My Holiday Requirements for 2022

Hello my dear readers!

As we approach the Holiday season, many of you are scrambling to get gifts and goodies for your loved ones. Although inflation is making the gift giving bills sting a little this year, many of us are blessed with the ability to splurge anyhow. Please allow me to take this opportunity to wish you the very best shopping adventures, and of course, a safe and happy Holiday Season.

If you have been reading this silly blog for any length of time, perhaps you’re aware that this is the time of year when I jump on top of a large electronic milk crate to remind all of you that although you’re probably feeling some price pain this year, I feel it important to urge you to remember that I have some annual Holiday Requirements that are enumerated in “Happy Friday!!!” around this time on the calendar; and I must also interject that if you are not willing to fulfill my desires for material comfort I will of course be forced to continue this run-on sentence while wondering whether your cat ate any tinsel or perhaps your dog may have licked that ham that was on the platter just before guests arrived.

Gesundheit.

So without any further falderal, herewith I place my list of Holiday Requirements for 2022, which I’m sure all of you are eager to memorize to promote more efficient shopping.

1. I wish to obtain at least 12 winning Powerball tickets. One would be OK I guess, but if I’m going to have any chance of influencing global politics I will require at least 12. You may mail these to me… but if you choose to deliver in person I will gladly treat you to some of my famous grapefruit pie with a nice dollop of dingleberry ice cream placed somewhere near the plate.

N. I’m gonna need a Clutter Bomb Fallout Removal Tool (CBFRT… pronounced CABfart). Some jerk touched off a clutter-bomb in my garage, and there’s junk lying all over the place!! I mean ALL over… stuffed in the shelves, on top of the work bench… I think I still have an air cleaner for that old 1995 Plymouth Voyager!! Oh, and it’s still in the box in mint condition. It can be yours for a mere $297.14

9* Please bring delicious chocolate things. I mean unique stuff like those amazing chocolate earbuds nobody sells anymore. Those were delicious… but I’ll have to say the flavor is less wonderful once they’ve been coated with earwax a few times. Oh and not to forget those old fashioned chocolate covered pencils we never had in study hall. It was so much fun to watch bullies steal them and then take a big crunchy bite. I think you can still get those earbuds and pencils at Cracker Barrel.

7K. AAAaaahhCHOOO!!! Oh crap!! Hey, don’t sneeze with a mouthful of hot chocolate. After I get done cleaning my screen I’ll work on adding to my list of requirements. Oh GACK!! The marshmallows look like weird boogers!!! Gross!!

8X. Oh wow, they have some really cool Lego sets now, don’t they?? Star Wars, Lego Spider Man stuff, even a Lego City Train Station. Well I don’t want any of those. Instead, please let’s focus on the chocolate again please. Chocolate covered braunschweiger would be amazing, as would chocolate chip bologna I’m pretty sure. How about a nice box of chocolate celery brownie mix!! I love those combination packages. I open the box, flush the celery down the toilet, and stick my tongue in the brownie mix. This behavior really impresses my Beautiful Girlfriend. How do I know this?? Because when she saw me last time, she shouted, “Oh, Kenny!!” I was so surprised I sneezed and had to clean my screen again.

BQ. I need a gift certificate for some new hair seeds. You see, for the past… I dunno… 20 years maybe… some of my hair has been turning grey, and some has been turning loose. In other words, my mop is a bit sparse on top. I saw this cool thing on TV… not sure what the product was but they had this nice song: “Ch-ch-ch-CHIA!!” and they showed this cool thing where you spread seeds on a surface and VOILA!! Growth!! The one on TV shows plants but of course I would like the hair kind please.

Thank you.

So those are my Holiday Requirements for 2022. If you don’t have any willingness to comply with my urgent demands, well, I guess I’ll just let you know that I love you anyways. Whether you like it or not.

