Once Upon A Time, I Used Capital Letters With No Regard For Proper Nouns. That’s Because If I Want To Mix It Up, I ShaLL, and NoBody CaN StoP Me; NoT EveN The GRAMMAR PATROL. So I plunk about on my merry Way, now too Lazy to Capitalize Every stinking word, because I am in control of the keyboard, and not you nor any other dust sniffing, flexible, purple and lavender Irish TV sales representative (who of course would find it very amusing indeed to spill bean soup into your brand new sock drawer) can prevent this run-on sentence; because what have we here now sure looks like a large chocolate bar with almonds which just happens to be my favorite kind, especially when I shave with it during all those silly bread movies that never arrive in a theater near you.

Blimp raisins.

None of this reminds me of the time when I was still working, and I had to have a physical exam because it was required by the LOI (Laws Of Insurance). It went like this…

The doctor told me, “Your blood pressure should not be this high… it’s 738 over 485 you know. And your pulse is 276. If you don’t stop trying to inflate your nostrils by blowing so hard, you could lose your navel from capillary kaboom!!” She also warned me that maybe my job might be causing me too much stress. I said, “Nah, I really don’t mind working in the noodle toss machine. It’s good money, and once in awhile they let me catch a noodle or two. Otherwise, I have to twirl around and allow the semi-soft noodles to coat my shirt and make a noodle coat, the likes of which you’ve never chewed. It’s very crinkly and barky bazoo. ”

Thank God I’m retired now. My likelihood of capillary kaboom is much less, and I also enjoy cookies whenever the chance arises.

However, I do remember the stern warning my doctor gave me. I listened to her coarse, scratchy voice as carefully as a dog who lost its railroad ties during the Great Flambonian Snowstorm of 1873. “But you only have your health once,” she said, grimacing. “You and your wife have skills… you can take them almost anywhere. You don’t necessarily want stress to the point where your eyeballs decide migrate to Albania.” I remember suggesting that perhaps I could sell homemade sinks, or even patent my long lost invention I call The Nostrilator. The Nostrilator removes unwanted booger residue with a small fixture connected to an ordinary garden hose. Oh, and I also reminded her that my Beautiful Girlfriend (a.k.a. my Lovely Wife) is an accomplished maker of finely crafted toothpick animals. People come from miles around to see her life sized models of Brontosaurus Rex and Tyrannosaurus Antler Cabbage. Sometimes she even peeled the noodles off me when I had a tough day at the noodle factory and did wonders in the art of noodleskins. She placed the noodles strategically and sporadically while remorsefully reminding me of the loss of Kronok, our favorite phone charger. All this of course generated income we never saw and shall never see again, because we never saw it in the first place.

As I was basking in the glory of my Beautiful Honey Pie’s Animanoodles, the doctor resumed the exam, which started with that stupid skin shovel. Oooohhh I do hate that thing!!! She runs from one side of the room and clobbers me with the shovel to get her samples. Fortunately it’s only a few millimeters wide… but nearly 7 feet long! She has a small wheelbarrow off to the side with little slots to keep other patients’ skin samples separate from mine. Finally she takes a large whisk and twirls them all about, carefully but indiscriminately mixing all the different samples. Whoever has the strongest DNA will enjoy an exquisite coating of aged cheddar cheese on the back of their neck.

I stinkily remember that for nearly 7 weeks following the exam, I was called Mr. Cheese Neck by our doctor’s staff… a title I proudly boasted to my friends in the Noodle Tossers Fraternity Of Lower Puffington. They were all truly fascinated by the snorking noise one makes when adorned with Cheese Neck Holy Moly.

Some of you who may actually have read this far may snicker at my propensity for verbicide. Well, I already knew what propensity meant, but never heard of verbicide until the day after yesterday. I guess one could say I have verbicidal tendencies. Or even worse, one could say I have vertical tentacles!!! Have you seen those things??!! They stick up out of my head bone!! It’s very embarrassing when I try to go through a low doorway and my tentacles try to hang on to the wall places!! They do help me keep my hat on during a stiff breeze, though.

I sure hope there are more cookies.

How about a cartoon now? OK? OK!!

