Harmful Ingredients Lurking in Our Favorite Snacks

Hello Dear Reader!  Well it’s Wednesday.  Today my brain, Peanuts,  got a bee in its bonnet about harmful ingredients lurking in our favorite snacks after reading an article on the internet about harmful ingredients lurking in our favorite snacks.

Of course, Peanuts revised the article a little by taking out all the boring facts and replacing them with lies and fibs. And so without further adieu, let’s look at:

Harmful Ingredients Lurking in Our Favorite Snacks

BHA   BHA

This preservative is used to prevent rancidity in foods that contain oils. Unfortunately, BHA (butylated hydroxyanisole) causes . . . guess what?

Did you guess the Bubonic Plague, Dear Reader?  You did?  That’s amazing! The FDA and Peanuts are very proud of you! Give yourself a pat on the back. (But not too hard lest you start yourself coughing again.) Peanuts and the FDA say it’s probably best to stay away from BHA like the plague! Unless, of course, you enjoy having the occasional bout of Black Death in which case just tell everybody to shut up, stand back and pass the Kellogg’s Corn Flakes.

ParabensParabens

These synthetic preservatives are used to inhibit mold and yeast in food. The problem is parabens may also disrupt your body’s hormonal balance causing you to have difficulty yodeling in front of crowds of 5,000 people or more.  If your livelihood depends on your yodeling abilities, the FDA and Peanuts suggest you forgo the parabens altogether.  If, however, your yodeling is just a hobby . . .  then yodel your little odle-lay-ee-who heart out!

Partially hydro   Partially Hydrogenated Oil

Watch out for Partially Hydrogenated Oil. That’s because partially hydrogenated oil is a “trans fat” and trans fats are infamous for clogging up arteries, toilets and the works. Trans fats are different from regular fats in that if you’re standing next to someone who is eating a great big piece of cheesecake containing trans fats, all the fat will transfer from them over to you — causing you to gain five pounds.  The FDA and Peanuts recommend you stand at least 20 feet away from anyone who is eating cheesecake.

 Ice Cream   Castoreum

 Castoreum is one of the many nebulous “natural ingredients” used to flavor food. Though it isn’t harmful, it is unsettling. Castoreum is a substance made from beavers’ castor sacs, and anal scent glands. (And here you thought beavers were only good for making messy dams.)  If you get queasy easy, the FDA and Peanuts suggest you might want to forego the ice cream containing beaver castor sacs and anal scent glands and consider only eating ice cream that was made from great big gobs of green gushy gopher guts.

Funyuns

Even though Funyuns contain all of the ingredients listed above and then some, the FDA and Peanuts aren’t saying eating Funyuns will kill you, as such. Far from it. After all, everybody knows that Funyuns are the favorite snacks of world luminaries all over the world, such as Al Gore.  However, the FDA has issued a warning that ingesting Funyuns may cause Robotism or Frankenstienism in some people –mostly in people who are World Luminaries and who answer “what” when someone calls out the name “Al Gore.”

And there you have it, Dear Readers!  Next time you take a bite out of something, remember not to think about anything you just read.

Until next time . . . Peanuts and I love you (and maybe even the FDA but probably not)

My Brain Peanuts Presents: The World in a Nutshell

Welcome Dear Readers to  “The World in a Nutshell”  where my brain, Peanuts, will attempt to recreate a map of the world drawing on nothing but hearsay, vague general impressions and a third-rate education.

Today’s Map:  South America

A map of South American based entirely on my brain, Peanuts, vague impressions

A map of South American based entirely on Peanuts vague impressions

Please study the map above.  Are you done studying it?  Great!

POP QUIZ TIME!

This concludes  “The World in a Nutshell” lesson for today, Dear Readers.   Please drop in next time when Peanuts thinks up some different stuff about a different part of the world!

Until next time . . . I love you

My Five Worst Posting Fails of 2013

Welcome Dear Readers!  I have had so much fun blogging this year I can’t even tell you because I’ve already used up my entire vocabulary for the 2013.

