Wordless Wednesday: Boy Genius

This one's been floating around the internet for years, but it's worth a Wednesday just in case you missed it.

Paul Revere and Other Myths

Our Next President?

I recently had a story published in AppleSeeds Magazine about Paul Revere's ride. According to Sarah Palin, I got my facts all wrong. Paul Revere rode up and down the streets ringing a bell to warn the British that we were going to lock and load. What's even more amazing is that I actually met someone who tried to convince me that Palin was right! If that's the case, we can change all kinds of historical events to meet our needs. Hmm.

Did you know that our fore fathers started the electoral college not because they believed the commoner wasn't smart enough to vote but because starting a college would get them more prestige, better paying jobs, and noticed by the ladies? That's right. Unknown to the public, the electoral college is actually a place of higher learning. Where else would folks learn how to make those powdered wigs?

And the crimes of taking over land from the Indians is all a myth too. They gave it to us because they liked how we taught them how to hunt, fish, and pop popcorn. We even showed them how to add sugar, salt, and preservatives to make this healthy food stick to ones insides and make one fat. Next, Indians enjoyed pilgrim led aerobics instruction.

 We were also overly kind to our Japanese citizens during World War II. We sent them off to fine spas where they got to enjoy saunas, steam rooms, and sushi. Then we taught them how to play soccer, a sport that originated in the United States, so they could all become brilliant soccer moms like Sarah Palin.

So remember, vote Sarah Palin for President. Humor bloggers need her stupidity to keep the jokes coming. If you want more laughs, here's a link to Steve Colbert's incredibly funny clip. http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/388583/june-06-2011/paul-revere-s-famous-ride



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Lost and Found #GBE2

#3 = Lost and Found

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, perhaps in the year 15 BC (before children), my mind started to gradually slip away. It wasn't anything dramatic like space aliens ringing the doorbell and asking for brain samples, but rather a slow deterioration of sanity.

Maybe it started in middle school when the dorks teased me for wearing my sister's powder blue, handi-me-down gym uniform instead of the sexy red ones on sale at school. With the red garbs, one could  turn them around backwards and slide the zipper down low. Ms. "McFeel," the questionable PE teacher didn't seem to mind as long as we wore a PE uniform and took our showers after class. If not the uniforms, perhaps the brain drain came when I was brave stupid enough to get on stage in a flapper outfit and dance the Charleston with Steve Noonan in front of the laughing student body.

"What was everyone laughing at?" I later asked a friend.

"Your costumes," she said.

Yeah, right! I was almost naive enough to buy it. Junior High School definitely chipped a good 10% of mind out of my clueless head.

High school must have taken some more. Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, I got my driver's license and proudly drove into the car next to me in a snowy parking lot. Okay, I wasn't proud of hitting the car (multiple times when the honkers made me panic), but I was proud of the first time being alone in the car, until . . .

Being a mindless teen, I stuck a note about the size of a bobby pin on the damaged car's windshield wiper and crawled home to tell my dad. He took it well. In fact, he took it a lot better than the lady I hit. For the next year, my parents begged and pleaded me to take the car out alone, but by then about 20% of mind went missing, so no can do. I've only been in one other mild fender bender in over thirty years of driving daily, so maybe I found five percent between then and now.

College took more due to a little bit of drinking at parties. Alcohol has been scientifically proven to kill brain cells, so go ahead and remove the five percent I'd found plus 5% more and now I'm down to 75% sanity. Until my boyfriend said, "Will you marry me and live in Memphis?"

Marrying him was actually a fabulous idea, but I question my mental state when I said,"Yes to Memphis." If that ain't love, I don't know what is. Take away another 5% for moving to Memphis and becoming a teacher. A teacher? Did I say, "5%?" Better make that 5% for moving to Memphis and 25% for becoming a teacher. What am I down to now? 45%? Being able to do basic math means I have a little bit of mind left add 5%, but then I got pregnant. Three times. Three children.

Some comedian, can't remember who, once said we lose half of our minds with each child born. That would put me far into the negative category. Just because I scratched my head and hopped like a monkey to get my babies to smile does not mean I've lost my mind? I mean, doesn't everyone do that?

Since this challenge is called "Lost and Found," I must end with the story about how I got it all back. We put the baby on a bus this morning and sent her off to be a camp counselor for the summer. The middle one comes home in five days and stays for a few weeks, but come fall we will be official empty nesters. If that doesn't restore my mind, nothing will!



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Wordless Wednesday

Animal Abuse?

This is what our daughter does to our poor dog!

Definitely Dog Abuse

Jayhawks - :p #AtoZ

The Fruity Bird

I started my hate affair with those nasty Jayhawks while attending the University of Missouri, and it only grew more intense in 2008 when Kansas beat the University of Memphis Tigers in the National Championship in overtime. To make matters worse, an annoying fan over did it with extreme obnoxiousness after that game. If I didn't despise them before, I totally do now.

But other than that, what is that thing they call a mascot? Since when is a cartoon character the spiritual leader of a team? Oooowh, scawry biwrd with its fwruity wred and blwue featherws. I can just see it pecking at a tiger or stomping on a bear. I like to tease my daughter about her terrapin mascot, Maryland's "Fear the Turtle," but at least Testudo looks fierce. Big Jay belongs on Sesame Street with the other Big Bird. And just like the eight foot Big Bird, who also has an identity crisis, in the animal kingdom, Jayhawks don't exist. It's made of a cross between a blue jay and a sparrow hawk. The former is loud while the other is quiet, which means Big Jay is schizo. Do Jayhawks hear voices in their tiny heads? I don't even want to know.

Unless you are a Kansas fan, I'll see you tomorrow when I tackle the letter K . . . and it won't be about Kansas. :p