Wordless Wednesday: Ginkgo

 

Those who actually need Ginkgo, 

can't remember to take it anyway.

Silly Sunday: Time to Proof Read Text Messages

I sent a text message to my son. After an eleven hour day, I didn't type the way I wanted to. He asked me about it; but at 7:00 am, I still didn't read it right. Oops.

This reminded me of a fun, old song. Enjoy.

The Writer's Post: Interview

Remember in college when you had that hot date that your friends wanted to check out without being seen? So, they slyly hid behind a pole and peered at the young man as he came to pick you up. That was not the case with Michelle and me. We devised an ingenious plan involving a type of interview and a few hapless men who fell victim to it. 

Dressed in a trench coat, hat, and sun glasses, we'd approach the men as they came to pick up our friends. 

"So, tell me, where are you taking this young lady tonight?" We'd ask as we'd scribble his answers on our notepads. We'd bombard the poor guy with question after question making for a wonderfully awkward scene. Then we'd circle behind him and comment on his cute butt. Finally after receiving a seal of approval, the date would commence. How's that for the topic of interview?

Wordless Wednesday: Joke's On Me!

This Valentine's Day, the boy whose mother is a professional chef, gave me this most beautifully decadent dessert.

Check out the frosting and the candy hearts on top. It's truly a work of art. So, why is the "joke on me?" 

I don't eat sweets. ☹

#GBE2: Do Over of "Why I Read Kid's Books"

Back when I first started blogging, I had no followers and 108 hits for the entire month of July, 2009–which beats May, 2009 where I received zero. Now with 386 GFC followers and 105 on Network, I receive quadruple that number of hits, or even more, daily. With GBE2's "do over" theme, I'd like to revise and repost one of my early attempts at blogging.

Originally posted: July 14, 2009

Why I Read Kid's Books

My daughter has said, “Mom, you’re an adult. Read adult books!”

Sure, I had my days inside the mind of psycho killers brutally murdering helpless victims. I used to be pasted to the pages of Dean Koontz novels, but I’ve moved on. Usually, we advance to more challenging adventures, not me. I write for children.

So, I wonder: am I immature when I laugh hysterically over Gordon Korman or Louis Sachar? Let’s face it, an adult story will never have Cap Anderson innocently referring to his classmates as Buttwad or Jerkface like in Schooled or the fun antics of kids breaking into a lowlife’s house in Swindle. Furthermore, will we ever see the silliness of Wayside School in the adult section of the library? "Class, let's learn about gravity by dropping this heavy and expensive computer down thirty floors." Ha! Doesn't happen in the adult literary world.

Not only do I like kid humor, but the YA section of your library or bookstore contains plenty of nerve-racking stories such as Margaret Peterson Haddix’s Shadow Children series where third born children must hide or be murdered by an uncaring government; or how about, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins? Young Catniss must fight for survival in a future world. And YES, I love Anthony Horowitz’s, Alex Rider character. This junior James Bond is sure to hold anyone’s interest. Of course if you want to battle monsters in a modern day world, Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson adventures make for a fine read. Adult novels seem to only fight sex monsters. 

Not long ago, I actually read an adult novel. The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas leads the reader through an adventure about an adult who slaps another couple's child at an outdoor barbecue. This one event leads to the unraveling of the entire social community as a lawsuit progresses and friends take sides. Though a good book, every chapter had details about sex and the like. I enjoyed the read, finished, then picked up my next kid's book.

Probably being a bit ADD, I love the way a child’s story taps into a scene or character quickly without boring me with too much detail. So next time you're in the library or bookstore, check out the kids’ section. If you're like me, you won’t be disappointed.

Silly Sunday: School Answering Machine

Here's a message that clearly tells it like it is!

Lessons From the Playground

Back in the early seventies, I was another dumb kid just trying to fit in when I learned a powerful lesson on how to treat people. As a reward for all of our hard work, the school took us on a field trip to one of the best playgrounds in the world–Six Flags.

Being middle schoolers, we radiated cool as we weaved from ride to ride with a large group of boys and girls. All was wonderful until the lead nasty girl huddled us in a group and whispered, "Let's ditch Dan."

