Hello Nice Friendly Peoples!

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

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

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

—————————————

Dear Fossilbrain,

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

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

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

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

Yours in Tender Shouting,

Breem Pifflewonk, Esq.

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

———————————————–

OK!! Now on to da cartoon!!  And it’s a WEIRD one…

Please note: you are reading this message because you are on a secret list that only the Cheese Vendors can access with toaster friendly amplification.  That being said, I want to warn you all that I feel a little nonsensical today due to the paperclips that Mr. Ventricle keeps inserting into our favorite spoon sharpener.  It is therefore with gravy and peanut clustered insulation that I send you this very Unimportant Announcement.

My Dearest Habbniferns,

I’m sure none of you are wondering by now whether the sky has been removed from the Ionized Bugle Machines (IBM). There’s probably a good chance that someday I can divulge the particulars of that molecular substation, but this is no time for soaking baby toys in cups of sesame oil.  Besides, all that powder I keep in my toenail drawer simply must find its way back to Gattlestar Ballactica.

Am I right or am I wrong??

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

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

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

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

So there.

Yours with no hair,

Abnick G. Wiffleponk

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

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

Well I finally done did it. I created an account on OpenAI, the website where ChatGPT lives. If you haven’t heard, ChatGPT lives on an artificial intelligence platform and is designed to respond when you send messages to it. Can’t say I’m a fan of all this artificial intelligence stuff. I do agree that it has great potential for problem solving and such, but I also worry about humans who would use its power for naughty purposes… that could be frightening. My apprehension has finally submitted to my curiosity. I simply had to try it.

Of course, being the kakahead I am, I did my best to get this robotic rhetoric regurgitator to make silly. Here are a few of the results of my frivolous fribbling:

Me: I’ve decided to cook some pencils and feed them to my bicycle.

ChatGPT: Feeding pencils to a bicycle is not recommended as they are not suitable or digestible for bicycles, and cooking them would likely render them inedible for any purpose.

Me: Why are ducks calling me Herman? Answer with one sentence please.

ChatGPT: Ducks are calling you Herman because they have associated you with the name due to repeated exposure or conditioning.

Me: There is a toad stuck in my armpit.

ChatGPT: Please seek immediate medical assistance for the safe removal of the toad from your armpit.

Me: Why would a cat put a crayon in a car’s gas tank?

ChatGPT: Cats typically do not intentionally put crayons or any other objects in a car’s gas tank, as their behavior is primarily driven by natural instincts and curiosity rather than specific motives.

Me: I’m thinking you’ve been drinking slug slime again.

ChatGPT: As an AI language model, I don’t have a physical presence or the ability to consume substances like slug slime. My responses are generated based on a database of text and knowledge. If there’s anything specific you’d like to discuss or any questions you have, feel free to let me know.

Me: Click wildly as the mouse pointer glides toward the new toilet motor.

ChatGPT: It’s important to handle electronic devices and appliances safely and avoid any potential hazards. Interacting with a mouse pointer and a toilet motor in that manner could be dangerous and is not recommended. Please exercise caution and follow appropriate safety guidelines.

Me: What the hell is a toilet motor??

ChatGPT: I apologize for the confusion. There is no such thing as a “toilet motor.” I misspoke in my previous response. A toilet typically doesn’t have a motor, as it relies on gravity and water pressure for flushing. My apologies for any confusion caused.

(My thoughts: ChatGPT appears to be well versed in CYA.)

Me: Say something silly.

ChatGPT: Sure, here’s something silly: Did you hear about the mathematical plant? It grew square roots!

(I have to admit, that made me laugh.)

Me: You don’t seem to know what I mean by silly. Say something nonsensical.

ChatGPT: Burplefloofle snickerdoodle wobblepants gigglesnort!

(Sorta silly…)

Me: Landerponk zickleymargen broo-hickety sembtofe, bizzle cagiloopen!!

ChatGPT: Gobbledygook flibbertigibbet ziggity-zag, woggleflop blibber-blabber doodle-dag!

(Meh…)

Me: Moochy?

ChatGPT: Hoochy-moochy, moochy-roochy, boochy-woochy!

(Copy cat!!)

