11 Ways to Tell If You’re Spending Too Much Time with Your Horse

When someone asks you your age, you respond by stomping one foot the appropriate number of times.

" . . . 37, 38, 39, 40  . . . " "Okay, Okay, you know what?  I don't even care anymore."

37, 38, 39, 40 . . . 
“Okay, Okay, you know what? I don’t even care anymore.”

Instead of using a mirror, you’ve taken to applying your makeup in the reflection of your horse’s eye.

You're going to wear that much blush, seriously?

You’re going to wear that much blush, seriously?

You think the best thing anybody could ever do is bale on you!

“What? For moi? THANK YOU!”

You often miss work due to coming up lame.

No I didn't say I can't come to work because I'm lame.  I can't come in because I came up lame.  What's that? Yes, there's a difference!

No I didn’t say I can’t come in because I’m so lame. I said I can’t come in because I came UP lame. What’s that? Yes, there’s a difference!

Sometimes you secretly want to bite your hairdresser when she’s brushing your hair.

I could so totally bite her right now.

All your shopping trips are reduced to the same question: Where can I find the carrots?

"Did you find everything you were looking for?" "Yeah pretty much."

“Did you find everything you were looking for?”
“Yeah pretty much.”

You’ve taken to nailing your shoes on too!

“Oh yeah they hurt . . . but they won’t come off!”

The term branding has taken on a whole new meaning (and it’s something you’re seriously considering).

“No wait!  I said I’m just considering it!

You want with all your heart for two plus two to equus four.

Anyone? Anyone?

“2 + 2 equus . . . Anyone? Anyone?”

If startled; you’ve been known to start a stampede.

“What was that noise?  I’m getting out of here!”
“Me too!”
“Me too!”
“Me too!”
“Me too!”

And finally:

You’re thinking about changing your business cards from entrepreneur to entremanure.

“Yes, may I please speak to the Entremanure?”

 

Until next time . . . I love you

Lady MacBlump’s Peculiar Love

Lady Mildred Madonna Anita MacBlump

Wasn’t fat nor obese, she was pleasingly plump

 

She pined for Lord Luther Wisconsin Parcheesie

He was thin as a rail and always uneasy

 

Now Mildred MacBlump, she liked eating vermilion

And soft ice cream cones, it would seem, by the million

 

Whenever Lord Luther Wisconsin Parcheesie

Laid eyes on the sight of ice cream he got queasy

 

Lord Luther Wisconsin asked Mildred to marry

She asked him, “But aren’t you allergic to dairy?”

 

But Lord Luther Wisconsin Parcheesie replied,

“Of course not Dear Lady!” (he quite blatantly lied)

 

And so Luther and Mildred were quickly conjoined

And ate steak after steak at the wedding (sirloined)

 

How much they enjoyed their wedded-bliss dream!

Until someone suggested they serve some ice cream

 

In the end, all it took was the smallest of bites

To extinguish Lord Luther Parcheesie’s night lights

 

And so Mildred MacBlump she just stiffened her lip

And heroically finished her Mint Chocolate Chip

Lord Luther Wisconsin Parcheesie and Lady Mildred Anita Madonna MacBlump

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flipping Through The Slightly-Creepy Seventies

Welcome Dear Readers!  Today, if you’re not feeling a little nauseous already, I thought it might be fun to flip through this House Beautiful Magazine from everyone’s favorite icky decade:  The Slightly Creepy Seventies!

House Beautiful 1975

Isn’t this bedroom eye-crossingly wonderful? But it needs something more, don’t you think?  To really give it that Slightly Creepy Seventies flair? Like a focal point of some kind . . . 

But what kind of a focal point?  Hm. . . .

img228

Okay! That’s what the Slightly Creepy Seventies is talking about! Because there’s nothing like the addition of a weird, eerie male bedspread model to give any 70’s decor that much needed splash of slightly creepy!

Now let’s turn to the next page shall we?  Ready?  (I’ll wait if you want to pop a Pepto Bismal.)

Overly Cheerful Family Room slightly creepy seventies

Whoa! Obviously, the Slightly Creepy Seventies had the highest tolerance for decorative cheerfulness than all the other decades put together.

Now, this room is a good example of what happened back in the 70’s when your Slightly-Creepy Seventies Interior Decorator scarfed down a big bowl of yellow chrysanthemums and washed it down with a great big pitcher of ice-cold LSD for breakfast and then rushed over and redecorated your family room while in the throws of a cheerfulness overdose.

Actually, Cheerfulness Overdose was a common problem in the Slightly Creepy Seventies.  In fact, more interior decorators were buried with huge grins on their faces in the Slightly Creepy Seventies than any other decade in history!

So I guess you could say there’s an upside to everything.

Hey!  Look what awaits us on the next page . . . 

img232

  Yes, you’re seeing that correctly.  It’s a rocking chair on the beach. And why not?  After all, life in the Slightly Creepy Seventies was stranger than it’s ever been before or since.

