I’m not afraid admit it: I’m an antique. When we were kids, Mom would literally tell us “go watch television” to get us out of her hair. Mind you this was mostly when it was too crummy to go outside; but we grew up spending some time in front of the TV.
When family life got stressful, I found myself clinging to the relief provided by good old black and white TV programs and movies. I mostly enjoyed black and white programs because, well, that’s all we had at our house until well into the ‘70s.
Abbott and Costello, The Three Stooges, Laurel and Hardy, the Marx Brothers, oh and of course there was Our Gang, the Bowery Boys, Bug Bunny, Felix the Cat, Betty Boop…
I could go on for a very long time.
I count myself as one of a privileged generation who were blessed to be wowed by the old time greats, yet also blessed by newer talents of today.
But when life gets really icky, I find myself reaching for the Three Stooges or Marx Brothers DVDs. Or maybe Monty Python. OK, Monty Python episodes were not filmed in glorious black and white, but you get the idea.
So there I was, 10,000 feet in the air, no plane, no parachute… oh wait… different story.
So there I was, whining about the woes of the world, being grumpy, not being very grateful. Silly me, a spoiled American, being grumpy because the world leaders are not behaving exactly the way I know they ought to. Many, MANY people in this world would be very happy to have the high-class problems I have. However, I’m human and therefore I get grumpy from time to time.
For me, one of the best remedies for stress is laughter.
Therefore, I’m going to treat you to one of my favorite black and white stress relievers.
Please remember that it’s always better to be you than for you to be me; and although you can count to it, “eight” is a word.
Rather weird title to a story, right?? I mean, nobody has ever asked whether my car was a professional wrestler. Come to think of it, nobody has ever asked whether my cordless drill is a veterinarian; nor has anyone wondered if my antique radio is related to the Queen of England. And I have absolutely no idea what any of that is all about, but it was fun to write those silly things with my typing fingers.
OK… so one might (or might not) ask, why would I tell all of you that my car is not a professional wrestler? Well you see it’s like this: my car is a minivan named Sienna. I only recently learned that she is female; but when I went to the Google to look up her name, the photo of a woman from Detroit popped up on the side of the screen. Apparently, Sienna the wrestler is quite accomplished in the professional wrestling field. I never met her, but I’m thinking I’d never want to make her angry.
No, my Sienna is from a factory in Princeton, Indiana. A few years ago we found her sitting in a lot in Holland, Michigan. Her appearance was very timely; because at the time my brand new 2001 Chrysler Town and Country was starting to behave rather badly. I don’t know if the Chrysler was a boy or a girl, but I dubbed it “Old Rattle-Bonken” because of the strange noises the suspension made when going over even the smallest bumps. I was hoping to drive it a couple more years, so we got the transmission rebuilt. Then the speedometer started dancing strangely and my brain started worrying about what was next. Therefore, Old Rattle-Bonken was traded in for Sienna.
When we first got the Town and Country, we thought we had something really special. Heated seats, leather interior, electric sliders, no rust… very clean. But then came this crazy Toyota thing in 2016 (I think). All kinds of bells and whistles, many of which I still don’t know how to use. It even warns me when cars are coming if I’m backing up!! Warns me if somebody is next to me in my blind spot!! Has a navigation system!! Moon roof!! VERY QUIET!! One of the quietest cars we’ve ever owned. It’s been serving me well as both an 8 passenger minivan and “truck.”. Its towing capacity is rated at 2500 pounds, so it pulls my utility trailer nicely. I’ve given it a few booboos over the years but it still runs great.
Just like the Chrysler, Sienna has steering wheel controls for the radio. Also has even more… I can connect my smellphone to her brain with bluetooth. Such a marvelous thing to be able to talk on the phone to Uncle Waffleheimer while trying to avoid being killed on the expressway!! Then one day I noticed this strange picture of a face with its mouth open on one of the little buttons on the steering wheel. I pressed it… a menu came up on the dashboard, and a woman started talking to me!!