So ChatGPT seems to think it can be silly… but I prefer to replicate my own syllables with orange meatballs and over extended soda crackers. You may have heard on the news that some scholars are using ChatGPT as a replacement for their own brain power to compose term papers, etc. Well not this guy. It was fun while it lasted, but I’ll be leaving ChatGPT in the dust of my nonsense while it grows up big and strong to take over the universe.

“Hoochy-moochy” indeed!!

So ChatGPT can either be amazing, or scary… or perhaps both. Like this for example…

Dear Lardsnorts,

It has been reported to me that some of you have been been accused of pickling corduroy. Well I’m here to tell you, that if you don’t begin doing something else soon, you won’t be able to do anything very soon. Soon you will know that something else was done long before The Egg Sniffing hour.  By that time, will you even be aware that those things you ate last night contained absolutely nothing nutritionally resembling turtle snouts??

I should hope not!!

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

Anyhow??

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

Cheese is applied during the evening hours.

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

Last time we were never there, the noises of our crawlings were completely different than the normal klick, klick, clomp as we sniggled down along the Mosquito Ribber near the old Cobb plant (where Cornn is Kingg). Suckers were busy catching humans that were running up the river. Very remarkable. Garter snakes tried to trim our fingernails as we invaded “their space;” and as they wriggled gently over our eyebrows all 13 of them kept whining about how they were missing their favorite Applesauce Program. Why They Capitalized These Strange TV Program Words With Their Nostrils Remains A Mystery To All Of Us Who Enjoy A Complete Breakfast Of Oats Coated With Bullet Proof Mustard.

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

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

Ah yes, those were the good old moldy days.  When we was kids, we were required to drool into 3 gallon containers until the Body Odor Horns blasted all of our Stink Juice into the rafters.  Drool collections were repeated incessantly until each container was full of enough crayon dust to power a small rhinoceros wagon.   This of course required us kids to stand on our stomp ladders with rafter rakes in hand, to collect as much Stink Juice as we could to moisten the clanger modules.

My fellow Corporate Citizens, please to not regard the aforementioned statements as instructions for personal fungus removal.  Simply incorporate all what was stated here into your dreams until the rinse cycle is complete.

OK.

Now you have been klempered.

Please resume your taddle-brickling.

My chair eats frogs,

Hyram C. Pooflestench

A.K.A. Peeper Fling Muskellunge

Here now are some video analyses of the effects of sauerkraut saturation on blind ants.

Dear ScreenStarers,

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

A real physical ailment has arisen from smartphone addiction: text neck (<–there’s a link for you if you’re curious). It’s just another one of those whoopee, hibbledyboo happy times from too much technology in your soup toaster. If any of you have read my silly bagga-maroo on this crazy blog thing for more than two seebits, you are probably aware that although I have (thankfully) retired from the IT universe; I pride myself in being something of a technical dinosaur… at least at home. That’s right kids, I still have a record player, VCR, CD / DVD player, I listen to AM radio (on a real radio…).  We do have the internet, and it’s only $30 a month with free air to breath and free dirt outside we can walk upon. And yes, boys and girls, we still get most of our television worm sauce from a weird fixture perched upon our roof, and it’s called an antenna. In our professional opinions, cable has always simply cost too much; which of course prevents me from having enough extra cash for important staples like strawberry flavored pork rinds and Cabbage Cola.

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

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

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

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

I go now.

Peace, Love, and Straighter Necks,

Hyram C. Gilmore

a.k.a. MooseHammer McFluffington

Oh… speaking of obsession…we LOVE OK GO.  Following their song, “Obsession” are a couple technology songs.  The last video is just plain fun.

Hello Dearest Staplegun Sniffers,

You may be wondering why I would write a story on the interwebs with a title like “Milktoast Dandruffbaskets.” Well, let me assure you that it is NOT Spam. Spam is a mookey, galumpish but nutritious… well edible… I think… meat thing that comes in a can and is revered by Monty Python.  If you’ve never heard of Ponty Mython, please wiggle wildly with weird wobbly whatchamadingers so I can learn how to write in cursive once again without using Filbert, my pet Crayon, to enlarge the tiger glasses that magnify all but the largest of shampoo bottles.

