Freddogg Off The Chain

A KFC was torched during recent riots in Islamabad prompting a country wide Ad Campaign "Extremist Fried Chicken."



Benazir Bhutto sounds like a cold remedy that makes you drowsy rather than a front page Assassination in Pakistan story that will put you to sleep. George Carlin said that disastrous events are only fun if they happen close to home but no one gives a dam about what happens ten thousand miles away. Only if the American government integrated a current events test with access to NFL games on cable would America begin to pay attention to chaotic events in foreign lands that end with the words “Nuclear Weapons.” We may as well throw in a Breathalyzer because we wouldn’t want anyone testing under the influence.

Bhutto was a rich and corrupt former leader who wore red lipstick-I found her to be from the obnoxious and privileged class but she just had to come back and challenge incumbent Pervez Musharraf who is the laser mouse vibrating in the front pocket of the American CIA.

Here’s a paragraph that sums it up. “"We have the evidence that Al Qaeda and Taliban were behind the suicide attack on Benazir Bhutto," Interior Minister Hamid Nawaz said in Islamabad.

And so who cares about any of this and the answer is "Nuclear Weapons in the hands of 150 million Raiders of the Lost Ark exotic street dancers?" Would a country drop a nuclear weapon on itself? Remember riots in American cities when out of control mobs burned down their own neighborhoods?

Huckleberry Hound or whatever the name of that Baptist Republican seeking the presidential nomination said American needs to secure its borders from Pakistanis trying to sneak into the country. You can tell Huckabee doesn’t have local liquor stores programmed into his Geo positioning car Tom Tom.

Listen to the presidential candidates discuss this crises on the world stage and you quickly realize they are just as clueless as the rest of us.

I heard Hilary going off about how she was friends with “Benazir” for a dozen years and my gut reaction was “Shut up you multi millionaire bitch” because the rest of us never heard of her and we don’t care.’”

I can just see high school teachers across American trying to teach this complicated scenario to the “game boy” generation.

Strike up a conversation with an educated friend and you will quickly realize that neither of you know shit about the dynamics of world events but you know the Holiday Bowl schedule and when the first round of the NFL playoffs begin.

Freddogg

I grew up in the early fifties on World War 11 movies and it almost cost me my freedom. I could have gotten life in prison when I was 9 years old.
I had seen the trick so many times in movies I just had to try it. A dirt road that connected my new street to the old street of the town and a boy on a bike named Tommy Cathers playing the part of the German Officer on a motor cycle.
Down the road Cathers flew on his J.C. Higgins 24 inch cruiser with knobbed tires and rusted fenders.
I hid in the scrub vegetation and raggedy half dead trees. I was a Boy Scout flunky who cheated to become Second Class. I didn’t know a sheep shank from a clove hitch and still don’t.
Cathers came peddling by and I pulled the rope tight across the road. It caught Cathers chest high and he crashed dramatically, emphatically and instantly. It was slapstick funny and very cruel. A foot higher and it would have taken his head off. I was the Manchurian Candidate of Grade B war movies.
I have never thanked god over my long life for a made basket, home run, touchdown run or new car like some evangelical moron but my entire life I have been a Grateful Fred for not beheading a boy on a bike when I was nine which I believe means no in German.
And if you think Bugs Bunny is not responsible for many serious injuries think again. Even today I don’t walk through an open doorway into a room without sticking my arm out for pan faced protection.

