One More “Christmas:” A Final Ha-Ha-Holiday Letter For YOU

Dear Burgerbakers,

It seems like there was a ferocious calcification during much of December, and then there were holidays. They are looming large on the horizon now, but I certainly hope all of you will enjoy the holidays as much as we will. I’ll spend many hours licking the Christmas tree. Often our family will reinvent clothing while sleeping in the snowy ditch that does not even come close to our driveway. Our sump pump drains in there. Every time I would begin to dream of krumkaka, water would bloosh its way into my hair and nostril regions. Needless to say, I have developed a twervous nitch what haves defected my typinggn.

A flock of camels came to our garage and we asked them politely. To stop eating my tools, someone had to go up on the roof and yell with a ferocious growl. No, I didn’t. Mess up that sentence! Mess it up I tell you!! Do you think that just because Santa brought you the brand new macaroni flusher that you have the indecent formula for pie with no armpits? Well I’m here to tell you, that type of attitude will get you into concerts for free.

Actually, the Maine reason I am writing to you is because all of you are who you are, and I am not who you are. This is very good for me, as I am already plenty confused without trying to learn to navigate in all of your houses. Especially when the lights are off and the dog is eating the cat food and hey you please get out of the litter box oh gack you’re eating those stupid cat Tootsie Rolls again.

Oh wait.

That’s what used to happen at my house!!

Oh those were the days when Musky Da Husky’s appetite was not quite satisfied. He’d come out of the utility room, licking his chops. Then I look into his beautiful brown eyes and he looks back as if to say, “What??” At this time I’m pretty sure he’s been having hors d’ouvres from the kitty box. Then, he’ll turn around very nonchalantly and go right back in there, at which time I say very vigorously, “Git outta the poopie box you stupid dog!! NO!!! NO KISSING ME!!! arrrrgggghhhh  Get away with the kaka breath awreddy!! Oh, and ummm… you have litter particles on your nose. Ha ha, I laugh to you!!”  He eventually quit enjoying cat logs; and we miss him terribly.

OK. For real now, I really am truly writing to all of you out there because each and everyone of you are special, and that’s very special to me. So I’m especially writing to wish you all A Happy Merry And Joyful Wonderful; and please don’t leave my mud custard in the basket of fried onion seeds.

I’m very much allowed to write all this because we have get to have more than one “Christmas” to celebrate with twinkling earlobes this year.  After all the sell abrasives, we can use the chainsaw to fizzle the brand new naturally flavored artificial Christmas tree with Liberty and Justice for All.

But none of this is your fault. If it was, I would feel no need to reprimand you for that silly incident with the very loud flatulence last Tuesday in the grocery store.

So as you can see, I’m in real need of pickled herring resistance. Please send lots of money and an oversized piece of rare cheese to:

Amblenern Frammizackton
45U7 Odor Oh No
Gibbik, Larbonia 29&z1

Thanks, and may all your tweezers function properly.

Gibble Dee Boo,

Ken Arbelgarben
a.k.a. Mr. Toast-On-A-Stick

P.S.:  Peace, Love, and Hugs to You ALL!!

And now for one of our very favorite cartoons for this time of year.

My 2021 Holiday Requirements

Holy Moly, it’s that time of year again awready!! Time to light the mistletoe, hang the eggnog, and trim the Holiday Picker Bushes with multicolored shredded aluminum foil and LED soapsuds lights. Yes, I can already hear the neighbors’ chickens cackling with delight as they forage in my wife’s flower gardens.

