8 Devious (But Well Justified) Food Tricks All Parents Should Know!

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This is pretty cute, Family Magazine– but you don’t need a masters degree in Art to utilize my simple food tricks below!

The following tricks are divided into two categories, both equally indispensable. The first section is to help YOU eat whatever you want left alone in peace, and sans guilt. The second part is to assist you in getting your children to eat healthier fare. Paradoxical? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely.

FOR YOU:

  1. Bottom’s Up: In private, turn any unfrosted cake, (Bundt, pound or loaf, etc.) onto its side and proceed to ingeniously cut a thin slice from the bottom part for your indulgence. Using dental floss to shave it off is a great help with this feat but buy the unflavored kind unless you like mint with your angel food? Note: You can do this approximately four and a half times before the cake starts getting discernibly shorter and your guests’ brows raise as they begin to refer to it as a pie.
  2. The Latest From Paris: Spooning brownie batter into your mouth is actually more sinfully scrumptious than eating the fully baked confection itself. And virtually undetectable because who has ever seen a tall brownie? You can also just drink batter through a straw like you’re sipping on a luscious thick malt. Betty Crocker would make a fortune if she started packaging brownie mixes that stated, “8 extra spoonfuls included for mom’s sanity” printed under the ingredients.  However if the end result (your baked pan of brownies) drops below an 1/8 of an inch thick, a renaming will be in order. Say confidently at the dining table, “These are NOT brownies. They’re a trendy new dessert craze from France –“Brepes”….a combination of crepes and brownies. Wallah!
  3. Glamorous Goodies: If you’ve already gobbled cookies from a package that you just purchased that very afternoon (i.e. Oreos or Chips Ahoy) and you don’t want to hear “Mom! Who already ate these?” simply arrange the store bought treats on a pretty plate and set it on the table. Bonus points for sliding an elegant doily underneath. To avoid this scenario entirely in the future, buy only bagged cookies so nobody can count up (this isn’t why math is taught!) the vacant plastic slots and calculate how many Nutter Butters are missing.
  4. Caution Signs: Write stern little warnings that say, “Do NOT eat this. I’m saving for tomorrow night’s Bridge Club. Or Mahjong group. Or any other card game that Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz used to play that requires serving impressive refreshments. Warning: At this point you better at least learn about trumping and building walls so you can talk a good game the next evening when you whisk the baked goods off in your car to drive around the corner and luxuriate in solitude.

FOR THEM

  1. Deceptive Desserts:Trying to sneak anything healthy into your children by finely grating it into a sweet batter is so old school. Jerry Seinfeld’s wife did an entire book on this and then languished in Puree Hell. Kids are smart and will suspiciously examine their birthday cake for evidence of carrots or zucchini and give their muffins a watchful eye for applesauce. Anything pulverized will be immediately spat out. So reverse the process. Rather than pureeing the nutritious thing, puree the unhealthy thing and inject it deep inside. Example: Take a carrot, hollow it out and fill with minced or blended Hershey’s chocolate. The child will gleefully delight in avoiding the pureed center of the carrot (thinking that’s the nutritious part you’ve tried to pull one over on him with) and you’ve just scored a kid who won’t be called four-eyes. That is, if you believe old wives’ tales about carrots improving vision.
  2. Freud Who?:Remember Psych 101, Pavlov’s dog, and classical conditioning! Every time the child eats a chocolate chip cookie, ring a bell. The child will soon associate bells with pleasurable taste sensations. But after a while when the child’s guard is down, ring a bell as he eats oatmeal. Then salmon. And why not go for brussel sprouts? “Ring, ring!”  Disclaimer: Future Avon Ladies, playing Ding Dong Ditch, or reading “For Whom the Bell Tolls” may prove traumatizing for him later in life.
  3. What’s In a Name?: Do bizarre things with celery but forget Ants on a Log. That phrase just kills it. Who eats insects? Substitute chocolate chips for those raisins. Then give the kid a further break and swap peanut butter in for the cottage cheese. Relax mom, the original celery is still in the picture. But get a new and improved catchphrase, will ya? How about “Let the Chips Fall Where They May?” or “Chip off the Old Block.” You can do this!
  4. Great Expectations: Refrain from your rehearsed evil “mwahahaha” laugh when utilizing number 4 from the first section above, only with a clever variation. Make a similar sign stating, “Under no circumstances should you eat what’s wrapped in this tin-foil because it’s something very special for the PTA Bake Sale. Attach this sign to your leftover meatloaf, of course. But don’t bother pre-slicing it into cupcake wrappers — they’ll be expecting just that kind of deception.

Good luck and remember that whoever said, “All is fair in love and war” must’ve had to eat too, so he should’ve written a sequel bumper sticker that proclaimed, “All is fair in the Kitchen as well!”

Caught the Pokémon Go craze?  Go HERE to see how I’ve modified it to benefit Jewish (or any!) parents! And watch for my new app being released soon!

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12 Potluck Party Personalities! Which One Are You?

potluckThe holidays have officially descended upon us and with this time of year harkens the arrival of the Potluck Party. Whether it be held at the office, school, church, or a relative/friend’s private residence, you’ll likely encounter some variation of the following personas:

