Things That Got Flushed That Hadn’t Oughta

Toilet with flowers Linda Vernon Humor

I don’t mean to brag, but I have been using “the facilities” on my own now for over fifty years, and I know, firsthand, some crazy things that got flushed that hadn’t oughta.

Once, when I was four, my mother bought a batch of the most beautiful red apples you ever saw and displayed them on the table.  I asked for one, and my mother gave it to me.

I was an apple lover from the get go!

I took one bite and spit it out.

That’s because this apple was a deceitful type of apple, the kind that looks like it’s going to be delicious but, instead, tastes like dry, sandy-mush.

A couple of days later, I must have forgotten how horrible the apple tasted because I asked my mother for another one.  And she agreed, but only if I promised I wouldn’t take just one bite and spit it out. Who me?  Heavens no! Mother! Please! Don’t be ridiculous! She handed me an apple.

I took one bite and spit it out.

Even Eve didn’t have so much trouble with an apple.

Later in the week, I happened to walk by the beautiful red apples that were still sitting on the table (now we know why) and asked for another one. My mother wisely said no because there wasn’t any questions in her mind, by now, what I was going to do.

Well for some reason, I was set on it.  I began begging dramatically.  “Please Mother! Please!  I won’t spit it out! For the love of God,  I beg of you! I must have an apple if I am ever going to thrive!”

My mother acquiesced, handed me yet another apple along with a stern warning that she better not find this one in the garbage with one bite out of it.

I took one bite and spit it out.

Ok, now I had a big problem on my hands.  Where to dispose of a big, beautiful red, sandy-mushy apple with one bite out of it.  I had to think, think! And quickly before my mother discovered the truth!

I made an emergency executive decision to flush it. So I went into the bathroom, looked both ways, threw the apple with one bite out of it into the toilet and pushed down the handle.

I was amazed when it actually went down!  Fabulous!  I dusted off my four-year-old hands and resumed playing.

Later that day I happened to walk by the bathroom just as my father was lifting the entire toilet off the floor.  I was flabbergasted!  I had no idea it would “do that!”

I still hadn’t put two and two together until I saw him reach his hand down the pipe and pull out a big beautiful red apple with one bite out of it.

Uh oh . . .

Shame quickly set it.  I couldn’t have felt worse if I would have gunned down Santa. But that’s another story for another day.

Suffice it to say, I’ve been privy to lots of things that got flushed that hadn’t outta — but it all started with that beautiful red apple with one bit out of it.

Until next time . . . I love you

The Drawing Lady Teaches Us How to Draw Like Degas

Dear Readers!  Good news.  I have finally managed to talk the Drawing Lady into coming by the blog again to give us another drawing lesson!    Now please remember, Dear Readers, that The Drawing Lady is a tortured artist and, as such, is as explosive as a Nitroglycerin Shirley Temple with a dynamite swizzle stick.  

Oh shh . . . here she comes, now remember what I said.

Dear Readers, today  the Drawing Lady will be teaching us how to draw just like the master artist, Edgar Degas!

Perhaps you are asking why Edgar Degas, Drawing Lady?  What not Vincent Van Gogh, Michael Angelo or Leonardo da Vinci?

Illustrations by Linda Vernon

Dear Readers.  Please do not pepper The Drawing Lady with questions.  The Drawing Lady has only recently recovered from her jump out the sixth story window of her art school.  The Drawing Lady would simply like you to draw the Edgar Degas’s Masterpiece, Two Sisters, below:

The Drawing Lady and Edgar Degas

The Drawing Lady says now you try:

The Drawing Lady draws Degas

Is this right Drawing Lady?  Is this the way you want us to draw the Two Sisters, Drawing Lady? Does this look okay, Drawing Lady?

Dear Readers, The Drawing Lady cannot answer your questions right now because she is busy pulling out her hair.  In the meantime, The Drawing Lady would like you to draw Portrait of Degas and His Friend Valerne.

Linda Vernon Humor, The Drawing Lady

The Drawing Lady says now you try.

The Drawing Lady teaches Degas

You mean like this, Drawing Lady?  Does this look like Degas painted it, Do you think we got the expression right on Valerne, Drawing Lady?