Dear Friends,

The news has been rather stressful lately. One minute we’re enjoying fond memories of The Beatles 60th anniversary of coming to the U.S. on the Mayflower; and the next we’re crying and rolling on the floor about war, corruption, and global storming. I’m so trinkled by all of the fizzpop that I really can’t bear to lick the remote control!! I’m here to say that for me, there is no better stress relief than writing and / or reading nonsense. Well, there probably are other remedies for stress warts, but nonsense has long been a tool with which I indigulate my heretofore unclogged vascular dandruff bazookas.

My things are starting to become itchy!!

Things include chocolate, the wonder drug of the universe. Chocolate is so doggoned good it should probably be a controlled substance. But someone wisely made it into candy long ago, so now it is completely acceptable in foot smelling contests at the  Annual Martian Rhubarb Flinging Derby. I often cover things with chocolate. My car is brown and slimy as a direct result of this behavior. This is a bit strange when it gets really warm outside, because as I approach the expressway cruising speed of 47 MPH I get brown globs of mugg that splook the windshield. This challenges my dexterity at times, because I often stick my whole face out the window for chocolate catching. I never enjoyed bug covered chocolate before this very time!!

I rented a Blanex last weekend. I needed to recover the hammer sand that was purging my swamp hockey. Run, run, run down a salty road to find the tingly science filters living in the boathouse. Do you ever expect the train to stop on time? Nobody sees that far, so just resimplify your twenty three percent milktoast warblers and bark moonly at the wild. You’ll never be stronger for it.

My Hair has a VERY ugly pair of pajamas that reeks of GIANT, TWELVE-TOED MONKEY SNAKE ENDOCRINE GLANDS!!!  And believe me, that’s pretty darned green and fluffy!  I know a fossil hunter when I hear one, and if you don’t put that stink bomb away right now I’ll sell you a brown leather bedpost at the crack of noon!  Do you understand me?? 

Good golly, I hope not.

Now that you’ve sampled the goat raisins, you are ready to progress to the next step:  wonkling.  Wonkling can be very stationary and exquisitely mobile.  Use something to do a task, throw it in the air, and use it no more.  This is the way of the stationary wonkler.  Change lanes abruptly, apply heat to an iron molecule, and shake your hair until the electrons fall off.  This is the way of the mobile wonkler.  Wonkle like you’ve never wonkled before.  In fact, wonkle as if nobody else is wonkling! That will show them!! 

And now for the shaming:

Do you use toothpaste for tire repair?     Of course not!

Do you slurp fried chicken through a cheese grater??    I hope so!!

Do you walk to school or carry your lunch??    Absolutely!!

Does cat fur remind you of candles made of Jell-O??    If so, you are my kind of snail sniffer!!

Do you really think you can sip a whole gallon of wrinkle juice in one sitting?? If so, please remember that I find deep fried owl toes a most enjoyable snack while driving heavy whipping cream through the vegetable cemetery.

OK, that’s probably quite enough shame for one year or so. Just remember what COULD have happened.  I mean hey, we can’t all be influenced by loofah sponges, now can we??

Remove this teleprompter from your jailing list.

Do it today.

Thank you for the sunrise,

Gleef Vinicktayven

P.S.: My socks are on fire.

And now for a truly delicious version of Bohemian Rhapsody by some of my favorite…um… artists(?)

A friend of ours once said, “Getting older is not for cowards.” Ain’t that the truth?? Our senior years are presenting us with challenges that our younger selves would never have imagined. Believe me, I am exceptionally grateful for the blessings I have received. And in spite of everything going on (and in spit of everything else), my Beautiful Girlfriend and I often take time to remind ourselves how fortunate we are.

But sometimes the stress gets to me and I try to use toenail clippers for a shovel. Stress, therefore and to wit (and also nitwit), stimulates a coping mechanism that flows out of my mind and into the keyboard. Yes my friends, I write nonsensical things as one of many tools for relieving stress. But those who really know me are very aware of that awreddy.

Lately the ham radio thing has brought a much needed relief from the intergalactic stress molecules that seem to have invaded our happy home universe. Ham radio has been a hobby of mine for many years; and I much prefer it to something like bacon television or salami CDs.

