Maus In Da Haus… Again!!

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Do not be afraid, but the title is pronounced “Mouse in da house.” This does not mean that I have rodents running around in my home. No, it refers to a delicious comfort food that I’ve shared on this silly blog thing from time to time. It’s really quite a nourishing and wonderfully satisfying mixture of mashed potatoes, barley, kale, and onions. I know I’ve written about this before but I don’t care because it’s still winter and this is a fabulous winter dish and besides it gave me the excuse to throw in a run-on sentence which is not terribly long but I’m pretty sure it qualifies as being run-on because it keeps going on and on and OK now it’s time to quit with the too long sentence awreddy.

Our dear friend Ruthie will be coming over in a week or so and is very much looking forward to enjoying this delicacy with us. And since I like to be different, this year’s Maus will be blue. Well more accurately grey with a touch of blue. It can’t be helped, you see… I grew Adirondack Blue potatoes; and they are blue inside and out! Not sure, but I have a feeling Mrs. Spoelma might get a kick out of blue Maus.

Mrs. Who Now??

God bless Mrs. Spoelma (pronounced “SPOOLma”), the “Hollander” (Michigan term for Dutch) lady who lived next door to us when we first moved to Muskegon. She and her husband were often outside in the yard, and we’d have many a conversation across the fence. That was 50 years ago (wow!!), and one couldn’t ask for nicer neighbors.

When our daughter came into the world, she started bringing us food. Most often, she brought an odd mashed potato dish we’d never had before. “This is Maus,” she said when she brought over the first batch. “It’s an old family recipe: mashed potatoes, kale, and barley. Oh and a little bit of onion, too.” It was simply wonderful. Perfect food for a couple of tree huggers with a brand new baby. Free food is always pretty doggoned perfect if you ask me; especially when it’s delicious. “Maus” is not merely wonderful as a side dish for meat and another vegetable, maybe even some gravy. It’s also especially yummy the following day, reheated with an over easy egg or two on top. MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

When I first wrote about Maus a few years ago I scoured the web for a recipe that resembled this remarkable dish. No such luck. After many variations of the words potato, mashed, kale, barley, and Dutch, I found several interesting cooking ideas but nothing that resembled what our dear Mrs. Spoelma made. After a little trial and error, I think I’ve been able to replicate the flavor pretty closely.

Because it’s so doggoned yummy, I feel it’s my duty to share the basics with you. I love to cook but I rarely follow any recipe exactly. Maus is no exception; but without further ado here is a rudimentary description. Try this and alter the quantities of barley, kale, and onions to your liking next time.

Maus: Delicious Mashed Potatoes, Kale, Barley and Onion

Ingredients:

Potatoes : enough to fill a 6 quart pot a bit more than halfway when diced

Barley: ½ cup hulled barley (pearled barley is OK but not as nutritious as hulled)

Kale: 3 – 4 tightly packed cups, chopped

Onions: one large onion or 4 or 5 small onions, diced

½ stick of salted butter

½ cup of milk

salt to taste

Potatoes (I don’t peel them), barley, and kale will be cooked in separate pots.

Add more than enough water to the barley to cover, at least 2 inches higher than the barley. Boil the barley until tender, then drain, cover and set aside.

Add 1 cup water to the kale, and cover. Bring to boil, remove from heat after 2 or 3 minutes boiling. Toss the onions in with the kale and cover again, let that sit for about 5 minutes. The heat will cook the onions just enough. Drain, then set aside.

Wash and dice enough potatoes to fill a 6 quart pot a bit more than half way (we leave the skins on). Fill with water till the potatoes are barely covered, and boil until tender, drain. Add butter and mash, adding milk and a dash or so of salt along the way. When the potatoes are creamy, add barley, kale and onions to the potatoes and mush together until mixed thoroughly. OK, you’re done! Now, don’t just stand there, it’s time to eat!!

By the way, this has nothing to do with Mouseketeers…

An Important Letter To All Zagnerbynes

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Dear Zandenbiffles,

This is to inform you that although you are now finished singing “Jingle Bells” while gargling potato salad, there will be no further ritual slayings of moldy couches in your behalf. The local law enforcement agencies have informed me that this practice is being filmed and used for soft drink commercials. We have therefore decided to laugh loudly in their faces; and tell them that their mommies are singing marshmallow songs while they go to the potty.

Ha! Ha-ha on those guys! Ha!

I was in the store yesterday and they ran out of fried pickles again. Very upset, I was, to enjoy the lasting flavors of well done deep fried dills no more:

Deep fried dills,

Deep fried dills.

One a-penny, two a-penny,

Deep fried dills.

