Wild Statistical Fantasies — Where Do Yours Fit In?

Yes, this title is an intentionally deceptive word ploy to get my blog ranked higher in the search engine optimization. This piece will not list the percentage of American women who fantasize about seducing an officer of the law. Nor will it mention dominating or submitting, unless it’s submitting writing. In fact it isn’t sexual in nature at all and the tame fantasies are actually just my own. They occur when I scrutinize my blogging statistics each day and detect a huge peak in a specific category or a tremendous amount of referred readers coming in from Facebook or LinkedIn or another source. My imagination runs amuck…

4 Common Fantasies Induced by My Stats:

Literary Representation! — I’ve been discovered! This fantasy gets spurred on when I get a lot of extra activity on my short story section or my stats with the keyword “hilarious” have uncharacteristically spiked. Particularly when I discern extra readers are all surfing in from a site called “Agent Search.” In reality, my brother is an insurance agent and has a link to my blog for his clients to get a laugh after they’ve crashed their car or had a roof leak. But since this is my personal fantasy, it goes like this: A bored fiction agent who reps well known horror authors (think Stephen King and R.L. Stine) needs a break from all the blood, guts, gore, and murders. He casually Googles, “Quirky Humor Bloggers Who Write About Gone With The Wind” and that’s it! One glance is all it takes. The rest is history. From the moment he lands on the front page of my blog he’s in stitches and it’s definitely not from a stabbing. He’s riveted by my hysterical tagline, the witty titles of my menu categories, and spends inordinate amounts of evening hours reading each blog entry to the point his wife suspects he’s having an affair. “Yes, yes, you have me hooked from your opening line!” and “Oh my god…that’s the perfect climax!” are shouted from inside his closed home office door.  The next sound you hear is my phone ringing as he rehearses what he’ll say to convince me to sign a three book contract as the next Erma Bombeck. I’ll hesitate for a moment, letting him think there’s a bidding war for my comedic talent, but eventually acquiesce when he offers royalties on lunchpails and a Barbie Doll likeness with the exact hairstyle as my Facebook Profile.

High School Quarterback Returns! — This fantasy is vividly inspired when certain categories like “Relationships” and “Love” and “The One That Got Away” zoom off the charts in my stats section.  I imagine my old high school crush has accidentally stumbled into my blog and reads my post about our yearbook. He reminisces about football games and how I endearingly clapped and screamed for him to throw a touchdown from the stands. Why didn’t he look beyond the gorgeous cheerleaders on the sidelines to see that I also had a nice pair of fluffy pom-poms? Regrets of asking the Marcia Brady lookalike to homecoming dance will plague him as he recalls 9th grade Intro to Creative Writing with Mrs. Lyndahl reading aloud my short story titled, “If Chocolate Chip Cookies Could Talk!” and how he scoffed about baked goods coming to life, causing me to sob in the girl’s locker room. He emails me (using information from my “Hire Me To Humor You” page) apologizing profusely, then asks me out as his prom date. After I vindictively tell him I have absolutely zero recollection of who he is, I am call-waited by Mattel to pose for my new barbie doll and then the envious wife of the literary agent calls, insisting on knowing how many times her husband has sent me roses?

Parent Trap!: This fantasy only occurs when certain posts I’ve written about my childhood are repeatedly perused in my stats. Even though I only have one brother, suddenly a familiar looking girl leaves a comment on my blog insinuating we are related and in fact she believes we share the exact same genetics! Apparently she was put up for adoption to a poor family because after I was born, our parents realized that daughters were just hormonal nightmares who cost lots of $$ with orthodontists, gynecologists, and dermatologists and so they could only afford to raise just one. We proceed to make plans to attend the same summer camp and then discreetly switch homes afterwards.

Law Suit!: (I never claimed my fantasies were always fun or exciting.) This terrifying scenario comes on after I notice that my stats are soaring for a certain popular picture I used long ago to illustrate a past blog post.  Why would so many people be looking at this particular picture all at the same time?? Suddenly fear strikes deep in my heart as I realize I inadvertently forgot (okay I was lazy!) to acknowledge copyright info or give credit to the photographer. And now somehow she’s entered her photo into Google Search Images and it came up that my blog is featuring HER masterpiece without any attribution. That grave injustice (combined with the fact that I am the one who grew up with parents who cared that I had an overbite, acne medication, and regular pap smears) fuels my long-lost sister to take me to court. An example is made out of me for all the bloggers who blatantly steal copyrighted images and I’m prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Even smiling coyly while trying to seduce the arresting police officer doesn’t prevent me from getting taken to jail. (In fact he tightens the handcuffs.) I only get one phone call and it’s to my literary agent to bail me out with a hefty book advance, but the call is intercepted by his insanely jealous wife who refuses to let me speak to him and instead forwards me to my old crush, the high school quarterback — and of course now he doesn’t remember me from Adam. Except since this is still MY fantasy, his youngest daughter begs for a popular lunch box and every day that his ugly, old, former cheerleader wife makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, he fantasizes about making love to the female author whose likeness is now prominently celebrated on his daughter’s brand new trademarked lunchpail.

Readers: What nutty fantasies has your Stats Section inspired?

 

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Here’s Something You Should NEVER Try in Marriage!

I’m currently divorced, but this doesn’t mean I don’t have a tale to tell about marriage…

“The Perfect Pair For You!” my cellphone advertised.  I covered up this headline quickly when my husband (at the time) walked into the room, so he wouldn’t see the screen and make snide remarks about my buying more shoes. Too late!

“I’m not looking for footwear,” I quickly reassured him. “Oh,” he said suddenly very interested. “Heh heh. Perfect Pair. You thinking of doing some upstairs remodeling? D or DD?”

“Shut up!” I shouted, hurling my Smartphone at him, which is always a good idea to distract from the topic at hand with your spouse (insures you get a long lecture about how cell insurance doesn’t cover abuse) Didn’t work. Eyebrows raised suspiciously.

