Happy Wed-fri-nesday!

Hello Dear Readers and welcome to Wed-Fri-nesday.  I decided to make up a new day of the week because 1) it’s high time somebody did 2) the Friday Fictioneer 100-word writing challenge starts on Wednesday.

Every Wedfrinesday, Rochell Wisoff-Fields, provides a weekly picture prompt, and writers are challenged to write a 100-word story. Go here if you want to join in:  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Addicted to Purple Blog and you should!  Why?  Well, what better way to celebrate the very first Wedfrinesday?

Copyright Sarah Hall

The Doing, the Undoing and the Redoing of Sean

Sean squished a spider crawling on his prized lawn trophy with his half-emptied whiskey bottle; congratulating himself in one instant, and disgusting himself in the next – with just how low he had sunk, accomplishment-wise.

When he was riding high with two consecutive wins at the Lawnmower Blade Sharpening British Open, the money and the fame had gone to Sean’s head.

His wife left, his kids left, his dog left, and even his goldfish . . . wait . . . no!  He still had his goldfish!

Sean straightened his tie, picked up his goldfish bowl and headed into the future.

P.S. This story came in at exactly 100 words not counting the title and the 1,000 words the picture tells.

Until next time . . . I love you

The Bible According to Gregory: Awkward Moments for Moses

Welcome, Dear Readers, to this Sunday’s edition of The Bible According to Gregory.

Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday school this morning, shall we?

Awkward Moments For Moses

One beautiful biblical morning, the Lord began to saying to Moses.  “Depart and go up from here to the land of which I swore to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob  . . .”

While the Lord was talking, Moses began sighing and  picking leaves out of his sheep’s fur, secretly wishing the Lord wouldn’t always feel the need to recap the entire events of mankind before moving on to His next topic.

“. . . I will send My angel, and I will drive out the Hittites, the Canaanites and Amorites . . .”

Moses quietly opened his satchel and started nibbling on his fig sandwich.

“. . . and the Hittite, the Perizzite and the Hivite and Jebusites . . .”

While Moses was adjusting his sandals the Lord said,”Go  up to a land flowing with milk and honey  for I will not go in your midst, lest I consume you on the way, for you are a stiff-necked people.“

Say what?  Did the Lord just say he liked to consume stiff-necked people?  Well, sir, that got Moses’ attention!

” Okaaaaay . . .  ” Moses said, “but just a quick question, Lord.  By consume, You don’t by any chance mean “eat”  stiff-necked people, do you?  Moses hung his head while he asked the queston to make his neck look limper.  “I only ask because eat and consume usually mean the same thing.”

But the Lord didn’t hear Moses’ question, what with all the noisy sacrificing going on in the background.

When Moses relayed to his people, the Peoplites, about the Lords plans to relocate them to the land of Milk and Honey — but that the Lord wouldn’t be coming along personally due His, ahem,  Inappropriate Eating Problem, they mourned and took off all their ornaments. (This was way before they had Christmas trees to hang them on.)

Then the Lord told Moses exactly what to say to the Peoplites about his inappropriate eating problem.

“Say to the children of Israel, “you are a stiff-necked people, I could come up into your midst one moment and consume you. Now therefore take off your ornaments so that I may know what to do.” 

Either the stiff-necked Peoplite’s ornaments were jingling so loud the Lord couldn’t hear himself think, or the Lord wanted them to take off the ornaments as they tended to get stuck in the Lord’s Beard whenever He “consumed” stiff-necked Peoplites.

Anyway, by now the Lord and Moses were pretty close friends.  By today’s standards, they would have not only been friends on Facebook; they would have made sure to click the like button on each other’s posts.

So Moses pitched a “meeting tent” where he and the Lord could meet.   Moses sat inside the tent while the Lord appeared outside the tent as a pillar of smoke, (the Lord’s favorite avatar).

Everything was going really great, relationship-wise, until one day Moses blurted out, “Would you mind if I took a peek at your real face, Lord?

What followed was an awkward silence of epic proportions.   Finally the Lord just flat out told Moses that if he showed Moses his face Moses, Moses would die from looking at it — thither on the spot!

Talk about awkward! After that Moses didn’t know what to say and either did the Lord.

