Ever have a cold that just didn’t seem to go away? Well I once had one that started on October 13, 2125 at approximately 12:17 PM and lasted for a -9 years and 10 days. Perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration… but seriously folks, that “cold” stuck around way too long. My doze got stubbed up, add it stodded rudding, I coughed and coughed and coughed, and den I had to use up da whole box of tissues every hour; which became rather expensive.

The wonderful woman I live with shocked me after several days of this ordeal when she said, “Umm, I think your cold is lingering way too long. You might have a sinus infection.” I’m not sure how she felt qualified to say such things. Just because I’ve been coughing and sneezing and running a low grade fever and also hacking and pitoo doesn’t necessarily mean I have a sinus infection.

Does it??

Being the enlightened man that I am, I decided to invent a number of methods that would be certain to bring any so-called “sinus infection” to its knees, so to speak. I thought I’d better pass these on to all of you because I’m sure you are interested in following my exact instructions.

Without any further ado, here are the methods, in order of magnitude.

1) Get an eighteen inch length of surgical tubing and shove it deeply into your nostril. Connect the other end to a faucet using an appropriate adapter. Turn on the water quickly, then off just as quickly. Be certain to turn the faucet completely on during this operation to apply maximum pressure. Repeat on the other nostril, then repeat the entire procedure at 3 hour intervals. This will flush out any germ infested mucus.

After 2 days, if symptoms persist:

R) Continue with the water flush, but after each flush use an ordinary toothbrush to clean each nostril. Be sure to remove any clingons from the bristles after each flushing operation. Discard the clingons in the usual manner: rub them on the underside of the sofa or flick them into an inconspicuous corner.

Still having difficulty? I see… try this:

9) Place a birthday candle inside each nostril. DO NOT LIGHT THE CANDLES!!! Whadda you, crazy??? Sheesh! Hold each candle between thumb and forefinger and apply inward pressure while twirling the candles back and forth. This will lubricate your nasal passages and allow clingons to be more easily removed in steps 1) and R). This of course reminds me of that popular melody:

If you ever get a cold that lasts too long;

Stick some candles in your nose and sing a song.

Well OK, maybe I just made that up. But hey, do you still hab a stubby doze?? OK, one more try:

@*) Request the assistance of a trusted friend or loved one. Hand them a ping pong paddle, have them stand behind you with the paddle held parallel to the back of your head. Have them be ready for “the signal.” Fill a glass with ginger ale and place two drinking straws in the glass. Insert a drinking straw into each nostril. Now you are ready to give “the signal,” at which time your helper should whack the back of your head with the paddle. This will cause an involuntary snorking of ginger ale deep into your sinuses; which will of course fizz out any congestive fluids.

I personally have not tried any of these methods, so once you’ve given them a whirl please report back to me as to their effectiveness.

So… remember that wonderful lady I mentioned earler? You know, my “new” partner (we’ve been a couple over a year now)? Well guess what she did?? She said, “I’m pretty sure you need to go to the doctor.” I’ve learned (too often the hard way) that it’s often best to just follow orders.

I went to the doctor. She said, “You have a sinus infection.” “Oh,” I replied. “What do I need to do?” “I’ll prescribe some antibiotic pills for you,” she answered.

I got the prescription filled for FREE at our local pharmacy!! Is that cool or what??

So I wondered, “What, do I just shove these up my nose???”

Could’ve been worse, Goofy got a bad one…

Hello Marvelgrabbers,

May I be the first one to wish you Happy Friday!!! The world is still flat and all the flaming custard pies are of course round as the day is long. Smothered in onions and dripping with gravy, the happy toast salesman changes his underwear more often than a bread flavored pair of zircon encrusted tweezers!! If any of the sentences in this paragraph are not complete!! Please use the localized amnesia to invigorate the invertebrates!! These superfluously punctuated exclamations not to be endured!!!!!

Now there may be a time when time is short, and at that time, please try either thyming or rhyming, depending on the length of your very own noodle fasteners. There may be hours of whistling ahead of each and every one of us. Just pucker your lips and kiss the lightning bugs before they turn left at that silly USB port over there. I don’t care if they insist upon recharging their hineys!! Don’t they know that bio-luminescence is fortified by part of this delicious breakfast??

