Explaining Friday with Charts and Graphs

Dear Readers!  Good News!  It’s Friday here at the blog.  What does Friday mean to us?

For some of us, Friday means it’s the last day of the work week and that the next two days will be spent in pursuits of our own choosing!

On the other hand, for those of us who are off all week and who have to go to work on Saturday and Sunday then Friday means it’s actually Sunday and tomorrow isn’t really Saturday at all — it’s Monday, meaning of course, it won’t actually be Friday, in a case like that, until Sunday!

I know it sounds confusing, Dear Readers, perhaps this  helpful chart will be helpful:

Helpful Chart created by Linda Vernon

Now as you can see by this helpful chart, if it’s Sunday, and you have to go to work on Thursday, but you have four Wednesdays off in a row,  it won’t actually be Friday until Tuesday afternoon.  Or maybe it’s the other way around.  I’m alway getting those two confused.

Maybe this graph will better illustrate my point:

Graph that better illustrates my point

Graph That Will Better Illustrate My Point

There now!  Isn’t that better?   Oh, and if you look in the lower-right hand corner of the Chart That Better Illustrates My Point, you will see that Friday tolerances are not cumulative!   Wait . . . that doesn’t take into account leap year.  Oh I’m so embarrassed.  Wrong chart!

Here’s the chart I should have shown you in the first place:

The Chart I Should Have Showed You in the First Place

The Chart I Should Have Shown You in the First Place

As you can see, if you are here, and it’s Friday but you have to work on the weekend, then today is really uh . . . wait . . . okay, now even I’m getting confused.   Ha ha!  Isn’t that the way it always is on Fridays/Sundays (or possibly Wednesdays)?

Screw it,  Dear Readers!  Let’s just cut to the chase and go directly to the chart that is Self-Explanatory:

The Chart That Is Self Explanatory

The Chart That is Self Explanatory

The Chart That is Self Explanatory

I think you’ll agree, Dear Readers, that the person who came up with this chart to explain the different days of the week as they pertain to Fridays is a self-explanatory genius!  After all, it’s not every mind that can boil down a complicated “Friday” concept to  simple spleens, elbows and inner thys.

But just in case, you are still a little confused about whether it’s Friday, Sunday or next Tuesday, I’m pulling out the stops and throwing in a picture just to be on the safe side.  But not just any picture.  I am throwing in a picture that tells a thousand words.

A Picture That Tells a Thousand Words

The Picture That Tells a Thousand Words.

A Picture That Tells a Thousand Words

And there you have it, Dear Readers!  There’s really nothing left to say about Friday, Monday or any other day of the week as far as I’m concerned.

Have a great weekend!

Until next time . . . I love you

R.I.P Lenny Xavier, A Star Player in the Linda Vernon Electronics Team

Dear Readers.  Bad News!  The star player in my Linda Vernon Electronics Team, my desktop computer, Lenny Xavier went mad and had to be unplugged.

There were signs but I chose not to see them

There have been signs.  I won’t go into the ugly particulars, but I didn’t take them seriously.  You see, Lenny Xavier had a tendency to be a bit of a  hypochondriac. He was always  worrying about  his updates, and he was always going off-line at slightest provocation to restart.   And god only knows what Lenny was doing while he was restarting.  (I suspect a serious electronic- cigarette addiction.)

As with any hypochondriac, one tends to quit listening after a while.   Life goes on no matter how many viruses  Lenny Xavier worried himself into a state of hysteria imagining he had.

Today Lenny Xavier went beeping mad!

Today, Dear Readers, Lenny completely lost it and just started beeping and beeping and beeping and beeping!  (If Lenny  had hands I suspect  he would have also been doing that lip strumming thing too if he had lips.)

I tried to calm him down by pushing control alt delete repeatedly and swearing at him but he just kept beeping and beeping and beeping.  Dear Readers it was ever so horrifying and ever so traumatizing and ever so annoying.

I had no choice!

I had no choice but  to unplug Lenny Xavier from his life support.   Don’t look at my blog like that!  I had too!  It’s not like I shot Old Yeller! (Almost but not quite).  

I  just gently unplugged Lenny Xavier from life support, that’s all.  After all, this time he could  have really had that  rabies virus he was always thinking he had.

And I swear he was on the verge of biting met too!  I could tell by the way his motor was growling!