Stress is climbing in the window and steaming my watermelons. You know how it goes, you just get home from a long day at the soap regulator and you find out the dryer is broken. Then you get to eat all the dust inside in the effort to bring the dead motor out so you can replace it. This is a very happy time for a keyboard monkey, and when the cardboard is creamy enough you can smear light bulbs on the speaker sneakers. Now if you look carefully at the previous sentences, you of course will deduce that I have no problem dealing with stress. Why is my left nostril twitching, you ask? Why do I convulse while smiling? Why do I try to remember what day the lumber salad is due to arrive?? These are questions only a qualified sinus sturgeon may be able to distribute.

I am also grateful I can be of help to friends with technical matters. They all know I’m a Retired IT Geek Electronics Weirdo (RITGEW), and I try to assist when called upon. Although I would never scream epitaphs at my friends, sometimes I just want to shrug them off with a rant just exactly like this one:

I am really busy these days weeks months, so I will get to you as quickly as my foot things will let me travel. If that is not acceptable, please feel free to smell my toe jam molecules. I cannot help the fact that your smellphone provider wants you to enjoy asparagus ice cream. While you struggle with the all the computer happiness you are able to ingest, I will practice licking my eyebrows while I color all the walls a pleasant shade of cobble hobby maroo. Now please excuse me, I have to send e-mail to all the nice birdies in the tree over there. They are taking me to lunch today, and I don’t want anyone to try to impede my laundry design activities. Clothes are people too, you know!!

No, that would be both mean and naughty. I love my friends and family and I would never intentionally hurt their feelings in that way. I mean hey, how can they possibly know that my sock drawer is full of dust lanterns so thick you can hear them wiggling from 3/10 of a mile away? Am I right? So I refuse to be a Meany Moper Man. If I get overwhelmed (or perhaps just whelmed), I’ll politely ask them what the atomic mass of sofa sauce is and walk backwards while smiling as I head to my car.

As you can see, I’m coping really well. Never mind the fact that I can smell strange colors and my ears can see flying pine trees in the pencil sharpener. Did you know I’ve learned to use magazines for socks? Are you aware that nail polish makes excellent pudding?? From this day forward, I will try to greet everyone I see with great conflagration, and then wonder why they are staring at me with such flatulent potato modules. Breadsticks are in the bathroom and nobody can tell me why. I desperately need to get something from somewhere and find out just what the heck it really is.

As I said, I’m grateful to The Great Spirit for all the gifts with which I and my family have been blessed. But there are times when self care is necessary, and that can come in the form of chocolate and other nutritious snack food oscillations. No centipedes were harmed during the marking of this phlegm. I will continue to be as helpful as I can, especially at home, and iridescently with friends. I will endeavor to keep my chin up, regardless of the likelihood of sniffing spider webs that suddenly appear when my chin-upedness is pointing my eyeballs at the sky. I will seek out only the very best squishy bribble hampers to protect my tail lights while square dancing.

I will make some of the very best soup you’ve ever put in your wallet!!

May I have my dessert now?

Oh, and by the way, 7 x 13 = 28. OK??

We live in a very rich culture. This is illustrated by the number of different foods from which we may choose. Of course, our huge number of choices has also blurred the definition of food. Some of the things we eat are a far cry from the types of things Grandma and Grampa grew on the farm.  What has really happened, unfortunately, is this: the definition of food has been transformed from that which we eat for survival and health, to anything that we can eat without dying. Some “foods” we consume these days are interesting, to say the least. The origin of these interesting foods is at best mysterious, so this manuscript attempts to unfold some of these mysteries.

One example is Jell-O brand gelatin( I’m obeying the trademark laws by writing it that way). Interesting stuff, Jell-O is. Where does it come from?? Of course, it comes from mines. Deep in the caverns of the Earth, “jellite,” the raw material from which all dessert gelatins are made, is found in huge deposits in naturally cooled ice boxes.  Jellite miners are a happy lot, as they are constantly smiling and even laughing aloud because of the strange physics involved in harvesting the stuff from natural deposits. Imagine if you will a large mass of wiggly gelatin acting as if it’s trying to jump off your shovel!