Huck. Hucka Hucka! Apply Hucka Hucka fastener jelly each and every midnight on the bread and Holy Cow eat the darned thing before the dogs catch a sniff. I’m sure you all know what happens when sniff fasteners change lanes during a staple storm. In order to avoid the obvious need for renting electric staple removers, I wrongly suggest not using electric stables in the first place. After all, electric stay bulls will merely insight a rye out when Victor, the Prize Bull of Lockawanna County takes a whiz on that electric eel you so cleverly dressed as a butter sniffing clown.

Now I must go. Please don’t ask me to explain any of this. I merely had too many burrito molecules lodged in my sandals during the last 14 episodes of “Melvin The Mailman Makes Marinades.” As I’m sure none of you are aware, this week’s episode finds Melvin licking telephone poles and other small animals in search of that elusive Marinade Holy Moly. I’m sure once he discovers the incorrect ingredients, a very unsatisfactory Mystery Marinade will make even the sleepiest Great Blue Heron stand proudly in the swamp. Then, when his guests sample the finished product, there will be intestinal volcano in epic contortions. All will be delighted to induce vomiting during commercials.

In conclusion my friends, as I’ve often screamed: 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.

Please pass the gravy,

Kibble G. Wibnerdort

a.k.a. “Freebert Firesauce”

And now for some audiovisual amusement: two videos to store in your smiling cabinet.

Dear Sacktoasters,

I’m not sure where to begin with this inflammatory bag of indecent composure. One can only imagine the amplified indigestion that crackles loudly during The Urinary Festival that never takes place under small slices of cheese. The hundreds of port-a-potties rented during the festival are clumsily decorated with used corn and horribly undercooked radio vines. This of course gives them their adorable yet pungent odor that will curl your eyebrows from a distance of at least 334.

On the other hand, while choking on festival foods you may require the Hind Kick maneuver, which is totally disgusting and miserably ineffective. It’s also possible you could receive the Hand Lick maneuver on both hands. If so, please don’t go around calling crayons bad names.  Your piers may not even want to try it. And of course, if you add an “L” to “piers,” you get “pliers,” and that’s what Herman the Zinc Miner will use to pinch your septum every single time the Three Stooges investigate the Twighlight Zone.

An important event that never occurred reminds me of the time I opened the window and several nonfurry checkbook carriers escaped and ran through the intersections. As I saw this, I twinkled my toes and exclaimed, “Holy Photonic Calibration!! There go four of my unused satellite receivers!” If you see them, it’s likely they will be traveling with soup and perhaps even potato cartilage. This flavor based combination will intimidate even the best of all your political cappuccino. Why anyone would even attempt to varnish tomatoes is way beyond my constitution.

Clang clang clang go the whistles, enjoying help from Above and Oh my God my socks are draining again. Above refers to a place higher than me, where birds, helicopters, and dragonflies enjoy friendly “Hey let’s watch The Exorcist again” parties. If you happen to be near such a gathering, please run from the wildebeest and leave a trail of Poppin’ Fresh doughnuts so we can find you when it’s time to do the dishes.

Are you trying to annoy me with that cheap imitation of a screen door you call “Lermick??” Well, just so you know, you’ll never make any Cracker Barrel Surprise with that silly rubber spoon you’ve hidden in the sofa cushions. I beseech you, never attempt to wave your antler hammers at my pet goat fish while she’s washing the television. This never happened before, and probably will never happen again at least 43 times or less. Unless, of course, the bread turns left at the next power pickle.

Someone stole eleven percent of my brain. This makes the chore of even normale typeikng vyery diffiddicult indeeded.n Sol I lleave youoyou noww, bbefoorew I cane nlwo longerers type * at # Alle.’

By buy,

Nivnick Blastfinkle

Strontium Inspection Specialist

3003 Ozone Olympics

P.S.: Soon I will buy you some string you can use to persuade insects to do fancy tricks.

Unless your name is Bimbo and you are trying to join a fraternity…

Once upon a time, our grandsons were visiting again, and as was the tradition for Friday night, I asked their input for some Happy Friday!!! story ideas. Often I couldn’t transcribe their bantering quickly enough, but that night I had to do a significant amount of nudging. I asked Gabe first, and his immediate response was, “Ummm ummm I don’t know.” Ollie didn’t have much to offer either.

