Fore Pot Hominy

English is a subject many of us loved to hate while we were in school. Rightly so, I guess, because it’s awfully complex, what with all the rules and everything. But perhaps the toughest thing is when you try to explain English to someone who didn’t grow up speaking it.

One problem for our brethren and cistern of other lands is that English has too many words that sound the same but mean completely different things (homonyms). On the other hand, you have five fingers. You also have the words that don’t sound anything alike, but mean the same thing (synonyms). Consequently, even those who grew up with English as a first language can have a pretty horrible time at first.

Maybe I’m a sicko, but I actually enjoyed English as a kid. It just seemed to flow naturally for me. But so does fun, and early in life I often turned to scholars like the Marx Brothers and the Three Stooges; and came to rely heavily on silly humor as a coping mechanism. Professors Groucho and Curly, among others, taught me to mangle the use of my native tongue for comic relief.

Some of my favorite fun is the destruction of sentences using various perversions of synonyms and homonyms. Sew, without any further a dew, hear comes the thyme during witch aisle use words in a weigh that, hope fully, will give ewe awl a chuckle oar to. Oar knot! Eye don’t no four shore. Of coarse, eye may use sum “poetic lye sense” and get in two sum reel bad word mangling, just two make this moor fun. When eye get in two a mood of this type, I yam knot very predict a bull. Eye simply type watt comes two my mind. And at thymes, my mind can bee a berry strange plays in deed.

Take the title, four instance. Pleas, jest take it away from hear! It contains words that are not reel homonyms of “Four Part Harmony.” But hay, Eye simply dew knot care. Eye thought it sounded funny, sew that’s wye Eye poot it their. Nor dew Eye care that “poot” is knot in the diction aerie (although diction and aerie both are). Eye, four won, no perfectly well that “poot” is slang for the release of intestinal gas. Sew, Eye through that in four the halibut.

Won sad fact, though, is their are two many folks who right this way awl the thyme, and think it’s nor mull. If there skills are egg stream lee bad, we cat a gore eyes them as “funk shun Ellie ill litter it.” They dew knot no how two right a reel scent tense. There reeding skills are very pour. Knot awl of this is there fault, of coarse, butt it is the sad truth nun the less.

Oh Kay. Watt if wee found too people, driving threw town and talk king, and won was “funk shun Ellie ill litter it” and the udder new grandma pretty well, and was their four “litter it?” Wee mite here sum thing of this nay chore:

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“Hay, Clem! Let’s go two the Ma Jest Stick Thee Ate Err two knight. Eye here their will bee fore fell lows singing, each inn a different cord! With know instruments, neither!! Eye guess you call that type of singing, `archipelago,’ write??”

“No, Stewart, that’s definitely NOT `archipelago,’ it’s called `acapella.’ But hey, it sounds like a great idea. And by the way, when there are four singers like that, it’s called a `quartet,’ you realize. Probably barber shop.”

“Oh Kay, Mr. Music Smarty Pants Person! Butt hay now, you don’t have to insult me! Four wye you call me `reel eyes??’ Pretty stupid name calling their. Anyhow, I’m really lookin’ foreword two that fore pot hominy. And yes, I am fully a wear that `a bobber sharp quartet’ is a cinnamon four `fore pot hominy,’ Mr. Turnip Nose! There! How dew you like being called names?? Stop with the insults, already!”

“I think you mean synonym, although it isn’t really. And that’s four part harmony. Pretty sure you meant harmony. But hey, I don’t want to pick nits. And I didn’t call you `reel eyes,’ I said, `realize.’ Chill out, man!”

“Yore tellin’ ME to chill OUT?? I don’t have to take this! I mean, there you go again! Are you listenin’ two yourself hear? Eye SAID cinnamon! And eye also said hominy! And if there’s any pit nicking gonna be done, I’ll do it myself, thank you very much. I was nicking pits before you was born!! And there you go callin’ me names again! What the heck’s the deal with this `reel eyes’ business? Anyhow??”

“Oh brother. Sorry. We’re obviously not communicating. But hey, let’s check out the quartet. What time? Eight?”

