“The world is more like it is now than it ever has been before.” Former president Dwight D. Eisenhower is said to have made that statement; I tend to agree with him.
The main topic of every conversation eventually works its way around to the recent slowdown of the economy. Even the children are feeling the pinch from all the cutbacks.
Like the little guy who wanted a bike for his birthday. The bike cost a hundred dollars and his parents told him they couldn’t afford to buy it for him.
So the little boy decided to ask God for the money to buy the bike. But instead of praying, he decided the best way to get God’s attention would be to write a letter to Him.
He wrote the letter, requesting the money and addressed the letter simply “To God, In Heaven,” placed a stamp on it and took it to the post office.
The workers at the post office didn’t know what to do with the letter. They decided the best way to handle it would be to send it to the president of the United States and let him follow up with the child.
The president read the letter and smiled. He thought about it for a while then he decided to send the little boy a few dollars since the child had taken the time to write such a touching letter.
So the president put a ten-dollar-bill in the envelope and sent it back to the little boy.
A couple of days later the little boy received the letter with the money inside. That night he sat down and wrote another letter to God, thanking Him for the sending the money to him.
However at the end of the letter he wrote: “Please, will you send me another hundred dollars but this time send it directly to my address here at home. Your other letter with the hundred dollars in it somehow got rerouted through Washing DC and the stinkin’ government took ninety dollars out of it for taxes.”
Personally, I feel that it’s important for our children to understand the value of money. It’s never too early to teach them that the stuff doesn’t grow on a money tree in the back yard and that it can’t buy happiness. Although I will admit that it can buy a nicer house to be unhappy in. But the children don’t need to learn that right away. That knowledge will come with time. (And they also don’t need to be shown where I ended a previous sentence with a preposition, which was something up with which my English teachers would not put.)
Getting back to kids and the economy, does it scare you the way it scares me when you think about them trying to survive without all the things they take for granted today? We of the baby-boomer generation could survive without a lot of things, although it would be very uncomfortable. After all, most of us have been around longer than some of the new things on which our youth have come to rely so heavily, like cell phones, iPods, computers, game consoles, GPS, and blue tooth technology. And also electricity, gas, fast food restaurants and indoor plumbing. It’s scary to think about them being forced to cope without all that.
I’m hoping they never have to learn.
But here’s something I thought of that is even scarier than that. Do you realize that within the next 45-55 years there will be men and women hobbling around on their walkers, sporting sagging, wrinkled tattoos, with all sorts of metal rings and studs sticking through their eyebrows, nose, cheeks, tongues and lips.
I suppose the world will probably be more like it is then than it ever was before. Wouldn’t you agree?
Tags: electricity, ipod, postal service, tattoo
Dear Person-Who-Made-Me-Sick,
I wanted to send you a letter to let you know how much I appreciate your visiting me in my home last week. It was such a nice surprise. Thank you for singling me out as one of your special friends, and for taking the time away from your sick bed to come and visit me. You were barely able to hold up your head and yet you came.
I truly enjoyed talking with you and hearing all about your illness and suffering. The sneezing and coughing was adorable and you really looked great with a 102 degree temperature. Fever really does become you. It brings out your eyes, and the rash added a kind of pinkish glow to your skin.
The parting gifts you left were very much appreciated. After all, who wouldn’t be delighted to wake up with a hacking cough, a runny nose and a sore throat. Oh, and this raging fever is just what I have been needing. Everyone dreams, at least once in their life time, of waking up with a headache that is so severe it feels like they’ve parted their hair with a hatchet.
Seriously, thank you. This is the perfect gift for someone who basically has no immune system. Also, my diabetes and anemia make it even more special to me than to most of your other friends, who are, to coin a phrase, “healthy as horses”.
Your timing was perfect too, as this is the busiest time of the year at the newspaper office. They love it when we can’t do our jobs. Who knows, they may give me a bonus this year in the form of a pink slip or perhaps severance pay.
