Tag Archives: mothers

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Blogging Comedy

 

I started a blog about procrastination.  I’ll publish the first post tomorrow

Blogging is the only job where you can spend three hours writing, two hours editing, and the rest of the day refreshing the page to see if your mom left a comment.

I once wrote a blog post titled “How to Go Viral.”

It got three views—two were me checking for typos, and one was a bot from Russia.

My editor once criticized my blog….
….He said that double negatives were a “no-no.”

I wrote a scientific blog-post about Oxygen and Potassium….
….It was OK

I wrote a blog-post about pregnancy, and used ‘can’t, and ‘won’t.’….
….My first comment said, “You’re having contractions.”

A newly published novelist wrote in her blog that her 100,000-word thriller got her $1,000,000 from her publisher.

She bragged at a party that her words are worth $10 each. A slightly drunk guy walked up, confronted her by the bar, plopped down $10 and says “OK, wise ass, give me one of those $10 words.” The writer calmly stuffed the bill in her pocket, said “Thanks” and walked away.

There are just too many blogs – and I will discuss the problem in my next post.

I went to Church and said, “Father, I need to confess.”
He replied, “It’s okay, I read your blog.”

I blog, therefore I am….
….exhausted.

Blogged today. Survived another existential crisis.

If I had a dollar for every blog idea I never finished, I could hire a ghostwriter.

Fashion bloggers do it with style.

Food bloggers know how to dish it out.

Behind every successful blogger….
….is a neglected laundry pile.

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’23 A To Z Challenge – M

 

Weirdoes Racists I Have Known

The lives of my Mother, and another woman in town, paralleled each other for decades.  They both got married.  They both had a baby girl.  They both got divorced.  They both lived as a single mother for ten years.  They both got remarried in 1943.  My Father was invalided out of the Armed Services, to return home and marry her.  I don’t know where the other woman dug up a man to marry, in the middle of World War II.

He was never the picture of glowing health, and I guess somebody had to stay and work in the factories – although, all three local factories produced solid-wood home furniture, not exactly crucial to the war effort.  Both women gave birth to a boy in 1944. (Me!)  In 1947 they both had another boy.

By the time I met him a few years later, he was already known to all and sundry as Tojo.  His father’s first name was Ivan, a good Russian name.  The family name was a very uncommon German name.  I suspect that the father provided the nickname, but don’t understand how a German-Canadian kid got a Japanese moniker, so soon after VJ-Day.  He kept it till he left secondary school.

He apparently also got word-usage and pronunciation from his dad.  He used phrases like, “Blacker’n Toby’s ass.”  I never learned who the unfortunate “Toby” was, or why (perhaps only) his ass was black.  Santa Claus came down his chimbley.  A large, striped feline was a tagger.  Farm birds that produced eggs, were chookens, and a dropped football was a thumble.  No-one else in his family – in the town – talked this way.

Already encumbered with a racist sobriquet, he regularly dropped another one in particular.  My neighbor wanted me to shovel his driveway, but he only wanted to pay me a

MEASLY

fifty cents, the heimy bastard.
‘Measly’ always seemed to indicate an itchy body-rash of raised, red pustules, but in fact means contemptibly small, meager, or slight: wretchedly bad or unsatisfactory:

On the other hand, heimy – or heimey – or jaime, was a racist slur against Jews, and their perceived cheapness and lack of willingness to spend money.  Unconscious bigotry like this may have contributed to Canada’s refusal to accept German-Jew refugees.

I haven’t heard/read the term heimy in decades.  Nor have I heard anyone speak of Jewing someone  down, to get a better price.  Hopefully, we’re growing out of that prejudice.  How about you?  Have you ever run into it?  Lately??  😳

 

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Sick Of Fibbing Friday

Pensitivity101 gave us some sickness last week.  I’m returning it here.

