Crochet Your Way to Happiness!

Welcome Dear Readers! Here is a 1984 crocheting booklet that I was lucky enough to score at the thrift shop yesterday! YES! (Okay, nobody else wanted them, but still!)

Let’s Look Inside Annie’s Pattern Club Newsletter!

Humorous 80's commentary
Isn’t it  inexplicably wonderful?

Annie’s Pattern Club was (or possibly still is) a newsletter where mega-talented crocheters crocheted something original and then sent the pattern to Annie, and she would publish the cream-of-the-crop designs her newsletter.

And as you will see, never have so many people come up with so many crocheted solutions for so many things that were never a problem  in the first place.  Let’s look at a few, shall we?

Crocheted Football Mitts

Crocheted Football Mitts. Why didn't they ever "catch" on? Why?
“Gosh!  I don’t understand it.  Billy went to play football with the guys and he didn’t take his  Crocheted Football Mitts I made him.”
“Well that’s weird, maybe he didn’t want the rest of the players to feel bad because they don’t have a pair of Crocheted Football Mitts.”
“You know you’re probably right. I’ll get busy and crochet some mitts for the whole team!”
 

Church Puppet

Storybook Puppet
Need: Attention Getting Device to Keep Children Focused on Bible Stories.
Crocheted Solution: A church puppet, not to be confused the a church pulpit. (Although, a dust cozy for a church pulpit probably would have  made it into Annie’s Newsletter too.)  But what better way for little children to learn about the bible than through the crocheted lips of this memorable, but-not-in-a-good-way church puppet.  Oh sure it might give the little tikes nightmares, but they’ll certainly never forget the experience (no matter how hard they try).

Lil Guy Tie

Little Guy Tie
“Oh no Helen! I can’t find little Billy’s tie anywhere, and we’re going to be late for the formal occasion for which toddler formal attire  is required. What ever shall I do?”
“Don’t worry, Madge! While you were blabbing on and on just now, I knitted Little Billy a tie, a pair of football mitts and a church puppet.”
“Oh Helen I’m blown away!  Maybe you could crochet me something to wear to a formal occasion while you’re at it.”

What to wear to a formal occasion in the 80’s

Formal ocassion attire 80's style
“Here’s some formal attire I knitted for you while you were blowing your nose, Madge. I think it’s perfect for any formal gathering don’t you?”
“DO I! I’ll be the talk of the town wearing this outfit, Helen. Thank you!”
“You are so welcome, Midge!”
“Uh my name’s Madge.”
“Yeah whatever.  And remember, I’m only loaning you my hat!”

And there you have it Dear Readers!  Now get out there and crochet your hearts out!

Until next time . . . I love you

Gregory’s Bible Stories: Sodom and the Elephant in the Room

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories!

Today in Sunday school Gregory learned about how God’s  two angels visited Abraham’s nephew, Lot, in beautiful downtown Sodom. It’s based as loosely on Genesis: 19: 1-10 — if you’d like to follow along.

Gregory's Bible Stories Sodom and the Elephant in the Room

One day, the Lord decided to do some evil-people spring cleaning so he sent two of his right-hand angels to Sodom to destroy every man, woman and child who lived there.

When the angels got to the gates of Sodom,  Abraham’s favorite nephew, Lot, was waiting for them. As they approached, Lot jumped up and ran over to greet them by bowing down before them.

Lot:  Welcome Angels!!  Hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.  My wife’s got a big bowl of water ready so we can wash your feet. We know how much you angels love a good foot washing. And then my wife will prepare you a fabulous dinner.

Angel #1:  What’s she making?

Lot:  Tacos.

Angel #2:  Out of what kind of meat?

Lot:  Good question.  You know I never thought to ask.

Angel #1:  Oh. well in that case, thanks for the offer but we’ll just spend the night out in the open, here in the Sodom city square. I’m sure we’ll be fine.

Lot:  Listen Angels, I wouldn’t advise that.

Angel #2:  Why?

Lot:  I’ll spare you the gory details, but everyone who lives in Sodom is horribly depraved.

Angel#1:  Really, you mean they don’t always return their library books on time?

Lot:  It’s worse than that I’m afraid.

Angel #2:  You mean they sneak and eat the last piece of Angel food cake without asking first if the Lord wants it?

Lot:  Worse than that even.

Angel #1:  Gasp!

Angel #2:  Gasp! Choke! Gasp!

