Sorry about being so long between posts all. I haven't given up on trying to bring a few tears of joy to the masses of the "little people" as I so often call so many of you in places where you can't hear me.

It's just that this is the apex of my business year. This weekend was the start of this year's Kansas City Renaissance Faire and for the next seven weekends, thousands of people will be passing by my booth there. It seems like a good idea in a general sort of way to have some things on the shelves to cause them to pause, perform that internal monologue that brings a small skip of joy to your average vendor, and come in and exchange some of their rent money for one of my wooden beer cups.

So I have been putting in 16 hour days for the last three weeks. And it's beginning to tell on me.

By itself, The KC Ren Faire wouldn't stop me from writing. But on September 10th, I will hit the road at 4AM for a nine hour drive to Oregon, where I will continue, as I have for the last 13 years, to fool a large number of people into thinking I am in charge of the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire.

Although the SRF only runs a single weekend, I need to be there on the Wednesday before because there simply aren't enough hours in a weekend to drink all the beer needed to run a Faire.

So please forgive me if I'm a bit sparse in writing for the next couple of weeks. Fortunately, I have managed to secure the services of several notable humor bloggers to guest blog for me while I'm away for the few days before and after the weekend of September 13th and 14th.

Meanwhile, the race for the Presidency will go on. I am still working on my VP choice. You may rest assured that whoever I chose will be the kind of person who will make my assassination undesirable.

Good evening America, this is Harvey Tippleflipper with the HBC Network bringing you all the pageantry of the PU Presidential Convention.

And I'm Buzz Haberdasher. It's a beautiful day here in Fewmit as the delegate(s) arrive for the convention. Harv, what's planned for the opening ceremony?

Well Buzz, We are here at the beautifully restored Fewmit grain silo and convention center where minutes ago, the convention was officially gaveled open.



It only took three whacks to force the door. Now delegate(s) from all over the County are pouring in to watch the colorful opening ceremony before the main event - the roll call vote to nominate Don Lewis as the official PU party Presidential Candidate.

That's right Buzz. The convention stated off with the traditional faith-based demonstration. Gospel tunes were sung by the Flaming Sisters of St. Castrado. A local favorite.



No kidding Harv. When these nuns hit those high notes, it sends a shiver right through my coccyx.

As well it should Buzz. The gay music was followed by an invocation from the PU parties official chaplain, Doctor Highly Solastic.




Let's talk a bit about the convention center Harv. Security is much tighter than at previous conventions isn't it?

Too true Buzz. If you recall, during the last convention delegates were subjected to massive short-sheeting, terror-wedgies and cotton weevils. But with new check-in procedures,



and the latest in high tech security wrist bands,



the PU Party Officials believe these problems of the past can be minimized.

So Harv. What's on today's agenda?

Buzz, Originally we were going to get a Key-Note speech by the candidates' wife, Mrs. Lewis. But at the last moment, she slipped out of her security band. So The Candidate himself will be taking the podium.



Well, that's all for now. Tomorrow, we will be taking an in-depth look at the potential running mates for Candidate Lewis, prior to Friday's announcement and the roll call vote.

This has been Buzz Haberdasher and Harvey Tippleflipper for HBC at the PU Party Convention. Now back to the studio.

Today we get the news that Madonna, the 50 year old virgin, is hitting the road again in a world tour. Apparently the Big Foot discovery turned out to be a hoax and when that exhibition fell through, she saw an opportunity.

Demonstrating the usual concern for the environment shown by all the big green headliners, she will be jetting all over the world hauling 16 dancers, 3500 separate changes of clothing and her own freezers to supply ice for her poor dancer's feet.

I don't plan to say much more than this but I did want to make note of something.

They say that the human sense with the strongest ability to trigger old memories is smell.

Since I've never had the chance to smell Madonna, that would do me no good in this case. (But I am grateful.) However, the following photo took me right back to my high school days.




And brought back to mind my old biology classes.





Have a great rest of the weekend all.

It seems recently that the presidential race has taken a turn towards the negative. I find this sad. We, the major candidates,

Republican, Democrat, and Plaid,

have a responsibility to honestly present our positions in the spirit of what is in the best interest of the Nation rather than out own petty desires for power.

Regardless of what my opponents do, I pledge to you, my faithful followers (seven now and growing like a weed!) that I will always take the high road. The name calling and character assassinations performed by the other candidates:




Will never be a part of my run for the highest office in the land.




Don't forget to swing on by:

For more high minded writings of great import.

A Grateful Nation thanks you.

I'm going free-style blogging tonight. This is incredibly dangerous and should not be attempted by anyone not wholly experienced in blogging nor without at least five beers under their belt. Both of which attributes I now possess. (Thank God for spell checkers.)

My kids met a wonderful bunch of kids down at Hayden State Park (About a mile or so from my place.) on Lake Coeur d' Alene yesterday and their parents invited us to come and spend the evening at their campsite.

Fortunately, they had a ready supply of beer.

So I am now at home, and I decided in a moment of weakness to actually write a blog directly into blogger without paying the slightest attention to what I am saying.

Hope this works. If I close one eye, I no longer see double.

First off, I have received yet another award.

Crochety Old Man Yells At Cars has given me the coveted




For those of you who are actually paying attention, you might have noticed that not only have I already received this award before, (acknowledged in the last post) but that I was give this signal honor by....

Crochety Old Man Yells At Cars

Which to me is a sure indication that we need to end Medicare immediately.

(How'm I doing so far? Pretty amazing considering that I keep forgetting where the space key is huh?)

I have further decided to end this post with a bunch of random photos that will give you a glimpse into my life.

This may take a while as it requires me to figure out anew how to upload pictures. So now would be an excellent time to visit:



Where ChelleB, in a moment of (I assure you and my wife) unrequited desire, has decided to attempt to seduce me by making me an administrator.

Despite her poor skills in choosing competent managerial personnel, this is THE place to find the best in internet comedy. (She at least had the sense to limit my participation to serving drinks and being the resident male eye-candy.)

Now, on with the random pictures.

Subscribe in a reader

Alright! I'm finally getting back to normal.

I still tend to black out occasionally, but only when I exert myself, like now when I have to push down on these keys.............................................and I remain numb up to the arm pits. It's good to be back at 100 percent.