Since we haven’t seen one another in several years, I’m quite certain it would have killed the both of us if you had waited another week — say until you were less contagious — before you came for a visit. I’m just happy that you seized the moment and dropped by. It isn’t everyday that visitors catch me on my way out the door. Your timing was amazing.
I am looking forward to sharing the gifts you left for me with my hubby. It isn’t like he has a great health plan or anything. Actually he has no health plan so his doctor’s visit and medication will be a real boost to our nearly nonexistent bank account. Not to mention the days or possibly weeks he will get to spend away from his work.
In my fever-induced delirium I almost forgot to tell you that my other wasbands would probably love to see you too. Perhaps you could drop by and visit with them before your germs have all become dormant. They too enjoy a good bout of the flu and strep throat each year. After all, what are friends for if not to share?
Anyway, have a very happy flu season and a great viral new year. I hope you can come for a visit again soon. Or perhaps you might want to wait until early spring. I hear that spring time is a good time for chicken pox. Maybe you can bring me a case of them. I’ve never had chicken pox before and I hear they’re loads of fun.
If I happen to get a twenty-four-hour virus within the coming months I’ll be sure to drop by and visit with you. I won’t call ahead, I’ll just drop in and surprise you.
I’m hoping that this illness will last at least a couple of weeks. It’s lovely to be bedridden around the Christmas Holidays.
However, if this affliction happens to kill me I’ll be dropping by to visit you on a nightly basis. When I’m not knocking things off your shelves or slamming doors, I’ll be in your attic dragging chains across the floor.
Humor-Blogs won’t make you sick. Promise!
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Tags: colds, fevers, flu season
When I was a kid growing up there weren’t as many parenting rules as there are now. Of course there were things you just didn’t do. We got our “hides tanned” with a belt or a switch if we disobeyed, but nobody was abused. Even our teachers spanked us.
But that isn’t the worst of it. I’m thinking about our reading material. Remember those books we loved so much as children. I’m talking about the classics, with titles like: “Hansel and Gretel,” “Little Red Riding Hood,” and “Sleeping Beauty”. Talk about violence and black magic and topics that today are considered taboo! And these were our bedtime stories. I’m wondering how on earth these stories ever got published.
Whenever an author submits a book idea to a publisher, the editors ask for a synopsis of the book and a few sample chapters. Now as we know, a synopsis is nothing more than a brief summary that tells what the book is about. What I’m wondering is this: What on this green earth were the editors and publishers thinking when they accepted a book with the following theme:
“Dear Editor;
I have written a story about a girl whose mother dies and her father remarries. Her step mother is a mean and abusive woman who makes the poor girl work all the time, doesn’t feed her and forces her to wear old ragged clothes. Her step sisters make fun of her and treat her like a servant. They call her names, and she has to clean out the chimney and scrub the floors while they go to a party. So the girl finds a way to sneak off to the party where she meets a guy and marries him because he is rich, even though she has only seen him one time. The title of the story is “Cinderella”. I feel that the story will appeal to all little girls.”
Is there a moral to this story? Let’s see…It will teach children that all stepmothers are wicked and if things get too bad they can sneak off to a party. They should marry the first rich man who chases them until they run out of their shoe and they will live happily ever after. Yeah. Little girls should definitely read Cinderella.
Or how about this one:
“Dear Editor;
I have written a story about a father who gets remarried and the step mother doesn’t want the kids. The mother convinces the father to take the children into the woods and abandon them. The children happen upon a house where an evil old witch lives. The old hag tells them that she is a cannibal and that she is going to kill and eat the children but they turn violent and shove her into a hot oven and take over her house where they live happily ever after. I don’t know what this teaches kids but it will make for some fine reading, especially for those kids who have suddenly gotten new moms. This title of the story is “Hansel and Gretel”.
Okay. The moral of this story? It’s okay to break into another person’s house, and even though it is self defense, they can bake the owner and take over the house and live happily ever after. Oh, and it’s okay to take your kids into the forest and leave them to fend for themselves. It will also strengthen the belief that all stepmothers are wicked and evil.
