Limericks Based on Ads from 1953

Hello Dear Readers!  Well another week has rolled more or less away, and as we slide into Friday on this last day of November, we have to ask ourselves what was going on with ads from 1953?  (See how I did that great segue way?  Who says things don’t get done right on Friday.)

Here are some ads from a magazine called Better Living from 1953 that for some reason, my brain, Peanuts, insisted on boiling down into limericks.


There once was a product named Kleenex

That met you half-way when you sneezed next

Little LuLu and Godfrey

Got paid by the wad, see?

To get Father some money for Xanax.

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When poor fifties Mom must relax

After featherdust-wacking does tax

She chews Beechnut Gum

But it makes her feel glum

What she needed was Father’s Xan-ax!


There once was a little food dude

Who claimed Wilson’s B-V was a food

It subtracted from rents

Just one point five cents

But to like it, you had to be stewed.


There once was a man who wore lipstick

People thought him the consummate dipstick

He drank coffee that sounded

Like a law firm compounded

So his wife mixed his cream with some arsenic 

And there you have it, Dear Reader, the first installment and quite possibly the last installment of Limericks Base on Ads from 1953.

Until next time . . . I love you

Bizarre Postcard Captions

Hello Dear Readers!  It’s time for Bizarre Postcard Captions.

Well, that about does it for Bizarre Postcard Captions for today!

Until next time . . . I love you

This Week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge: Roweena Patina’s Tea Party

Hello Dear Readers!  This week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge was to write a story using the third definition of the word, hollow:: lacking in real value, sincerity, or substance : false,meaningless <hollow promises> <a victory over a weakling is hollow and without triumph — Ernest Beaglehole>

 Roweena Patina’s Tea Party

Roweena Patina was late for tea.   Her mother-in-law, Tulip Aarff, invited her three days ago and yet, somehow, Roweena didn’t know how, she completely forgot!

Now Roweena found herself racing through the streets of Van Schmoodenfloffen, at such a furious pace that one of her wooden shoes flung itself off just as she was passing the Van Windenflooffen Bakery.

And even though Roweena felt her shoe fly off — she was in such a tizzy, she didn’t even bother stopping to retrieve it — despite the aroma of Van Boozlephaffen Pie tempting her . . . tempting her . . . tempting her!

For you see, Roweena, had managed to pile on fifty-three pounds during the annual Glockenflockenfluff Fish Festival to the mighty chagrin of her mother-in-law, Tulip Aarff.

In fact, Tulip Aarff found Roweena Patina lacking discipline in every respect — both as a human being, in general, and as a daughter-in-law in particular.  Now, Tulip Aarff could add “fat” to her myriad list of Roweena Patina complaints.

For Tulip Aarff made it her hobby to find fault in the tiniest imperfections of her daughter-in-law’s personage.  And today, Tulip Aarff was about to hit the jackpot when it came to her favorite amusement.

When at last Roweena arrived at the double Dutch door of her mother-in-law’s cottage, she said a prayer for protection, then knocked.

“Enter this instant!” commanded Tulip Aarff.  “For the cold herring is getting warm and the warm tea is getting cold!”

When Roweena stepped inside with her shoeless foot, her disheveled apron and her bonnet hopelessly askew, Tulip Aarff gasped the Great Mother-in-Law Gasp of the Ages.

You’re late as usual!” Tulip Aarff barked.

With a hollow smile and a sugary, sweet voice, Roweena said, “I’m only late, my dearest mother-in-law, because I was baking you this  “special” Hagleslagen Cuppencaken!

When Roweena finished her tea, she bid Tulip Aarff a cheerful adieu. A cheerful adieu that Tulip Aarff failed to acknowledge, however, what with her being dead and all.

Tulip Aarff just before biting the Hagleslagen Cuppencaken dust!

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you


Photo from

How to Tell if You’re Going to Overdo Thanksgiving

Hello Dear Readers!  I love Thanksgiving!  It’s one of my favorite holidays.  Every year I cook for my family and every year I look forward to it with great pleasure.  Maybe a little too much pleasure.  That’s why I’ve come up with this list of warning signs on how to tell if you are going to overdo Thanksgiving.