And speaking of rocking chairs on the beach, I think I vaguely remember a Brady Bunch Episode involving a rocking chair/beach incident: I’ll try to retell it as best I can from memory:

Mike Brady: MarshaMarshaMarsha!  Peter! Greg! Cindy! and Whatever the rest of your names are!  We’ve driven 87 hours and we are finally at the beach!

MarshaMarshMarsha:  But Dad, we live somewhere in LA.  Why did it take us 87 hours to get here?  The Pacific Ocean is just down the street.

Mike Brady:  What? 

Carol Brady:  Oh Mike, you did it again. Hahahahahaha!  You turned left when you should have turned right!  Hahahahaha! We’re not at the Pacific Ocean, children, we’re at the Atlantic Ocean! Hahahahahaha!

Mike Brady:  Hahahahahahahahahaha!

Alice:  Hahahahahaha!  I’ll lug the rocking chair down to the beach while you Bradys wait in the car and laugh.

Carol Brady:  Hahahhahaha—

Alice:  Wait a minute!  Hold the landphone! The rocking chair’s not here!  Somebody forgot it!  I’m not one to point fingers but I think it was MarshaMarshaMarsha.

Mike Brady:  Well, kids, it looks like we’re turning around and driving 87 hours home to get it.  Hahahhahaha.

Carol Brady:  But wait Mike, you left MarshaMarshaMarsha at the Atlantic Ocean.

Mike Brady:  Hahahahhahahaha!

Carol Brady:  Hahahahahahaha!

Say now, this next item looks interesting. 

img235

Her name was Betty Knowles and she lost 4 pounds and 6 inches off her waist in only eight days back in the Slightly Creepy Seventies using this lever and pulley exercise contraption. Unfortunately, once  Betty got it all set up and herself situated inside of it, she could never figure out how to get out.   Eight days later Betty was not only  much, much slimmer, but also, she wasn’t wasting valuable time breathing or having a pulse anymore. Unfortunately she wasn’t found until last week about a quarter to five.

Sure, it was a sad Slightly Creepy Seventies demise for poor Betty Knowles, but the good news is she has been chosen as the main attraction at the Smithsonian Institute’s much anticipated upcoming exhibit:  Mummified Peoples of the Slightly Creepy Seventies.

Proving once again there’s an upside to everything!

Well, Dear Readers, that’s it for today.  If you need me I’ll be down at the Pacific Ocean.  I’ll be the one sitting in the rocking chair eating a big bowl of yellow chrysanthemums.

Until next time . . . I love you

Irena Delphina Hot Diggity Dog

 

Irena Delphina Hot Diggity DogIrena Delphina Hot Diggity Dog

In the parlance of engines was merely a cog

 

In the gearshift of life she was quite unexciting

(She had nothing to do with, say, spark plugs igniting)

 

Her job was more blah, more boring, more simple

She was put on this earth to showcase her dimple

 

And stand on her tiptoes with arms stretched apart

While posing for drawings of horrible art

 

Oh if only the artist could draw her an ocean

She’d sit by the sea and imagine the motion

 

Or maybe the artist could draw her Mt. Zion

She could hike to the top with a leash on a lion

 

Is it any surprise that Irena’s not pompous

When the drawings of her are so catty and wampus?

 

Is it safe to assume that she’ll never be seen

Staring up from the pages of Vogue magazine?

 

Poor Irena Delphina Hot Diggity Dog

She’s destined forever to live in this blog

Gregory’s Bible Stories: I, Platypus

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today Gregory learned about when God had Adam name all the animals.

Let’s listen in as Gregory tells us how it all happened.

gregoryI, Platypus

It was the very first Tuesday right after God had created Adam but just before He created Eve. God took some soil from the ground and formed all the animals and all the birds. Then He showed them to Adam.

Adam:  What’s all this?

God:  I just created all these animals and all these birds. Now I’d like you to think of names for each of them.

Adam:  But there’s so many!

God:  Yup, 1,589,361 to be exact.

Adam:  Okay let me get this straight.  You want me to cultivate the Garden of Eden and guard it plus think up 1,589,361 different animal names for all these animals you created? Not only am I only human, God, don’t forget I am the only human!

God:  LOL

Adam:  What does that mean?

God:  It’s an acronym that means laughing out loud.

Adam:  What’s laughing?

God:  Laughing. That’s  hard to explain.  Well here . . .take a look at this animal, it pretty much sums up my sense of humor.

God has a platypus on a leash and hands the leash to Adam.

Adam:  Awesome!  Fur, a bill, webbed feet!

God:  Yeah it’s venomous too which most people don’t know.

Adam:   Most people?

God:  Sorry, I got ahead of myself.  So what would you like to name it, Adam?

Adam:  How about a glerk or a floob?

God: Meh . . .

Adam:    Oh I know!  How about a  tittlefuzzwamper!

God:  Okay I like the direction you’re going in now.

Adam:  Octopus?

God: You’re getting warmer.

Adam:  Snickerdoodle . . .

God:  Keep thinkin’

Adam:  A platypus?