Dear Readers, The Drawing Lady cannot hear your questions right now because she is too busy screaming noooooo!  In the meantime The Drawing Lady is hoping against hope that you can do better drawing the Degas masterpiece, Uncle and Niece.

Art Student's attempt at Uncle and Niece

The Drawing Lady says now you try.

The Drawing Lady draws Degas

How’s this look Drawing Lady?  Do the fingers look right, Drawing Lady?  Do you think we captured Uncle’s expressive face, Drawing Lady?  Drawing Lady? . . . Drawing Lady? . . .   Drawing Lady?

Dear Readers I regret to inform you that the Drawing Lady has gone stalk-raving mad and jumped out the window concluding our drawing lesson for today.

The Drawing lady jumps out the window

Until next time . . . I love you, however, The Drawing Lady doesn’t love you as much as she did at the beginning of this post.

 

Ezekiel’s Weight Problem

Welcome Dear Readers to this Sunday’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today in Sunday School, Gregory learned about the day Ezekiel had an unusual experience.  Let’s listen in as he recounts the story for us.

Ezekiel’s Weight Problem

One day the prophet Ezekiel was relaxing down by the Chebar river in Babylonia where he was hanging out with some of his exiled Jewish  buddies enjoying some Chebar cheese when, suddenly, there was a tremendous rumble.

At first he thought it was just his stomach rumbling from eating too much Chebar cheese, but he soon realized the noise was coming from the sky.

He looked up and was amazed to see a UFBO (unidentified flying biblical object).

He fell face down and heard a voice calling him.

God:  Mortal Man stand up I want to talk to you.

Ezekiel:  Do I have to get up?  I’m really comfortable right now.

God:  I am sending you to the people of Israel.

Ezekiel:  May I ask why?

God:  They have rebelled against me and turned against me and are still rebels just as their ancestors were. So I am sending you to tell them what I, the sovereign lord, am saying to them.

Ezekiel:  Wouldn’t it be easier to just fly over there in your UFBO and tell them Yourself?

God: They are stubborn and do not respect me so I am sending you instead.

Ezekiel:  Okay let me get this straight. You, the sovereign lord, who is flying around the holy land in Your UFBO can’t get the Israelites to listen to you or respect you so you’re sending me instead, a guy who is currently unemployed, slightly overweight and living down by the river?  Do you really think I’m up to the job?

God: Just tell the people of Israel whatever I tell you to tell them. But don’t be afraid of them even though they will despise you and even though it will feel like you are living among scorpions.

Ezekiel:  Well okay,  but scorpions are my least favorite insect.

God:  Scorpions really?  That’s refreshing. Most people say spiders.  Anyway, open your mouth and eat this.

Ezekiel:  What is it?

God:    A scroll upon which cries of grief, wails and moans are written on both sides.

Ezekiel:  No thanks I’m allergic to papyrus.

God:   It’s chocolate covered . . . .

Ezekiel:  Oh in that case, don’t mind if I do!

Ezekiel ate the scroll. (It gave him hives but God pretended not to notice.) Then God’s spirit lifted Ezekiel and carried him to another spot by the Chebar River where Ezekiel resumed eating Chebar cheese and hanging out with different group of his exiled Jewish buddies.

Seven days later God showed up again

God: Okay, here’s the deal.  If I announce that an evil man is going to die, it’s going to be your job to warn him.  If you don’t warn him to change his ways and he dies a sinner, I will hold you responsible for his death but if you do warn him and he doesn’t stop sinning he’ll die a sinner but your life will be spared. Got that?

Ezekiel:  Uh . . .well . . .  uh . . .

God:  Now get up and go into the valley and I will talk to you there.

Ezekiel:  But I just got comfortable.

God:   . . . ahem . . .

Ezekiel :  Okay okay but can I at least bring my Chebar cheese with?

God:  If you must.

Ezekiel:  Say you wouldn’t happen to have anymore of those delicious chocolate-covered scrolls  would you?

God: Yes but you can’t have any.

Ezekiel:  Why?

