The Espenblog

"You never know what may come forth from this simple-minded man!"

Just a Very Quick Visit

Written By: George Espenlaub - Dec• 10•11

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Fire in the Hole, Part 6

Written By: George Espenlaub - Dec• 09•11

Can you believe that this is part 6 of, “Fire in the Hole?” Since I’m the chief inmate, I mean, the ringleader of this gang here at the Funny Farm, I like to lead by example. Take this six part series about hemorrhoids that I’ve been writing; most folks out there in the real world would never think of discussing their hemorrhoids with, “Joe Public.” If the subject were to be discussed at all it would most likely be amongst family members or a close friend. Of course one would most certainly converse with a doctor, but to hang it out there for the entire world to see would be unthinkable by the majority of people. Did I say, “Hang it out there?” Oh my, there was no pun intended.

Here in our world we openly share our experiences, both good and bad which enables us to express ourselves and empty our souls to each other. Hey, that sounded pretty darn good although I have no idea what it means. Oh boy, here I go again but not to worry; I’ll get back on track. I don’t believe that I said, “Hang it out there,” but in looking back I see that I most certainly did. I’m such a twit sometimes. Check out this definition; “Twit,” meaning, a fool; to ridicule as a fault; also deride, mock, razz about yourself. I threw that, “About you,” in there.  I’m having a burst out of an outburst right now so please bear with me. If you have never had a burst out of an outburst you will not understand what I’m experiencing but that’s perfectly alright. Now, allow me to take a deep breath, stand up, stretch, and shake myself so I will be able to continue. There, that’s so much better now. No wonder it has taken this many parts to write one article. If you’re a first-time reader, don’t bailout on me just yet. Get a good grip on something, hang on, and I’ll make you just as crazy as the rest of us here at the Funny Farm.

Okay, enough of whatever that was. You must always keep in mind that this is a place where fantasy and reality are intertwined and we can’t tell the difference for the most part. Throughout this series I have continually mentioned grandma. Read through the previous articles of, “Fire in the Hole,” and you will see that grandma is repeatedly referred too. Grandma was for real and to prove that grandma was for real I have posted a picture with Grandma Strayer, Uncle Pete, and Aunt Esther. Grandma was precious to all of us but she never had hemorrhoids.

Let’s get back to the hallway where I was curled up in the fetal position on the floor with, “The Fire Lady,” breathing fire and brimstone down upon me. Trembling in fear and pain I watched helplessly as Mom Mom drew her right foot back and gave me a good swift kick which landed square in the middle of my butt. Oh the excruciating pain that shot through me as the already irritated hemorrhoids reared up. With that Mom Mom walked away while I slowly forced myself to crawl to the bathroom. Those hemorrhoids were thumping as if they had a heartbeat of their own as I closed the bathroom door. As quickly as I was able, I turned the water on in the tub. Not too hot, not too cold. By the time the tub was almost full I was ready to climb in. I eased myself down into the warm water that would bring relief to my tired, aching, on fire butt. Did I mention that I had to lie on my side while in the tub? There was no way I could sit on my butt in that tub of water.

I wasn’t in the tub very long when a brilliant idea hit me. Well, at the time I thought it was brilliant. Those hemorrhoids were on fire when I climbed in the tub. In fact when I settled my behind in the water I heard sizzling noises. You know, like a hot iron was dunked in water. I watched in amazement as steam drifted up from the water. It was when I heard the gurgling noise that the idea hit me. If the fire was extinguished when I put the hemorrhoids in the water, and the hemorrhoids gurgled as they went under the water, then I should be able to drown those bad boys if I keep them under the water long enough. I was beginning to feel better already. I was going to put this unpleasant experience behind me once and for all. This huge, swollen, angry mass would finally be conquered by the very one that had been attacked. What I was going to do to this gang of hemorrhoids would be a message sent to all hemorrhoids both present and future. I would be feared throughout the hemorrhoid world, and the mere mention of my name would cause hemorrhoids to tremble in fear. I’m here to tell you that grandma never had hemorrhoids.

I rested my head on the side of the tub as the hems soaked and gurgled. The gurgling sound had like its own rhythm going on down there as I drifted off to sleep. When I awoke the water was cold but the hems were still gurgling. As I let some water out of the tub so I could put more hot water in I begin to doubt my plan of attack. I had no watch in the bathroom so there was no way to tell what time it was. I listened to the gurgling sound more closely to see if it sounded any different now than when I first put those critters under the water. The hemorrhoids weren’t gurgling as loud now. The gurgles seemed to be fading so I settled in again. With the water now warm I was content to fall asleep one more time.

How long I slept is anyone’s guess but as I woke up I could see that it was daylight through the bathroom window. The water was now cold, I was stiff and looked like a prune, but the gurgling sound had stopped. As I struggled to my feet I half expected to see dead hemorrhoids floating in the water but that didn’t happen. As I stepped from the tub and dried off I suddenly realized that the hems were not dead but still very much alive. I gasped as I felt the hemorrhoids rear their ugly heads. I heard them as they snarled and growled demonstrating to me that they were very angry that I had attempted to drown them. Those hems begin to puff themselves up until they were bigger than before I soaked them in water, and if that wasn’t enough, one of those devilish critters struck a match setting them all on fire again. My plan had failed miserably and the hemorrhoids were going to make sure that I paid the price for trying to kill them. I left out a yelp that vibrated the house and once again I cried like a baby. Grandma never had to face such a thing as hemorrhoids and I’m sure of that.

This condition was going to require some drastic medical attention. I couldn’t beat these hemorrhoids on my own. Mom Mom wasn’t going to do anything to help, grandma wasn’t here to comfort me, and if I didn’t get some kind of relief soon I would go stark raving mad. I needed a hemorrhoid killer. A highly specialized, well equipped, hard as nails, roll up your sleeve kind of person that had a worse attitude than the hemorrhoids themselves. I needed someone whose mission in life was to attack and destroy hemorrhoids. I shuffled to find the phone book. It was time to call for help!

