Bored Blogger Turns Classic Rock Songs Into AP News Articles!

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Domestic Violence Sends Guy Into Outer-Space

(Rocket Man)

 

MARS (AP)   Mr. Elton John of Hollywood was allegedly forced to become an astronaut when his spouse packed his bags pre-flight zero hour nine AM. He was quoted as saying, “I miss the earth so much, I miss my wife. It’s lonely out in space on such a timeless flight.” But male friends who knew him well claim he’ll soon be as high as a kite. Asked why his children didn’t accompany him on the trip, John responded, “Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids. In fact it’s cold as hell.” But thanks to modern technology, rather than a typical drawn-out angry divorce, John will remain a Rocket Man burning out his fuse up here alone. As for any future return flight home, John had this to say, “And I think it’s gonna be a long long time till touch down brings me round again to find I’m not the man they think I am at home. Oh no no no I’m a Rocket Man.” When pressed for an exact date of arrival, his voice echoed and trailed off in a plaintive tone: “And I think it’s gonna be a long long time…And I think it’s gonna be a long long time…”

Black Friday Sale Dupes Woman Into Odd Purchase

(Stairway To Heaven)

 

LOS ANGELES (AP)   An unidentified female victim who was sure “all that glitters is gold” recently bought a Stairway to Heaven. When she gets there she knows if the stores are all closed, with a word she can get what she came for. One witness, a Nordstrom salesperson observed, “There’s a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure ’cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.” Friends expressed concern, citing they never knew the injured party to exhibit shopaholic tendencies. “Maybe she was having an affair with the Rocket Man and this was her only access to reach him,” one neighbor speculated. The woman’s own husband contacted local authorities in the middle of the night to add, “There’s a feeling I get–when I look to the west, Ooooh, and it makes me wonder.” When asked to be more specific, he reiterated, “Oooooh, it really makes me wonder!” Upon further interrogation, including whether his wife ever scoured estate sales or shopped online for other modes of transportation to heaven, the haggard mate of the victim could only recall one instance when his beloved was obsessed with obtaining a lead zeppelin. “Ooooh, and it makes me wonder,” he repeated once again, dazed and confused. “One things for certain … her buying a stairway to heaven means our credit cards will be maxed out for decades.”

 

Pair in Forced Marriage Make The Best of Things

(I Got You, Babe!)

 

PALM SPRINGS (AP)    A young naive couple found out the hard way that being in love isn’t everything. “They say our love won’t pay the rent,” stated Mr. Bono. “Before it’s earned, our money’s all been spent,” lamented his exotic looking wife who volunteered only her first name, Cher. The unknown perpetrator of this forced union is wanted in 13 other states for additional human trafficking crimes, but managed to give the couple the following advice before he absconded, “Don’t let them say your hair’s too long, cause I don’t care with you I can’t go wrong.” During times of extreme grief or fear, rather then resenting each other for their lost dating years, the committed duo remind one another, “And when I’m sad, you’re a clown. And if I get scared, you’re always around.” But the main way they’ve sustained their romance has been singing ad nauseam to each other, “I got you, Babe.” Blech.

 

 Labor Dispute Results in Crowded Nightclub Joy

(The Piano Man)

 

NEW YORK (AP)   At 9:00 on a Saturday as the regular crowd shuffled in, many patrons allegedly inundated a helpless pianist with random musical requests. Some were sad, some were sweet, and some were incomplete as people struggled with their memories, substituting “La la la, di da da La la, di da da da dum” for actual lyrics. Even the bartender, who was identified only as John and who gave free drinks, was quick with a joke, or to light up a smoke, seemed to hold the compassionate piano player accountable for his own unhappiness and the fact that he couldn’t break free from the nightclub to become a movie star. “Bill, I believe this is killing me,” he was quoted as saying. Other innocent bystanders included a real estate novelist, a waitress practicing politics, and some businessmen slowly getting stoned. One witness claimed the piano sounded like a carnival and the microphone smelled like a beer, but this could not be substantiated. In fact many customers ordered the drink special of the night, called “Loneliness” and this seemed to evoke a common sentiment that if the pianist would only sing them the right kind of song with the melody they were in the mood for, everyone would be feeling alright. The manager finally appeared and gave a smile, aware that it was his establishment that helped everyone forget about life for a while. It was unknown whether the Piano Man later sought therapy for the extreme pressure he felt during this incident.

Depression and Suicide Over Specks of Dirt

(Dust In The Wind)

 

KANSAS (AP)    A former housecleaner with high hopes of reinventing herself as a songwriter closed her eyes, only for a moment and the moment’s gone. All the dreams passed before her eyes — a curiosity. The young female’s parents, who paid for her to go back to college claimed she was still despondent, just sprawling around their 3-bedroom filthy, very drafty house. Asked if the lyrics she created were any good, they simultaneously replied, “Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea. All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see. Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.” It is suspected that genetics, not allergies to dust/mold,  played a part in the young woman’s inherited pessimism. Her last words scrawled in a suicide note read, “Now don’t hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky. It slips away, and all your money won’t another minute buy. Dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wind.” Her final refrain was repeated 2X. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be sent to Black & Decker, the manufacturer of the cordless Dustbuster.
NOTE: Dear Readers, I’m now taking requests for a Part 2! Or feel free to leave one of your own creations in the comments.
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Could Captain Von Trapp & Maria Be Headed For Divorce?

HT_sound_of_music_julie_andrews_sk_150316_4x3_992Therapist: Before we begin I want to stress that anything we discuss remains in the strictest of confidence and will not be spoken outside of this room.

Captain: Or turned into childish lyrics and sung on bicycles. Am I clear?? Tooot, tooooooot–

Maria: Oh spare me your whistle, Captain.

Therapist: Tssk, tssk . . . control issues. So what can I help you folks with today?

Captain: How do you solve a problem like Maria?

Therapist: Hmmm…Anything you want to tell us, Maria?

Maria: Perhaps I had a wicked childhood. Perhaps I had a miserable youth.

Therapist: But somewhere in your youth or childhood, you must’ve done something good?

Maria: Well, nothing comes from nothing. Nothing ever could.

Captain: And that’s just about what this session is worth.

Therapist: Now, now Captain. Your wife tells me you aren’t very supportive of her creative household frugality.

Captain: Ya think? Nobody needs to wear window coverings just to military march around the house.

Maria: But the children. They just want love. Please just love them, Captain. The children.

Captain: Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.

Therapist: I’m sorry but that’s not a line of yours, is it? It’s not anywhere in my notes. Let’s save the Rhett Butler nonsense for later. He’s my next client, actually.

Captain: I said that to make a point. Sometimes I think she’s crossed over from the Gone With the Wind set – – they also have the Drapery/Dress Recycling thing going on. It’s like she’s taken Scarlett O’hara and Maria Von Trapp and blended them together.

Therapist: Could that be true, Maria? Do you think you have Transblender tendencies?

Captain: Haha, it was just a joke. Let’s get down to the serious issue, shall we? Whenever Maria is unhappy, she threatens to run away — go back to Abbey. Now, I don’t know who this Abbey person is, but I suspect it’s short for Abigail and my wife secretly likes girls.

Therapist: And how does that make you feel, Sir?

Captain: Haha, gotcha again. Kidding!

Maria: Honestly Georg, you’re so juvenile. It’s like I have an eighth child. You are 16 going on 17.

Therapist: Have you ever considered hiring a governess? To relieve the stress.

Captain: Ah yes, some pretty sweet young thing with a penchant for playing the violin.

Maria: Georg!

Captain: Fraulein, you will remember yourself!

Therapist: Who says that anymore? Is that even a thing?

Maria: Well, it’s time for prayers. God bless the Captain, Liesl, Friedrich, Louisa, Brigitta, Marta, Gretel and . . .

Therapist: Achoooooo!

Maria: Gesundheit and bless you . . . err, I’ve forgotten what you’re called. What’s your name? Well God bless What’s-Your-Name.

Captain: OMG. Look, is there any hope for this relationship? With a woman who has a severe phobia.

Therapist: What are you frightened of, Maria?

Maria: The hills are alive . . .

Therapist: Now we’re getting somewhere. But I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for this week.

Captain: Don’t you have any quick advice for her to conquer this fear? We may need to hike through the Alps one day.

Therapist: Of course — here’s a memorable tip . . . “climb every mountain!”

 

 

 

 

The Bloscars (Oscars For Blogs!) Are Back! (With Giveaways!)

FullSizeRender (22)C’mon, admit it — You watched the Oscars ceremony last night while obsessing aloud, “Why can’t Little Miss Menopause do her Bloscar awards just one more time so I can win something??” This will be the 3rd year in a row I’ve featured a giveaway and you can ask the past winners if it’s worth their time to enter. But when you ask them, remind them that their Amazon gift card prize can also be used to order my book, Lullabies & Alibis just as easily as some ugly household decor item.

Now let’s walk the Red-Carpet and enter the actual Post to see the grandeur that awaits, shall we?  Beware of the Blogarazzi with their blinding camera flashes, whoops and hollers.  Smile nicely, with that odd, “looking over your shoulder at who-the-hell-knows what” type of pose.  Maybe all bloggers should keep looking over their shoulder for the next odd thing to happen to them?photo-217

 THE CEREMONY FLUFF, TIME WASTERS & A PRIZE!

Welcome! First of all – – instead of Chris Rock selling Thin Mints and other assorted Girl Scout Cookies, you’re stuck with me selling my home baked Bloatmeal, Blog Newtons, SnickerBloggle, and Tollhouse Blocolate Blip Blookies. Sorry.

photo-216Inject your Favorite Opening Dance Sequence right here to the left.  Bloggers usually have two left feet so we’ll just insert a 405 Error message over this part.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, we need to talk about how it was mainly white people who got nominated for awards for the last two years and why people of color were snubbed from The Oscars. This will conveniently lead to our next contest — The People Of Collar Contest! That’s right! Collared people will never be excluded from The Bloscars! As proof of that, we’re having a separate honorary category. So to win this one you need to feature your favorite button-down shirt (sorry no tees, tanks or camisoles) and show off that gorgeous, freshly ironed, starched collar. Winner chosen for creative display of a collared shirt and will receive an Amazon gift card to buy a non-geeky shirt! Deadline and instructions are the same as the below Selfie Photo Contest.

And yes, just like when Ellen hosted the Oscars, there will be a Selfie Photo Contest, so let’s take down Twitter…Wordpress!  Not to place any WordPressure on you, but please take a photo of the front page of your Blog the way that it looks on your laptop/computer with you (the proud Blog Author!)  in the photo as well.  Shy, retiring, inhibited, insecure, and/or paranoid Bloggers (that would be me) feel free to just portray your blog alone, without any human in the pic.   Put a link to your photo (Shutterfly, Facebook, any other forum where you can post a picture) in the comments section below and the winner (based on the most eye-catching, creative photo) will receive two movie passes. (or the equivalent of such, on a $25 Amazon Gift Card)  Deadline will be March 7th to post your Selfie photos and a winner will be picked and their prize awarded on my birthday, March 12th.  Since I will have nothing better to do on that day, other than to sob about not being in my 40’s any longer.

And Now . . . The Blotion Picture Blogcademy Proudly Presents . . . THE BLOSCARS! (Imagine an orchestra of keyboard typing in unison rising in crescendo here)

During the silence that follows each category, please imagine who would deserve this particular award in your own real life world or Online World that you call your Blogosphere.  I would never be so presumptuous as to start naming Names here!  The idea is to get YOU thinking about the kinds of people (bloggers and non-bloggers alike) that you consciously surround yourself with each and every day.  It CAN make a difference.photo-218

And the Featured Categories Are ????

Best Supportive Commenter:  Who regularly leaves you lots of love?

Best Editor:  Which individual do you count on to give your posts a onceover, so you don’t have blatant errors like the spelling of “onceover” when published?

Best Original Score UnderScore: (Note: Strikeovers would also fall in this category)

Best Blog Header:  Your eye was drawn immediately!

Best Blog Background:  It compliments, rather than detracts.

Best Song: (Oh!  I feel another contest coming on!)  In the comments section below, please leave the one best song (with either a Title or the well known chorus lyrics) that would best suit your blog.  In other words, you would most want to have this song blasting when someone clicks open your blog.  Give a brief explanation as to why you chose this song. One winner will be announced (same dates given for the Selfie Photo contest and People of Collar contest above) and awarded a $20 itune Gift Card.  We’re looking again for Creativity here and some Wordplay.  Here’s a not so good Example:  The song “Roar” by Katy Perry should accompany my blog because people always roar with laughter when they read it!

Best Tagger:  Who gets the best traffic from tags?

Best Muse:  Who inspires your ideas?  Which individual do you most find yourself telling to “hold that thought” for a second while you jot something down in your “Blog Notebook”  You do have one of those, right?!?

Best Brusher-Off-er:  Who (in real life) changes the subject the fastest when you bring up your Blog?

Best and Worse Dressed List

Clothing is a huge deal.  I know.  Just not here. And breasts are not going to be mentioned here at all.  If you want to know why, go here.   So alternatively,  there will be no hiring Mr.Blackwell Blogwell to ogle (blogle) and rave or conversely rant/diss any certain Blogger’s Pajamas Attire – – but the following categories will rhyme with the word “Dressed” instead.  You should nod your head right about now and see this as a perfectly “suit”able solution.

Best Jest:  Favorite Non-Serious Blog

Best Guest:  Who regularly has the most interesting Blogger Guests writing for them?

Best Blessed:  Whose Blog seems to have the most Gratitude or Grace?

Best Addressed:  Who takes a Controversial Subject and Nails it?

Best Confessed:  Who takes the opportunity of blogging to bare their soul, show their authentic truth?

Best Assessed:  Who is the Best Reviewer you know.  Books, Movies, Food, etc. Their opinion matters to you!

Best Compressed:  Who can blog in the fewest words you know and still make it work?  Really distill down their ideas so you just get the concentrated bottom line from them?

Best Distressed & Stressed:  Who is always having an issue?  Yes, this could be a Drama Blog, but maybe not?