Me: Okay, alright. Not that kind of Pair. I’m searching for a couple.

My Husband: A couple of what?

Me: A Couple. Period. Another couple for us to hang out and do fun things with. They have websites for that kind of thing now — syncing us up with the perfect pair of husband and wife friends.

My Husband: (incredulous You’re finding us a “Frarried?”

Me: A what now?

My Husband:(Smirks) Aren’t you supposed to be the witty one with words?  I just combined Friends and Married and got “Frarried.” Bwahaha!  I should be the Creative Writer in this house.”

Me: Perfect. In our new profile under “Interesting Tidbits About Hubby,” I’m gonna add, “Feels threatened so competes with wife in really strange ways.”

My Husband: Be sure and also write, “Must like hotdogs. And the Yankees. And Heineken and …”

Me: Excuse me! But this isn’t “Buddies N’ Ball N’ Beer” Match-Ups. This is for both of us, Mister. Besides I think we’ll make a great Scrabble team against another couple. So just forget about baseball.

Fast forward to our first “Date” with Couple Number One.

Me: Nice house y’all have. So how long have you two been searching for um, for lack of a better term, “Friend Mates?”

My Husband: Or “Frates?” Or “Mends?” Haha!  Betcha you guys can’t think up a better word combo than those?

Other Husband: Wow. You really ARE insecure and competitive, aren’t you? You’re on, Pal. Break out our Scrabble board, Ruth!

Ruth: I’m on it right now, Babe!

My Husband: (Suddenly nervous, still hoping for a sports night) Uh, unless you have a couple of catcher’s mitts and bats?

Me: (glaring) Oh no you don’t. No baseball talk.  So….Babe and Ruth — how long are you married?

Husband: (Ears perk up.) Babe Ruth?

Fast Forward To Our Drive Home

Me: Clearly we have to work on your social skills. The “How about we get to 3rd base tonight!” line was what got us thrown out.

My Husband: Just a little baseball humor. And you shouldn’t talk.

Me: What?? It’s normal to ask how long a couple has been married.

My Husband: Not when they blatantly announce they enjoy an exciting affair.

Me: I thought they meant a Fair. As in suggesting we all go to a fun carnival.

My Husband: Yeah, I see your point.  I mean seriously, who starts an exciting affair but gets so sick and tired and bored with being alone together that they go online looking for other couple friends? That’s just plain weird. I mean for us, it makes total sense, but…

Me: What does THAT mean???

My Husband: Nothing. But for our next new married best friends, can you find a husband and wife who are faithful? To each other.

Fast Forward to Couple Number Two

Me: Happy 51st anniversary! That’s a nice, long marriage. But I coulda sworn your ad said you were married for 15 years?

Wife: Howard says that’s my dyslexia, but I really just need new glasses.

Me: So which one of you loves to surf?

Wife: That would be Howard again. But he surfs the web. I just wanted to make it sound like he was more active.

My Husband: So which one of you is Howard??

Me: (Elbowing husband roughly in the gut.) So which one of you bowls?

Howard: We both put ice-cream in bowls, right Chunky Monkey?

Wife: That’s right, Rocky Road!

Me: And right here, your profile says someone is really into DIY?

Howard: Dessert In Yogurt! That’s right. The little wifey here is a wild thing. Always dunking her “Donuts In Yogurt.”

Wife: Not just Donuts. I’m daring!  “DIY” can stand for “Danish In Yogurt” too. Or I can even dip Devil’s food cuz that starts with D also.

Me: DIY. And here I always thought that meant “Do It Yourself?”

Wife: Oh it does! This is strictly a solo project.  Howard never helps me dip.

My Husband: Yeah, that’d just make Howard the Big Dip! Bwahaha.

Fast Forward to Our Drive Home

Me: You’re so creative with words….you couldn’t have said, “the Big Dipper?” instead? That could’ve been passed off as sightly amusing and we might’ve gotten to stay and cream that old fogie couple in Scrabble!

My Husband: Hmph. Some long-term married people can be so touchy.

Me: Alright here’s the new approach. Since I’m obviously the better half of our equation, I’ll make friends first with a married woman and get her liking me a lot. Then I’ll lower the boom and mention I have a goofy husband who could use a new friend too. And I’ll suggest we double-date with her hubby. Got it?

My Husband: Perfect. Then you two wives go shopping and the husband and I will go to a baseball game.

           Fast Forward To Our Divorce!

Readers: Is it THIS difficult for you to find couples as friends? Tell me in the comments! And just go right HERE if you’re brave enough to shop for other Couple Friends online . . . “Frouples!”

 

Should You or Shouldn’t You Have a Gift Closet??

If People Behaved In Real Life Like They Do On Dating Websites . . .

“I just found the Skipper’s profile online at “Plenty of Fish!” I don’t think it’s a little pond anymore — it’s a big swamp.”

 

PART ONE

“I love online dating,” said no one ever. My recent foray into internet matchmaking was shocking in many ways, but mainly because I couldn’t believe how much the virtual anonymity afforded people permission to do and say things they could not normally do (or never would normally do!) if they’d met someone “live” out in the actual world.

Let’s start with the actual profile. The very first impression you’ll give, and also an “advertisement” that’s supposed to not only entice someone to “pick you” but should illuminate your potential compatibility.

Let’s examine how an online dating presentation might translate in real life, shall we?

YOUR NAME

Online — This is a screen-name representing how you wish to be publicly known when you come up in search engines — most people don’t use their given birth name. Instead they get uh, rather original. Or just the opposite — they could care less about this aspect and let the website generate any old number for them. In my case I got creative and put down, “MissWriteRight4U.”

