The B Word … February 12th, 2019

THE

WORD


Jonathots Daily Blog

(3952)

The B word is bitch

In the urban dictionary, the word “bitch” has clumsily been defined as a term of power, but nothing could be further from the truth.

“Bitch” has one meaning and one meaning only: a person who is so unsatisfied that they must constantly complain.

Unfortunately, the mass of men in the human species contend, to some degree at least, that this is a valid assertion made about the female of the species. I don’t see men calling their male friends “bitch.”

The word pops to the forefront whenever any man feels that a woman is trying to become a human, and therefore needs to be trimmed back—exposed as a nagging witch.

Men want to marry their mothers, except…

Men want to marry someone who takes care of the house like their mothers—except in the bedroom, where she turns into a porn star. Once the thrill of the sexuality wears off, men tend to only hear their mothers talking at them. They lose interest and begin looking for porn stars outside the house.

The main reason men don’t want women to be human is that then men would have to be human, too. They would have to consider something other than hunting and might need to become fellow “nesters” with their mates. They would have to stop hiding behind their sexual drive and instead, use their appetites to engage their partners.

“Bitch” is a way of keeping women black. Yes, it’s just like using the “N word” to someone of African descent. It is a reminder to “her” that she will never, ever be considered an equal, and must be careful that she won’t be verbally, emotionally or physically abused by trying to gain equal footing.

Also, the parenthetical “bitch” that is taught by religion (“happy wife, happy life”) is used by giggling men talking about how overbearing women can be—pretending that they are submissive to this whining feminine attitude.

It is a man’s world.

And it will continue to suck until it becomes a human world—free of the word “bitch.”


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1 Thing You Can Do This Week To Address An Unruly World


MAKE EVERYTHING A SMALL DEAL

We spend way too much time isolating off the things we think are important, and then build a concrete wall around our minds and emotions, to make sure no one ever infringes on these sacred concepts.

It takes away our flexibility.

It causes us to appear opinionated instead of just blessed with an opinion, and it terminates many relationships which could have bloomed through the seeds of discussion, even if there was disagreement.

What really is a big deal?

If you find you have a list, you can take the number of things you have compiled and subtract them from your potential.

Abrasively showing up to every human encounter with a personal agenda of what you deem to be “the most holy of holies of ideas” is to leave yourself without the ability to learn, and often places you in the role of a fool, when time and knowledge press on, exposing your error.

“It’s no big deal,” because I decided to make it a small deal.

“It’s no big deal,” because ultimately, the way I treat other human beings is the sole criterion for my worth.

Take this week and chop away at all the things you think are big deals and put them to the side as kindling wood—by declaring, “Oh, don’t worry. That’s just a small deal.”


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Iz and Pal (Bedouin Buddies)


Iz and Pal

Jonathots Daily Blog

(3952)

Sitting Six

It took Iz and Pal a good solid two minutes to figure out where they were when they woke up in the desert, and another good five minutes to negotiate what direction to roll, to untangle themselves from their cocoon.

It was already hot.

Sweat was beading all over their bodies, and after two days absence from bathing, odor was aplenty. After all, when stink is near, grumpy will appear.

“You roll this way and I’ll stay still.” Iz was already sporting some attitude.

Pal objected. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘this way,’ because you have no hands to show me. They’re stuck in the tent.”

Iz heaved a deep sigh. “Look at the direction my head is nodding.”

“Would that be roll towards your nod, or opposite your nod?” replied Pal with a bit of whine.

Iz was done giving direction. He began a series of frantic twists, turns, shimmies and shakes, until the tent ripped, and he slithered his way to the safety of freedom.

Pal was angry. “Now look what you’ve done. You ripped it. What good is a ripped tent?”

“What good are two guys trapped in a tent?” Iz said, standing to his feet.

Pal wiggled two or three times and stood up as well. “You stink,” he stated.

Iz rolled his eyes. “That’s good,” he said. “It was difficult to believe you were producing all the odor.”

They jumped at each other and commenced to wrestling, at first with a bit of anger, and then, as the heat took over, with more pure silliness. They finally fell to the side in choked laughter. Pal was gasping for air.

“Oh, yes, this is really smart,” he said. “When you stink, don’t have any water, it’s always good to wrestle, get sweaty and thirsty.”

“I have a little water left,” said Iz coyly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” shouted Pal. “Where is it?”

“I wasn’t holding out,” said Iz defensively. “I just didn’t know how to divide it. I don’t know when we’ll get water again.”

A quiet fell over the boys. How could they continue their adventure without food and water? Yet how could they ever go home without looking weak and stupid?

Iz considered. “Maybe your parents will bring some water.”

Pal shook his head. “It’s just my father. And as I told you, my father will never come here.”

“I really don’t want to die,” said Iz with a whimper.

Pal patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s just make a plan for the water.”