Peace

Captain Freddogg

I read on a radio website-I am a bottom feeder-that a public school student was busted for marijuana personal possession amount while another student was arrested for dealing because he sold a Ritalin pill to a buddy. How is this news worthy?
Did you know that Ritalin stimulates the self control center of the brain-hyperactive maniacs can’t inhibit spontaneous behaviors- but if you don’t need it you just get this incredible focus in case you’re a teenage boy who must spend three hours taking the SAT in a room filled with a least a few pretty girls ripe for sexual fantasies.
Back in 1984 one of my senior students was in a coma at the local hospital because the afternoon before another one of my students sold him eight pills for eight dollars. The hypoactive barely conscious during his most alert moments Jimmy took all eight pills on the way home employing the Warren Zevon philosophy of “I’d rather feel bad that feel nothing at all.”
“Jimmy The Ingester” got home and proceeded to fly around the kitchen slamming himself into the screen door like a yellow jacket in the waning moments of his life cycle. And just before Jimmy crashed into the produce aisle of awareness he told his mother that he swallowed eight pills given to him by “Henry the Percolator.”
Jimmy had swallowed so much caffeine-'the dumb ass took them all" Henry asked that his autonomic response system shut down because it couldn’t keep up, knowing there was no way Jimmy could talk for two straight days.
It was touch and go-comas are wise like that-but Jimmy came back from wherever his lazy ass had gone to wait it out.
And one afternoon at 1:30 during the last period of a school day he decided to come back and re-enter and resume his life and not surprisingly he choose my class.
Jimmy walked in the door in the back of the room and slowly walked to the front and sat down. There was not a sound because high school kids have never seen post comatose guy before. They all just stared and I played the silence like a deaf drummer just watching Jimmy adjust himself into his seat. And then I spoke.
“Pepsi Free, what is up?”
That June when the yearbook came out there was Jimmy’s graduation picture and underneath his name it said “Pepsi Free”. He had proudly adopted the nickname.
I was shopping for plastic items of low quality last week at the Dollar Tree store and there was the 40 year old manager running a register with an expressionless face making no eye contact with anyone.
He grabbed my catnip rodent with his left hand without looking up. “I wanted Pepsi Free but I’ll settle for this mouse, ”I said.
The guy never looked up. “How’s it going Fredman?”
Pepsi Free is cool like that.

Postscript- "Henry the Percolator" was expelled from school for being in possession of drugs while riding a school bus while Pepsi Free was allowed to return because he didn’t take possession and go coma kid until he got off the bus. That was a big issue 20 years ago.

The hand and the holy man-the lord protects no one from heathen humor.
I had a flashback to football camp 1963 and I was a silent leader revolting against a staff who wanted us to be more enthusiastic like the West Catholic team that was also in the camp at Delaware Valley College.
Father Fidelis Weber. A tanned a fit priest who wore glasses came into our dorm room to broker the piece. About five of us were just hanging about and somehow Christ and the Apostles were used as a comparison to a high school football team.
The Fidelis visit was unexpected and as he continued to preach he noticed we were more distracted than usual because over his shoulder hanging on a closet door was a five foot cardboard skeleton with movable limbs and John Kerr had adjusted the right arm and hand so it looked like the skeleton was saying ‘I got your skeleton right here!”
I finally changed from resenting the “stupidness of spirited practices” to laughing at the incongruity of the situation as that skeleton looked more and more like he had all the answers.
Later in the first Catholic League game in school history I drove a defender to his back in the endzone looked down at him and said, “Bless you son and I’ve got your skeleton right here!”
God populated the earth with props and said ‘Go forth and use them creatively in a propagating sort of way.’
Hey I’m late for mass!

Father Freddogg

LOS ANGELES —
Floyd Red Crow Westerman, an American Indian activist, actor and folk singer who appeared in "Dances with Wolves" and performed with Willie Nelson and other musicians, has died. He was 71.


Native Philadelphians like me have our own phylum of animal pronunciations and there’s nothing I can do about it except to respond to “what did you say? by saying the same thing over again.
Like the time I asked a class if they saw the movie ‘Dances with Wuffs.” One high school girl looked at me and asked, “Wuff? What’s a Wuff?”

You know, one wuff-many wuffs?”

“I believe it’s wolves,” she said.
Another time I was telling a joke about the stranded guy in the dessert seeing a mirage that comes into focus .It is Joseph pulling Mary who is riding on a “dunkey” and the punch line is “is your little baby named Jesus “? and Mary says, ”what do you think we are Puerto Rican? “but my Suseex County audience was riveted on “dunkey” like, “what’s a dunkey?”
Go to the philly zoo and many wild animals have the initial short vowel dropped and it needs to be dropped which is why it is short.
The is the draff, the grella, kwalla, tager, lepperd , monky, wail and pola bear. You can buy a bloon and give it to Uncle Cholly.
Your aunt looks like a hippo and "freak you and the Rhino you rode in on." In Philly, the Rhino is beloved and worshiped a sacred cow like your hippo aunt.

