Bad Job Academy

I am a big fan of movies.  I love a great film.  I am also one of those wanna-be critic chuckleheads.  I can't just sit there and enjoy the movie for entertainment.  I dissect it like a high school science class.
I love art direction, camera angles, lighting, and all that boring stuff.
Yeah, I probably follow the directors more than the movies themselves.
Who wrote the movie?  Well, seriously I'm asking.
How much CGI did they use?  I don't care.
What's the dialogue?
I'll admit I'm a nerd, not like Potsie Weber, no more like Roger Ebert, but without the money, fame and speech impediment.

It's Oscar time...
and every year the Academy Awards usually get it wrong.  Every year they make more bad choices than Eddie Murphy...Sure, they get one right once in awhile, but Murphy picked Shrek too.

Let's look at some of our past Oscar winners for Best Picture:

Dances with Wolves

This would make a much better movie.

Wow!  That movie was long...I fell asleep just thinking about it.   That movie was so long that I stumbled out of the theater like Rip Van Winkle, disoriented...
"What year is it?"
"Where is my family?"
"The best actor in that was the 13th Buffalo."
If he had actually danced with wolves, maybe I would agree that it should have won.  Now, of course no other movies in 1990 were worth the Oscar over that Kevin Costner wolf dancing film.

Oh yeah, Goodfellas.  What is wrong with the Academy?  Did they not see both movies?  Henry Hill should have put Costner in a trunk.  And how did Marty Scorsese not win the best director?  Scorsese should have put Costner in a trunk.  (I know the joke didn't work the first time either.)
Bad job Academy.

How Green Was My Valley

I guessing the third one to the left.

I've never seen it, but I have seen the Maltese Falcon...and movies don't get any better than that...oh wait, what?  Citizen Kane was in the same year?  Newspaper mogul, who the film is based on, William Randolph Hearst made sure that Kane didn't win, so are you telling me some shady business was going on behind the scenes at the Academy?  What is going on?
Bad job Academy.

I'll just pick one more.

Forrest Gump

Mama said, "life is like an overrated movie."

But, wait this a movie everyone loves.  It has to be the #1 most overrated movie ever!  Okay, I forgot Scarface...my bad.  So, did I like Forrest Gump?  I didn't, but in case you forgot...I'm not normal.  I'm not like that town in Illinois. (Hopefully, you get that joke.  It is weak, but you should expect nothing less.)  It's like this joke:

Why was six afraid of seven?

It wasn't. Numbers are not sentient and thus incapable of feeling fear.

Another weak joke.  I am in one of those moods.  

How did Forrest Gump beat both Pulp Fiction and Shawshank Redemption.  Forrest Gump took out two of my top twenty movies of all time and it doesn't even make my top 250.  It had a couple of good catch phrases and I do love shrimp, but seriously?  That is a terrible job Academy.

Sorry this isn't one of my funnier posts, but it's better than reading other blogs, unless they are really good blogs...than you should read them.  I wish I had more jokes for you, but how about next time?  Is that okay?  Thanks for understanding...just being critical.

All that to say some of my favorite movies aren't the greatest movies.  Yes, I love some of the critical acclaimed Godfather movies, Citizen Kane, Wizard of Oz, but there are others that I am not fond of at all...On the Waterfront or Singin' In the Rain.  And I have favorites that like Dirty Work, Batman, Zombieland, and The Royal Tenebaums.
So after reading all this, just ignore it and go out and enjoy whatever movie you like.  I hear White Chicks is on cable.


I give this post two thumbs down.
- Critic Bill

Wife Minus Kids

I received quite a bit of good feedback for the romantic post (In the Mood).  Thank you.  So, here is a quick story of Shannon and I sans kids.

We were looking fine.  We had just attended a marriage counseling course down in Rome, Georgia, called Winshape.  No matter what your relationship is with your spouse, I highly recommend.  It is well worth the trip.  You will gain so much and become a closer, tighter unit.

