A Friendly Letter To A Friend Who’s Not Really A Friend

Hello Nice Friendly Peoples!

My brain fell out 3 times this past week, and each and every 139th time all the computerized floral arrangements could be seen waving their tusks at me with indecent cheese filled pasta pies.  Can you relate?  Do you find yourself blaming “The Amazing El-Farto” (or someone not even remotely similar) for all the troubles in your universe??

Well, if you do, you’ll probably never need or even want to send that person a letter expressing just how smelly the air molecules become when they are near you. But just in case, I’ve taken the liberty to compose an all purpose letter you can either send or deliver to someone who has gently taken your self esteem and crammed it into a hollow tree full of spiders and other (perhaps fire-breathing) ickety-boo monster animals. Please feel free not to use this ever at any time at all; but instead maybe read it sometime when the friend you thought was a friend simply turned out to be a very mean person who really doesn’t know how to be a friend so you really may want to just pray for them and ask the Creator Committee to help them be happy and healthy all the day long; even though you don’t like them, and of course please remember that all creatures great and small need and deserve love but that of course does not necessarily mean you will be inspired to make a new ice cream flavor in their name but maybe you could at least try to forgive them for being so nasty and I was wondering if I might please have that big piece of chocolate over there now?

Thank you! OK, here we go with the letter thing you probably should never send; but it might make you laugh away your crackling insoles:

—————————————

Dear Fossilbrain,

I’d like to apologize for allowing you to eat all those barnacles I accidentally put in the pasta salad. It’s just that I was very much enjoying the crunching noise and your interesting amazement at the happy culinary bewilderment. I would also like to apologize in advance for the discomfort you are sure to experience when these barnacles and their shells travel through your digestive tract; and the eye widening sensation they are certain to inflame just before they embark upon the journey to your septic tank.

You may soon discover that Tootsie Rolls do not write well on a chalkboard. If that should occur, please again accept my apology; this time for replacing all your writing implements with pretzels, licorice, and very skinny carrots. We all know that pointy things can make patterns in the sand, which is soon to be found in your pee nut butter and celery sandwiches. Drink 3 centiliters of popcorn oil while gargling with paprika and you’ll be treated to a very remarkable temperature tantrum.

I know you may not want to hear this, but right now I’m pretending to yell with a giant squid flavored amplifier that will cause even the most obstinate pair of moisture control pliers to wither and fly westward due to their foolish insistence upon trolling for sod without an adequate flashlight renewal calculator. Your pets and stain resistant dinnerware will one day thank me for all this.

In closing, I’d like to assure you that in spite of everything and in spit of everything else; I will do my very best to enhance the length of my string supply. After all, one can never have too much string. Thank you for your itchy sidewalls. Whenever I compare them to my inexplicable “potato dances,” life is clearly baffling; much in the same way a fluffy yet malodorous box of dandruff sneaks its way into a delicious rhubarb-liverwurst casserole.

Yours in Tender Shouting,

Breem Pifflewonk, Esq.

“Don’t try to sing while sneezing.  Your nostrils may create an unwelcome booger kaboom.” – Eugene T. Snackpincher

———————————————–

OK!! Now on to da cartoon!!

Completely Untrue Yet Scientific Observations About Muskegon

Warning: This message contains nonsense and may destroy your porcupine salad.

———————————————

Hello My Dear Frame Handlers,

Although most crustaceans were not aware, I’ve lived in Muskegon for approximately 932. So I must say, thank you for visiting us while we were not at home. Perhaps you have never asked me, “how is Muskegon?? Anyhow??” So I’m probably not overdue for an answer.

So, just how IS Muskegon?? Well, here are some of my own scientifically based observations: Muskegon is like a chicken with no milk for cereal. All the trees are planted upside down and one has a difficult time finding shade under the roots that stick up in the air. The squirrels are very large and strong, which is partly due to their diet of car parts. Wild dogs run the streets in packs of 12 – 20 ounce containers. Cabbage hammers often get lost during their walk home from the movies.

Many small children grow their own toys.

