Hello Dear Readers! Today we have a Halloweenie Trifecta Writing Challenge. Our challenge is to write a 33-word response to the story of Felicia Felix-Mentor.
In 1937, a naked woman was found limping through the streets of Haiti. Upon interrogation, she was unable to give any details as to her identity. The woman was eventually identified in hospital as Felicia Felix-Mentor. The only issue is that Felicia Felix-Mentor had been dead for nearly twenty years. Felicia was, therefore, a zombie.
My Dinner Party in Honor of Felicia Felix-Mentor
Felicia Felix-Mentor stared straight ahead fingering her Beef Stroganoff.
“More tea Felicia dear?” I asked.
“I’m dead.” Felicia repeated for the hundredth time.
I sighed and resigned myself to a very long evening.
Hello Dear Readers! Here’s a little something I fished from the archives for you that I hope you will enjoy, because sometimes — in order to appreciate the weekend a little more — it’s good to remember, “Yay! We’re not dead yet!”
The Lighter Side of the 2012 Apocalypse
Getting Through 2012
I’m planning to live at least until age 90, and I better not be disappointed or there’s going to be trouble. (What kind of trouble and with whom is yet to be determined.) Since I’m going to be 60 soon, I figure I’ve got the last third of my life still to go. Assuming, of course, we get through 2012 okay.
Were the Mayan’s Just Nervous Nellies?
I’m banking on the fact that the Mayans — who got us all worried about 2012 in the first place — were simply Nervous Nellie types who were an easily embarrassed, socially-awkward group of people. Perhaps what THEY would consider an apocalyptic nightmare, WE would consider nothing more than an awkward situation.
Crunching My Own Numbers
I suppose this is as good a time as any to confess that when it comes to theories about time, space and things of that ilk; I prefer to crunch all my own numbers. I guess I’m just old-fashioned that way. And my numbers don’t mind being crunched either. They can stay flat for days and spring right back into their original shapes the minute I remove the rock.
The Number Zero
Take the number zero, for instance. Any third-grade mathematician will tell you that if you multiply any number by zero you will get zero.
Just for Argument’s Sake
So let us say, for argument’s sake, that you have seven oranges. Let’s also say, for argument’s sake, that oranges give you a rash so you won’t be eating any during this demonstration.
Let’s also say, as well, that you live in an alternate universe so as not to complicate things with the pesky laws of physics and other overly fussy things like that.
Let’s also say, for argument’s sake that oranges are dangerous. (Sorry to be doing all these things for argument’s sake, but argument tends to pitch a fit when things aren’t done for its sake.)
Why are we making the oranges dangerous? Because, Dear Reader, we’re going to need some motivation for making them disappear.
That’s right, I said disappear! So let’s lay all our oranges out on the table. Just in a straight line. Nothing fancy. Don’t let any of them roll off. Now run and get a marking pen and next to the seven oranges write neatly: 7 x 0 = 0. HA!! Now, mathematically, you have zero oranges!
So where did all the oranges go?
I’ll bet you my entire life savings that some crazy, socially-awkward Mayan in an alternate universe ate them.
But before you take that bet, be forewarned! I crunch all my own numbers.
Dear Readers! Wait til you see what came in the mail for me today from AAA!
Now I don’t want to brag (well I do but I don’t want to look I do), it just so happens that this big, huge corporate conglomerate that goes by the name of American Automobile Association has made yours truly one of their “Special People!”
Here’s what AAA is offering:
AAA wants me to give them money every month for the rest of my life until I die and then –once I’m dead, they’ll give a little bit of that money back to the person in my family who I like the best — and keep the rest for themselves. But there are other things too that maybe make it a better deal than it sounds like so far, such as:
Which means if I don’t die within 31 days, I’ll get my money back or maybe it means if I do die within 31 days I’ll give them their money back . . . well, either way I’ll probably be dead so I guess it doesn’t matter that much.
Uh oh. I often use nicotine to remove paint from my clothing . . . but please don’t mention this to AAA, it will just complicate things if I decide to accept their offer.
Let’s see . . . so AAA is giving me “peace-of-mind” protection so I’ll be okay with dying until I”m 80 but after that, they apparently don’t give flying fig if I’m worrying a lot about my demise . . . frankly, that kind of rubs me the wrong way.
Notice the little cross by the word required. Does that mean that AAA is saying NO medical exam required with its fingers crossed behind its back? It sort of seems like it.