God:  Bingo! Good thinking Adam!

Adam:  This is fun!  What’s the next animal you want me to name?

God:  How about this one?  As you can see, it has two humps on it’s back.

Adam:  What are the humps for?

God:  Looks.

Adam: Okay then, how about a platypus?

God:  You already named the platypus the platypus.

Adam:  Oh yeah . . . well how about flatypus . . .  or . . . . oh I know . . . the  blatypus . . . oh wait . . . natypus!

God:  Sigh . . .

Adam:  What’s the matter, God?

God:  I was just thinking how long this is going to take.

Adam:  What are you complaining about?  You’re the one that’s eternal!  LOL!

God:  Adam! You made a joke!  There’s hope for you yet, young man. Now think of some more names.

Adam: Okay! How about a klatypus?

God: Keep trying.

Adam:  A blatypus then?

God:  No.

Adam:  A quatypus?

God:  Nope.

Adam:  Oh I know . . . platypus!  That’s a good name, platypus! Or did I already use that one already?  Hey what are you doing, God?

God:  Creating a chair . . .

And there you have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday school this week.  Please check back next week to find out what happens when Adam finds out all the insects are going to need names too.

Until next time  . . . I love you

Too Many Platypi

 

Once Again Trying to Cheer Up Edgar Allan Poe

edgar allan poe

 

 

Welcome Dear Readers!  As you may know from time to time this blog takes it upon itself to attempt to cheer up American Literature’s most Gloomy Gus, Edgar Allan Poe. Join me, won’t you as we give it yet another try.

 

Hey Eddy!  What’s that you’ve got there?

the bells, bells, bells, bells,
                     Bells, bells, bells —

Oh well, that’s cheery!  Bells are kind of fun.  What is it you like about them?

  How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
                In the icy air of night !

Okay. Well, listen it’s a little cold out here in the icy air of night.  How about we go inside and you can tinkle your bells indoors.

  Hear the mellow wedding bells
                     Golden bells!

Okay are you talking about different bells than the ones you’re currently tinkling? Cause I can’t hear anything over all that tinkling, Edgar!

  To the swinging and the ringing

Of what?  The wedding bells?

  Of the bells,bells, bells,

Bells, yes,  I got that part.

      Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Yeah yeah yeah yeah!  Got it!

                    Bells, bells, bells –

Edgar stop saying bells!

  To the swinging and the ringing
                Of the bells, bells, bells,
      Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
                     Bells, bells, bells –

Okay, Edgar you’re about one second away from getting your face slapped.

  Hear the loud alarum bells —
                         Brazen bells !

Sorry, I don’t hear any alarum bells and I don’t mean to be critical but you spelled alarm wrong and it’s such an easy word, Ed, come on!

   Oh, the bells, bells, bells !
                  What a tale their terror tells
                         Of Despair !

Okay now this is exactly what I’m talking about, Ed.  Everything was going along fine.  You were tinkling some cheery little bells and like two seconds later all of a sudden it’s nothing but terror and Despair!  Can’t you just lighten up for like ten seconds?

  In the silence of the night,
       How we shiver with affright

Affright? Okay, now you’re just flat out making up negative words!  Why not turn that frown upside down and make up some cheery words! You’d feel a lot better about things. Do you know any cheery words?

  In a happy Runic rhyme,
                To the rolling of the bells –

Okay yeah!  There you go!  That’s what I’m talkin’ about!

   To the rolling of the bells —
            Of the bells, bells, bells —

EDGAR!  Stop saying bells!  I’m begging you!

      Of the bells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bells —

Okay Edgar, that’s it.  I’m getting out the duct tape.  It’s going over your mouth right now unless you promise me you will stop saying bells.

bells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bellsbells, bells, bells, bells —
                     Bells, bells, bells

Okay that does it, Buster!

Edgar Allan Poe Smiling

Well, at least he’s finally smiling.

 

Until next time . . . I love you

 

The History of Lint

Welcome Dear Reader to Linda’s History Lessons.  Today’s lesson is:  The History of Lint.

Lint and the Ancient Egyptians

The very first mention of lint in recorded history was in Egypt.  It was recorded in hieroglyphics by HeySup Tutankhamun when he noticed some lint balling up in the creases of his pleated skirt.  After exhaustive study, scholars (who are now home lying down with cool washcloths on their foreheads) believe that the hieroglyphic for lint was represented by the following symbols:

img211

Lint and the Ancient Greeks

The second mention of lint is found among the ruins of Greece.  Scholars of ancient Greece have argued themselves sick over the topic of ancient Grecian Lint.  (One scholar was so winded from arguing he had to be hospitalized.) However, many believe the great philosopher, Socrates, was the most lint savvy.

Socrates weighs in on lint

Still, other scholars believe the go-to lint expert when it came to Ancient Greek Lint was the great mathematician Pythagoras:

Pathagoras on Grecian Lint

Lint and the Roman Empire

The Roman Empire was all mixed up about lint.  Scholars who study the Roman Empire ad nasueam in the vomitorium have concluded that while the Romans were genius builders and conquerors, they had it all wrong when it came to lint and especially the removal thereof:

Lint and the Roman Empire

Lint and The Middle Ages

Scholars can also agree on this one. Nobody  in the middle ages had any idea about lint whatsoever.