How to Tell if You’re Going to Overdo Thanksgiving
Woman looking pensive with leaves on her head

You’ve replaced the phrase “I love you” with the phrase “Olive you”.

You just got back from Potato Mashing Immersion Camp.

You’ve instructed your surgeon to break ground on that new stomach addition.

Architect looking at plans
“So the way I see it, we can knock out a wall between the belly and the button, and we should have room for an entire bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy.

In preparation for the big feast, you’ve managed to diet down to a size bite.

Even if you were to carry out pi to a million decimals, all forms of pi will be polished off by Friday.

“Of course I didn’t eat all the pumpkin pie! You know I only like apple.”

You’ve taken to sleeping on a pillow of mini marshmallows.

Thanks to you and your voluminous Yam Stockpile the earth will be taking 6 days longer to orbit the sun.

Earth orbiting sun
“Gosh this week is really dragging by. What day is it?”

You made an appointment with your dentist to get your teeth sharpened.

Your new gravy boat sleeps six.

“Move over!”
“No you!”

Your husband Tom is slightly worried about you because his name is Bill.

You’ve been preheating your oven since the 4th of July.

You refuse to read, watch or listen to  anything that isn’t about Jello.

“Honey! Come quick! Look!  There’s Bigfoot!”
“Is he in the form of a Jello mold?”
“Is he carrying Jello?”
“Then I’m not going to look.”

And the most obvious way to tell if you’re going to overdo Thanksgiving:

Your appendix has been officially called back into active duty for the stomach reserves.

“Ten Hut!”


Until next time . . . Olive you

Trifecta Writing Challenge: Gone with the Jupiter Wind

This weekend’s Trifecta Writing Challenge is to write a story between 33 and 333 words utilizing three pictures that they have provided as prompts.

Gone with the Jupiter Wind

Vendle Grub maneuvered his craft around the Space Needle fast enough to be undetected by human eyes; but not so fast that he didn’t get a useable snippet of molecules from which to recreate a replica of it back on Jupiter.

You see, Vendle Grub was an Earth Aficionado.  There was nothing Vendle Grub liked better than collecting earth souvenirs for Jupiter’s Little Earth which is what Vendle called his backyard.

Of course, most of the landmarks Vendle collected would eventually blow away, living as he did in the eye of a 400-year hurricane of epic proportions, but Vendle persisted anyway, partly because he was determined, and partly because it was a good reason to get off the planet and away from the constant gurgling of his nagging wife, Davenportia — who couldn’t even be bothered to remember his name.

On their last trip to earth, Davenportia thought Vendle had taken entirely too many boring pictures.

One time, Vendle Grub brought back molecules from the Amazon jungle, and proceeded to recreate a replica of it in the backyard.  He down played it by telling Davenportia it was nothing more than a really big ant farm.

Jungle schmugle . . . it’s an ant farm!

Davenportia was okay with having the Amazon Jungle in her back yard at first.  In fact, she loved the Piranha (either mixed with yogurt or just straight out of the pond).  But neither one of them could ever figure out how to twist the tops off the bottle-nosed dolphins, and the yard work was ridiculous — so they were both relieved when it finally blew away.

When Vendle returned home with the Space Needle, Davenportia was overjoyed!  Finally what’s his name, brought home something useful! Davenportia poked some holes in some leather (a Jupiter token of love) using the her new Space Needle! When Vendle saw what Davenportia had made for him, he was deeply touched and took out his White Out (Jupiter’s version of the ballpoint pen) and scrawled lovingly:

hi! I’m­­­­­­­­­­­________and i’m completely inlove with you.V

But before he could hand it back, it blew away.
* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

What Came In The Mail

Dear Readers!  I gallivanted to my mailbox this morning, and discovered I had another suitor! 

It seems Xfinity is now in crazy, passionate occupant love with little ol’ moi! 

Ah!  Be still my beating letter opener!