When the fish come to visit,

We stick them in their gills.

One a-penny, two a-penny,

Deep fried dills.

That was something that came to me in a dream.

I remember chewing on a package of freshly fried pickles, wondering how they would taste if only I could get the stupid bag open. I finally laid the package down, and my cats promptly threw it in the woodstove. They have less than fond memories of me mixing diced dills into their Nine Purina Frisky Lives brand “Tuna, Oatmeal, And Dumplings; Specially Made Edible, Great, and Magically Awesome” (abbreviated T.O.A.D. S.M.E.G.M.A.) dinner in a can. They love that stuff. Personally, I don’t see how they can eat that crap.

Well, enough about delicious foods.

Let’s talk about the pajama crisis, shall we? Unfortunately, as I’m sure you are aware, the supply of pajamas has fallen far short of the demand. Many people have been improvising to overcome the shortage, using household items to fabricate sleepwear. Paper shopping bags seem to be the most popular material, but I have heard numerous complaints of the tape working loose during the night and sticking to rather embarrassing places.

This is easily remedied, of course, by first coating the skin liberally with petroleum jelly to avoid having the tape stick. Another solution is to spray yourself from head to toe with cooking spray just before bedtime. Where there’s a will, there’s a large soggy donut, I always say. Besides, Burger King bags make nice hats. Try it sometime. Take the food out first. Or not!! Perhaps you’d like to be called silly names like: you crazy Food-Head! Onion Ring Eyes! Here, come here and let me give you a Hamburger Haircut! I’m sorry. I don’t normally hurl food-based name insults in such a molecular manner.

I don’t know what came over me.

OK, so now I’m smelling something, but during the same time span during the exact same instance of momentary quiet solitude that I smelled whatever it was during a moment of silent reflection, and I could see myself in your china. That’s very sparkly, if I must say so myself. If I must not, please tell me so before tomorrow. Tell me something right now, but save some of it for a surprise. I like surprises. SURPRISE!! Were you surprised? I wasn’t, and I couldn’t even see the word until I typed it!

There’s something to ponder now, isn’t it? Words are invisible until they are seen. We can talk invisibly, especially over the phone. But people who talk are not necessarily invisible; except sometimes. I mean, when someone who is not blind says, “I never get to see you anymore,” does this mean I am vanishing? Holy cow, that scares me! Wait, I have to go check a mirror!/a…,D>AffL”AFsd-0fop ;, 112 alright, cat, get off the keyboard! Can’t I even do an invisibility check without you messing with the computer??

Well, it’s OK. I can see myself, and although I appear to be a little less than three-dimensional, the mirror says I’m there. I grabbed my nose just to make sure. Didn’t pick it though. If I did, I sure as heck wouldn’t tell you anyway.

Now, my friends, is the time for me to stop. My Silly Battery is oozing strange powdery wooden camel hairs, and that means I must change into my Rugman suit and chase the evil Mog-Woller out of the pillow factory. Don’t forget to tell yourself something before you forget to remember not to forget about whatever it is you were supposed to remember. Where are my socks? They said hello to me this morning. Oh nevermind.

MAY LOVE SURROUND YOUR SOUL WITH GREAT WARMTH AT ALL TIMES.

Sincerely and Wholeheartedly yours,

Vigniss Pefflewonk

a.k.a. “Slush Fund Eleanor”

OK! Let’s watch some silly streamings…

So Sick Of Corporate Ick

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I’m pretty sick up and fed with all these gigantic corporations who care very much about the bottom line and very little about the likes of us. It’s really getting ridiculous… so much influence on the kind of shows we watch, what kind of news we see, hear or read. Reminds me of “the good old days” when I was working. Our department got some pretty sad news one day. Jobs that currently belonged to nine of my work friends would be outsourced beginning the following year. Wasn’t really a surprise to me. After working in the corporate universe for nearly 40 years; I had acquired a feel for such things. The sad result, of course, was the disruption my friends would experience. And I, being a caring kind of guy, felt very badly for them. Call me idealistic, but in my professional opinion, it never has to be this way. Corporations can make their money and still make employees feel valued. With rare exception though, this is not the way of the corporate world.

But what do I know??

At least my friends got a couple months notice. That could be considered kind, I suppose. I’m sure there was a cost savings to the company to have an outside service replace these employees. In the process, the Upper Crust always seemed to make sure their pockets were nicely lined with large bonuses. Of course, this wasn’t unique to our company, it’s become common all over the world. Importance of profits far outweigh any concern for the employees’ well being. If it weren’t for labor unions, all underlings would be treated even worse than they are now.