The angels fumbled around in their between-wing backpacks until they found their asthma inhalers.  Then they all sat down and rested awhile and got to know each other better.  They were in the middle of exchanging their funniest foot-washing stories when it started to get dark.

Lot:  Aha ha ha!   . . . and you thought the bowl of dirty foot water was the soup? . . . ahaha . . . oh you guys are killing me.  Ha ha ha!  Ahhhhh!  But hey it’s getting dark, angels, we better hasten to my house and bolt the door shut, move the dresser in front of it, roll a huge boulder in front of that and then get the elephant to shore it all up with his trunk.

Angel #1:  Sounds like somebody got a new home security system!

Lot:  Yeah and if anybody breaks in and rapes us, we get one month free!

Angel #1:  Wow!  That a great deal.

So Lot and the two angels high tailed it over to his house.  Lot’s wife and daughters had just finished preparing the tacos and were sitting in the corner busily perfecting their foot washing techniques on the elephant’s feet and marveling, once again,  at how handy it was to have an elephant around the house.

Sometime after dinner:

Angel #1:  Those were great tacos, Mrs. Lot.

Mrs. Lot:  Thank you, but I thought I used a little too much–

Angel #1:   Salt?

Mrs. Lot:   You thought so too.

Angel #2:  What kind of meat was that, anyway?

Mrs. Lot:  It was—

Before Mrs. Lot could answer, an angry mob began pounding on Lots door.  

Lot:  Who is it?

Angry Mob:  It’s us.  Sodom’s angry mob of men, young and old.

Lot:  What do you want?

Angry Mob:  We want you to send out the two angels so we can–

Lot:  Have them go with you to return your library books?

Angry Mob.  Yeah that’s it.

Lot:  Well I have two daughters who could help you with that.  They’re virgins and spend most of their time at the library, so they know the fastest way there.

Lot’s daughter:  Dad!  Stop it!  You’re embarrassing us!  We don’t want to help them return their library books!

Lot:  One more word out of you, young lady, and I wont’ let you clean up after the elephant anymore.

Lot’s Daughter:  Sorry dad.

Angry Mob:  We’re going to keep pounding on this door until you open it.

Lot:  What shall we do?

Angel #1 to Angel #2:  We could strike them all blind.

Angel #2 to Angel #1:  That’s a thought.

Lot:  Or you could strike all of us deaf, and then we couldn’t hear the pounding.

Mrs. Lot:  But then we couldn’t hear the elephant, if he needed us.

Lot:  Good point.

Angel #1:  We could strike them so they can’t taste or smell anything.

Lot’s Wife:  How about striking us so we can’t smell anything.

Angel #1:  Why?

Lot’s Wife:  If you have to ask, you’ve never lived with an elephant.

Angel #1:  Let’s just go with my original idea to strike all of them blind.

Lot:  Okay fine.  But they’re pounding on the door already.  Won’t they still know where the door is?

Angel #2:  Lot.

Lot:  Yes?

Angel #2:  I think I hear your elephant calling.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School today. Be sure to check back next week when the angels destroy Sodom and Lot’s wife becomes a pillar in the community.

Until next time . . . I love you

One evening at Lot's House
One evening at Lot’s House

 

 

Farewell to Thee — My Beloved 3 3 3

Dear Readers, today marks the very last entry for the Trifecta Writing Challenge.

 After years of dedicated service to so many of us  writers, the editors have decided to close up shop and pursue new and exciting adventures.

I can honestly say, I’ve never had so much fun writing as I have writing for the wonderful and thoughtful writing challenges the editors at the Trifecta Writing Challenge set up for us each week.

It boggles my mind when I think of how much time and effort, thought and dedication they put into it. And I learned so much about how to write and met so many wonderful writers!

I appreciate all that they’ve done more than they’ll ever know.  And so it is with a heavy heart that I write this final challenge.

Farewell to Thee My Beloved 3 3 3

 Ah! Creative bliss!

Our weekly word bouquet

Where our words did pile up

 In fabulous array!

