Smiley Face Headphones And A Balloon Ride To Mars

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.

Then we went for ice cream.

The End.

Good Mourning, And Thank You

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.

The Trouble With English

Hello Ladles and Jelly Spoons,

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.”

To My Friends, Their Friends, and Their Friends Too

Dear Oscillators,

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.

Indescribably yours,

Me, The Person Guy

Bloop Is The Word

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.

Peace, Love, and Blissful Antigens,

Hyram C. Gilmore

On the other hand, you have this…

Chicken Nuggets Billy Bob Llama Juice Coffee

Once upon a time, our grandsons were here for a visit, and because of what had become something of a tradition, I asked their assistance with some story ideas for “Happy Friday!!!” Previous renditions have revolved around strange titles, for which I was expected to come up with some sort of story line. Maybe I shot myself in the foot, but this particular night I asked for some random sentences that I would incorporate into the weekly blog post. I got a few ideas; although the first suggestion came in the form of an interesting glob of words. Upon requesting ideas, my job was to attempt to write something that utilized their thoughts. The unfolding of this process is described in the following paragraphs, after which you will know when it’s something they gave me because it will be in bold italics.

“OK guys,” I said, “tonight is Friday, so you know what that means? I write a story every week. I need your help with some ideas. This time, how about some weird sentences instead of just a title?”

After some hesitation, the first suggestion was “chicken nuggets Billy Bob Llama juice coffee.”

“Huh??” I asked quizzically. “Um… that’s not a sentence. Can you please think of some sentences? I don’t care whether they make sense; and they don’t even have to be related.” As these instructions flew out of my mouth I began to think maybe I was biting off more than I could chew. They did not disappoint, however, and here comes the result. Remember, their ideas are in bold italic.

Chicken Nuggets Billy Bob Llama Juice Coffee

by Ken Hansen (kind of)

Late one day in the middle of the night, I decided to go visit Billy Bob. On the way to his house, I stopped at the local McBarf and bought some of his favorite munching things: chicken nuggets. I phoned him right after I left McBarf, and he said, “Hey man!! Hope you didn’t get anything to drink!! I am making your favorite: llama juice coffee!! I’ll wait till you get here, because I know you love that stuff.”

Holy moly, when he told me about making the lama juice coffee I was totally geeked. I haven’t had that stuff in a very long time. It was really hard to find it during COVID you know. My mouth started to water so bad I had to get out my drool cup to catch all the slobber. Billy Bob is a good friend, but although he means well sometimes he gets a little greedy with treats. I was really hoping he wouldn’t dip into the delightful beverage before I got to his house. But of course, when I pull up to his house, knock on the door, and go inside, what do I see?? Billy Bob is drinking the llama juice coffee!!

“Couldn’t wait, could you??” I blurted out. “Well, hey, can’t say I blame you. That’s some pretty good stuff.” Billy Bob apparently felt a little guilty for starting without me, and tried to conceal his cup by sliding it behind his back. “No, man!! I didn’t start without you!!” It wasn’t any big deal to me really, but I knew he was fibbing. I mean, hey, Billy Bob and I are both very aware that every time he enjoys our special treat, the llama juice in the coffee makes his face shrivel up. “Hey dude, take it easy!! I’m OK!! You were kind enough to make the brew, but you should know by now that you can’t hide the fact that you drink it. I mean, your face is really shriveled up!!”

Billy Bob must have been having a bad day, because suddenly he became a bit defensive. “I’m really sorry, man,” he explained, “but please don’t pick on me right now. After all, my ears are on fire.” “Say what now??” I asked with amazement. “Ummm it sure doesn’t look like your ears are on fire,” I replied. “But now that you mention them, they do seem a bit hairier than normal.” I stepped in for a closer look, but Billy Bob stepped back abruptly and shouted, “Do not shave my ears, they smell like cat turds!!” Quickly he covered both ears with his hands as if to protect them (or maybe me… if they really did stink). Then he said something totally off the wall: “The fribbleknockers on Mars always give away free stones.”

