Hello Dear Readers! It hit me like a ton of bricks that this blog has never taken it upon itself to discuss fashion. I’m so embarrassed I can’t even tell you! So without any further delay, here are some outfits that this blog highly recommends:
The I Wanna Hold Your Hand If I Can Find It Sweater
Say goodbye to those inferior two-arm sweaters once and for all, Dear Readers! Having to put your arms in the same old arm holes day after day is for suckers. This sweater will revolutionize your world especially if you happen to be a Type A personality! Now you can vacuum with one hand, and drink a glass of milk with the other — all while your sweater is hugging people goodbye!
The outfit that makes you want to dance!
Are you tired of only looking like a million bucks from the front, but then when you turn around to leave, you look like a buck fifty? Looking bad from the back is for suckers! Here’s an ensemble that will revolutionize how you look at 360 degrees 24/7/365. You’ll be so happy you’ll want to dance everywhere you go!
It’s Not Just an Outfit; It’s a Pot Holder!
Are you tired of always misplacing your pot holders and not being able to find them so you use your bare hands instead to remove that roast from the oven and end up in the burn unit at your local hospital? Being in the burn unit is for suckers! Here’s an outfit that will revolutionize oven safety. All you need now is a strong set of abs so that everything in the oven can be removed with your stomach all while, at the same time, making you look quite fetching!
Twin Outfits for Twins Who Don’t Want to Look Alike Because They Aren’t Twins
Are you tired of being mistook for your twin when you don’t even have a twin? Getting mistook for your twin is for suckers! These outfits will revolutionize individualism. Whether your style is to sneak into the park wearing a sailor hat in the dead of night to pick every single daffodils just cuz — or whether your style is more along the lines of a wanna-be 1903 motorist adventurer with a bad attitude, these outfits scream I AM NOT A TWIN! And if that doesn’t make the people in your life want to re-think their relationship with you, nothing will!
And there you have it, Dear Readers, this blog’s fashion recommendations. Please accept my apology for having waited so long to get around to it!
Hello Dear Readers. Sadly, it’s not always good times here at the blog. Sometimes we have to take time out from our fun to try to cheer up America’s most celebrated crybaby creative writer, Edgar Allan Poe.
So Edgar, what have you been up to lately? I hear you thought up another good idea for a story. Do you mind if I ask where the idea came from?
“It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived it haunted me day and night.”
Well, don’t let this hurt your feelings Edgar, but your brain is freakishly large, so it probably catches a lot ideas, it’s casting a big net as it were. But it doesn’t need to haunt you day and night, why don’t you go over to Nathaniel Hawthorn’s house and play Parcheesi. You had fun last time, didn’t you?
I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire.
Well, great! It sounds like you and Nathaniel had a lot in common then, so what’s the problem?
I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture — a pale blue eye with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold.
Well now listen, Edgar, everybody has their little idiosyncrasies. Look at you with the freakishly large brain. I bet Nat didn’t hold that against you? You’d be happier if you were less judgmental.
I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, thus rid myself of the eye forever . . .
Ha ha Edgar! That’s the spirit! A little joking goes a long way to brightening up one’s mood!
But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded — with what caution — with what foresight — with what dissimulation I went to work.
Ha ha Edgar! Oh I’m so glad you’re finally learning how to be a bit more playful. And what a straight face you’re keeping too!
I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever . . .
Ha ha ha! I think you might have just stumbled upon your inner comedian, Edgar!
I turn the latch of his door and opened it — oh so gently! and then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head . . .
You mean because of your freakishly large brain? ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha . . . Oh I’m laughing so hard, Edgar, my sides are hurting . . .
It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed.
Ah hahahahaha! Oh that funny melon head of yours! Ha ha ha!
And I did this for seven long nights . . .
Look at you, Edgar! I am so proud of you! I think you are actually cheered up this time. In fact, let’s just cancel that cheering-up appointment for next Tuesday, shall we?
With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once — once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him . . . his eye would trouble me no more.