But over now, just let me say

There’s really nothing worse

When pretty-little, piled-words

Must scatter and disperse

 With much love and appreciation from just a few of those who would have never existed without you,

Tracey Hollaway
Mr. Wondlewinkie
Deputy Darwood Blick
Melvin Meebee
Wesley Nonlinger
Strutner Von Puddlepants
Mrs. MacSmathers
El Guapo
The Knee Deepians
Puffy Weemers
Piedmond Poink
Toots Tenyada
Heebs Hoover
Spendal Braun
Layla Bernice Stub
Annamarie Anabella Dot
Specks MacDiddles
Benjamin Feldermyer
Roger Lapew
Sarah Bubbles
Marty McDump
Chlorine Carmichael’s Mother
Markie MacGiggles
Magnificent Jones
Spinkz McCoy
Valeria Lafoot
Zingy Zanderlini
Judy Beyerstrom
Ingernelly Asp
Myopic Kate
Vince Valdarian
Turnelly’s Junkyard Hamster
Quasar Pottimas
The Angel Landsburyians
Lemonmaringuepieuary
Dilly Dallyer
The Residents of Panhandler Pennsylvania
Father Ozzie
Rear Admiral Rasputin Riboflavin
Jake Spitzwater
Marlene Frappizio
Dr. Sarandon Rap
Pamela Darling
Smolden Farlington
Shelden Pilfington
Little Horribella
Nigel Cornhusker
Larry Flerd
Becky Slater

Yaard Flunder
Don Bunkley
Studs McCain
Charlie Center
Al One
Talligas Harrington
Don Deeble
Helen Henderdorkle
Miss Penelope
Pickles the Snake
King Tut’s Righ and left-hand man
Dr. Cartwheel

 

Until next time . . . I love you

The First 100 Words of Constanza Credenza

Welcome Dear Readers!  While I was climbing to the top of Wednesday, I  accidentally slipped and fell into Thursday.  I coudn’t reach my computer as  it was still in Wednesday!   My computer finally caught up with me this morning!  Just in time for Friday Fictioneers on Thursday.  Yay!   A round of calendars for everyone — on me!

Thank you to Rochelle at Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple who’s hard work makes it possible for us to have so much 100-word writing fun!

This week’s picture is brought to us by Claire Fuller.  Visit   Claire Fuller   and read about her fantastic novel publishing success!

claire-fuller-2

The First 100 Words of Constanza Credenza

Constanza Credenza had horrible eyes

She saw splotches and blotches (they weren’t organized)

She’d grope around blindly while trying to fake

Like she knew that the pie she was eating was cake

 

Constanza Credenza had horrible feet

Whenever she put on her Keds they’d preheat

So that placing a piece of white bread on her shoe

Would cause it to toast to a golden brown hue

 

Constanza  Credenza was horribly rude

Plus when she sat down her pancreas moo-ed!

The poor dear, she drank and was often besotted

(But to list all her faults takes more words than allotted)

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Visit from the Kind of Crazy Crabby Christmas Lady

Welcome Dear Readers!  Well we almost did it.  We almost got through Christmas without a visit from the Kind of Crazy Crabby Christmas Lady.  Unfortunately when I opened up the blog today she was camped outside waiting for us with her cats,  17 fruit cakes and a stick of dynamite.   I think we better humor her, don’t you?  Oh here she comes now . . . act natural . . . 

The Kind of Crazy Crabby Christmas Lady
The Kind of Crazy Crabby Christmas Lady

“Merry Christmas Crabby Christmas Lady! What a surprise!  Fancy meeting you here!”

Listen Toots.   I’m not a big fan of Christmas.  Okay? Got that?  First of all, Christmas comes every single year. That’s way too often, Toots.  Waaay too often!  Christmas should come every  five years. That way everybody wouldn’t be so sick of it.   And Jesus would be much younger too.  It’s called a win/win, Toots! Okay? Got that?

“Well Christmas Lady, that’s an interesting idea but—“

Toots I’m not done talking yet.  If Christmas only came once every five years, the Christmas songs wouldn’t be so annoying and repetitive!

“Well, I suppose if—“

Toots!  Stop talking and get some saucers of milk for my cats.  Okay?  Got that?

“Uh I don’t think I have that many saucers, Christmas Lady . . .”

Toots I’m not done talking yet!  The Christmas songs are annoying because of all the bells jing-jing-jingling!   And all the hark hark harking as in hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away — what does that mean exactly, Toots? The bells are ringing and ringing and ringing so loud you can’t even hear yourself think, Toots!  You just can’t!  And they are telling you to “throw cares away and buy whatever you want . .  whatever you want, Toots!   Aluminun foil. The bells don’t care that you already have 14,000 boxes of Aluminum foil in your storage unit.  It doesn’t matter if you can’t afford it because the bells told me to do it, Toots!  Toots are you listening? What are you opening the door and handing me my coat, Toots?