We now had one more night in Georgia, and we decided to dress up and go out on the town in Atlanta.  I was looking handsome in something handsome (that's not really important).  Shannon was decked out to the nines.  (I don't know what that means, but it sounds classy.)  And she was classy.  Make-up done perfectly.  Hair, the way she likes it, because when you have kids a mother has very little time for herself.  Kids try to make every parent look like a homeless person.

Must go bald!

Shannon was wearing a beautiful outfit with high heels.  Remember that.  She was also carrying a small purse.  Small is the key word in the last sentence, again, when you are a mother of  little children, small purses become obsolete.   She was free of the kids and in no way needed to carry around our lives on her shoulder.  How are you going to carry tissues, ear muffs, crayons, flare guns, socks, make-up, combs, brushes, hair clips, and more with a small purse?  You can't.

Things for a trip to the park.

But that night, the purse contained just the essentials, just keys, make-up, brush, lipsticks, and some money.

Trying to be a sexy mom is tough...you have no time for yourself and you become a slave to the needs of those little vultures.  I love our kids.  Shannon loves our kids.  But, sometimes parents need a time-out...and that brings us back to this short story, which is getting longer by the second.

We picked the Hard Rock Cafe, because that is totally my style.

There was a small wait in the foyer, but while we waited there were huge pictures of Hendrix and Lennon, along with their guitars.  The music was rocking and the floors were wooden.  Wooden floors, another important key.  Those floors looked newly waxed.

This is a picture of high heels on wood.

Did you see where this is going, Stevie Wonder?

I was looking up at some rock and roll artifact, when I heard the thud of a body hitting the floor and having to duck from being struck from the small purse flying over my head.  A loud gasp echoed through the Hard Rock. There the purse was in front of me...Shannon's.  So, now I knew who the thud belonged too.

I peered out of the side of my eye and there was my beauty, laying face first on the floor of the Hard Rock.  She had attempted to slide, like Pete Rose, for some reason.  She was "safe!"

Actual picture of Shannon.

I did what any loving husband would do...I thought...do I pretend not to know her?  Or be oblivious, I am good at that.  But, in the end, I helped her.  She was still beautiful, but her cheeks didn't need any blush.  She was okay, just embarrassed, and rightly so...she had just wiped out in front of a crowded restaurant.  But, I still love her.

I know this makes me sound like a real creep...but, it's all in fun.  Right?

So, I always try to teach a lesson.  So, today's lesson, children: Do not go out to dinner with Shannon, if she is wearing high heels.

From,
Bill, the one who didn't fall that time.

In the Mood

If you really love some one tell them.  And ...
Don't forget to be romantic.  Keeping the romance alive is tough, especially as you get older.
I know, I know, you are still young at heart.  No matter what those crow's feet are telling you.  Let's be honest, your face is always changing.  You are getting older.  We all see it, so let's just admit it.  Okay, ladies and gents?

In life, you start out looking  like a porcelain doll.  Smooth and silky, ah those baby years... you know, you were cute once.  Those years go by quickly.  Then you turn seven, and it's like you walked through Chernobyl.  Your teeth start falling out in rapid succession.  It's scary, there are children running around  looking like Jack-O-Lanterns.  Those years are a little rough, but what comes next is a nightmare...The Pizza Hut years.

Yearbook photo - 1993

Even they couldn't have made a greasier bubbly mess than the face of a teenager.  Teenage faces have more blackheads then a Spike Lee joint.  Let's call it like we see it, teenagers are disgusting creatures.  The male teenagers' voice can become a pentatonic scale in one sentence.  And the female teenager will wake up four hours earlier to try to cover the loads of blemishes with make-up and fix their hair, (trying to remember that their face is not a coloring book and hairspray isn't a sealant  -a little dab will do you.)  following it up by trying to cover up those raccoon tired eyes, because of waking up four hours early to start the beautification project.