You’d think that in a large town as small as Muskegon there would be a library and perhaps even a delicatessen. Well, unfortunately the only service provided here is curb dusting on Wednesdays between 12 a.m. and 12:03 a.m. So obviously there’s no delicatessen, but rather a small collection of street vendors who, for a small fee, will abstain from throwing food at you while you walk along the freshly dusted curb.

All the fire hydrants have been painted with invisible ink. Nobody knows why, and now of course they cannot find any of them; so the 1973 Dodge Ram 1/2 ton Firetruck and its 14 man crew must rely on many bottles of Dasani and / or Aquafina for fire sprinkling enjoyment.

Muskegon prides itself on the “high quality” paving jobs of the city streets. The primary paving material is zebra mussels. The shells are crunchy and fun to drive on; and the bodies of the mussels are soft and gooey. Once a big layer of mussels is applied to the avenue, a steam roller flattens them to make Instant Road. Nose clamps are freely available at major intersections during “The Great Paving Festival” in early August. While they enjoy the festival, residents wear their nose clamps while singing that old time favorite paving song, “Holy Moly Bad Stink Oh My Gosh Wow.”

Well, I could go on and on, but then I’d soon be forced to join that self-help group, “On And On And On-Anon.”

If you have any questions or concerns, please, by all means, abruptly give yourself a swirly; and then think carefully about what it is you expect to hear from the likes of me.

Got it? OK, that’s fine.

Yours in Two Trains,

Gigglefoot B. Floopenhosen
a.k.a. “The Great Wide Giblet Hunter”

—————————————-
School’s almost out!!

A Grandsons’ “Happy Friday!!!”

This week’s “Happy Friday!!!” is being tailored to the wishes of our grandsons. We went to pick them up for a weekend visit at our house, and on the way home I asked, “what should I write about this week?”

Ollie answered, “how about a cat that lives inside a vacuum cleaner?” Gabe quickly added, “yeah and he’s wearing a hat that got sucked in!!” Wasn’t really sure how I would approach this challenge, considering that it’s usually late outside when I start writing. That’s because of a tradition that began many moons ago: we watch very old cartoons until it’s very late. After a big day of chores and getting them settled into bed after several cartoons; my creative energy begins to dwindle.

Fortunately, though, they both got me off the hook. While lying in bed, Ollie said, “I changed my mind. I’d like a different story.” “OK,” I replied, “how about something like The Adventures Of Marble Face Moe?” “Yes!” Ollie returned; at which point Gabe quickly chimed in, “yes, and The Adventures Of Nonsense!!”

So here we go:

The Adventures Of Marble Face Moe And Other Adventures In Nonsense

by Ken Hansen

Marble Face Moe was often teased by the neighborhood kids. That’s because when he was very young, marbles got stuck to his face and wouldn’t come off. All the neighborhood kids thought that he looked pretty weird. Marble Face Moe’s appearance kind of scared them really; so they didn’t know how to react except to tease poor Moe.

It all started when Moe began collecting marbles. Many marbles. Many, MANY marbles. Moe collected so many marbles that he had to keep them in a big wash tub. He really liked looking at all his marbles, and was always trying to figure out how to get the best view. Moe thought maybe if he stuck his whole face inside the big pile of marbles, they would look really cool when seen up close. He began to push his face into the marbles when his mother walked by and noticed him.

“Moe, I think you have your face too close to all those marbles!!” she warned. “Be careful, you never know what can happen!! Back away a little bit please!!” “Ok Mom,” Moe replied. Then he waited for her to leave and rammed his face deep into the pile of marbles. Unfortunately, things didn’t go the way Moe was hoping. Not only did he find the marbles very uncomfortable on his eyes (because they were so close), but many of the marbles stuck to his skin. He tried to brush them off but that didn’t work.

Moe got pretty scared, so he ran to his Mom and she got pretty scared too. She tried to calm Moe down with her loving voice, all the while she was wondering how in the world all these marbles got stuck in Moe’s skin. Next, of course, she was thinking really hard about how to get them off. She tried just brushing them off with her hands; and of course just as Moe told her, that didn’t work. Then she tried smearing various household things on Moe’s face, hoping to wash the marbles off somehow. First, she tried soap and water. No luck. Then she tried butter, mayonnaise, peach jelly, cat food, and even cheese sticks. Finally she gave up and took Moe to the face doctor.