You’re probably wondering how I’m typing this right now.  Call me mercenary (mercy for short), but I planned for this day  by asking for a laptop computer from my husband, 37, for Christmas this year!  I knew he’d get me one too because 37 can never resist an excuse to go to Fryes to purchase things that plug in.

Enter Delores

My new little laptop, Delores, is just a pup but so far she’s a real trooper and can be counted on in an emergency such as this one.  I haven’t told  Delores yet about what happened to Lenny Xavier.   I may have to download When Bad Things Happen to Good Computers first  to soften the blow  — but I’m sure she’ll rally (especially when she realizes that she, too, has a plug.)

Of course, I have no intention of running  right out and replacing poor dear Lenny Xavier this morning.  Naturally I’ll wait  a respectable amount of time.

I figure somewhere around  2 p.m. should do it.

R.I.P Lenny Xavier 2007 -2014

R.I.P Lenny Xavier
At least he died doing something he loved, beeping.

Until next time . . . I love you

Take the Very First Linda Vernon Humor Poll

Here’s something this blog’s never done before.  A poll!  I’m not sure how to do it, Dear Readers, but I’m willing to give it the ol’ half-hearted, Linda Vernon college drop out try!!

Okay I’m looking around my desk for something to take a poll about.  Oh here’s something:

This man is . . . 

Linda Vernon Humor Quiz

Hey that was fun.  Let’s do another one, wanna?

This man is . . . .

Cheesey ad for flab

And these men are . . . 

Two men doing marshal arts

And, finally, this man is . . . 

man with perfect confidence

And there you have it, Dear Readers!  I hope you had fun taking this blog’s very first poll! Now to celebrate!  Let’s all go find that banana and eat it shall we?

Until next time . . . I love you, are you kidding?  Don’t make me laugh!

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:


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

The Lighter Side of Gangrene

Dear Readers!  Where is the time going?  I get up, I have my coffee and viola! Noon!

Today I’m only posting  this little limerick from the archives!  Please enjoy it! (I’ll feel guilty if you don’t!)


There once was a girl named Doreen

Who was as tall as a mutant string bean

Even when kneeling

Her head hit the ceiling

And now both her ears have gangrene

Until next time . . . I love you

Picture-less-ly Yours

Welcome Dear Readers!   Thank you for coming. I apologize in advance for the fact that this will be a picture-less blog.

So I will try to paint pictures for you using my vast command of the English language if you can call three verbs, a semi-colon and a non-dangling participle a “vast command.”

This blog is picture-less because I am writing it on my beloved Ipad. I love my Ipad but I don’t know how to get pictures into a blog using it.  It’s not that I don’t like reading instructions it’s just that . . . wait a minute . . . yes it is.

Okay, here’s where I would insert a picture of a lady with her eyeballs rolled up and her tongue sticking out to one side wearing a little cap tipped askew on the opposite side as her tongue is sticking out and with her index finger on her chin. The caption would read:

“Uh oh did somebody say instructions?”

You can just imagine how funny that would be. And if you can’t I suggest you take you’re imagination to the nearest Imagination Store and get it tuned up!

Okay, here’s where I would really make the last paragraph a zinger by inserting a picture of a lady with her eyeballs rolled up and her tongue sticking out to one side while wearing a little cap tipped askew on the opposite side as her tongue is sticking out and walking into a store of some kind. The caption would read:

“Uh oh . . . did somebody say imagination tune-ups?”

Well, you can just imagine how hilarious this would have been had I been able to figure out how to work my Ipad. It would have been off-the-charts funny!

Okay, this is where I would have inserted a picture of a chart where a line went squiggly for awhile and then went straight up past the chart itself and into the margin above it.  

I can’t stop laughing just thinking about it!

Until next time . . . I love you

Screw It Monday: Pictures of Stuff on My Desk

The Bored Family

Welcome, Dear Readers.  Do you ever wake up in “one of those moods”  where the whole world is just one big ball of bleh?  

Well, this blog is officially announcing a new holiday.

National Bleh Day!  

And in honor of National Bleh Day, let’s do something bleh by taking stupid pictures of the stuff on our desks.  Here, I’ll get us started:

desk 1

Bleh doesn’t really get any more Bleh than this. The centerpiece of this picture is the spoon I ate my cereal with. I don’t know what happened to the bowl. I think I might have accidentally eaten it. How does it fee to eat a bowl?  Frankly, I don’t even remember it.