Got to go for now…have to meet with Harvey to discuss his new assignments. He’s back now you know, or perhaps you didn’t know. By now everyone knows the routine so leave the comments and be on the alert for the next,” George Espenlaub Show,” that will broadcast live from the Funny Farm. Charlie has recuperated from his crash and will be in the booth with me later on today. Thanks for dropping in.

Ms Fluff Dog Warned Me

Written By: Charley - Nov• 30•11

I find it hard to believe that I haven’t written an article since September 30th. Pops is going to suspend me like he suspended Harvey if I don’t snap to and get down to business. Ms Fluff Dog explicably told me that the Funny Farm would definitely have an effect on me. She was attempting to draw me a mental picture of this place. Of course mental is the key word she was trying to drive home, and now that I’ve been here for a while, I’m beginning to understand what Ms Fluff was saying.

I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster ride from day one. I never dreamed that any one place could be so, so different. I used the word different because I can’t think of any other word. It’s not the farm that is different. From the outside looking in one sees what looks like a typical farm in the country not far from town, but looks alone are deceiving. Allow me to give you some examples.

This farm has left legged cows. Now before you click me off let me explain what a left legged cow is. I’m sure that many of you have driven by or seen pictures of a farm surrounded by white fences with a beautiful farmhouse, a big barn, and various farm animals such as chickens, pigs, goats, and yes, cows. You’ve seen those cows as they have stood feeding on grassy, rolling hills. Perhaps you have watched as those same cows made their way down those grassy, rolling hills to the barn in the late afternoon to be milked. As you watched the cows meander their way to the barn you never once thought that there was something odd about their appearance because there wasn’t. They were cows that looked like cows and walked like cows, that mooed like cows, and that milked like cows, because they were cows. That’s how it is in your world but it’s not like that in our world. We have left legged cows here at the Funny Farm.

This farm is laid out just like the one you’ve seen in the real world but that’s where the similarities stop. Now, let the picture develop in your mind as I describe what our cows look like.  Since the sun is always shining here in our world the cows graze on the grassy hillside all day long, everyday. You see, the cows here at the Funny Farm have legs that fit the hillside meaning that their left legs are short and their right legs are long so as not to tip over and roll all the way down the hill. Of course when our cows are feeding on those rolling hills they must continuously move from left to right which makes for a longer trip back to the barn at milking time.

Pops told me that our cows are like that for safety reasons, which makes sense for when they are on the hillside feeding, but when they walk on level ground they all walk with a limp. The limp is so bad that cows actually fall over while walking. It doesn’t seem to bother any of the cows for when one tips over while walking several others hoist her right back on her feet. It’s usually the new cows that have a problem walking on level ground but after they are here for a while they seem to get the hang of it. I crack up watching the herd limping along leaning to the left.  Is the picture of our left legged cows developing in your mind now? Can you see the farm, the rolling hills, and our left legged cows? You may not want to admit it to anyone else but I know you got the picture. Should you pass by or see any pictures of a farm with milking cows standing on the hillside feeding today you will think about the left legged cows here at the Funny Farm.  Go ahead, you know you want to close your eyes and drift off into our world where things are so different.

One more example before I go. If you listened to the radio show entitled, “Parade Day at the Farm,” then you know that we have a marching band here called, “The Funny Farm Marching Band.” I saw this band for the first time the other day and I was literally blown away. Remember, this place is a place where fantasy and reality are intertwined and we can’t tell the difference. Our marching band marches backwards while performing. I couldn’t believe it although I was witnessing the event with my own eyes. I’ll bet you don’t have any backward marching, marching bands in your world. If you listen to the radio show you’ll actually hear the band performing while marching backwards. Some of the band members can actually play and they do sound good. There are others that march in the band pretending they can play like Ralph the Nose Picker. He marches along behind Dorothy the Doily Maker and whacks her in the back of the head with his trombone. Cindy, the Chief Psychiatrist bangs on a cardboard drum as she marches along but everyone knows that her drum isn’t working. The Funny Farm Marching Band is a piece of work that must be seen to be believed.

Ms Fluff Dog was right; this place will have an effect on you. I’m trying to maintain my sanity but I’m beginning to think that it’s a losing battle. Of course everyone here believes that they are normal, but then again, what is normal? I must admit that this place is a funny place with funny names, funny characters, and funny things happening all the time. I’m getting adjusted to life here on the Funny Farm but I haven’t decided whether the adjustments are good, not so good, or bad. I have to run for now as I see it’s time for my medication. Think about the things that I shared with you today and don’t be afraid to tell others what you heard about here at, “The Espenblog.”

Let’s make a big push for the radio show and theespenblog this coming week. When you stop by leave a comment or ask a question before you leave. While you’re here listen to the radio show. Just click that arrow on the radio player over there on the right hand side and away you’ll go. Come on, help us out and give us a great big PUSH. It will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for stopping by.

Harvey Has Been Suspended

Written By: George Espenlaub - Nov• 23•11

If you haven’t listened to last night’s radio program you need to go over to the right of this page, scroll down until you find the radio player, and hit the play button. Go ahead, you can listen to the show and read my article at the same time. In fact you can listen to every show that has been produced by this crazy bunch just by clicking on the episode button at the bottom right of the player. You’ll find that, “The George Espenlaub Show,” is somewhat different from most but most everything and everyone here at the Funny Farm is somewhat different. Click on that player; I’ll guarantee you that nothing bad will happen. Listening to the show may put a smile on your face. Okay, so much for that.

Well, it’s finally happened, Harvey went a little too far this time and Pops went through the roof. When he landed the first thing he did was to suspend Harvey for seven days without pay. I knew it was coming but Harvey is so headstrong he wouldn’t listen to me or anyone else for that matter. If you have been following, “The Espenblog,” for any length of time you know Harvey always finds a way to get in trouble. Pops nailed him for dereliction of duty but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Several weeks ago I received a phone call informing me that one of my dearest friends was gravely ill. Pops insisted that I leave immediately so as to spend time with my friend. Harvey promised Pops that he would pick up the slack, carry the load, and cover for me in this time of need. The readers of, “The Espenblog,” and the listeners of, “The George Espenlaub Show,” had no idea that things were piling up around here the same time I received that phone call.