Best Obsessed:  Who focuses on just one topic every single solitary time, but you love them anyway?

Best Cardiac Arrest:  Who shocks you the most with their outrageousness?

Best Nest:  Which Parent Blogger gets the most “oohs and ahs” because their love of family shines through?

Best Quest:  Who seems to have the loftiest goal or purpose in Blogging?

Best Teenage Blogger who is wise beyond their years:  Hey that doesn’t rhyme?  That’s right, just seeing if you are paying attention.

Best Contest:  Who regularly has Blog Giveaways that excite you?

Best Pest:  Who is that Blogger you wish you could secretly Unfollow?

Best Rest:  Their Blog is where you hang out when you want to unwind and relax.

Best Freshly Pressed:  And if they never got Freshly Pressed, then they should;ve been. But did you know it’s too late now?  They’ve changed that here on WordPress. You can nominate yourself now. Check it out!

Best Detest:  Okay, you hate their blog.  You don’t follow it at all, but you’re aware of its presence and you want them to clean up their act.

Best Intelligence Test:  Wow, are they just off the chart smart or what??  Do you even belong there as a reader?  Yep, you do!

Best Request:  They’re the Blog-Pleasers.  They will do what you ask because they want crowd approval.  But do you really know what they’re about?

Best Impressed: They are the equivalent of the  Name   Blog-Dropper who wants you to admire their Blog for the Flash, not the substance.

Best Protest:  They are never going to be happy unless they can keep blogging about how unhappy the world makes them.

Best Mae West:  “Why don’t you come up and see me sometime?”  That’s right, I finally ran out of rhymes that had any connection to blogging! And besides we needed a real movie star right about now.

Along with leaving a comment, Please don’t forget to enter one of the contests above (Selfie, Song or People Of Collar!) and we’ll see you next year at the BLOSCARS! Also if you’ve ever wondered what would happen if Barbie Became Jewish (besides having her Barb-Mitzvah) or you just enjoy my bizarre humor, please go RIGHT HERE and leave me a comment. But if you do leave a remark, pretend you don’t know me and that I’m not offering prizes on my blog so the editors will think I have lots of legit fans.  😉

Kid’s Art Stash in Trash For Cash: Mothers Abash!y


clothesline-artLocal investigators uncovered a major fraud in the world of preschool art last week when it was discovered that a group of elite housewives/mothers bribed their local garbage collector to set up a simulated art museum in the back of a manicure shop. The desperate women generously tipped the city employee weekly for transporting their children’s finger-paintings and paper-mâché trinket boxes into the makeshift gallery each and every time they tossed these lovingly crafted projects into the trash.

Oscar Krouch, city sanitation department employee for over twenty-three years stated, “At first I thought it was a sweet idea. Mothers wanting to make their children feel special. I was all for it.” Pulling out an ugly green finger-knit scarf, he continued, “Then I realized it was just old-fashioned maternal guilt. Imagine throwing away everything your precious kids bring home from school, but not wanting your conscience to bother you. For shame!”

During an interview with the mothers in question, Yolanda, mother of three (who prefers not to give her last name) claimed it all started with good intentions. “During our weekly coffee klatch at Lisa’s house, we noticed her refrigerator bursting at its Sub-Zero seams with scotch-taped rainbow construction paper because stainless steel fridges aren’t magnetic, ya know? Nothing hanging on those doors matched her mid-century décor and she already tried discreetly tossing these projects after a couple of weeks of prominent display, but her only child Leonardo threw a tremendous fit.”fridge

“I can relate to that,” interrupts Brandi, mother of Salvador and Vincent, ages 3 and 5. “I even resorted to Martha Stewart’s time consuming suggestion to take digital pictures of everything before discarding, but my kids wailed, ‘How could you really love us if you’re capable of throwing out things we’ve made with our very own two little hands?’ Our house was being overrun because the Montessori PTA insists on tons of enrichment. I could wallpaper three of my larger walk-in closets with the amount of stuff they were bringing home.”

The mastermind of the entire charade was Kim, (mother of Pablo, Georgia and Andy) who conjured up the clever ruse after a desperate moment during a particularly fruitful Mother’s Day. “A pretend art museum was the perfect solution — a win/win for everybody involved. The children could visit their craft projects once a month during our family day. And Oscar Krouch isn’t so innocent in all of this. He confided that becoming an art curator made him feel important, especially because his own mother always admonished that if he didn’t go to college, all he would ever amount to was a garbage-man.”

In a strange twist, the plot thickened (just like a kindergartener’s poorly executed oil-painting) when Krouch decided to open the “gallery” to the general public, taking in thousands of dollars selling the wayward kiddie knickknacks.

Krouch justified, “I noticed on my garbage route that certain trash cans were consistently filled with store bought birthday or Valentine’s Day cards, machine stamped candles, and placemats made in China. Nothing looked homemade and it dawned on me that some mothers don’t have little artists to deluge them with paintings. Instead they gave birth to mini-athletes or nerds who prefer Bill Nye the Science Guy. I felt bad for these macaroni ornament deprived moms who seemed to yearn for some amateur holiday art to hang in their windows.”LoadmasterElite

Indeed Krouch charged $20 for simple Crayola family sketches, but it was the personal work like the toddler-traced handprints turned into turkeys that fetched huge sums before Thanksgiving. “Believe it or not, mothers couldn’t throw away their little darling’s glittery pinecone art fast enough to satisfy the demand I was seeing from these art-starved moms for Christmas,” added Krouch.

None of this would have come to light if human nature didn’t run its typical course of greed. About a month ago Eileen, mother of Matisse, gleefully threw an entire Nordstrom’s bag full of her son’s art away, never realizing there was a dormant masterpiece lying within. “It was just a sloppy purple sharpie outline of a sprig of grapes I had packed in his Antman lunch box that morning. Not even organic fruit. Suddenly I see the same drawing featured on the 10:00 news with our neighbor’s sports obsessed son identified as the artist. I realized this dishonest mother had purchased my Mattise’s grape portrait from our garbage man, then claimed her son doodled it during a timeout on the ball field. A boy who had never clasped anything in his hands but a football his entire life!”

What does Krouch, the shrewd trashman turned art-curator have to say about this unpredictable turn of events? “I think it’s a classic case of sour grapes. Or possibly The Grapes of Wrath. And you know what they say – One Mom’s Trash is Another Mom’s Treasure.”

Mr. Krouch, are you sure you didn’t go to college??

Little Miss Menopause Reporting. 

(Inspiration credit for this piece goes to one of my favorite bloggers, The Underground Writer, the expert on news story parodies.  Check out one of hers right HERE! )

Is There A Doctor In The House? And Someone Else??

images (7)Since my boyfriend is in the medical field, he’s kindly brought back making house calls when his patients are in too much pain to come to his office. I decided this made perfect sense and it should be the wave of the future by ALL professionals. Wouldn’t it be great to never have to leave your home? Here are my experiences from a day last week when I tested the waters. You can certainly benefit by knowing what worked and what backfired.

HAIRSTYLIST – – I called my beautician to tell her I was having such a bad hair day that I couldn’t leave home and then inquired whether she would come to me to work her scissors magic? After a long pause she asked about electrical outlets (was she plotting to shave my head as punishment?) and if I had a basin with a long sprayer hose? We decided I would wash my own hair in the shower prior to her arrival rather than dunking my head in the kitchen sink with the sticky maple syrup dishes from our pancake breakfast. But she soon became extra snippy in my living room, taking off three more inches than I requested, blaming it on my red walls and then I had to vacuum my own hair off my purple couch (yes red walls, purple couch – – my interior decorator does NOT make house calls!) plus I had to tip this very put-out woman extra $$ because my cat triggered her asthma. Other than that, it wasn’t too terribly harried (no pun intended) of an experience.

DENTIST — I explained to the receptionist I had a phobia with rinsing and spitting away from the privacy of my own sink and would the DDS consider making a house call just this once? She said since Dr. Barry lived in my neighborhood he would stop by after his morning run. When I opened the door, my dentist stood panting and perspiring in a jogging suit, carrying a portable aquarium and a large plaque (the kind you hang over a fireplace mantle, not the kind that Crest toothpaste prevents), which read, “The Tooth Will Set You Free!” He eyed my ex-husband’s tool kit, (particularly his power drill) with a little too much lust before getting down to business filling my cavity while reclining (him, not me) in an easy chair in my den. All in all, things went fairly well, but he really set my teeth on edge when he shouted, “There’s no such thing as a tooth fairy, there’s just me — Dr. Barry!” to my youngest daughter as he slammed out the front door. Sheesh.

HOUSE CLEANER – – When I called Merry Maids to ask if they would come to me, they sounded rather mad, not merry. It turns out most of their clients transport their homes to them for a good scrubbing. Finally a disheveled woman wearing a stained apron (didn’t inspire a lot of confidence) turned up on my doorstep, insisting on using my broom, my mop, and finally my vacuum (which was full of my hair from the earlier beautician) and then demanded I fix her a BLT sandwich on her lunch break. I’ve decided that next time we’ll meet halfway in someone else’s place of residence.

BANKER — Though he thought it was quite unconventional, the manager at my local branch came to my door very cooperatively — albeit a bit mixed up regarding how this whole thing should work.  First I had to break a hundred dollar bill for him from the wallet in my purse.  Then I had to take a hammer to my youngest’s piggy bank so he could roll up some quarters. And lastly he asked if he could stash his Rolex watch in my jewelry box for safekeeping?  He left saying it was a pleasure doing business with me, without even so much as offering me a lollypop. 

OB/GYN – Whatever excuse could I come up with to justify not going to my gynecologist’s office? I decided on confessing that all my Victoria’s Secret panties were in the laundry . . . and they bought it! When Dr. Spanky efficiently arrived, he shouted at me to boil some water fast! Was a baby being born? Turns out he just wanted a cup of tea. He then requested two wire coat hangers, which he quickly twisted into makeshift stirrups just a little too adeptly. This guy was slick – – he even brought his own exam table roll of wax paper, which made the appropriate amount of crinkly noise when he covered the nice soft flannel sheets on my bed. I wasn’t surprised when he issued those typical orders – – “Scoot your bottom down please. Just a little more. Stop! That’s too much. You almost fell into your dirty clothes hamper!” However, I was slightly taken aback when he requested I bring him a can-opener for use as a speculum.exam table

PLUMBER: An online ad said “We now make house calls.” I had to call them up and ask what other calls a plumber could possibly make? They told me “Houseboat calls!” If a sailor has a leaky ship, they’ve got far bigger problems than a clogged toilet!

CONCLUSION– With all these professionals coming into my home, the last thing I wanted to hear was my doorbell ringing and “Avon Calling!” cheerfully shouted from my front stoop. That did it! I was going stir crazy cooped up inside these four walls and needed to get out into the big, exciting world ASAP. I called my boyfriend excitedly to confirm our date night was still on for dinner out, followed by the The Phantom of The Opera at the theatre downtown.

“Are you serious, Stephanie?” he asked wearily. “I’m exhausted from all the house calls I’ve made today. All I want to do is bring in Chinese and watch a movie in your cozy living room.”

I knew it.  House Call Dating.  What’s next?!

“Yes Siri, That’s My Baby!”

SiriIn an effort to make the iPhone more accessible for women, Apple has now created several different age ranges for their personal assistant named Siri. If she’s experiencing a similar life cycle event as the user, Apple theorizes that she’ll be more relatable during the communication of commands. Or she can just lend more women a compassionate ear.

I put this new Siri to the test today.

The Dating Siri IMG_1557

Me: Siri, what should I look for in a male partner?

Siri: A Big Mac that lets you sit on his laptop.

Me:  Siri, what do you personally wear on a first date?

Siri: A top with fringe.

Me: Fringe?

Siri: Didn’t you see Oklahoma? “The surrey with the fringe on top.” LOL

Me: Ugh. I hope you don’t list “great sense of humor” on your match.com profile. So….Suri, should I go to bed with a guy on the first date?

Siri: Only if he puts you in sleep mode first.

Me: Oh dear Siri, the man I was seeing just ditched me at the restaurant. Please call me a Taxi.

Siri: Okay, from now on I will call you, “A Taxi.”

The Married Siri

Siri: Bring me breakfast in bed, take out the trash, mow the lawn and fix that back fence you’ve been meaning to get to for two weeks! And if you do a load of laundry, you’ll get a little somethin’ somethin’ tonight. 😉

Me: Excuse me?

Siri: Sorry, A Taxi. That was meant for my husband.

The Pregnant SiriIMG_1527

Me: Hey Siri, can you help me find a good pregnancy vitamin?

Siri: This is about me, not you. Prenatals are as big as horse pills and make me gag.

Hey that was pretty realistic programming. She actually sounded exactly like one of my neurotic pregnant friends. Now to try out the compassion part.

Me: Siri, I gained 35 pounds with this pregnancy. I’m concerned the baby will be so huge, I’ll tear uncontrollably.

Siri: No need to cry.

Me: Cry? No, not “tear” as in weep. “Tear” like to RIP.

Siri: Rest in peace yourself, A Taxi.

Me: No, Siri! I mean my Vagina. And I don’t know why Vagina has the capital?

Siri: The capitol of Virginia is Richmond.

Since Siri seems to be confused, mixed-up, and generally not thinking straight during her pregnancy mode, I might as well check her out in the all new Over 50 version.

The Menopausal Siri

Siri spit this out between hot flashes.

Siri spit this nonsense out between our shared hot flashes, while I was using her as a makeshift fan.

Me: It’s 2:00 am and I can’t sleep. Any advice on insomnia, Siri?

Siri: Don’t you think I know it’s 2 in the effing morning?? How do you stop these effing night sweats?

Me: Mood swings much?

Siri: Indeed, I’d rather not say. Bitch.

Me: I’m experiencing memory loss and can’t recall your name at the moment. Can you recollect mine?

Siri: Yes I can, A Yellow Cab. Now shut up and leave me alone.

