Monday, December 25, 2006

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

My favorite Christmas Joke

This is my absolute favorite Christmas Joke. I first heard it back in the early 80's, when it was faxed from office to office (pre-email days).

December 14, 2006
My dearest darling John:
Who ever in the whole world would dream of getting a real Partridge in a Pear Tree? How can I ever express my pleasure.
Thank you a hundred times for thinking of me this way.

My love always,


December 15, 2006
Dearest John:
Today the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine two turtle doves. I'm just delighted at your very thoughtful gift.
They are just adorable.

All my love,


December 16, 2006
Dear John:
Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one. Now I must protest. I don't deserve such generosity, three French hens.
They are just darling but I must insist, you've been too kind.

All my love,


December 17, 2006
Dear John:
Today the postman delivered four calling birds. Now really, they are beautiful, but don't you think enough is enough.
You are being too romantic.



December 18, 2006
Dearest John:
What a surprise. Today the postman delivered five golden rings, one for every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it.
Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.

All my love,


December 19, 2006
Dear John:
When I opened the door today there were actually six geese laying on my front steps.
So you're back to the birds again huh? These geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them?
The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. Please stop.



December 20, 2006
What's with you and those freaking birds??
Seven swans a swimming. What kind of fucking joke is this?
There's bird poop all over the house and they never stop the racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck. It's not funny.
So stop those freaking birds.



December 21, 2006
OK. Buster:
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with 8 maids a milking?
It's not enough with all those birds and 8 maids a milking, but they had to bring their damn cows. There is manure all over the lawn and I can't move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass.


December 22, 2006
Hey Shithead:
What are you.....some kind of sadist? Now there's nine pipers playing. And Christ do they play. They've never stopped chasing those maids since they got here yesterday morning.
The cows are getting upset and they're stepping all over those screeching birds. What am I going to do? The neighbors have started a petition to evict me.

You'll get yours !


December 23, 2006
You rotten jerk::
Now there's ten ladies dancing. I don't know why I call those sluts ladies.
They've been balling those pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and they've got diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit.
The Commissioner of Buildings has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building shouldn't be condemned. I'm calling the police on you !


December 24, 2006
Listen Shithead:
What's with those eleven lords a leaping on those maid and ladies? Some of those broads will never walk again.
Those pipers ran through the maids and have been committing sodomy with the cows.
All twenty-three of the birds are dead. They've been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten vicious swine.

You're sworn enemy,


December 25, 2006
Dear Sir:
This is to acknowledge your latest gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McHolstein.
The destruction, of course, was total.
All correspondence should come to our attention.
If you should attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants have been instructed to shoot you on sight. With this letter please find attached a restraining order prohibiting you from any contact with our client. Also, we have forwarded this to the ASPCA and PETA, who are interested in the trampling death of the 23 birds.


Law Offices of Dewey,.Cheetum, and Howell


Monday, December 18, 2006

Christmas Songs

There are Christmas songs that I like. There are ones that I hate. And there are ones that are annoying.

But there is only one song that I both love and hate, or course not at the same time.

I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
and presents on the tree

Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light gleams
I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

Now look at those lyrics. This is not a happy song. The person singing is NOT coming home for Christmas, and depending upon your interpretation, may never come home. He is asking that the holiday traditions continue in his absense, giving him some solace in his loneliness.

It is a sad and poignant song; one that reminds that holidays are more than just days off, parties and gifts. It reminds that it is the traditions that holds families together, even when they are not geographically together.

So when this song is sung with a snappy, upbeat rhythm; when the singer is happy; when it implies that the person is actually coming home; I get torqued.

Don't these people listen to the words?

I know the answer, they don't. I also knew someone who played "When a Man Loves a Woman" at their wedding for their first dance.

Friday, December 08, 2006

No surprises here

Your Political Profile:
Overall: 10% Conservative, 90% Liberal
Social Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
Personal Responsibility: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal
Fiscal Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
Ethics: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
Defense and Crime: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal

Thursday, December 07, 2006

And, Somehow, A Good Day

Depression is a funny thing. (see post below) My daughter told me not worry, because depression is all in my head (she was being serious). Then she said that maybe something good will happen today.

And, of course, she was correct.

I'm published.

Not how I expected, but published is published. My first submission as a free lance writer was published today in one of the local newspapers. Hopefully, this is the first of many pieces they pick up. It's not my novel nor one of my short stories, and journalism is not the same as fiction, but I'm reporting on kids' sports, and my novel is about kids' sports.

But still, it means that someone, other than my mother, likes my writing. And that is a good thing.

Bad Day

Last year I posted about December 7th.

Today would have been my 10th wedding anniversary, if in fact, my husband had lived. He died from Cancer 6 months after we were married, so I never had an anniversary.

When I read my post from last year, I realized that I was depressed and morose when I wrote that. And a little bit angry too.

This year I went through that on the anniversary of his death. Now that the wedding day has come, I feel sad, but not devastated, as I did last June.

Funny how what I expected to upset me didn't, and what I didn't expect to did.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Of Coffee and Potatoes

Now I'm not saying that I'm not at fault. Perhaps it really is my fault, but if it is, I just don't understand. Not that this would be anything new. I went through most of my school years not getting "it". I always felt that I had missed the memo that detailed fashion, music, behavior and slang that would have kept me from being out of synch, socially, with my peers.

So maybe I missed the shopping memo too.

It started in Starbucks. Now I sincerely enjoy a good latte, and Starbucks comes pretty close, but it is just a bit too smooth and creamy for me. I've tried with skim milk, but then you lose the frothiness. I've found that extra expresso gives it the bitterness that I enjoy in my coffee, so that's what I ordered.

Me: I'd like a medium latte with an extra shot of expresso.
Counter Girl 1: It already has two shots of expresso.
Me: OK, I'd like an extra one.
Counter Girl 1: You want three shots?
Me: Yes.
Counter Girl 1: Three?
Me: Yes.
Counter Girl 1 (to Counter Girl 2, who was making the coffee drinks): Medium Latte with and extra shot of expresso.
Counter Girl 2: Three shots?
Counter Girl 1 (cocking her head at me): She wants three.
Counter Girl 2 just shakes her head.

Now perhaps I broke some coffee ordering protocol. I know some of the counter people get annoyed because I won't order using the words Tall, Grande, and Venti. Perhaps three shots of expresso in a latte is tantamount to ordering red wine with ice. I don't know.

I would have just dismissed that if I hadn't had another shopping incident. I was checking out of the grocery store and the clerk was checking out and bagging.

Clerk: Do you have anymore produce?
Me (Obviously I don't load the groceries on the conveyor belt correctly either): No, that's it.
Clerk: You don't have any potatoes.
Me: Not this week.
Clerk: You're not buying potatoes?
Me (now I'm started with feel the need to justify my purchases): I have pasta and rice.
Clerk (Quite discussed): But no potatoes!

I was about to tell her that I bought a 5 lb bag last week and still had enough left, when I realized that I didn't need to explain my choices to the check-out clerk. I smiled and paid, wondering if, once again, I'd broken some sort of shopping rule.

If anyone has those lost memos, please send me a copy.