Subscription Addiction?

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I’m such a cheapskate. No daily newspaper, no cable TV, no super fast internet.

Say What??

Yep. As I told you, I’m a cheapskate. Well sometimes. My beautiful girlfriend and I are in complete agreement about the newspaper and cable TV. We used to get the paper every day, but it became a recycling headache. Maybe it would be worth the effort if we actually read the thing often, but we just didn’t. So the papers piled up and we kept paying for the delivery person to bring more. Now, we get a little Podunk paper by the name of The White Lake Beacon. Comes out once a week and even has comics!! MUCH cheaper too…

Then, way back in about 1992 or so; our family’s TV time dropped to a bare minimum. You see, that was when our daughter decided to slack off on homework. She started flunking math, but it was all our fault really. We would have the TV on when the kids got home from school; and it became a pretty important diversion. But when the school grades began to slide into the sewer; we tried rationing TV. We’d say really wise things like, “no TV till your homework’s done!!” That gave both of our wonderful offspring remarkable energy, and they’d whoosh through whatever homework they had so they could catch their favorite shows. Of course, the result was substandard schoolwork. Better, but still pretty lousy. Mind you, this was without a cable subscription. Anyway, we ended up doing THE UNTHINKABLE!! We laid down the law:

No TV from Monday through Thursday; unless there is some special event or a program that constitutes required viewing for school.  Video games are considered TV time.  Friday night and Saturdays are free time, Sunday TV depends on the amount of homework.

Needless to say, when we first uttered these bone-chilling rules the kids were mortified. “Will you tape our shows???” they pouted. Remember tape?? “OK,” we conceded, “but only if you promise to bring the grades up.” So they did. And after about a month, they quit caring about what was on TV. And even more ridiculous, they started reading for fun. Holy cow!! Now, don’t get me wrong, I like veging (how does one spell “veging” anyway?) in front of the tube and I do have favorite shows. But Mom and I both have addictive natures, and we are very much aware that if we actually paid for TV we would feel the need to watch more.

Fast forward to 2004, when Aunt Joyce came to live with us. She got us hooked on NCIS and CSI, and we still love those to this day.  The only cable in our “cable TV” is the one that comes into the house from the antenna. My Honey Pie and I have always agreed that TV should be free, like the radio.  Times have changed since 1992 of course, so I have to admit, we do pay for internet now (oh wait, that make 2 cables), and subscribe to Netflix and Paramount Plus.  Netflix is the result of a “free trial” that came into our house when my Sweet Bride was laid up due to knee replacement surgery.  Paramount Plus was brought in because we can still watch channel 3 (CBS, where NCIS lives) if the antenna can’t grab it.

But we keep our TV spending pretty low if I must say so myself.  Let’s cipher a minute:

$30.00 for internet
$ 9.99 for Netflix
$10.00 donated to Public Television (a worthy cause and extra PBS stuff on the interwebs!)
$ 5.00 for Paramount Plus

$54.99 total monthly bill for TV stuff.  Not too bad, yes?

As I listen to more and more folks talk about shows I’ll probably never watch and apps I’ll probably never have, I’m seeing what appears to be a growing subscription addiction in our culture. More and more people are paying for more and more internet and TV stuff. It’s getting to the point where there’s really no need to go outside anymore with all the junk you can watch or all the interactive gaming you can do.  I also saw a report a while ago (on TV of course) that more and more Americans are suffering from vitamin D deficiency. So they’re rattling off all the ways you can get more vitamin D in your diet. Well guess what folks, back in the “old days,” meaning before the internet and cable TV, vitamin D was called “the sunshine vitamin.” In other words, your body actually makes vitamin D when you’re outside in the day time. Is that a weird idea or what?? Going outside I mean…

Guess I’m a dinosaur. I don’t need super fast internet.  I don’t need cable TV.  I still love the Beatles and The Three Stooges. We heat with firewood. We grow vegetables “organically;” which is now referred to as “regenerative farming,” I guess.  We do stuff with friends that does not involve electronic gadgets. And so far, I have not become so enmeshed in the habit of watching a screen that I have to worry about video-addictive behavior problems. Yes friends, I actually know how to go outside without my cell phone!!  Perhaps recovery groups will spring from the screen addiction trend… you know, places that are free of electronic devices where people can discuss their multimedia dependencies with others, and maybe even look each other in the eye while speaking and listening.