Real Life — “Hi, I’m EatPrayLoveSex — so nice to meet you.” OR  “Allow me to introduce myself, my first name is Size Truly Does.  And my last name is Matter. But you can just shorten my first name to STD.”   OR in the case of a random number, “Hello! I’m #24601. Seems like we’ve met before . . .  like in the musical Les Miserables, perhaps?”  OR in my particular case, they’re in for a  2-for-1 — “Hey there! MissWriteRight4U at your service. Wanna hire me to write an article for your website, or get married on your wedsite?  It’s all good!”

TAGLINE

Online — This is a phrase following your name that’s sorta like a pick-up line. Currently (for reasons totally unknown and extremely baffling to me, except they think they’re being cute n’ clever) everybody seems to use this one, “Seeking a Partner-in-Crime!” (My female friends tell me they all just swoon for that one??)

Real Life — “Hey baby, wanna knock off a bank on our first date? You be Bonnie and I’ll be Clyde, and we be digging our own private crime scene. Then later on in the jail cell, you can drop the soap in the shower. Heh heh heh.” (Where’s your fainting face now, ladies?)

PHOTOGRAPH

Online — Photoshopped, bedroom eyes, shirtless, muscles flexed, not from this decade.

Real Life — “So I know we’ve just met here in this grocery store and I’m pretty disheveled, but imagine this 5 o’clock shadow gone, my hair combed back, I won’t look so hungover, zero holes in my shirt, and I’ll smell like I own a bottle of cologne. Whadya say?” OR “Come over my place right now and I’ll take a bathroom Selfie in my mirror with a strategic bulge. I’ll even break out the Windex for a spotless shine.”

STATISTICS

Online — With a few quick keystrokes, it’s easy to falsify your age to become younger, your height to become taller, your religion, location, education, career, smoking, drinking, all modified in print.

Real Life — “Alright, so here’s my passport and driver’s license. (From 1988) And a Harvard diploma. (My father’s) Will you be needing any more documentation as proof that I’m a very thorough liar?” OR “This cigarette? Haha, someone asked me to hold it while they went to the bathroom. Personally, I NEVER touch a cancer-on-a-stick.” OR (Standing on tippy toes) “You betcha I’m 6 ft tall, sweetheart.” (Google for stores selling elevator shoe lifts.)

INITIAL MESSAGES FROM MEN

Online — Hey Gorgeous! OR Hey Sexy! OR Hey Beautiful! OR Hey Adorable! OR Hey Pretty Lady! OR Hey Hotness! OR Hey Lil’ Darlin’! OR Hey Cutie Pie! OR Hey Good-Looking! OR Hey Glam Girl! OR Hey Stunning! OR Hey Wonderful Woman! OR Hey Delicious Dame! OR Hey Ravishing Raven-Haired Rebel! (last one should only be sent to a brunette like me)

Real Life — “Hey uh . . . Striking, Savory, Sweet, Special, Scrumptious, Stylish, Savvy, Satisfying, Splendid, Spectacular, Sassy, Scintillating, Sophisticated, Seductive, Sanctimonious Starlet!” (Quickly hides book titled, “Thesaurus For Bedding Women Who’ve Heard it All Before Online — Alliteration  Addition  Edition”)

SECOND INTERACTIONS FROM MEN

Online — “Everyone else is a Suspect. But I’m a Prospect. Thought you’d appreciate the wit!” OR  “If you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable! Get it?” OR “Hey Baby. To B or Not to B? That is the Question. And please let your answer be Double D!”

Real Life — (Gosh so she’s a real author. She likes wordplay. I like foreplay. There’s gotta be some common ground to be found there.) “So can you guess what’s on tonight’s menu?   ME  N’  U!”  OR  “If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘I’ and ‘U’ together.”  OR  “Honey, if you were words on a page, you’d be fine print!”

Okay, okay . . . so there is absolutely ZERO difference between online and real life second interactions once they find out you’re a writer. Both are cheesy to the max!

Stay Tuned for Part TWO  “Taking Online Dating Offline! (The First Meeting)”

Readers: Can you think of any other ways that online dating behavior would be preposterous in real life? Please comment!

A cute profile pic that also screens out allergic guys!

The GPS Lady is Our New Magic 8-Ball !!

For decades many New-Age people have claimed that the universe sends us signs — if only we’d just tune in and pay more attention. They claim that finding feathers indicates our guardian angels are frolicking nearby and a fork-in-the-road symbolizes an important decision will need to be made. And I always scoffed, “Sure! Right! Whatever.”

Until the one fateful day this past December when I started getting profound messages (and spiritual guidance!) from the Modern Digital World. I’m not kidding! It all began rather innocently. Just like this . . .

WALKING WONDERS!

I tried to cross the street at a busy intersection while debating what to do about my unsatisfying relationship. “Should I break up with my boyfriend now or delay things until after the holidays?” I wondered aloud, while pressing the crosswalk button. Immediately the light turned red and an emphatic male robotic voice reiterated over and over again, “Wait! Wait! Wait! . . . Wait!” Startled, I looked around at the halted pedestrians patiently anticipating the traffic signal to turn and grinned broadly, realizing I had just saved a $200 therapy session. “Of course I should wait,” I mused. “After all, he might put a terrific present under the tree this year.” Never mind that we’re both Jewish.

CAR CODES!

Inside my Mazda, I caught a glimpse of my mousy brown hair in the rear-view mirror and for the umpteenth time that day contemplated, “Should I dye it blonde or go with auburn highlights?” Without missing a beat, my GPS lady wisely advised, “Take the Highlighted route.” Well, that settles that! (I guess blondes will just have to have more fun without me.) Gosh, this woo-woo stuff was actually pretty cool.

Thinking of my boyfriend waiting for me in bed, I started to connect my cellphone to my Bluetooth when it instantly blurted out, “Ready to Pair!” Well I wouldn’t go that far, but I was feeling a bit aroused at the thought of him shopping for my Chanukah present. Maybe there was something to this, “Getting Messages From Beyond” thing after all?