“Listen I hate to cut our visit short but—“

Which brings us to the Christmas sugar, Toots! A hahahaha!  I’m dreaming of a white C & H  pure cane sugar from Hawaii Christmas, Toots!  What with all the sugar cookies and the sugar candy and the sugar plums and the sugar houses and the sugar nativity scenes. Have you ever tried to eat a tree ornament, Toots? They are edible you know. They are made of sugar plastic . . . mmm. . . sugar plastic!

And do you know what sugar plastic does Toots?  Well do you?

“Uh  I’m not really listening anymore, Christmas Lady, I— “

Listen and listen good, Toots!  Sugar plastic causes your little fat cells to sit up straight and pay attention all innocent-like at their little fat cell card tables covered with the tiny candy cane plastic table cloths wearing their teensy Santa bibs and Santa hats each holding miniscule red and green plastic forks which they will devour when they are done because they are made out of sugar plastic too.  Okay? Got that?

“Yes Christmas Lady.  By the way, I’m going to be out of town next year at Christmas so there’s no need to be dropping by again.”

Fine.  Good I’m leaving now, Toots. Okay?  Got that?  Here kitty kitty kitty . . 

“Bye Kind of Crazy Crabby Christmas Lady.  Merry Christmas!”

Phew!  I didn’t think we were every going to get rid of her did you, Dear Readers?  Oh look she left us a present under the tree.  Let’s open it early shall we?  Why it’s a stick of dynamite.  Well bless her Kind of Crazy Crabby Christmas heart!

Until next time . . . I love you!

A Very ‘OMG!! Shut the Hell Up, Girlfriend!’ Christmas!

Merry Christmas Dear Readers and welcome to the very first day of the five days of Blog Festivus 2013.  For Blog Festivus 2013,  I’ll be posting a 200-word Christmas story every day this week based on Charles Dickens Christmas Carol.   For more details, pop over to Blogdramedy and  read all about it!

A Very ‘OMG!! Shut the Hell Up, Girlfriend!‘ Christmas!

OMG!! Shut the hell up, girlfriend!  Did I hear you correctly?  You’re telling me my boyfriend, Ebenezer Scrooge, is getting me a Christmas gift this year? The original Mr. Cheapskate? What’s that?  You have it on good authority!  Why that adorable, darling, wonderful Neezy! Who knew he was such a sweetheart?  OMG!! I just thought of something, girlfriend!  OMG!! It’s an engagement ring, isn’t it, girlfriend?  OMG!! What’s that?  You can’t tell me?  Shut the hell up, girlfriend, of course you can!  OMG!! I promise I won’t spill the beans.  Ebenezer’s not home now anyways.   He’s over at some relative’s house duct taping somebody’s crutch back together.  Who’s crutch? Oh, I don’t know, someone named Tiny Tim, I think.  Ebenezer broke it trying to fish a penny out of a storm drain!  They wanted him to pay for it?  Can you imagine my Neezy paying for anything? What’s that?  No.  I don’t know why they call him Tiny Tim.  Maybe he’s a midget or something. Who cares?  I’m getting engaged!  OMG!! What’s that?  Yes, I know you didn’t say it was an engagement ring.  But shut the hell up, girlfriend!  It’s an engagement ring!! OMG!!

"What?  An engagement right for Moi?  Shut the hell up, girlfriend!"
“What? An engagement right for moi? Shut the hell up, girlfriend!”

Until next time . . . I love you

Trifecta 33-Word Challenge: How Swiss Cheese Got Its Holes

Welcome Dear Readers!  This weekend’s Trifecta Writing Challenge is as follows:

In The Scorpio Races, author Maggie Stiefvater writes, “It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.” Give us the next thirty-three words of this story, as you imagine it. Take it wherever you like, but make it original and make it 33 words exactly.  

How Swiss Cheese Got Its Holes

“It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.”

Are you psychic?

Yes. On 11/2/13 a torpedo will blow up the world’s largest block of cheese.

Another psychic message?

No it’s on my calendar:  Buy cheese-destroying torpedo, locate world’s largest block of cheese.

State -of-the- art, cheese- seeking missle
 One state -of-the- art, cheese- seeking torpedo down one world’s-largest-block-of-cheese to go!