Also, sorry to everyone for my lack of commentary responses. The cold seemed to have caused a temporary tourette syndrome and I couldn't take a chance.

Today I would like to catch up on a little blog-keeping. I have received a couple of awards that I really ought to acknowledge since they were given to me by a couple of my favorite humor bloggers. So in order of my previously ignoring them, I will begin with:

Crochety Old Man Yells At Cars who in a senior moment, presented me with the fabulous Amy Opps Award for something or another. The award itself comes from Amy Opps. After an exhaustive 30 second search of her site, I still can find nothing that tells me what the award is truly about. It could be blog color coordination or possibly creative punctuation.

Nevertheless, I accept with all the humbleness of which I am capable.



COMYAC, which as an acronym would be a great stock market listing for one of those sub-prime mortgage lenders now in receivership, describes himself (which is fortunate because I feel another tourette episode coming on) as:

"I'm a crotchety old guy who enjoys ranting and raving about the injustices of the world. While many of my rants are political in nature, I can complain about almost anything. If I were a cartoon character, I'd be Grandpa Simpson or an elderly Eric Cartman."


But don't let that bit of prose fool you. He is usually quite funny.

(Serous note: COMYAC is very funny and a regular part of my humor blog daily reading. I recommend him highly.)

I believe I am supposed to pass this along to 5 other bloggers. Since I remain unsure of its meaning, I'll just spread the love to some of my favorites.

The Predator Press, because so far as I know, LOBO doesn't have one of these, and I love to ratchet up his paranoia by being nice to him for no reason.

Deb on the Rocks because I have a serious crush on her. And we share so many interests. Or at least one.

Atlas Shrugged (AKA Traci Skene) because I have a serious crush on her too.

Naked in Eden (AKA Rain Forest Robin) because I also have a serious crush on her.

The Offended Blogger because she scares me. (Which is often more exciting than a crush.)

I also received an award from the inimitable Lord Likely. His Lordship has been so kind as to present me with his:




With his Lordships gracious, and no doubt sardonic permission, this rude and puritanical colonial has modified his Lordships' award for display on my less adult oriented blog.

For those who wish to see Lord Likelys' Golden Cock in all its original glory, you may go here. Just a bit of warning though. Lord Likely's blog is incredibly funny and full of adventure. It is however not for the faint of heart or for those who consider Jane Austin to be a bit too "racy". So it this describes you, I know you won't click the above.

I'll just wait here shall I?

(Hmm ha hmm, ta da dee da....)

Oh yes, one final thing. I'm getting a bit of a jump on it, as the official opening isn't till August 15th, but why wait?

I have been selected as a member of the newest and most exclusive listing of funny bloggers on the internet!



This fully functional collection of great blog humorists is the creation of ChelleB of The Offended Blogger fame. She has hand-selected 50 of the best humor bloggers for her new site.

(Originally, it was just going to be her and I. The poor girl is rather smitten with me. Apparently she came across a picture taken of me for a woman's magazine a few years ago.)



But I pleaded with her to include a few others, and well...she's putty in my hands.

SO be sure to check it out. It's a great way to tickle your funny bones.

Finally.

As many of you no doubt recall fondly, I used to beg and whine you to tap on the humor-blogs.com button to keep my standing up there. However, with the new system, only members can now vote for a blog, so unless you were to join, it would do you no good. (Or me either.)

So instead, I'm going to cast what little remaining self-respect I have to the winds and instead ask you to click on the conveniently located feedburner buttons and add me to your feed.

Subscribe in a reader

As an inducement, if you do so, I will gladly send you an autographed copy of the picture above.

If you decide not to do so, I will, in retaliation, send you an autographed copy of the picture above.

Choose wisely.

Now that I am the leading northern Idaho Candidate for the Presidency, it is incumbent upon me to speak out about the failings of other national leaders. (I don't know if its required per se, but it beats having to define my positions.)

So today, despite the ravages of the cold from hell and a lung-coating crust of effluence that makes my breathing sound like a bong in need of a water change, I find it necessary to bring up the shameful behavior of John Edwards.

As you are all no doubt aware, John Edwards, the ex-Senator from North Carolina has recently admitted to an extra-marital affair with Rielle Hunter.



Putting aside for the moment the damage done to his family, it is of even greater importance to recognize his failings with regards to the larger picture of American Security and our standing on the World stage:

If this was an isolated incident, it would be bad enough. But it isn't. Time and again we are forced to accept the ridicule and scorn of other nations as a result of the poor choices made by so many of the high and mighty who lead our Country.

The list is, unfortunately, extensive:












and recently




And the list goes on and on.

Our elected leaders, selected to be "The Best and Brightest" of us all; those whom we chose to make life and death decisions; continue to let us down. Almost without exception we see them showing the same poor judgment, the same lack of common sense that results in the other Nations of the earth looking upon us with disdain.

And the same question arises each time in the minds of every right thinking American!

Can't one of these guys hook up with a babe???!!!

For crying out loud! You guys are supposed to be the leaders of the Free World! You don't even have to buy your own gas! But you keep on "playing house" with women who should be the natural recipients of State Dinner doggie bags!

Geez! Some of you even have wives who are better looking than you mistresses.

This is incredibly embarrassing. OK. I'll admit that we're not talking star-quality good looks for a lot of these guys. Yes, McCain looks like a Toltec head and Bill Clinton is the Pillsbury Dough Boy from Hope. And Gingrich could double for the gopher from "Caddy Shack".

But Henry Kissinger looked like Peter Sellers on a cortisone high and still managed to trip the light fantastic with Candice Bergen, Samantha Eggar and Jill St. John. And he did all that while sounding like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a Darth Vader mask!

Limos; fact-finding junkets; rides in Air Force One: the nuclear football for Gods sake! And the best you can do is a hook-up that looks like a chance meeting at Weight Watchers?

No more.

It's time we Americans insist that our leaders "liaison" with women we can at least lust after ourselves.

That is why, when you elect me as you President, I firmly commit to dalliance only with women who at a minimum would be acceptable on the Playboy "Women Next Door" website. I further pledge that all White House interns will have. at the very least. a belly button piercing and a title with the words "oil-wrestling" somewhere in it.



I think too much of you, the American public, to do any less.

I've still got this cold.