Then, I illustrated the magic of “talk to text” on my iPhone. I opened Notes, and hit the microphone icon and started talking. This can be quite a lot of fun for a silly child like me, because if I utter complete gibberish the phone does its best to translate my weirdness into actual words. Example: after saying a slew of nonsense with mouth and vocal cords, I got the following: Giovanni on Christo room act able to roam if Nick and eat Cambord on Fandor me qua Dodd both back.

Not sure if “qua” or “Dodd” are words. I’m still a child in old man’s clothing so I actually engage in this silliness while texting to friends or family. Some renditions are much funnier. However, my daughter has beseeched me not to text here in that way because when I do she becomes concerned about my mental fitness.

Anyway… I thought I’d try to get the brainstorms rolling by telling my phone: “My cat is doing a science project on me and it’s preventing me from sleeping properly.” Ollie’s face lit up a bit, and he immediately replied, “Your cat’s name is Boogle by the way.” Then I asked him to continue, again with the microphone active on the phone. “I can’t think of anything but that is not what I thought of,” Ollie said.

“What kind of magazines do snakes eat?” I asked. Ollie replied, “Mice flavored or other small rodents. But the flavor’s not really actual mouse flavor, it’s more like like fake banana flavoring or fake cherry. Not really an actual fruit flavor.”

Then I turned to Gabe. “Really right for you how many pounds of dog food do you eat every day?” is apparently what the phone thought I said. Gabe answered, “25.” Then I mentioned that 25 pounds is a lot of dog food!! So I continued, “Yes but how much baloney can you stick in your nose?” I asked. “25 phones,” Gabe replied.

Back to Ollie. I wondered aloud, “When radios calibrate themselves what color are their nostrils?” The phone was sure that Ollie’s answer was: “I see you like a mix between Hughes and a sky blue!” I continued the query: “What are spaghetti molecules made of ?” Ollie said, “Well I mean I don’t know but they’re rather delicious. Not sure I want to know.”

So my friends, these were the types of discussions that never occurred at our house. Please do not try to derive any hidden meaning from this small box of brownie mix, it will merely confuse your pets and they may even try to teach you molecular mapping during your nocturnal napping.

Or not.

On the other hand, you have the old masters…

Dear Friends,

I am hope you are not cry of the way my typing put words to the eyes of you. I am decide that because the news is hurt my nostrils very ouch this month year, I have been wanted to make laugh with bad practice (or maybe malpractice) of the English using. Also seldom but often I must invent words while the fingers slap this keyboard to noggle your hinterbloops until your smiling jumps backward during the Boiling Antler Realignment Fixtures (B.A.R.F.). In edition butt all sew, I may place words that sound like watt I mean but are knot the write words. So today I am break from nobody’s Bahama Llamas without forcefully project flotation of sinking waterlogged pretzel carriers. You, of all, people. Know what I mean? Isn’t it confusing! When someone punctuates a sentence! Incorrectly even though it is really? A sentence fragment?? And therefore not a sentence? At all??

This instantly although very, very, slowly reminds me of the bad usage. Of commas. Or the forgetting. Of them. For the example, I will bring to your face the intentions of my example that below this typing of total barf-a-roo is crumpling.

Hear now is a foopy example of a comma prevention of death of elders:

Let’s eat Grandma!! (Are we to really devour Grandma??)

Let’s eat, Grandma!! (Oh Holy Wow!! C’mon Grandma, let’s eat awreddy!!)

So as you can see, Grandma’s life was saved by the insertion of a comma into the sentence; because it’s well known that cannibals have always been stopped dead in their tracks by commas while small birds flopped luminously through inverted snack tables made of inferior materials that have often been referred to as pure junk, but what the hey we got them at BugMart for the mere price of $12.37 with tax and why not try them out on those silly birds who obviously don’t even know they’re stuck in this ridiculous run-on sentence which is yet another example of very bad use of sentence structure and therefore slapping impudence in the face of any professor who may be reading this on the subway.

Thank you.

Yew sea, my goal in this small part of my life is two inject poorly amplified participles into the brains of others while they are going working on burned toast while saying things like “Hey all these participles are making my face say things I normally wood knot say.” And if I have convinced both or none of you to slurp loudly while eating a stalk of salary, well of coarse I have accomplished my task of beaming subliminal sectional sofa repair instructions into your daily speech repertoire.

You may thank me someday for this.