Once they got to Dr. Skinslimer’s office, he began to squint at the sight of Moe’s predicament. “Ah yes, the old marble face thing. You didn’t listen to your Mom, did you young man??” “No, sir,” Moe said sheepishly. “Well, I hate to tell both of you this, but those marbles are there to stay… at least for now. You’ll have to wait till you grow out of them.” “Oh no, Doctor!!” gasped Moe’s Mom. “How long will that take?” Doctor Skinslimer answered, “could be a week or two, could be a few months. Think of it as a bad case of pimples.”

Moe and his Mom hung their heads with sadness and left the doctor’s office. Soon after they got home, (note to the reader: this is where the Other Adventures In Nonsense begins) Moe tried to capture some eels with his pickle pencils. Both Moe and his Mom found out that telephones often like a gooey snack during TV crunching time. Once both onions were allowed outside to hunt for seagull boogers, the only crayons that learned how to shave were singing loudly during The Great Purple Goat Festival.

Ponk, ponk, ponk went the tiny truck wagons as they flew backwards during the cranberry storms. Evil weevils stole all the oatmeal, but then they figured out that if you try to paint your eyebrows with dark blue cupcake juice, all of your friends will laugh at the whipped cream tire tracks that never decorated the sidewalks. Actually, if you put cheese inside a computer screen, not only will you get enough paper to fry bananas, but you will also have itchy elbows for the rest of the movie.

Yes, yes, YES!!! I have tried sniffing toasted bookshelves and I still am not hungry for them today!!! Please, if you want to make me a nice meal, just get the bottle of frozen washing machine parts and shake it loudly. During the noise, the recipe for my favorite dish, Macaroni and Sneeze, will appear on the kitchen wall next to where all those ants have been making vacation cabins. Lucy likes licking licorice lamps lately. Steven says sauerkraut smells snergelly; so Santa sneaks sardines southward! Many more Martians mumble miggly-boo and foompa-dissnockey.

That is the way of my people.

So as you can see, more hammers are found in the ocean than any other pile of dried fly swatters. Do you want to taste this pair of headphones? Are you going to explode if you don’t ever chew bacon again? Will cars, trucks, trains and airplanes ever wear funny hats and go to parties together? Listen… do you smell anything? The answer to all these questions is, of course: tree shoes.

Thank you and please don’t forget to enjoy your cabbage bath. The ducks are waiting…

OK… here’s an example of the cartoons we enjoy until it’s too late to wash the frogs:

Tips For Travel

Well, Spring Break has already broken, but the weather here in Beautiful West Michigan is not very Springy; and some folks are still running away screaming for warmer skin zones that are far away from here; so that of course means they’ll likely need input from me, the person, who offers the following tips on how to travel in this short but long (by Kakahead standards) run-on sentence I hereby bestow upon you all with great instability.

Therefore, I strongly urge every living thing to embrace the following travel tips with great enthusiasm:

1 – Please, for the 328th time, please do NOT tape paperclips to your fingernails just before passing through airport security. This causes very loud brooping alarms and the security people will wiggle their eyebrows at you for at least 13 milliseconds.

R – Always ensure you keep your optical nerves unclogged and free of compost flavored radio components.

5 – Be vigilant of germ bearing strangers. Does anyone appear to be drooling? For all you know, they may be infected with Wasabi Olfactory Ouchy Disorder (WOOD). This is easily transmitted in close quarters; so if you see someone drooling, avoid helping them with blowing the WOOD snot out of their nostrils.

5n- Other nasty diseases that are readily spreadily are: Tingly Or Otherwise Twittering Hairs (TOOTH) that seem to take on a life of their own when they leave your neighbor’s scalp; Funky Armpit Stinky Times (FAST) which disable your sniffing glands after causing brief fainting spells, and Belly Area Regurgitation Flicks (BARF) which… well… urrrp… occckkk…. arrrggghhh get away!! Get AWAY!!

