An Open Letter To All Earthling Human Folks

Dear Nazneltroans,

As I’ve lamented previously, I’m finding the news consistently grinkly these days, and although I have invented every single solution to every single problem in the whole universe, I will not be so arrogant as to suggest that I have invented every single solution to every single problem in the whole universe; but instead will begin this odorless document with a deliciously colorful, black and white run-on sentence that has likely already begun to annoy your eyeballs with liberty and justice for all.

In other words, if you choose to read any further, I will offer a few strange utterings that I consider to be nonsensical stress removal tools. These will be presented to all of you free of charge, as I beseech you to realize that such wackadoodles have many times prevented me from suffering cranial explosions while sleeping in the closet.

Awk, awk!!

You see, when I was very young I discovered that silliness can be a wonderful distraction from events that were horrible, yet were completely out of my control. It was during my early childhood that I began a quest for stress relief; and because Mom planted me in front of the TV shortly after exiting the womb (1954 in my case), my research led me to such trusted resources as The Marx Brothers, The Three Stooges, Red Skelton and many similar amplified flavor crystals. The result of my studies have not completely alleviated my need to cry at times, but my learnings have certainly proven that laughing is very helpful.

Please pass the cabbage!!

Now that I’ve lost your attention, please remember not to pick my dog’s nose with a small Chevy convertible. Why would you enjoy throwing chowder at the wall?? Of course, when goldfish ovulate there is a very loud “BROOP” sound. But this is no excuse for tying licorice to the mailbox.

So many times I’ve reflected! Other times I’ve simply absorbed. The physics of nuisance vegetables can be mind crackling; with a subtle hint of gasoline. Did you know if you mix German chocolate monkey soup with very small pieces of asparagus, the Tooth Fairy will induce vomiting in Walmart at 10:47 PM this coming Sunday? Obviously this will renew all rake handles in the Baby Poop Forest.

Well Dear Friends, please allow me to bury all your tableware during our next visit. In fact, each time we press bologna into the underside of an apple, large toothpicks seem to imbed themselves in my slime candles. I know this may seem odd; but if my magnetic toaster makes any more gravy noises, I fear the neighbors will begin “The Cat Straightening Ritual” with renewed vinegar.

OK. Now that you’ve been totally immersed in rice lava; please remain aware that in spite of all of the insanity swirling about on planet Earth, the mere fact that you are a person gives me great cause to beam several billion metric lumens of love to you, whether you like it or not.

Yes.

I once read a quote that, “Nature is God’s reflection.” I’ve often uttered this quote at various gatherings. Upon hearing me say it, some wisenheimer said to me, “So Ken, that means all of us are part of that reflection, right?” And of course I had to agree. Therefore, I consider it my responsibility to love everyone. Yes, EVERYONE. So I do my best to follow through on that premise.

However, there are some humans in this world that I likely will never invite for dinner; ya know what I’m sayin’??

Alrighty then. I would like to close by sending all of you sincerely heartfelt happy gestures and smiles that can be smelled for hundreds of millimeters. This, of course, is spite of my strong belief that next winter may have a strong yellow odor. Not to worry, all can be cured with a healthy dose of Milk of Amnesia.

Thank you; and for goodness sake, please stay crinkly.

Yours with great indigestion,

Kenny “You Gonna Eat That??” Floopengrouk

And now for some fun clips…

So there I was, minding my own business, crying inside at the state of the world what with the war and all and the climate change and more and more expensive everything and hoping we can all survive this; and please PLEASE start working together to treat all we meet with love and kindness; and now of course I’m wondering if this run-on sentence will ever stop; but then I realized that I’m the only one who can stop it.

So I did.

Then my dear Debi said to me, “Hey, did you hear about the cockroaches that eat each others’ wings so they can be mates for life??” And of course I had not heard of this… but sure enough, there it is on the interwebs, and you can if you want to read about it click here to see it in Science News. So yes, these cockaroaches really do eat each others’ wings as a way to bond and fend off any other possible suitors.

Isn’t that special? Maybe humans could adopt that strategy as a way to keep an eternal bond during the matrimonial universe of their relationship. It certainly beats taunting each other. And no, I didn’t misspell cockroach. Know why? It’s on this authority: when I was a kid on Long Island, Noo Yawk we would abuse the use of such roaches’ names by teasing each other thusly: “Crybaby cockaroach nyaa nyaa na boo boo!!” This of course was sung to the tune of “You Are A Stinkerbutt Nyaa Nyaa Na Boo Boo!!”