Okay, well, anyway, I gotta get going. Nice chatting with you.
He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.
Oh. Well, as long as you’re feeling better, that’s the important thing, I guess. But maybe we better keep that cheering-up appointment after all. How does next Tuesday at 2:45 work for you?
Join us next Tuesday at 2:45 Dear Readers, when we will be continuing our ongoing effort to cheer up Edgar Allan Poe.
Hello friends and welcome to the post that is going to change your life!
Have you ever wanted to be a bestselling novel writer but thought it was too complicated or would take too long?
Well think no more! Renowned Bestselling Novel Writer Wannabe Linda Vernon will have you mastering the art of writing a bestselling novel before the end of this post. After all, they don’t call her Renowned Bestselling Novel etc. etc. for nothing!
So let’s begin, shall we?
Step One: Obtain a Vocabulary
To become a bestselling novel writer, the first thing you are going to need isare is some words. Here are (or is) some common places where words can be obtained:
1) Coming out of people’s mouths
2) Written on books, pamphlets, and brochures.
3) Scrawled on park benches
4) Cash register receipts
5) Government documents
6) Under rocks
7) Carved into trees
8) Hidden in tattoos
9) Crop Circles
Now that you are an EXPERT on how to find words, the next thing you will need is a bucket in which to place the words you just obtained like I did:
Step Two: Find a Lucky Charm
Bestselling authors have always known that to be successful, they must beg, borrow, or scrape off the bottom of someone’s shoe a lucky charm.
Renowned Bestselling Author Wannabe Linda Vernon suggests you purchase an authentic Evel Knievel Lucky Charm Coin that renowned stuntman, Evel Knievel, kept in his pocket each time he performed a motorcycle stunt.
Yeah, he did break every bone in his body every single stunt, but think what would have happened if he HADN’T been carrying his lucky charm!
Artist’s Rendering of the Evel Knievel Coin
Step Three: Dump and Title
Now that you have successfully obtained your words and ordered your lucky charm, it is now time to dump you Lil’ Bucket o’ Words onto the pages of your novel. (Depending upon how quickly your computer copy and paste function works, this should take no more than one to two seconds.)
Now for the fun part! Coming up with a title for your bestselling novel!
To save you time, Renowned Bestselling Novel Writer Wannabe Linda Vernon has taken the liberty of designing a One-Title-Fits-All-Genres book cover design she guarantees they won’t be able to pull off the bookshelf fast enough!
And there you have it, dear reader/bestselling novel writer! You are now a bona-fide Bestselling Novelist. If you don’t feel any different, don’t worry, it might take a couple of hours before this post takes effect.
Rear Admirable Rasputin Riboflavin pondered the particulars of his forearm and the freshly inked tattoo thereupon that read “Kendall Labra Forever.” He had never been so full of regret in his life.
Rasputin looked over at Commodore Shutthedore who was sleeping on the floor. Oh balderdash! It had been another one of those nights!
One didn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes, to grasp the extent of the reveling that occurred during the height of the euphoria at last night’s annual British Navy Tupperware party.
Rear Admirable Rasputin Riboflavin hated himself for what he had become. A Tupperware fiend. Some officers could take it or leave it. But not Rear Admirable Rasputin Riboflavin. He could only take it.
If only he weren’t so hell bent on preserving his leftovers in perfectly-engineered containers with their alluring interchangeable lids. If only he could be transported back in time, before he ever heard of Tupperware and before he ever met beautiful Tupperware Consultant, Kendall Labra, whose name was now engraved in his Rear-Admiral forearm forever.
A set of six, neatly-stacked Fridge Stackables lay at Rasputin’s feet. They were blue — a shade of blue that reminded him of something. But what? The blue of the Indian Ocean on a clear day beneath a cloudless sky? Or perhaps the blue of a Singapore Blue tarantula lazing on a leaf in the late afternoon Malaysia jungle?
