Some Common Sense Tips

Hello Dear Readers.  I thought it might be helpful to post a short list  of common sense tips that my brain, Peanuts, just thought of.

Don’t worry about your spleen.  Nobody ever said on their death-bed, “I wish I would have worried about my spleen.”

 "Let's see, 101 signs your spleen might be malfunctioning . . ."
“Let’s see . . . 101 signs your spleen might be malfunctioning . . . oh I need to read these! “

If someone in your family is set on becoming a human cannonball, keep a mirror and a helmet handy so you can show them how stupid they will look to others.

Slit your car tires every night before you go to bed so that when you wake up in the morning there won’t be any flat tire surprises.

Did you remember to slit the tires?No, it's your turn, I did it last night!
Did you remember to slit the tires?
No, it’s your turn, I did it last night!

Never allow anyone to act out the poem Lizzie Borden Took an Ax on family fun night unless you are absolutely certain the ax is inaccessible and there’s no liquor in the house.

Always test out your  “experimental arsenic cookies” on the hamster first, and be sure he’s actually dead before going to all the trouble of serving them to in-laws.

"Maury? . . . Maury? Can you hear me Maury?"

“Maury? . . . Maury? Can you hear me Maury?”

Always keep a copy of Robert Rules of Order on you at all times to avoid the embarrassment of walking up to take the witness stand in a crowded courtroom when it’s not your turn.

Never engage in a conversation with a chatty robot before you know the location of their off switch.  (The same holds true for husbands.)

"Yes. it. is. a. nice. day. There. have been 17823 days. very. similar. to. a. day. like. today. in. the. past. 100. years. starting. with. a. Thursday. on. April. 17. 1912. and. then. again. on . . . "
“Yes. it. is. a. nice. day. There. have. been. 17823. days. very. similar. to. a. day. like. today. in. the. past. 1400. years. starting. with. a. Thursday. on. April. 17. 1035. and. then. on. . . “

Just make it a policy to never operate on friends. Period. End of story.

Listen Marge, it's not that I don't want to take out your spleen, it's just that you're a friend of mine and I have this policy . . . sorry . . . .
Listen Marge, it’s not that I don’t want to remove your spleen, it’s just that you’re a friend of mine and I have this policy . . . sorry but period end of story.

Until next time . . . I love you

Egg Wars

Two Eggs with boxing gloves fighting

Good news!  I finally found out why the chicken crossed the road but I’ll tell you later.

I went grocery shopping yesterday to pick up a few items. 

I didn’t have a list.  I haven’t made a grocery list for 30 years. I used to religiously make a list when I first started out my career as a semi-professional food gatherer, but then one day, I overheard a mom say she never made a list, just went to the store and winged it using nothing but her ordinary, everyday memory.

Never made a grocery list? 

Could it actually be possible to go to the grocery store and not make a list and still come home with everything one needed? This was a revelation!   I don’t remember the lady’s name who uttered these words that changed my life (a tiny bit), but I do remember her daughter’s name was Astrid.  I volunteered that year to help out in the kindergarten gym class.  And I’ll tell you what; it was well worth the two-hour weekly commitment just to hear the gym teacher call her Asteroid.

Anyway, I never made a list again which explains why I currently have four cartons of eggs in my refrigerator for just the two of us.

You see, one of the downsides of not making a list is buying too much of one thing.  Peanuts, my brain, gets fixated on a certain food stuff and every time we go to the store, Peanuts reminds me that we need it. Currently Peanut is on an egg kick.

Peanuts is quite convincing, I must say.  After much bandying about, a decision is finally made that it’s better to err on the side of too many eggs than not enough.

Awhile back, Peanuts was on a salt fixation.  Suffice it to say, we now have enough salt to last until Armageddon.

But getting back to why the chicken crossed the road, have you noticed what’s going on with eggs lately? 

It’s like the Ritz Carlton competing with The Four Seasons.  Egg brands are making bigger and better claims about how wonderfully their hens are being treated as they go about the business of laying those eggs.

Case in point:

Emma’s Comfort Coup is the less expensive brand.  “Our hens live in more spacious accommodations” is their motto.  They’re not actually letting the hens out of their cages, sure, but they are giving them a king-sized nest with a roomy sitting area, their own bathroom, no doubt, and breathtaking vista of the other coups, plus room service for every meal, I’ll bet.  So these hens are doing alright.  Oh, and they have an official looking seal that says they are American Humane Certified –which actually means a lot to me considering I don’t actually  know what it means.

Ok, but Emma’s little Comfort Coop operation is the slums compared to these guys:

In the world of chickens, these are the lucky ducks!

