This Thanksgiving I Really Resent . . . (and I won’t be content till I vent, lament, torment, and misrepresent!)

pumpy
An Anti-Thanksgiving Poem Which You Should Promptly Delete!
Today while everyone else is cultivating their sweet gratitude attitude,
I thought I’d allow myself a little latitude with a selfish magnitude.
Because I have oppositional syndrome, I’m celebrating in reversal.
So don’t take this as the final draft, when it might be just rehearsal.
It IS politically correct to complain on this day honoring poultry . . .
If you can disguise it in the rhymes of some pretty lame poetry.
So here goes — are you ready for all the things which I’m NOT thankful still exist?
This is the stuff I’ve dismissed, tried to resist, blacklist, or that just gets me pissed.
That last “P” word is one of them — someone just uttered it and my body cringed.
It’s worse than putting mushrooms in the stuffing — which also gets me unhinged.
That rubbery fungus is bad enough growing rampant on my front lawn,
But not as tragic as someone saying my blog always makes them yawn.
Are you getting the idea this verse is nothing more than all my pet peeves?
Housework, bills, lice, headaches, aging, screaming kids, rats, and thieves!
All plagues from which I wish I could get granted some lengthy reprieves.
But nothing holds a candle to what makes me feel the most defeated.
And that’s 85° weather in November and a house that’s overheated!
I live in a place where fall and winter have permanently retired,
And year-round scorching temps make air-conditioning required.
Sweating, dehydration, wrinkles, skin cancer — do we really need this much sun?
If you’re getting bored with my redundancy, relax cuz I think I’m almost done.
And so you must forgive my inconsiderate, ungrateful, lunatic rant and rave,
You’d feel justified too if burning weather melted your sanity into an early grave.
In fact today I needn’t even dirty a pot, turn on my stove, or open my oven door.
It’s so friggin’ hot, I can cook the whole Thanksgiving feast on my ever lovin’ floor!
READERS: Now that I’ve boiled over with my unpleasant, toxic post — I want to sincerely wish each one of you a very cool (physically and metaphorically) Thanksgiving holiday. Enjoy!
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What’s in Your Bag? (a guessing game!)

photo-244Some Ladies magazines do a column, “What’s inside a certain Celebrity’s designer bag?”  It usually features hints on what products to buy – –  so you too can look just like the actual movie star!  But we know better than to think that carrying a designer keychain like Jennifer Aniston will have us carrying her gorgeous figure too.   But today, in honor of Spring Cleaning (Whoever thought that concept up had far too much time on HIS hands)  I have decided to go through my own bag.  But why should I stop there??

 

Checking out my bag today, what the heck’s in my purse?

Wouldn’t it be all the more fun to describe it in verse?

There’s lipstick, mascara, & crumbly pink blush,

Chewing Gum, a Birthday Tiara to feel Royal in a rush.

Saltines and single serve apples, pummeled to mush,

And a stray tampon in packaging marked, “Please Do Not Flush.”

Where’s the gift cards, the American Express, the cold, hard cash?

Just a few coins, wrinkled tissues, and some creme for diaper rash.

That’s kinda funny, when my “baby” is old enough to curse.

But just when I think rummaging can’t get much worse . . .

From a funeral yesterday, I have a business card for a hearse?

Where's the beef??

Where’s the beef??

Moving on to my kitchen, what’s going down in my Fridge?

Aside from greenish Provalone (and hey that’s just a Smidge!)

Besides, I assert to my family, if the truth were to be told…

Where do you think cheese comes from, if not from a bit of mold?

On the Top Shelf, you can see “Top Chef” has obviously been fired,

Hardened Kraft macaroni (and more cheese!) leaves little to be desired.

Oh wait!  He wasn’t laid-off – – he tossed his white puffy hat and promptly retired.

After all, what’s left to prepare when the eggs and the butter have expired?

In the produce drawer, (like my purse!) exists apples, but I use the term loosely,

Let’s just say there’s no need for a blender to get fruit in this house juicely.

Tupperware = the Family Game, “Guess what lives in here for your dinner?”

Who needs Weight Watchers?  This is the most effective way to get thinner.

One last look at the freezer’s contents, and I turned and I smiled,

“We’re eating out tonight, kids – – next life you should be born to Julia Child.”

It's an Auto Buffet!

It’s an Auto Buffet!

But just when I thought it was safe for us to pile in behind the wheel,

Under the passenger’s side, I found part of a McDonald’s Happy Meal.

But a mother’s instinct sensed I should probably take another peek…

And lo and behold, out rolled a carton of yogurt and it was actually Greek!

But I ask you, what else would you expect from a mother this chic?!?

In the seat pockets, were napkins, cups and silverware galore,

Ketchup packs, soda cans and french fries littered the car floor.

In the glove compartment were remnants of steak cooked by flame,

I’ll tell you, this gourmet vehicle really put my refrigerator to shame.

So I cranked up the Bee Gees and flickered on and off the interior light.

“Welcome to Mom’s Disco” I said, “We’re eating in the Toyota tonight!”