“Ate?? Heck know, I’m starved! Haven’t had thyme four dinner yet! Pick me up around 7:45. And watch out fur that `DEW KNOT ENTER’ sign! Oar don’t you understand traffic cymbals?? You ego statistical creep-headed octopus!”

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Well, may bee such a talk wooden happen. Butt as yew kin sea, I like two play with hominy and cinnamon!

Here are two of my favorite artists who mastered the misuse of English:

An Open Letter To My Favorite Grandsons

Dear Abe and Gollie,

I would like for both of you to please remember to ask all the crayons not to scream so much while we’re eating our new favorite cereal: Kitty Kat Krunchies. Yes, I know they look just like the dry cat food that’s in Freddy the Freeloader’s bowl, but believe me, all the insects in the yard are cheering when our refrigerator tires go flat.

Do either of you remember when we never sang that “Hey Thanks For The Dried Compost” song?? Well I know I sure would. In fact wood has never been more colorful when sniffed during a Dried Fly Moon. All the fancy nose stockings will surely be reminded to cross the street quickly when the Purple Dust Mixing Bowls come zooming past the stinkberry patch.

Holy Cow!! I forgot to tell you: I’ve changed my elbows into toilet paper tubes!! I’ve waited all my life for my elbows to experience the same crackly shouting noise a greasy buffalo makes when it’s yelling at the traffic lights. Of course, Sir Wilbur Snackhammer of Floofington Castle will be making his famous Mac and Cheese Toothpick Snacks while the rest of us sit around burping loudly during pet food commercials. Oh yes, these are the days for celebrating!! Send around a bag of nails!! Chase a few tree shadows!! Jump backwards into a small pile of figs!! And don’t forget to recite that new Apple Smashing poem I’ve never heard about!!

Ching!! Ching!! Ching!! goes the huge rock when it’s dropped on a glass of water. The noise is delicious; and reminds me of the time my big toe was shooting gumballs out of each radio muscle. Sometimes people give me strange looks when I’m trying to lick my ears; but I just figure they are jealous because they can’t teach their own basketballs how to speak Italian. All the moss flavored candy in the world is not enough to make me want to yell “KABOOM!!” every time a freshly picked pizza cabbage comes rolling into the house. So please don’t try to tell ME how fast a battery can roll into a ketchup scanner!! What do you think this is?? Anyhow??

In closing, thank you for being who you are, and especially for not being me. As the old saying goes, “it’s always better to be you that for you to be me; and although you can count to it, eight is a word.” Therefore, my dear young men, go softly into Dirty Sock Forest and try very hard not to wake up the moochy moochy monsters. Yes I know they are harmless; but all this shouting of “moochy moochy!!” is especially delightful when I shave my new fruit basket. One time they even offered me some creamy rust powder to drink with my liquid donuts. I respectfully told them to take their wiggly eyebrows and their strange headlight sausages elsewhere.

Now I can’t find my pants.

Peace, Love, and Very Quiet Shouting,

Norzle P. Yendlebonk – “The Traveling Mustard Thief”

What Was Your Name Again??

Hi Folks!

There is only one TRUE way to impress your friends with warmth and love, and that is by sending the following letter to all of them on a special day that neither of you will remember. So, since this I am writing this “Happy Friday” to all of you, my dear, wonderful friends, please take a minute to be bathed in the loving thoughts in the letter that follows. AND, as an added bonus, you can easily cut and paste it into your very own, original, plagiarized letter and send it to YOUR friends! No box tops or proof of purchase required!

OK? Here we go…

An Open Letter To The Best Friends I Have Never Known

by Me

Dear Snifflehead,

Don’t think for even one minute that you can even for one moment even possibly have a chance to realize anything about the possible chances of knowing what I was thinking a moment ago. Give me a break already. You know what I mean, right? Of course you do, that’s why we’re friends!

It’s been nearly three days now, and that’s longer than what I had anticipated before the three days began. That was at least three days ago. Now it is three days hence, and it feels a lot like three days have gone by. It may seem redundant to you, but I don’t wish to repeat myself on the point of being guilty of saying the same thing over again. That would be redundant, as you may have detected, but I

refuse to be accused of saying the same thing over again.