If I ever become one of those who is addicted to TV, etc., I hope I have the courage to change the things I can. I’ll go to my first meeting, clutch my cup of coffee, and say the magically freeing words:

“Hi, my name is Ken, and I’m a vidiot.”

So what am I gonna do now??  I’m gonna post a video for your enjoyment!   In the meantime, please take a minute sometime soon and actually talk to someone, OK?

Linguini On Parade

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Hello My Fellow Pastrami Crinklers,

This is to inform none of you that all new banana recipes should be turned in to the Front Sniffing Room before 12:47 p.m. on Tuesday, August 72, 19127. This is to ensure the cranial vibration machines will be well coagulated prior to sailing off to Monster Island.

None of you may remember “The Hatchling Song;” the words of which were “stolen” by Gus Parbnackle during the Second Coat Hanger Revolt of 1924.

This enjoyable malady has been renewed during the last 28 microseconds and is now sung to the tune of “Inna Gadda Da Vida”:

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

Some may proclaim, “hey, that looks like it should be sung to the tune of ‘Camptown Races!!’ ” Well of course those who find that line of dingle berries fuzzy and warm will never be successful at launching pickles with catapults. No, rather they will wander aimlessly over hill and dale; squandering what was left of my 2nd grade lunch money.

I’d like a refund yesterday or the year before if you please.

If you find it necessary to rekindle the spirit which is found to be both blue and wormy; please run directly to your neighbors and ask them to return the crescent wrench your uncle borrowed shortly before dinner last Wednesday morning. Perhaps they are unaware that even inanimate objects yearn for their homeland; which is exactly why we intend to bury all wrenches back into the iron mines from whence they originated.

In summary, I must remind you not to rub sandpaper inside your mucous membranes. Fortunately, that practice has been abandoned long ago due to the over abundance of spaghetti in water fountains made by Mattel. Additionally, please stop putting duct tape sticky side up on my favorite Loaf Toasting Chair. I’ve been mocked numerous times during my grocery store excursions that followed some nice Loaf Toasting Sessions. If you Are Willing to comply with My Duct Tape Restraint Request (DTRR); I’ll also Be Willing to Cease the Use of Grammatically incorrect CapiTalization (UGIC).

MayBe. If I fEel liKe it. OK MaybE noT.

(FOOP).

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

My toes look like morel mushrooms again!!

Happy Bozo Express,

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

Without any further ado, here be this week’s cartoon.  Gotta love Betty!!  This one’s from The Internet Archive, so the player’s a bit weird.  After opening, click on the arrows in the bottom right corner to view it full screen.   Below the cartoon is a link to a rather silly song sent to me by a friend… never heard this one before and it shows that Bob Dylan has a sense of humor.

A Snibbulous Rant

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Hello fellow peace loving creatures. Don’t know about you, but my week has been saturated with very crankular work challenges. It’s bad enough I didn’t win the lottery; mainly because I never played. But in addition to that hugely caripular disappointment; other things in my inside-the-house world have been bonking me in the noggin with large, monstrificous ouch hurtings. To quote some poet guy I never knew (nor ever quoted correctly):

Too much to do,

And not enough time,

Makes a man smelly,

Cranky and whine.

Please know, however, that I am very aware that not only was that a very bad (or perhaps nonexistent) rhyme; my woes are in all respects what me and my friends often call “high class problems.” In other words: I am a healthy young man, I have a nice home, a beautiful girlfriend (who actually let me marry her!!), we own cars that are paid off and actually work, we have plenty to eat, we have food in the garden we’re gonna eat later, and of course we have electricity that powers our stuff and lets us play musics and make coffee and other important foods and even sometimes we use our TV to watch important, spiritually uplifting programming like Saturday Night Live and NCIS, and we also have friends whom we love dearly, and in addition to all that, I have not used one single semi-colon in this run-on sentence and I’m not even sure that matters but holy cow this was a really long one; (oops, a semi-colon just crept in there) and the whole point of all this is:

If I keep a grateful heart

I’ll be much less likely to fart

On the surface of my blessings

Because I’m one lucky, lucky guy.