Well, okay. Gee, I had no mind of my own, so if she says we're going to do this, I went along with it. At her signal, all of us darted away from poor Dan.

Next, she chose a second victim, and a third. The group continually grew smaller as we ditched one kid after another. Being that this nasty girl was my good friend, it never dawned on me that eventually I would be the one ditched. They ditched me.

Alone and terrified, I shook in the middle of that huge amusement park. Strangers surrounded me as I wandered up and down the paths looking for one, just one familiar face. Why had I gone along with the pack earlier? Why hadn't I had the courage to speak up and say, "Stop! This is wrong" or  "No! I'm not ditching anyone." I'd never even thought about how cruel our stunt was, and if I hadn't gotten ditched myself, maybe I never would have. So I'm glad they left me. And as for my nasty friend... that was the END of that friendship.

Okay, I confess, she is a current Facebook friend; so, do I paste a link to this post in a private message to her? After that day, she didn't seem to understand why I didn't want to be her friend anymore. Would she understand as an adult? Has she ever thought of Six Flags since or is my horrible memory a faded smudge on her bridge. I have found the ability to forgive her, but I will NEVER forget. It was too painful.

Wordless Wednesday: Dog Cartoons

Here are a couple of cute cartoons by Mark Parisi.

And here's a photo from a group I "Like" on Facebook. Dogs Against Romney

How could anyone put a dog on the roof of a car and drive to Ontario? Unbelievable!

#GBE2: Upset

Today's GBE2 topic is "upset," which if not done correctly could be a downer. Not feeling like posting a blah-blah-life-sucks piece, I present you with excerpts from three of my unpublished novels.

No real people have been harmed in the writing of these stories.

Hope you have a laugh!

From: Don't Eat the Chipmunks by Joyce P. Lansky
 

      Last night, me and the guys tiptoed to Adam’s bunk where his chlorine-bleached hair spread across his pillow in a do like a dead chia pet's. We played dot to dot with his freckles--just in case he wasn't dorky enough already. When he got up, the kid scrubbed his face pink but still looked like a road map.

 

Was Adam upset? Of course not because I didn't write him that way.

 

From: Being Bompsy Carleffa by Joyce P. Lansky

            Gil placed tomato-based soup in front of each of us. When I blew and sipped it off my spoon, I was shocked. Cold soup? All this money, and these people can't heat the soup?

            “Do you like the gazpacho?” Fiso asked. 

             I dropped my spoon on the table. Why would he mention the Gestapo? What was he, a modern day Nazi? Sure, doesn't everyone like murderers? Sick. This guy's really sick! 

 

Yes! Ben was upset, but he stays upset throughout the novel. What do you expect? His dead dad turned out to be an alive mobster who has kidnapped him.

 

And finally, in case you haven't read enough, here's a little something from my WIP (Work in Progress).

 

From: Mrs. Zimmerman's Donuts by Joyce P. Lansky

 

Slater’s mom pulled a chisel-shaped knife out of the top drawer and leaned her head back. With the precision of a surgeon, she gently slid the blade downward until it disappeared into her throat. Next she thrust it out with one gigantic swing. Blood covered the blade while red liquid filled her mouth. Her eyes rounded as her lips curved into a smug smile. She winked at me! Blood gushed out of her mouth, and she winked! While the room spun in oval circles, I couldn’t decide if she was crazy or if I needed the loony bin.

When a thick, red droplet dribbled down her chin, I squeezed the back of a chair and stepped backwards. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I worried that I might hurl at any moment.

“You’re b-bleeding.” I gripped the chair with my other hand too until my knuckles went as white as Mom’s had when she drove me home after I’d gotten in trouble the other day. “Hospital. We need to t-take you to the h-hospital!”

Slater, Calfie, and Mrs. Slatker laughed so hard tears filled their eyes.

“What are you laughing at? I think she’s really hurt!” I plopped into a chair, put my elbow on the table, and leaned my head into my palm. “I don’t feel so good.”

“It’s fake, Knob,” Slater said in between chuckles. “She squirted fake blood in her mouth!”