None of the cockaroach wing munchings can really pull me out of the funk that the events of the world have slapped into my nostrils. Therefore, I will conclude this week’s silly blog thing with some very silly transcriptions of actual text messages I’ve sent to my coworkers during my tenure as a factory support computer geek boy. So without any further ado, here are the messages for your enjoyment.

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

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.

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.

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!!

And as a final entry for today:

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

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

And now for the video fun stuff:

Well my dear ones, here we are in another unnecessary war. As the old John Prine song goes, “Jesus don’t like killin’ no matter what the reason’s for.” Rather than lament about all that icky stuff, I dug up a very silly story I wrote for my grandsons several years ago. So without further ado, I present to you:

The Adventures Of Gribblit And Yobo

Once upon a time, there were two finkle snarns named Gribblit and Yobo. Both of them enjoyed eating dust while watching their favorite dogfood fly into small cars. There were times when they enjoyed this so much, they would jump up and down about 14 times and roll some cabbage across the road. If they got too loud, their Mom would come outside and say, “Hey you two!! What do you think this is?? Some kind of radio hammer?” After Mom said things like that, they decided they’d better be good for at least 12 more seconds.

Last Tuesday, Gribblit came home from frog washing school and was laughing a lot. Yobo asked, “What’s so funny?” Gribblit laughed some more and said, “My cheese sandwich keeps finding pennies in people’s hair!!” Yobo didn’t think that was really funny, but he wanted to get a penny finding sandwich like Gribblit had. Yobo said, “Can you teach my sandwich how to find money? I’d really like to buy a new carrot saw so I can cut my carrots faster. Oh!! And I sure would like to have one of those battery operated nose cleaners!!”

Gribblit wasn’t sure he could teach a sandwich how to find money. So instead he told Yobo, “Well to be honest, I never taught my sandwich anything. It just started finding money on its own. But I’ll tell you what, I bet if we carry some sticks over to Mr. Camel’s house he can teach us how to make an ear brush!” Yobo crinkled his eyebrows and told Gribblit, “I think maybe you are fooling me. Everyone knows Mr. Camel doesn’t brush his ears, he licks them.” Gribblit said he was sorry, and showed Yobo a handful of pennies. “OK, well maybe we could go to the ice cream shop and I’ll buy you some chicken wire. That way we can use it to catch spiders on their way to the movies!!”

Yobo popped his doogle zinker and said, “Well all my spider friends will be very angry if you try to stop them from going to the movies. We better go to the House of Hamburgers and buy some jingle bells instead. That way we can signal the trees before they cross the road so they won’t get hit by large trucks.” Yobo also said, “After we jingle our tree signals, we can sit down for a nice glass of hot pepper juice and some pickled newspapers.”

So, Gribblit and Yobo had another very nice day that made absolutely no sense to either of them. But they stayed friends; and found out that no matter how many marbles you sing songs to, there will always be more birds who don’t like living in a cave. They will also remember that hot pepper juice doesn’t really taste very good with pickled newspapers. However, fried hammer handles can be pretty darn tasty.

As Grandma Foo Foo Looba once said, “Please, just don’t eat my kitchen door.”

The End

OK… and now because I’m an old hippie, here are some protest songs. I often put more than one video (or song) at the end of each “Happy Friday!!!”… but some folks have expressed surprise and have missed some stuff. Well there are 3 this time.

Just sayin’

What a beautiful time of year, don’t you think? It’s finally getting warm in Michigan, the ground and the sky will soon both be grey, the temperature is just warm enough to keep snow from falling and just cold enough to make your cheeks red. Spring is nowhere near yet, and the drudgery of winter is really beginning to wear on me and I’m thinking maybe you too. A great time to celebrate love, don’t you think??

It really IS a good time, actually. Don’t know how it came to be, but February 14 is the perfect time to celebrate warmth and care. Especially here in the temperate zone where spring is like a cake baking in a land far, far away. You can’t smell it yet, but you know Aunt Zelda is probably mixing up a wonderful batch that will be filling the air with fragrant bugs and flowery bird droppings from migratory species.

HUH??