Cages?  Forget about it.  These hens don’t need no stinkin’ cages because the whole world is their stinkin’ cage. Sure these eggs are going to cost you a little more but that’s because Egg Lands Best Luxury Hotel and Spa offers their chicken clientele the run of the entire poultry estate. And what an estate it is.  Swimming pools! Movie stars! They are running free in the sunshine; a gentle breeze blowing softly through their fine feathered faces!  Here there are no worries. The chickens that live and lay here have obviously done something right in a previous life.

Plus, these hens of the upper echelons are vegetarian fed.  No grinding up of things that aren’t vegetables for them.  No siree!  They’ll get some form of vegetables or they’ll get nothing at all.

All that is required of these birds is that they lay and lay around!

So why did the chicken cross the road?  Why to get to the better accommodations of course!

Until next time . . . I love you

Remodeling Slightly Creepy Seventies Style

Welcome Dear Readers!  Good News!  You are just in time for our Slightly Creepy Seventies Fix, where we look at pictures from the seventies that make us shudder and feel slightly sick to our stomachs because they are so weird and creepy.

It’s the kind of perverse pleasure only the Slightly Creepy Seventies can provide!

Today we’ll be making fun of this treasure from 1970:

Creepy Seventies commentary Linda Vernon Humor
Creepy and Weird Seventies Remodeling Book

“Well, honey, I like the new Seventies kitchen remodel, sure, but where will we put our books?”

Strange seventies remodeling ideas
“I’m so glad father made this bookshelf under the counter only accessible to six-year-olds . . . ah! Here it is, sis, that book I was telling you about, Atlas Shrugged.

Nothing epitomized a Seventies carefree childhood like a random ladder to nowhere.

Inexplicable 70's decor
“Come on Bobby! Climb up, it’s fun!”
“Shut up Robbie! You know people with peg legs can’t climb ladders.”

And no Seventies bathroom remodel worth it’s weight in Mr. T gold chains was complete without a primitive seventies tanning bed.

Seventies woman in distress tanning
“Honey! HELP!
“What’s the matter now?”
“I’m fused to the tanning bed!”
“Again?”

And of course, every Seventies remodel had to feature a pool made out of horrendous “bricks of the seventies!”

Seventies pool bricks
“Please go in swimming with me, Morris.”
“Forget about it, lady, cats hate to swim.”
“But we put in this pool just for you, Morris!”
“Cry me a river, Mrs. Schmuckerson.”

“How very Frank Lloyd Wrong of you, Dear!”

Hey honey! Look what I built while you were away at your plant-hanger macrame symposium! An outdoor brick stairway into the living room! And remember that placenta we saved from our last kid? I made that into a placenta floral arrangement for the coffee table! How do you like it honey? Honey where are you going?
I don't know . . . but I'm never coming back.
I don’t know . . . but I’m walking out of the Slightly Creepy Seventies and I’m never coming back.

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

Ten Writing Prompts for Unusual Stories

Ten  Writing Prompts for Unusual Stories

1)

Terts Spattly, a limo washer for the Dallas Cowboys falls in love with a girl sports reporter who needs a transplant for her heart, a transplant for her liver and a transplant for her Rhododendron plant that’s been crowding out the petunias in her front yard. Choose your favorite historical figure from whom these organs will be harvested — but only after the historical figure is done transplanting the Rhododendron.

2)  

Write a story about why there is no writing prompt in this space.  Include the number 2 in your story at your own peril.

3)

Imagine that an alien named, Fats, lives in the tree outside your bedroom window.  Every morning, after telling you what to wear and what to eat for breakfast,  Fats slaps you in the face.  One day you decide to shoot Fats in the head.  Write a courtroom drama about being sued by the Area 51.

4)

Write a scene wherein a woman is flattened by a steamroller.  Use only  the words, “Sputnik” and “harpsichord.” (If you find this too difficult go ahead and  throw in the phrases, “Oy Vey” and “They call me Mister Tibbs!”)

5)

Your main character, Huh McWart, sneezes and both his glass eyes pop out. Write a story about how he manages to located them after two-weeks of living off nothing but a bottle of Mazola oil and one Cheeto (abnormally large) while he systematically  searches for them by feeling every square inch of his apartment with his toes — starting in the master bedroom.

6)

A 19th-century Chinese peasant named Wang Lung Lung Lung walks 1400 miles to ask Lang Lung-Lung to marry him. She accepts.  Write a documentary  about how Lang Lung-Lung who is now Lang Lung-Lung Lung Lung Lung and her husband Wang Lung Lung Lung  give up smoking.  Do not include the word “lung” in the story.