Lint in the middle ages

Lint and The Age of Exploration

Scholars insist that on his maiden voyage Christopher Columbus brought back  480 cubic tons of lint to Queen Isabella. But before you get too attached to this fact, you should remember that scholars determined this while splitting a large pepperoni pizza and a couple cases of Alhambra Mezquita beer courtesy of San Miguel Lint Manufacturing Corporation.

Christopher Columbus and his Lint Cargo

Lint and the Founding Fathers

Scholars believe that the failure to mention lint in the Declaration of Independence was instrumental in winning the revolutionary war.  But unfortunately, we will have to wait until they sober up to find out why.

 

FF lint

And there you have it, Dear Readers.  Today’s history lesson.  Please check back at some point in the future to learn more about history and stuff.

Until next time . . . I love you

Shamelessly Plugging Jackie

Welcome Dear Readers!  Today I am shamelessly plugging my daughter, Jackie. She has a really cute blog over at http://cupofjackie.blogspot.com.  I’d be very gratified if you’d go over and check it out!

Shamelessly Plugging Jackie http://cupofjackie.blogspot.com

Shamelessly Plugging Jackie
http://cupofjackie.blogspot.com

Until next time . . .I love you

 

Moses and the Lord Get into a Tiff

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today Gregory learned about what happened when the Lord made some Promised Land disclosures.

Let’s listen in as Gregory tells us how it all happened.

gregory Moses and The Lord Get Into a Tiff

One day, after Moses and his desert-wandering friends had been shuffling through the sands for 40 years, they suddenly found themselves at their final destination, the hill country of the Amorites and the greater Amorite area.

The Lord:  Welp, here you go Moses.  The land I promised to give to your ancestors and to their descendants.  Now go! Occupy! Enjoy!

Moses:  Excellent!  I’ll get everybody packed up and– wait a minute . . . did you say occupy?

The Lord:  Yeah why?

Moses:  But I was under the impression you promised The Promised Land to us because it was already vacant.

The Lord:  What do you mean vacant?

Moses:  Well I just assumed there wouldn’t already be thousands of people living in the Promised Land.

The Lord:  Oh I see what you’re saying.  No.  You’re going to have to kill everybody or conquer them and make them slaves and whatnot, unless you want to see if they’d be willing to have roommates.

Moses:  But don’t you see, it doesn’t really belong to us then.  I mean you promised us land that was already being used by other people.

The Lord:  Moses don’t bust my chops. I promised it!  It’s yours. Badda Bing Badda Boom! Now let me get back to my blocks.  Oh and  careful when you shut the door to my pillar of fire by night and pillar of cloud by day, huh?  You’ll knock over the really really tall block tower I just made.

Moses:  You’re playing with blocks?

The Lord:  Uh nooooo . . . it’s called creating?

Later a few feet outside the Promised Land:

Moses:  Okay, I just sent 12 of you guys to scope out The Promised Land, so what did you find?

Guy#01:  It’s got fabulous fruit!

Guy #02:  It’s fertile, but it’s filled with people who are a lot bigger and stronger than we are.

Guy#03:  And that’s not even taking into account the giants.

 Moses:  What?  Did you say . . . gulp . . . giants?

Guy#04:  Yes giants as in people who are mammoth? jumbo? colossal? humongous? elephantine? walloping? ginorm-

Moses:  Okay okay.  I know what a giant is.

Guy#04:  Well you just let me keep going on so I didn’t know.

Moses:  Okay listen up everybody. I’m going to go report to the Lord that everyone’s scared to go into the Promised Land.

Guy#05:  Uh . . . Couldn’t you just say we’re reluctant?

Guy#01:  Be sure to tell Him about the fruit!

Later at the Lord’s Pillar:

Moses:  Yoohoo! Knock knock knockin’ at heavens door . . . Are you there Lord?  It’s me, Moses.

The Lord: Yeah Moses come on in.  Hey lookee how high I got My block tower now!

Moses:  Hallelujah!  Praise You! Say listen, Lord, I just talked to the 12 guys I sent to scope out the promised land and—

The Lord:  Yeah I know. I overheard the whole conversation and I’m angry.

Moses:  How angry?

The Lord:  Well not angry enough to take My Almighty Hand and send My block tower crashing to the floor, but angry enough to forbid this evil generation from ever setting foot in the Promised Land. Except for one person.  What’s that guys name who liked the fruit?

Moses:  Caleb son of Jephunneh?

The Lord:  Yeah him.  He can go but no one else.

Moses:  Okay I’ll go tell them they can’t enter the Promised Land.

The Lord:  Oh and Moses?

Moses:  Yes?

The Lord: That includes you.

