I Can’t Explain It . . . There’s Just Something About Uranus!

It’s nice to be mature or so I’m told. Now that I am nearly old enough to collect Social Security (so I can finally be more secure socially),  and now that I am a Grandmother, and now that  AARP is positively drooling every time I walk by, well I’m pretty much hot stuff in the fast-paced world of Aging Boomerism.

That is why, Dear Readers,  I am  delighted to be nominated for an award so infantile, so juvenile, so puerile, so River Nile, that I couldn’t be more pleased if God, himself, had instructed Moses to part the Red Sea and let me hunt for sea shells for a full five minutes!

"Hey lookee this one! It's not even broken at all!"

I am speaking of course of the most coveted and the most revered award to ever grace  the Blogosphere:

The Award to END All Awards

For this nomination, I thankfully thank Lizzie Cracked (but not broken) over at Running Naked with Scissors who writes a wise, funny and a humongously creative blog about life with Bi-Polar, six kids and one grandson among a host of other eclectic always entertaining topics. 

And now let us proceed to the Nomination Hoops through which one must jump when nominated  for the Glitter E. Yaynus Award!

Name five things that would make people want to kill me:

Lagging at every greenlight for miles trying to find my lip gloss.

 Eating the last  Girl Scout Cookie (OK, make that eating all of the Girl Scout Cookies).

 Meeting up with out-of-town guests, and forgetting my cell phone.

 Talking during the most important part of everything.

 Reading the time wrong on the airplane tickets.

Next: Name five things I would take to Uranus:

(OK, this isn’t the real version. In the real version, you are supposed to name five things you would stick up your ass, if forced. I’m  doing the watered-down, old-lady, granny version because I wouldn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize my membership eligibility for AARP.) So here are the five things I would take to Uranus:

A copy of Pride and Prejudice because a little culture never hurt Uranus.

A herd of elephants because it’s rumored that Uranus is quite spacious.

Martha Stewart in case Uranus needs redecorating.

A pot of gold to place at the end of Uranus in case there’s no rainbows.

A fireworks factory because nothing spices up Uranus like firecrackers and sparklers!

Next: Run across a Freeway Blindfolded.  

Only if the freeway is blindfolded too, let’s make it fair!

Next: Pick a Prom Court:

Ok, what happened here? Things were progressing so logically until the last two questions.  I think the person who thought this up might have a touch of the ADD!  Nevertheless.  I will pick a prom court by passing the nomination on to the following bloggers who I think can really do this Prestigious Award justice and the nominees are:

Lauren’s Crazy Adventure (She’s got a new blog with a fresh perspective!)

Eldon  (A comedy alchemist who turns mascara into black streaks!)

Clipsnark (She’s a funny clip art clipper!)

A Gripping Life (She’s breaking out of her rut in a good way!)

Morristownmemos (She reads Dr. Suess, you’ll like her!)

And please Prom Court/Glitter E Yaynes Nominees,  please do not let the prestige of this award swell your ego  –it might go to Uranus!


Until next time . . . I love you

Secrets to Writing a Sexy Humor Blog

As Woody Allen said, “80 percent of success is showing up.”

Well, this is certainly true when it comes to blogging.  I started this humor blog a year ago today.  And it’s a thrill to be sitting here writing this morning with the knowledge that I’ve stuck with it for a whole year come rain or shine.

Here are some things I’ve learned about writing humor over the course of the last year.

Steady Eddy Kills the Humor Muse

Humor likes extremes. I’ve noticed over the course of the year, that I tend to write best when I’m either in a horribly bad mood or in an unusually good mood.  And if I have a headache or a backache?  I can really deliver!

So my advice is if everything is running along a little too smoothly — wreck your car, get in a barroom brawl and/or go to jail.  This will  give you all kinds of fresh ideas for your blog — plus give you something to do while you waiting for bail.

Good Writing Follows Good Concept

I’ve found that rarely does the writing lead me to a good concept but that the concept leads me to the good writing.  So my advice is to throw away all the words you want –there’s plenty more where they came from — but never throw away a good concept.

(Of course, if you insist on throwing away that good concept — feel free to throw it out in MY garbage can.)

Shoot for Being Different, But Not so Different You Need to be Shot 

I can get pretty carried away at times.  I love writing nonsensical, surreal, reckless humor.  I get in a mood and I can’t stop myself.   When my inner wackadoodle takes over my keyboard, I find that it’s best to let things sit awhile before publishing.  Good rule of thumb is:

Try not to publish anything that would be embarrassing enough to make you want to apply to the witness protection program.