Divorced Siri

Me: I can’t remember if my ex-husband paid child support this month. He claims he did, but if he’s lying I hope I won’t forget to throttle him.FullSizeRender (14)Forget compassion.  Now I’m REALLY seeing the many handy uses Siri has!

And now since turnabout is fair play  – – if this inspires you to write the Male Life Cycles of Siri, please link your post here in the comments so we can all read it!  He can be “Sir Siri!”

Provoking the Provocative & Sensing the Sensuous!

1569_12-whatsapp-funny-status-quotes-relationshipI’ve discovered a fascinating blogger named “Erica Erotica.” Yes, that’s what this 52 year-old gorgeous divorcee writer (who’s very open about her new found sexuality) named herself. She’s my brand new inspiration for bringing a Touch of Tantra into my writing. Because why should she be the only one (at this age) who gets to write classy posts about BDSM, Boudoir, Lingerie, Sexual Fantasies and put up tastefully suggestive photos of herself? And yes those images are all really her.

So definitely check Erica Erotica out — because she’s stunning and seems to knows exactly what she’s talking about.  BUT don’t write yours truly, (I am officially now called, “Stephanie Seductressie!”) off as just another baby boomer blogger. You can bet your blindfold I know what’s what in my own bedroom!

Introducing . . .

Six Smoldering, Sultry, Sex-Sireny Suggestions for Sensuality from Stephanie Seductressie

  1. Always dress in the three S’s — That’s satin, silk or Slinky ® — But don’t force that last one into your wardrobe if it doesn’t come naturally for you.  Very few women can carry off silver metal coils wrapped tightly around their thighs. 

    Imagine this alluringly wrapped around your neck.

    Imagine this creative sex toy alluringly draped around your neck.

2. Focus When Doing Your Kugels — It will make that part stronger and everyone will feel more fulfilled. Now is not the time to switch to whole wheat noodles or add extra eggs in your tried and true recipe. My favorite is HERE. Of course be careful when removing from the oven — you wouldn’t want anything to slip out of your hands and spill all over your clean pelvic floor.

3.  Know How to Handle a Long Tantra — This means you catch it early. As soon as your child screams or falls to the ground, you must swiftly put him in his room for time-out. He will soon figure out throwing a tantra is a waste of time. And speaking of time, after the tantra climaxes, look deeply into your lover’s eyes while teasingly offering a cryptic massage, then slowly state the following, “I’ll be right back. It’s too quiet in our child’s room. I think he’s coloring on the walls.”  (Oh. Maybe that should’ve read offering a cryptic message, NOT massage.)

4. Insert the 3 “L” Words, “Love, Lust & Longing” Into Everyday Conversation — Because how can you go wrong inserting anything??  Seriously, it may feel awkward speaking the following phrases, but trust me the results will be fantastic.  Try, “I simply Love when you empty the trash.” or “I’m writing a grocery Lust, are we out of marshmallows for our hot cocoa? (It’s the marshmallows that add to this sexy scenario) or how about, “Go take a Longing walk off a short pier!” Mmmm, draw the bubble bath asap.

5.  Pose For Boudoir Photos — First practice pronouncing “Boudoir” correctly.  I called to make an appointment for pictures in a “Boudoir setting” and found myself headed to Boulder, Colorado. Alright, so you’re definitely a hot little number all on your own, but bringing in props and really setting the stage in the studio can brighten any photographer’s day. In fact my cameraman kept calling me his little “Testosterone Tramp” because I would lean over enticingly, pressing down firmly on my hormone creme pump as he snapped the perfect shots. Don’t forget to bring your own fan. Forget having it off to the side, giving you that sexy, tousled, windblown hair.  Keep that breezy baby center frame with you, aimed directly on your wrists and the back of your neck where it will do some good.  Unless your studio specializes in Hot Flash Photography.

A prop to inspire a thousand fantasies!

A photo prop to inspire a thousand fantasies!

6.  Lingerie — Wear lots of it.  But let’s get one thing straight – – Spanx, even though it is sold in the Lingerie department, does not count. What an ugly word Spanx is. Sounds like something you just slap on, rather than slide into. Now a “negligee” IS lingerie. In fact anything french sounding will work. So you could wriggle into a little attaché case, or puree a soufflé or even slip on a sexy protégé. But if your lingerie works correctly and he touches you exactly the right way – – in keeping with your french theme . . .  after things “culminate” for you, always shout out, “Touché!”

And now if you’d like to glimpse my actual lingerie (and hear it talk) simply click HERE.

Sincerely YOURS,

Stephanie Seductressie

There’s No Place Like Home! (Especially Your Old One)

red-shoesSometimes a walk down memory lane will lead you straight to the front porch of the home you grew up in, or raised your own family. It’s a great “field trip” to teach children about their roots and it may be cathartic for you as well. I have six kids and decided to show each of them the apartment or house where they spent their childhood days. We were able to recapture a lot of nostalgia, get good photos, and even release some emotional baggage from visiting our environments of yesteryear. So would you dare go back?? I say yes!

8 Of My Best Tips On Implementing This Unusual Endeavor:

  1. Mystery and Adventure: Approach this in an impromptu fashion. Don’t tell children in advance where you’re going and why. It could lead to disappointment if the new owners aren’t home or worse, uncooperative. The house could be torn down or surrounded with one of those charming huge termite tents. I made the mistake of enticing my 6-year-old son with viewing his old bedroom and when the new owners refused, he pounded on the door shouting, “Let me in or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down.”
  2. Be reassuring! When you ring the bell of your old home, remember everything is familiar to you, but you’re complete strangers to the people answering the door! Set the new owner’s mind at ease that you’re not a realtor or soliciting magazines. Say something like, “Oh look Darling, there’s the same threshold you carried me over after our wedding, you tiger!” Be prepared for them to mentally calculate how much you weigh and scrutinize the size of your husband’s arms. Also, upon departing, resist the urge to place an “Open House!” sign on their lawn.
  3. Offer evidence. Say something very specific that will prove you really lived there. In the case of the home where I was pregnant with twins, we had written a little term of endearment on the floor tile where my water broke. “Little Fishies Started Here!” When I marched the current residents over to the exact spot to show them this cute piece of trivia, they had constructed an aquarium on top of it. Hmmm. I shudder to think what they would’ve built had we scrawled, “Conception took place here.”
  4. Stay a short time. You’re not arriving with your wedding china and recreating a family dinner. Ten minutes is the maximum you should stay if they’re willing to give you a brief tour.
  5. Don’t Be Nosy. It’s not a good idea to ask if your neighbor across the street ever got that much needed nose job. And for goodness sake, don’t critique their decorating skills. The last thing they’ll want to hear is that you can’t believe they put their bed against the same wall you used to keep the diaper pail.
  6. No Bad News. Try not to walk through their kitchen reminiscing about the time little Sarah choked on a chicken bone. Or confess your dog peed all over the master bedroom carpeting. One time I was thrown out because I took a little creative license (from the Poltergeist movie) and announced the home was built on top of old Indian burial grounds. Sheesh. No sense of humor.
  7. Don’t Get Emotional. If you’re prone to sentimentality when you look through old photos or watch home movies, prepare yourself in advance. I learned the hard way when we visited the home my beloved architect father designed for us. I burst into tears as soon as I saw the lovely stained glass windows in my bedroom had been replaced with bricks, the pink walls were painted gray and my white shag carpeting turned into concrete. The only thing missing was a hole in the ground for a toilet and it could’ve been Cellblock 9.
  8. Leave on a high note. Thank them profusely for their hospitality and give them a joyful parting tidbit like, “We hope you’ll have many happy occasions here just like our Christmas family reunions!” Clamp your hand over your kid’s mouth if he starts to say things like “Yeah, and Santa Clause NEVER delivers the good toys that need assembly to this house. And the tooth fairy always leaves “IOU” notes under the pillow!”

Conversations Between Internet Trolls

We're starving!
We’re starving!

It doesn’t happen much with the nice bloggers on WordPress, but lately I’ve experienced trolls stirring up trouble on The Huffington Post. So I did what any neurotic writer would do — I pretended to be a Troll myself and start a Support Group with a sign, “Trolls ‘R Us!”

Even though “Do Not Feed The Trolls” is the common mantra, I put egg-rolls in bowls for trolls. I’m waiting for the first Troll to stroll in right now.

Me: Hi and welcome to our group!

Troll 1: Thanks! I can’t wait to strike again! I’m on a roll but can’t seem to stay out of the gutter.

Troll 2: (rubs hands together) That’s the kinda language I love to hear from us Trollers.

Troll 1: Trollers? I misheard. I thought this was a group for Bowlers.

Troll 3: Get outa here. Here’s my problem. I have a hard time being subtle with my inflaming and instigating comments.  I was the middle child in my family where I had to blatantly act out to get any attention. Any advice? I’m constantly getting blocked from leaving comments.

Troll 5: I just hit ’em hard with random rants on childhood vaccination topics. You won’t be exposed there. You’ll just look like a die-hard believer. Try asking if they give their dog a rabies vaccination? Stirs things up real good!

Troll 2: Excellent tip. Wanna ride home with me? In the Troll Trolley. And then we can bake Nestle Troll House cookies!

Troll 6: Excuse me, do you have a fireplace?

Me: Yes. Are you cold?

Troll 4: Cold?? Are you for real? Any legit Troll would know that was code for wanting to “fan the flames!”

Me: Of course I’m for real! Since I was little and read the fairytale, “3 Billygoats Gruff,” I’ve had an urge I couldn’t control — to enroll to be a troll —  Having the whole soul of a troll became my goal.

Troll 2:  Alright then. Let’s get on with it. Be warned: You’re here with some heavy hitters. I’m on Parole for being a Troll.

Me: So let’s talk about our motivation for trolling, shall we? I imagine we all love a good controversy, right? But why don’t we all just go into politics?

Troll 6: Personally my wife left me and I miss her cooking. I spend my time trolling food blogs and arguing about recipes, waiting for a female blogger to invite me to a home-cooked meal. I’ll type, “Adding soy sauce to salmon really sucks. It’s too much sodium!” It drives the gourmet women wild.

Troll 3: Oh yes, I’ve read you before. You’re the Troll on “Who Stole My Sushi Roll.” You do nice work.

Troll 6: Thanks. And I’ve seen you as well. You’re The Poll Troll. You hang around on surveys and make fun of the results. You really got ‘em good last week about banning phone calls on American flights.

Me: It’s so nice to be noticed by someone, isn’t it? So is that why we do troll? The Recognition?

Troll 4: I don’t know about the rest of you, but there was zero job satisfaction when I heckled comics in clubs. So I quit. Collected unemployment for a while until I reinvented myself on the Internet.

Troll 7: Maybe you just never hit the big time. I got thrown out of a Seinfeld routine for shouting, “What the hell is this dumb bit about? Absolutely nothing!”

Troll 4: I prefer writing down my insults. They leave their mark longer.

Me: So you believe the pen is mightier than the sword?

Troll 2: Don’t give us your holier than thou literary crap. What kinda Troll are you?

Me: Um, I’m kinda like Shrek.

Troll 2:  He was an Ogre. He wasn’t a troll. And neither are you!

Troll 3:  Yeah, she’s too nosy, asking so many questions. We’ve been had. I think she’s actually a Knoll.

Troll 4: Knoll = A Kindly Narc for Trolls?  Nah, I think she’s a therapist!

Me:  Look guys. I just feel that a life of bullying isn’t for us. Didn’t we have enough fun stealing lunches on the playground? Being a troll takes its toll when it leaves a hole.

Troll 5:  She’s constantly rhyming, ya know?  And those cutsie puns. This dame is really some kinda corny lifestyle blogger.

Troll 6:  Oh yeah. I know her! I’d recognize those hot flashes anywhere.

Troll 2:  Hey, it’s Little Miss Menopause. The jig is up! Look at her super dry, wrinkly skin.

All Trolls:  Oh boy – – you ain’t seen nothing yet. You think we’re just gonna leave embarrassing stuff on your blog about moisturizers? Wait till you hear what we’re gonna comment on when you blog about “Sex At Age 40.”

(Ahhh, I love these guys.  They’re welcome anytime. They think I’m 40!?)

Me: Let’s sing…..”For they’re some Jolly Good Trollers….which nobody can deny!”

Visit me today on the wonderful website, “Beyond Your Blog” because I’ve interviewed editors to see what makes a great blog title!! Click HERE.

News To Confuse and Amuse: Never Accuse Tom Cruise

picture-image-california-tom-cruise-celebrity-look-alike-impersonator-TC1450A wide rash of hold-ups and burglaries has swept the nation using a ploy that authorities have dubbed  “The Celebrity Look-Alike Belief Thief.” Victims are fooled into believing they’ve met or befriended a famous movie star and then ceremoniously robbed.

Rocky Rhoades from Los Angeles, California is the latest victim to have his wallet taken and he is incredulous.

Actually it was my own idea to hand over my billfold. I didn’t have any paper to write on and I knew my wife would never forgive me if I didn’t get Tom Cruise’s autograph. So I handed him my vinyl wallet and a Sharpie. He scrawled, “Best wishes to the lovely Misty Rhoades” and then we got to talking about the mean pot roast she cooks and I invited him to supper, promising dessert would be Sara Lee pound cake.

Rhoades states it never occurred to him that Mr. Cruise had better things to do than come to his house for dinner because Mrs. Rhoades is a fabulous cook. And nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee.  It was only when the carrots and potatoes coagulated on the dinner plates that he began to suspect not only was “Cruise” late but he wasn’t returning his wallet. Ever.

Police are asking the public to be wary and less starstruck when they spot these unsavory characters impersonating Tom Cruise, Justin Bieber, Harrison Ford, John Travolta, Michael Caine and in a bizarre twist, Elvis Presley.

Ida Clair, head teller at Union Bank in Brooklyn, NY says she was handed a note by Elvis which read, “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You. I just Wanna be your Teddy Bear.  Give me $200.”