Peace

A gay man was following me around Gold’s Gym this morning and I know I’m sexually attractive to all those totally crossed out-or not- but I was having a bad hair day so I turned and said ‘What do you want?”
I overheard you say you were interested in trying “The Queer” so I’d though I’d offer and I said, No, I said ‘The Clear’ you know like in steroid scandal and he began to ask me how long I liked to cycle and I told him 30 minutes with a IPOD but he was talking anabolically not aerobically.
Later at Wawa it was dirt bag hard rock multiple pierced in the face heroin looking low self esteem gay guy holding a small dog that was a cross between a Yorkie and a Cairn Terrier? The dog had a red bow in its fur between the ears and started to growl at me like it meant it and so I went black girl on the guy.
“I wish that Chucky Gooney sorry assed looking lap dog would bite me! I’m praying he bite me. I’ll be on him like Mike Vick on a car battery. He’ll fly into the deli counter like Clemens’ chin music. I’m on him like Sammy on a Dominican chicken. I will smother him like a Bonds skull cap.
And I finally wrapped it up; I’ll be on him like the Mozambique Mauler, Maria Matola on Marion Jones in the shower after a sub two minute 800 meters run 10 thousand feet above sea level at the equator.
My imagdry sometimes gets the best of me.

Peace Freddogg

Thank you for signing up for Test Prep Review's Praxis I Test Question of the Day email service. These questions are provided by Morrison Media, who publishes the Praxis I Test Secrets Study Guide and Praxis I Test Flashcard Secrets, both proven methods to help you get the results you want on the Praxis I Test.

Today's question concerns Mathematics.

The question/task is below:

When the science group containing six children leaves the main class once a week for special instruction, the science teacher lines up the students and leads them to the science room. How many different ways can the teacher line up the six children?

1. 15
2. 30
3. 36
4. 720
5. 46,656

Scroll down for the answer:















Answer
D. 720

This is a factorial problem.
6! = 6 * 5 * 4 * 3 * 2 * 1
6! = 720, answer choice D.


Now give each child a name inside a circle with ears and show all 720 combinations and if you finish you are an idiot with OCD orOPP 720 different ways because who is going to check it besides another idiot. The math may work but there is no way if you live forever you can line up 6 people 720 different ways because if that is true maybe football coaches and their 11 on 11 game really are geniuses?
Life is all about riddles and obscure vocabulary words. There should be a penitentiary for Permutating Praxis Professors.

"I'm out like a striped ass bird." Philly salutation



freddogg

White people who were never cool are behind a testing conspiracy that fosters an elitist society which doesn’t affect me on either side of the social stratum divide but it hurts plenty of people everyday holding them to standards that flat out don’t matter.
I know a young man who struggles with reading and writing. He went to college passed all his classes and wants to be a Phys Ed teacher. He is a physical specimen, lives a healthy lifestyle and is just a good person. But he can’t pass some yahoo reading and writing test called the Praxis-we talking Praxis- that allows him to student teach so he can get a job.

I have offered to help him so I secured A practice praxis-we talking praxis-tests and everyday I’m sent a sample test question and everyday because I’ve been a relentless writer all my life I get stuff wrong because I know how to capitulate and castigate but the word cant just isn’t in my vocabulary.
Check out today’s question then all the successful people who read my shit tell me the meaning of these words just rolled off your tongue like a glazed donut off a resin table.






Describe the following words: cant, capacious, capitulate, captious, castigate.
Scroll down for the answer:














Answer:
cant: To talk in a singsong, preaching tone with affected solemnity.
capacious: Roomy.
capitulate: To surrender or stipulate terms.
captious: Hypercritical.
castigate: To punish.

Sorry I guess I’m being captious here but really how many ways can a Physical Education teacher say, ”Roll out the balls.”?