Mom Mom was preparing for surgery, the fantasy football league was in full swing, the radio show needed to be produced, the Funny Farm with its many inmates, I mean clients, needed constant attention, and, “The Espenblog,” had to be taken care of. Knowing the severity of the situation, Harvey made it known that he was up to the task. I can still see his face as he stood in Pops office making his speech. “I’m a well trained, intelligent, and more than capable journalist that is able to meet the challenges that are before me. Please don’t forget that I’m the brilliant GM of Georges’ Gorillas Fantasy Football Team, so I can cover all the league action and keep our readers up to date with what’s happening.” It was the same old Harvey, full of himself, arrogant, and downright obnoxious. I glanced over at Pops and watched as he started a slow burn. I was getting a bad taste in my mouth.

There stood Harvey with his tailor made suit, leaning on his fancy cane flashing his three Super Bowl rings around like he just met us for the first time. Harvey is such goof. Pops slow burn was beginning to intensify so I jumped in with, “This is us you’re talking to.” It’s like he never heard me.”

Harvey continued on, “No one needs to worry about the Funny Farm either. I can run that place with my hands tied behind my back. When I appear at the farm the inmates will know that I’m a no nonsense kind of guy and if they know what’s good for them, they better walk the line.” How quickly Harvey forgot his last appearance at the farm when he was almost electrocuted to death by Ralph the Nose Picker. The inmates, I mean the clients are still laughing about that one.

It was the next blast of hot air from the meatball that caused Pops to jump to his feet. Harvey said, “Just let the radio show to me. I’ll produce the best show you have ever seen. The crowds and the listeners will multiply tenfold when I take over the show because I’m just that good.” Harvey was really stinking up the office now. His eyes were sparkling while his chest stuck out so far the buttons on his suit jacket were ready to pop off until Pops jumped to his feet and poked the goof dead in the center of his chest.

I squealed with delight as I watched Harvey instantly deflate and plop down on a chair. The coloring in his face drained until he looked like someone who had a bad case of the flu. His knees were knocking together as he set slouched and slumped in his chair. Have you ever seen anyone slouched and slumped at the same time while sitting in a chair?  I never did until that very moment.

The same finger that poked old peanut breath was now waggling in front of his nose. The finger was so close to Harvey’s nose that his eyes were crossed. His glasses were on the end of his nose, the finger was almost a part of his nose, and his eyes were crossed as he tried to follow the finger. What a hilarious sight it was. I think Pops had enough don’t you?

With the finger still waggling under the nose, Pops said between clenched teeth, “Harvey, the only thing I want you to do while Ms Ernestine is away is to keep the Standings, Scores, and Matchup Page current. I want you to report on all the action that takes place in the fantasy football league so all our readers are up to date with what’s happening. You will not, I repeat, you will not take care of the Funny Farm, nor will you take part in producing the radio show. I’ll not put a show on at all before I turn it over to you. If you can’t do what I’ve assigned you to do I’ll have to resort to taking harsh action.” I thought Harvey was going to pass out with fear. Pops was serious about this and Harvey knew it. As Pops and I left the office I thought I saw Harvey starting to cry. Pops sure busted his bubble. As Pops drove me to the, “Our World Airport,” I promised Pops I would stay in touch and return as soon as possible. He didn’t say a word, he just nodded.

You may be asking, “What took Pops so long to realize that Harvey was neglecting his duties if Pops was writing his series, “Fire in the Hole,” and posting them on the website?” I’m glad you asked. Mom Mom was hospitalized due to surgery so Pops was spending his time at the hospital. Because Pops didn’t have the time to write the articles himself he used a Ghost Writer. It was much easier for Pops to dictate his articles over the phone to the, “Chicken Lady,” and then she could put everything together and post it. This way Pops didn’t have to spend the time on the site, he could spend the time with Mom Mom. After Mom Mom came home Pops was and is continuing to be the caretaker while Chicken Lady does the typing and posting of his articles. Pops was under the impression that Harvey was doing what he was assigned to do until.

As Pops settled into the role of caretaker he would periodically call Harvey to get an update. Each time Harvey didn’t answer Pops would leave a message for Harvey to return his call. As things begin to return to somewhat normal Pops would call Harvey more often and leave more messages but to no avail. With no phone calls being returned Pops drove over to Harvey’s hooch only to find out from the neighbors that Harvey hadn’t been home for several weeks. Harvey hadn’t been to the Gorillas Training Facilities and he certainly hadn’t been to The Espenblog Offices. Where was Harvey? What was he doing? These were questions that begin to trouble Pops and his blood was beginning to boil. His nose told him that something was beginning to stink and his gut told him that Harvey was up too no good.

Pops received a phone call from someone who had information about Harvey but wouldn’t share the info unless he could remain anonymous. Upon agreeing with the man Pops found out that Harvey was partying down with his old flame named Woman. Pops was given times and location where Harvey and Woman had been. The man even e-mailed a picture of Harvey and Woman getting into Harvey’s vehicle. Now don’t jump to conclusions and say that Pops was meddling in Harvey’s private affairs. That’s not the case at all.

Before Pops went ballistic he took the time to check the website. He knew what he would find before he even brought the site up. There it was or should I say, there it wasn’t? No updates on the Scores, Standings, and Matchup Page since week two. We were now in week 11. To make matters worse Harvey hadn’t written any articles since October 7th. I walked in while Pops was on the site checking things out. I wanted to surprise him but I was the one that was surprised as I watched Pops blow a gasket and go through the roof. I didn’t know what was going on but I had enough sense to know that somehow Harvey was involved. I also knew that when Pops landed bad things were going to happen to someone and that someone was probably Harvey.

