Fevered Brain?

Dear Rev. Jack,

What is this dread that grips my fevered brain?

Whither Honky Chow?

Dear Reverend,

I am attending a "Hillbilly Tapas" gathering in the near future.

I'm flummoxed. What do these sort of people eat (other than their young)?

Should you prepare foods that are semi-solid, owing to their lack of teeth?

Can you pick while not grinning? Or the other way around?

And, finally, is "Nascar" a noun? Or a compliment on a wound that is healing nicely?

Whither Superiority?

Dear Reverend Jack,

Now that I'm the Oktoberfest Yodeling Queen, I've found that my previous acquaintances are... Lacking.

I'm so much more wonderful than them now.

How do I leave them in my dust without them writing a tell-all book about me?

Thanks for the advice. Oh, and this will be my last correspondence. You're one of the little people now.

Whither Pablum?

Dear Rev. Jack,

My daughters want to be Disney Princesses for Halloween. The very idea makes me want to vomit.

I was able to talk the younger one into being a black cat, but my older daughter is being stubborn.

I am taking them costume shopping today in hopes of changing the older one's mind, because I know if SHE insists on being a Disney Princess, the younger one will, as well.

I am strongly opposed to the watering down of Halloween from a fun, scary, dark holiday into something sanitized and wimpy. I am also opposed to licensed character costumes in general, and Disney Princesses in particular. Should I bow to their wishes, or stand my ground?

Dear Rev. Jack

Where do broken hearts go?

Sometimes Words Hurt...

Do you think I hurt SYSM's feelings when I told him to "Shut it?"



Well, he insulted ME first!

I'll say sorry if he does.

Whither Evil!?

Dear Reverend Jack,

Is it bad that I wish bad things happen to good people?

Captin Poppy Pants

Whither Potty Talk?

So, I have this blog. On my blog, I have a button which magically allows visitors to send me an instant message.

A few days ago, I received an IM from someone who identified herself as a 12-year-old girl.

I have posted naughty words, like the F word and referring to my sister-in-law as Cuntzilla, which didn't concern me before but now that I know kids are reading I'm tempted to censor myself.

What should I do?

My New Livingroom!

Simply fantastisch!!

Mrs. Robinson Asks...

Dear Rev. Jack,

My boss is always trying to make me feel stupid by telling me that I don't understand things etc. He will tell me to do something and then when I do it the way he told me he tells me I did it wrong. I was on vacation for a week and when I came back I found out that they were hiring someone else to do most of my job description. I want to send a letter to the board of directors but not sure of what I need to say. My question is:

Why are hemorrhoids called "hemorrhoids" instead of "asteroids"?

Whither Underpants?

Dear Reverend Jack,
I recently reconnected with a industry colleague that I had a minor hook-up
with many years ago. I was young and handled the post-hook up poorly
(basically I ignored the incident completely.) I regretted the way I handled
it since I really liked this woman as a friend and thought she might think
badly of me.
So we are going to get together with a third friend (Alphonso,) for drinks
and catch up. I've fully disclosed the past and present situation to my
wife. My question is this; Do I wear a thong or go commando?

A Little Barnett(e) History

Courtesy of my father, Rev. Jack Sr.:

This Thursday will be my father's 99th birthday. My Dad, Carl
Henrickson
Barnette, was born on October 6, 1906 in Henry Township, Fulton County,
Indiana. The farm he was born on was about 3 miles from Athens....
Indiana. My father was the fourth of 5 brothers. Ed was born in 1900,
Ross in 1902, Dean in 1904, Dad in '06, and Joe in 1908. No girls. We
didn't allow girls in the Barnette family until my niece was born in
1978, and my daughter, Beth, in 1981 (Let's not forget grandaughter Lucie in 2000 Rv, Jack).

My Grandmother was born in Indiana in 1880. Her name was Adda Glenn
Henrickson. She was always known as "Glenn." She was the one who added
the "E" to the name to made it seem a little more dignified. She was a
fairly tough woman who lived into her 90's. She had to be tough being
a
farm wife and trying to raise five wild, barefoot boys at the same
time.
My grandfather, Joseph Burge Barnett, was born in 1872. He was a
cowboy
for a while, and fought in the Spanish-American War. I'm not sure if
he
actually "fought," but he wore a uniform and carried a gun during that
time. For most of his live, he was a farmer, working a small farm
outside of Rochester...Indiana. All farms were organic farms in those
days...maybe that's why those Barnette's all lived so long. Uncle Dean
was a little over 100 when he died, and my uncle Joe is still going
strong at 97. He still lives in Indiana, by the way.