  1. Potluck Prepper: Always bringing something to the gathering that requires a ton of preparation time. Proceeds to annoy the busy host in her own kitchen by opening the refrigerator and commenting “sheesh, how do you function in here?” and then thinks nothing of barricading an entire counter with the layout of different toppings as she assembles her ugly lettuce wraps.
  2. Potluck Planters Peanut-er: We get it – – you work, have kids, didn’t sleep, were sick all week, and in general “your time is ultra-valuable” so the can of Planter’s peanuts is your fall-back. But people with nut allergies are not digging it. Switch to beef jerky.
  3. Potluck Patenter: Owns the original copyright, trademark and patent for spinach dip! And thusly, in the name of all holy condiments, will wage a strategic war of subterfuge if you dare bring the same dish as her. Will either: a) rearrange platters so your contribution is in the back row. b) start a rumor that you used expired sour cream. c) offer guests $1 incentive for each bite they ingest of her concoction, $2 per obnoxious lip smack and $5 to the person who loudly declares her The Royal Dip Queen.
  4. Potluck Preliminary Packager: Very worried that she won’t get to bring any of her grub back home at the end of the evening so will prematurely wrap up several servings under the guise that it’s So & So’s favorite thing in the entire world, but they couldn’t come tonight. Let’s call up So & So and just see about that, shall we? The jig is up- – this doggy-bag is actually FOR YOU!
  5. Potluck Plastic-er: Cannot be bothered to transfer the contents out of the carton that it originally came in.
  6. Potluck Pricetagger: Eager to show off what she spent on her gourmet donation. Sometimes unintentionally left on and it’s so mortifying for them to know that there’s a tell-tale red-tag clearance item, they’ll douse it with sauce or frosting.
  7. Potluck Pasta PickerOuter: Brings a spaghetti dish but realizes that there’s inadvertently mushrooms in the sauce! Stands over her contribution for twenty minutes, sifting out every last ghastly fungus, never thinking that other guests might love those disgusting, rubbery toadstools.**
  8. Potluck Prider: Makes a dramatic entrance coming in late and then a huge production setting down her entrée, often simulating a drum-roll and exclaiming, “At long last, the mac n’ cheese has arrived!”
  9. Potluck Puny Portioner: This personality grew up with food rations and even though they knew full well that the host was expecting 40 guests, brings a cheesecake that serves six. Throughout the evening, they are constantly emphasizing how RICH the dessert is, thus justifying their paper thin slices.
  10. Potluck Panic-er: This person lets the whole invitational food farce upset them so much (what can they possibly bring?  OMG!) that days before the event they cancel with a mother-in-law excuse. The mother-in-law passed away three years ago.
  11. Potluck Paprika-er: Has a philosophy that everything looks better with orangish/rust colored sprinkles on top. Will paprika anything from egg-salad to birthday cake.
  12. Potluck Pedestal Presentation-er: Highly skilled in the art of display. Owns the fanciest crystal bowls and sterling-silver footed cake plates. Has a strong believe that the appetite begins in the eyes, which is rooted in the fact that one of his parents was an ophthalmology chef.
  13. Potluck Putrid Prankster: Stays up nights thinking of the dish they can bring that will emit the foulest odor. It will contain limburger cheese.
  14. Potluck Punctuality Person (NOT!): Swears they will be on time but inevitably signs up for an appetizer and then arrives when desserts are served.
  15. Potluck Papergooder:  No matter how many varied food group choices are on the list to sign up for, this person consistently gravitates to either plates, cups or utensils. They simply feel they cannot be trusted with real food.
  16. Potluck Peter Piper Pickled Pepper: “Tongue-Twister” is their name and “burn your mouth off with HOT n’ SPICY” is their game!

4 Types of Potluck Party Planners!

(The hosts themselves can often be categorized!)

  1. Potluck Prayer:  A host that secretly does not want to return dishes and vessels to the guests who brought them and is actually praying that taking them into the kitchen under the guise of “washing them out” will lead to “out of sight, out of mind” and thus increase and strengthen their personal Tupperware arsenal.
  2. Potluck Pretender: Offers to hold a potluck under the guise that it’s laid back and easy. “Bring whatever you want, everything goes,” is their mantra at first.  This should be a red flag that the day before their affair, you’ll get a call where they insist in an ominous tone that five people are bringing brownies and if you do not bring something with protein in it, (preferably steak) you’ll be arrested by the Carb police.
  3. Potluck Piler:  The host who holds back an entire dish for his or her own use because it’s their favorite and they don’t know how to cook it themselves.  These people cannot help themselves.  They spy an incoming “cheese soufflé” and immediately think “I could bring this to Jody’s party this Sunday!” You can easily recognize them because they have bruises on their foreheads from where they slap themselves while loudly uttering, “Would you look at that!  I completely forgot to put out your Velveeta thingy.  But never fear, it shan’t go to waste around here.”
  4. Potluck Passive(aggressive-er):  Starts out choosing a seemingly innocent theme. Either It’s a Small World, Breakfast For Dinner or Finger Foods. As an example of their subversive, covert demeanor, let’s say you bring soup to this last theme above — They will reassure you that all is well, and that they adore chicken broth, then suddenly blurt out, “Well I guess now we all NEED spoons, don’t we?” followed by a loud clattering in the kitchen.

** If you couldn’t tell, the author is #7.

UPDATE!  Here’s a direct link to the following!  Scroll down and please vote for team Hickson!  Right HERE!   NEWS!  I have been participating in a special collaborator phase of an exciting contest called “A Star is Born” (produced by The Neighborhood’s Kendall F. Person) when I was truly honored to be asked to team up with the one and only hilariously funny man, Ned Hickson. The voting will take place in less than 24 hours (!) Sunday, Dec. 6th at 7 pm so just click HERE to support Team Hickson in our humorous antics because updates will be posted frequently and a link to vote will magically appear at 7 pm! 

21 Types of People You Meet at Thanksgiving Buffets

thanksgiving-buffet

What is it about standing in line for food that brings out the DMV in people?  This holiday season, whether you’re (smart and) eating out at a restaurant, serving the hearty meal in your own home, or partaking in the holiday at someone else’s house, chances are (unless the formal dining room is as large as the scene in a Norman Rockwell painting) people will likely be getting up from the main table to obtain food from what we call a “Buffet”

We do know this is pronounced Buffay, correct?  It’s not spoken like a line from a famous nursery rhyme.  “Little Miss Muffet sat on a Tuffet to eat at a Buffet!”  Right?

Now that we’ve cleared up the French influence on our language, you’re in luck.  Little Miss Menopause has some tips and rules to offer about Buffets, along with giving her thanks for your readership and putting up with an encore post today while she cooks for her sister-in-law’s buffet.

But first a little lesson on the types of individuals you are likely to encounter at a Buffet:

