Behind the Scenes With Famous Diet/Health Gurus

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Weight Watchers: Hmmm, Where’s Oprah? Oh well, I’d like to call this monthly meeting to order please. We have lots of business to take care of. Who wants to raise the first issue of public awareness that we’d like to put out there?
Jenny Craig: I’d like to bring back the idea that three prepackaged meals a day plus one snack in a vacuum sealed bag will promote a nutritious, convenient, healthy lifestyle, and be an effective way to lose weight.
Atkins: I honestly don’t think people will swallow that nonsense anymore. Now that word has gotten out about processed foods — they know to avoid anything that comes in a box or container.
South Beach Diet: And don’t forget many of them have learned to read labels and eschew anything they can’t pronounce.
Jenny Craig:  Eschew?? My, aren’t we fancy? Well I can rename all my ingredients so they only have one or two syllables! Where exactly is South beach anyhow? South of what??
Paleo: Honestly Jenny, public perception supports the research. Everyone wants to start eating like their ancestors did in the olden days, before there was cardboard, cellophane, and Saran Wrap. You know — stuff they can gather naturally, like nuts, berries, roots, and squirrels.
Nutrisystem:  Oh shut up, you stupid Caveman. That’s never gonna trump prepared meals conveniently delivered straight to their dining room table.
Weight Watchers:  Okay folks. I’m gonna table this discussion, (no pun intended) for a moment while we shift from public awareness to public scareness. What’s up with eggs? It’s been a long time since people have panicked over them for cholesterol reasons. Is it time to put that little tidbit out there again?
Pritikin:  Isn’t there a reliable formula for us to decide when eggs are bad? Something that’s over-easy to remember and will scramble all the facts?
SlimFast Shakes: I believe it goes like this: Eggs starts with “E” and that’s the fifth letter in the alphabet which is an odd number, just like 2017. And “Odd” starts with “O” just like “Out” so eggs are gonna be OUT this year.
Weight Watchers:  Perfect, I’ll send a memo to the news channels and talk show hosts and we’ll put the fear of God back into them. Now before we change our advice about eating ‘organic’ food to eating ‘orgasmic’ food, let’s deal with this whole good fat versus bad fat phenomenon, shall we? What are we claiming is the difference again?
Atkins: Every single fat is not just good, it’s utterly fantastic. There are NO bad fats, only bad carbs.
Eat According to Your Blood Type: Well not so fast there, my Good Man. That’s only true if you’re O positive and trying to boss everyone around about carbohydrates. What about the rest of the population with types A, B, AB and . . .
Atkins: Are you stereotyping my blood?
Pritikin: Is that even a thing? And where’s Oprah and her little wagon filled with animal fat?
Atkins: Well just for the record, I definitely don’t have O Positive blood running thru my veins.
Weight Watchers: We’ll take a short break while Dr. Atkins gets a finger prick.
Atkins: Who died and left you in charge?
Weight Watchers: Uh you did, Dr. Atkins. In 2003 to be precise.
Pritikin: And rumor has it, you croaked from a massive heart attack because your arteries were so clogged with plaque. Whatya got to say for yourself now, Mr. FineFat?
Zone Diet: Lay off him. He was killed when he hit his head on the slippery pavement. Everyone knows the real culprit in our modern day diet is sugar. Ask Oprah. Where is she?
SugarBusters: (raises a Diet Coke bottle) I’ll drink to that!
Jared Fogle From Subway Sandwich Fame: So diet sodas don’t cause dementia and strokes like YouTube says? That’s great news because I’ve been telling everyone to order a Big Gulp with their six-inch turkey sub and bag of chips. That’s how I lost 245 pounds….with just six inches.
Paleo: Sure ya did, Jared. Uh, No fricking way.
Weight Watchers: We’ll take a short break while Mr. Fogle steps on a scale.
Dr. Oz: I hate to break it to you, but I recently had Dr. Gundry on my show, of The Plant Paradox Diet and it turns out that everything we thought was healthy for us like tomatoes, eggplant, beans, peppers, etc. actually contain lectins, which are pure poison to humans. Especially those nightshades.
Jared Fogle: Nobody in my family wears nightshades to sleep anymore. I think that went out with Marilyn Monroe.
Weight Watchers: Hush up, Jared. Just mind your own business and hold on tight to that six-incher of yours, ok? Dr. Oz. can this be true? If so, it’s just what we’ve been waiting for. Lectin sounds deliciously ominous and I think it just might work as the new gluten. Wonderful! Alright we’ve got to wrap up here. But before we do, are there any really oddball foods we can promote as the next big thing?
South Beach Diet: I nominate Chia seeds and Bone Broth.
Weight Watchers: Nice work! Chia seeds — the cute 1970’s little critter with the stupid jingle. And Bone Broth — which sounds like something served in a witch’s cauldron at a Halloween Party.
Jenny Craig: Are we sure about this Chia fad thing? How about ingesting pet rocks or mood rings instead? Should we consult Oprah?
Weight Watchers: Nope Jenny, I’ve made up my mind and we’re sticking with Chia seeds and Bone Broth this year. We might be able to do a public service announcement about Pop Rocks, but that’s not a promise. Meeting adjourned. Next month we brainstorm how to break it to them that taking the recommended 10,000 steps a day causes foot cancer. Now let’s get out there and cause some major mass confusion!
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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 rusty old lead zeppelin at a garage sale. “Ooooh, and it makes me wonder,” he repeated once again, appearing 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)   Victims of a modern day arranged marriage, a young 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, half-breed wife who volunteered only her first name, as Cher. The bride’s father and 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 all 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 very despondent, just sprawling around their 3-bedroom filthy, and 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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Why People You Know In Real Life Want Your Blog To Fail!