But, those years pass too and you HAVE to move quick, because you really only have a good four or so years before the wrinkles begin, because old age is like the Big Bad Wolf and there is a lot of huffing and puffing at your front door.  Let me tell ya, old age ain't kind.  I don't know what is worse, looking like a pepperoni pizza pie or a human Shar Pei.  

Minutes after my thirtieth birthday party.

The teenage years had a new body hair battle, but bad news...the hair wins in the end.  You can't stop it.  You can try to shave it, pluck it, wax it (Alone in the Bathroom), but it won't quit.  We can't beat it, so do we join it? Trying to grow a mustache to hide those two inch long nose hairs isn't fooling anyone, grandpa.  You want to look your best, guys, for that special someone, well I have more bad news.

The hair on the top of your head...gone.  But, like some crazy magic trick, it's gonna reappear...abracadabra, hey ladies meet...Ear hair.

Oh yeah, that's sexy.

Getting old sucks.  It just does.  Sure, that little old couple look so cute, but you gotta admit - it's pretty gross.  Right?  It's going to be hard to have those romantic feelings when I'm older.

I mean, nothing gets your partner going more than a bottle of Metamucil and brand new Depends.

Add your own joke about Depends.  It's easy enough.

So, after all that in you are still in the mood?

Still trying to build that romance?  It ain't easy...especially when you have kids.  Between work and kids, it's hard just staying awake through an episode of Survivor, let alone trying to be romantic.

Sure you find him cute.

Sure you find her sexy.

But, exhaustion isn't an aphrodisiac.

So, what do you do?  There are plenty of ways to try to spice up the romance.  Don't ask me, I don't have a clue.

Sure, you have to try things.  You must have a routine.  Maybe, guys, those old baggy pajama pants and your favorite t-shirt with the sweat stained armpits isn't a turn on.

Dress Foxy - Not Wolfy

And don't think you are getting out of it that easy women...

because no make-up, hair in a bun, same pajama pants and one of our old t-shirts (because, it is just more comfortable) ain't doing any good either.  Okay, I lied.  (Truthfully, it doesn't really matter what you wear...you could be wearing a hefty bag and dressed like that bird lady from Home Alone 2.)

Hey Baby, whatcha doing later?

But let's get back to the real romance killers, yes, the kids really put a giant damper on the whole romance thing.  No more spontaneity...that is history.  The only thing that becomes spontaneous is the fact that during your alone time you might have to comfort a bad dream or worse yet, the true killer, having a sick child.  Nothing is worse than seeing a sick child (right after you really thought you were getting somewhere.)

Romance is important.  It really is.  Your partner is the most important person, (and if you are single...well, I have other posts that will relate better to you.  This isn't one of them.  So, instead, go out and find the perfect mate.  They are easy enough to find, just make sure you get some good binoculars and that they have a large tree in their front lawn.  I'm kidding, don't be a creeper, because finding the perfect mate behind bars is even harder...and if you think finding time for romance is tough with kids, imagine a cellmate.)

Everyone is different and everyone has different things that help add a boost to their romance, but there are some old wive's tales that just don't work.
Add a little music for some extra romance.

Music does not add anything to the mood.  Oh, sure, you want to argue with me.  Well, if I agreed with you, then we would both be wrong.  Music in theory, should work, but it doesn't.

Four major problems with Mood Music

1. You know the song

Singing along while trying to be sexy, you might as well just put on those Depends.  You might think you are sounding like Eddie Vedder, but you really sound like a cat with it's tail caught under the rocking chair.

"Yeah but, Bill, I put on Let's Get it On, by Marvin Gaye.  That's sexy."

Is it?  Because if you listen carefully enough it sounds like the opening to The Price Is Right.  So, now you have Rod Roddy in your head saying,

 "Billy Merkh, come on down."

Okay, that's dead.  Rod Roddy has never helped cure any romances.  "But, what about a little Barry White?"