Moses:  What?  Me?  But that’s not fair.  After schlepping around the desert for 40-friggin’ years for no really good reason other than just cuz — this is the thanks I get?  I don’t know whether to scream or to cry.

The Lord:  Well, one thing’s for sure.  If you slam that door on your way out, and my block tower falls over, I’ll give you something to cry about, young man.

Moses:  I’m not young.  I’m 600-years-old.

The Lord:  Well, you don’t look it.

Moses:  Thanks.

And there you have it, Dear Readers. What Gregory learned in Sunday school today. Please check back next week to find out what Gregory will learn next.

Until next time . . . I love you

 

Caleb son of Jephunneh

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linda’s Bedtime Stories for Grownup Children

Loretta Splatts, Human Cannon Ball

If there was one thing Loretta Splatts wasn’t it was . . . well, come to think of it, there actually wasn’t one thing Loretta Splatts wasn’t — at least in her mind anyway.

You see, Loretta didn’t own a car. She preferred to travel everywhere by being shot out of a cannon. Oh sure, there was the small inconvenience of not being able to go anywhere unless she had cab fare home, but Loretta thought it was a small price to pay for having a legitimate reason to wear a cape in public.

Loretta Splatts being shot out of a cannon linda vernon humor

“Gosh I sure am saving a lot of money on gas.”

Loretta often joked that the trajectory of her life was trending upwards even though nobody ever laughed when she said it.  The sad fact was, nobody listened to a word Loretta said — they were too preoccupied waving away the intermittent puffs of smoke emanating from her slightly smoldering cape or distractedly brushing stray bits of gun powder from her platinum blonde hair to actually listen to what she had to say.

Loretta Splatts Smoldering cape

“So anyways, my life’s trending upwards LOL!”                                                         “Sorry to interrupt but  I’m distracted by your slightly smoldering cape.”

Sometimes Loretta felt like a 40-pound dill pickle that people were compelled to ignore because, let’s face it, a 40-pound dill pickle is just way too much pickle to process at any one time.

40 pound dill pickle linda vernon  humor

Too much pickle to process

Loretta’s only true confidant was her Cannon Ball Igniter, Percival Perplexington, a recent graduate of the Royal Academy of Sciences and Cannon Igniters founded in 1323 by King William Blunk VIII÷V who was > King William Blunk VII ÷ VI but not by much.

Kings linda vernon humor

King William Blunk VIII÷V who was > King William Blunk VII ÷ VI but not by much

Percival Perplexington was a jolly sort of fellow who never let the burden his igniting responsibilities eat away at his good-natured heart although he could sometimes feel those same responsibilities late at night nibbling on his spleen. But spleens are expendable!  That was Percival’s motto having stolen it from the Royal Academy of Sciences and Cannon Igniters when he pried it off their front door his first day of class.

Royal Academy of Science and Cannon Ball Igniters

Percival graduated with honors and immediately took a position with Loretta Splatts as her official Cannon Igniter.  His fellow graduates where aghast when he accepted such a lowly position with such an inferior human cannon ball the likes of Loretta, but there was just something about the way she raised her hand to signal the lighting of the fuse that Percival Perplexington was mesmerized by or perhaps memorized by.  One of those.

Loretta Splatts and Percival Perplexington

Loretta Splatts and her devoted Igniter, Percival Perplexington

Try as he might, he simply could not look away from Loretta’s pinky.  Whether she was hailing a cab or signaling that he should light the fuse, Percival Perplexington was totally and utterly and completely dedicated to Loretta Splatts.  He even donated his shoes when the people came collecting for the Annual Shoes for Fuse donation drive to aid less fortunate human cannon balls in third world countries.

Percival Perplexington's feet

He gave his shoes for the betterment of third world human cannon balls

It was a sad day for Percival Perplexington when his employer Loretta Splatts finally lived up to her name.  She was meeting a friend for lunch at the Riboflavin Rotisserie when she misjudged the location of the outdoor seating area by a skosh and came crashing down in the middle of a cow pasture that as luck would have it was being rented out to a mattress company.  She bounced off one of the mattresses and got temporarily stuck in a tree when a huge gust of wind blew her into oncoming traffic.

Loretta Splatts splat

And splat went Loretta Splatts

Percival Perplexington was positively beside himself with grief. It took him hours and hours  to eat lunch that day at the Riboflavin Rotisserie.

You see, he ordered a forty-pound dill pickle in honor of Loretta Splatts.

"Yes sir!  One forty pound pickle comin' up!"

“Yes sir! One forty-pound pickle comin’ up!

Ten Ways to Tell If You Need a New Cat

You just noticed your current cat’s expiration date expired a year ago.

Why are you looking at me like that cat

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

 Your current cat’s breath smells like Funyuns.

cat breath

“Ew! Everybody stand back!”

Frankly, your current cat’s a little too much of a bible thumper for your liking.

cat reading bible

“If you’re going out you better be going to church.”

 Your current cat loads dirty dishes in with the clean dishes and then runs them all through again.

cat loading dishwasher

“Wait a minute . . . I think these are clean . . . oh what the hell.”