Following is a list of children’s book titles that might have gone over quite well when I was a kid. I wonder why someone didn’t write them:
The Boy Who Died From Eating Broccoli.
The Real Reason You Were Adopted
That’s It; You Are Bad and I’m Leaving
Jack And The Electrical Outlet
Things You Can Do With Sharp Knives
So, can someone explain to me again the reason why so many people wanted to ban the Harry Potter books?
I’m just asking…
– visit humor-blogs for more fractured fables
Tags: bedtime stories, fairy tales, Harry Potter, magic
When I received the proposal late Friday afternoon to become Mrs. Santa Clause, I just couldn’t refuse. After all, I’ve married nearly everybody else so why not marry Santa.
Okay, seriously, you need to stop rolling your eyes at me that way.
Actually, I didn’t really marry Santa. I just kind of borrowed his wife’s dress and bonnet in order to keep an eye on Santa during the Christmas Parade on Saturday. As we all know, the poor guy IS hundreds of years old and very overweight. Almost anything could happen. And the way the children adore him, leaving him alone in a crowd of these little darlings could be as dangerous as leaving Elvis unguarded among a mob of screaming fans. The outcome wouldn’t be very pretty.
Another responsibility for Mrs. Clause is that she must make certain that Santa is always comfortable, that his beard is well groomed and that he doesn’t get overly excited and fall out of his sleigh when greeting all the excited children. She also helps him remember to shout “Ho, Ho, Ho, Merry Christmas.” Although this year Santa was kind of reluctant at first to shout out “Ho, Ho, Ho. Merry Christmas,” because he was afraid he might get into trouble the way Don Imus did. But everyone assured him that it was perfectly PC (Politically Correct) for Santa Clause to do that. In fact, it’s expected.
However, to be quite honest with you, the main reason I agreed to do this is because Amanda at the Chamber of Commerce asked me to. Although she is my niece, she seems more like my daughter and for some odd reason I can never bring myself to say no to anything she asks of me. If she asked me to throw myself off a roof top, I would probably ask her which building she preferred me to jump from. I just hope she doesn’t get any promotional ideas from this.
Do you think one of you could help me out here and convince Amanda that it is NOT GOOD for the businesses in the county to have folks flinging themselves off the tops of the buildings so please don’t even think about it? Thank you for that.
Anyway, the reason Mrs. Clause couldn’t attend the parade was because she was feeling under the weather. After all, she does live way up near the North Pole where it’s daylight for six long months and very, very cold. I think she may have gotten the sniffles from the minus 32 degree temperatures. I’m not sure exactly where in the North Pole Mr. and Mrs. Santa Clause live but I’m thinking it must be someplace close to Alaska. I heard Santa telling someone that he could see Russia from his back yard.
At any rate, Santa made it through the parade and is now home again, where he is taking good care of Mrs. Clause so she will be well in time for Christmas.
He was very impressed by all the sweet wonderful children at the parade and he said to tell them all that they were very well behaved and he is proud of them. I’m quite certain they will all get another visit from Santa on Christmas Eve.
Actually I had a great time filling in for Mrs. Clause at the parade on Saturday. It was just the little extra push I was needing to put me into a full-blown Christmas mood. When I came home I was singing Christmas Carols and I dragged out the plastic Christmas tree. Then I went all ‘Martha Stewart’ on Hubby and began decorating our house for the holidays with glitter nuts and bent coat hangers. You’ll have to excuse me now because the glue is getting dry on the pine cones and I haven’t added the old used buttons and ribbons to them yet. According to Martha’s instructions on her website, it’s best to do this while the glue-covered pinecone is still tacky.
That Martha, she’s such a kidder.