I must Finnish this silly scribbling now, as I fear that any further exposure to such garbonkulous yet stinky crabless salad may damage your hematoma. Sew I will clothes with the old saying that I invented many yargons ago but has failed to become a meme:

“It’s better to be you than for you to be me, and although you can count to it, EIGHT is a word.“

Thank you, and please slide safely through the slimy hallways of life.

Yours with no socks,

Rambledork G. Phlegmfinder

a.k.a. “Herbert The Human Cat”

So now let’s turn the clock back when movies were silent and often very funny.

Well here we are again, snacking on yet another “Happy Friday!!!” My sincere hope is that all or none of you find some solace in this solar sanitation secretion after looking at the radio or reading the news on TV. I mean, there’s an awful lot of awful going on in the world these days; but I’m not going to venture into snarbbling or rant loudly with perkapachoopy bird fart dessert toppings.

It’s just too doggone painful!!

No, instead I think I’ll just reflect on how blessed I am. For example, I have plenty to eat, a warm, safe place to sleep, a most amazing “new” partner (we’ve been a couple for a little over a year now)… I could go on and on but I think you get the idea.

I also have stuff!! Too darn much stuff really. For example take my iPhone. No really!! Just take it!! No… not really. It’s mine and you may not have it. Yes, as you may have inferred by the title of this document, I am the proud owner of a brand new iPhone 8. I received it from work back in 2022 I think… no wait!! Might have been 2018!! Heck I dunno… I’ve had it for a long time. I just keep it in an Otterbox Defender case and I can run over it with a bulldozer so it will be completely destroyed. Since I don’t have a bulldozer, I’m just grateful that the Otterbox Defender case keeps it pretty much indestructible and it still works just fine.

And no, I don’t need a new one, thank you anyway!! Sheesh, I just had the battery replaced a couple months ago!! Only cost me $63.70… but I gave the guy $75 because he is a business owner / sales / repair guy (looks like he’s a one-man operation); plus he did a great job pretty quickly.

I retired from the computer work world universe, and although I do enjoy technological toys, mine are (obviously) mostly prehistoric ones. I’m one of those weirdos who carefully researches electronic stuff before buying; then I spend a little more on quality stuff because I know it will last a while. You know, my Pioneer dual cassette player / recorder deck still works very well. I’ve only had it for about 24 years so I figure it’s likely I’ll be able to get a few more weeks of use out of it. Maybe even another 24 years!! Oh yeah, I bought my Yamaha HTR5490 receiver / amplifier around the same time so I figure it’s gonna have a 25th birthday soon too.

If you have any inkling that I enjoy living in the Jurassic period of technology, I would have to reinforce your perceptions by saying “Yes I do, and I like it very much thank you.” Then I will snicker and snergle which will perhaps cause all or none of you will be defended; and of course if that is the case I shall broop and geschnibble until the Lower Moon sinks into the toilet tank. Besides, if you’ve ever slept inside a small spare tire, you’d be surprised to learn that some molecules smell better outside than they do inside.

Now it’s very much past time to blurt out a very serious question to all involved: “Does a Heffalump have a whole lump or a half a lump?” Questions such as these could of course cause a run-on sentence unless they are kept in a well lit pantry for at least 12; but when crickets finally resign from their duties as auto mechanics, only the most critical crayon rashes can prevent a hummingbird moth from knocking on xylophone bones during The Great Pine Cone Races which are held annually each year with a spacing of 12 months at a time on the order of 1/10^th of a decade and like, you know, sometimes but not really.

OK??

Yes, have some.

Alrighty then. I suppose I’ll just resume washing the television shows I very much enjoy while all the silly, battery operated concrete blocks jump wildly from lane to lane on the interstate railroads. Is any of this making sense to you? I hope not!! If you are having difficulty looking for a “hidden meaning” or some sort of “symbolic embolism” or perhaps are seeking a “rational radiator” in all of this, please mail $12.37 and 17 box tops to:

Yodel Screechers Anonymous
24-7 Wildebeest Way
Honkingtown, Indibraskalania 49001-5

Ask for Mr. Rumpkin.

I leave you now with some very undergrown words that I never but always am urging with complete indigestion:

It is always better to be you than for you to be me, and although you can count to it, “eight” is a word.

Peace, Love, and Fuzzy Earlobes,

Hyram C. Gilmore
Professor of Turnip Juice
Gutcramp University

And now for something completely different. Well, maybe not completely…

So here we go with another moon voyage. Sure, it’s exciting, but in my professional opinion there are quite a few problems to be solved right here on Earth; so I often wonder why so much is spent on space missions and nowhere near enough is spent on taking care of our Mother Earth.