God:  They’re too fattening.

Ezekiel:  What are you implying?  I’ve been eating too much Chebar Cheese?

God: All I can say is that last statement of yours needs no question mark.

Eziekiel:  Well!  I’ve never been so insulted in my whole life!

God:  That robe of yours is getting awfully tight . . . just sayin’.  So anyway, next I’m going to want you to  go home and shut yourself up in the house and I’ll tie you up with ropes so you won’t be able to go out in public then I’m going to paralyze your tongue.

Eziekiel:   Wait . . . is this some sort of new-fangled diet?

God:  I’ll tell you next week in Part II.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School.  Please check back next week to find out  what God asks of Ezekiel next and whether or not Ezekiel will lose weight and overcome his papyrus allergy.

Until next time . . . I love you

 

Ezekiel's_vision
What? You want me to eat that? Well, I’d much prefer some Chebar cheese.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uh. . . no offense, but that chocolate kinda looks like water stains.
Uh. . . no offense, but that chocolate kinda looks like water stains.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How to be a Professional Gluey Paste Salesman in Ten (or maybe eleven) Easy Steps!

Hello Dear Readers.  As you may remember earlier this week, we were discussing some ads that appeared in an 81-year-old Saturday Evening Post such as this one for Gluey Paste:

I am happy to report, that I have done some extensive research this week into the exciting, fast-paced Gluey Paste industry and needless to say did not come up empty handed.

Have you often dreamed of living the glamorous life of a Gluey Paste Professional Salesman or woman but cried yourself to sleep each night thinking it would be impossible?

Well, Dear Reader, you can now turn those tears of sorrow into tears of joy in ten (or maybe eleven) easy steps!

How to Be A Successful Gluey Paste Salesman in Ten (or maybe eleven) Easy Steps!

Step One:

As a  Gluey Paste Professional Salesman, you will begin any successful sales call by shaking the hand of the potential Gluey Paste customer and greet him by saying, “How do you do, Mr. Smith.”

Step Two

The salutation should be immediately followed by noticing a smudge on Mr. Smith’s elbow and offering to wipe it off — the act of which will quickly bond Mr. Smith to you, the Professional Gluey Paste Salesman.

Step Three:

Uh oh.  It looks like you, as the Professional Gluey Paste Salesman, might have inadvertently bonded yourself to Mr. Smith literally.

Do not be alarmed as this happens more often than not. However, it is of the utmost importance that you, as the Professional Gluey Paste Salesmen, remain calm and under no circumstances let Mr. Smith know what has just transpired.

Step Four

Assuming a nonchalant air, casually turn around so that you and potential customer, Mr. Smith, are facing in the same direction.

This might be a good time to introduce an interesting topic of conversation, such as: “How ’bout them Yankees?”  A question that will keep Mr. Smith so busy thinking, he’ll undoubtedly fail to notice that he  is glued to you, the Professional Gluey Paste Salesman.

Step Five

Next, you must inch Mr. Smith in the direction of the washroom with the eventual outcome of washing the glue off each of you.

However, in order to get Mr. Smith to cooperate fully without being the wiser,  you simply explain that as the Professional Gluey Paste Salesman, you are very interested in the equipment in the washroom to see if it correlates with the amount of glue a potential customer such as Mr. Smith is likely to purchase.

Step Six

Should you, as the Gluey Paste Professional Salesman, suddenly trip and land in the manner pictured above, calmly explain to Mr. Smith that you are practicing your moves for an audition later in the afternoon with the Flying Wallenda’s.

Mr. Smith will not only understand-; he’s very likely to be impressed with your well-rounded personality.

Step Seven

This is the most precarious time in any successful sales call for both you, the Professional Gluey Paste Salesman, and your potential customer, Mr. Smith.

While you are struggling to get things “back on track”, it is recommended that you  belt out a rousing rendition of Camp Town Racers since it has been scientifically proven that the singing of Camp Town Racer’s puts people in the mood to buy glue.

Step Eight

Once you have managed to unstick your hand from Mr. Smith’s elbow, next stick your hand onto Mr. Smith’s knee.