Finally the Lord just completely changed the subject. “Cut two stones and meet me up on Mt. Sinai tomorrow, Moses.”

“Sure!” Moses said, hugely relieved.  May I inquire as to why?”  Moses sat down and prepared himself for another of the  Lord’s  long, drawn-out explanation.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out” was all the Lord would say.

  Stay tune next week when Gregory retells what he  learned about the Ten Commandments in Sunday School.

Until next time . . . I love you

“No I’ve been listening, Lord. You were saying something about the Vermiculites?
“No, Moses, I was talking about the Hittites! Will you stop fooling with your sandal and listen!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Trifecta 33-Word Challenge: Little Horribella

Hello Dear Readers.  Today is the Trifecta 33-word challenge.  Today’s challenge is to incorporate  an example of onomatopoeia –words that sound like what they mean –like splash, whoosh, and yadda yadda.

 

Little Horribella 

Little Horribella pulled the string on her talking doll.

“Oink!”

Horribella whacked it and tried again.

“Ding-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling!”

“Oh this stupid doll!” Horribella lit the dynamite.

KERPOW!

“Ah! that’s more like it.” Horribella said.

Little Horribella

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

I Twitter and I Don’t Know Why

Dear Readers, I have a confession.

I twitter and I don’t know why.  In fact, speaking as a baby boomer that’s not getting any younger at an alarming rate,  I predict that  “I twitter and I don’t know why!” will be the new aging-boomer catch phrase that officially replaces,  “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

I have a feeling it all boils down to Bob Hope

Do I have any idea why I twitter?  I have tweeted 696 times. But to what purpose? To what end?  Frankly,  I suspect since I have to ask, I’m too old to be twittering (or is it tweeting?).

I think understanding Twitter is one of those generational-gap phenomenons that were so popular in back the 60′s — where we baby boomers would roll our eyes when our parents laughed at Bob Hope wearing a Beatles wig while singing, “she loves you,  yeah yeah yeah”.  Only now instead of Bob Hope, hashish and shaggy hair we’ve got Louis CK, hash tags and Friday Follow.

Hey what’s everybody talking about?  I said what’s everybody talking about?  Hello?

Twitter, for me, is like being in a group of people where everyone is laughing and talking about something — but I’m late to the conversation and I can never quite get the gist of what they are discussing.

So I just try faking it by smiling and laughing along hoping I’ll figure it out in minute. During a lull, I might ask the person next to me what everyone is talking about, and just as they are about to fill me in, somebody says something funny and the person starts laughing again and never gets back to me.

Now Just Slow Down There A Minute Sonny . . . Granny don’t go that fast!

Take this morning for instance.  I went to my twitter account and I saw that a blogger who used to have a funny WordPress blog is now a comedian.  So I tweeted a reply congratulating him and went to click out of Twitter one second later  and saw that he had  already replied to my reply.   And he has thousands of followers!  How can he go so fast?  That’s what this old lady wants to know?  (Btw, you can follow Rob https://twitter.com/MyHairyLife — maybe, I don’t know.)

And so I put it to you, Dear Readers.  Why do you tweet?  What is the purpose of tweeting?  I would love to know why I tweet from those of you young enough to understand why.

I thank you in advance, and, as a lovely parting gift for reading this far, I will leave you with a few of my  favorite tweets:

Rob ‏@imaudihere 2 Nov 11

Good friends are a lot like this can of Spam in my cupboard; always there for me, and I know I can eat them in an emergency.

Will Phillips ‏@TheThryll 30 May

Giving up on your dreams can actually be very relaxing.

Samuel Palmer ‏@deptofetc 5 Oct 11

Genius is 16% ‘G’ and 84% ‘enius’

These days George Lucas’s first film is just known as “Thanks! 1138″.

I’m trouble with a capital ‘T’. But only when I’m at the start of a sentence or a proper noun.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Until next time . . . I love you

 

Say, Speaking of Licking Honey Off Pencils . . .

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.

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:

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!

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.

“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.

“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

Brenda’s New Job Sucks

Welcome Dear Readers! It’s time for Friday Fictioneers. And the good thing is you don’t even have to have any ears to participate!