Santa is now at Humor-blogs.com
Tags: Christmas Parade, mrs. clause, north poll, santa clause
I think my house is angry with me. I can’t say that I blame it. I have been neglecting it a lot lately. A home and its furnishings can be really annoying when they want to be. I tried to have a civil conversation with them this morning but nooooo! They wanted to pout and act all oppressed and stuff. I tried to explain why I had been neglecting everything but that didn’t help. So now we aren’t even speaking to one another. Here is a transcript of our actual conversation this morning:
Hello Walls. I know I promised to clean the cobwebs off you right after Halloween but something has come up. It’s my back, you see. It’s been hurting and I… What’s that? Yeah, yeah, I know you’ve heard this all before, but seriously… Stop glaring at me. I really will wash you down next week. You don’t have to get so snippy about it! And straighten your pictures. They’re all crooked, and that shelf looks ridiculous.
Good Morning, Stove. I know I don’t turn you on anymore, but it’s this thing with my back. Yes, I’m still eating. What’s that got to do with anything? I don’t care what the microwave told you. No I haven’t gone back to eating raw vegetables and fruit. Okay, so I used the crock pot a couple of times. Why’s that suddenly your business? Just shut up and wipe your eyes, you have grease in the corners of them. No I don’t want to look inside your oven!
Hey Dishwasher. I don’t know why you’re angry. It’s not like Hubby hasn’t been feeding you enough lately. So, what if he doesn’t do it the same way that I do. No, he isn’t trying to choke you to death, that’s just the way he feeds you your dishes. Stop whining. Okay, I’ll talk to him about feeding you too much at each meal. But I really don’t see what’s so bad about an extra pot or two and you’re not going to die if the silverware falls out of your basket. Good Grief!
Yoohoo! Washer-and-Dryer? I know you guys are in there - somewhere - underneath all that laundry. Stop pouting and listen to me. I know I haven’t been feeding you much lately but it’s my back. It feels like it might… Washer! Dryer! Are you two listening to me? Don’t make me move all this dirty laundry to find you. Okay, I give up. When the two of you are done with your pity party, then we’ll talk.
Hi, Water-Bed-Without-a-Bladder. Well, for goodness sake, what on earth is the matter with you? All I did was take away your water bladder and replace it with a real mattress. Is that any reason to get your sheets in a knot? I just couldn’t put your covers on anymore with all that water sloshing me around. Remember that time I fell in the middle of you and rolled around for an hour trying to get up? Oh, and besides, Hubby said he was getting tired of having to take the motion sickness pills every night because I kept tossing and turning and causing a tsunami. It kept throwing him overboard. Is that a lump? I’m not pointing any fingers here but I think you may be the cause of my back. Did I tell you that it’s… What’s that? The couch said what? Well, yeah I did fall asleep on it a few times. But you know I always come back to you. Fine! Be that way. Until you decide to stop being so lumpy I’ll stay on the couch.
Good Morning, Sweet Recliner. It’s so good to see you. You’re the only one who seems concerned about my back. You’re such a nice piece of furniture. You’ve always been my favorite you know. Do you think we might snuggle for awhile? You’re so kind and helpful. I wish the other furniture was as thoughtful as you. It’s my back you know. It’s… Well sure the remote can sit on our lap. We can watch TV for an hour or so. That is if the house will shut up with all the nagging and whining.
Sometimes I think you’re the only one who cares about my back. Uh…If I should doze off would you wake me up in a little while? Thank you Recliner, you’re the best.
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humor-blogs does their housework perfectly
Tags: furniture, house cleaning, microwave
Author’s Note: Since this is a humor blog you have probably come here expecting a humor column but this week I wanted to share a special feature I did for my hometown newspaper in honor of Veterans’ Day. Hopefully I will be back next week with something funny . 
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Vietnam: more than a conflict to those who fought
While there were many young men who volunteered, many others of them were stripped of their cap and gown and dressed in OD Green, their hard earned high school diploma snatched from their hopeful fingers and replaced by a letter from the US Government that read: “Greetings”.
They were pulled from the embrace of their parents and their girlfriends and shipped off for a few weeks of training before being dropped into a steamy jungle a whole world away from everything that was familiar to them.
They could have chosen not to go. They could all have opted to run, to cross the border into Canada, or for those who could afford it, enrolled in college and “dodged” the draft - and a lot of them did.
