Random Silly Textings

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Hello my friends. I must confess that it’s rather difficult for me to watch the news these days. So rather than exponkulate (which is not a word) on the terrible sloshing noises of icky events and behaviors; I’ve decided to inject some random silliness into this week’s Happy Friday!!! thingy bopper.

So what follows is not something I just invented with my brain thing. No! These are reprints of very silly notes I actually sent to work friends via instant messaging office-type electronic hello.

Yes.

You see, I retired from the rather high-stress world of IT, where computers were both our livelihood but also the bane of our existence. To lighten up the mood, I’d send random notes to my friends. Then one day someone told me, “I hope you are saving these, they’d make a great book some day.” Well, I don’t know about that, but after looking over them again I did give myself some smiles. Is that the mark of a sick mind??

I hope not!

Anyway, after my friend told me about saving my silly notes, well by golly that’s just what I started doing. I made a text file and would add to it as I went along, and before I retired I sent them to my home e-mail. And now I’d like to share some of them with you. I gave each note a little title, That I Will Put In Bold, which didn’t appear to my friends… only the text that followed. OK, enough introduction, here goes the sharing.

Weather Have you seen the weather lately??  What are these tiny white flakes falling from the sky??  Little tiny airborne ice crystals!!! Kinda pretty… I’d love to snow what they’re really called.

Nozzles I’ve installed Nostril Nozzles to increase my snorking efficiency.  Hopefully this will enhance my ability to sort snot snorkenwibbles.

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

Enjoyments Many of my enjoyments have wriggled right out of Mars and other parts of the Aurora Borealis.  I hope my cat learns to speak German soon.

Mizzlepop Some of the best Yo Vonkeny can be found under the Mizzlepop Trees.

Acorns I’d like to know who planted the acorns in my knees. Now that they’ve sprouted, people are starting to talk… I hear whispers of a new nickname:  “Oak Knees.”

Chowder 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.

Science In the interest of Science, I will be formulating experiments involving TV viewing habits of small reptiles.  Also, I hope to learn whether they can smell their favorite color of the alphabet.  Feel free to send large cash donations in support of these efforts. 

Thank you.

Turkeys I’ve been trying to get the neighborhood turkeys to speak English, but when I talk to them their replies are unintelligible. All I hear from them is “Garble!!  Garble!!  Garble!!”

Foods During my retirement I’ll be inventing foods like Peanut Butter & Garlic Sandwiches (PBGS), and perhaps Eggs On The Half Shell (EOTHS).  Then I’ll invite all my friends over for a snack and we’ll wash it down with Banana Peel Surprise (BPS).

Fuzz I don’t understand all this purple fuzz growing out of my molars.  I’ve tried to style it with a small comb, but it gets messed up every time I eat.

Dust 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. “Well just go and put it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

And finally…

Muffins Clang! Clang!  Clang! go the muffins as they are squeezed by the opening door.  Feathers slam to the ground with a loud thud.  My ears are filled with taco sauce!!  These are some ways Happy Friday can be enjoyed.

So there you go. Now you have seen some of the random thoughts that fell out of my brain thing while I was being exceedingly productive at work.

And now how about some old fashioned nonsense from my favorite silly but long gone favorites.

Please Pass The Cholesterol

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Superbowl Sunday looms over the horizon. Seems like just a year ago I was ignoring it just as much as I pretty much always have! Let’s see now… who’s playing anyway? The New York Mets and the Toronto Maple Leafs I think maybe. I sincerely hope the Mets win this year. I don’t believe they’ve ever taken a Superbowl in the entire history of their existence! So they are way overdue, don’t you think? I will maybe even watch some of the game. Looking forward especially to the halftime show when I’m hoping The Who will do their sing along with Elmer Fudd. Oh, and if I accidentally catch some of those wonderful commercials that would be OK too.

Anyway…

I’ll have to admit that I have attended one or two Superbowl parties in the past. Nothing like a nice spread of goodies and drinkings to help me make my belly and hiney the same shape: ROUND. Don’t get me wrong, I love the chips and dip, nachos, wings, fancy meat balls, and stuffed jalapeno peppers to make a night complete. I love all that stuff. Haven’t been to such a party in many years, but my hiney and my belly have not lost their shape for some strange reason.

Maybe I should quit with the 14 bowls of ice cream I’ve been having for breakfast every morning. That shouldn’t be so bad, should it?? Oh yes, I do enjoy fried chicken covered with chocolate syrup just before bed. And not to forget the double roasted French fries with extra extra butter sauce. Wash it all down with a pint of heavy cream just to make sure it doesn’t get stuck on the way down.