Yet another very bad rhyming thing there. I really am lucky you know. So why am I whining?? Because I’m human I guess. You see, our house is pretty much topsy-turvy right now. Topsy-turvy… now there’s an expression you don’t see every day, right? Please don’t confuse this with hunky-dory or especially pinkly-winkly, which may not even be a thing. What I’m trying to say that because of our high-class problems, our home is in great disarray.

Why, you may wonder, is this topsy-turvy disarray affecting our pinkly-winklies in such a painful manner? Well you see, it’s like this: we had the good fortune to spend some money on the innards of our house. Some very good painters came to do their thing, and that meant that we had to remove much furniture and bric-a-brac and even stuff we never knew we had from the room so they could work. And to add ink spots to ingenuity, we also decided to have new carpet installed. The result of these Spoiled American decisions was the “storage” of bookcases, shelving, electronic doohickeys, books, and all manner of possessions anywhere they could fit in other rooms. Walking through the resulting maze has become rather, um… interesting.

Then of course comes the “whatever pleases you my dear” conundrum. In other words, I’m a guy, OK? No, I really mean it. And my Beautiful Girlfriend is a woman. And because I’m a guy, my give-a-hoot about interior decorating is limited to the precise placement of stereo speakers. You know, important stuff. Well this Amazing Woman of mine has decided that this bookcase needs to go, and that armoire needs to have its head chopped off and reattached a few feet lower to accommodate a large screen TV to be mounted on the wall. So I get my saw and my hammer and drill thing and BLS (Big Long Screws) and commence to hacking and scraping and drilling and putting in the screws and OUCH my finger holy moly watch out for that sharpness oh crap I’m bleeding go get a Band Aid and back to work and what the HECK?? The stupid pull chain on the ceiling fan light bit the dust so now it’s the happy enjoyment of taking the thing apart to replace the switch and CAN I PLEASE GO HOME NOW I DON’T WANNA PLAY ANYMORE but oh wait, I’m already home but I’ll sure be glad when it’s all done and we can sit back and enjoy some leisure time of snarfing potato chips and drinking apple juice.

But guess what?? NONE of this stuff is a problem, really. We get to have our house painted and carpeted. We get to have too much stuff to move around. As I said before, we have a nice home with no bombs exploding or invaders invading. We are, in short, very, very grateful. Hope life is good at your house.

I think I’ll end this snibbulous rant with just one more poem, the theme of which has no bearing on any aforementioned anything, but it might make you smile:

Wally

Bring your friends to Wally’s house

Because he’s really Super Mouse.

He fell down twice and did not break,

And he can swallow half a lake.

He always eats his super cheese,

But now he’s getting Super Fleas.

The End

And now for some fun that also happens to be set to music.

Been There, Done That

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Hey, did you know that gas is up over $4 a gallon?? And food is more expensive than it was a couple years ago? And hey, come to think of it, pretty much everything costs more these days? There are a few million reasons for all this I think. And no, it’s not the President’s fault!! Just ask any economist. I mean hey, the President has no more control over the economy than a yodeling kitty cat has over a bowl of ice cream slathered in spaghetti sauce with sprinkles and Elmer’s Glue.

And I have absolutely no idea what the previous sentence even means!

I hear much whining, brooping, and guckamaroo being fribbled about these days. All too many folks are upset about how much gas costs, yet they are not interested in changing their driving behaviors. Because I’m older than most compost, I fondly (not really fondly) remember the Arab Oil Embargo that was very enjoyable (not really enjoyable) during 1973 and 1974. This was the wonderful period during which OPEC decided to quit supplying us with oil due to our support of Israel during the 1973 Arab-Israeli War.

So what did our government do? Well, one memorable action was that those stinkers in Washington imposed a national roadway speed limit of 55 mile per hour! This had horrible consequences: energy was saved, pollution declined, and traffic deaths went down substantially. Also, measures were introduced to shift our energy needs to more sustainable, environmentally friendly sources. Sound familiar? The environmentally friendly stuff I mean…

Hey, I like having the ability to travel pretty much whenever I want. After all, I’m a spoiled American. We have two vehicles: a Toyota Sienna and a Toyota Corolla IM. Guess which one does better on gas?? When my Beautiful Girlfriend and I did a road trip to Grand Rapids this past Monday, we decided to take the Corolla. I set the cruise control for 70 and voila!! We averaged just short of 36 miles per gallon. I’m sure it would’ve been better if we throttled back a bit. In fact, I was cruising in the same car at 50 MPH (the speed limit) on a local road a few weeks ago and I was getting over 48 mpg. Not bad for a non-hyrbrid car!