My real wish list is very simple… all I want for the Holidays is Peace, Love, and Harmony for all living things. Small request, right? Well of course I know I’m a bit idealistic to request anything like that; but I do pray for those very things pretty regularly. As I grow older, my other prayers have become pretty simple: I say “Thank You,” every day, I pray for the well being of others (but I let go of the results), and I ask for the ability to do the next right thing. I’ve learned (often the hard way) that I can’t change people, places, or things. All I can do is change how I react. I try my best to react with love whenever possible. You know, don’t sweat the small stuff; and of course everything is small stuff. I’m really hoping that more and more people will learn that LOVE is the answer. And of course we must get better at showing our love toward Mother Nature. After all, if we continue to injure Mother Nature, there will be no US.

May you all have a wonderful Holiday Season… cling to those you love and grieve the loss of those who have passed. Peace, Love, and Hugs to all of you.

And now, as was often said on Monty Python, for something completely different.

Purple Soup And Other Delicious Items

Once upon a time, in a garden approximately 100 feet from where my hiney is sitting, there was a garden that’s still there and food was planted for eating, both human and animal. Wait… just to reassure you, I do not plant humans or animals!! Also, the animals did not eat the humans; but we humans have eaten some animals in our time. We generally eat only their muscles, milk, or eggs. However, some humans are known to eat muscle egg milk and many other animal parts. Those humans have (just now) earned the scientific name anymunchers. Those crinkly individuals eat lots animal pieces-parts that other humans do not consider delicious.

So in this aforementioned garden, I planted chards, beets, parsnips, lettuces, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, garlics, beans, (pop)corns, squashes, and members of the cabbage family: please say hello to Budding Broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, and Tiny Turnips (planted them a bit late), all of whom (along with their kaley cousins) are still in the garden and are very happy to live there even in the dead of winter. All of these items are very delicious indeed. However, chards and beets (both of whom are also in the same family), had to be harvested before the Big Freezes come, because they would otherwise be frozen to death and rendered non-delicious. Well the beet roots might survive a deep freeze (temperatures in the 20s or lower) but the greens, not so good.

And we do love beet greens.

We’ve eaten beet greens raw in the past… they are quite nice when picked very early and added to salad. However, our favorite way to eat beet greens is to simply steam them with about an inch or so of water in the bottom of the pot and blast the heat on high until the steam makes the top of the pot start to dance. The result is a very tender and delicious side vegetable that makes a fantastic addition to just about any warm meal. The other day we had some with some pig muscle (a.k.a. pork) steaks I had marinated and thrown on the grill. Mmmm barbecued, marinated pig muscles with hubbard squash and beet greens! Truly mondiferous! And mondiferous isn’t even a real word! One can get frightened after eating beets. I remember a beet laden meal from days of yore. The following day, while sitting in the bathroom, I arose and (may or may not have) shouted, “OH GOD!!! I’M BLEEDING!!!”

Nope. It was just the beets!

We have a waste not, want not policy here. If we have leftovers, they sit in the fridge for a day or two, sometimes a bit longer but usually less than 8 months. If we decide not to snarf them it’s time to toss them into the freezer. By the way, the only proper way to store leftovers in the freezer is to put them in a container and throw them with great force from a distance of at least 15 feet. Please do not judge us when you come to visit if you see splatter marks here and there from less than successful leftover tossings. Oh, and it’s always best to make sure the freezer compartment door is open before you toss. So umm… yeah, don’t judge from the numerous dents in the freezer compartment door on top of the fridge. The leftover tossing “accidents” give us greatly humorous laughing chuckles with the eyes squinting while we shudder with ha ha convulsions that confuse visitors and also birds who spy us from the outdoor feeder.