Here's the Old Fogey cereal that was in the bowl I ate.  It's got fiber and 80 calories so I ate four (4) bowls which probably means I ate the same amount of calories and sugar as two maple bars.  Why didn't I just eat Maple Bars instead?  Because today is National Bleh day.  And what better way to Bleh Out!

Here’s the Old-Fogey cereal that was in the bowl I ate. It’s got fiber and 80 calories so I ate four (4) bowls which probably means I ate the same amount of calories and sugar as two maple bars. Why didn’t I just eat two Maple Bars instead? Because today is National Bleh Day which I am beginning to hate already.

Here's a notebook I've had in my desk drawer for probably 6 years.  Just judging from this note I made myself, you can kind of see why I'm always missing appointments and why I'm not a millionaire.  I start to doodling half-way through every note rendering every note I've ever made totally useless.  Frankly that's one of the reasons I've started National Bleh Day.  So I can finally get some use out of all this pointless stuff I have/

Here’s a notebook I’ve had in my desk drawer for probably 6 years. Just judging from this note I made myself, you can kind of see why I’m always missing appointments and why I’m not a millionaire. I start  doodling half-way through every note rendering it totally useless. Frankly, that’s one of the reasons I’ve started National Bleh Day. So I can finally get some use out of all this pointless stuff I have. ( I would have turned this vertically so you could read it better, but what with it being National Bleh Day, why bother?)

How much more uninspiring can this picture get?  The answer is none more inspiring

How much more  Bleh can this picture get? The answer is none more Bleh.  I probably went to too much work for this picture as it is.   Anyway, that pen is the pen I sometimes use when I need to write something with a pen.  The nail polish I have on right now (see below).  That’s my coffee in the background (it’s cold).  And that little green block is something I bought one time.  Why?  

Okay, here's what the nail polish looks like on my fingernails.  I know they kind of look like my toes, but their not.  My toes are shorter and fatter.  I kind of like clear nail polish because when it chips off, you don't really notice.  Who do I even bother with the clear?  Well, it's the kind of thing one contemplates on National Bleh Day.

Okay, here’s what the nail polish looks like on my fingernails. I know they kind of look like my toes, but they’re not.  My toes are shorter and fatter. I kind of like clear nail polish because when it chips off, you don’t really notice.
But then you have to ask yourself, if you can’t tell if it’s chipped, it probably doesn’t show enough to even bother with.
I don’t’ know whether to put a question mark after the above sentence because I can’t tell if it’s a question or not.
See this is the kind of stuff discussed on National Bleh Day.  Aren’t you glad I started National Bleh Day? No? Me neither. (Wait . . . did  I just agree or disagree with myself?)

Oh hey!  Here's an old piece of candy I found in my desk.  It looks old.  It looks like it would taste pretty Bleh.

Oh hey! Here’s a piece of candy I found in my desk. It looks old.  It looks like it would taste pretty Bleh.  Let’s find out shall we?

Yup I was right.  It does taste Bleh.  Probably because I think it's been in my desk drawer since 2012.  Of course, that doesn't stop me from eating the whole stale piece.  Why?  Because that's what people do on National Bleh Day.

Yup I was right. It does taste pretty Bleh. Probably because I think it’s been in my desk drawer since 2009. Of course, that won’t  stop me from eating the whole stale piece. Why? Because that’s what people do on National Bleh Day.

And there you have it, Dear Reader, our very first celebration of National Bleh Day.  I hope your day will be as bland, and mediocre and uneventful  as is humanly possible on, this, our very first National Bleh Day!

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

I Hate My Linda Vernon Electronic Device Team

Hello Dear Readers!

Welcome to Friday where, if you happen to be in prison, you get to make a big, fat, red X on your prison calendar over today’s date — which has got to be the funnest thing there is to do in prison, don’t you agree?

I’m in Total Wing-It Mode

I’m totally winging it today, Dear Readers.  I don’t have any plan in mind for this post.  Well, yes, I did have a plan in mind when I first sat down at the computer an hour ago.

I was going to show you a picture of my broken glasses. (I broke my glasses).  Okay, a picture of my broken glasses is not the most fascinating thing to look at, sure, even if you are in prison, but at least it was a plan.

