humorous commentary

Things That Got Flushed That Hadn’t Oughta

Quote Linda Vernon The Daily Routine , , , , , , ,

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

Sports Illustrated Brings Us 1963

Linda Vernon Flipping Through Vintage Magazines, The Daily Routine, Thrift Store Finds , , , , , , , , ,

Oh Dear Readers!  Look what crossed my path yesterday at the used bookstore!

Illustration of woman relaxing on a yatch in a two-piece Swim suit circa 1963
A Sports Illustrated Magazine from 1963!  Isn’t it wonderful? Let’s flip through it together, shall we?

Here’s 1963, Master’s Champion Jack Nicklaus  singing the praises of the MacGregor Woods with their exclusive penetrating impregnation method! Wow! Now that’s impressive!

Ad from Sports Illustrated 1963 Golf Ad
Golf in 1963 was sure a lot more interesting than it is now.

The ad goes on to explain that the exclusive penetrating impregnation method was the most talked about club feature in golf!  (Well, I should say so!)  “Because it let’s you use a wood with confidence in bad lies.”  Gosh I wonder if Tiger knows about this?

 

Hey! Who doesn’t want to live in a world where shirts were only $5.00 raise your hand!

Man in car driving away
Shh . . . don’t tell Mr.Sophisticated City Dweller who is wearing his Dacron Docoma Breeze shirt that the poor country bumpkins who just got off the  b.u.s. are laughing at him not with him.

Stuffed shirts didn’t come any less wrinkle-free than in 1963 thanks to Docoma Breeze shirts boasting Grip-Tab, Dress ‘n Play, Blake collars — which only cool city dwellers could afford at $5 a pop.  And if that didn’t make a man want to drive around Manhattan, mannequin-like, in a car three-sizes too small –1963 doesn’t know what did!

 

Don’t Worry Honey! Kent’s Micronite Filter makes cigarettes good for you!

Blah Blah
This Kent ad is the very first and the very last ad to utilize the phrase “refines away”.

Apparently back in 1963, the key to smoking fun was getting the cigarette to have the mildest taste of all!  Kent was hoping that smokers wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together and realize that the mildest taste of all would be not smoking any cigarettes at all.

 

Question!  What’s more fun than shooting guns with daddy?   Shooting guns with daddy in the house!  What else?

Father and Son unpacking Daisy BB Range
Run for cover,Sis! Look out Spot! Whoops sorry, Dear!

What better way for  fathers to bond with their sons and to teach their sons to grow up to be men than by shooting bb guns with them in the house?  Oh sure, a few of mother’s prized figureens may have to be sacrificed, and little Suzie’s buttox will probably never be the same — but it’s a small price to pay for teaching little boys what it really means to be a man — 1963 style!

Now then wasn’t that fun?  I hope you liked our little foray into the world of 1963, Dear Readers!

Until next time . . . I love you

Sports Illustrated Brings Us 1963

Linda Vernon Flipping Through Vintage Magazines, The Daily Routine, Thrift Store Finds , , , , , , , , ,

Oh Dear Readers!  Look what crossed my path yesterday at the used bookstore!

Illustration of woman relaxing on a yatch in a two-piece Swim suit circa 1963
A Sports Illustrated Magazine from 1963!  Isn’t it wonderful? Let’s flip through it together, shall we?

Here’s 1963, Master’s Champion Jack Nicklaus  singing the praises of the MacGregor Woods with their exclusive penetrating impregnation method! Wow! Now that’s impressive!

Ad from Sports Illustrated 1963 Golf Ad
Golf in 1963 was sure a lot more interesting than it is now.

The ad goes on to explain that the exclusive penetrating impregnation method was the most talked about club feature in golf!  (Well, I should say so!)  “Because it let’s you use a wood with confidence in bad lies.”  Gosh I wonder if Tiger knows about this?

 

Hey! Who doesn’t want to live in a world where shirts were only $5.00 raise your hand!

Man in car driving away
Shh . . . don’t tell Mr.Sophisticated City Dweller who is wearing his Dacron Docoma Breeze shirt that the poor country bumpkins who just got off the  b.u.s. are laughing at him not with him.