Our friendship goes back as far as I can remember; but to be honest, I can’t remember who the heck you are or what you look like. All I know for certain is that you will soon be receiving small packages of soil in the mail. Consider it a token of appreciation for all the things you have never done for me. The soil you will soon enjoy will contain very small mites which will observe you while you go to the

bathroom (they’ve been known to take notes). Please be aware that if you hear faint, high-pitched laughter in there while you are bathing, that is just those silly mites. They carry small video recorders; so don’t be surprised if your hiney is featured on “America’s Funniest Videos” in the years to come.

Let’s make a point of having bark salad sometime at separate restaurants together. Then we can have a nice telephone conversation with someone we REALLY like, and it would be much more meaningful than this garbage. You never contacted me in the first place; so if you think I’m going to write another word about this, I’m crazy. Take notes at the next sink-plunging session you get involved in, and remind me to laugh at the resulting jelly donuts you stepped in during the last Global Crybaby Kaka-Roach Festival.

Above all, quit following me. I can smell you in my dreams. I know the model of automobile you have been repairing lately. It is futile for you to hide from observation, there is a satellite transponder in the kitchen with your name on it. What was your name again? Nevnex? Something like that.

In the meantime, here are some friendly suggestions you may memorize each day until you lose the list; at which time I will cease and desist from any further wild cabbage infusions.

Jump loudly with bugs; they will appreciate the entertaiment.

Try not to eat too many crayons.

When you sneeze, grab your neighbor’s shirt sleeve quickly to avoid spreading snot globs.

Always keep extra cheese in your spare tires.

While shopping, yell “HOOT NAH!!” very loudly at 10 second intervals while waiting in line.

And finally, don’t forget to lose this list.

Your Anonymous Friend,

Me

Why Pigs Don’t Fly

In the true spirit of ghostly gestures, there will be no seance tonight due to heavy cream spoiling on the radiator. The remonculous odor of irregular toe cheese has permeated the room, and the spirits refuse to enter. Even dead people can’t spray enough room deodorant to quench the thirst of a pudding merchant! Besides, remonculous is NOT a word.

Now we get to the part where we have all been urged to smear mayonnaise on our arms and upper torso. Especially vital while at the beach, this activity is a truly soothing way to look like a total geek. After applying the mayo, several devotees have been known to roll in the sand for added excitement. This of course has been the primary factor in the development of the latest fashion craze, the

“sandshirt”.

New things have been added to potatoes which will improve their ability to float through the air. Small, retractable “air paddles” are located in strategic sections for locomotion and navigational stability. Since most active taters soon tire of loping along, starch rockets have also been introduced for rapid propulsion. Additionally, revolutionary velcro brakes have been installed for sure-fire

quick stops.

Next time your spuds go for a little spin through the house, listen closely for the barely audible click that occurs when the air paddles are engaged. Upon hearing the click, hunker down in your chair; because the starch rockets will energize shortly thereafter. Don’t be surprised if your assistance is required when their little joyride is done. Those velcro brakes stick to curtains like there’s no

tomorrow!

Pigs have not yet been able to get off the ground for more than a fraction of second. Air paddles were found to be miserably ineffective with pigs due to their large mass. It was once thought that the presence of pork fat would make a natural lubricant which would enable the air paddles to engage quickly and easily; but the fat inhibited the motion of the paddles instead. Those poor piggies would watch a spud go by and start clicking with everything they had, but to no avail.

Starch rockets would obviously be inappropriate for the porkers, but Mognut R. Wobbynock has proposed the following possible alternatives: pig poppers, pork propellers, and bacon blasters. To date, the bacon blaster seems to have the most thrust; but the exhaust from its tailpipe has induced passersby to invite themselves over for breakfast.

Well, as you know, the universe is a strange and wondrous place to be. Being includes singing, riding a whale to work, and eating pastry. My thorough understanding of this dimension should help all electrically sensitive people know that their medication is really a giant animal begging for the

latest news on powdered worms.

