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.

#GBE2: Pet Peeves

When it comes to "Pet Peeves," there are two types: a few that matter and most that don't. Which reminds me of a speaker at a gifted teachers' conference years ago. She spoke about little quirks present in our smart students, how we probably share these, and finally it's not an accident that we ended up teaching these perfectionist kids.

If you want to drive a gifted kid nuts, it's easy. All you have to do is hang one poster at an angle instead of straight. You do this, and I guarantee most intellectually gifted kids will be focused on that crooked poster because this is THEIR pet peeve. Of course, I could never perform this monstrous task because it would drive me mad too.

Although my house is far from spotless–perfectionism gone too far–when folding towels or bedsheets, those corners better match up. Peanut butter must spread across every square inch of bread, and toilet paper drops from the top. Annoyance at seeing a sloppy job is a silly pet peeve of mine. Furthermore, I can't stand to have the light switches positioned the wrong way. After all, up is for "on" and down is for "off." I will tread across a dark room at the risk of breaking bones rather than flip the switch in the wrong direction. As you read this, half of you are thinking, she's nuts, while the other half is nodding in agreement. Either way, my gifted class is just like me, so maybe there's something to this?

And here's another one... see pants drop.

I also have multiple pet peeves when it comes to drivers, but I've already written about this:  Idiot Drivers

Now on to a pet peeve that matters a little more.

Religion. 

I know many feel like they are doing G-d's work or saving my soul when they try to push me to believe what they believe, but I find it nauseating. I don't tell you who or what you should worship, so how dare you try to push your beliefs on me! Missionaries who venture into some Arab countries have found themselves in fear for their lives. While I don't condone putting missionaries to death, I certainly understand the anger. People who have been practicing their beliefs their entire lives don't appreciate some no nothing telling them they are wrong. Just like you value your religion, I value mine and others value theirs. I don't tell you that your life learnings are incorrect nor do I tell you you're going to H*ll if you don't believe what I believe. So, this is my true pet peeve... leave me alone.

At the same time, I can appreciate those missionaries who have made a difference in the lives of starving people in third world countries. It's all a matter of who they approach and how. Along this line, I have friends who have told me that they pray for me. While I appreciate their concerns and know they do it out of love, if they are praying for me to change my religion, they're wasting their time. I love my faith.

My intelligent and learned brother has seen the end of missionaries trying to convert him. The last poor guy to walk across his threshold found his beliefs thrown back at him in such a way that he had no choice: he could admit that what he preached was messed up or give away his pants. The missionary left in his underwear.☺

Silly Sunday: Gotta Love The Dogs!

Here's a cute dog video–sorta.

People just love to mess with poor dogs. Here's another one that's gone viral.

Writer's Post: Misdirected Ambition

Many ambitious people strive to be the best, but sometimes ambition can be misdirected. I hope y'all enjoy my post on choice winners for ambition, along with my writer's privilege to stretch the truth. ;-)

 In New Orleans, lives Aevin Dugas who sports overly ambitious hair with the world's largest afro. Her hair measures a circumference of four feet, four inches long. Heck! I have students that size, but I wouldn't want them stuck to my head. Having super-sized hair includes a few problems. For example, once Ms. Dugas got her hair stuck in a car door. After that, her son, who was waiting in the car, thought it was a rat and beat it with his little league glove. At least he didn't have it stuck in his drink like the dude at the bar.


Another winner is a bozo named Scotty Kay who wanted to set the record for getting the most women to kick him in the nuts. At least we don't have to worry about him passing his idiot genes to future generations. Check this out. Is that ambitious or just plane stupid?

And if that isn't enough, here's ambition with Michel Lotito, also known as Monsieur Mangetout, who holds the record for the largest meal ever eaten. This dude ate a Cessna 150 airplane. Unfortunately, after eating the plane, he heard a mysterious voice from his insides. Apparently, he'd accidentally swallowed a passenger who'd fallen asleep and missed deplaning. So the moral of this story–next time you fly–STAY AWAKE!

Wordless Wednesday: Sixth Grade

Can you find me? If not: GOOD!

Maybe you can find the actor who worked at the airport booth in the 

movie Fargo (below). He should have slugged Steve for being so rude.

