This was submitted by Alan Remington from Anchorage, Alaska.

If you used every letter in the alphabet and put it in front of “Lucky!!!”, remove the “L”, that dog would come to you. Funny,
huh. She’d even come to “Car key”. It didn’t matter to her. Insults and lies will offend no dog. Especially Lucky. Food-whore from the very start. If you had something in your hands, she assumed it was food and she was entitled to it. Perfect for after-dinner clean up. Slip the plates down onto the floor and let her go. Lucky was in heaven.

By the beginning of July, if you haven’t gotten your line wet yet, what are you waiting for? Most of Alaska is in a hub-bub getting to the water. If you are unfortunate enough to still be sorting out all your gear from last year, you are not alone. Keep after it. It’ll make sense after a while. The tents set up in driveway aren’t staying there, they’ve just been water-proofed.

And Dan and Clyde arrived last night from Arizona. Clyde loves to fish and who doesn’t. Especially here. Land of the midnight sun. The most perfect campsite in the world. It doesn’t matter what time you start to get ready for fishing or what time it is when you leave or what time it is when you finally get there. The midnight sun is enough light to set up camp.

We rolled all the tents over to finish drying and I noticed Dan and Clyde over beside the garage. Looks like they’re bent over something or working on something together. “What’s that?”, I said. Clyde lifts her head, “salmon eggs”. Dan never moved. He was concentrating so hard. As I approached I saw they were trying to find a nice flat spot to set the 2 flats of freshly brined eggs. So they settled for an appropriate spot together.

They both seemed to enjoy each other’s company. And the eggs looked almost good enough to eat, but of course, do not!!!!!!!

As the day progresses, the gear that once lined the driveway has slowly been removed. By now, folks are beginning to wind-down for the day, after all it’s 11:00pm. It’s so easy to lose track of time. The television is on but no one listens. Company is wonderful; “Oh shit”!, says Clyde. “We left the eggs outside”! So, out the door they go to get the eggs and are right back just as quick.

I know Clyde is proud of all her work on those eggs. I can see it in her face. She looks at me and asked if I had moved the eggs………. Like I had. I said no and she’s not believing me, I can tell. After some discussion, everyone went outside to find the eggs. By the book, as they say, and still no eggs. Everyone is intrigued with the mystery.

We had to abandon the search until morning when daylight might reveal more. And it did. The best spot for the eggs was up on top of the snow machine trailer…. high enough to keep Lucky off. She’s so old, she struggles going up stairs and has to take a break on the way up. Evidence showed drag marks on the deck and the color was right. I decided to go find Lucky.

Perhaps she did get the eggs and if so, my God, she’ll die. Peering inside her mouth and around her gums didn’t help. Her gums were pink………. “Never fear”., I said. “Lucky will show us whether she ate the eggs or not…..later today or tomorrow, right, Lucky”?

Just like clock work, she showed us. Pink, pink, not so pink, everywhere you looked. “guilty as charged!”. She had eaten the 2 flats alright. Her stomach was growling long rolling grumbles. Passing gas was ongoing anyway but she really didn’t seem to be acting any differently. It was obvious she was hungry. I can’t figure out how she got on the trailer. Food whore.

Lucky came with the house. Indeed. The previous owners didn’t want her any more and would have taken her to the pound. Outdoors year round, house training was a long struggle and eventually she figured it out. At 5 or 6 yrs. old, training was slow. We replaced the front door as well as changed “the swing”. It took Lucky a couple of weeks to figure it out. A week and a half for BJ. I was lucky, I installed it.

So , Lucky has been lucky. However, I prefer to think of her as “fortunate”.

Posted by Tom Remington

I found this little ditty in my inbox this morning I thought I’d share. Seems appropriate for the times.

While walking down the street one day a US senator is tragically hit by a truck and dies.

His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
‘Welcome to heaven,’ says St. Peter. ‘Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a high official around these parts, you see, so we’re not sure what to do with you.’

‘No problem, just let me in,’ says the man.

‘Well, I’d like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we’ll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you
can choose where to spend eternity.’

‘Really, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,’ says the senator.

‘I’m sorry, but we have our rules.’

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him.
Everyone is very happy and in evening dress. They run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people.

They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne.
Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes. They are having such a good time that before he realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises…
The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens on heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.

‘Now it’s time to visit heaven.’

So, 24 hours pass with the senator joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

‘Well, then, you’ve spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.’

The senator reflects for a minute, then he answers: ‘Well, I would never have said it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.’

So St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down to hell.
Now the doors of the elevator open and he’s in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage.
He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above.
The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder.

‘I don’t understand,’ stammers the senator. ‘Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there’s just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable. What happened?’