  1. What is rubella?
    It’s the “Happy Ending” that lonely guys get, at those special massage parlors.

    2. What is Winter Fever more commonly known as?

The Mother of Spring Fever – not to be confused with The Mothers Of Invention.  A steam train engine is an invention – therefore Necessity is its Mother.

3. What is Scrofula?

It’s another term of endearment that the wife gives me, if I don’t brush my hair immediately upon arising.  People who live in glass houses…. Should buy thick drapes.

4. What is Grippe?

A French guy’s moist handshake.   🙄

5. What is Quinsy?

It was a highly successful TV show about a guy who hung around with dead bodies.  Americans will watch anything!  Where is Magnus Pike when we need him?? Still doing Thomas Dolby videos?   😕

6. What is St Vitus Dance?

It was the 19th century name for what became the 21st century’s rave.

7. What is Dropsy?

It’s a term to describe the result of my age-enhanced essential tremor at the dining table.  When I finish a meal, it looks like I passed the food up through the tablecloth.  😳

8. What is Croup?

It is the shortened, familiar name that Americans have given to the casino employee who rakes away your losings with a window-curtain rod, at a blackjack table.

9. What is Ague?

It’s a spirited discussion about whether or not there should be a letter R in that word.

10. What is Apoplexy?

It is trying to read something through the bottom of a soft-drink bottle.  That’s why very near-sighted people are said to have ‘Coke bottle glasses.’

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It’s Called Theft

When I was out today, I saw a phone on the table outside a coffee shop that had been left there, so I pocketed it. It started to ring….
I took it out of my pocket and the caller I.D. said ‘Mom’.
I put it back on the table and slowly backed away.
How did she know I was up to no good?

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Trump managed to do in 4 years, what 80% of presidents didn’t do in 8 years.
Lose an election

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Two women were playing golf.
The first woman teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole.

The ball hit one of the men. He immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.

The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize. ‘Please allow me to help. I’m a Physical Therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you’d allow me,’ she told him.

‘Oh, no, I’ll be all right. I’ll be fine in a few minutes,’ the man replied. He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still clasping his hands at his groin.

At her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and put her hands slowly and carefully inside.

She then administered a tender and skillful massage for several long moments and softly asked ‘How does that feel’?

Feels wonderful, he replied; but I still think my thumb’s broken!

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A man goes to see a fortune teller.

She begins “your name is Steve”, “Wrong”.
“Your favourite colour is green”, “Wrong”.
“You have a dead uncle who passed away 2 years ago”, “Wrong”.
“Your wife’s name is Carol”, “Wrong”
“You have 2 children named John and Christian”, “Wrong”.
“You are a painte…”, “Wrong”.

Getting flustered the woman asks “What in bloody hell do you do then?”
“I investigate fraud.”

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A man is walking in the desert with his horse and his dog when the dog says, “I can’t do this. I need water.”

The man says, “I didn’t know dogs could talk.”

The horse says, “Me neither!”

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Hee-Haw!

What happens when you put a sex-crazed female donkey and Donald Trump in the same room??
Nothing!  Even donkeys have standards.

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WEBSITE IDEA: “HOT OR NOT?”
Where husbands post pictures of thermostats, and other guys comment on whether to turn it up or down.

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Did you know today is Pancake Day? Apparently it just crêped up on us….

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I don’t believe in a deity, but I faithfully observe all holidays that involve baked goods or candy.

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I don’t think I was a difficult teenager, but I’m not sure my parents would agree. One night, we were discussing over dinner what we wanted to have happen when we died.  I said I didn’t want a funeral; I wanted a party.  Without a pause, my mom said, ”Oh, there’ll be a party.”

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Jesus decided to help St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.  A very old man approached.  Jesus asked him what he had done in his life.  The old man replied that he was a carpenter.
Jesus looked closely.  “Is it??….  Is that you, father?
The old man peered back at him.  “Is that you, Pinocchio?

