Category Archives: Fun

How Do You Think “Dear Abby” Got Started???

photo-390Since I began this humor blog back in January of this year (as a New Year’s resolution) I have sometimes been mistaken for an advice columnist.  Don’t ask me how that could happen because I might just tell you.  Anyhow, I have decided that every so often I will run a post containing “The Best Of” questions submitted to me.  Are you ready?  Of course you are!

DEAR LITTLE MISS MENOPAUSE…

 

Dear LMM~

I have this nosy neighbor (think Mrs. Kravitz on Bewitched) who is the only one who offers to help feed our cats and water the plants for free when my boyfriend and I travel.  The problem is sometimes when we return from a trip,  I can tell she has gone through my things.  The last time we went out of town on a cruise I decided to teach this little Snoop a lesson.   I planted a photo of me with her husband (in bed together) prominently inside my medicine cabinet.  The next thing I knew, her spouse had moved out and she won’t speak to me anymore.  I feel horribly guilty.  And our cats get awfully hungry.  How can I let her know it was just an innocent practical joke of sorts, without her blaming me for the demise of her marriage?  I’ve since hidden the offending photo inside my copy of Gone With the Wind.

A Gentle Reader

Which actress did you like best playing Mrs. Kravitz?

Which actress did you like best playing Mrs. Kravitz?

 

 

Dear Gentle Reader (as opposed to a Rough Reader?)

Schedule an immediate trip to Hawaii.  Write an entry in your secret diary confessing that you knew it was the wrong thing to do but you couldn’t resist teaching your helpful neighbor a lesson about privacy and boundaries.  Then describe how you rigged your medicine cabinet, signing off with, “Gosh, I sure hope she’ll forgive me one day.”  Good luck!

Little Miss Menopause

ps.  How did you happen to have a photo of you and her husband in bed together?

 

Dear LMM~

You’re the same age as my wife so maybe you can help.  She says I don’t express my love for her.  I am a busy man with a full time law career and many hobbies like volunteering with troubled youth, yoga and wild game hunting.  I’ve stopped for roses on my way home but she claims flowers just wither and die.  I’ve resorted to other nice gestures too, like complimenting her dress.  But she says, “If you like my clothes so much, maybe you should marry Yves St. Laurent!   She has a lot of time on her hands to worry that we’ve fallen out of love.  Help!

Venus or Mars (I forget which one men are?)

 

Dear Venus or Mars (throw that Planet book away already!)

You’re in luck!  Little Miss Menopause just started supplementing her writing income with what she calls, “The High Tech, Save Your Neck by writing one Small Check” Romance Package.  For one low monthly fee of $59.95 your wife will receive 50 texts a day saying things like, “I like that dress you had on this morning, but I’d rather see it on the floor!”  or  “Roses are red, violets are blue, flowers may wither and die, but not my affection for you!”  But wait, that’s not all.  She will get 10 emails a day containing mushy gushy poetry, old fashioned love letters, sexual innuendo crossword puzzles, custom word searches with all her favorite things, plus intriguing “treasure hunts” that send her all over the internet looking for her complicated clues.   Eight times a day, a new post will show up on her Facebook with photos of exotic locations with “I’d like to whisk you off to this place” messages.  She will be so busy keeping up with all “your” attention that she won’t have any time to nag you ever again.   How does that sound?  You just need to provide me with her email, Facebook name, cell phone, favorite color, her interests/hobbies and her astrological sign.

Little Miss Menopause

Men: Do some woman find this to be symbolic of your relationship together?

Men: Do some woman find this to be symbolic of your relationship together?

 

Dear LMM~

You’re the same age as me so maybe you can help.  My husband is falling out of love with me.  I have noticed all the signs.  Once in a while he brings home a few wilted daisies or says he likes my dress.  You seem so alive and vivacious.  How do you keep the passion in your long term relationships?  Sorry I write to you so often about this topic but it’s very important to me.

Withering in Wisteria Lane

 

Dear Withering in the Fictional Street from that Television Show,

You’re in luck!  Little Miss Menopause has just started to supplement her writing income with what she calls the “Having a Fake Affair will give your Marriage a Prayer, I Swear!”  Romance Package.  For one low monthly fee of $59.95, a “pretend handsome suitor” will send you interesting text messages, elaborate emails your husband could never think of, (no matter what his Yoga position!) plus little Facebook messages (that will have all your girlfriends green with envy) depicting the places he’ll take you to.  All you have to do is act a bit secretive and give vague answers as to where you’ve been all day.  Your husband will become insanely jealous and suddenly lavish you with so much attention you won’t have time to write to me anymore.  How does that sound? You just need to provide me with your email, Facebook name, cell phone, your favorite color, your interests/hobbies and the location that your husband keeps his gun.

Little Miss Menopause

 

Dear LMM~

I live next door to this incredibly kind woman.  She’s always giving good advice, she even offers to care for our pets when we travel out of the goodness of her heart.   I used to have this little crush on Mrs. Kravitz from Bewitched and she actually reminds me of her.  She’s a married woman but I noticed her husband suddenly left.  I’ve been thinking of getting out of a relationship with the woman I’m living with before we tie the knot because (and I know this may sound trivial)  she won’t stop playing practical jokes around the house.  I never know what I might come across.  But I could never hurt such a faithful woman after ten years.  What would you suggest?

Fixated With Pet-Sitter and Tired of Sitting on Whoopee Cushions

 

Dear Fixated,

Bewitched reruns play often and that seems like a great compromise.  But you might want to read “Gone With the Wind” for an exciting change of pace.

Little Miss Menopause

Page 69 is especially revealing!

Page 69 is especially revealing!

 

Dear LMM~

I have a hard time believing that the letters you get asking for advice are legit?  C’mon, aren’t you making all these questions up when you run out of topics to post about?  Including this question?  It would be kind of weird if you were really just talking to yourself here.

Skeptical

 

Dear Skeptical,

Every good writer knows that staying within a reasonable word count is important and readers tend to get bored and lose interest  after 1,000 words.  I am sorry that your important question came right at this juncture.  Goodbye.  Note to self:  Buy shredded lettuce and cheese for tacos tonight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Am I The Only One Having These Thoughts? (And if you are too, does that mean we BOTH need a shrink?!)

photo 2-2I can’t help it.  I go through my day, minding my own business, just trying to accomplish my life goals when these little “nonsense asides” start chatting me up. Like really – – the voices in my head won’t stop prattling on.  So I finally made a list of ’em just to purge myself from this bizarre minutia internal clutter!  (Disclaimer:  It’s also a way to blog about unrelated subjects!)