Until next time . . . I love you

 

 

33-Word Trifecta Challenge: The Movie Set

Welcome Dear Readers to this weekend’s Trifecta Writing Challenge where we are asked to write to about famous trios.

One Day on the Movie Set

This scene needs pigs, who hired the bears?

The mice, sir.

Are they, blind?

Yes.

Who hired blind casting directors?

Three Musketeers, sir. 

Bring them here!

Can’t.

Why?

Eaten by the bears, sir.

Juvenile-Illustration-The-Three-Bears-By-Leo-Tolstoy-8-144x150
“Hey! Save some fluffy nugget center for your old man, will ya?”

Until next time  . . . I love you

 

 

33-Word Trifecta: Tether Ball, The Sport of Kings

Welcome, Dear Readers, to the Weekend Trifecta Challenge.  Today, we are challenged to write 33-word story incorporating the words: Tether, Loft and Crown.

Tether Ball, The Sport of Kings

Entertainment-Acrobat-Photo-The-Human-Fly1
King George

When King George would loft himself hither

To attach his ball to the tether

The jab made him cough

And his crown would slip off

Cause if it ain’t one thing it’s anither

Until next time . . . I love you

Photo:  Public Domain — Vintage Printables

List: Inappropriate Kindergarten Backpack Items

Inappropriate Items to Send in Your Child’s Backpack on the First Day of Kindergarten 

Signed blank checks made out to the teacher

Fifty Shades of Gray coloring crayons

Firecrackers

The kitty that has ringworm

Five Hour Energy Drinks

Any type of blow torch

Daddy’s arrest warrant

The I Ching

Opened bottles of ink

Mommy’s list of euphemisms for the f-word

Birds of any variety (dead or alive)

Molten Lava

Mommy’s note explaining why she ran off with the Gardner

Any type of antifreeze

Foods that are exactly the same size as a five-year-old’s esophagus

Daddy’s empty Jack Daniels Bottles

Until next time . . . I love you

What Were We Thinking Eighties

Welcome Dear Readers to the very first edition of What Were We Thinking Eighties.  Let’s start with some 1984 crocheting booklets that I was lucky enough to score at the thrift shop yesterday! YES! (Okay, nobody else wanted them, but still!)

Let’s Look Inside Annie’s Pattern Club Newsletter!

Humorous 80's commentary
Isn’t it  inexplicably wonderful?

Annie’s Pattern Club was (or possibly still is) a newsletter where mega-talented crocheters crocheted something original and then sent the pattern to Annie, and she would publish the cream-of-the-crop designs her newsletter.

And as you will see, never have so many people come up with so many crocheted solutions for so many things that were never a problem  in the first place.  Let’s look at a few, shall we?

Crocheted Football Mitts

Crocheted Football Mitts.  Why didn't they ever "catch" on?  Why?
“Gosh!  I don’t understand it.  Billy went to play football with the guys and he didn’t take his  Crocheted Football Mitts I made him.”
“Well that’s weird, maybe he didn’t want the rest of the players to feel bad because they don’t have a pair of Crocheted Football Mitts.”
“You know you’re probably right. I’ll get busy and crochet some mitts for the whole team!”
 

Church Puppet

Storybook Puppet
Need: Attention Getting Device to Keep Children Focused on Bible Stories.
Crocheted Solution: A church puppet, not to be confused the a church pulpit. (Although, a dust cozy for a church pulpit probably would have  made it into Annie’s Newsletter too.)  But what better way for little children to learn about the bible than through the crocheted lips of this memorable, but-not-in-a-good-way church puppet.  Oh sure it might give the little tikes nightmares, but they’ll certainly never forget the experience (no matter how hard they try).

Lil Guy Tie

Little Guy Tie
“Oh no Helen! I can’t find little Billy’s tie anywhere, and we’re going to be late for the formal occasion for which toddler formal attire  is required. What ever shall I do?”
“Don’t worry, Madge! While you were blabbing on and on just now, I knitted Little Billy a tie, a pair of football mitts and a church puppet.”
“Oh Helen I’m blown away!  Maybe you could crochet me something to wear to a formal occasion while you’re at it.”

What to wear to a formal occasion in the 80’s

Formal ocassion attire 80's style
“Here’s some formal attire I knitted for you while you were blowing your nose, Madge. I think it’s perfect for any formal gathering don’t you?”
“DO I! I’ll be the talk of the town wearing this outfit, Helen. Thank you!”
“You are so welcome, Midge!”
“Uh my name’s Madge.”
“Yeah whatever.  And remember, I’m only loaning you my hat!”