As I pulled into the parking lot of my next destination, I wondered if I would ever get to a place in my writing career where I would finally achieve real success? “You have arrived!” exclaimed the GPS lady enthusiastically. “Really?” I flushed with excitement. (Now if only my publisher saw it that way and sent me on a lavish book tour.)

CHECK-OUT CHARMS!

Using the self-checkout kiosk in Target, I had to admit to feeling pretty self-conscious about my appearance lately, particularly since I hadn’t been sleeping well and the skin under my eyes appeared swollen and puffy. After swiping my credit card, I entered information into the keyboard indicating I would use my own totes to carry away my purchases. “You have zero bags!” the machine comforted me. Blushing, I thanked it for the compliment on my complexion.

My next errand was clothes shopping. As I waited in the long line to pay for shirts for my boyfriend, I wondered how on earth I would know which register would be available first? Immediately a seductive computerized voice loudly announced over the P.A. system, “Cashier number 3, please!” Wow! The Electronic World certainly does have all of life’s answers! I made a mental note to set-up The Checkstand Lady Voice with The Crosswalk Man Voice, who was so diligent at his 10-9-8-7 countdown while I strode across the street. It would be a match made in digital heaven. And now I was eager to see what psychic information would come across next from another device!

MAYTAG MARVELS!

As I piled the dirty towels into the front-loading machine in my laundry room, my thoughts drifted to a possible pregnancy. My period had been erratic and it was getting rather challenging to predict. “What’s my monthly going to be like?” I asked aloud. The washer was quick to reassure me there was nothing to worry about by lighting up the control-panel with, “Normal Cycle!” Thank goodness — I was getting way too old to change diapers.

NETWORK NUANCES!

Even text messages on this special day became uncannily spiritual. Feeling stressed, I contemplated what kind of self-care I should do? Perhaps meditation or maybe a long walk on the beach? Just then I replied to my friend’s request for a good pizza parlor, prompting her to text back, “TY!” Normally I knew this acronym was just a typical social nicety, expressing gratitude. However on this unique day, I somehow recognized it didn’t stand for “Thank You,” but instead my smartphone was now an algorithm guru telling me in secret language to “Take Yoga!”

Next I made the decision to create a cool new self-image on social media. I changed my User Name, put up a hip new profile pic, then sent friend requests to all the buddies of my adult kids so I could become popular with the younger in-crowd. Upon acceptance, many of them greeted me back with a timely acronym, “WTF!” This was unbelievable! What were the odds?? Every single millennium was warmly communicating back to me, “Welcome To Facebook!”

EXTRAORDINARY ENDINGS!

Before I fell asleep that evening, I called out to Alexa, “Please wake me up at my usual time.” And she ominously confirmed back to me, “You will become Alarmed at 7 am.”  Wow. Just wow.

The next morning I was eager to tune back in to my Digital Universe of Guidance, but nothing seemed to be working. When Siri asked how she could help me, the Yelp Chinese restaurant review she directed me to was rather ordinary. Google merely gave me a synonym for “intelligent” that was actually rather dumb. My Voicemail wouldn’t play back any new messages from my boyfriend for me on my phone. And even WordPress had no wisdom to impart. At first I thought, “Status: Draft!” meant that the U.S. military would be mandatorily inducting young boys into the army again, but nope — it just meant it had saved the silly blog post I wasn’t too sure about publishing.

Sadly, all the magic emanating from my digital world had abruptly ceased. Where had it all gone? “Appliance Reliance” had turned into “Appliance Defiance.” And I was simply left with only my “Inner Navigational System” to rely on, which I now refer to as M.O.M — “My Own Mind.”

But perhaps this 24-hour accounting of unusual events will somehow help someone else out there obtain sudden flashes of intuition from their technological interactions?

Please leave me a divine comment from your mystical Apple Watch to let me know if that’s the case!

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

Comedy Central Is Hiring Me!

cws3

Okay maybe not quite just yet. But I’m getting closer to my big dream coming true. Over the holidays I boarded a cruise ship of which the destination doesn’t matter….because my internal GPS just wants me to end up anywhere I can proudly announce, “Okay, world, I’ve finally arrived!”  And this (to me) entails substantial amounts of fame.

And somehow this also translates to my long-term goal of writing humor material for an illustrious comedian. In fact, Jerry Seinfeld recently called me and remarked that my blog seems to be about nothing and he’s got a new idea about another show that’s still about nothing. Perhaps we could collaborate on writing? We had long discussions, brainstorming everything about nothing, but at the end of the day, nothing ever came of it. Nada.

That’s why I set my sites on the comic of this cruise ship who performed in an onboard nightclub called “The Punchliner Lounge. The first evening I sat in the front row and the comedian incorporated me into his routine about hair. There’s no need for me to elaborate on this topic if you’ve seen me, but let’s just say that if he continues with his mediocre level of jokes, he’s going to be “hair today, gone tomorrow.” And I made sure I “straightened” him out by getting some “parting” laughs with a “hairlarious” one-liner that was a “cut” above the rest.

That’s when I had him — I just knew it. Sure enough after the show, he asked me to come back to his next performance and once again to sit in the front row. I was excited to become a regular in his act because that would surely lead to writing for him. Turns out he just wanted my wild, big hair to block the view for his overbearing mother who sits in the second row and constantly tells him his jokes suck.

But that was okay because I was making “headway” into the world of Funny Guys and it wouldn’t be long before I supplied him with my humorous anecdotes for major $$!

Now I’ll take a pause here to address what most people start to wonder about me. If I love to create stand-up comedy so much, why don’t I just deliver it to audiences myself verbally. Because I’m shy. Instead of the Off-the-Wall person I portray on this blog, in real life I am soooooo ON the wall, that I’m actually a Wallflower. Now you might understand why I’ve set my sights on staying behind the scenes and writing material for famous comics instead.

