Curds

Curds: (n) any substance resembling curd cheese

“Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet

Eating her curds and whey.

Along came a spider, who sat down beside her

And frightened Miss Muffet away.”

You may view this as a nursery rhyme.

Actually, it is a warning to young men everywhere, written in code, requiring deciphering.

First of all, beware any woman who would call herself “Little Miss Muffet.”

The word “little” by itself tells you that she will be on a diet the entire duration that you know her, which means you will also need to be on the same regimen, because of her obsession to always be slimmer.

Shall we examine the word “Miss?” She believes everything she owns, wears, or dangles from her is gold. You are merely coming to the museum to buy a ticket to see it.

I don’t even want to talk about Muffet.

But here’s where it gets interesting: she sat on a tuffet.

Soon in our story, a spider will appear.

If you don’t want to see spiders, don’t sit on a tuffet, which is a footstool close to the ground. This is obviously spider turf.

How arrogant of you, Little Miss, to think you can invade Spider World without being challenged?

And what is the Little Miss eating? Curds and whey.

For those of you less aware, that is the old-fashioned configuration for cottage cheese.

There you go.

She’s not eating a hot dog. She’s not munching a burger. You see, if you get with this chick, you’re headin’ for vegetarian—to eventually die a vegan.

So along comes a spider (surprise, surprise) and sat down beside her. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for a spider to sit? Where, after all, do you put all the legs?

It was an act of friendliness, certainly misinterpreted by a spoiled rotten little brat, who should probably choke on those curds.

To make it worse—or to make it clear, depending on your perspective—she sees the spider, feigns horror and runs away.

Now, you’re a spider. You didn’t bite anyone. You came, you sat down. God knows, you weren’t interested in the curds and whey. Your goal was interaction. Inter-species exchange of values.

That damn bigot—Miss Muffet—ran away when she saw you.

Maybe it’s because she heard how well-endowed black spiders are.

 

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Cruller

Cruller: (n) a rich, light cake cut from a rolled dough and deep-fried

Now I understand.

It’s taken me a while.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been in fits of denial, or even rebellion.

Perhaps I was temporarily stuck in the foolishness of, “It’s not fair.”

But I’ve been worn down. I have survived frazzled and become limp in my comprehension.

To live long, you must hate things.

It’s true. Don’t try to disagree with me.

I remember the first time I put a piece of fried bologna in my mouth.

I thought to myself:

“Yes. This is what God is like.”

But before I could even get it down my throat to land in my gullet, somebody nearby asked the two deadly questions:

“Do you know how many calories are in that?”

“Did you know they make it out of pig snouts?”

Either though neither question would truly deter me from eating fried bologna again, I realized that if I wanted to live on Planet Sensitive, Earth Mother Eat Your Vegetables, or the Third Planet from the Fun, I would have to learn to hate things that were certainly did not deserve my disdain.

Unfortunately the list just keeps growing.

Today, when the word “cruller” came up, I realized it has been many years since I’ve had one.

And they have them just down the street. But I have succeeded in avoiding them—believing them to be tasty, quick death.

But just hearing the word tore down all my defenses, shattered my prejudice and made me want to get in my car and go buy one.

What harm could one do?

Well, one atomic bomb can kill a hundred thousand people.

One bullet in your brain will leave you thoughtless.

And I’m told that one cruller can rob days, maybe weeks, from my journey.

Are we really lengthening our lives for a joyful purpose–or just adding days, focusing our souls to hate things that really, really deserve our love?

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C


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Covet

Covet: (v) to desire wrongfully, inordinately, or without due regard for the rights of others

I don’t think I would ever earn a dollar if I didn’t covet money.

I certainly would never go on a diet if I didn’t covet the physique of someone boldly handsome.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I would never practice my music if I didn’t covet the style, grace and ease of those who have mastered instrument and voice.

I don’t know whether I would be interested in my spiritual life if I didn’t covet something beyond the mundane drivel of thoughts my brain often considers to be adequately enlightening.

I don’t think I would mow my grass if my neighbor didn’t make me covet a manicured lawn.

I’m not so sure I would do much of anything in my life if I didn’t covet a more gleaming path.

We must remember that the removal of evil is certainly a high-minded—and high-handed—pursuit. Because if you take away the lust, the coveting, the curiosity and the yearning of the human being, you might end up with a self-righteous, religious fanatic who is completely intolerant about why anyone would covet anything, since life is so sinful and unfulfilling.

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Counterterrorism

Counterterrorism: (n) terrorism in retaliation for some previous act of terrorism.

Some things sound good:

  • Recycling
  • Therapy
  • Teeth brushing
  • A diet
  • Losing weight
  • Gaining confidence
  • And … counterterrorism.

Yet before we launch into any one of these seemingly noble pursuits, maybe we should ask what the price tag is on achieving them.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

How much effort does it take to recycle, considering the benefit achieved?