And there you have it Dear Readers, this blogs very first installment of What Were We Thinking Eighties.  

Until next time . . . I love you

Friday Fictioneers: On Day Down at the Cannery

Welcome Dear Readers!  Well it’s Wednesday again.  Unless I somehow went into a parallel universe just as I was making my bed this morning.  In which case, I’d like to give a shout out to the “you” in the parallel universe and wish  “you” a lovely HorsD’oeuvresday.

But whatever universe you’re in, it’s still time for Friday Fictioneers — which means it’s time to write a 100-word story about the picture below — furnished by our lovely Friday Fictioneer hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at her blog,  Addicted to Purple.

iaam
Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

One Day Down at the Cannery

The day Irene got a microscope was the day Irene began to loath large and began, instead, to fall hopelessly in love with little.

Nothing escaped Irene’s microscope slide –wood shavings (she loved to whittle), vitamins (she was fit as a fiddle) and even Jello (she was hooked on its wiggle).

Irene often pretended her Cheerios were donuts, and that she was eating them with The Incredible Shrinking Man.

Then one day down at her job at the cannery, she saw him!  Mr. Jolligreen Gyant!  And just like that, Irene began to loath little and began, instead, to fall hopelessly in love with large.

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

“Mummy tell me again about Labor Day.”

Welcome Dear Readers!  Well it’s Labor Day here in the United States of America!  Which means a lot of people get the day off.  Nobody knows why and nobody cares why.

Well, Dear Readers, I for one, feel that Labor Day is getting the shaft, and that’s why I have taken the liberty of writing an educational story about Labor Day to create awareness for Labor Day appreciation.

Mummy, Tell Me Again About Labor Day

“Mummy tell me again about Labor Day,” little Tommy Sweatington begged his mother one fine Labor Day morn. For as you know mummy,” little Tommy continued,” ’tis my favorite American Federal holiday of all!

Mummy Sweatington looked up from her task of scrubbing the floors of City Hall with a toothbrush and replied, “Tommy!  How many times have I told you never to come to City Hall wearing your pajamas!”

Mummy’s harsh words made Tommy’s heart sink and push down on his kidneys in such a way as to make the tears in Tommy’s eyes shoot out at odd trajectories.  But then he remembered it was Labor Day, his favorite American Federal holiday and his heart floated back up to it’s proper position and his tears reversed their trajectory and went back into his eyes.

Once his vision cleared, Tommy noticed something very strange.  His mother was workingMummy was working on Labor Day! 

“Mummy!” screamed Tommy, don’t you know that in 1882 Matthew MacGuire proposed Labor Day after witnessing a labor festival held in  Toronto Canada which eventually led to the observance of my most beloved American Federal Holiday  — Labor Day?  Mummy, I implore you to tell me why you are working on Labor Day?”

At this, Tommy became agitated and then Tommy became appalled and finally Tommy became apoplectic — which didn’t last very long — because right after that Tommy went back to being appalled and then merely agitated and by the time his mother looked up to answer his question, Tommy was pretty much back to normal.

“But Tommy Dear,” Mummy Sweatington replied, “I’m not working.  Scrubbing the floors of the City Hall is my hobby, silly!”

“But Mummy!” Tommy protested.  “Why would you want to have a hobby that requires you to scrub the floors of City Hall with your toothbrush?”

” Tommy darling, you don’t understand.  I’m not using my toothbrush to scrub the floors of City Hall, I’m using your toothbrush!”

And a good Labor Day laugh was had by all!

“That Mummy’s a riot!”

***

Happy Labor Day!

Until next time . . . I love you

Friday Ficitoneers: Benny Flump’s French

Hello Dear Readers!  Happy Wednesday!  The only day of the week that has a hump — giving the rest of the days of the week something to grip onto thus keeping them from flying off into space. 

Plus Wednesday is also Friday Fictioneers Day, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple  — so it’s all good.

Here’s the prompt picture which will serve as this week’s inspiration for a 100-word story provided by Dawn M. Miller.

lvbydawne_3
Copyright Dawn Miller

Benny Flump’s French

Mademoiselle Bouillabaisse-Bourgeois crossed the lobby of the Eiffel Tower, and all eyes drank of her beauty like they were drinking a tumbler of Chardonnay after eating a 16-inch baguette.