haters-gonna-hate-bloggers-gonna-blogI have officially been blogging for 3.5 years now and the people who are my biggest fans (and my best supporters!) are those I haven’t even met (yet!) and who’ve never watched me grow up and feel no particular attachment to my success. That’s right — all my cyber friends really go out of their way to cheer me on. But what about my adoring family and all my real world “in the flesh” friends, you ask? They absolutely cannot be bothered to give my blog the time of day.  In fact, I just eavesdropped on this conversation the other day from two people who love me very much.

My Grandmother: So what does our girl do all day long again? She’s a Bragger? A Blotter?  A Blooper? A Blabber?

My Mother:  She’s a Blogger!

My Grandmother:  And for this we sent her to college?  What does she put on her blog anyhow?

My Mother: They’re called pillars or poles. Something like that.

Me: (bursts into room) Posts, Ma. I put posts on my blog.

That’s actually not so bad. We don’t really expect people who aren’t in this field to understand what it is we do. That’s fairly innocent. But did you know that not only are the people you’re closest to in real life not supportive, they’re downright hoping your blog gets shut down?

Why Real People Want You To Quit Blogging!

  1. THREATENED: If you announce that you’re starting a blog, heaven help you. Be prepared to get sabotaged. Just like those who proclaim they’re starting a diet and suddenly homemade Toll House cookies on platters are left on doorsteps by friends who’ve never baked before in their life.  Your success as a blogger means that people will spend less time with you because (let’s face it) blogging can consume your every waking moment.
  2. SLOTHFUL: If you don’t write stuff, they won’t have to pretend to read stuff! Your family and friends are incredibly lazy. Just let that sink in for a moment. At family reunions, I hand my brother printed out pages of my blog because I know he won’t ever bother to click on the links I text him. And this way I can oversee which parts he likes by monitoring his facial expressions as I peer over his shoulder while he reads. “What??  That line about how controlling our mother is doesn’t even get a chuckle?” I chastise. “I think it warrants a guffaw at the very least.” The Laugh Police is out in full force.
  3. FEARFUL: They don’t want to be IN your blog. That’s right. We’re in need of material and they’re the ones we have daily contact with. My family and friends preface everything they tell me now with, “And this stays between us! So don’t even think about sneaking it on your blog even if you change my name, my gender, or my profession.” My 15.5 year-old daughter refuses to learn to drive unless I give up blogging.  I am bribing her to get behind the wheel, my pen poised.
  4. NO CONTROL: You’ve entered the blogosphere and are socializing with a whole new set of people named, “Food For Thought” and “Diary of a Scatterbrain” and frankly the people in your normal daily life can’t come along to these Posting Parties. They will wonder if someone who goes by “Biff Sock Pow!” is a harmless comic book character or looking to do you real harm.
  5. SOUR GRAPES: They’re jealous because they secretly wanted to start their own blog but you already beat them to it — so now it looks like they’re just big fat copycats without an original idea in their head. Work with me on this one, will ya? It could be possible.
  6. MAGAZINES: They’re old school and believe the only real way to ingest information, entertainment, and knowledge is to turn tangible pages in their hot little hands. Every time I get published, it never fails that my mother asks, “Which magazine? Cosmo? Glamour, People?” And I always say, “It’s going up on an online blog, Ma. But it gets a million hits a year!” Only to hear her retort, “I hope they have good insurance. Those hit and run drivers, I’ll tell you. They cause lots of damage.”
  7. MEMORY ISSUES: There are a percentage of your friends who can’t even remember your name, let alone what you wrote on today’s post. They’re wanting to avoid the grilling and interrogation that inevitably happens if they become a regular reader. When I was married, I regularly quizzed my husband on what he thought of my topics, the title, the hook, the ending, and if he found anything that needed fixing like typos or punctuation. I desperately wanted his input but he couldn’t recollect a thing about my blog. It got so bad that he finally told me he was resigning as my editor because he had “Correctile dysfunction.”
  8. JUST ANOTHER NUMBER: Your family and friends don’t want to turn into a run of the mill statistic. They know you watch your Google analytics like a hawk and you can see when or IF they’ve tuned in to your blog. And if they did read it, but failed to leave a “like” or a “comment” — well that’s a crime punishable to the fullest extent of the relationship. That’s right! If they’re going to give you the silent treatment on your blog, you’re not going to speak to them in real life.
  9. FOLLOW THE LEADER: Many people bristle at the thought that they’re gonna become one of your “followers.” “Really??” My cousin recently told me. “I watched you grow up, a goofy little girl who stuttered and wore “waiting for a flood” pants with your Farrah Fawcett hairdo which by the way you somehow still wear today?  Farrah Fawcett went down the drain in the 80’s, ya know. I should follow you? I’d rather play Simon Says!”