The devil looks at him, smiles and says, ‘Yesterday we were campaigning…… Today you voted.’

Tom Remington

As all of you probably already know, the New England Patriots lost in the Super Bowl yesterday, which you know led to a lot of tempers flaring. When that happens humans exude tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere raising the earth’s temperature. You know that the snow and ice of New England must be running down the drains today.

But I am here to tell you about my effort to keep my Super Bowl Sunday “green”.

When I wake up, my normal routine is to take a shower, shave, put on clean clothes, open up an ice cold bottle of Pepsi-Cola, sit down in front of my computer and begin reading emails. The Pepsi makes me burp and fart further adding to global warming and when I read my emails, which includes comments on this blog and others, I get mad often emitting huge quantities of hot air and releasing uncontrolled bursts of flatulence. But not this day.

I skipped my shower because I knew I would be saving water and using less hot water meant saving energy. To heck with any clean clothes, the dirty ones were good enough. I didn’t want to have to unnecessarily waste more water, energy and pollute the earth with soap from the washing machine.

I really didn’t know if antiperspirant was carbon friendly or not, so I took my solid stick out to my wife and stuck it under her nose to smell. “Does that smell like it’s carbon neutral to you?” I asked.

My perfect plan for having a super green Super Bowl Sunday began to go up in flames when my wife began screaming at me asking me what in the hell I thought I was doing. I told her to calm down before she killed another polar bear. Regardless, my wife didn’t really respond in a way that helped me to figure out about the antiperspirant, so I took matters into my own hands and used some simple logic.

I figured it this way. If I used the pit stop, I might actually over heat even if ever so slightly because I do know that the body acts like its own thermostat and regulates better when it sweats. I put the deodorant stick back in the bathroom, took a whiff under my arms and concluded that even though it wasn’t the most pleasant smell, I couldn’t help but think about the polar/grizzly hybrid bear that got shot a couple years ago because it seems that this never would have happened if I’d stopped using antiperspirant a long time ago.

I wanted awfully to use my new-at-Christmas Remington electric shaver because it’s so cool but as I reached for it, I was overcome with guilt. Think of the native brook trout in Northern Maine dying because the water’s now too warm. I looked in the mirror and once again utilized some rational thinking. “I’ve seen worse”, and I knew my friends would understand.

I thought some of going to the bathroom, you know a number two, that’s part of the morning routine, but I wondered if I held it in and tried to go only like twice a week if that would save a spotted owl? I pinched it off and went about my business.

Our plan for the day was to drive over to Plant City and go to the flea market, the farmer’s market, out to lunch and back to Plant City to watch the Super Bowl. My wife and I planned to travel to Plant City in our very green Toyota Corolla – 35 miles to the gallon. (Cue Kermit the Frog singing, “It’s not easy being green.”) Oh but it is……but wait. I had a better idea.

(In a low whisper so Al Gore doesn’t hear me.) I also own a Plymouth van, but wait, wait before you start demanding I pay fines and an extra carbon tax, I calculated out the carbon savings. Even though I would use more gas in my van than my Toyota, if I took it, everyone could ride with me and think of the gas I’d save. My, God! I just saved another baby seal!

Arriving in Plant City, I announced that we could all ride in my van but no unnecessary talking (carbon dioxide you know) and definitely no farting. I was still pinching real hard and by god everyone else could make some kind of sacrifice.

Traveling to the flea market, I remembered that the flea market and farmer’s market were about 4 miles apart by road. I suggested that we park someplace central and walk about two miles to the flea market, return to the van and walk the other two miles to the farmer’s market. If we did that, we could save another Chiricahua leopard frog. I think my friends weren’t seeing things my way. No wonder the earth is coming to an end. What, the 85-year old lady who walks with a cane can’t suck it up and “git-r-done”? Phhfit!

I want to tell you it is one hell of a sacrifice to walk around a flea market and the farmer’s market, a total of about 4 hours without farting at least once. I did drink a Pepsi at the farmer’s market and I had all I could do to keep from burping. I was sweating like an over worked butcher in August and I wasn’t feeling the love, brother.

I figured most everyone at the farmer’s market was right into saving our planet because I noticed they must be self-regulating their body temperatures too. Way to go Juan and Pablo.

I felt really badly and I knew I had to find a way of making up for the dent I put in our carbon footprint when everyone took a vote to go eat at Checkers – “You Gotta Eat”. But I got thinking about how PETA and others are saying we can help save the planet by going on a vegan diet. Part of the reason they say is because there are too many cows farting and pooping on this earth. Doesn’t it stand to reason that if we eat enough beef, we’ll kill off all the cows?