  1. A Buffeter Surveyer – – These are people who have read “helpful” articles with tips about losing weight during Thanksgiving and have come to view the offerings in their entirety prior to making their careful selections. They have been promised that if they have a calm, relaxed demeanor and a predetermined game plan approaching the Buffet, they will not gain five pounds. Most of these people will methodically walk the length of the buffet before diving in head first.  It’s best to back up and give them a running start.  Note:  If you’ve read the same articles, it’s far too late to remind them that using a salad size plate instead of entree size can fool the eye and trick the stomach.
  2. A Buffeter Overstayer – – They think of the buffet as their home base. They will continuously loiter, integrating all kinds of tasks into the buffet. Talking, eating, wiping, consulting, organizing, refilling, and generally becoming a permanent fixture at a buffet. They are not compatible with the next type…
  3. A Buffeter Get-out-of-my-Wayer! – – He means business.  Napkin tucked, first in line, and making appreciative sounds that make you wonder if a nearby barnyard has taken attendance recently.
  4. A Buffeter Prayer Sayer – – A religious woman who’s extremely graceful.  Literally.  She makes sure Grace has been said in all languages, in all cultures, as she prays for starving people everywhere. Very thoughtful too – – if there are leftovers she will pack a doggy-bag for God.
  5. A Buffeter Cabareter – – Usually a former preschool teacher who know lots of holiday songs and won’t hesitate to coerce people in line to join in with “Ten Little Indians” or “Pumpkin Pie in the Sky!” And you better at least lip synch when she divides you up into sections for her round of  “Gobble, Bobble, Wobble” or she’ll belt it all out on her own.
  6. A Buffeter Delayer – – You know they want food, they know they want food, but they will stay seated until the last person gets up, not wanting to appear overeager.  Then they will gossip until next year about how you didn’t prepare enough grub.
  7. A Buffeter Weigher – – Such a killjoy.  They recite calorie counts for everything and whip out their little kitchen scales to do an official cranberry calibration.
  8. A Buffeter Layerer – – This person is obsessed with rearranging the sumptuous spread and digging through layers of turkey or yams looking for who knows what.  Tongs are their favorite tool of choice but they can function just as well with a spatula too.
  9. A Buffeter Sprayer – – It would be less offensive if this person was merely having an allergy attack. But that’s usually not the case. Need I say more? I needn’t.
  10. A Buffeter Okayer – -You’ll not meet a more pleasant, jovial person in the line today. The answers to the following questions will always be “Okay!” 1. Can I go in front of you?  2. How’ve you been since last Thanksgiving?  3. Do you think I should goose cousin Cindy as she takes some goose?
  11. A Buffeter Trayer – – They frequent cruise ships and Las Vegas so they are professionals and bring their own tray.  It looks suspiciously like the one at Soup Plantation.  But it helps them with efficiency because balancing full plates is really not their thing.
  12. A Buffeter Bouqueter – – These are gardening people and if the hostess has thoughtfully decorated with floral centerpieces, that’s all they will talk about.  You’d think they would prefer Roasted Red Roses or Fried Fuschia Freesia to light or dark turkey parts.
  13. A Buffeter Betrayer – – Intimately acquainted with the hostess, they won’t hesitate to tell all they know. “That salad she claims is organic?  Nope.  And it’s a Costco pumpkin pie this year even if she’s claiming homemade.  Skip the sweet potatoes, she doesn’t wash the skins.” Etc.
  14. A Buffeter Clichér  – – Like the turkey, this guy’s vocabulary is stuffed full of stupid puns and double entendres. While staring at the carved bird, he’s bound to remark, “Looks scary….it’s a Goblin!” Or “I’m suddenly in a Fowl mood!”  Tell him you gave up laughing at stupid jokes ‘Cold Turkey’ and move along.
  15. A Buffeter Halfwayer – – They nearly get to the end of the food display when they realize they forgot to grab a ladle full of salad dressing some twelve platters ago. Now they’re gonna stand frozen and flummoxed in line, wondering how they can politely go backwards.  Say this: “Grandma, want me to get you some Ranch?” Problem solved.
  16. A Buffeter FoulPlayer – – If it’s accidental, it can be forgiven – –  but younger buffet-goers will drop a cherry tomato into the gravy to see if it floats or sinks.  That’s just the beginning of the havoc they can wreak and I hesitate to offer more examples lest I give them other ideas.
  17. A Buffeter OyVeyer – – Being Jewish, I’ve met more than my share. Starts with, “Oy Vey, my doctor says my triglycerides are sky high lately.”  Ask them what a triglyceride is and they’ll just sigh deeply and say, “Oy Vey, I really shouldn’t be eating that.” or worse, “Oy Vey, should YOU really be eating that??”
  18. A Buffeter Résumér – – Ambitious souls! They might even hand you a written resumé as proof to what they contributed to this feast. It will contain bullet points. “Experienced giblet gravy maker. Team player who brings innovative and fresh ingredients to the workplace.”
  19. A Buffeter Essayer – – Someone who goes around observing and interviewing people in line at buffets in the hopes of writing a funny blog post because she has nothing better to put out on Thanksgiving. The nerve.
  20. A Warren Buffett Buffeter — You’ll lose your appetite because he’s going to talk about the economy. From Soup Overspending to Nut Capitalists.
  21. A Jimmy Buffetter Buffeter — Related to the Buffeter Cabareter (above) but you’ll truly be impressed with how much of the “Wasting Away in Margaritaville” lyrics they actually know. “Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame, but I know, it’s my own damn fault. . . ” is only the beginning!

That blonde in the lower left is about to get her fingers slammed in the chafing dish lid. Not just chaffed, SLAMMED!

(The blonde in the lower left above is about to get chaffed by that chafing dish!)

And now for some quick rules.  Just a few though, because everyone knows the rule is “there’s no rules on Thanksgiving!”

Don’t Go Astray And Disobey the Array of the Display at the Buffet!   (The 10 Commandments)

1.  Thou Shalt Not Cut The Line – – I know, I know….you just want seconds on the lamb.  But isn’t that a different holiday food anyhow?

2.  Thou Shalt Not Switch Direction: Buffets go in one direction only. Don’t start making your way through the line from the opposite direction. A big hint — you will find yourself carrying food in your hands because the plates are on the other side.

3. Thou Shalt Watch Thy Children: Always escort young children, say 10 or younger, to the buffet. And give them second helpings of the creamed acorn squash in the hopes that one of the ingredients is Valium or Xanax.

4. Thou Shalt Keep Thy Fingers to Thyself: Kids aren’t the only offenders here. Adults are just as likely to get excited and grab something quickly because nobody is looking.  I see you.  I always see you.

5. Thou Shalt Not Move Tongs: Never, ever move the tongs from one platter or hot food station to another. What if the person behind you has allergies to shrimp and you’ve just moved the tongs from a shrimp dish to a turkey dish? What if that person is kosher or vegetarian?  Ever think of that you “Tong Trader” you?  Need a gentle reminder?  Hum the “It’s just Wrong to move a Tong” song.  Don’t know that one?  Make friends with the preschool teacher who sings in buffet lines mentioned above.

6. Thou Shalt Not Eat in Line:  It’s amazing how many people you run into who are suddenly extremely diabetic or hypoglycemic and must have their food right NOW at a buffet.

7. Thou Shalt Not Take More Than Thou Can Eat: Buffet dining, by its very nature, is gluttonous, but that doesn’t mean you have to be! “If you’re a glutton with the mutton, you’ll need to move your shirt button! La, la, la, la!”  Okay, so I dine with a certain preschool teacher quite often!  Similarly, don’t take the last baked potato because it’s rude to leave the people behind you with an empty serving tray.  If you do, stealthily stick up a little sign that says, “Kilroy was here” so they can at least laugh at their ill-fortune.