Reminds me of the Dr. Seuss book, “The Lorax.” The character called the Once-ler is confronted about the damages done by the rampant growth of his business. His company’s fortune thrives on materials taken from Truffula trees, which also happen to be the primary food source for creatures called the Bar-ba-loots. As the Truffula trees are over harvested, the Bar-ba-loots begin to starve, and suffer from “Crummies in tummies.”

The Once-ler’s response: “…business is business! And business must grow, regardless of Crummies in Tummies you know.”

Business is business… ain’t that the truth??

Of course, those of us whose necks missed the chopping block couldn’t help but wonder who was next. Nobody loves these kinds of changes, including me. However, my life experiences gave me tools to be a little better at keeping the negative fire storms out of my head. Being annoyed and sad is already uncomfortable enough. My magnifying mind can, if let loose, really run with all this and build a grudge that becomes harmful to me and those around me. I’m truly grateful to have learned that if I allow anger and resentment to fester in my heart, I’m basically poisoning myself. Being livid about things over which I have no control is about as effective as eating a poison pill and expecting someone else to die.

Of course my work friends and I tossed various scenarios about and when I pondered out loud about if (or more likely when) it would be my turn; they offered suggestions like finding an IT head hunter or maybe doing computer consulting work. Bless them… they were concerned for me. When they were done I mentioned that I’d been a slave to technology for over 40 years. I thanked them warmly and let them know in no uncertain terms that I was really ready to do something a little different. I would have been just fine to do something that may pay less but will feed my soul. Perhaps somewhere like Goodwill, and help those less fortunate than me become a bit more self-sufficient. Possibilities are only limited by how open my mind will be.

Thankfully I was able to retire before my particular job was outsourced (which it was). As my retirement grew near, I decided to show them guys (the corporate big shots)!! I continued to work at the job and just tried to be happy!! I bet they never saw that coming!! Well OK they didn’t care… but I did my darnedest to avoid dipping into the poison pot about corporate dysfunction. After all, the only thing I had any control over is how I reacted to all these “wonderful” things that were changing at the workplace.

Even today, (maybe especially today) when my serenity alarm goes off, I need to remind myself to run through my “gratitude list.” I am healthy and I have the love of an amazing woman. Both of us know what it’s like to lose a spouse after many years of a good marriage. I’m convinced those God People (whoever they are) helped us find each other. On top of that, I have cars that work, a nice home, plenty to eat. I have loving relationships with our offspring, relatives and friends. Life really is very, very good.

No poison pill for me thanks. We all have the right to be happy, and I’ve been taught the only way to achieve that is to take care of myself.  I need to make gratitude my attitude.  I need to say “thank you” to The People Upstairs (you know, those God People) regularly.  Sometimes it takes a bit of work to pull it off, but life is much more peaceful when I succeed. Who am I fooling… I need to work at staying calm and grateful pretty much every day, and that’s very OK with me.

Can you tell I’m practicing?

OK.  Time for a chuckle… I did some hunting and found this gem by Monty Python.  A good way to poke fun at the corporate universe and its absurdity!  But again, that’s just my professional opinion…


Spring Really IS Coming

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Been a lot of whining around these here Beautiful West Michigan parts lately. Folks have been crying and rolling on the floor, thrashing their feet about and all such nonsense. “When’s it gonna warm up?!?!?! I’m sick up and FED with all this cold and snowy weather!! I can hardly wait to start mowin’ my lawn awreddy for cryin’ out loud!!! WAHHH WAAAHHH WAAAAAAHHHH! “

Crybaby kaka-roaches…

Holy moly I haven’t thought about that in a long time… when we was kids in Noo Yawk we’d sing to the whiny babies:

Crybaby kaka-roach!

Wash your face in gravy!

Wrap it up in bubble gum

And sell it to the Navy!!

Made absolutely no sense, but when we were very young it seemed to have a nice ring to it. Oh, and don’t forget the “Nyaa nyaa na boo boo!!” for good measure!!  Anyway, to all youse whiny kids out there who are all upset that spring is taking so long, I have a news flash for you: too much warm too early makes badness with the crops!! Sheesh!!

That was technical talk, by the way…

If you’re old like me, you surely remember that winter came in around Thanksgiving and stayed icy cold until the end of March or so. Then the weather would gradually warm up and ease into summer. A few years back, unfortunately, we had several 80 degree days in March, which is simply not natural. Not for these parts anyhow.