Years ago, miners would eagerly look forward to lunch time, when they could indulge in a sport named “jellite jumping.”  Miners would find a tall jellite cart and dive off into the deposits, sometimes falling into the bouncy goop, and sometimes bouncing right off. Big fun. Food quality standards and health laws, however, brought a quick demise to “jellite jumping,” especially after the renowned case of Groznyk vs. Jellymines, Inc.; in which Frubert Groznyk sued the jellite mining company after finding shoelaces in his dessert.

Moving on, another interesting food item is corn flakes.  Corn flakes are, of course, corn dandruff. Specially selected corn plants are given shampoos far too frequently, and when the scalp dries to excess, corn flakes fall to the shoulders of the plant. Corn Flake Collectors (CFCs) are specially trained individuals who know exactly when the flakes will fall, and are ready with broom corn brushes to wisk the flakes into brand name containers. National cereal chains spend large amounts on their dandruff containers, sometimes even including reading material on the back. But flakes are flakes, so consumers can save a bundle by purchasing off-brand corn dandruff.

Chitlins are considered “soul food” by some folks.  Well, that’s a bit strange to me. We have two chitlins, a boy and a girl, and I don’t see myself going hungry enough to eat either of them. Unless of course they try to move back home. Not really! They’d be way too tough, anyhow. I’ve heard of folks eating anchovies on pizza and other dumb things, but eating my chitlins would be even Dahmer. Just never you mind about eating chitlins. OK?

Hot dogs have been an American staple for many years.  They have a very bad reputation, and are given pet names like “mystery meat,” or the ironically affectionate term, “tube steak.” The ingredients used to make hot dogs is a closely guarded secret, although it is said that any part of a meat animal that can’t be used otherwise is found in hot dogs.  Lips, noses, earlobes, and worse have been speculated as possible ingredients. Hot dogs also contain large collections of preservatives and flavor enhancing chemicals that have been linked to various digestive disorders, and may also affect the central nervous system.

 At this point, I must digress a bit to refute these claims. My mother served us hot dogs often when we were kids. They were used instead of more expensive meats as a main course. Hot dogs, macaroni & cheese, and spinach.  A simply magical meal that covered the three main food groups inexpensively.  In fact, I’ve carried this tradition on to my family, and we just had a nice Hot Dog Surprise Casserole for dinner. Neither I, my family, nor my siblings have ever had any digestive problems; and our central nervous systems are completely intact with the rare exception of vivid hallucinations and strange speaking patterns (oh wait, maybe that’s just me…).

Anyway, as far as central nervous system problems, aside from the occa#i0n9l typ1n6 error$, my brain and nervdes are fine, JUST FINE, OK?? Nice hot dog… come sit down here and we’ll watch TV. I’ll play you a song on my Oscar Meyer Wiener Whistle!! Say hello to Mr. Broccoli. Die Mr. Broccoli!! Die!! You better run!  I throw your face in the macaroni and cheese!! Ha ha ha ha… nice Mr. Broccoli.  Please pass me some more Hot Surprise Dogfood… Thanks!  So, now you all know how food mysteries prevent broccoli from removing sodium gronkulate deposites in jellite pig holders. Until next time, keep smiling at the candy wrappers, and be sure to invite me over when you folks have dot hogs. Or even florn cakes! Jellite for dessert, please; hold the shoelaces.  

Whoa! It’s after eleven o’clock! Do you know where your chitlins are??

So this week’s video has NOTHING to do with the origins of foods… but it’s interesting in a weird sort of way.

The holidays will soon be upon us, and this year has much in common with previous years, materially speaking. I told my Beautiful Girlfriend yesterday, “I have absolutely zero Christmas Spirit.” That’s not because I’m competing with the Grinch. Rather, I get a bit somber about all the money spent on gifts each year. I’ve been asked what I’d like Santa to bring me and I keep coming up dry. I really don’t need ANYTHING. I believe we are very fortunate; and there’s really not a darn thing I want.