“The blade’s fake too.” Mrs. Slatker placed the knife on the table then wiped her mouth with a paper towel. The knife had a squeezable handle and juice filled holes on the blade. “Sorry to scare you, but we like our little jokes around here.

If you are an interested agent or editor, feel free to contact me.

Silly Sunday: The News

I see dead people.

It's Silly Sunday, which means I can post an old joke or for something more stupid, open a newspaper. I choose the latter.

Did you catch the story about Jerry Miller, the retired drill sergeant who the government killed four times? A veteran in Florida was denied pension because, get this, he died! Furthermore, he was asked to repay some $94,000 worth of benefits that he should not have received because he's dead. Miller asked his congressman to help him, but so far, being alive has not been sufficient proof that he is not dead. That makes sense. Look at zombies. They're dead and it doesn't keep them from hobbling around. Some of them even dance.

This story reminded me of my friend Al at the University of Missouri. The school mixed up his student number with that of a dead guy. To make matters worse, they mailed a sorry-about-the-death-of-your-son letter to his mom and cut off his student ID which allowed him his meals. Al marched into the administrative office, flung his arm forward and said, "I'm alive! Feel my pulse." Unlike today's morons, the college believed him.

None the less, calling someone dead who isn't could be worse. Get this:

Doctors and nurses at Pelonomi Hospital in Cape Town, South Africa were baffled when two patients died on consecutive Friday mornings in the same bed.

Checks revealed no bacterial infection, virus or problems with the air conditioning, temperature, cleanliness, nor circulation of air in buildings and rooms; but, interviews with staff revealed the shocking truth.

Each Friday a cleaning lady would go onto the ward and plug her floor polisher into a socket by the bed.

When finished, she would unplug the cleaning machine and replace the plug that was originally in the socket - the life support equipment.

It's okay to laugh. 

Snopes says that the last news story is FALSE.

Writer's Post: Accidents

This week's writer's post topic is on accidents. How fun is that! It brings back all sorts of wonderful memories about my childhood.

Hey, Boo Boo!

When I was a little girl, my daddy called me his "Little Boo Boo." I'm not sure why, since we never stole any pic-a-nic baskets, and it's not like I messed up too much... okay, I confess, my bother called me, "Miss Breaker," but pul-lease. I'm not the only one in the family to have accidents. I didn't crash a bicycle built for two on the horse trail in French Lick, Indiana, nor did I back into the dishwasher to emerge with a big freakin' knife hanging out of my booty. That was someone else in the family.

I'm also not to blame when the old neighbor crashed his bike on the side of the road. I was maybe eight years old and carefully looping my wheels around the neighborhood when I happened to pass an old guy––probably younger than I am now, but old to me––wobbling back and forth on a tiny bike made for his kid. He obviously never learned how to ride a bike, since "they" say one never forgets. 

Anyway, I spun past him, minding my own business and the dude crashes! I didn't push him. I didn't veer into him. In fact, I wasn't anywhere near him; however, his old biddy wife comes pounding the door screaming at how I caused her sweetheart's accident.

How could anyone as cute as I was cause trouble?

Anyone who grew up with me knows I was just the type to grit my teeth and plunge into old guys on undersized bikes just for kicks. No, Mr., that was your kid! Remember, him? He used to dig holes in the park, cover them with leaves, and wait behind a tree, so he could laugh at seeing "someone" have an "accident." I'm surprised he didn't have an accident in his pants the day the scary sixth grade teacher picked him up hitch hiking. I know I would have. Accidents. Yeah, right!

Wordless Wednesday: Men Can Fix Anything

Got this from an e-mail my sister had sent. The photos are labeled There Fixed It, which gives multiple links to humor. Here are some of my favorites.

Electrical Problem

Bookshelf Problem

Who needs an ice chest?

Heat the coffee

And finally the best one from http://funzu.com/

Out of Diapers

#GBE2: What's Funny about Lunesta Commercials? Plenty!

I'm ready to tell you my secret... 
I see glowing green butterflies.