“Blah blah blah… voice recognition… blah blah commands blah blah help.” I was so amazed I only comprehended bits and pieces of what she was saying. Then she went silent and the menu disappeared from the display screen. My experience with computers started to kick in, and I pressed the button again. More voice command stuff… but this time after she quit talking I said, “Play the CD please.” She replied “disk,” and I answered, “Yes.” Then she said “Yes;” and VOILA!! the CD started to play. Then I said, “FM radio,” and she echoed my command, and I said “yes” and she said “yes” and the FM radio started to play.
Was this cool or what??
Then I got more adventurous: “Tune to 720 AM.” She replied, “Pardon?” Hmm… ok let’s try FM… “Tune to 90.3 FM.” “Pardon?” she responded. I guess some commands just don’t register. Tried to go to the Google again and look for a list of voice commands that work but came up dry. Oh well, I’ll just keep trying. Maybe I’ll scour the interwebs some more to see what I can find. I’ve often wondered how safe some of this high tech car stuff might be, but looks like it might actually be helpful.
OK, my father didn’t really smell of elderberries. But he was the one who first told me about these lovely fruits of Nature when I was very young. I remember when I first tasted them I found them a little less than wonderful. However if you catch them at just the right time they are palatable. Trouble is, the “right time” can slip away very quickly. They ripen slowly over many weeks and then kaboom!! they explode on you as you walk along the trail. Well OK maybe there’s no kaboom!! Seriously, they are only in their prime for a few days and then they become bitter.
Beautiful West Michigan is blessed with lots of water, and elderberries really like living near water. You can see them along the roadsides (and elsewhere of course); large bushes with big white flower clusters that mature into the beautiful dark purple fruits. They should be ready in a few weeks, and they are ready to pick when the stems that support the cluster of berries also turns purple. The trick is to get them before the birds do… but I always leave some for the birds.
Elderberries have been used for eons, both for medicinal and culinary purposes. Personally I’m trying to start a “revival” of the use of elderberries. I say “revival,” because for many moons I would mention to people, “I picked a mess of elderberries over the weekend.” They would smile politely and then ask, “What are elderberries??” Many have heard about them in songs and whatnot, but it seems that the vast majority of people have not noticed them at all, much less picked them.
If you ever get the notion to pick them, DO NOT be silly and try to pick them one at a time. You’ll go crazy I tell you!! You’ll be working for hours and get maybe a few cups of berries. The best way I’ve found is to cut the berry clusters from the plant and drop them in your shopping bag. Those plastic grocery bags from the store are perfect for this, but make sure you take some that don’t have any holes in the bottom. Bring a pair of scissors or maybe a sharp pocket knife and cut the berry cluster at the stem that connects it to the plant. Oh, and as I mentioned earlier, please follow this very important rule: always leave some for the birds.
Thank you.
Then take them home when you get your quota and prepare to spend at least an hour processing about a gallon of berries off the stems and into a container. I find it good meditation to pick up the clusters one at a time and roll the berries off the stem gently with my fingers. Fingers get a bit purple from this, but it’s not permanent. Processing the berries is easy… after I’m done, I put them in a freezer bag and just chuck them in the freezer. When I want to use them, I just bonk them a little to loosen them up and then scoop what’s needed.
So why go through all this hassle? Well folks, there’s simply nothing quite like elderberry pie with a glob of Breyer’s vanilla ice cream on top. Making the pie is at least 197% easy. First of all, I’m not ashamed to admit that I cheat on the crust. I buy the Pilsbury crusts at the store from the dairy case.
Hey if you want to make your own crust, knock yourself out. I mean that figuratively of course. Wouldn’t be very pleasant if you really knocked yourself out. Lots of people have told me that “crust is easy!!” Looks to messy to me. When it comes to making crust from scratch, I’m a lazy wuss, OK??