Consequently, all the fruit trees woke up and said, “Huh?? Time to make babies?? OK!!” And of course they bloomed way too early. Usually we get enough fruit here to ship out to the world and still have enough to stash in various cold storage facilities. But that year, the inevitable frost came with a vengeance and nuked much of West Michigan’s fruit crops. That caused me to become an “apple snob.” I’d rather be sad and miss my Michigan apples than buy from far away. Now I know the farmers in other parts of the country have to make their money, but there’s simply no comparison to the quality of locally grown fruit. I confess that I’ve resorted to buying some Washington (state) apples some years ago. They looked and felt nice, and were crunchy and juicy. Nice, yes? Ummm… well… this apple snob is don’t liking them so good. They remind me of crunchy, juicy water globes with a subtle apple aftertaste somewhere in the dingle weeds of taste bud world. Takes some effort in the later parts of winter, but I still try to buy Michigan apples.

Good Lord willin’, we’ll have a spring that will be kind to the fruit trees this year. I am always eagerly awaiting the newly picked, simply amazing flavor of local fruits. There’s a cornucopia of yummies we spoiled Michiganders get to enjoy each year. All youse naysayers can bark all you want, but in my professional opinion, climate change is very real. A lot can happen between now and the traditional frost sensitive planting date of Memorial Day. Let’s hope things stay on track.

Fear not, before we know it the spring peepers will be peeping. A sure sign of spring. Then the grass will be clovering and the dandelions will be dandelioning. And yes, we’ll get snow, and then it will be gone, and then it will come back, and then it will melt again; and that’s gonna happen for the rest of our living lives here in Beautiful West Michigan so unfortunately we’ll just have to get used to it whether or not we enjoy writing run-on sentences that keep going past their expiration date, but at least they don’t smell bad or get gooey and mess on the carpet.

Thank you.

How’s about a nice springtime cartoon or two??

Yes, have some.

A Little Silly Sunshine For YOU

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Well holy moley. This year has started off with much weeping and gnashing of teeth, and I don’t know about youse kids but this here kid is not only about to embark upon a run-on sentence, but I’m gonna repeat the Serenity Prayer at least 187 times per second, possibly for the next 3 years if necessary unless things in our world change abruptly which of course doesn’t seem likely so I guess I’ll just do that prayer I just mentioned and in case you are don’t knowing what it is I will present it to you at this time:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

And then I read / listen to / watch the news and I say, “Oy yoy yoy!!” and I pray some more.

But on the other hand, I hope you have 5 fingers but even if you do not, I still love you. And because of that, I thought I’d share some very silly thoughts that came out of my brain and onto the keyboard during my work years. My work friends and I were in the IT computer universe, so the job got a bit hectic at times. In other words, stress would cause us to roll on the floor while drooling and singing songs backwards.

Those of you who know me are aware that I am often silly. Therefore, my “go-to” reaction to stress is to write nonsensical ha ha stuff. Text messaging software is a marvelous tool for “spreading the cheer,” so to speak, and by golly that’s just what I did. I sent at least one silly message a day to many of my friends, using cut-and-paste to plop my silly stuff, one text at a time, to my peers. Was this a good use of work time?? YES!! My professional opinion: if work is no fun, find another job, am I right??

One of my friends asked me, “Are you saving these?? You could make a book!!” So lo and behold, I made a document and started saving them. So without any further ado, I’m gonna share some with you. I’ve categorized them with a little title on each little ditty. Hope these help you stay distracted for just a little while.

OK… here goes:

Mastodons

In prehistoric times, Neanderthals employed Mastodons plow their fields.  However, they also learned that Mastodons only understood “ugga bugga,” a language that never existed.

Vote For Me!!

In the upcoming 2026 election, I’m running for Resident of The United States. Although I have 71 years of experience, I don’t care about the number of votes.  Just kick in to my fund raising campaign at www.kakahead.com

My Cat

By applying mustard on my cat’s eyebrows, I can feel confident his festive appearance will give him great joy among his peers.

Barking At The Moon

Tonight I plan to enjoy a nice dinner of Cream of Dogfood Soup with a grilled Kibbles ‘n Bits sandwich.  All this will precede a raucous 3 hour session of barking at the moon.

Mustard

Not sure who the culprit is so I’m asking everyone:  please stop substituting my mustard with the Purple Sludge.  The fridge is starting to vibrate between 2 and 3:37 AM.

Shrimp

Tomorrow’s breakfast:  Please prepare some shrimp on the half shell with a side dish of deep fried moth tongues.  I’ll wash it down with a nice avocado / eggplant smoothie; after which I’ll run for the men’s room.  Thank you!!

Noodles

None of my noodles fizz anymore.  Therefore, I have concluded that my pasta harvesting rake is defective.