If you have read this silly blog over time, you’ll also know that all the upcoming festivities are all true signs that The Season Of Giving Ken Wonderful Presents is upon us. Yes folks, it’s that time again; when I list a set of “suggestions” for gifts that I had better receive. Please keep in mind that, as always, I’m very aware that you need to take care of your family and closest friends first. However, I must also stress the importance of me receiving each and every thing I ask for from Santa; because hey, I’m sure you don’t want to watch me crying in the corner while I drown my sorrows with multiple jars of pickled herring while our cat Fred rolls around in the catnip I tossed all over the floor during my extreme anquish and OH MY GOSH WHEN MY WIFE SEES THE MESS SHE WILL BE ANNOYED and well, you know, I think the consequences of me not getting everything I demand will be very much like forcing people to read a run-on sentence out loud without taking a breath or even getting a potty break but I would never force anyone to do anything; but perhaps you could just nod your head and pat my shoulder and say something accommodating like, “we’ll see what we can do, you spoiled little punk.”

So without further ado I hereby present to you my List of Holiday Requirements for 2021.

1. I am in dire need of a R.C.C.B.O.R. I think you can still get kits for those at Radio Shack. Just ask Melvin about whether she got any Remote Control Clutter Bomb Organizing Robot kits. I believe they sell for the rock bottom price of $14.38 and are on sale until Saturday, December 34. You may wonder what purpose such a robot serves. Well you see, someone detonated a clutter bomb in my garage; and since the mess is overwhelming I am convinced that only a remote control mechanical lobster (or perhaps octopus) robot can work on it. Please make acquiring this your top priority.

R. I could really use a replacement Kandy Klobarn KOVID Prevention Kit. Of course, my wife and I follow the science and have been vaccinated and even boosted. We mask up in public and sanitize or wash our hands regularly. But that extra protection in the Kandy Klobarn KOVID Prevention Kit just gives me extra peace of mind. Good old Kandy Klobarn… he really knows how to uplift a person’s spirits in these stressful times. I follow the directions closely, but I’m running out of eyebrow mustard and vinegar scented ear candles. My wife is not really in favor of me running around with crusty yellow eyebrows, and she makes sure she is upwind when I light the ear candles; but she keeps reassuring me by patting my shoulder and saying “it’s OK babe, I still love you.”

2X. Who stole my anchovy and banana sandwich??? Darn it!! I had it here on the counter and now it’s gone!! I was looking forward to munching on it with a nice tall glass of lizard milk while watching that new series “Compost Wars” on Nutflex. Oh wait… oh jeez… yep!! I stashed it in my sock drawer again. Hey, I don’t want anyone stealing my snacks!!

&!. You may not believe this, but you know that Universal Translator you never bought me last year? Well guess what: it fell in the toilet again. The first time this happened it was no big deal, it just sounded a little gargly. But now when I ask it to translate the Crognovian greeting, “may your knees never clunk the spikes of my snow tires,” the Universal Toilet Translator is almost unintelligible while saying with a raspy, gurgling voice, “maybe your trees river dunk Ike’s no wires.” As you can imagine, this would be very embarrassing in a social gathering. Please make this one your top priority. What?? I said that for item 1 ?? Umm… oh.

6K. Oh, please, don’t forget this one: I need some new toothbrush varnish. I’m almost out you see, and I don’t want my toothbrush to lose its luster and shine when guests first come in the door and wipe their feet off on it. I mean, how can I keep dirt particles out of my mouth after that?? I’ll tell you how: toothbrush varnish. That’s how.

Well folks, that should suffice for this year. If you have any trouble meeting these demands, please keep in mind that all I ever REALLY want is two simple things: Love and Peace. In my professional opinion, all of us have a responsibility to make those happen. We can start by being loving and kind to those we know; and we can spread it further by being kind to everyone we meet. And of course we mustn’t forget those who are in need. Even small donations can go a long way if we all chip in just a little.

I know it’s a little early, but I’d like to wish all of you a Very Happy Merry and a Truly Joyful Wonderful. Peace, Love and Hugs to You All.

“And now,” as Mr. Cleese said during many a Monty Python show, “for something completely different.” Although it’s not really that different… just “different.”

Dust Flingers Don’t Dunk Donuts (Or Do They??)

Hello Dust Flingers,

As none of you are able to hear, this Sunday marks yet another period of a time change in this part of our universe.  Because of this radical shift in sunrise and sunset times, all humans will wonder what day it really is and will probably try to spit small chunks of Tootsie Rolls out of their car windows while driving backwards into the firewood pile.