Stuffed shirts didn’t come any less wrinkle-free than in 1963 thanks to Docoma Breeze shirts boasting Grip-Tab, Dress ‘n Play, Blake collars — which only cool city dwellers could afford at $5 a pop.  And if that didn’t make a man want to drive around Manhattan, mannequin-like, in a car three-sizes too small –1963 doesn’t know what did!

 

Don’t Worry Honey! Kent’s Micronite Filter makes cigarettes good for you!

Blah Blah
This Kent ad is the very first and the very last ad to utilize the phrase “refines away”.

Apparently back in 1963, the key to smoking fun was getting the cigarette to have the mildest taste of all!  Kent was hoping that smokers wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together and realize that the mildest taste of all would be not smoking any cigarettes at all.

 

Question!  What’s more fun than shooting guns with daddy?   Shooting guns with daddy in the house!  What else?

Father and Son unpacking Daisy BB Range
Run for cover,Sis! Look out Spot! Whoops sorry, Dear!

What better way for  fathers to bond with their sons and to teach their sons to grow up to be men than by shooting bb guns with them in the house?  Oh sure, a few of mother’s prized figureens may have to be sacrificed, and little Suzie’s buttox will probably never be the same — but it’s a small price to pay for teaching little boys what it really means to be a man — 1963 style!

Now then wasn’t that fun?  I hope you liked our little foray into the world of 1963, Dear Readers!

Until next time . . . I love you

My Brain, Peanuts, Remembers The City Pool

Linda Vernon 1950's, My Brain Peanuts Remembers, The Daily Routine , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

 

Waitsburg City Pool or Gawdawful like it
The Waitsburg city pool (or gawdawful like it)

 

A Swimming Pool Fool

When I was a little girl, I was a swimming fool even though the pool in our little town left a lot to be desired.  First of all, it wasn’t heated or filtered so they had to drain it every week and refill it with water they piped in from the South Pole.  Not being a filtered pool, you’d think we would have all gotten a horrible disease like typhoid fever, leprosy or at the very least, Polio, but the water was either too cold to sustain microbial life or nobody could ever stay in long enough to catch anything.

The Magic of Turning Nine

Until I was in the fourth grade, all my summer mornings were spent begging and pleading with my mother to take me to the swimming pool.  But when I turned nine, she decided I was old enough to go to the city pool on my own. So every morning I’d get up and kill time by playing hide and seek with the neighborhood kids until the magical hour of 1:00 o’clock when the city pool opened.  My mother would fix me a tuna sandwich and make me wait half an hour before I could head out to the pool lest I get a cramp and drown. For some reason known only to 1950-ites, the most dangerous thing a person could do in the fifties would be to down a tuna sandwich and then dive directly into a body of water.  You would get a cramp and you would drown.  Period.  End of story.

leading cause of drowning in the 50's
Leading cause of drowning 1950-style

The Art of Towel Rolling

The towel you brought to the swimming pool said a lot about how well your parents had their acts together. The parents who had their acts totally together bought their children their own beach towels every summer with a cute picture of a whale or a beach umbrella emblazoned across its front.  Other parents who didn’t have their acts quite as together didn’t mind if their child brought whatever towel happened to be hanging on the towel rack that day.  And then there were the  parents who didn’t have their acts together at all.  These were the parents who were big believers in sun-dried kids.

My parents fell into the middle category.  I would take some dingy towel off the towel rack everyday and fold it in half length-wise and roll my swimming suit up in it.  Then I would put on my thongs (which is the fifties speak for flip-flops)  and I’d head out across town to the city pool to join the small group of children who were also addicted to the swimming pool as much as I was.

The Regulars

Looking back on it now, there were about five of us who came every single day without fail.   Most of them were sun-dried kids and for a while I forsook my towel to fit in.  (I’d tell you their names but I’m not sure they had any.)  Anyway, we would simply find a dry spot on the cement and lay there until we got hot enough to brave the frigid waters of Antarctica for another ten minutes of splish-splashing hypothermia.