Other than that, I follow the same recipe for elderberry pie as I do for blueberry:
3 to 4 cups of elderberries
1/2 cup of dark brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon
1 1/2 tablespoon of flour
1 drizzling of honey
Mix everything except the honey in a bowl and pour them into a 9 inch deep dish pie pan with crust. Take a spoon and fill the rest of the pie with more berries until you’ve filled the pie pan. Then drizzle the top with just a bit of honey, and this is because elderberries are quite tart and just a little more sweetening is a good touch but certainly not necessary. Cover the pie with the other cheating crust and poke some holes in it so the steam will vent out. Cook in the oven at about 350 or 400 till the crust is nice and brown, or about 45 minutes.
I’ve also been known to make what I call “bluederberry pie,” in which I mix 1 part elderberries to 3 parts blueberries. Oh my, that’s good!
Then the fun part: STUFF YOUR FACE!! MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!
So enjoy your elderberries, but when they start to come, don’t delay, they’ll be gone before you know it. And if you don’t want any of such silly treats, that’s just fine.
That’s more for me!!
Now, regarding my father.. he was a full blooded Norwegian, so he probably smelt more of lingonberries, or perhaps even cod. However, one of my favorite “insults” that I occasionally repeat aloud comes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. One of my favorite movies of all time contains a boisterous proclamation from John Cleese: “Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!!”
This story is a reminiscence of before times when grandsons were children and didn’t yet think cellphones were important. Well there we were, snarfing some homemade assorted fried rice with green beans and garlic from the garden and lots of other veggies from the grocery store and some dead crustaceans (a.k.a. shrimp), dead chicken muscles (a.k.a. chicken meat) and also dead pig muscles (a.k.a. mork peat); when My Beautiful Girlfriend announced, “It’s time to give your Papa some ideas for Happy Friday!!!” so they began hurling (not food) sentences at me in the form of interview questions and now it’s time to switch to that idea rather than allow this run-on sentence to continue any farther.
When asked what the title of this silly story should be, Gabe quickly blurted, “Monkeys On Their Bus Ride to England!!” This quickly ushered in a mock interview session in which his older brother Oliver assumed the role of interviewer.
Oliver: “Where are they in the world when they get on the bus?”
Gabe: “They are not in the world they’re on Jupiter.”
Oliver: “Is the bus that the monkeys are on going so fast on Jupiter that it somehow broke through the atmosphere and landed on earth?”
Gabe: “Well no, they did not go fast in the bus to get out of the atmosphere. They built a ginormous ramp, and it took them one day to get to earth. They landed in a field 5000 million miles away from England. The field was floating on a ginormous balloon on the water. A balloon was there to keep the field from sinking in the water.”
Oliver: “What country were they closest to one they landed?”
Gabe: “They were closest to China and four different countries.”
Oliver: “Are there any cows on this island?”
Gabe: “No but there are a crap ton of pigs!”
Oliver: “These aliens are confused.”
Gabe: “These aren’t aliens, they are just regular monkeys.”
At this time my Lovely Bride interjected that she was wondering if these monkeys were going to do any sightseeing. Perhaps they would see Big Ben or perhaps the Queen?
Gabe: “They thought maybe they would go see big Ben and the Queen but instead they chose to go to the Eiffel tower to see the other crap ton of pigs.”
Oliver started to resume the “interview,” but Gabe quickly took over. “I’ll question myself,” he said. “Where did they go after they went to the Eiffel tower and saw the other crap ton of pigs? They went back to the balloon to see the first crap ton of pigs! The End.”
We all had a chuckle while I e-mailed the results of the interview to myself so I could more easily transcribe the notes I dictated to my phone along the way. Afterward we all sat down to crunch on some delicious remote controls dipped in chocolate flavored motor oil and watched “Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring” until it was too late to keep our eyes open. So now I am sending this to all of YOU and that’s just all you get for this week, with the exception of course of the silly video I like to put at the end.
Note: This notice has been circulated to everyone who has pockets, pocket books, mailboxes, or ants in their driveway. Please read carefully and follow the instructions.