I got it from my kids, who got it from their friends next door, who apparently got it from their friends, who are friends of my kids, who gave it to them. Thus we see the Great Wheel of Life. Or as the famous Persian Poet, Omar…uh...Sharif, put it, "The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, should be washed, because honest to God! Who knows where that finger has been???"

My head cold isn't one of those Blue State, quiche-eating, metro-sexual colds. This is a Real Man's Virus. A GI Germ. It's still in my head at the moment, digging trenches, stringing barbed wire, air-dropping surrender demands to my lungs, but the push south is eminent. My immune system is responding to the threat much like our own State Department, writing stiff notes of protest and offering to cede the larynx, bronchial tubes, and three lymph nodes to be determined later in exchange for a cession of hostilities. But I suspect that the invaders want the whole enchilada. (And they're welcome to it. Everything tastes like cardboard at the moment anyway.)

Naturally, being a guy, I will postpone taking any medication until parts start dropping off. And even then I'll first give serious consideration to super glue. I'm probably worse than most guys, though. I do not do well on cold medications.

I once went to an outdoor living history event, took two Sudafeds, had a beer, and woke up three days later in a committed relationship with an entire clan of Scottish bagpipers. (I broke it off, but we still exchange cards.) But when the little Irish-Jamaican guy in my head starts to play "Danny Boy" on the oil drum tympani behind my left eye, I start to weaken on my resolve to "Just Say No."

So I really need to feel bad before I start popping pills, using sprays, or swallowing (shudder) any of that "bubble gum" flavored syrup. And what's with the medicine labels these days? Now, I realize and completely accept that I'm getting ol..., uh, becoming more matu...that the time (a completely artificial construct of the limited human mind) between the date of my birth and today has increased. But really, why bother writing all those warnings, side effect notices, and expiration dates on the side of the box anymore? The print is so small you could emboss it on each pill and still have room for a little light reading before ingesting.

[Side Note: The increasing temporal disparity between my natal day and the present was brought forcefully to my attention by the arrival a few days ago of a letter from those sadists at the AARP. “Fifty percent off all cremation services when you join the American Association of Retired Persons!" or something like that. I would have called their 800 number to have them stop bothering me, but I couldn't find my reading glasses.]

Now where was I? Seems like I lose track of things more often now then I used to. Darn colds. Oh yeah, medicine. The side of this box of cough medicine (near as I can tell by holding the box on the end of a ruler at arm’s length) says...well it says a lot of things, most of them meaningless and not a few of them frightening. This happens to be a box of children's cough medicine that states "Do not drive car or operate heavy machinery." Words to live by, I tell my ten and twelve year old kids.

Another box of adult cold medicine that I was seriously contemplating opening (as the little man in my head with the drum has switched from "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" to "Wipe Out") says, with regards to the dangers of accidental overdose, "Quick medical attention is needed for adults as well as children, even if you don't notice any signs or symptoms." ....? That's it. I'm moving in with my doctor until I'm over this thing.

Anyway, that’s all I got for the moment. It’s time to stop writing and go lay down. Besides, the "Moby Dick" drum solo from Led Zeppelin is about to play and I'd hate to miss it.

Hope you're all well,

Don

(My apologies, but the massive head cold I am now selflessly sharing with my family and friends means that I am unable to generate anything more original than phlegm. So I am reposting a piece I posted back when I had only two readers (About a month ago.) )

I liked it. Hope you do too.

I'll get better soon. (That's health -wise, not with regards to humor. I think I've pretty much topped out there.)

Cheers,

Don




Once again we see the fruits of applied technology without moral guidance. South Korean Scientists have succeeded in cloning cats; which seems kind of pointless to me, because if you put any two random cats together, seemingly regardless of their sex, you soon have dozens of the tiny fur balls that then have to be hauled off in a big cardboard box by my kids to the grocery store to be given away.




If that was all there was to the story, we could all just have a laugh at tremendous expense and effort that was put into this procedure, because my neighborhood alone could have supplied their feline requirements for years. But these scientists weren't just satisfied with mass-produced Muffys; they had to make cats that glow in the dark. (When will the madness end?)

Naturally, the Korean Ministry of Science and Technology tried to make the whole thing sound noble and selfless.

"The ability to produce cloned cats with the manipulated genes is significant as it could be used for developing treatments for genetic diseases and for reproducing model (cloned) animals suffering from the same diseases as humans." said a statement from the Ministry.

But trust me, this whole idea really came about because in some planning or budget meeting, the bio-nerds operating the cloning facility were yakking over kimshee and tea, and one of them said, "Ok, so we can maybe clone cats, big deal. But what if we can clone cats that glow in the dark! Gentlemen, its just possible that if we can make this work, we might be able to find women who will have sex with us!"

Preposterous you say? Selfless Workers in the Fields of Science, high tech soldiers in the battle against human suffering, concerned primarily with getting lucky? Well, without giving too much away, I used to attend those meetings. We had donuts and high sugar sodas but the principles were the same. (Just to set the record straight, I was the only naturally 'hot' one at those meetings. You could cut the Envy with a knife.)

In case you haven't realized it yet, the entire history of technological progress, the very Science Train of Discovery, has been staffed and driven by the types of guys who couldn't get a date for Saturday night with a tranquilizer gun. (Probably shouldn't have mentioned that. Right now some lab assistant out there is leaning back in his chair and thinking "Tranquilizer gun???...Of Course!) Now, not all scientists are loser's in love's lottery. You had to have a few of us around to look good for the press release photos. (And plaid, worn by the right kind of man, is honey to the bees.) But it can't be denied, that if sex is the greatest driving force for the average man, think how much greater the pressure must be on men of towering intellect, imagination, and the physical appeal of cotton swabs.

So where is this all going you ask?

Its time for an appeal to all you women out there. Radioactive kittens are one thing, but if these scientists ever get the idea that the creation of giant rabbits or mutant cucumbers is the key to a woman's heart, well there'll be no stopping them. As I said in the beginning of this wandering diatribe, moral guidance is needed, and women since the dawn of time, have provided that guidance for men. (plus clean shirts and bail money)

So I to propose to you, the women of our Great Nation, that you need take these scientists in hand (so to speak) and use your wiles to convince the hormone driven fiends in lab coats and pocket protectors that mutating little white mice just doesn't turn you on, whereas the development of a fat free chocolate or never run nylon just might mean an invitation to your place to install a new hard drive in your computer. It's "Take a Dweeb to Dinner" month ladies and a grateful Nation will thank you.