What followed was a rather in-depth discussion on the difference between a sip and a gulp. After finally overcoming the semantics, Iz and Pal determined that they had fourteen sips and eight gulps left—perhaps enough for the day, if they stopped wrestling and were not trapped in any more tents.

They tossed the ball back and forth and just talked as the hours passed. They saw no one. Perhaps no one saw them—unless lizards counted.

The day wore on and hunger pangs set in, with aggravation not far behind. Still, they focused on talking, living, loving and matters that concerned them as young boys.

But after a particularly long moment of silence, Iz presented a new topic. “Mine’s different,” he stated slowly.

“Your what?” asked Pal.

“It’s because I’m Jewish,” explained Iz.

“I know you’re Jewish,” said Pal. “But your what?”

“Think about it,” said Iz, lifting his eyebrows.

So Pal did. It took a moment or two, but he finally came up with the answer. “You mean circumcision,” he said proudly.

“So you know about that?” Iz was a bit surprised.

“Yes,” said Pal. “I guess that’s one of those many things that our religions fight about.”

Iz frowned. “Why do they make such a big deal about that?”

“Why do you think God wants you to do it?” Pal challenged.

“Why do you think God doesn’t want you to?” countered Iz.

“Geez,” said Pal. “I feel stupid even talking about this. Grown-ups make such a big deal about us not touching it or talking about it, or even naming it, and then they end up making it one of the big parts of religion. Which is it, Iz? Is it dirty, or is it holy?”

“I know what you mean,” said Iz. “I remember, in my house, I didn’t know what to call it. You know…what we’re talking about. Like, when I was talking to my Pada, how should I refer to that thing? So I decided to come up with a name, and he got really, really mad at me because I said the name out loud.”

“What was the name?” Pal asked with vigor.

“Oh, it was stupid,” Iz replied shyly.

“Even better,” said Pal. “What was the name?”

“I once found a pet snake,” said Iz. “And before Pada made me get rid of it, I named the snake Ulios.”

Pal frowned. “Ulios? What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” said Iz.

“Exactly,” agreed Pal.

Iz continued. “So once, in front of Pada, I made mention to him of my ‘Ulios’…”

Pal paused, letting the idea sink into his brain, and then burst into laughter. “My father was so nervous,” he said, “I mean, about discussing it with me, that we finally decided to refer to it as my ‘man-dilly.’”

Iz laughed uncontrollably. Gaining some breath, he cited, “It’s all so stupid. They tell us that what we feel and believe is the most important thing, and then they make such a fuss about… Well, you know. Ulios and man-dilly.”

Pal became serious. “Maybe that’s why things are messed up. If grown men are so nervous about such a simple thing, how do they ever expect to understand more important things?”

Iz took a quick sip of water. “I don’t care what you call it. I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care if it’s circumcised. I would trade it all in right now for a big, cold frosty bottle of Coca-Cola.”

The boys nodded in holy agreement. Then they sat in silence, a bit uncomfortable over their discussion, but also wiser from what they learned.

The heat pressed down as the time passed. There was a great temptation to change sips into gulps, but amazing restraint was maintained. They breathed deeply, looking at the surrounding desert.

Never would they ever have such experiences again.

Never would friendship be so precious.

Never would it ever be so hot.


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Cracked 5 … February 9th, 2019

 


Jonathots Daily Blog

(3951)

Cracked 5

Other Things Mueller Could Investigate

 A. Why the McRib mysteriously disappears from the McDonald’s menu from time to time.

 

 B. Where is that permanent record my high school principal said would be following me?

 

 C. Why are there still clowns and mimes?

 

 D. Where is rock ’n roll?

 

 E. An ancient quandary—why are Trix just for kids?

Robert Mueller


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Sit Down Comedy …February 8th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog

(3950)


The Alphabet of Weight Loss

A  need for change

B  uy it

C  ry it

D  iet

E  Gads, this sucks

F  ry it

G  ain it

H  ate it

I   am looking pregnant

J   esus, take the spoon and fork!

K  ale fail

L  ose, then cruise

M unch

N  estles

O  no, here we go

P  oints

Q  ueasy

R  unning

S  lipping

T  urnover (apple)

U  are not the biggest loser

V  itamins

W eird, it is

X  tra weight hiding

Y   is my scale lying?

Zzz I need a napDonate Button

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3 Things … February 7th, 2019

 


Jonathots Daily Blog

(3949)

7 deady sins

That Just Might Be Unpardonable

1. Insisting: There is no sin

 

2. Preaching: That people are sinners, going to hell

 

3. Claiming: I don’t sin


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Drawing Attention … February 6th, 2019

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3948)

Bloweth/Oboe

(tap the picture to see the video)

art by smarrttie pants

Music: Bloweth by Jonathan Richard Cring


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Published in: on February 6, 2019 at 1:49 pm  Comments (1)  
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