So today we will be looking at some of the failed posts that no matter how hard me and my brain, Peanuts, tried, we just couldn’t get to work.

Failure # 1:

The Patronizing Noodle Lady

Here’s how the post started out: 

Welcome Dear Reader!  Good News!  The Patronizing Noodle Lady has decided to make a visit to the blog.

Here’s a picture of  The Patronizing Noodle Lady: 

These are Noodles!
“No!  You’re not listening. These here . . . the ones I’m touching, these long skinny things, are called noodles. And the noodles go here, where my index finger is tapping.  My index finger is the finger you would use if you wanted  to point at something. Do you know how to point at something? Or were you lying about that question on your resume?”

The Patronizing Noodle Lady, Linda Vernon Humor

Peanuts and I even drew a picture of The Patronizing Noodle Lady thinking she might become a recurring blog character.

But that’s as far as Peanuts and I got with The Patronizing Noodle Lady, and the reason is because we failed to take into account how very difficult it is to find pictures of people who are in the act of being patronizing.  So Peanuts and I abandoned The Patronizing Noodle Lady which is really what she deserves anyway, we supposed.

Failure #2

Here’s another post draft that Peanuts and I abandoned:

Welcome Dear Reader!  Good News!  Mother Goose Has Agreed to Answer Your Most Pressing Questions:  

Dear Mother Goose:

Every time I make a pie, there’s a little boy who livs do

As you can see from the work we put in, neither Peanuts nor I was really committed to “Mother Goose Answers Your Most Pressing Questions.”  I thought it would be a humor goldmine, but my brain, Peanuts, threw down the pick and shovel and  jumped into a bowl of  buttered rum, leaving me hanging. Thanks . . .hic. . . a lot Peanuts!

Failure #3

Here’s another  draft that was abandoned.  I’m blaming Peanuts entirely for this one.  It said simply:

Mrs. Ricardo, Dan Jenkins second-hand furniture man:

http://youtu.be/T2_OiFndMjU

If you were to watch this clip, you would see that this is the episode where Lucy stares at William Holden while he trying to eat his lunch.  It’s really funny and in the end she lights her clay nose on fire. Ha! Ha!

But Dan Jenkins, the used furniture, man who buys Lucy’s furniture for $90 and then sells it back to her for $125 isn’t even in this episode!  That’s why this draft is  so very strange!  As you probably guessed, Peanuts loves ‘I Love Lucy’ and always insists we watch it instead of Meet the Press.

Failure #4

Okay, here’s a  draft that needs no explanation because no explanation exists.

Off to Battle with the CaananLittle Guy Tie

The nonsequitor of  the “Off to battle with the Caanon” broken link  paired with a picture of a baby wearing a knitted tie is just the kind of thing my brain, Peanuts, comes up with when sound asleep. I’m sure my subconscious mind got a big kick out of it though.  My subconscious laughs pretty easily and at the dumbest things.

Failure #5

Here’s an abandoned draft that shows you how temperamental  my brain, Peanuts, can be.   All it said was:

Hello Dear Readers!

And then apparently Peanuts called it a day.  Well at least Peanuts didn’t have the audacity to post it . . . like I’m doing right now . . . uh oh . . . I think I hear Peanuts laughing in the recesses of my brain — where,  for my brain, Peanuts, it’s recess 24/7/365.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, it being whatever this was.

Until next time . . . we (me and Peanuts) love you

My Brain Peanuts Red Alert!!

My Brain, Peanuts, Red Alert!!!

Warning! Warning! Warning!

Errrrr! Errrrr! Errrrr!

Dear Readers, This is a 7-Points Bulletin!

If you are traveling in state of  California on freeway 101 today, anywhere between San Francisco and Los Angeles going north or south, east or west BEWARE!

Traffic may be unusually slow, possibly backed up for hours due to a Little Old Lady Granny Driver operating under the often misguided direction of her brain, Peanuts, who is going on a road trip to visit her daughter, Jackie’s family and her new grandson, Henry!