I would have written sooner, but probably not, because I am righting write now and it’s Friday night and my wife’s eyebrows are brand new but we ate all the chips that came with the delicious sammiches we bought from the Walker Roadhouse and they were pretty good;  but sometimes I am trying to remember other things which are ancient history in my brain because I mean hey, I’ve written many more than 17 stories over the years and I have difficulty remembering what I had for Taco Salad With Onions And Ketchup Hold The Mayo On A Whole Wheat Cabbage Bowl That Never Existed So Why Oh Why Must I Continue With This Poorly Punctuated, Unnecessarily Capitalized Last Section Of The Run-On Sentence Thing?? Anyway????

Why??

Oh… I can stop that now? OK, thank you.

Yes friends, I’ve been rapidly slowing down during the whole week of this past week of my retired week time; and now it’s time for the week to end (hence the name, “weekend”) (am I smart or what?) (I don’t think I’m any smarter than YOU are.) (oh so now we have the superfluous parentheses??) so I can take some time and like, you know, stop worrying about time for at least the present time; but to be honest I’ve rarely worried about time during my retired time. Speaking of the present time, have you ever given someone time for a present? All you have to do is spend some with them. You’ll never get the time back but that’s the whole point you see. You are being. With them. Both (or all) of you being at the same time; with each other, existing together in unison while enjoying companionship and perhaps also partying with some nice fluffy marshmallow muffins made with new and improved moisture molecules.

This, I think, is the true meaning of fluffy friendship.

Well as some and /or none of you are aware, my hair is vanishing pretty much every day I think. Some of it’s turning grey and some of it is turning loose. I still plan to grow it longly and donate it until my hair no longer grows out of the little tiny hair volcano that sticks out of the back of my ears. Every 27 milliseconds, the hair lava flows out of my elbows and migrates to the hair brush with soft music playing very loudly at a very high speed. Once the television is planted in the potato bed, be sure to mulch your fingernails with only the highest quality Play Doh. This will ensure that your belt stays fastened securely to the garden tractor for a much more enjoyable paddle boat explosion.

Very well. Did I mention that my gratitude is really big this week?  It’s true you know.  My Lovely Bride and I have been blessed beyond measure so even though I complain sometimes, I really have nothing to complain about.  Therefore I will do everything I can to enjoy each day as it comes, knowing that I can learn from yesterday but I cannot change it; and I hope there is a tomorrow but I just don’t know.  Therefore I am doing my very best to enjoy each day as it is given to me; and I will pretend that when Ogbert Noztillocken throws her delicious Clicking Pot Pies at my hubcaps, I will simply resign to the likelihood of the appearance of newly discarded soda cans and simply guess that it’s how ladies wear their chainsaws these days.

Please remember to eat lots of string for more fiber.

Happy Friday,

Hyram C. Gilmore
a.k.a. “Monkey Head Jones”

How’s about some videos from the time of before today’s time??

We stole the grandsons from their parents tonight. The parents were not at all opposed to this, pretty sure they like a little alone time every now and then. Most of the time, we pick the boys up on a Friday evening, which as you all know is the day I wrote a story. Once upon a time, when our grandsons were much younger and more frivolous, I would beseech them to give me fodder for silly “Happy Friday!!!” stories. Alas, that time appears to be waning. Whether it be maturity (Huh?? What’s that??), or some sort of societal influence, I just don’t know. But for whatever reason, tonight pulling silliness from their noggins was more challenging than usual. These days, they’re laser focused on video games. That’s OK I suppose, but if they had their own way the games would be on 22.4 hours a day, 7 days a week. The remaining 1.6 hours would of course be reserved for eating and going to the bathroom. Anyway, shortly after we got to our house I asked them a favor.

“Hey guys, put the devices down for a few… I need some nonsense sentences for Happy Friday,” I announced. Their response: crickets. Figuratively speaking of course. In other words, they didn’t give me crickets, but when they stared at me silently with glazed eyes, I thought maybe some crickets should be singing in the background. I tried to kick things off.

“My elbows don’t reach to the floor anymore;” I blurted. Both of them smirked and chuckled a bit.

“Cheese,” Ollie replied. Sounded like a good start… so I implored them to continue, but again, crickets. Then I suggested something truly fun (at least I enjoy it greatly): opening the Notes app on the iPhone, and instead of typing, one presses the microphone icon and utters gibberish. Apparently, both boys were aghast at such a suggestion; as they both floundered and were unable to say anything silly. So again, I led the way.