Your current cat leaves big strips of tall grass whenever it mows the lawn.

cat mowing lawn

“If this were my yard, I’d replace it with sand lickity split.”

 Your current cat’s a gloater

cat gloater

“Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

 Your current cat thinks Mt. Rushmore is a natural formation.

cat mt. rushmore

“I don’t care what anybody says. This here’s caused by water erosion.”

 No matter how many times you try to explain it, your current cat keeps sewing the elastic waistband into the bottom of the pant leg.

cat sewing

“I’m gonna do it right. I’m gonna do it right. I’m gonna do it right . . .”

You suspect your current cat is the one who maxed out your credit cards on http://www.bevmo.com

cat with beer

“I was thoisty.”

And finally, the best way to tell if you need a new cat:

You installed a nanny cam and, sure enough, it’s your current cat that keeps stealing the last maple bar.

cat with maple bar

Whaaat? 

Slightly Creepy Seventies Bedrooms

Welcome, Dear Readers, to the Slightly Creepy Seventies. The decade in which babies who were dropped on their heads thirty years prior grew up to become Slightly Creepy Seventies Bedroom Designers.

remodeling and decorating bedrooms a sunset book

Today we will be examining the bizarre ideas of Slightly Creepy Seventies bedroom designers.

 

File me under Zzzz.

Guest bedroom Slightly Creepy Seventies Style

What this slightly creepy seventies guest bedroom lacks in charm, it makes up for invoices incurred between 1968 and 1973

Now here’s a typical slightly creepy seventies bizarre idea. Why not use the top of these filing cabinets as a guest bedroom?  An idea that was so far ahead of it’s time that even millions of years from now there still won’t be any filing cabinet guest bedrooms.

Now let’s look at that desk.   Go ahead.  Take your time. (We’ve got several million years.)  The caption on this picture explains that a desk extension (the one that you see there in the form of the world’s shortest ladder) has been designed in such a way as to allow an overnight guest to climb to the top of the ladder, and, while still facing the wall, launch him or herself into the air, whale-like,  with a mighty backward thrust.

If the guest gets lucky, he or she will land squarely on the comfy two-inch mattress that has been lovingly provided by their slightly creepy seventies host.

I know.  I can hear your next question from a million years away: “But what if guests miss the mattress completely?”  Ha ha! No harm done. The good news is the open drawer on the filing cabinet will more than likely break his or her fall. But if that happens the bad news is kidney transplants haven’t been invented yet.

 

Good Lord!  It’s a bed!  Look away!!

hideous 70's beds

Back in the slightly creepy seventies nothing was more hideous, more odious, more hippopotamus than looking at a cumbersome big ol’ bed sticking out in the harsh light of day smack dab in the middle of the bedroom floor for all the world to see.

Not counting the hair, clothing and pop culture of the Slightly Creepy Seventies, nothing could compare to the heartache of having to stare at a bed just sitting there stupidly and awkwardly all the livelong day.  It was a bedroom design faux pas that would have made Mary Tyler Moore herself weep bitterly.

Luckily, bizarre Slightly Creepy Seventies bedroom designers solved this unsightly “bed” problem by making a bed that folded up into the wall at a moment’s notice!

 “Hurry Mary Tyler Moore! Push! PUSH!  We know you’re fashionably underweight by 20 to 30 pounds, but for heaven sakes, put some elbow grease into it, girl!”

That’s better Mary. Now quickly, pull out granny’s rocker and make like you’re just reading a magazine. That’s right!  Just reading and rocking that’s all.  Bed? What bed?  Don’t know nothin’ ’bout no bed!

 

Don’t ask don’t tell!

slightly creepy seventies librarian

Say what?  A secret TV?  Oh those Slightly Creepy Seventies Designers that were dropped on their heads when they were babies think of everything and then some!

What in the world is slightly creepy seventies Caroline up to?  Did she rob the petty cash from the library where she works again and is hiding it in the safe she has cleverly hidden behind that picture?

Well don’t let those horn-rimmed glasses of hers fool you.  Why?  Because hidden behind that picture is no safe!  It just so happens it’s a friggin’ state-of-the-art  12-inch Motorola color TV! Yes you heard me right with that little voice in your head that does all your reading!

And it seems our dear Slightly-Creepy-Seventies Caroline is a conservative librarian by day and a raging, out-of-control Mary Tyler Moore watching fool by night!  Her secret longing?  Why to turn the world on with her smile, of course.  But she tells everyone she never watches TV . . . so keep it to yourself, huh?

The Circle of Life

Slightly Creepy Seventies mother and child

Slightly Creepy Seventies Bedroom Designer of the Future

Clearly this Slightly Creepy Seventies mom is enjoying her Slightly Creepy Seventies baby like nobody’s business.  The bad news is she accidentally dropped this little guy on his head seconds after this picture was taken.  The good news is he will grow up to carry on the tradition of Slight Creepy Seventies bedroom design well into the 21st Century and maybe even beyond, but probably not.