-------

:>

And now.





Whappa Whappa Whappa Wap, Whappa Whappa Whappa Wap...

"Yeah..."

Dum shee Dum. Dum shee dump

"Now listen up..."

Whappa Wap, Whappa Wap

"I gotta make this quick 'cause I gotta cut the hay."

Dump shee dump, dump dump she dump

"And this Idaho cracka hasn't givin' me my pay."

Dump shee dump, dump dump shee dump


So now I'm sittin' here with my bitch and my hoes'




"How This Guy be president, nobody knows."

Whappa Whappa Whappa Whap, Whappa Whappa Whappa Whap!

"Nobody knows."

"I'll never get a record deal workin' for this clown.

His ideas, don' please us, belong unda'ground.

Paint the White House plaid an' dress like a bunny.

Give the bomb to LOBO just 'cause he thinks it's funny."



"So listen here you peeps,

Its time you ought to fear,

Cause yo' other choices suck

And Don Lewis is here"

Thumpity Thumpity Thump


"That's right..

That's right..

Don Lewis is Here."


Well that was refreshing.
Have a good weekend all.



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This is not a test.




Free chat widget @ ShoutMix

OK. Stop it right there.

I have no interest in listening to your problems right now.

Sure you got troubles.

War, Famine, Pestilence, Poverty.

But believe me, none of that can hold a candle to my woes of the moment.

These are my daughters.




Abi is twelve going on thirteen this December and Eli is ten. Beautiful aren't they?

As many of you know, I live in northern Idaho. We're reasonably far out. We do have a few neighbors, but it's a mile and a half drive on a dirt road just to get out to the two lane that leads from Plummer to St. Maries. So my daughters are very country, going for long hikes in the woods, building forts and hideaways by the pond or down in the canyons.

See this?



This is a picture of my nearest neighbor's place. They live immediately to my south. Very nice folks. Helpful, kind, and generous, give you the shirt off their backs.

I'm sure going to regret the necessity of wiping their off-spring out. It's bound to upset the neighborly relations we share.

I don't want to do it of course, but I find my options are shrinking. I'm certain you will understand why this must be done when I tell you that my neighbors children are all boys.



Until recently, I actually figured that I could find a way to live with this problem. Chastity belts; maybe forced sterilization (I figured to do it by inviting the lads on a hunting trip.)

See this?



This is a picture of my other nearest neighbor's place. They live immediately to the north of me. A lovely elderly couple. Also kind and generous. We get together for a big party every Christmas.

They're moving.

They decided that with advancing age they needed to move closer to family. Perfectly understandable.

So they've sold their home to a very nice young couple.

With children.

Boys.




Here's an aerial picture of the situation.



So, unless I can come up with something else, I'm going to have to skag the whole lot.



Now northern Idaho is no longer the wild and woolly west that most people imagine it to be. The days of just perfunctorily wiping out young males who happen to make the fatal error of looking at (or thinking of) your daughters is gone.

No, you can no longer get off scot-free for adolescentcide. I imagine I'll be facing a hefty fine and possibly even a sentence of community service.

So before I go out and spend a whole lot of money for ammunition, I wish to appeal to you, my readers.

Any other suggestions?


Please feel free to vote for me at humor-blogs.com. Thanks



:>

Today, continuing to pretend to make good on my promises, I bring you news that other more political correct and lily-livered news sources refuse to do.

I'm referring to yet another terror attack on an American Official by religious extremists who have perverted a Doctrine of Peace into a monstrous sham of mayhem and destruction.

Yes, I'm talking about Radical Voodooism.

A report has surfaced from Deltona Florida about a "menacing" voodoo doll left on the property of City Commissioner Zenaida Denizac. In the time honored tradition of such things, a photo of the Commissioner's head was taped to the doll which also sported several nasty pins.



Naturally, like all rational humans, the commissioner, recognizing this as a childish stunt no doubt the result of Uber-beer consumption on the part of some local teens, picked up the doll and made a three point hook shot into the nearest voodoo refuse receptacle.

Fortunately for this reporter: not.

"I feel totally violated...." Denizac said.

As a result of this violation, the Volusia County Sheriff has increased its presence outside of all city commissioners' homes to insure their safety. Sheriff deputies are even dumpster diving into the commissioners' trash cans to root out any other metaphysical attack Barbies.

And they said "It couldn't happen here".

(Personal note: What a lousy voodoo doll! Pride in work seems to be gone these days. I recognize that there are probably lots of different artistic styles out there, but really. If I was making a voodoo doll, it would be a lot more identifiable.)




Yes, legions of voodoo practitioners and their walking dead suicide stumblers, the zombies, are wreaking havoc across our great Nation.

Now some of you bleeding-heart appeasers will no doubt accuse me of "Zomfear". (Not to be confused with the internationally known "Master of the Pan pipe" so frequently seen on late night UHF stations.) but in this you would be wrong.

I recognize that the majority of zombies are simply hard-working, decent, family oriented ambulatory inanimates who are simply trying to get on with lifelessness.



No, I refer to the sizable minority who have perverted voodooism and are now engaged in a unholy war against the deceased-deficient. And the problem, of course, is telling the good zombie from the bad.



The sum of the parts do not make the whole, as it were.

But a fair portion of the problem must be laid at the feet (or stubs as the case may be) of the majority moderate zombie population who still refuse to speak out against the more radical members (Although missing tongues and jaws may also play a part in this failure.)

So what can we do?

Vigilance is the key.

Any out of the ordinary walking dead activity should be reported to the authorities immediately.

But it is equally important that we do not paint all Zombie-Americans with the same brush. Zombies have been discriminated against for far too long. Many of them simply need a hand.


Care to give me a hand? Then head over to check out these other funny blogs, and give me a vote of confidence while you're there. Thanks!






:>

Candidate Accused of Cereal Offenses with Exotic Dancer.
-Plummer Plain Talker







"I Did Not Have Trix with that Woman, Ms Lobowsky!" Claims Lewis
-Coeur d' Alene Buttinski-Review



Carrot Juice DNA Found on Dancer's Blue Dress.
-Rabbit-fanciers Weekly



Candidate to Address Nation on Cony Conundrum
-AP





`` Good day.