However, if any of you have read my silly blog for more than a year (you poor soul!!), you’ll know that every year about this time I send a list of what I require to receive as gifts to make my holidays complete. And hey, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I need to be a bit more assertive about all this Christmas present business. “That’s right,” I says to myself. I says, “Yeah… I deserve to get lots of cool stuff from Santa!! I mean, hey, isn’t THAT what Christmas is all about??” I says.

No of course not.

But just in case, at this time I’d like to force each living soul to read my list of demands for gifts. That’s right, I want youse to buy me lots of cool stuff for Christmas and I’m not taking “NO” for an answer. Actually, I’m not even taking anything for an answer. Just please take careful notes regarding the following list. Seriously. I mean, hey, I don’t normally ask much of my friends, or anyone else who might be unfortunate enough to stumble upon this silly blog posting. OK… disregard the note taking. PRINT THIS LIST and waste lots of paper and ink in the name of environmental sarcasm! That oughta show those darned trees and ink chemicals who’s boss!!

OK, enough with the foot dragging; on with the list. These are very specific requests, so please keep in mind that if I receive the incorrect presents, I shall retaliate by daily forcing my cats to watch 61/2 hours of the weather radar channel on our TV (as you can see, my greed is not a force to be underestimated).

Alright, now that I have your attention, what’s next? Oh yes, the list. And please, have mercy on my cats: when you’re out there shopping for me, remember: you must NOT vary one iota from this list!!

1) First edition, autographed copy of “My Gravy Stained Tricycle” by Jennifer “Warren” Chrysanthemum. (I’ve been searching for this biographical tome for at least 17 weeks.)

2w) 25 kilograms of industrial quality pizza crusts imported from Moose Mountain, Saskatchewan. (They make the very best, please… no substitutes.)

P9) A lifetime supply of red blood cells. What? We make those ourselves?? Oh, fine!

Zot) 14 rhinestone-studded Tupperware sandwich containers. One simply must not ignore fashion during picnics, am I right?

L9G) Genuine plastic containers of cricket milk, preferably the 17 ounce size or larger. (I’m told the chore of milking crickets requires a very small stool and bucket.)

2.K) I could really use some help removing all the broken concrete from the west side of my vegetable garden. I planted it there years ago and I believe it made babies. Please come after dark and bring your own digging tools and floodlights. No need to knock on the door to announce your arrival… and please don’t even think about asking to use the bathroom after getting your shoes all dirty. Just get those stinkin’ things out of there so I can plant more veggies. OK??

B#%) It’s really getting to be high time youse guys brought me some more of those chocolate covered pine cones!!

@1L) You know those candies we used to get all those years ago with the hard, sugary stuff outside and a gooey, jelly like substance inside? Well those things are weird and a little bit nasty in my professional opinion. However, they are fun to lick awhile just before you drop them into someone else’s stocking.

0QY!) Three mating pairs of vinegarroons. I intend to cross breed them with vinegarettes as a method of providing self replenishing salad dressing to my cats while they’re watching the weather radar channel.

1n8) Please pass the Altoids. Have you seen my watch? I sure hope there’s enough windshield washer fluid in my car’s washer tank thingy. Hey… is NCIS on tonight?

And finally,

X27) One winning Power Ball Lottery Ticket. Just one. A winning one. Thank you.

Very well then. I know there’s not much time… Christmas is coming closer every day. Please just get with the program and take care of all my wants awreddy. OK?? OK!!

But seriously folks, please remember to do your best to help those less fortunate than we are. Spread love and be kind to everyone you meet… even the grumpy ones; because as a dear friend of mine used to say, “People who are the least lovable are the ones who need loving the most.” And maybe if we all work, pray, and vote for peace, magical things just might happen in our world.

Speaking of magical things: perhaps you’ve seen this before, but it’s one of our favorite Christmas cartoons.

Since my face and earlobes are enduring more stress than usual, I’ve decided to use this week’s post to be a little extra silly by encribbling all of you with some gibberishness that may or may not make you smile; but I hope perhaps I will smile at the thoughts of my finger typings and contributing even more to the length of this run-on sentence.

Yes, thank you.