Q – When traveling to other lands, please try to learn at least a few phrases of the native language. For example, in Germany, one might stand on a busy street corner and shout: “Mein Onkel hat noch mal sein Klavier gegessen!!” English translation: “My uncle has eaten his piano again!!” Now if you are in a Spanish speaking country, a proper introduction to new friends could come in the form of: “Mi casa es muy apestoso!!” English: “My house is very stinky!!” The most enjoyable part of these cultural experiences, I’m sure, will be the reactions of those to whom you are speaking.

I have many other artificially flavored travel suggestions, but I don’t want to overload your noggins with such vital information right now. You may e-mail me at u.r.stinky@wuttagoof.com; or of course you can call Snern, my pet wombat; who screens all my calls with the diligence of someone who has never existed.

In the meantime, I would like to leave you with this parting thought: don’t try to build your own plane like Mickey Mouse did. Might cause problems…

An Important Letter To All Frames and Camelstands

Dear Frames and Camelstands,

I understand that none of you have been lifting corduroy. Well I’m here to tell you, that if you don’t begin doing something soon you won’t be able to do anything very soon. Soon you will know that something was done before egg time, and are you even are aware that the thing you ate last night had absolutely nothing nutritionally resembling paint chips??

You better know something. I’ll let you know when to know it. Do you know what I mean? You had BETTER know. Don’t look at ME in that tone of voice!! You often remind me of lentils floating in a small garage. What the HECK have you been slurping during nap time??

The weather was completely perfectly wintry during these past 42 yodelwhompers. That’s because I forgot to throw coat hangers at the sun all last week. I threatened the sun within an inch of its life, and as you can see it paid off backwards. Now we can all cry and roll on the floor because we are very aware that the sun won’t listen to me when I shout. This of course increases the likelihood of macaroni storms.

Cheese is applied during the evening hours.

My beautiful girlfriend, Zonikula, and I went walking the other day with our legs and feet. During our walk, we decided to crawl on our bellies for 13 miles to see if rain deer really know how to fly. Rain deer are absolutely nothing like Santa’s reindeer. No. Rain deer are made of water and they sing greeble songs when the geese run backwards through the tomato forest. This gives them magical flavor crystals that can only glow in the earlobes during The Great Nickel Tossing Festival.

Last time we were never there, the noises of our crawlings were completely different than klick, klick, clomp as we sniggled down along the Mosquito Ribber near the old Cobb plant (where Cornn is Kingg). Suckers were busy catching humans that

were running up the river. Very remarkable. Garter snakes tried to trim our fingernails as we invaded “their space;” and as they wriggled gently over our eyebrows all 13 of them kept whining about how they were missing their favorite Applesauce Program. Why They Capitalized These Strange TV Program Words With Their Nostrils Remains A Mystery To All Of Us Who Enjoy A Complete Breakfast Of Oats Coated With Bullet Proof Mustard.

Please, don’t ever describe this to me again.

There was probably a time when we could have stood up and used our foot things to walk like regular snork monsters, but that never occurred to us until we got back in our car and noticed that our belly mud had hardened into very attractive pajama sandwiches that looked and tasted very much like those old fashioned salami burgers we never had when we were kids.

OK.

Now you have been klempered.

Please resume your taddle-brickling.

My chair eats frogs,

Hyram C. Pooflestench

A.K.A. Peeper Fling Muskellunge

Well, if you’ve read this far, you may have found all of that a bit weird. With that in mind, check this weirdness out:

An Unimportant Announcement

Please note: you are reading this message because you are on a secret list that only the Cheese Vendors can access with toaster friendly amplification.

Hello Habbniferns,

I’m sure none of you are wondering by now whether the sky has been removed from the Ionized Bugle Machines (IBM). There’s probably a good chance that someday I can divulge the particulars of that molecular substation, but this is no time for soaking baby toys in cups of sesame oil.