However the majority of these young men had been raised to honor their country and to obey the laws of their government. These young men honored the command handed down to them by their “Uncle Sam” and they went without complaining to fight a war that was not of their choosing.
And even today all these many years later it is still referred to as a “conflict” instead of war. But for those who fought in the swamps and jungles of Vietnam, it was indeed a war. It was a horrible war and one that our Vietnam veterans are still fighting today. A war from which not a one of these men returned home completely whole. Even though some of them came home with all their limbs still attached, each one of them came home wounded in spirit, in mind and emotion. These brave soldiers, some who left as teen aged boys all came home as men, men who had been robbed of their childhood dreams, never to be the same again.
They didn’t come home to parades or crowds of proud civilians waving yellow ribbons and flags; they came home to angry mobs who carried signs that read “Baby Killer”. They were spat upon as they stepped from their buses onto the American soil for which they had fought.
According to one Vietnam Veteran we spoke with, the news of the protests and the way some of the American citizens had turned on the military and on their own country was confusing to those who were fighting and dying in Vietnam.
“Sure, it was a political war but that wasn’t the point,” he said. “The point was that we were there, doing what our country had asked us to do. We were there to honor our flag and obey the command we had been given by the leaders of our government.”
Ernie Moore of Erwin received his draft notice at the age of 19. Eighteen weeks later, following 8 weeks of basic training at Fort Campbell, Kentucky and 8 weeks of swamp training at Fort Polk, Louisiana, he found himself in Cameron Bay and then on to the rice patties in Chu Lai. There he would spend the next eleven months and twenty nine days in a place that can only be described as “hell on earth”.
“There was no typical day there,” Moore said when asked to describe a typical day in Vietnam. “You never knew what to expect. Anything could happen day or night. The day could be going along uneventful then you could suddenly find yourself in a firefight or being hit with an RPG (Rocket Propelled Grenade) within the next second.”
According to Moore, it was standard procedure at night to periodically shoot off a flare to light up the base camp and check the surroundings. He recalled one night during the monsoons, when the night was pitch black and the rain was pouring down. When the flare lit up the area, they spotted two “sappers” crawling toward their camp. “Sappers” were what they called the Viet Cong who carried out the suicide missions. Their aim was to crawl into camp and blow up as many soldiers as they could, until they were either shot or blown up themselves. “Both of them had a basket full of explosives and one had a grenade launcher. We were just lucky that we saw them in time,” Moore said.
He explained that the nights in Vietnam during the monsoon season were the blackest dark you will ever see. “You could not see your hand if you held it up in front of you,” he said.
“Trying to sleep in the pouring rain when we were out on a mission during the monsoons was really hard too,” he recalled. “We had no shelter so we just wrapped up in our ponchos to try and keep a little bit of the rain off us while we tried to sleep. Sometimes we would be out like this for two or three weeks at a time.”
When describing some of the horrors that he experienced during his time in Chu Lai, Moore broke down and cried several times.
He recalled a terrible day when one of the personnel carriers in their convoy hit a land mine. According to Moore there were seven men atop the carrier when it exploded. Moore and the others in the unit who had survived the blast had to pick up their remains. “They were blown to bits,” he said, choking back the tears. “We picked them up in little pieces and put them on a poncho that we had spread out on the ground.” At this point Moore stopped and wiped the tears that streamed from his eyes.
“The thing about it was,” he continued, “some of those men were close to having their time in and were planning on going home.”
He told of other incidents that are far too gruesome to print, even in a newspaper. Things that nightmares are made of - Moore’s nightmares and the nightmares that plague many other veterans who will never forget the horrors of war.
“I was able to put most of it out of my mind for a while,” Moore said, “But it seems that the older I get, the worse the nightmares are.” He says he doesn’t usually remember all of what he dreams but he always wakes up shaking and covered in a cold sweat. “It’s all a part of being a veteran,” he said. “It’s just something we have to live with.”