 In The Long and Short of Writing– Little Voices Are Big. 

If a little voice inside is telling you that what you just wrote stinks on ice, it most assuredly does, I’ve found.

On the other hand, sometimes something you write that you personally don’t care for turns out to be quite popular.  It’s like when you wear an outfit that you never wear because you hate it, but you get all kinds of compliments on it whenever you do wear it.  So sometimes you can’t ALWAYS trust the little voice.

And Finally Read Other Writers Who Are Stimulating 

Here is a list of eclectic bloggers that  I whole-heartedly support and whose minds I enjoy peeking into:

Running Naked with Scissors


Nailing Jello To A Tree


Orange Spice Drop


Spectacular Disaster


Ashley Jillian


Teal and Tulle


Pretty Feet, Pop Toe


Break It Down Pete


David Wallace Fleming’s Blog






robotic rhetoric


Diedra Alexander’s Blog


I’m Going to Twirl


Ryman Tolentino


Oh and One More Thing . . .

It is absolutely OK to title a post Secrets to Writing a Sexy Humor Blog even if said post doesn’t really have any secrets in it and isn’t the least bit sexy.  Why?  Because it’s my birthday, which makes me the Birthday Girl which means I can do whatever I want!

At least for today, anyway.

Until next time . . . I love you

New Post Suckcess at Last!

I’ve been trying to think of a topic to post about but something happened to my brain, Peanuts.  All my thoughts seemed to have settled to the bottom of my brain leaving me officially devoid of thought.

And take it from me, there’s nothing more boring than having one’s brain as empty as a keg of lager at a 5 a.m. frat party.

Not that Peanuts is an expert on frat parties.  Peanuts only knows what Peanuts has managed to observe through the stained-glass window of the  church rectory, but you get my point, I’m feeling dull, uninspired and  totally bored with myself.

Which is so weird because I normally lead such a madcap, whirling dervish existence!

Usually, I never know WHAT I’m going to do next!

For instance, sometimes I’ll go to the  grocery store to buy a tub of tapioca pudding and then, for no apparent reason, I’ll suddenly go flat-out wackadoodle, and say “Screw that!”

Next thing you know, I’m pulling into a Reserved for Frozen Yogurt Customer’s Only parking space!


Sometimes, when I pick up that scoop for the chocolate sprinkles, I’ll suddenly decide “Sprinkles be hanged!”

And then, I’ll haphazardly as all get out set down that chocolate sprinkles scoop  and I’ll reach, instead, for the scoop in the container labeled Mochi!  That’s right.  You read that correctly: MOCHI!

It’s from Japan.  It means “sticky rice cake” in Japanese.  So putting mochi on my yogurt in the United States of America is — by my calculations — equivalent to the excitement of  eating a  big huge bowl of sticky rice at a sidewalk cafe in downtown Tokyo while wearing nothing but a  sleeveless cotton top and a pair of lightweight capris in the midst of a  chilly breeze that kicks up during the pregnant pause just seconds before Godzilla snatches me up and eats me on his way to the local university to eat an entire frat party.

"Mmm . . . . frat party!"

So you see that’s the kind of madcap whirling dervishness that normally makes my blog bubble with excitement.

So until Peanuts gets back online, I’m going to have to resign myself to the fact that the act of posting may produce somewhat mixed results.  Oh I’ll succeed alright, but I may have to add a “k” in there somewhere.

Until next time . . . I love you

Slightly Obscure WordPress Blog Award Categories I Would Like to See Circulating the Blogosphere!

The weekend is almost upon us which means it’s Friday!  I would like to celebrate the arrival of our weekend by taking the lazy route and  re-running this post about a few blog award categories I would love to see circulating here on our beloved WordPress Blogosphere.  And so may I present:

Slightly Obscure WordPress Blog Award Categories I Would Like to See Circulating the Blogosphere!

Best Typed by One Finger Blog

Best Typed While Pretending to Look Busy at Work Blog

Best Typed by Head Falling on Keyboard After Too Many Whiskey Sours Blog

Best Typed by Elbows While Posing for Photo with Chin in Hands Blog

Best Typed by Falling Teardrops Blog

Best Typed by Oakridge Boy’s Beard Blog

Best Typed by Debris from Collapsed Ceiling Blog

Best Typed by Hoof of Steer Landing on Keyboard During Tornado Blog

Best Typed by Glacier Scraping Over Keyboard During Last Ice Age Blog

Best Typed by Cat Burglar While Shoving Keyboard into Bag Blog

Best Typed by Jaw Dropping onto Keyboard During Jaw-dropping Revelation Blog

Best Typed by Cat Walking Across Keyboard to Bat at Feather and Bell Tied to End of  String Attached to End of Long Stick Blog