This afternoon in this room, from this chair, I testified before a committee made up of my wife, and her three very large brothers, and a heirloom polish meat grinder and sausage stuffer.

I answered their questions truthfully, questions no American male would ever want to answer unless forced to make a choice between coarse and fine grind.

Still, I must take complete responsibility for all my actions, both public and private. (Such as they are known.) And that is why I am speaking to you now.

Indeed, I did have a relationship with Miss Lobowsky that was not appropriate. In fact, it was wrong. I am solely and completely responsible. The shameless home-wreaking tramp!

I know that my public comments and my silence about this matter gave a false impression. And I deeply regret that you didn't retain that initial belief.

I can only tell you I was motivated by many factors. First, by a desire to protect myself, my family, and the good folks down at the High O' Silver Gentlemen's Club from the embarrassment of my own conduct.

In addition, I had real and serious health concerns about an independent investigation being conducted by my Father-in-Law, Mike "The Kielbasa" Moore.

This independent investigation had moved on to my friends and novelty costume suppliers, then into my private life.


This has gone on too long, cost too much and hurt too many innocent people (I for instance have received over 30 minutes of near-debilitating dutch-rubs from my brother-in law Greg "The Electrician" Moore.)


Now, this matter is between me, the three people I love most -- my wife and our daughters.




I must put it right, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to do so as long as it works for me sympathy-wise and at the polls.

Nothing is more important to me personally. But it is private, and I intend to reclaim my family life for my family. It's nobody's business but ours until such time as I write my autobiography. ("I Was a Rabbit of the FBI" $24.95 Pre-order now!)

It is time to stop the pursuit of personal destruction and the prying into back-room lap dance facilities and get on with our national life. Our country has been distracted by this matter for too long, and I take my (extremely limited in a legal and litigatory sense) responsibility for my part in all of this.


That is all I can do.

Now it is time -- in fact, it is past time to move on -- in fact, let's just forget it ever happened. I think that's for the best. Don't you?

We have important work to do -- real opportunities to seize, real problems to solve, real security matters to face. Real relatives to avoid.

And so tonight, I ask you to turn away from the spectacle of the past 30 minutes, to repair the fabric of our national discourse, and to return our attention to all the challenges and all the promise of the next American century.

Thank you for watching. ''



There. That's done. Actually a bother really, but tradition must be served. Now we can go on to other, more important campaign stuff, like false and misleading commercials about my opponents fabricated failings.




Please... Please...

Show the World that you forgive me and want to keep our shared desire for real and meaningful spare change strong by clicking here at humor-blogs.com. If not for me...Then for the children.

I've been reading and seeing a lot of political stuff recently. Mostly its been about Senator Barack Obama. And that's mostly because practically every US reporter, news anchor, and commentator is currently hanging from Obama's torso like leaches in a jungle movie. It's like some kind of National Lampoon Mid-East Vacation with him at the moment.

Heaven help us if a news story should break here. We'll end up with someone from marketing on the evening news.

And no matter the denials, it is obvious that the main-stream media does have a wee bit of a bias towards Obama over that other guy (name escapes me at the moment.)

So today, I would like to take the opportunity to bring to the American People an honest, and non-partisan comparison of the two most prominent candidates for the Presidency of the United States:




And





We'll begin with the men themselves.

Barack Obama

Barack Obama is a powerful and larger than life individual. Born in the slums of Hawaii, he rose above this humble birth to become the presumptive presidential candidate of the Democrat Party. Called "Messiah-like" even by his detractors, Senator Obama strenuously denies a Son of God status, although he does seem to hint at being a close relative.




Certainly his omniscient predictions of third and forth terms in the Oval Office would seem to suggest a relationship with the Alpha and Omega, and Obama has repeatedly demonstrated a miraculous ability to lay to rest the demons of his previously strongly held opinions.



"Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek."

Masterfully prepared by years as a community organizer in the lower south-southwest side of Chicago as well as nearly a year and a half in the US Senate, Obama is obviously qualified to become the Leader of the most powerful Nation on Earth on the basis of...of...actually, I'm unable to answer that question because its one of those subjects that we are not allowed to discuss.





Hobbies:







George B..Uh John McCain

An old-ish fellow. Spent some time in prison. Married to an alcohol supplier.

Quote: "I will conduct a respectful debate. Now, it will be dispirited -- it will be spirited -- because there are stark differences. I am a proud conservative, liberal Republica-- conservative Republican...Hello? Easy there."



Hobbies:





Obama on the Issues:

"Issues are never simple. One thing I'm proud of is that very rarely will you hear me simplify the issues."


McCain on the issues:

"F**k you! I know more about this than anyone else in the room."


Obama on threats to America:

"When we think of the major threats to our national security, the first to come to mind are nuclear proliferation, rogue states and global terrorism. But another kind of threat lurks beyond our shores, one from nature, not humans - an avian flu pandemic."


McCain on Threats:

"Only an a**hole would put together a budget like this ... I wouldn't call you an a**hole unless you really were an a**hole."


So...


What was the point of all this?


Simply a reminder.






And don't forget, a vote for me is a vote for change. And hope. Change and hope. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the votes that we seek. humor-blogs.com





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It's a housework day here at the blog. I just got off work for the day at a little after 9PM. Patrice leaves for the Portland Brew Festival with 300 wooden tankards on Wednesday. And I've only got 200 of them finished.

This is the beginning of my busy season. Depressing, but the next few months bring in most of my yearly income. Equally depressing is the fact that Patrice gets to go to the beer festival and I have to stay home. But that's for the best. Sending me to a Beer fair is like sending Jack to sell the family cow; and at least he brought home some beans.

Today on the shop radio, I heard a commentator say that the current Congress is "Spending money like a drunken sailor on Shore leave." This particular saying really pisses me off. Having some experience in my younger years as a drunken sailor, I note two major differences. One, at least I was spending my own money; and two, the next day I was back at work defending my Country.


New Awards!

Sorry for the delay in getting to these, I'm sure I appeared ungrateful, but I had my Presidential announcement and the Idaho thing already lined up.

Oh yeah, and as far as the "Oh Idaho" post goes, a couple of my commenting visitors seem to think that the fellow holding the big gun at the beginning of the piece is me.