My Fellow Colleagues,
In these uncertain economic times we must strive to defeat the competition both before and after they are finished watching their favorite movies and / or cooking programs. Therefore, it is with great implosion that I urge all of you to apply an exorbitant amount of effort toward our long discontinued standard of excellence.
In striving toward the spirit of this year’s successful yet spiritually degrading development plan, we are rolling out what we believe is an innovative approach to corporate indecency with our new motto: Strength Through Costly Mistakes, or STCM.
To facilitate Phase 1 of this plan, Zelden Bilgehammer of Quality Infusions, Inc. will be arriving soon to inspect the cambernackles. Please ensure that all edible Click Wrapper standards are well concealed and thoroughly hyphenated before Zelden’s infestation. As a reminder, the entire Click Line will be down for maintenance during this inspection; since all the Snooglebockers are on their vacation to Jupiter to see the flying cows. I hope they have a great time!! I can smell the rancid cows from here!! Let’s just hope they don’t bring back any rottage cheese. That stuff is nasty, am I right??
But I digress…
During this exercise, please note that cambernackles will heretofore be inspected on the 3rd Tuesday of each week, twice monthly, with liberty and justice for all. This information may be shared freely with herds of wild businessmen, or any and all individuals whose names rhyme with “lumberjack,” as they would appear when divided by the pertinent day of the month.
For example: on the 1st Tuesday of 2026, the week begins with the letter R. It follows then, that you may share this with people who have names like:
Rudence Cumberjack
Rumby Cambersnorck
Royven Snanderjunk
And of course Roopy Wofflenick.
Note that the inverse modification standard never applies. None of these stick flingers are employed at this time, so sharing the inflammation can only enhance our deprivation protocol.
If you have any questions regarding this modulation, please insert two nickles and eleven dimes. I’d very much like you to tell me about the case you’re working on. After all, your toaster is probably orange with chrome crumb fenders. The chicken tenders have escaped the restaurant and are now stealing cars.
Thank you in advance for your cooperation in this urgent flea popping contest.
In the before times, when our grandsons were visiting, it was customary to beckon their assistance with writing the given week’s Happy Friday!!! installment. This process often produced rather interesting cabbage filters. So, as I’ve done before, I put their contributions in bold italics to differentiate them from the silliness that jumped out of my brain.
**WARNING!!** This story may be a bit silly. OK, here we go…
Smiley Face Headphones And A Balloon Ride To Mars
During a recent snowstorm, Sir Bobbington was found sleeping on the bathroom floor with the electric toothbrush jammed up his left nostril. Of course, such a traumatic event would at the very least cause strange dreams. For Sir Bobbington, this was no exception. And when he woke up he said, “I don’t know! I didn’t know my foot was bleeding this much! I didn’t feel it!” Then he went on to say some really strange things, apparently inspired by his dream. He bribbled and florped, then said, “This coming Sagnerday I will illegally change my name to Frapzak Mizzlepop, which of course was never a Native American name meaning ‘Slumbers With Chowder.’ Used donuts and apple chowder vinegar will be served in celebration.”
We used our garden tractor to get the toothbrush out of Sir Bobbington’s nose hole. It worked pretty well, but now there is a trail of gooey stuff all over the driveway. That should not be a problem because it will be radio season soon and the antennas will cover it up. Besides, it sealed some the cracks in our concrete quite nicely.
I asked him if he was OK after this ordeal. I mean, there was no blood or anything, and his nose was still functioning normally as far as I could determine. He assured me he was fine, but when I asked how in the hibbledy-boo he got that thing lodged inside his nostril, he said, “Well that’s even harder than making a story. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!!” I gave him a funny look and he quit talking. Both of us just figured the horrible event caused him to talk a bit squirrely.
