Linda’s Bedtime Stories for Grownup Children #138

 

Ted Flerk’s Autobiography

“As you know, children, we always observe National Rubber Spatula Day here at Connie’s Kindergarten Cuisine Academy and–” Miss Connie’s announcement was interrupted by a collective moan from the classroom.

And,” Miss Connie continued unfazed, “I therefore will be reading to you from Scraping By — the autobiography of Ted Flerk who you will remember is credited with inventing the rubber spatula.

Miss Connie calmly opened to page one and began reading in a clear, strong voice as several students rushed for the door that Miss Connie had had the presence of mind to bolt.

“The story of how it came to pass that fateful day in Mother’s kitchenette, when I, Ted Flerk, invented mankind’s most important baking utensil, the rubber spatula, is, I suppose, a tedious tale, or, more precisely, a thorough recounting, if you will, of—“

Suddenly a loud boom erupted from the back of the classroom. Miss Connie looked over the top of her reading glasses. Charles was out of his seat.

“If you’re thinking you’re going to bust down that door, Charles, you’ve got another thing coming.” Miss Connie said mildly. ” Now, put down that battering ram and return to your seat immediately!”  Miss Connie continued reading.

” . . . the events leading up to the day I thought of inventing the Rubber Spatula, including what happened while I was physically inventing the rubber spatula, itself,  in addition to a detailed accounting of my life up to that point– “

Suddenly there was a mighty crash and a tinkling of glass. Miss Connie calmly put her finger on her place in the book and looked up. Several girls were helping each other climb through the jagged glass of the broken classroom window. A line of students was quickly forming behind them. Miss Connie chose to ignore the interruption and continued reading.

” . . . and exactly how I, Ted Flerk, was able to scrape every type of bowl known to man leaving no detail undocumented. . . “

At 3:00 sharp, Miss Connie bookmarked her place in the book, turned out the lights of her now empty classroom and went home.

 

Inventor of the rubber spatula
Ted Flerk, inventor of the rubber spatula and the Author of Scraping By

 

A Poem to Make You Think

Begin at the beginning and end at the end

But then again supposin’ that road has a bend?

 

Then begin at the right and work your way left

Or come up the middle (if the road’s got a cleft)

 

Or begin at the end and work your way backwards

Or schlep up the shoulder all sloppy and slackwards

 

Or begin at the right and go in a square

Taking plenty of breaks to sit in the chairimg144

 

 

You took from that idiot right over there →

 

But whatever you do, avoid like the plague

A man with an eye patch who answers to Craig

 

And a lady named Bertha who’ll be eating a lime

(Expressly for reasons pertaining to rhyme)

 

Now take a deep breath and start on your journey

And if you get tired? Remember the gurney . . . 

 

That grandmother willed you (the one from Poughkeepsie)

That you pawned for some money to hire a gypsy

 

Who foretold of everything here you just read 

(Including the part where your Grandmother’s dead)grandma cartoon

 

 

 

 

 

 

I, Platypus

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today Gregory learned about when God had Adam name all the animals.

Let’s listen in as Gregory tells us how it all happened.

gregoryI, Platypus

It was the very first Tuesday right after God had created Adam but just before He created Eve. God took some soil from the ground and formed all the animals and all the birds. Then He showed them to Adam.

Adam:  What’s all this?

God:  I just created all these animals and all these birds. Now I’d like you to think of names for each of them.

Adam:  But there’s so many!

God:  Yup, 1,589,361 to be exact.

Adam:  Okay let me get this straight.  You want me to cultivate the Garden of Eden and guard it plus think up 1,589,361 different animal names for all these animals you created? Not only am I only human, God, don’t forget I am the only human!

God:  LOL

Adam:  What does that mean?

God:  It’s an acronym that means laughing out loud.

Adam:  What’s laughing?

God:  Laughing. That’s  hard to explain.  Well here . . .take a look at this animal, it pretty much sums up my sense of humor.

God has a platypus on a leash and hands the leash to Adam.

Adam:  Awesome!  Fur, a bill, webbed feet!

God:  Yeah it’s venomous too which most people don’t know.

Adam:   Most people?

God:  Sorry, I got ahead of myself.  So what would you like to name it, Adam?

Adam:  How about a glerk or a floob?

God: Meh . . .

Adam:    Oh I know!  How about a  tittlefuzzwamper!

God:  Okay I like the direction you’re going in now.

Adam:  Octopus?

God: You’re getting warmer.

Adam:  Snickerdoodle . . .

God:  Keep thinkin’

Adam:  A platypus?

God:  Bingo! Good thinking Adam!

Adam:  This is fun!  What’s the next animal you want me to name?

God:  How about this one?  As you can see, it has two humps on it’s back.

Adam:  What are the humps for?

God:  Looks.

Adam: Okay then, how about a platypus?

God:  You already named the platypus the platypus.

Adam:  Oh yeah . . . well how about flatypus . . .  or . . . . oh I know . . . the  blatypus . . . oh wait . . . natypus!

God:  Sigh . . .

Adam:  What’s the matter, God?

God:  I was just thinking how long this is going to take.

Adam:  What are you complaining about?  You’re the one that’s eternal!  LOL!

God:  Adam! You made a joke!  There’s hope for you yet, young man. Now think of some more names.

Adam: Okay! How about a klatypus?

God: Keep trying.

Adam:  A blatypus then?

God:  No.

Adam:  A quatypus?