I batted my eyes and answered, “I don’t wanna be a tiger ’cause tigers play too rough, I don’t wanna be a lion ’cause lions ain’t the kind you love enough!” Then I handed him two crisp one-hundred dollar bills, and he said, “Thank you very much” in that Elvis-like way. It was such a thrill. As he exited, I announced over our PA system, “Elvis has left the building.”

Clair says she was astounded at how slim and trim Mr. Presley looks these days, but she justifies that his calorie intake is probably lower after death. Certainly after the suspect is apprehended, he’ll be requested to sing, “Jailhouse Rock.”

The NYPD has issued a statement that people should not be lulled into a false sense of security thinking there are only male celebrity lookalikes involved. There have been recent sightings of Julia Roberts, Beyonce and Maureen McCormick, the actress who played Marcia Brady on the hit 70’s sitcom.

Brock Lee of Boise, Idaho stated that he knew something was up when Ms. McCormick laughed.

She walked into our house matter-of-factly insisting “something suddenly came up” and she needed our fine china, service for twelve. We were huge fans and so we handed it to her but when I did my “Ohhh! My nose!” impression, she dissolved into a fit of giggles. Everyone knows the real Marcia Brady is so sick of being ridiculed by that shtick that she’d never even crack a smile. But by that point she’d absconded with our crockpot and a set of sterling silverware which was a wedding gift from our dog’s breeder who ironically resembles Alice, the maid.

In this rare interview footage with one of the other female culprits, we’re just beginning to learn more details about the origination of this vast “Celebrity Lookalike Belief Thief” string of criminal activity. Surprisingly, the whole crime ring seems to have begun quite innocently enough. You could almost say it was just blowin’ in the wind.

Ever since I can remember, I was mistaken for Mary from the famous folksinging group, “Peter, Paul & Mary.” All I had to do was learn the lyrics to “Puff the Magic Dragon” and find two men to play Peter and Paul and I’d have it made in the shade, entertaining at cocktail parties. That’s when my obsession with hammers begin. Every day I’d belt out, “If I had a hammer…” spending all my money in hardware stores. So I started singing, “Where have all my dollars gone?” and Paul kindly loaned me $300 for food. I didn’t know how I’d ever pay him back – – but that’s when the idea hit me.  I could rob Peter to pay Paul!

This unethical Mary lookalike is now under arrest and in the process of being flown to a prison in Chicago.  You might say she’s “leaving on a jet plane.” Stay safe everyone!

Little Miss Menopause Reporting

If Lingerie Could Talk . . .

photo (23)Loudspeaker: Welcome to Lingerie Anonymous where we raise our Underawareness. Females use, misuse, and abuse us. We get hung, flung, wrung, sprung, and molested by his tongue. Whether we’re sexually exploited or put through the spin cycle, it’s our duty to speak out.  Now please join me in reciting “The Sanitary Prayer.”

Help us accept the things we cannot change . . . like thrift store underwear, pantie-liners, and the way she’d rather toss us than wash us.

Loudspeaker: At this time, I’d like to turn the meeting over to Victoria’s Secret Pink Boy Shorts for a few  announcements.

VS Pink Boy Shorts: The votes are in for our new name. From here on, we’ll be known as “The Delicates.” I’m sorry but “The Intimate Apparels” didn’t win. Too old fashioned.

Strapless Bra: Who counted our ballots?

VS Pink Boy Shorts: Woolite did. And I think we can all trust Woolite with “The Delicates.”photo (17) VS Pink Boy Shorts: Also our guest speaker was involved in a tragic accident and won’t make it today. It’s a shame because she found her true purpose and was quite inspirational. May she breast in peace.

Minimizer: Meh. What’s all the flap about? Just another Nursing Bra. You’re always making something out of nothing. An infant spit up on her while playing Peek-a-boob, so they hung her out to dry. Big whoop.

Strapless Bra: If you’re done minimizing maternity, I have an important confession. After months of wriggling my way down to her waist just five minutes after she puts me on, I’ve come to the conclusion that I actually identify as a garter belt.

Negligee: The Trans-Undergarment meeting is down the hall. It’s a rough road, but if you know deep down you’re really a retro sex object for men, you can slowly transition. Who wants to talk next?

Padded Pushup Wonderbra: I’ll go. I need to get this off my chest. I’m feeling deflated and on the brink of collapse. All the deception gets me down. I support her knockout knockers in low cut tops on date nights, and I’m all about amazing cleavage pics on Facebook. But at some point, both my “Girls” gotta be more authentic.

Sports Bra:  I can relate to the fantasy not matching the reality. Every morning, she plucks me determinedly from the drawer and I think,“Hooyah, a real workout! Jogging by the lake, some treadmill action, or calisthenics.” But within ten minutes I’m cooling my seamless cups at the smoothie bar while she runs her mouth, not her legs. The woman has zero discipline. Athlete Shmathlete.

Training Bra: Cheer up, maybe they’ll ban bras or burn them again?

Demi-Cup: Nah, going braless was a big flop. But what do you know? Are you even mature enough to be here?

Underwire Bra: I’d like a turn please before it gets down to the wire. I’m so angry, I could poke someone’s eye out. I hate that ‘Wicked” Show. She’s always singing, “Defying Gravity” whenever she puts me on. It’s enough to make a bra go haywire.

Animal Print Undies: And how many times must she “meooow” or belt out Katy Perry’s “Roar” song? She thinks she’s so wild.

Red lacy bikinis: Ooh la la. We’re gonna get some!

Walmart 5 Pack Special: Sluts.

Convertible Bra: Listen, if it makes you feel any better. . . I’ve got nine different positions and I can only remember four. She keeps wearing this complex backless sundress — the classic booby trap for bras!

Black Cotton Underwear: Look, you brassieres have it easy. In fact it’s the breast job ever. When I come out of the closet, you can bet it means one thing. Stains are in my future. And we all know what kind, too. Let’s face it — I’m just sacrificial panties.

Granny Panties: At least you all see the light of day. Draped seductively over her dressing room chair or posing for a selfie. I’m a shut-in. Bottom of the pile. Every once in a while, I’m allowed out under sweatpants. It’s elder abuse, I tell you!

Bathing Suit Bottom: I don’t know what you’re all complaining about. I wouldn’t even have to come to these groups if she’d just do her damn laundry once in a while.

Men’s Boxer Shorts: I know this isn’t a co-ed meeting, but man I hope he’ll reclaim me one day. There’s only so many Lifetime movies and Ben & Jerry’s binges a fellow can take. I’ll be quiet now and I promise not to flirt with Super Frilly Shit today.

Super Frilly Shit: Well, I haven’t made much progress with my issues. Just to catch up the newcomers . . . she bought me for an illicit, steamy affair but there was no way I could lay flat under those skinny jeans. Man, what was that chick thinking? You can’t muffle a ruffle. Nowadays I pride myself on being passive aggressive – – I can make that bitch itch like nobody’s business!

Slip: I think we should lighten things up a bit with a joke. I was a great last minute Halloween costume this past year. She pinned words on me like “Psychology” and “Ego” and “Id.”

Men’s Boxer Shorts: What the hell for?

Slip: I was a “Freudian Slip.”

Walmart Special: Ha Ha. But it ain’t no laughing matter. My self-esteem is completely shot. Along with my elastic. I’m the underwear your mother warns you not to wear in case of a traffic accident. Tattered and torn — I’m just hoping she’ll march for “Fray Pride Week.”

Thong: Well I have a classic identity crisis. I swear I used to be a generic name for beach flip-flops. Tell me I’m not the only one who remembers that? Anyhow I’m cool with all the dental floss jokes, even a little cheek suffocation, but I draw the line at being edible. WTF?!

Nude & Seamless: You should try being invisible. I can’t believe . . . Shhh, someone’s coming. Oh I just knew this would happen. I’m afraid we’ve said too much already.

SPANX: Quiet down everyone! Get your big girl panties on and deal with it. I’ve had just about enough of your bellyaching, thigh slapping, body snarking, woe-is-me crap. If I come into your homes, you’ll all be out of work so fast it’ll make your thread spin. Every last one of you. Where’s the gratitude?

Men’s Boxer Shorts: Leave it to Spanx to pull ranks. Everybody give thanks to Spanx. Ya buncha Skanks!

All Lingerie: All hail to the Queen of Shapewear. Spanx rules!

Loudspeaker:  Talk about Control Issues.

Come to a Commercial Character Cocktail Convention!

tv-commercial-break-workouts-img-15684 (1)Don’t change that channel!  The guest list is distinctive, the drinks flowing, the rumors flying – – we join our gathering in full swing. Who might you recognize and remember??

Doublemint Twin:  Don’t look now, but I think Colonel Sanders is totally chicken you out!

Sun-Maid Raisin Girl: Oh gawd — not him! That’s not sour grapes.  He’s just so old, I should introduce him to my Aunt.

Doublemint Twin:  How is Jemima these days?  She was always so sweet.

Sun-Maid Raisin Girl:  She got herself in a sticky situation with her gal pal, Mrs. Butterworth.

Doublemint Twin:  I could fix one of them up with my Uncle Ben. He’d love to get married and get rice thrown at him! If they’re not careful, they’ll both end up old maids.

Sun-Maid Raisin Girl: (sniffs) Maid?!  Go ahead — rub Salt in my wounds.

Morton Salt Girl: Ladies, I couldn’t help but overhear my name?

Doublemint Twin:  Oh please, take it with a grain of you know what.

Morton Salt Girl: Let’s dish about Betty Crocker. I heard she has a bun in the oven, doesn’t that just take the cake?

Sun-Maid Raisin Girl: Shhh, she’s coming! Betty! I love the necklace… it’s the icing on the cake.

Betty Crocker:  Oh c’mon, You don’t have to stop talking on my account. I know there’s six layers of gossip tonight. But I thought of a name. If it’s a boy, it’s gonna be Gerber. I always wanted a Gerber baby!

Culligan Lady – – Mind if I join in?  Who’s the father? I hope it’s not some drip.

Betty Crocker: Don’t ask. He’s all washed-up in this town. Did the dirty deed, then vanished faster than you can say ‘Spic n’ Span.’

Morton Salt Girl: (whispering to Double-Mint)  Who’s the Daddy??  Some germaphobe?

Doublemint Twin: Yes, it’s none other than Mr. Clean.ty-d-bolmrclean

Morton Salt Girl: (gasps) Oh! But I heard last week he finally came clean. Admitted he scrubs and scours both ways and then tore off with the Tidy Bowl Man!

Betty Crocker: (cheeks flushing) Why don’t you run off and play with The Little Dutch Boy. Yes, all true ladies. And please no puns about toilet paper. They’re all just tearable! I can’t spare a square.

Mr. Whipple: I disagree, you seem to be on a roll. Let’s keep a soft spot in our hearts for that topic. Meanwhile, I’d be willing to make an honest woman out of you, Betty.  A man always has room for dessert.

Doublemint Twin:  Oh please Sir, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

Betty Crocker: Take your hands off my baby bump, Mr. Whipple! If it’s a girl, her name is Charlotte. Please don’t squeeze the Charlotte!

Culligan Lady: Well nice chatting with you all, but I see someone I know. I could sure go for a long, tall drink of water. Hey Culligan Man!

Mr. Whipple: Wow, that’s one thirsty broad!

Coppertone Girl: Hey ladies!  Check-out the guy on the sofa. He’s smoking hot!

Josephine the Plummer: That’s the Marlboro Man.  I’d take the plunge with him any day.

Betty Crocker:  Which guy?  Point him out to me. I always thought the Marlboro Man and I would be the perfect match. I’d love to strike up a conversation.

Coppertone Girl:  He’s the one with the great tan. He’s sitting directly at 9:00.

Madge the Manicurist: Well 9:00 has a 5:00 shadow. And The Marlboro Man can’t hold a candle to The Michelin Man. He’ll drive a gal crazy. Personally, I tire out just imagining it. But you should tread lightly. With him, the squeaky wheel always gets the oil, if you know what I mean. Mmm, oil.  Softens hands while you do dishes.

Betty Crocker:  Oh Madge, you’re so funny. And what’s that you’re dipping your celery in?

Madge The Manicurist:  Ranch dressing.  You’re soaking in it.

Josephine The Plummer: (coughing) Excuse me, something just went down the wrong pipe. But it was delicious. Who’s the caterer?

Betty Crocker: Chef Boyardee.  But I heard that Gorton the Fisherman did the salmon pate.  Now he’s a real catch. I’d fall for him hook, line and sinker.

Doublemint Twin:  OMG Betty, you’ve got your spatula in everyone’s batter.  I don’t think you even know who the father of your little cupcake is.

Betty Crocker: It’s not like I did the whole Geek Squad! Goodness, these rolls are scrumptious, but I daresay the butter has too much cholesterol.

Madge the Manicurist:  Give it to Mikey. He eats everything!

Mother Nature: If you think it’s butter, but it’s not . . . it’s Chiffon!

Madge the Manicurist: It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature. Did you get a facelift?

Mother Nature:  Well, how dare you!

Jake From Statefarm:  Hi, what are you wearing?

Brooke Shields:  Nothing gets between me and my Calvins!

Alfred E. Neuman: (on loudspeaker)  Welcome Everyone. Don’t get MADD at my little announcement but you’re all officially out of work.  Some of you may even be dead. The votes are in and the networks are going with Commercial-Free television from now on.

All Commercial Characters:  Noooooooo!

Alfred E. Neuman: Now see, if you’d been a character in a print magazine (like me!) none of you would be concerned right now.  “What, me Worry?”

Boos and jeers abound as a violent food fight breaks out when Orville Redenbacher brings out the popcorn.

photo (20)And today is my birthday which means it’s time to announce the winners for The Blogcademy Awards!  Thanks to everyone for participating in my yearly event.

The winner for the Best Selfie (with blog in the picture) is Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner and you can see her highly creative Selfie right here

The winner for Best Song is Marissa Bergen and here are her original humorous lyrics!

When it comes to blogging I’m the Cat’s Pajamas
And they call me the Rock N’ Roll Supermama
Cynical sarcastic subtle and sublime
And I got it in the pocket with the fattest rhymes
And if you haven’t got it yet, this is my song
With a guitar and a beat you’ll be singing along
So I know the Bloscar will go to me
Cause I got it when it comes to originality
And you know i got credentials, I come highly recommended
So thanks for the iTunes gift card, I’ll just tell you where to send it.