The next afternoon I saw Mr. Comedian at the buffet, ladling out cauliflower soup which sloshed around in his bowl because the seas were particularly rocky. Sidling coyly up to him, I decided to use some of my seasick seductiveness along with my witty wordplay to let him know I was more than just a “hair-brained” audience seat-warmer. I efficiently spooned some soup into my own bowl, smiling about the funny line I was about to dish out.

Me: Hi there. Did you know it’s not the motion of the ocean — it’s the size of the waves?”

Mr. Comedian: Oldie. Heard that one a lot. And you’ve got it backwards, by the way.

Oops, back to my hair I suppose.

Me: (shoving a tendril of my long curly locks into his face) I mean THESE waves.

Mr. Comedian: Oh right. Pretty funny stuff you got there, Miss.

Me: Permanent Waves. You know, like a bad 80’s perm??

Mr. Comedian: Right. I get your explanation of your joke.

Me: (Waving my hand over and over like a beauty contest winner on a float during a parade) Look! Now I’m stuck with a permanent wave!

Mr. Comedian: Yep. You sure are.

Mr. Comedian’s Mother: You suck, sister.

This was a good start. We could bond together eating soup and discussing his overly-critical mother.

That night I was the first one in the audience again, this time wearing an extra short skirt and my hair swept high into a chignon. I had an idea to try out some racier material since this was an adults only show. Sex always sells.

Mr. Comedian: So where’s your crazy hair this evening, Miss Front Row?

Me: I thought because it was R-rated tonight, I’d show off my tight buns instead.

Audience: (Stares at me as I climb onto a chair and point to my fancy updo and my back side.)

Me: See my hair is in a bun and (lifting my skirt a tad higher up my thighs while blushing) You currently write material for Comedy Central, but I’ll help you write for Comedy Sensual! Not only will you become a great stand-up, but the audiences will get so turned-on, they’ll stand up too. Get it? Stand-up comedian…so the audience stands up.

Audience: Sit down! Booooooo. Down in front with that awful hair and ass!

The next morning, the Captain of the entire ship knocked on my cabin door and issued me a restraining order which proclaimed I wasn’t to get within 500 yards of the Punchliner Lounge. But because they wanted my business back on future voyages, I was also given an invitation to be a contestant in the passenger talent show, where they said I’d be welcome to freely showcase my humor.

Choosing to look on the bright side, I consoled myself that this was one step closer to my goal of becoming a famed comedy writer. As the talent show drew nearer, I began to pray that my innate shyness wouldn’t prevent me from getting my hysterical material across through the microphone.

When the master of ceremonies introduced me to the stage, he called me, “Funny Lady.” If only I could sing, I’d belt out Barbra Streisand’s, “Don’t Rain on My Parade” and just call it a night.

Once under the heavy bright lights and with all expectant eyes on me, I began to have an actual panic attack. What was I doing? I had no verbal delivery! I was just some hack writer. That’s a good joke? I could develop a hacking cough. Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly spied a whiteboard at the end of my platform that listed the order of the contestants. Running over and spitting on it, I smudged away the names using the sleeve of my sexy dress and began to do the only thing I knew how to do……with the dry-erase marker, I penned out a joke.  The audience looked and tittered for a moment. Next I spelled out the opening paragraph of my most popular blog in all capital letters. People put their glasses on and slowly read, but eventually they chuckled some more. I erased and jotted something else down. Guffaws! Next time I’ll bring my computer keyboard connected to a big screen so I can keep the laughter coming even faster.

And now I’m calling Seinfeld back to partner up. Because he needs to know I’ve   got a new angle about comedy writing called, “Much Ado About NOTHING!”

Dear Readers: Happy 2018! It’s good to be back blogging after being away for a while. The real truth is that this particular cruise ship comedian read my Huffington Post blogs and invited me to call him when he docks in the next port! Please wish me luck on this new writing venture. Also please leave me a comment and state the name of the comedian you think is the funniest. Perhaps I can submit my WRITTEN material to them . . .  and then you’ll have to find a new favorite! 😉

comic

 

 

Is it a Soul-Mate OR a Parole-Mate?

Breaking-the-Rules-in-Soulmate-RelationshipsHow will you know the difference between someone who’s supposed to be your partner for all time, and someone who’s just gonna be your partner in crime?

Some cultures and religions claim RIGHT HERE that you have only ONE SINGLE soul-mate out there because it literally involves the splitting of polarities from one intact original state of unity. I don’t write like that! What does that gobblygook even mean? In other words, the two of you were originally baked up together (but where? In some NYC bagel shop?) as one entire whole soul but upon birth, your soul was sliced in half (like an onion, poppy-seed bialy?) and you are therefore “incomplete” until you search far and wide for the one person in this world who possesses the other portion of your soul. And thus only when you both find each other (and a tub of cream-cheese!) will you actually feel WHOLE again.

I imagine going around town like the Duke in Cinderella, only instead of having every eligible fair maiden trying on a glass slipper to see if it fits, I’ll be awkwardly moseying up to strange bachelors, demanding they intimately press their half of their soul right up into mine (forget regard for personal space when soul-searching!) to see if our soul’s jagged edges align and interlock like two jigsaw puzzle pieces, and then exclaiming, “Hmmm, close but no cigar… Next?!”

Or instead you could simply pay more attention to my weird list of . . .

