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My humorous thoughts about life.

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Saturday, December 31, 2011

Silly Sunday: Basketball Poles

Pau Gasol - LA Lakers
Rhonda's Silly Sunday pops up quickly (especially when I post by 4:00 on Saturday) and if you're like me, you need something to laugh at on Sunday because Monday comes next. This week will be particularly painful because it ends my vacation.

Watching the Memphis Grizzlies blast the Houston Rockets on Friday night reminded me of a story from years ago.

My husband stood in line at McDonalds in front of NBA basketball player Pau Gasol. At seven feet tall and 250 pounds, one would think he'd be hard to miss; however, a woman cut in front of him in line.

Pau was too polite to say anything so my husband nudged the lady and said, "You just cut in line."

She looked at him and said, "I thought that was a pole."

 For more laughs, check out Silly Sunday links at Laugh Quotes.

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Writer's Post: Out With The Old & In With The New

I love Back to the Future movies. Remember when Doc Brown visited thirty years into the future - 2015 - three years from now? He got a total blood and cell replacement and looked just like the Doc Brown of 1985. I'm still searching for that transplant clinic, along with those hover boards, so I can be out with the old and in with the new.

Back to the Future II
Instead, I look thirty years older than I did in 1982... and so does Christopher Lloyd. So if we can't throw out our tired bodies and get new ones, what are we supposed to do? Yeah, I know diet and exercise. I could grow flowers with that broken promise.

Sometimes old is special. After all, I was sorry to see my old dog die, even though I am now in love with an energetic young one. I have my favorite old coffee mugs, and I like old jeans rather than buying new ones made to look old. Why must we always say, "Out with the old and in with the new" come New Year's? Can't we just cuddle up in our old pjs with our old dogs on our saggy laps?

Besides, who says new is better? I have old kids and I'd keep them over your crying infants any day of the week! So out with the old and in with the new– :p. Unless you can find me Doc Brown's blood and cell transfer clinic, I'm not interested.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

GBE2: Free Write

This week's GBE2 prompt is called "free write." That means we're supposed to pop out our random thoughts onto the computer without worrying about how stupid it sounds or what boring dribble comes out. Hey! I've got a reputation to keep up.

Boring Clip Art found within 15 min.
In preparation, I had to find a timer. I searched the internet and my widgets only to remember that I already have a cool one that will bark after fifteen minutes. This ought to be fun because my dogs react to barking. In a mere twelve minutes, their furry heads will pop up and they'll look around for a nonexistent dog. However, I won't be able to write about their reaction because my writing time will be up. Sucks for you.

As for now, my kids have a movie on the TV that I could care less about. Which is probably good because if I paid attention they'd be embarrassed. I don't know what's embarrassing about watching movies with your parents. The movie is called "No Strings Attached." I think Ashton Kutcher and Natalie Portman had some kind of sex affair. Maybe it's good that I'm not paying attention if they are bedding it up. Don't worry--my kids are adults, so I'm not a totally awful parent. Kevin Klein is also in this movie. He went to my high school... for about a year, but I never knew him because he's old.

Back on topic: The problem with free write, is that the trash that comes out on the keyboard won't be anything that folks will want to read. And if by some chance you care to read my worthless ramble, I probably won't want to read yours. No offense, but I like posts that are short and focused. With that in mind, I'll spend my last seven minutes revising this post so that it's not totally boring because I have a reputation to keep up. If I publish junk, no one will care to CATCH MY WORDS.

P.S. Ruby's head popped up as she looked for the dog. It was amusing.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Silly Sunday: How I Used My Underwear to Get Healthy

It's not Sunday or even that close but I figure some of you might be busy if I waited to post at my usual time, so here goes early. Besides, it's Sunday in New Zealand where Rhonda starts her Silly Sunday at Laugh Quotes.



 Back in October I injured my knee while running and had to go to physical therapy. One of the many exercises my therapist assigned was the "penguin walk." This involves putting a band around the ankles and taking side steps. Unfortunately, he forgot to give me the band.




So I improvised. I have a pair of elastic underwear that have quite a bit of stretch in them. These came in handy when doing the penguin walk.


If that isn't silly on a Sunday, nothing is.