Oh who was he kidding? Of course he knew that blue! It was the blue of Kendall Labra’s tempestuous eyes, a blue that flashed like a set of 16-ounce turquoise tumblers the day she left him to run away with Jimmy VonJanuary — taking her entire Tupperware collection with her –and leaving nothing in her wake but Rasputin’s broken heart and lots of spoiled leftovers.
“Say old chap!” Commodore Shutthedore was awake now. Hadn’t we best be getting back to the battleship? The war will be starting soon.”
Rear Admiral Rasputin Riboflavin nodded solemnly and unrolled his sleeve until Kendall Labra’s name disappeared.
Hello Dear Readers! Welcome to Linda’s Incomprehensive Guide to Exercise. Let’s dig right in, shall we?
History of Exercise: 1950 to 1959
The only kind of exercises that existed in the 50’s were jumping jacks, deep knee bends and squats and nobody did them without being forced to do so by a P.E. teacher, a football coach or a drill sargent. Those were the good old days when people ate anything they wanted and only went for walks to commune with a pack of Salem Cigarettes.
“Gosh, honey, it’s really pretty here when the smoke clears!”
History of Exercise: 1960 to 1969-ish
In the 60’s, exercise boiled down to a little globule of a man named Jack LaLanne. Every day millions of everyday women would stand in front of their television sets to watch tiny Jack LaLanne cutely dressed in a teeny-weeny, one-piece jumpsuit, doing deep-knee bends while singing the praises of vitamins and veggies. He is still alive to this day but, unfortunately, has continued to shrink little by little over the years and, sadly; is now only visible through a microscope.
Here’s Jack trying not to shrink out of his tux.
History of Exercise: 1970-ish to 1980-something or other
Somewhere around in here we got Jane Fonda. Jane was a busy Seventies Gal running around in her shag haircut winning academy awards, making aerobic videos and being against the Viet Nam War.
Everywhere you looked there was Jane Fonda shagalistically shorn in her leotards and leg warmers stretching, reaching, pulling, clawing and cloying. Looking back it was quite Hanoi-ing. But she single-handedly started the Aerobics Craze so you have to hand it to her — or trip her whichever you prefer.
Can it get anymore Hanoi-ing?
History of Exercise: 1980-something to somewhere in the 90’s on up
Somewhere in here Richard Simmons skipped onto the scene. What Richard Simmons had going for him was a heart of gold combined with an uncanny ability to sweat to pop songs that weren’t popular anymore.
Richard won over the hearts of Americans by crying tears of happiness about how he used to be fat but wasn’t anymore; and he didn’t want you to be fat anymore either because it made him cry because you’re so, so fat and he’s not fat anymore.
Lately however Richard Simmons seems to have fallen off the face of the planet . . . or was pushed.
Richard Simmons, Sweating Professionally Since 1979
Present Day Exercise: 2015 to To-Be-Determined
In the interest of brevity, let’s be brief. Exercise today boils down to one word: Bicycling. But not the old-fashioned kind of bicycling we all knew and loved in the 1950’s. When bike riding simply meant hopping on our bikes wearing jeans and a tee-shirts and riding around the block while smoking Salem Cigarettes.
“Hey, honey, I think somebody stole our bikes!” “Don’t worry, they can take our bikes out of the country but they can’t take the Salem out of our lungs!” “Oh, honey, I love you!” “I love you too!”
Now Riding a Bike is Groovy!
There’s a new, groovy way of riding one’s bike called cycling. When cycling one must take up an entire car lane and pretend that one can pedal as fast as a car.
This is hard to pretend without the proper “pretending apparel” called cycling apparel which is a necessary technical piece of equipment necessary to make you comfortable technically while pretending to ride your bicycle as fast as a car can go.
It also helps if you make a “vroom, vroom” noise under your breath as you pedal along.
” Vroom! Vroom! I’m a blur!”
The New Groovy way of riding bikes can be a bit dangerous in heavy traffic, sure, but not too worry. For every bicyclist that is run over by a car, a pedestrian somewhere in the world is being run over by a bicyclist. So you see, it all evens out in the end.