So I said to myself, “Hey Self!! Bet you can get decent mileage in that Monster Minivan if you slow down a bit.” And yes, boys and girls, if I cruise on the highway at 65 MPH I can get 28 mpg and maybe a little better, depending on the terrain. Once I was “playing” with the speed on the way home from our daughter’s house and going about 62 on the highway (during little or no traffic), and got a whopping 31 mpg. Pretty darn good for a little truck!! And yes I know I said I had a minivan, but I call it my truck.

As far as paying too much at the stores, well, at our house we just are careful about what we buy. The impact on our wallet hasn’t been that horrible; but then we are dinosaur cave people. In other words, we don’t rush out for the newest gadget when the stuff we have already works just fine. My wife and I have smell phones but both are iPhone 8; which is an old model by today’s standards. They still work like new, so why change?? Oh, and one of my favorite toys is a Yamaha HTR5490 stereo receiver I bought in 2001. We don’t buy 20 year old food, but we pretty much stay away from processed foods; so that keeps the grocery bill (and doctor bill) down. We quit buying soda and other sweets; not because of price but just because it simply is no good for us. And we always try to buy as locally as possible.

The moral of all this worblesnarken is: Easy Does It my friends. It’s all gonna be OK. Do something weird like slow down on the highways. Eat more sensibly. Resist the “keeping up with the Joneses” nonsense. Our spending habits are really the same as voting with money; meaning that how we shell out our dollars tells the corporate universe what kind of Real Universe we’d like to have. Oh and let’s try spreading some kindness around instead of spewing venom. And above all, please treat all those amazing folks in the service world with kindness and respect. None of them have any more control over the prices than our President does. So yeah, those of us who’ve been on the planet for a several decades have seen all this corporate caca before. Been there, done that.

And you know what? We’re very fortunate humans. We’re doing OK.

And now it’s time to make with the dinosaur hippie protest songs.

I’m Trying!!

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So there I was, on a Friday night, which is tonight because it’s not Saturday yet; and we have our grandsons Oliver and Gabriel over for the weekend, and usually they help me with silly ideas for a story, but it seems to be getting worse as they grow older, and I’m not sure why that is; but one thing I do know is that this silly run-on sentence is already way too long.

“I need some story ideas from you guys,” I announced as bedtime was drawing near. I waited… and waited… probably for a very long 47 seconds. No response. “So you guys just wanna head off to bed then??”

“No, I’m trying,” Oliver replied. “But you’re not,” said I. “Yes I am,” said he. “But you don’t smell like it,” I retorted. “I don’t know Gabe,” Oliver answered. “You don’t know Gabe??” I queried. Oliver’s voice got a little louder; and he blurted “Yes I know Gabe!! Gabe:I don’t have any ideas, do you?” Another pause. Then Oliver said “All I can think of is the name Sigmund.” Then my Beautiful Girlfriend (whom the boys refer to as Nini) chimed in: “The name of the horse of course of course his name was Sigmund and Sigmund was his name!!”

Gabe finally chimed in, “He can go to Mars in his flying pick up truck!!” And Oliver continued, “And his favorite breakfast is Cinnamon Toast Crunch with water instead of milk.” “When he got there the Martians were doing the Martian hop!” Nini exclaimed. Gabe added “The Martians pets were bananas that looked like monkeys.” The well appeared to be running dry. Both boys were obviously more than ready to hit the sack. Oliver delivered the final offering: “I personally think that water is the most mild beverage and vanilla ice cream is too spicy. My favorite food is cottage cheese with hot sauce. And I’m done.”