Jackknifes, Cannonballs and Cutaways

Most of my activity at the pool was waiting in line to go off the diving board.  My  ‘go to’ dive was a jackknife.  My friend, Susan Weber, was a whiz at a dive called the cutaway. While us girls worked on our dives, the boys were perfecting their cannonballs — a dive that never made any sense to me because why make a big splash if you can’t see it?  But I do remember the boys who were a little on the hefty side being much better at the cannonball than their skinnier counterparts.

After Swimming Hunger

I have never been hungrier than I was in the fifties.  Being a kid lends itself to a lot of hunger.  The hunger you feel from only eating one bite of breakfast before school and counting the seconds until lunch.  The hunger you feel after waiting for lunch to find that you are too finicky to eat hamburger gravy and sandy butter sandwiches. And then there’s the  hunger you feel after school from being too picky to eat a decent breakfast and lunch.

Seven Bowls of Cheerios

But the hunger I felt after swimming all afternoon in the city pool beats them all. It’s the kind of hunger that only seven bowls of Cheerios swimming in a soup of sugary milk can satisfy.  Sitting at the kitchen table, eating Cheerios with the late afternoon sun pouring through the window and knowing that after you finish your last bowl, the Three Stooges will be on.  Does life get any better than that?

I think not.

Cheerios from the 1950's

Until next time . . . I love you

How to Be Healthy

Linda Vernon videos , , , , ,

Welcome Dear Readers to another video I made.  Today I thought it would be fun to browse through Women’s Health Magazine. 

 

Until next time . . . I love you

Things That Got Flushed That Hadn’t Oughta

Quote Linda Vernon The Daily Routine , , , , , , ,

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Retrospectively Funny.”

Welcome Dear Readers.  The Daily Post’s writing prompt inspired me to dig up this old post I wrote about something that wasn’t funny at the time . . .

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, itself, 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

Flipping Through A 1953 Magazine

Linda Vernon 1950's, The Daily Routine, Thrift Store Finds , , , , , ,

Welcome to Friday, Dear Readers!  And on Fridays this blog takes some time off  from goofing off to pursue more leisurely pursuits like flipping through old magazines.

And to that end, here’s a magazine from 1953 I found stuck between two cookbooks at the Thrift store yesterday:

Isn't it wonderful?
Isn’t it wonderful?

Come on, let’s look inside:

Is it just me or is this little guy wearing a saucer on his head?

1953 Heinz Baby Food ad
The aliens have landed and you’ll never guess where!

This says:  “Every Woman is Beautiful Thru Pregnancy”

Uh . . . not in this outfit she isn’t.

1953 magazine humorous commentary, Linda Vernon Humor
Gosh! When did my hair get so ugly.

The note at the top of this page says: Painted for the Green Giant Company by Norman Rockwell.

Just think! In 1953 you could still hire Norman Rockwell to illustrate your ad!

1953 Green Giant Norman Rockwell Ad

Uh . . . judging from the color of their complexions, I think it might be a good idea for them to lay off the Libby’s Tomato Juice for a while.

1953 Magazine humorous commentary Linda Vernon Humor
“Mommy, do you think we’ll ever eat anything but tomato juice again?”
“Of course not, darling, why would we?” “Mommy, do you think we’ll ever stop dressing like twins?”
“Of course not, darling, why would we?

Something in me longs for the days when gunning down Mother if she didn’t fix her children a snack of canned meat that had been “deviled”  was considered wholesome fun!

1953 Ad for Underwod Deviled Ham
Haha! Now be sure not to riddle me with bullets until after I’ve prepared your snack, you little rascals!”

While big brothers are chasing little sister (who has a a 35-year-old woman’s face) so that they can lasso her around her neck (good luck with finding her neck),  the important thing here is that they won’t scuff the floors thanks to Simoniz self-polishing floor wax!

1953 magazine humorous commentary Linda Vernon Humor
My mother had a stove just like the one in the background.

Well, Dear Readers, my scanning elbow is starting to act up again so we’ll quit for today, but I hope you enjoyed this little romp back to 1953!

Until next time . . . I love you

33-Word Trifecta Writing Challenge: Stupendous News!

Linda Vernon Trifecta Writing Challenges , , , , , , , , , ,

LInda Vernon Humor 33-words about bigfoot Welcome Dear Readers! This week’s 33-word Trifecta Challenge is to ponder the resurgence and ultimate triumph of nature and growth and light.