Most recently, we placed both some homemade stir fry and some leftover Chinese food in the same freezer container. Well OK, the homemade stir fry went in first, but there was enough room for the left over “Tofu With Vegetable” entree from our local Oriental Gardens cookery. Both sat in the freezer for about 17 weeks (or perhaps only 9 days) and I scratched my head with a rake (or perhaps my fingers) in an effort to decide what to do with this combo. Then I saw what was left of the beet greens. About a cup or so of greens, and maybe two cups of purple water from cooking. I said to myself, “Let’s have some purple soup!!” I removed the container with leftover stir fry / tofu stuff from the freezer, got on top of a chair, and PLOPPED the contents into the pot with the beet greens. Purple juice flew everywhere, ha ha, very humorous chuckling with eyes squinting and convulsive shuddering. The birds were not amused. OK, perhaps we don’t really throw food around like that.

But I tell you what, the purple soup was holy mackerel wow oh my word yum yum delicious!

Here are some interesting cooking methods you might find entertaining.

Please Pass The Roots And Leaves… And Other Random Thoughts

Ohhh retirement!!  Such a joy!!  My stress level is much lower these days, although for some strange reason my calendar seems to fill up all too fast.  Thought I’d be able to kick back and do whatever I want but no….  And it’s very OK.  Certainly better than the before times while I was working.  One fond memory:  there I was, at work, in the industrial manufacturing stress pile that seemed to grow smellier with each passing hour, no plane, no parachute, and thinking about writing a run-on sentence, with no semi-colons but only commas, and probably grammatically incorrect; but that doesn’t bother me one little bit; oh wait, there are a couple of semi-colons back there.

One day at work, I was heating up my lunch in the nuking machine. My friend Jenise saw the vegetation in my Pyrex bowl and said, “what are you cooking today? Smells really good. ” I smiled and said, “yes, and today I have leaves, roots, and the flesh of a dead chicken.” I explained that I intended to consume asparagus, onions, Swiss chard, and some dead rotisserie chicken meat from Meijer, little sploosh of soy sauce, little floof of thyme. Mmmm-mmm yummy. After I finished the list of goodies, she said, “Oh, I would never eat that.”

At this point she ran screaming through the top floor window while her ’65 Mustang was in flames and all the propane tanks that were strapped to my safety shoes burst into an explosive conflagration causing the air to become very brightly orange but then black with smoke as the rest of the cars in the parking lot exploded one by one and the military came in full force to let the cat into the shower so she could drink off the floor while the Happy Friday Ken Guy wrote yet another run-on sentence with nary a comma or semi-colon to be found within the whole darned thing.

Our Beautiful Kitty, Nevvie (God rest her soul)… she loved to drink off the shower floor! We believe she was addicted to shower water. She lived to be 21 ½ years young and would broop and mee-roouu until one of us turned the shower on for just a bit. Then of course we had to let her know we were OK with her going in there to drink. It was a ritual you see. Shortly after she got her drink, the earth’s crust split open and large steel structures vaulted toward the sky while people were screaming and running for cover and toasters were flying sideways through the violent winds that were generated (of course) by the huge bats that arose from the bowels of the planet and OH MY GOD HERE COMES ANOTHER ONE get down and hide behind this big rock OH NO THE TREE MONSTERS ARE STEALING ALL THE ROCKS those dirty selfish stinkers they wish to protect themselves and who gives a flying mahookey about us, right, we should be grateful the trees are safe and there’s yet another run-on sentence with questionable (at best) grammatical structure.

OK. So, what have we learned from this week’s installment of “Goats On Parade?” Well boys and girls, we’ve learned that some guy who once worked at an explosion factory likes to eat leaves, roots, and dead rotisserie plastic button meat from Sneeb’s grocery in Moopah, Michigan. We could also possibly infer that the author of this week’s installment of “Radio Sandwich Dust Lanterns” is prone to writing run-on sentences. Also, a very likely possibility is that I, the author of this week’s “Happy Burger Filled Sock Drawer” very much enjoys nonsensical rants that have absolutely nothing to do with Stone Age Birthday Parties.