8. Thou Shalt Use a New Plate Each Time: If you go back for seconds, leave your original plate at the table and get a fresh one each time.  Why this is, I’ll never know . . .  but I get admonished for it all the time.  (Perhaps a hygiene specialist can elaborate on how this could cause cross-contamination in the comment section?)

9. Thou Shalt Wash Thy Hands: Sticking with the cleanliness theme, always wash your hands before getting in the buffet line. You might not be touching the food directly, but you will be handling the serving utensils.  And I actually GET this one, so no explaining in the comments section will be necessary,  you Germaphobes.)

10. Thou Shalt Not Make a Doggie Bag: Don’t even think to ask.  There are no doggie bags at buffets, NO exceptions. A napkin squirreled quickly away inside your purse will always suffice. Men without handbags are outa luck and will need to be super nice to their wives for leftovers back home.

Arranging a buffet? Why that’s just child’s play!!

It was not beyond me to do this at a Buffet.  Yes, food was served inside wagons, dump-trucks, watering cans, pails and eaten with shovels.  Rest easy, it was for a kid's party!

 

10 Gourmet Specialties For Hungry Bloggers!

FullSizeRender (9)I’m opening a new restaurant which will cater to Bloggers everywhere. Here are some of the highly recommended dishes.

        MENU

1.  Bloghetti & Tweetballs

2. “All You Can View” Stew served in a Writer’s Block Crock pot.

3.  Allegory Albacorey Tuna on Spellcheck Spelt

4.  Hacked Halibut w/ Plagiarized Potatoes & Tender AsPUNagus Tips

5.  Posted Eggs, Edited Over Easy. Served with Permalink sausage with choice of (depending how your writing is going) Belgium Awfuls or Fancakes, drizzled with Blog Cabin Syrup.

6.  Quotation Quinoa Quiche with Jumbled, Crumbled, Stumbled-Upon Mumbo Jumbo Gumbo

7.  Choice of Mixed Metaphor Mesclun salad OR Cliched Clam Chowder – – served with a butter-me-up flaky blogroll.

8.  So You Think You’ve Posted the Holy Grail Lobster Tail? (served with corny kale!)

9.  Dangling Participle Pasta – – Garnished w/ Grated Gravitar Graphics

10. Sauteed Jumbo Shrimp Daily Prawnmpts with Freshly Pressed Garlic and Cleverly Clarified Butter

11. Asian Typing Tai Pei with Wasabi Widgets

 STARVING WRITER’S SPECIAL: Blank Screens Frank & Beans with Wordless Watermelon

AFTER YOUR MEAL, Please Enjoy . . . 

Keyword Keylime Pie

Simile Spumoni

Deleted Donuts

Ping-Back Pumpkin Pie

Published Plum Pudding

Dashboard Cheeseboard

Expressive Espresso

Italian Italicized Ice

OR . . . we could always just eat our own words.

 

How To Be SUPER Popular at the Super Bowl Party! (even if you don’t know football)

Don't Make this!  Nobody is gonna thank you enough for the time you spend on these goal posts!

Don’t Make this! Nobody is gonna thank you enough for the time you spend on these goal posts!

HOPE FOR THE IGNORED GUEST!  DON’T BE LEFT OUT ON THE SIDELINES!

1. Make Guacamole. Just do this. Trust me. Even if you’re out of avocados. Use kiwis. These people won’t notice – – they’ll just keep dipping and dipping while hollering at that TV . . . The Big Dips.

2. Never say this – – “I don’t know why you folks don’t just record this stuff and watch it later so you can fast forward through all these silly commercials.” Never. Ever.

3. Football fans are an exuberant bunch. But they know their terminology. Before you attempt to chime in during an actual live play of the ball game, experiment with a commercial. (see # 2 to grasp the importance of Advertising) Try the following options: A) Clap uproariously at a Clydesdale. B) Shout, “Hold ’em! That’s the way!” to a Victoria’s Secret model. C) Throw a chip at the television and say, “Doritos?! They suck this year! My money’s on the Lays.”  D)  Boo loudly at “Go Daddy!”  They deserve it.

4. Casually introduce conversation with, “So how about that Joe Namath?” If this doesn’t get the reaction you are looking for, tell them you were a cheerleader for your brother in Pop Warner leagues. Note: This will only be effective if you can produce a photo. Still nothing? Remind them you brought the guacamole.

5. Wait until intermission to pass out copies of your latest Huffington Post blog. In case you don’t recognize when that occurs, it will be called, “Half Time.” One whole game = four quarters or two halves or forty nickels. I am still not sure if a Susan B. Anthony silver dollar might fit in with their formula or not.

6. If you are tired, don’t be offensive and yawn. Play defensively! Simply look at the clock (lower right hand side of the television screen) and if it says (only!) 2 minutes and thirty seconds are left in the game, you will now have time to play an entire game of Monopoly.

7. Look around for other wives and girlfriends that have that “I’m so bored, I could throw-up” green pallor on their face. Look closely. This could just be the guacamole. Engage them in a fashion review of the game. Tell them that you think shoulder pads and tight ankle pants are so 80’s. Casually remark, “Hey, I know what!! Let’s go in the other room and compose a Match.com ad for ourselves.”

8. You will eventually need to choose a side and root for them. Lemme help you. If you don’t mind rainy weather, I’d go with the Seahawks. Feeling patriotic? The Patriots are your men! Just don’t cheer for the guys with the black and white vertical pinstripes — they usually just stand around a lot.

9. Right about now, you’re probably ready to toss out some authentic, sporty vocabulary during the actual game. Wait until the room is in some sort of an uproar over a bad call, then holler, “A noose, a tree . . . let’s hang the referee!” It’s always safe to pick on a man who doesn’t weight 285 lbs, carries a whistle, and speaks in pantomime.

10. If none of this is working for you, continue nodding and being polite, offering all the uptight, nervous pacing men (and other guests who come in late) your spot on the sofa. Do this until every seat in the house is taken and you have to sit on the toilet in the bathroom. Bring guacamole.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday!

PS.  If you’re still bored watching the game, you can read my very first SERIOUS published article on The Huffington Post right HERE.  It’s about divorce.

Your Holiday Buffet. . . Will it Include Warren Buffett?

pumpkin pieWhat is it about standing in line for food that brings out the DMV in people?  This holiday season, whether you’re (smart and) eating out at a restaurant, serving the hearty meal in your own home, or partaking in the holiday at someone else’s house, chances are the scene will not resemble a Norman Rockwell painting. People will be getting up from the main table to obtain food from what we call a “Buffet.”

