Let me begin by irritating extreme animal lovers. I use the word extreme because we all love animals. I love animals. I love dogs, birds, and jack-a-lopes, but extreme animal lovers love all animals including those that are a pain in the ass i.e. squirrels.

In my opinion, squirrels were put on earth strictly for decoration. They’re nice to look at but they add absolutely nothing to the animal society. Squirrels are the Kardashians of the animal kingdom.

Think about it. Have you ever seen a squirrel do anything constructive? Beavers build dams, horses pull wagons, but squirrels do squat. They run around the yard all day like they don’t have a care in the world. They wouldn’t even make good pets. They can’t fetch, they don’t purr, and if you let one in your house, they will trash it. They have no use.

Not only are squirrels do-nothings, they have numerous disgusting qualities as well. As I mentioned earlier, I love birds. I like to watch them as they enjoy the birdseed banquet I prepared for them in their feeder. Their BIRD feeder which I fill with birdseed is for the BIRDS ONLY. 

I don’t have any squirrel feeders in my yard but that doesn’t stop the furry little felons from pilfering my bird seed. They climb up the feeder, hang upside down, and eat their fill. After I outfitted my feeder with the latest anti-squirrel technology, they went so far as to rig a catapult and shoot one squirrel at a time towards the feeder.

None of the other animals like squirrels, perhaps because of their constant thievery. We already know that birds are not their friends, and if you own a dog, you know that canines don’t care for them either. You never see squirrels hanging out with other animals, because none of the animals like them. Unlike the horse, the camel, and the oxen, a squirrel can’t be trained, it doesn’t listen to directions, and it has very little upper body strength. Those are the same qualities we use to elect our politicians. Ha, ha, a squirrel could be the next president. Wait a minute, that might be the answer!

If we take the most famous squirrel in history, a.k.a. Rocket J. Squirrel and get him to run for president, we would finally have a viable alternate choice. Rocky for president and Bullwinkle for veep. I can see it now. Rocky will say that Trump’s hair looks like the nest he grew up in and he’ll remind Hillary that he’s cuter.

So, hop on the bandwagon with me my friends and vote Rocky The Flying Squirrel for President. What’s one more fictional character in this race?

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 I like spring because everything starts to grow anew, especially weeds. I am not a fan of weeds and spend a lot of time yanking them out of my garden. I imagine that every weed I pull represents somebody currently running for president and rip them out by the roots.

Spring could actually be used as an analogy to compare the candidates still in the race. Let’s start with the birds of spring. They fly around, lay eggs, eat the seed I put out for them, and poop on my car. If birds could vote, they’d probably go for Bernie Sanders.

Moles also reappear in the spring. They are disgusting creatures that dine on grubs and undermine your lawn with tunnels. They are also unpleasant to look at and have tiny hands. I believe the mole lobby would go overwhelmingly for Trump.

One bird that doesn’t eat seed from the feeder is the hawk. The hawk just glides around in the sky all day until it spots a creature to eat. Then the hawk swoops down and grabs its prey before it ever knows what hit it. Hawks for Hillary.

There is also a spring reemergence of the opossum. It is an odd looking animal that would never win a beauty contest. It keeps its babies in a pouch and its biggest defense is to play dead. The possums are Cruz supporters.

No matter who winds up winning, I will plant my garden this spring. I plant a garden every year to provide food for chipmunks and rabbits. In the past, my pests consumed everything in my garden before it had a chance to grow. I never tasted the bounty of the harvest, until last year.

Last year I planted a crop that the chipmunks and rabbits would hate. Beets. Nobody likes beets including me, but I wound up with a bumper crop. If beets could vote, they’d go for Kasich.

Spring is also synonymous with spring cleaning, the time of year when you come to realize that you have been living in dirt all winter. For some reason, you don’t know how dusty things really are until you dust them.

I volunteer to do the spring cleaning at my house and developed a method that works for me and will work for you too. It’s called The Man’s Method for Spring Cleaning. First, pick a nice day for your cleaning when you can open up all of the doors and windows and let in some fresh air. Then, starting at the front door, use your leaf blower and go room to room, dusting and sweeping at the same time. You will be done with the entire house in a fraction of the time it would take with a dust cloth so you can use your extra time to watch the big game on TV. Unfortunately, you blew your remote control out the window.

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Let me begin by stating that even though the headline is about sex, the following article is not salacious, racy, or dirty. This is an article about what once was and what now is. My target audience is Baby Boomers, defined as those being born between 1946 and 1964. You remember the 1960’s as a rebellious era when free love was the word of the day. Good times.

You are also old enough to be in or near your own personal 60’s. And if you are sixty or older you know that your sixties are different from the sixties and  I want to point out the differences, especially when it comes to the least common denominator, sex.

I have compared what I can remember of sex in the sixties with what I recall from sex in my sixties, and have come to the following observations. See if you agree.

Sex In The Sixties – Because we lived at home with our parents, sex was limited to automobiles. Back then cars had real back seats that people could screw on, and the ideal place to park the car was at a drive-in movie. It didn’t make any difference what the movie was, you had a six pack of Pabst and a big-ass back seat. Party on.

Sex In Your Sixties – Sex no longer happens in the car. Not only are cars smaller but you are not as agile as you once were. So sex happens in the bed…in the dark…and no fancy stuff. If you ever have the urge to have sex in the car again, I suggest you hire a limo, and bring a six pack of Pabst.