This is a recipe for success!!

Well OK, I may have been exaggerating just a little bit. I’m actually eating quite a bit better than, say, during the holidays; but all eat and no play makes Ken a fat boy. I am not interested in taking medication for the cholesterol. I know I can beat this… I just need to do a few simple things like run 18 miles each evening and restrict my daily food intake to a nice 1/2 ounce serving of celery chased with 33 gallons of water. Maybe my friends will let me sniff their snacks once in a while.

Aside from my efforts to stay clear of all things fattening, I definitely will be tuned in to at least a portion of the Superbowl this Sunday. That’s because after the Mets play a few innings against the LA Lakers, there will be some kind of halftime show that might even be entertaining. Hopefully they’ll have someone of my generation performing. Will it be The Who with Elmer Fudd or someone like Ringo McCartney or maybe even Eric Crampton?? I just don’t know!

If you pass my house during the game, don’t worry about all the hooting and hollering. It will just be me getting all excited while I shout “LET’S GO METS!!” at the TV. Sometimes I get rather worked up and my tray of garlic flavored marshmallows gets knocked over. Then when I stoop to pick up the mess, the cat starts making off with my chocolate covered sardines. I wouldn’t mind so much really, but just last night both my kitties got into my deep fried mashed potatoes with that delicious bacon fat gravy. Gotta watch those kids, ya know??

Well friends, I hope you all enjoy the game and have a safe and enjoyable Superbowl Sunday. And if you have cats or other animals, guard your snacks!!

So… ever what the guys on the field are really saying during a pro-football game?? Well watch this video and you still won’t know!! But it might make you laugh…

The NFL blocks it here, but click on this and you can watch–> Funny NFL Bad Lip Reading

Just Mind Your Manners

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So much sadness in the news these days. I mean, too many people are just being way too naughty! And then, some really naughty people are pointing fingers at those who were thought not to be so naughty but in fact admit to having been naughty; yet the naughtier people who deny their naughtiness seem obsessed with pointing their fingers at those who admit they’ve been naughty; and the naughtiest, finger-pointing folks seem completely clueless that if they insist on pointing fingers, well guess what… they’re gonna get pointed at all the more and probably cause complete disregard for proper paragraph construction and maybe even a pretty long run-on sentence!!

So there!!

I gotta ask… doesn’t anyone think before they act, or even speak?? Is the number of kind people in this world dwindling at an alarming rate? Are there any folks who care at least as much about others as they do themselves? Doesn’t anyone have manners anymore??

Sheesh!!

I’ll have to say, though, that lately the news has brought many people out from hiding who finally feel comfortable enough to stand up and say, “This is enough!!” Women have been treated terribly for millennia. Cultural intolerance has caused too many wars. Industry has sweetened existence for much of the human world but this too often came through harsh exploitation of less fortunate humans and of course Mother Nature.

Well, I may be a weirdo (no need to chime in on that…) but I think that yes, there still are many, MANY people who follow the Golden Rule much of the time. Maybe even most of the time. It’s very simple, yet complex: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” I had that one drilled into my noggin in Sunday School. Well guess what? Muslims have a very similar version; and although I’m too lazy to research it I’m willing to bet that many other cultures do too. I’m convinced the reason we don’t hear much in the news about folks who live by the Golden Rule is that: a) they are probably us (you and me), and 12) the media reports primarily about the garbage because that is what sells.

Sad, huh?

Well, not completely sad. I still cling to the belief that we’re going to be alright. Yes, there’s lots of bad news; and unfortunately we need to hear it. Otherwise we wouldn’t feel a need to change. It may take some time, but the conversation is changing, and I think for the greater good. For example, one hot talking point that’s still quite current is that sexual harassment is never OK. And another that’s at least as important: our planet is being ruined by our human habits, but we can work together to change these habits.

Some of the discussions may be difficult. We all have a voice, we all deserve to be heard; but it’s also our obligation to listen. Even if it’s hate speech. We must stamp out hatred, and sometimes we may have to be firm. But again, we can be firm but still treat others with respect. Heated shouting matches are about as effective as fighting fire with fire. A dear friend of mine used to say, “We can disagree without being disagreeable.” It seems all too easy for folks to bark at each other; takes much more effort to stay calm and do our best to find solutions.