So without further ado doo, I hereby emit particles of important flavors that will stick to your nostrils like the very highest quality chicken gizzards. In spite of all that and in spit of everything else, I will therefore list all these vitally symphonic monster blurbs in alphanumeric / chronological / symbolic order, beginning with:

A) Gravy – 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.

R. Flavor Nostrils – I’m thinking I should not have licked those 13 utility poles the other day.  I’m feeling a bit wibbly in my flavor nostrils.

7> Usage – Have you ever replied to a question with obscure usage of words?  Neither am I!!  Yes I don’t!!  What color does that mean?  Avacado.

g% Toe Cheese – 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.

X~ Super Sauce – I intend to inoculate my lunches with Super Sauce so I may become faster than a speeding building and be able to leap tall bullets in a single bound.  After I eat I’ll probably take a nice nap.

72! Continuity – Sometimes my eyes feel like taking a little walk around the block.  Other times they just stay inside my head bone.  I much prefer the head bone eyeball continuity status if that’s OK with you.

111. Stuffing – I really need to quit stuffing donuts in my ears.  But they are so soft!!

3B3, Snacks – Some Of The Most Delicious Snacks Are Capitalized To Enhance Their Complete Lack Of Nutritional Value.

1L+ Toothpaste – I smear toothpaste on my eyebrows almost every other day.  When friends walk by and see me, they ask “Hey, are you OK?”

2D2D: Fizz – Now that I’m getting good at being retired, it’s high time I launched my new invention:  The FizzPhone.  This marvelous device cleans the user’s ears during conversations.  It can be set for various intervals (24 hours, weekly, monthly); and I’ll be working on a “Turbo” mode that will get even the most stubborn gucka-maroo out of your ear canal.

F00! Snack Storage – I’ve decided to keep my snacks in folders so I can organize them according to calorie content.  However, some snacks are not easily folded.

And finally but also last…

U14. Please – I would like to take this opportunity to urge you to please have a Happy Merry and a Joyful Wonderful. Personally, I’m very much looking forward to the Cream of Mustard Celery Toppings and the Dead Snake Surprise desserts!! Oh and the holidays should be fun too…

Well my friends, if you’ve read this far, you may have needed some silliness as much as I do. Please know that I am eager for all of you to be happy, content, OK, or at least grateful. And as I’ve said many times before, “It’s better to be you than for you to be me, and although you can count to it, eight is a word.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

Dear Lumpflatteners,

Before proceeding any further, I must hereby explain that although, upon reading the title, you may be hormonalIy imbalanced, I sincerely hope you are not expecting a detailed description of the origin of incendiary snibbleforks. The reason for this is quite simple: the amount of effort required to induce such indelible mud pastries far outweighs the large pile of recycled celery that has already flattened the tires of my trailer. Instead, 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.  I’ve been keeping my drained plugs here in the bottom drawer of my desk where I’m sure they feel safe and are finally unable to smell the cabbage burning in the candelabra.

Hey!!  What’s that gourd doing in cat food now?? Didn’t we agree that squashpickles are to be granted the same virtual hallucinations as all those oversized pennies we’ve been finding in your moss pockets? Please try to ignore all my future instructions regarding this ink washing procedure.

Thank you.

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 43, 2104 .  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 ever 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!!!

Perhaps this video will give you enough bread sampling encouragement to face yet another week’s festivities which will, of course, include the Dingle Day Dance. Or whatever this is…

Have you ever had one of those days/weeks/months where you are trying your best to try, but try as you might, you just can’t seem to have enough energy to try all the things you’d like to try?

Me neither!!

So in honor of my days/weeks/month of having too many radioactive lima beans lodged in my nether regions, I hereby proclaim that this edition of “Happy Friday!!!” will consist of randomly generated thoughts that came from my headbone, and not any silly Fartificial Intelligence (FI). I will number these thoughts so you can refer back to them at any time, unless of course you have no time, in which case I suggest you buy a compass, speedometer, or perhaps even a wristwatch to get some time under your belt. Or on your wrist.

Here you go then. These random thoughts will be topical in nature, alpha-erratically enumerated, and placed in no particular order.