Please excuse the bad language aimed at my nice classmate!

GBE2: History–Lincoln was Funny

This week's topic–history–is one of my faves; but at the same time, it was hard to narrow my post to one event. In searching historical events online, I remembered Abraham Lincoln who was not only a great leader, but also one of the funniest presidents we've ever elected.

Here are some fun anecdotes about him:

*Once as a young lawyer, several attorneys wrestled outside the court house before a trial. One of the men split his pants causing the others to pass a note asking for money to buy him a new pair of trousers. When the note reached Lincoln, he wrote, "I have nothing to contribute to the end in view."

*A ranking man in the post office, who was a personal friend of Lincoln's, died. A job applicant immediately asked the president if he could take his place?”

“Well,” replied Lincoln. “It’s all right with me if it’s all right with the undertaker.” 

*During the Civil War, Edmund Stanton, the Secretary of War, told Lincoln that General Grant was boozing in his tent.

“Find out what kind of whiskey he is drinking.”

“Why is that, Mr. President?”

“Because I want to send a case of it to my other generals.”

 And finally, here is my favorite story!

*A visitor once asked Lincoln how many men the rebels had in the field. Lincoln replied seriously, “Twelve hundred thousand, according to the best authority.” 

The visitor turned pale and gasped, “Good Heavens!”

Lincoln continued: “Yes, sir; twelve hundred thousand. You see, all of our generals, when they get whipped, say the enemy outnumbers them three to one, and I must believe them. We have four hundred thousand men in the field, and three times four makes twelve. Twelve hundred thousand; no doubt about it.”

Silly Sunday: Teacher Arrested

Not so breaking news:

NEW YORK -- A public school teacher was arrested today at John F. Kennedy International Airport as he attempted to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a set square, a slide rule and a calculator.

 

At a morning press conference, the Attorney General said he believes the man is a member of the notorious Al-gebra movement.

 

He did not identify the man, who has been charged by the FBI with carrying weapons of math instruction. 'Al-gebra is a problem for us', the Attorney General said. 'They desire solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in search of absolute values.'

 

They use secret code names like 'X' and 'Y' and refer to themselves as 'unknowns', but we have determined that they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country.

 

As the Greek philanderer Isosceles used to say, 'There are 3 sides to every triangle'.

 

When asked to comment on the arrest, President Bush said, 'If God had wanted us to have better weapons of math instruction, he would have given us more fingers and toes.'

 

White House aides told reporters they could not recall a more intelligent or profound statement by the President.

 

Writer's Post: Making a Difference

This week's Writer's Post topic is making a difference. Here are five things you should know to make a difference:

1.) Before visiting the dentist one has two choices: floss regularly and have a quick visit or don't floss and have some lady jab your sore gums until blood gushes onto her tools and you're screaming, "Holy sh*t!" Flossing makes a difference.

2.)  When coloring hair, put dye on ones roots for ten to fifteen minutes and then put it on the rest of the hair for the remaining time. That way one's hair won't turn bright orange. Not leaving hair dye all over one's head makes a difference in whether one looks like Bozo or not.

3.)  When one has a scab, don't pick. This will keep it from healing and give one a big, ugly boo boo that won't go away–usually on one's face. Not picking scabs makes a difference.

4.)  When one reaches old age, dump the mild kid deodorant for something stronger. Otherwise, one will stink like an old hag. Switching deodorant makes a difference.

5.)  And finally Mitt Romney made a difference for many when he caused them to lose their jobs so he could make money. Watch the video and remember: Who you vote for makes a difference!

Wordless Wednesday: Possessed Dogs

Honey Bear and Ruby

GBE2: Work

This week's GBE2 writing topic is work. For better or worse, here's my take on it:

For over twenty-five years, I've taught intellectually gifted kids in an affluent suburb of Memphis. I've seen dramatic changes in what and how I teach since the eighties. Don't get me wrong, the kids are great other than the fact that they never grow older. They will always be around nine or ten even though I've aged twenty-five years. Yet their parents have grown younger. When I first started teaching parents were old people, so how did they get so young? Scary!

As for gifted curriculum, it used to be if the kids were happy, the parents were happy, and administration was happy too. I only was responsible for meeting the IEP goals which I wrote. Not anymore. It's all about test scores and achievement.