All we need to do is listen to Mom: “Just mind your manners!!” Anyone besides me hear that when you were growing up?

Anyway, I went hunting for a video about manners… but a friend of mine posted this on my timeline recently and I think it says it very nicely.

No Sense, No Feelin’

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I try hard to avoid politics with my blog thing but sometimes the news screeches at me and I feel obliged to speak up a bit. Today’s political hoopla gives me deep sadness… I’m still not finding any sense in it all. Billions of dollars were spent during last year’s political campaigns… that money could have done quite a bit of good for some of our less fortunate citizens. The ultra-rich are far too common in our political machines; and I don’t know about you but that troubles me greatly.

I’m beginning to feel numb inside… but I’m not going to allow that to fester. None of this makes sense to me; but then again all of it does. My Mother used to jokingly say “No sense, no feelin’ “ if one of us fell down but didn’t react much from the pain. Well much of the politics these days makes no sense. But for the no feelin’ part… well… as you may have guessed this post is not gonna be a very Happy Friday.

One of my favorite analogies to describe Our Creator came to me years ago in the form of an anonymous quote: “Nature is God’s reflection.” I take that to mean everything from what we can’t see with a microscope to all that is too distant to see with even the most elaborate telescopes. Then it was pointed out to me that we are all part of that reflection. So all of us deserve to be respected and treated kindly; regardless of our political leanings.

I’ll make this rant short and sweet: I believe it’s our duty as free citizens for EVERYONE to please pay close attention to what’s going on and be ready to speak out loudly and repetitively when our values start getting dragged into the swampy muck. We all need to speak up for equality and decency, and speak OUT against hatred and division. We all need to be kind and take care of each other.

Some of us remember a similar time; and we had songs, many of which are still being sung today, to remind us.

Gonna be a long four years. Long Time Gone…

Who Cares About Whom?

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There are times when Happy Friday!!! jumps out of my fingers and into the keyboard; and there are other timings when my fingers not have word jump out. It’s almost as if they are fighting for something to breathe in a sea of oxygenated bread molecules that have never seen the blight of clay. In other words, they’re are sum thymes when I gist can’t stick an idea on the end of my nose thing and launch it into a narrative of weekly infestation.

Four egg sample:  my day started with some sadness about the loss of a friend; and this of course brought more sadness about the loss of my Beautiful Girlfriend on May 30 of last year. I’ve been a bit mooshy all day. My friend’s funeral was at the same place where I laid my Honey Pie’s “barbecue quilt” over her body to prepare for cremation just short of 8 months ago. To top it off, the same funeral director who took care of my Lovely Bride was also officiating at my friend’s ceremony. Consequently, my creative well was completely dry when I sat down to write this evening; Therefore, I knew I’d probably better dig up something out of the archives, massage it a little, and present it to your eyeballs to enjoy; hopefully without greatly flammable pencil warts.  Yes friends, there are times when I look back at the Holy Cow I Have A Lot Of Stories (HCIHALOS) and “recycle” one; so tonight I cheated and dug up one from 4 years before the day we’re having now.

So to continue with the “I have no eye deer what to write” crackle sauce:  when trying to discover a topic or idea for a Happy Friday!!! thing, sometimes a friend will tell me something that jars my cookies like no other fried banana milkshake could ever induce a nice warm cranberry casserole with fuzzy coconut thimbles mounted atop a psychedelically decorated Mambo Contest. This is a moment of inspiration from which I become most eviscerated with a nice piece of antimony topped with a small dollop of crème brulee.

Therefore in the spirit of my Grandma who never gave me any Grammar lessons, I hereby renounce this run-on introductory somnambulism; which was precipitated in a conservation in witch, once upon a time, several years ago, in a land very near to my home, while riding in an automobile very near to my hiney, in a smell phone very near to my ear, and while I was still working and therefore not yet retired, my dear friend Dave Gordon, whose first name and last name are really both First Names; this Dave Guy he said unto me, “I think you should write something about whom. You know, like everybody says ‘who do you love,’ when it really should be ‘whom do you love?’ “

“So!” I said to myself while listening to this Grampa talk Grammar; “So now I must look this up, as I am ashamed to admit that although I try to indemnify my audible colonoscopy with good usage; there are times when I fall short, much like many U.S. citizens who seam to have difficulty with both spelling; usage; punctuation!, and the correct contextual use of the word “both.”