Yeah, that's what you need.  Some big black dude in the corner, talking racy to your woman.  No, thank you.  I feel inadequace enough.  I don't need...

"You are lookin' fine, baby."

2. You don't know the song.

Not sure I've ever heard this song.  Oh, this is a cool song, yeah she is looking sweet...okay, where are we going?  Is that a drum solo?  That's odd.  Oh, wait is this song about NATO?  I think I am being lectured about child labor in Hondorus.  No, honey, you still look amazing.  Wait, I am pretty sure, he's talking about Kim Jong Il.

"You looking fine, baby."

3. You will never think of that song the same again.

"And it's one, two, three strikes you're out at the old ball game..." he he he that is filthy.  You still have the giggles eating Cracker-Jacks too.  But, that still isn't as bad as trying to explain why you always snicker at the theme to the A-Team.

4.  You will remember the other times you heard that song. 

You look so beautiful, sweetheart, oh remember when we heard this song...where were we?    Oh yeah, church, boy, this is awkward.

So, I guess music is out of it.

But, if you learned anything, which I'm sure you haven't, remember one thing...

Finding that special someone is one of the greatest gifts that you will ever know.  Treat them great.  Treat them right.  Treat them like they are one of the greatest gifts, because they are.  It doesn't matter what is on the outside, they are a special treasure.  Let them know it.  You will have some rough times, but don't let that discourage you.  There has to be a reason you fell in love them to begin with.  What was that reason?

Their smile?

Their eyes?

Their humor?

Their kindness?

Their brains?

Why did you fall in love?  Cherish them.  And if you think that your romance is gone...find it.  Take the time to let them know that you love them.  You will be happy you did.

BILL LOVES SHANNON

CHECK PLEASE!

Are you a bad orderer?

You know what I mean, when you go to a restaurant and want something - you place your order with someone, are you bad at it?
On a scale from 1-10 what kind of orderer are you?
Let's give a scale - 10 - being Megan Fox and 1 - being Kathy Griffin

10 - Ordering Scale

1 - On any scale

How I imagine Megan Fox ordering at a restaurant:

Megan: I'll have a well done burger with no cheese, a side of fries and a Diet Coke.

It left no questions.  Because at this establishment, burgers come with lettuce, tomatoes, and onions.  The Bun is a sourdough bun and the ketchup is already on the table.

Kathy Griffin ordering:

Kathy: We're ready.  I want um...let me see...what do you like?  Are the burgers any good?  I'll have a burger...no wait...I had a burger last week and it got stuck in my throat...so maybe...do you have meatloaf?  I didn't see it on the menu...maybe pancakes...What is everyone else having?  Okay, I'll have the hamburger with what kind of cheese do you have?  Okay, I'll take the American...no wait let's make it swiss...no make it american.  I want fries.  Can I have them well done.  Don't burn them.  Just a little blackened.  But, crunchy....and no salt.  and to drink...what kind of soda do you have?  Oh...I'll take a Diet Coke.

Is that you?  Are you a Kathy Griffin?  Reading it, sounds ridiculous, but I have gone out to dinner with people like that...and I know you have too.  And if you haven't, guess what?  The person everyone dreads to eat with because they are such a bad orderer is probably...you.

Should have shaved my hairy knuckles

Here are some helpful hints that I can give to you to make you a better orderer:  (take these with you and maybe you'll even get more friends or dates)

1. Order only what you want: (unless there is one item you have some crazy serious allergy if you eat it.  But don't share too much about your allergy.  "I can't have rhubarb or my butt looks like a Japanese flag.")

Rhubarb butt

Example of what NOT to do:
"I'll have a ham and cheese sandwich with mustard, no mayo, lettuce, no tomato, no provolone, with pepperjack, a pickle, no chips, on rye bread, not wheat or white, not toasted, for here not to go."

2. Order what the restaurant serves:  If you go to a steakhouse - order steak.  Seafood place - seafood.  Salad Works - salad.  Quizno - garbage.

