Tag: humor

“This Spot Is Reserved for You”

Photo by Jonathan Cooper on Pexels.com Chubby the Barber confirms online.“Your appointment is at 11 am,” notes the email.“This spot is reserved for you.”“Please be prompt.” Chubby the Barber is no longer there.Retired, deceased, snipping and shavingIn Maui?The new Chubby is Ariana.She is not chubby, my spouse reports. He has brought her a half-wreathOf lengthy, … Continue reading “This Spot Is Reserved for You” →

I Think We All Need This…

https://twitter.com/QueenLesli/status/1558125131540619269?s=20&t=Sab8VCm9uU9L1tTKzJLbIg We must hope the penguin's assistant is treating him/her well--and the proper conditions for penguin good health are just outside the camera's range (an ice bath, for sure). In my heart, I know this cutie shouldn't be in captivity. I've persuaded myself that the artiste is having lots of fun and will be just … Continue reading I Think We All Need This… →

We’ve All Just Gotta Hang In There…

In my severely dog-deprived state,First thoughts of that photo, I’ll relate,Were that I’d dognap her right away--And also double her doggie pay! But broadly thinking about these timesThat try our souls, I reach for rhymes.The furry gymnast now says, with care,“We’ve all just gotta hang in there!” Please let your imagination roamIn responding to this … Continue reading We’ve All Just Gotta Hang In There… →

Bill-Barr One Mo’ Time…I Seek Refuge in Rhyme

Bill Barr Image courtesy of commons.wikimedia.org We’ve all had a lovely reprieveFrom Bill-Barr’s penchant to deceiveBut he’s back with a hook:It’s his new “tell-all” bookWith li(n)es he assumes we’ll believe. Let me state that I will not payOne cent for this Bill-Barr display;I can learn what I needFrom reviews that I readOf the Truth he’ll … Continue reading Bill-Barr One Mo’ Time…I Seek Refuge in Rhyme →

Backstage in My Blog World: An Explanation and an Apology–Revisited

NOTE: I have had a more-than-usual amount of crappy tech snafus in my blogging and personal life the past few days. Rather than bore you with all the bytes that bit me, I decided to reblog one of my earliest posts--written shortly after I began this blog two years ago. I'd like to think I've become slightly more technically adept since then, but... Some of the explanatory material about WP was necessary because at the time I had more email subscribers than fellow bloggers. I had fun writing this piece, and I hope you'll have fun reading it.

A Mid-Pandemic, Anti-Panic, Slightly Manic Flight of…Oh, I Dunno

Dribble is a silly word.

Maybe not when we’re talking about the Harlem Globetrotters—or kids in a schoolyard testing their prowess by bouncing, bouncing, bouncing that ball on unforgiving asphalt, then arcing skyward toward a topless/bottomless structure seemingly stitched by a gargantuan spider.

Or a baby’s slo-mo Vesuvius after imbibing squished bananas and squashed squash from a teensy spoon dipped too generously into a tiny glass jar by a harried automaton-a-mama whose patience is now pandemic-thin. In such instances, the word bib, found conveniently nestling within the word dribble, is very useful indeed.

How I Found My Inner Harpist On My Smartphone

Ah, the image: I am seated at a magnificent golden harp, my flowing blonde tresses resting on my shoulders, my tall, slender body leaning slightly forward, long fingers playing glissando after glissando. I am just warming up, but I am already enraptured.

Oh, the reality: It’s true that I’m thin and have long fingers. The rest of the description is more problematic.

My Fraught Relationship With The Man-In-The-Box

I reallyreallyreally do not like inanimate objects talking to me. I avoid Siri, preferring to do my own research than to hear her voice—or to have her record my every Internet search (though I hold no illusions about privacy anymore…). I am not tempted to invite Alexa into my home to find that old Sinatra record for me, thank you very much. 

And back in the day when we actually got into cars and drove places, I always resented the high-pitched voice of that GPS woman, who on occasion directed us to dead-end streets and once recommended that we exit sharply to the right when we were in the middle of a bridge. I’m not accusing her of malicious intent, but her satellite-guided bumbling was not a confidence-builder. I am perfectly capable of bumbling on my own.

Why then, do I invite the man-in-the-box into my life practically every day?

Living Through a Pandemic: The Lighter Side

Please don’t get me wrong: I am appalled, shocked, infuriated, and beyond sadness at what’s become of our country and world.

But I also know that laughter is the best medicine, and even smiling has been shown to have a positive effect on our immune systems. As we all need our immune systems to be as strong as possible now, I thought I’d tell you some fun things—a few real, others of undetermined origins that have found their way to my inbox. (I hope you haven't seen them already!)

Wherein My Personal Blogosphere Expands Via a Fun Exchange With a Super New Acquaintance

I’ve often said that I’m one happy blogger: I love to write and to research new topics; I’m grateful for your feedback; and—this was one aspect of blogging that I hadn’t anticipated but is becoming one of the most valuable—I feel personally enriched by meeting so many extraordinary, talented people from all over the world.

The most recent is Judy Dykstra-Brown, a poet, writer, artist, and lecturer who blogs at Life Lessons. She’s a prolific blogger, posting something—sometimes several things—every day. That energy alone boggles my once-or-at-most-twice-weekly blogger mind!