Wordless Wednesday: More Photo Games

Back by popular demand, here we go.
If you have a chance, check out http://www.worth1000.com/. It's a cool site!

What do these pictures demonstrate?

Card Shark

 

Gator-Aide

  

 

iPod

King of Pop

Did you do better this week?

 

Uncle Pancreas #AtoZ #atozchallenge

I love teaching gifted kids because they have a sense of humor unlike the kind one would find in children from a regular classroom. Years back, my students wrote and acted in a play that had the adults in the audience rolled over in stitches while most children thought the skit was "stupid." My young Einsteins  obviously hit upon adult humor that was so far over the heads of the normal sixth grade class, that age peers didn't enjoy it. Only one kid in the class found their skit funny. He was the child on my referral list who I placed a few weeks later. Yep! I knew this student was gifted when I saw him chuckling with the adults.

To illustrate some quick wit from gifted students, here is a recap of a scene that took place in one of my classes some time back.


circa 2000: Intellectually Gifted kids provide interesting material. The names have been changed to protect the guilty.

     "February means Black History Month, so here's a game of Jeopardy to test your knowledge of famous African Americans." I divided the class into teams. 

     Meredith upped the interesting factor of our game when she said, "Politicians for fifty."

     I flipped the card and read, "This General currently serves as Secretary of State."

     "Who is Collin Powell?"

Call Me Uncle Pancreas!

     "The name is Colin!" Jason snapped.

     "Uh, gross. I don't like names that sound like body parts, so I'm calling him Collin."

     "Really? Why don't you like body part names?" Jason said. "I have an Uncle Pancreas."

Tune in tomorrow for the letter V, which is all about Vic (one of the funniest guys I know).

Games #AtoZ

I don't like games. Sure, deal me in after shuffling the cards or let me bankrupt you with hotel traps in Monopoly, these are not the games I'm referring too. I'm talking about those sickly, conniving tricks we humans play with each other for fun or personal gain. I like Billy Bob but instead of telling him, I'm going to flirt with Hugo and make him jealous. These are the games I despise.

Having never been a game player, I became victim to some of the worst mind muses during my young dating life--all without my knowledge. So Senior year of college when that Freshman boyfriend wanted to see if he could rekindle the old flame, I was ready with the coaching of a dear friend. 

When the ex called, my friend interrupted my conversation and said, "Tell him you got to go." I gave Barry an odd look, but he insisted, "You have to go." So I abruptly ended the conversation and felt the pull from the other end of the phone telling me that he still wanted to talk.

Next, Barry prepped me for the date. When we'd get to the restaurant, I was to tell my date that I'd promised to drive my roommate to Walgreens at three. I hadn't promised anything, but my friend told me that if I wanted this guy, I had to give him the idea that he's not the most important thing in my life. It sounded cheap, felt wrong, and when it came down to it, I decided this wasn't me and I wasn't playing the game. Although I chose not to drop my break away excuse, I knew exactly what was going on when he told me, "My old roommate is coming to the apartment to help me move at three." I also realized at that point, that this was not the guy for me. Being sure not to mess up his plans, I scooted out by three, even though my date insisted I didn't have to go. It wasn't a game. I really didn't want to be around someone who didn't treat me like I was important.

Now as a humor blogger, my post would not be complete without the comical end of game playing, so here goes more game stories that happened during those fun college years.

A friend of mine and I decided we weren't going to play the sly check out the new date routine by hiding behind the pole and taking casual glances. We played openly and honestly. Dressed in a trench coat, hat, and sunglasses, we carried our notepad and pen down to the lobby for pickup. We asked the poor victim to turn around while telling him the absolute truth. "I want to check out your butt before I'll let you date my friend." Next, we'd ask him multiple questions about what his intentions were with our friends. No lies or deceptions here!

Nor did I go along with the nasty boys of Zeta Beta Tau during their Little Sister Initiation. Lined up in front of the entire fraternity, they gave each girl a banana with whipped cream on top and asked us to show them what we'd do with it. I promptly chomped down on the piece of fruit and tore the top off. I don't like games.

Please tune in tomorrow when letter H will take us on a fun look at Historical Humor.

Tina Fartingle - Tooth Fairy Extraordinaire #AtoZ

Our family tends to go by the old adage, "Once you know the secret, you become a part of the game." This is how it went once my oldest kids discovered the tooth fairy myth with baby sister who would often leave notes under the pillow for the money delivering tooth fairy. This wouldn't have been so bad had they not decided to answer the notes and name the tooth fairy.