Gone are the days of paper-mache´ puppet shows, fancy tooth pick bridges, or spending 100,000 fictional dollars on the stock market. Today, teaching is all about curriculum. My math lessons follow closely to what the classroom teacher is doing yet tougher. I teach reading lessons, with reading groups that cover novels. At least they still let me pick my novels–sorta. We have a list of board approved books.

I still love my time with the kids, but I miss egg drop competitions that plummeted raw eggs with goofy faces and silly names down shoots into kid designed landing pads. I can do some of the fun stuff, but by golly I better find an SPI objective before I do.

I used to start each class with a Shel Silverstein poem; now, I begin with Daily Grammar Practice. Sounds awful, but it's not bad. The kids' ability to diagram complex sentences is even impressive.

But teaching means unbelievable pressure. We've heard of teachers cheating to raise their students' test scores. I certainly don't condone this behavior nor would I ever cheat on a test; but honestly, I understand where this is coming from. It doesn't matter if you have a Doctorate degree or how long you've been teaching, it's getting to the point that your students better show growth or you could be out of a job.  Do you know of any other profession where a person's bread and butter is dependent on fickle kids?

In Tennessee, every public school teacher has a minimum of three (was supposed to be four) evaluations every year. These evaluations involve massive time commitments and paper work as administrators who are stretched thin enter classrooms to watch us teach. Plus, the same folks are scouring over value added scores. This is a comparison of students' growth on tests from year to year. Mind you, I teach gifted. This means that even though my students' test scores are already in the upper nineties, I need to show growth! However, when it comes to other measures of student achievement, I'm scored on the performance of the entire school. Ie., kids I don't even teach.

Please remember, I love the kids! I love the delight when they understand something new. And I love hearing them laugh when I inject humor into my lessons. However, I'm ready to retire because I'm tired. Typically, I arrive at school between 7:15 and 7:30 and leave sometime between 5:00 and 6:00 in the evening. Many times, I bring my work home with me once I leave. Sure I just had two weeks of vacation, but I spent several hours of it completing special education report cards, writing IEPs, making flip charts for my Promethean board, grading writing, and re-reading chapters for discussion this week. Unfortunately, the pressure on us is so intense that the fun has evaporated. In fact, when my college age daughter took a career placement test to help her find a major, the counselor said, "Be a teacher."

I said, "Don't you dare!" Those who are eligible to retire are doing so in mass... and this is supposed to improve education? What has the government done to my profession? I know my teachers from the 60s and 70s never worked as hard as I do nor did they get blamed when I misbehaved. We are one of the most disrespected professions and have even been blamed for the weak economy because we have too many benefits. I pay for my insurance, and it's not cheap!

November 1, 2017, that's when I'll be eligible to retire... unless our lovely legislators raise the retirement age.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

To enter leave a comment with your e-mail address.

Visit http://www.youtube.com/user/MyMemoriesSuite to learn more.

For extra entries you may join, click, link, follow, etc. the following 

BUT 

leave a comment with your email address for each extra entry.

 Click on http://www.mymemories.com/ and leave an additional comment stating which scrap booking kit you like the best.

Follow my blog: Catch My Words

Vote for Catch My Words on the picket fence above.

Click on blue "Plus 1" box.

Click on the orange "share" button.

Follow Joyce_Lansky on Twitter

 

Tweet the following: 

@Joyce_Lansky Visit Catch My Words to win free scrap booking kit from My Memories. http://joycelansky.blogspot.com Just leave a comment & you're good.

or a comment of your own.

Join or follow these links:

http://blog.mymemories.com/

http://www.facebook.com/pages/MyMemories/140359372717593 

http://twitter.com/#!/

Best of luck!

You may receive $10 off of your first purchase by going to My Memories and using coupon code #STMMMS17302

$10 Off 

#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

☺☺☺☺☺☺

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.

Wordless Wednesday: Falling Prices?

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!"

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:

If someone needs a hannukkah gift for me......
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/13740099/ns/business-small_business/t/sale-hot-red-ferrari-seller-included/

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.

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?

Wordless Wednesday: Chanukah Ham

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. 

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.