Therefore, I have appointed myself to inform none of you that all new banana recipes should be turned in to the Front Sniffing Room before 12:47 p.m. on Tuesday, August 72, 19127.  Those of you who think you can merely squawk and sneeze loudly instead of dunking donuts down deeply into dense but delicious Dingly Drinks will be sent to live with the Carnivorous Cranberry Credit Card Cultivators.

That oughta show ’em who’s crinkly!!

None of you may remember the hatchling song; the words of which were “stolen” by Gus Parbnackle during the second Coat Hanger Revolt of 1924.  This enjoyable malady has been renewed during the last 28 microseconds and is now sung to the tune of “Inna Gadda Da Vida”:

Guess who barfed on my shoes today??
Do dah, do dah!!
Hatchlings shouldn’t act this way!
Oh do dah day…

If you find it necessary to rekindle the spirit which is found to be both blue and wormy; please run directly to your neighbors and ask them to return the crescent wrench your uncle borrowed shortly before dinner last Wednesday morning at precisely 4 PM.  It may be wrinkly from soaking in the Cream of Marshmallow Soup for 13 days, but that should not deter you from accepting the responsibility of teaching slimy, hairy chickens how to yodel during Disney movies.

Come now, don’t you remember the terrible consequences from the last time you tried to clean your ventricles by drinking 134 millimeters of petrified braunschweiger??  You see, it doesn’t matter that you slathered it onto caraway seeded rye with just a little mayo and some yellow mustard and HOLY MOLY I’m suddenly getting a craving for some freshly smoked shrimp on the half shell!!  Why would you taunt me in such a manner??  Don’t you have any respect for Lando The Lizard’s self esteem??  I doubt he’ll ever visit here again at snack time!!

I hope you’re happy!!

In summary, I must remind you not to rub sandpaper inside your mucous membranes. Fortunately, that practice has been abandoned long ago due to the over abundance of spaghetti in water fountains made by Mattel.

Therefore I beseech unto you:  Please remember that:

A) you can pick radishes before they are ripe and they will still be red,

9) Being flatulent is not necessarily helpful during a job interview.

@!)  When Santa sees those dog toenails you’ve been collecting; he’ll likely ask where you got those fancy display cases.

Thank you for being who you are. After all, if you weren’t you, you wouldn’t be. That would be very confusing to you now wouldn’t it??

My toes look like morel mushrooms again!!

Happy Bozo Express,

Zibnick G. Amplegrane
a.k.a. “Monty the Moth Rancher”

Now, as Rocket J. Squirrel used to say, “now here’s something we hope you’ll really like!!”

Zagnut Explosions

There are times when I want to roll on the floor with my tongue flapping in the breeze, all the while flailing my arms and legs about as if I my pants were on fire; but if you heard me say this you would probably know that I may be fooling and then you could chant “liar liar pants on fire nose as long as a telephone wire” with that silly singing voice you have and then of course I’d confess that you’re correct and my pants might actually catch fire because I was fooling the whole time.

Breathe… breathe…

OK, it’s like this, awright?? Very soon I will have to pay for car insurance. I would really rather buy candy or maybe a doughnut or something. Do you think you can use doughnuts to pay for car insurance? Or can candy be converted into fuel for small jet packs that do little more than disrupt public speakers and / or eggplant processing machines?

I’d really like to know where my flashlight is.

How may more insurance price increases do I really need to endure, I ask you? Don’t they know that I’d rather have them just hand me the money and say “thank you for being” and just let me be?? NOOoooo… they actually expect me to pay them because they are supposedly protecting me but if I don’t sign up for “unlimited” medical coverage (which I’m sure they will want to limit somewhere down the road) then they can watch Godzilla and King Kong fight over my car with me inside and my legs will soon have nasty monster bites which will cost lots of money at the medical place and, please excuse my use of rough language, but at times I’m really tired of people dying from COVID because they don’t want to do what science says is the right thing;  and I have absolutely no idea why I’m using both bold and italics for no apparent reason!! And there we go with yet another run-on sentence, and enough with the superfluous exclamation points awreddy!!!!!!!