My great Grandfather, Michael Isaac Barnett, was born in Indiana in
1840. He served in the Union Army during the Civil War. He was shot
in
the chest with a rebel musketball, and after that, spent some time as a
confederate prisoner of war. In spire of that, he lived until 1916. My
Dad remembers his funeral. He's buried in the Barnett Cemetery,
between
Kewanee and Grass Creek...Indiana.

The first car that my Grandfather owned was a 1915 Maxwell. The
family's
first radio was purchased in 1926. My father picked up his first date
in
a horse and buggy. For the first 15 or 20 years of his live, Dad had a
lot more experience with horse drawn plows and wagons than he did with
cars and tractors. Wells and outdoor plumbing were a way of life. With
no television or radio for the first 20 years of his life, no wonder my
Dad is so good at horseshoes, and checkers, and cards. He was 2 the
last time the Cubs won a World Series, and 9 when the Sox last won.

In 1994, when he was still relatively young, he took the steam ship QE2
to Europe to participate in the 50th anniversary of D-Day. He took part
in the Battle of Antwerp and the Battle of the Bulge. He served for a
while as a liaison to the British army.

I was born at the Lying-in- Dispensary at the University of Chicago.

In 1946, my Dad got me a toy peddle car (very rare at that time of
shortages) at the Sears store at Irving and Cicero. We lived at Roslyn
and Clark at the time. He had to carry the box on two streetcars -
through the snow - to get it home. He and my uncle "Chich" (his real
name was Frank), worked late into the night to put the car together.
The
car was great, but if I remember correctly, I had more fun playing with
the empty box. At any rate, Happy Birthday Dad. (Gramps, Rv. Jack)

Me again: The pics are of Sgt Carl H. Barnette at a shooting gallery in Antwerp, 1944 on the eve of the Battle of the Bulge and the one on the left is my grandfather being 'arrested' by the local gendarmerie in Normandy (arranged by my uncle Randy).

xoxo Rev. Jack

Whither Pancake Contest?

I have another moral quandry for you.

I could win a $25,000 kitchen makeover from Hungry Jack (any relation?)
by
writing a fawning essay about why the Ubers are "A Hungry Jack Family."

Now, at times we've purchased Hungry Jack pancake mix if it was on
sale. I
don't think this makes us a "Hungry Jack Family," but I can embellish
it,
given the fact I used to write ad copy and press releases and such for
a
living.

My question is, would it be unethical to exaggerate the extent of our
"Hungry Jackness" in order to win a kitchen makeover, or, since they
would
be using my essay as an advertising ploy anyway, would it simply be
compensation for writing ad copy as I have received in the past?

I know you're busy but the contest deadline is December 1, 2005, so a
reply
before that date would be appreciated.

Cabbage Crates coming over the briny I've been reading about the Battle of Britain in 1940 and have now decide to speak as much as I can in that cool, British fighter pilot slang.

I've been reading about the Battle of Britain in 1940 and have now decide to speak as much as I can in that cool, British fighter pilot slang.

Dear Reverend Jack

I have an ugly free-standing basketball hoop in my yard leftover from
my
house's previous owners. The only use I have found for it thus far has
been
as a prop for Halloween decorations.

Last year I put a witch in the hoop, as if she had fallen from the sky
and
landed in the hoop.

This year, I plan on putting a disembodied head in the net, with a
headless
body underneath. Two points!

I have three questions for you:

1. Should I buy an actual head, or do you think a rubber mask over a
sphere-like object would suffice for the head?

2. Should I strap the body to the pole so it is standing upright, or
have
it lying prone on the ground?

3. Should I keep the ugly, rusting basketball pole, given its once a
year
usefulness, or remove it?

I thank you for your time and consideration.

WWEJD?

Whatcha gonna do when 'Mr. Anonymous' comes a runnin' after you ?!