Its time’s like these when a much younger me would get all bent out of shape when a person would use an apostrophe to write plural’s rather than showing possession and / or when used in a contraction. Of course, many women who have given birth would probably rather not remember the contractions. However, this is no excuse to vary from the rules of Grammar (which need not be capitalized unless it is used to begin a sentence), or Grandma either for that matter. Ignorance of the Grammar (yes I know, I capitalized it again) rules may sabotage your chances of getting a job, while disobedience of Grandma rules may sabotage your chances of getting more cookies. Nay, I say unto you, I no longer flatulate over the lack of knowledge of “proper English grammar.” I do shake my head at times when I see it on billboards or in sentences written by college students; but it is not for me to judge. Mine is but to sing songs loudly and belch boastfully when my belly is full of delicious rock salt pudding.

Our son once pointed out a well documented fact that “who” was a word that was invented by owls. That of course is obvious to anyone who may have listened to owls asking that question over and over and over and over again. We may not know to whom they are posing this age-old question. That does not matter; because, of course, they know. And since they only use “who,” and never have I heard them use “whom;” well that just illustrates to me that they understand (and probably invented) the following rules that I just stole from www.grammarly.com:

“Who and whom are both pronouns. Who is a subject pronoun (like I, he, she, we, and they), whereas whom is an object pronoun (like me, him, her, us, and them). Try this simple trick when in doubt: If you can replace the word with he or she, use who. If you can replace it with him or her, use whom. ”

OK… so let’s have some “reverse fun” with that rule and substitute bass-ackwardly:

“Who are you?” could be switched to “He (or she) are you?” and…

“Whom do you love?” could be noogled to “Her (or him) do you love?” and perhaps one of my brand new, just now favorites…

“To whom it may concern,” could be flinkled to “To him (or her) it may concern,”

So in the case of a preposition like “to,” then whom is to be used, and please, try to remember that a preposition is a word one should never end a sentence with. You may wonder why anyone would object to such usage, but the object is missing so don’t go there with me you silly baroopy noise making person you!!

Oh I could go on and on with this, don’tcha know. None of those examples in the “reverse fun” substitution calamity are correct usage, but guess what? I don’t care!! Ha ha!! I laugh to this!! I am now chortling! Chortle chortle!! Guffaw guffaw!! Or if Popeye were laughing, “OCK ock ock ock ock ock!!” Weird laugh…

Anyway, although I used to be very persnickety about such things, I try hard not to snip and gribble about someone’s grammar, nor their Grandma. One thing I’ve learned during my sojourn in this plane of sentience is, to quote Ebenezer in my favorite Scrooge movie, “I don’t know anything. I never did know anything. But now I know I don’t know anything.”

Sew their.

And now (just like last week) for something completely different …

I’m Leaving

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Dear Friends,

I know you may have become weary of seeing my face so I’m not going to change it at all for you. No, instead I’m moving to Zootflaven and I will change my name to Bremply Doatlekonk. Ha ha on youse kids, so there!! On the Bookface I announced that I was going to change my name to Milksnort Fogwaffle, but that was at least two hours ago, so of course it’s ancient history.

If you’ve never been to Zootflaven, don’t come crying to me. I never told you to come along during my last vacation there; because I didn’t want to share any of those tasty poshtangles or the delightfully disgusting hock-pitooey drinks. Sure, I’ve made both of those at home but the mess incurred during preparation is genuinely disguised as a small rodent burping through a keyhole.

Is this the part where we all sing the “Cuckoo Cranberry” song? Well try to keep up, but I will give you the words…

Cuckoo Cranberry, lying in the street.

Please don’t expect it to taste like meat.

Its face was squished by that big fat bus.

And nobody yelled or tried to warn us.

Oh Cuckoo Cranberry, where did you go?

If he hollers let him go, eeny meeny miny moe.

This of course is sung to the tune of “Cuckoo Cranberry Ate A Whistle.” Please do not confuse this with the award winning song, “Cuckoo Clock Rock.”

Did you know that crayons were invented?? Those things are all over the place!! I’ve even seen them in restaurants, but not for eating. What I mean is, I don’t eat the crayons anymore, nor to I try to use them for eating anything. I have been scolded and told that this is bad manners. However, I do have fond memories of peeling them and “accidentally” dropping them into the radiators at Sunday school. They become very colorfully liquified… eventually. As an added bonus, they give a pleasant colored melted wax scent to the atmosphere.