The Top Ten Unimportant But Incessant Thoughts From Little Miss Menopause

 

1.  ABOUT FOOD:  I am a careful eater and I read labels.  Why is there often a phrase listed under ingredients that states authoritatively,  “May contain…” and then goes on to list things like “paprika, lard, egg whites, yeast extracts, etc.”  What goes on here?  May Contain??  Nobody is sure??  Does a factory worker shout to the Head Cook, “Hey!  Look at that giant black spider on the wall!” And then (when his attention is diverted) stealthily pour a vial of sesame seeds and cilantro in the big vat the cook has been toiling over?  Or quickly cracks a few eggs into the mixture?  C’mon, how do they get away with this nebulous jargon?  There’s no “May”  – – you either are a virgin or you’re not.  Lecithin is either in my beef jerky or it’s not.  One piece of good news – – I’ve yet to see, “May contain giant black spiders” written on any ingredient list.photo-386

2.  ABOUT NON-FOOD:  This thought is related to #1 because I often observe this in drugstore type products like medicines and lotions.  I like to buy sunscreens that only feature two things:  Zinc Oxide and Titanium Dioxide.  Period.  (And yes, I know this causes your complexion to have a ghostly white pallor but I just smile sweetly and explain to people that I’m a Kabuki Dancer and they stop staring.) Now that’s all well and good when I buy the Neutrogena brand and it lists only those two minerals under “Active Ingredients.”  But then suddenly it contains the following things: Alcohol, Cyclomethecone, Ethylcellulose, Retinyl Palmitate, Tocopheryl Acetate, Sodium PCA, Ascorbic Acid, Panthenol, Aloe Leaf Juice, BHT, Benzophenone 3 under the heading of “Inactive Ingredients.”  What’s the deal?  Inactive?  If they’re not doing anything or performing in some way, get them the heck off my skin!  I don’t want some passive, loitering bystander named “Ascorbic Acid” just sitting around viewing everything.  My breasts are not a spectator sport.

3.  ABOUT SHIPS:  How come seeing a model ship inside of a glass wine bottle brings about mystery/intrigue but seeing a model photo-385holding a wine bottle inside of a ship is no big deal.  I really do think of these things.

photo-3844.  ABOUT SHOPPING:  When I go into a fitting room in a department store, there is often a sign proclaiming, “Dressing Room under surveillance.”  (Oh!  So my breasts ARE a spectator sport?)  How is this even legal?  I seriously hope this is just a bluff to scare would-be shoplifters and that there aren’t three men sitting on stools behind two-way mirrors, snickering while holding up signs that say “2.5” and “1.6” after I’ve tried on two different bikinis, completely oblivious that I’m competing in the Swimsuit Olympics.

5.  ABOUT KEYS:   After the above saga in the department store, I often march out in a huff.  Only to realize I’ve left my car keys inside.  The Three Judgey Men are probably now hooting and hollering, “Wait!  She has a muffin top AND she’s hair-brained too?!!”  But get this – – when I go up to Customer Service, she opens a drawer overflowing with people’s car keys and asks me to identify mine.  What the ?  How did the owners of all these car keys ever drive home?  I spy some major status symbol keychains in that drawer. Why isn’t Nordstrom’s parking lot littered with abandoned Mercedes and BMWs?

6.  ABOUT TRAVEL:   I fly on airplanes with a lot of kids.  Flight attendants urge me to put my own oxygen mask on first before I assist my children. By the time I do this and oh let’s say helped my next three munchkins seated the closest, the last three patient cherubs will have turned blue.  Well, at least they will never know I liked their siblings better.

6.   ABOUT DIVORCE:   I’ve been divorced twice.  Both times the legal procedure dragged on a long period before it was finalized.  Over the course of that time, I sometimes needed to introduce these men (that I was separated from) at various events. But there’s no name or term for this status.  You can’t say, “This is my spouse or my ex-husband” because they aren’t either of those things.   We need some new word in our vocabulary for that in-between stage – – I propose it be an acronym since those are so popular now.  How about, “I’d like you to meet my SOB”  (Soon Over Board?  Someday Outa Bounds?)   Wait, I know!  MILF is catchy these days.  MILF = Man I’d Like to Flee!

7.  ABOUT THE INTERNET:   “Poking” someone on Facebook is just an adult version of “Gotcha Last!”  Also a “Mail Daemon” sounds like a supernatural, evil deity and I get spooked when one of these shows up in my inbox.  Speaking of email – – why do so many people nowadays end theirs with “Cheers!”  I understand if they’re British, but it’s definitely infiltrated into American protocol.  Saying “Cheers” is something we do before clinking our champagne glasses.  Therefore, I am going to sign off all my emails from now on with “Bon Appetit.”  Let people wonder.  And salivate.

photo 1-38.   ABOUT WASTE:  I take a lot of walks – – many times  on “Garbage Day.”  It’s not that I plan it that way, but it happens.  And I drink a bottle of water.  When I’m finished, I toss the empty plastic bottle in a neighbor’s trash-can that’s sitting by their curb.  It never fails that I get the dirtiest looks.  Did my personal litter just taint their private, precious rubbish? Ohhh, I get it.  I’m not recycling.

9.  ABOUT TOILETS:   How come when I’ve been alone in my own home for a long period of time, I walk into the bathroom and notice that the toilet seat has been left up.  There hasn’t been anyone here other than me for days!  What’s the deal?  Did I scrub it thoroughly earlier, but I just don’t remember?  Nah – – far more likely that I have a male ghost who can’t hold it.

(Sorry, I lied.  Nine unimportant thoughts, but now a tenth Fairly Significant One.)

10.  ABOUT LAST CHANCES:   Why don’t we ever know or get some kind of advanced warning that something we routinely do will never again be done?  I never thought when I finished the last package of my favorite brand of beef jerky (yes, with the “May Contain” ingredients!) that the manufacturer would discontinue that product the very next day.  I would have savored it more.  I never realized that the last experience nursing my sixth child would be the final time and he would suddenly wean himself and graduate to solid foods.  I would have held a special little ceremony.  And I never dreamed that the thousandth time I said, “Goodbye Dad,* drive safely,” to my father would be the end of my ever uttering those words to him again.   Never take anything or anyone you care about for granted.  Always say “I love you.”