And there you have it. Nine creative reasons why the people in your life want you to delete your blog. And a few more interesting explanations (justifications) would be left in the comment section below, by all my well-meaning friends and relatives — but NONE of them will ever read my blog!

Important Note: if you have real life relationships who genuinely WANT to be the wind beneath your wings with regards to your blogging craft, but they’re not sure how — immediately direct them right HERE because this is brilliant advice authored by a Christine Carter, (a highly supportive cyber friend of mine!) that will guide them on exactly how they can help you and perhaps more importantly, WHY they should help you.

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

Are You a “REAL” Writer or Just “Harriet The Spy?”

writing-meme-3Remember the children’s book where an eleven-year-old aspiring writer named Harriet carries around a notebook in which she feverishly jots down personal observations about her classmates, (and the moment-by-moment events that happen to her) in the hopes that one day this practice will assist her in achieving a “real” writing career?

In fact, Harriet WAS already a real writer and WE are all Harriets.  Now here’s how to convince everyone else in your life to view you that way, so you can get the respect all writers deserve.

9 EASY WAYS TO BE THOUGHT OF AS A RESPECTABLE WRITER BY YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY

  1. Forget that the IRS differentiates between writing as a hobby and writing professionally. Everyone knows that IRS actually stands for “Inside Reality Sometimes.” They should recognize everyone as professional writers — how else are we able to pick up a pen and WRITE down the required information in the blank spots on their W-2 forms?!
  2. When someone says to you (in that challenging voice) “If you’re a writer, prove it by showing me something you have published,” you have three choices. 1. LOGIC. Simply retort, “Prove I’m NOT a writer by showing me something that I have NOT published. 2. PSEUDONYM. Tell them your material is highly controversial (and racy!) and thus you prefer to write under an alias. If they press you for your Pen Name, tell them it’s either “Bic, Papermate, or Sharpie.” 3. ANONYMOUS.  Google famous writings that are not credited to any particular author. You’ll have numerous bodies of work available to brag about penning. Just off the top of my head, there’s The Diary of a U-boat Commander or The Debate Between Bird and Fish or think really big and lay claim to The New Testament, (other than the authentic Epistles of Paul.)
  3. People might ask, “Well you may be a writer, but are you an actual author? And what’s the difference anyhow?”  First look askance. Practice this expression dutifully as both writers AND authors need to be able to look ‘askance’ in just a quick glance. Next sigh under your breath, “Hah. Mere semantics!”  Don’t leave out the “mere” part of this response because their shame in asking the question in the first place won’t be nearly as copious. “Copious” is another word you can bat about. Then pause to jot something important down in the notebook you always carry around with you (right, Harriet??) and never look up again. The something important can be, “Buy fat-free sour cream.”
  4. Talk about working on Rough Drafts a lot. Why are they so rough? Elaborate on that. Boast that after you finish your rough draft, you’ll then need to start on a Tough Draft. Non-writers will nod with empathy, but other writers will see thru this nonsense and call you on it. But you don’t care because you know they’re just furious with you for claiming to have written The Debate Between Bird and Fish before they could.
  5. Put memes about writing on Facebook at least twice a week. Here’s a good one.writing-meme-4Because everyone always knows that real authors create characters that take on a life of their own. And man is that scary! Have you ever had a death threat from a guy you invented who wears a striped hood and goes by “Will Billy Williams?” I mean his first, middle, and last names are all really the same thing! Eek!
  6. Writers earn awards. They may be obscure but nevertheless they can be totally legit. Take my award for example –lots of people questioned if it was actually real.19510369_10155431909612603_8281710292314964876_n That means the opposite will hold true. You can create your own bogus award and nobody will even bat an eye. Just make sure to frame it and have someone hang it prominently. Tip: The more colored mats you put around it, the bigger the frame it will fit into and the more wall space you’ll occupy in your mother’s living room.
  7. If you want lots of people to hire you to write for them, you should give yourself the title of “Freelance Writer.” That means nobody has to pay you to lance their boils while they read your stuff. This is a huge benefit to them. Just don’t go overboard and call yourself “Lancelot” because people will only hire you to write at knight.
  8. Ghost Writer! If there’s still nobody that’s buying that you’re a writer, you need to resort to being a Ghost Writer. First of all, talking about your haunted keyboard will be enough to get you booked on Dr. Phil and when you read your stuff aloud in coffee shops during open mic nights and people “Boo” you — well that will be especially fitting, won’t it??
  9. If all else fails, you can change your name to Louise Fitzhugh, the author of Harriet the Spy and the wonderful woman I owe a debt of gratitude for inciting my lifelong passion for writing as a little girl.

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20 Tips on How NOT To Create a Successful Blog!