Perhaps, just perhaps, I should not have put those two bottles of cough syrup on my cereal this morning. My cats gave me funny looks when I took all the pictures to post on InstaBook. Whoa… maybe I should have dumped the contents of those two bottles into the bowl of cereal!! Cool idea… probably would have been more photogenic than just the unopened bottles. All those Loopy Frootles floating in purple syrup… maybe place it on a turntable and take a 12 minute video.

Farm out, man!! Right arm!! Solid state!! Groovy gravy!!

OK… now you know my intentions for the next several solstice arrivals. If you’d like to come visit me in Zateflooven; please visit your ambidextrous orthodontist for a seldom opinion. Just walk up to the reception area and ask for me by my new name, Broatly Konkledemp. I will be the one erupting in boisterous laughter as I make all the pens and pads of paper appear to float in the air; for you see by then I will have learned to make myself invisible.

In the meantime, please remember what Hyram C. Gilmore has said for years:

“It’s better to be you than for you to be me, and although you can count to it, eight is a word.”

Insincerely yours,

Krempledoat Bonkely

“And now,” as Mr. Cleese would have said, “for something completely different.”

A Very Merry Malapropism To You!

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A very merry who’s a what now?? Yes, that’s right, A Very Merry Malapropism To You. Some of you might wonder, “What the heck-a-ma-lookey is a malapropism??” Or perhaps not!! Well according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, a malapropism (pronounced mal-uh-PROPE-ism) is:

The usually unintentionally humorous misuse or distortion of a word or phrase

especially : the use of a word sounding somewhat like the one intended but ludicrously wrong in the context.

What can I say, I love to play with English. It often makes my whole self laugh at myself. And that can be a very good thing. My professional opinion is this: there is so much ickety boo in the world, we need to take a break and laugh a bit once in awhile. I’ve learned long ago not to do this at anyone else’s expense, no matter how much I would like to (yes, I’m human…).

So one of my favorite ways to play with English is to inject malapropisms into my speech or writing. For example, my son came over for dinner yesterday. I was hoping to find a DiGiorno’s supreme pizza at the store but for some reason they weren’t in stock. So, I settled for a rising crust plaza with sausage and pepperonly. As you can see, I not only misuse words, but I misuse the eye deer of pudding two words to gather even when they don’t belong.

Because it’s fun.

Hope everyone had simply marvelous holly day season. We enjoyed a very nice time with just our intermediate family… my daughter and son-in-law, two grandsons, my son and me. The six of us traveled to Florida in separate cars together (son and I rode together). It was rather weird having Christmas with out the Mom of the family (my Beautiful Honey Pie); so my daughter thought a trip to Florida would be a good disk traction.

No add traction stuff for us this time. No Disney World (makes me barf), no See World (yuck), no Universal theme park (did that last year). Nope. Instead, we went to St. Augustine to see the very old Spanish fart with very old canyons and we got in for free because I’m a veteran and I never knew that all veterans can get a lifetime free pass to ALL national parks and they didn’t charge ANY of us for admission; witch, in my professional opinion was, like totally cool and hey, there’s my first run-on sentence of the year so I hope that helps you smile just a little bit.

Then we went to Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum. That was very enjoyable, egg specially since my Lovely Wife and I went there with our two kids when they were much younger peep pull. Lastly we went to a medieval torcher museum which caused me to be very sad in my heart (seriously) because of the audio guide which described in detail how all the terrible things are used. I went into the rooms ahead of the gang so I could quickly be reminded of how horrible people can be to each other, but I waited outside while they went in and listened to the audio guide.

Ouch!! Yuck!! Ptoo!!!!

Awl in awl, we had a very nice trip, in spite of the crazy drivers who zipped in and out of traffic as if they owned the hole road. I found myself wishing they would fall into a hole in the road, but I wouldn’t really wish anyone to be harmed so I guess they should knot really fall into a whole. Butt they sure do drive like may knee acts. Those are the lunar tunes who cause accidents, ya know what I’m saying??

Sew now I’m home, and there are so many things to do. It’s probably gonna take me some time to play ketchup; butt that’s OK… since I’ve bean retired I try hard not to put too much pretzel on myself. I mean really, who kneads the stretch of shelf imposed deadlines? Those can be way too stretchable for me; and one thing I don’t need is more stench. No… I prefer a calm existence and make it a point to enjoy each moment. There are times when I try to quiet my mind through transcontinental medication, but too often I get random thoughts that distract me from calming my nerds ineffectively.

Anyway, hope all of you are having a very nice 2025. So far so good for me. Perhaps one day I’ll develop a style of writing that doesn’t involve frivolously misused words (or even made up words).