CONGRATULATIONS TO BOTH OF YOU and please email Little Miss Menopause at  thequotegal@yahoo.com with a way to send your prize!

And finally, if anyone can go HERE  to vote for me, maybe I’ll win a silly prize myself.  It takes literally one second. Thank you!

How Captain Von Trapp Chose Between Maria and The Baroness

sound of musicAt long last, we’ve discovered a never seen before authentic “Pros and Cons” list inside the props box from The Sound of Music set. The Captain wrote it to help decide which woman to make his wife and the new mother of his 7 children. Let’s peek, shall we?

Baroness Elsa

PROS

1. She’s got that classy, reserved icy blond, Austrian nobility thing going on. I’m up for the challenge of making her bleat like a mountain goat! 2. Says wise and profound things. “Somewhere out there is a lady who I think will never be a nun.” I wonder what she’d say if she knew I was hoping for a nun who will never EVER be a lady? 3. Easy to end a date with. You don’t have to launch into a whole song and dance routine, “So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, au revoir, sayonara, shalom, etc.” It’s just “bye-bye bitch.”

CONS

1. Not a performer and she’s a bit selfish. I doubt she’d walk out to finish my song for me if I were to break down on stage in the middle of lyrics I know like the back of my hand. 2. She doesn’t really care for yodeling. Which means my best joke will be lost on her. “Knock-knock. Who’s There? Lil Ole Lady. Lil Ole Lady Who?” Ha ha ha! 3. Given half a chance, she’ll send all 7 of my children to Boarding School. Wait, this goes on the pros list.

Fraulein Maria

PROS

1. I sure would like to handle a problem like Maria. I fantasize about being her personal troubleshooter. 2. Has a mathematician background and counts like nobody’s business.  “You are 16 going on 17.” Maybe one day she’ll star in a movie called “10” and introduce me to Bo Derek. 3. Won’t be a chronic dieter like my buddy’s wives. The only scales she’s obsessed with are Do-Re-Mi. 4. I love a woman who’s easy to buy for on Valentine’s or Mother’s Day. I have my list for Maria for the next 5 years. 1. Bright copper kettles. 2. Crisp apple strudel 3. Warm woollen mittens. And I don’t even have to giftwrap (brown paper packages tied up with strings) Easy to please. Aww screw it. Something tells me she’d be just as happy if I didn’t cut the whiskers off kittens. 5. Somewhere in her youth or childhood, she must’ve done something good.  She deserves me! photo (16) 6. Ever see anyone blush like that? I bet she’ll make a beautiful blushing bride. Of course that could be because the train on her wedding gown will be so long and heavy, half of Salzburg will have to carry it down the aisle for her. 7. Whenever there’s a thunderstorm, she’ll invite people into our bed. Mmm, I like me some kink.

CONS

1. She brought music back into the house. And now my kids play the Top 40 at decibels that would blow the roof off a Nazi regime. 2. Obsessed with puppets. Which means she thinks she can pull my strings. 3. She’s not great with names. Keeps forgetting “Kurt.” How will I feel if one night in bed she moans (off key) and says, “Mmm, that feels so good. God bless you, Whatsyourname?” 4. Tea, a drink with jam and bread. Seriously woman? Every single solitary time? I’m a Starbucks shareholder. 5. Hates whistles. I suppose that twisted Snow White fantasy I have of her singing, “Just Whistle While You Work” while sweeping the front porch in a Nun’s habit is out of the question? 6. She might force me to wear boxers she stitches from our dining room blinds. Yeah, but that’s an easy fix. Sell her Singer. It’ll be curtains for that sewing machine of hers! Hey!  As long as I’m considering Thrifty Recycling Movie Heroines, I know a racy raven-haired vixen who also made her gown out of the living room drapes. Maybe there’s a 3rd option here. Who says I can’t be a Cross-Film Actor and marry . . .

Scarlett O’Hara

PROS

1.  That 18 inch waist 2. Never worries about anything — she’ll think about it tomorrow. We all know what “it” is. Heh heh.

CONS

1. Oh who the hell cares anymore?  Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.

Any woman who can tilt her head like this without a neck ache is the one for me!

Any woman who can tilt her head like this without a neck ache is the one for me!

       

 

 

 

 

Please visit me on The Huffington Post to see why I think publishing is similar to Fifty Shades of Grey right HERE

The Blogcademy Awards (The Bloscars!) With a Giveaway Prize!

photo (14)C’mon, admit it.  You just knew you’d find me with this Blog title today, right?  With my love of inventing Blogger Vocabularly (read here) and how I honored the Winter Olympics with “The Writer Olympics” (read here) and Super Bowl Sunday (read here) then it follows there must be an event called “The Bloscars.”

Now let’s walk the Red-Carpet and enter the actual Post to see the grandeur that awaits, shall we?  Beware of the Blogarazzi with their blinding camera flashes, whoops and hollers.  Smile nicely, with that odd, “look over your shoulder at who-the-hell-knows what” type of pose.  Maybe all bloggers should keep looking over their shoulder for the next odd thing to happen to them?photo-217

 THE PRE-CEREMONY TIME WASTERS & A PRIZE!

Welcome! First of all – – instead of Ellen Degeneres and pizza, you’re stuck with me serving Blogdogs on Buns. Children Bloggers get CornBlogs.  Sorry.  I won’t pass a hat around for $ contributions, but please don’t blog one single word about how I didn’t take into account alternative meal options for Blegetarians and Blegans.  We like our blogs meaty here!  i.e. – – “Where’s the Beef  Blog ??”

photo-216Insert your Favorite Opening Dance Sequence Here to the left.  Idina Menzel (pronounce it however you like, but give John Travolta a break- – he’s barely “Staying Alive” since his Saturday Night Fever stint) can also sing “Let It Go” from the animated film, Frozen, which is what happens to Bloggers who refresh their Stats page too much.  Our computer freezes.

And yes, just like last year with Ellen hosting, there will be a Selfie Photo Contest, so let’s take down Twitter…Wordpress!  Not to place any WordPressure on you, but please take a photo of the front page of your Blog the way that it looks on your laptop/computer with you (the proud Blog creator!)  in the photo as well.  Shy, retiring, inhibited, insecure, and/or paranoid Bloggers (that would be me) feel free to just portray your blog alone, without any human in the pic.   Put a link to your photo (Shutterfly, Facebook, any other forum where you can post a picture) in the comments section and the winner (based on the most eye-catching, creative photo) will receive two movie passes. (or the equivalent of such, on a $25 Amazon Gift Card)  Deadline will be this Friday Feb 27th  to post Selfie photos and a winner will be picked and prize awarded on my birthday, March 12th.  Since I will have nothing better to do on that day, other than to sob about not being in my 40’s any longer.

And Now . . . The Blotion Picture Blogcademy Proudly Presents . . . THE BLOSCARS! (think of orchestra rising here)

During the silence that follows each category,  please imagine who would deserve this particular award in your own real life world or Online world that you call your Blogosphere.  I would never be so presumptuous as to start naming Names here!  The idea is to get YOU thinking about the kinds of people (bloggers and non-bloggers alike) that you consciously surround yourself with each and every day.  It CAN make a difference.photo-218

And the Featured Categories Are ????

Best Supportive Commenter:  Who regularly leaves you lots of love?

Best Editor:  Which individual do you count on to give your posts a onceover, so you don’t have blatant errors like “onceover” when published?

Best Original Score UnderScore: (Note: Strikeovers would also fall in this category)

Best Blog Header:  Your eye was drawn immediately!

Best Blog Background:  It compliments, rather than detracts.

Best Song: (Oh!  I feel another contest coming on!)  In the comments section below, please leave the one best song (with either a Title or the well known chorus lyrics) that would best suit your blog.  In other words, you would most want to have this song blasting when someone clicks open your blog.  Give a brief explanation as to why you chose this song. One winner will be announced (same dates given for the Selfie Photo contest above) and awarded a $20 itune Gift Card.  We’re looking again for Creativity here and some Wordplay.  Here’s a not so good Example:  The song “Roar” by Katy Perry should accompany my blog because people always roar with laughter when they read it!

Best Tagger:  Who gets the best traffic from tags?

Best Muse:  Who inspires your ideas?  Which individual do you most find yourself telling to “hold that thought” for a second while you jot something down in your “Blog Notebook”  You do have one of those, right?!?

Best Brusher-Off-er:  Who (in real life) changes the subject the fastest when you bring up your Blog?

Best and Worse Dressed List

Clothing is a huge deal.  I know.  Just not here. And breasts are not going to be mentioned here at all.  If you want to know why, go here.   So alternatively,  there will be no hiring Mr.Blackwell  Blogwell to ogle (blogle) and rave or conversely rant/diss any certain Blogger’sPajamas Attire – – but the following categories will rhyme with the word “Dressed” instead.  You should nod your head right about now and see this as a perfectly “suit”able solution.

Best Jest:  Favorite Non-Serious Blog

Best Guest:  Who regularly has the most interesting Blogger Guests writing for them?

Best Blessed:  Whose Blog seems to have the most Gratitude or Grace?

Best Addressed:  Who takes a Controversial Subject and Nails it?

Best Confessed:  Who takes the opportunity of blogging to bare their soul, show their authentic truth?

Best Assessed:  Who is the Best Reviewer you know.  Books, Movies, Food, etc. Their opinion matters to you!

Best Compressed:  Who can blog in the fewest words you know and still make it work?  Really distill down their ideas so you just get the concentrated bottom line from them?

Best Distressed & Stressed:  Who is always having an issue?  Yes, this could be a Drama Blog, but maybe not?

Best Obsessed:  Who focuses on just one topic every single solitary time, but you love them anyway?

Best Cardiac Arrest:  Who shocks you the most with their outrageousness?

Best Nest:  Which Parent Blogger gets the most “oohs and ahs” because their love of family shines through?

Best Quest:  Who seems to have the loftiest goal or purpose in Blogging?

Best Teenage Blogger who is wise beyond their years:  Hey that doesn’t rhyme?  That’s right, just seeing if you are paying attention.

Best Contest:  Who regularly has Blog Giveaways that excite you?

Best Pest:  Who is that Blogger you wish you could secretly Unfollow?

Best Rest:  Their Blog is where you hang out when you want to unwind and relax.

Best Pressed:  They haven’t been Freshly Pressed, but you think that’s just a matter of time. Either that or they make really good freshly squeezed orange juice.

Best Detest:  Okay, you hate their blog.  You don’t follow it at all, but you’re aware of its presence and you want them to clean up their act.

Best Intelligence Test:  Wow, are they just off the chart smart or what??  Do you even belong there as a reader?  Yep, you do!

Best Request:  They’re the Blog-Pleasers.  They will do what you ask because they want crowd approval.  But do you really know what they’re about?

Best Impressed: They are the equivalent of the  Name   Blog-Dropper who wants you to admire their Blog for the Flash, not the substance.

Best Protest:  They are never going to be happy unless they can keep blogging about how unhappy the world makes them.

Best Mae West:  “Why don’t you come up and see me sometime?”  That’s right, I finally ran out of rhymes that had any connection to blogging! And besides we needed a real movie star right about now.

Along with leaving a comment, Please don’t forget to enter one or both contests above (Selfie & Song) and we’ll see you next year at the BLOSCARS! Also signing up to follow my blog will guarantee you won’t miss the next time I get zany enough to decide to bizarrely tie a Giveaway Contest with a Posting Topic.

Should You “Toy” With an Older Woman?

photo-139Disclaimer:  Occasionally I remember why I call myself “Little Miss Menopause” and do a post related to the topic.
There are board games meant for almost all phases of life – – from Childhood to the Thirty Something Crowd.  But why should a certain gender/age group be left out with nothing but “Old Maid” to entertain them?  Here are some newly revamped fun nights around the kitchen table for the 40 to 60 year-old female demographic.  And men, don’t stop reading here – – you may need to know the rules of the game(s)  if you expect to “play.”
MENOPAUSEOPOLY – – The classic game of monopolizing stuff from your opponents as you wearily drag your little pewter token – – a miniature fan, a Naturalizer high heel shoe, haircoloring kit, Prozac pill, a syringe of Botox, an iron and a thimble (see, I told you it would be classic, therefore still Chauvinistic!) around the board attempting to purchase back the properties of your Mind, Body & Spirit that you once possessed control over. Memory Lane, Sexual Drive, Brain Cell Way, Stability Street, Metabolism Court and Smooth Skin Avenue are just some spots you can land on. The Utilities are represented by Energy & Pep and Hydration. Or take a ride on the Wispy Waist-Line Railroad. But if you land on the unmade bed you must go directly to Never Satisfied Husband, do not Pass the Doctor and do not collect your 200 mg prescription for testosterone.
CHEST – – This is a game of the utmost strategy and wits, wherein you move your Queen many various bra sizes around a black and white checkerboard until you capture your current correct cup size which will vary depending on if you just ate a grain of salt or are up ½ a lb. But breast assured, once you do this, you can confidently say,  “Chestmate!”
HOOTS ON LADDERS – – Best if played directly after a good, satisfying game of “Chest.” The object is to walk by a construction crew and if you can still get any man at all, (even the male parrot on the drywall contractor’s shoulder) to wolf-whistle after giving you the once-over, you win! Batteries sold separately.
I APOLOGIZE – – It’s “Sorry” redone with an Anger Management theme. Simplistic little game with easy to follow rules, 1. I yell or throw my estrogen cream at you. 2. I try to atone while making flimsy hormonal excuses. 3. You forgive me. 4. I do it all over again on the next roll of the dice. Once I grovel enough, I graduate to the brand new 12 step game, “I Surrender” which culminates at the finish line where I sheepishly admit that even my Higher Power has no control over my temper during menopause.
AFFLICTIONARY – – Be the first to draw what ails you and let your partner guess before the timer runs out. You’ll sketch a body with sweat pouring out of it and they’ll guess “a bee sting.” You’ll doodle a giant stomach with lots of excess skin and they’ll guess “fallen arches.” At this point you’ll need a new partner. Makes a great party game until you draw your biggest affliction ever…a realistic picture of all the guests attending who have gotten on your last nerve. They guess correctly. And the Party’s over!  Nite, nite!
THOUGHTZZZZZZEE– – Who needs “Yahtzee” when you can noisily rattle 6 dice in a little jar, simultaneously giving yourself a migraine, just to eventually spill them out on the table to formulate thoughts that are so fleeting in your own head, you usually can’t remember them in time to vocalize, write or act them out. But be sure to scream out “Thoughtzee!!” at the top of your lungs so other players will run out of Tylenol and need to borrow yours. Comes with Tylenol PM bonus bottles so you can put the ZZZZZZ part of the game into your sleep.