*Written in honor of my beloved Dad who passed away nine years ago on July 11th.  He was my biggest humor writing fan.

So confess — what is your oddest, most random thought??

 

This Text Has Me Vexed And Perplexed!

photo-382A few weeks ago, I let you have a glimpse into the email box of a 50 year old woman – – Me!   It wasn’t pretty.  So I decided that revealing my texts from this past week couldn’t be any worse.  Disclaimer:  I deleted all my complex Sext Texts rejects to this guy, Rex (you should see him flex his Pecs!) so I wouldn’t lose your respects.

Forget Vexing & Perplexing!?  Where is My Sextng?!

 

1.  We’ll start with my 16 year old – – needs no further explanation.

photo 5-1

photo 1

 

2.  My Ex-Husband is still trying to move on.  I once wrote a dating profile for him right here.

 

photo-23

 

 3.  My 21 year-old son 

photo 5

 

4.  In the middle of all this, I had a thoroughly delightful conversation with my younger kid’s teacher.

photo 2

 

5.  And then my own mother. . . she’s 72.  Oh, and we’re Jewish.  Need I say more?

photo 4-1

 

6.  So of course I had to do the right thing.  Hmmph.

photo 3

 

7.  Naturally my “friend” Tiffany gave me lots of “empathy.”  You can read more about Tiffany HERE.

photo 3-1

 

8.   And the other 21 year-old son now.  (Yep, twins)

photo 4

 

9.   My own Mother once again texted (obviously recovered enough to get out and about) so I decided “if I can’t beat ’em, then I would join ’em!”

photo 1-1

10.  And I’ll close with another text between my teenage daughter (miraculously not about shopping) – –  I initiated it this time!

photo 2-1

 

 

So there you have it – – My Racy Text Life.  And how’s yours these days???

 

 

“Is That Even a Thing?” (How To Talk Young Even if You’re Not!)

photo-379“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.”  The first time I heard that, I thought Tiffany, my flirtatious neighbor, was talking about an affair she started with our mailman. Seemed plausible – –  a while ago she confessed she had “a thing” for him ever since he delivered a large package.  Turns out casually remarking,”it’s a thing” has nothing to do with attraction or having sex.  It’s a way of reporting that something is now extremely popular – – a big fad.  In this case, she was confirming that you can order crazy sounding drinks off  a secret menu at Starbucks.     However if it’s such a secret, how can it be so widespread??

“No,”  I retorted to 45-year old Tiffany, who obviously thought she was so young and “with it,” she even changed her name from Theresa.  “You can DO your OWN thing.  Or drink Coca Cola.  It’s the REAL thing.   But nothing at Starbucks can be called a thing.”  She looked at me like I wore bell-bottoms and rode a bike with happy-face stickers on my banana seat.  (I used to!)  And lemme just say that I so rocked that look.

Would you still date me if I dated myself by riding this bike?

Would you still date me if I dated myself by riding this bike?

So I decided to let her know I could use the word “Thing” and be just as far-out as she was.  “Wild Thing….you make my heart sing….”  I crooned.  She stared in a mind-bending kinda way and then said, “Seriously?”

That’s when I knew I should probably brush up on my slang and talk  “hip” in such a way that nobody would ever think I could be referring to my grandmother’s serious injury if she were to fall down the stairs.  God forbid.

Miss Menopause’s Guide To Trendy Talk

(Check it out!  Hint:  That doesn’t mean you need to head to your local library.)

1.  When sitting at a red light that finally turns green, gun your motor, roll down your window to the driver next to you and yell, “We’re good to go!”  Speaking of revving motors, when (or if!) you finally feel aroused enough by your partner – – you can also excitedly whisper, “I’m good to go.”  This is more of a turn-on than pulling out little green flag from under your pillow, waving it and shouting, “Let’s do this!”  But never say any of this  during PDF.  If you don’t know that acronym, you’re beyond my help.

2.  Ever wonder what to say in a quiet elevator?  “How are you today?  Oh fine, thank you. And you?”  Meh.  So passe! (Did you catch that cool “Meh” I just threw in there?  Make good note of that one little word  You’ll see it later on.)  But seriously, as an alternative to finding out how everyone (standing in a crowded, claustrophobic, motorized little box with no place to look but the thing that tells you what floor you’re on, even though there’s only two floors) is doing today – –  just exclaim, while pointing, “Hey! I’m good.  You’re good.  He’s good.  She’s good.  We’re good.  It’s all good.  No worries!”   Note:  Nobody says “Hi” or “Hello” anymore.  For this to come off totally radical, you must start it off by saying, “Hey!”  Also, if you can sing the preceding dialogue, sort of like the old Dr. Pepper commercial, “I’m a Pepper, She’s a Pepper, He’s a Pepper, They’re a Pepper, Cher’s a Pepper, Tony Orlando’s a Pepper” (you get the idea) then you’re one step ahead of the trend!

Would you be the most "boss" in this elevator?

Would you be the most “boss” in this elevator?

3.  After you’re done conducting yourself as elaborately outlined in step #2 above, look down and just barely perceptibly, under your breath, utter the word, “Awkward!”

4.  Here’s a great way to combine two “in” words together into one sentence.   1.  Swag  and   2. Sketch   ~  This works best with artsy, interior designer types.  “Hey!  I just hung some new Swag Drapes.  Wanna come over and Sketch them?”  Have Arizona brand iced-tea ready.

5.  Remember The Twilight Zone?  (My fave episode – – the little girl who fell into her wall)  Well, nowadays you gotta work “In the Zone” into your vocabulary as much as possible.  We’re not talkin’ exploring different time zones and we’re not talkin’ football player end zones.  We’re talkin,’  “I’m totally Zoned Out, man.”  (Note:  Remember to always say, “We’re talkin'” when you’re speaking, just in case they don’t know there’s some totally sweet language coming out of your mouth.)  And now Miss Menopause is going to up your “Righteous, Rad Ratio” so you’ll always be in the Zen Zone.  Say this when someone asks you to do something you’re uncomfortable with (like reblogging this post for instance)  “Gee, I wish I could, but that’s outside of my Comfort Zone.”  Then turn around and tell the guy you just slept with last week, “Sorry Dude.  You’ve just been Friend-Zoned.”  Final Note:  Calling females “Dude” is beyond “Hip.”  Yes, my grandma is still doing fine, thank you.

6.  And now all you athletic types.  Do you bowl?  Play Bocce ball?  After you take your turn, suavely announce, “That’s just how I roll.”  If you’re not into sports, sit back, wrap up a joint of marijuana and state the same thing.