Ummm… no. I don’t think so.

Well, this guy never did much with word mangling, but he always made me laugh.

My New Year’s Revelations For 2025

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Can someone please tell me what happened to 2024? Seems like it should still be with us. I mean heck, it was Thanksgiving just a couple weeks ago. Now it’s gonna be a whole New Year!! Lots of people will be making very merry on New Year’s Eve, and many will also make promises in the form of resolutions to (hopefully) do some things a little better. Actually, that’s exactly what my New Year’s resolution has been for many moons now.   I just keep it simple: Try to do better.

Maybe you noticed that the title of this week’s Happy Friday!!! mentions revelations, not resolutions. Well that’s because I like to have fun with this writing stuff; so if you are not interested in such silliness please run to your nearest widescreen TV and watch a few thousand cat food commercials while I plunk the keyboard and write what will likely be my very last run-on sentence for this year; although it will certainly NOT be the very last one I will write, because my friend Dave likes them and also my friend Kathleen and maybe others; and although my punctuation may be questionable I really don’t give a royal SnickerlyDoodle about it.

So there.

OK. Now I am making with the New Year’s Revelations. My intent is to take some time tested sayings and offer shiny and productive ways that you may or may not find useful in your own lives. There are many such sayings that seem to have been with us for eternity, but that can’t be possible because we are still here. Anyway, here are some that come to mind and my reactions to their bronchial indigestion.

1) A stitch in time saves nine.

This makes no sense to me. Maybe it’s because my limited experience with stitching is in the form of an emergency repair on a pair of britches, or perhaps replacing a button. Ever bend over to pick up a penny and hear a nasty rrrRRRIIIPPPPP!! ?? It’s rather embarrassing. Especially if you have to traipse about looking for someone who has a sewing kit. Then once you’ve found that person, you have to be careful how you enter / exit the room so they don’t get frightened that your undies (or God forbid, your hiney!!) are hanging out. No, for me, a stitch in time is merely a stitch in time.

2) A penny saved is a penny earned.

Well that’s a nice thought. Remember that penny I bent over to pick up and my pants ripped open?? There was a cost of more than a penny to find someone with a sewing kit for cryin’ out loud. Well OK, there was no actual cost of money; but there was a price to be paid for the embarrassment of it all. And ya know, when I toss pennies into the change bucket at home, I don’t think I’m really earning anything. I’m just emptying my pockets. Besides, all my social security and pension pennies are direct deposit, so there are no actual, physical pennies when I put stuff in the saving and / or checking account.

L) He who hesitates is lost.

Now there’s one I can relate to!! Remember that one time when we were coming back from Canada and you weren’t even there but I’ll tell you anyway?? Yes! Several moons ago, my Beautiful Girlfriend and I had just crossed the border and entered Port Huron. Mind you, on the way to Canada we had no problem. But on the way from Canada, I got a little bit kerfuffled. There I was, minding my own business, watching the signs and forgetting the exact route, and then (uh oh, I can smell another run-on sentence), and thinking to my self, “Hey Self, I think you missed your exit,” but my Beautiful Girlfriend and I were chatting and I was wondering and pretty soon we’re on I-75 going south and WHY THE HECK DOES IT SAY WE’RE ON THE WAY TO DETROIT WHEN WE LIVE IN MUSKEGON??

I’ll tell you why, I hesitated!! And then we got lost!! Well, OK not completely lost. I mean, if you’re in Michigan and you go too far south you hit either Ohio or Indiana. Too far north and you hit the Mackinac Bridge. Too far west and you’re on the shores of Lake Michigan. So we weren’t lost, just… ummm… on an adventure. Thankfully I keep some prehistoric road atlases in my car for just such an occasion. Remember road atlases? You know, printed maps? In a book?? Yes, I still have those. And thankfully the car has a compass so we were able to navigate. And yes, I have a smell phone but hey, I like to use actual maps, alright??? But our adventure yielded a big plus: we stumbled upon Crockett’s Country Cafe in Columbus, Michigan (never even knew there was a Columbus in Michigan) and had some very nice bison dinners with more than enough to have leftovers for the following day. We hesitated, we got lost, we ate well, we went home. Not such a terrible thing.

To finish up, I’ll include one of the most time-honored sayings that may have helped you or perhaps someone you know avert conflict between friends and loved ones:

9r) You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.

Can’t argue with that!! Another variation of that is: you can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can’t wipe your friends off on the sofa.