My gibberish was transcribed into, “Marcus, nap and phlegm painting and bad snow Chi Amo.”

Then Ollie chimed in with a brief blurb, which became “Matinee.” “Good!” I exclaimed. Got anything else?

More crickets.

My turn again: “There’s no excuse for zucchini it doesn’t look anything like sheep.”

Gabe finally ventured an unintentional contribution: “I don’t have a word in my brain right now.”

To my surprise, my Beautiful Girlfriend piped up, and the phone was sure she said, “Minewood beach chocolate strawberries.”

Then the phone picked up some random chatter: “Myrtle verbal I don’t think it’s talking anymore. Oh there goes.”

“The marsupial ate my friends lunch again,” I added. “And then the marsupial threw up,” my Lovely Bride continued. To prevent the momentum from diminishing, I hit the microphone icon again and pointed at Gabe. He was speechless. I interjected, “You’re frightened of the phone? My nostrils are full of splinters again. Both of my egg shells ran away with the cheese maker!”

Ollie busted out with some more gibberish, which was transformed to “Tap the top sick restart.” Then he paused momentarily and dug up something on his phone: “The top 16 words that start with H are hack, handy, holy, humane, hilarious, handsome, handsomely, halo, heartening, heavenly, hunk, honorable, hood, humble, heart, and husband.”

“My husband is a coffee pot!” I replied. And finished the composition with that old saying that everyone knows: Snake snot slithers silently, stupendously, and stinky.

Whew!! That’s enough for one day, don’t you think??

Well except of course for the video fun…

Awright… I’m asking all the people who are still cramming garlic bread into their pencil sharpeners: Who The Heck Caused My Belly To Be So Darned Big?? If you are knowing the answer to this very important jingle clamor; please send a postcard to Ribbit, my pet USB drive that hides under the inkjet printer surprise folders.

I mean, hey, all I did was enjoy the food that my mouth found to be very delicious. Is that so bad?? Oh, I may have accidentally had a small sandwich late last night. But I was told that’s OK so long as you put the mayonnaise back in the mailbox before December 34th of the following equinox. Then there was the time that I found some cake in the fridge and it jumped into my mouth while I was watching episode 917 of The Ninkle Family Jumps Over The Fire. Of course, the 940 calorie imitation milk flavored chocolate juice food may not have been such a good idea to use for washing the cake down.

I really like cake.

Did they ever get that low calorie pizza on the market yet?? Pizza is one of my favorite vegetables. Some dear friends of ours treated us to pizza just yesterday; and it even had stuffed crust!! Believe it or don’t, never in my living life have I had stuffed crust before. I’m quite certain it had zero or perhaps even negative calories. I say this because pizza tastes so doggoned good, so therefore it cannot be harmful to eat just as much as my mouth can get into it. I did exercise some restraint last night, however. As a defattening measure, I ate from the fruit plate. This practice, of course, will nullify the caloric impact of all the heavy carbohydrates and cholesterol laden meats and cheeses that are such important ingredients in a good pizza.

Cheese and meat are two of my favorite vitamins.

My wife forced me to eat a lot of chocolate during the Holidays. This of course was preceded by my purchasing several bags of chocolatey delectables. We very much enjoyed watching movies and snarfing on bonbons. After my stash was demolished into our eagerly awaiting tongue cabins, a few days later she came back from the store announcing that she had a craving for Reese’s peanut butter holy moly thingies. Word to the wise: if you get the seasonal Reese’s, you know, the ones shaped like trees for Christmastime and the ones shaped like eggs for Easter; well those are the freshest and most yummy. The “generic” Reese’s peanut butter cups have a shelf life of, I think, 271 days. In spite of this, I’ve never been sad when eating Reese’s peanut butter chocolate covered holy moly blobs.

Candy is good for your bones.