I have undergone much emotional turmoil lately, what with my clam running away with the family crescent wrench and all. So I offer you all my insights, and I’m sure that we will soon have salad with radial tires. If you become down in the dump, get out of there quickly because people throw the most godawful things in the garbage! Do not cling to your material possessions. Give them to me and I will sell them quickly for half of what they are worth. I like to have money to buy candy bars; so you will be doing me a great service and I will be sure to thank you.

BATHE REGULARLY AND PLAY YOUR RECORDS AT THE WRONG SPEED, AND

YOU WILL NO LONGER NEED A REASON TO SMILE.

If grandsons had silly names, this would be: An Open Letter To Picklefoot And Roodlebop

Dear Shibbles,

As you probably don’t remember, both of you have never squeezed oatmeal until birds joyfully used their clang whistles to welcome home the Screaming Sauce Warmers. Oh my, those were the days, right?? NO!! And additionally, I’m really glad neither of you were tossing laundry baskets at passing water buffalo. I mean, you know about that one time when Larry the Giant Goose Tickler sneezed into his milkshake, right?? Yep, all the raccoons cheered for days. After they smeared peanut butter on their eyebrows, their happy faces looked very silly; but soon they were all telling jokes in French during the Sweet And Sour Moon Dance.

Once I taught a turnip how to blow bubbles with a rake!! Oh wait… maybe that was a dream. If you eat too much cat hair during a nap, you often tend to dream strange things. Very polite tapeworms keep sneaking into my stereo system; which of course makes my vinyl records sound very squirmy. The scissors found a way out of the sewer while they were traveling to Snorktown; so none of us worried that they would miss any meals. Besides, every time a notebook jingles its paper clips, a tape dispenser sings very purple mustard sandwiches.

I’m starting to use crayons instead of my cellphone. This works rather poorly but at least my ears have nicely colored plywood manure samples. Half of my head has raisins, the other half has little tiny beetle caves that glow loudly during the Software Surprise Vertical Lip Licking Contest. All prizes are sold to the loudest burper. Burps can be flavored for nicer color, such as Yellow Strawberry Mist or perhaps Animal Cracker Fuzz Fog. If they are ziffled with a musical tone, burps can relieve Belly Kaboom; which is severe stomach pressure caused by too much gravy in a very small jar. A little prevention, however, is a good way to suggest that everyone leave the room before the onset of Intestinal Volcano (it’s very bad for the noses).

I’m sorry to say I’m crying right now. The laughter from building all this nonsense is making my ankles longer to the point that water is leaking from my eyes. Seriously, I guess maybe it’s good that my own nonsense makes me giggle very bigly, but for some reason all this very silly text has caused my toothbrush to start calling me Crab Neck. And I don’t believe Crabs even know how to order pizza!!

So my dear Molecules, if you’ve read this far, I hope you’ve enjoyed at least a smile or two that you can slide out of your shoes and into a brand new Automatic Bread Roasting Crinkle Toilet. The Moisture Monsters will certainly be pleased that nobody remembers their “fling snail juice in the sock drawer” tricks. We can only hope that none of this information is used to remove stinky earphone grease from speaker cabinets.

Peace, Love, and Lamplicking,

Zabblefoot W. Broopwonkle

a.k.a. Herman The Soup Blaster

How To Change The Weather


If you live in Michigan, you’ve been enjoying a remarkably mild winter this week month of the year time day. I can offer a simple explanation for this constabulary indigestion: I threw coat hangers at the sun all last week. Yep, I threatened the sun within an inch of its life. Much yelling and flinging, yelling and flinging. When you embark upon such an ambitious goal, it’s very important to be loud and repetitious. As you can see it paid off. Now we can all be happy that the sun will listen to me when I shout.

My beautiful girlfriend, Zonikula, was completely compressed at my perforation. I know this to be true because she would often fling open the door and shout, “boy, you’re really something, aren’t you??” during some of my sun training routines. At this point I would look toward her and smile, and she would then say a few more words while shaking her head. Of course I took that to mean, “oh, the poor sun has no idea what it’s up against with this hubby of mine.”