Pops was so angry that when he finally landed he never noticed me standing in his office. He was saying, “Spleaky, splanky, spluck!” That’s not exactly what he was saying, in fact that isn’t even close, but you get the picture. He picked up his cell phone and spoke into it saying, “Call Harvey.” Oh boy, this isn’t going to be pretty. Pops still hadn’t noticed me. He had the speaker turned on and I heard as Harvey answered with that arrogant tone of voice. Harvey never had a chance as Pops demanded that Harvey be in his office standing tall within 30 minutes. I still hadn’t been noticed. There was more, “Sleaky, splanky, spluck talk,” as Pops paced back and forth. Did I mention that Pops hadn’t noticed me yet? He was out there somewhere for sure. How do not notice a big girl like me?

In less than 10 minutes I heard the outside door open and close. The footsteps seemed to be moving slowing down the tile covered hallway. I listened as the footsteps drew closer to the door and then, there he was. Harvey had arrived looking like he had been run over by a truck. Pops stopped pacing, looked over at what was a resemblance of Harvey holding onto the door frame for support. The old goof was shaking so hard that I thought he was going to fly apart any second now. Pops moved quickly and stood in front of Harvey’s face waggling that finger under his nose again. “Harvey,” Pops bellowed. “You are suspended for seven days without pay. Don’t say a word, take your monkey butt out of here and I don’t want to see your face for seven days and seven nights. Go!” Harvey almost collapsed as he turned to walk away. Neither one of them had noticed me standing there. Go figure.

Pops never knew I had returned until last night when I appeared at the radio station. I haven’t seen Harvey since yesterday, have you? I personally invite you to tune into the radio show later on today, tell your friends and neighbors about The Espenblog and the show, leave some comments, ask some questions, and have a great day. Are you as crazy as the rest of us yet? Cya later boys and girls.

Fire in the Hole, Part 5

Written By: George Espenlaub - Nov• 19•11

So there I was, curled up in a fetal position on the floor in the hallway with Mom Mom towering over me. She continued to zing questions at me faster than an FBI agent. As Mom Mom raged on completely out of control, I quickly glanced up at her only to discover that she was on fire. I’m telling you she was on fire! She had no recognizable features such as hair, lips, cheeks, etc. Her once beautiful face was gone, replaced by a ball of fire that resembled the burning sun. Where her eyes had been brown I now saw blood. I heard about people with blood in their eyes and I’m not talking about people that had eye injuries…know what I mean?

In the years prior to this I had never once seen Mom Mom like this. Oh sure, there were several, well, more than several times I had made her mad enough to thump me upside my head which I rightly deserved, but this time everything about her was different. I had seen her face get red like fire before but her face never disappeared in fire. I was acquainted with fire blasting its way out of her nose holes before but her nose was never consumed in the fire. I have witnessed Mom Mom being so angry at me that her hair stood straight up but her hair never caught on fire before. There were even times that she had fire in her eyes but I never saw blood in them sockets until now. Did I mention that grandma never went through anything like this?

I felt myself trembling in fear as the, “Fire Lady,” raked me over the coals. I was surrounded by fire but I felt cold chills running up and down my spine as this crazy woman blazed away at me from above and those devilish hemorrhoids burned at me from behind. It was so unfortunate that I wasn’t going to die in the fire. Where was grandma when I needed her most? Of course she never had hemorrhoids either.

Although my body was wracked in pain and my mind filled with confusion I was most disturbed by the fact that Mom Mom had yet to ask what was wrong with me. Why I even allowed that thought to enter my mind was beyond me. Why would she be interested in my physical condition when she was about to beat me beyond recognition? Once she found out that I had been attacked by hemorrhoids while AWOL her soul would sing at such good fortune. As much as I’m trying to draw a very graphic picture of what I was going through while curled up on the floor with the, “Fire Lady,” reining fireballs upon me from above and hemorrhoids burning me up from behind I don’t think grandma was getting it because she never had hemorrhoids. Of course grandma never did some of the things I did that got me into these dilemmas.

With everything that took place in the hallway just several feet from the bathroom where I was hoping to get some sort of relief Mom Mom did the most unexpected thing. I should have been looking for it since this wasn’t the ordinary knock down, beat me severely about the head and shoulders ritual. You would think that all things being cranked up to another level and Mom Mom heated up the way she was, I would have been somewhat prepared. Nope, I wasn’t, but it happened whether I was ready or not. Would any of you boys or girls out there like to guess what Mom Mom did? Remember, this happened over 25 years ago, but as I write this article it seems as if it’s happening all over again. Excuse me while I stand up to relieve the pain.

I’m now typing this standing up. I have the laptop on a stand; you know something like one of those music stands. I can’t bear to sit any longer while I reminisce, it’s too painful. Hey, are you as crazy as the rest of us yet? Jake put that in there as I walked away from the computer for a second. I haven’t taken my meds yet this morning so my train is running off the track. I better stop for now, post what I have, and go take my meds. Did I tell you that Cindy, the Chief Psychiatrist here at the Funny Farm has me scheduled for a shock treatment at 9:00 a.m.? Maybe I’ll be half right after Cindy gets done with me. I’ll let you know how it turns out when I get back but in the meantime see if you can guess what Mom Mom did to me while I was on the floor in the hallway. Go ahead make a comment, take a guess!

Cya later boys and girls. I sure am longwinded at times but then again, I’m at the Funny Farm in our world where fantasy and reality are intertwined. We can’t tell the difference can you?

Fire in the Hole, Part 4

Written By: George Espenlaub - Nov• 01•11

Three small concrete steps separated me from reaching the door that could lead to relief. I tried bending over thinking that maybe, just maybe I could crawl up the steps, but when I attempted that maneuver the hemorrhoids turned up the heat, throbbed like someone was beating on a bass drum, made sure the pain level was raised to at least a 15, and laughed so hard that I thought Mom Mom would come out to see what the commotion was all about. Should Mom Mom open the door and find me in this position she would thump and bump on me first and maybe ask questions later. Grandma had no idea what hemorrhoids were like.