If you need more silliness than using underwear to exercise, hop over to Rhonda's Silly Sunday.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Wordless Wednesday: My First Contest

Congratulations to Tricia at Nola Mommy. She is the proud winner of the My Memories Software!

Hey all you creative people, here's your chance to win free scrap booking software from My Memories. It's easy to use. If I can figure it out, anyone can.


If you're only interested in "Wordless Wednesdayness," stop here,
but if you want to WIN, read on.

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For extra entries you may join, click, link, follow, etc. the following 
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leave a comment with your email address for each extra entry.

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Vote for Catch My Words on the picket fence above.

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Sunday, December 18, 2011

#GBE2: Curiosity/Wonder and After Life

As a little girl, I kept seeing these huge wads of toilet paper in the bathroom trashcan each month and couldn't figure out what they were. So one day, I reached into the garbage and opened one to see for myself. Scared the snot out of me!

Maybe curiosity is not such a good thing, after all it killed the cat. Plus there is the old "ignorance is bliss" phrase too. None the less, I've always been intrigued by death. I wonder what happens when we die? Where do we go? or...Will we come back in a reincarnated form? The only true way to find out is to die, and I'm not that curious. I am, however, sure we're never totally gone because the body is made of energy and energy can never be destroyed. It only changes form; scientifically a part of us will always remain on Earth.

None the less, I believe in reincarnation and karma. For example, as a teacher, I must have done something horrendous in my past life. I have a theory that my current and past students belonged to villages that I sacked and burned, and they continuously get their karmic pay back on me every year. That's the history of everyone in the teaching profession because why else would we suffer such abuse?

But the barbarian's life must have been an old, old existence because back in college, a hypnotist captivated us kids in a journey to our past lives to observe what we had experienced. I was an African American slave and knowing myself, it makes sense. Although I'm white, I've always gotten along well with black people and feel a natural chemistry with African Americans who I've worked with or have had the pleasure of being around. Also, I instinctively have a terrible fear of authority figures and hate wearing turtle necks or anything tight around my neck or wrists. I've even experienced anxiety and had to look away upon seeing someone with something bound tightly around their neck. Yep! I was probably bound, shackled, and eventually hung. In my mind, hanging would be the worst way to die.

What? You don't believe this? Fine. I'll prove it to you in the next life. And by the way, a friend of ours visited a hypnotist who told her she was Queen Isabella in a past life. As a result, she has apologized for the way she had treated Jews.

Silly Sunday: Jokes

Every Sunday, my good friend and former college roommate Rhonda sponsors Silly Sunday over at Laugh Quotes. If I could ever figure out how to make linky things work, I'd link it up. Never fear, you can read more jokes by heading over there. Here are a few jokes I've been telling for years.





Three boys had a contest to see who could throw a brick the highest. The first boy tosses the brick into the air. It flies high and comes down. The second little guy throws the brick into the air, it soars even higher then tumbles to the ground. Now the third boy, he stretches, swings his arms, and throws the brick so high that it never comes down.



☺☺☺☺☺☺


Two morons meet each other while walking down the street. The first one says, "Hey! If you can tell me how many chickens I have in this bag, I'll give you both of them."

"Three!"

"No fair! You peeked."

☺☺☺☺☺☺


A man and woman were fighting while riding on a train. The man smoked a cigar while the woman held a yappy dog.

"Put that noxious cigar out. I can't breathe in here," the woman said.

 "Well, I can't think with that annoying mutt's nonstop yelping!"

 "He's barking because he doesn't like the smell of your smoke!"

This scene went on and on until another passenger stood up and said, "Stop it! I can't stand the cigar, the dog, nor your constant bickering." He then grabbed the dog and the cigar and tossed them both out the window.



When the passengers arrived at the station, the dog was waiting. Can you guess what he had in his mouth?


  

Wait for it.....



A little longer
  


                     
I know the suspense is killing you.



So I'll just have to just tell you.



A Brick


☺☺☺☺☺☺




Friday, December 16, 2011

Writer's Post: Holiday Traditions

Ever wonder what Jews do on Christmas? Years ago we escaped to Cancuun, but unfortunately this didn't become our holiday tradition. After all, traditions must happen yearly.