7.  Wanna really be thought of as young?  Start making even more mistakes than normal while proclaiming, “Oops….My Bad.”  You’ll be forgiven every time (without ever saying you’re sorry) – – no matter how severe your menopausal Brain Fog is.

8.  YOLO  =  You Only Live Once.   This is far too simplistic.  Whoever thought it up clearly wasn’t into creative acronyms.  Start some new lingo by shouting, YOLOBOLOPOLO  (You Only Live Once, But Offering Lovers Orgasms Pleases Old Lonely Organizers.” You’ll be especially welcomed, if you shriek this loudly in swimming pools whilst playing, “Marco Polo.”

9.  Here’s how to place your order in that chic new cafe, “I’ll have some Cool Beans smothered in Awesomesauce and make em’ Smokin!”

10.  Randomly mutter the word, “Random.”  This needs zero explanation.  Just do it.  (That’s Nike talk!)

Okay!  There you have it.  I’m even going to give you a little guide to leaving the sickest, baddest, (that means they’ll be good!) comments.

You can comment with the following:

a) Meh.  I am so over it.

b)  I’m down!

c)  I’ll give it a try.  But first….lemme take a Selfie.

BTW, You can comment with other things, too.  And I really hope you will.  So just Chillax!

She's not a Dudette. She's still a Dude. But she does need a chill-pill. You're catching on!

She’s not a Dudette. She’s still a Dude. But she does need a chill-pill. You’re catching on!

 

So . . . The Dog Ate Your Email?

"I'm lost and I have important info!"

“I’m lost and I have important info!”

The glint of something oblong and shiny in the bushes caught my eye as I strolled with my dog through a nearby park.  When I bent to check it out, I was surprised to find an egg.  This wasn’t the Homeowners in my neighborhood’s idea of offering a hearty free breakfast for the residents – – No, this was a plastic remnant from an Easter Egg Hunt.  I shook the contents of the pearly pink shell and it rattled.  Hopefully those are Skittles and not M&M’s, I thought, or the insides will be a chocolate mess (we’ve had 100 degree weather since April) but when I pried it open, instead of the jelly beans, my focus became the note.

Ava:  I hope you enjoy this one last sweet treat from a Nana who loves you!

My writer’s mind went to work.   Was Ava getting too old for egg hunts?  Did she develop a serious case of diabetes?  Was Nana terminally ill?  Was this the one and only egg that contained those loving, parting words from a grandmother to her grandchild and I was the wrong person holding it?

Recently I have been both the sender and receiver of many text messages and emails that were never received.  This is a real problem with technology because you don’t realize your words are not being transmitted and you end up feeling ignored or unacknowledged.

Worse, crucial information that would have impacted an important outcome has gone missing and nobody knows it.

Once I drove two hours to pick up a child who cheerfully announced, “Thanks Mom, but I texted you earlier to let you know I already had a ride home.”

I have lost blogging jobs because I never received an email telling me I needed to submit a sample of my writing before a specific deadline.

I have sent an apology and told someone I loved them dearly only to have them proceed as if we were parting ways.  (Granted that would have been better verbalized in person, but you know us gun shy writers.)

Let’s look at how outcomes in history would be altered if certain communications had come across as they were intended.

 

DIDN’T YOU GET THE MEMO???

 

Dear Prince Charming – – I heard you found a high heel slipper at your ball.  That would be mine!  I’m going through some glandular stuff right now, so I might look a little “different” when next we rendezvous.  But rest assured . . .  that’s MY size 6 Jimmy Choo and there’s no need to send some Duke Dude with a foot fetish throughout your land, searching high and low.   See ya at our wedding!

Drizella

ps.  Beware of sooty-faced Gold-Digger girls with petite feet nicknamed Cindy.

 

Garfunkel,

I’m skipping the Scarborough Fair today.  But I’ve been thinking – – Crooning about “The Sound of Silence” makes no sense. Let’s do the piece in sign language.  Also, “Like a Bridge Over Troubled Water”   –  meh, I dunno – – really?   How about “Like a Bathmat Over Soggy Carpet, I will Lay Me Down?”  And finally, that Mrs Robinson chick is one Hot Mama!  I say we draw guitar picks to see who’s gonna be “Feelin’ Groovy” with her tonight!

Simon

 

photo-374My Darling Barbie – – As much as I love your va-va voom measurements, maybe we should give all the females in this country a break. You should probably start eating.  Outback Steakhouse at 7 pm?

Ken

 

Sonny,

Pick up a Barbie for Chastity on your way home from skiing today.  I’m thinking our daughter should be playing with dolls a little more.

Cher

 

Siskel~

We better give “Terms Of Endearment” two thumbs up.  I’ve heard that Karma can be a real bitch.

Ebert

 

Okay Peter,

Will you just grow up already?  And stop with the Flying Fad.  United Airlines offers round-trips for less than the cost of a Pirate’s Booty.  Besides, we could partner up and have a great career in Peanut Butter.  I promise to split the profits fairy fairly.

Tinkerbell

 

Shalom Dr. Seuss:

It has come to our attention you are planning on publishing a book that might mislead quite a number of children down the wrong path with its title and subject matter.  We respectfully ask you to consider “Green Eggs and Brisket” instead.

National Council of Jewish Mothers

 

Hey Abbott~

I am so over talking about baseball ad nauseam.  Let’s go bowling tonight instead.  How does that strike you?

Finally, "Hu" IS on first!

Finally, “Hu” really IS on first!

Costello

 

To Dorothy (and your little dog ToTo too!)

I don’t mean you any harm.  I’m really a Goth clothing designer and the Ruby shoes are just what I need for this new black gown I’m manufacturing.  The message in the sky was not supposed to say “Surrender Dorothy!” it was supposed to read, “Suspender Dorothy!”   My little fashion tip to you (with all that blue gingham you’ve got going on!)  Sheesh, where is the Giant Etch-a Sketch when you need to fix a Cloud Typo?  See you on Broadway in Wicked!

What a world!

Elphaba

 

Siegfried,

Just watched a Wizard of Oz rerun – – “Lions and TIGERS and bears….Oh My God!”

Roy

 

Adam & Eve,

Forgot to mention that Apples are now on the Dirty Dozen List of produce and should only be eaten if they are certified USDA Organic or with the skin peeled.  To be safe, I’d pass on all of ’em.   And talking Serpents?  In what whose Universe??