I had to step away a bit, and then it dawned on me… llama juice coffee has always had a strange effect on my friend. So I flat out told him, “Billy Bob my friend, I think we need to find us a different treat. I mean, you’re having some very strange reactions to this delightful beverage. Let’s go downtown and see if we can get another one of those grapefruit milkshakes at the gas station.” Billy Bob was instantly relieved. He liked the grape gas milk fruit station shake idea very much. We hopped on our 5 wheel scootercycles, hoisted up the sails, and waited for a few days for a nice wind to power us downtown. We had a great time during our 6 hour ride from Billy Bob’s house to the grape milk station. Once we arrived, we ordered our shakes. As we slurped our new treats, we smiled and promised each other to leave the llama juice coffee alone for a few decades.

What can I say? We are best friends!!

The End

Hmmm… what to do about this week’s video? I try to avoid politics, but Betty Boop and Grampy put an interesting spin on things.

An Open Letter To All Bug Snorters

Hello Darling Friends and Zimplers,

Just a note to tell you that I’ve learned how to eat what snakes don’t like. Please, all of you, before it’s too late: change your weevils soon or your dentifrice will be subject to humiliation. You’ve always known what eggs are, so get with the program! OK, maybe you didn’t always know what eggplants are. But the second you found out, I’ll bet you enjoyed their rich, chewy centers.

Twelve times this year I’ve sanctioned your optic nerves. Now it’s time for YOU to do something for ME: bring “the stuff” to the next curbside travel aroma infestation. Do this for me in remembrance of the good old days, when men were mere clods of soil and women were tender, loving, delightful bags of chocolate crème oatmeal.

Clams have been telling me the best doggone stories I’ve ever ignored during the past few milliseconds. I often am astonished at their true talent and willingness to stack coloring books to the ceiling. If only they would cease applying the maraschino cherries to all those taffy-sucking, dust-gathering, elegant and kind bovine conversation artists. How pleasantly they yell to my cats while I’m sleeping: “HEY!!  GO USE YOUR CLAWS ON THE HUMANS! IT’S FUN WHEN THEY WAKE UP QUICKLY!!”

As I wake up each morning with cat ouch on my freckles, I’m beginning to understand why God made dump trucks.  It’s the noodle thing you know.  People fling noodles in the streets as a sign of protest during times of tardy laxative infusions.  When the doody is late, the people are… well… noodle flingers.  Some floodle ningers are just plain angry, and other fling noodlers are having the best time of their lives.  Why anyone would shake up a bottle of Pepsi and hand it to the “birthday boy” is beyond my wildest pile of tent caterpillars.  I’ve seen the look on “birthday boy’s” face as the brown foam covers his favorite television clicking carpet.  It’s just one of those moments when you just gotta have a pair of pineapples to stuff in the pencil sharpener.  So as you can see, the noodle trucks were made to pick up all the dump flingers.  Is that a remarkable paint remover or what??

PLEASE:  Step awaaay from the rhinestones.  We will glue them to your armpits later, after you’ve washed down those two bags of Camel Chow with radio juice.  Don’t worry about all the precipitation, Camel Chow is made to last even in the worst banana storms.  After all, Uncle Clogpipe will certainly let you know when it’s time to rotate the fossil camera.  Remember, always duck when the banana storm begins, or you’ll be the first one on your block to own a 12% rayon staple gun.  I’ve seen this happen at least – 0.5 times, maybe even less.  Don’t try to argue with me on this one, alright?

Wumba, wumba, wumba goes the tire with the small baseball bat inside for extra bad handling on those tight turns and special goat races.  Carefully pick your friends, for if you are picking your friends carefully, then you’ll never have to worry about picking your friend’s… um…. lint globs.  You thought I was gonna say nose, didn’t you?  Ha, ha ha…  it’s snot something I wood say hear.  I mean, you can pick your friends and you can pick your knows, but you can’t wipe your friend’s boogies off behind the sofa.  Sew there!  Eye didn’t say it!!  Ha ha on you!!!

All right then.  You better not read this anymore.  You may find yourself being lost within your shelf, and then there will be no finding of anything.  Who needs surround sound anyway??  I’ll tell you who:  ME.  I’m gonna tell someone to have it for me so I may enjoy it viscerally.  Or perhaps vivaciously.  Possibly even vertically.  My Belt is Yellow.