You know what? Let me just make a call to the AAA Operator who is standing by and ask her if I should take advantage my AAA Preferred Status Privileges.
Barney’s Answering Service.
Oh, I was calling AAA . . . is this AA A?
Hi, yes I was wondering if I should sign up for AAA’s Preferred Status Privileges?
I don’t know, lady, I just want to sit down.
Oh . . .Okay, thank you, bye.
Thank you for calling Barney–uh –I mean AAA.
And there you have it, Dear Reader! What came in the mail today for me, Linda Occupant Vernon.
Today we are going to put away our mirth, store our humor in the overhead storage compartment and put a lid on our collective jar of Hardy Har Hars — so that we may take a serious look at a trend from 1959 that is so disturbing, so bizarre, so downright twisted that, frankly, we really don’t even want you to read the rest of the post . . . okay fine go ahead and read it . . . but you’ve been warned!
The Edible Horror of 1959
As you can see, this 1959 cook book is trying to pass itself off as an innocent Metropolitan Cook Book featuring foods that are not only delicious and nutritious, but also, foods that appear to have a wonderful outlook on life, a cheerful disposition and an enviable outgoing vivaciousness that would light up a room!
Looks innocent? Look again!
But even though things seem innocuous enough on the surface what these pictures are actually depicting is the sick, brain-washed, utopian edible world of 1959 wherein innocent foods have been programmed into wanting to be eaten.
As evidence, let us take a look at this unsettling illustration:
Here we have meat that has been obviously drugged so that it can be paraded before the eyes of carnivores — by its very own offspring as they wave parsley in an attempt to draw attention to their very own parent’s deliciousness! What in heaven’s name was going on in 1959?
And in another equally unsettling illustration we see this:
Here carrots, radishes and onions are happily waiting in line to be dipped into a boiling caldron of soup! Notice the mindless smiles and the blank affectations in the eyes of indoctrinated vegetables as they so willingly and cheerfully give their lives to this 1959 Orwellian soup du jour! Oh the vegumanity!
And it just keeps getting worse:
Here we have an apple throwing a pie in its OWN face in some sort of sick prelude to the eating of said pie. Thank the good lord, cruel practices such as this do not go on in the present day.
And finally we must insist that all children be out of the room before scrolling down to this final example of 1959 edible horror:
Here we see a strawberry about to take a big bite of sorbet made out of Sister Stawberry! We witness Pear munching delightedly on Brother Pear Pudding and Apple enjoying applesauce made entirely of Mother and Father Apple!
These are images that will forever sully the once pristine synapses of our heretofore innocent brains. I’m sorry Dear Readers to have to do this to you! But you were warned!
Hello everyone, my name is Candy Crawley and I will be the moderator for tonight’s second Presidential debate.
“Gentlemen, my first question is for President Obama. What number is the loneliest number?”
“As the president of the United States for the last four years, Candy, I can definitely say that the loneliest would be the Number One!”
Okay thank you. Now Mr. Romney it’s your turn. What number would you say is the loneliest number?
“I’ve been saying all along ever since I was the boss of the whole Olympics in Utah that the loneliest number is the Number One, Candy!”
“Now wait just a minute, Candy, my opponent, Governor Romney says the loneliest number is the Number One , Candy, but lookee! He’s holding up three fingers, Candy! Lookee! Lookee!”
“Now just a doggone minute there! I stated the loneliest number was Number One even before I even walked out on stage even, Candy!”
“I’m sorry, Governor Romney, I just gotta wipe off that jam, it’s really buggin’ me.”
Okay, Gentlemen, I’m afraid that’s all the time I can give you on jam gentlemen. We must move on.
“But Candy! I didn’t get to say how I got jam on my suit!”
I’m sorry we must move on! I’ve got a question from one of the 82 uncommitted voters . . . yes what is your question, sir?”
“Hello. My name is Al Gore. I would like to know if either of the can-di-dates know of any stores close by that sell Funyuns?”
“Mr. Gore that is not a question that we are going to waste time on this evening. If you were hungry for Funyuns, you should have purchased a bag of them before you came to the debate tonight like I did!”
“Now don’t be so hasty, Candy. As President of the United States, it just so happens I brought a bag of Funyuns with me to the debates tonight, and Al Gore can have my bag of Funyuns! After all, Al Gore invented the internet, Candy!”