She is so proud of me.

Disfortunately, however, the weather cribbled from Holy Moly Cold to What The Hoochie?? Warm. This of course brought Very Big Rain and Very Fast Snow Melt, which of course brought water into our basement and many other armpit caverns. Roads have been washed away, buildings badly damaged, Too Much Warming Too Darn Fast. I very much apologize to my friends and all those whom I’ve never met for my meterological coat hanger amplification.

I will do some fancy dancing tomorrow in an effort to make Nice Weekend Weather. You see, it’s rather important to me that we have nice weather this weekend because I plan to get off my butt and rent a blanex. I have been putting it off way too long; I need to recover the hammer sand that keeps purging my swamp honkles. The window of opportunity is very gummy and full of decomposing marble trays; so if I don’t get this done before the tingly science filters arrive I’m sure I’ll be living in the boathouse.

I mean seriously, do you ever expect the train to stop on time? Nobody sees that far. Please, just resimplify twenty three percent of your milktoast warblers and bark moonly at the wild. After all, there’s really no certainty that Calvin the Edible Plastic Spoon Vendor will be able to click in the parking lot for more than 12 milliseconds.

So my friends, you can obviously confer that changing the weather is easier than pushing a large oak toothpick into a deliciously prepared cast iron jelly donut. If you ever have any doubts as to the antiquity of my animation, please amplify your pencil sharpener with short, regular spritzes of vinegar and moose dust.

If none of those calibrations deplete your catatonic sofa concerto, simply stuff your mouth full of corn bread and sing at least 3 verses of “The Rhyming Song.”

Imaginary Florksnibbles

Dear Lumpflatteners,

Please enjoy the clam sandwiches currently available at the Old New Dehli Deli.  You will find the sam clandwiches right next to the Belly Jellies, in the frinkle sauce department of a Kolibbik store near you.

You may qualify for a package of used cheese.  Please do not write to the following address to see if you have entered your name in the North American Bilge Experience (NABE):

Log Turner Contest
24Cx Bugsnot Blvd.
Chiclet, MI  44404

Please call 1-800-555-1212 for the number.  Ask for Phlegm.

Be advised that all nickels will be collected by a rodent during the coming drainy season. Do not worry about any plugged drains, for as we all know if a plain gets drugged there are more than enough socks to prevent the chafing.  Hey!!  What’s that gourd doing with the cat food now??

Now of course you can be happy to know that I have more paper for sale than ever before.  Some of it is useful. If you want some, send $23.70 in dickels and nimes to my pet dirt clump over there in the hedgerow.  Upon receiving the money, I will send you your 43 tons of compressed paper. Please make sure the car is not in the garage that day.

If any of this makes sense to you, make sure you contact your local Hamper Salesman by July 27, 2019 .  There are also community resources on which you can rely, such as the Cribbled Office Of Pie Stashers (COOPS) and the Ceramic Octagon Plucking Society (COPS).  Neither of these entities will run to your aid.  Therefore, if you understand any of what has been written heretofore, you are basically toast.

Enjoy toast with all your might.  Remember, the toast you crave may be on loan.

Happy Bortinkulars to you, and may the sand never fly into your cereal.

My eyes are lamps,

Kebbic G. Fefflewonk
A.K.A. Harvey Ticknoodle

P.S.:  Thank you for changing the tire leggings last night.  I’m not sure my car would have tolerated another month of “swish – swish KABOOM!!”

Moooo!!!

My Meatball Muffins Moved My Mustard

As the title of this story may or may not indicate, our grandsons are visiting this weekend; and my duty of making up a very silly story is being fulfilled with large buckets of animal crackers lightly seasoned with crayon shavings and Captain Kaboom Dust Flavored Saxophone Sauce, rolled into a run-on sentence that of course invites all the truly masculine garbage cans to disguise themselves as tiny triangular toaster tables that shimmer in the darkness of our new Radio Ranch Wiggle Worms.

Yes.