Example of what NOT to do:
"Everything seems so meaty, do you have anything besides steak?  Something more tofuy."
Remember it's not the waiter's fault, you chose to eat there.

3. While ordering don't be a tool.
"Hey, Sugarbridges, give me everything on the menu.  Ha ha ha.  I'm kiddin'.  You gots some of 'em baked pasta things.  Ziti.  Like a zit.  Har har."
You know you want the baked pasta, order it.

Looks pretty tasty.

4. While ordering, don't ask what everyone else at the table is having.
"I like spinach.  Are you having spinach?  Really?  What are you having?  Oh, the Grand Slam breakfast.  That sounds good.  What are you having?  I like sausage and eggs.  And you?  I like bacon and french toast.  Okay, okay.  I'm ready.  I'll have the Turkey club."

5. While ordering, don't try to pick up the waitress. (literally or figuratively)
"I'll just have a B.L.T. and a Cherry Coke...and what time do you get off tonight?  You know I'm pretty killer.  In fact, I'm the biggest killer since O.J. Simpson."

Hey Ladies...what you doing?

6. While ordering, stay off the phone.
"I'll have the...hold on a second man...I'll have a root beer float...hold on, man, I'm ordering...and some fries, and...yeah, oh you want some fries too, but I can't get over there tonight.  I'm not freezing them, dude.  They don't taste good...let me see...do the fries taste good if I freeze them?"

7. Don't ask the waiter or waitress what they like.
"What do you like better, the pork loin or licking the stop sign out front?"
How do you know that if they like it you'll like it too?  Some people are into some weird crap, you can't trust them.  And what kind of answer are you expecting?  "Are the hush puppies any good here?"  "No, in fact, if you want a good hush puppy, I recommend across the street.  We have a Redbox outside."

8. Don't be so picky.  Yes, you are paying for it, but there will be other meals.  This won't be your last meal. (Unless, you are reading this from a Texas prison, because then your chances of it being your last are about 60-40.)
"I'll have the caramelized pears seared at three thousand degrees, by a chef from the Galapagos Islands, who only wears red socks when he cooks and has a tattoo of Tattoo from Fantasy Island on his left inner thigh and make sure it is on a blue plate and served with a chilled spoon."

9. Finally - Don't sound like an idiot while ordering.  Make sure to use the right linguistics.  If the word needs to be plural - use it.  BUT, DO NOT make the word plural if it is not a plural word.
"I'll have the Macaronis and Cheeses.  And give me some Shrimps salad.  All I have is eighty-five cent."

So, take these with you and may they help you, brother.  Dine out and enjoy.

Thanks for joining us.

Please Come Again Soon.

Tips are appreciated.

Your Waiter,

Bill

Solo Cathedral

A little while ago I rambled on about searching for a church.  (Murk Merkh Searches For A Church) Hopefully you read it.  If you haven't, it doesn't really matter it was just a nice segue into another church post.  That is really how you spell it.  I thought it was spelled "segway", but that is the way cool people get around.

"They're all looking at me.  Just act natural.  Look straight and stay cool,  Lester.  That's it, I'm cool."

I know, I know here is where Bill gets all preachy.
No, in fact, this story isn't even about me.  This is a story about a friend of mine, who was also in the hunt for a new church.  This is a TRUE story and although I will try to do it justice I am sure that with what little ability I have I will slaughter it beyond recognition - kind of like what Daryl Hannah's surgeon did.

"If I were the King of the Forressssttt,"

Since, I will not use his real name in the story I will call him: Albin.
Albin is a single guy, not too much going for him.  I mean, sure, he is nice and has a contagious laugh, but as a whole, just a simple man.  He just goes to work and follows it up with sitting on the couch and watching sports on television.  I'm sure he eats too, he is a little hefty...I'm sorry, that's unrelated.