7)

A woman named, Lucy,  is married to a Cuban bandleader, Ricky, who has a very bad temper.  Lucy spends too much money on a dress making her Cuban bandleader husband, Ricky, furious.  Write a humorous story about how Lucy manages to calm Ricky down just seconds before he beats her to a pulp.

8) 

Imagine you have the super power of smell.  Write a short story about who and what you would smell from the perspective of the smell itself and then never speak of it again.

9)

Write a play about a woman who is too shy to go outside so she sits behind her computer and writes stories about another woman who is too shy to go outside  so she sits behind her computer and writes stories about  another woman who is addicted to hydrogenated palm oil glyceride.

10)

Write a novel about a stapler.  Print it out.  Rip it into a million little pieces. Glue it back together. Write a poem about what just happened.

And there you have it Dear Readers!  Linda’s ten writing prompts for unusual stories.  Happy writing!

Until next time . . . I love you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Bible According to Gregory: Fred and The Bears

Welcome Dear Readers to this Sunday’s edition of the Bible According to Gregory.  Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday school this morning, shall we?

Gregory of the Bible According to Gregory Linda Vernon Humor

Fred and The Bears

As you may remember from last week’s bible lesson, Gregory was learning about Elisha (pronounced Fred).

Fred  had just inherited the All in One Miracle Cloak from his idol, Elijah, who thew it to him from  the whirlwind God had sent for Elijah to take him up to heaven.

Biblical Fig Juice Stains

The cloak did wonders for Fred’s self-esteem.  It gave him the power to perform miracles,  it brought out the hazel in his eyes, and it even dimmed the shine of his very bald head!

img635

Horrible Artist’s rendering of what Fred might have looked like.

But the men of Jericho thought Fred’s story about Elijah being whisked off up to heaven in a whirlwind was a bit sketchy.

Jericho Man:  Hi Fred. nice cloak.   Say, have you seen Elijah anywhere?

Fred:  Uh, Elijah . . . uh . . . well,  he’s on a permanent vacation.

Jericho Man:  Oh how nice!  Where?

Fred:  Heaven.

Jericho Man:  You mean he died?

Fred:  Not exactly.  The Lord picked him up in a Whirlwind and took him to heaven while he was still alive.

Jericho Man:  I’m sorry, but I have trouble believing that because the Lord doesn’t travel in a whirlwind, he travels in a cloud.

Fred:  Are you implying I don’t know the difference between a cloud and a whirlwind?

Jericho Man:  Okay I’m bored.   Hey listen, Fred, since you’re the new miracle guy in town, would you mind doing something about the source of our drinking water.  It tastes like Shiite.

Fred:  Not a problem, I can fix that.  Bring me a new jar and put salt in it.

Jericho man:  But won’t that just mask the flavor?

Fred raised his I’m-the-new-miracle-guy-in-town-aren’t- I? eyebrow and the man ran off to fetch Fred a jar of salt.

Fred threw the salt into the Shiite water and everybody watched while he took a sip and pronounced that the water tasted as good as  Alhambra.  And everybody rejoiced by laughing at the way Fred pronounced Abraham.

Fred takes being called “baldy” badly.

After that Fred left Jericho to travel to Bethel as he had some early blankmas shopping he wanted to do. (This was way before Jesus was born.)

On the way there, he encountered a group of boys who started making fun of Fred’s bald head.

“Get out of here baldy!” they all shouted.

Which was the very worst thing you could call a person in biblical days not counting  Unleavened- Pizza- Crust – Face.

So Fred cursed the boys in the name of the Lord and two she-bears came out of the woods and tore the 42 boys to pieces which must have taken a while — long enough for Fred to get out his slab and chisel and chisel 42 hash marks.

Prologue:

After that, Fred traveled on to Mount Carmel, where he  bought everybody on his list a  box of carmels.

He came back by way of Samaria and gifted an extra box he accidentally bought  to a Samaritan who lived there and wished him Merry Blankmas!

And that’s why to this day, if someone buys an extra box of carmels and gives it to someone who lives in Sameria,  they are called a Good Samaritan.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School.  Be sure to check back  next week to see what new and exciting thing Gregory learns in Sunday School.

Disaster-Being-eaten-Bear-eating-Viking1
“So you’re wearing that funny hat because 42 boys called you “Baldy”?
“Yeah.”
“You want I should maul them?”
“Yeah.”

Until next time . . . I love you

Talking Edgar Allan Poe In Off The Ledge

We all love Edgar Allan Poe, it’s just that sometimes he tends to get a bit carried away!  Oh great, here he comes. Now whatever you do, please, please don’t get him started on Annabel Lee . . . too late!  Now you’ve gone and done it!