There’s Nothing Wrong with My Computer That a Little Murdering Wouldn’t Fix

Unfortunately I couldn’t get my Linda Vernon Electronic Device Team (LVEDT) to cooperate with me.  Try as I might, I couldn’t get the picture of my broken glasses I took on my Iphone to go to my email.

Oh sure, part of my LVEDT malfunction problems could be that I’ve never taken the time to actually learn how to operate them properly.  Unless one was charitable enough to call process of elimination button pushing “operating”. (But, of course, one probably isn’t that charitable, which is probably why one is in prison right now.)

You call that an instruction?

Part of the problem is I don’t like following instruction.  Nobody ever makes instructions fun to read.  What I want to know is who is telling me the instructions and what is motivating them to do so?  Do they live alone?  Do they have a family?  Have they ever seen a UFO? What about their drinking problem?

I mean, if there was just a tad bit more drama incorporated into instructions, I can honestly say that right now I would know how to properly operate my entire Linda Vernon Electronic Device Team and would probably be having drinks with the instruction writers right now. (Unless they were in prison.)

Buttons Buttons Everywhere

My problem is that every time I need to do something of an electronic-device nature, instead of reading the instructions, I simply launch into a fit of random clicking, selecting, resetting, yelling, unplugging, replugging, swearing, repeatedly pushing the on/off button, screaming (if the window is shut) and finally, when all else fails, damning them all to hell.

Let’s take a Post Break for a second:  Wouldn’t it be cool if you could reset your Ipad by turning it upside down and shaking it like an etch-a-sketch?  Okay now back to what we/I was talking about.

Anyway, Dear Readers, I fear I am turning into The Mommy Dearest of my Linda Vernon Electronic Device Team.

Time for another break from this post:  Maybe I should beat them all with a wire hanger!

But seriously, Dear Readers,  if my electronic devices should ever figure out how to write a tell-all book about me, I am completely screwed.

In fact, I’d probably be making a great big, fat, red X on my prison calendar right now, just like you are Dear Readers!

But hey!  Have a great weekend anyway!

Until next time . . . I love you

P.S. I promise to send you a cake with a file in it just as soon as I can get my Linda Vernon Electronic Device Team to uphold their iffy “send” claim.

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.

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


A Visit from The Limerick Lady!

Dear Readers!  You’ll never guess who stumbled by the blog today! None other than The Limerick Lady, and she’s a limerick writing fool if ever there was one! 

A picture of a lady with a bird on her shoulder horribly drawn

The Limerick Lady

Apparently she’s been out visiting blogs and has taken the liberty of writing a few limericks starring some of our most beloved bloggers from around the blogosphere!  Lets take a peek, shall we?

A Gripping Life’s written by Grippie

Who got dressed up to look really zippy

She then went to see

Kinks- You Really Got Me

And got kissed by a Kink on the Lippy!


There once was an artist named  Mark

Who wore Zoot Suits while drawing his art

His courtroom depictions

Are bought with subscriptions

Cuz he’s not only funny; he’s smart!


There once was a beatnik named Guapo

Whose vivaciousness never did stop-o

His rhyming harangues

Require tshhhhhh bangs

And for cheesesteak? He’ll get stopped by a Cop-o


Whenever your day’s going bad

And about up to here you have had

There is wisdom galore

In Zendictive’s blog drawer

So dash over . . . before you go mad!


There once was a girl named Diane

Who hailed from a mighty big clan

Her depression was cured

When she prayed and God heard

Now her blog — its got many a fan!


There once was a girl who loved pink

And her blog, it makes all of us think

Each day in her journal

There’s more than a kernel

Of wisdom from which we can drink!


There once was a single mom Lizzie

Whose creativity made us all dizzy

She not only writes

But her art?  It delights!

And her kids!  Oh boy!  Keep her busy!


There once was a blogger, Adair

Who gave us a breath of fresh air

With her kitty called DC

And her fruitcaking Aunt Lee

It’s a blog like a chocolate eclair!


Dianne is a writer of wonder

Whose home on this globe is down under

Whether eggs on her ceiling

Or from pythons she’s reeling

It’s no wonder her publishers fund her!