Breathe… breathe…

Yes, yes, I know full well that there’s no free lunch, you don’t get something for nothing, a penny saved is a penny earned, a stitch in time saves nine, and you can’t milk a goat with a Crescent wrench. After all, nobody would be rushing to the farmers market to buy wrench cheese stitched with nine pennies for lunch or nothing. No, these are difficult times, so every free something is either saved or earned, and in time I’m pretty sure we’ll find out that goes for all nine of them. Harvey Ticknoodle would be rather annoyed at all this falderal and its associated fiddle dee dee; therefore I implore you not to implode while trying to get those last molecules of milkshake out of the spark plug sockets.

Please, please quit reaching for my Zagnut. You know how doggoned good those are with coffee, right??   MMmmmmm coffee… cream and sugar please… no… honey. No I didn’t call you Honey. Well OK you’re pretty nice but I’m not that kind of Zagnutarian. I just like honey in my coffee instead of sugar. OK Honey?? And if you don’t believe me, just try a Zagnut with your honeyed coffee and cream surprise leverage beverage.

While eating the coffee and drinking the Zagnut, nothing in this world will bother you for the entire 12 microseconds it takes for a hummingbird to sing “Oh What A Beautiful Flower Drink” during the last 12 innings of the World Series. That completely unfamiliar Zagnut aroma flavor will cause a sensory explosion the likes of which you’ll never scream to the Sheriff’s Office. You’ll feel refreshed, and of course you’ll be thoroughly Zagged. Only a Nut would deny this delicious cloud softening cable the chance to tinkle on the tastebud tours of Flampington, Indiana.

Well OK, now that I’ve vented a bit I feel quite a lot better. Thank goodness. Thought I was gonna have to get silly there for a minute.

English The Mangle I Enjoy

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 of the English using practice (or maybe malpractice). 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 Autumn Rainfall Falderal (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 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 stuff face!!)

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 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”

No News Can Be Good News

I’ve always been a bit of a news junkie. Been that way ever since I can remember really… I even remember when Berlin Wall was being built. I was the ripe old age of 6 at the time. Unfortunately, most of the news we see in the media is not very pleasant these days. Maybe it never was. Regardless, I think I’ve been paying a little too much attention and it’s starting to hurt me. There really is lots of very good news in this world, but sadly not nearly enough of it is reported in the mainstream media.

Therefore I’ve decided not to focus so much on what needs to be changed in the world, but rather try to focus on what needs to be changed in me. Specifically, I may (or may not) try to distract myself by squirting copious amounts spicy brown mustard into my nostrils every time I get the urge to watch the news. There’s actually a clinical name for this method; which I just made up. Yes my friends, I’ve named it “No News Mustard Nose.” This is not to be confused with The Beatles’ song “Mean Mr. Mustard,” although I really do enjoy that tune. However, when my nostrils are full of mustard I simply do not feel very musical.

In order to further my journey into serenity and good mental health; I’m also doing my best not to indulge in negativity. Perhaps I could achieve this by loudly blowing bubbles in a glass of chocolate milk every time someone wants to utter sounds of prejudice, racism, or misogyny (to name a few). I could even try using a straw!! This could be enhanced by humming loudly into the straw; and thereby making some very musical bubbling action. If the negative yammering continues, I could take a quick break from the bubbling and loudly proclaim, “My Musical Milk Makes Me Most Merry!!” And of course I would resume with the brightly bubbly ballad; only much louder.