Pottery Fragments Discovered by Archaeologists from China and France
A team of Chinese archaeologists working side by side with a team of French Archaeologists and only sometimes getting in each other’s way, have discovered pottery fragments in a cave in Maiden, China now thought to be 20,000 years older than the pottery fragments of the Chinese family who are currently living in the cave.
“The pottery was probablyused to cook food and/or water in.” Dr. Wang Lung Wang has been interpreted as saying by French Archaeologist, Jacques Pierre Jacques who claims to speak Chinese.
“The pottery was used by hunter gatherers,” added Jacques Pierre Jacques, who holds a one-year Doctor of Archaeology Certificate from Yoplait Community College and who has been a leader in hunting and gathering pottery fragments of hunter gatherers for the last 37 years (except for the year he had to have his spleen removed).
In an unprecedented display of cooperation between French Archaeologists and Chinese Archaeologists, both teams agreed everyday during the excavation to order a large pepperoni pizza with olives and green peppers and split it so that both teams got exactly the same amount of slices.
The Oldest Known Rock Art in Britain Has Finally Been Discovered
A team of French Archaeologists led by renowned French Archaeologist, Jacques Pierre Jacques, (see above) has stumbled upon the oldest known rock art in Britain. After tripping over some pottery fragments in a cave in Shrapnailshire, England, Jacques Pierre Jacques (who has a terrible time seeing in the dark) stumbled upon a rendering of either a mosquito or a bison — he is unable to ascertain which one for certain until the French Archaeologists Team flashlight arrives.
Gold Coins of the Past
Thirty-Seven ancient gold coins produced in Holland were discovered underneath some oily rags in the basement of 1515 Cherry Rose Lane, Ottoman, Canada by Renowned French Archaeologist, Jacques Pierre Jacques while he was residing at the home of his brother-in-law, Pierre Jacques Pierre, until some personal business of Jacques Pierre Jacques (which can all be explained) is cleared up.
Jacques Pierre Jacques estimates the coins to be worth somewhere in the neighborhood of $25,000 in today’s dollars (Canadian). The coins are thought to date back to the year 1732 because that is the year that is engraved on each of the coins; but Jacques Pierre Jacques insists on delivering the valuable coins, personally, to the lab for carbon dating.
Jacques Pierre Jacqueshas promised his brother-in-law that nothing untoward will happen to the gold coins on the way there and has even sworn as much on a stack of bibles that were produced shortly before the dawn of the middle ages.
Humorous Archaeology Happenings!
Last week in Ibuprofen, Germany, a team of French Archeologists led by Jacques Pierre Jacques unearthed the grave of what they thought was going to be the remains of a viking pillager villager –but turned out, instead, to be the remains of Mrs.Gustav Heidelburg who was buried just last Wednesday.
Two things put the tiny town of Panhandler, Pennsylvania on the map. One was its pan-handle factory and the other was its bowling alley, the Lucky Strike, run by Ivan “The Turk” Iverson, who, during his illustrious career as a professional bowler, started every game with a turkey. That is to say, he would bowl three consecutive strikes at the beginning of every tournament.
For years, The Turk enjoyed the charmed life of a professional bowler, giving bowling tips to heads of state, meeting with presidents at the White House to explain score keeping, and even discussing the pros and cons of his most beloved balls with the Queen of England!
Then one day — while The Turk was conducting his popular seminar Bowling Shoes: The Good The bad and The Ugly in the break room of the pan-handle factory — there was a horrible explosion, the result of which blew off both of The Turk’s thumbs and permanently parted his hair on the side, instantly rendering him just another ex-professional bowler with a stupid hairdo.
After that The Turk spent most of his time trying to kill himself. But without thumbs, he couldn’t tie a noose, get the lid off a bottle of sleeping pills or even get a razor blade out of its packet, much less slit his wrists with it.
Time passed and one day while The Turk was out in his garage trying to grab hold of the ladder so he could jump off the roof, his luck turned around when the phone rang.