Growing Hair

I’ve decided to grow my hair out of follicles instead of pulling it out of those tiny access hole thingies.  Besides, everyone knows that chocolate does not grow on fleas.

Raisin Bran

My least favorite food additive is carbon fiber monoxide.  It’s supposed to keep me “regular,” but it’s made by filtering auto exhaust through a bowl of raisin bran.  It’s also illegal to make this product everywhere except on the subtropical island of Okka Pitoo.

Used Muffins

During my retirement I may need some supplemental income.  I will have used muffins for sale by the pound.  These are multipurpose:  serve them to your least favorite people or add them to the soil in flowerbeds or beneath shrubs (not recommended in the vegetable garden).

And last but probably also least…

Happy Friday

Happy Friday!!  May your ears enjoy delicious flavors; and may your nostrils flutter softly in the breeze.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

Well I hope that helped. Just to make sure, here comes a silly cartoon.

The Cows That Migrated To Mars

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Several billion years ago (or so it seems) it became tradition that when our grandsons visit, I’d ask for their input to write a silly story for “Happy Friday!!!” One day I asked Ollie, “What should I write about tonight?” “The cows who migrated to Mars,” he replied. So here’s what came out of my fingers to the keyboard:

Once upon ago, there were two cows named Ursula and Henry. Well OK, Henry was actually a bull, but once you get done reading this story you’ll probably think it was just a bunch of bull anyway. Anyway, Ursula and Henry grew tired of farm life and decided to seek adventure in distant lands. This all started one night when they were in the barn, talking about their day.

“Yep, I ate a few bushels of grass today,” Henry said. “Had some clover in it… not too bad I guess.”

Ursula chimed in, “Well I was totally annoyed when I was grazing in the northeast corner. I took a big bite from a yummy patch of rye grass and got mobbed by grasshoppers!! They just hopped right into my mouth!! I swallowed 8 of them before I could say ‘ptooey!!’ “

Henry tried to comfort Ursula. “Well, I wanna take you on a vacation so both of us can get a little change of scenery,” he said. “Sounds good!!” Ursula replied. “But let’s go somewhere different for a change. I’m tired of just going to the lower 40 acres of the farm.” Henry looked outside the barn window at a glowing heavenly object. “You see that really bright star?” he asked Ursula. “That’s not a star at all,” he continued. “That’s Mars. Let’s go to Mars!!” Ursula said, “and just how do you propose we get there??” Henry answered, “I’ll build a transporter!! I’ve seen them on TV… you just push some buttons and you disappear… then reappear somewhere else!!”

Ursula was skeptical, to say the least. But then she remembered when Henry made those cool water balloons using nothing but 5 pounds of bubble gum and some baking powder. She decided that since Henry was her boyfriend, she’d support him no matter what; and she gave him that reassuring wink and a nuzzle and off he went into his workshop behind the barn.

For several nights, after long days in the pasture, Henry could be heard working diligently. Clanging, grinding, hammering, sawing… even some Public Radio shows being played in the background. Then one night there was a loud CLAP!! while the lights all went dim; followed instantly with a gleeful shout from Henry. “Holy COW!! It works!!” Ursula heard his yell and shouted back, “hey buddy, watch your language!!” Henry wasn’t even embarrassed; but came to get Ursula for a demonstration.

“Are you sure about this??” Ursula pleaded. “Don’t worry,” Henry urged. “Just step on that little platform and I’ll join you when I get the coordinates programmed into the computer.” Ursula reluctantly complied, and watched intently as Henry twirled knobs and tapped the keyboards. Then he said, “OK!!” and scampered onto the platform where Ursula was waiting. Suddenly, their bodies began to vaporize and vanished from sight.

Within a few milliseconds, Ursula and Henry were standing in the middle of a small town they had never seen before. Both had heard there was life on Mars, but neither of them expected things to look very similar to their own home town. There was a Mars National Bank, and even a flying saucer parked near the road!! “Wow, Henry!! This is way cool!! Who would have imagined that life on Mars was so much like that on Earth??!!” Ursula bellowed (hey, she is a cow, after all). “I know, right??” said Henry. “Hey!!” he continued, “that Martian looks a lot like a human!! Let’s go ask him what part of Mars this is!!”

“Excuse me,” Henry blurted, “can you tell us what part of Mars this is??”

The human “Martian” answered, “Ummm OK… a talking bull!! Well sonny, you’re in Mars, Pennsylvania.” Henry didn’t know what to say. He gave Ursula a rather embarrassed look, then turned back to the human “Martian” and could only muster one word.

“Oh.”

Actually, their journey was exactly like the one Gumby enjoyed, only completely different.