We do know this is pronounced Buffay, correct?  It’s not spoken like a line from a famous nursery rhyme.  “Little Miss Muffet sat on a Tuffet to eat at a Buffet!”  Right?

Now that we’ve cleared up the French influence on our language, you’re in luck!  Little Miss Menopause has some tips and rules to offer about Buffets, along with giving her thanks for your readership!

But first a little lesson on the types of individuals you are likely to encounter at a Buffet:

A Buffeter Surveyer – – These are people who have read “helpful” articles with tips about losing weight during Thanksgiving and have come to view the offerings in their entirety prior to making their careful selections. They have been promised that if they have a calm, relaxed demeanor and a predetermined game plan approaching the Buffet, they will not gain five pounds. Most of these people will methodically walk the length of the buffet before diving in head first.  It’s best to back up and give them a running start.  Note:  If you’ve read the same articles, it’s far too late to remind them that using a salad size plate instead of entree size can fool the eye and trick the stomach.

A Buffeter Overstayer – – They think of the buffet as their home base. They will continuously loiter, integrating all kinds of tasks into the buffet. Talking, eating, wiping, consulting, organizing, refilling, and generally becoming a permanent fixture at a buffet. They are not compatible with the next type…

A Buffeter Get-out-of-my-Wayer! – – He means business.  Napkin tucked, first in line, and making appreciative sounds that make you wonder if a nearby barnyard has taken attendance recently.

A Buffeter Prayer Sayer – – A religious woman who’s extremely graceful.  Literally.  She makes sure Grace has been said in all languages, in all cultures, as she prays for starving people everywhere. Very thoughtful too – – if there are leftovers she will pack a doggy-bag for God.

A Buffeter Cabareter – – Usually a former preschool teacher who know lots of holiday songs and won’t hesitate to coerce people in line to join in with “Ten Little Indians” or “Pumpkin Pie in the Sky!” And you better at least lip synch when she divides you up into sections for her round of  “Gobble, Bobble, Wobble” or she’ll belt it all out on her own.

A Buffeter Delayer – – You know they want food, they know they want food, but they will stay seated until the last person gets up, not wanting to appear overeager.  Then they will talk until next year about how you didn’t prepare enough grub.

A Buffeter Weigher – – Such a killjoy.  They recite calorie counts for everything and whip out their little kitchen scales to do an official cranberry calibration.

A Buffeter Layerer – – This person is obsessed with rearranging the sumptuous spread and digging through layers of turkey or yams looking for who knows what.  Tongs are their favorite tool of choice but they can function just as well with a spatula too.

A Buffeter Sprayer – – It would be less offensive if this person was merely having an allergy attack. But that’s usually not the case. Need I say more? I needn’t.

A Buffeter Okayer – -You’ll not meet a more pleasant, jovial person in the line tomorrow. The answers to the following questions will always be “Okay!” 1. Can I go in front of you?  2. How’ve you been since last Thanksgiving?  3. Do you think I should goose cousin Cindy as she takes some goose? 

A Buffeter Trayer – – They frequent cruise ships and Las Vegas so they are professionals and bring their own tray.  It looks suspiciously like the one at Soup Plantation.  But it helps them with efficiency because balancing full plates is really not their thing.

A Buffeter Bouqueter – – These are gardening people and if the hostess has thoughtfully decorated with floral centerpieces, that’s all they will talk about.  You’d think they would prefer Roasted pale pink Roses or Fried Fuschia Freesia to light or dark turkey parts.

A Buffeter Betrayer – – Intimately acquainted with the hostess, they won’t hesitate to tell all they know. “That salad she claims is organic?  Nope.  And it’s a Costco pumpkin pie this year.  Skip the sweet potatoes, she doesn’t wash the skins.” Etc.

A Buffeter Clichér  – – Like the turkey, this guy’s vocabulary is stuffed full of stupid puns and double entendres. While staring at the carved bird, he’s bound to remark, “Looks scary….it’s a Goblin!” Or “I’m suddenly in a Fowl mood!”  Tell him you gave up laughing at stupid jokes ‘Cold Turkey’ and move along. 

A Buffeter Halfwayer – – They nearly get to the end of the food display when they realize they forgot to grab a ladle full of salad dressing some twelve platters ago. Now they’re gonna stand frozen and flummoxed in line, wondering how they can politely go backwards.  Say this: “Grandma, want me to get you some Ranch?” Problem solved.

A Buffeter FoulPlayer – – If it’s accidental, it can be forgiven – –  but younger buffet-goers will drop a cherry tomato into the gravy to see if it floats or sinks.  That’s just the beginning of the havoc they can wreak and I hesitate to offer more examples lest I give them other ideas.

A Buffeter OyVeyer – – Being Jewish, I’ve met more than my share. Starts with, “Oy Vey, my doctor says my triglycerides are sky high lately.”  Ask them what a triglyceride is and they’ll just sigh deeply and say, “Oy Vey, I really shouldn’t be eating that.” or worse, “Oy Vey, should YOU really be eating that??”

A Buffeter Essayer – – Someone who goes around observing and interviewing people in line at buffets in the hopes of writing a funny blog post because she has nothing better to put out on Thanksgiving. The nerve.

A Jimmy Buffetter Buffeter — Related to the Buffeter Cabareter (above) but you’ll truly be impressed with how much of the “Wasting Away in Margaritaville” lyrics they actually know. “Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame, but I know, it’s my own damn fault. . . ” is only the beginning!

That blonde in the lower left is about to get her fingers slammed in the chafing dish lid. Not just chaffed, SLAMMED!

That blonde in the lower left is about to get her fingers slammed in the chafing dish lid. Not just chaffed, SLAMMED!

And now for some quick rules.  Just a few though, because everyone knows the rule is “there’s no rules on Thanksgiving!”

Don’t Go Astray And Disobey the Array of the Display at the Buffet!   (The 10 Commandments)

1.  Thou Shalt Not Cut The Line – – I know, I know….you just want seconds on the lamb.  But isn’t that a different holiday food anyhow?

2.  Thou Shalt Not Switch Direction: Buffets go in one direction only. Don’t start making your way through the line from the opposite direction. A big hint — you will find yourself carrying food in your hands because the plates are on the other side.

3. Thou Shalt Watch Thy Children: Always escort young children, say 10 or younger, to the buffet. And give them second helpings of the creamed acorn squash in the hopes that one of the ingredients is Valium or Xanax.

4. Thou Shalt Keep Thy Fingers to Thyself: Kids aren’t the only offenders here. Adults are just as likely to get excited and grab something quickly because nobody is looking.  I see you.  I always see you.

