Category: Fourre-tout

Marcel was an average guy. Everything about him was average.
He was of average height, had an average looking wife, and lived in a non-descript house.
He was driving an ordinary looking car and was moderately happy.
One thing gnawed at him though.

He was an assiduous pétanque player and after twenty years of laboring in the shadow of “stars” he longed to be recognized as better than “average”.

He practiced and practiced but this didn’t seem to help his game.
His shots were always too short, too long or way off the mark.

He fell into a deep funk. And with Christmas approaching he felt even worse.
Everybody around him seemed to be happy and excited, but he was not.
If only I could win a tournament, he thought. That would really make my day… Even a second place wouldn’t be bad… or a third…

As he was forlornly walking home, a distinguished looking man approached him.
Excuse me sir, said the stranger tipping his hat, could you spare a minute of your time?
Marcel looked up and was immediately struck by the gentleman’s piercing dark eyes and an assertive handlebar moustache.

-What do you want? asked Marcel.
-First let me introduce myself. My name is Bill Zeebut and I have a business proposition for you…
-Really?
-Well Marcel… yes I know your name, I have been watching you for a while and I think that we have a lot in common…

Marcel was not especially patient but there was something about this man that intrigued him.
-Go ahead mister Zeebut, he said.
-You can call me Bill continued the stranger, but let’s first go to a place where we can talk. As a matter of fact, I know a tavern around the corner where we could chat without being disturbed.
Trancelike, Marcel followed the man.

Once seated in a booth, the stranger said to him:
-Now listen to me carefully Marcel, because I am not going to repeat my offer.
-I am listening.
-As I told you, I have been watching you for a while and I know that there is something that is bothering you.
-What would that be? asked Marcel.
-I know that you wish to be a better pétanque player. Is it not true?
-How do you know that?
-I have my sources…
-If this was true, how could you make me a better player?
-Well Marcel, if you agree to my proposition, you will be able to better control the trajectory of you boules.
-How?
-You will do this through a technique called “mind-control”.
-Mind-control?
-Yes. You will think “left” when you want your boule to go left, and “right” when you want it to go right. It is that simple.
-You must be joking, said Marcel. Nobody could do that.
-I can make it happen Marcel. Trust me. I can definitely make it happen.
-Let’s say that I agree to you proposition, said Marcel, what then do you expect from me in return?
-Very little actually. I just want to be your friend, your mentor; I want you to listen to my suggestions… even when you don’t entirely agree…
-Is that all? It sounds too good to be true…
-It is true my friend, it is true. Do we have deal?
-Well, I want to be a better player…
-Then, put it there my friend… cross my heart and hope to die.
Go forth Marcel, and be a better player. Just remember… use your mind to control your shots and listen to my advice.

And before Marcel realized it, Bill Zeebut vanished into the thin air.

Alain

Definitely to be continued…

A word that I have come to truly hate.

Nowadays, especially during the Holiday Season the words “Savings” is bandied about everywhere like some magic mantra.
Save, save scream the media.
And people, like the sheep of Panurge, rush to the store to “save” the money that they don’t possess.

The original meaning of the word “saving”, may I remind you, was “the money that one put aside for rainy days”.
But it seems that it rains more than usual during the Holiday Season and one is clearly forced to “save” more than usual.

Orchestrated by Big Business, the meaning of the word has gone through a perverse mutation and now “save” unequivocally means “spend”.
Go ahead, you are not spending, you are saving.

And it is always those who can least afford it that “save” the most.
Everybody has seen the pathetic images of the “savers” fighting like mad dogs over items they probably can ill afford.

A word of advice, before “saving” ask yourself the question “do I need or do I want” this thing?
A honest answer to this question might truly rescue a respectable amount of dough.

But holiday shopping has become a seasonal sport and like baseball or football it cannot be denied.
People buy season tickets and rush to the arenas the minute they open their gates.

Most of the purchases are done with credit cards, and with an interest rate hovering between 20 and 25%, people buying a large ticket item will in the long run pay much more than they thought.
So much for “savings”.

I realize that what I am saying is blasphemous. Speaking sacrilegiously about America’s core values is unpatriotic, but like Galileo I know (and so should you) that I am speaking the truth.

Me, if I feel the urge to save, I pour myself a cup of java, sit in front of my computer and far from the madding crowd, I leisurely order online what I probably don’t need (but want).
No camping outside the store and hand-to-hand combat inside for me.
I prefer to “save” in my bathrobe and in the comfort of my abode.

Alain

 

I have long wanted to shed a few pounds, and with the holidays fast approaching I aspired to look my best on Thanksgiving, Christmas or birthday snapshots. Who doesn’t?
But as you all very well know, losing weight is a tad more difficult than crossing the Red Sea.

Disappointed with previous meager results, I resolved to use magic to reach my goal. Like a sorcerer’s apprentice I decided to experiment with supernatural forces.
By harnessing these forces I managed to slim down my already impressive figure.

How did I manage this feat?
Did I use weird diets, strange potions or dark incantations? No, not at all.
To obtain the desired results, I endeavored to unlock the mysteries of Photoshop and its first cousin, Photoshop Elements.

I struggled for a while, but now with a few strokes of a virtual brush, I can enlarge boobs, shrink asses, slim down rotund people and remove ex-lovers from old pictures.

Due to its complexity, Photoshop is not easy to master, but the results can be impressive.
With Photoshop I can neatly place my own head on top of a young Schwarzenegger’s body or put any woman’s face on Sonia’s (Vergara) curvaceous anatomy.
I can change the color of your clothes, make your skin look as smooth as a baby’s bottom and (for a price) make somebody totally disappear.

Did this newfound power go to my head? Am I going like Vladimir Putin ride a horse bare-chested or wrestle a polar bear?
No. It is not my style. I will remain the humble, cool pétanque player I have always been.

But do not cross me. If you do, I can cut you down to size with a few strokes of my magic wand.
On my photo albums (seen the world over I might add) you could end up with Chris Christie’s body or Jocelyn Wildenstein’s (the Bride of Frankenstein) head.
Shudder!!!

So beware, I now have a nuclear option at my disposal and I am not afraid to use it.

Alain