Well, Albin is also a church-going kinda guy.  He has never been heavily involved in any one church, but helps out when needed and doesn't mind getting his hands dirty either.  (I'm mean, like cleaning, not like dumping a body.)  But, his pastor left his church and there was a big falling out of sorts and now Albin was in a limbo of sorts.  He was in search of a church.  No easy feat.  I can attest to that.
He was looking everywhere, when he ran into an old high school friend.  Now, I wasn't there, but this is how I was told it went down:
"Albin, great to see you."
"You too.  It's been a long time."
"Sure has.  Blah, blah, blah.  details unrelated.  So, where are you going to church, Albin?"
"Actually, I'm kinda between churches right now, I'm looking around for one now."
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"Did you know that I am a pastor now, and I am starting my own church.  Why don't you come on Sunday and visit.  We meet at the elementary school."
"What time?"
"Eleven o'clock."
Albin thought for a few seconds and said, "Eleven o'clock sounds good.  I will be there."
"Don't be late," said his former buddy, now a pastor.  It had been years since he had seen this fellow and why not try it out?  So, he did.
He pulled up at just before eleven.  Out in the parking lot he was greeted by his "friend".
"Come on in," said the pastor.  "It's just down the hallway."
They went into a room with about thirty chairs and nobody else was there.  It was still before eleven.  Then the pastor said, "Albin, but do you mind I am going to go over my notes, just find a seat anywhere."  The pastor sat up front.
Albin sat in the third row.  He brought his Bible and skimmed through it, waiting for the other members to arrive.  Betcha know where this is going.
Nobody came.  Eleven o'clock came and the pastor walked to the small wooden pulpit.
"Please rise," he said.  "We will now sing our first hymn.  Turn to page 52, To God Be the Glory."
Albin looked around.  It was just the two of them.  Maybe others will join.
They sang To God Be the Glory and followed it with two more hymns.  Then he had them sit...following it up with announcements.
What follows announcements?
That's right...
"We will now pass the offering plate."
What would you do?
Because, it's official.  This dude is crazy.

Not the Pastor - Just Crazy

Albin considered this and figured the entertainment value was worth: Two dollars.
It was cheaper than some other forms of amusement.

$36.95 - For the weight.

The whole time, acting as though it was a full house.  Albin told me he started looking for cameras to see if he was being punk'd.
But, Aston Kutchner never came.
The sermon was preached and a final prayer was given and the congregation was dismissed.  Then, the pastor walked over to Albin and said, "Hopefully you can join us again."
Albin never went back, in fact, I believe he went running to his car.

Now, if it was me, I don't know what I would have done...and I don't know if I could have held it together.  It would have been too awkward for me.  Just the two of us...especially the singing part.  I didn't like being alone in the room with the Big Mouth Billy Bass.

"Take me to the river, Billy."

Hopefully this blog hasn't sent you running to your car.  Keep coming back...and feel free to LIKE us.  (C'mon, everybody's doing it.)  OUR FACEBOOK FAN PAGE - please go and Like us...I'm begging you.  PLEASE.  PLEASE.  It will make you popular.  I promise.
Have you had any good church searching stories...I would love to hear them...unless they are boring, because if they are boring, my time is very valuable.  I could be watching TV or writing this slop.  But, if it is a good story, SHARE it with us.

Reverend Bill
(not actually a reverend)

Jungle Fervor

It's Black History Month and here at the blog we are celebrating!
Why?
To recognize some great black people who might not normally get their due.  But, don't worry honkies, you'll get your turn soon.  Don't go getting your confederate flag panties in a bunch, just skip this post and listen to Ma and Pa play Dueling Banjos while you pick the straw out of your three teeth.

