Grampa’s Handy-Dandy Rules for Living, Vol. 2 10 comments

Posted by grampa in grampa's handy-dandy rules for living (Monday June 19, 2006 at 10:14 pm)

(Special thanks to Doc Thorazine for unearthing this nugget of truth and conveying it to Jesus Yow Christ, who later bestowed it upon me)

Grampa’s Handy-Dandy Rules for Living, Rule #37:

It’s a fine life, if you don’t weaken.

Recently I heard someone talking about the “Courage to Endure.”  To me, this could mean, say, you are in the middle of week 19 of 48 weeks of chemotherapy for some minor, but, ultimately, terminal liver disease you may have picked while up being extremely stupid in your youth.  Some days you have no desire to get out of bed, or go to work, or exercise, or behave civilly to any other human being.  Still, you have to force yourself.  When it comes right down to it, some days all you have is the courage to endure.  And, really, that is all you need to get you through. 

Though, a really understanding roommate doesn’t hurt.

That is not, however, what this rule is about.

The reality of this rule is simple.  If an opportunity presents itself, you need to be prepared to take it.  For instance, say it is 6:39 a.m. on a Saturday morning.   For the sake of this example, let us assume that there is no trash pick up on your island and you have to take it to the transfer station yourself.  You are out on your lanai and you are getting your trash together to take to the dump.  At that instance the little yappy dog from across the street just happens to trot up to you.  And licks you.  To say that you have fantasized more than a hundred ways to kill this dog would be the understatement of the decade.  And the fucker comes up and licks you. While you have an empty trash bag, suitable for the disposal of evidence, in your hands.

It is at this point that you need to get all Carpe Diem and make a decision.  You have two choices. 

(A) You need to get over any moral quandary you may have about whether offing this dog is in any way spiritual and pet it with one hand while dragging your J. Marttiini filet knife across its throat with the other, then toss it in the bag, hose off the porch and head to the dump;


(B) You need to stop complaining about that dog and just get the fuck on with your life.

I think it was Gandhi that said, “He who hesitates is lost, mutherfucker.”  He was so right.

I’m sorry, Gandhi, I let you down.  As I sit here mixing Cooke’s secret ingredient with ground beef, listening to the dog bark and making meatballs, I can say for absolute certain that I won’t let you down again.

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10 comments for Grampa’s Handy-Dandy Rules for Living, Vol. 2 »

please don’t kill the puppy.

Comment by wendykat — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 2:53 am

No worries.

It’s not a puppy. It’s a dog.

Comment by grampa — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 5:47 am

it’s still a puppy… and came over to say hello to you… don’t kill it… pleeeeeease?

Comment by wendykat — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 5:49 am

I’m trying, Ringo. I’m trying reeeeal hard, to be the shepherd.

Comment by grampa — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 6:19 am

You gotta close an italics tag in there, somewhere, gramps. It’s affecting the whole site.

Comment by JW — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 10:07 am


Let him beat up the dog. He’s been talking about killing this dog for MONTHS and MONTHS.

He and the dog need to have a rumble.

Comment by theinsider — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 1:04 pm

What can I say?

Comment by Grampa — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 3:00 pm

I would suggest a trade, but I don’t want the fucking mutt either :)

Comment by DrinkJack — Tuesday.June.20.2006 @ 4:07 pm

I’d leave it alone, Gramps… It may be a trap.

Comment by HarleyWriter — Wednesday.June.21.2006 @ 2:39 am

[…] Now, again, those who know me will tell you that the filter that exists between the brain and the mouth has always been a bit faulty on me.  During this phase it’s not working at all.  I’m snapping at everyone.  I’m making women cry.  I basically want to kill every single person I come in contact with.  Now I was never a violent guy, even back in the bad old days.  But I am now.  No one is immune.  I want to slap old ladies who cut in front of me in the grocery store, run down children waiting for the bus, kill the neighborhood dogs.  Essentially, I’m just full on pissed, all the time.    […]

Pingback by Grampa’s House » A Brief History of Liver — Tuesday.August.1.2006 @ 7:52 am

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