I filled my gastro-intestinal track with two double bacon cheddar burgers, fries and another Coke? I was feeling like I may explode.

Finally we made it back to our friends with at least 4 hours before kick off. Everyone decided to lay down and take naps but not me, mister. I know what can happen while you’re sleeping – uncontrolled seepages of methane gas and other things. I stayed awake being very conscious not to breathe heavily and debating how many plants and animals I would kill if I logged on to my friend’s computer on a Sunday.

I would guess I maintained about a carbon neutral level of emissions during the game. I had to eat again but I was careful what I consumed – mostly because I had to go to the bathroom real bad now. But all around me everyone was angry and yelling at the officials and saying awful, evil things about Ely Manning. I interrupted a couple times, having to yell to get their attention (yeah I know but critical moments require critical thinking), to tell them to calm down or they would be sure to kill a gray wolf in Pocatello, Idaho.

I remained very calm and said very little when Plaxico Burris caught the winning touchdown. It was actually a spiritual moment for me. I became one with the forests of the Amazon jungle. The truth is if I let it out I was really going to let it out.

I staggered home, setting my cruise control on 55 in order to save a Canada lynx and eased back into the high-back van seat to listen to my wife keep asking me why everyone around me was blowing their horns at us.

I settled into bed around 11:30 p.m. and hoped that morning would come very quickly, so I could go to the bathroom.

Tom Remington

This is so funny! Well, not really…….actually it is!

Terrorism takes on many disguises and in my opinion any worthless human being that would spend life’s valuable time finding ways to destroy another person’s computer, really have no better standing than the likes of Osama Bin Laden or any of his followers.

I received the virus on Friday (unsolicited), last and have been battling it ever since. I tried everything I could come up with to remedy the problem but was unsuccessful. I even followed the advice of some so-called virus experts who told me to shut down my computer and start it back up in Safe Mode. From there, run my virus scan software, at least three times, while completely disconnected from the Internet and that should do it.

It appeared that the virus was one that Norton could find, remove and then it would “regenerate” itself. Once in Safe Mode, I launched Norton 360 and lo and behold I get an error message, “Norton 360 will not operate in Safe Mode”. *&%#()&%^

Frustrated, I contacted Norton tech support and got the usual – not necessarily unique to Norton. I first instant messengered with someone named Naresh. Immediately I began recounting the 70s song, “Marakesh Express”, (excuse the spelling?) Then wondered if I was communicating with someone in Los Angeles or from the mountains of northern Pakistan.

It all happened too quickly and I new my problem wasn’t solved, when Naresh quickly gave me a link to some adware/spyware add-on software and sent me on my way. I downloaded it, ran more scans and stared at the same problem.

This morning, I couldn’t take it anymore. After voting and feeling as though the future of this country was looking bright because I single handedly cast a vote for the next president of the United States, I decided to contact Norton tech help again. This time I got Karun. Hmmmm? Afghanistan perhaps? India? Or Boston?

Karun passed the buck immediately and told me I needed an expert virus man. He would solve my problem. Enter Riji.

Feeling now as though I am a stranger in a foreign land, I began my instant messaging with Riji, doing the best I can to decipher is broken text (thank god they have a lot of cutnpaste answers). It wasn’t long before Riji determines that I have a virus. I wanted to ask him how much schooling he had that allowed him to so quickly diagnose my problem. Yikes! It gets better, er, uh, I mean worse.

Riji had the answer! I needed a real computer expert who could remove my virus immediately! Swell. Let’s “Git r Done”! Not so fast! Removing a virus of this sort requires a fee – Afghanis, Dinars, Guilders, Rupees, Dollars? VISA, the universal language.

I went about the process of paying in advance for services not yet rendered (yeah I know) and finally began a relationship with, are you ready for this? Renjith! No kidding. I was thinking, Jones, Brown or Smith perhaps. You know my last name is Remington so wouldn’t you think I would be a gun expert, or perhaps a shaver repairman, or design tires? Typewriters are unused these days, so forget that. Computer problems? Why not Mr. Toshiba himself? Who the hell is Norton anyway?

I sat at my desk watching the computer screen while Renjith, who I’m imagining must look like Sanjia (sp) (American Idol last season), moved the cursor on my computer screen from his computer who knows how many universes away. While watching, I once saw him click on “Yes” when asked if he was sure he wanted to reboot the computer now.

It was then I realized why they collected such information from me as my home phone number and a second back up number. I laughed out loud and watched wondering how long it would take before the phone would ring. This gave me a chance to think about what smartass thing I would say when I answered. “Joe’s Crab Shack! Can I take your order?” or this one I thought very seriously of doing, “McAfee Internet Security Systems. This is Shekerish. How may I help you today?”