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  1. Decide that you need a new hobby, but because you’re a raging alcoholic and also because you have terrible knee injuries, home beer-brewing or bodybuilding would be risky and painful. By default, blogging seems a sobering and safe pastime.
  2. Announce to everyone and their uncle that your exciting mystery blog (more colorful and explosive than fireworks!) will burst into the World Wide Web on July 4th, 2017.
  3. Starting July 1st, send countdown emails to everyone you know. “4 More Days Until Mystery Blog!” then “3 More Days Until Mystery Blog!” etc. until finally it’s just “1 More Day Until Mystery Blog!”
  4. Become nervous with all the pressure and expectations you’ve built up and on the day of your blog’s birth, scramble for a good domain name and any interesting content.
  5. Call your new baby simply, “My Mystery Blog!” and make your first post a list of good places to view fireworks across the country. There! That oughta hold ’em until July 5th.
  6. Realize you need someone to host your blog, but nobody has the good manners to offer. Don’t be a rude guest and blatantly ask someone to host it for you. Briefly consider hiring Hostess, but then you’d have to write about Twinkies and Cupcakes. Conclude you’ve read enough Martha Stewart magazines to be able to Self-Host.
  7. Install WordPress even though you’ve never even installed carpet, tile, or a kitchen sink before. But don’t worry about installing any of those “plugins” — after all, it’s not like you need an outlet for a toaster. And certainly skip over anything that has the word “Yoast” in it. If they can’t be bothered to correct their typo in the word “Toast,” why should you be bothered to prepare bread with jam? Just have a bagel and cream-cheese instead.
  8. Choose whatever theme you prefer. Just avoid flying toasters as that’s passé.
  9. Contemplate whether you want to allow comments or not. Go ahead and permit comments, but make sure the people who leave them must first prove they are human by solving for X if Y = Yoast. To the 10th power.
  10. Find your blogging niche, which is just another way of saying “write what you’re passion about.” It can be anything except for Passion itself. Being passionate about passion is like being curious about curiosity. You’re not Alice in Wonderland.
  11. Define your ideal reader and then promptly forget about your blogging niche. From now on, you’ll want to solely cater your writing specifically for your new Followers. Example: Your very first subscriber goes by the name of, “Eat to the Beat!” They’re probably into food, so blog about recipes. However they might also be into music so write about Billboard’s Top 40. Your next follower’s name is “MamaBelly” so be sure and make your post about getting pregnant. However “MamaBelly” could mean they want to lose weight, so cover your bases and review the 5 Best Low Carb Diets. Your third and fourth subscriber’s names are “Raindrops on Roses” and “Where the Sun Don’t Shine” so play it safe and just blog about the weather. Keep incorporating a wide variety of topics in each post until every single reader feels you’re speaking directly to them. Never write just for yourself — you’re the last person who will be reading your blog.
  12. When people begin to remark it’s impossible to predict your subject matter, remind them that’s why you are “A Mystery Blog.” Tag your stuff with words like, “Guess What Now?” and “Mishmash” and “Hodgepodge.”
  13. Figure out the best time of day to post a new blog, taking into consideration all the different time zones of your 8 followers. Evening hours work best if you want your blog to be considered a cure for insomnia.
  14. Decide you’ve lived your life a bit too safely, never running a red light or telling a single white lie. Google lots of awesome photo images for your blog posts and then cut n’ paste without paying for them or giving proper attribution. Stay up late at night flirting with disaster and tempting fate each time your blog is viewed.
  15. Hire a lawyer to plea bargain on your behalf for Copyright Infringement.
  16. Admit that this whole thing is far more work than you thought and invite a friend to co-author your blog with you. But always place your initials in parenthesis after an especially witty sentence so that readers will continue to know it’s really still YOU they’re laughing at. (LMM)
  17. Never visit other blogs. Once you begin reading their stuff, you will be distracted from writing your own. Or worse, accused of trespassing. It’s “a blog eat blog world out there” so mind your own business! If you do peruse other blogs, take care to leave zero evidence behind. Even a short “this was great!” comment can enable the blog owner to retrace the breadcrumbs back to your blog and then the jig is up. Didn’t your mother ever read Hansel and Gretel to you?
  18. Invite businesses onto your site so you can make money by keeping a percentage of what they sell. Hookers will fight over who gets to stand in front of your blog advertising “their wares.” But that happens on popular street corners as well. A good pimp will settle disputes.
  19. Don’t write articles with titles on, “How NOT to Do Something.” This will be confusing, deceiving, and contradictory. Should people do as you say but NOT as you do? No! Should they NOT do as you say and NOT do as you do? Yes!
  20. And lastly, check your statistics obsessively because they will tell the entire story of your success. If you see a lot of search terms having to do with raging alcoholics and terrible knee injuries, congratulate yourself on choosing the best hobby for you . . . BLOGGING!

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

How NOT To Plan a Summer BBQ in 15 Easy Steps (Plus Bonus Swimming Pool Etiquette! Uh, NOT!)

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Yup, Summer is Upon Us! Here’s how NOT to Plan a BBQ Get-Together!