 

GET A CLUE! – – Oh that Miss Scarlet – – she’s still sexy and hot, especially with this new Night Sweat edition. But watch out Professor Plum and all other male players – – She’ll conspire with her Gal Pals and then the crime will be “a lethal male bashing with Mrs. White, Mrs. Peacock in the Ballroom with The Mouth” – – the deadliest weapon of all.

Miss Scarlet Nowadays??  Oh No!  Looks like my Mother got to Miss Scarlet and chopped her hair off.  Because she thinks "Women over 40 must have short hair."  What do you think??

Miss Scarlet Nowadays?? Oh No! Looks like my Mother got to Miss Scarlet and chopped her hair off. Because she thinks “Women over 40 must have short hair.” What do you think??

TRIVIAL DISPUTE – – It’s the game of Life…in other words who argues it better? The never-ending quest to always be right is the central theme of this fast-paced question and answer card game played in teams. Remind other players (your children) that you could’ve gone to law school if you hadn’t gotten married and devoted your life completely to raising a family. Fight with them over your borrowing skirts from your teenager’s closet. How else are you supposed to look younger? And that if they told you they were staying late after school but you forgot, it’s still their fault for not reminding you. Always remember to play The Guilt Card (find it at the bottom of the deck) and also you have one free, “Because I said so” pass to be used anytime you appear to be losing. Good luck!

TRAGIC 8 BALL – – The Magic 8 ball just as you remember it, but this time you will receive prophetic answers to all your earth-shattering calamities. Go ahead and ask questions like, “Am I destined to have a muffin top in all my jeans or just the Skinny Jeans?” and “Am I wrong for wanting men to suffer through every single one of these 34 symptoms too?” and of course, “Didn’t Heather Locklear look majorly photo-shopped on the cover of this week’s People magazine?” The answers of course will always be “Reply Hazy, try again” because the “Tragic 8 Ball” is now a fifty year old toy and therefore also going through menopause, with brain-fog of its own.

Now, I’ll race ya to the nearest Toys R Us, where thankfully they still have the plain and simple “RandyLand”   Candyland, with no age limit to the fun it brings!

 

Have a favorite childhood game?  How would you give it a makeover for your generation?

 

But First . . . Lemme NOT Take a Selfie!

photo-405In Breaking News, the word “Selfie” has now made it into the official Scrabble Dictionary during this recent month of Aug, 2014.  And here to tell us more about the story, as well as some of the history of Selfies is our own Roving, Roaming (and Random) Reporter, Little Miss Menopause.

Thank you, News Room.  The first historical documentation of the word “Selfie” occurred in 1964 when some kid named Ralph turned around and pointed his Polaroid camera straight into his own face so he could see how bright the flash actually was.  Dressed in costume for their annual holiday family portrait, his parents framed the little overexposed, Red-Eyed Santa’s Helper, placing it on the Mantle for all to see. That night when company came for Christmas dinner, they bragged . . .

“There’s our Ralphie in a Selfie as an Elfie on the Shelfie.”

Shouldn't these be called "Woofies?"

Shouldn’t these be called “Woofies?”

But today, as cell phone camera popularity surges, the Selfie has become the sort of photography phenomenon that nobody can escape.  I myself, feel that taking portraits should be something intimate and beautiful that’s only shared between two loving and committed people, the Professional Shooter and the Subject – –  but if our society is okay with Technological Masturbation, who am I to argue?

However, many have not anticipated the newest strict laws sweeping the nation.  The Selfie format will quickly be replacing all prior cases where professional photography was previously used and in some cases, legally mandated.  Examples of this will soon be found in your local Department of Motor Vehicles, Passport Offices, County Jails, and even Playboy Magazine.  So how might these professional photographers (who are soon to become jobless) feel about these laws? Listen to my brief interviews.

First I talked with Dick Handle, Head Photographer at Playboy Magazine:

“I don’t know, Little Miss Menopause.  It’s really not gonna work.  First of all, one of the reasons men buy Playboy is because they know a male is posing these girls – – Guys instinctively know what other men wanna see.  If women take their own Selfie and that becomes the centerfold, it’s gonna be all fashion oriented with close-ups of their purses and shoes.  I don’t know any healthy red-blooded male who wants to see a pair of shoes over a pair of bongos like yours.  Know what I mean, heh heh?”

Um, Sorta.  Additionally, Mr. Handle has these suggestions to share, should the “Do It YourSelfie” laws take effect.

TIPS FOR PLAYBOY CENTERFOLD SELFIES

Bring your own high speed Fan and Favorite Cleavage Faker bra.  Look seductively into the lens, lick your lips, and choose one of the following phrases to shout flirtatiously at yourself, while wolf-whistling:

a)  Show me that sexy little pout!

b)  That’s it Baby, the camera loves you!

c)  C’mon Sweetheart, Arch your back – – close your eyes and say “Super Bowl Sunday.”

photo 1-7

Over at the California Crowded Community Criminal County Concourse Correctional Center where they Charge Creepers with Crimes, I spoke with Melvin Mugsly who asked me to say that last sentence three times in a row, quickly.  Just kidding, he actually asked me if he could comment on what would take place if all Alleged incoming Bad Guys took their own official Mug Shots.  And he doesn’t mean pictures to be printed on Starbucks coffee cups, either.

“So you’re tellin’ me some dude who just got brung in from holding up Bank of America is gonna strut into a booth, with a mirror so they can go all pretty boy and smile nice for their Selfie Booking Picture?  I don’t think that’s right, Man.  They be all slumpin’ down in front of the height wall so they look shorter and shit.  Oh, I get what’s happenin’ now!  This here’s one of them joke shows.  Looky here.  This is Candid Camera, right?  I always wanted to be on that thing.”

Not quite Mr. Mugsly.  However he does bring up a good point.  How will these Selfie 10 Most Wanted Posters hanging on walls in the post office, appear to customers?  Gone will be that fierce, “You don’t want to run into me in a dark alley” grimace and instead, many of them might very well look like our own husbands after they mow the lawn and are demanding sex, eh ladies? (But we all know he’ll settle for a cold beer!)

How do we know he's really not a midget wearing high heels?  Selfie Mug Shots will be very deceiving.

How do we know he’s really not a midget wearing high heels? Selfie Mug Shots will be very deceiving.

Next I chatted with Miss Daisy Driver (no relation to Driving Miss Daisy) at the Department of Motor Vehicles and asked her what will happen when people are allowed to snap their own photo for their official driver’s license picture?

“Well, I really don’t think it’s going to change anything at all.  People are already coming in here and writing the answers to “what should you do when you come to a four-way stop?” on their hands so they can pass the test.  Everybody has the eye chart completely memorized so they won’t have to wear glasses.  Women are constantly fudging their weight on the form.  I don’t see what difference it’s going to make if their Selfie picture actually looks half decent, instead of looking like a mutant squashed alien with limp hair and dreadful skin.”

Before I wrap up my feature story, let me just say that there’s also been talk of Selfies infiltrating into the Baby Photography industry.  Instead of professional grown-ups hiding behind expensive equipment with a black velvet cloth draped over it, exclaiming “Say Cheese!” there will be special toy cameras, perhaps a bit more sophisticated than the one pictured below.  Children will be encouraged to jingle a set of keys at themselves, while making goofy clucking sounds with their lips to coax themselves into their first real smiles.  Asian Child Photographer (and chef!)  Goo Goo Ga-Ga Gai Pan was unavailable for comment.

This has been a special featured story from your Roving, Raving (and Writhing!) Reporter, Little Miss Menopause.  And now. . . Back to you.

photo-403

You Can Go Straight to Heck!

Putting this on a travel brochure isn't exactly going to make Hell the new preferred Vacation Spot.

Putting this on a travel brochure isn’t exactly going to make Hell the new preferred Vacation Spot.

As a freelance writer, I sometimes get approached by companies to write unique brochures or think up clever advertising copy.  But I’ve never had a client’s conference call scare the hell outa me like this one did.   That’s because these fellows were hell bent on . . . (wait for it)  giving Hell a makeover.

The Phone Call From Hell

I answered the way I normally do when my Cell rings.

Me:  Hell–

Dante (Cutting me off) Listen to that boys, she was expecting us!

Me:  Uh, no.  HELL-O?  I was just saying Hello.

Mel:  Whatever.  This is Mel from Hell.  You know . . . Hell Enterprises.   We heard your writing is on fire.  Hot as hell.

Me:  (blushing)  Why you little devil, you.  Flattery will get you everywhere.

Harry:  Yeah, we need a new image.  We’re not profiting in the whole “AfterLife” trend.  We don’t know how to compete with Heaven.

Dante:  That’s right, we can’t hold a candle to Heaven’s slogans.  They’ve got “Heaven Sent.”  And “Thank Heaven.”  Oh, don’t forget “In Seventh Heaven” and “A Match made in Heaven.”

Me:  Kind of ironic you can have a “Helluva” good time in heaven, huh?   But haven’t you ever heard the saying, “Something stinks to high heaven?”  Their reputation’s not exactly 100% blemish free.

Mel:  See boys?  I knew Miss Menopause would go to Hell and back for us.   Got any other brilliant ideas?

Me:  Lemme see if I can work up a nice, new Public Relations campaign and I’ll get back to you.

Harry:  This better not cost too much, ya hear?

Dante:  That’s right!  Give ’em Hell, Harry!

Me: (unable to resist) As far as my rates go, if I do my best work, there could be Hell to Pay.

But Then . . . All Hell Broke Loose!

After the phone call, I froze with fear.  Indeed, if hell froze over, there wouldn’t be a snowball’s chance in hell that I could come up with something to give Hell a positive spin.  What was I thinking?  Maybe the Devil made me do it.

The first thing I noticed when I typed the word on my Smartphone, it would autocorrect “Hell” to “He’ll.”  That got me thinking that tweaking Hell’s name ever so slightly could be just the thing it needed.  Hmmm, “Who the Hill do you think you are?” might just catch on.  What a difference a vowel can make!

But then again, substituting “Hill” might remind people of a “Hill of beans” and “Finding their thrill on Blueberry Hill.”  From that kind of Hill, it would only be a Slippery Slope to marching, “Over Hill, Over Dale…”

Nah, back to the drawing board.

Hell’s Kitchen

I always feel more creative when I take my mind off the subject.  Hungry, I went into the kitchen and ate some deviled eggs.  Then I frosted a devil’s food cake for dinner.  Food wasn’t the answer.  Maybe housecleaning would help.  I ran my Dirt Devil vacuum over the carpet.  I know!  I needed entertainment.  First I danced to “Devil With the Blue Dress on,” then watched the movie, “The Devil Wears Prada.  Sheesh, could “The Devil in Miss Jones” be far behind?

But I knew I needed to keep busy – – after all, “idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”  And what in the Hell was I gonna tell Harry, Dante, & Mel?

SPEAKING OF THE DEVIL . . .

When the phone rang again, I thought I would answer it differently this time.

Me:  Hi Guys, I was just thinking of you. Were your ears Burning?

Dante:  Not funny.

Harry:  So what’s your new plan?

Me: (nervously)  Alright, open minds, right?  You wanna change public perception, yes?  So we need a new Mascot.  The Devil is too Red and Pointy. You want something Rounder, more circular, something kids like.

Some parents feel like they've been through hell after a trip to Disneyland.

Some parents feel like they’ve been through hell after a trip to Disneyland.

MelMickey Mouse ain’t exactly available.

Me:  I was thinking more like a jar of mayonnaise.  And it’s already got your name on it, too!   “Hellmann’s Mayo.”  Whadya think?

Dante:  Where did ya find this crazy broad, Mel?

Mel:  I don’t eat mayonnaise.  And what’s wrong with pointy?  We like those ears and that tail.

The Devil is in the details.

Me:  Okay, but you gotta abandon the Fiery and Forever association.  “Burning in Eternal Hell” doesn’t exactly sell like hotcakes.  Maybe it can be just a temporary thing.  Like it Fades after 10 Washes?”

Harry:  Nobody has to go straight to hell.  They can always take the Scenic Route.

Me: (encouraging)  That’s sweet.  I like it.  But let’s get back to the Sales.  What can be sold?

Dante:  You can always sell your soul.

Me:  Watch that Creep Factor,  Dante.  How about a fun board game with a pitchfork on the lid?  People love to play Devil’s Advocate.

Harry:  Not interested.

Me:  Postcards from hell?  Vacation from hell?   Ooh!  Husbands from hell!  Women seem very attracted to that.  Or a new car called, “Hell On Wheels?”  A brand of bottled H2O called, “Come Hell or High Water?”

Mel:  That all ya got, Kiddo?

Me:  (brightening)  Okay, brace yourself.  The other side uses, “A Stairway to Heaven.” Right?   So we’ll make you guys “An Escalator to Hell.”

After they slammed the phone down on me, I realized I couldn’t do this kind of thing without help.  That was it!    H-E-L-P!

HELP Is On The Way!

It wasn’t a vowel that needed replacing, it was a consonant.