Jackie and Henry

Jackie and Henry

 

Be on the look out for and steer clear of the following:

1)

Any woman who looks old enough to receive AARP  and pre-paid cremation opportunities in her  junk mail —  and who is  traveling south (God willing, but possibly north if her brain, Peanuts,  freaks and takes the wrong exit) in a little blue car with a bumper sticker that says:  What Happens at Grandmas, Stays at Grandmas.

2)

Should you be unlucky enough to  come up behind Granny, tailgate at your own risk — as she will turn on her windshield cleaner spray (she’s not as nice as she looks) and pretend for all the world like she is simply getting the bugs off her windshield, but in reality is passively aggressively getting your windshield wet on purpose in an attempt to punish you for not driving as safely as she thinks you should.

3)

Should she suddenly slam on her brakes in the middle of the freeway, do not be alarmed, there is nothing wrong with granny’s car, it will simply mean she was listening to a CD of Herb Albert and the Tijuana brass and her brain, Peanuts, mistook one of trumpet solos for the horn of an alarmed motorist.

4)

Granny will no doubt be traveling in the slow lane, wedged between two trucks — either because she is too afraid to change lanes or because she is pretending she is in a convoy again. Probably both.

5)

If you should see this woman driving around the mean streets of some drug n’ thug neighborhood in any town between San Francisco and Los Angeles, it will not mean that Granny is trying to “score” some illegal substances.  It will simply mean that, once again, her brain, Peanuts, picked the worst possible exit to try to find a restroom.

6)

Four or five hours into the trip you may see granny pulled over to the side of the road being issued a speeding ticket. This will mean her brain, Peanuts, finally became so desensitized and bored with driving on the freeway that her brain, Peanuts, only noticed the number 88 on her speedometer when she saw the flashing red light tailgating her.

7)

Let’s just hope and pray her brain, Peanuts, had enough sense not to turn on the windshield cleaner spray!

Ny Brain Peanuts

Beware of my brain, Peanuts, behind the wheel!

Until next time . . . I love you

My Brain, Peanuts, Notices Some Little Things

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

My Brain, Peanuts, Flips Through a Magazine

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

My Brain, Peanuts, Thinks Up Some Inventions

Hello Dear Readers!  Happy Friday to you all.  I thought today might be as good a time as any to take a look at some of the inventions, my brain, Peanuts dreamed up.

The Underwater Bicycle

My brain, Peanuts, woke up one morning with this idea.  Instead of scuba divers swimming everywhere; they could explore the ocean floor by riding around on their underwater bicycles. Of course, when I told everyone about this idea they got a good laugh,  but really why wouldn’t it work?

Underwater Bicycle

Scuba Diver Riding the proposed Underwater Bicycle

The Minty Breath-o-rizer

Here’s a fantastic idea that Peanuts came up with a couple years ago.  It’s simply a breath mint that one would attached to one’s front tooth. That way the breath mint doesn’t get in the way when talking to someone, but one can still rest assured that one’s breath is clean and fresh.

a breath mint that sticks to tooth

The Minty Breath-o-rizer

A Goldfish Fishing Pole

Let’s say you go to the pet shop and buy a cute little goldfish.  You get home and set his bowl up. It’s got water, little plastic plants, maybe it’s own little house and an anchor in its little front yard.  But after about two seconds, you start getting bored.  You start thinking, where’s the fun in this?  To which the answer is absolutely nowhere.

But Dear Readers. . . what if you had a little fishing pole upon which you could attached it’s food?  You could feed your new little goldfish by pretending like you’re fishing.  Now that’s fun! I really think this is a winner of an invention, don’t you?

a fishing pole to feed goldfish with

The Goldfish Fishing Pole

The Ponytail Headlight

Don’t you hate it when the electricity goes off after dark and there’s absolutely nothing to do except stare at the candle flame?    Well, stare no more, Dear Readers!  Now sitting in the dark can be fun with The Ponytail Headlight!