First off, no matter what I decide about whether I’m going to allow myself to be “wooed” by Xfinity, they want me to know that this plastic card that was attached to the occupant love letter is mine to keep!

When it comes to occupant love, a plastic card is the equivalent of a diamond engagement ring except it’s not as sparkly, it can’t cut glass, and isn’t worth diddly, but still . . . .

Then there’s this:

Don’t worry, you don’t need to read it, it’s way too boring, (sigh) however I did read it and here’s what it more or less says:

  • If you pay Xfinity $30 every month, they’ll put security cameras all over your house so that if you decide to go to Hawaii, you’ll be able to sit on the beach and stare at your house on your smart phone to make sure everything is still not stolen every minute of every day until it’s time to come home.
  • Or it means you’ll be able to actually watch live on your smart phone as a burglar breaks into your house and steals all your stuff!
  • And Xfinity is also offering the handy feature of being able to control the lights in your home remotely so that while you are sitting on the beach in Hawaii you can turn the lights on in your house in order to better see the burglar who is stealing all your stuff.

Jeepers!  That’s a pretty good deal Xfinity is offering little ol’ moi!  Let’s see what other occupant tokens of love Xfinity is throwing at me to win my affections:

Oh Goody!  A touch screen controller . . .So when my grandson touches all the buttons trying to access Elmo, it will accidentally trigger the swat team to be dispatched to my house. Well, okay, that’s pretty cool.

And, with this 3 window/door sensors Xfinity is offering to provide me with much needed help when it comes to sensing which is a door and which is a window.  Well that’s over-the-top thoughtful!  I’m really liking the direction Xfinity is going in with this one!

Oh wow!  Every time we move, an alarm will go off at the police department!  Well, I’m all for that.  Who wouldn’t be?

Woo-hoo!  A keypad!  Xfinity doesn’t say what this if for but I think we all know by now, don’t we?  That’s right.  It’s the Xfinity Wireless Keypad to my heart! Because Xfinity has finally managed to woo me with their tokens of occupant affection.

All that’s left to say to Xfinity is,  “you had me at  “Dear Linda Vernon and/or Occupant:  My beloved OOXXOOXXfinity!”

And that’s what came in the mail today, Dear Readers.

Until next time . . . I still love you but not quite as much as I do you know who

Recapturing the Happiness of Being Ten!

Remember being ten?  When  life was fresh and easy and filled  with simple pleasures?

We were light as a feather when we were ten!  We turned cartwheels and skipped and hopped  for no other reason than because we could.

At ten, the present moment unfolded naturally. We just were and it just was. We were a part of “all that is” and our ten-year-old hearts knew it!

It was a time when we were sure about where we belonged in the world, and what was expected of us.  We were satisfied to accept each day as it came.  Most of us had no idea of what the future held nor did we care!

Oh we had our little setbacks. We laughed and we cried, but either way, we were real and true to ourselves.  Why?  Because we didn’t know any different.

We were traveling light – in a fresh, new world.

Me at ten, peeling the world’s largest potato!

This is is me at ten.  As you can see, I’m wearing an outfit that doesn’t match.  The skirt was red plaid and the sweater was blue and white plaid.  Did I care?  Of course not.  It was my most comfortable outfit, and I remember wearing it often.

I was at my grandparent’s house when this picture was taken,  and I had just learned how to peel potatoes. I remember being happy about that.  I was capable and I was making a contribution. Grandad even got out the camera, so I must have been peeling pretty impressively.

But, alas,  like everything else, the thrill of potato peeling eventually wore off (probably later that night).   So that today, the only thrill I get around potatoes is when they happened to be mashed with lots of gravy sitting on my plate.


Still, what if we were to take that essence of being ten and incorporate  into our everyday lives.  If we could somehow conjure up that feeling of having every possibility open to us —  unjaded and shining —  and with all the time in the world to explore!

What if  we could just look at life through the uncomplicated eyes of our ten-year-old selves — maybe we’d remember how it was when we were experts at life —  before we grew up and lost our way.

I say we go peel some potatoes?   I will if you will!


Until next time . . . I love you