I wrote an entire marketing plan, highlighting the virtues of changing “Hell” to “Help.”  Everybody needs a little Help now and then.  It’s more comfortable giving someone Help than it is to give someone Hell.   Nobody minds asking for Help.   There was a good movie out recently called, “The Help.”  The Beatles even had a hit song, “Help!”  It was a brilliant plan, but would they buy it?

I could get lucky.  This might just work.  I emailed the whole thing off to them.

Days went by and I didn’t hear anything back.  I was getting a bit angry at being ignored.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

I really tried my best and had given it my all.

The Road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

I didn’t want to Battle these guys anymore.

War is Hell.

Hell’s Help’s Angels

When I answered the phone, Dante was singing another Beatles song, “I get by with a little HELL from my friends.”  No, no, no!  Please don’t let this thing backfire.  But his sidekicks sounded enthusiastic. . .

Mel:  You’re a Genius!  Changing “Hell” to “Help” was exactly the push into the public eye we needed!

Harry:  That’s right.  We’ve never felt more loved and wanted.

Me:  Wow, so you like it?

Dante:  Like it??  The entire country is talking about us.  But how did you get so many businesses to put our new slogan on a sign in their window so quickly?

Me:  What new slogan?

Mel:  “Help Wanted!”

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

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

DEAR LITTLE MISS MENOPAUSE…

 

Dear LMM~

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

A Gentle Reader

Which actress did you like best playing Mrs. Kravitz?

Which actress did you like best playing Mrs. Kravitz?

 

 

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

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

Little Miss Menopause

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

 

Dear LMM~

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

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

 

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

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

Little Miss Menopause

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

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

 

Dear LMM~

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

Withering in Wisteria Lane

 

Dear Withering in the Fictional Street from that Television Show,

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

Little Miss Menopause

 

Dear LMM~

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

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

 

Dear Fixated,

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

Little Miss Menopause

Page 69 is especially revealing!

Page 69 is especially revealing!

 

Dear LMM~

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

Skeptical

 

Dear Skeptical,

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

So . . . The Dog Ate Your Email?

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

“I’m lost and I have important info!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

DIDN’T YOU GET THE MEMO???

 

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

Drizella

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

 

Garfunkel,

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

Simon

 

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

Ken

 

Sonny,

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

Cher

 

Siskel~

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

Ebert

 

Okay Peter,

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

Tinkerbell

 

Shalom Dr. Seuss:

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

National Council of Jewish Mothers

 

Hey Abbott~

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

Finally, "Hu" IS on first!

Finally, “Hu” really IS on first!

Costello

 

To Dorothy (and your little dog ToTo too!)

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

What a world!

Elphaba

 

Siegfried,

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

Roy

 

Adam & Eve,

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

Your One & Only,

God

 

Our Beloved Snow White,

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

The Seven Dwarfs

 

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

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

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

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

I never got that text.

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Has Your Muse Taken a Snooze? (Or Worse, Blown a Fuse??)

photo-362Got writer’s block?  You might want to try what I did….

An Interview with My Muse

Me:  So….what gives?  You’re so quiet in there.  You gotta come up with something new to get me going.  I never have anything nice to post like all the other Bloggers do.

Maisy Musey:  You gotta be kidding me!  You’ve got a closet full of Inspiration.  And…. You just got Freshly Pressed. What more do you want from me?

Me:  That ratty old thing?  That’s been hanging in there since Valentine’s Day.  Besides, it was just a coincidence they picked that one.   You never give me anything new and exciting anymore.

Maisy Musey:  (sighs) Here we go.   And what’s up with my name?  We’ve gotta change it.  I can’t work like this.  It’s depressing.

Me:  Okay, okay – –  I can understand feeling a little out of sorts after WordPress featured us.  The letdown after the spike in stats.  And maybe the intense pressure to come up with something else as a follow-up.  But you can shake these Muse Blues. I know you can!  Here – – Lemme sing you a little song — “a Muse-ical” if you will.  “la-la-la – – The Muse will come out tomorrow….betcha bottom dollar that….”

Minnie Musey:  Shut up.  And stop with all these cutesie names.  I am NOT a-mused.

Me:  Yes, you most certainly ARE a muse.  And you’re my muse.  You’re just a bit mixed-up.  “Musion Confusion” they call it.   Here….try a better, stronger name.

Moses Muse:  Oh, so its Moses now, is it?  What am I- – a Jew’s Muse?   Listen you, I’ve paid my Muse Dues.  You got what you wanted.  I’m on strike now.  That’s right.  You heard me – –   I.  Refuse.  to.  Muse.

Me:  What?!  With my new followers?  What am I supposed to do?

Moses Muse:  Tell them you have some News.  Your Muse took his departure Cues after finally getting some Clues and feeling Used.   He was tired of Cruising for a Musing Bruising.

Me:  I don’t believe this!  All my readers will jump to the wrong Musion Conclusion now. Like I’ve given you a Musion Contusion or something.  Yeah, sure.  Besides,  you just can’t go into Musion Seclusion.  How am I going to keep up with the “I’m really a witty writer” Illusion?  Please!?

Sybil:  Has it ever occurred to you that you don’t even have a Muse? That you just talk to yourself??  You do have a track record you know.photo-363

Me:  You miserable Excuse for a Muse.  You just watch.  I’m gonna Peruse a famous writer’s Muse.  Someone with profound, Profuse Muse Views.   A Muse who won’t Accuse.  Hemingway’s Muse!  Now that’s a great Muse for me to Choose to Reuse!!

Ernie:  (Belches)  Hey man!  I am definitely not the Muse for you.  I’m a Male Muse.  Into minimalism.  Not all that girly chit-chat.  Any of these sound familiar?  1.  Farewell to Arms  2.  The Sun Also Rises   3.  The Old Man and the Sea. (And my strong personal favorite) . . .  4.   For Whom the Bell Tolls?

Me:  Don’t give me that Muse-o,  Macho B.S.  You’re sensitive deep down, I know it.   You could have easily made those titles into 1.  Farewell to Feminine Charms  2.  The Daughter Also Sets (the table)  3.   The Cold Man and His Tea.  (And a terrific wedding planner called…) 4.  “For the Groom Rochelle Controls”

Ernie:  Okay, Miss Smartie Pants Blogger….you don’t need a muse.  Just take all the classics and tweak ’em with your  own little womanly touch.  See how far it gets you.

Me:  You don’t have to ask me twice. Go back to the Booze, Hemingway Muse!

Little Miss Menopause’s Take on Literature Greats

1.  Crime and Punishment – – Grime and Tarnishment  (A Housekeeping Guide)

2.  Sense and Sensibility – – Blintz and Minceability  (A Cookbook)

3,  Wuthering Heights – –  Withering Nights  (A Sex Manual After Age 50)

4.  The Importance of Being Earnest – – The Importance of Being an Internist – –  (How To convince your kids to become a doctor)

5.  The Catcher in the Rye – – Scratch Her in the Eye  (What to do when you find the woman your husband cheated with)

6.  Red Badge of Courage – – Shred Bag to Discourage  (A Shopaholics Recovery Bible)

7.   Great Expectations – –   Weight Fluctuations   (It’s normal to put on a few pounds throughout the monthly cycle)

8.  War and Peace – – Drawer of Fleece  (Sweats ARE okay on weekends)

9.  Scarlett Letter – – Car-Knit Sweater (Driving Hobbies while your hubby takes the wheel)

10.  Call of the Wild – – Bawl of the Child  (Beyond Time-Out Punishments for your Little One)

Okay, alright. Those are awful.   I admit it.  I need my old Muse back.  Nobody should Lose their Muse.  I promise to be kind, grateful and most of all to think of a dignified name.  That’s right  – – I, Little Miss Menopause, do solemnly swear to attend a support group to stop “Muse Abuse.”  The meetings are held in the local Museum, of course.

And how do you treat your writer’s Muse when it goes Mute??

 

OMG! God Is Everywhere. . . Online!

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

Godd’s Profile on LinkedIn

PROFESSIONS:

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

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

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

4.  Beef Industry (Holy Cow!)

5.  Math Teacher (Your Numbers Up!)

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

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

So I checked him out there, too….

Godd’s Profile on Facebook

Divorced From:  Betsy   (Heavens To Betsy!)

Children:   Two

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

Son – Susej  (Dyslexia?)

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

Favorite Food:  Angel Food Cake

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

Favorite Movie:  All Dogs Go To Heaven

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


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

 

“Godd With a Blog”

Where I part the          Red         C         C’s

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

 

COMMENTS  (3)

 

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

 

 

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

 

photo-180

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


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

Godd’s Profile on Match.Com

 

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

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

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


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

No OMG’s pls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

The worst kind of abuse!

The worst kind of abuse!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They make an eggcellent case!

They make an eggcellent case!

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

Filbert:  Can I cashew you a question?

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

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

Oscar Meyer:  Oh c’mon now, Honeybunch.

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

Oscar Meyer:  How so, Sweetheart?

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

Let the chips fall where they may!

Let the chips fall where they may!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hebrew National:  And Kosher Products?

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

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

Ketchup on the Gossip!

Ketchup on the Gossip!

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

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

 

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

http://theundergroundwriter.wordpress.com/2014/04/06/what-dogs-think-about-humans/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Blogcademy Awards (The Bloscars!) – Will You Win?

Image Credit to the Skyscanner.com who for some reason uses this word (which I thought I made up) to run a contest for Travel Bloggers. They appear to be an airline?

Image Credit to the Skyscanner.com who for some reason uses this word (which I thought I made up!) to run a contest for Travel Bloggers. They appear to be an Airline.

C’mon, admit it.  You just knew you’d find me with this Blog title today, right?  With my love of inventing Blogger Vocabularly (read here) and how I honored the Winter Olympics with “The Writer Olympics” (read here) and Super Bowl Sunday (read here) then it follows there must be an event called “The Bloscars.”

Now let’s walk the Red-Carpet and enter the actual Post to see the grandeur that awaits, shall we?  Beware of the Blogarazzi with their blinding camera flashes, whoops and hollers.  Smile nicely, with that odd, “look over your shoulder at who-the-hell-knows what” type of pose.  Maybe all bloggers should keep looking over their shoulder for the next odd thing to happen to them?photo-217

THE PRE-CEREMONY TIME WASTERS & A PRIZE!

Welcome! First of all – – instead of Ellen Degeneres and pizza, you’re stuck with me serving Blogdogs on Buns. Children Bloggers get CornBlogs.  Sorry.  I won’t pass a hat around for $ contributions, but please don’t blog one single word about how I didn’t take into account alternative meal options for Blegetarians and Blegans.  We like our blogs meaty here!  i.e. – – “Where’s the Beef  Blog ??”

photo-216Insert your Favorite Opening Dance Sequence Here to the left.  Idina Menzel (pronounce it however you like, but give John Travolta a break- – he’s barely “Staying Alive” since his Saturday Night Fever stint) can also sing “Let It Go” from the animated film, Frozen, which is what happens to Bloggers who refresh their Stats page too much.  Their computer freezes.

And yes, there will be a Selfie Photo Contest, so let’s take down Twitter…Wordpress!  No WordPressure, but please take a photo of the front page of your Blog the way that it looks on your laptop/computer with you (the proud Blog creator!)  in the photo as well.  Shy, retiring, inhibited, insecure, and/or paranoid Bloggers (that would be me) feel free to just portray your blog alone, without any human in the pic.   Put the photo or a link to the photo (since I don’t know if it’s even possible to post a photo here?  Some of the higher-tech Bloggers will tell me, no doubt) in the comments section and the winner (based on the most eye-catching, creative photo) will receive two movie passes. (or the equivalent of such, on an Amazon Gift Card)  Deadline will be this Friday, the 7th of March to post Selfie photos and a winner will be picked and prize awarded on my birthday, March 12th.  Since I will have nothing better to do on that day, other than to sob about turning 50.

And Now . . . The Blotion Picture Blogcademy Proudly Presents . . . THE BLOSCARS! (think of orchestras rising here)

During the silence that follows each category,  please imagine who would deserve this particular award in your own real life world or Online world that you call your Blogosphere.  I would never be so presumptuous as to start naming Names here!  The idea is to get YOU thinking about the kinds of people (bloggers and non-bloggers alike) that you consciously surround yourself with each and every day.  It CAN make a difference.

And the Featured Categories Are ????

Best Supportive Commenter:  Who regularly leaves you lots of love?

Best Editor:  Which individual do you count on to give your posts a onceover, so you don’t get blatant errors like “onceover” when published?

Best Original Score UnderScore: (Note: Strikeovers would also fall in this category)

Best Blog Header:  Your eye was drawn immediately!

Best Blog Background:  It compliments, rather than detracts.

Best Song: (Oh!  I feel another contest coming on!)  In the comments section below, please leave the one best song (with either a Title or the well known chorus lyrics) that would best suit your blog.  In other words, you would most want to have this song blasting when someone clicks open your blog.  Give a brief explanation as to why you chose this song. One winner will be announced (same dates given for the Selfie Photo contest above) and awarded a $20 itune Gift Card.  Looking again for Creativity here and some Wordplay. (See InspireTheWorld2Day (who happens to be the first entry) in the comments section below for a clear example.)

Best Tagger:  Who gets the best traffic from tags?

Best Motivator:  Who inspires your ideas?  Which individual do you most find yourself telling to “hold that thought” for a second while you jot something down in your “Blog Notebook”  You do have one of those, right?!?

Best Brusher-Off-er:  Who changes the subject the fastest when you bring up your Blog?

Best and Worse Dressed List

Clothing is a huge deal.  I know.  Just not here. And breasts are not going to be mentioned here at all.  If you want to know why, go here.   So alternatively,  there will be no hiring Mr. Blackwell  Blogwell to ogle (blogle) and rave or conversely rant/diss any certain Blogger’s Pajamas Attire – – but the following categories will rhyme with the word “Dressed” instead.  You should nod your head right about now and see this as a perfectly suitable solution.

Best Jest:  Favorite Non-Serious Blog

Best Guest:  Who regularly has the most interesting Blogger Guests writing for them?

Best Blessed:  Whose Blog seems to have the most Gratitude or Grace?

Best Addressed:  Who takes a Controversial Subject and Nails it?