Moore came home in 1971. His rank was a Specialist 4th Class. He earned a National Defense Service Medal; Vietnam Service Medal with three bronze stars; Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal; Combat Infantryman Badge; Army Commendation Medal; and Sharpshooter. He says that despite those who protested the war and the lack of support from many Americans he never lost respect for his country. “I would do it all again if they called on me to go,” he said.
So as this Veteran’s Day approaches, let’s remember to honor all those who have fought and died for our country. Let’s honor all those who have sacrificed a part of themselves defending our flag in wars both past and present.
Let’s tip our hats to the veterans of WWII, and continue to honor and pray for our troops who are still fighting in the Middle East. And may we never again fail to honor our Vietnam Veterans, those who came home and those who didn’t.
It’s not whether we agree with the war or not…it’s because they served with honor and bravery that we owe them a “thank you” and a tip of our hats for their sacrifice and their allegiance to the United States of America.
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May God Bless our Veterans today and always. Thank you for all that you have sacrificed for us .
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Tags: Veterans, Viet Cong, Vietnam, Vietnam conflict
(Now that the campaigning’s done)
Every single waking moment of our lives, we are being inundated by some type of advertising, whether it’s from our own families or the corner grocery store. Even when we go out for a quiet drive in our cars, we are bombarded by billboards and roadsigns. Radio, TV, newspapers, magazines, and even our wall calenders are attempting to sell us something we don’t need at a price we can’t afford. And the funny part is…more often than not, we buy whatever is being advertised.
Spending has gotten so out of control that some people are actually competing to see who can pay the most for the things they buy. While the price tag may have been removed from an item, the designer mark on it screams “Look at me. I’m rich and brain damaged!” And we wonder why our dollar isn’t worth as much as it used to be.
And it seems that the uglier an item is, the more it costs. Hideous is almost unaffordable except to movie stars and organized crime bosses. As proof of this theory let’s take a look at the more expensive makes of automobiles. They begin to get uglier around the $50,000.00 mark and the ugly increases along with the price all the way up to the hideous $104,750.00 model. Most of these obscenely expensive automobiles look like they’ve already been rear-ended by a semi and the dash panel resembles something from the Starship Enterprise.
Also, according to The National Insurance Crime Bureau these cars were not the ones stolen most often. Most of the cars stolen during the year were valued at under fifteen thousand each. Apparently crooks don’t even like these vehicles.
Then we have the expensive clothing and accessories designed mostly for the high-browed Hollywood set. Like those gag-inducing gem-studded platform shoes, that sell for around $1,000.00 a pair, and the dresses that look like a potato sack and cost thousands of dollars each. The cost of all that ugly in one place alone would be enough to feed a small country for a year. And can someone tell me, who in their right mind would pay $1250.00 for a purse made of canvas, that’s almost large enough to carry a set of car keys, a cell phone and a tube of lip gloss.
Are there people out there who actually pay that much for a tiny purse? Of course it does have the designer’s initials on the bag, so that’s why it costs so much more to manufacture. Never mind the fact that a two year old could have designed it better. Designer initials don’t come cheap. Oh and you can get an ugly matching key chain for a little over three hundred bucks. (with the designer’s initials on it too of course).
When one group of people throw money around like it’s made out of paper (well it is actually, but still… ) this type of wasteful spending makes it hard on the rest of us. These people have so many dollars that they have to get rid of some of them to make room for their next bundle. Especially since those tiny ugly purses aren’t big enough to hold more than one bill at a time.
Then there’s the recent political campaign funds. Billions of dollars have been spent on advertising so the candidates can tell the voting public whatever it is that they think it wants to hear. And will they keep those promises? Can a dog fly?
I wonder if everyone else is like me, relieved that the election is over? Now there’ll be no more political ads to suffer through. It’ll all be back to the same old thing - looking at ugly purses, shoes and cars.
I know the owners of the television networks will be sad to see all that ad revenue gone. But the good news is, with all the money they’ve made for running those political ads, I bet they can now afford to go out and buy something really, really ugly…like…maybe Rosie O’Donnell?