Horizontally Yours,

Krayben Fizztoggle

a.k.a. “Wally Wartwonder”

And now we must enjoy the delightful iridescent angle worm delight.

Please Praznify The Churblazooken

Dear Appletoes,

This letter is to remind you that both you and your dog owe me 16 gravy molecules from that bet we made last Hamperday. I’m not going to be lenient with you any longer; I am very soon going to splash Bloopen Sauce onto your Spoken Lint Collection. Do you really believe you can trust Stick Lizards to vonculate your patchnicorns? Well of course you can. That is why I love you and your pet sawhorse so doggoned much.

Oh my, can you remember when everyone in Pudding County could actually count to 14? That was the coolest time of my 3 week Toaster Party; especially when you shouted “Who dumped out the electric chicken hammers??!!” during the Roof Rodeo Rocket Ranchers celebration. Very surprised young children performed the amazing “Backward Conga Dance” shortly after the marbles were ejected from that lawn ornament dispenser we installed on Picklestick Boulevard.

Oh my GOD!! This chair is farting!! Oh wait… I had receipts for dinner again. They always make my socks explode. No rudeness intended, but when I write nonsense while sitting in a fart chair there can be one or two candles that disagree with my liverwurst. But really now, would you please stop biting that poor spidersquirrel’s flyswatter every time the batteries on the remote control say “Karflebock?”

As I write this letter to you I’m becoming increasingly aware of just how unaware your awareness has become without you even being aware of it. For example, you know full well that I have always enjoyed the rich, full tone quality of a telephone roasting in the oven. In fact, just the other day, Difnert, Mopenarch, and Joojoofloat were over to the house the day after yesterday and we had a great time dissecting all the training wheels. So obviously both boys and girls can enjoy something without knowing something unnecessary; like who a person changes into when they have the wrong kind of cereal for their 3:45 snack (sometimes I turn into a tuba).

So my dear friend, my eyes are in great moisture from laughing my elbows off as I compose this heartfelt, yet indignant letter to you and all your Monkey Headed Friends Who Have Absolutely No Idea How To Shave A Viking’s Volume Control while the band plays simply delicious renditions of “I Never Had A Salad,” and oh my gosh, how about that wonderful smash hit “You Shouldn’t Choke That Speaker Cabinet So Loudly” while the Eagles and the Buzzards and the Loons all marvel at their complete Lack Of Interest in writing; either in a normal way or by abusing their English with a terribly too long run-on sentence.

Thank you for sniffing only the red printer cartridges. I’m sure you’ll be proud of yourself someday; and until then you can just keep trying to play disc golf with oversized chocolate chip railroad ties.

Peace, Love, and Haberdashery,

Hyram

P.S.:  If nonsense never existed, these guys would never have become famous.

An Open Letter to Noodletoss Anklebracelet

An Open Letter to Noodletoss Anklebracelet

All Others May Read But Do Not Sing The Chorus Out Loud.

(It frightens the radish grabbers.)

Dear Noodlestomp,

The Flooper Beetles keep eating the insides of my safety shoes. I’ll need at least 3 brand new, totally used hammers to eradicate them softly while donuts fly south for Spring. If no tapeworm dust is inhaled, apply bologna to both armpits before walking to the bathroom. When you’ve finally come to the conclusion that ice cream cannot be injected into the elbows to increase flexibility, you’ll find it completely obvious that not only does hair find its way into every part of your automatic transmission, it also can insulate the tree beepers; and this of course is only useful when the wind is multicolored with a pleasantly indignant odor that is often found to be not unlike cottage cheese that has been allowed to rest on the top of a night light during Barn Knocking Day in eastern Slooponia.

Perhaps you never heard that I’m collecting $$ for anyone who wants to attend The Great Flatulence Festival. Beans and boiled eggs are served round the clock to all participants; who of course wear the traditional festival garb of off-white Party See Pants. When the Festival commences, all the Party See Pants participants part ways in a most disorderly manner and select their favorite “brooping corner” so they can perform their musical Stink-O-Rama. Their amusing Farty Party ways will delight the crowds into extinction; and the Party See Pants of the participants will have the familiar tan but irregularly elliptical patterns where the noxious fumes exit the stinkulus holysmokeabus apertures. Additional medical terminology is often used to grade the performances; and of course the winner is permitted to leave before someone strikes a match to ignite the celebratory Kaka-Kaboom.