I can honestly say I’ve never thought that picking someone else’s nose is a good idea.  And wiping them off on the sofa??  Hey, what you do in the privacy of your own home is your business.  Well, OK I have to retract that statement about not picking someone else’s nose; only because I’ve helped my Lovely Girlfriend to raise two kids. I’m sorry, but my professional opinion is that anyone who has kids but hasn’t dealt with kid boogers has never really been a parent. And of course now we have grandkids, but both of them are getting very adept at nostril maintenance.

Well that’s probably enough for now. Please, all of you who read this, PLEASE have a blessed New Year in 2025. Don’t know about you, but I have much for which to be grateful. If I can keep that foremost in my mind, life goes along pretty well.

Thank you and Happy Friday!!!

Hope you have a safe and enjoyable New Year’s… there’s a party goin’ on at Grampy’s house if you don’t have any prior engagements…

Jingle All Night Long

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Note: this story was pulled out of the archives during a time when I was still working. However, all too many of the premises in the story still hold true for me today…

Santa Claus is coming already! I suppose you folks all have your shopping done, right? Well, not me. I always wait till the last minute. It’s kind of a ritual, I guess. There may come a time when I quit procrastinating, perhaps tomorrow or the next day. But until then, look for me at the all night department store, right into the wee hours of Christmas Eve.

Wonderful rationalizations get cooked up in a part of my brain (which I lovingly refer to as the “lazy cortex”) around this time of year. First of all, I figure the number of other shoppers in the middle of the night is way down; and that’s the way I like it. Therefore, I tell myself, it’s best for me to shop later at night.  Secondly, since I’m always living from paycheck to paycheck anyway, the last check of the year is the logical choice for holiday shopping. Sure, I suppose I could squirrel away a few dollars here and there to prepare for the holiday season. However, that would require something terrible of me: discipline and planning. Those two concepts just scare me to death!

Once upon a time, I did do a little shopping for my Beautiful Honey Pie while on a business trip to Pennsylvania a few years ago. Because of a tight schedule and absolutely NO CLUE where to go, I asked Siri The Nice iPhone Lady where the nearest shopping was. She directed me to Promenade Place; which appears to be where all the rich people go. Although I’m blessed in millions of ways, I’m not independently wealthy. But I ventured into a jewelry store with hope of finding a nice pair of earrings for my sweetie. I knew I was in trouble when none of the items in the fancy glass cases had prices on them. Then I found what seemed to be a reasonably priced pair of turquoise earrings. The nice man said, “Those are 4-0-5.” And he didn’t mean 4 dollars and 5 cents. I thanked him for his time and hit a two other stores called Francesca’s and Charming Charlie’s. Between the two of those I found about 6 pairs of nice earrings that fell well into my price range.

I had grandiose plans of stashing some of the jewelry for Christmas; but the rule when I traveled on business is that I was to “bring back a surprise.” Even though I was only gone for a couple days I missed my Baby so much that I ended up giving her all the loot in one shot. That, of course, meant I had to go on the hunt again; with Christmas drawing ever nearer.

My wife just shook her head and laughed at me, bless her soul. And that year, with the economy “in recovery,” the stores are enabling my last minute mania.  Stuff just kept going down in price!  It was amazing!!  Of course you have to be willing to wade through hordes of other procrastinators.  And unfortunately, some of them are getting rather ornery.   I was in Meijer the other day (our local everything store, for those of you who don’t know Michigan), and it was a complete madhouse.  People packed and zooming all about.  After I finally arrived at the cashier, I joked with her, “Well you must be completely bored today, what with it being so slow and all.”  She smiled and related how nice it was to have the time whiz along.  “So, at least folks are in a good mood,” I added.  “Nooo,” she said in a low tone, “people are nasty.  Getting mad ‘cuz nothing’s in stock, or it costs more than they think it should.”

Like the cashier has any control over such things.  Unfortunately, our wonderfully materialist world has all too many folks convinced that Christmas is all about the presents, instead of the peace on Earth and all that stuff.  Couple that with the pressure of uncertainty in the job market… heck, uncertainty in the world, and people get a bit antsy.  Then add a little “holy cow it’s only 4 days before Christmas and look at all I gotta do,”  and some folks get downright nasty.  All that lovely Christmas spirit gets converted into scowls and hustle-bustle.