Step Nine

Now, of course, it is just a matter of “walking” Mr. Smith over to a chair so that he can sit down and sign the purchase agreement for upwards of 14 cases of Gluey Paste!

Step Ten

Be careful here because this is often the critical moment in which Mr. Smith is likely to get cold feet causing you to have wasted the entire morning without getting any sales commission.  Therefore you must be prepared to put some serious sales pressure on Mr. Smith.

Step Eleven: 

( Please note this step is only to be used should steps one through ten fail to produce a sale.)

If Mr. Smith still refuses to “come around” after utilizing steps one through ten, pull out the stops by pulling out your Gluey Paste Company issued Smith and Wesson revovlver.

Not only will Mr. Smith’s status be instantly upgraded from potential customer to loyal customer, you’ll be well on your way to experiencing the exciting lifestyle of a world-class Gluey Paste Professional Salesman!

Until next time . . . I love you

Holy Rollers! Sarah’s Bad Hair Day!

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of the Gregory’s Bible Stories.

Today in Sunday School, Gregory learned about how Abraham got a surprise visit from three men with some unbelievable news concerning his wife, Sarah. This week’s story is loosely based on Genesis 18: 1-15 if you would like to loosely follow along.

Gregory's Bible StoriesHoly Rollers!  Sarah’s Bad Hair Day!

One hot biblical afternoon in the Sacred Trees of Mamre, Abraham was sitting in the entrance of his tent trying to get cool. The air-conditioning (hand-cranked) was on the blitz due to the fact that all his hand-cranking slaves were out sick with carpal tunnel syndrome.

Abraham was just sitting there relaxing, unraveling some stray threads on his robe when he looked up and saw three men standing nearby.  When Abraham saw them. he ran out to greet them and bowed to the ground.

Abraham could tell just by looking at them that they were pretty special.  (Some biblical scholars believe Abraham could tell the three men were special because they were all wearing robes that had God Squad printed in big Hebrew letters on the backs while other biblical scholars believe some biblical scholars are full of it.)

The conversation that followed might have gone something like this:

Abraham:  Well hello there fellows!  It is me, Abraham, you’re humble servant.  Take a load off under that tree over there, while  I’ll run to fetch some water to wash your feet.  Not that they need it, or anything.

Three men:  Sounds good.

Abraham:  Oh and I’ll also bring you some food so that you may refresh yourselves.

Three men:  We sure could use some lawn chairs while you’re at it.

Abraham: Tell me about it!  Unfortunately my lawn-chair-weaver slaves are out sick with osteoarthritis.

Three men:  Very well,  just get us some food and wash our feet then.

Abraham:  I’m on it!

Abraham ran back to the tent to tell his wife, Sarah, about the three visitors.  The conversation might have gone something like this:

Abraham:  Sarah, quick!  Get out the best flour and bake some bread, get all these tent pillows picked up, this place is a sty! And, you, slaves with the carpal tunnel syndrome! Look alive!

Sarah:  What’s going on?

Abraham: We’ve got important visitors.  Oh, for heavens sakes, Sarah, why are you still wearing  curlers in your hair when it’s eleven o’clock in the morning?

Sarah:  Can I help it if my curler-unfurling-slaves are all out sick with–

Abraham:  Don’t tell me.  Carpal tunnel syndrome?

Sarah:  No I think it’s tendonitis.

Abraham hurried out into his herd of cattle and picked out a calf that was tender and fat and handed it over to his barbecuing slave.

Abraham:  Here you go barbecuing slave.  Take this calf and cook it for the visitors. Make it medium rare and don’t forget to baste it.

Cooking Slave:  I can make it medium rare, but I won’t be able to baste it as I’m having a little trouble with my–

Abraham:  Don’t tell me. Tendonitis?

Cooking Slave:  No I think it’s Repetitive Strain Injury.

When everything was ready Abraham scurried out to the visitors.  He took them some meat, some cream and some milk and set the food before the men. He served them himself and they ate, and then they asked Abraham:

Three men:  Where’s your wife, Sarah?

Abraham:  She’s in the tent, she’s having a having a bad hair day.