5. Thou Shalt Not Move Tongs: Never, ever move the tongs from one platter or hot food station to another. What if the person behind you has allergies to shrimp and you’ve just moved the tongs from a shrimp dish to a turkey dish? What if that person is kosher or vegetarian?  Ever think of that you “Tong Trader” you?  Need a gentle reminder?  Hum the “It’s just Wrong to move a Tong” song.  Don’t know that one?  Make friends with the preschool teacher who sings in buffet lines mentioned above.

6. Thou Shalt Not Eat in Line:  It’s amazing how many people you run into who are suddenly extremely diabetic or hypoglycemic and must have their food right NOW at a buffet.

7. Thou Shalt Not Take More Than Thou Can Eat: Buffet dining, by its very nature, is gluttonous, but that doesn’t mean you have to be! “If you’re a glutton with the mutton, you’ll need to move your shirt button! La, la, la, la!”  Okay, so I dine with a certain preschool teacher quite often!  Similarly, don’t take the last baked potato because it’s rude to leave the people behind you with an empty serving tray.  If you do, stealthily stick up a little sign that says, “Kilroy was here” so they can at least laugh at their ill-fortune.

8. Thou Shalt Use a New Plate Each Time: If you go back for seconds, leave your original plate at the table and get a fresh one each time.  Why this is, I’ll never know . . .  but I get admonished for it all the time.  (Perhaps a hygiene specialist can elaborate on how this could cause cross-contamination in the comment section?)

9. Thou Shalt Wash Thy Hands: Sticking with the cleanliness theme, always wash your hands before getting in the buffet line. You might not be touching the food directly, but you will be handling the serving utensils.  And I actually GET this one, so no explaining in the comments section will be necessary,  you Germaphobes.)

10. Thou Shalt Not Make a Doggie Bag: Don’t even think to ask.  There are no doggie bags at buffets, NO exceptions. A napkin squirreled quickly away inside your purse will always suffice. Men without handbags are outa luck and will need to be super nice to their wives for leftovers back home.

It was not beyond me to do this at a Buffet.  Yes, food was served inside wagons, dump-trucks, watering cans, pails and eaten with shovels.  Rest easy, it was for a kid's party!

It was not beyond me to do this at a Buffet. Yes, food was served inside wagons, dump-trucks, watering cans, pails and eaten with shovels. Rest easy, it was for a kid’s party!

I’ll Have the Menopasta w/ a Side of Heatballs, please!

photo-413

Warning:  Male Diners:  Do Not patronize this 1 * starlet establishment!  And male readers?  Scroll to the next Football article.

In this day and age, (especially at my age!) with the influx of baby boomer women reaching their mid-life years, it’s about time someone finally got smart and opened a restaurant specializing in issues exclusive to menopausal females. Women come to these establishments for a little R & R, hence their name — “Rest-or-Rants!”

I invite you to accompany me during tonight’s dining experience, complete from droopy butts  soup-to-nuts.

As I stroll inside, I immediately detect the light strains of Carly Simon crooning in the background, “I haven’t got time for the pain…” (so far so good!) followed by a cheery greeting from the “Hostess with the Mostest…” wrinkles, that is. But how refreshing to be seated by a Menopausal Mama instead of the usual “Stunning, Spanxless, Skinny-Jeaned, Stiletto-Heeled, Sexy Siren named Savannah.”

“Hello! I’m Esther Jen!” her hostess’ badge proclaims. I later find that customers too, don these cute name tags, saving us from resorting to clever word-association tricks to recall our table mate’s names.  Like this one:  “Okay, she chatters like a Magpie bird, so remember her name is Maggie. Wait, maybe it’s Robin? Or Raven? How about Sapsucker?”

Next order of business — decide whether I prefer to sit in the “Fanning or Non-Fanning” section. I won’t tell you which one I choose, because it will be apparent as Esther Jen (say that 5 times fast) leads me to my table. All around, women in various stages of sweating, swooning, swelling, swearing and swallowing (pills) — complain to their male servers (not waiters, women our age hate to wait!) in irritated tones, while their husbands catch a break, reading Victoria Secret catalogues at home.

THOUGHTFUL TOUCHES INCLUDE:

• Napkins folded/creased like makeshift fans.

• Medicine droppers and syringes in place of silverware.

• Placemats have guided meditations printed on them.

• Plates perched on pillows for unexpected naps.

• Water glasses refilled constantly with Icy Stares from servers.

Since this is an upscale Rest-or-Rant, a well-dressed woman walks around with a basket of Ice for the gentleman to purchase for his lady. Choice of Cubed, Chipped, or Shaved. For the discerning woman, room temperature ice is available upon request.

Esther places the menu before me with a conspicuous placard stating it will be left during the entire meal for use as a fan. I notice it also has a magnifying glass attached by a ribbon for reading.

SPECIAL OF THE DAY:

Wilted Insomnia on a bed of Lettuce (lettuce sleep please!) tossed (and turned) with Mean Goddess dressing.

Black Cohash Succatash Squash gently sautéed in Evening Primrose Oil.

Chicken Tender Breasts battered with Lose Your Temper Tempura

Hot (Flash) Sundae.

MAIN ENTREES & SIDE DISHES: Past-Your-Prime Rib, Alaskan King Cramps, Forgetful Farfalle, Beef Swellington, SlamDoory Chicken deep-fried with a vengeance, Arugula Adrenala, Nip N’ Tuck Duck with caramelized Cortisol, Taming of the Shrew Stew with hot-flashed, rehashed browns, Fetchabikini Afraido paired with Beach Wobbler for dessert, Chicken Cancha FriggenSee? Accompanied by Shredded Wits with Toasted Testosterone, and I’ma Crack Pot Roast served w/ Half-Baked potato with sex-drives chives.

BEVERAGES: Iced Tea, Iced Coffee, Iced Milk, Iced Diet Pepsi (or Irregular Pepsi) and of course, Iced Ice. Dr. Pepper is available by appointment only.

DESSERTS: (Forget gluten free, these are Glutton free) Muffin Tops, Pumpkin Praline Progesterone Pie, Part-Gray Parfait with Melatonin Mints, TearsofMissYou Tiramisu (the self-pity dessert)

I-SCREAM FLAVORS: Rocky Road, Cookies & Cramps, Schitzopolitan
Whine List: Chabliss, Chagrin, Chabloat, Crabbyday SaveYourYawn, and a White Sinfandel or Merlobido that will make you Blush.

As I decide what I’d like to eat, a fellow diner is chewing far too loudly so I tell him he reminds my of my ex-husband. He pokes me hard and I startle awake with typical nightsweat irritation before I am able to slap him back. Yes it’s all been just a wild dream, which is disappointing because I was hoping to somehow order what Meg Ryan was having.