It was the President wanting The Turk to come to Washington and be in his Bowling Cabinet. By now The Turk was penniless. But if he could figure out a way to get there, his troubles would be over . . .
So if you see a man with a funny hairdo just outside Panhandler, Pennsylvania trying to thumb a ride with his index finger, stop and give the poor guy a ride, will ya?
Hello Dear Readers! I am delighted to report that the other day, while I was milling around the thrift store, I came across this wonderful 1943 ad for Ipana Tooth Paste.
It was so endearing, so inspiring, so downright uplifting that I just had share it with you!
It seems feisty, first-aid, heroine, Kay Hunt was feeling pretty darn good about herself with her ability to whip up a traction splint as easily as she whipped up that batch of fudge last night — just as she did every night . . . all alone . . . with no one to talk to but her radio.
But in some sort of weird world war II gratitude, Kay Hunts’ traction-splint victim pointed out that she noticed — while Kay Hunt was taking two and a half hours to figure out how to tie a traction splint — that Kay Hunt didn’t brush her teeth before leaving the house.
She even went so far as to tell Kay Hunt her dingy smile and pink toothbrush are the reason Kay Hunt couldn’t get a date — even though Kay has a perfect figure and looks like a movie star (but of course she didn’t say that last part out loud.)
Now instead of getting mad and wrapping that traction splint around her victim’s catty little neck, our once feisty first-aid, heroine, Kay Hunt, became instantly inconsolable.
Luckily, Kay’s friend who was wearing a military uniform — thus making her superior in intelligence, common sense, and personal hygiene — attempted to comfort Kay Hunt by pouring large quantities of salt in her wound and agreeing that Kay really did need to brush her teeth at least as good as grade school children do and that nowadays the foods you eat won’t brush your teeth for you, which apparently used to be the case prior to World War II.
Enter Creepy Dentist and Ipana Toothpaste
So the next day our heroine Kay Hunt went to visit her oddly, creepy dentist who stood in such a way as to keep his distance from Kay lest he get a whiff of the air emanating from Kay’s . . . how to put this . . . dingy smile.
He explained to Kay(from across the room) that in order to get a date Kay will have to massage her gums with Ipana Toothpaste in order to stimulate them! Who knew? (Certainly not Kay!)
And boy did Kay feel sheepish having to be told this by her creepy dentist! But sure enough Kay went right home and massaged her gums ad nauseum!
The next thing you know, our feisty, first-aid heroine, Kay Hunt’s gums were so very, very massaged that she became a huge hit with the all branches of the armed services.
“I can thank this new-found smile of mine for winning me a military escort and a naval convoy!” gushed our feisty, first-aid heroine, Kay Hunt.
And that, Dear Readers is how our feisty, first-aid, world war II heroine, Kay Hunt, became a very, very busy girl for the rest of World War II.
I found this little 1949 booklet at the thrift store the other day.
Apparently, back in 1949, before Facebook was invented, people had to make friends with whomever (or whatever) they could scrape up.
Alright fine, but how hard up does a person have to be to count Pure Bicarbonate of Soda as one of their friends?
I’m talking to you people of 1949! What were you thinking making Bicarbonate of Soda your friend? Hello? . . . ok, fine don’t answer me.
I’ll make something up and say it’s true. That’s what you get for ignoring me!
Let’s start by pretending we live in 1949. What else were you doing today anyway. (I mean besides pretending to be working.)
As you know, the first thingto do when pretending anything is to rush over to Google and start asking a lot of unnecessary questions:
What was the cost of a first class stamp in 1949?
Google says: $.03 Who was the President of the United States in 1949?
Google says: “Harry S. Truman” Why did Newfoundland join the Canada Confederation?
Google says: “You’re joking right?”
How do you write 1949 in Roman Numerals?
Google says: “Get outta here kid, ya bother me.”
Well apparently Google got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. So let’s try to conjure up 1949 by using this picture from 1951 that I found in my baby book and subtracting 2 years from it in our minds.
As you can see from this picture of me and Mom, 1949 was rather bleak, stark and dark. On the upside, they did have doilies (one) and lamps (one) and a window (one).