All you have to do is go to Rochelle Wisoff-FieldsAddicted to Purple and take a look at the picture (which is posted every Wednesday) and write a 100-word story about it. Link up and Viola!  Lookee you!  You’re a Friday Fictioneer!! 

Here’s this week’s picture:

icon-grill-ted-strutz

And they expected her to do this for eternity?  Seriously?  Brenda hadn’t even been a ghost for a full hour, and she was bored stiff.

Brenda swept her arm across the bar again. Everything went crashing to the floor again.  Hardly anyone one noticed, again, because the jukebox was screaming Jeremiah Was A Bullfrog again.

“It’s a ghost!” Someone shouted. “I got her picture!”

Everyone rushed over including Brenda.  Yeah, that was her alright. Everyone thought she looked spooky, but Brenda thought she looked fat.

Well, Brenda’s supervisor was coming tomorrow.   Maybe he’d reassign her somewhere better.  Like hell.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, this week’s Friday Fictioneer’s Challenge.  

Until next time . . . I love you

The Trifecta Writing Challenge: The Pliability of Nigel Cornhusker

Hello Dear Readers! It’s time for the weekly Trifecta Challenge which is to write a story using the third definition of the word:  blood: a : lifeblood; broadly : life; b : human stock or lineage; especially : royal lineage <a prince of the blood>c : relationship by descent from a common ancestor : kinship d : persons related through common descent : kindred e (1) : honorable or high birth or descent (2) : descent from parents of recognized breed or pedigree

The Pliability of Nigel Cornhusker

 The minute Sophia Loren walked through the door of the screwdriver factory and sat down at the conveyor belt on the stool next to Nigel Cornhusker was the day Nigel Cornhusker’s heretofore uneventful life popped a wheelie.

Of course, this Sophia Loren wasn’t any blood relation to the renowned Italian actress, but she had tried out for a part once in a local production of the Merchant of Venice, and she adored spaghetti.  In Nigel’s eyes, that made her every bit as good as the real Sophia Loren.

Nigel thought Sophia was a looker too.  He was smitten with her round, coquettish eyes and the adorable way one of them hovered to the side no matter which way she was looking.  Plus the fact that Sophia’s tight hairnet pushed down her considerable eyebrows to hover, caterpillar-like, just above those round, coquettish eyes of hers — and, well, it drove Nigel Cornhusker nearly wild! But it was Sophia’s sparkling vivaciousness that made Nigel Cornhusker putty in Sophia’s hands.

That’s why it was a crying shame that Sophia was married — and an even bigger crying shame that Sophia wanted Nigel Cornhusker to bump off her husband, Victorio Betropellio Pelliweenio.

Each day, while she and Nigel would sit at the conveyor belt examining yellow screwdriver handles for proper transparency, Sophia would use her sparkling vivaciousness to reel in Nigel’s affections, minute by minute, hour by hour, screwdriver handle by screwdriver handle.

Until finally one day Sophia cooed, “Say, listen, Nigel.  Why don’t you come over for a romantic spaghetti dinner?  It would be just you, me and my husband, Victorio Betropellio Pelliweenio’s dead body — once you kill him, that is.  Oh and do you prefer regular Pepsi or diet?”

* * *

Nigel Cornhusker watched the moon through the tiny window of his prison cell and imagined his beautiful Sophia beneath its milky light. “Sophia my love!” He screamed in anguish.

“Uh, I’m trying to sleep over here, Nigel!” Sophia shouted from the next cell. “Do you mind?”

The View from San Quentin

Until next time . . . I love you

Screw It Monday: More From the Slighly Creepy Seventies

Hello Dear Readers! And welcome to Screw It Monday, where we don’t do anything but flip through old magazines, scan in slightly creepy pictures and marvel about  how weird things were back in the day.  Join me won’t you as we flip through a magazine from 1975.

Welchade Grape Drink! 

As you can see this little  girl from 1975  loves  Welchade Grape Drink!  Why? Because it’s 25 percent actual juice and 75% fructose, corn syrup and sugar.

But Welches Welchade also contained fortifying Vitamin C which, when mixed with  granulated sugar,  brown sugar, cane sugar, powdered sugar, a box of sugar cubes, four pounds of honey and a large wad of cotton candy, gave it that added hint of sweetness so beloved by little-soon to-be toothless 70′s children everywhere.