While it is true that I could stand to lose a few pounds, that fellow in the picture is twice the man I am, both in girth and strength. I'd need a half-track to haul that baby around. (The gun...well I suppose the guy too.)


Anyway off to the awards.



I received the coveted Arte y Pico award from Chat Blanc at Wit's Bitch

Wit's Bitch is a delightfully funny blog and I highly recommend it. on the basis of her taste in award designates if for no other reason. (Go there, you will read the other reasons.)

If I understand it correctly, the Arte y Pico award (Which sounds like an TexMex entree at the El Cuspidor Mexican restaurant and looks quite like a radiator cap off a 1938 Studebaker.) is given to : someone, who in the opinion of the presenter deserves this award on the basis of: creativity, design, interesting material, and also contributes to the blogger community, no matter the language.

Upon receipt the awardee is to post the following:

1) You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award, creativity, design, interesting material, and also contributes to the blogger community, no matter the language.

2) Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.

3) Each award-winner, has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her or him the award itself.

4) Award-winners and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of “Arte y pico” blog, so everyone will know the origin of this award.

5) To show these rules.

Chat Blanc had the following to say about my blog:

"It’s a funny thing
This is a snort-worthy-funny, unique and awesomely blunt blog. Don, the self-proclaimed International Man of Mystery is a one-of-a-kind cool character. (I'm sure this isn’t the first time he’s gotten this award, but his site is missing the graphic for the award given by DrowseyMonkey so I’m hoping to help him fill out his awards trophy case)"

In point of fact, and I know this will come to a surprise to all of those who've seen my vast array of awards to the right, but no, in fact, I've have not received this particular award before. Which makes it all the more special. The missing award from DM is for the Good Buzz. (It had a happy bee on it, that's all I remember. Apparently, the original host went out of business.)

OK. Giving it to five other blogs:

The Predator Press.

To my traveling mate and blogging buddy LOBO, because I am always sure, absolutely sure, to get a laugh every time he posts. He may not be in touch with any firm and unyielding reality, but at least whichever dimension he's in, it's a funny one.

The Wheel is Turning, but the Hamster is Dead

Sy is much like the English version of LOBO and so, like LOBO, should be restricted to blunt scissors. But he also has a funny blog (Even though the accent is hard to understand.) I recommend him highly.


Just a Girl in short shorts talking about whatever

Is anything but. Becky C has a brilliant mind (and actually does look pretty good in short shorts) which dissects the political and sociological insanity of the World with CAT-Scan thin finesse. Plus she does it with girly pictures, so it covers two of my hobbies. But if you don't care to indulge your prurient interests, turn off the graphics and read. She's a tough one to argue with. Unless you've no interest in the truth.

Dead Rooster

I've mentioned William at Dead Rooster before. At that time I said that he was a threat to the limited humor-blogging customer pool and I intended to find some way to stop him. So far, he's resisted every effort and only gotten bigger and funnier. Now I'm down to giving him awards in the vain hope that a closer association with me will prove his undoing.

Naked In Eden Blog - Robin Easton

Get your mind out of the gutter. It's crowding me. No, you won't find any girly pics here. Robin Easton is an amazing soul and a true environmentalist; meaning NOT someone who enjoys the "environment" from within the dubious safety of an asphalt jungle, but someone who lives, loves, and breathes the wild. And is willing to roll around in it a bit too, despite the cleaning bill. Her blog is a breath of fresh air. Literally.





My next award is from...I think I'll save the next one for a day or two. I'm falling asleep in the chair. See you all tomorrow or so49krpl;.f...dang.

Please, if you would be so kind click here and vote for me at humor-blogs.com If you find that you can't, because you aren't a member...well you can join. And then vote for me. Thanks again.




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Many people have the wrong idea about people who chose to make their home in Northern Idaho.



Narrow-minded gun-toting zealots; chlorinated gene pool Deliverance extras; bouffant-haired, spike-pant, turbo-blonds with hyphenated first names like Lulu-Bell or Bobbi-Sue; and jug-eared, barefoot, tow-headed kids who need to take Ritalin just to speed up.

Most people don't believe it's like that anymore.

Fortunately, as election after election demonstrates, most people are wrong.

Northern Idaho remains today the bastion of Real Men. A place where a man is still judged by the firmness of his handshake, the value of his word, and his artistic display of car parts in the front yard.

It's a place where a belch is still a compliment to the cook, bless her heart; and where a good personal-area scratch can do more for your self-esteem than a month of sessions with Doctor Phil.

But before you start thinking that the Idaho men are some kind of Neolithic throw-backs to the days of the patriarchal subjugation of women, I'm here to tell you that those days are gone forever.

Sigh.

Nowadays, women are considered every bit the near-equals of men. And Idaho women hold a place of high esteem in a Real Idahoan Man's heart.




We men of Idaho were some of the very first to support womens' suffrage. And it was a proud day in Idaho when our women, for the very first time, won the right to exercise their franchise. Now, when I tell my wife who to vote for, it doubles my electoral clout!

And we love our wives. After a hard day of cleaning, doing the laundry, cooking, teaching the kids in our home school, gutting my fish, and bringing me a cold one after a rough day on the lake, I always remember to give her a big hug and kiss before she heads off to the gas station mini-mart for her swing shift. Sometimes I even do the evening dishes.

(Let's just keep that between you and me, OK?)

The most important thing to remember is to never take your wife for granted. You need to pamper her and thereby remind her of her good fortune in being married to you.

And it's the little things that count. Like, when taking your sweetie out for a night on the town, actually getting out of the truck and going inside rather than simply rolling down the window and ordering. Or taking the time to fetch your own beer from the fridge at half-time; assuming of course that it's during one of those ads for male incontinence.

And Idaho is also all about family and community. Being the father of two daughters, you might think that I would be incredibly bitter and depressed about my wife's abject failure to provide me with a male heir. But nothing could be farther from the truth. I'm sure she did her best. And having only daughters is nothing to be ashamed of, no matter what they say down at the bowling alley.

True, the atmospheric estrogen levels in my house can get dangerously high, especially in the winter. And at times like this, for my own safety, other temporary living arrangements must be made:




But on the whole, my daughters are treated with all the love and respect they would deserve if they were boys. Even in matters of their education; all the mathematics necessary to figure out gestation periods and a strong emphasis on reading, especially regarding recipes and sewing instructions.

