I'm WHAT?!!?

I've done something like this before...searched the World Wide Wackfest for my name and a verb and published the sometimes goofy results. There has been "Dewey is" and "Dewey should" and "Dewey has" and Dewey wants" and "Dewey needs". Dewey, Dewey, Dewey ad nauseam.

I got thinking about those posts today (WARNING! Thinking is a seldom-attempted activity that may result in global catastrophe.), and wondered, "What would result from a search for my whole name?"

Thus, the grand investigation into "Dewey Roth is" was born.

• Dewey Roth is a real property lessor located in Cairo, Nebraska. [As opposed to a fake one]
• Dewey Roth is a private company categorized under Farm Land Leasing and located in Cairo, NE. [So, this guy has company-ized our name...clever.]
• Report for Dewey Roth is now available. [...for the small fee of $29.99.]
• Dewey Roth is an active United States & Territories grain, feed, hay carrier operating under United States Department of Transportation (USDOT) Number....
• My friend/mentor Dewey Roth is one of the funniest people I know. [Okay, this one really is about me and appears in The Disney Freak's Blog.]
• Mrs. Dewey Roth is general chairman for the affair. [I certainly hope MY Mrs. Dewey Roth isn't involved in an affair.]
• Mrs. Dewey Roth is chairman of the carnation sale. [Wow. This gal gets around.]
• Based on our current records, Dewey Roth is living in a Single Family Home, and is Probably a Home Owner. Our data also shows [sic] that Dewey's approximate age is somewhere betweeen 76 and Up. ["Up" is now an age? Or is that a euphemism for "Death"? In either case, this ain't me, babe.]
• Dewey Roth is on Sysoon. Personal death notice and detailed information about the deceased person. [Apparently, I've missed my own funeral.]
• Dewey Roth is living in United States. [Oh, come on...make up your mind, Internet!]
• Dewey Roth is on Facebook. [Well...I will be as soon as I post this, because yeah...I pretty much live there.]

You Won't Be Able To Unsee This

I have no idea where I stole this, who created it, or whether it will scar you for life...but it still makes me laugh.

Be warned...there will be blood.

Happy Triskaidekaphobia Day!

13 reasons to stay in bed all day. Number 7 will make your ears fall off!

1)  Facebook is still letting all those idiotic people who don't agree with your politics post idiotic and non-factual articles from that website run by disagreeable, non-factual idiots.

2)  Your smartphone has more bacteria on it than your toilet seat.

3)  A black cat just walked under a ladder.

4)  Disney may be attempting a reboot of the Indiana Jones film franchise.

5)  There's a snake in the sewer lines under your house.

6)  Pretty sure that green, fuzzy thing in your fridge has started throbbing.

7)  Justin Bieber is releasing a new song today.

8)  Valentine chocolate won't go on clearance until Sunday.

9)  Your cable just went out.

10)  Kim Kardashian.

11)  Fred Basset is still being published.

12)  There's a bad moon on the rise.

13)  Your identity got stolen, but they lost interest and gave it back.

Dented Fender? WHAT Dented Fender?

It was late at night. I had closed and cleaned the local pizza shop I worked at during my Junior year of high school and was beginning my drive home when something caught my eye out the driver's side window of the Plymouth Fury 3 I had inherited when my parents bought a new car.

Being a decidedly inexperienced driver, when I turned my head left to see what the something was, I overcompensated my steering and veered right...resulting in a glancing blow to the rear left quarter-panel of a car parked along the residential street I was on.

Did.
Not.
Even.
Slow.
Down.

I was so freaked out. I carefully drove the five miles to our family homestead on a little 40-acre plot of farmland, parked in our gravel driveway and quietly slipped into the house without even looking at what I imagined to be irreparable damage to the Plymouth.

It was a few days later, as I was getting ready to go to school or work or guilt-denial sessions, that my dad walked in front of the car on his way to the barn, saw the front-right fender, and loudly asked, "What happened here?!?"

Here it was...time to confront the consequences of my carelessness and the reality of my lawlessness.

I cleared my throat.

"What happened where?" I innocently asked.

Yeah, that's right, I totally went into Oscar-worthy territory and somehow made my father believe that I had no idea there was a two-foot dent in my right-front fender. "Wow...how did...man...somebody must have hit me when I was parked in town or something."

And that was it. I never suffered any punishment or restrictions because of that. It was never brought up again, nor held over my head as a reason for me to "be careful, young man."

Then one evening, while driving to Wednesday night church service, the whole thing came to mind and I found myself confessing the incident to my mother...who I was taking to church...with Beloved and our four children.

Nineteen years...yeah, that's about the right amount of time to let pass before owning up to something like that.