Sex In The Sixties – Since it was a new experience for us, it took a while to get the hang of it. We may have been quick to finish but we were good to go again in 10 minutes.

Sex In Your Sixties – When you get older, it’s not about how and when you finish, it’s more about getting started. The beginning is not as impetuous as it once was and requires additional attention. In extreme cases, there is medication that could keep you occupied for the next four hours. Minor cases can be treated with porn.

Sex In The Sixties – Hickeys or sucker bites were marks on your neck and they were a big deal.

Sex In Your Sixties – Marks on your neck are called age spots and are only a big deal if they start changing shape.

Sex In The Sixties – To keep yourself from prematurely arriving at the happy ending, you think about baseball.

Sex In Your Sixties – You no longer think about baseball, unless it’s about a naked all-woman team doing calisthenics.

Sex In The Sixties – Sex was spontaneous. It could happen at any time, in any place.

Sex In Your Sixties – Sex is planned for well in advance. Liquor may be involved.

Sex In The Sixties – Getting to second base was a major accomplishment.

Sex In Your Sixties – Staying awake after 10 o’clock is an accomplishment.

Sex In The Sixties – Condoms were worn to prevent pregnancies.

Sex In Your Sixties – Condoms are worn for support, especially if you wear two or three at a time.

Sex In The Sixties – It was all we thought about, all the time.

Sex In Your Sixties – Sex has moved down the list of things we think about all the time and currently ranks fourth behind sports,  fishing, and, pie.

I hoped my Boomer readers enjoyed this article. If you are younger than a Boomer, this is your future. Cheers.

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Today is the last day of the year and time to make your New Year’s resolutions. 

Resolutions are promises that you make to yourself, and since they are only to yourself, you don’t feel that bad when you break them.

People make resolutions to lose something, do something, learn something, or obtain something but rarely, if ever, follow through with them. This year, my number one resolution is to follow through on my resolutions. That said, I hereby resolve to the following promises

1. Lose Something. I don’t plan on losing weight in the new year because that’s too hard. Instead, I vow that I will lose more hair.

2. Do Something. I vow that the thing I will do in 2016 is to cast my vote for president no matter how disgusting the choices may be.

3. Learn Something. I plan to learn if that prince from Nigeria is really on the up and up this year. If he doesn’t put the money in my account by midnight, I’ll know that something’s up.

4. Obtain Something. I plan on obtaining an advanced degree in the new year. I want to go beyond masters, or a doctorate, and go straight to getting the Nth degree. I’ve heard a lot about it and I can get one online from the University of Phoenix

One more thing. I think we need a new holiday for January 2nd. On the day after Christmas, many countries celebrate Boxing Day. Nobody knows what it means but it’s another day off so what the heck. I think we should designate the day after New Years for the same reason.

I think January 2nd should be called Do-Over Day. This is the time to reassess your 2016 resolutions and drop the ones that are stupid, unrealistic, or were made under the influence of champagne. Everybody needs a do over and this is the perfect day to do it. Let’s make Do-Over Day a reality. Write your congressperson and let me know what they say.

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I love a good sock. I love to feel my feet wrapped in softness as I walk around the house. Some people like to walk barefoot in their homes but I have never felt that comfortable. I go barefoot in the shower and in bed, but if I’m up and about, I want my socks.

My sock of choice is a basic white athletic sock. It fits well, wears well, and even marks for your heel and your toes. No more tube socks (Google it if you were born after 1980) for us, no-siree. Our white socks are fitted now with designated places for the heel and the toe. Civilization has come to the sock.

Since I wear socks around the house every day, I tend to go through them like a Kardashian goes through mascara, so when I run into a sale on socks, I stock up. Recently I came upon just such a sale.

On a visit to Costco, I saw a display of white socks. Not only white socks but NIKE white socks, with a place for my toes, a place for my heel and a silhouette of Michael Jordan on the top of the foot. They were perfect.

I bought a package of socks the size of a hay bale – 100 socks for $25. You can do the math and come to the figure of 25 cents per sock. This is a deal.

When I got home I showed my sock bale to my wife and she immediately said that they needed to be washed before I wore them. Why? They’re not dirty, they’re white, but I guess it’s to get rid of potential sock cooties. When the socks came out of the dryer, they were warm and soft, and I wondered if I could get an entire suit made out of socks.

I pulled the first sock over my foot and Michael Jordan was looking right at me. I pulled on the second sock and was ready to go. This is when the problems started.

I do not know for sure what kind of textile was used to make these socks but it was soft and stretchy. Very comfortable. As I walked around the house I took pleasure in the comfort afforded me by my socks, but after I climbed the stairs to my office, I noticed that the socks were shifting. The part designated for the heel was now on top of my foot, the toe markings were way off, and Michael Jordan was kissing the floor.

I immediately sat down, removed, and adjusted my socks. I continued walking and quickly noticed that the socks had shifted again. I readjusted, walked some more, and took notice of more sock movement. Even though these socks had been adjusted twice, they still got out of alignment. These socks are not behaving in a proper sock-like manner. They are the misbehaving socks.

My wife even washed the first batch in bleach, thinking that might teach them a lesson but these are hardcore misbehavers and not easily tamed. I have given up on them and am looking to re-use them. I’m thinking home-made sock puppets for all will be a big surprise on Christmas morning.

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