Therefore, I implore all of you: Please, if your job is stressful and ouchy, PLEASE remember that work is what you do for a living; but it does not necessarily have to define who you ARE. In my case, four egg sample, I was very grateful to have a job, but if I allowed the stress consume me I was no good to anyone at all (including myself). Hence, I would remind myself often of how blessed I am.  And I still do that regularly.  And I would find ways to help others smile at work.  I was often known as the person who sent instant messages and / or e-mails to his peers with the following content as an example:

My dustflute sings much better than our dog’s frozen trumpet.

At times, back in the good old days (ha!) I would receive audio from someone’s mouth parts as they asked, “Hey Ken, did you have a stressful week at work?” And of course I would reply, “Does a chicken have lips? Is a frog watertight??” The answer to both of these questions was, of course, 37.

When I got home, I relieved some stress by pulling a few weeds and (unintentionally) eating a few bugs.  It was truly constabulatory!!

Actually I still pull bugs and eat weeds.  But hey, I actually grow nice veggies for eating too!!  Gardening is my work now.  And it’s very good for my soles!

Retirement has given me a bit more time to observe wildlife.  I listen to the trees singing, and I love the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves of the birds.  The following video shows the exact methods our friends in the forest work hard during autumn to prepare for winter.  Please enlighten your friends after learning these amazing rituals.

An Open Letter To All Humans

Dear Tinker Toy Handlers,

This is to inform you that our house is exploding and the bottle rockets have prevented me from listening to the stereo for 13 weeks. I know that you are the ones who forced me into this situation, and I demand immediate constipation. If you do not comply with this request, I shall be coagulated instantly while I sail off to Bermuda with a large tube of toothpaste. No one has the right to tell ME what to wear to the Chicken Festival! So please, before our relationship has been too greatly damaged, change that stinky underwear you have on! You should know by now that the brown and yellow crusties are a clue that wash day is past!

And another thing: every time I sit down, my butt makes contact with another thing! I wonder: how many times has my butt touched another thing without my asking the thing if it wanted to be touched? I’ve also learned that my butt and my brain appear to be  connected. I know this to be true because a) I’ve made some really embarrassing mistakes during my stay on this planet we call Rhubarb, and 19) every time I forget something, I sit down and instantaneous remembering occurs within 7 or 8 millirockens.

Now don’t correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure you cannot be allowed to stay in the country after those things you did with that flyswatter in the restaurant. I mean, people who try to eat soup with a used flyswatter are probably not going to be invited to my burping contest anytime soon. Unruly behavior will be rewarded with gentle slappings about the eyes and shoulders with the standard issue licorice flavored water balloons.

Please remember that the child within you needs to be nurtured,

and only YOU (and your Maker) can do it.

If you ever feel sad or lonely, you can take action on this by paying me some big bucks. I will gladly use the money for disturbance mechanisms which will not allow you to get proper rest. A few weeks of this and you will forget all about that whiny inner child; and you will sport a pleasant, robotic appearance. Another tried and true method of healing the inner self is to shame the heels that find you. In other words, whenever some schmuck tries to mess you up, grin politely and suggest that they eat bark and poop at the moon. They will usually be glad you were honest, and will mumble unintelligible affirmations as they briskly walk away.

Well, as you can see, there is no reason to panic. Nothing is all right here, and the world is coming to an end. Please understand that I have found some very effective ways to deal with the stress that Armageddon brings. Firstly, give yourself the treat of some good all around attention: walk through the mall without clothing on, and smile to all you meet. Second: stop in the restaurant and briskly apply jelly to your ears. Your eyes will get squinty, and you will laugh loudly at the lack of pockets for hankies to wipe it off. Next will come the overpowering urge to charge people extra for car repairs.

Nevermind. That may have been a dumb idea. Just try something else, ok?

If you question my sanity or the validity of any of the aforementioned delinquent parboiled Parthenons, I say to you, “tough beans, Mr. or Ms. Smartenheimer!!” Sheesh!! Being absolutely correct is one of my hobbies, and unless I am mistaken, I have never been totally accurate on any doggoned thing in my whole life!! Fortunately for me, however, I know now that the more I learn the less I know. I learned that… I think. Ya know??