But no eyes drank more than Benny Flump’s.  Benny’s eyes were bigger than his stomach when it came to beautiful French women. And Benny thought Mademoiselle Bouillabaisse-Bourgeois the most beautiful creature he had ever pronounced.

They would marry!

At the top of the Eiffel Tower she said “I do.” Benny replied “adieu” and then jumped.

Oh, Benny Flump’s French left a lot to be desired I should have probably said earlier.

Until next time . . . I love you

 

El Guapo Writes a Story

 Dear Readers!  Good News!  I am overwhelmed to announce that one brave blogger has stepped up to this blog’s story-writing challenge  by using not just one . . . not just two . . . but  ALL TEN WRITING PROMPTS!  which were presented here yesterday.

Who is this Death-Defying Wordsmith?  This Participle-Dangling Daredevil? This Purger of Profundity?  (Okay I’ll stop now.)  

Why it’s none other than our Beloved, El Guapo, The Friday Foolishness Frontiersman of WordPress!

The Adventures of El Guapo and His Side-kick, Abraham Lincoln

1)  Abraham Lincoln was using his axe to prune the Rhododendron. He was doing this because he was grumpy that when he was done he would need to transplant an organ at the church. Then he was grumpy for the sake of being grumpy for the number 2 (2) and no reason besides that.

While it was odd that Abe Lincoln was out doing this kind of work (especially in the 21st century, it really was his own fault. (3) He had shot the gardener, Fats, (Fats had a green thumb.) (Literally, as he was an alien.), in the Skinny part of his throat after Fats told him he could no longer wear the Hideous stove-pipe hat.

He also shot him because Fats had a Tragically awful habit of capitalizing adjectives. It was later that afternoon that Abe realized Fats may have been so skinny due to genetics, or possibly because of a tragic accident. (That was after he saw a (4) steamroller flatten a poor woman from something resembling a Sputnik to something the thickness of a harpsichord.) (The sight almost ruined his lunch. “Oy Vey” he lamented into his tibbs and pickles sandwich at his favorite sandwich shop, They Call Me Mr Tibbs.) (But his appetite came back since he was so tired. Organ transplanting really”takes it out of you”)  Editor’s note: Author has been slapped for that awful joke above.

After lunch, Abe went to see his friend (5) Hum Cwart, who he always called Kumquat. Even though Hum wasn’t green or an alien. It’s a sad fact that Hum couldn’t see Abe, or even see that Abe was mispronouncing the name. But that’s another story. The fifth, I believe. Now for those who don’t know, Abe was a statesman, known best for his dealings with the Chinese. Or at least General Tso, and his delightful companions known as (6)Wang-Lang and Lang-Wang.

He never knew their last names because they never used them. Now, as it happens, since they gave up smoking, the Ang-Angs (as Abe called them) became dress makers. They made dresses because they could test them by dancing in them to work off all the nervous energy from not smoking. They made a dress for their dear client (7) Lucy.

As a surprise, her husband Ricky picked it up, and the Ang-Angs told him that even though it was expensive, it was their best dunce dress. Ricky was so angry, and dragged Lucy into the store yelling at her for buying a stupid dress. Realizing the misunderstanding, the Ang-Angs donned the dress (together, for they were very thin), and demonstrated it was a “dance” dress, being careful this time to enunciate. Ricky was so ashamed, but Lucy said the studio audience loved it and off they went. As the Ang-Angs were reminiscing,

Abe interrupted, saying “Something smells rotten in Denmark”. Most people would say that was a euphemism, but Abe was well known for his scenting ability and the prowess of his schnoz. In fact, he had famously versed (8) “The nose knows the woes of those what owes the toes”, which was accepted as very profound by those who had no idea what the hell he was talking about.

What Abe,  in fact,  would have loved to be talking about was (9) women behind women behind woman, all oiled up. But Abe was shy and didn’t think that kind of talk was appropriate in mixed company, shaken or stirred. So with nothing left to do, (10) Abe mounted his trusty horse, Glue, and headed back to the 1850s to invent the stapler.

For their efforts, I am officially awarding El Guapo and his sidekick, Abraham Lincoln, this hastily made  much coveted trophy:

El Guapo and Abe

I think you’ll agree that nobody deserves this trophy more than El Guapo  — with the possible exception of Abraham Lincoln.

Until next time . . . I love you