Wallet, Noose, and a Gas Can!

Fun, fun, fun...all the way to the Poor House!

Fun, Fun, Fun...all the way to the POOR HOUSE!!!


An update on an old favorite....Battleship! Will you sink your opponent's finances...or will he torpedo yours!

You sunk my bank account!

You sunk my bank account!

Coming soon: BAILOUT! Run your corporation into the ground and compete for gubbermint dough!

No Cognitive Defect - Part VIII

No Cognitive Defect - Part VIII

By James M. O'Meara, © 2008

(Need to catch up on NCD,? Just click here!)

The Clinic...

In some parts of Massachusetts, the weather had been downright balmy a few hours before the storm struck. In Worcester, it was nearly fifty degrees at midnight before the temperature began to plummet. Northwest of Worcester, in Paxton, the temperature dropped nearly forty degrees in four hours. Farther west, in Glennon, the swing was forty-three degrees and the wind was gusting to fifty miles-per-hour as the first flakes fell.

Penn State Does Its Part to Clear Up the Whole BCS Mess....

They lost to Iowa.

It's my fault.

I changed the game-snack from cheese and crackers (or chips) to fried chicken. I also didn't pace enough in front of the television.

What the *$&^% was I thinking?

Sorry, boys...I let you down!



The Seal of the President of the United States

Admits campaign was "a disaster of near-biblical proportions."

November 6, 2008
Plains, PA (UPI-oh-ki-yay)

A Statement From Jimbo....

Dear "Jimbo for President" supporters (both of you guys):

America has spoken. It would seem now is not the time for a "Wings-n-Brewski Presidency."

Barak Obama called me "out of touch." (This was untrue. I was, in fact, unconscious. Never drink three pitchers before eating your wings).

John McCain said I was "untested." (Also untrue. I've never met a chicken wing I couldn't best.)

The fact of the matter is, I didn't have the resources to mount an effective campaign. There was no money for advertising. All $64.28 in my campaign war chest went for wings and suds to feed the campaign workers. I had hoped for a strong show of support in the Buffalo area, birthplace of the Buffalo-style chicken wing, but the late surge of six votes just wasn't enough to turn the tide.

I humbly concede to my opponent. I'll be across the street at Dan's working on a dozen and drowning my sorrows in lager.

Thanks for your support! (Campaign donations are still being accepted...Cajun or Nuclear wings preferred.)

Hail to the Chief?

2012 is right around the corner!

No Cognitive Defect - Part VII

No Cognitive Defect - Part VII

By James M. O'Meara, © 2008

(Need to catch up on NCD,? Just click here!)

Some light for the cellar...

The first thought through Wilson's mind as he lay on the cellar floor was: Thank God Evan wasn't home. How many times had Evan fretted that one day Wilson would end up tumbling down these steep cellar stairs? When Evan was in town, Wilson couldn't go down to the cellar without his son following him slowly down the steps, so near Wilson could feel his breath on the back of his neck.

"What do you need?" Evan would ask. "I'll get it for you."

"I don't need anything. I'm just checking on Hoffa's body," Wilson would reply. "Stay upstairs. If you see where I've buried him I'll have to shoot you."

"Dad, please, you're going to fall down the steps one of these days."

It's time to...


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