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Garbage Picker

Garbage Can

I remember the first time that I ate out of a garbage can. 😯 It was in the late 1940s, and Kellogg’s was trying a new marketing scheme.

Variety-Pack

Their cereals came in small and large boxes, but they began offering them in tiny, serving-size boxes. The equivalent of a large box would get you 10 or 12 of these, all wrapped together. The fronts had an H-shaped perforation. You peeled back the two cardboard wings, and did the same with the waxed-paper liner inside. You poured milk right into the box, and ate the cereal right from it.

This was one of the first “labor-saving devices.” Working mothers didn’t have bowls to wash. The extra labor and packaging material made them more expensive, so they didn’t do well in my cheap, dirt-poor little town.

Kellogg’s produced them in every flavor that they made. They also made a ‘Variety Pack”, with some of each. The tiny, independent grocery carried them for a while. It sat beside a laneway to another street. There was a garbage pail right beside – not a dumpster – nobody could afford to throw that much away. Somehow, one of the sampler packs came apart. Unable to sell it, the grocer just gathered the pieces up, and dropped it into the garbage pail beside his building.

Finally dry from his immersion in the Niagara River, yours truly was busy skulking and gallivanting around town. I approached the store by the alley, from the next street. I stopped to look in the garbage pail, and couldn’t believe it. Someone was throwing perfectly good food away. There were little boxes of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes, Vim, Rice Krispies, All Bran, Shredded Wheat, Bran Flakes – several types that I’d like to try, but couldn’t afford to purchase a whole big (or small) box, in case I didn’t like them.

They were all “Good-For-You” cereals…. and all that Bran! You wouldn’t be just regular – more like steady. I don’t remember any Sugar Corn Pops, or Sugar Smacks, or Sugar Anything. Sugar hadn’t been invented yet – or perhaps it wasn’t off wartime rationing. That’s why old people like me are sour and bitter. They had nothing sugary to sweeten them up.

The pail was relatively new and clean. The bulk package cardboard was pristine. The small inner packs touched only it. I dug out most of the tiny boxes – as many as my little arms could carry, and quickly headed for home with them. I told my Mother that ‘someone was throwing them away,’ without mentioning the garbage can, and had a bowel-cleansing assortment of breakfasts for almost two weeks.

Even today, there are individuals and groups – and not just homeless people – who regularly comb supermarket dumpsters for food deemed unsalable – packaged meats, cheeses, bread products, even fruit and vegetables, past their ‘Best Before’ dates. They eat it themselves, or donate it to food banks, to be used today. It saves money, and reduces the amount going to landfill sites.

The son works a midnight shift. He leaves work at 7:30 AM, and reaches the nearby supermarket just as it opens at 8:00, to purchase a discount copy of the Toronto Sun newspaper. He has learned to look at the other discount racks. Stock that will be thrown out tomorrow, is on sale today, for 20%, 30% – 50% off. He often comes home with half-price ground beef, steaks, roasts, bread, and buns. What doesn’t become his 9:00 AM ‘midnight snacks’, or goes into his little apartment-sized freezer, often makes its way into the household larder.

Reduce Reuse Recycle! Waste not – Want not. Do you do anything like this, to aid your economy, and the Ecology?

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Frankly, A Great Challenge

Footprints Challenge

AFrankAngle has issued a fiction challenge. He is asking his readers to take the above photo, compose a 150 word story about it, and link to his post.  Stop over there to see what he, and others, have written about footsteps in the sand.  Here is my offering.

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

Bobby was almost six. A fisherman’s son, he lived on an island off the Carolina coast. He’d had an argument with his Mom.  He wasn’t going to blindly obey her rules any more.  He would run away from home, and live on his own.

He packed what he thought he’d need, and marched down to the shore. The mainland was a blur, and he couldn’t run a boat.  Fine, he’d find a spot in the grass or trees to live.  With his driftwood ‘staff’, he trudged up the beach.