  1. Feel guilty remembering last July when you were grilling steaks in your backyard, the newly moved-in next-door neighbor popped his fat head over the fence and yelled, “Mmm, something sure smells good!”
  2. Resolve to invite anyone who lives within “Wafting Aroma” distance.
  3. Rethink leaving notification flyers under everyone’s welcome mat on their front doorstep because that’s what pushy realtors and obnoxious cable companies do. Instead hang “Everyone is Welcome to Our Backyard Cookout” posters on group mailboxes.
  4. Hide your shock when the postman personally delivers bills/letters to your porch and then asks if it’s okay to bring his cousins and their kids?
  5. Overhear through your open window two mothers chatting on the sidewalk below, “Do you know her? I don’t either. How lame. Maybe she has no other friends.”
  6. Realize you wrote “Potluck” on the invites to promote camaraderie and teamwork, but now everyone will probably just think you’re cheap. Also since you didn’t do that organized Martha Stewart trick where you divide the alphabet into A-L = side dish/drinks and M-Z = main course/appetizer, there will now be 17 containers of Costco white chocolate macadamia nut cookies on your dessert table.
  7. Knock on individual doors because you forgot to put RSVP info in your flyer. Act surprised when the first neighbors (The Coopers?) thank you for inviting them, but then they remark they’ll only come if they’ll know someone else there. Reassure them that the O’Donnell family will definitely be attending, because you know they like them. Break a sweat running to the O’Donnell house and casually mention the Cooper family will be at your BBQ and you hope they’ll come too?
  8. Pray that the Coopers and the O’Donnells never EVER bring this topic up in conversation with one another.
  9. Go in your backyard and fret that your plants are dying, your lawn furniture is tattered, and everyone else’s property is surely a better place to hold a BBQ than yours. And what’s there to do back here after scarfing down burgers? Absolutely nothing.
  10. Re-landscape, buy patio seating, and put in an underground swimming pool with a built-in waterslide.
  11. Make the case to your husband that you need to repaint your home’s interior as neighbors need to walk thru your entire house to get to the backyard because if they go via the side gate, it stinks due to trashcans. Keep talking about Benjamin Moore “Swiss Coffee Shoreline” color palette when he interrupts and says he’ll simply relocate the garbage barrels inside your garage.
  12. Phone a marriage counselor when the divorce papers are delivered.
  13. Field phone calls from your siblings and parents who complain they were looking forward to a quiet family reunion BBQ but now you had to go and invite a bunch of strangers so now they’re not coming.
  14. Traipse around the entire neighborhood canceling your event when the local weatherman claims an unseasonable rainstorm is hitting San Diego this weekend.
  15. Ask what looks like your mailman’s grandma to please pass the butter for the corn-on-the-cob and then tell the mailman’s cousin’s children that you’d appreciate if they’d use their indoor voices while sitting at your formal dining room table.

Do’s And Don’ts To Get Along Swimmingly At a Community Pool!

This season you may be visiting a group swimming pool, so here’s my official list of Do’s and Don’ts, which you are encouraged to take with a grain of salt. (Or if your pool isn’t a saltwater based system– a capful of chlorine.)

  • DO arrive at the community pool with proper identification and whatever keycard you need to get through the gate. DON’T shout out to nearby sunbathers on lounge chairs from behind the bars, “Listen! I really do live here. I can prove it. Maybe you know my neighbors, The Coopers or The Odonnells? You can call them to verify my residency. Ready? 760 – 944 …” And DON’T rattle off a list of neighborhood trivia (like previous fires, burglaries, times car alarms go off in the morning, or who the mailman is sleeping with) as further evidence. If you’re desperate (and you really do reside in the development) DO make your best puppy dog expression at the individuals sitting under the umbrellas nearest the fence and offer to share your oatmeal cookies or fudge brownies with them if they let you in.
  • DON’T bring oatmeal cookies or fudge brownies to a pool! It will exacerbate the current ant problem. But DO bring “Ants on a Log” (the old peanut-butter on celery sticks with raisins to get kids to eat healthy) because the ants will view this snack as a prophetic bad omen and march off the premises.
  • If it’s forbidden to play “Marco Polo” (and it should be!) DON’T tell your children it’s okay to start shouting “Parco Molo!” at the top of their lungs instead. Just DON’T. Also while swimming, DO offer friendly salutations to people you recognize strolling by, but if they casually inquire, “So how’s the water today?” DON’T automatically answer with that tired cliché, “Like a bathtub!” There are many other ways to describe a warm pool so DO be creative. DO say, “Like a beach in Hawaii” or “like toasty hot cocoa.” DON’T say, “Like about 85 kids recently peed in it.”
  • Remember license plate holders that proudly declared, “My other car is a Porsche?” DO post a sign on your chest claiming, “My other bathing suit is a string bikini!” DON’T recline on your back overtly reading scandalous books with inappropriate covers for others to gawk at. But DO make phony dustjackets that say, “Dog-Paddling for Dummies” or “10 Wholesome Short Stories to Read at Public Swimming Pools” to slip over your provocative novels, because you shouldn’t have to miss all those juicy chapters!
  • DO use the outdoor shower that’s usually provided before you jump in the pool because that’s its primary purpose, to clean off your yuckiness. DON’T assume the shower was built for your personal grooming habits after your swim, which means DON’T bring a deep-conditioner, a razor, a loofah brush, an acne facial mask, a fogless mirror, and a luxurious bathmat. DO bring a rubber-ducky cuz that’s just plain cute.
  • And finally, DO let that family (with the really sad eyes and a bag full of oatmeal cookies and fudge brownies) with no key or ID into the community pool, because it’s probably my six kids and me. And I swear (on my other bikini) that we really do live here!

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Yes, You CAN Interview Yourself . . . And You Definitely Should!

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Welcome to today’s much anticipated (at least by the interviewer herself) Q & A session with the renown “Little Miss Menopause.” The questions will be asked by Stephanie D. Lewis, (SDL) essentially the exact same person as Little Miss Menopause (LMM) although if you believe in different personas, then this is a totally legit interview! So here we go . . .