And while we’re on the subject of sweets, here’s a honey of a 70′s Decorating Idea from 1975:

Because in the 70′s, there was nothing people liked better than admiring their knees in the mirror while picking out spices!

Now here’s something every 1970′s husband gave their wives when the wanted something really special:   a divorce.

“How do you like it Roberta?”
“Why Robert!  I  think its–neeiigghh!! . . , oops, excuse me, Robert, that just slipped out!.”
It’s always does, Roberta, it always does!”

Ha ha! Dear Readers, is it just me or does this 1975 ad for ear plugs look like a dog putting a whistle in a tree?

That is, if you look at it this way . . . 

“Okay . . . it’s just me, isn’t it?

Anyway, here’s a fun fact.  The only people who enjoyed themselves in the 70′s were cigarette smokers.

“Robert?”
“Yes Roberta?”
“Do you ever think it’s weird that we go to so much trouble to just sit and smoke?”
“Are you kidding, Roberta? It means we’ve got lives, baby! Lives!”

“Robert.”
“Yes Roberta.”
“Do you ever think it’s weird that we only hang out in random fields?”
“No, Roberta. it just means we’ve got lives, baby! Lives!
Well anyway, Robert,  I sure like the watch you got me for my birthday.”
“Yeah, it’s nice isn’t it, Roberta.   I bought it at Tiffanys.”

And that, Dear Reader, concludes our  1975 magazine fun for  Screw It Monday! 

Until next time . . . I love you

The Bible According to Gregory: The Lord’s Common Sense Tips for Successful Old Testament Living

Welcome, Dear Readers, to this Sunday’s edition of The Bible According to Gregory.

Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday school this morning, shall we?

The Lord’s Common Sense Tips for Successful Old Testament Living

Slavery Tips and Tricks

When purchasing a Hebrew slave, keep in mind that — even though they are less expensive–they have to be set free after six years and it’s iffy whether the slave owner gets to keep the slave’s wife and kids — so proceed cautiously.

Remember that if a Hebrew slave decides he doesn’t want to be set free after six years,  he will have to get his ear pierced by his Slave Owner.  So if you’re squeamish about performing piercings, you might want to consider purchasing a non-Hebrew slave.

If you decide to bring in a little extra income by selling your daughter into slavery, be advised that if the man who purchases her is unhappy for any reason, he is allowed to sell her back to you — providing he keeps the receipt and the original outfit she came in.

Once a father buys his daughter back he cannot turn around and re-sell her to a foreigner — even if she’s in ‘like new’ condition.

The Lord’s Advice for Raising Children

A child who hits his mother or father should be put to death as soon as possible.

A child who curses his mother or father, should be put them to death at the parents  earliest convenience.

Keep in mind, Mothers, that firstborn sons are always given to the Lord after 7 days. So don’t get too attached!  (Oh and don’t forget that the Lord always has dibs on the first-born cows and the first-born sheep as well.)

 The Lord’s Miscellaneous Household Hints

If a man kills his own slave, there is no punishment, of course, as the loss of his property is punishment enough.

If your donkey falls under its load , always help it to its feet no matter how busy your are.

Do not cook a young sheep or goat in its mother’s milk.

If a bull gores someone to death, the owner doesn’t need to be punished, simply stone the bull to death and dispose of the carcass without eating it.

Meal Planning Tips:  Lord Pleasing Outdoor Grilled Sacrifices That Almost Make Themselves 

Place an alter at the door of the lord’s tent.  In a large pottery bowl add two-pounds of fine wheat flour and one quart olive oil.  Stir thoroughly and set aside.

Next take one, one-year-old lamb and place it on the altar next to wheat mixture.

Place one quart of wine in remaining alter space.

Burn everything to a crisp making sure all the smoke goes inside the Lord’s tent.  (Always make sure the lord is in there first.)

Repeat twice a day for all time to come.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, this week’s installment of the Bible According to Gregory.  Please check in next week to seep what Gregory learned in Sunday school!
Until next time . . . I love you

33-Word Trifecta Challenge: That Tragic Extra P

Hello Dear Readers!  It’s time to get out the word shaker and shake out 33 words for this week’s 33-word Trifecta Writing Challenge.  This time we are asked to “write the origin story to the superhero of your choice in exactly 33 words.”