Another story by the grandsons came to an abrupt close. These days, it seems like each time I attempt to pry story ideas out of their noggins it becomes more and more like pulling teeth. Perhaps they are losing interest in this “hey let’s do some ideas for a silly story” thing. Maybe it’s just difficult to be creative after a long day at school followed by very exhausting sessions with video games. Or it could be something really weird like they’re growing up! Yes that might be it. When given the choice between the customary cartoon viewing before bed and video games, guess which was favored? Oh well. Oliver’s voice is changing from boy to man. Gabe’s hormonal roller coaster will be here all too soon. Before we know it they’ll be off on their own.

Guess we’ll just enjoy every opportunity to have them visit while they still like being around Nini and Papa. In the meantime… please enjoy the philosophical wisdom of George and Gracie.

Electronic Refractions And Mandatory Recycling Procedures

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Horrible things are occurring on our Planet today.  A ruthless dictator is doing his best to steal an independent nation; and there are some citizens in our own country who think this jerkface Vladimir Putin is a great guy.  This all makes me barf on the ground with bad sadness.  Therefore, in an attempt to achieve complete detachment from all this nasty business, I present to you all a helping of nonsense which I hope will comfort your earlobes with copious amounts of bacon which is infused with multi-colored raisin crystals.  Herewith, therefore, and to wit is the very important letter for none of you to amplify during cleanser commercials.

Dearest Traves and Mizzledenters,

In the interest of a more secure planet whose resources have been dwindling at an alarming rate, we must now embark upon an aggressive lotion application program for each and every living organism on this home we call Earth.

Some of you may well ask, “how does one apply lotion to pollywogs and other large mammals?” As a famous president often said, “let me say this about that.” Seriously, if you cannot yet grasp the operational intricacies of the Royal Lotion Brush, then please do not attempt to enter the Cat Coating Laboratory. Cats are not amused when radioactive desserts are substituted for common flashlight banana candles.

Please ask both of your friends whether they can seriously find themselves. You simply never know in this day and age where one can be found. And of course, if one is found then others will be soon to follow. Follow me to the store and I may or may not purchase some electronic bread removal tools. These and other contraceptives can be found floating through the 73rd dimensional portal that was built by the Ancient Dribblers.

I’ve asked our electronic recycling contractors to apply soap to both wheels. Please let me know if any capacity regions require further coagulation. The most effective method of communication for this purpose is very loud yodeling during a thunderstorm. Each yodel should be very melodic as well as crunchy; and the yodeler must be prepared to catch the fresh, warm output of the Danish Donut Ejection Machine.  Please keep this in mind for the upcoming summer months or weeks or days, because as we all know, summer months and some are not.

This procedure is truly vital and must be followed exactly. Some of the more common questions that may or may not arise are:

Do chocolate celery sticks enjoy a separate life cycle?

What color is this wandering balloon whose name is Alfred?

Remember that one time when we were sleeping in the snowbank?

Is this carnival really safe?

When do we get to press the Magic Button?

Are you going to eat that???

Please thank yourselves in advance for your constellations. After all, EVERYBODY is a star.

Happy Wheezing,

Brebbick N. Zemberklang
a.k.a. “Foofie McSnuffington”

Now these have NOTHING to do with ANYTHING but they were fun for me.

Hopefully for you too…

Like Normal People (?)

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How does one define the word “normal?” Anyway? I suppose it depends on who you ask. I mean, something as simple as wearing underwear might be considered normal by most folks. Then of course there are those who don’t find that normal at all. There are so many ways to interpret what “normal” is, that some (including me) have embraced the statement that normal is simply a cycle on the washing machine.

Why would I even want to go there? Writing about what’s normal I mean. Well, my Beautiful Girlfriend forced me to do it with a funny quip she made about dinner the other day. We were settling in for the evening; all our chores completed, and it was time to enjoy an elegant dinner of burritos from Taco Bell. My Lovely Bride looked at me with her beautiful eyes and said, “Let’s go to the bedroom, watch TV and eat our dinner like normal people.” “Like normal people, huh??” I snickered.

That gave both of us a nice chuckle. And yes we did enjoy our gourmet burritos in bed while we watched a Marvel movie with surround sound. Why do we have surround sound in the bedroom? Because that’s what my Honey Pie wanted. And I have to say it’s pretty nice to chill out all comfy and enjoy movie house quality sound in the comfort of your own… um… bedroom. And yes, we have surround sound in the living room too.