SDL: Welcome Little Miss Menopause! It’s so nice to have you here. And you needn’t waste readers’ time by responding, “thank you for having me!” so let’s just get into our first question, shall we? How did you come to call yourself Little Miss Menopause?”

LMM: Well before I was a blogger, I wrote for an organization called, “Wine, Women & Hormones” and they paid me to make hot flashes, muffintops, and memory loss funny. I thought mid-life symptoms were the extent of my humor so I started this blog titled, “Once Upon Your Prime” and then I further boxed myself in by naming myself after the female change of life.

SDL: Way to go. I suppose it’s lucky you weren’t writing for a company about puberty or you might have been called, “Little Miss Menstruation!”

LMM:  Ha. I’ll be the funny one. Okay, we’ll split the one-liners equally. Next question?

SDL: How long have you been writing for?

LMM: I had a feeling you’d ask me that. I kept a diary from about 7th grade on. It was Snoopy brand (fittingly!) and had a lock with this silver minuscule key, but I always assumed that because I peeked inside everyone else’s diary, mine was also being heavily perused — so I’d purposely weave in these really entertaining fictional anecdotes. It turns out my family respected my rights and nobody ever violated my privacy.

SDL And so you you started intentionally leaving it unlocked, right? To tempt people. When that didn’t work, you actually left a post-it note with, “Please read!” on top, right? But still nobody picked it up.

LMM: Yes, yes! How did you know all that?

SDL: Because you’re boring, predictable, and also I was kinda there. So let’s see, next question . . . how did you manage to break into writing for The Huffington Post?

LMM: That wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t gone to a BLogHer writer’s conference in 2014 where Ms. Huffington was the keynote speaker.

SDL: Cornered her with the ole boring diary, did you?

LMM: No, I pretended I was already a Huff Post columnist but that I’d recently been unfairly let go. I pleaded for another chance and promised I’d be funnier. So I got myself rehired when I was never really hired in the first place!

SDL: And if you were never hired, you could never be fired either. You steal a lot of stuff from Seinfeld’s character Kramer, doncha?

LMM: Speak for yourself. So what made you decide to interview me? Or shall we just drop this whole reporter pretense and ask, what made you decide to interview yourself, Stephanie?

SDL: The idea came to me last week that everyone deserves the chance (even if they’re not famous) to have stimulating questions thrown at them. I waited around to see if anyone would ask me anything, but only my kids approached me with a certain amount of curiosity. They asked me what was for dinner? I finally decided there was nothing wrong with doing this myself. It’s part of my personal Self-Care which I just wrote about in the entry below this one. (Small plug!) Now mind you, I didn’t have to disclose that this was a self-interview because nobody would have figured it out, but I pride myself on being brutally honest.

LMM: Yes, I’m sure Arianna Huffington would concur. So might this interview thing also be in honor of finally hitting a certain number of followers that has been your long time goal? And if so, what’s that number?

SDL:  I’m not going to disclose how many followers I have, are you crazy? Some people would think it’s too high or too low. Just like my weight, I wouldn’t tell you that either.

LMM:  I already know what you weigh, fool. Remember? I am you. You are me. Ohh yeah, that’s right . . .  we use one of those scales that doesn’t show our weight, it only specifies if we’ve gained or lost. Which is like a doctor not telling you what your diagnosis is, only if you’re getting better or worse. Don’t you think? Of what use is that?

SDL: I’m kinda getting sick of you. And somehow you’ve turned this whole thing around so now you’re the one interviewing me. Let’s just cut to the chase and issue our challenge already.

LMM: Alrighty. If you’re reading this and you’re feeling brave (and quirky!) try interviewing yourself on your own blog. C’mon! What have you got to lose? It’s fun and everyone should do it. Just like masturbation.

SDL: OMG. I am so relieved that my persona said that last line, and not me! How totally embarrassing. Anyhow, if you take me (us!) up on this self-interview challenge, feel free to come back and post a link in the comments section. Thank you! And thank you for your time Little Miss Menopause.

LMM:  No, I’m thanking YOU!

SDL: Nope, thank YOU!  Now sign off.

LMM: No, you sign off. I want the last word.

SDL: Unbelievable. Seriously?? Goodbye.

LMM:  Aha … Gotcha!

SDL: Could you be a more Immature persona??

Various microphones aligned at press conference isolated over a

 

 

 

 

 

How Dare You Do Self-Care!

 

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The 70’s and 80’s commercial slogan, “Calgon take me away!” has nothing on today’s overused buzzword we know simply as, “Self-Care.” In fact my six children do a fake vomiting impression whenever they hear those two little words, probably because they got so sick of its predecessor — that classic analogy meant to justify my taking a break that went like this, “Mommy has to put her own oxygen mask on first before she can help you put on yours.” So now they officially refuse to travel on an airplane with me. (By the way, these same kids also signed a petition to prevent my talking about myself in the 3rd person, but that’s another blog entirely!)

So how did the pendulum swing so far in the other direction for females? You may recall not too long ago, most mothers put everyone else first, to the point of truly neglecting themselves, making motherhood synonymous with martyrdom. Gradually women learned it was okay to sometimes say, “No!” and that was kind of a nice, happy medium. Because sometimes we still said, “Yes!”