I’ve heard that some folks find happiness by purchasing things. Well I already have too much stuff; but perhaps I could go shopping for such luxury items as chocolate covered herring fillets; or maybe some nonexplosive macaroni and cheese for a change. I’ve always disliked macaroni explosions. Takes weeks to get the stuff out of the crooks and nannies of my kitchen. Of course I could instead try to find something useful like a solar powered paper clip dispenser; or there’s always that right handed / left handed (for those who are ambivalent) matching set of metric screwdrivers I’ve never wanted. Maybe I won’t go shopping at all, but rather treat myself and My Beautiful Girlfriend to an elegant dinner of Fish Head Surprise with Mama Baloopa’s Banana Gravy. Oh and let’s not forget the famous Cinnamon Raisin Eggplant Pie Ala Mode for dessert!! I hear it’s the latest thing in the suburbs of Sasquatch, New Yingleton.

My friends, I decided to make silly tonight due to the advent of a noteworthy anniversary of a truly horrible event. There will be lots of opinions given about why the attacks occurred on September 11, 2001. Lots of memorial ceremonies, but also, sadly, some hate speech will likely be strewn about during all the inevitable commentary. I will watch none of it. I will simply wing up prayers for those who lost loved ones, and I’ll continue to pray for all of us on this planet. We’re all in this together after all. Perhaps there will come a time when humanity can really make love and not war. Being the idealist that I am, I’ll continue to cling to the hope that we can learn from history rather than continuously repeat it.

Until then, if you’re at my house when the news comes on, just look the other way when the mustard starts to flow; and maybe plug your ears when I reach for the chocolate milk and my straw. Then stick around for the Fish Head Eggplant Pie Ala Mode!! It’s um… well it’s really pretty disgusting.

On the other hand, you have very silly diversions…

Delightfully Dreadful Dental Demolition

I have a severe complaint that is never to be rectified because what I’d like to complain about is this getting old stuff; which as many of you know is not for cowards but Holy Farlupa it sure would be nice if once in a while I could just coast for about 30 years and not have to worry about my body falling apart but it just doesn’t work that way and OK now it’s time for this run-on sentence to cease and desist this very instant.

NOW!!

So there I was, minding my own business, eating something delicious (I have no idea what it was but I’m sure it was good because I like to eat good things) and then OW!! My tooth hurts!! My molar on my lower left side. A root canal crown kind of tooth. Then I say to myself, “Oh poopy caca doodoo, what the HECKAMALOOKEY is this all about??” So I push it around and it feels better when I push downward. Then I notice a bulge in the gum near the tooth and I scratch it open with my fingernail (gross… I know) and that allows icky stuff to ooze out and then I rinse with Listerine and VOILA!! Feels much better.

For a while…

Then I say to myself, “Hey you with the face!! Try rinsing every day with the Listerine juice and kill what appears to be a tooth infection!!” So I did that for a few weeks, and it got better.

For a while…

Then I went to the dentist for a checkup and told them about this tooth and they told me the horrible news: “It needs to come out.” Upon hearing this I said, “Is there nothing that can be done??” “No, it’s abscessed, it needs to come out. But we can replace it with an implant.” “How much for that?” I asked. “$7500.” was the reply. My reply: “CRAP (well, I actually used a stronger word)!! No, don’t think I’m gonna do that…” This news made me rather sad, as the tooth’s neighbor (another molar) had been yanked many years ago, so that would leave a rather large open spot on the lower left side of my jaw. I mentioned to the dentist that I thought I’d made some progress with the infection and he said, “well sounds like you want to limp with it for a bit. If anything changes we’ll schedule an appointment for you with the oral sturgeon.” “OK,” I repled, followed with a large, silent “OH NO!! I have NO INTEREST in oral sturgeony!! FOOEY POOP SNAGFOP MASHTABORK ROOZLESNORKEN!!” OK I may have used other, more “colorful” words to express my sadness. Oh and for those who don’t know, an oral sturgeon is my way of describing a slimy fish doctor who sturgically sucks teeth out of people.