Anyway…

Seems like some Earthlings have long been obsessed with a very old question: Is there life on Mars? I pondered this myself for what seemed like hours, just before hitting my head on the pillow last night. As I drifted off to slumberland, very profound thoughts danced through my head bone.

So I’m like… Sheesh!! Those science folks are spending some big bucks researching this no-brainer “controversy” of whether there is life on Mars (or elsewhere). The answer is simple: Of COURSE there’s life on Mars!! Lots of other places, too. Folks in Hollywood have known this for years. My good friend Vexor the Sarganian laughed openly about the stupidity of Earthling scientists, and has often helped movie makers get the real picture. “Lobster Men From Mars,” for example. Lots of different kinds of folks out there on the other planets. We Earthlings are just too arrogant to embrace that idea.

Or maybe we’re just chicken!

Vexor is, of course, from Sargan: the 5th planet of Sector 23vx in the Skoldern Galaxy. A pretty cool dude, and he’s been around, if you know what I mean. He got that 479 Megazip Crambo-Leaper a couple yargons ago. It was used, but he got a good deal. Only paid 47 billion zangles for it, and he’s been tearing up the Interstellar Speedway ever since. He took me for a ride once, but I get starsick; and, well, I’ll just be staying on Earth for a while (I barfed on his crystal-regulated zoomophone).

Anyhower, he’s known about life “out there” for years. When I asked him about Mars, I think it upset him, though at first he just got this blank look on his face. Then he scrunched up his eyes, and blurted out, “Where the heck ya think all those chocolate candies come from?? Says `Mars’ on the back, don’t it?? Jeez, man, don’t you pay attention?” I sat there, dumbfounded, as he continued to illustrate my cosmic ignorance.

“You can even smell them making the chocolate from Earth,” he ranted. “All you have to do is go to Hershey, Pennsylvania and look through a telescope at the beautiful Red Planet. Before you know it, you’ll smell chocolate.”

“What’s so special about Hershey… hey, wait a minute,” I said, grinning. “That’s where the Hershey bar factories are, you Moogle Framer! Ha, you got me there. Ha ha.” Vexor laughed too, and slapped me on the back playfully with his dretzel. Then he put me in my place again by noting that he hadn’t been called a Moogel Framer in over 43 durns. I guess I used an obsolete expression. “Nice try, though, you silly Zoff Pinkler!” he chortled. He thought that was pretty darned funny, but I was getting a bit impatient. Vexor picked up on my frustration pretty quickly, and being the sensitive Sarganian that he is, he returned to Mars as the focus of the conversation.

“Yep, you may remember back in the day when everyone was reading in the National Globe Star Enquirer that Elvis is alive. He’s making records on Mars, and doing quite well, thank you. His favorite candy is his own creation, the Hunka-Hunka bar. Some kind of cross between chocolate and a peanut butter sandwich.”

“What, no Snickers??” I asked this of him with a pretty strong tone. I was a bit shocked that Vexor hadn’t mentioned what I considered to be one of the best chocolate bars in the universe. “Of course,” I continued, “they are becoming the amazing shrinking candy bar. Something happened with the size lately, and they’re not quite as big as they used to be. Still cost just as much, though. Perhaps they should be renamed `Sneakers’.”

Vexor started tapping his pedplarbs and fidgeting with a small piece of croob. When I quit rambling, he started anew. “You wanna gab about junk food or you wanna hear about Mars??” He was almost shouting at me, so I shut up. “OK. Now, where was I?” he continued. “Oh yeah. Elvis. I remember the time he bought one of those fancy belts from Leroy. Helped him bring a lot more folks into his concerts at the Martian Mosh Pit there in New Kramia.”

I was puzzled. “Leroy??” I queried. “Who’s this Leroy?”

“Duh,” Vexor chided. “Don’t you Earthrats know anything? Leroy Aster! You know, the inventor of the Asteroid Belt! All those shiny things on his custom made belts really bring in the crowds. Gotta have good technicians to train the lights on them just the right way, of course. Those Gleebnoogles from Jupiter really go nuts for that stuff. They spend thousands of smoglards just to get a peek!”