But now it’s gotten to the point where nobody shows up to help in an emergency because we can’t cope with any crisis until we’ve practiced good self-care. Imagine a horrible earthquake occurring, but before the American Red Cross sends assistance, they must slather Neutrogena’s soothing beauty balm onto their skin!

The next time you hang up the phone or part ways with someone while casually saying, “Take care of yourself now!” be aware that you’ve just granted someone permission to go get a mani/pedi, watch a soap-opera, and eat chocolate bonbons. That’s because “Self-Care” is loosely defined to encompass anything from aromatherapy (using essential oils!) to literally running away from life.

Join me now as we listen in on a “Self-Care, Self-Help, Do-It-Yourself Support Group” in progress: (And if you think that has too many “Self” words in it, congratulations you catch on fast!)

Leader: Take out your Self-Care journals and let’s make a list of what we need to have in our Self-Care kits. And then let’s take a Selfie holding them. Selma, please read your list?

Selma: Bath Salts, Bath Bombs, Bath Oils, Bath Bubbles, Bath Gels, Bath Sponges, Bath Scrubs, Bath Soaps…oh and you should put an actual Bathtub in your kit if it can fit.

Leader: Definitely! Sonia, your list please?

Sonia: I went the Mindful route. Is that okay?

Leader: Oh goody! Mindfulness and Self-Care go together like bagel and cream cheese, which you should also have in your kit by the way. Please continue . . .

Sonia: Mindful Yoga mat, Mindful Meditation book, Mindful Crystal, Mindful Meditation CD, Mindful Sunscreen, Mindful Money, Mindful Bra, Mindful Pillow, Mindful Birth Control, Mindful Michael Kors Purse, Mindful Nutella. . .

Leader: Terrific. You’ve discovered the main secret to Self-Care — just put the word “Mindful” in front of anything you desire and it’s automatically gonna be healthy and get our approval.

Sonia: Except “Mindful Children.” Somehow it doesn’t work with kids.

Leader: Whatever. Now let’s all recite the Self-Care first commandment together. Ready? “Caring for myself is not self-indulgent, it IS self-preservation.”

Suzanne: What about, “I think, therefore I am?”

Leader: Definitely not. You’re in the wrong place. The Self-Aware Support Group meets in the room down the hall.

Stacey: How about, “You can’t love someone else until you can love yourself?”

Leader: Sorry, you also don’t belong here. You’ll find the Self-Esteem Support Group meets in this same room but on Thursdays.

Stephanie: I have a question. I keep a diary, light lots of candles, get hand massages, eat avocado toast, go cloud-watching (I once saw one shaped like Gwyneth Paltrow!) unplug my cellphone daily, and breathe deeply while smelling roses, but still I’m completely miserable. Are some people just not good at this Self-Care stuff?

Leader: Security! Come quick! Code 5, I repeat Code 5! A Self-Sabotager has snuck into Self-Care! Calgon, take her away!

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Self-Care is completely responsible for society’s narcissistic behavior or that we’re all returning to the “Me” generation, but perhaps “Self-Care” could include things like volunteering at a retirement center, adopting a homeless pet, buying the guy behind you a Starbucks, and leaving a comment on my blog. 😉 Now wouldn’t those things also make YOU feel good??

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And if you’re a guy, what does “Self-Care” even mean for you? Have you been sucked onto its bandwagon too, or is this just a girl thing?

Listen up! If You Want More Readers, Just WHISPER!

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“Well shake it up baby … twist and Whisper!” Huh? Shhhhhhh, you’ve just entered The No-Shout Zone! Right HERE is an old perfume television commercial with the slogan, “If you want to capture someone’s attention, just whisper!”

And evidently our librarians knew what they were talking about, (and HOW to do their talking!) when they insisted we all speak in hushed tones — and thus eventually associate whispering with the pleasure of reading books. But did you know there’s now something called ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) which is a very STRANGE phenomenon that has hundreds of women profiting from making online videos where they do nothing but seductively whisper as they role-play being flight attendants, hairdressers, party planners, eye doctors, and personal shoppers?

Now mind you, this is not supposed to elicit any kind of sexual response in us. Instead, it’s supposed to give a highly pleasant tingling or relaxing sensation like when you’d have a sleepover with a friend and the two of you would draw letters on each others backsides to guess what you were spelling. Some say it’s a “climax of the brain.” Okaaaaay….Here’s a much better explanation right HERE. But that depends on your definition of “better!” Crazy, right?

AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO FINDS THIS KIND OF WHISPERING AS OBNOXIOUS AS FINGERNAILS ON A CHALKBOARD???

Forgive me for spoiling all your fun, but I can’t stand the way she forms those “wet” sounds with her mouth, her long pausing, (get on with it already!) and also the overly familiar way she behaves with her hairbrush. In general she’s bizarrely overly intimate with her listeners. My adverse reaction could possibly hearken back to grade school when Jenny Mayron would lean into my desk, cup her sweaty hand around my ear, (so the teacher couldn’t hear) and proceed to whisper some stupid secret that was completely obliterated by the disgusting feeling of her warm, moist, stale breath on my skin.

However an argument might be made that I’m just simply jealous of these Whispering Women because I cannot do what they do.  That’s right, according to my children, I lack the ability, and am utterly incapable of any discreet whispering.