“Now wait t just a doggone minute, Candy! I brought a bag of Funyuns too AND a jar of Olympic Commemorative Jam — all the way from Utah. Al Gore can have my bag of Funyuns AND my jar of jam! It’s the least I can do for a guy who invented the internet. I insist!”
“Well, America, I think we know who’s going home the clear winner tonight, and that is Mr. Global Warming and Internet Inventor, himself, Al Gore! So what do you have to say about that Al?
“The future will be better tomorrow.”
I think that says it all America, don’t you? I’m Candy Crawley and thank you for watching.
Dear Readers! Wonderful news! The Science Channel Lady has been kind enough to drop by the blog today and answer some questions for us! We couldn’t be more delighted!
Here’s our first question for you Science Channel Lady:
Ha! Now this is a question that keeps me up at night! Thinking about books and pencils and other things too like oxygen and hydrogen and carbon dioxide and how I attended junior high school with Carl Sagan!
Which reminds me . . . did I mention yet that plutonium is an element that is heavier than uranium? Because it is you know! I don’t care who you are. You could be the President of the United States or you could be Betsy Sue Parker who went out with Carl Sagan in junior high school for about three days! Ha!
Obviously Carl didn’t have any idea that Betsy Sue Parker didn’t know plutonium was heavier than uranium like I did — or he would have never EVER asked her to the Valentine’s Day dance. He would have asked me. That’s who he would have asked. He would have asked MEEEEEEEEE!
Okie Doke! Let’s move onto the next question quickly.
Hmmm. . . well all I know is that when I went to junior high school with Carl Sagan, I remember that Carl went out with both of them at the same time for about two whole weeks!
And you know how they say two heads are better than one? Well not in their case. I know for a fact that neither one of them knew that Alcaligenes paradoxus was on the list of approved bacterium. They thought it was on the list of bacterium waiting to be approved. Can you imagine?
I can’t think what Carl Sagan saw in those two air heads or why he let them take him to the Sadie Hawkins dance when he should have gone with me. MEEEEEE!
Okie Doke. Fortunately we only have time for one more question Science Channel Lady.
Hmmm . . . that depends. Let me use an example from when I attended junior high school with Carl Sagan. You see, Carl liked a lot of girls who I would have to categorize as dogs– intellectually speaking, of course! For instance, he once liked a girl who failed to start every sentence with “according to the laws of physics” like I did! (What a woof!)
And frankly, just between you and me and the Unified Field Theory, Carl was a great big chicken. Otherwise he would have had the courage to go out with me. MEEEEEEEE!
Okay! That’s all the question we have time for today Science Channel Lady. Thank you for coming by.
Okay. But did I mention that Carl Sagan went to junior school with me. MEEEE!
There is troubling news afoot! Pottery Barn has issued an official all points bulletin to alert the public that Pottery Barn’s beloved Grams is missing!
According to the above pictured white board Grams left on Labor Day to go truffle hunting in the Pottery Barn Sustainable Forest (that Pottery Barn and Pottery Barn only has dibs on!) and hasn’t been seen since! And frankly, Dear Readers, Pottery Barn is starting to get worried!
Have You Seen This Person?
Naturally Pottery Barn is beside itself with concern and has placed a call to their enclave of Master Crafters headquartered in a barn made of pottery deep in the secret sustainable forests utilizing this Pottery Barn Grand Retro-Styled Phone: featuring flash, push buttons and redial, $59 — but, unfortunately, PB just keeps getting the answering machine (also retro-styled $79 – metal finish).
Pottery Barn Investigators were able to trace Gram’s trail (by following the crushed walnut shells and orange peels – Grams’ favorite snack) to this outdoor sitting area featuring Pottery Barn’s FSLIC-certified solid eucalyptus Chesapeake Collection Sectional $2,748 (free shipping).
After that, the Pottery Barn Bloodhounds were then able to sniff out a trail leading to this beautiful Kensington Tilt Mirror framed in rust resistant solid brass. Trackers are pretty certain that Grams jumped out of the window reflected therein.
Pottery is as bitterly disappointed as you and I, Dear Readers, that they, as yet, have not been able to locate Grams. But they have vowed to keep looking until they either find their beloved Grams or get tired of looking! Until then, Pottery Barn will be holding a candlelight vigil/candle sale at a Pottery Barn stores nationwide.