Best Typed by Spewing  Coffee Over Keyboard While Reading The Day the Dopes Came Over by Steve Martin Blog

Best Typed by 100-Year-Old Man Grabbing onto Keyboard to Help Break Fall Blog

Best Typed While Wearing Keyboard as Hat for Computer Man Halloween Costume Blog

Best Typed by Making Panicky Typing Motions on Keyboard After Accidentally Setting Hair on Fire Blog

And there you have it, Dear Readers!  Have a wonderful weekend!

Until next time . . . I love you!

Death Be Not Nice

"You wouldn't happen to know the time, would you?"

In ten years I’ll be pushing 70, and when I say pushing 70 — I mean all 70 has to do is step a little to the side and I’m over the edge.

Sometimes it feels like Father Time is stalking me.

I mean, when you think about how old you will be  ten years from this very day, well, it’s downright shocking, depressing and/or scary!  It makes you feel like you want to get a move on. 

 And I’m all for things that make me want to get a move on because I secretly suspect my default button is set on “lazy” or at the very least “putter”.

Frankly, you’d be shocked to know how much time I’ve spent over the course of my life just milling around.

Of course, I’ve always felt I was accomplishing something, but when I actually look back on it;- what?

Luckily, I’ve got my brain, Peanuts, to blame everything on which is a great comfort to me.  I’m not the lazy one, Peanuts is by gum!

Still I’m not really working very hard on my biggest goal which is to write a book.

You see, sometimes my brain, Peanuts, bubbles over like a pot with too much macaroni left on high.  Peanuts is trying its darndest to cook something up, but the results are often questionable and somewhat messy.

Case in point, I once wrote ten chapters into a murder mystery entitled Book Clubbed to Death, but when I took it to a writer’s group and read an excerpt from it, the writing instructor asked for a display of hands on how many people thought it sucked — and almost everyone raised their hands.

I made a promise to myself right  and there, that if I ever wrote another murder mystery that particular instructor was going to be the murder victim.

So on that happy note, dear reader, I am now going to go takes some vitamins, check on my maccaroni, and then get busy writing that murder mystery.  I’ve already got the title:

Who  Stabbed the Writing Instructor? (and then poisoned him and electrocuted him) 


 Linda Vernon

Until next time . . . I love you

My Brain Peanuts Turns Pro

Hello my fine feathery friends!  It’s been a very busy day here at the blog.  I’ve hardly had time to turn on my computer let alone type a complete word.  But that’s the way it goes in the terrifically, fast-paced life of a  Full-time Professional Bloggist® such as myself.

Finger of a Full-time Professional Bloggist® such as myself as represented by a finger model.

Things are moving so quickly here at the blog that the Full Time Professional Blog Hubbub® is deafening, blinding and crippling!

Which makes it hard to hear, see and type.   But that will never stop me, dear reader.

For rest assured I shall never let my courage fail me. I shall get this blog into your eyes before the morrow or I shall die trying — for I am a Full-time Professional Bloggist®.

Just take a look at my to-do list and tell me the life of a Full-time Professional Bloggist® such as myself isn’t important and somewhat adorable. 

5:00 am  to 6:00 am:  Lie in bed and decide whether or not the new words and phrases my brain, Peanuts, dreamed last night are worth getting out of bed to write down.

6:01 am to 7:45 a.m:  Wander around house in pajamas looking for a pencil and paper.

7:45 am to 7:46 am:   Write down  “plep” and “I love you Hearth Burl.” and silently thank Peanuts.

7:46 am. to 9:30 am:  Resume lying in bed strategizing how to incorporate “plep” and “I love you Hearth Burl” into  blog.

9:30am to 11:30 am:  Prepare to write blog by pensively staring out window pensively.

11:30 am to 4:45 pm:   Lunch

4:46 pm – 8:20 pm:  Supper

8:20 pm to 8:30 pm:  Finally experience a creative  breakthrough by thinking up an ingenious method for incorporating “plep” and “I love you Hearth Burl” into the following sentence:

“I love you Hearth Burl,” said Plep.

8:30 pm to 8:31 pm:  Post on blog.

 8:31 pm to 9:30 am:  Put Peanuts to work thinking up new words for tomorrow’s blog post by going back to bed.

And there you have it, dear reader.  The important and somewhat adorable, fast-paced  life of a Full-time Professional Bloggist® such as myself.