7 Extremely Subtle, Nearly Imperceptible Signs that You’re With the Correct Soul-Mate.

  1. NO MORE SQUANDERED FOOD! — You’ll suddenly notice nothing goes to waste because (since this individual is truly your other half) they’ll want to gobble up the other half of the morsels  you discard.  For instance, they’ll eat the yolk in the hard-boiled egg when you only like the whites … so the WHOLE egg gets eaten. They’ll eat the white meat while you prefer the dark meat in a chicken … so the whole bird gets consumed. Sensing a “wholeness” pattern here? That’s right, while you eat the banana, they’ll ingest the peel. (Or you could just be dating a human garbage disposal?)
  2. FINISHING JOKES! — Forget finishing each others sentences, that’s no big trick. But when you’re telling a really good joke (in front of your mutual friends you want to impress) and just as you’ve painstakingly outlined the entire set-up and have everyone hanging on the edge of their seat — in true soul-mate style, they’ll loudly chime in with the funny punchline, lovingly stealing your thunder. Then that’s your “better” half, for certain!
  3. INTENSE EMOTIONAL REACTION! — You cannot stand them upon your first meeting and never want to see them again. In fact you want to destroy them and wonder if their body might fit into a blender? This is because our higher selves know more than we do and can pick up the vital significance of this person before we’re even consciously aware of it. This triggers our ‘fight or flight’ response as we suspect there’s gonna be a very expensive wedding looming ahead, and we dislike someone shoving cake in our mouth while being photographed. It’s self-sabotage, baby! But this is your soul-mate.
  4. NEWLY ACQUIRED KNOWLEDGE! — When you’re around this person you’re suddenly speaking fluent Egyptian, inexplicably knowing that apples are evil, or ascertaining how to crack open a bank vault. This is a sure sign you were both historical soul-mates in a previous life — Cleopatra & Mark Antony, Adam & Eve, or Bonnie & Clyde. Bonus: Your next Halloween costume is already decided.
  5. BOOKS! — Join a book club where you must all read the same inept, boring novel. When you can’t stand it anymore, put a bookmark in. At the next meeting, ask members, “So who stopped at the beginning of chapter two?” If it’s Fifty Shades of Grey, (and they’re literate folks) most everyone will nod their head. You’re getting warmer. But to narrow down your precise soul-mate, shout out, “Twenty-six, middle of the third paragraph?!” and when someone else raises their hand, you’ve found them! Everyone knows being on the exact same page is always a match made in heaven, or at least in your local library.
  6. THEY COMPLETE YOU! Or rather they complete important things for you. The last of your gallon of cookie dough ice-cream . . . gone! The crossword puzzle you started and meant to get back to . . . already filled in. You paused Black Mirror right at the most exciting part until you’re back from the gym . . . it’s been watched to its ironic conclusion and the free Netflix membership promptly cancelled. (But they won’t complete washing the dishes, your joint taxes, or the Christmas shopping list because they know how you like those things done your own special way. Bless your considerate soul-mate’s heart.)
  7. CLAM CHOWDER! And lastly and most importantly, if you ever share a hot steaming bowl of chicken noodle, broccoli cheddar, or french-onion . . . Oh wait, that’s a blatant typo made when I couldn’t think of anything else to write and Googled, “Signs of a Soup-Mate.”  NEVER MIND!   (My best Gilda Radner impression below…..isn’t it amazing, the resemblance? She’s my comic soul-mate!)

Readers: Do you believe you have just one single, solitary Soul-Mate?

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Forget Renting Cars, Houses, Office Space, — Now You Can Rent Me!

for rent meIt all started when I recently read about Japan, (you can catch up on it too, right HERE) where you can hire someone to impersonate your relative, spouse, co-worker, or anyone else for that matter and keep them as LONG AS YOU WANT. Smart Asian single women are hiring male actors to portray the role of a lifetime – – – their loving husbands (and fathers of their existing children!) — until death do they part. (Or their lease is up!) In some cases, the children never find out their parent is just a loaner. Hmmm, shades of The Truman Show anyone?

I decided to Google and see if this bizarre social phenomenon was happening in the United States and to my surprise, I stumbled upon  Rent-a-Friend  which of course meant that I had to try it out immediately so I could blog about it pronto!

But first I had to think up a unique angle, a niche, some clever way to corner the market! If the current website offered only Friendship rentals, my mind exploded with other interesting ways to fill the relationship gap/void in people’s lives — all while maintaining a witty rhyming title, of course.

For instance there already exists “Rent-a-Gent-a” (a male escort service) and “Renta-Yenta” (a female nag and busybody errand runner) but is there such thing as “Renta-Accenta?” (Someone who comes to your home speaking only the foreign language of the country you’re about to travel to, so you’re already accustomed to their native tongue when you arrive?) I think not! But there’s an overwhelming demand for that service nowadays, wouldn’t you agree? As well as my other suggestions below….

Presenting My Ideas For Renting People While Still Maintaining Cutesie Rhymes!

Lease-a-Police-a: When your neighbor throws a loud, obnoxious party and you need to break it up, but real law-enforcement takes so long to arrive because they’re too busy catching actual killers. For extra $$, Lease-a-Police-a will come to your home (after halting the festivities next door) and perform a hot bachelorette striptease as well!

Lease-a-Justice-of-the-Peace-a: For all these Japanese people who are faking their marriage with the rental spouses, (see above) they’ll also need a fraudulent officiant to conduct the pretend ceremony, no?

Lease-a-Niece-a: Because sometimes you want to go shopping, get manis-pedis, and attend a fashion show WITHOUT the hormonal commitment of raising a complete daughter.

Lease-a-Piece-a: When you open the door, they ask . . . “So ya wanna piece of me?”

Lease-a-John Cleese-a: Alright, obviously I ran out of rhyming words at this point, but who couldn’t use a real life reenactment of Monty Python?

Charter-a-Martyr: For all those who have yet to experience what having a Jewish mother is like.

Charter-a-Self-Starter: Short of a maid, I can’t think of a personality type I’d rather rent!

Engage-a-Teenage-a: For the regretful but masochistic Empty-Nester! A week’s rental will last you a lifetime, trust me.

Hire-a-Crier: Afraid your funeral will be rather sparsely attended? These people will show up on time to bawl, weep, and suffer up a storm at the news of your loss. Your surviving friends will be duly impressed.

Hire-a-Liar: No longer will you need to perfect your phony cough when you call in sick to work. Liars will attest to your dismal health with your boss as well as get you out of all social commitments with full-proof alibis that begin with, “I’m with him right now and trust me, he’s certainly in no condition to _fill in the blank_ !”