And even though you don’t see any “friends” in this picture, I’ll bet you anything if you were to go into the kitchen, you would have found Mom’s besty, Pure Bicarbonate of Soda, relaxing on the kitchen shelf, at the ready for Mom should she suddenly need Dear ol’ Carby.
OK, now that our mindsare firmly ensconced in 1949, let’s just pretend something came up, and we are going to need our new BFF, Dear ol’ Carby, to come to the rescue.
Let’s say we were in need of . . . oh I don’t know maybe a . . . CASTER OIL SANDWICH?
Apparently back in 1949, there was some weirdness going on. First, that a Caster Oil Sandwich was actually on any menu at all, and second, that it was a sandwich you were suppose to :“Drink while effervescing.”
I don’t know about you, but I rarely effervesce when I drink sandwiches . . . but that’s just me.
What’s say we toddle backover to Google, shall we? And let’s ask Google why anybody would want to drink a Caster oil Sandwich:
Under what circumstances would someone drink a Caster oil Sandwich?
Google says: “Get outta here kid, you bother me!”
Fine be that way!
If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen with Dear ol’ Carby preparing a Caster oil Sandwich for our new besty, Goog.
Welcome Dear Readers to this Sunday’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories.
Gregory goes to Sunday School Every week, then comes home and retells his own version of the lesson.
Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday School this week shall we?
Fishing Jesus Style
One day, while Jesus was walking along the beach and soaking up some rays at the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers who were fishermen. One was named Simon who everybody called Peter and one was named Andrew who everybody called Andy.
The fishermen were casting their fishing nets into the sea to catch some fish to take home to eat for breakfast, lunch, dinner and a bedtime snack when Jesus climbed into Simon’s boat.
At least Jesus assumed it was Simon’s boat since it said Simon’s Bad Habit on the side in Hebrew. Jesus explained that He would like to teach the people standing on the shore from the venue of Simon’s fishing boat.
The conversation might have gone something like this:
Jesus:Hi Simon! I’m Jesus. Would you mind if I lecture the people who have gathered on the shore from you fishing boat.
Simon: Not at all! But it’s kind of messy, and I don’t have a podium or anything.
Jesus: Not a problem. It’s really more of an informal talk than a lecture anyway, Simon.
Simon:Sure that would be terrific. Oh and Jesus? Call me Peter, everybody does.”
But Jesus didn’t hear Peter say this as He had already started giving His talk. After that Jesus had some instructions for Simon:
Jesus: Push the boat out further to the deep water, and you and your partners can let down your nets for a catch, Simon.”
Simon: Sure, Jesus, I’d be happy to do that, but it’s Peter.
Simon: No I mean, I’m Peter.
Jesus: Then who’s Simon?”
Simon: I’m Simon.
Jesus: But you just said you were Peter.
Simon: I am Peter. My name’s Simon but everybody calls me Peter.
Simon: I don’t know. I was hoping maybe you’d know, Jesus.
Jesus: I have no idea, Simon.
After that Peter and his brother, Andy, let down their nets and caught such a large number of fish, their nets were about to break. So they motioned to the fishermen in the next boat to row over and help. All the fishermen started piling the fish into their boats until their boats were so full, they were about to sink.
At that point Simon Peter fell on his knees on top of all the fish. (Even back then fishermen had no problem kneeling on fish)
Simon:“Go away from me, Lord! I am a sinful man!”
Jesus: Don’t be afraid. From now on you will be catching men.
Simon: You mean mermen, Jesus?” (Simon Peter was never the brightest fisherman in the boat.)
Jesus: “No just regular men, Simon.”
Simon: “It’s Peter.”
Then they pulled their boats up on the beach and left them and all the fish and followed Jesus. Which was fine with the fisherman since they were all thoroughly sick of fish anyway.
And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School today. Please come back next week for another edition Gregory’s Bible Stories.
Welcome Dear Readers to this Sunday’s edition of the Gregory’s Bible Stories.