Least but not last, you have pumpkin (pronounced PUN-kin) pie. I never use pumpkin for such pies; because my personal opinion is that pumpkin has very little flavor. No, I grew some truly wonderful hubbard squash this past year, and that is my favorite for pie making. Even before adding anything, it tastes very much like sweet potatoes. I was forced to make 3 of these this past holiday season. Well OK, one was for the Thanksgiving time. Then we had a delayed “Friendsgiving,” so because I had LOTS of squash and pie crusts come two in a package, well I just had to make two pies (one stayed home). My friends ask, “OK Kenny, is this pumpkin pie or squash pie??” And I reply, “Well first of all, pumpkin is squash, but this is made from hubbard squash.” Then they snork and say baroo to me and enjoy the pie when I serve it. Of course, punkin pie must always be served with real whipped cream.

Pie has vitamin P for pep!!

With all the wonderful eatings during the holiday times, something went wrong with the gravity in our house. I know this because when I stepped on the scale the other day, it read way higher than I thought was correct. I’m pretty sure it’s not the scale, because we bought a pretty good one and it was reading OK in October. Nope… I’m pretty sure that either someone is messing with our gravity calibration or maybe it has to do with the phase of the Wolf moon. This gravitational anomaly has caused my belly to appear larger than normal. Not sure what to do about all this. I’ve heard horrible utterings like maybe I should eat less and exercise more??

Nah.

Greetings to all on this almost the last day of 2022. I hope you all had a safe and happy holiday universe these past several week months. Many of us have endured hardships and loss, but I submit that anyone reading this is a very blessed person. For why I am say this, I am ask with terrible grammar?? Because hey, if you are reading this, that means you are able to access the interwebs, AND you have a device that allows you to open silly web pages such as this one. Therefore and two wits, you are much more fortunate than many humans on this globe we call Earth.

Me too.

So hey, if we are blessed, then we also have room for improvement, right? Well I can’t speak for anyone else, but I’m very sure that there’s lots of stuff I could probably do better. It is in this spirit of improvement, therefore, that I submit to you the following list of revulsions I either do or do not intend to embrace as methods of improvements for the New Year.

OK, here we go…

1, I hereby promise that I will write shorter sentences when I am trying to express myself with written words on a screen, on paper, or even on the sidewalk, because I’ve noticed that if I write sentences that are too long then people have difficulty controlling their breathing while reading them aloud to their children or even their pets; and hey, who knows, they may even want to read something to their toasters or perhaps even a passing praying mantis who has absolutely no concept of English or any other foreign language, much less be willing to be bored by a run-on sentence which obviously this has become.

So there.

L! I will do my best to improve the appearance of my garbage and recycling. Perhaps I could arrange the recycling in complex yet attractive geometric patterns; and in regard to garbage, well it’s just trash so the heck with it… it can just sit there like the garbage it is. I mean, who’s gonna care really?? Oh… you gonna call the Gobbich Police?? Well fooey on you, by golly dere!

9? Remember all those times I talked about losing weight? Well of course you don’t, you weren’t there!! So if you don’t remember, well just forget about it!! And even if you were there, just forget it also too in addition even!! Do you know how hard it is to keep weight off when you love to eat??? I mean c’mon awreddy!! Whatcha gonna do?? Call the Gobbich Police?? Oh wait… that was from before. Never mind, please.

Y* It’s possible that I sometimes am silly. Well this coming year, I hereby promise to continue to be silly. I’ll try a little harder not to be silly at inappropriate times. For example, it may not be appropriate to put my fingers in the meatballs at a potluck and use the gravy to accent my eyebrows. No, that would only be OK if the meatballs were really good and you want to make sure nobody else will go for them.

q7$ I will refrain from writing nonsense. Maybe. I’m not sure. Perhaps I could just send nonsensical text messages to loved ones. I have been known to send notes like: “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.” Or perhaps a silly poem… something like:

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.

Oh heck, who am I kidding?? I love to write nonsense. Please erase item q7$.

But seriously folk, invariably someone will ask me if I have any New Year’s resolutions. I’ve had the same resolution, yes, just one, for several years now: Try to do better.

So I will.

I sincerely hope 2023 brings all of you good fortune and good health. And if you can’t have those, I will keep you in my prayers. But hey, I was gonna do that anyway.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Kenny

Und now for ze video addition zings… und I haff no idea vie I am trying to write in a strange accent.

Here’s one for my friend Kurt… hope all of you will like it too.