So in silence, I grant you three wishes, none of which will ever come true so forget about it. Don’t push me into something I don’t understand. I have low self-esteem and you know it. I have been taking classes for this, and they told me the best way to talk to people about your problems is to lie about the weather and run away laughing.

Be friendly to all you meet, as you may wish to borrow their used cereal someday. Have a conversation with a foreign car. Sing loudly with a mouthful of spaghetti; you’ll quickly learn who your real friends are. Feed your fish some dust and see how they like it. Try drinking from the toilet, cats do it all the time. Carry fried food in your pocket and offer it to strangers. Lick a telephone pole for fun.

Above all else, please remember: GOD MAKES NO JUNK, SO LOVE THYSELF!! OK?

Thank you for being, it gives me great comfort to know that you are.

Also, thanks in advance for not eating the crayons.

Peace, Love, and AM Radio,

Forvis “Green Tongue” Marbleswapper

a.k.a. “Runs With A Flashlight”

Well, OK, that was weird.  But hey, anyone remember Gumby?  Gumby was also pretty weird!!

How To Cure A Sinus Infection

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 beautiful woman I live with shocked me after several days of this ordeal when she said, “Honey, your cold is lingering way too long. I think you have a sinus infection.” I’m not sure how she felt qualified to say such things. Just because she’s been a nurse for over 30 years and does in home care for people and knows a lot of stuff about healthcare doesn’t give her the right to make wild accusations about some lousy cold her husband might have.

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)

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 Beautiful Nurse Lady I mentioned earler? The one I’m married to? Well guess what she did?? She said, “Honey, you need to go to the doctor.” Now, we’ve been married for awhile and I’ve learned (too often the hard way) that all goes much better if I follow orders.

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

Another Silly Letter

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, and 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, 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:

Amazing Food-o-synthesis(?)

OK, so there I was, outside planting my garden, enjoying the tingly sensation of mosquitoes sucking my blood and gnats chewing off the top layers of my flesh, and most everything that needed to be planted is growing nicely, but HOLY COW July is half gone awreddy and I shoulda got some peas in the ground and maybe some turnips but then I looked in the planting chart in the Old Farmer’s Almanac and it’s OK, it’s OK, it’s gonna be OK; unless of course I continue with this run-on sentence and then it’s maybe not gonna be so OK.

OK?

OK.

So yes, it’s gratifying to have most of my stuff in the ground. Now, those who know me understand that my mind is often wandering into strange territories. So today my mind was fizzing with ideas and I poofed out some “scientific” revelations that, if successful, will revolutionize gardening forever more. The “science” goes thusly:

A- Although I’ve transplanted tomato, pepper, and eggplant seedlings, much of what I plant are seeds (or in the case of potatoes, tubers).

9 – The seeds I plant are often the part of the plant that actually gets eaten during harvest. This goes for potatoes, too, in that although a “seed potato” is planted, one could actually eat it. However, you wouldn’t get any harvest if you ate all the seeds (ha, ha ha).

R) You can plant carrot tops and they will spout leaves and start growing again.  You can also replant celery, but of course you would plant the bottoms.

Therefore and to wit, my scientific infusion shall be proclaimed thusly: one should be able to plant other parts of other things we eat and grow more of them.

Try to keep an open mind here.  If we can regrow foods like celery and carrots, why couldn’t we expand that practice to just about any other food?  So my theory, which of course has to be true because it’s posted here on the interwebs, is that if we plant other food items we should be able to increase our original amount of food things via food-o-synthesis.

One example which seems like a good place to start is Meijer rotisserie chicken. Boy howdy I like that stuff. I’ll start by planting a couple this weekend some time. As with potatoes, the whole chicken would need to be in the ground. I can hardly wait to see what sprouts from this. Other ventures may involve a stick or two of butter, perhaps a block of cheese, and maybe a couple fresh fish.