Your One & Only,

God

 

Our Beloved Snow White,

We have a feeling you need to study your bible more, particularly looking into the Adam and Eve skit referenced above.  An Apple is always a metaphor for something bad.  We’re working late in the mine tonight and don’t plan on building any glass coffins to stand watch over a maiden, no matter how pale her skin – – So don’t wait up for us.  Sleep well.

The Seven Dwarfs

 

This Easter Egg didn't have my name on it...

This Easter Egg didn’t have my name on it…

Oh, and it was with great sentimentality that I posted a “Lost & Found” notice on our neighborhood bulletin board to see if I could return the wayward Easter Egg to the poor little ill-fated Ava or her affectionate (but not long for this world) Nana.  I left my cell number so they could message me.

This morning an acne-faced teenage girl showed up on my doorstep making sure I knew I could eat all those Jelly Beans myself.   It was too late for her.  She has a full set of braces now.

I never got that text.

How has a lost email/text or missed voicemail messed up your life?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Blog Only a Mother Could Love?

 

Both Mom and WordPress will make you feel guilty that this cake is not very creative!

Both Mom and WordPress will make you feel guilty that this cake is not very creative!

Ways WordPress And Mothers Are Alike:

1. PRESSURE!    WordPress(ure?) sends me these “naggy little reminder” notifications when I have not met my “One Published Post Per Week” goal.  They sound like this,  “Uh Oh.  Have you forgotten something? It’s been a while since you’ve published anything new!”  Yet, just like Mom, WordPress never acknowledges when I’ve far exceeded those expectations (four posts in a week?!)  C’mon a little extra love?  Cookies and Milk before bed?  Grrrr,  Just like Mom – -always quick to point out that one darn B+  even though the rest were straight A’s.

2.  BARE NECESSITIES!    WordPress lets you have the basics for free but you’ll have to pay extra for any custom designs to make your blog uniquely yours.  Mom provided room and board and three square meals a day, but if you wanted to go to Disneyland or shop at Nordstrom, those “life upgrades” were gonna cost ya!

3.  REWARDS!   Remember sticker charts?  If you kept your room clean for a week, you got taken out for ice-cream?  Well, we all know that WordPress offers the chance to be “Freshly Pressed.”  But darn it, I’ve emptied the trash, dusted and vacuumed hundreds of times on my blog . . . and my only reward has been having my allergies clear up.  So WordPress – –  If you’re gonna dangle the “Freshly Pressed Carrot”  – – be clear in the steps we need to take to finally reach it.

4.  SELF-DOUBT!   Before I did anything even slightly risky, my mother had some applicable, yet tragic horror story to deter me or make me think twice about my abilities.  “Go ahead, ride your bike in bad weather.  Lisa Carter rode her 10-speed in the rain two weeks ago and now all that’s left of her is a soggy pair of size 3 Keds strapped to her bike pedals.  Is that what you want??”  On WordPress, when I am just about to delete something, up pops a little window with what I like to call a “Lisa Carter Warning Message,” It says, “Are You Sure You Want To Do That?”photo-359

5.  CONTEMPLATION!    WordPress features “The Daily Post,” which offers different Weekly Challenges. They are fun and rewarding opportunities for writing.  i.e. “Think About a Time When You Did Something So Terrific, Everyone Cheered For You.”  or  “How Has Blogging Helped You Stay Out of Therapy?”  Whereas Your mother issued some Weekly Challenges that maybe weren’t quite as fun or rewarding. “You Just Think About What You Did Wrong and By The Time I Come Back Into Your Room, You Better Have a Handwritten Apology!”   And of course your mom is the one who single-handedly drove you into therapy.

6.  ENRICHMENT!  WordPress offers a variety of themes with lots of ways to showcase your talent.  Some play up your photography skills, others emphasize your writing more prominently.  Still more themes can help you start a business or heighten your salesmanship skills with products.  Mom read books to you, enrolled you in summer camps and gave you voice lessons so you could become a more well-rounded person.  (But I’m still waiting for someone to ask me to play, “You’re a Grand Old Flag” at a social get-together – – My Mom promised me piano lessons would make me popular at parties.)

7.  LOVE!  WordPress gave birth to all the rest of our millions of online Siblings (our Followers!) and helps us stay connected to each other by holding daily Family Reunions (The Reader).  WordPress also encourages our cyber brothers and sisters to continue to offer us support and attention by leaving kind comments.  Sure, there’s gonna be some sibling rivalry reflected in those comments (Mom likes My Poetry Best . . .  so mmmnyeah!) and some “sticking out your tongue” remarks  (Ha Ha, I have more followers than you. Check out my stats.  Made ya look!!) but overall there’s lotsa WordPress Love to go around.

8.  PUNISHMENT!    “You march right into your “Log-In” window, sign on, and write one final farewell post.  And you better make it good because from now on, you’re suspended from all your WordPress blogging privileges until further notice.  You’re lucky I’m giving you a chance to say Goodbye.  Some other Blogging Websites will shut you down for violations you’re not even aware of.  And you lose every single one of your posts! FOR LIFE.   Now don’t you take that typing tone with me, Bloggy Boy.  When I was your age, we had to write in tedious diaries.  With real tiny silver keys. And we had to turn the heavy pages, both ways, with only one finger. Next time you’ll think twice before you disobey Mama WordPress!”

Dear  WordPress – – I hope you enjoyed this post.  Because I did NOT get you a bouquet of roses this year.

Love, Little Miss Menopause

“LOOK MA!  NO HANDS!”

Don't worry - - BOTH hands are on the keyboard at all times!

Don’t worry – – BOTH hands are on the keyboard at all times!

OMG! God Is Everywhere. . . Online!

photo-351It’s a full moon and God has been stalking me.  Online.   Now mind you, I think it could possibly be a God Fraud, (He spells his name Godd) but I still find it enormously flattering and will NOT get a restraining order.   It all started when I couldn’t resist clicking on the “See Who Viewed You Recently,” button on “Linked In.”  And there he was!

Godd’s Profile on LinkedIn

PROFESSIONS:

1.  Vacuum Salesman  (Cleanliness Is Next To Godliness?)

2.  Detective/Investigator (God Works in Mysterious Ways?)

3.  Atlas Van Lines (God Can Move Heaven AND Earth?)

4.  Beef Industry (Holy Cow!)

5.  Math Teacher (Your Numbers Up!)

He also endorsed me for Writing Poetry, Building Toothpick Sculptures and Cooking Meatloaf Shaped like a Heart.  How on earth did Godd ever know that??