Perhaps none of you have often been asked, “what do you think the most delicious color of the alphabet sounds like??” I never have been asked that either, so of course my very first answer I never supplied was, “Snurch Lip Surprise!!” After saying that out loud for the 347th time, nobody will ever again ask me what time the Peanut M&Ms will be flying in from Antarctica. After all, while Penguin Pete and Silvia Seal drive their go carts to the laundromat, we all will be learning new recipes for Shrimp On The Half Shell and maybe even Chopped Cat Food Surprise.

Mmmm Chopped Half Shrimp Shell Cat Surprise!! Remember the good old days when we stored that in the basement for 23 weeks? Oh my, the smell was bigger than a bag of toast that’s been sleeping in the sewer with all the other fizzy, candy coated ice cream handle bar polishing brushes. I never realized just how much shampoo would be wasted on such a gigantic pile of paper when it explodes out of the sock drawer!! My socks cried for days after powdered sawdust was added to the salad dressing. I was finally able to receive their radio lunches in a less than dignified way… all I had to do was tilt my head back and watch the moths sharpen their antlers on the ceiling fan.

These days, life is much more gribbly, and what I mean by that is we all have to put pudding in a friend’s shoes before they leave on a long trip. This will allow them to squint while they walk, and each step will be a squishy adventure. Who would have ever discovered that lawn ornaments could learn to play hockey with soup ladles? It just proves that we can always use a nice refreshing cup of shoelace extract to help us make friends with all those crazy grasshoppers that hang around at Walmart. Why else would those happy railroad clowns hide their flashlights? Everybody knows that green toilet paper makes the very best substitute for parsley flakes when nobody’s looking. Yes, those removable elbow shields you sold me came in very handy during my last trial run in the “Slide Until You Stink Competition.”

In closing, I’d very much like to make an important announcement.

But not right now.But not right now.

My Important New Year Reciprocities For 2019

Hello Dearest Snapping Turtle Ticklers,

I know this time of year brings out the unique extraterrestrial sandwich making abilities of all the people I’ve never met. After all, another year is coming to a close, and that of course means that a new year will soon be shoving itself under the doorjamb with increasing intensity during the Artificial Aurora Activation, building great suspense as to what the new year may hold in store for us while the cat dashes to the refrigerator for another tall, refreshing glass of Onion Powder Surprise (“…wow!! This tastes like onion powder!! What a surprise!!) and yet another run-on yet very silly sentence makes it way to the interwebs for unsuspecting Chocolate Clickers to read while sipping Bark Noodle Tea.

Yes, I think so.

As the Holidays wind down to a dull roar, this is the time for the often customary promises to be uttered aloud, but sometimes not uttered at all; and these are heavily intensified in order to cajole our brains into thinking that we can actually improve ourselves somehow by creating lofty goals to which we can aspire and hopefully make something better either inside or outside of us.

Huh??

You know, New Year’s Resolutions.

Yes, have some.

OK, I will. Here are some of the revulsions I may or may not be interested in spraying on my Jinkle Toast during the coming year. I must warn the reader in advance: some of these New Year’s Resonations may cause involuntary snorking and / or ha ha crinkling. In other words, I hope they give you a smile.

Therefore and with Great Fanfare, I Hereby Unnecessarily Capitalize The Announcement of My New Year’s Resuscitations For 2019:

R) I hereby promise to try to attempt to take a whack at an effort to strive for an undertaking; and maybe even 7 of those. Attempts. Tries. Maybe.

4) My body fat index has reached 947% !!! OH MY!!! Maybe I need to enjoy fewer Lard Licking Contests!! What do you mean you’re not supposed to eat the bacon grease?? And… no!!! No more Olive Oil Milkshakes made with 100% heavy whipping cream?? Good Gravy!!! How will I survive??? Oh yeah… fruits and vegetables. Oh yes, and lean proteins. More from plants than animals. Yes. Thank you.

G!) As I sit here typing, I realize that I could combine this finger flinging activity with something more aerobic like perhaps hang gliding or bungee cord plunking. I often try with little success to perform bungee cord concerts, but the notes all seem to come out the same. Perhaps the hang gliding bungee cord concerts will give me a new perspective on what it really means to be more like my favorite super hero, Eggplant Man. Um… never mind. Erase this one. Besides, I can’t find my flashlight.