Until next time . . . if you see Grams remember there’s $15 in it for you!
Hello Dear Readers. On this blog’s never-ending quest to uncover some of the most unappetizing foods ever trotted out in front of the human race, I am pleased to share my latest findings in the form of:
This cookbook from 1934:
Here’s Mary Hale Martin, herself, smiling enigmatically:
Anyway, let’s take a little journey back in time to marvel at what people actually put in their mouths in 1934 or as it is sometimes referred to by Food Historians, 193gore:
Baked Spinach 193gore Style!
In case you’re wondering how to measure a speck, I have it on good authority that you simply show the can of Nutmeg to the spinach and then put it back in the cupboard.
(And I don’t have any idea what Mary’s rich white sauce was but since it was concocted during the Great Depression, I have a feeling it wasn’t all that rich.)
In the mood for a little 193gore Salmon Pie?
See there’s nothing in it that will hurt you. No need to be frightened. But if you look closely you will see that Mary has finally come to fiscal terms with the white sauce and has downgraded it from rich white sauce to thick white sauce. Which is why Mary comes across as someone we can trust — even if she does smile like The Mona Lisa.
And now for the Ultimate 193gore Treat: Luncheon Tongue Sandwich!
That Mary does it again! She has cleverly stuck one can of Libby’s lunch tongue in between an entire loaf of rye bread, 12 pieces of bacon and three tomatoes. Then peppered it with pickles and even went so far as to throw in a very exotic 193gore ingredient called Lettuce! And all to keep that luncheon tongue from wagging!
Plus Mary has wisely chosen not to mention which animal’s mouth the tongue originally occupied.
Hello Dear Readers! Today we are going to talk about the missing link!
As you may or may not know, scientists, archeologists, anthropologists and other groups whose professions end in “ist” have been searching for the missing link for– what seems like to you and me — thousands and thousands of years, but for them only seems like about 3 days because they are having so much fun!
But apparently, the missing link is still hiding in the last place they have yet to look!
So just what is the missing link and why is it missing?
As far as I can ascertain, the missing link is the telltale piece of evidence that proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that mankind evolved from apes.
Apparently the fact that many of us eat bananas for every meal and have hair in lots and lots of unwanted places doesn’t mean diddly squat to Professional Missing Link Hunter-ists.
Every once in a while an overzealous anthropologist operating under the influence of too many Tootsie Roll Pops claims to have found the missing link. The story usually goes something like this:
Distinguished Professor of Anthropology, Dr. Flid Flad-Floid, PhD, MD, MS, MBA, ASAP, was found wandering around the Mohave desert after his wife kicked him out of their 1975 Winnebago during a heated argument over the alphabet — where he managed to trip over the fossilized wishbone of what he believed to be that of a child who was neither human nor ape, fish nor fowl — but something inbetween!
Dr. Flid Flad-Floid is no longer in possession of the fossilized wishbone in question, however, having made a wish on it (that it would, please, please be the missing link!) and completely ruined the evidence.
The Latest Missing Link Discovery
On May 29, 2009, German Paleontologist, Jorn Hurum, discovered a missing link he named Ida, which, he says, bridges the gap between monkeys and apes and their more distant relatives lemurs (the ones who never get invited to Thanksgiving dinner).
“This is the first link to all humans,” Hurum of the National History Museum in Oslo Norway decided to say, “and Ida represents the closest thing we can get to a direct ancestor without using ancestry.com.” Hurum was stopped just short of saying.
Ida is a lemur-like skeleton featuring primate-like characteristics including grasping hands, opposable thumbs, clawless digits and a smile that would light up a room!
“From this time period, there are very few fossils, and they tend to be an isolated tooth here or maybe a tailbone there, here a bone, there a bone, everywhere a bone bone.” Hurum wishes now he would have gone on to say.
In any case scientists were able to examine fossil evidence of fur and soft tissue and even picked through the remains of Ida’s last meal; stating it tasted stale.
All the scientists involved have made a pact to remember to bring sack lunches next time.
And there you have it Dear Readers, an up to the minute report on The Missing Link!
Hello Dear Readers! Well, we made it through another breakneck week in the wild, wild blogosphere!
It wasn’t easy. Different combinations of the alphabet were flying at us from all directions. We had to carefully navigate through a sea of punctuation, while at the same time, we had to keep from getting pierced by some really good points! But, of course, there’s nothing us Jolly Bloggers like better!