The next thing I knew, Godd sent me a Friend Request on Facebook!!  For Heaven’s sake!

So I checked him out there, too….

Godd’s Profile on Facebook

Divorced From:  Betsy   (Heavens To Betsy!)

Children:   Two

Daughter – Marcy  (Lord Have Mercy? – – Typo on Birth Certificate?)

Son – Susej  (Dyslexia?)

Favorite Quote:  “There, but for the Grace of God, Go I.”

Favorite Food:  Angel Food Cake

Favorite Song:  “My Sweet Lord” (George Harrison)  and “God Only Knows” (The Beach Boys)

Favorite Movie:  All Dogs Go To Heaven

Pet Peeve:  Why do so many people have to sneeze every single minute?

Then to my surprise, I got a notification that Godd had become a Follower of mine right here on WordPress, so I went to peruse his Blog and this is what I saw.

 

“Godd With a Blog”

Where I part the          Red         C         C’s

Godd’s About Page – – This blog is for all my creations made in my own image.  I am all places at all times, all knowing and all powerful.   I command you to follow thee.

 

COMMENTS  (3)

 

photo-192 Wow.   You’ve really got a God complex.  Good luck with that, buddy!

 

 

IMG_3028
Thanks for liking my most recent post on Tablets.  You did understand that they were electronic, right?  Just checking because the advice to smash them was confusing? At any rate, it will be nice to have an omniscient narrator around.

 

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I really like the theme of your blog.  Maybe you could write an updated list of the Ten Plagues?  Cuz Lice?  Really?

Then suddenly I got a Wink from Godd at Match.Com.  Of course I just had to view him there.

Godd’s Profile on Match.Com

 

Hi!  Thank you for considering me.  Though I’m not tall, dark and handsome, I count my blessings that I don’t look like George Burns.  But the good news is – –  YOU needn’t have the face of an Angel either.  Just be a good person.  I would describe my personality as follows:   Wise (Proverbs 3:19; Romans 16:26-27) Righteous and Just (Deuteronomy 32:4; Psalm 11:7; Psalm 119:137) and Gracious (Exodus 34:6).

I have just a few rules I would like for my Perfect Match to follow, well there’s Ten really.  Be warned:  There could be Hell to pay if you don’t abide by them.  But we can talk about that on our first date.  And Holy Smokes, please be a non-smoker! As for what we’ll do together?  For G-d’s sake, please leave that in My Hands, too.  I have a Grand Plan.  But we won’t be going to hell in a handbasket, I can promise you that.

My hobbies are Walking on Water, Burning Bushes, Raising Hell and when it Freezes Over, I Pave the road to it with good intentions. I also enjoy keeping busy with arts and crafts because idle hands are the devil’s workshop. What am I looking for in a mate?  Just please don’t have a fiery temper like my last girlfriend – – Hell have no fury like a woman scorned.

After all of this, I thought we might be fairly compatible so I poked Godd and then gave him my phone number.  I even mentioned I was excited to meet him with a few exclamation points.   I got this text back from him:

No OMG’s pls.

That was followed by another message, which made me think he might be the jealous type.

i  m only 1 4 u. seriously! no 1 b4 me.

We set up a time/place to meet and I must say at first I was rather disappointed.   As is usual for these dating sites,  Godd did not resemble his image at all.  They must not have been recent pics.  And he had a little paunch.  I betcha he snored, too.

But then Godd confessed.   He was not  “Almighty.”  He was only just sorta, “Alrighty.”  It seems he wasn’t getting any responses to his ordinary profiles when he had put down his true description of, “Odd”  – –  so one day he added the “G” just for fun.   The results had been life-changing.   He immediately felt like God’s Gift to Women.

I was actually relieved.  The original way was just far too much pressure.  But now . . . well my being “Quirky” and him being “Odd” seemed like it could work.  I mean we could possibly be a match.  Just not a match made in heaven, of course.

If you want to send a message to G-d, you can do so by clicking  HERE

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/moon/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How I Came THIS Close to Getting Freshly Pressed !!

photo-350I’ve been doing a lot of research on how to get it to happen . . . the pinnacle experience here on WordPress – – the honor of having your blog post exposed to millions of new readers.  It’s called “Freshly Pressed.”

I came to the conclusion that there’s nothing a writer can do to make it happen . . . except maybe pray.

With that in mind, Here are the Steps I Took Towards my Goal:

MY FRESHLY PRESSED STRATEGY

1.  I went to my House of Worship today and when I got there, the clergy put his hands over my head and uttered some holy words about my Blog.  Freshly Blessed!

2.  I then knelt down and admitted I had told a few friends I had 50,000 Followers.   Freshly Confessed!

3.  He then pronounced me a little crazy eyed, kinda guilty – – maybe “the devil made me do it?”  Freshly Possessed!

4.  While I was there he also healed some of my other ailments, including Writer’s Block.  Freshly Convalesced!

5.  I went home to prepare for a date with another writer and put on a clean skirt.  Freshly Dressed!

6.  The writer showed me his new book and I oohed and awed.  Freshly Impressed!

7.  Feeling inferior, I got up to leave – – but he asked me to stay.  I reluctantly sat down.  Freshly Acquiesced!

8.  We ordered roasted chicken and I took my favorite part – – the white meat.  Freshly Breast!

9.  He rapidly took my hands, looked into my eyes briefly, and in a big hurry said he’d call me soon.  Freshly Expressed!

10.  I did my best sexy old movie star impression and drawled, “Why doncha come up and see me sometime?”  Freshly Mae West

11.  That made him embrace me, running his hands slowly down my backside.  Freshly Caressed!

12.  When I drove home, I couldn’t stop thinking about his muscular arms, shoulders and chest. Freshly obsessed!

13. I stepped hard on the gas pedal as I began to feel anxious that he wouldn’t call again.  Freshly Stressed!

14.  The cop asked if I knew how fast I was going?  I was unsure, but tried to estimate. 65 mph?  Freshly Guessed!

15.   When he said he was going to write me up, I began to argue.  Freshly Protest!

16.  Then he handed me the ticket and I made a recommendation of where he could stick it.  Freshly Suggest!

17.  He didn’t like that and took out his handcuffs.  Freshly Arrest!

18.  I asked him to sing to me, reminding him that people get a last wish before they go to jail.  Freshly Request!

19.  He changed into his costume, (white sequined pants, sunglasses) and put on a long, black famous wig.  Freshly Tressed!