One man who later turned out to be the Lord said:   Nine months from now I will come back and your wife Sarah will have a son.

When Sarah overheard this revelation from inside the tent, she laughed to herself because not only  was she too old to have a baby,  Abraham was 99, and Viagra hadn’t even been invented yet.  

The Lord:   Why does Sarah think she can’t have a baby?  I just heard her laughing to herself inside the tent. Is there anything too hard for the Lord?  As I said, nine months from now I will return  and Sarah will have a son.

Sarah:  I didn’t laugh, Lord.

The Lord:  Oh yes you did, Sarah!  I heard you!

Sarah:  What?  No, that’s the sound I always make when I have to yank out my own curlers.  It’s more of yelp than a laugh.

The Lord:  I know laughing when I hear it, and you were laughing.

Sarah:  No I wasn’t!

The Lord:  Yes you were!

Abraham:  Hey you two! What difference does it make?  It’s not like thousands of years from now people will be reading in the bible about whether or not the Lord overheard Sarah laughing . . . .

The Lord:  Well I suppose you’re right.

Abraham:  That’s the spirit! Now, who wants another foot washing — raise your hand!

The Lord:  I’ll take another one.

Abraham:  Great!  Listen would you mind if Sarah washed your feet instead of me.  All this foot washing is giving me–

The Lord:  Repetitive Strain Injury?.

Abraham:  No I think it’s Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School today.  Please check back next week when Abraham tries to think of something positive to say to say to the Lord about Sodom.

Until next time  . . . I love you

The Lord accuses Sarah of Laughing at him
The Lord, Sarah and Abraham

 

 

Vintage Ads from the Great Depression or “Are You Gonna Eat the Rest of Your Paste?”

1931 Saturday Evening Post

Last night, I was browsing through this 81 year-old Saturday Evening Post (I’m trying to catch up on my reading), when I came across this ad:

This ad states that in 1931,  Gluey Paste was used in over half of schools in the United States.  It doesn’t say what the other half used,  I’m guessing Pastey Glue.

And since it was the Great Depression,  it’s also probably safe to assume  that whether it was Gluey Paste or Pastey Glue — it was certainly the favorite breakfast choice for United States school children everywhere.

Underneath that ad was this happy thought:

Dr. Scholl's SolvexAs the ad so carefully blurts out, if your feet (and toes) are itchy you, could have anything from Athlete’s Foot to Gym Foot — maybe even going so far as to have contracted a case of Golfer’s Itch which is apparently a subsidiary itch of the athlete or the person who frequents a gym.

The ad also mentions ringworm right after mentioning
Golfer’s Itch.  So apparently back in 1931, it was common place to contract ringworm while golfing.

Of course, it was nothing to worry about since Dr. Scholl’s Solvex could be used as a remedy and purchased for a buck.  And if that didn’t work, you could always steal some Gluey Paste or Pastey Glue off some United States School children and give that a go.

And of course, what man could hold his head up in public without:

Apparently in 1931, there were two ways to wear one’s hair.  Brushed or Well Brushed.  The pinnacle to which one could aspire hair-wise in 1931, was to have “well brushed hair all the time,” in addition to a “healthy scalp” (Apparently a healthy scalp wasn’t a given and there were a profusion of unhealthy scalps to be encountered at every turn that one must politely ignore.) 

The ad goes on to imply that in order to get both well brushed hair all the time AND a healthy scalp simultaneously, one must pour liquid hair dressing on one’s head taking great care to smell it first. 

If it was unscented it went on the head-; if  it was scented it went on the head of lettuce.

It goes without saying, of course, that said wearer should thoroughly saturate the hair and scalp in order to get that freshly applied “oily glow” hence the catchy name: Glo-co

So there you have it, Dear Reader!  And what did we learn today?  Let’s review in case you suddenly find yourself whisked away to the Great Depression:

  1. We learned that in 1931, Pastey Glue and Gluey Paste were an important part of every child’s breakfast.
  2. We learned that in 1931, if you didn’t have ringworm, you probably weren’t a very good golfer.
  3. We learned that in 1931, men with oil dripping down the back of their necks had healthy scalps.