And there you have it Dear Readers.  Now you can go about the rest of your day being thankful for the fact that  you weren’t dropped on your head when you were a baby or, if you were, at least being thankful we’re no longer living in the Slightly Creepy Seventies.

Until next time . . . I love you

 

 

 

Gregory’s Bible Stories: Moses’s Trick Chiseling Elbow

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today Gregory learned about how Moses helped the Lord set up and take down His holy tent.

Let’s listen in as Gregory tells us how it all happened.

gregory Moses’s Trick Chiseling Elbow

One day while the Lord was on a camping trip relaxing in His Tent at Camp Holy Land, He decided to dictate to Moses exactly how he wanted His Sacred Stuff moved when it was time to break camp.  Moses chiseled down His instructions.

The Lord:  Moses, when it’s time to go I want Aaron, your brother, and his two sons to come inside My Tent and take down the curtain in front of the covenant box and cover the covenant box with it.

Moses:   . . . and cover box with it . . . got it.

The Lord:  And cover the covenant box with it . . . be sure to specify covenant.

Moses:  Yeah but I thought I could just shorten “covenant box” to “box” as my trick chiseling elbow is acting up again.

The Lord:  Do as I say, young man,  or I’ll give your trick chiseling elbow something to act up about, and I’m not just whistling Dixie!

Moses:   . . . not just whistling Dixie . . . got it.

The Lord:  No!  Don’t write that down you idiot!

Moses:   . . . don’t write that down you idiot . . .got it.

The Lord:  Oy!

Moses:   . . . Oy . . . got it.

The Lord:  After that, have Aaron and his sons put a blue cloth over the covenant box then put bread on top of  that and spread a red cloth over  that and then put a leather cover on top of that and insert the carrying poles. Did you get all that Moses?

Moses:  . . . hang on . . . did you get all that Moses . . . got it.

The Lord:  Hallelujah!

Moses:  Are there  three or four L’s in Hallelujah?  I’m guessing four?

Moses's trick chiseling elbow

“H. . .  A . . .  L . . . L . . . L . . .L? “

The Lord:   Then it’s just practically self explanatory from there on out. Have them put a blue cloth over the lamp stand and olive oil containers and spread a blue cloth over the gold alter and put a fine leather cover over that and then remove the greasy ashes over the alter and put a purple cloth over that and put all the fire pans, hooks, shovels and basins over that and then carry it all to the next location without touching any of the sacred objects or they will die, yadda yadda yadda.

Moses:   . . . yadda yadda yadda . . . got it.  Wait a minute Lord!  Did you just say they will die if they touch any of the sacred objects?

The Lord:  Correctomundo.

Moses:  Did I mention my brother, Aaron has a bad back?

The Lord:  Not to worry, I’m hiring the Starving Kohath Clan Movers to do all the heavy lifting but it is your responsibility, Moses, to make sure that they aren’t killed by coming near the most sacred objects. In fact, if they even see the priests preparing the sacred objects for moving they will die.

Moses:  . . . they will die . . . got it.  Can I go now?  I need to ice my trick chiseling elbow.

The Lord:  Yeah you can go in just a minute, but first do me a solid and take a census of Levite Clan, register all the men between the ages of thirty and fifty who were qualified to work in the Tent of the Lord’s presence and then after you do that,  you’ll need to chisel down who I want to carry what.

Moses: Can I at least have a break to eat my goat sandwich I brought from home?

The Lord:  Man does not live by bread alone.

Moses:  Yeah I know, Lord, hence the goat!

The Lord:  Don’t get smarty with me, young man!  Tell you what.  First, chisel down my instructions for disassembling My Tent. It’s pretty simple, it will only take about 14 hours to explain and then you can have a bathroom break.

14 hours later:

The Lord:  Okay Moses I think I’ve covered which part of my tent all 8,580 Levites will each be carrying from here to the next camping site.  Any questions?

Moses:  Yes. Can I ice my trick chiseling elbow now?  It hurts dreadfully.

The Lord:  Oh wait.  Speaking of dreadful,  I almost forgot. Before you go, Moses, I need you to expel everybody from Camp Holy Land who has a dreaded skin disease or a bodily discharge and also everyone who is unclean by contact with a corpse and then you can go home early.

Moses:    . . . contact with a corpse . . . got it.  And then can I ice my trick chiseling elbow?

The Lord:  Sure except . . .

Moses:  Except what?

The Lord:  I haven’t had a chance to create ice yet.  Sorry.

Moses:  Why I oughtta . . .

The Lord:  What was that, Moses?

Moses:  Nothing.

 And there you have it, Dear Readers what Gregory learned in Sunday School this morning. Please check back next week to find out what wonderful things Gregory will learn in Sunday School next week.

Until next time . . . I love you

Covenant Box table cloth

God's Big Feet

 

The Dark and Stormy April 15th Deadline

“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents–except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.”

–Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)

It’s April 15th, so go ahead and round-up all those remaining brain cells that have yet to be killed off and put them away in a safe place because you’re going to need only the dead ones for this next task.