I just saw a commercial for Lunesta, a drug to help one sleep. Its first nineteen seconds tells the consumer what the drug does, while most of the remaining airtime lists the multiple side effects that could occur.

For those who have not seen it, here it is:

"Walking, eating, driving or engaging in other activities while asleep without remembering it the next day have been reported."

Sounds like the movie Werewolves of London when the dude went out for nightly kills without remembering a thing the next morning. "I'm innocent by reason of Lunesta, Occifer."

"Abnormal behaviors may include aggressiveness, agitation, hallucinations, or confusion."

Yeah! You might imagine you see a green butterfly floating over your head; or if you take the drug, aggressiveness could cause you to fight and have someone knock you out. Voila, you're asleep... or maybe you just thought it happened?

"In depressed patients, worsening of depression along with risks of suicide may occur."

Suicide, huh? That's a sure way to get some sleep.
 
"Allergic reaction such as tongue or throat swelling occur rarely and may be fatal."

Another sleep enhancer with an added benefit. If your tongue swells large enough, it could stop you from snoring and help your husband, wife, or roommate sleep too.

"Side effects may include unpleasant taste, headaches, dizziness, and morning drowsiness."

Bad taste? Well, forget that drug! 

I don't know about you, but if I have a head ache or feel dizzy, I'm going back to bed. And if one is drowsy in the morning, what's the point of taking a drug to help you sleep?

"Ask your doctor if Lunesta is right for you."

And before he answers, pray he likes you.

"Sleep well on the wings of Lunesta." 


Yeah, right! It has so many side effects, I'd be awake all night worrying about them.

Here is a funny spoof ad for Lunesta. Enjoy!

Silly Sunday: Erca Style

This January 29th reminds me of my youngest child who not only turns nineteen today but is also the silliest person I can think of this Sunday.

   

Erica, aka Bear or Erca, loves to snap goofy pictures of herself and post them on my cell phone. She also enjoys playing with my computer's photo shop, or at least she did years ago. One of my favorite shots is when she barged in on my parents' honey moon.

 

Wherever we go, she's great fun to have around, especially when she teams up with her brother to do the college strut. The two of them headed down the sidewalk as if they owned the place. Judy, my middle child, respectfully pretended not to know them as strangers stared. Erica said, "They're looking because they're jealous."

She also once called her brother's cell phone and said, "I'd like a cheese pizza and an order of chicken wings."

He said, "Erca! This is your brother."

Without missing a beat, my baby replied, "Da-nel. When you start working at Papa Johns?"

In case you missed it the first time, here's Erca and Wilberfoss giving a news report.

Don't you wish you could be silly too... or just turning nineteen? Happy Birthday, Erica!

Writer's Post: The Blues

This week's Writer's Post topic, The Blues, reminds me of the Jazz, Blues, and Folk Committee at the University of Missouri. Back in the days, I had fun meeting artists and working the stage for great ones like BB King, Chick Corea, Pat Metheny, and the one and only Leon Redbone. Of course, I have no actually memory of meeting Mr. Redbone; he performed the night after the 24-hour Dance Marathon. FML. Lack of sleep could definitely give one the blues. If you want to hear pathetic blues, listen to Leon Redbone sing I Ain't Got Nobody.

Sounds sad, but what's sadder are the stories you can read at http://www.fmylife.com/. Here are samples of real blues from that site. 





Today, my husband and I were talking about names for our expectant child. I told him since I named our daughter he could name our son. He's decided on a name from 'God of War'. My son is going to be named after a make-believe cartoon character - Kratos. FML


Today, my daughter turned 11. Since she LOVES Harry Potter, I decided to write her an acceptance letter to Hogwarts. When she saw the letter, she screamed and showed me. When she found out I wrote it, she told me she hated me, started crying, and stepped on my foot. FML


Today, I showed up at my boyfriend's work to surprise him by speaking in Spanish, his first language. I've been taking classes secretly. He smiled, kissed me, and then finished telling his friend, in Spanish, that I'm boring and ugly but he's got nothing better going on. FML


Today, I was taking a nap. Apparently, my two year old daughter decided to crawl on top of the covers on my bed because she was scared since there was a thunder storm. I thought she was one of our cats so I kicked her off. She hit the wall. FML