This was the moment I had been waiting for!  I knew it would finally happen.  As I watched him gyrate his hips to Jailhouse Rock, he transformed into a brand new, updated version of  “Elvis, The King!”  And that’s when I realized, (I was never getting Freshly Pressed.  Nope!)  I was getting  “Presley Freshed!”

And now I remain Freshly Depressed.

 

“Thank you.  Thank you very much!”

 

 

 

 

Men At Work (Never Date These Guys!)

blog 1What are the worst professions to have a relationship with?   Most of you know I’ve been divorced twice now and careers seem to have caused a lot of tension in the union.  When a Creative Writer (me) marries a Technical Writer (him), she should be prepared to have her entire life edited.  The first red (literally red!) flag was when he took his red pen to our wedding vows. But I’ve had my grocery lists, daily planner, and tooth fairy notes to our kids proofread as well.  Love letters that I thoughtfully composed were returned to me with the comment, “Couple of run-on sentences, but otherwise a great first draft!”  He told me “i before e except after c” so many times, I finally changed the spelling of my name to “Stephanei,” just to irritate him.

The husband before him was an engineer.  Not the easygoing kind of engineer who makes the train go, “Choo-Choo.”  No, he was an   Electrical Engineer  that designed chips, (nothing to do with salsa, by the way)  but I can’t talk about his career because he holds some sort of Top Secret Security Clearance, which I always suspected means he just runs a big hush-hush yearly sale at Walmart.

Here then, in no particular order, (and certainly not in the order that they dumped me!) are the different fields of work I’ve had the experience of dating and my “sparse and neutral” comments that follow.

Vague, Vapid, Volatile, Vexing Vocations

 

Owner Of a Merry Maid Service – – And these weren’t just joyful women who cleaned during the Christmas season either.  This fastidious man had a Maid Brigade of housekeepers at his beck and call – –  so of course, he could never find out that he had a messy girlfriend.  Or that the song playing in my house was “Another One Invites the Dust!” Or that my one and only use for a  broom was being swept off my feet.   I scrubbed more surfaces in that one hour before he was due over my condo than a surgeon does in a lifetime.  (Note: I never dated a surgeon)  I even discarded old, tattered recipes for Sloppy Joes.  Days before our dinner date, I wore white gloves so I wouldn’t fingerprint my glass table or mirrors.  And then it happened.  With just ten minutes before his arrival, my vacuum broke.   So I did what any girl would do hoping to impress a Neatnik.  I got out the salad tongs and ran them over every rug in every room in the house, making those telltale tracks for that “just Hoovered” look.  Of course when it came time to serve my first course, there were gold shag carpet fibers tossed in with his lettuce.  Yes, not only was I a slob, but I was an outdated one who needed to redecorate.

Did you know these work as a vacuum in a pinch?

Did you know these work as a vacuum in a pinch?

The Police Officer – – Being a writer, I kept insisting he growl, “Throw the book at her!” in his meanest voice.  He was also disappointed when instead of racy bedroom fun with his handcuffs, I wouldn’t unlock them until he admitted that highway patrol officers really DO have a quota for giving traffic tickets.  I also worried that there would be telltale evidence around my apartment, so I wore those same white gloves (see above with the cleaning business man) in case he decided to lift my fingerprints off a wine goblet.   It was at that point that I thought of having a threesome.  The officer could frisk me and proudly announce to Merry Maid Guy, “She’s clean.” What a turn-on.

The Magician – – This relationship started off bad – – He was the entertainer on a cruise ship and his first trick of the evening was making his wedding ring vanish.  Meanwhile the only thing I ever learned to make disappear was the midnight chocolate buffet.   But still he persisted in dating me, sadistically refusing to teach me his secrets while enjoying my frustration over how the sawed-in-half lady’s pedicure always stayed so pretty.   But I got even with him – – one Father’s Day, I replaced his Presto-Change-O color growing necktie with a boring paisley one on sale at Sears.  Before the big cocktail party in his home, he asked me to make sure he had a full deck of cards – –  so I covered his patio with Get Well, Happy Birthday, and “Congratulations on Your Retirement” Hallmark greetings.  Next I velcroed odd items inside the hem of his costume that would come loose at inopportune moments.  Maybe he didn’t have anything up his sleeves, but out of his pant legs tumbled rubber bands, gluesticks and pieces of duct tape.  For his grand finale, he pulled a rabbit out of a hat . . . with a condom on its tail.  Needless to say, at the end of his act (as family and friends clapped half-heartedly) he bowed out of our relationship in a puff of smoke.

That would be the last time he pulled out a coin from underneath my dress.

That would be the last time he pulled out a coin from underneath my dress.

Barney Rubble – – Before he was married to Betty, I went out with him a few times until his laugh drove me berserk.  Okay,  so I was just seeing if you were paying attention my Dear Reader!  And also if you believe I’m old enough to have lived in the Stone Age.  But I’m not in that generation;  it was really his son, Bam-Bam I went steady with.  And I was literally quite broken-up when he broke up with me using that club of his.

The Accountant – –  This guy put an ad on Match.com saying he was looking for his female counterpart – – the perfect Bookkeeper.  I dragged my entire series of hardbound Nancy Drew’s out of the garage and lined them up alphabetically against a handsome shelf on my living room wall.  He wasn’t impressed.  When I learned foreplay would consist of balancing my checkbook for hours on end, I knew we were finished.

The Chiropractor:  His best pick-up line – – “Don’t worry baby, I got your back.”  But when he found out I was too scared to let him adjust any part of my body, he told me I needed an attitude adjustment and walked (perfectly straight) out the door.

The Attorney/Professional Chef:  If that isn’t a winning combo, I don’t know what is.  He thought I was cute when I asked him if “that was a docket in his pocket or he was just happy to see me?”  But eventually the burden of proof was on me to show him I could cook.  Exhibit A was charred beyond recognition, and my kitchen smelled so bad, he had to ask, “May I approach the stench?”  But when I couldn’t even make a decent cup of coffee, that caused a latte of problems and was grounds for a break-up.

Orthodontist – – An unful”filling” relationship because he never appreciated my biting sense of humor.  There were just far too many puns to be made in this relationship, so I braced myself for getting on his nerves.  But as it turns out, many romantic moments were ruined as he gazed into my eyes and inquired if I ever thought of doing a little something with my endearing overbite?  Ignoring what I blatantly told him I thought of doing at the moment, he instead suggested a retainer.  A retainer??!  That’s when I fantasized about another perfect threesome with the Lawyer!   He could sue the orthodontist for incisor trading and as a witness, I could solemnly swear to tell the tooth and nothing but the tooth.