I’ve also theorized that perhaps non-food objects like a could be planted. For these I’d use the “cuttings” method that is so often a popular way to grow various plants. Some things I’d like to try are: spark plugs (to grow a new engine for my rototiller), radio knobs (should grow a stereo I’m hoping) or perhaps a piece of glass or two for a new type of “cultivated windows.” The possibilities are only limited by the imagination, in my professional opinion. I mentioned these to my friends and was greeted with wide eyed smiles and joyful giggling. I can just tell they are excited for me!!

This weekend, I’ll be planting eggs, bananas, and a vanilla milkshake alongside a few metric socket wrenches and a couple rechargeable flashlights. I’ll let you know at a later date what my success rate is. In the meantime, I hope I don’t have the type of garden problems Mickey Mouse had.

Moist Ditches And Windshield Wipers

When the news of the world becomes as stressful as a large bowl of salmon scales, I often begin to reminisce about the good old days when lutefisk was worn casually in the shape of a man’s oversized basketball hamper while small, decorative houseflies jump though hoops of blazing oatmeal during halftime at the “Sniff Your Dog’s Crayons” Festival; which is held every 10th Sunday of Jangulary in the beautifully snail infested vegetable drawer of Nyvack, New Applesander.

This of course has nothing to do with messages like:

“I believe I’ll resume sleeping in moist ditches again soon.” Or

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow your windshield wipers for a couple months.”

And of course:

“Now that I’ve reached Mt. Agnes, my next journey will involve training my hair to light up during times of Zombie Invasions.”

All of these communications will be delivered to your screens long before you are able to discern the value of large piles of rusted pine trees. Please don’t attempt to erase this long standing lard hopper entertainment removal procedure. You’ll only end up with way too many roasted pick whistle shavings.

Speaking of whistle spray, I’m hereby reminded of a true (and probably completely false) recounting of our dear Grand Leaf Handler:

Long ago in Grandfather’s beard, a small squid died and stunk for days. All the village Elders offered him fire to drink and hid his remote control. Little children crawled up to see him and chewed off his toes. His own family sent for the Magic Bowl. They filled it with bird runch and mixed in pork, crayon shavings and geek fat. The ceremony began with the first three episodes of “Gilligan’s Island”; and when Grandfather started lusting for Mrs. Howell they fed him the Modongo. Very soon Grandfather blortled and fipped. He asked “What kind of bird runch are you feeding me today? Anyhow?” His family laughed at the snackwonder: “OH! AH! HOO!”, they bribbled. And that is how this Hay-Wy-Ann Island got its name.

I think…

Therefore my friends, dwell not on the nonsensical. Please do not try to extract any logical explanation for silly text that has no rhythm or sense of smelt. Additionally, remember that silliness is not at all similar to boiling marbles in chocolate powder. Lord knows only bicycles can endure that type of topical storm.

Thank you, and may all your blessings fly paper airplanes during important salamander conferences.

Yours In Deep Sleep,

Melbert “Whippy” Goatfinder

And now for the REAL taste test that was delivered many years ago in a dream I’d like to remember while grocery shopping.  Beware:  lots of slapstick in this one.

A Grateful Heart Has No Tonsilitis

Quote

Dear Ninks and Semmerflubens,

I am writing to all of you from the back yard where no children are stuffing bread into the worm holes. This week has been especially stressful in This Universe, what with televised evidence of the attempted democracy destruction and war and inflation and stuff like that there. Therefore, in the interest of clam flavored desserts, I feel the need to remove my corporate tortellini. Those of you who know me are aware that some stressfully sprinkled donuts prompt me to write letters to fire hydrants.

Let this past century of my 13 day week be no Oldsmobile to that incubation.