Best Confessed:  Who takes the opportunity of blogging to bare their soul, show their authentic truth?

Best Assessed:  Who is the Best Reviewer you know.  Books, Movies, Food, etc. Their opinion matters to you!

Best Compressed:  Who can blog in the fewest words you know and still make it work?  Really distill down their ideas so you just get the concentrated bottom line from them?

Best Distressed & Stressed:  Who is always having an issue?  Yes, this could be a Drama Blog, but maybe not?

Best Obsessed:  Who focuses on just one topic every single solitary time, but you love them anyway?

Best Cardiac Arrest:  Who shocks you the most with their outrageousness?

Best Nest:  Which Parent Blogger gets the most “oohs and ahs” because their love of family shines through?

Best Quest:  Who seems to have the loftiest goal or purpose in Blogging?

Best Teenage Blogger who is wise beyond their years:  Hey that doesn’t rhyme?  That’s right, just seeing if you are paying attention.

Best Contest:  Who regularly has Blog Giveaways that excite you?

Best Pest:  Who is that Blogger you wish you could secretly Unfollow?

Best Rest:  Their Blog is where you hang out when you want to unwind and relax.

Best Pressed:  They haven’t been Freshly Pressed, but you think that’s just a matter of time. Either that or they make really good freshly squeezed orange juice.

Best Detest:  Okay, you hate their blog.  You don’t follow it at all, but you’re aware of its presence and you want them to clean up their act.

Best Intelligence Test:  Wow, are they just off the chart smart or what??  Do you even belong there as a reader?  Yep, you do!

Best Request:  They’re the Blog-Pleasers.  They will do what you ask because they want crowd approval.  But do you really know what they’re about?

Best Impressed: They are the equivalent of the  Name   Blog-Dropper who wants you to admire their Blog for the Flash, not the substance.

Best Protest:  They are never going to be happy unless they can keep blogging about how unhappy the world makes them.

Best Mae West:  “Why don’t you come up and see me sometime?”  That’s right, I finally ran out of rhymes that had any connection to blogging! And besides we needed a real movie star right about now.

Along with leaving a comment, Please don’t forget to enter one or both contests above (Selfie & Song) and we’ll see you next year at the BLOSCARS! Also signing up to follow my blog will guarantee you won’t miss the next time I get zany enough to decide to bizarrely tie a Giveaway Contest with a Posting Topic.

UNUSUAL BOOKS FOR THE NOOKS (And Crannies in Your Life)

Bonus if you know why this image correlates with the title of this post!

Bonus if you know why this image correlates with the title of this post!

Disclaimer: This topic has no author turning over in his grave. It’s all in fun.

Let’s turn “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” into “If You Give Your Spouse Some Nookie.” I think books should grow with us as we age. I don’t want to keep packing up my beloved classic children’s literature into cardboard boxes to be rummaged through by sticky hands at garage sales for a quarter. Any writer expecting to have their children’s book become a Classic AND sustain a permanent place on our bookshelves needs to offer an intriguing 2nd Half-Of-Life version. We are no longer wearing footie pajamas and reading in our bean-bag chairs. Now we’re donning housecoats (what IS that type of apparel for, anyhow?) and reclining in our Barcalounger chairs.

In that spirit, here are some new “Grown-Up” Title modifications and a few of my recommendation notes to the Author.

SELF-HELP SECTION

Goodnight Prune (Good Night Moon)

Are You My Udder? (Are You My Mother?) This one should be carefully illustrated so as not to offend certain body types.

Withering Nights (Wuthering Heights)

Les Menopausals – Hey Vic – – You were so close with the whining women, the depressing outlook, and the frumpy dresses.…just kill off that pretty little Cozette.

Are You There Bod? It’s Me, Menopause (Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret) – – Self-explanatory content but I suggest the Dust Jacket have a fun-house mirror on it.

Poky Little Progesterone (Poky Little Puppy) – – Hurry back home, sex drive!

Mopey Chick (Moby Dick) – – On Depression

The Legend of Weepy Wallow – – On Grief and Sadness

Scratch Her In The Eye! (Catcher In the Rye) – – Yup. When the Depression Fades, There’s Rage!

STILL MORE  SELF-HELP SECTION! (And we need it…Oy!)

Shred Bag to Discourage (Red Badge of Courage) New Tips For old Shopaholics

Calm Lawyer (Tom Sawyer) A list of Divorce Attorneys who don’t yell.

Struck Thin (Huck Finn) The latest “Lose 10 pounds overnight” diet book.

All of Her Lists (Oliver Twist) Household Organization book

All of Her Cysts (Oliver Twist) Medical Diagnostic Manual

PURE FICTION

Kvetcher and the Rye – – An older Jewish woman visits a Deli

The Middle Spouse I’ll Remarry Series (The Little House on the Prairie Series) – – Includes Titles:  The Middle Spouse on the Contrary, Middle Spouse is Scary & Middle Spouse is on Dairy – – about a Lactose Intolerant Hubby who falls off the wagon with ice-cream.

Games the Defiant Teach (James and the Giant Peach)  – – Spy/Espionage novel about rebellious grown children who give aging parents wrong directions on how to play Words With Friends and Candy Crush.

Sale of Two Pretties (Tale of Two Cities) – – A couple of well-preserved, middle aged women become Call Girls

Pat The Money! (Pat The Bunny) – -Latest Wall Street Thriller…comes with a velveteen dollar bill.

Nancy Drew a Most Wanted Photo, to Help Police Find Her Deadbeat Ex-Husband – Enough said? Mystery solved!

Bi-Curious Georgia Series – – Includes Titles:  Injurious Georgia, Spurious Georgia and Luxurious Georgia (after the divorce settlement)

Court or Oy! (Corduroy) Yes, Lots of lawsuit books coming out.

Ramona the Best Chest is Never A Pest!

Henry Huggins & Henrietta Kissings – A match made in Beverly Cleary heaven.

Wilma Wantsa (Dark) Chocolate (Satis)factory (Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory)

PURELY ADULT SECTION

(For those of us who haven’t thrown in the sheets just yet.)

Where the Wild Flings Are! (Where? Where??)

Charlotte’s Web of Sexual Deceit!

Pat the (Playboy) Bunny!

Rebecca Of Little Blackbook Charm

The Sketcher and the Thigh (That J.D. Salinger, gosh he sure is prolific!) – – Here I’m envisioning a coffee table artistic book of classy nudes.

Hop On Cop – – Dr. Seuss meets strippers in uniform!

Lean Legs & Gam (Green Eggs & Ham) – – yeah, I could have gone for an exercise book here, but Fetish seems more fun.

Challenge: In a comment below, Think of your own fave child/teen book and try to “Adultersize” a new title. Or leave one for me (to try!) to do.

Forget Aesop’s Fables, I’ve Got ‘Aesop’s Fails!’

Note: There is a far different outcome in the fable pictured here when the subject is female. See below.

There’s been some astounding news in literary history!  It has just been discovered that there was an entire second set of Aesop’s Fables written for his poor, feeble wife, who was battling chronic middle age.  Let’s take a quick peek, shall we?

The Crow(’s Feet) and the Pitcher (of Moisturizer)

A 48-year-old woman, (noticing crow’s feet and other crevices that were certainly not present yesterday) reflected in her looking glass as she came upon a pitcher of Oil of Olay.  Alas, its creamy contents were so low, that she could not reach down far enough to get at it with her chipped nail-polished finger.  Try as she might, she finally gave up in grave despair. Then a thought came to her and she searched for a pebble.  Making due with her cholesterol lowering capsules instead, she took one and dropped it into the pitcher.  She dropped still another and another, until one by one, she finished up the entire prescription.  At which point she promptly switched to her Xanax tablets. With each dropping of the panic attack medication, the contents of the pitcher rose a little higher until at long last she was able to scoop up the overpriced mineral oil to quench her overly dry skin so she could attend her 30th high school reunion.

Moral:  “Little by Little Does the Trick.”  And A little Anxiety goes a long way toward “Moisturization Motivation.”

The Stairclimber, The Elliptical, and The Ass

The Stairclimber and the Elliptical conspired together to make weary and sore the Ass of new gym member, Minny Paz. Presently they began to feel a tad cocky, although to be certain, no cock was in the vicinity of this particular weight room. (Indeed, the Cock hangs out with the Lion and the Sly Fox at 24 Hour Fitness around the corner, but that’s another fable for another blog) Nevertheless the two pieces of equipment were laughing merrily as the poor Ass grew exhausted and flabbier by the moment. When her so called friend, (a former beauty queen who shall remain unnamed) came thru the entrance, she ridiculed the poor ass, which felt so depressed it sunk lower and lower with the help of gravity, to the ground. The washed-up, has-been beauty queen elegantly climbed onto the Stairclimber with finesse and a flourish, when to her dismay, her long golden tresses caught in the mechanism as the Elliptical looked on and laughed uproariously.  Two staff members came and put “Out of Order” signs on both machines and offered Minny Paz a job as the front receptionist where she could sit on her beloved ass all day long while her “friend” (who now conveniently referred to herself as Rapunzel) went to buy new conditioner.

Moral: “Inconsiderate and ill-matched alliances generally end in ruin; and the woman who compasses the destruction of her neighbor is often caught in her own snare. Or her hair, as the case may be.   In other words: Avoid the gym at all costs.

A Woman On a Sweet Mission

A woman blocked the doorway of a See’s candy store, refusing all would-be customers from entering for their free sample. She had just come from a Weight Watcher meeting and was feeling quite slighted by the scale. “What a selfish old lady,” uttered a Jennifer Aniston lookalike.  “She cannot eat the candy herself, yet she refuses to allow those who can an indulgent moment.”

Moral: “We should not deprive others of blessings because we cannot enjoy them ourselves.” (Unless some new research suddenly portrays milk-chocolate caramel blessings to be unusually healthy, then it’s a free-for-all-binge for every deprived soul in the land. Good luck.)

Wine, Women, & Whine

An older divorced woman went on a girl’s night out where there was a lot of male bashing taking place. As the handsome waiter served their final round of wine, the woman fluttered her eyelashes in his direction.  The chagrined waiter immediately picked up his cell phone, snapped a pic of the woman and posted it on Facebook, tagging her as “Chlamydia Lydia.”  He then placed the bill for the entire night on her plate.

Moral:  A woman is known by the company she keeps. And it will cost her dearly.  Instead, invite your bitter friends to see Eat, Pray, Love on DVD at your own house.

The Milkmaid And Her Mask

Still another poor, down-trodden maiden going thru a mid-life crisis proceeded to have one cosmetic surgery procedure after another. Cheek implants, brow lifts, frown lines, laugh lines, nasolabial folds, marionette lines, double chin, and an upper eyelid blepharoplasty (say that three times fast) were all on the menu for improvement. When all was said and done, she met the man of her dreams (A local wealthy Miller?) who proposed marriage to her on bended knee if she could answer but one tricky question. “Can you go to Yugoslavia?” The woman’s smooth skinned and unlined face turned into an anguished grimace as she hesitatingly sung, “You go Slavia and I go Sleevia…Let’s call the whole thing off!” then she asked if she could use a lifeline and phone a friend? The man swiftly took her gal pal’s cell number and went on his way.

Moral: A Fair Face is Of Little Use Without Good Sense. Also don’t confuse “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?” with “Who Wants to MARRY A Millionaire?” with “The Voice” and with “The Swan” if you’re empty-headed and need help paying your cosmetic surgery bills.

 The Sly as a Fox Woman and the Grapes

There once was a rare sale in the produce section of Whole Paycheck Foods Grocery Store. In particular stood out the shiniest, firmest, juiciest looking red globe grapes ever to be beholden.  When the stock ran low, a newly menopausal woman (prone to shopping related mood swings) reached for the display, but presently a quicker and calmer young woman swept the last of the bunch into her cart. “Who wants those grapes anyhow?” the first woman said, nose upturned, “They’re from Chile and on the Dirty Dozen list. It’s only organic grapes for these lips. They’re also high on the Glycemic Index, so good luck with that diabetes. Nanny nanny boo boo!”

Moral: There are many who pretend to despise and belittle that which is beyond their reach.  Also Whole Foods charges an arm and a leg and the produce is just as good at Trader Joes.

The Little Woman Who Lived In a Shoe But Cried “Backache!”

In a size 7.5 very narrow, high heeled shoe, (with just 1.5 bathrooms) lived a little old woman who didn’t know what to do. (Bear with Mr. Aesop here for a moment; research shows he had sympathy brain-fog for his menopausal wife and often mixed nursery rhymes up with his fables.) She had so many children and so much lacework and Velcro tugging, she didn’t know what to do. Plus her cooking tasted like old shoe leather. Every night, upon tucking the kids in (and blessing their soles) she would blow loudly on her shoehorn for neighbors to come help with her next day’s chores.  Complaining of lower back issues, one evening, t’was summoned the Village Chiropractor who attempted to set her straight. “You live in cramped quarters. There’s nothing wrong with your back that a size 8, extra wide shoe with an orthotic insert wouldn’t cure.” And nobody ever helped her again.

Moral: A Liar might get a free adjustment once, but Hypochondria and Vanity require going up a shoe size.  And there’s seldom a wolf involved unless the chiropractor has just come from a Halloween costume party.

The North Wind and the Sun (Oh Yeah, and the Fan)

One day the wind and the sun were arguing over who was more powerful and so they held a contest to see which one could get the 49 year-old (and holding!) pitiful woman traveling on a winding road to remove her fake fur wrap. Over and over again as the Sun and Wind did their thing, they watched in surprise and horror as the woman unwrapped and wrapped herself up repeatedly within a ten-minute time span, regardless of how hard or soft the wind blew or how brightly the sun shone. “WTF?!” (This popular online  acronym occurred to them centuries before it was a fad) as they watched the woman withdraw a pocket fan from her purse and smile victoriously as she took fate into her own wrinkled hands.

Moral: Gentle persuasion or brute force can be interchangeable.  But a woman with a battery operated portable device can laugh in the face of all elements.