I straightened myself up, took a deep breath, scrunched my face up real tight, lifted my foot up on one step, whimpered, broke out into a cold sweat, and forced myself to climb those three steps. I was trembling when I opened the storm door and reached for the doorknob. Imagine how I felt when I turned the knob, pushed on the door, and nothing happened. The door was locked. Panic overwhelmed me as I realized that the key to this door was in my travel bag attached to the motorcycle that was sitting in the driveway. I stood on that top step crying like a baby, paralyzed by pain from hemorrhoids the size of grapefruits, wishing that lightening would strike me dead or Mom Mom would fling open the door and shoot me. Knowing that lightening wasn’t going to strike me and put me out of my misery I had to rely on Mom Mom. Surely she had heard all the commotion I had been making since my arrival. I had visions of her inside the house loading the shotgun and moving slowly to the door. If I wiggle the doorknob one more time she’ll shoot right through the door, blow me off the steps, and put an end to my misery. None of that happened so I found myself stuck again. By now I was wishing that grandma had experienced hemorrhoids at least once in her life.

Do you know how many times I had found myself stuck those three days leading up to this time being stuck? I had been stuck on the motorcycle seat not once, but every time I had to get off. I had been stuck every time I had to get back on. I had been stuck every time I had to set down and get back up. I had been stuck at the foot of those three steps that I climbed, and there I was stuck at the top of those very same steps. What I would have given for a tub of warm water right about then. Perhaps if I could put my butt in a tub of lukewarm water I could drown those bad boys. I must have been getting delirious thinking that you could drown hemorrhoids. When I gathered my senses I realized that trying to drown those bad boys wasn’t going to do anything but make them angrier than they already were. I was stuck.

Once again I was faced with two choices; I could attempt to get back down the steps, go to the motorcycle to retrieve my keys, turn around and do what I had already done which would take me only God knows how long, or I could bang on the door hoping that Mom Mom would come open it, and kill me. I choose the latter knowing that she wouldn’t kill me but hoping she wouldn’t knock me down the steps. I couldn’t make that climb again. My butt was on fire, my legs ached, I was exhausted, sick to my stomach, and even my hair hurt as I lifted my hand to bang on the door. I knocked gently at first but that didn’t work. I knocked louder but that didn’t get a response either. As I became more desperate the louder I banged. Each loud knock sent shock waves all the way to my butt which caused me to cry even harder. I knew that Mom Mom had heard the very first knock but she wasn’t going to answer the door until she was good and ready. I could picture her sitting in the chair with a big grin on her face knowing that there was something wrong by the way I was knocking. After what seemed forever I heard the door being unlocked, watched the doorknob turn, and saw the door swing open that led into the house. As I looked up at Mom Mom I saw fire shooting from her eyes, she was snarling at me and her fists were clenched as she moved away from the door.  Grandma never had to go through this even if she didn’t have hemorrhoids.

Mom Mom watched as I half crawled, half fell over the threshold. What I would have given for a little TLC right about then, but knowing that I had been AWOL I accepted the fact that there would be no compassion shown on the part of Mom Mom. I couldn’t help but think that the anger of the hemorrhoids and the wrath of Mom Mom was more than one man should have to bear as I shuffled my way through the kitchen, heading for the bathroom. All had been quiet up to that point but I knew that wasn’t going to continue much longer.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Mom Mom followed me. Her face was a glowing red like a fire that was burning out of control; her eyes were glazed over looking like something out of a horror movie, and her fist were clenched so tight that her knuckles were white. I was trying to move as fast as I could while keeping an eye on her fists. Mom Mom has some of the fastest hands I have ever seen and trust me I’ve seen them up close and personal. She was so fast with those hands that she made Sugar Ray Leonard look like a chump. I knew she was about to make her move any second now so I put my head down and shuffled for all I was worth.

Mom Mom shot around me like a bullet. Why grandma would have looked like a bullet going by as slowly as I was moving. Of course grandma never had hemorrhoids either. Once by me, Mom Mom squared herself, and put her hands on her hips causing me to come to a complete stop although I was barely moving. With nostrils flaring, eyes blazing, and fists clenched she spoke, “Where have you been? Why didn’t you call? Is it so hard to stop at a phone and call me? Why didn’t you tell me you were going somewhere?” Mom Mom asked questions almost as fast as she could move her hands.

There I was, stuck again. With the hemorrhoids sounding off to the rear and Mom Mom sounding off in front of me I felt like I was going to pass out. I said I felt like it; I knew dare well I couldn’t get so lucky. The sounds of angry hemorrhoids laughing hysterically while stoking up the fires and growing bigger by the moment coupled with Mom Mom shooting fire out her nose holes was far too much for me to bear. I crumbled to the floor, curled up in a fetal position and bawled like a baby. I just knew that Mom Mom was going to get down beside me, pat my head, whisper sweet things in my ear, and tell me she would make everything better…..Not!

I’ll tell you next time what happened to me as the wrath of Mom Mom thundered down upon me. Where was death when I need him most? Must I wallow in my misery and suffer to the point that I thought I was going mad? Don’t say it; I know what you’re thinking.

Tune into the radio show, leave some comments, ask some questions, and tell all your friends and neighbors to drop in, “The Espenblog.” Let me know if you are getting as crazy as the rest of us. Cya later boys and girls!

Fire in the Hole, Part 3

Written By: George Espenlaub - Oct• 19•11

As I set there in the dark I knew I had to do two things: First, I had to get myself off the bike. Second, I had to get myself in the house where there might be a slight chance of finding some relief although I knew that facing Mom Mom would not bring any relief, only grief. As good as it was to be home, it wasn’t good to be home.