Simply put your hair in a high ponytail and viola!  Let there be light!  Instead of sitting in the dark, like a bump on a log, you can now use that time to clean out your closets or straighten up your bathroom drawers or whip up a batch of raw fudge.

a ponytail holder with a headlight

The Ponytail Headlight

The Portable Fanny Pack Swing

Let’s say you’re taking your three-year-old grandson for a walk around the neighborhood when he suddenly gets bored and no longer wants to admire the various shrubbery, preferring instead to throw himself down on the sidewalk and kick and scream as a direct result of all that sugar you fed him earlier.  You try to pick him up but he simply squirms away. (The little fella’s quite an athlete!)

Anyway, that’s where the Portable Fanny Pack Swing comes in.  It’s lightweight and folds up small enough to fit into any AARP Fanny Pack.  You simply pull it out, set it up right there on the sidewalk and put your dear little fella in the swing and start pushing.  This will buy you time until you can get mommy or daddy on the phone to let them know that Fun with Grandma Time is officially over.

Artisti's rendering of portable swing

The Portable Fanny Pack Swing

And there you have it, Dear Readers!  A few inventions dreamed up by my brain, Peanuts.  You’ll have to excuse me now though as I think my brain, Peanuts, has some more inventions to dream up.  If you need me, I’ll be asleep on the couch . . .

Until next time . . . I love you

From My Brain Peanuts and The Gang!

My Brain Peanuts and The Gang Wish You A Very Very Very

This is it

Until next time . . . we love you!

My Brain Peanuts Thinks Up 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

The Story of You and Your Sediment

As you may or may not remember (depending on the severity of your last concussion) earlier this week, my brain, Peanuts, wrote a well thought out and balanced essay weighing in on the pros and cons of death.  If you missed it,  Peanuts is happy to summarize it for you as follows:

The pros and cons of death are that death sucks and there aren’t any pros. 

So today, in keeping with our “death theme”, my brain, Peanuts would like to take a few minutes of your time (or a few hours depending on how fast you read since the concussion) to discuss how growing older changes the actual “sediment” in your aging body.

 Time out for Science

But first, let’s step back a little and explain what my brain, Peanuts, means by a “sediment” in scientific terms.  Wait a minute . . . what’s that Peanuts?  Oh, sorry, Dear Reader, Peanuts doesn’t want to do that.  Ok, fine.

The Unscientific Explanation of Sediment

When you are born, your body is like a pristine glass of water with nothing in it but a teeny-weeny bit of cute, adorable sediment.

A slightly dirty glass of water

“Congratulations! It’s a glass of water!”

Another name for sediment is star stuff  which is what we are all actually made of (as the Science Channel just loves to tell us).  And since the universe has to store all this star stuff somewhere, it stores it in our bodies as sediment.

So because we are made of star stuff, naturally our newborn vessels are going to have a little bit of sediment in them.  But just a scosche . . . I’m holding up my index finger and thumb right now for emphasis — and if you could just see how close together they were, you’d say “oh Pshaw! Who cares?”

Now Let’s Fast Forward to Age 60.

OK, by now the average body has collected so much sediment, that if you were to look closely at your eyes, you’d be able to detect a very faint line about half way up your eyeball that is your Sediment Indicator Light.

At 60, your  Sediment Indicator will read “full”.  This means you are now completely full of it, when it comes to sediment and/or star stuff.

“Yup, I’m full of it alright!”

 Which means that even if you were to miraculously get down to what you weighed in high school, none of your jeans would fit like they used to– which means you wouldn’t look your hip in those new jeans, you would simply look like a scrawny 60-year-old lady or man who robbed some jeans from their granddaughter’s or grandson’s closet.  And there is absolutely nothing either you or the Science Channel can do about it.

And that, Dear Reader, is the bitter pill that needs to be swallowed on a regular basis from here on out!
Until next time  . . . .I love you anyway

P.S.  If you have any problems with any of the above, please take it up with the Science Channel.

