Photo safaris have become a hit among newly retired seniors. Many of our generation were regular devotees of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom every Sunday. What can rival the grace of a gang of angry baboons chasing co-host, Jim Fowler while Marlin Perkins offers his whispered narration from off scene? Continue reading
Caution: Adult content. If you have a weak stomach or bladder control problems, you may want to take a pass on this post. It’s definitely not for the faint of heart.
My online friends have recently created a new blogger award. It’s called the Cold Shower Award, for the steamiest love scenes. In an effort to impress them with my heavy breathing skills, I thought I should write a senior love scene. Continue reading
Joe turned to my friend in English class and said, “fart is a verb.” Joe was kind of sweet on her and thought this would be a good pick-up line. In point of fact, fart can be either a verb or a noun. I won’t bother to conjugate it for you, or come up with adjectives and adverbs to describe it. I shall simply point out the obvious: grammar is not the way to a woman’s heart. Continue reading
“I can’t really help with the yardwork today.” I sighed dramatically. “My brain tumor is acting up.”
My husband wasn’t buying it. “Weeding the garden won’t aggravate a tumor.”
“Are you kidding me? Any exertion could cause an aneurysm to explode in my skull.”
He glanced up, “Have you been having headaches?”
“How’s your blood pressure been?”
“Borderline, but the doctor said recent research suggests that borderline is the new high.”
He shook his head. “If you finish the weeding, I’ll have some flowers to bring to your funeral.” Continue reading
The barometric pressure is dropping, there’s a cold front moving in from the North, and snot has frozen in my nose. Yes, I think it’s cold enough for me. Continue reading
I’m so pleased to have my friend, and funny lady, Joan Oliver Emmer as a guest blogger today! Joan’s website, Body of Work is definitely one of my favorites. Enjoy her love / hate relationship with logins on my site, then I’d be tickled if you use the link above to come over to her site and get my take on Groundhog Day. Enjoy! Continue reading
I don’t drink and I don’t normally do drugs. Yay me! Having said that, there are a few instances where I’ve gladly taken prescription narcotics. These include surgery, accidents, and MRIs. Yes, you say, but now they have the open Magnetic Resonance Imaging where they don’t have to cram you into an oversized toilet paper tube.
It’s true that your lower body sticks out in the open, but your head is still inches from the walls. Since my face, through which I breathe and see is attached to my head, I can hardly not notice the proximity of my nose to 1,000 pounds of oversized donut. Add to that the fact that I have a rather generous size noggin, and you get the real fear that it will take two crowbars, a winch, and a pound of chicken fat to pry me back out.
I have a very high tolerance for narcotics, and a very low tolerance for stuff up against my face, so I’m always careful to tell the doctors to make mine a double. Years ago, they failed to believe me, and I woke up in the middle of a surgical procedure. I yelled “Get it off me. I can’t breathe.” as I batted at the mask, all the while there were various surgical instruments sticking out of my neck. I need to seriously examine my priorities.
Since I stopped drinking, I haven’t felt the need to strip naked in the car on the way home from the office Christmas party. Good times. I haven’t done a face plant in my dinner plate while playing host to a table full of Canadian dignitaries. Trust me, it’s hard to be the gracious hostess with mashed potatoes up your nose.
Yes, that actually happened.
I had natural childbirth when I delivered both of my kids, while my Mom was taking hits of ether when she pooped me out. That probably explains a lot. I was feeling no pain when the doctor slapped me on the butt.
Hemingway may have been able to write The Old Man and the Sea while totally hammered, but when I’m drunk, I type a page full of nothing but semi colons. This does not make for classic literature.
So Wednesday when I go in for my MRI, I’m going to bite the bullet and refuse their offer of a handful of valium. I’ll just hum the theme song from Rocky quietly in my head. My dignity is at stake. Besides, they don’t have a bar that I can dance on.
I cleaned the cat’s litterbox yesterday, and he showed his customary pleasure when using the fresh sand for the first time. Here was uncharted territory—virgin sand. OK, cats lead a rather boring life, but that’s about how I felt yesterday when I was tagged for the first time on Facebook (purring). My friend, Joan was daring me to participate in a little social experiment by listing 25 things about myself that others may not already know. Continue reading
Janet Evanovich’s writing is funny, sparkling, and a bit off the wall. In a recent interview she stated that she’s not all that funny in person. If I were a wildly successful, petite redhead, we could be twins. Continue reading
What makes a writer? For one thing, he wants to have his work read by others. I’ve had a lot of fun reading my friends’ books, and for a long time, I’ve wanted to share a little of my current work in progress. I’ve decided to finally indulge myself with a little clip from my murder mystery, Box of Rocks. I hope you enjoy coming along for the ride. Continue reading