That’s because April 15th is the deadline for the Bulwer Lytton Fiction Contest, a competition sponsored by San Jose State, where contestants vie for the dishonor of writing the worst beginning sentence to an imaginary novel inspired the purple prose of Edward George Bulwer-Lytton.

Now since it was still a couple of days before the first day of the rest of my life, I decided to enter the Bulwer Lytton Fiction contest and guess what? Turns out I’m a horrible writer! So horrible, in fact, that out of 10,000 entries, my very bad sentence won the grand prize for the very crummiest of  them all!

My triumphant mess went as follows:

Delores breezed along the surface of her life like a flat stone forever skipping along smooth water, rippling reality sporadically, but oblivious to it consistently, until she finally lost momentum, sank and due to and overdose of fluoride as a child which caused her to suffer from chronic apathy, doomed herself to lie forever on the floor of her life as useless and an appendix and as lonely as a 500-lb. barbel in a steroid free fitness center.

Now because I aspired to be a tad bit better than bad, I decided to sit down to my keyboard and make the following attempts to write at least one sentence that could possibly be considered “pretty good.”

Amanda’s obsession for making homemade bread for the entire neighborhood was beginning to take over her life, and as she sat at the kitchen table with her flour-covered face in her flour-covered hands, the warm sun shone steadily through the kitchen window and Amanda began to slowly rise up out of her chair — suddenly realizing that she needed to be kneaded.

and

Charlie dreamed that he was dreaming he was awake and had fallen asleep.

OK, truthfully, at this point, I was starting to get a bit nervous about being able to come up with a pretty good sentence. It seemed the harder I tried to write pretty good, the more elusive “pretty good” became. Frankly, serious doubts were beginning to pierce the ears of my soul. But still I forged onward:

Rayton, a fine Guppitoid from Repox VII couldn’t put his slimy little fingerling on why Jessica, an ichthyolgist’s dream, wouldn’t have him for her husband when he had made it abundantly clear that the only domestic duties she would have to perform would be to boost his ego and to bear him several million live young a year, which he was even willing to help her eat.

and

As soon as Mary got to her walk-up, she was held up, tied up, and told to shut up, but luckily the culprits were picked up, locked up and Mary was helped up and then she threw up.

Ah! Finally I was warmed up. But one thing was certain. If I was ever going to write that pretty good sentence, I needed to relax.

I began taking deep breaths, one after another until the last thing I remember was falling off my chair and hitting the floor like –what else — a 500-lb. barbel in a steroid-free fitness center.

Which brings me to the moral of this story:

She who enters the Bulwer Lytton can take a lick in’ and keep on tickin.

Hey now! That’s a pretty good sentence if I do say so myself. But my quest for a pretty good sentence does not end here. I’m going to keep at it until I come up with the perfect pretty good sentence. It may take awhile but, after all, I do have until the last day of the rest of my life, or April 15th — which ever comes first.

Until next time . . . I love you

Linda’s Bedtime Stories for Grown-up Children

Miss Penelope’s Distraction

When Miss Penelope walked into her third-grade class, a hush, like rain, came over her students.  It might have been because Miss Penelope was tall and beautiful with naturally-curly, flaming-red hair.  Or it might have been because Miss Penelope was carrying her teacup poodle, Nippers, in her tea-cup. Then again, it might have been because Miss Penelope had three legs.

Benjamin Bananason’s hand shot up before Miss Penelope was even done writing MISS PENELOPE on the blackboard.

“Yes Benjamin.”  Miss Penelope said.

“Is there going to be homework this year?  What time’s lunch? And may I please use the bathroom?”

Miss Penelope crossed two of her legs and leaned on the other while she answered Benjamin’s last question affirmatively and pondered the other two questions.

While she was thinking, Rebecca Ribeye raised her hand.

“Yes Rebecca?”

“My aunt, Lavern, has naturally-curly, flaming-red hair just like yours, Miss Penelope.  She had to go to prison though.  What’s your doggie’s name?”

“Nippers” Miss Penelope answered, and then raised the tea-cup containing Nippers to her lips as though she would take a sip — but gave Nippers a kiss instead.

The children laughed until it was time for recess.

That’s when Principal Connie Vickers marched in.

“Well?  How did they respond?” Connie Vickers demanded.  “I would imagine the children were not able to talk about anything else all morning but your—“

“My teacup poodle, Nippers?”

“No, not Nippers!  Your . . . your . . . .” Connie squirmed and tried not to look at any of Miss Penelope’s legs.

“Oh you mean my distraction.” Miss Penelope said helpfully.  “My naturally-curly, flaming-red hair. “

“No!  Not that distraction!  I’m talking about your extra leg Miss Penelope.  I’m talking about the fact that you have THREE legs, Miss Penelope!”

In the silence that followed, Principal Connie Vickers reached her finger over to pet Nippers whose razor- sharp, tiny teeth went into the fleshy part of Connie Vickers finger like a knife through warm butter.

horrrible art Linda Vernon Humor

Until next time . . . I love you