So here’s a little Friday Fun I hope you’ll enjoy! It was brought to you by none other than:
Sometimes I guess I’m a little bit . . . oh what’s the word I’m looking for, oh yeah — dumb.
I’ve had my horse, Joey, at his new stables for almost six month which means I’ve been to the horse supply store in that neighborhood numerous times.
Well, guess what I never even noticed was right next door?
An Antique Mall! (Which is code for overpriced thrift store, but still!) All this time, I could have been exploring their old books and magazines! Which just goes to show you that sometimes it pays to look right and left.
Anyway, I’m taking the day off from the blog today. I’m not going to write a post as much as I’m just going to sit here and leisurely browse through an old Saturday Evening Post from 1969 that I picked up yesterday at my newly discovered Antique Mall.
Here’s a car very much like the kind my mother always drove. They were roughly the size of three football fields. My mother owned many used cars in her life. But she was very discriminating in that she seemed to only want to buy the ones that had holes in the mufflers. You could always hear my mother coming a mile away. She would have made a horrible spy.
This was in an article entitled: The Enigma of President Nixon. I think the enigma is — how did Richard Nixon ever end up with such a nice family?
It says: ” . . . Don’t you think I’ve thought of that–I’d fire them in a minute only the severance pay would wipe me out.”
Gads people were unhealthy looking then! I wonder if it had anything to do with the cigarettes and alcohol? Maybe this was taken during the Great Lettuce Shortage of 1969.
Oh this is interesting. He’s so busy remembering things he completely forgot to flick his ashes.
Okay, I had to put my two-cents worth in on that one.
This man not only makes a living writing short paragraphs, he is the human living embodimentof a short paragraph! Which I guess just goes to show you that God always gets it right!
Well, that was a fun day off from the blog wasn’t it Dear Readers? Here’s a sneak peek of what we’ll be leisurely browsing through on our next day off:
Today we are going to explore the past via the magic of the pictures in “The Casserole Cookbook .” Let’s peek in on the perfect cartoon people of 1965 who populated cookbooks thousands and thousands of minutes ago.
Meet the Perfects of 1965.
There’s Father, Ken (smoking the pipe), and Mother, Kendra, (wearing the dress) and their children, Fine Young Lad, Kenny, and Girl the Size of a Newborn Baby with Abilities and Hair Far Beyond Her Years who goes by the name of. . . uh . . . oh, who cares what her name is, she’s a girl!
Oh, and there’s also their dog whose name is Spot (in accordance with the United States Government Bulletin Regarding Spotted Dog Names as mandated by item 14.4.3; pages 427.)
And then, of course, we can’t forget the Perfect’s two anti-gravity fish (both named Wanda) who are floating in the air above their heads just in case the Perfects get hungry . . . for fish.
The Perfects are watching a live television broadcast called The Casserole Cookbook Show.
At first glance, you would think they were overly interested in The Casserole Cookbook Show, But you see, the Perfects know they live inside of The Casserole Cookbook. So it’s kind of like when our astronauts went to the moon and sent back images of earth.
Guess what kind of casserole Kendra Perfect is planning to serve her husband, Ken, her Fine Lad, Kenny and her weird little girl, what’s her name?
If you guessed Roller Coaster Casserole you are not only right; you’re extremely lucky when it comes to guessing.
As you can see, Father Ken has changed into his tuxedo and grown a mustache in order to truly appreciate the subtle flavors of the Roller Coaster Casserole.
And Fine Lad, Kenny, has a huge smile on his face despite the fact that he was born with an inability to cross his legs.
And look! The Perfects have even gone to the trouble stacking up some government bulletins for weird little what’s her name to sit on so she can reach her fork!
And of course they are all raising their hands in the Roller Coaster Casserole Salute as Mother Kendra steps out from within the pages of their home planet to present her Perfect family with a Perfect Meal.
And lest we forget, their two fish (the Wandas) are still floating in the air above their heads only now they have been inserted into boxes and gift wrapped and marked with a big letter L! Why?
Because even the Perfect’s anti-gravity fish know that Roller Coaster Casserole is Lummy in Your Tummy!
Well, Dear Readers, this is probably a good time to bid adieu to the Perfects and let them enjoy their meal in peace by gently closing The Casserole Cookbook and allowing the them to just be perfect!
Until next time . . . I love you.