Until next time . . . I love you

Slightly Creepy Seventies Bad Poetry

Good news Dear Reaers!  I was milling around my favorite thrift store yesterday when I found this poetry book written by slighty-creepy-seventies poet extraordinaire, Rod McKuen — world renowned for his random-carriage-return, arbitrary-space-bar poetry!       

The Sound of Solitude by Rod McKuen
The Sound of Solitude by Rod McKuen. The inside jacket tells us it’s the most moving, private and essential collection he’s been willing to share  with his millions of readers (at only $9.95 per share)

I looked up the price of  The Sound of Solitude on Abe Books.  It’s worth a dollar.  And I got it for 50-cents! Ha ha!  Suckers! 

Okay, let’s get serious now and open to a poem at random from The Sound of Solitude by Rod McKuen: 

 After-Hours Acrobatics

I light one candle

With another’s flame

And getting up to leak

I look across at you

First of all, Rod, it is very dangerous to sleep with candles lit.  You really need to blow them out!  For heaven sakes, you’re going to burn the house down!  

Secondly, I’m a little concerned that you are leaking. I’m assuming you are referring to a shrapnel injury incurred while in the war, but at least you seem to be aware that leaking while lying down only makes things worse.  Okay, keep going Rod.

Still curled and sleeping

Coming back I start to pass

a mirror

I stop. Stand back and see me

naked in the candlelight

See? What did I tell you?  If you would have blown out those candles like you should have, you wouldn’t have that problem now would you?

Was I ever beautiful,

ever young or wise

deserving of your arms or other’s?

Tiny suggestion Rod,  Don’t you think saying: “deserving of your arms or, failing that, other’s would be kinder to whomever you are referring to? They might read this poem, you now.

Head-on is even harsh by candleglow

love handles bulge on either side.

 Just a thought . . . could it be that it’s your love handles that are leaking?  (I know a good Love-Handle specialist you might want to consult.)

Of what was once an unfilled frame that I hung hopes on,

never excess flesh

Oh I know what you mean! I always put excess flesh in dryer.

I look at you a second time

hoping I can dive beneath the covers

before you catch my silhouette

against the wall.

My pulse thumps loud enough

to blunt the metronome of cicada

calling to cicada,

OMG Rod!  How did you ever get yourself into such a poetic pickle?  See how complicated life gets when you don’t blow out the candles?

Now you’re going to have to call the exterminators to get rid of the cicada infestion.  I hope you’ve learned your lesson!  

(Oh and be sure to get that pulse thump checked out when you go see the Love-Handle specialist.)

Safe. I hit third base

and slide to home.

You only turn and grumble in your sleep

I do not go back to sleep

Well, maybe all you need is a few hours at the batting cages . . .

All life is spent erecting barricades

that none of us can get through

when love finally comes

And none of this would have even been an issue, Rod, if you would have just taken the time to blow out the candles.  I hate to say I told you so, but . . . well I wont’ say it, I wouldn’t want to upset you.  You might start leaking again.

Until next time . . . I love (handle specialist) you

Embarrassing Valentine Please Don’t! I Beg of You!

Bobby

a picture of a nerd

Having missed the last train to Dorkville, Bobby decided to hang out with me at the coffee shop where I worked — until the next train arrived.

Well not really hang out officially.  More like send me imagined hugs and kisses and god only knows what else from upon the stool he spent a lot of time occupying at the lunch counter.

Bobby was 35, and I was 19.  He was married to a 15-year-old (which was apparently legal in some states back then) but worst of all, Bobby had fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love with me after having misinterpreted my statement, may I take your order?  to mean  I love you Bobby!

From that point forward Bobby was in dorky-stalker Love with a capital L.

Bobby’s personality consisted entirely of him saying no way shape or form after everything.

He’d say:  Do you know what time it is?

I’d say:  2:30

He’d say:  No way shape or form! (only he’d draw out the word form like this:  fo-ho-ho-horm!)

Or he’d say,  “Can I get a cup of coffee?”

I’d say:  “Do you take cream?”