Bucky she is the adopter

Of a snake and a dog , she’s their proctor

She’s been known to write

At a very great height

Cause her husband . . . well,  he flies a copter

And there you have it Dear Readers, a visit from The Limerick Lady.  And be careful now, as you never know when The Limerick Lady is going to stop by your blog . . .

Until next time . . . I love you

Linda’s 33 Easy Steps to Writing a Killer Blog Post

Blog picture in pastels

Linda’s 33 Easy Steps to Writing a Killer Blog Post

1.    Pour one cup coffee

2.    Sit down to computer.

3.    Sip coffee.

4.    Spit coffee back into cup; return to kitchen

5.    Discover coffee maker broken.

6.    Locate someone to blame, if possible.

7.    Return to computer

8.    Stare at tree out window

9.    If no tree out window, take trip to nearest garden supply store

10.   Purchase sapling, return home, plant sapling outside window.

11.    Resume staring out window into space tree will occupy in three to five years

12.    Return to kitchen for danish

13.    If no danish available, graham cracker may be substituted.

14.    If no graham cracker available, soda crackers or  Ritz cracker can be voted upon.

15.    If no voters are present, a blindfold may be used to cover eyes

16.    Cover eyes; pick box.

17.    Remove blindfold

18.    Discover you picked soda crackers

19.    Realize you wanted Ritz Crackers

20.    Put blindfold back on.

21.    Pick one

22.    Repeat until box of Ritz Crackers is chosen

23.    Return to desk

24.    Eat entire box of Ritz Crackers

25.    Locate can of air to blow Ritz Cracker crumbs off  keyboard and face

26.    Spin clockwise in desk chair

27.    Spin counter-clockwise in desk chair

28.    Take trip to nearest drug store

29.    Purchase Pepto Bismal

30.    Return home; take Pepto Bismal

31.    Lie down on couch

32.    Fall asleep; wake up; return to computer

33.    Reblog post from yesterday

And there you have it Dear Readers, Linda’s 33 easy steps to writing a killer blog post! 

Until next time . . . I love you

It’s Time to Take the 2013 Cockamamie Pledge

Hello Dear Readers and welcome to the brand spanking new year of 2013!  Can you believe how lucky we are getting to spend all our time in a future that only yesterday was nothing but a gleam in the calendar’s eye?

Here are some of the things My Brain Peanuts is just finding out it has planned for the new year:

Taking All the Stops Out and Going For the Certificate!

This year this blog is going to shoot for a perfect attendance award.  My goal is to write every day of the year.  (And so far so good!)

When I run out of ideas on January 2, I plan to incorporate some daily prompts from this book:

Write Every Day, A Year of Daily Writing Prompts

Warning: It  doesn’t have much of a plot.

A Thorough Going Over

I also plan to spruce up the appearance this blog by fooling around with some chemicals and other explosives in the WordPress Dashboard.  (If this blog suddenly disappears or if I suddenly disappear, be a lamb and give my regards to Broadway.)

And Now Dear Readers, it’s time to take:

The 2013 Cockamamie Pledge 

Raise your right hand, or whatever’s handy, and repeat after me:

I, insert your name here, do solemnly swear on a stack of vintage cookbooks, that I promise to never take anything I read on this blog as the gospel even if it claims to be the gospel as in The Bible According to Gregory.


Gregory from bible stories according to Gregory

Poor kid’s a little mixed up.

I, insert your name here, do solemnly swear that I will never shop at Pottery Barn unless accidentally transported by a hurricane to the PB cashier counter along with a thousand dollar bills and, in the confusion, accidentally pay for a set of $999 wooden salad tongs hewn from Pottery Barn sustainable forest trees.

wooden salad tongs from Pottery Barn

Pottery Barn wooden Tongs accidentally purchased during a hurricane. Whops!  Well at least they’re sustainable!

I, insert your name here, promise to believe with all my heart and soul that Al Gore invented the internet and that he is hopelessly addicted to Funyuns.

Our Beloved Al

Al Gore holding Funyungs

“I, Al Gore, am comprised mainly of Funyuns, yet I still managed to invent the internet!”

I, insert your name here, promise to suspend my disbelief while reading all stories on this blog no matter how ridiculous the scenario, how preposterous the character’s names and how hastily and horribly they are drawn.

Carlotta Con Carnie

Carlotta Con Carnie Linda Vernon humor

Just ignore the horses.