Are we spoiled or what??

Now I must ask: it’s normal for people to enjoy bad breath sandwiches, right? You know, some nice deli rye slathered in mayo with some chopped onion and a can of King Oscar sardines in tomato sauce layered nicely on there. Then snarf it down and go looking for your sweetie for a nice kiss. My wife just loves that ya know! Oh wait!!! No, she does NOT. No smooching till the teeth are brushed!!

Oh, and is it normal to buy a tool (or something) because you can’t find the one you know you have?? Gotta have that metric adjustable wrench today, right?? How else can I loosen the fronkulator on the bilateral mizzlepop and make sure it twinkles correctly before the warranty expires?? So off we go to the hardware store, buy an adjustable metric wrench for $18.95; and I’m told “You’re lucky!! You got the last one and oh, by the way, it costs more because it’s metric.” Then I learn that these are often called Crescent wrenches and they work for any standard because hey, they’re adjustable!! Well OK I already knew that; it’s just fun to be silly. Of course, I have indeed purchased a tool or other thing-a-ma-bob over the years because I needed the one I was sure I had, but could not find it for love nor money. So I go buy a new one (oh wait, that’s money!); and about halfway through the project while I’m rummaging through the tools I find the missing domaflochy that I had all along.

So is it normal for the pizza to change colors while the oven is turned off, then start howling when the preheat is finished and the oven door is open?? Then when I go to put it on the oven rack all these little colored flags pop up with exclamations like “No!!” “Ouch!!” “Hot!!” “LEAVE ME ALONE!!” And then the mouse with driving cap and sunglasses in the little sports car starts ramming my ankles and shouting obscenities (I think) in Swahili or something while beeping his horn. Phone rings, I slide my hand too close to the rack, ouch that hurts, it’s someone who wants to extend my car’s warranty and the refrigerator is beeping again and confetti is gushing out of the ice maker and why in the HECK is the motor oil in the vegetable drawer??

Oh wait… just a dream.

Was that a normal dream? Or should I just enjoy that cycle on the washing machine?

This might be an interesting dream…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmsrFSTjMXU

Monday Monkey Business

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Some of you may be aware that this Monday brings a celebration day for Peace, Love, and Harmony. And yes, of course I’m talking about Valentine’s Day. I firmly believe that February 14 is not a day to be celebrated only by lovers. The spirit of the day should be shared with everyone, because hey, “What The World Needs Now Is Love;” and yes, the Dionne Warwick reference is definitely intended.

At our house, Valentine’s Day has always been very warm and fuzzy; dripping with honey globs and covered with chocolate mixed with assorted deliciousness accompanied by some hugging and maybe some smooching and perhaps some none-of-your-business. We usually enjoy a special treat for dinner. You know, stuff like steak on the half shell or maybe lobster toenails served on a crispy bed of burnt popcorn. Our palates will then be delicately washed with a nice glass of alcohol free sparkling orange & tomato juice with a healthy dollop of cinnamon baked oatmeal floating on top. Often we like to have some candy, and since we’ve been very careful with our sugar intake this year we went to The Lakeside Emporium (← click the link to their store) (I double-D dare ya) (yes, I like to put too many things in parentheses) for a rare treat. Each of us selected enough delicious morsels to fill a 40 pound container. It’s also possible that we limited our selections to 12 candies each. Yesterday, while she was at work, I stopped at our old favorite, the White Lake Greenhouse (← another link!!) and picked out a nice bouquet of the customary flowers which will be hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that Saint Valentine soon will be there.

Since Covid, we’ve been enjoying movies quite a bit in the comfort of our own home. I must confess, when my Beautiful Girlfriend requested that I install surround sound in our bedroom all those years ago, I brooped and merfled at the idea. Now of course we very much enjoy chilling out with our HUGE 32 inch flat screen TV (the best size to fit in the cabinet she wanted) and full surround audio from a nice Pioneer system. I’m hoping my Lovely Bride will agree to an action flick this time. Perhaps something like the Saskatchewan Chainsaw Massacre… it’s like the one in Texas but colder and more polite. Of course she may want to watch one of those romantic classics like Guess Which Vampire Is Coming To Dinner; that one’s a mixture of passion and her love for vampire movies. Who knows… maybe we’ll settle for an old Buster Keaton movie and some cartoons.