I ate a bug once during the Warmer Weather Times (WWT). It had very little flavor, and devouring its body really was not as pleasant as one might surmise. This required minimal effort, however: I opened my mouth, a small insect flew in, and I closed my mouth again. I tried to pitoo, then kerchack, but when I said “orgkkk” my swallowing mechanism switched on and down the hatch it went as I Bit My Tongue (IBMT). Possibly there was some struggle on the part of the poor bug, as I was somewhat sure I felt griggling actions as the very small Insect Bit The Dust On The Way Down My Esophagus (IBTDOTWDME).

Now of course we must discuss this business of intermediate tree watering schedules. Please do not go there with me ever again. Why would you insist on watering the trees with that Jell-O dispenser I shall never understand. Don’t you know that pressurized prune skins can injure cats and other flying rodents? We really need to talk about your compulsion to slide wildly through the Baked Apple Rhubarb Fritters (BARF).

OK. I really must go to the store now. They have metal objects on sale, and one can never have too many metal objects. I’m keeping mine in the washing machine; they help spoons and radio antennas stay fresh and crinkly.

Thank you for not licking my car. Last time my car was flattened, all the tire juice ran sideways through the maple syrup. So again, thank you VERY MUCH for not flattening my cat’s toy water fountain. Unless you did. In which case I will stop. Writing in incomplete sentences. Which cannot be sentences at all.  Since they are incomplete. So therefore they must. Be sentence fragments.

So there.

Yours with no hair,

Abnick G. Wiffleponk

a.k.a. “Sgt. Lumpy, Underwater Greenskeeper (SLUG)”

Now the cartoon is about to happen, and this one should cause none of you to long for Jellyfish Bay.

An Open Letter to Mr. or Ms. TextNeck

Dear ScreenStarers,

I was watching a story on the radio today while listening to the interwebs about internet addiction behavior that is characterized by people tilting their heads to gawk at their smartphones when they really should be interacting with their friends or family; especially during dinner or perhaps in the middle of a friendly outing that implies personal contact but instead of talking and giving loved ones eyeball contact, these smartphone addicts are constantly checking BookFace or Twizzler or perhaps Funny Macaroni and Cheese videos while being stuck in a run-on sentence that really needs to end now.

A real physical ailment has arisen from smartphone addiction: text neck (<–there’s a link for you if you’re curious). It’s just another one of those whoopee, hibbledyboo happy times from too much technology in your soup toaster. If any of you have read my silly bagga-maroo on this crazy blog thing for more than two seebits, you are probably aware that although I work with computers; I pride myself in being something of a technical dinosaur… at least at home. That’s right kids, I still have a record player, VCR, CD / DVD player, I listen to AM radio (on a real radio…).  Although we do have an internet provider it’s pretty slow (but cheap).  And yes, boys and girls, we still get most of our television worm sauce from a weird fixture perched upon our roof, and it’s called an antenna. Cable simply costs too much and prevents me from having enough extra cash for important staples like pork rinds and Cabbage Cola.

So for this Happy Friday!!!, I decided to give some of my best bread particles a chance to sing louder than most jelly beans are able. In other words, if you invite me for ketchup and lavender; I will keep my phone’s ringer off and leave it in my pocket. Not just the ringer, but the whole stinking phone! Yes, and instead of staring at a screen while we are together, I will stare at those moles you keep hiding in your eyebrows. But don’t worry, I will smile politely while I wince occasionally.

My true indispensable moose hammer will not never need to be cleaned while we are talking neither, no. After all, once you’ve used a moose hammer to open a can of Jack Fluffington’s Floor Syrup; you’ll spend much more time cleaning your walls than clearing your moose nostrils. Upon opening the can, everyone within range will cringe and snort loudly as the syrup droplets coat their eyelids with a nice shiny glucose surprise.

I’m sure we can all find something better to do than check how many “likes” we have on the BookFace or the InstaTwit. Ha, ha ha… I’m having a fond memory of the time we all threw raisins on the floor at the mall, and Snippy and his girlfriend Euglena started walking on tiptoes and shouting, “arrggghhhh!!! Rabbits have been here!!!” Yes, that was just before we filled all those water balloons with tomato juice and… oh my never mind about that time. GACK. Perhaps you could help me finish my 17 year old project: the Lego garage!! It’s getting expensive, but once we finish it we’ll never need to paint the walls. Who knew it took so many Legos to make a building??