1. Foraging – I envision a small pepper clown foraging in the wilderness.  There it will find invisible ink with which to write secret recipes. I hope there are also returnable bottles available for spare change!!

L. Muffins – 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 Cream of Toenail soup; then run wildly to the nearest receptacle. We’ll have fun!!

8. Eyebrows – I rarely apply varnish to my eyebrows anymore, but when I do, they are oh so shiny!! Note:  do NOT apply eyebrow varnish while walking through a swarm of bees!! 

They get stuck and will sting until they get loose, resulting in a condition known as “puffbrow.”

11. Drywall – Looks like I’ll need to stop eating drywall chips. I thought they would help my tummy, but now my hiney seems to think it wants to be a building contractor.

V&. Chipmunks – I’ve tried in vain to teach chipmunks how to run my lawn tractor. However, I quickly learned that when it comes to machines, chipmunks do not know their holes from a hiney on the ground.

@. Northern Lights – When I listen closely, I can smell the Northern Lights. This is especially enjoyable during The Combustible Stinkweather Festival.

0. Bandersnag – I’m searching for bandersnag seeds so I can make yummy casseroles to sell online. So:  if you know anyone who remembers Johnny Wumpo And The Fleebs, please keep it to yourself. Thank you.

2z. Stereo – A recent study has in no way shown that 13% of all octopus habitats are lacking in modern stereo equipment.

Bu! Memories – Remember that one time when we never ate moth balls under the bleachers at Zoot Stadium? Oh… those were never the days.

Red. Accordion – Every time I eat a lot of beans, my digestive system becomes very aware of the thunder snacks and reacts accordingly. This has nothing to do with my inability to play the accordion.

K$. Hug Ouch – I’ve always thought porcupines were cute, but nobody ever told me not to hug one.  Please bring pliers and disinfectant.

And finally…

!!r. Seminars – To supplement my retirement income, I’ll be conducting seminars on such valuable topics as “Befriending Small Appliances,” and “Booger Removal Techniques.” To sign up, please send an e-mail and method of payment to smellmytoes@notnow.net

Thank you,

Giblet R. Snoofhorten

————————————————-

OK, that’s probably enough for now. At this time I leave you with the following final thought: Happy Friday to you all!!! May your ears enjoy delicious flavors; and may your nostrils flutter softly in the breeze.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

As the title of this story may or may not indicate, this has been a big and gigantor time of visiting with family and friends during the last few days; so 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 Rust 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 347^th 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.”

All this reminds me of a song I just made up, which of course is sung to the tune of “His Name Is Maroo.”

Here comes the Dust Monkey.  His name is Maroo. 

He’s got plenty of dustings for me and for you.

 I offered him candy to eat on his break. 

He told me, “No thank you, I prefer cake.” 

“I don’t want your dust now!!” I started to whine.

He yelled “Just go and put it where the sun don’t shine.”

I don’t think Maroo and I will ever be friends.

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

This coming Sagnerday I will illegally change my name to Frapzak Mizzlepop, which of course was never a Native American name meaning “Slumbers With Chowder.”  Used donuts and apple chowder vinegar will be served in celebration.

Please always remember to be kind to socket wrenches and other living shopping carts.

In closing, I’d like to thank all of you for who you are. And I know I’ve said it before, but 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.

How’zabout some funny videos? Yes, I find them delicious on a lukewarm pond of egg sauce.

Warning:  the following installment of Frappy Hiday contains large amounts of nonsense and intestinal worms.  Do not read any further if you are prone to sleeping with rubber bands in your cereal or have an allergic reaction to sense that makes no things. 

What the heck kind of title is that?  Anyhow???   Is this going to be one of those stupid dog butt sniffing stories?? Come to think of it, I’m not sure I know any dog butt sniffing stories.  I could maybe make one up, but there’s really nothing you can buy with three nickels anymore.  So why would I sniff the butt’s dog?  Our friend Musky da was very good at sniffing a butt’s dog in his day, and he seemed to be very intent with this activity.  Does this mean that sniff dogging is similar to wise wondering?