 

 

I’m Normally Not Such a Busybody!

photo 1-3Today I got bored  eavesdropping on other people and decided to tune into myself for a change.  My Body, to be exact.  It has a lot to say.  So, won’t you join me and we can listen in together?

Body Language

Left Breast: She hates us. Have you read this?  It’s her “Breast-O  Manifesto.” It’s only a matter of time before she tries to shrink us again with Reduction Surgery. I say we Kill her first. Wage a Preemptive Strike.

Right Breast: I’m cold and feeling a bit “nippy” right now.  I’ll read it later when my goosebumps are gone.

Left Breast: But we must stay abreast of this woman’s body hatred before it’s too late!  The Abdomen alleges that war was declared over bathing-suit season and the oblique muscles were nearly Crunched to death.  Doing 100 a day.   We can’t be stupid about it, either. If we strike aggressively with Breast Cancer, everyone will know it was us. Let’s think about using a couple of Hit Men. Literally – – A stealthy pair.  But not breasts. . . a pair of Hands.

Right Breast:  No, not the Hands, although God knows they have too much Time on them.  Let’s keep this a female thing.  I’ll speak with the Cervix and the Uterus to see what their entire region’s thoughts are about waging a “Woman problem” type of attack.  If it’s done discreetly, there won’t be any eyewitnesses who can finger the Vagina in a line-up.

Eyes:  Someone mention an EYEwitness?   Make no mistake, we see it all.  There’s no lashes aflutter here.  Our gaze is piercing.

Ears:  Piercing!  Seriously?   She shoulda listened to that mother of hers who said, “If God intended for you to wear earrings, you woulda been born with holes in your head.” Ouch!! But nobody hears anything anymore.  It’s all that rap music.  Hey Four Eyes, you got nothing to complain about.

Eyes:  Who you calling “Four Eyes?”  We look at the world thru a new lens now.  It’s a Contact sport these days, E.T.

Ears:  Oh yeah?  Well what’s with the “E.T?”  It’s Eustachian Tube to you.    Just don’t go around saying “Piercing” when you don’t know what it really means.  Stick to keeping your eyes peeled.

Eyes:  Well I never!  That’s some way to refer to the “Window of the Soul.”

Ears:  LOOK whose talking!  Some body organs can be so touchy.

Left Hand:  Did someone say “touchy?”  I didn’t want to let that one slip thru my fingers. My biggest complaint right now is that she keeps letting her 12 year old daughter do her manicures.  Do you have any idea how sick of blue sparkles I am?

Elbow:  Obviously the Left Hand doesn’t know what the Right Hand is doing.  Look!  It’s completely polish-free!

Right Hand: (sheepishly)  Peeled it off.  I go to a 12 step-program for that.  I’m a Peeler.   It’s a bad addiction.

Elbow:  Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself. You just need to apply a little elbow grease.  Besides, we all know who has the worst habits around here and makes your fingernails so raggedy and jaggedy.  Our Biggest Offender.  Just can’t stop biting and nibbling. No Siree.

Nose:  Please keep it down.  As you’re all aware, I have to reside just above our Biggest Offender and you took the words right outa my . . .  Well, let’s not even go there.  Saying her name will surely only make her ______ water even more.   And then there will be more food shoveled in.  And I’m not talking Food for Thought, either.  So don’t bother mentioning this to The Brain.   All the problems that chatty body part brings to the rest of us just sets my teeth on edge!  I’d really like to put a zipper on it when she shoots her ______ off like that.   And if another morsel goes in anytime soon, we’re all gonna pay through the nose.  It doesn’t make any scents, I tell you!  But I apologize for getting my nose outa joint over this whole issue.

Eyes:  That’s right, you don’t wanna cut yourself off just to spite your face!  And we shouldn’t be looking down our nose at anyone else either.  Just keep yourself to the grindstone, eh?

Abdomen: But it’s true – – The nose knows!  I’d rather have butterflies in me than some of the stuff that passes through those lips.  I simply cannot stomach it anymore.  I’m all tied up in knots.  And really, do you see our Biggest Offender ever paying the price for its own actions?  Doing any exercise at all?  It should put it’s money where it’s _____ is.  Because a moment on the lips is forever on the hips.  And I speak for the Hips because they’re exhausted from the Stair Climber she made them endure just this morning.

Thighs: Oh C’mon, Little Tummy.  You can’t speak for Hips.  You know Hips, Butt and us Thighs operate as a complete lower body team.  And quit standing up for the Nose.  You don’t have a leg to stand on where this issue is concerned.  Nobody pays thru the nose.  It’s the limbs who pay.  It costs us an arm and a leg when she goes on one of her fitness kicks. We thought we’d fully recovered once Suzanne Somers retired that crazy contraption from infomercials. But nooooo, then she had to go and take up jogging.  There’s no relaxing now.  Jeeze, we can’t even get our “foot in the door” at Massage Envy.

Nose:  Wow, you sure put your foot in your MOUTH with that little speech.  OMG.  I said it.  I just slipped.   I said that body part . . . I’m so sorry.

MOUTH:  That’s right, Nose.  Someone sure has a big MOUTH around here.  And I’ve heard everything now.

Elbows:  Well, shut my Mouth. As I live and breathe, you took a break from the chewing. And the spewing.

MOUTH:  What’d I ever do to you?  You’re perfectly slender.  There are no exercises for an elbow to do.   And it’s not like I’m spewing bad nicknames at you – – like Muffin Top or Thunder Thighs.   Why you’re practically her favorite body part.photo 2-9

Elbow:  Listen to this.  As if butter wouldn’t melt in your _____.  Quit foaming at the ______, Oh, forget this.  I’m gonna go rub Elbows with the Knees.

MOUTH: Alright, alright everyone.  Right now, it may look as though I’m the culprit.  But I’m no Motor Mouth.  I speak in turn. It’s true I might be a Smart Mouth, but at least I wasn’t born with a Silver Spoon.  I don’t talk out of both my sides.   But nothing leaves a bad taste in me more than being talked about behind my Back.

Back:  Don’t even start, you spineless wimp.  Just Back off.

MOUTH:  Alright, alright.  I know when my back is against the wall.  It’s true.  I DO wreak havoc on y’all.  Sometimes I say things I don’t mean.  I can’t take them back.  Then I eat to numb the pain.  But it’s not like when we were younger.  Nobody’s washing me out with soap anymore.  Nobody’s fixing my meals and monitoring my Sweets.  I’m on my own.  It’s a lot of Lip Service, I tell you.  Not to mention when tragedy befalls us all, I’m the one tries to keep a stiff upper lip. 