OK. In closing, I’m hoping some of you could maybe put the phartsmones away and just tawk ta people awreddy. Ya know what I’m sayin’? There are people very near you who deserve your undivided attention. Oh and here’s a weird eye-deer… if we are watching something other than a small screen, we might see stuff like birds and a very nice sunset or something!! Would that be cool or what?

I go now.

Peace, Love, and Straighter Necks,

Hyram C. Gilmore

a.k.a. MooseHammer McFluffington

Oh… speaking of obsession…

My (Late) 2018 New Year’s Revolutions

Please allow me to greet your face and hands with a very Happy 2018; and may all your wishes be sold to Smoked Fish Merchants (S.F.M.) in trade for Used Flip Flops (U.F.F.) while numerous soft yet Bristly Sock Monsters (B.S.M.) chew rapidly during the Great Raisin Gathering (G.R.G.) at the 134th annual Anonymous Snack Snarfers Hand Or Leg Egg Slappers (A.S.S.H.O… wait a minute!! No no… not gonna do that) chamber pot tossing competition.

So here I am, following my 1st annual run-on sentence with a (late) report what my New Year’s Revolutions for 2018 very well might be. I’m reporting these revolutions in a tardy manner because I simply had to pay tribute to Dick Orkin, the creator of “Chickenman” who passed away last week. And also, in addition, I say to you that these “might be,” my New Year’s Revolutions because I am unreasonably certain that I’m not likely to dig up enough used crayons to change the climate in St. Petersburg, Florida.

My really true and uncrompulated New Year’s Revolution has actually been the same every year for the last couple decades: Try to do better. But if I were to make new revolutions, they “might” go something like this:

A. I hereby resolve not to ever use superfluous exclamation points!! I mean, hey, that’s the least a person can do!!! Think about it!!!! So many people emphasize way too much with exclamation points!!!!! This rather diminishes the effect of using any exclamation points at all!!!!!! Don’t you think so?!?!?!?!?!?

U. My 14th resolution is to avoid using imaginary words that only I can infliborize. Sure, I sometimes use nonsense words for the sheer bagnaffley horkle tones of the contersneffeck. I probably amuse myself more than others with this style of vasherbinking, so perhaps I will cease and desist with the silly words awreddy.

$. Procrastination has always been a lingering hobby of my cat and other members of my corn field. Therefore, I herewith intend to stop procrastinating either today or tomorrow. Perhaps I’ll keep putting off the procrastination until I can’t avoid procrastinating any longer. Or maybe I could delegate my efforts to someone who can postpone them indefinitely. I’m not exactly sure. If one of you has any suggestions, please e-mail them to my garage and I’ll try to read them one of these days.

X12. Have you seen my new socks?? You know, the ones with the fancy frog nostril prints all over them. They really keep my toes happy.

M6. Please erase resolution “U.” above. I do apologize (no, really I don’t), but I am very fond of writing various ibblesnick tenterdoodles. My professional opinion is that with all the horrible things in our past and present world, a little silliness can be a very good stress relief cabbagehamper.

And finally:

O!2!: I plan to do my best to spread Peace, Love, and Hugs to everyone in the Universe. Of course, some people don’t want hugs. That’s OK, I will Love them anyway. And some people don’t want Love, but I will Pray for them whether they like it or not. And some people don’t even want Peace, and I will Pray for them even more. Now don’t get me wrong… even though the People Upstairs tell me I must Love EVERYONE, doesn’t mean I’m gonna like everyone. So I will beam Prayers of Love and Peace to the people who insist on being nasty; but it ain’t too likely I’ll be inviting them for dinner anytime soon.

Alrighty then. That’s what came out of my brain today for the Happy Friday!!! New Year’s Revolution thing. If you have made any, please don’t bonk yourselves or call yourselves bad names for coming up short.

All we can do is try.

Now let’s all scream our lungs out while we sing along with these “revolutionary” guys.