I, insert your name here, promise never to attempt to eat any foods featured on this blog from old cookbooks found at the thrift store under penalty of death by gagging.

Stay Away From the Gagaliciousness

inedible pie Linda Vernon Humor

“Careful! She’s gonna blow!”

I, insert your name here, promise to dedicate a few seconds this year to helping out with this blogs continuing effort of Trying to Cheer Up Edgar Allan Poe.


"Once upon a midnight dreary yadda yadda yadda . . ."

“Who cares if it’s 2013, Midnight’s still gonna be dreary!”

I, insert your name here, promise not to aggravate The Drawing Lady while she’s trying to teach us how to draw, no matter how tempted I, insert your name here, am.

The Drawing Lady

The Drawing Lady, Linda Vernon Humor

“Don’t make me jump out the window!”

I, insert your name here, promise not to notice any typos or misspellings and the fact that this blog has absolutely no idea what it is talking about so help me, insert your name here.

Thank you so much Dear Readers for taking The 2013 Cockamamie Pledge! And I promise I won’t hold you to it . . . much!

Wishing All of You the Best Possible 2013!! (even Al Gore and Pottery Barn)

Until next time . . . I love you

Seven Ways to Tell If You Suffer From Too Much Blogging

Hello Dear Readers!    In the words of the wise and wonderful Lucy Ricardo after drinking too much Vitameatavegamin:


“Are you tired, rundown, listless?  Do you pop out at parties?  Are you unpoopular?”

Well, the answer to all your problems might be that you’re low on Vitameatavegamin; then again — it might be that you are simply exhausted from too much blogging.


Seven Ways to Tell If You’re Tired, Rundown and Listless From Too Much Blogging

You’re insurance rates have gone sky high ever since you got a little mixed up from fatigue and added a new post to your car’s dashboard.

"Well if it's any consolation at least I remembered to Save Draft.

“Well if it’s any consolation, at least I remembered to Save Draft.

You instructed your hairdresser to change your personal settings and give you a new theme.

Are you sure Mimbo Pro is going to look okay with my general settings?

“Are you sure Mimbo Pro is going to look okay with my general settings?”
“Well, we’ll find out!”

You got a little bent out of shape when your house guests left and didn’t nominate you for an award.

Yeah . . .bye . . . come again . . . NOT!

Yeah . . .bye . . . come again . . . NOT!

You try to leave comments on your ATM machine.

I am now telling the computer exactly what it can do with a lifetime supply of chocolate . . .

I am now telling the computer exactly what it can do with a lifetime supply of chocolate . . .

You can’t understand why the postman keeps bringing you mail of people you’re not even following.

Yeah,it says right here, "To Betty and Barnie Shlubbs" from AARP.""What in tarnation?  I would never follow AARP!"

Yeah,it says right here, “To Betty and Barnie Shlubbs” from AARP.”
“What in tarnation? We would never follow them!”

You try to count how many drivers look over at you in traffic so you can feel like you’re getting  a lot of traffic views.

Okay, let's see . . . the guy in the blue truck makes four and oh oh . . . the two people in that yellow Kia just looked over . . .

Okay, let’s see . . . the guy in the blue truck makes four and oh oh . . . the two people in that yellow Kia just looked over . . .

You’re the only one at the movies who, instead of laughing,  is shouting out the letters L O L.

L O frigging L!

L O frigging L! Gosh I’m having a good time!

And there you have it Dear Readers!  If  you recognized yourself in any of the above scenarios, you might want to go right out and buy yourself a great big bottle of Vitameatavegamin.   That’s Vita Meata Vegamin!  Because, as everybody knows, it’s the answer to all your problems!

It's so tasty too!

It’s so tasty too!

Until next time . . . I love you (and Lucy)

A Little Friday Fun With Al Gore!

Hello Dear Readers!  Well, we made it through another breakneck week in the wild, wild blogosphere! 

It wasn’t easy.  Different combinations of the alphabet were flying at us from all directions.  We had to carefully navigate through a sea of punctuation, while at the same time, we had to keep from getting pierced by some really good points!  But, of course, there’s nothing us Jolly Bloggers like better!

So here’s a little Friday Fun I hope you’ll enjoy!  It was brought to you by none other than:

Our Beloved Al

Until next time  . . .  I love you