Artwork by Erica L. Lansky

Being the kids that they once were, these two clowns named her Tina Fartingle. Miss Fartingle made many visits to Erica and left notes, money, and even toys under her pillow. Come fourth grade, Erica was starting to doubt the existence of the tooth fairy but had her beliefs renewed when a friend in her class had the same tooth fairy with the same obscene name.

It all happened when another mother of a child in the class, happened to call me wanting to know the tooth fairy's name. To make matters worse, I taught her gifted child in my special class. I hemmed and hawed and finally blurted out, "Fartingle! But I didn't come up with that."

Needless to say, Emily's tooth fairy was also named Tina Fartingle which made the girls sure that she must exist. Smart little Erica continued the charade for many years after that. Why not? Even if you were fixing to shave, would you admit non-belief in something that brings money under the pillow?

Basement Phobia

So Fun!

It was the place where yellowed stuffing spilled from tattered couches and humming heaters sang mournful duets with spinning dryers. I'm referring to that musty, spider-infested basement. That place I crept into only when forced to retrieve Mystery Date. All that bravery just to end up with the Dud at the door. After all, if I was going to risk my life to get that game, at least I could've found the stud muffin in the white tux.

That light bulb dangling from a cord was never enough to give me the peace of mind to be way downstairs--at least not alone. What was it about the basement that would scare the Buggy Man, Phantom of the Opera, or even the millions of famous dead people who we've ooed and awed over throughout history? Tackle the basement, suckers!

The shadows reflecting from the dull light gave me the tingling feeling that something eight-legged or the Mystery Date Dud was crawling on my forearm. While downstairs, I'd often hop into a hula hoop spin without the plastic because, I'd felt something creepy.

And the noise of the heater with the glowing orange light added to the drama. I'm with you Kevin, my Home Alone heater came to life when doing laundry too. In real life, we don't need  Hollywood scare music to add to the tension. Haunted houses on Halloween, nah, just find the basement.

Now that I'm a grown up, I live in a state so humid that the ground would swallow those dirt dwelling rooms. Not many basements in Memphis--only attics. Yikes! That's another post.

I'm leaving you with a fun link for those too young to remember Mystery Date or old enough to enjoy a nostalgic look back to the fun we used to have. Tune in Monday, and I'll tell you all about my closet.

Please click the Picket Fence. Thanks!

Trivia Night at Kickin' Chicken'

I just got back from visiting my son in Charleston and getting a first hand peek at what twenty-somethings do for fun. Every Wednesday at 10:00 is Trivia Night at the Kickin' Chicken. I was all over it. Perched on stools around a wooden table we delighted in competing for a $50 bar tab for the winners, $25 for second, $10 for third, and the dreaded syphilis infection for fourth. Competing against a large crowd, we left empty handed; but our team had full beer bellies.

The first task was picking a team name that related to current events, was totally obscene, or preferably both. My son, daughter, and I struggled over a name, but it took my son's twenty-three year old friends no time to come up with the kind of name with words that one would never say in front of someone's mother (AKA - me). I didn't mind the sexual names so much, but Charlie Sheen jokes got old, and Japanese related titles were just plain rude. My favorite team name was: "I don't bungee jump because broken rubber brought me into this world and I don't want to leave the same way."

Equipped with the rare knowledge that Michael J. Fox's middle name is "Andrew," we were ready to begin. . . but they didn't ask that question. Being the night before St. Patrick's Day, a lot of questions related to the Irish. No problem; I've been to Ireland. So why did I report the most southern county as being Limerick instead of Cork? Oh, the pressure!

We knew Sam Houston was the governor of Texas who retired from office rather than take the oath of allegiance to the confederacy (although we almost said, "George Bush"); Florida was the most recent college team to win two championships in consecutive years; and never remove the Cauliflower Ear during a game of Operation.

What we didn't know were the four most popular bands of all times. Beatles and Rolling Stones were the given. What were the two others? Being the old lady who loves to tune into classic rock, how could I have missed it? I was probably the only one in the bar who had been around during these bands' hey days. So, knowing what I know, how could the Grateful Dead not be one of the four? I mean, "dead heads" abound, even though no one understands why a dead person would be grateful. Anyway, I know you're dying for the correct answer . . . the winners were . . . wait for it . . . Led Zeppelin and U2. Really? Yeah!

Although Trivia Night is a blast, it's made for the young. To find out why, reread my second line: "Wednesday nights at 10:00." How could someone over twenty-five get up for work the next day?