FReddogg

“Yo man, where you at?”

I was just reflecting on my lifelong trait of being creative then dumb in the same moment. I am not gullible, just situationally stupid.
Last December I was trying to find a battered women’s shelter in a town called Milford where the coach and members of a high school basketball were passing Christmas cookies to citizens at a shelter for battered women without gun permits. The coach called me on the cell,”Yo man, where you at?’ I responded “I be at the tire store and if the shelter ain't underneath one of the bays I’m in the wrong place I be guessin all up in here know what I'm sayin?”
I am so stupid, that I couldn’t find the place, and stupid enough to think it was a photo opportunity.
”yes I get my ass kicked every holiday, please take my picture for the community newspaper so my husband knows “where I’m at.”
Later in a town called Milton we were allowed inside a homeless shelter where some residents were watching Hogan’s Heroes on a black and white television.
One guy slouched on a metal chair said,”oh look, a paper plate stacked with Christmas tree cookies with green and red sprinkles. My life is about to take a turn for the better.”
He was a homeless smartass and why not? We always think people down on their luck are going to be appreciative of gifts given by those more fortunate.
How happy are you if Christmas carolers show up on your front step. You stand and smile, freezing your butt off, and think ”Hark the Hair balled angels sing-what do it mean? and if they go three songs deep looking like the spiritually anointed and chosen people you send a grandchild who's reading is up to grade level with instructions “it’s the brown bottle with the name Jack on the front.”
I will visit some of my former students serving long prison sentences-does life count-because my mother told me to do that 50 years ago saying ’some friends you have yet to make will go to prison for a mistake. Make sure to visit them over the holidays.”
How did she know that?
I’ll make sure to bring my camera.
Freddogg

When all else, fails break out the Elephant impression. Last Friday morning I was a guest in a first grade classroom in Milton, Delaware because my neighbor Haley made her teacher Julie, a former student of mine, invite me.

I wrote my name on the wax board Fredman and below that wrote Freddogg. They choose to call me freddogg and thought that was so cool.

Each kid read a journal entry to me and showed me the art work to go with it. Julie had a small microphone that projected and amplified their voices. The first time a kid used it I thought he had a tracheotomy and laryngectomy from too much smoking.

It is almost impossible for me not to wisecrack, it is just who I am, so I had to inhibit myself because what does a six year old understand about jokes? But more on that later.

A cute little girl-as opposed to big fat ugly overgrown hairy wart faced girl-read a story about her family dog dying. It was so precious and afterwards I said, ’Anna look at me. Don’t ever do that again! I did not come here to cry.” Then she showed me a misshapen drawing with this big fat body and little head and I said, ’No wonder your dog died he ate the living room couch and the television. And shouldn't he be on his back with his four legs pointed up in the air?’ Anna was way beyond lamenting the demise of a way gone dog she just liked the fact I was sparring with her.

And then Julie had me read them a story and I felt like George Bush in Fahrenheit 451. It was about a family who went to the zoo to pick up a newborn instead of the hospital. They kept bringing home different animal babies and it was so stupid I kept embellishing it and saying things like “what is wrong with these idiots and why is the baby elephant standing in the parking lot and they asked why and I said because he locked his keys in his truck and they started chanting “Joke! Joke! Joke!” tell us jokes and I said “You guys are only six what do you know from jokes” and honest to god this one kid says ”we know you ain’t funny” and I responded “Oh yea it’s not like I’m getting paid so somebody give me a dollar and they all yelled “No”!

When I was leaving I challenged them to an elephant impression elimination survivor contest. I won because I was clearly the best. I had to do several encore elephants which was drawing a bewildered crowd of students and teachers in the hallway.

Upon leaving I was attacked like a big tree in the middle of the room, kids of all colors and shapes hanging on me saying,” Don’t go Freddogg, we love you!”

I told Julie the teacher, ”I have no idea why little kids like me because quite frankly if they didn’t I wouldn’t mind.”
“They like you because you talk to them,”she said. They can sense a connection.”

You know it is true children just know if you are for real.

Freddogg