Well it didn’t end there. Next thing I knew I was also affected by all the excitement and began reminiscing about all the green dust I found in my shoe bottles during last year’s amplified crust removal incidents. I told Sir Bobbington, “I would like to take this opportunity to urge you to please have a Happy Merry and a Joyful Wonderful. Personally, I’m very much looking forward to the Cream of Mustard celery toppings and the Dead Snake Surprise desserts!!” Then of course it was his turn to give me a weird look!
We decided to maybe try to change to some more intelligent conversation; so we took a walk over to Peach Pit Park to enjoy a relaxing walk. There we noticed Sir Frinklefoot; who was often seen in the park doing some “interesting” things. You see, every time Sir Frinklefoot went to a park or other public place where there were benches he would feel underneath to see if there was any gum. This time we got brave enough to ask him why he always collected used gum; and he said he wanted to make it into a hot air balloon and fly that to Mars.
Sir Bobbington and I just didn’t know what to make of all that… so as a measure of desperation, we kind of quickly looked around for a way to steer the conversation elsewhere. I spied a pair of headphones lying on the bench next to Sir Frinklefoot… and my imagination kicked in as I pointed at them and blurted out, “Look at the headphones, it’s a smiley face !!” Sir Frinklefoot gave us a puzzled look and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “OK, whatever.”
We said goodbye to Sir Frinklefoot; and started briskly walking away. As we made our way down the sidewalk, I remembered an experience I never had that I just knew would impress Sir Bobbington. I told him, “Many of my enjoyments have wriggled right out of Mars and other parts of the Aurora Borealis. I hope my cat learns to speak German soon.” Both of us stopped walking, shook our heads and roared with laughter.
A year ago today, my Beautiful Girlfriend’s spirit left for The Great Beyond. I remember the day very well… and how I didn’t “lose my shit” until after her body was removed from the house. As you may have guessed, the phrase “lose my shit” refers to crying. BIG crying. Loud crying. Many big and loud periods of crying… usually while I was alone, but not always.
Our parents didn’t like to hear us crying. More than once Dad would say, “Quit crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” That wasn’t very nurturing; and the approach was put on my list of childhood resentments that helped me break away from home at the ripe old age of 18. I was later able to let go of those resentments, realizing that our parents simply did the best they could.
My Beautiful Girlfriend and I entered early adulthood together… so certain were we of being in control of our lives that we married when we were 19. Looking back at some of the naysayers, it was a bit early in life to embark on such a commitment. The likelihood of two kids who were madly in love but also monstrously stubborn to pull off a marriage successfully seemed dim to some. The stubbornness of youth made each of dig our heels in from time to time. But after much weeping and gnashing of teeth, we knew that we needed to be together much more than we wanted to be apart. We literally grew up together. We recovered from addiction together. In the last part of her Earth life, we reviewed our times together. In spite of some of the pains of growing up, we concluded that most of our time together was really quite good. We pulled off the marriage gig with some pretty magnificent finesse; if I must say so myself.
Just short of 51 years. Pretty damn good, wouldn’t you say?
Back in 2019 we learned that My Lovely Wife had IIPF; which translates to Idiopathic Interstitial Pulmonary Fibrosis. That’s a big mouthful of words that placed a death sentence on My Dear Honey Pie. I looked on the interwebs and got the distressing news: death comes 3 to 5 years after diagnosis. And sure enough, she left this Earth in 2024. Five years.
Wow.
We worked hard to prepare ourselves for the inevitable. We stuck close to our biological and extended family. We had very deep discussions about Life, The Universe, and Everything. Believe it or not, throughout the course of her illness we remained grateful and content most of the time. Thanks to our 12 step program and our Higher Power, neither of us had any propensity toward intoxicants to distract us from reality. Oh but we sure did enjoy lots of chocolate and other sweets!!
Gratitude manifested itself in many ways. I retired shortly after her diagnosis, so I was able to care for her and help her die at home with dignity and peace. We had a truly amazing 50 year anniversary shindig in 2023; with a huge turnout of family, extended family, and friends. We were always very conscious of that fact that in spite of what was coming, we were blessed beyond measure compared to all too many of the poor and marginalized people that endure terrific hardships all over the planet.