*May I take a quick sidebar?  Of course, I can, it's my blog.  This is for the few chuckleheads who still wave the confederate flag...I hate to break it to you, but you lost.  In fact, it was lost around 100 years before you were born.  Why are you still clinging to the losing side?  I'm not wearing my "Russia 1980 Hockey Team" sweater, my "Green Goblin Forever" hoodie, my "Michael Duakis '88" windbreaker, my Team Drago" hat, my "Cobra Commander" pants or "You Could Be Outside Instead blog 2013 tee-shirt."  What they all have in common is they are losers...and so are you.
"Psst..I've heard this Roman Empire might make a come back.  Let's be the first ones back on the bandwagon."

We want to make everyone happy. (Except the Klan, we don't really care what they think.  We enjoy Boyz  in the Hood, much more than the boys in the hoods.  Hey, that's the best I've got.  I've got a couple more, like pointed hoods make it easier to fit the dunce cap, but that's a stretch, with jokes like those the enemy wins.)

The Klan on a stroll

Black History Month has always been met with great debate, but we are not here to talk about racism or the pros and cons of Black History Month.  We are here for a few cheap giggles and because we are bored and we have nothing better to do for the next six minutes.

Now, I am not trying to be controversial or radical or whatever you want to label me, we just want to have fun. So, I thought, what better way to kick off February than to kick it off with a little soul.

We could have named all of the same black people we always talk about during Black History Month...

George Washington Carver    Rosa Parks   Booker T. Washington

George Washington Carver

But, this is a humor site, right?  Well, at least we try to be funny.  Although, we are about as funny as gynecomastia.  Okay, that is pretty funny, but we still try our best.  Hey, you get what you pay for, so stop complaining.

When I thought about what I was planning on writing for this post (yes I do think about this before I start writing) I thought maybe I would write about some great black comedians.  But, every other black history funny blog is already doing that.

Dave Chappelle   Richard Pryor    Chris Rock    Redd Foxx   Flip Wilson  Eddie Murphy

Bill Cosby   Garrett Morris   Dick Gregory   Donald Glover   Childish Gambino

Fred Sanford

But, today I would love to talk to you about a truly great American...and yes, he's black, because if he wasn't black it would make odd Black History selection.  This man is an inventor and he has made it his goal to put a weapon in every child's hands.  We would like to honor, the creator of the Super Soaker: Lonnie G. Johnson.

An Awesome Dude

Lonnie Johnson was born in 1949 in Mobile, Alabama.  Down south, ya'll.  His father was a World War II veteran, and a handyman who loved inventing.  Lonnie's dad and he created a pressurized chinaberry shooter out of bamboo shoots when he was a child.

But, Lonnie kept on inventing.  He was thirteen years old and took a lawnmower engine and scrap pieces from a junkyard and built his own go-cart.  He was racing down the highway in his pimped out lawnmower go-cart when the police pulled him over.  Good thing it wasn't the LAPD.  (I've heard some things.)

Have you ever blown up your mother's kitchen?  Lonnie did, while trying to make rocket fuel, which he got the recipe from a library book.  (* A library is a place that has books.  Books are things that are writings on paper - not a computer screen.  I know, it sounds to weird to me too.)
Anyway, He was able to use that fuel to build a mini rocket ship.  He later in life used some of these ideas when he worked as a system engineer for the Galileo and Cassini missions to Jupiter and Saturn.

Now, let's get to the important things like spraying neighborhood kids and cats with water.  Sure, using the hose is always fun, but I need it portable.  Oh yeah, the Super Soaker.  Thanks, Lonnie.
He took PVC, a Coke Bottle, and plexiglass and armed his six year old daughter with the first ever Super Soaker.  She destroyed the other kids with their weak little water guns.

And years later, and a revenue of $400 million, Lonnie can relax and kick his feet up, but he hasn't.  He still continues to invent and owns over 62 patents.  This dude is a genius.  So, no matter what race you are, you gotta respect a this guy.  Lonnie G. Johnson.

Now, go out and listen to Hendrix or James Brown and remember we are all the same on the inside.  So, if you are still a racist after reading my blog, have somebody explain this post to you, because your family tree might be a straight line, but no matter what color you are, we still love you.

~A William Merkh Joint~