 I hope the good editors don’t mind that I have taken the liberty of putting my own spin on what I would consider the ultimate triumph of nature.

Stupendous News!

Dear Monster Quest:

Stupendous news!!  I’m elated to inform you that hidden cameras have revealed Bigfoot exists, and he’s agreed to a reality show!

Not quite as stupendous news.   He has an agent.

LInda Vernon Humor Big Foot
“And another thing, Maury. I don’t work for peanuts. It’s nuts and berries all the way or I’m a no show, got it?”

Until next time . . . I love you

Manifesting Fingernail Files

Linda Vernon The Daily Routine , , , , , , , , ,

Welcome Dear Readers. Since I’m going to be on a vacation for the next couple of days, I’ll be fishing some things out of the archives for you.

Manifesting

I don’t know if I’m doing something right or if I’m doing something wrong when it comes to manifesting.

For instance, I am a recently converted White Cake Fanatic, and I am always in search of my next wonderfully delicious piece of white cake with white frosting.

Today when I got done getting my back adjusted at the chiropractor’s office, I was offered and accepted a piece of the most delicious white cake I’ve ever had.

It was so good, it was worth putting my back out for.  So that should tell you something (I’m not sure what, but if you find out e-mail me).

Being offered white cake unexpectedly like that made me think that maybe I actually manifested it.  Or at least my inner sweet tooth did.  Which is wonderful and thank you, Universe (Uni) for arranging that.

Then there was the manifestation that happened the other day.  37, (my husband) and I were both in need of a fingernail file.

Of course, there wasn’t a single one to be found so I made a mental note to buy some next time I was out.

I don’t know why I bother making mental notes at all since  my mental note system is horribly flawed. I think Peanuts, my brain, must be filing  my mental notes using the Dewey Decimal System — which I have always found unnecessarily confusing.

But anyway, the good news is that it turns out I didn’t need my mental note anyway, because I completely manifested a fingernail file all by myself!

For you see within the pages of this 1936 Wear-Ever new method of Cooking booklet I found at the thrift store THE VERY NEXT DAY was a . . . well guess . . . .go ahead guess!

Okay, never mind I’ll tell you. 

A fingernail file!  I kid you not (mainly because I don’t even know who you are).

It happened while I was showing 37 the1936 Wear-Ever Cook booklet — and I was pointing out how it looked more like a 1960’s booklet rather than one from 1936, because it was turquoise and space-agey.  I should know, as I consider myself a fake expert on the subject.

37 was listening and  pretending to be interested when . . . well sir, right then and there in the center of the booklet was a fingernail file! 

(I was even going to end that sentence with three exclamation points but when all is said and done it was only a fingernail file after all — manifested or no.)

Aren’t you absolutely floored that I managed to manifest that fingernail file so quickly and without even really trying? I know! Me too!

Of course, I would have been a teensy more excited about manifesting it, if it didn’t make me slightly sick to my stomach to find a fingernail file in a cookbook.  But still . . . I’m manifesting stuff aren’t I?  And that’s the important thing.

Until next time. . . I love you

My Brain, Peanuts, Notices Some Little Things

Linda Vernon My Brain, Peanuts, The Daily Routine , , , , , , , , ,

Hello Dear Readers and welcome!  Before we go kicking and screaming (in a good way) into the weekend, I thought it would be fun to share with you some random things that crossed the path of my brain, Peanuts.

  You want me to throw what in where?

 

Someone stuck a sign on the trash can outside my grocery store directing passersby to only throw “trash” into it.

Apparently so many people have been throwing stuff in there that’s not trash, the grocery store employees were unable to get any work done so they had to make a sign for the trash can that says “Trash.”

Well who can blame them?  They are probably sick and tired of people throwing away bag after bag of perfectly good cash or bag after bag of perfectly good puppies or bag after bag of perfectly good babies.

These people have work to do people!

And their job descriptions do not include fishing large amounts of cash and/or puppies or the occasional baby out of the trash all the live-long day!  Do you mind?

 Now that’s the attitood I like to sea!