He had a great time reminiscing. He paused and tilted his head back, rolled his eyes and shook with laughter as he recalled some of the fun he and his girlfriend Vosk had at some of those Elvis concerts last month. Wasn’t long before I was being treated to his best bag of dehydrated skunyon and a tall glass of brak-ma-gar.

Then the alarm clock went off…

But wait!! Perhaps it wasn’t a dream!! I forgot about Marvin!!!

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

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

Dear Pasta Snarfers,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps a poem should be inserted at this point…

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

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

Thank you.

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

I wanna celebrate with Grampy!

Dear Beautiful Everyone,

In keeping with my very own tradition which I have started all by myself on this blog thing; I’d like to ring in the shiny new 2025 Holiday Season with a reminder to you all that the time has once again arrived again once more, yet again and it’s like here already; even though I’ve truly overused the workd “again” in this run-on silly sentence that really only needed to again remind you that this is the time of year with the Ho Ho Ho and the Randolph the Rude Nosed Rain Deer and Frosty the Snotman and of course the Commercials and the Holiday Flatulence Delays during my cat’s friend’s Tree Lighting Matrimony.

In other words, Happy Holiday Season to All Of You, Wherever You Are. And yes, that Right noW I Know I Am capitalizinG words InCoRrEctly but I simplY do that FoR thE fUn of it.

Sew Their.

As many of you may know, it’s around this time that I deliver my Holiday Requirements List For All Humans To Embrace Fully And Without Question. Sure, I’m an old hippie who grew up during the ’60s and have often been dismayed by what seems to be worldwide greed and disparity. However, in my own case of being completely silly and with the full intent of sending a smile or two; I hereby place into print the items I require as gifts for this year.

Actually, I don’t need anything. I’ve been blessed beyond measure with a nice home, and a beautiful family who are both near and far. However: Please note, that although I’m very grateful for everything I have and (for the most part) everyone I know; I still need more stuff and I want you to go get it for me now or perhaps yesterday or the day before. OK? I mean hey, I don’t wanna get nasty or nuttin’ wit you. Just get da stuff like I ask fer it.

Got it?

Good!!

So without delay, here is MY LIST OF HOLIDAY REQUIREMENTS FOR 2025:

A*) Please get 3 of the 17 Liter containers of Uncle Zelnish’s Concrete Polish. I’ve been buffing our sidewalk and driveway for quite some time now and can’t seem to get them shiny.

4n) I need another 7 lbs. of Marvel Mystery Raisin Skin Kaboom. It’s an awesome addition to sauces and also pretty darn good for tire repair. I used every last ounce I had last year, and now I can’t for the life of my find my flashlight or my Swiss Army knife.

c12) For my reading enjoyment, I’ll need an autographed copy of “How To Tell Your Best Friend’s Friend They Have A Booger,” by Dr. Hamilton “Sheila“ Snorkhammer.

x9) I’ve always needed some toenail growth regulators. I really dislike clipping my toenails, especially the ones on the Big Toe. I think there are research quality toenail toasters out there that inhibit fleas. Maybe those will work.

7!) Wow, remember those Zagnut candy bars we used to get when we were kids? I found out those are REALLY GOOD with coffee!! They have them at Cracker Barrel!! Don’t buy me any of those. Instead, just follow me around for a year or so and buy my meal when I go to Cracker Barrel. OK? Yes, and take care of the tip too if you don’t mind. I usually tip on a scale of 133 cents for every dollar spent on the meal; especially when someone else is footing the bill. Please don’t forget that part. That’s fine, thank you.

And finally…

V3) If you call ahead I’ll be very OK with you coming over and cooking up some fried chicken. Holy Moly I love that stuff. Sure, you could cheat and say you are cooking and then drop some Meijer and / or Plumbs fried chicken into a hot pan when I’m not looking. In my professional opinion, Meijer and Plumbs make some of the Best Fried Chicken In The West Michigan Universe. If you accidentally brought some over; this would cause me to salivate profusely and I might even invite you to stay and help me eat it. Maybe.

In the meantime, please tell your friends and family you love them. Or at the very least, show them you love them. You can do that with a smile, a hug, or by simply being kind. Be nice to a stranger. Sing out loud for happy. If you can’t sing, try whistling. Or something. Something good. Be willing to show whoever you may see that in spite of all the bad we hear about the world, there really is quite a lot of good stuff going on.

There really is you know.

Peace and Love to You All.

In case you were wondering, this is how all the stuff gets put together and prepared for delivery.