Death on Deck

I’ve noticed lately that a lot of my writing seems to have taken on a death theme.  I don’t know whether to blame myself or my brain, Peanuts.

Maybe it’s just that Peanuts and I are getting older; and when you get to be our age, the future isn’t as wide open and expansive as it used to be.

Peanuts and I have reached the crest of the hill of life, whereupon it’s all downhill from here on out.  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the ride down that hill (in a car without any brakes) to one’s final destination (a drop off to the unknown) isn’t fun, as such.

I’m just saying that once you’re hurtling down that hill in the Death Car of Life, the scenery is going by way too fast.  Which is ironic because when you get older, you tend to want to go slower and dwell on the little details of life, like shrubbery, or the quality of the current garbage service or whether or not they overcharged you for that ham.

“Will you hurry up! You’re going to die in an hour and a half!”
“I know, but look at these shrubs!”

When you get to be Peanuts and my age, you’re Christopher Columbus looking through the para-scope and spotting West Indies only instead of spotting the West Indies you’re spotting death.

Oh sure, you’re not there yet, but Death (and/or the West Indies) is looming on the horizon as big as life!

Gulp!

What Peanuts and I usually do when we find ourselves thinking about death is try not to think about death.  And amazingly, this tactic actually works. The thought process goes something like this:

Someday I’m going to die, which means I won’t exist anymore, which means I’ll be dead which means everything I have ever done in my life and everyone and everything I have ever loved in my life will be kaput and I shall never, EVER pass this way again . . . OK, well I guess I’ll go vacuum now.

When you really think about it, death is what motivates the human race to accomplish things because when we’re really busy getting a lot stuff done, it’s a lot easier to pretend we are never going to die.

I only hope that when it’s Peanuts and my turn to be sucked through that tunnel towards the light, that everything on the other side will have lived up to the term “to die for”.

Until next time  . . . I love you

Roast in a Nutshell: The Darker Side of My Brain Peanuts Returns

Sometimes, when life hands you lemonade, you have to take that lemonade and you have to turn it back into lemons again because you’re just in that kind of a mood.  Which means, Dear Reader, that it is once again time for:

Roast in a Nutshell, the Darker Side of My Brain Peanuts

(A title that was the brainstorm of my cyberdaughter, Lizzie, at runningnakedwithscissors)

artists rendering of darkside peanuts

Today’s topic:  Dealing with people who think Peanuts is old.

Things Darkside Peanuts Should be Allowed to Do Without Any Consequences When It comes to dealing with people who think Peanuts is old.

Darkside Peanuts  should be allowed to trip clerks in the electronics department of Frys who explain something to Peanuts like Peanuts is senile and then wrap up their sales pitch by adding “this is what all our elderly customers prefer.”

Darkside Peanuts should be allowed to send sneezing powder (aka anthrax) in the return envelope of all AARP offers that are offering Peanuts one last chance to get insurance before Peanuts shrivels up and dies.

Darkside Peanuts should be allowed to pinch a tad too hard, the cheeks of teenage baggers at the grocery store who remark, while bagging Peanuts groceries, that their grandma — or even their great grandma — likes the same product Peanuts does.

Darkside Peanuts should be allowed to scribble lipstick all over the faces of dismissive twenty-something cosmetic-counter girls who imply that Peanuts looks so old there’s really nothing that can be done about it.

Darkside Peanuts should be allowed to pull the transaction box off its stand and throw it at clerks who automatically assume Peanuts is too old and too far gone with the Alzheimer’s to know to slide the card and push the green button without being told (for the millionth time . . . sigh) to do so.

Darkside Peanuts should be allowed to mess up the hairdo of clerks who take a good look at Peanuts and then suggest that Peanuts take advantage of their 55-years-and-older senior discount even though Peanuts is 55-years-and-older.

Darkside Peanuts should be allowed to yank the trendy ponytails of the girls who work at Starbucks whose words are saying, “may I help you” but whose tone is saying  Oh great! Another old lady who refuses to speak Starbucks.

