Trifecta 33-Word Writing Challenge: My Dinner Party in Honor of Felicia Felix-Mentor

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.

Nobody could ever get a rise out of Felicia Felix-Mentor, that is until the day she rose from the dead!

Until next time . . . I love you

Fish it from the Archives Friday: The Lighter Side of The 2012 Apocalypse

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.

“Does this hat and scarf combo look like an apocalyptic nightmare? Be honest now”

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.)

Dangerous Oranges

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.

Until next time . . . I love you

What Came in the Mail

Dear Readers! Wait til you see what came in the mail for me today from AAA!

This came in the mail addressed to occupant which AAA somehow found out was my middle name! God love ’em!

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.

Ring

Barney’s Answering Service.

Oh, I was calling AAA . . .  is this AA A?

Yes.

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.

Until next time . . .I love you

The Edible Horror of 1959

Hello Dear Readers! 

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:

Family cannibalism!

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!

If it’s any consolation

Until next time . . . I love you

The Trifecta 33-Word Writing Challenge: Herman’s Plan to Get More Girls

This weekend’s 33 word Trifecta Writing Challenge is to come up a very short take on how sometimes it’s best to be careful what you wish for!

We are asked to write about three wishes that come as a high price to the wisher:

Herman’s Plan to Get More Girls

Herman woke up on a raft at sea with seaweed sticking to his head indicating something had gone horribly wrong with his wish for a deck, an ocean view and a new toupee.

“Well at least on a clear day I can see forever, I suppose.”

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

Guess Who Won the Second 2012 Presidential Debates

The Second 2012 Presidential Debates

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.  

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

A Visit from the Science Channel Lady!

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!

The Science Channel Lady

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!

Yeah we got that.

Okay.

Until next time . . . I love you