Here’s a nice little sign I saw while waiting in line at Fresh Choice. As you can see, they offer salads to go Mon – Fry only.  You’ll also notice they are offering their customers a special as well, but they are being kind of crabby about it.  The sign tells us it’s $4.99 Salad Bar Only but it sort of feels like what they really wanted to say was $4.99 Salad Bar Only You Stupid Idiot.

Here’s bit of wonderful news from junk mail:

Now that’s a handy piece of news from the National Association for Continence!  I am totally amazed that two out of three people with bladder control symptoms (and what symptoms are those? . . .  well, we can guess can’t we?)  don’t do ANYTHING about it — which means . . . well, let’s not think about.

I am more amazed, however, that there is actually someone walking around right this very minute with a business card that reads:

National Association for Continence, Managing Director

Which proves, once again, Dear Readers, that it’s the little things that make life worth living! Have a wonderful weekend!

Until next time . . . I love you

Sports Illustrated Brings Us 1963

Linda Vernon Flipping Through Vintage Magazines, The Daily Routine, Thrift Store Finds , , , , , , , , ,

Oh Dear Readers!  Look what crossed my path yesterday at the used bookstore!

Illustration of woman relaxing on a yatch in a two-piece Swim suit circa 1963
A Sports Illustrated Magazine from 1963!  Isn’t it wonderful? Let’s flip through it together, shall we?

Here’s 1963, Master’s Champion Jack Nicklaus  singing the praises of the MacGregor Woods with their exclusive penetrating impregnation method! Wow! Now that’s impressive!

Ad from Sports Illustrated 1963 Golf Ad
Golf in 1963 was sure a lot more interesting than it is now.

The ad goes on to explain that the exclusive penetrating impregnation method was the most talked about club feature in golf!  (Well, I should say so!)  “Because it let’s you use a wood with confidence in bad lies.”  Gosh I wonder if Tiger knows about this?

 

Hey! Who doesn’t want to live in a world where shirts were only $5.00 raise your hand!

Man in car driving away
Shh . . . don’t tell Mr.Sophisticated City Dweller who is wearing his Dacron Docoma Breeze shirt that the poor country bumpkins who just got off the  b.u.s. are laughing at him not with him.

Stuffed shirts didn’t come any less wrinkle-free than in 1963 thanks to Docoma Breeze shirts boasting Grip-Tab, Dress ‘n Play, Blake collars — which only cool city dwellers could afford at $5 a pop.  And if that didn’t make a man want to drive around Manhattan, mannequin-like, in a car three-sizes too small –1963 doesn’t know what did!

 

Don’t Worry Honey! Kent’s Micronite Filter makes cigarettes good for you!

Blah Blah
This Kent ad is the very first and the very last ad to utilize the phrase “refines away”.

Apparently back in 1963, the key to smoking fun was getting the cigarette to have the mildest taste of all!  Kent was hoping that smokers wouldn’t put 2 and 2 together and realize that the mildest taste of all would be not smoking any cigarettes at all.

 

Question!  What’s more fun than shooting guns with daddy?   Shooting guns with daddy in the house!  What else?

Father and Son unpacking Daisy BB Range
Run for cover,Sis! Look out Spot! Whoops sorry, Dear!

What better way for  fathers to bond with their sons and to teach their sons to grow up to be men than by shooting bb guns with them in the house?  Oh sure, a few of mother’s prized figureens may have to be sacrificed, and little Suzie’s buttox will probably never be the same — but it’s a small price to pay for teaching little boys what it really means to be a man — 1963 style!

Now then wasn’t that fun?  I hope you liked our little foray into the world of 1963, Dear Readers!

Until next time . . . I love you

Say, Speaking of Licking Honey Off Pencils . . .

Linda Vernon Pets, The Daily Routine, Thrift Store Finds , , , , , , ,

Hello Dear Readers.  Here’s what I did yesterday:

1)

I got up out of bed (I would have sprung up out of bed but that particular spring is on the fritz.)   Stumbled to the three C’s — Coffee, Computer, and Ceyboard.  Stared out the window for a while but didn’t see any UFO’s.    Wrote a post.

2)

Took my little dog/toupee, Cha, for a walk around the neighborhood while keeping a lookout for UFO’s.  Still didn’t see any.

my dog chauncey Linda Vernon Humor
Toupee in Training

3)

Went to the Spaghetti Factory for lunch with the family. After that we went to park across the street.  Didn’t see any UFO’s there either. (I think they’re deliberately avoiding me.)