No suitable spot appeared, so he kept slogging – on and on. He finally came around a headland….and there was the dock again.  There was the big log on the beach – and somebody was sitting on it.  It was his Mom.  She just held out her arms and said, “Lunch is almost ready.”

Oh well, he could run away some other time.

Footprints Victory

For Frank, and others, I also offer the story of a devout man who died and went to Heaven. Before God actually ushered him in, He showed him his life with God.  The man saw it as a walk along the shore with God – two parallel lines of footprints in the sand.

At certain spots in his life, there was only one set of prints. When he looked closer, he realized that these had been the hardest times of his life.  He said to God, “How could You have abandoned me when I most needed You?”  God replied, “My child, those were the times when I carried you.”

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Beating The System

A couple in their late 60s went into the doctor’s office.  He said, “What can I do for you?”  The man said, “Will you watch us have intercourse?”  The doctor was puzzled, but agreed.  When the couple had finished, the doctor said, “There is nothing wrong with the way you have intercourse.”  He charged them $50.00, and they left.

This happened several weeks in a row.  The couple would make an appointment, have intercourse, pay the doctor the $50, and leave.

Finally, the doctor said, “What exactly are you trying to find out?”  The man said, “Oh, we’re not trying to find anything out.  She’s married, so we can’t do it at her house.  I’m married, so we can’t do it at my house. The big hotel downtown charges $100 for a room, and the fancy one by the airport wants $125.  We do it here for $50, and qualify for a $45 rebate from the Government Health Plan.

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ME MUDDER

When my prayers were early said
Who tucked me in my widdle bed
And spanked my ass till it was red?
–ME MUDDER—

Who lifted me from my cosy cot
And set me on an ice cold pot
And made me pee if I could or not?
–ME MUDDER—

And when the morning light had come
And in my crib I dribbled some
Who wiped my tiny little bum?
–ME MUDDER—

Who did my hair so neatly part
And pressed me gently to her heart
And sometimes squeezed me till I’d fart?
–ME MUDDER—

 

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Dear Mom and Dad:

It has been a couple of months since I left for college.  I have been remiss in writing, and I am very sorry for my thoughtlessness.  I will bring you up to date now, but before you read on, please sit down.  Okay?

Well then, I am getting along pretty well now.  The skull fracture and concussion i got when I jumped out of the window of my dormitory when it caught fire shortly after my arrival are pretty well healed.  I only spent two weeks in the hospital.  I can see almost normally now, and only get those sick headaches once a day.

Fortunately, the fire and my jump were witnessed by the attendant at the gas station near my dorm.  He was the one who called the Fire Dept. and ambulance.  He also visited me at the hospital, and since I had nowhere to live, he was kind enough to invite me to share his apartment.  It’s really just a basement room, but it’s kind of cute.  He is a fine boy. We have fallen deeply in love, and are planning on getting married.  We have not set an exact date yet, but it will be before my pregnancy begins to show.

I know how much you are looking forward to being grandparents, and will love taking care of the baby as I continue my schooling.  The reason for the delay in our marriage is that my boyfriend had some minor infection which prevents us from passing our premarital blood test, and I carelessly caught it from him.  It will clear up soon with the daily penicillin injections I am taking.

I know you will welcome him into our family with open arms.  He is kind, and although not well educated, he is ambitious.  He is of a different religion from ours, and I know your oft-expressed tolerance will not permit you to be bothered by the fact that his skin is a little darker than ours.

His family background is good too.  I am told that his father is an important gun-bearer in the village in Africa from which he comes.

Now that I have brought you up-to-date, I want to tell you that there was no dormitory fire.  I did not have a skull fracture or concussion.  I was not in hospital.  I am not pregnant.  I am not engaged.  I do not have syphilis, and there is no “schvartze” in my life.  However, I did get an F in History, and an F in Science – and I wanted you to see these marks in proper perspective.

 

Your loving daughter,

 

__________________

 

Mace23042014