Daughters play an important role in your average Idaho community. For example, one of my neighbors has a twenty year old son who is building a successful career in scrap metal collection. Marriage negotiations concerning my eldest daughter are already well underway. Naturally, any union will have to wait a few years, at least until she's old enough for the learner's permit she'll need to drive the scrap truck.



And I'm not going to let her go easy. These kinds of arrangements require a great deal of understanding and tact. I fully appreciate my daughter's worth as a thinking, caring individual. I won't let her go for anything less than my neighbor's '86 John Deere swather.

I know that a lot of my readers would consider a trade like this to be completely offensive and a total betrayal of innocence, but if he's so dumb as to pony up a perfectly good swather, that's his problem.





A big hello to visitors from my wife's commentary over on worldnetdaily.com. Hope you'll visit again and maybe take my humble blog as a feed. And feel free to leave a comment. If I don't like it, I can just delete it.

And to all my readers, I'd surely appreciate a vote over on humor-blogs.com.

Thanks! And have a great weekend.



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Hello again my fellow Americans.

I want to say that I am honored and gratified that so many people have expressed an interest in my Presidential Campaign.



But now the hard work must begin. We have left the heady early days of yesterday (Oh alright! Sunday. Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I was quite busy yesterday inflating the campaign headquarters.) and have now reached the first crucial phase of any campaign: explaining away the past indiscretions of the Candidate.

But before we get to those, I'd like to continue telling you why I'm a different candidate than all the others.

My opponents are supported by special interests who are pouring millions of dollars into fancy advertising while consorting with tawdry women of low moral character.

I on the other hand have to snag my campaign cash from my wife's purse. And she won't let me have, or even look at tawdry women. I think this stinks. I mean, what's the point of running for President if you don't get to hang out with tawdry women?

But I digress.

Our nation is sorely divided. Red State. Blue State.



And who pays for this? You the American People do! And this is insane! Billions of dollars for red and blue paint and none for independent Presidential Campaigns and tawdry woman rental??

But we will not be disheartened. We will overcome the tremendous forces of Discrimination based on Color!

And to that end, I've decided to create a new Political Party. A party that melds the red and blue states to create a Grand Union!

Ladies (tawdry or otherwise) and Gentlemen.

I give you:



A tip of the tam to CrotchetyOldMan, my provisional Director of Communications for the idea. (Provisional because campaign finances are such at the moment that I'm paying my staff in beef.)

Experience!

Many have asked: Don, what kind of experience do you have that would suggest that you are even capable of leading our Great Nation?


Bah!

Take a look at the current President. A military pilot. A past Governor, and a twice-elected President. Does he get to hang out with women of loose morals?

You bet he doesn't.

Being president has nothing to do with experience. It is all about gullibility. And I will stand my loyal supporters' gullibility up against anyone's!


In the weeks to come, I will be announcing my Cabinet. Naturally, I will be choosing people based on integrity, personal honor, and above all loyalty.

Loyalty.


Join us and become one of the colorful skid marks that make up the fabric of the American Way.



And don't forget. (Just in case you missed the subtle hints above, to vote for me at humor-blogs.com.


Thank you America. And good night.



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Hello my fellow Americans.




It's come to my attention recently that we are preparing to have an election for a new President. I wasn't aware that we needed a new one but then I remembered that they do tend to wear out rapidly. And everyone always forgets the common maintenance chores that would extend their usefulness; like changing the oil policy and rotating the troops.

So I decided to take a look at the new models and I must say I'm disappointed.

The two leading candidates are not what I would call fully-loaded. The older model seems to be a lot like the previous one. A smooth ride, but hell on mileage. And the newer model looks like it is equipped with a bunch of untried accessories and seems to be underpowered.

And neither of them come with cup holders.

So I decided to throw my tam into the ring. I'm now announcing the:




"It is time that this Great Nation "truly" receives change for change sake! And I have change to spare! And after my inauguration, I promise that "Spare Change?" will be the most commonly heard phrase on the streets of America!"


Here's what the Press is saying about my candidacy:








Q: Why did you decide to run?

A: I have absolutely no intention of running. I'm a lousy runner. When I was accepted on the track team in High School, it was as a hurdle.

No. I will walk; maybe a quick shuffle if necessary to avoid the loaded Log-truck of Public Opinion.

Run!!? I'm the friggin' President! Thats what the Secret Service is for. Those guys probably love running.



Q: You say you're for real change. What exactly does this mean?

A: What is this??? A witch hunt!!? (Hmm...witch hunts..that might be worth bringing back.) If I say I'm for change, then that should be good enough for base-born scum like you!


But...I will give you one example. I will be moving the White House to Northern Idaho. Washington DC is positively crawling with politicians. I have no intention of having to wash my hands every 15 minutes.



Q: What will you be doing about the undocumented worker problem?

A: As I understand it, most of the previous population of Mexico in now in the US. This is a thorny problem that has not been adequately addressed by my opponents.

On the one hand, I hate Mariachi music. On the other hand, these people are willing to do the jobs that decent and honorable Americans are unwilling to do. So with my plan, all undocumented aliens will become Congressmen.







Q: How will you make America secure from attack?

A: I have a two-fold plan.

First, we will immediately launch an unprovoked nuclear strike on Canada. We will use anti-neutron bombs* which completely destroy buildings and infrastructure, while not appreciably harming people. I mean, have you seen the architecture in Ottawa? The place looks like Des Moines.





Sparing the people of Canada is of supreme importance. Much of America's stratigraphic raw humor comes from Canada. California just can't supply enough on it's own.

*(I'm assuming we have anti-neutron bombs. If not, by God we will have! Or heads will roll!)

Why Canada you ask?

If we are willing to level our closest friend and neighbor just to make a point, what do you think this will say to potential enemies around the world?

The second part of my innovate defense plan is to turn that old, and rather insipid US Army recruiting slogan: "An Army of One." into reality. We will fulfill my plan to "Get the Military Out of America" and replace it with a single crazed lunatic with unlimited access to the Nation's arsenal.



You can bet THAT will keep the Nabobs in Tehran guessing!





Tomorrow, we will present part two of the DON LEWIS for PRESIDENT announcement. Don't miss it!

And don't forget a vote for this funny blog at humor-blogs.com is a vote for decency, moral superiority, and the American way of life! (Not necessarily all at the same time of course; that only stands to reason.)