He’d say:  “No way shape or fo-ho-ho-horm.”

“I want to get you something for Valentines Day.” Bobby said to me one day.

“No please!  BOBBY!! Listen to me!” I pleaded,  “You’re married!  It’s completely inappropriate! Please I beg of you.  DO NOT GET ME ANYTHING FOR VALENTINES DAY!”

“No way shape or fo-ho-ho-horm.” Bobby sing-songed.  “I’m getting you something anywho!”

Well sure enough, on Valentines day, during the busiest part of the lunch hour when the coffee shop was full,  here comes Bobby waltzing through the restaurant making a beeline straight for me, his eyes shining brightly with dorky-stalker love, his thick coke-bottle glasses slightly askew in his excitement, carrying a two-and-a-half pound box of chocolates that had a huge story-book doll glued to the top of it.

picture of doll on box of chocolates
Bobby’s secret Valentines Day heart-winning weapon!

All eyes and ears were ratcheted our way listening to the conversation that ensued:

Bobby:  I brought you something, Sweetie!  Happy Valentines day!

I said, “No I can’t take this Bobby!  No!   You need to give it to your wife.”

Bobby: “No way shape or fo-ho-ho-horm.”  I already gave her one just like it!”

Embarrassed and defeated,  I took the world’s largest box of chocolates from Bobby’s grubby little hands — but only because I was starting to hear some  “oh how sweet ooh-ing and ahh-ing” coming from  the lunch crowd.   And I stuck it out of sight as quickly as I could before dissolving into a perfect puddle of Valentines Day humiliation.

I don’t remember what finally happened to Bobby.  Maybe somebody shot him.

If so,  we all know what his last words were.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Dear Readers, and may today and all your Valentines Days be Bobby-free!

Until next time  . . . I love you (No . . no!  Not you Bobby!)

Gregory’s Vaction Bible School: Jesus Gets Baptized

Welcome Dear Readers to Gregory’s Vacation Bible School.  Today Gregory is telling the class about the time Jesus got baptized. Let’s listen in, shall we?

Jesus Gets Baptized

Before Jesus came along, John the Baptist was the official spokesperson for the Lord.

John the Baptist was a cousin of Jesus, but he was from the side of the family who were a little different.  John the Baptist’s favorite outfit was a romper made of camel’s hair and a wide leather belt, and he ate nothing but locusts and honey.  (He had the Jesus family sweet tooth though!)

John the Baptist had a little baptizing enterprise on the Jordan River.  One day Jesus came to him to be baptized.

Here’s what scholars believe the conversation might have gone like:

John the Baptist:  Jesus! Cousin!  Nice to see you again.  I was just having my lunch.  Would you care for a locust sandwich?  There’s plenty.

Jesus:  Uh . . . no thank you I’ve already eaten lunch.  I stopped at Saul’s All You Can Eat House of Figs on the way here.  I’m stuffed!

John the Baptist:  Well how about some dessert then?  I’ve got honey . . .

Jesus:  Sure, but first I was wondering if I could get you to baptize me?

John the Baptist:  What?  No!  Me baptize you?  NO!  Get out!  You should be baptizing ME!

Jesus:  No!  You should be baptizing me.

John the Baptist:  No you!

Jesus:  No you!

John the Baptist:  No you!

Jesus:  No you!

John the Baptist:  Okay okay, you win cousin Jesus!  Just let me finish my sandwich first.

"That's not honey is it John?" "Ha ha!  No but I love your sense of humor, cousin! "
“That’s not honey is it John?”
“Ha ha! No but I love your sense of humor, cousin! “

Well, John the Baptist must have done an extra good job at baptizing Jesus because as soon as Jesus came out of the water, the Heavens opened up and the Spirit of God came down like a dove and landed on Jesus and then a voice said, “This is my own dear Son, with whom I am pleased,”  which didn’t normally happen — if ever.

Right after that, The Dove lead Jesus into the desert to be tempted by the Devil.  After 40 days and nights without food, Jesus was so hungry he wished he would have taken John the Baptist up on that honey and locust sandwich.

Just about the time The Dove was starting to look pretty darned delicious, the Devil showed up.