4)

Went to a couple of thrift stores.  And that’s when I spotted the  UFO!    (Not really — just trying to drum up a little excitement.  Note to self:  get new drum.)

5)

But while I was there I did come across this “Cool and Collected” magazine:

CA home + design Magazine humorous commentary Linda Vernon Humor
It’s so cool and collected it doesn’t feel the need to tell you what it’s about.

Let’s see if we can glean what “ca HOME +DESIGN” is about by the hints on the cover shall we? 

Let’s see . . .  maybe it’s about a man who enjoys wearing a 1945 Movie Theater Usher’s uniform while relaxing in his trendy, cement home that also doubles as a  trendy nuclear fallout shelter and/or bank vault.

And it also looks like maybe 1945 Theater Usher Man put too much honey on his toast this morning and got honey all over his fingers and then reached into his pencil box and got honey all over his pencils too –getting everything hopelessly suck together and — at that exact moment– the photographers showed up to photograph 1945 Theater Usher Man’s trendy cement home.

Naturally he had no choice but to throw the whole sticky mess on the coffee table hoping to pass them off as “art”  which the photographers obviously fell for hook, line and sinker!

ca art design magazine humorous commentary
Oh that 1945 Theater Usher Man is such a stinker! A trendy, artistic stinker, but a stinker all the same.

And by the look on 1945 Theater Usher Man’s face, you can just tell he is eagerly anticipating licking the honey off those pencils the second the photographers leave.

ca home design magazine humorous commentary
“Mmmmmmm . . . honey . . . .”

1945 Theater Usher Man is also hiding his hands behind his back either because 1) he doesn’t want anyone to notice their covered with  honey or because 2) he’s hiding the fact that he’s honey-glued himself to the wall.

ca design home magazine humorous commentary Linda Vernon Humor
“La la la la la la la . . . no, I’m not stuck to the wall, why?”

Oh that 1945 Theater Usher Man may be a stinker, but he’s nobody’s fool!

Well I’m sure there a many more fun pages to discuss in this magazine, Dear Readers, but I have to go find my camera now. . . I think I just saw a UFO outside the window. Either that or I need to wash them.  Either way I bid you adieu.

Until next time . . . I love you

Trying to Cheer Up Edgar Allan Poe for The Umpteenth Time

Linda Vernon The Daily Routine, Trying to Cheer Up Edgar Allan Poe , , , , , , , ,

Hello Dear Readers!  Sometimes we have to take time out from our busy schedules to help those less fortunate — happiness-wise.  And to that end, we are taking another crack at trying to cheer up the greatest weeping word-smith of them all,  Edgar Allan Poe. 

Edgar Allan Poe, America's most bummed out bard
Edgar Allan Poe, America’s most bummed-out bard

Hi Edgar!  Hey, you’re looking more rested today.  I hope that means you’ve been sleeping better and are not staying up til dreary midnight, weak, weary and whatnot?

You are not wrong to deem — That my days have been a dream.

Oh good so that means you’ve been catching up on  your sleep by taking some cat naps?  Good for you Edgar! You’re bound to feel more chipper when you’re rested!

All that we see or seem —  Is but a dream within a dream.

Well, I don’t know about that but, okay, I’m willing to consider that idea.  I just hope you’ve been getting outside too and not just sleeping on the couch all day.

I stand amid the roar of a surf-tormented shore.

Oh so you went to the beach and the tide was in!  Well that’s good.  A day at the beach can do wonders for a person’s mood!

And I hold within my hand — Grains of a golden sand–

Oh how nice!  Now you’re seeing the glass half full!  See, Edgar,  isn’t that more fun?

How few but how they creep — Through my fingers to the deep

While I weep — while I weep!

What? Wait a minute . . .  let me get this straight.  You’re saying you picked up a handful of sand and some grains slipped out of your hand and that made you cry?  Uh, and you call yourself a grown man?  I hope you kidding, Edgar.

O God!  Can I not grasp — Them with a tighter clasp?