Darkside Peanuts should be allowed to put Peanuts’ car in reverse and bash into the kid who is driving the car behind Peanuts who is honking at Peanuts to take a free right turn at a red light because they think Peanuts is too old and too cowardly to do so –even though Peanuts IS too old and too cowardly to do so.

Phew!  Darkside Peanuts feels much better having gotten all that off Darkside Peanuts’ shell.

Until next time . . . I love you

My Brain, Peanuts, Thinks Up Some Dubious WordPress Blog Ideas

Why hello Dear Reader and welcome to Monday morning here at the blog! 

This might be a good time to warn you that my brain, Peanuts, has been thinking again — the act of which has produced the following ideas for some dubious WordPress blogs:

My Favorite Government Documents! .com

Bureaucrats estimate that government documents now out number stars in the universe by a ratio of three to one!  And Peanuts thinks choosing my favorites among them (the most adorable) would make for a good blog.

Ah! Have you ever seen such an adorable government document?  Don’t you just want to squeeze it?

What about Lard? .com

My brain, Peanuts has high hopes for this blog!  It will encompass anything and everything about lard and lard-related products.  Readers will be invited to experience the world through the eyes of lard which should prove to be an exhilarating — if not somewhat disgusting– experience!

Soups Most People Never Tasted .com

There must be literally hundreds maybe even thousands of them! My brain, Peanuts turns to mush just thinking about all the soup out there that most people have never tasted!

Oh sure, you’ve never tasted it, but are you sure it’s never tasted you?

Your Friend, Cement! .com

Peanuts wants us to stop and think a minute about where we would all be without our dearest friend, cement . . . well, probably right in the exact same place we currently are . . . but still!

“Hey Cement, wanna get coffee later?”
“Uh . . . no.”

On a scale of one to ten, how Chapped Are Your Lips? .com

Finally a way to tell just exactly how chapped those lips of yours really are. Send pictures and Peanuts and I will post the best and the worst! Chapped lips will be judged on a sliding scale of one to ten, ten being the worst and one being the best or maybe vice versa.  Either way we are predicting success that smacks of success.

Sticks that were responsible for poking people’s eyes out!  .com

Just between you and me and Peanuts and WordPress and everybody else in the world, this idea is a little iffy, taste-wise.  Of course, there is the potential for eye patch advertisements and perhaps a lucrative manacle endorsement deal so the tastelessness might well be worth it.

Watching old parades from the 70’s on YouTube! .com

Peanuts asks:  Who doesn’t like watching parades that took place 40 years ago?

Peanuts answers:  No one!  That’s who!

“By golly, yes siree!  That IS Florence Henderson! Well, poke me with a fork!”            “Okay if you insist!”

Body parts I have yet to stub — The Forum  .com

Sure we’ve all stubbed our toe, but what body parts haven‘t we stubbed.  Are you stumped?  Good!  That means you’ll go check out the forum!

Baby Talk Book Reviews! .com

Peanuts wuvs dis idea!

“Me wead Wah and Peas.””

Wah and Pease vewy bo-wing!

Until next time . . . I love you

My Brain Peanuts Breaks Glasses Causing Immediate Nerd Transformation!

I broke my glasses because my brain, Peanuts, placed them directly underneath where my foot was supposed to go.

Peanuts and I have been wearing glasses now for 20 years due to adult onset blurriness, and you’d think my brain, Peanuts, would have figured out a way to not step on them.

But no, every once in a while Peanuts has to test me to see if I’m still paying attention (and I never am).

I don’t get it because there’s nothing Peanuts and I hate doing more than having to get new glasses.  What was Peanuts thinking?

So I got my husband, 37, to tape them back together for me, because he’s an engineer so he knows about things like that.

Except that I didnt trust his taping judgment once he was done and added more tape myself.

So now I’m officially a nerd.

I’d take a picture to show you but I think it might be too early in the morning for that. Oh what the heck, let’s live dangerously shall we?