That Tragic Extra P

Gobbling the third meal of the day faster than a speeding bullet by age 2.

More powerful than breakfast and lunch and dinner by 20!

It’s a nerd!

It’s inane!

It’s Supperman!

The Adventures of Supperman!

* * *

Until next time . . . I love you

Casual Friday Fashions For Guys and Gals

Hello Dear Readers.  Gosh I feel like such a heel.  I just realized this blog has never taken it upon itself to discuss Casual Friday Fashions for Guys and Gals!  I felt so bad last night, I can hardly see to type this having cried my eyes out all night long   for a couple of hours  a tear from peeling onions.  Anyway, I hope these Casual Friday fashion stories won’t be too little too late.

Hey Guys! Think You Can’t Look Manly in That Hand-Knitted Cardigan Sweater on Casual Friday?  Well Think Again!

Stan and Newt.  Casual Friday Pioneers.

“Hey I got a plan, Stan.”

“Shoot Newt!”

“Let’s take our fine sweater-ed selves down to the local tavern after work while wearing our Casual Friday sweaters and order a couple of screwdrivers.”

“But what if they try to beat us up, on account of our sweaters, Stan?”

“They won’t, Newt, because we’ll tell the bartender to hold the straws.”

“Uh . . .okay, but can I bring my hard hat just in case?”

Hey Gals! Nothing says Friday Casual Fashion Quite Like the  Versatility of a Vest!

Nan and Fran.  Putting the Casualty in Casual Friday

“Say Nan.”

“Yeah Fran?”

 ”Your vest is very casual, Nan.  But mine is just a tad bit more casual.  No offense.”

“No offense taken, Fran.   Your vest is a tad bit more casual due to the fact that there’s a tad bit more of it.  No offense.”

“No offense taken, Nan. I know you eat the Twinkies out of my lunch everyday.  No offense.”

“No offense taken, Fran.  I eat your Twinkies everyday because you eat my ham sandwich everyday.  No offense.”

“No offense taken, Nan.  You want to come over and knit Casual Friday vests tonight? No offense.”

“No offense taken Fran.  Sure Fran.  No offense.”

Hey Teens! Don’t Let That L7 Mom of Yours Try To Talk You Out of Busting a Move In Those Casual Friday Rebel Puff-Painted Threads!

Brandi and Candi. Rocking Casual Friday Teen Style!

“Hey Candi?”

“Yeah Brandi?”

“I see you didn’t let you’re stupid mother keep you from rocking your Casual Friday puff-painted threads!”

“Are you kidding, Candi?  My Mom can go to H. E. Double Hockey Sticks!  I told her I wear what I want to wear, and she can’t stop me.  Besides she made this outfit for me.”

“Way to go Brandi!   My mom made mine too!   But my mom can still go to H. E. Double Hockey Sticks.”

“And how! Candi!”

And there you have it, Dear Readers, this blog’s Casual Friday Fashion for Guys and Gals.  I just hope it wasn’t too little too late.  If so, please accept my apology.  (If you need me I’ll be peeling onions.)

Until next time . . . I love you

100-Word Friday Fictioneers: The Honeymooners

Hello Dear Readers.  In keeping with the Creed of the Blogger:  Sometimes you just have to make stuff up writing-wise, it’s time for the Friday Fictioneer writing challenge where Writing-Guantlet Thrower-downer, Rochell Wisoff-Fields, provides a weekly picture prompt for which writers are challenged to write a 100-word story. Go here if you want to join in:  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Addicted to Purple Blog and you should because it’s a whole lot of fun!

Here’s This Week’s Picture Prompt:

Copyright Kent Boham

The Honeymooners

“Oh Roger! I can’t believe a week ago I didn’t even know you, and now we’re on our honeymoon.”

“Isn’t it wonderful, Juanita, my love?”

“But one tiny thing, Roger.”

“Yes?”

“My name’s not Juanita.”

“What?  Oh.  Well, I knew that . . . uh . . . Margarita?”

“That’s a drink Roger.”

“Anna Maria?”