With all the grit I could muster I slowly removed my butt from the seat. You can say or think what you will, but as I was peeling myself from the bike seat I could hear that gang of hemorrhoids laughing at me. It was the most hideous laugh I have ever heard. They started jumping and carrying on as they turned up the heat. I could feel them puffing up even further now that they weren’t being pressed down on the seat anymore. Those bad boys left me know in a heartbeat that they were going to express themselves now that they had some room to grow.

I stood there in the dark waiting for lightening to strike while the hemorrhoids had their way with me. I wanted to head for the door but to my dismay I found that my legs wouldn’t move. Sweat poured from every pore on my body, I shook from the severe pain that the monsters had inflicted on me, and although my behind was on fire I wasn’t able to drop and roll. I was paralyzed by pain. This experience that I was experiencing was becoming an experience that I certainly didn’t want to experience any further. I forced my feet to do the shuffle move toward the door. I was alright until I got to the steps, now what?

While I’m stuck at the foot of the steps leading into the house, allow me to give you some interesting facts about hemorrhoids. There are some 86% of Americans that have some type of hemorrhoids. These monsters from the deep are no respecters of people or age. Now here is something to think about as you go through your day; only humans get hemorrhoids. No animals get to experience hemorrhoids. Also, 50% of Americans will have experienced hemorrhoids in one way, shape, or form by age 50. Hemorrhoids are also known as, “piles.” Nope, grandma never mentioned piles.

After reading that they are also called piles, I set back, and thought about it. Webster’s definition of piles is; hemorrhoids, which lead me to find the definition of hemorrhoids. Hemorrhoids is a swollen mass of dilated veins at or just within the anus, or as I say, at or just inside the doorway. I believe swollen mass is the key phrase here. Picture this and you’ll see that the word piles makes sense. At, or just inside the doorway is a pile of dilated veins that are swollen, on fire, itching, and very angry. Can you see the pile up?

Did you know that hemorrhoids are graded?

  • Grade 1 is hemorrhoids that never show themselves. I didn’t have that kind.
  • Grade 2 is the ones that show themselves and then returns where they came from after they take care of business. These guys must be like a hit and run driver, or like a mouse that comes out of hiding and then returns after doing whatever he was doing. I didn’t have that kind either.
  • Grade 3 hemorrhoids must be put back inside the doorway manually. This grade has me puzzled. Is there some kind of tool you can purchase? Would it be called a hemorrhoid replacement tool? Where do you buy such a device? These are questions that I have not found answers to just yet. I didn’t have this type.
  • Grade 4 must be the worst kind. I’m told that these bad boys come out and refuse to go back into their hiding place. If they are forced back, they push their way out again. These brazen, hard headed, contrary, devilish hemorrhoids appear to inflict the most pain possible. They won’t be pushed or shoved around, and by the time they are done with you death is looked on as a friend. I told you that before, didn’t I?

These external grade four hems are created under the skin just inside the doorway. They come complete with swelling, soreness, and will turn blue or purple when thrombosis sets in. I had no idea that hemorrhoids played trombones, but after thinking about it for a while it began to make sense. You have to expand your mind to understand what I’m about to say.

Think of the last time you saw a trombone player. Their checks puff way out like they are swollen, their lips must get sore smashed up against that mouthpiece, and their faces turn blue or purple from blowing so much air into that thing. To me, and only to me, I can see the comparison, but those trombone playing hemorrhoids weren’t making sweet music. This grade 4 type of hems is the ones I had. I know beyond a shadow of doubt that grandma never had hemorrhoids.

I’ve come to the conclusion that everything and anything causes hemorrhoids. Look at it: constipation, diarrhea, lifting heavy objects, poor posture, prolonged sitting and prolonged standing, eating the wrong foods, overweight, and straining too hard when you have a move. If that’s not enough lets add too much booze, too much caffeine, and smoking to the list. There are probably others, but you get the picture, right? With all the advancements in medical science we know what might cause these only human attacking creatures from the deep, but no one knows why. Hemorrhoids are still a mystery to medical science in some respects.

That long list of causes that I just mentioned doesn’t hold any weight with me. I’m not convinced that hemorrhoids need any of those things on the list to show up. I believe that anything that grows that big, that inflicts that much pain, bleeds that much, burns that hot, and arrives on the scene that angry doesn’t need any of those things to get it started. My conclusion is that these vicious people attacking monsters come when they want to, do what they want to, and jump on anyone they want to. No sir, grandma never had hemorrhoids.

The next time you do the watch people thing either at the mall, an airport, a sporting event, etc; pay particular attention to how folks are walking. Watch their faces to see if they are grimacing, and make sure to watch how they are sitting. Are they sitting on one cheek, you know tilted to the left or right? Are they sitting on their hands so that both cheeks are off the chair? These signs don’t necessarily mean that one may be afflicted with hemorrhoids, but with 86% of Americans having some type of hemorrhoid you could very well be witnessing  an attack from behind at, or just inside the doorway.

So there I stood at the bottom of three steps that led up to the door. How was I going to get up those steps, open the storm door, and open the door that led into the house in the condition I was in? I’ll have to come back and put a part four on this puppy. I get long winded sometimes, but oh well no one is ever in a hurry in our world. Come on in here with me…’s safer in here than it is out there in your world. Thanks for stopping by. Tell all your friends and neighbors to drop in at, “The Espenblog.” You can kick off your shoes, lean back in your chair, and listen to the radio show while you’re reading the articles. Speak at you later!

Fire in the Hole, Part 2

Written By: George Espenlaub - Oct• 16•11

Grandma Strayer used to say, “There’s nothing worse than a toothache or an ear ache.” As I was endeavoring to throw my leg over the seat so I could continue on down the road, grandma’s words kept bouncing around in my head. I was becoming increasingly angry as my pain elevated to about a 14. I know, the pain chart goes to 10, but these bad boys that were behind me were taking pain and agony to a whole new level.