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Now on to Humor-Blogs for the funny stuff
For 364 days each year, we as adults must act accordingly. We are expected to walk, talk and function as befitting a sane and responsible member of the human race. We’re supposed to act in a refined manner and not resort to doing anything that might be remotely embarrassing to ourselves or to our families.
This is the reason why I love Halloween. It’s the one holiday that allows us to let down our hair and act like children again, if only for a day.
Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. I always had loads of fun when I was a kid, but I think I enjoy it even more as an adult. It’s the only time of the year that I’m allowed to act like total goober and not have other people think I’m completely crazy. Or if they do think I’m crazy I don’t really care.
Here is one of my favorite things I do on Halloween. I dress up in a funny costume, maybe something like a very old person, a celebrity, or even an animal. I wear one of those full-head latex masks, and clothing that nobody will recognize. Then I find a group of total strangers and go stand in the middle of them and act like I’m someone they know. They immediately start trying to figure out who I am.
After they’ve named everybody they know, laughed until their sides hurt, and are ready to give up, I remove my mask. The bewildered look on their faces is priceless. They are standing there with a big question mark above their heads because they still have no idea who I am. It’s a real hoot.
I love treating the kids too. They are so cute and funny in their costumes. One year a little boy who was wearing a mask like “Jason” from the movie “Friday the 13th” kept coming to my door several times. On his third visit, I mentioned the fact that I had just given him a treat. He told me he was the Jason of “Friday the 13th, the sequels” and he would be back again and again and again….
If you need to be away from your home on Halloween you can just set the candy out and let the kids help themselves. Here is an idea for a note you can leave on your door:
“Tomb it may concern,
We’re sorry we can’t come to the door but the vampire is taking a coffin break, and the ghouls have gone to the store for more grosseries. If you ring the door bell and a skeleton answers that means no body is at home. Help yourself to the candy but remember to leave some for the ghosts who are goblin up the other trick-or-treaters.
Happy Halloween.”
Of course you may return to your house and find toilet paper in your trees and egg on your windows but that’s the cost of being away on Halloween and leaving such a lame note on your door.
A friend of mine told me that she had moved next door to a vampire. She says she hasn’t been sleeping well since she moved. When I asked her why, she said the vampire’s coffin was keeping her awake. According to my friend, those same neighbors just bought a new car. She said they told her it was the new 2009 Ford Blood Vessel.
And if that isn’t bad enough, her other neighbors are zombies. Geesh! What a neighborhood.
She said the zombies were very polite and well mannered though. She heard the mother telling the children not to eat their dinner with their fingers. But then later she heard the mother tell them they could eat the fingers for dessert.
So anyway, if you do go out on Halloween remember to take along a bottle of cough syrup in case you get chased by a coffin. If you find yourself in this situation, don’t fly off the handle like a fast witch on a slow broom, simply throw the medication at the coffin and it’ll make it stop. It says so right there on the label.
Have a Happy Halloween, Everyone. Remember to stay safe, play fair and most of all be a total goober. This is your last chance until next year.
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Humor-Blogs is giving treats this year…they’re called “giggles”. Go get some
Tags: costumes, Halloween, trick or treat, witches
Have you ever seen someone buy a pet for a child who promised to take care of it, feed it and love it forever? Then after a couple of months the child tires of the pet and begins to ignore it? Maybe these people should begin by buying pets that are disposable.
Goldfish make excellent starter pets for your kids. Most goldfish don’t live to be very old, especially if the kids take the fish out for a romp in the yard with them. They’re also virtually maintenance free. You don’t have to bathe them. (the fish - not the kids! )
When was the last time you said to your gold fish, “Rover,” (or some other fish name) “you need a bath, your fur is matted, and you stink!” And you never need to trim their toenails and they don’t get fleas. At least I’ve never seen a gold fish scratching its ears. And as far as I know they don’t need to get vaccinated for Rabies.
However, if given excellent care, some gold fish can live a long life. I read where one goldfish stayed around for 43 years. Of course it was one of those little cheddar snack gold fish and it was hidden inside a sofa cushion.