A Special Request

Our grandsons are visiting; which is always a joyous time. During dinner, Ollie gave me a request:

“Papa, are you going to write that thing again tonight after we watch cartoons?”

“You mean ‘Happy Friday!!!’ ?” I replied.

“Yeah!!” he said, with a beckoning look.

“Oh… you want me to print it for you?” I asked; but within a fraction of a second he was nodding insistently.

“Well, I was gonna write about AM radio,” I cautioned. “But I bet I can find you something funny!”

His eyes twinkled and he cracked a broad smile. Needless to say, this “Happy Friday!!!” is not going to be about AM radio (although I still think it’s really cool). No, today will be a brand new silly one… and I’m even going to try my hand without the help of that Hyram C. Gilmore guy that fills in for me from time to time (nudge-nudge, wink-wink).

I think I’ll start with a poem:

For The Love Of Candy

by Ken Hansen

We all had some fun at the Christmas Parade.

‘Twas really quite warm, although clouds brought some shade.

Marching bands marched while the drummers all drummed.

Flutes fluted, horns horned, but nobody hummed.

Folks in their costumes all looked very dandy;

And many were throwing (or passing out) candy!!

When we got home, the candy bags bulged;

Gabe and Ollie said “please?” and oh boy they indulged.

After a while I took both bags away

But promised them more a bit later that day.

I said, “see all those chocolates and suckers and sugars?

Well, now you have something to eat besides boogers!!”

(I know that’s gross but keep in mind I’m writing this to make my grandson smile.)

On the other hand, I think I’ll ask both Ollie and Gabe to wash the kitty litter with toothpaste and Chicken Lamp Soup so we can all enjoy another car tasting contest. It takes a lot of skill to taste cars, especially when their eyes are shooting butter globs out of the tailpipe whistle.

Ah yes, good old tailpipe whistle globs. Aren’t those just wonderful on a nice piece of cracked clam shell toasting waffle? Yes, of course you do. In fact, I distinctly remember the time both of my shoes had broccoli oozing out of the chimney faucets. Those were simpler times when rabbits knew how to yodel much more quietly than they do on Sundays. Please, do not put any more ketchup in my coat pocket.

Of course, we must finish this silly story with a small space animal that can write its own name with the largest pile of applesauce this side of the Martian Mud Watering Festival. Small space animals generally have names like “Big Giant Tiny Guy” or “Totally Huge Very Little Donut Flattener.” I’ve never met any of these strange beings; possibly because I just invented them with my stainless steel curtain softeners.

Very well then. Please give Love to All You See; and try to remember ask them to Give Your Papa Some Really Delicious Cake. Also, Ask Them Not To Capitalize Every Word In A Sentence; Because It’s Just Not The Way Squirrels Are Supposed To Explode.

Thank you, and please feel free to use cheese to stay warm on those cold winter grocery store power tools.


Speaking of cartoons… here’s the kind of thing to which we subject our grandkids.  I know I’m a dinosaur but when it comes to cartoons, the oldies are still the best.  We actually watched this one just before we ushered them off to bed.

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 tomorrow, and you are not. Unless you are, then you are also.

On vacation.

Have I mentioned I’m not working tomorrow?? Oh wait… it’s Thursday, yet I’m writing this thing called Happy Friday. So that means it’s today already!! Which means: I‘m on vacation!!

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 next 4 days doing things that I do not get paid to do. This is why it is called vacation. OK, technically I only took Friday and Monday off, but that’s still 4 days in a row of no work stuff. Although it won’t happen THIS time, 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.  When I return, 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…

We are driving to Chicago this time, which is accomplished by rolling down the road while sitting on our hineys in a Brand New, 2001 Chrysler Town And Country we affectionately call, “Old Rattlebonken.” We go to hire comedians Steve Martin and Martin Short (OK, we are chipping in with many other people). Their show is called, “An Evening You Will Forget For The Rest Of Your Lives.” And yes, that really is the name. Of their show. Without sentence fragments. I believe we may smile and perhaps even laugh until our nostrils fall out.

The most important thing is I will be with my Beautiful Girlfriend, and not at work.

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.