Owner of Kraft Inc. – – It should be quite obvious after reading this blog, my perfect match is with a man who appreciates cheesy writing. It seems I have become a bit obsessed with puns lately.

 

What’s your profession and which ones have you found you are quite incompatible with?

 

Move Over “Toy Story…” Here’s Some Food For Thought!

The worst kind of abuse!

The worst kind of abuse!

Oscar:  Come to order, please.  We’re about to hear from Betty, our first brave guest speaker of the day, (a mixed-up victim who was beaten by a stir-crazy individual.  Then she was whipped, burned, and hot candle wax was dripped on her while a roomful of people sang a happy chorus) But first I’d like to make a motion to change the name of our support group.  We know about Drug and Alcohol Abuse, falling under the umbrella of “Substance Abuse.”  So I thought we could call ourselves. . .

Betty:  (groaning)  Oh please.  Not “Grubstance Abuse.”  That is just so cheesy.

Oscar Meyer:  Simmer down.  I suppose you have a batter idea, Mrs. Crocker?

Betty:  Yes!  We want our just desserts.  Not everyone is light and white like an Angel cake.  There is some Devil’s food out there too.  And that’s pudding it mildly. We’ve got to stop this black and white thinking.  If only we could have marbled cake everyday.

Oscar Meyer:  Well, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

Betty:  (challenging)  You wanna piece of me??

Oscar Meyer:  Mrs Crocker?  You really take the cake.  Moving on.  Yes?  You have the table floor, Minnie.

Minnie – – (tiny voice)  Sorry, I know that was just the icing on the cake.  But all of us – –  Mini-muffins, mini quiche, mini tacos, mini crabcakes and mini hotdogs – – (oh dear,  I hope I didn’t leave out any delicious hors d’oevres?) – – we are so tired of being discriminated against as appetizers, sometimes even called Appeteazers!  Bite-Size can be a real meal, too.

Oscar Meyer:  We’ll have to put that on the back-burner for now.  But please don’t think I’m taking it with a grain of salt.  The children’s portion issue is no small potatoes and causes more than a little damage to your elf-esteem.  Next up, I see we have a drinking problem

Smooth Talker:  The trend of mixing fruit, yogurt and ice (who feels totally crushed, by the way) together, then selling it as a Smoothie has really caused us some Blender Confusion.  And the mixture should be gray, but maybe a little more slate, so we’re taken seriously.

Oscar Meyer:  What’s the difference?  Gray or Slate?  You’re still healthy.  And your point?  Besides just juicy conversation?

Smooth Talker:  If we poured our hearts out in a fancy dessert dish and served it with a spoon instead of a straw – – Maybe we could hold a “Parfait Pride Parade.”

Oscar Meyer:  Yeah, I’m gonna have to put an Enda to your Blenda Agenda.  Next!

Egbert:  (exclaiming)  I’d like to expose my extensive expertise to examine an example of extreme exploitation and extermination of Eggs.  We’re not exactly being coddled or lightly steamed, you know.  Sometimes we’re also cracked open, beaten, separated and then smothered.  Everyone thinks that it’s over-easy for us.  But our philosophy is spare the rod, (soft)boil the child.

They make an eggcellent case!

They make an eggcellent case!

Oscar Meyer:  Thank you.  But the Eggistentionalist group meets down the hallway.

Filbert:  Can I cashew you a question?

Oscar Meyer:  If almond-erstanding you correctly, anyone nut taking allergies seriously will end up in a peanutentiary.  I walnut tolerate jokes.  We’re hot on the trail (mix) of repeanut offenders.  What’s next on our schedule?

Splenda Sucralose:  It’s the Artificial Sweeteners, Sir.  We’re not allowed in any songs.

Oscar Meyer:  Oh c’mon now, Honeybunch.

Splenda Sucralose:  It’s true, Sir.  The Sugar-Free population is getting the torte end of the stick.

Oscar Meyer:  How so, Sweetheart?

Splenda Sucralose:  We’re not mentioned in The Archies song (Sugar, Sugar – You Are My Candy Girl) and we never got to bid “Bye-Bye” to Miss American Pie.  Not to mention Mary Poppins banned us by the spoonful from helping the medicine go down.

Let the chips fall where they may!

Let the chips fall where they may!

Nabisco:  Well I find that a bit hard to swallow.  There’s no life harder than that of a chocolate-chip cookie.  Sorry if I spoke out of turn, but this is my first time here.

Oscar Meyer:  Ha!  He’s new. Well, that’s the way the Rookie crumbles, my man.  And you don’t really have any bargaining chips here.  Let’s see, our next order of business . . . We’re skipping Breakfast, because the toast has gone awry, (he figured out which side his bread was buttered on) but can anyone give the other food groups a lift back to their house?

Lox:  Yes,  I can bring home the bacon.  But while we’re talking about the most important meal of the day, I’m campaigning to save the smoked salmon from mating with cream cheese. There are plenty of other fish in the sea, you know – –  bagels should be more open-minded.

Oscar Meyer:  I don’t mean to poke a hole in your theory, but there’s very little margarine of error.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, We’re out of thyme, so we’re going to move on to the most important topic for me.   Hot-Dogs.  A ridiculously overlooked source of protein.

Samuel Adams:  But Sir, we never got to discuss any alcoholic beverages.

Spuds:  Or the difference between regular potatoes or sweet potatoes.

Hebrew National:  And Kosher Products?

Oscar Meyer:  Frank-ly  My Beer, I don’t give a Ham! (or a Yam!)

Lox to Betty (hushed voices)  Someday he’s gonna find out Life isn’t an “All You-Can-Meat” buffet.

Ketchup on the Gossip!

Ketchup on the Gossip!

Spuds to Chip (whispering) Yeah, nobody’s gonna save his buns when he meets his maker baker.

Scallions/Shallots  (re-scentfully)  Hey everybody!  Now that you woke up and smelled the coffee,  I’m starting a new group out of my kitchen.  It’s called “So What Am I. . . Chopped Liver?  (& Onions?)

 

Have you written a personification piece?  They really make me smile!  Feel free to link yours in my comments if you wanna share with others.  Oh and check out this recent terrific one about dogs!  Not hot-dogs – – canines!

What Dogs Think About Humans