Every week, Gregory goes to Sunday School. Every week he comes home and tells about what he learned.
This week Gregory learned about King David. Let’s listen in as Gregory retells the lesson.
King David and the Ark of the Covenant Fudge
Once there was a king named David. David had excellent fine motor skills and began his meteoric rise to biblical stardom when he killed the giant, Goliath, with his slingshot. Biblical scholars all agree it would have been much cooler if David would have used a yo-yo but the only toy that had been invented up to that point was, unfortunately, the dreidel.
A couple days after David became king, he suddenly realized that, what with all the slaughterings, and what with all the crazy mix-ups with the Lord, they had completely forgotten about the Ark of the Covenant. D oy h!
When King David announced he was going to go pick up the Ark from the town of Kirjath-jearim, there was much rejoicing in the streets because not only was King David their sling-shot idol, but also he pronounced Kirjath-jearim in such a way that made it sound like “Hawaii”.
So the the entire population of Israel followed King David to Mr. Abinadab’s house in Hawaii (who had been using the ark as a coffee table) just as Mr. Abinadab and his two sons, Uzzah and Ahio, had decided to sell it in their yard sale.
When they saw that the entire population of Israel had shown up for the sale, they were flabbergasted because they hadn’t even bother to put up signs.
Luckily, the Ark of the Covenant hadn’t sold yet as Mr. Abinadab had a 25-goat price-tag on it, which was about 20 goats more than anyone was willing to pay for what looked like the world’s gaudiest coffee table. But King David was nothing if not a good negotiator:
King David: So how much you want for the gaudy coffee table?
Mr. Abinadab: We’re asking 25 goats.
King David: 25 goats? That seems a little steep. Does it come with coasters?
Mr. Abinadab: You don’t need any. You can set anything on it and it doesn’t leave a mark. I once put a hot pan of fudge on it — and not only did it NOT leave a mark, the fudge was heavenly!
King David: Hm. . . well I do love fudge. Will you take five goats for it?
Mr. Abinadab: How about twelve goats and a chicken?
King David: I’ll give you seven goats and half a chicken . . .
Mr. Abinadab: It will have to be seven goats and a whole chicken since I don’t have change for half a chicken.
Everybody watched as the ark was painstakingly lifted and placed in the royal ox cart. It was pretty heavy owing to the fact that it not only contained the ten commandments on stone tablets but also Mr. Abinadab had forgotten to remove his bowling ball collection inside.
King David: Listen, Mr. Abinadab, since you’ve been such a good sport, I’ll give your sons, Ahio andAzzuh, the honor of driving the royal cart containing the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem.
Mr. Abinadab: Uh . . . are you sure you want to do that? They just got their cart licenses and they’ve already racked up a couple of speeding tickets.
King David: Ha ha! Well that’s to be expected. Don’t tell me! 2 mph in a 1 mph zone?
Mr. Abinadab: No, 3 mph in a 1 mph zone!
King David: How is that possible?
Mr. Abinadab: Tailwind.
As the cart began to move, there was a loud burst of music as David and the Israelites (who later became the Tabernacle Choir), started singing, playing harps, timbrels, cymbals, trumpets and something called psalteries which biblical scholars believe was a type of musical pastry.
Everybody was just so darn happy until the wind picked up and Ahio took a corner a little too fast and nearly dumped the Ark. His brother, Azzuh, put his hand on the ark to keep it from falling and died instantly.
Naturally, this was a biblical buzz kill of epic proportions and King David realized that in order to carry the ark from Hawaii safely, they would have to stop every six steps and make a sacrifice to the lord which slowed down their progress considerably.
Some months later, when the Ark was finally back in Jerusalem, and King David had his feet up on his new coffee table Ark, he couldn’t help thinking about what a great guy Mr. Abinadab and his twoone son had been. Not only that, but his Ark of the Covenant Fudge was heavenly.
And there you have it, Dear Readers, this week’s edition of The Bible According to Gregory. Please come bynext week at this time to see what Gregory learns in Sunday school!