Immediately after her passing, of course, came the commotion of many visits by family and friends. Then her Celebration of Life also brought so many of us together. Once all that subsided; I immersed myself in grief groups, individual counseling, and many, many 12 step meetings. I also jumped headlong into my favorite “heretical” book: The Book Of James by Susy Smith. The book gives details about The Afterlife, and it was sent to Susy in the form of automatic writing from a man who identified himself as James. I’m currently on my 6th reading since my Lovely Bride left us.
One might ask, “Why would you read such a book 6 times in a row?” I have a couple of answers: 1) I believe it to be true, and 2) the book is brimming with what I consider to be important guidelines for living. You know, weird stuff like all of us being children of God. I put all of us in bold italics because I’m convinced that it’s really important for me to remember that. Whenever I become judgemental of a person; I need to step back and realize that we all really are children of God. So my job is to love everyone, even those whose behavior I despise.
That ain’t always easy.
Even after 6 readings, The Book Of James continues to serve as a good reminder of how I need to behave and think during my Earth portion of this journey called life.
One of my favorite analogies about God is an anonymous quote I’ve latched onto for many years: “Nature is God’s reflection.” To me, that’s everything we can’t see with a microscope to everything that can’t be seen with the most sophisticated telescope… and everything in between. A few years ago one of my friends heard me utter that quote at a 12-step meeting and he confronted me after the meeting was done. “So Ken, that means that we are all part of that reflection, right??” I certainly could not disagree.
Thanks to all the help from family, friends, and counseling, this past year’s journey has gifted me with some important epiphanies. One such epiphany is that every thought is a prayer. Huh?? Yes. It’s become quite important for me to remember. I’m convinced that prayers can be both positive and negative. If I think positive thoughts, I’m sending positive energy into the Universe. If I think negative thoughts, I’m increasing the darkness that’s all too prevalent.
When I read or hear the news, there are all too many opportunities to be angry and disgusted; and of course I could easily slip into the all too human habit of name calling or other actions of extreme displeasure. Instead, I try to remember that we indeed are all children of God; and those who seek to destroy or are blinded by greed and / or power are, in my opinion, suffering from a terrible form of spiritual sickiness. I ask The Creator (whoever They are) to help them see the error of their ways, and of course I pray for those who are suffering.
So yeah, I’ve been mourning. A lot. But I’ve also been very thankful. So long as I keep gratitude forefront in my mind, life is good. Of course I miss my Lovely Wife, but I’ve felt her hugging me all day long. We talked about what life would be after she left… her exact words were, “I don’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life.” I replied, “I don’t really want that either but I don’t know what that means.” Well, God brought a magnificent new relationship into my life a few months ago. I can’t help but think that My Beautiful Bride and her posse (those amazing, strong women we know and love who have gone before her) petitioned The Creator to pull some strings for me.
At this point I really need to say Thank You to all who have supported me and my family in the past and present. I’ve learned so much in these last few years. And I’m especially grateful to be aware that I have much more to learn. As Alistair Sim said in my favorite Scrooge movie, “I don’t know anything. I never did know anything. But now I know I don’t know anything!” As a person who was afflicted with Mr. Know It All disease, repeating that statement helps me keep my ego in remission. Going forward, I’ll be “wearing out” the following prayer:
God, grant me the serenity
To accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
So… remember those “heretical documents” to which I’ve been referring? Well here are some testimonials that illustrate the talking points of what I’ve been reading. Hope you’ll take the time to check them out.
Every once in a while, I spend a little time thinking about words. Everyone has of course learned various words over the years… but I find myself thinking about the weird ones. Words like adz, and affable, and even crapulous. My grandmother often sat and read the dictionary, just for the enjoyment of it. She never read a single word of “Happy Friday!!!” though, which is probably just as well. She might get frightened at some of the silly words I invent while writing this silly blog thing.