After a couple weeks of on and off success, I finally relented and got the oral sturgeony appointment. Now that I’m retired, I rather enjoy not listening to an alarm clock yelling at my brain to get my hiney out of bed. Yesterday, however, I had to wake up at 6:30 AM in order to make the 8:20 AM appointment. I enjoyed that very much. Got cleaned up, had some breakfast, got a little nauseous afterward. Anxiety I guess. Hopped in the car and arrived in the office about 15 minutes early. Then I enjoyed waiting for almost an hour to get my tooth removed. As the anxiety built up, Someone Upstairs must have been looking out for me because there was only me and one other guy across the room from me; and he decided I needed to hear his life story. Believe it or not, it actually calmed me down!

The moment of truth arrived and I sat in the chair waiting for the fun to begin. The oral sturgeon and his assistant were not slimy fish at all, and did their best to calm me down. First some novocaine shots (I love those!! NOT!!). Then they put this wheel chock thing in the right side of my jaw to keep it open. Time for more nausea!! “We can do this another time if you don’t feel well,” the oral sturgeon said. “Oh no,” I said, “just gimme a minute.” The rest of the procedure was actually very delightful. First the oral sturgeon jumped on my chest and started slamming my jaw with a pick axe. Then there was drilling… lots of drilling… I think he was looking for valuable minerals that “might” be embedded in my jawbone. Next was the jackhammer… Then came the rusty pliers and the melodious crunching and crackling of tooth fragments being yanked out of my face. Finally they stitched me up and told me not to eat crunchy or chewy stuff for 7 years, then crammed some gauze in my jaw to stop the blood from gushing all over the floor.

I suppose it’s possible I slightly exaggerated the actual extraction process… but hey, I just wanted to prepare any of you youngsters who still have all your chompers for what may be awaiting you as you age. I was worried that I’d be holding my jaw and writhing in pain for days; but it’s healing up quite nicely.

So, how was YOUR week??

Conversational Frivolities

This week, I’ve decided to just make funny with a couple conversational snippets from hither and yonder. If you don’t agree with that conflagration, please e-mail your nearest utility pole with “Tree Bark” in the subject, then print it and show it to the nearest tree to see how long it takes for the tree to make a barking noise. You may be amazed at how long it takes!!

So there I was, in Montague, Michigan, visiting some dear friends with my Beautiful Girlfriend Wife Person, when I emerged from our friends’ bathroom after noticing what appeared to be some kind of lighting device thing-a-ma-doodle. Being the polite guest that I am, I didn’t play with it or turn it on or anything. Rather, I asked my friend Dan,

“So what’s that device in your bathroom?”

“A toilet??” he replied, and we all laughed with big ha ha. Then being the smartypants I am, I apologized profusely for not knowing I was supposed to use this thing called “toilet.” Which of course I did. Use the toilet thing I mean. Turned out the device in question was a full spectrum lamp that helps our friend Mary get some artificial sunshine during the cold wintry days. After that ha ha session I boasted that I finally installed the replacement oak toilet seat at our house. Only took me 4 years to get around to it!!

Retirement has slapped us in the faces with big realities we never smelled before; and although we had nearly 6 inches of rain over the past few days, my squash vines still wilt in the hot sun and with all the wind we got the other night I’m not sure my popcorn will ever be straight again; but that has nothing to do with retirement realities but it seemed like a nice place to insert a run-on sentence for the enjoyment of all those tiny microscopic organisms that live in our intestines.

For example, retirement has given us pause to reflect, and sometimes the reflections are mere blurbs of briggly words that make us snicker and chuckle with great disregard for building materials or even gigantic stone monoliths.

My Beautiful Girlfriend started off the exchange thusly:

“How did we get into our 60s?? How did this happen??” she wondered.

“One day at a time I guess,” I answered, then added, “well… we were born…”

Before I could finish my thought she interjected, “and we popped out of the womb!!”

“Yep,” I continued, “and then we didn’t die!!”

Again we proceeded to laugh with our faces. But hey, that’s the reality of it all: if you want to live to a ripe old age, it’s very simple. Just don’t die!! Oh and try to stay healthy. Easy, right?? Yeah, sure… like a friend of ours likes to say, “getting old is not for cowards.” And no, it isn’t.