God:  Nope.

Adam:  Oh I know . . . platypus!  That’s a good name, platypus! Or did I already use that one already?  Hey what are you doing, God?

God:  Creating a chair . . .

And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday school this week.  Please check back next week to find out what happens when Adam finds out all the insects are going to need names too.

Until next time  . . . I love you

Too Many Platypi

Linda’s Bedtime Stories for Grown-up Children: The Cuppencaken

 The Cuppencaken

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re late as usual! Tulip Aarff barked.

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

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

Tulip Aarff just before biting the Hagleslagen Cuppencaken dust!

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

Fun with Global Warming

Welcome Dear Readers to Friday Fictioneers where participants write a 100-word story about the new picture that is posted every week by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields over at Addicted to Purple.

Here’s this week’s cool picture taken by Janet Webb over at her blog, This That and The Other Thing:

Copyright Janet Webb
Copyright Janet Webb

Fun with Global Warming

“I just love Global Warming, Harvey!  I’ve lost ten pounds already on my all-fish diet!”

“You look great, Delores.  Love your shoes!”

“Thanks. I got them at Just Galoshes!”

“Oh no!  Delores!  Our new rowboat’s sprung a leak!”

“What? Where’d you get it? Oh don’t tell me!  Al Gore’s Rowboat Palace and Oar Emporium?”

“Yes.”

“Please say you got a life-time warranty, Harvey.”

“No.”

“A two-year, no-leak service plan?”

“No.”

“A 30-day guarantee?”

“No.”

“Did you get anything?”

“Just a pat on the back and two-week’s free Internet service.”

“That’s it?”

“And Al’s personal assurance.”

“Which was?”

“You’ll never Tipper!”

"Come buy my rowboats!"
“Come buy my rowboats!  Yeah!”

* * *

Thank you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields over at Addicted to Purple for faithfully hosting this super-fun challenge each and every week.

Until next time . . . I love you

Linda’s Video Writing Tips #3

Welcome Dear Readers!  Well, here we are at Day 3 of my week-long video writing tips.  Today’s topic is writing for money.

Well there you have it, Dear Readers.  Hope you enjoyed this tip.  Come back tomorrow for tip #4 in my series of video tips.

 

Until next time . . . I love you

My Bill Murray Groundhog Day Kiss

I’m not usually a lucky person. The slot machines I play are sure to be clinkety-clank-less, the numbers on my raffle tickets go unannounced, and, truth be told, I’ve never even had an opportunity to shout the word “Bingo” . . . unless, of course, it was his name-o.

So when I got kissed by Bill Murray at the AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-am Golf Tournament, they had to call the fire department to get me down from Cloud 9.

“No, you idiot, that’s Cloud 8!”

The whole thing would have never happened had I not stepped on the toes of a good-natured, somewhat tipsy Englishman while trying to get a glimpse of Clint Eastwood at the fifth hole at Spyglass -; breaking the ice between the Englishman and I, while simultaneously breaking most of his toes.

Not the exact Englishman  but gawdawful like him.

Clint proceeded to hit a ball that landed squarely on the green. Now, for secretive, humorous reasons known only to the British, this sent my new Broken Toed Buddy into a fit of laughter and ear-splitting wise-crack-ery; the likes of which can only be achieved after enjoying a hearty three-martini breakfast.

Take a Mulligan, Clint!” The English One advised and began to chant. “Mulli! Mulli! Mulli!” Finally, Clint turned to him and assuming his famous Dirty Harry persona (at least that’s what I assumed he was assuming) replied“Yeah, OK,” a comment to which the gallery responded with an explosion of laughter so uproarious, I was left to conclude that everybody there was British.

Then . . . suddenly . . . like a Cinderella story out of nowhere – weaving his way through the throngs to the tee—appeared The Great and Powerfully Funny, Bill Murray, Himself.

Bill Murray signing autographs at the AT&T Pro Am Pebble Golf Tournment
The Great and Powerfully Funny Bill Murray, Himself!

“Look! It’s Bill Murray!” I observed with all the subtlety of Lucy Ricardo spotting William Holden at the Brown Derby. My English Buddy didn’t miss a beat. “Hey Bill!” He screamed over the crowd. “This lady would like a kiss!”

Bill Murray responded by slowly turning around like he was Moe Howard hearing the dreaded phrase “Niagara Falls!” As he headed my way, the crowd was giddy with anticipation. I know it’s weird and maybe I’ve been watching too much I Love Lucy but what was running through my head at that exact moment was, “Wait until Ethel hears about this!”

Then, Bill Murray positioned himself in front of me and politely waited for the crowd to get their cameras ready and when the time was right . . .

Getting a kiss from Bill Murray
BINGO!

. . . suddenly the AT&T golf tournament faded away, and it was just me and my lips and Bill Murray kissing me . . . with his lips. I don’t know how long we kissed. It could have been an instant or it could have been an hour or possibly four or five hours (but I doubt it) that I was suspended in the bliss of Bill Murray’s kiss.

On the drive home, I suddenly realized it was February 2nd which meant – that’s right – I got kissed by Bill Murray on Groundhog day. And in the immortal the words of Carl the Greens keeper — after he was granted total consciousness on his deathbed by the Dali Lama –I thought:

So I got that going for me . . . which is nice.”

Bill Murray as Carl the Greens Keeper

Until next time . . . I love you (and that goes double for Bill Murray)