In a movie theatre:

Me: (Whispering) Do you think he’s really dead? Or do you think he’s going to pop up later and attack his ex-wife? And will that be before or after he cuts off her child support?

Daughter: Do you think you could talk any louder? So next time the entire audience can hear you, and not just the six rows around us?

In a restaurant:

Me: (Whispering) Don’t look now but that kid from your football team who can’t catch a ball to save his life, just sat down three booths behind you.

Son: Oh my god, Mom. And you could be our announcer high up in the booth at our game without even using a loudspeaker!

So for the sake of getting some much needed practice with these skills, and also because I’d like to experience what it’s like to bring tingling pleasure to other people just by merely using my voice, I’ve decided that the following scenarios warrant whispering.

ROADSIDE

Me: (Whispering) Didn’t you see my brake lights? You teenagers shouldn’t even be allowed to drive. And it’s a brand new car! What are you going to do about this??!!?

Teen Driver: (On cellphone) Dad? I think I just rear-ended the Low-Talker from Seinfeld.

KARAOKE CONTEST

Me: (whispering Little Richard’s Song) 

We-eee-eeel….

You know you make me wanna (Shout!)
Kick my heels up and (Shout!)
Throw my hands up and (Shout!)
Throw my head back and (Shout!)
Come on now (Shout!)
Don’t forget to say you will
Don’t forget to say, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah . . .
Judge: Okay that was just plain odd. But just in case — hope you recover soon from your laryngitis.
Being Proposed To
Me: (Whispering)  Yes, yes. Of course I’ll marry you. I just wanna shout it from the rooftops, “I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with a wonderful guy!!”
Him: Eh?? Pardon me? Was that a yes or no?
Announcing Children’s Report Cards to Hard-of-Hearing Grandmother For Monetary Reimbursement
Me: (Whispering)  You wouldn’t believe the GPA your grandchildren all demonstrated this year in school.
Grandma: Young people today! It’s disgusting how much kissing, hugging, and slobbering over each other they do in front of others. That kind of behavior should never be rewarded! Hmmph.
Kids: Grandma! Come back. NOT PDA! OMG, Great time to perfect your whispering talents, Mom!
And lastly I’ll leave you with a party planner who makes me just want to slap her silly! Give a short listen right HERE and if you have any other reaction besides, “Speak up, Sister!” I wanna hear about it in the comments. Meanwhile, I’m giving a “Shout-out” to Marian the Librarian in Music Man and tonight I’m watching, “Old Yeller” and cranking up the volume!
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So Who Died and Left You in Charge?

in-chargeDo you sometimes wonder how certain (relatively inconsequential) things in life get decided? I mean who was the one specific individual that arrived at the ultimate conclusion? I’m not even talking about who makes all the major, significant determinations — (YOU can be in charge of making that particular list!) I just mean the odds n’ ends type of stuff that needs a final verdict. Let’s delve deeper, shall we? Because here are 12 things that nobody really knows who is in charge of!

Who’s In Charge Of . . . ?

  1. Selecting the specific kind of pornography for the men who use the “deposit” room at sperm donor or infertility clinics?
  2. Deciding that 1970’s Chia Pets (with their annoying “Ch Ch Ch Chia” commercial jingles) should now be a “health” seed that we must sprinkle on frigging EVERYTHING we eat?
  3. Figuring out the number of seconds a doctor leaves the examination room so a patient can fully disrobe and put on that silly paper gown? (As an aside: Who told doctors to rap on the door three times first, when they’re just gonna barge in on you half-naked anyhow? For once I’d like doctors to knock, then wait patiently while I yell, “Be right there. Will ya hold your horses already? I’m just taking something out of the oven!”)
  4. Singing the alphabet in a singsong voice so that the five middle letters sound like just one long one… “elemenopee?”
  5. Substituting the inane phrase “reaching out” for the old sensible word, “contacting.” When someone thanks me for “reaching out” on the phone, I wanna burst into Neil Diamond’s syrupy lyrics, “Hands, touching hands, reaching out…touching me, touching you!”
  6. Prescribing what the average “room temperature” should be in a house? Because this individual is solely responsible for a great many of the arguments I have with my ex-husband. (Identify yourself!)
  7. Firing the classic national Time Lady? C’mon you remember her? You’d call the telephone number and a familiar recorded voice reassured you it was 5:32 EXACTLY. She’d throw in the outdoor temperature as a bonus — (so my ex-husband and I could squabble over the indoor one.) And while I’m at it, who also decided who the voice of Siri should be?
  8. Determining at what age a woman should stop wearing a mini-skirt?
  9. Checking if a bride actually has something old, new, borrowed and blue?
  10. Choosing which side of the bed a husband and wife get to sleep on? And why can’t they alternate nightly?
  11. Stating that a “portion size” of Reddi Whip Cream is a mere two tablespoons? (And shouldn’t the measurement be calibrated as “squirts in the mouth?’)
  12. Deciding which foods (salmon, I’m looking at you!) get to qualify as “Good fats?” (And why can’t Reddi Whip make the cut?)CGJiWEgUYAAZJOU.png

Readers, leave me a comment about something you often ask, “Sheesh, who the heck was in charge of THAT?” (But don’t blame me — I was only in charge of six children.)

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