“My dog.”

“Ha ha!  I was just teasing you . . .Hen . . . Henrietta?”

“You have no idea do you, Roger?”

“None.”

“It’s Matilda, Roger.”

“Matilda my love!  Let’s go check in.”

“Okay, and Roger?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Juanita.”

 *    *    *

Until next time . . . I love you

The Trifecta Writing Challenge: Wonderful Horrible Dottie

 Welcome Dear Readers! This weeks Trifecta Challenge is to write from 33 to 333 words using the third definition of the word, DOOR:  3: a means of access or participation : opportunity <opens new doors> <door to success>

Wonderful Horrible Dottie

I arrived at the Brown Derby early.  I didn’t want Dottie to be mad at me again.  She’d been in a foul mood since her husband, Alan Campbell, had died of an overdose — either accidentally or on purpose.  I was going with the latter because I wouldn’t have blamed him.  He probably couldn’t take another day of her viciousness.  Either way, I knew she would be drinking more than usual from that little silver flask of hers.

The head waiter greeted me. “Your table is ready, madam,” he announced, and I followed him.  He led me through the crowded restaurant like he was leading me to the Holy Grail, and in some ways I guess he was –at least when it came to the rich and famous—they punctuated every table like triple exclamation marks in a sea of commas. I tried not to gawk.

“Oh shid!” Dorothy announced when she arrived 40 minutes late as usual.

I noticed she was wearing that same dress again.  It was starting to look a little worse for the wear, but then so was Dorothy Parker.

How are you doing Dottie?” I said, while mentally running a comb through her sticky bangs.

“Are you sure you want to ask me that?” Dorothy said, screwing off the lid of her flask.  “The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.”

I often wondered if my scriptwriting career was worth befriending Dorothy.  I guess I thought she could open a Hollywood door or two, and I guess I thought she’d be fun to hang out with, but so far I’d been hugely disappointed on both counts

“I was so sorry to hear about Alan.” I said.  “Is there anything I can do?

“Yes, you can get me another husband!”

“Surely you don’t mean that, Dottie,” I said.

“Then get me a ham sandwich and hold the mayo.”  Dorothy responded instead — while smiling sweetly of course.

Wonderful Horrible Dorothy Parker
Photo credit: Wide World Photos

Until next time . . . I love you

Bizarre News from Around the World

Brazilian Man Survives Spearing Himself in the Head with a Harpoon

“Yes, I concur, doctor, that’s either a tumor or a harpoon spear. Let’s run more tests just to be sure.”

Brazilian, Bruno Coutinho, was cleaning his harpoon at home when he accidentally  speared himself through the head. The spear went into his left eye and lodged itself in the back of his cranium.   Bruno was still able to call for help, however.

When neighbors saw him they were horrified and reported that  they had only seen something like it in Brazilian movies.

Even though it took doctors ten hours to remove the spear,  they insist that Bruno’s brain function will not be anymore impeded than it already was to begin with, and that he will survive to clean his harpoon another day perhaps while watching Brazilian movies about Brazilian men accidentally spearing themselves in the head while cleaning their harpoons.

Unexploded Bomb Found in Kitchen Cupboard

“Hey guys! Wait up! I’ve got the first-aid kit!”

Henry Southhall was giving a tour of the house he just bought in Porthmadog, when he opened the kitchen cupboard to find a bomb from World War II containing 16 pounds of explosives on the shelf he had been planning to keep his glasses and coffee cups on.

Bomb disposal experts rushed the bomb to a beach nearby and discharged it where they claim it left a big crater and could be heard from two miles away — as reported by one of the of the bomb disposal experts who was a real slow poke.

“I’m glad they found it when they did. I wouldn’t have wanted it going off when I was in bed upstairs.”  Southhall declared.  Who apparently has enough difficulty sleeping as it is.

Woman Eats 2500 Calories while asleep.

Leslie Cusack round about 2 a.m.

Lesley Cusack is overweight not because she eats too much, but because she eats too much after she falls asleep every night.   Once Leslie goes out like a light, she goes right to the kitchen and gobbles down large amounts of food, and she doesn’t even know she’s doing it.