“If you are God’s son, order these stones to turn into bread.”

To which Jesus replied that man cannot live on bread alone but needs every word that God speaks.  (Plus Jesus didn’t really care that much for bread that was made from magically transformed stones.  He always though they had a funny after taste.)

"Turn these stones into bread!""You mean Including the one I'm sitting on?"
“Turn these stones into bread!”
“You mean up to and including the one I’m sitting on?”

But the devil had another trick up his red leotard 

He whisked Jesus to the top of a temple in Jerusalem and told Jesus that if he threw himself off and the angels caught him, the devil would give him the deed to the world — all Jesus had to do was get down on his knees and worship him.

Hello?  Could you be anymore obvious?  Scholars believe Jesus might have thought just before blurting out, “Go away, Satan!

So the devil went to crawl back underneath the rock he had crawled out from under, but, by then, they were all loaves of bread.

And there you have it, Dear Reader, this week’s installment of the Bible According to Gregory.

Jesus composing himself after seeing what John the Baptist was wearing.
Jesus composing himself after seeing John the Baptist in his camel-hair romper.

Until next time . . . I love you

 

The Bible According to Gregory, John the Baptist Linda Vernon Humor

Vintage Foods from Nineteen Eighty-ewww!

Hello Dear Readers.  Hey!  Look what I found from 1982! 

In an effort to include everybody on the face of the earth, this 1982 Time Saver’s Cook Book bills itself as “A People’s Friend Special” with more than 300  money-stretching recipes not to be confused with more than 300 stomach-stretching recipes.

Today we are taking a little trip back in time to the year 1982.  A time when it was considered attractive to wear football shoulder pads underneath all your dresses and a time when every wishbone wish in America was to wake up with cowlicks covering 90 percent of your head.

“Hey, How’d you get your hair to go so good?”
“I wished for cowlicks.”

Let’s take a closer look at the 80’s through the pages of  A People’s Friend Special, Time Saver’s Cook Book and see what people considered edible back in 1982 or as it is sometimes referred to by Food Historians 198eww.

Super Waffles 198eww Style

Now here’s a real 80’s treat!  Waffles covered with things that don’t go with waffles at all. Like tomatoes!  And kidneys! And whatnot!

The recipe says:
Sausage and Tomato and waffles . . .okay
Spicy Bacon and waffles . . . okay
Savory Kidney and waffles . . . uh well, I prefer savory pancreas on my waffles but maybe that’s just me.

Let’s take a closer look at the 198eww deliciousness:

“Dear God! It’s moving!”

Although this looks a bit suspicious, the recipe absolutely insists this is a waffle and not a shingle!  Therefore, what is on it is not what you’re thinking is on it even though it looks exactly like what you’re thinking is on it.

But please don’t think about what’s on it anymore, Dear Readers, because you wouldn’t want to ruin your appetite for:

Whatever This Is

Here’s a chicken recipe that calls for Kellogg’s Bran Flakes. I know you’re  probably thinking the same thing I am right now which is : K E Double L O Double Good! But let’s not be too hasty, Puddin’ (a little cookbook humor, hope you don’t mind) This 198eww recipe is called Crunchy Chicken. But whatever happens when you bite into it, try to remember above all else that it is supposed to be crunchy.

And finally our Pièce de résistance  from 198eww:

Speghetti O Noooooooooo! Pie.  Among other strange items, the recipe calls for one pound of puff pastry thawed.  So at least it’s got thawed pastry going for it!  The recipe also cries out for frankfurters, mushrooms and one beaten (within inches of its life I’ll bet) egg.

Unfortunately there is nothing in the ingredients that would account for the unidentified miscellaneous chunks floating around at large (and small).  Well, we must remember that in the 198eww, absolutely nothing made sense.  Even though we loved pretending it did!

And on that thought, I leave you with:

“Smile.”
“I am smiling.”

Until next time . . . I love you

Picture credits: Detox Zebra.com http://www.zebradetox.com/funny-pictures/extreme-80s-haircuts/
Michael Jackson and E.T.:  The twilight zone of Google