No Patience

I read the other day that the police arrested Travus T. Hipp for possession with intent to sell. I think these days he lives somewhere in Nevada and does political (left) commentary on a few radio stations. In the day he was the beacon of the hippie philosophy and his stories and commentary always reflected that. Today Travus is still at it and he is 70 years old...the only thing I can think of is that he pissed some Republican off. What a waste of taxpayer money...leave the old man alone!

Speaking of getting old, it seems that my patience with everything is waning. Life seems especially short these days and I don't have time for stupidity when it shows itself, which lately has been often. Stupid people like George Bush, stupid people who say stupid things, stupid people doing really stupid stuff...stupidity sucks and it is such a big waste of time and in some cases skin. People who drive recklessly and feel entitled that they should go faster than anyone else and not stop when everyone else stops--they stupidly endanger everyone else on the road and they should be stopped, say with a missile launched from my 1996 Honda Accord...yeah I could do that and feel no remorse, that's how I feel about stupid people...so don't piss me off by doing stupid things, I just don't have the patience for it anymore!

There should be a movie made about angry, pissed off women on hormones suffering from menopause that take out the gangs of L.A. and clean up the city once and for all. I would pay money to see that movie and might even buy the DVD when it comes out. Racist? Naw, just tired of stupid people fucking up the world we live in. The movement is so strong and effective in Los Angeles that gangs all over the U.S. disband, turn in their guns and go to Disney World for the first time in their miserable lives. After the three days of fun and frolicking in Orlando, they're gathered up and sent to IRAQ for the next three years and we bring the National Guard home...how's that for a freaking plan?

Here's a joke my wife sent me...made me laugh out loud. I think people should set aside an hour each day to laugh out loud, laugh until tears come to their eyes, until their stomachs hurt from laughing...sure would be less prozac being dispensed.

A lonely widow, age 70, decided that is was time to get married again.
She put an ad in the local newspaper that read:

HUSBAND WANTED:
MUST BE IN MY AGE GROUP (70's),
MUST NOT BEAT ME,
MUST NOT RUN AROUND ON ME,
AND MUST STILL BE GOOD IN BED!
ALL APPLICANTS PLEASE APPLY IN PERSON.

On the second day she heard the doorbell. Much to her dismay, she
opened the door to see a gray-haired gentleman sitting in a wheel chair.
He had no arms or legs. "You're not really asking me to consider you,
are you?" the widow said. "Just look at you! You have no legs!"

The old gentleman smiled, "Therefore, I cannot run around on you!"

"You don't have any arms either!" she snorted.

Again, the old man smiled, "Therefore, I can never beat you!"

She raised an eyebrow and asked intently, "Are you still good in bed?

"The old man leaned back, beamed a big smile and said, "I rang the door
bell, didn't I?"

The wedding is scheduled for Saturday...

There don't you feel better now?

The Obituary

Some people might call it morbid fascination, but ever since I turned 50, I always check out the local Obituaries,

"...wow Jonah you have waayyyy too much time on your hands."

The scary part is when you read about these folks and they are your age or younger. He was a gardener, blah blah blah, he enjoyed the outdoors, blah, blah, he was an accomplished bingo player, blah, ba-blah, blah-blah! Ironically, you never hear how the dead bastard used to beat his wife or lock his kids in the dark basement, they are always loving...

So I decided to write my own Obituary...I really had a difficult time coming up with anything worthwhile, sort of sad really but a great exercise and a wonderful motivator to get my ass in gear and make a difference dammit!

Jonah Parker Cummings II, a radio broadcaster also known as Jon Robbins died today. Jonah was born on March 13, 1954 and is survived by his wife of ten years Florence Joy Cummings, Raleigh, a saint of a woman who Jonah should have treated better; Son Jonah Christian Cummings, Chapel Hill; Son Connor Scout Cummings, Raleigh; Sister, Tracy Cummings; Sister Carmela Sasaki; Brother David Phillips; Brother, Andrew Cummings, Brother, Norman Cummings and Celene Edmonds, a horrid, blood sucking little troll who lives off of pond scum and was his trailer trash ex-wife and mother of his youngest son. Jonah was predeceased by his Father Jonah Parker Cummings, Mother Zela DeBarro, Sister Coral-Ann Cummings and his oldest Son’s Mother Ruth Krauss-Cummings.

Jonah was born in Gulfport, Mississippi and called California home. He played football, made ok grades, did really stupid stuff and graduated from Huntington Beach High School in 1972. He enlisted in the U.S. Army and served as Missle Specialist for the 1st Armored Division in Schwabach, Germany. Following three years of active duty Jonah was honorably discharged in 1975 as a Vietnam Era Veteran. Jonah Cummings attended Humboldt State University, Arcata, California majoring in Journalism and had aspirations to become a serious journalist and writer exposing corrupt politicians and making the world a better place. Instead he dropped out after three years became a low-life Radio DJ spinning everything from Rubber Band Man to The Grateful Dead. Jonah began his broadcasting career in Eureka, CA at KFMI-FM and spent thirty plus years in Radio as an On-Air Talent, News Director, Program Director and Regional VP/Programming in Washington D.C.; Seattle; Spokane; Portland; Eugene; Corvallis; Minneapolis; Sacramento; Raleigh; Detroit; Springfield/Hartford and Charleston, SC. He was active in various charities and organizations including Make-A-Wish and Crimestoppers. He left radio in 2007 and became a political blogger, human rights activist and ball shagger at Rusty’s golf driving range. Golf was a game Jonah passionately enjoyed; he never had a hole in one or scored a round under par, but he did play the Princeville Course in Kauai and holed out an Eagle on a par 4 one time. He also loved to travel throughout Europe, Hawaii, and North America wreaking havoc and conducting classes on wine tasting with the locals daily at 6pm. When Jonah died he was an unemployed loser living off the wages his wife made as a Dog Groomer forced to squeeze anal glands on stupid stinking little dogs. His rotting body will be placed in a Hefty Garbage Bag and set out at curbside this Wednesday evening for Trash pick-up on Thursday morning. In lieu of flowers, send money to pay the Garbageman.