But it can still be fun… even if just with some occasional conversational frivolities.

These folks, in my professional opinion, were masters of such things.

Antergloanian Agriculture

Hello Friends,

I remember when I decided to retire I was really looking forward to spending more time in my garden. Well I have had plenty of time to do that, thankfully; and I’ve also learned a few things. Some of these things are simply amazing and wonderful, but some of them are completely antergloanian.

And antergloanian is not a word.

You see, I never expected the parsnips to crowd the eggplants and peppers to the point of near extinction. It’s been several years since I’ve planted parsnips, and for whatever reason, this year the parsnips appear to be eating Super Grow Holy Moly Plant Vitamins. They are growing so well, their leaves have prevented that oh – so necessary sunlight from hitting the peppers and eggplants. Consequently, the eggplant and pepper plants are pretty wimpy and probably won’t do much this year.

I mean, the foliage on these parsnips is simply huge!! I do have distant memories of trying to grow parsnips; but when I planted them, very few actually sprouted. Those that did were rather puny, and the roots were not very large. I seem to remember that they were tasty, but hey if you don’t get much it’s not as much fun. If the foliage on this year’s monsters is any indication, the roots should give us enough enjoyment for Rooftop Salamander Surprise; which is an ancient recipe handed down to me by my Viking ancestors that involves scaling a rope ladder with the guidance of an English speaking salamander (by the name of Loogersnotten) and attempting the deep frying of parsnip tentacles during a raging snowstorm that only occurs during a run-on sentence.

Or perhaps that was a dream (the recipe part I mean).

So there I was, minding my own business, walking near the popcorn and along the fence, admiring my cucumbers, and OH MY GOD MY LOVELY CUCUMBER VINE IS DYING!!! What the HECK-A-MA-HOOKEY is that all about?? Well it’s likely some burrowing animal happily digging its way around looking for grubs. Upon discovering this sad revelation, I knelt down, put my face close to the base of the dying vine, and shouted “YOUSE STINKING DIRT SNORTERS HAVE KILLED MY POOR CUCUMBER VINE!! I will NOT put you on my Holiday Gift List!!! SO THERE!!” Nah, I didn’t do that really. Hey, burrowing animals gotta eat too, right? Well, I may have muttered a few naughty words under my breath.

Thankfully I have two more vines, one of which was a volunteer that I transplanted out of the broccoli / Brussels sprouts / beets / Swiss chard bed. It seems to be doing OK; and has even started to produce. The other one just kinda popped up a few feet away from the dying vine. Probably a result of flinging an oversized cuke in the compost last year. Oh yeah… I get volunteer squash, melons, tomatoes, and even beans from stuff that somehow survived all the creepy crawlies that feed on veggie waste in our compost pile. Wherever I put the compost, there is often a “surprise” seedling or perhaps 19 of them. Some are welcome, most get executed (yanked out by the hair) and tossed back into the compost.

Hey, remember that one time I put a very small catnip plant in the garden? Boy, did I think that would be fun for our feline friends!! And yes!! It really is a lot of fun for the kitties. But guess what?? If you plant catnip in the garden, it spreads. And if you like how the flowers attract all those bees and butterflies and such, and then the flowers make seeds, well, then you get GIGANTIC PATHES OF CATNIP THAT REALLY LIKE MY SOIL. And why shouldn’t they? I’ve spent 39 years turning beach sand into very rich topsoil!!

Oh, and remember that one time I allowed a milkweed to flower in hopes that the Monarch butterflies would start to make babies at my house?? Well now there’s quite the milkweed patch in the southwest corner of the garden. Those things not only spread by those fluffy, featherlike seeds that float around in the air, they also are very good at spreading by roots. The pop up all over the place. Again, some of them are welcome; most get executed and sent to the compost pile. Lots of Monarchs (and many other pollinators) are starting to take notice though!!