Until next time . . . I love you

Slaving Over a Hot Keypad

I Got Nothin’

Yesterday was a frustrating day. I sat down to write a post for this blog but my brain, Peanuts, just wasn’t cooperating.

I kept fiddling around with the same group of lousy little words for hours — arranging and rearranging — trying to get them to come together in some sort of pleasing way — but they absolutely refused to cooperate.

Hither and Yon

I just couldn’t seem to get my words and my ideas synchronized. It was all very discombobulating.  I was running out of steam and no matter how hard I tried I JUST COULD NOT GET THINGS TO COMBOBULATE.

At 1:30 in the afternoon, I finally threw the bums out and started over.

When Life Hands You Lemons, Start Over

My second attempt was even worse! It wasn’t the fault of the words or the ideas, as such. Individually, they were all fine, upstanding words and ideas. It was the order in which I laid them out on the page that really stunk on ice.

But I refused to admit defeat. I was determined to cobble together a decent essay; even if it meant using every single tool my writer’s toolbox including the sledgehammer.

If at First You Don’t Succeed, Step Up Your Punctuation

It soon became obvious the second essay was turning out even more disappointing than the first; but still I forged ahead determined to make it work utilizing some little known writer’s tricks I had up my sleeve.   Such as inserting peppy punctuation like three exclamation marks in a row at the end of every sentence — and giving a humorous word like “DYN-O-MITE” a paragraph of its very own.

Exasperatingly Exhausted

I typed and typed and typed until my fingers were blue in the face. I was at the end of my rope and so desperate, I even tried sticking in some humorous kitty images in an attempt to cover up my mediocrity:

Funny, but not hilarious
 Slightly funny, but certainly not funny enough to offset lousy writing 

Ok, this one’s just making things worse

Oh Forget It!

At Four Frigin’ Thirty in the afternoon, I finally admitted defeat.

My husband, 37, got home from work, and found me slumped on the couch frazzled and flummoxed. So he suggested we eat out, bless his ever-lovin’ 37 heart!!!

By the time I finished my Panda Express Kung Pao Chicken and Chow Mein, I was practically my old self — until I opened my fortune cookie which read:

What are you trying to do Panda Express?  Kill me?

Until next time . . .  I love you

Word Swirling


Peanuts, my brain, and I have finally come to an agreement on two things.  We are going to  1) write on this blog each day and 2) go for a walk each day.

Unfortunately, Peanuts is a little confused about the difference between writing and walking.

While walking, Peanuts is a veritable word magician.  Arranging words in the cleverest of ways, coming up with funny, original concepts left and right; and then whipping them all together with hearty doses of unusual nouns, sparkling verbs, and to-die-for adjectives.

Peanuts often ends up with a swirl of words the world has never seen the likes of which!  (That last sentence  being a perfect example!)

On any given day, you might see Peanuts and I  walking down the street mumbling, “Oh that’s good, I gotta remember that!” And then repeating some catchy phrase over and over inwardly (trying not to move our lips lest we be mistaken for crazy) and doing a fine job of  it too, until Peanut’s gets distracted by  running  into a telephone pole and lets go of the idea completely.

At this point, all  I can do is watch  helplessly as the perfect word combo floats away to  Cosmic Essay Limbo, where all the good little essays live, huddled together, in a cruel parallel universe where prepositions are panned, adjectives are illegal and verbs just rub everybody the wrong way.

Sigh. . . If  Peanuts would simply pay attention to where Peanuts is walking instead of trying to write essays on the fly, there would certainly be a lot fewer distractions going on in the way of stumbling, fumbling and mumbling.

Of course as soon as we get back, and I am seated at the computer keyboard, Peanuts has already punched out for the day, and I am left nothing but Peanut’s involuntary functions with which to slap together some sort of wordage for this blog.

Don’t get me wrong, slapping together wordage is one of my favorite things, but it’s even more fun when Peanuts is actually involved in the process and not wandering around up there in the attic folds sifting through old memories.

Sometimes I think Peanuts just doesn’t give a flying fig about me.

I’m warning you, Peanuts, if you ever become vegetative, I’m unplugging on you so fast it will make your wordage swirl!

Wait . . . what’s that?  Oh, Peanuts has just checked in with me.  Peanuts says instead of saying, “Peanuts doesn’t give a flying fig about me”, I should say, “Peanuts doesn’t give an airborne artichoke about me.”

That Peanuts! It’s that kind of writing that makes me forgive Peanuts every time, no matter how mad I get.