Ring! It was Renjith. “Oops!” and I laughed.

One of the problems that come with this virus was the continued onslaught of pop up advertisements. I virtually never use Internet Explorer as I would age at least one whole month while I waited for each new window to open. Plus the fact that I don’t think Bill Gates gets out enough these days. With all his money he probably has become so isolated he doesn’t realize pond scum are spending all their time creating worms, viruses, trojans and any other name you can call these things. I’ll bet these guys who make up this stuff could land humans on the moon but the ones who fix them couldn’t.

Needless to say, I have a very low opinion of Internet Explorer and have been using Mozilla Firefox for several years now. The problem I had was every time I opened a new window in my browser, Internet Explorer would open up pop up ads. It’s bad enough that the dang ads would pop up but combine that with IE which takes three 12-oz Corona beers and a small bag of Lays potato chips to open. (I learned how to measure distance in beers from an old drunk I knew back in my hometown in Maine.)

Finally, Renjith announces in our little chat room world, “Tom, I have removed virus. Computer is good now!” The problem I had was reading the message that kept getting pushed behind as each successive pop up ad pasted itself onto my computer screen.

“Really!” I exclaimed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” wrote Renjith. “You have a clean computer now!”

“But, Renjith, my brother!” I furiously typed on the keyboard. “What the hell are these pop up ads still devouring my computer screen?”

“Ooops!”

Remember the Bill Cosby story about going into the operating room at the hospital? He tells of laying there on the table having only local anesthesia and listening to the conversation:

“Scalpel!”

“Clamp”

“Scalpel”

“Clamp”

“Sponge”

“Scalpel”

“Ooops!”

That’s something you don’t want to hear coming from your surgeon. I can assure you Renjith was no surgeon and was beginning to wonder if there were like a couple of guys sitting around in a small room in Bangladesh laughing at me. They got my $100 and I got a “clean computer” that is producing pop up ads faster than a half-million rabbits on a rabbit farm can produce offspring.

“Let me try something else,” was his plea.

I went about my business of staring at the computer screen hoping maybe I could pick up a few pointers – NOT!

Another two hours pass. Pop up ads are still hitting the screen and Renjith tells me my problem is with Internet Explorer. That, of course doesn’t surprise me but I’m also having a hard time believing that he knows what he’s doing and he appears to be very anxious to end the session and go get some raw fish or something with my $100.

In the most professional manner, he tells me I need to stop using IE, uninstall it from my computer and never use it again if I don’t have to.

For those of you who are still using Internet Explorer, visit Mozilla Firefox and download your own version today.

I must report that I removed IE and so far, I am pop up free. Renjith for president……of what I don’t know!

Now to get caught up and back on track.

Tom Remington

Tom Remington

The other day I brought you a story about some groups wishing to turn northern Maine into a giant national park and or make millions of acres of land designated at National Heritage Areas. Friend and fellow writer, David Crews, pointed me to this video I thought would be appropriate to share with you.

Tom Remington

Yesterday aired the fourth Open Air broadcast and I had some fun. I played a bit of a DJ while spinning a few of Maine humorist Joe Perham’s CDs and telling a tale or two of my own. I had fun and I think you will enjoy the stories as well.

Here are your options. You can stream the audio right here by clicking on the player button below or you can go to this link and select the October 4, 2007 show date to either listen to on your own computer’s media player or you can right-click and save it to play at a later time.

[AUDIO:http://www.skinnymoose.com/downloads/openair10-4.mp3]

Tom Remington

Boing Boing tells us that in Southern China spa treatments entail sitting in water filled with a tiny fish that feeds on dead skin cells. Sounds great, huh? Check out the story. It comes complete with photo.

And you thought fish were only good for catching.

Tom Remington

Rod Davis sent me this video of more of Bill Dance’s bloopers and video outtakes. Hope you enjoy.

Tom Remington

The Newshound, J.R. Absher, covers the story of a father and son out for a day of fishing, get attacked by a robber and the father wards off the robber with his fishing pole.

Tom Remington

Ah, It’s a tough life sometimes but somebody’s got to do it.

Tom Remington

I know my sense of humor will get me into trouble on this one. According to a little ditty I read this morning from the United Press International, a company called AquaOne Technologies has invented an aquarium that doubles as a toilet – a flush. It’s called “Fish-n-Flush”.

Don’t get nervous, at least not yet, the aquarium tank is separate from the toilet tank so when you need to flush the contents of the aquarium don’t go down the drain BUT, at least it will make disposing of the dead fish that always end up belly-up in the water, one step closer. Oh, man! I know I shouldn’t have said that, even if it is true.

Tom Remington