Feet:  That’s a whole lotta tongue-in-cheek.  You don’t have to just grin and bear it.   It’s not your fault, Mouth – –  so don’t get cold feet.

Back:  Think on your feet, Man.  We’re trying to get Mouth to wipe that smile off her face.  And own up to things.

Feet:  Look, Mouth is just a mouthpiece.  I don’t mean to be punny, but it’s our Sole Soul that’s got some issues that are more than just skin deep.  Yet for now, she manages to stand on her own two feet, keeps her feet planted firmly on the ground, and last I looked, she’s not six feet under and doesn’t have one foot in the grave either.  So just give her a break.   She’s just eating.  And speaking.   If the shoe were on the other foot, wouldn’t we all just want to put our best foot forward?   I’m just sayin’.

Brains:  Honestly I’ve racked myself for days now.  And I know Soul has done a lot of deep searching as well.  But until we join forces together for an entire Mind, Body, Soul connection, we’re never going to be anybody.

All Together:  We don’t want to be just Any Body.  We want to be Somebody.  Somebody special.

Neck: Then why don’t we stop focusing on ourselves and start Sticking our Neck out for others?

And that’s when I really began to listen more intently  – – because I knew that at last . . .  the right questions were finally getting asked.

Sorry, the rest of the conversation is kinda private – – After all, in the end – – we all must answer only to ourselves.

photo 3-4 But if you’re still only into “The Physical,” here you go – – have a listen below!

 

 

 

 

 

What Do Bloggers Eat at a Meet & Greet ??

Maybe they eat "Meet(and greet!)Balls?

Maybe they eat “Meet(and greet!)Balls?

Seriously?  What was I thinking?  Registering for a huge Blogging Conference like BlogHer 2014?   I can’t converse with anyone verbally.  That’s why I became a writer in the first place.  And I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, I don’t talk, I don’t drink and I don’t dance. All I do is sit in front of a keyboard and type.

And the only reason I’m capable of that is because I’m protected by the online anonymity.  But that will be stripped away, too.  I’ll have to wear one of those “Hello!  I’m Little Miss Menopause!” name tags.  And then people will approach me.  And say, “Really?  You’re not so little.”  Or, “How can you be a Miss if you’re divorced?  Wouldn’t that make you a Ms?”  Or, “So are you having a hot flash right this minute or are you just nervous to meet me?”

And then I am going to have a roommate.  What if she is a serious and substantial T-Bone Steak type blogger and thinks all us humor bloggers are just a jar of Marshmallow Fluff?  And if she’s one of those types who partakes in a specific, odd nightly routine.  Let’s say she takes a bubble bath, popping all but 11 bubbles, says prayers backwards, does 100 crunches to disguise the fact that she’s carried twins, sticks her head in the hotel mini-bar fridge for an hour, slathers on some awful smelling night creme and then humors   fluffs her pillow exactly 7 times on each side?  Oh wait, that’s my nightly routine.

Oh dear. What number Fluff was I on?  Guess I'll have to start all over.

Oh dear. What number Fluff was I on? Guess I’ll have to start all over.

And then I’ll go to the fancy hotel ballroom for my meals.  And people are going to sit at tables without any laptops to keep their hands busy. What will we all do with our fingers besides tapping on the tablecloth like it’s an imaginary keyboard?  Maybe the centerpieces will be glitzy computer screens with the words, “Once Upon a Time….” typed in Helvetica font.

Of course the elegant board with our various dining choices will fall from the table and crash on to my lap, because that’s what “Drop-Down Menus” do.  And no doubt, I’ll be very confused as to what to order at this BlogFeast.  If I wanted my soggy, bloggy cereal, I shoulda just stayed at home.  There’s a whole lot more creative food choices to nourish a Blogger than just Alphabet Soup, you know.    Let’s have a look . . .

BLOG CONFERENCE MEAL OPTIONS

Whether You’re Famous, Famished or Already Full (of yourself!)

It will be Love At First Bite!   Write!

BREAKFAST:

Posted Eggs, Edited Over Easy.  Served with Permalink sausage with choice of (depending how your writing is going) Belgium Awfuls or Fancakes, drizzled with Blog Cabin Syrup.

OR

Quotation Quinoa Quiche with Jumbled, Crumbled, Stumbled-Upon Mumbo Jumbo.

OR

Jotted, Blotted Frittata served with a Scone Poem

Bold, Seasoned Condiment Comments by Request

 

LUNCH

All entrees (entries) accompanied with a Flaky BlogRoll & Butter and your choice of Mixed Metaphor Mesclun salad, Cliched Clam Chowder or Stat Pea Soup.

“All You Can View” Stew served in a Writer’s Block Crock pot.

   OR

Dangling Participle Pasta – – Garnished w/ Grated Gravitar Graphics

OR

Steamy, Creamy, Dreamy Porkography – – Archived Anchovies

OR

Widget Wasabi Won-Tons  & Parsnip Snippets, Turnip Tags

OR

Bloghetti & Tweetballs served over Doughy Poetry

OR

Allegory Albacorey Tuna on Spellcheck Spelt

 

DINNER

Sauteed Jumbo Shrimp Daily Prawmpts with Freshly Pressed Garlic and Cleverly Clarified Butter

OR

Tempura Templates  w/ chopped, cropped Images of Inspiration

OR

So You Think You’ve Posted the Holy Grail Lobster Tail?  And Corny Kale

  OR

Hacked Halibut w/ Plagiarized Potatoes &  Tender AsPUNagus Tips

OR

FRENCH CUISINE:  – – Blog Hop Frog Legs & Escargot Escape Buttons

OR

STARVING WRITER’S SPECIAL: Blank Screens Frank & Beans w/  Wordless Watermelon

 

AFTER YOUR MEAL

Keyword Keylime Pie

Simile Spumoni

Deleted Donuts

Ping-Back Pumpkin Pie

Published Plum Pudding

Dashboard Cheeseboard

Expressive Espresso

Italian Italicized Ice

 I better stop here because I’m afraid one of my clever readers is going to make me eat my own words! 

Disclaimer:  If someone asks me what the hell I’m doing there, I will actually be able to justify my presence.  It seems that I was selected for 1 of 25 “Voices of the Year” in the Humor category.  Now that’s a real laugh.

But if you don’t have indigestion by now and would like to read the post that got me that honor.  Click Here. 

Yes, I could very well have made this badge up on Photoshop . . . if I wasn't so computer challenged.

Yes, I could very well have made this badge up on Photoshop . . . if I wasn’t so computer challenged.