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Many of my readers ask, "Why do you do, whatever it is that you do for a living Don?"

OK. To be fair, only my wife has asked me this question. (frequently) And just like a woman, she can't just ask it straight out. No, she has to bury the question in all sorts of trivialities.

Like: "Why are we still living like this?" or "Why can't you get a real job?"

But over the years that we've been together, I've learned to glean the real meaning behind my wife's often incomprehensible utterances. I've interpreted, correctly I think, her real question as: "Why do you do what you do for a living?"

This isn't a simple question to answer, since we are all the sum of our environment, our heredity, and the choices we've made in life. Since a lot of the choices I've made plainly suck in hindsight, and since I'm surrounded by people who seem to make a pretty decent living, I've decided to take the easy route and blame my ancestors.

I come from poor, but often-as-naught honest peasant stock (excepting a great great great uncle who, although poor, was eventually hung as a horse thief. He apparently was an indifferent rider, and being a bit afraid of horses, would always chose the slowest and gentlest mounts to steal.)




While often deficit in many of the more salutary traits of the immigrants that formed our Nation, we Lewis's had one vital difference, one spark of our Druidic ancestors, a trait that has lasted thorough all the generations:

VISION!

That mystical and completely irresistible understanding of the warp and weave of future events. The fact that history and our Vision never actually meshed has always been a source of surprise to me, but that's histories fault. Our vision was always perfectly clear.

Coming to America

Arriving on the shores of America in the early 1800's, my ancestors found a land of milk and honey, where hard work and the American spirit of rugged individualism practically assured the new immigrant of a bright future.

Unfortunately, many of my ancestors were lactose intolerant, preferred their honey fermented, and had a nasty auto-immune response to perspiration. They did however, have Vision, and quickly recognizing that that the east coast of America was already far too heavily policed, they headed west.

Here on the plains of the Great American Desert, my Forefathers really showed their mettle. Understanding that a hungry, growing Nation would need to be fed, (and watered) my ancestors planted corn and quickly set up stills.


(In moderation)

Then came the Civil War. The men of my family fought gallantly, often rising to the rank of private, before petty jealousies and the mysterious loss of small but valuable personal items in their units was unfairly used against them.

But what really set the Lewis men apart from the common herd in those heady days of war was the sense of fair play and egalitarianism that allowed, nay, required them to switch sides, often right in the middle of battle. Unfortunately, that Vision thing was at work here as well, and we usually ended up on the losing side.

One notable exceptions to this loyalty deficit disorder was my Great (times 5) Grandfather, Jedediah Lewis, one of General Lee's most trusted orderlies.



Loyal to the core, it was his recommendation (and his constant carping about sore feet) that caused General Lee, in his victorious march to the North, to detour to Gettysburg in July of 1863 to secure new shoes for his army from a storage depot there.

At first reluctant, General Lee was finally convinced by Jedediah's insistence that he had a Vision; going to Gettysburg would bring a swift end to the war.

This is the only recorded example of one of my ancestors being right.



"Faster! Oh please! Faster!!"

After the war, disenfranchised and lawless men roamed the west. And it was here that my previously mentioned great great great Uncle came into his own. Nearly riding with the James gang, almost robbing a bank with the Daltons, just a few minutes behind the Doolins in one of their daring train robberies, he just missed making a name for himself that would live in infamy wherever tales of the old west were told.

Well, I suppose that’s enough for now. In my next installment, I'll cover my family's more recent history including: My Grandfather's role as an Adviser to Roosevelt and Churchill at the Yalta conference,




and my Father's decision in the 1970's to stop investing with "that young fool Gates" and to put his retirement money into a fondue restaurant franchise.

It's that Vision thing again.

Hope you all have a great weekend. I have a Vision that it will be marvelous for you!

Sorry about that.

But before you go, a click on humor-blogs.com would be very appreciated. Thanks. See you on Monday. (Or earlier. You never know.)


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It's just been one of those days. The yield on my hayfield was quite a bit less than I foolishly anticipated. The check from a customer that I deposited in the bank a few days ago somehow didn't clear until today. Meanwhile, the banks ability to process the checks I wrote yesterday appears to be supernatural in its swiftness.

Now we're in a dust storm due to high winds and bare fields.

And I'm out of beer.

So today, I'm going to take the easy way out and post the following. I understand that it's been out there for a while, but it was new to me and it caused the kind of explosive laughter that definitely lightened my mood.




Amazingly, VW disavowed any knowledge of this gem. And even more surprising, it appears that VW actually told the truth.

Anyhow, tomorrow I promise a real rip-snorting post to start your weekend off right. Don't forget humor-blogs.com. Amazingly I still reside near the toppish part of the heap. Thanks everyone.



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My friends and fellow stockholders. As you are no doubt aware, current World economic conditions are not rosy. And we here at DONCO are also being effected. Sale figures for many of the fine DONCO product lines are down.

While much of this bad news may be directly related to the spiraling costs of fuel, it must also recognized that many poor product development decisions here at DONCO have played a part. I feel personally responsible for the failure of Swearword Scrabble.



I totally misjudged its potential in the crucial "Fun for the whole family" game category.

We've also experienced quite a set back with our flagship product, LeBloc. It turns out that the Purchasing Department, in what would otherwise have been an excellent move cost-wise, contracted for the entire LeBloc line to be made from wood grown in the near-vicinity of the Chernobyl nuclear power plant.

Sadly. it turns out that the initial sales benefit of natural photoluminescence,


has been somewhat offset by a lethal exposure period of about 15 minutes.




As you can imagine, we are quite saddened by this development, as it means we are stuck with several hundred thousand LeBlocs in a warehouse that is now being used to generate power for DONCO Corporate headquarters.

While this might seem a silver-lining, unfortunately the warehouse walls keep melting, which is causing unacceptable maintenance costs as well as negatively impacting our Oompa Loompa work force, death-wise.



These and other set backs have caused me to think long and hard about our present business model. And after many minutes of effort, I am pleased to announce that DONCO, in keeping with cutting edge* business practices, has decided to adopt the "Federal" Model of Impelled Revenue Sustainability (IRS).

*(Oh yes, that reminds me, we've discontinued our "Lil Tyke" Band Saw as well.)


The idea came to me when I heard that the State of Washington has decided to