A large fish tank is better for the gold fish to live in rather than a tiny glass fish bowl. How would you like it if you had to go round and round in a circle, day in and day out, spending your life in a tiny space surrounded by bits of trash and debris? It would be like placing people inside little cubicles and expecting them to be productive…oh that’s right…they already do that, don’t they? They’re called “offices”. In fact that’s where I am at the moment.
It’s almost lunchtime. Where did I put my fish flakes?
Now get back to your cubicle at Humor-Blogs - this instant!!!
Tags: goldfish, office cubicle, pets
My life has been an endless struggle full of frustrations and challenges, but I finally found a hair color I like.
I woke up this morning, rolled over in bed, grabbed hubby’s shoulders and shook him soundly. “Wake up, Honey. There’s an old lady in the house.”
He opened one eye and grinned at me. “Tell her it’s her turn to make the coffee.”
I jumped out of bed and into my jeans then sprinted to the bathroom. When I looked in the mirror I sighed. Isn’t it a blessing that wrinkles don’t hurt?
Today is my birthday. I’ve finally reached the age where I’m too old to tell anyone my real age. (actually I just turned 55 but don’t tell anybody else. Okay?)
According to Isidore Kozminsky in his book titled “Numbers: Their Meaning and Magic,” the number 55 is symbolised as “The Sword” which signifies energy and triumph. The number denotes mental penetration which “pierces the darkness of ignorance as a sharp sword pierces a dense body“.
Whatever!
I never thought I’d live to see the day that I would be as old as the speed limit which was federally-imposed on all U.S. highways until 1995. We used to refer to driving the speed limit as “doing double nickles”. So I suppose you could say that just for today I’m doing double nickles on the dime, which means exactly 55, no more no less.
Growing up in the fifties and sixties was fun. During this particular era the young people went sort of crazy. Everyone was tuning in, turning on and dropping out. We were all about love and peace and “finding ourselves”. The fact is, most of us couldn’t even find our way home with a flashlight and a compass, much less find ourselves.
And we thought we were the coolest things since Popsicles. Remember those tie-dyed T-shirts, bell bottom jeans, love beads and “granny glasses”? Were they not the most hideous things ever? And everyone had flowing hair, flowing beards, and wore Roman sandals. Of course I didn’t have a beard, but I did have flowing hair.
In 1969 I was 16 years old. I was five feet four inches tall and my hair was four feet long. I wore it loose and whenever someone was sitting in the back seat of the car I had to wrap it around my neck to keep them from stepping on it. I thought I looked “groovy”, but in fact I looked just like Cousin It from the Adams Family.
I married my first “wasband” in 1972. Okay, so I’ve been married four times. As a matter of fact I keep all my divorce papers in a drawer in my office. I call them “the ex files”. I suppose you could say that I’m an idiot. I kept thinking the preacher was saying “till debt do us part”.
Stop looking at me like that!
Remember those mood rings that were so popular during the seventies? The stone changed color according to the mood of the person wearing the ring. I bought one for “first wasband”. Those things actually worked. The original color of the stone was black, but when he was in a good mood the stone turned blue, and if he was relaxed it turned white, and whenever he was angry it left a big purple bruise under my left eye.
But enough with the reminiscing. Let’s get back to the present.
Speaking of presents, Hubby bought me a beautiful diamond necklace and the sweetest birthday card! Then he went hunting. He also made me a birthday cake to keep me company until he gets back. And nothing says “I love you” quite like that.
A lot of women I know say they don’t celebrate their birthday. They say they don’t like to be reminded of their age. Me? I love birthdays. After all, the secret to living a long life is to keep on having birthdays for as many years as you can.
The only scary part is that after midnight tonight I’ll be over the speed limit!
***Author’s Note: I actually wrote this column on October 7 which is my birthday. I didn’t know until I was reading an article online that I share a birthday with Vladimer Putin!***
Go on over to Humor-Blogs now. You know you want to.
Tags: 1960s, granny glasses, love beads, speed limit