Hire-a-Squire, a Vampire, an Umpire, a LiveWire, a Ball-of-Fire, or a Pacifier: Alright admittedly these all need a little more work, but have great potential.

A Loaner Moaner: Remember the neighbor who had the wild and noisy party (above) but didn’t invite you?? A loaner moaner will make them equally jealous by putting Meg Ryan to shame from THIS SCENE IN WHEN HARRY MET SALLY,  And bonus — you don’t even have to be at home to elicit your neighbor’s complete respect and admiration cuz she just keeps going and going….

“Don’t Borrow Sorrow From Tomorrow!”: This isn’t a relationship rental, but it’ll make a hell of a bumper sticker for a different business I may start.

UPDATE: As I continue to fine-tune my above quirky brainstorms, I went ahead and made my own profile for that more conventional “Rent-A-Friend” website and have already become a pal to at least a dozen outcasts, hermits, and wallflowers! I’ve been handsomely compensated to accompany a lonely retiree to dinner and a movie, cheer a man on in his first tennis match, (he lost) go on a cruise with a woman who gets seasick easily, (I held her hair) and feed a widower some brisket while reminiscing about his late wife. (Yes, I was also the Crier for Hire at their lovely memorial service.) But in each and every booking, inevitably (before my friendship appointment came to completion) I’d find something they said highly disagreeable, start a heated argument, and end things by storming off in a huff shouting, “And don’t bother accompanying me to the the exit, I’ll gladly see myself out!” thereby slamming the door behind me.

That’s why I’m thrilled to announce my new (non-rhyming!) yet very sincere, FREE service service called simply, “Rent-a-Rival” —  because let’s face it . . . with a friend like me, who needs enemies?

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Shh! Secret Sketchy Scam School Secures Scholastic Students!

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Finally uncovered! This is it! This is where the best online Scammers all learn the tricks of their trade.  Let’s listen in on a classroom lesson in progress . . .

PROFESSOR: Alrighty, so this is Intro to Scheming 101, a freshman survey course specifically for online hoodwinks. If you’re looking for Credit Card Fraud or Elderly Duping, they’re not being offered this semester.  Let’s get started. The first rule of thumb for Facebook is that women are getting wiser.  No longer are they automatically accepting friend requests from handsome military officer types with profile pictures featuring an American flag background and holding a cute kitten. We think it’s because this just screams, “litter-box changing!” So now we’re recommending you become a well-built (inexplicably shirtless) widower with an eight-year-old son (brings out their maternal instinct, but not their diaper aversion) and have all of your interests related to mani/pedis.

PUPIL: What’s your opinion about just using the 3 B’s — busty, blonde, bikini–and scamming the men-folk?

PROFESSOR: If you can handle drag impersonations, go for it. Male Facebook users aren’t too picky these days. But we’re no longer advising stealing legit bosomy bombshell photos off of Google images because they’re cracking down on citing proper attribution. So if you wanted to avoid being sued, you’d need to state, “Hair Color by Clairol, Swimsuit by Nordstrom, and Body, Mind & Soul by Kate Upton.” It’s kinda a dead giveaway that it’s not really you.

PUPIL: Can you talk a little bit about hacking into their Facebook account and pretending to be them. I haven’t been able to quite understand what the advantages are to doing this?

PROFESSOR: Hijacking profiles? Well if you’re bored, it’s a ton of fun to make a crazy fake post about how all their smartypants kids are failing all their subjects and their daughter just got knocked-up. Or if they’ve been recently putting up 10th wedding anniversary weekend photos at a glitzy 5-Star hotel you could say, “OMG. Caught my husband in bed with housekeeping staff!” You might also unfriend all their followers so they look really unpopular. I saw a hand raised in the back. Yes?

PUPIL: So there’s no monetary gain with this impersonation shenanigan at all?

PROFESSOR: Absolutely not. Stick to Match.com for that. Here’s where you can screenshot someone else’s photos, hobbies, favorite foods, sexual preferences, and personality type results so when you show up on the actual date, ordering steak & lobster, and conveniently forgetting your wallet — they’ll be so upset at having to pay the bill, they won’t even notice you look nothing like who you said you were.

PUPIL: Yum!

PROFESSOR: Moving on to email scamming. Nothing Nigerian is getting any results these days. That part of the world has lost all public empathy for its exotic sob stories. Even if you’re heir to millions, they’re just not sending their bank account numbers. But we’re seeing great things with Netflix suspension notices. Use this exact phrasing, “Oops! We were unable to validate your billing information for the next subscription cycle so we are terminating your account unless you click here and immediately update your method of payment.” And don’t forget there are two “M’s” in immediately. Studies show that opening with “Oops!” makes you appear friendly AND professional yet just as innocent and well-meaning as a blue-haired grandma with a run in her pantyhose.

PUPIL: (rubbing hands greedily together) So once they click anything in that email, we’re home free?

PROFESSOR: Yep! You can simply reel ’em in hook, line & sinker. Which reminds me, there’s a consensus in our industry to drop the “Ph” on “Phishing” and just spell it the regular old fashioned way — “fishing,” so remember that on your upcoming vocabulary quiz.

PUPIL: What advice can you dispense for sending effective  e-cards?

PROFESSOR: First make sure it’s really their birthday and that your greeting has a hilariously sexy first line. And definitely make the recipient someone they adore on their contact list, so when they eagerly click to see the stupid punchline, our proprietary viral spyware will infect their operating system so fast, they’ll wish Hallmark was never invented. Or choose the option of turning them into one of the bots from the infamous Zeus family, thus utilizing malicious malware that will launch pop-up ads for porn sites in new windows all over their screen so they’ll be far too embarrassed to go to the police. Yes, question?

PUPIL: Is malware always malicious or can it sometimes become benevolent?