After gritting my teeth, scrunching up my face, and holding my breath, I was finally able to mount the bike. As I lowered my butt unto the seat I let out a whimper, or maybe it was more like a whelp. Apparently Grandma Strayer never had hemorrhoids or she wouldn’t have put teeth and ears as being the most horrible. As I started the bike and rode off I realized that I was mad at grandma of all people. She had passed away years before and here I was getting mad at her for making a statement. I still say, “Grandma never had hemorrhoids.”

The vibration of the bike, the bumps in the road, the heat, and the over sized hemorrhoids protruding from the back door were all too much. It felt like I was sitting on hundreds of big, red hot ball bearings with barbs on them. These animals throbbed; no they pounded like someone beating on drums. These uninvited creatures that attacked from within, or from without, or from wherever they come from had no mercy. They arrived on the doorstep with the intention of inflicting as much pain as possible. The hemorrhoids are angry when they arrive; they become angrier after they are here for a while, and even angrier when they realize that you realize they are angry. Of course if you were a hemorrhoid you would be angry too. I’m convinced that grandma never had hemorrhoids!

Every part of my body was in pain as I rode down the highway. The pain that was emanating from behind even caused my face to hurt. Yes that’s right; my face hurt due to the fact that it had been in the scrunched up mode since the beginning of the attack. It could do nothing but stay scrunched up tight which caused it to hurt. Every nerve ending in my body was standing at attention because of the rear attack by these creatures. I had no choice but to press on despite the war that was raging. I’m positive that grandma never had hemorrhoids.

I lost all track of time as I motored my way home. I felt as if I was on a treadmill, my mind would wander, my body cried out for relief, and the traffic around me was nothing but a blur. I remember crossing the Bay Bridge and thinking that when I reached the highest point I should stop and jump over the edge into The Chesapeake Bay. As you can see, that idea didn’t come to fruition either. There’s no way grandma ever had hemorrhoids!

Finally after what seemed forever, I reached my destination; home. As I turned off the highway and made my way down the street to the house I was overcome with great trepidation and fear. For a moment, I mean for just a moment I forgot about the battle that was waging from behind and thought about Mom Mom. This was the first time I had ever experienced hemorrhoids, but I had experienced the wrath of Mom Mom countless times before. Mom Mom on her worse day is more vicious than any twenty hemorrhoids on their best day. She wouldn’t kill you outright but she had the capability of inflicting such severe pain you wished you would die. I told you that in times like these you looked to death as a friend. Knowing what I had already experienced and knowing what I was about to experience caused my hair to hurt. I turned the motor off and drifted into the driveway.

I sat there in the dark hoping that Mom Mom hadn’t heard me. It was a beautiful evening outside the fact that my body was racked in pain, Mom Mom was going to afflict even more pain, and I couldn’t get off the bike. You may be thinking that when Mom Mom realized the condition I was in she would show some compassion and understanding. The only compassion that Mom Mom was going to show was to stop just short of killing me, and the only understanding that would be displayed would be to make me understand that she wasn’t the least bit understanding. So there I sat in the dark, in pain, trembling in fear, and wishing that lightening would strike me. Did I mention that it was a beautiful night? You bet your booty that grandma never had hemorrhoids!

Our goal here at, The Espenblog is to make you as crazy as the rest of us. How are we doing? I’ll be back with Part 3 of, “Fire in the Hole.” Thanks for all your support. Hey, as you read this article I wonder if you are reading it standing up. Get my drift.

Fire in the Hole

Written By: George Espenlaub - Oct• 15•11

It is 2:09 a.m., Saturday morning, October 15, 2011. I wrote that statement over an hour ago having great expectations of my fingers sailing across the keyboard trying to keep up with my brain. It’s not as if I don’t have any material to write about, I most assuredly do. I have spent the last several days preparing to write this article only to find myself stuck at the beginning. So I sit here watching the blinking do-dad on my screen while I become more frustrated, which makes me aggravated to the point I get agitated. I hate when this happens. In times like these I need more coffee pumped into my system. I’ll be back in a minute, well, maybe not a minute but I’ll be back as quick as I can.

I’m back and it is now 4:00 a.m. When is the last time you set yourself down in a quiet place not worrying about what you had to do, or where you had to be? Once there, you close your eyes and allow your mind to drift back to days gone by. I do that very thing quite often and more times than not I’m amazed by where my mind takes me. In order for this adventure to work you must allow your mind to go where it wants to go. Don’t try to steer the vehicle. Get in, sit down, be quiet, and enjoy the ride. There are times that I don’t go very far but there are other times that I end up way back there. I can see some of you shaking your head in disbelief while I hear others saying, “This character has fallen out of the wheel barrel and bumped his head.” How did you know that happened to me?

After the radio show the other day, I found myself walking the grounds of the funny farm. Like always the birds were singing, the grass was green, the sun was shining, and I was happy as a lark. I found my favorite place, set down in the grass, leaned against the big oak tree, closed my eyes, and drifted away. I went back some 25 years or more and relived a very unpleasant occurrence. I can laugh about it now, but believe me, I wasn’t laughing while it was taking place. Allow me to take you back to when there was, “Fire in the Hole.”

You see, I never experienced what I experienced some 25 years ago. I had heard of, and known some people that experienced what I was about to experience, but I had yet to experience what other people had already experienced.  Why my mind decided to stop at that point and time of my life I have no idea, but I’ve learned that when it stops at a particular place, get out, face what the mind wants you to see, put your big girl panties on, and deal with it. The ride back to now is much more pleasant. Hey, come into my world, it’s nice in here!