You see, it’s like this… I for one need a nice warm fuzzy holiday at this time of year. I’m sick up and fed with the weather already. It’s a pain in the vinegaroon right now (click on that “vinegaroon” word… you’ll be amazed), and if we don’t get some kind of indication what season it is REALLY supposed to be, I will eat that big pile of dirt over there. See it? That pile of dirt?? Ha ha, I can’t eat it, it’s still frozen. Get my drift now?? Winter doesn’t know whether it’s coming or going. Weird weather… that so-called El Nino thing I guess. Warm one minute and cold the next. I’ve seen goldeneyes (migratory diving ducks) in the river flats, so I guess maybe spring is on the way. Seems like a long way off though. It’s above freezing in the daytime and brrrr-cold at night.

This is me, whining.

Anyway, my professional opinion is: the timing for Valentine’s Day is perfect. We need some warmth… and Valentine’s Day is a warm, fuzzy symbol of love. As I write this today, Friday, February 13, I can’t help thinking… this year is even more special than last year. Know why? Because this Valentine’s Day isn’t here yet, and last year’s is gone. See how I figured that out?? Isn’t that remarkable?? You know, it’s that carpe diem thing.

Sneeze the day.

Seize the sneeze.

Bless you!

Thanks!

Anyhow, Happy Valentine’s Day to all who find these words in front of your eye things. You needn’t have a sweetheart for this holiday… it’s a celebration of love, doggone it! A good excuse to do something nice, just for because. Sell a monkey some used pencils at three for a penny, for example. Or else grind up some beef flavored oatmeal and give your dog a nice treat for supper. Better yet, give all the objects in your home a really endearing nickname and offer to buy them snacks and beverages. If you want to be REALLY weird, do something nice for someone and don’t let them know who did it!

Maybe Valentine’s Day is simply God’s (whoever they are) way of giving us a little reminder that we can be warm and loving on more than just Christmas. Whatever. Just have some fun, be nice and maybe even tell someone you love them. Oh, and don’t eat too much chocolate.

Save some for ME.

Speaking of Love…it’s really all you need, don’t you think? Well… yes, absolutely.

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…

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.

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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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!!

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Noodles

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

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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.

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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.

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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).

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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.

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.”

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:

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”

So there I was, ordering an extravagant gourmet meal from the Taco Bell in South Haven, Michigan, when the nice young man timidly asked me a question. He had been looking my way for a few minutes, and as I think back on the encounter I realized that the t-shirt I was wearing had him a bit perplexed. Here’s a picture of what I was wearing. Does the guy on the shirt look familiar to any of you? Well if he does, you might be old like me.

Anyway, the gentleman handed me my order and said, “What is Shemp??” I replied, “He’s one of The Three Stooges. He was Moe and Curly’s brother, and when Curly died he took Curly’s place.” The farther I went into the explanation the more apparent it became that this dude was not following. “You ever heard of The Three Stooges?” I queried. “I think so…” he answered, still visibly puzzled. So I finished up with “Go to YouTube and do a search on The Three Stooges. They did a bunch of funny short movies back in the 1930s through the 1950s.” Don’t think he was too fired up about that idea, but one never knows.

I have no idea where I got the t-shirt, but I’ve always considered the play on words and the image to be quite funny. There was a time in my life where dope (hemp) was very important to me, and I dreamed of when it might be legal some day. But I’ve been clean and sober for 36 years now so I don’t partake of such things anymore. And no, I don’t wear that shirt when I go to “those meetings,” but every now and again I put it on for the fun of it. Even though dope is legal in Michigan now, I still find the shirt amusing.

Shemp has been gone for a long time. He passed in 1955 when I was the ripe old age of one. So yes, that makes me 71 now!! Holy Frabblezackens!! During my childhood the TV was on pretty much all the time, so we got to enjoy lots of old movies. Then came the variety shows with my favorite popular music and comedy acts. Many of the performers I watched and loved have gone to the Great Beyond. Guess that means maybe I’m getting old!! Do I have an expiration date?? I just don’t know!! All I do know is that I’ve lost touch with which musicians, actors, etc. the young people are enjoying these days. I mean, we have this guy who goes by Bad Bunny getting ready to play at the Super Bowl, and until very recently I had absolutely no clue who he was. Saw him on Saturday Night Live the other night though, seems like a pretty good guy.

Losing touch ain’t so bad. I stay current enough… for me. Actually I have a pretty big boat load of gratitude for having lived in a time when I could enjoy the old and the new. Some of the music, in particular, doesn’t really rock my socks, if you know what I mean. But there’s lots of new music that is really great, I just have to go looking for it.

OK so Shemp has always been legal, but now he’s dead. Let’s enjoy some of his talent that has been preserved for us on the interwebs.