Until next time . . . I love you

April 15th Deadline of the Worst Kind

It’s nearly April 15th, so go ahead and round-up all those remaining brain cells that have yet to be killed off and put them away in a safe place because you’re going to need only the dead ones for this next task.

That’s because April 15th is the deadline for the Bulwer Lytton Fiction Contest, a competition sponsored by San Jose State, where contestants vie for the dishonor of writing the worst sentence to an imaginary novel.

Now since it was still a couple of days before the first day of the rest of my life, I decided to enter it and guess what? Turns out I’m a horrible writer! So horrible, in fact, that they picked my sentence as the very crummiest of all!

My triumphant mess went as follows:

Delores breezed along the surface of her life like a flat stone forever skipping along smooth water, rippling reality sporadically, but oblivious to it consistently, until she finally lost momentum, sank and due to and overdose of fluoride as a child which caused her to suffer from chronic apathy, doomed herself to lie forever on the floor of her life as useless and an appendix and as lonely as a 500-lb. barbel in a steroid free fitness center.

Now because I aspired to be a tad bit better than bad, I sat down to my keyboard and made the following attempts to write at least one sentence that could possibly be considered “pretty good.”

Amanda’s obsession for making homemade bread for the entire neighborhood was beginning to take over her life, and as she sat at the kitchen table with her flour-covered face in her flour-covered hands, the warm sun shone steadily through the kitchen window and Amanda began to slowly rise up out of her chair — suddenly realizing that she needed to be kneaded.


Charlie dreamed that he was dreaming he was awake and had fallen asleep.

OK, truthfully, at this point, I was starting to get a bit nervous about being able to come up with a pretty good sentence. It seemed the harder I tried to write pretty good, the more elusive “pretty good” became. Frankly, serious doubts were beginning to pierce the ears of my soul. But still I forged onward:

Rayton, a fine Guppitoid from Repox VII couldn’t put his slimy little fingerling on why Jessica, an ichthyolgist’s dream, wouldn’t have him for her husband when he had made it abundantly clear that the only domestic duties she would have to perform would be to boost his ego and to bear him several million live young a year, which he was even willing to help her eat.


As soon as Mary got to her walk-up, she was held up, tied up, and told to shut up, but luckily the culprits were picked up, locked up and Mary was helped up and then she threw up.

Ah! Finally I was warmed up. But one thing was certain. If I was ever going to write that pretty good sentence, I needed to relax.

I began taking deep breaths, one after another until the last thing I remember was falling off my chair and hitting the floor like –what else — a 500-lb. barbel in a steroid-free fitness center.

Which brings me to the moral of this story:

She who enters the Bulwer Lytton can take a lick in’ and keep on tickin.

Hey now! That’s a pretty good sentence if I do say so myself. But my quest for a pretty good sentence does not end here. I’m going to keep at it until I come up with the Perfect Pretty Good Sentence. It may take awhile but, after all, I do have until the last day of the rest of my life, or April 15th — which ever comes first.

Until Next Time . . . I love you

Picture-less-ly Yours

Hello’s to all who have come. Thank you for coming. I apologize in advance for the fact that this will be a picture-less blog. A picture-less blog is a sad blog. So I will try to paint pictures for you using my vast command of the English language if you can call three verbs and a non-dangling participle a “vast command.”

This blog is picture-less because I am writing it on my beloved Ipad. I love my Ipad but I don’t know how to get pictures into a blog using it. It’s not that I’m lazy and don’t want to read instructions . . . wait a minute . . . yes it is.

OK, here’s where I would insert a picture of a lady with her eyeballs rolled up and her tongue sticking out to one side wearing a little cap tipped askew on the opposite side as her tongue is sticking out and with her index finger on her chin. The caption would read:

“Uh oh did somebody say instructions?”

You can just imagine how funny that would be. And if you can’t I suggest you take you’re imagination to the nearest Imagination Store and get it tuned up!

Ok, here’s where I would really make the last paragraph a zinger by inserting a picture of a lady with her eyeballs rolled up and her tongue sticking out to one side while wearing a little cap tipped askew on the opposite side as her tongue is sticking out and walking into a store of some kind. The caption would read:

“Uh oh . . . did somebody say imagination tune-ups?”

Well, you can just imagine how hilarious this would have been had I been able to figure out how to work my Ipad. It would have been off the charts funny. (see chart below)

Ok, this is where I would have inserted a picture of a chart where a line went squiggly for awhile and then went straight up past the chart itself and into the margin above it.

I can’t stop laughing just thinking about it!

Until next time . . . I love you