No, this is an adventure in stress relief.  You see, I’m being a bit indulgent here… and I’m going to just crack open a jar of petroleum jelly and a box of crackers, and make a nice snack that not only sticks to your ribs but lubes the bones and coats the skin with a nice shiny paragraph on Al Gore and his TV Dinners.  Then I’ll wash it all down with a nice tall glass of dry ice.   Life has presented numerous “challenges” of late, ok?  I placed “challenges” in “quotes” because there are some “people” who are getting on my “nerves” and I would love to “choke” them but I don’t want to go to “jail” just because the “kakaheads” are making me “crazy.”  You “know” what I “mean??”

Then we have “those people over there” who seem bell lent for heather to “drive me up a tree” and I don’t even have a seat belt for that tree or anything.  No air bags neither.  No smell phone to stick in my ear so I can drive like a zombie and crash into a giant salami.  I mean hey, if someone is determined to “tree me up a drive,” the very least that person could do is provide air conditioning and a hybrid engine that gets well over 93 miles to a gallon of ice cream.

Am I right or am I wrong??

Of course I am!!

I’m keenly aware that the only “solution” to letting someone “up me tree a drive” is to tune out their bullroni and strongly suggest that nasal cheese insertion be performed.  The instructions would come in a format very much like this:

“Hey you with the face!  Remember that one time when you decided to wear your smell phone on your head to drive irreverently during thundersnow and big fat swollen dead raccoons??  Are you in the want of pickled toilet paper?  I am now urging you vehemently to cram large cheese globs in your nose to enhance your breathing!!  And while you’re at it, why don’t you place your tongue in that electrical box over yonder??  That box needs testing, and you’ve just the tongue to do it!”

This, I am sure, is the only true way to diplomatically tell  flame-headed wombats just how wonderful you feel about  their actions.

Don’t you agree??

Of course I do!

I was also very compressed at the driving ability of one total bark-eating numbskull just a few yargons ago while retrieving our grandsons for a nice weekend of “Lick The Thistles.”.  There I was, careening down the expressway in my 2014 racing Toyota Sienna, and going the legal speed limit or even less, and some tonk-mookler decided to pass me with less than 2 millimeters clearance between his bumper and my front fender with no regard for the safety of any insects or other humans.  I mean, this tampon-brain forced me into the evasive “holy cow” maneuver.  Then of course he (or she??) proceeded to cut off numerous other innocent sidebanders while zipping in and out of traffic.   Now THAT’S intelligence, don’t ya think?  Seedless to nay, I had a few opinions which instantly arose from my brain and out of my mouth as I flailed the steering wheel about while I tried to prevent the kersmooshing of automotive metal molecules and finely crafted petrochemicals.

Now, believe me, I understand that people don’t intentionally do things TO me, they just DO THINGS.  But sometimes I just let it get to me, and then I go find a bug and try to teach it to sing karaoke.  And of course, trying to teach a bug to sing karaoke is not very considerate at all.  I try to be tolerant of people who are less than wonderful…   I think I’m getting better at being nice these days; but while my eyes and mouth are being pleasantly neutral, my mind is screaming at the top of its lungs:

“HOLY MACKEREL, WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BREATHE ON THIS PLANET??  I’M BECOMING CONVINCED THAT YOU NEED TO EAT BARK AND POOP AT THE MOON!!”

This is not very kind, so I’m very grateful that I don’t often react with nastiness to those type of folks.  Anymore.  Used to be I would actually SAY  the things that my mouth wanted to spit, but then I’d have to apologize and offer expensive candy or something.  Maybe that’s part of getting old enough to remember when the Beatles came over on the Mayflower, I dunno.  But I DO know that stress is a very small pair of pajamas that seek dogfood in a jar of jellybeans.  So the next time I get angry, please remind me that there really is a bus that has one way tickets to Indianapolis.  I don’t really want to go there, but if I never run away again it will be the next time.

I had an ice cream cone today.  That was helpful. And in spite of the intense heat, most of this tasty treat went into my mouth.

Speaking of stress… wasn’t I speaking of stress??  I’m very grateful that I don’t work for a living anymore.  But if I did, I’d certainly seek a job where the stress is zero minus 173 and you get paid for loafing. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello did a nice bit about just that very subject…