When it comes right down to it, English is a rather odd language. Little wonder that people of the world find English difficult to learn. So many rules like ” I before E except after C, unless pronounced A as in neighbor and weigh.” And of course we have so many words that are spelled completely differently but sound very much the same. Sew with that in mind, eye wood like two continue this episode of Happy Fry Day bye you sing words that will bee spelled correctly, but are not necessarily used proper lee in a send tense.
Four egg sample, the word “ewe” sounds the same as “you” but a “ewe” is a female sheep, and of coarse you no exactly watt ewe are eye hope. There is all sew a “yew” that is a type of bush!! Eye yam knot shore that any won kin even reed some thing like this. Four many pee pull, trying two reed words that dew knot bee long two gather is moor like jumping threw a window while there pants are on fire. They simply kin knot bring themselves two dew it. And eye four one don’t blame them won little bit.
Sew my friends, pleas try to right with proper you sage. When eye sea words with apostrophes that don’t bee long in them, it makes me wander wear that person’s brain flue off two. Yew no, like when sum won is selling sum thing, and they have a big sine that says, “Freshly Picked Pear’s” oar sum thing like that. My question two a sine like that is, “Freshly Picked Pear’s what??” Yew sea, an apostrophe is never used when a noun is plural, but only to show possession oar may bee as a contraction. Like, “eye wood like you two meat my pear’s Uncle Bartlett” for possession; or “my pear’s got a big fat worm in it,” as a contraction. And yes, eye yam fully a wear that a pair probably does knot have an uncle. But booboos like these types of things make me cry inside, but I dew get over it after much less thyme than I used two.
Any way, that’s probably enough strange use of words from the likes of me. Eye true lee hope eye have knot harmed yore brain things two bad lee bye righting awl these words in sand dances that suffer from horribly pour usage. Sew, eye wheel stop this write now sew yore brain kin have a rest.
Until next thyme then, pleas have a ferry Happy Day.
Peas, Love, and Hogs,
Ken “Eye Don’t No How Two Spell” Broyvington
a.k.a. “Mustard Lips Mack”
These three gents could really swing it… please enjoy the “Alphabet Song.”
Even though our faces may or may not have ever have Facetimed, please be aware that I miss all of you terribly (even those of you I’ve never met) and have begun to wash my face with strawberry jelly just before smelling the driveway juices as they run down the sides of the Very Important Egg Warmers (VIEWs), If you don’t believe me, well, I guess I can only remind you of the time you never fell down from that gigantic pile of roasted pickle tires!! Right??? Yes!! And of course there was also never the time when you each tried to swallow my radio controlled sandwich bags!! Oh, and of course there was the incident when large whale pebbles never filled your sneakers while you weren’t hiding in the ocean during that one time that never happened!!
Of Course!!
Now I’m afraid I need to call the LAWYERS!! Yes!! You see, I woke up the other day (or was it night??) to discover sawdust flying from the rafters in my attic. When I went to investigate, I noticed that the landscape business next door had chopped away the side of my house to make a storage area for their weed whackers and assorted metal cylinders. I asked my cat what the HECK happened, and she just looked at the ground and meowed about something that sounded like, “Um… they needed the room or something.” So I told her we needed to call the LAWYERS. Yes. Just before that I was riding around the hills in some sort of crazy tube thing. It was fun but I really had no control over where I was going so that was a bit weird.
Then I woke up FOR REAL, and remembered that I had pizza with ham, salami, pepperoni, sausage, and golf balls (OK, maybe no golf balls) for dinner that night; and eating that much processed meat often gives me very strange dreams. This is a true thing you see. And the dream seemed pretty real too. No foolin’. I call dreams like that “free movies.”