My New Years Revolutions for 2026

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Greetings, fellow Song Yodelers,

Here’s wishing you the Happiest Merry of all Years, with dotted Ts and crossed eyes following all of your newly configured radial sandwich flavors.  It is very and ultra important that we greet this new year with pledges of doing remarkable things.  As you may already know, pledges are words that express an intent to do something.  Politicians know the value of a pledge.  They use them to get elected and, once in office, they do what they bloody well want.  But when you come right down to it, when people make promises about this or that at the beginning of a brand new year, they have a lot in common with politicians.  Many people make pledges, but how many fulfill them?? 

This I am unable to know.

2025 brought great weeping and gnashing of teeth for many of us. Although many thought they were voting for positive change, the changes that have been made are, in my professional opinion, too often a bit less than positive. There do seem to be some cracks forming in the walls of corruption, but all too often the same old stories persist:

1) The rich get richer, the poor become more numerous, and the working class gets to pay for all of it; and

29) War is still not the answer, even though all too many people cling to the notion that it can be “morally justified.” I know, I know… “there’s so much evil in the world;” and “we have the right to defend ourselves…” Yada yada yada. My professional opinion: The use of weapons produces a very immediate (albeit tragic) result. However, there will NEVER be lasting peace until we are ready to treat each other with respect; communicate; and persistently work together to address the roots of the issues.

Oh but hey, that stuff takes way too long. Let’s just go bomb somebody.

Oy yoy yoy.

“Tax the rich, feed the poor, till there are no rich no more…”

These kinds of ickyness just give me the warm fuzzy noodle constipation that every mom loves.  But I know that it’s always easier to find fault with others than to look inward, so I thought I’d better lay out a plan for my own self improvement.  Therefore, I beg of each of you to elect me as your next Filibuster Yakkity Yak Doo Dah Day for 2026.  My plan for self bereavement lies below.

Please be not aware that I have regurgitated the following Noo Yeer’s Revolutions:

1)   To remind myself that I need to remember those things which I can’t seem to recall.  

          What was that again?  What was I thinking about…??

R)  To lose weight, gain it back, lose it again, and lose some more until my nostrils can be used for sidewalk painting without fear of changing lanes abruptly.  

          Please pass the pepperoni flakes and the coagulated skim milk.

24) To change lanes abruptly so all weight loss can be vehemently avoided.  

          Watch out for that tree!! It has a scale near it!!

++) To boldly go where no earthworm has ever dined before.  

          Ummm… you gonna eat that compost??

3X) To be nice to all people whenever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.  

          Excuse me sire, your toupee is on fire.  May I stomp it out for you?

T5) To dress in all recyclable clothing, in order to lighten the load on my laundry licking machine.  

          I especially favor the milk jug socks and the recycled string bikini underwear.

Z44) To unite all small countries in a global effort to stop Homer Simpson from eating my cake.

          Alright boys, this is it… you clunk him on the cake eater and I’ll spray him with a completely different shade of yellow.

And finally:

9)  To sing loudly (or sometimes softly, even silently) about how wonderful it is to be alive, ever reminding myself that life really is a joy and that complaining is tantamount to feeding dogfood to caterpillars.  In other words, no matter how badly I think I have it, I am really a wealthy person.  I have received many gifts from the Creator.  As Alistair Sim said in my favorite Christmas movie (Scrooge)  “I don’t deserve to be so happy, but I can’t help it.”  

I suspect that if you are reading this, you are wealthy also.  You don’t think so??  OK smartypants, lemme ask you these:  Do you have a car?  Do you have enough to eat?  Do any of your clothes fit nicely? Do you have friends?  A warm, safe place to sleep?  

If you answered yes to any of those, you are wealthy.  OK??

 So I hereby beseech all of you to have a most Wonderful New Year of this 2026 Universe, and that you discover New Millipedes under every log you roll.  Love your brethren and your cistern.  Love your father, your mother, and your Mother (Earth).  And please, please share what you can with those less fortunate than you are.

And always remember to be kind to yourself and other living things.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

“And now,” as Mr. Cleese used to say, “for something completely different.”

Random Silliness

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Well, I did a horrible thing several days in a row. I watched the news. I also listened to it on the NPR. Then I read my e-mails and got more yukka baroo from the interwebs. I think maybe my cranium might explode, so I will get the skulldrill out of my hatchet bag and click the trigger until the fuzzy pocket linings slide backwards into the snowbank.

I have no intention to apologize, therefore, regarding the following nonsense letter that I dedicate to each of you while I send your pets to their favorite grocery store.

