Nothing.

The halls of my brain are echoing with emptiness.

The cupboard’s bare.
The refrigerator’s empty.

You get the idea.

I sat around and waited for something to bubble up to the top.

That usually works.

Nothing.
The brain’s dead.

I went through my mental list of things that piss me off.
It’s too long and I got sleepy and needed a nap.

The wife is always good for some amount of words.
This week – nothing.

She’s been on her best behavior.
It’s wonderful.

Even my imaginary friends aren’t talking to me.

It happens to us all.

There are the occasional days when neutral seems to be the gear we’re in.

Better now than in some meeting when the boss asks for an intelligent answer to something.

I’m coming up dry so I take a pass on today’s column.

Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe not.

I need to get more grumpy.
That usually works.

Somebody give me some grief.

It’s a Monday so I’m clearing some stuff that’s been cluttering up my brain.

It was a slow afternoon after the kids left and the wife was in her Mother’s Day happy place.

When the wife is happy – everything is good.

Because when the wife is unhappy she damn well makes sure I am too.

Being an old reporter I thought I’d drop by the 1-800 Flowers Facebook page to check see how everyone was doing with their mom.

Whoa.
It’s amazing how many people are pissed at that company.

They never delivered a Mother’s Day order for me years ago and I never used them again.

It seems that stuff is still going on with some folks.

I’m surprised it stays in business.

Some selected pictures from some upset people…

They ordered this.                 And say they got this.

Or this.                                    And got this…

My favorite is the flowers that were replaced with the 50 Shades of Grey special.

I wonder if it came with batteries.
Mom must have freaked.

Here’s hoping she had a sense of humor.

Anyone get the idea quality control has gone to hell in this country?

Speaking of countries…Vladimir Putin is the head of Russia.
He’s a trouble causer so I like to see things making fun of him.

Watch this edited video and have a giggle this morning.

Just so I don’t play favorites – here’s President Obama.

Hope you had a nice Mother’s Day.

Don’t be grumpy.
That’s my job.

When I was much younger I caught the attention of the British Government.
Not in a good way.

It decided I was a gangster.
Yes, I have a shady past.

Women love men with shady pasts.

My father was looking at buying an island in the Bahamas and invited me to tag along while he went to his meetings.

Sun, sea, beach, bikinis.

I really was missing Hawaii.

Of course, but I’ll skip the meetings.

So he did meetings and I rented a motorbike to putt around by day and hit the casino and/or bars by night.

I figured when I ran out of money I’d go back home.

So I lived the good life until I was down to my last $50.

Putt-putt over to the casino, plop it down on the Blackjack table and let her rip.

Lose – I go home.

Win – I stay until I’m down to $50 again and back to the casino.

A simple plan is always the best one.

It probably is important to note I never had gambled much and my total knowledge of Blackjack came from a five-minute chat with one of my father’s friends months earlier.

I figured I’d go broke – and out of there – quickly.

I cleaned up.

I walked out of there with a fist full of cash and I was good for another week of the high life.
Down to $50 again – back to the tables.

This went on for six weeks.
It was amazing and I was awesome.

They should make a movie about that.
I’d like Leonardo DiCaprio to play me please.

And the love interest – a short brunette would be nice.

It was like dropping by a bank with my hand out.

Then one night there was a knock at door.

The Bahamian police had arrived.
Three very big gentlemen.

“The government of the Bahamas sends its regards and it’s time for you to leave.”

Seems someone in the Ministry of Whatever decided I was a professional gambler.

This was back when the Bahamas were still under Great Britain and the Queen was the boss.

I can only assume she was not amused by my good fortune.

It was like a bad movie.

Get out of Dodge by noon the next day or I would be arrested and deported.

One officer said, “You can do it the easy way – or the hard way”.
I suppose he’d been watching the same bad movies

But it really sounded weird in a Bahamian accent.

Anyway, If I left they’d skip all that messy fingerprinting and jail stuff.
I’d seen enough bad movies myself to figure out what might be the best path.

10 o’clock the next morning I saved taxi fare by riding in the back of a police car to the airport and they walked me to the plane.

Nice guys.
We shook hands and laughed about how stupid the whole thing was.

I was then thrown out of the country.

Professional gambler.
I didn’t know whether to be proud or bummed.

Decided number one was best.

That ended my life of crime.

Is there a moral to all this?

Of course – women love men with shady pasts.
Except for the Queen.