Four egg sample: I decided to purchase gasoline today. Thought $4.96 was a bargain!! I never thought I would think that the thought of thinking that gas less than $5 a gallon was a thought to be thought of. But I was grateful (?) to get the “bargain.” After I put over $70 into my Toyota Sienna Racing Van (which, by the way, gets about 30 mpg if I go just a smidge less than 65 mph), my Lovely Wife Person made a rather sacrilegious exclamation. As I opened the door to get back in,  I turned my back toward my Beautiful Girlfriend and asked, “Honey, is my hiney bleeding??” We left the gas station with a Holy Mackerel Price Rash, but soon found ourselves saying, “We must remain grateful that we are still able to pay our bills, and put gas on our table and put food in our car!!” After all, we are indeed very fortunate people who no longer require adult supervision at most Twinkie eating contests!! So yes, we are not happy that the oil companies are robbing us, but the bottom line is that we needed to get with the gratitude awreddy to prevent our heads from exploding.

My Self agreed that grouch makes ouch. I decided I really ought not allow this universe to remove my ventricles or extinguish my lapis lazuli.

Thankfully, I’ve acquired some tools during this Journey Called Life that give me the ability to cope with the smell of rotten eggs and other people who seem bent on ruining our everything. I smile and decide not to be El Groucho inside my brain world. At least not for 27 minutes, then I could reevaluate and perhaps even continue another 14 milliseconds. By golly, that may have actually worked. I try hard to not take the horrible events of the world too poisonously. Then perhaps I may also sprinkle some nonsense into the Happy Friday Writing Thing to make myself chortle and breep and hopefully help others to chuckle Chiclets while changing their socks. Of course I could take the alternate route and vehemently complain until my forehead has become inflamed with large pickles that fly violently in all directions. This of course would serve no other purpose than to unsuccessfully clone my onion rings before Hubert The Closet Painter arrives from Denderflaven. If he gets here before the sauerkraut capsules are fully declawed, there is absolutely no guarantee of the existence of any newly sharpened Jell-O forks.

And we all know what that means!!

So, I’ve decided to just be happy until I feel grouchy again, and thankfully The Grouchies are much fewer and farther between than previous infections. I’ve learned that I can start my day over again with a new happy and grateful attitude. Then if I get grouchy once more it will hopefully be a little less, and I keep practicing the gratitude thing. Then if people continue to get on my nerves, I’ll merely sing a pleasant song to them when their ears are not looking. Something cheerful like…

Leave me alone or I’ll bite you

Your ears are made of sticks

Why do you talk to ME like that

I’ll send you cat logs in the mail.

This of course is sung to the tune of “Leave Me Alone Or I’ll Bite You.”

Finally, and least palatable, is what seems to be an attitude of “Hooray for Me and to Hell with YOU” in our nation of freely expressive greedy stinkbottoms. I mean hey, I’m very grateful we live in a free country and hey, you know, when it comes right down to it, most of us are spoiled Americans compared to many folks on this planet. You know, hey? It’s just um… what troubles me, is um… you know, like um… wait a minute, let me hold my smellphone and text someone while you’re trying to talk to me and um… you know, this “America First” stuff seems to be causing a lot of resentment in the world and last time I checked, if a person is silly enough to proclaim himself King Of The Mountain then someone is gonna want to knock them down off the top of that mountain with a giant Tootsie Roll or something much more explosive.

Greed is harming all of us; and it ain’t no good for Mother Nature neither. We humans don’t own this planet, although we seem to act like the whole thing is ours. These things make me become very figgly and bickety-boo! So then I start getting more with the Grouch Ouch, and I want to go bite a bark flavored tricycle!!

Then I laugh at my silliness and life is once again refreshing and full of new opportunities to enjoy fruit and perhaps even the occasional flying insect.

Sometimes I restart my day 479 times or more.

So, how was YOUR week?

I think this cartoon was made when gas was just a wee bit cheaper than today…

Random Silliness

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 hypens-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 dustmop 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 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, this Sunday is Mothers Day. To all of you Moms out there, Thank You and God Bless You.