Today, I was a TA for a history class and the class was taking a test. About halfway through, I noticed one kid had a small piece of paper in his hand. I ran up the row, grabbed his test, and ripped it into four pieces. Then I took the note from him. It said "I believe in you, -Mom." FML


Today, while at the Golden Gate Bridge, I spotted a large group of Asians trying to take a picture. Trying to be a diplomat, I slowly say "You... want me... take picture?" while using hand motions. The man looks at me and says "No thanks *sshole, I got it," in plain English. FML


The Writer's Post Blog Hop

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?

 

#GBE2: No Time For Time

Some twenty-five years ago, at a time when I didn't know anything about brand names, someone gave me a Rolex watch. As an anti-fur, don't be ostentatious type gal, I had no idea of the cost or prestige of such a gift. My sister even poked fun–simple me wearing a showy piece of jewelry–as if I knew I had something of value.

Being that it is pretty, I wore it for over twenty years without ever servicing it or buying other watches. I justified it by thinking how in the long run, its cost might be equal to the purchase of multiple watches that break every few years.

The watch has never kept great time–always five minutes slow. Someone told me to buy some gizmo that will spin it twenty-four / seven since it's wound through perpetual motion. I never have.

Last August, about the time this school year began, it stopped. Not having the time to get to my jeweler, who's a good drive from home and closes early, I paid $11 for a slap-on watch that kept better time than my Rolex; but, it eventually rolled off its band and disappeared. I figured I'd use my Fall Break to visit the jeweler and get my Rolex back.

Come vacation, I drove down Poplar to the shop where I found a sign on the door, "On vacation. Be back--yep, you guessed it, the day my vacation ended.

After another month, we finally got the watch to the jeweler who sent it across the country for ridiculously expensive services. I wore my watch almost a month, and then, the band broke. Back to where I started. Will I ever find the time to fix my time keeper? Maybe someone like me is not meant to wear a Rolex.

Silly Sunday: The Blonde Mortician

 

A man who just died is delivered to a local mortuary wearing an expensive, expertly tailored black suit.

The female blonde mortician asks the deceased's wife how she would like the body dressed.  She points out that the man does look good in the black suit he is already wearing.

The widow, however, says that she always thought her husband looked best in blue, and that she wants him in a blue suit.  She gives the blonde mortician a blank check and she says, "I don't care what it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing."

The woman returns the next day for the wake.  To her delight, she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe; the suit fits him perfectly.

She says to the mortician, "Whatever this cost, I'm very satisfied. You did an excellent job and I'm very grateful.  How much did you spend?"  To her astonishment, the blonde mortician presents her
with the blank check.

  "There's no charge," she says.

  "No, really, I must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit!" she says.

"Honestly, ma'am," the blonde says, "it cost nothing.  You see a deceased gentleman of about your husband's size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday, and he was wearing an attractive blue suit. I asked his wife if she minded him going to his grave wearing a black suit instead, and she said it made no difference as long as he looked nice."

  "So I just switched the heads."

Writer's Post: Censorship

In a previous post, I mentioned that I didn't want folks telling me what religion to follow. Along the same vein, don't tell me what books to read, what music to listen to, nor what shows to watch. Part of being an American is having the freedom not to have someone else censor my life.

But what's really wrong with censorship is the fact that your mind might fill in the blanks with a whole new meaning. Watch this censored version of The Count.

Or look at part of this speech that I've shortened and censored just for you.

You have been reading about a bad *%^ I got. I have been in *#% and have received #$* from @*&. Which of you wouldn’t consider it the highlight of his life just to #$@ with *%^ for even one #$@?  

              Ooooo wouldn't you love to #$@ with #$@? Just ask Lou Gehrig.

I leave you with one more clip. Enjoy.

Wordless Wednesday: Photo Game

Can you guess what the pictures represent?

Dr. Pepper

 Let's try again.

eggplant

You have the idea.

  

 pool table

   

  

  

tap dancers

If you got them all right, congratulations! I'll post more another week.