So my friends, there’s never a dull moment in the garden. I’ve renamed it “The Garden Of Weeden” due to the large population of uninvited plants that are scattered about. That’s very OK though, because believe it or don’t the biodiversity that’s present when the weeds are visiting actually keeps veggie munching pests at bay. They provide a habitat for predators (like spiders), and their presence also confuses the “radar” of pest insects. Seriously. You see, growing veggies organically means no pesticides or other man made chemicals are allowed in or near the garden; Growing huge fields of one crop basically screams “come get me!!” to pest insects. So mixing it up is an effective way to minimize damage from those veggie munchers. As an added bonus: even when you yank them, there are lots of roots left behind that decompose and therefore build the soil.

Anyway, when I start the parsnip harvest later this year (fall and winter), I’ll make sure to invite all of you over to participate in the preparation for Rooftop Salamander Surprise.

Or maybe we’ll just have potroast.

And no, I DO NOT garden like Mickey Mouse!!

Ummm I’m Thinking

Maddie is here with our grandsons Ollie and Gabe, and as is customary I begged them all for silly input for this week’s Happy Friday!! Well, all of them are growing up way too fast, and it seems that they may be a bit more hesitant to contribute than they were when they were very young. I’ve learned that it’s much easier to have them talk into my phone while I have the microphone enabled than it is to try to transcribe every utterance. No, instead I beseech them to speech themselves into my phone and I e-mail the words to myself so I can copy and paste them here.

What follows is the result. Keep in mind that sometimes the iPhone “translates” speech as it sees fit, often with rather bizarre wordings.

I started off by asking, “OK… can you guys give me some silly stuff for my story tonight?”

“Ummm I’m thinking…” Gabe replied.

“Moo! Monkey!!” was Maddie’s knee jerk reaction. Then Ollie chimed in: “The elusive South American moose feeds on a diet of chicken nuggets and tater tots.”

Gabe added, “It also eats elephants and giraffes and lions.” Ollie got close to the phone and uttered some gibberish, which the phone took to mean “Rumor Scab on her head back and he told Jen bong famous stars will Bhupathi if the hour! Violets room or a scab on her head back and told Jen famous stars will see if the hour!” The phone is apparently upset about the hour…

Maddie then retorted, “A dragon dog went into the castle somehow even though it’s humongous and ate Gabe.” The phone also seemed to think it needed to insert some “colorful” words, over which I backspaced and told the phone “no we’re not gonna put that in the story.”

Gable replied, “No thank you why is everybody what do I say book movie game.” And Maddie responded with “Marblehead slope nerve connection or come out sooner give me so much. Oh Bubba Bubba Bubba boo-boo boo-boo!!” Ollie snapped back with “Lava Duper Duper yes Schnapp and Oceanaire. I will sing and a good day to you sir!!”

Suddenly, all of them started talking in rapid succession: “I am your biggest fan snoops you so I’m sure bicycle. You sir I eat hamburgers in seconds hi galaxy hi now before me. Meds for snag a bargaining and travel booth no sub Nube. El Bruegel France mentee Brock Fruge mend toes are now negative rude move out move that big buddy ham I like ham house ouch it’s food yay flip-flops guys flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop!!”

That concluded the phone dictation session, as I was unable to keep the focus on anything other than flip-flop; but we all laughed with big harroo and soon we all ran dentfully through the carpet grease while chickling all forms of animated toast wobbles. That of course brought our cat Flegmop to his knees, which is difficult since cats’ knees are basically elbows; and we ain’t talking macaroni neither!!

So my friends, if you ever want youngsters to dictate nonsense into a smart phone, please be aware that the transfer will often be very silly and cause hickles and froopening during zixerstorms. After reading the copy and paste banana sauce, I then of course revonkulated the snettidge even further with more norvalian cribbelletto.

I want some toast now. Please change both dandruff closets into small TV rooms.

Thank you,

Kenny Prigflorten

a.k.a. “Lenneth Loghopper”

Next will be a cartoon that none of you will ever try to infuriate.