Then there were the years we dined on Chinese food, since these are the only restaurants open on Christmas Eve. This too did not become our holiday tradition because we don't do this consistently every year.

Starry Nights
If tradition means doing something annually, it looks like we've found one. For the past three years or so, we've spent Christmas Eve freezing our butts off working the Christmas light show at Shelby Farms. Although we're in the south where one can wear T-Shirts in early December, something happens around December 24th as the temperature drops that one night we're working outside. It's our own slice of h*ll, but it's only fair since we don't have to lug heavy trees into our dens or risk our lives on ladders while hanging Christmas lights.

We have our own holiday that doesn't ask for much: Hannukkah, Channuka, Hanukkah, Chanukah. We celebrate the miracle of one bottle of oil lasting eight days. I have Crisco in my pantry that's lasted anywhere from eight months to eight years. Maybe we should celebrate it too... or throw it out. Actually, the oil might be one of the younger items in our closet. Which reminds me of my mother.

Mom had a lonely pickle in a jar sleeping in the back of our fridge for years.  My friends and I used to entertain ourselves by going through her refrigerator and laughing at the mold. Who knows? Maybe something in her fridge was from the holidays.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Silly Sunday: Teacher Blunder

Time again for Silly Sunday over at Laugh Quotes!

You may wonder what kind of teacher I am. To sum it up, I fit the poem about the girl with the curl in the middle of the forehead. When I'm good, I'm very, very good, but when I'm bad, I'm horrid.

Many years ago–first graders who are now fixing to graduate college–I taught a little boy named Aki (pronounced "a key"). The kids rushed into my classroom and said, "Do you want us to get Aki?"

With my brain in the off mode, I said, "What do you need a key for?"

A little girl said, "You know, Aki!"

"A key to what?" I still didn't get it.

This banter went back and forth with me thinking. What did they need to open and why? Finally it hit me. "Ohhh, Aki! Sure."

Of course it could be worse, like the time the secretary shouted over the intercom, "We need Abeer in the office!"



Friday, December 9, 2011

Writer's Post: Celebrate Seeson & Seedaughter

It's December, which means one more week of controlling overly excited grade schoolers who don't wholeheartedly believe in that jolly dude wearing a color that only makes him look fatter. Maybe St. Nicholas should switch his costume to black, since it's slenderizing.    

See how slender Santa looks in black!

The fat guy has been down our chimney once in twenty plus years. He dropped off three Christmas gifts that were addressed to kids with names we didn't recognize. Since we didn't know who these kids were, where to find them, or how to get in touch with the fat man, our kids kept the presents. I hope that was okay.

Santa doesn't celebrate at our house because we're Jewish. Someone once asked how we explained to our kids that Santa is anti-Semitic. However, the kids never saw it that way because we have our own celebration-- Hannukkah, Hanuka, Channakkah, Chanukah. No one knows how to spell it, and many don't know how to pronounce it either.

It's not too different from the other Jewish holidays: They tried to kill us. We survived. Let's eat. Chanukkah also means gift giving. My daughter sent me the following e-mail, which I posted on my Facebook page.


 Subject: if someone needs a hanukkah gift for me....

Vintage Sterling Silver Necklace Gold Charm by GiRLStreetVintage
www.etsy.com

In response, my other daughter sent me the following message:

Notice they each spelled the holiday in a different way.

When it comes to the holidays, I'm happy to see my kids! After all, it's the seeson... and seedaughter! Here's Adam Sandler's take on our holiday.


Wednesday, December 7, 2011

GBE2: The Truth

When I first met my third graders last week, the four of us played a game to get to know each other. One person states two true facts and a lie. Then everyone has to guess which statement is NOT true.

One darling little boy knew the adorable young girl all too well. After she said she had a cat, he said, "Yep. She does!"

I told him not to answer these out loud or he'd ruin the game for everyone else; so when she said she was a good artist, he smiled from ear to ear and shook his head, "Yes."

Kids can be so truthful, but their truthfulness worked in my favor when someone passed me in the hall and wished me a happy birthday. "How old are you?" The kids asked.

I told them I couldn't say it because it's one of those zero ages, and it's an "F" word.

One little girl said, "I know! You're forty." Got to love her.