Me in my new nerdy glasses:

Well, wait a minute . . . let me see if I can take the picture from a better angle:

Oh that’s better.  I like this of me in my nerdy glasses a little better because you can’t really see the tape all that much.

Anyway, what were we talking about?  Oh yeah, the careless behavior of my brain, Peanuts.

So now Peanuts and I will have to stumble down to the glasses store and get those nasty drops put in.  Then once we are legally blind, we will be guided out front to pick out frames from the two or three thousand styles displayed right in front of our eyes somewhere.

The conversation with the professional four-eyes care specialist will go something like this:

Me:  How do these look on me?

Her:  Oh those look good on you.

Me:  Really?  Well how about these?

Her:  Oh!!! Those look good on you!

Me.  Really?  What about these?

Her:  Oh those!!! Look good on you.

Me:  How about these?

Her:  Oh those, look!!!  Good on you!!

Me:  And these?

Her:  Oh those look good!!! On you!!

Me:   Oh but what about these?

Her:  Oh those look good on!!!  You!!!!!

Me:  Oh, yeah, what about these?

Her:  Oh those look good on you.

Of course, we all know how this story ends.  Peanuts and I will finally decide on frames, then go back to pick them up three weeks later because their motto is ready in about an hour give or take three weeks.

Me:  Are you sure these are my glasses because they look horrible and I can’t see a thing.

Her:  OH!!! THOSE!!! LOOK!!! GOOD!!! ON!!! YOU!!!

Then Peanuts and I will go home and while I’m crying my eyes out, Peanuts will be eating a 1000 grams of sugar.

Until next time . . . I love you

Poetry Barn: An Ode to My Annoying Brain, Peanuts

Well my brain, Peanuts, was really annoying this morning. (Peanuts being the nickname my brain insisted on giving itself.)  Peanuts sometimes runs amok and when that happens, all I can do is stand by and watch helplessly.

This morning Peanuts was writing fast and furiously!  Peanuts was so pleased about what was materializing on the computer screen that Peanuts was feeling confident to the point of being cocky.  This is a dangerous state of mind.  Last time Peanuts got like this it cost me and Peanuts $300.

That’s because Peanuts said we could  go 59 when the speed limit was 35.  Peanuts rationalized this decision by explaining that Peanuts didn’t see no cops so there ain’t no cops. Sometimes Peanuts insists on talking with a cheesey, fakey made up dialect. (I always have to roll my eyes.)

Anyway, sure enough  Peanuts spent all morning typing up a post that Peanuts had to stop and laugh at every five minutes.  It was really kind of nauseating how cute Peanuts thought it was being.

So it really served Peanuts right when Peanuts went to hit SAVE DRAFT and the little donut started spinning and spinning and spinning and then the Wordpress screen disappeared altogether!  Peanuts panicked and flailed around clicking buttons and icons like a regular banshee but to no avail.  The post was gone entirely.

I took it rather well, but Peanuts threw a big, huge, hissy fit by pounding fists on  the desk, and shouting the F word, then shouting the S word and then went back to shouting the F word.

Of course, this display of immaturity didn’t do Peanuts one bit of good.  I told Peanuts that in so many words, but Peanuts wasn’t listening.

So instead of posting the hilarious post that Peanuts lost us thanks to cockiness, Peanuts and I will rerun this poem entitled Ode to Peanuts.  It’s really called Ode to the Brain, but Peanuts thinks it’s about Peanuts so we’ll just let Peanuts keep on thinking that:

ODE TO My Brain Peanuts

Oh little brain

We love you so

For thinking up

The things we know

From your hemispheres

To your thalamuses

You know the times of all the buses

Your skull cap’s skewed so jauntily

You’ve hit a spinal chord with me!

And furthermore, let’s be quite placid

Because of your amino acid,

You do not sail this synapse sea

As hairy as a chimpanzee

That ought to shut Peanuts up for a while!

Until next time . . . I love you