Well, don’t be so down on yourself.   So what if you’re too uncoordinated to hold some sand in your hand without dropping it.  What difference does it make in the big scheme of things, I mean, really Edgar!

O God!  Can I not save One — From the pitiless wave?

There you go again, Edgar, focusing on what you can’t do instead of what you can!  Hey I know!  Why don’t you go rent a surf board and try surfing instead of trying to keep the sand from washing out to sea?  It would be way more fun, I guarantee!  Hey Edgar, did you notice how what I just said  rhymes?  What do you think of my poem?

Is all that we see or seem — But a dream within a dream?

Oh yeah right, don’t say anything about my poem, just go back to sleep . . . you big crybaby!

Well, it seems our attempts to cheer up Edgar have fallen on sleeping ears!  But don’t worry, Dear Readers, for we shall never give up on our ongoing effort to cheer up the world’s most pathetic paragraphist, Edgar Allan Poe.

Until next time . . . I love you

My Brain, Peanuts, Flips Through a Magazine

Linda Vernon My Brain, Peanuts, The Daily Routine , , , , , , , ,

Hello Dear Readers!  And welcome to Friday, the apple of the week’s eye!  Today My brain, Peanuts and I thought it might be fun to take the day off from our usual silliness to just sit back and flip through magazines. 

Oh Lookee! Here’s a magazine that says San Francisco on it:

7 x7 San Francisco Magazine Send up

First of all, Peanuts notices that this is one of those expensive magazines wherein the cover doesn’t feel like it’s made out of old-fashion paper but, instead, it feels like it’s made out of some sort of super-strong, space-age material that was developed by NASA should a situation arise wherein NASA would need to, say, tow the moon to another solar system or whatever it is NASA is always developing super-strong, space-age material for.

(Peanuts is suddenly thirsty for Tang. Peanuts is going to go get some Tang.  Peanuts will wait if you want to go get some Tang too.)

Now where were we?  Oh yes Peanuts is trying to figure out what this magazine is going to be about.  But Peanuts is confused.

Linda Vernon Humor Pretentious Magazines Is this magazine going to be about 7 x 7?  Is this magazine going to be about Art + Design?  Is this magazine going to have an arithmetic test at the end? (If so, Peanuts hopes it’s multiple choice.)

Peanuts wonders why  the girl on the cover so sad.  Is she sad because she’s got runs in her stockings?  Or is she sad because she’s got no pants and nothing to sit on? Maybe she’s so sad because she can’t find her balloon?  (Peanuts thinks she should check her hair.)

(Let’s take time out for a little Tang gulping shall we?  Mmmm . . . .)

Oh Good!  Here’s the Editor’s Letter.  Maybe the Editor’s letter can explain to Peanuts what this magazine is going to be about:

Editor's Letter Pretentious Magazine

Peanuts reads that when the girl in the picture, Chloe, was six years old, she furrowed her brow at a ruined masterpiece she drew — but Chloe’s mother said Chloe could turn her ruined masterpiece into a redemptive ocean which made Chloe happy.  This says to Peanuts that Chloe was very smart for knowing when she was only six — 1) how to furrow her brow and 2) what a redemptive ocean was.

Peanuts is feeling a little bummed right now because Peanuts is ten times that old, and, while Peanuts’s brow is permanently furrowed,  Peanuts still doesn’t know what a redemptive ocean is and probably never will.  (Peanuts does like the way Chloe puts  that little x and that slash over the ‘e’ in her signature though.)

(Peanuts is adding more spoonfuls of Tang to Peanuts’s Tang right now.  Mmmm. . .  try it, it’s really good!)

Peanuts is getting tired of flipping through magazines now. Peanuts is just going to flip to one more page and then Peanuts is going to go outside and play:

pretentious Magazines Linda Vernon Humor

Oh Great Caesar’s Ghost!  Peanuts knew there was going to be a test at the end!  Peanuts told you so!! Well, at least it’s multiple choice which makes not knowing what the magazine was about go down a little smoother.  Just like Tang!

(Peanuts says let’s just forget about flipping through magazines and just go eat some Tang right out of the jar!  Wanna?)

Until next time . . . my brain

The Signature of My Brain Peanuts Linda Vernon Humor  loves you