Speaking of movies, have you seen that
one movie where those people were doing things in a place? And they
talked to each other and also wore interesting costumes? Sometimes
they were running around yelling, and other times they were very
quiet except for the burping. I think the name of the movie was…
um… OK I don’t remember. Perhaps you know it. Was that one cool
or what?? I’m gonna make me a movie some day. I believe it will be
“Mighty Mouse Meets Godzilla.” Rather than fighting, they become
friends and team up to educate squid and also give teenage dung
beetles the ability to find really good poop. A movie like that will
likely become a franchise. I’ll be RICH I tell you!!!
Or maybe I’ll just be Me.
My dear friends, or friends of friends, whoever you are, I really must inform you that when I write a letter like this, it comes from inside my socks which should really have been put in the laundry many days ago. Nobody likes bad odor in the foot area; and I am really tired of my cat crinkling her eyes and calling me “Mr. Stinky Toes.” Tomorrow I’m going to try to recycle some old milk that is starting to smell badly. I believe if I put it in the washing machine with Mr. Monkey’s Milk Mender Solution it will make a really big mess and my cat will promptly send me to the garage with a bag of old staple guns.
Alright then. I must away to the Interwebs to find for you a cartoon that is both nutritious and easily melted into a pleasant but invisible fire extinguisher. Peace and Love to You All and may your nostrils never be filled with TV antennas.
Some people need a word for the day to make the radio sauces slide briskly from under the toilet canopy. Well in my professional opinion, “bird” is not the word. No, rather the word for today (or any other day) is “bloop.” Sometimes it’s used as an exclamation, as in the case of dropping something in the water. An example: remember that one time I was with Uncle Bribblet on the dock at Zooper’s Pond? He handed me this awesome looking smellphone he just bought and went up to the house to get seconds on Aunt Meebee’s refried cabbage sticks. When he came back, I had some bad news for him: “Sorry… I had your new iPhone 27 held tightly in my grubby little mitts, but as I was leaning over the dock I was distracted by the freshwater hexagonal stickfish and BLOOP!! into the brackish water it went. I was able to get it out and I tried to dry it off in the fire, but it started to fizz and make weird popping noises.”
Uncle Bribblet was not amused.
Because I enjoy learning more about words and other household temperature measuring cups, I decided to scan the interwebs for any additional applications of the word “bloop.” Lo and behold, there was one I had never heard of before. According to Wikipedia, “Bloop was an ultra-low-frequency, high amplitude underwater sound detected by the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) in 1997.” Initially it was thought to have originated from a marine animal, but it was later determined to be sounds from glacial movement or by “seabed gouging by ice.” Well now that’s just plain fascinating!! If only I was there to enjoy the bloopening!! Perhaps I could have gotten an autograph from one of the underwater sound detection technician people persons!! Or not!!
Bloop also appears in baseball, when a batter smacks a ball just beyond the infield. And then there are bloopers in film or other video media in which mistakes are made and are presented to audiences for the humor of it all. And then there’s the use of bloop to describe a noise made by an electronic device. So yes, goys and birls, I’m stealing all these inflammable regressions from the webbernet dictionary website definition place things.
Being the drebnerflooted person I am, I have sometimes been known to utter a short, high-pitched, low volume “bloop!!” for no apparent reason. This serves no other purpose than sheer amusement for me and anyone nearby who happens to hear it. I’ve also been known to utter other inconomulous strebulations like “flarf!!” or “mozzbop!!” and perhaps even “hookonk!!” just to perplex my grandsons and any other young or otherwise height-challenged lifeforms that happen to be within earshot. Of course, few of the “words” you just read are real; but hey, if you can’t have fun langling manguage, I mean, why squish the Twinkies on the sidewalk? Right??
Of course it is!!
Lastly, but not in the least indivisible, is the (not very) famous poem that includes the bloop as a sound made from mergling.
Well there you go. These days, there are many things we could cry about, but sometimes it’s important to laugh with very big harroo while you have a big mouthful of macaroni and cheese. I hope you find a word for your day, whether it is “bird,” or “bloop,” or even something highly technical like “wozzpoffle.” In the meantime, may your nostrils be free of burrowing insects, and may your garments be forever stain resistant.