Funny that I should say the ride back, because that’s where my experience started some 25 years ago; on my ride back home. I won’t bore you with where I was, or why I was where I was, but I had been to where I was on my bike, (motorcycle). After days of riding hundreds of miles, and doing what I was doing, I made the U turn that pointed me in the direction of home. It was the day before I made that turn that I begin to experience what turned out to be a very unpleasant experience. Riding as far as I did one could expect to get somewhat stiff and even sore in some spots. That’s why you should stop and rest, walk around, and stretch your aching bones periodically, which is exactly what I had been doing, but yet after doing what I was supposed to be doing there was something developing that didn’t feel quite right. I noticed that I couldn’t ride as far without stopping. That in and of its self wasn’t a big deal because I was tired, very tired. The real problem was that it was becoming harder to get off the bike when I did stop and even harder to get back on again. Once off the bike it became difficult to walk, and I wasn’t comfortable when I sat down no matter what I was sitting on. I knew what it was because Jake kept screaming in my ear. Oh yeah, Jake is the little guy that sits on my shoulder and talks to me.

I was beginning to experience what others had told me they had experienced. Little did I know that what I was experiencing at the time was nothing as to what I would be experiencing later on. Jake let me know that he had experienced what I was beginning to experience and the fact that I knew he was right made me mad. I didn’t want nor did I need this experience, not now, not ever but I was beginning to experience this unpleasant occurrence nonetheless. By now I was one hurting puppy still a long way from home. Neither Jake, nor I had said the word, but I had enough sense to understand that if I never said the word I still had what that word was. I had all the symptoms such as itchiness, pain, burning, and the awful feeling that something huge was where something huge shouldn’t be. I had me a case of the hemorrhoids!

I found myself in a dilemma that was becoming more unbearable as time went on. I not only had hemorrhoids but those bad boys were angry. You can say what you want but I heard them growling, snarling, and even being downright nasty with one another. On top of all this I would see people staring at me. I must have had an anguished look on my face, or was it the way I was walking, or the way I was sitting? Here I was hot and tired, hundreds of miles from home, looking uglier than usual, with those big, bad boys back there causing me pain and misery.

Just a little side note here: if I remember correctly this trip was unauthorized by Mom Mom. When you have a gang of angry hemorrhoids working on you and Mom Mom is back at the farm waiting to work on you….you had a real problem. Having one of those two would require medical attention, but to deal with both, causes you to look at death as a friend. Things weren’t going to get better any time soon.

I’ll be back later to continue with, “Fire in the Hole,” as there is much more to share with you. In the meantime I have to go check on the inmates, I mean clients, take my nut pill, get Charlie ready for the radio show today, and see if Travis will fix those squeaky doors. Thanks for stopping by, tell all your friends and neighbors to drop in, leave some comments, and ask some questions. Hey, when you leave a comment or ask a question let us know where you’re from. Don’t forget to listen to the radio show while you’re reading the articles. We’ll be on the air again today……we’ll be announcing the time so check in often.

Things Are Getting Hot

Written By: Msernestine - Oct• 12•11

Week five in the Crumbpacker’s Fantasy Football League saw resurgence by some teams while others have continued to spiral to their lowest depths. At kickoff time on Sunday there were three teams tied for first place in Division 1. As the gun sounded the end of Monday night’s game, one team set alone in the top spot, that being Jenna’s Jungle who now has a record of 4-1.

Mike’s Nuckinfutjobies and Lori’s Little Rascals who started the season with three straight wins have dropped their last two games. Kim’s Kritters beat the Rascals by 21 points and Jeff’s Redskins put one on the Nuckinfutjobies 161-147. The Nuckinfutjobies, the Rascals, and Kim’s Kritters all share second place.

Cheryl’s Nutcrackers destroyed Jeffery’s Lions by the score of 147-114. The Lions now occupy the cellar in Division 2 all by themselves with a record of 1-4. The Lions don’t seem to be the, “King of the Jungle’” right now. In fact they have gone from being lions, to being pussy cats, and another trip up Woodshed Hill yesterday has left the team not only battered, but humiliated to say the least. Things aren’t looking to good for the Lions right now.

The lone occupant of the cellar in Division 1 is Missy’s Mad Men which is owned by Thelma Louise Studabeggar. Jenna’s Jungle whooped up on Thelma’s team 129-85. This woman is becoming a menace to society in our world. Last week we sent out the warning that Thelma was to be avoided at all cost. She wasn’t armed but she was dangerous to anyone who might come in contact with her. This week she is, I repeat, she is armed and even more dangerous. With a record of 0-5 and numerous trips up the hill to the woodshed, Thelma has completely flipped out. Cindy, the Chief Psychiatrist here at the Funny Farm has a highly trained team of inmates searching high and low for Thelma.

Please follow the instructions NOTE: If you see this woman run away as fast as you can. Once you are safely away please phone the Funny Farm immediately.

In Division 2 Jeff’s Redskins and Travis’ Grumolinators are locked up with 4-1 records. The Grumolinators defeated Wade’s Misfits 130-95 which sent the Misfits to the woodshed for the first time this season. The Misfits slid out of first place and now shares second place with Georges’ Gorillas who are on a three game winning streak. Every team in the league sits up and takes notice when the gorillas start their charge. These three time champs are a force to be reckoned with.

In other action the Goofballs were sent to the shed by D&M Weiners. After the dust settled and the smoke cleared D&M outscored the Goofballs by 46 points. Nan’s Nimrods, owned by Gertrude Doflicky was beaten by the gorillas 140-116. Gertrude was only one point away from having to climb the hill. Her record now stands at a dismal 1-4. Gert’s door is hanging by one hinge too, and she is armed with that shotgun so look out.

Harvey is supposed to keep up with the Standing, Scores, and Matchup Page but due to his antics as of late, he has neglected his duty. I myself will try to update the page as soon as I can get free for a few moments. Please be patient with me. Everyone knows that Harvey is a goof!

Pops will give more details about the happenings in the league on his radio show today. I believe he’s going to put on a longer show that will cover so much more than usual. Don’t forget that you can listen to the show right here at, “The Espenblog.” Please continue to support our radio show and our blog. Tell all your friends and neighbors to drop in and pay us a visit. Someone just might decide to stay here with us. Are you as crazy as the rest of us yet?

Thanks for the comments….please leave more….ask us some questions and we’ll answer them on the radio show. This is Ms Ernestine saying, “I’ll see you later.”

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