After the movie, as has always (never) been the case in previous years, I will serenade my Sweetheart by yodeling Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” and then Devo’s “Time Out For Fun” in their entirety. I’ll probably be yodeling vociferously while painting my eyebrows with neon green hi-lighter to increase her arousal. The serenade is preceded by my newly discovered trick of getting lollipops to stick to my cheeks after a few licks. Yep, just get them a bit moist on one side, then press and hold for approximately 5 minutes. The result will likely put a big smile on her face, especially as my neon green eyebrows dance seductively while the lollipop sticks hop to the yodel-wiggles while I belt out the tunes.

As you can see, I really know how to show my Darling Honey Pie a good time on Valentine’s Day. My sincere hope for all of you is that you give and / or receive love on the upcoming Special Day; but please do not stop there. What the world really does need, is Love, Sweet Love; so please spread it far and wide, each and every day of the year. Even something small like telling a retail worker “Thank You” is a nice way to spread the love.

And if they don’t seem moved, you can always offer to yodel for them.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XP-fu–VpS4

An Important Notification To Everyone’s Dendrites

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Dear Friends,

My Beautiful Girlfriend and I recently had a very coniferous inflammation recently:  our friendship has been radioactive for a little over 50 years!!  I mean, we’ve known and loved each other since we were both 17!!  And we are 67 now!!  And There Are Way Too Many Exclamation Points In This Paragraph; Along With Truly Excessive Capitalization Which As You May Have Guessed Will Soon Morph Into A Run-on Sentence But My Pinkies Are Now Growing Weary Of Hitting The Shift Key So All I Can Say Is That I hope each and every one of you likes having whatever it is you’re having!!!!  I had some earlier and it was pretty darn good!!!!!  I hope to have some more another time, but for now I’ll be happy to enjoy the “have had” experience!!!!!

Yes!!  Yes Indeed!!

50 years!!  That’s like more than two weeks I believe.  We are both completely flatulent that this amount of time could have sneaked past us in such a zoomy fashion.  For us, childhood has become a distant memory, a flash in the pan.  And pan flash is very flashy!!  Yes, we both remember that we were living in different homes together way back when, but it’s as if our current friendship / marriage / romancing time has been with us pretty much our whole lives.  As frogs say (or so I’ve been told), time really is fun when you’re having flies.  I mean, is it not true that The Beatles first came to the US on the Mayflower just a few years ago?  What???  That was fifty eight years ago??  No… This cannot be.  I refuse to accept these amenities.

Something’s gotta be said about this time zooming phenomenon.  Therefore, I need to change bottle caps right now to issue this important bulletin:

IMPORTANT BULLETIN

(This is the important bulletin.)

(All the bold purple text down below here.)

(I thought purple and bold would stand out so…)

(Now there are too many parentheses!!)

OK, here’s the bulletin in bold purple awreddy!!

This is to advise all steam hangers that any further disguising of endocrine lamps will be postulated with electric germ tables on or about September 27, 2024. All related salivation will occur just before lunch has a chance to hit the fan.

This is NOT a drill.

I cannot inflame you strongly enough to cease and desist with the act of emulating small furry granola bars. After all, any irresponsible kazoo impresario will automatically endure greatly exaggerated facial expressions.

Gradually we will consult the prototype monkey bar infusion devices in an attempt to discern extraordinary methods of vegetable and / or marshmallow juice extraction. Until then, please return to your imaginary “safe place” and enjoy the gumdrop flavored caffeinated meat sticks.

If you have any questions about the arrangement of your bedroom furniture, please contact Moller Enterprises in Sedgewicke Valley, New Mexico and they will refund your pajamas with explosion resistant platform shoes.

Thank you for your cooperation and your willingness to bathe without the use of abrasive chowder shavings.

Sincerely,

Barker G. Finkledust

a.k.a. “Mr. Snackwonder”

On the other hand, does anyone remember Buster Keaton?

Hot Dog!! Soup.