#X) It seems that every year, all I really want to improve is my view of the TV. Please move a little more to the east while we’re binge-watching Vikings or other any of those other outer space adventure series.

U*) After much consideration, I’ve decided to finally come to terms with my new illness: Serial Compulsive Recreational Insect Preparatory Tasting (S.C.R.I.P.T.) Disorder. Yes, Preparatory Tasting… all I wanted to do was find out what an insect tastes like before I decide whether to harvest them for our next social gathering. I’ve learned the hard way that most bugs simply are not delicious, and many object to being tasted. For example, stinkbugs secrete a very nasty bad smell ocka pitoo when being being touched by my tasting tongue. And bees and wasps… well, forget about it!! I’m seeking treatment; but each time I visit the S.C.R.I.P.T doctor I have to wait for 12 minutes for her to stop laughing.

And finally…

1!) My real New Year’s Revolution is always pretty much the same: try to do better. Lord knows I still have much to learn, and I truly hope I can remain teachable in this fascinating journey of uncertainty we call Life.

In the meantime, I’d like to wish you all a Very Happy New Year, and may all your nostrils be free of obstructions; especially when you’re sniffing the delicious lasagna I’ll be making on New Year’s Day.

Peace, Love, and Hugs to You All,

Kenny

A Funny Hallowe’en Story

Here we are again, the grandsons are at our house, it’s late outside, and cartoons are done. Time for the youngsters to hit the hay, and if the hay doesn’t cry too loudly or hurt too badly, then Ollie and Gabe might be able to get some sleep. The hay may not like being hit you see. Not sure if anyone has ever asked. Anyway… teeth are brushed, grandsons are settled in for the night.

“Good night you guys,” I say to both.

“Will you write us a story?” asked Gabe.

“What should I write about?” I queried.

“Ollie,” said Gabe, “what should Papa write about?”

“Well it’s gonna be Hallowe’en soon…” I offered.

“Yeah,” says Ollie, “write a funny Hallowe’en story.”

Well I don’t know about funny, but I do know how to write very silly things. So here goes:

I think this Hallowe’en should be extra special. Ollie could maybe dress up like a vacuum cleaner, and Gabe could be an electric train set. No… that won’t work; we’d have to have very long power cords so they wouldn’t be able to go very far. Perhaps Gabe could be a corn stalk and Ollie could be a bean pod. Or maybe we could color them both green and they could go as two peas without a pod!!

Or not…

I know!! They could just wear their regular costumes, but we could go trick or treating in that one neighborhood where the only treats you get are pepperoni and venison jerky. I believe that’s in the Upper Peninsula of Italy if I’m not mistaken. On the other hand, we could stay local and when we get to people’s houses we could sing “How Much Is That Turkey In The Window” and ask for drumsticks and wings. We could keep the gravy in our pockets… nothing is more satisfying that dipping a turkey wing in your gravy pocket just before a nice nibbling session.

The new Hallowe’en tradition that never happened is the truly awesome practice of yodeling with a mouthful of chocolate milk. This is done by the full moon while walking between houses during trick or treating. If you are actually able to do this it sounds like a strange gargling noise. Try to keep the chocolate milk in your mouth while you walk, we wouldn’t want the werewolves to slip and slide on the milk trail.

My costume will probably be… um… I dunno… how’s about I dress up like a raisin tree. You know, a tree that is in full bloom with raisins. Yes, I know there’s no such thing as a raisin tree; but walking around makes me hungry and when we go trick or treating I’ll be able to pick the raisins off my costume and eat them with my face and hands.

Finally, when we all get back home we’ll need to dump out your trick or treat bags to count how many pieces of turkey venison pepperoni jerky you get. We’ll also need to make sure that if you get any chocolate by mistake, that I take them and quickly plop them into my gravy pockets so I can munch on them later.

If you don’t like any of these ideas, I suppose we could just go regular trick or treating and just get a bunch of candy and stuff.

But that might be boring.