Dear Pasta Snarfers,

Some or none of you may enjoy pasta snarfing, but regardless, I felt it was time to inject some laugh time into my (and hopefully your) day due to the crazy goings-on we are seeing on the radio and hearing on TV; and although you may not be aware of it, all that gives me the ability to insert a time-honored run-on sentence-with hyphens-that don’t-really belong-where I’m-putting them-but I-really-don’t-care because hey, it’s just-for-the-fun of it, ya know??

Please be advised that I will rent you some chocolate ear mite remover if you vow to stop wearing socks for 134 days. Nobody says any other removal tool will have any effect on plant life in Nairobi. Nobody can convince me of any other software in these times of uncertainty and battered hamster hocks. I don’t know who Nobody is, but I hope they’re happy!!

If you don’t want to focus on all the yuckity-poo news screamings, please remain calm and toast your noodles for an inexpensive treat, gently throw spoons to the dog, and use a dust mop for cleaning those hard-to-reach nasal passages. Personally, I really need to quit stuffing donuts in my ears. But they are so soft!!

At least 47 times I wanted to make music, but all I had was a bent kazoo and a drum made of an oatmeal container. The only song I could play was “Doot Doot Bonk.” However, during my years of practicing that broken oboe I was never able to find, I envisioned a small pepper clown foraging in the wilderness. Not sure what the pepper clown was seeking but I know from a complete lack of experience that hidden in the leaf piles there may be invisible ink with which to write secret recipes. I hope there are also returnable bottles available for spare change!! This would give a happy pepper clown great enjoyments of candy and other immune system sanitizers.

Looks like I’ll need to stop eating drywall chips. I thought they would help my tummy’s rancid reflux, but now my hiney seems to think it wants to be a building contractor. After the disintegrating drywall diarrhea disturbance, please come over to our house and enjoy some dust muffins we made several weeks ago. We’ll wash them down with a nice hot cup of Crampers Cream of Toenail Soup, giggle heartily, and run wildly to the nearest sink or other unsuspecting receptacle. We’ll have fun!!

Some of the finest cheeses are kept in my sock drawer. This serves two purposes: A) they are aging nicely and 12) they are giving my socks that “nicely worn” fragrance. Some of the best cheese I’ve ever eaten was not found between my toes. However, if I could learn to play guitar with my feet I could invite my musician friends to a Toe Jam.

Perhaps a poem should be inserted at this point…

Gravy
by Me
Gravy in my armpits, syrup on my knees.
Buckets full of macaroni hanging from the trees.
Images of all these things will stick inside my head.
Hope I have a different dream when I go back to bed.

Please remember: You’ll never get anywhere in this life if you don’t go where you are trying to go. If you are already on your way, please stop at the nearest Caffeine Kaboom and tell everyone I said howdy. Also, please get me one of those fizzy cookies.

Thank you.

As you all know, the Holiday Season is upon us. Whether you celebrate by tossing old potatoes into your loved ones’ sock drawers or merely dance delightfully in the department stores, please have a safe and happy Whatever It Is You Celebrate.

I wanna celebrate with Grampy!

I Love You And I’m Glad You Don’t Stink

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Due to my advanced age I’m able to vividly remember when Dionne Warwick sang a most wonderful song called “What The World Needs Now.” The lyrics are simple but beautiful and are pretty much timeless:

“What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It’s the only thing that there’s just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No, not just for some but for everyone…”

Ain’t that the truth!!

OK it’s like this you see: those who know me are very aware that the words “I Love You” come out of my mouth pretty regularly; and I always mean it very sincerely. I mean, I don’t just blurt that out to anyone and everyone, but I’m grateful to say that I have several close friends, blood relatives, and extended family (of choice) members whom I love unconditionally… very, very much. I’m also blessed with several loved ones who understand that I have a goofy sense of humor. One example: several times I’ve told select loved ones, “I love you, and I’m glad you don’t stink.” This is often met with the reply, “Well I do bathe somewhat regularly.”

It is in this spirit that I would now at this very moment like to compose a song that incorporates these words of friendship –

I love you and I’m so very glad you don’t stink
Your bathing is good whether bathtub or sink
Good hygiene is helpful for friendships you know
When I’m near you my nostrils don’t hurt from B.O.

So Thank You

This of course is sung to the tune of “I Love You And I’m Glad You Don’t Stink.”

On the other hand, I not only have five fingers but I have times when someone seems very intent on testing my tolerance level. At least, their behavior disgusts me greatly and I would like for them to be banished to Monster Island with no snacks or drinks. However, because of many life lessons and changes of heart, I’m come to realize that everyone deserves to be loved. The Gods Of The Universe have told all of this in many different ways. One of the more recent lessons came in the form of a person much younger than me.