Tickets are $.27 each but nose plugs are $379.17 per unused pair. Used plugs are not for sale but may often be bartered for with enticements of extra Boiled Egg Bean Surprise available at the condescension stand.

In closing I’d like to demand that you remember about all that creamy slinky dust oozing from the back of my phone today. Not sure why today should be any different than the time none of us celebrated Webmiggle Day while wearing oversized raincoats.

Thank you again for not shrieking while I opened that 12 year old can of smoked caterpillar toes. You must admit they were delicious with those deep fried dust crackers!

Eat Well And Cause Mischief,

Milbert R. Wofflenock

Speaking of nonsense, these gentlemen were masters…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_Sy6oiJbEk

We Are, You Are Not, Nyaa Nyaa Na Boo Boo.

Dear Antenna Ranchers,

I found it necessary to let you all know that I am on vacation beginning Wednesday, and you are not. Unless you are, then you are also.

On vacation.

Have I mentioned I’m not working this week?? Oh wait… I’m retired!!! Ha ha on youse!! And I began writing this silly note to you on Thursday, So that means it’s today already!! So evan though I’m not going anywhere today, I can still be off work for as long as I like, and that of course means…

I‘m on vacation!! Like all the time!!!

And you are not,

Nyaa nyaa na boo boo.

Unless you are.

On vacation.

Deja Vu…

Ha ha on you who must work, I laugh to you. I bet your toenails are shivering at the thought of working for the next days of working. This is very amusing to me indeed.

I plan to spend the upcoming next week’s 4 away days doing things that I do not get paid to do. This is why it is called vacation. Of course, some of my favorite things to do are playing in the garden, sleeping longer than normal and maybe even forgetting how to shave my cat’s teddy bear baskets.  These have nothing to do with travel, but they flew out of my head and onto the keyboard for your eye things to disintegrate. When I return from this sojourn, the garden must be carefully tilled with explosives and high pressure syrup hoses. Following that, I methodically mix all my veggie seeds together in a large five gallon bucket and fling them into the syrup explosion zones. Pancakes will be sprouting before June 48, 2193 if we don’t get any rain…

My New Sweetheart and I are traveling to Branson, Missouri on roller skates. We really hope we can hook a tow strap up to a truck or something to speed up our travels. Do you need seat belts with high speed roller skating?? This I do not Know.

On the other hand, I just ate a grape from Meijer that tasted like fish. I never knew they had fish grapes. Now I must try my hand at making fish raisins or maybe one of YOU could send me the recipe for fish wine. If I recall correctly, there are stories of a very famous person who could convert bread into water and fish into wine. So as you can see, fish wine is not a new concept.

However, regardless of how much fish wine you may care to produce, I will not be having any with your breaded water meal. I am a recovering fishaholic, so it might not be a very good idea for me to start drinking fish again. I’ll just have to enjoy the fish raisins, or maybe peanut butter and jellyfish sandwiches with a glass of dehydrated coconut milk. A nice cup of flavored air to wash it down… mmmm life is good.

How many moles does it take to get a jar of molasses?? Those poor moles, running around with no hineys. They are brave to sacrifice their booty just so we can have our jars of molasses. Not sure why we civilized people even allow jars of molasses to be sold in stores. I mean, do you ever see jars of mouseknees, cricketlips, or even seagullstomachs?? Nope. Just molasses.

Dinner for every day during this vacation will be pizza and Snickers bars. Freshly squeezed fish grapes will be served up as a nice hot beverage with a dollop of whipped crab juice on the side. No farmers will be harmed in this extravaganza. It’s very possible I need a vacation.

Please have a safe and odiferous working time. Are you on vacation? No, you are not.

ME, not YOU.

My eyes have suddenly turned into olives!!!

Conko De Bonko,

Kenny Calibration
a.k.a. “Fossil Tongue Pete”

Someday maybe we will drive to Hawaii… but for now it’s just a dream.