PROFESSOR:  Great question! Is there life after death? Okay so before I conclude today’s lesson, I’ll take a few more inquiries. Make ’em specific and crafty.

PUPIL: When implementing a travel scam, is there any way we can actually go on the exciting fantasy Bali vacation instead of them?

PROFESSOR: That’s big, really big. I’m recommending to faculty that you graduate early. Time for two more….

PUPIL: I’m really proud that we have the word “Artist” in our “Scam Artist” vocation title. Is there any way to set up some easels and have a creative display, showcasing our framed masterpieces after our midterm?

PROFESSOR: Ahhh what a brilliant way to bring more respect into our field! Last one….let’s see, you in the back with the gray flasher trench-coat on.

PUPIL: (opens coat to reveal dozens of binoculars) I’m selling invisible, high powered visual aids so we can all copy everyone’s answers on our final exam. These are the same expensive devices used to capture ATM passwords even if the target remembers to shield the keyboard with his hands. Normally $199, but students in this class only have to pay $49.99.

PROFESSOR: (pushes intercom) Security, would you kindly escort this unscrupulous cheating shyster out of my classroom immediately. And that’s immediately with two “M’s.”  Class is dismissed!

READERS: Have you ever fallen prey? Leave me a comment with the most innovative scam you’ve heard of so we can all be wary.

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Krazy KillJoy Kostume Karma!

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Is it already Halloween again?? Okay, okay …. so here’s my obligatory Halloween blog post. And for my long time readers with excellent memories, I apologize if there is some repeat material in here, but I have enough new followers that I still think I can fool some people into believing I am clever.

 

Aren’t you impressed with this? These are my three pet’s costumes this year!  Look how organized and innovative I am! And how cooperative and cute they are!  Okay, so these are cool critter costumes, but for all you know — I don’t even own two Persian cats and a Shih-Tzu dog. And even if I did, how would you know these are really them?? And actually they aren’t.  I just Googled those particular breeds wearing costumes because mine wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything.

Here they are in real life. (I promise these are really mine below!)

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On Halloween, I just sprinkle a little water on them and tell people they’re dressed up as “Raining Cats and Dogs!”

Pretty good trick, huh? Maybe I should do that for my sister-in-law’s annual masquerade party tonight. Just send another curly, long-haired brunette woman in a costume that covers everything up but her dark locks — and everyone will think it’s me that’s dancing up a storm when they play the Monster Mash.

So because I’m a writer, you may have figured out that even though Halloween isn’t my favorite holiday, I absolutely LOVE the creativity of Word Pun costumes — so sometimes I simply cannot resist.  One year I wore a black silk negligee, pinned words like, “Psychology” and “Id” and “Ego” and “Sex” and “Analysis” all over it and I was (of course!) a Freudian Slip. I’ve subjected my young daughters to wearing fancy dresses, putting on whiskers and tails and telling people they were “Party Animals.” I forced one son to put rolls of paper towels and sponges all over his body and told him, “You’re Self-Absorbed.” And I made my ex-husband wear very dark-colored pants and a shirt, stuck postage stamps all over him and deemed it a “Blackmail” costume. Fitting.

But don’t get me started on overtly sexy costumes. Why does a wicked witch need garter belts? To hold up her black lace fishnet stockings, of course! Based on what I’m seeing in the party stores, I think our holiday greeting needs to be changed to “Trick-or-Discreet!” And this Dorothy is definitely NOT in Kansas anymore….she’s at a bachelor party

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What man is going to follow the yellow brick road when he can follow HER?

The other thing I like to do regarding costumes is re-purposing and recycling.  I try to pass it off as being, “Cleverly Chic N’ Cheap!” How many years can I go to my aforementioned sister-in-law’s annual masquerade party and (just by adding a few accessories and changing the name of what I am)  prevent guests from knowing it’s the same darn pink frilly, lacy dress?? So far I’ve been a little toddler girl holding a teddy-bear and lollypop, Little Miss Muffet holding a tuffet, Little Bo Peep holding a sheep (alright so it was a stuffed lamb!) BUT then I gave it a whole new life by adding a veil and calling myself a child bride! The following year, I stuck a pillow in my abdomen and became a pregnant child bride.

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It helps to sit next to a Big Bad Wolf when you’re trying to be Little Miss Muffet.

 

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What a difference a veil can make – – instant Child Bride!

 

This year I’m wearing red contact lenses and I’ll be the Evil Little Girl who comes out of elevators. Next year if I make the dress fluffy and round enough, I think I’ll tell people I’m a Hostess Sno-Ball. Remember these?

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My Halloween Costume Next Year? Sure, why not!

And if you truly want to avoid Halloween and candy and costumes in real life, there’s an App for that. I’m inventing it. A doorbell sounds melodically on your computer monitor so you’re alerted to move closer to the keyboard.  Sweet little “Trick or Treat” exclamations come thru the speaker as two darling 5 year-old twins dressed as Ketchup & Mustard stand before you.  You click on the “Ooh and Ahh” icon and within 3-5 days, a Hershey’s gift card will be delivered from you to their home with a “How adorable you look!” sticker.  No more buying the bag of fun-size Snickers a week ahead of time and having to sheepishly replenish it the night before. . . because you ate them all.  Rest assured, if a large group of overgrown, sullen teenagers (not in costume) should appear on your computer, you can dim the monitor light and a 40 pt. font text will appear stating, “Sorry, out of candy. And you’re too old!”  The updated version of this app includes mini-windshield wipers that will cleanse away the broken eggs they throw at your Mac without smearing your homepage.  Boo!

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PS. These are my cute twins! And just like with the cats and dogs above ….how can you ever know these aren’t really my kids? Whatever….when you’ve seen one condiment, you’ve seen ’em all.

READERS: What are you dressing up as tonight? Just Google an elaborate costume photo and leave it here to impress us. How are we gonna know it’s not really you? Happy Halloween!