Here are my:
 
Two Truths and a Lie

(1) I was born in Memphis.
(2) I have a rare blood type.
(3) I've written five novels.
  
Can you guess the lie?

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Silly Sunday: Writing Faux Pas

For this week's Silly Sunday at Rhonda's Laugh Quotes, I've searched the internet to bring you some funny works of... well you'll have to figure that out.




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


From House of Figs, I bring you a few of the 56 best/worst similes.

She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.  

 You may find 54 more of these at House of Figs.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Or how about these from Anomalous Anonymies. These goofs were shared by English professors at Capital Community College.

You always new when he come in the room because of the smell of his strange colon.

In the end he was a rear image of his grandfather. 

You may find more at Anomalous Anonymies.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


If you visit Terribly Funny not only will you find funny comics and photos like the one above, but also a list of funny newspaper headlines such as:

 Iraqi head seeks arms
 
Enraged cow injures farmer with ax

For more funnies, visit Terribly Funny.


Toilet Bowl Operation

No this story is not about Delta Airlines, even though they too are a "toilet bowl operation." I'm participating in Shelly's Crazy Alternative Reality over at The Life of a Novice Writer. She's presented four pictures and asked us to write a one hundred word story about one or all of them. I originally thought the assignment was 300 words and have been whittling my writing down but fail. I'm at 140 and have removed most of the detail to give you a bare bones story. I'm going to leave it as is, sorry Shelly.





The truck’s three wheels skirted around a cactus while sheep carrying the corner with the missing wheel kept it from scraping sand. Aries is rising covered the back window.

The truck halted. Bolts and cogs shot into the sand.

A cowboy carrying a rotary phone stepped out of his truck. “Don’t pull my truck apart!”

The sheep’s eyebrows narrowed as they glared at the cowboy.

“The brochure says, “Sheep is mild.” You buckin’ requests?”
The sheep raced away, so the cowboy dialed the phone.

“What kinda toilet bowl operation you runnin’? My sheep took off.” The cowboy nodded. “Fine. Send me twins.”

He tossed the phone into his truck.

Two identical women wearing bikinis approached the cowboy.

“You gonna run my truck, Sweet-cheeks?”

“We’re gonna drive while you run.” The girl’s smacked a sticker over the other one: Gemini Rules. 

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Writer's Post: Innocence & Middle School

When I was an innocent twelve year old, my big sister explained all those naughty words we weren't allowed to say but needed to know before entering middle school. When she came across the "F" word, she refused to define it because it was too naughty to talk about. Those with me in those early seventies, now know the bad word: "fifty."

Unfortunately, urban dictionary did not exist yet, and Bev's little vocabulary lesson was not nearly enough.

In the seventh grade, I had a crush on an eighth grade boy who I didn't know and still have never spoken to. Knowing he was Jewish, I needed to let him know that I was/am Jewish too. When we had a fifties day, I wore my earrings. A friend told me that the only people with pierced ears in the fifties were prostitutes. Here was my chance to let the boy of my dreams know I'm Jewish. I loudly said, and repeated multiple times, "I'm not a prostitute, I'm Jewish." Okay, prostitute sounds like protestant, and I didn't know what one was anyway so... oops.

Apparently, my classmates were not as innocent as me. They repeatedly mentioned a catch phrase of, "Sit on it" when at odds with each other. To add even more emphasis to the phrase, they would say, "Sit on it and rotate." Being super naive, I didn't know what this meant but said it anyway when my sister upset me. My mother held the dish soap under my nose and yelled about how she'd wash my mouth out with soap. Dirty? Did I say something dirty? Back in my middle school innocence, I didn't know that phrase was dirty. Oops.

Then came sleepover camp. Late night Truth or Dare with a crowd of boys and girls was the ultimate fun in middle school, until Ruthie asked me, "Are you a virgin?" Not knowing what a virgin was, I sure didn't want to admit to being one, so I said, "No."

Oh my. The faces around me turned white and mouths dropped open because who was not a virgin at age 13 in the seventies? Of course, I didn't know why I got their strong reaction to my answer. Ruthie explained to me that a virgin is someone who has never had sex.

Oh! A virgin! I thought you said, "Virgo." I'm a Sagittarius.