I don’t get ornery… I’ve just pretty much accepted the fact that my Santa mode doesn’t kick in very early in the season.  In other words, one thing about my holiday shopping is pretty predictable: I’ll be running through all the stores with my just-before-Christmas-paycheck like a head with my chicken cut off (or something). By the time I reach the last checkout, I’ll be too exhausted even to balk at those crazy tabloid headlines.  Something like, “120 YEAR OLD WOMAN CLAIMS TO BE TRUMP’S TWIN SISTER,” would usually prompt me to snicker or chuckle. By then, it will just be a cold stare, and robotic “hmmm.”

I’ll fumble for the credit card, cram the receipt in my wallet, drag all the stuff to the car, and it’s home again, home again, jiggety-jog. On the way home, I love to tune the AM dial and look for that distant station playing Dickens’ “Christmas Carol.”  Maybe sing some carols while it fades out.

The approach to the homestead involves a little Santa trick. I kill the engine, coast into the driveway, sneak inside with the goodies, and hide somewhere to make lots of crinkly noises with wrapping paper until 4 a.m. Finally, I’ll stash the loot under the tree, and flop into bed; vowing to start at least two days earlier next year.

Or not.

Maybe if I learned a few things from Grampy, all the Christmas presents could be built right at home!!

To My Friends Of Whom I Have No Intrusion

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Dear Mandible Jigglers,

Good afternoon, ladies and germs. I’ve been thinking of what a horrible time I had getting to this point in my life, but then my legs fell off when I climbed down the drain to rescue the noodles which were trying to escape my chewing machine. I know I am a lazy green tomato shaver, but every time I have an urge to yell “No Twinkies for YOU!” at Brobe, the local shredded wheat policeman person, a large and ugly nail collector jumps on my belly like a trampoline.

Now as you all well know, I have been impersonating a sofa for many years. New people have been looking under me for the long lost Legos, but when they lift me up I jingle too loudly so they cry for assistance. Fortunately, I wear a red raspberry raincoat to protect me from the flying squid. Those things make me really scared. Have you ever seen an angry squid show its wings? Ooooo, they don’t have any. But if they did it wouldn’t be my fault. I was never there and you can’t prove anything I say is real or smelly.

Oh, I forgot to tell you that smartphones are all programmed to barf large amounts of blue slimy cake-waste on the 29th of August. Don’t pay any attention to that man behind the curtain! Can anyone hear me? I made jelly with lint yesterday, and it’s difficult to play the harmonica now. In fact, I think I put too much duck breath in the pie today. I have been a mess like this lately, and it’s probably due to the large pile of rotten tongue depressors I found in the middle of the road. I mean, you can tell that the trees are just happy to be here. They’ve been singing those same stupid tree songs ever since I can remember. Then they wrap dirt in fancy paper and present it to each other during that “Dumb Dirt Festival” they have everyday on the Breadhouse lawn.

Ah yes. The Beautiful Breadhouse. The only thing wrong with such a house is that it’s really a mess when it rains. Mold comes and they have to get out the lawn molders to chop it down to less than knee-high by the fourth of July. But the stupid trees keep going to the bread store to build a new house; then they have nightmares about french toast and butter knives. I tried to convince them to use Elmer’s glue and rice, but they sniggled at that idea. Now look at them, they can’t get a job and they won’t eat their house. I just don’t know. I could mail them some weeds! But then I would be getting close to another paragraph page, and I don’t think I can talk about this kind of thing for more than eleven sixty two.

So there, I have bared my soul to you. You are now fully aware that I am not the guy you have come to know, I am merely a small piece of the space shuttle looking for a nice garage sale. Can you please guide me to the nearest litter box? I have something special in mind for the creeps who turned my car into a hammer handle.

Well, my dearest friends, I can’t for the life of me remember your names. But if we ever meet again, please give me a lot of money. I know that’s a big request from a

stranger, but you know as well as I do that the best things in life are free… So give me your money darn it!!! Do you really want to trap your soulds in useless material possessions?? Give me all you have and let me bear the burden for you!

I promise I won’t sell your most beloved things until I get around the corner. If your pets are selling watches on the street, what business is it of yours? They can’t work at McDonald’s all my life. I mean hey, we gotta get something from somewhere and find out what the heck it is! Otherwise, we won’t know what we have, and then we’ll be at the end of this letter! And it’s about doggoned time!!

Sing loudly and bark at the bugs!

Insincerely yours,

Hembert “Crinkles” Wopplecracker

a.k.a. Your Favorite Life Coach

And now for something completely different…