Couch Potato

Couch potato: (n) a person whose leisure time is spent watching television.

Quietly listen or observe the contradictions around you and you will be able to accurately assess what is true and what is just the present jabbering fad.

For I will tell you, it is completely impossible to be so busy that you “just don’t know what you’re going to do,” and still have enough time to binge-watch a television show or an Internet series.

One of these two thoughts does not go with the other.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

In similar fashion, it is highly unlikely that we are on the verge of equality between men and women when every romantic comedy has a female protagonist who is completely dissatisfied with her life of business success and financial gain, but according to the plot of the screenplay, must find a man or she will be despaired.

Likewise, be careful listening to those who threaten that couch potatoes—people who spend more time sitting than moving—are in great danger of shortening their lives.

It’s a toss-up.

I’ve met people a hundred years old who worked hard all their days—and just as many who may have never actually gotten out of a chair.

There doesn’t seem to be any universal reasoning for who gets heart disease, the big C, a stroke or any other variety of deadly disorders simply based on whether they rose from their couch and walked around more than anyone else.

Matter of fact, I have bought potatoes at the store, put them into my pantry, and come back many weeks later and found that they were still edible. Potatoes seem to have an impressive lifespan.

So beware those who think they can sum up everything in life with an exercise program or people who think what you eat doesn’t make any difference at all.

Here’s a clue—an idea that just might have legs and feet:

If you’re planning on binge-watching something like “Game of Thrones” for the next eight hours, just make sure you’re snacking on salads and seeds instead of pizza and Big Macs.

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dictionary with letter A

Anthrax: (n) a notifiable bacterial disease of sheep and cattle, which can be transmitted to humans, causing severe skin ulcerations or a form of pneumonia.


People often demand that sensibility requires a certain amount of fear.

Matter of fact, one of the easiest ways to portray yourself as an idiot is to suggest to a roomful of people that they stop all worrying, relax and enjoy the journey.

There are just certain words that evoke terror in the human spirit and cause us to reject all common sense in deference to abstract horror.

Anthrax is one of those.

It’s not really clear to me what happens when you have anthrax, but it is the substance of theatrical tale and myth, which leads us to believe that an outbreak of this disease could wipe out the planet, and more importantly, harm us.

I do not know what is adequate apprehension to make sure that you do not accidentally kill yourself with a condition or calamity that smacks you in the head during your season of unawareness.

But I grow weary of being warned more than enlightened, cursed more than blessed, alerted more than informed and frightened more than loved.

Is there a balance?

Is there a correct amount of information imparted to us which allows us to be knowledgeable without becoming irrational?

Here’s the approach:

1. Explain to me what the danger is.

2. Freshen my mind with ideas of how to avoid the danger.

3. Balance it by letting me know what power I have to prevent, alleviate or eliminate the pending doom.

To me, if you don’t include all three of these in your announcement of Armageddon, you will find yourself failing to really enjoy the days leading up to the end of the world.

(By the way, the most dangerous condition passed on by sheep and cattle is heart disease…)


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by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter AAbaya: (n.) a full-length, sleeveless outer garment worn by Arabs.

One of the true signs of prejudice is our incessant belief that our particular selection of wardrobe is fashionable, while all other garments range from the sublime to the ridiculous.

If I was born in an Arab land, I might wear one of those sleeveless tunics. I think what would bother me most about the abaya is that I would have to go through a season of lifting weights to make sure that my biceps looked muscular instead of flabby. Of course, in the process of lifting weights, I might get other parts of my body to become equally as fit and trim. At that point, I would certainly not want to hide these muscular abs under a loose-fitting tunic. So I probably would come up with some silly rendition of the abaya–where there would be a hole cut in the center to exposed my flourishing six-pack. This would, of course, evoke scrutiny and possible criticism from other abaya wearers, who would find it completely inappropriate to ruin the fashion statement by showing off skin.

I would recoil from their criticism and stop wearing my abaya, which would make me feel alienated from society and soon I would stop my exercise regimen, begin to overeat, develop heart disease, and one day be waddling through the market to purchase chocolate-covered dates and fall over dead from a heart attack.

As you can see, an abaya is not for me.

I just want to make sure that I don’t criticize a Middle-Eastern “look” just because I find it questionable.

This may be the best road to peace–if for one week each culture that was ready to go to war just simply had to wear the clothing of the opposing culture, perhaps enough sympathy could be mustered that we would be forced to the peace table.

The nice thing about an abaya is that you could put on ten pounds and no one would ever know–as long as those “chubbies” didn’t show up around your jowls. Then you would have to wear an abaya with a turtleneck, which would probably also be considered inappropriate–even though I’m not sure the goats in the herd care one way or another.