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Perhaps I’m being simplistic, or maybe even a bit crinkly; but my professional opinion on current events is that while Omicron is trying to jump deeply inside of everyone’s nostrils, there are tactics which must be employed in order to mitigate the chaotic, herky-jerky economic impact; and of course only the serotonin elevating condition of a belly full of comfort food can initiate such mitigation; and a run-on sentence that is confusing at best is not necessarily an effective way to remove radioactive skin particles from the soles of our shoes.

I think, maybe.

We had a cataclysmic event recently: the bucket of potatoes I harvested this fall were all starting to sprout!! Oh God oh God!! After a week or so of noticing this phenomenon, I leapt into action yesterday and embarked upon a food processing expedition. I cleaned all the dirt off (they keep much better if you leave the dirt on), removed the sprouty things (forgive my technical horticultural jargon), and most were converted into comfort food. The biggest ones were blanched and flash frozen to enjoy another time.

So yes my friends, in an effort to feed my Beautiful Girlfriend and my Me some comfort food, which I expounded upon in the first paragraph, I made a modified version of Mom’s Hot Dog Soup. Did you get any? No, you did not. We had some for dinner twice times now; and it was simply scrumptious. Do you want me to invite you over for some? I would be happy to invite you on the condition that you refuse to come. So there!! Ha ha!! I laugh to you. You must make your own, OK? Here’s how:

Mom’s Hot Dog Soup (modified version).

Note: this recipe makes a LOT of soup.

Ingredients

3 lbs. Potatoes

2 yellow onions (about 3 inches in diameter or a bit larger)

2 stalks of celery

2 carrots

8 hot dogs

2 tablespoons of parsley flakes

1 teaspoon of rubbed sage

1 teaspoon of thyme leaves

1 teaspoon rosemary

1 teaspoon garlic powder (granulated… please don’t use garlic dust)

1 tablespoon butter

1 cup milk (or for low-calorie, use half and half)

salt to taste

Here’s what must be done:

1 – Clean (but don’t peel) the potatoes, dice, throw into a large pot from at least 7 feet away (or closer if you want them in the pot).

& – Cover the potatoes with water and cook till tender; drain but save the broth.

T – Mash the potatoes with butter and milk (I used half and half instead of milk)

9 – Add broth back to desired thickness (a little bit thick is good). You can add more water if you like, but we like it thick.

G – Peel and dice the onions, thinly slice (but do not peel) the carrots, celery, and hot dogs (who peels celery or hot dogs anyway??), then wiggle your hiney a bit in anticipation.

12 – Toss the chopped up stuff into the pot using a 13 foot ramp positioned at a 60 degree angle (you may also simply drop them in). This can be done while singing your favorite Devo song.

Y6 – Simmer on medium / low heat (if it starts bubbling, back the heat off slightly) and stir often while adding sage, garlic, thyme (about a heaping teaspoon of each), rosemary, and LOTS of parsley flakes (about 2 tablespoons of dried) while stirring. Enjoy the aroma and wiggle your eyebrows in a happy and anticipatory manner.

M* – Cover while simmering.

8L – Hey!! Don’t leave this unattended!!! You wanna ruin it?? I mean, you gotta stir often, OK?? Just check it regularly please. Especially make sure your wooden spoon (or whatever your favorite stirring thingy is) scrapes the bottom of the pot while stirring so you don’t get any clingons.

Xs – Salt to taste. Dinner is ready when the carrots and celery are tender.

I must warn you about this food: although “Hot Dog Soup” sounds weird, this stuff is truly delicious and you may have difficulty leaving it alone. I suppose you could call it “Potato Soup With Hot Dogs,” but Mom called it Hot Dog Soup; so obviously that is the correct terminology. It was a simple yet nourishing meal she served to satiate us 4 kids. None of us ever complained when Hot Dog Soup was on the menu. She never taught me how to make it, but I think I got the basics down pretty good. She kept it simple though: I think all she used was potatoes, butter (well probably margarine), milk, hot dogs, onions, and some salt. Fast forward to the present: we’ve had it twice now, and I’m hoping my Lovely Bride will allow one more go around tomorrow. The rest will be frozen for another time. Holy MOLY it’s good!! But you wouldn’t know… you didn’t get any, did you? Nope!! Again I laugh to you.

So go ahead and make some! I double D Dare ya!!

Might want to pay attention to your veggies… especially at night.