Monthly Archives: October 2012

“Bad Economy, Bad! Get Down!”

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Today I stopped two purchases, simply  because the cost of the items were exorbitantly higher than I was expecting, and my paycheck was disappointingly less than I was expecting.

In one case, I was at Lowes, purchasing accessories for installing a wood stove. I expected something in the neighborhood of $125 to be the purchase price. When they were rung up the cashier asked for over $309.

“No way,” I said, and I took the parts back.

The second non-purchase occurred 30 minutes later. I went to buy a food item that used to cost 50 cents.The cashier said it was 75 cents. “Forget it,” I said.

My son said the price increases were due to QE3 (Quantitative Easing, round 3).

I don’t know about your circumstances, but I’m not interested in another four years of this nonsense.

Jerry Begly is Running for President in a Weird Way

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I entered the presidential race with this spectacular video using a lawn ornament.

My mom used to wish that I was running for President of the United States. Now I am.

I put together a crack team of powerful, elite “handlers, lawyers, marketing interns, and makeup artists,” and threw my hat into the ring. My Media Consortium from Bangladesh produced this stunning new video.

Sit back with a bowl of low fat popcorn and enjoy throwing the kernels at your computer screen. Hit the spinning wheels and score 500 points. Hit the yellow daisy and you score 1000.

The first person to score 100,000 gets to be my running mate, or Secretary of Ice Cream Parlors, whichever opening is available.

I’m Jerry Begly, and I approve of this post.

Don’t Outguess the Boss

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I learned several years ago that you shouldn’t try to outguess the boss. You will end up doing the wrong thing every now and then.

The problem is, I’m not positive what this sign means.

On the one hand, it could mean that only company employees are allowed in the basement. That would make sense, except that the sign is on the back side of the door leading down to the basement. A visitor wouldn’t see the sign unless they went down and came back up the stairs. Plus the theater is in the basement.

On the other hand, the sign could mean that employees are only allowed in the basement, and nowhere else. That would make sense, because we are supposed to use the employee break room in the basement, and we are definitely not allowed to eat our lunches in the restaurant, even when we buy them from the restaurant.

But that couldn’t hold true all of the time, because then who would operate the roller coaster or bury fossils in the sand?

I don’t know.

Until I find out what the sign means, I’m going to just keep on wearing the Groucho Marx glasses and slink around the jobsite.

Rednecks in the White House

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The other night I dreamed that the Presidential race was a tie. To break the tie Americans Twittered their votes for President. My cousin Bill decided to run for President, and due to a viral You Tube post, he ended up winning the Presidency.

Bill is a redneck.

Suddenly the White House didn’t look the same. There were pink flamingos on the lawn, car motors hanging by chains from the trees, and Secret Service agents lounging on the porches of the White House on couches with cigarette holes all over them. (The couches had cigarette holes all over them, not the Secret Service guys.)

At Kennebunkport, everyone was riding 4 wheelers, and bass tournaments became the national pastime. Legislation was introduced into Congress to allow tree stands into the National Parks, and Air force One was emblazoned with a huge NASCAR sticker that was starting to peel off.

The bullet-proof limo that the President rides in had rust holes that had been duct taped over and spray painted black. The car also had a 50 caliber “Ma Duce” mounted on it, and the rear bumper was covered with NRA stickers.

The President’s dog was a coon hound.

The Tidal Pool had jet skis going back and forth.

And the Foreign Policy of the Administration included having Navy Seals sneak into Tehran and paint a giant red and white bulls-eye over the President’s palace.

What a dream. I think I’ll turn off Fox News for a while.

My Denver Book Signing

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At the Mountains and Plains Book Expo, I took part in the Authors Signing Night. It was a treat being in the same room with 75 other authors, autographing copies of my book “Dad, The Tooth Fairy Didn’t Come!”

Most of the authors were very kind, and I even came out with a button which read, “I AM NOT A SERIAL KILLER.”

The biggest surprise to me was to find out that the pen of choice for signing is not some expensive custom ballpoint, but rather a permanent black Sharpie. The reason is that it make a very bold statement. Nearly everyone uses them.

So much for the diamond encrusted calligraphy pen with the magnesium thumb grip that I had my eye on for when I make it to the big time.