I’ve often repeated an anonymous quote that describes my favorite concept of God:

“Nature is God’s reflection.”

Oh boy howdy I like that a lot!! I’ve come to believe that there is something to which I refer as God, but I have no idea what it means. I’m pretty sure it’s likely not the old man with the long white beard; but that’s just my professional opinion. No, what it means to me is that I can find God in the critters that swim in a drop of water, or in trees, birds, oceans, streams, you know… all that Mother Nature stuff. So I was again repeating the “reflection” quote to a group of friends and afterward this younger guy comes up to me and says, “So Ken, that means that all of us are part of that reflection, right?” My reply was, “Oh wow!!”

He was right you know.

Long story longer, now I have to remember that even those whom I consider to be horrible people are part of the Creation and they therefore need to be loved. So I can honestly say that I do my best to love them. Like them?? No. They are not invited for dinner. But when they get on my nerves I do my best to step back and pray for them to be happy and healthy all the day long.

Now here comes that other hand with the five fingers… I do love to play and send silly imaginary messages to those whom I’m not liking so much. Some of them are in the news… and I’ll leave it at that. But I relieve stress with silliness. So here is a song for the stinker heads of the world.

Leave me alone or I’ll bite you. You don’t talk to me like that!!
Who do you think you’re talking to? Do you keep poop in your hat??
I’m certain your eyebrows have dandruff, your ears are full of cheese.
If I was just two feet shorter, I’d bite the both of your knees.

So there.

And of course, that song would be sung to the tune of “Leave Me Alone Or I’ll Bite You.”

OK, so believe it or don’t I trust that whoever those God people are know better than me so I’ll keep on sending love to all those tolerance testers, whoever and wherever they are. What the world really does need now is Love Sweet Love, and I’ll do my darndest to spread as much Love as I can.

But some folks just won’t be invited for dinner, ya know?

Perhaps I could invite the tolerance testers for something like this:

Please Yodel More Loudly

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Dear Lamp Cracklers,

Please understand that the term “Lamp Cracklers” is not meant to demean you in any way.  No, no, that is not what responsible friendly greetings are all about.   As you may have observed in the above salutation, I preceded “Lamp Cracklers” with “Dear,” which of course indicates my infection toward all who read this unscientifically formulated group of sentences; which could, I suppose, be considered an essay or perhaps just a mere document, but if any of you realize that the previous glob of text is simply appearing on your screen as a vehicle for the insertion of a run-on sentence, it’s probably true; but then if you are foolish enough to read it out loud I certainly hope to HECK you took a moment to breathe, and if you haven’t HOLY MOLY breathe NOW for goodness sake!!

Thank you.

You see my friends, I am not trying to shame anyone; regardless of their propensity toward (or lack thereof) Lamp Crackling.  But because almost everything in the news has been giving me Intestinal Volcano, I surmised that perhaps a completely nonsensical “Happy Friday!!!” might be therapeutic… at least for me.  As it was during childhood, so it is for me now:  nonsense can help me laugh during difficult times.  After all, I’m simply a child in old man’s clothing; and an occasional silly rant helps me to embrace the age old proverbs for emotional well being:  

“Don’t sweat the petty things, and don’t pet the sweaty things.”

And: 

“As the frogs say, ‘Time’s fun when you’re having flies.’ “

And of course:

“You can pick radishes before they are ripe and they will still be red.”

In spite of all this (and in spit of everything else), it has been brought to my attention that none of you are sleeping in the snowbanks efficiently.  Perhaps you are unaware of the unhealthful benefits of Snowplow Surprise that can only be realized when the road commission truck buries your sleeping bag in freshly fallen slush!  Believe you me, there is absolutely nothing that compares to a soggy awakening of such magnetism!  I mean, there you are, soundly snoring loudly during your recurring “Oh no, I ate three ounces of crunch bugs again” dream, when the snowplow whizzles past Uncle Fossilhead’s mailbox (where you’ve been sleeping since October), when you hear that ear-pickling scraping sound and then “BLAPP!!” your snowbank slumbering spot is poofled with road mush and ice cribblings.  

NOW will you remember to wear rain gear over your parka???  I guess time will tell!!!

In closing, my Dear Cramp Lacklers, next time the snowplow forgets to clean your sock drawer, please, PLEASE yodel more loudly to prevent any gradual injuries that may be caused by tasting all those crunch bugs in three part harmony.

Sincerely Yours and / or Someone Else’s,

Nerg Sneffmonken

a.k.a. “Runs With Wooden Spoons”