How effective is therapy in light of the expense and length of time it takes to acquire some sense of balance?

How many times a day should teeth be brushed before it seems the only taste in the mouth is paste?

How many calories should each of us consume to maintain our health without increasing our waistline?

How much weight is it necessary for us to lose, when we know that losing weight can also be the first sign of severe illness?

When are we gaining confidence, and at what point does it become promo talk, which is not necessarily backed up by our actual abilities or actions?

And when is counterterrorism the needful action, and how many freedoms will have to be jettisoned from our lifestyle to assure us that we are safe from religious and political maniacs who have axes to grind which were forged back in the Middle Ages?

And for that matter, when is our counterterrorism considered by a citizen of another country to be terrorism, considering the pain it inflicts and the death toll it produces? I believe there are three steps necessary to counterterrorism:

  1. Put together the finest investigators, interrogators and infiltrators as possible
  2. Find terrorists and make sure they are determined to kill innocent people
  3. Quietly kill them first, without telling anybody else, and letting the world know about their cause.

Terrorists love to terrorize because it makes them feel powerful. If you remove the notoriety, and they feel insecure to go to bed at night for fear that their mattress might explode, you just might discourage the practice.


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Contain

Contain: (v) to control

This will be over-simplistic.

I know this.

Often, in an attempt to take away the complications of life, there are individuals who will rise up in horror and accuse those who are trying to break down life into funny wisdom on words that begin with a Cnuts and bolts, and attack them for such a foolish endeavor.

With that in mind, I offer this silly premise:

Great life is about avoiding frustration.

Frustration is caused by trying to do something that doesn’t want to be done. Maybe it rejects your efforts now, or it’s containment is denied to anyone, at any time.

But further effort will only produce frustration, which eventually promotes cynicism, leading to the emotional desert of faithlessness.

I do not know what I can contain.

I try to contain myself within a diet. Even when I’m successful at following a regimen, sometimes my body feels affronted and refuses to shed pounds, in order to protect me from starvation.

I try to contain my belief into a quaint explanation of my hopes only to discover that when inspiration wants to crack through the atmosphere of Earth, it will often contradict my theories.

I try to contain prejudice and racism from permeating the society in which I live, only to discover that my best chance is to focus solely on my own quirk.

We become boggled because we begin to believe we have enough answers accumulated to solve all the equations. We are soon frustrated. And frustration is what brings us our worst…

Oh, I already said that.

 

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Concession

Concession: (n) something that is granted

A few obvious but still needfully shared concessions:

  1. I am not nearly as smart as I think, nor even as you project.
  2. I am not a stud. I don’t know a stud. What is a stud?
  3. Diets don’t work, but when I eat less I weigh less.
  4. Talent is overrated, leaving creativity orphaned.
  5. I am not the best at anything but in a pinch can pass.
  6. There is no difference between a Republican and a Democrat when they are both blind to real human need.
  7. Church does not make people better. Just pious.
  8. As long as men are trying to be superior, women will never be able to pull themselves up to equality.
  9. Even though I like to watch it, football is a dangerous sport.
  10. I can’t taste the beer in my bratwurst.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

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Mr. Kringle's Tales...26 Stories 'Til Christmas

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Cherub

Cherub: (n) a beautiful or innocent-looking child.

It takes a lot for me to become motivated to try to lose weight.

It’s similar to convincing an ant-eater that ant consumption is bad for its health. After all, you are named “ant-eater.” To suddenly stop eating ants not only removes your diet, but robs you of your identity.

I.e., if I am not a fat man, who am I?

If I’m not the guy talking about calories while lamenting my metabolism, how would I be able to find myself in a crowded mall?

My identity is wrapped up in my weaknesses just as much as my virtues. I don’t know why we take so much time to lie, cheat and cover up our frailties, when the
y are obviously going to pop up and announce their presence.

But every once in a while, I do become motivated to try to carve away some of the fat from my body. It usually takes a shock. One such occasion happened when a gentleman from a newspaper, reviewing my show and describing my face, wrote: “He is a chubby fellow with cherub-like features.”

I was appalled.

There is no man born on this Earth who wants to be a chubby cherub. Matter of fact, if you told a woman that her blind date was “chubby and cherub-like” she just might call in sick.

I became obsessed.

I went to my bathroom mirror and stood there for at least fifteen minutes, peering at my cheeks–my second chin which was thinking about adding on an addition–and eventually became convinced that I indeed was a cherub. Although that supposedly has angelic proportions, it also makes you look too child-like and too plump.

I immediately started a diet, which didn’t last long because I was motivated for all the wrong reasons.

So over the years I have tried to grow a beard, which was as successful as any other cherub, and I’ve sported a mustache–a goatee which I occasionally have to pencil in because it’s just not dark enough.

This whole story would be very pathetic except for the fact that deep in my heart, I really don’t care.

My confidence is not based on my appearance, but rather, the confidence my appearance may proffer to others.

 

 

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