As Lesley is constantly telling people, she is powerless not to eat too much because of a genuine sleep related eating disorder which medical experts call  Sleep Related Eating Disorder. 

“I can only tell I’ve eaten anything by the remains in the morning.” Leslie recently swore on a stack of bibles and went on to explain,  “I tend to find opened tins of things or packets, and I’ve no idea whether I’ve eaten some of them cold or hot.”    Nor does Lesley have any idea whether she has enjoyed them.

The worst things Lesley is pretty sure she’s eaten while asleep are emulsion paint, Vaseline, cough syrup, raw potatoes and soap powder.  After exhaustively studying the situation, medical experts have suggested that perhaps Lesley should not store emulsion paint, Vaseline and cough syrup and soap powder in her refrigerator.

Giant Rodents on Steroids Being Sold as Poodles

Yup! They look exactly alike! EXACTLY!!

A man in Argentina who purchased two toy poodles at a discounted price found out, after a visit to the vet, that he had actually been sold two giant rodents who were pumped up on steroids and trimmed to look like poodles.

Experts are still trying to ascertain how somebody could be that dumb and are investigating whether or not the man had recently been cleaning his  harpoon.

And there you have it Dear Readers, some Bizarre News from around the World!

Until next time . . . I love you

The Bible According to Gregory: Paul Sails for Rome

Welcome, Dear Readers, to this Sunday’s edition of The Bible According to Gregory.

Let’s listen in and see what Gregory learned in Sunday school this morning, shall we?

Paul Sails for Rome

Today, our story begins just after the Apostle Paul has been released from prison in the town of Caesarea (home of the Caesarea Salad) after a little misunderstanding between Paul and some Asian Jews or perhaps they were Jewish Asians (Some scholars believe that was the crux of the misunderstanding right there).

Anyway, Julius, a Roman Centurion, and possibly founder of  Orange Julius, was to guard Paul while they sailed to Rome where Paul was to stand trial.  Julius was kind to Paul and let him drink all the Orange Julius he wanted on their voyage.

But as biblical sailing luck would have it, there soon arose a terrible storm.  So in keeping with biblical navigational law, everyone agreed that this would be a perfect time to set sail out onto the open sea, while at the same time double-checking that all the lifeboats were left safely on shore.

Paul tried to talk them all out of it, but they failed to heed his advice — even though Paul’s info came from his special ability to accurately predict weather conditions due to his apostle status with “The Big Cheese and The Little Cheese who were one in the same Cheese.”

The next thing you know, an extraordinarily strong wind kicked up — known as the North-Easter Wind — which was much worse than it sounded.

It just kept blowing and blowing and blowing so that by the next day everybody starting throwing cargo and/or up overboard. Julius even had to dump his oranges.

“No Paul!  Not my oranges!”
“Hey listen, I just threw an entire case of Cesearea Salad Dressing overboard, we all have to make sacrifices, Julius.”

But that didn’t help, so they decided to throw the ship’s cutting-edge, navigational devices overboard, which, in those days, consisted of an anchor, a sun-dial and a magical goat purported to know right from left.

Finally, they  gave up and lowered the sail and let the ship be carried off by the wind, and that’s when Paul decided it would be the perfect time to get up and make a speech starting with “I hate to say I told you so but . . . “

Before anyone could get close enough to wring Paul’s neck, he quickly explained that he had been visited by an angel of The Big Cheese who said they would lose the ship but not their lives.

After that, Paul insisted everyone have a nice meal together, which they did, except for Julius who was still pouting about his oranges.  Then they threw the rest of the wheat overboard just for kicks and giggles.

Shortly thereafter,  they spotted the shoreline of Malta, the ship broke apart, and everybody swam or kick floated to shore, and they all celebrated with the Maltan natives by partaking in a three-day fire, the biblical equivalent of a Luau.

While Paul was collecting firewood, a snake bit his hand and everyone took time out from the festivities to watch Paul die.  But not only did he not die, he felt so good he went ahead and healed everyone on the island of dysentery (er, the island of Malta of dysentery, that is).

Paul did make it a point, however,  not to drink any of the water after that.

And there you have it, Dear Readers, this week’s installment of The Bible According to Gregory.  Be sure and check back next week for more biblical adventures.

Until next time . . . I love you