37, Me and The Big D

Welcome Dear Readers to Linda Vernon Humor 2.0!  

Oh happy day! The time has come to start writing again.   The main thing that has happened to me since I last wrote, 1016 days ago, is that I am now divorced from my husband of 40 years who I always referred to on this blog as 37.

You can read about 37 and all the fun we used to have here if you’re curious (but I wouldn’t bother if I were you).

So why did 37 and I get a divorce?

I’ll spare you the gory details, because I honestly don’t know them.  Suffice it to say, it was a mighty big surprise to me when 37 came home from work one night and sat me down and explained he didn’t want to be married anymore. I can’t even remember what he said.  I only remember his explanation didn’t make much sense.  But he wrapped it up in 40 minutes before he left to go to a hotel — so one minute for every year we were married.  I don’t know if he planned it that way, but he is an engineer, and they are known for being precise.

You can read about 37 being an engineer here (but I wouldn’t bother if I were you).

 37 dropped off the face of the planet and is now rumored to be living on the planet’s neck and shoulders (or possibly lower)

I’ve only seen 37 a couple of times since he left.  It’s all very unreal, Dear Readers, and it has taken me 1016 days to get my bearings figured out. (I was a D student in bearings class.) But I’m happy to report that I have decided to have a ball with the rest of my life anyway and that includes writing humor. Because I’ve found that it’s hard to be depressed when you are trying to think up funny stuff.

Divorce Helpful Hints

So what have I learned from going through a divorce after 40 years of marriage?  I’ve learned how to go out on dates.  I’ve learned how to drive places I normally would have never dreamed of driving. I’ve learned how to  open a jar pickles with my own strength.  Okay not really.  But I have learned not to buy pickles anymore. I’ve learned that it’s nice not to have a man in the house who eats  all the potato chips before you get any and much more which I will write about from time to time.

Anyway, thank you for coming to check out Linda Vernon Humor 2.0.  And I look forward to connecting with all of you!

Until next time . . . I love you

 

 

Pottery Barn FAQ’s

This is NOT your ordinary wicker chair.  It’s a Pottery Barn chair! Which can only mean one thing:  this chair was made entirely of sea grass . . . SUSTAINABLE sea grass! 

Naturally everybody and their dog wants to know how Pottery Barn makes a chair out of sustainable sea grass.  How? how? how? everybody asks!  Woof? Woof? Woof?  asks everybody’s dogs.

And so, here’s some Pottery Barn Sustainable Sea Grass FAQ’s:

What does Pottery Barn mean by seagrass?

Pottery Barn knew you wouldn’t know that.  Like most Americans, you have probably never spent much time, if any, walking around on the bottom of the ocean like Pottery Barn has.  But if you did, you would find that on the bottom of every ocean is a gigantic lawn where sea creatures of all shapes and sizes bring their families to relax, play croquet and run three-tentacled races.

What does Pottery Barn mean by sustainable?

You don’t get out much do you?  After paying out beaucoup bucks and attending umpteen seminars on global warming and adhering to strict guidelines ad nauseam, PB has become licensed by Al Gore, himself, to use the word sustainable to describe a person, place or thing in Pottery Barn catalogs until well past the year 2017.

What does Pottery Barn mean by sustainable seagrass?

You would ask that.  Sustainable seagrass is any seagrass that has been painstakingly trimmed by the very fingers of Al Gore, himself,  in such a way as to make it grow back quickly and also in such as way as to give Al Gore a killer back ache in such a way as to cause Al Gore to hire a female masseuse to come to his room and give him a massage in such a way as to cause Al Gore to act so weird his wife divorces him.

But how does Pottery Barn make a chair out of seagrass?

Nosy aren’t you?  Again the answer lies with  Al Gore. As you may or may not know, Al Gore used to be the Vice President of the United States of America where he spent hours upon hours snacking on Funions and waiting for something untoward to happen to Bill Clinton.  He managed to keep busy by inventing a process he calls braiding.

On any given day, you can find Al Gore along with Leonardo Di Caprio (Al Gore’s best-looking, boot-licker sidekick) busily braiding sustainable seagrass chairs, lamps and even masseuse tables for Pottery Barn to offer to their highly discerning customers who are willing to pay top dollar for any furniture braided by Al and Leo as long as they 1) promise to wash their hands first and 2) promise to preface all Al and Leo’s offerings with the adjective “sustainable.”

But why does Pottery Barn call itself a  pottery barn when it is clearly a store?

Go away kid you bother me.

 

Until next time  . . . I love you (way more than Pottery Barn)