“What?  Did somebody say Annabel Lee?  It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea . . . “

Just for future reference, Edgar, saying many and many is the same thing as saying many – I know you’re into writing so I thought I’d pass that along.

“That a maiden there lived whom you may know, by the name of Annabel Lee”

No, I don’t know her, but I have heard of her.

“And this maiden she lived with no other thought, than to love and be loved by me”

Uh . . . OOOKAAY . . .

“I was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the sea”

Really?  Google says you were 27 and she was 14, but nevermind, keep going.

“But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee”

Shouldn’t it be: “My Annabel Lee and I”?

“And this was the reason that long ago in this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling my beautiful Annabel Lee”

So you’re telling me the wind was jealous of you and Annabel Lee?  Oh something’s blowing alright, Edgar, but I’d have to say it probably involves smoke, a skirt and the direction of up — if you know what I mean.

“So that her high-born kinsmen came and bore her away from me”

Uh, I have a feeling those high-born kinsmen were her parents, and  if they were smart, they  didn’t let her play with you anymore.

“To shut her up in a sepulchre, in the kingdom by the sea”

Hold on a sec while I google sepulcher  . . . Let’s see . . . it say s a small room or monument where a dead person is laid . . . WHAT?  Am I missing something here?

“That the wind came out of the cloud by night, chilling and killing my Annabel Lee”

Hold on!  Whoa!   OK, I don’t like the direction this is going in.  I’m calling your psychiatrist.

“For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams”

It’s too late to be all cheery now, just  get in the car, Edgar.

“Oh, the beautiful, Annabel Lee; and the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes of the beautiful Annabel Lee and so all the night tide, I lay down by the tide  . . .”

Yeah sure, Edgar.  You just keeeep telling yourself that.   Watch your head . . . that’s right. What’s that Edgar?  Where are we going?  We’re just going for a drive, Edgar . . . it’ll be fun!

“Oh my darling — my darling — my life and my bride, in the sepulchre there by the sea, in her tomb by the sounding sea . . .”

Listen, Edgar, why don’t I see if I can find a happy song on the radio . . . until we get there . . . not that we’re going to the Institute . . . no-no, we’re just going wherever the jealous wind blows us. . . it’ll be fun!

The Tragically Beautiful Annabel Lee!

 

And there you have it, Dear Readers,  yet another futile attempt by this blog to cheer up literature’s most gloomy Gus, Edgar Allan Poe.

Until next time . . . I love you

Baby Boomer Junk Mail

Hello Dear Readers!  Gosh it’s a beautiful day.  Okay let’s talk about death now.

Here’s something that came in the mail today from the Trident Society:

Trident Society Linda Vernon Humor
The Trident Society wants dibs on your “vessel”

Apparently the Trident Society isn’t really a Society at all.  It’s just a nice way of saying we’re a company that turns a profit cremating dead people.  I don’t think there’s regular meetings or anything.  It’s simply that they are asking for dibs on cremating you after you die, but they want you to pay them for it right now.

Apparently there are lots and lots and lots of wonderful  reasons why you need to  pre-purchase your funeral pyre.  Let’s take a closer look at what they are, shall we?

Trident Society Commentary Linda Vernon Humor

The first reason for being cremated is convenience.

If you pay for your cremation now, perhaps when you die, one of your  family members (whoever gets the shortest straw) can simply go to a Trident Society drive-thru window, pick up your ashes and set you on the book shelf until the next family reunion — where you will be lovingly lugged along and incorporated into the prayer before the potluck lunch is served.  Upside:  It’s convenient as all get out.  Downside:  Alive or dead, you’ll have to attend the next family reunion.

Cremation is much less expensive and has less impact on the environment!

Now how can anybody say no to cheap and easy?  It’s cheap AND it’s better for the environment.  Downside:  You had to pay for it yourself. Upside:  Hey!! Lookee you!  You’re recyclable!

It allows families to provide a dignified resting place to memorialize their loved one. 

What is the Trident Society trying to imply?  Are they trying to  imply that your current plan — to give great, great grandaddy, Trevor, the ol’ heave ho on your next Carnival Cruise — isn’t a dignified enough resting place?  Upside:  Oh yeah!  Downside:  Just watch you!

And finally, Dear Readers, if the above reasons aren’t enough to convince you that you need to pre-purchase your cremation, Trident Society is pulling out all the stops by allowing you to enter for a chance to WIN a FREE CREMATION!

Win a free cremation! Linda Vernon Humor

Sufferin’ Succotash!  Look how happy everybody is in the picture!  Well, there’s nothing like winning a FREE CREMATION to make everyone want to play a rousing game of Ring Around the Rosy!

Until next time . . . I love you