Archive for October, 2013

Things haven’t been right since my mama accidentally dropped her little bundle of joy on the vinyl game mat so many years ago. It’s hard balancing a baby when you’re playing Twister. Mama taught me a lot about life, but all I can remember is: left foot red, right hand blue. Oh, that Twister ties you up in a knot.

As I got older (mostly due to the passage of time and not because I matured), my education continued in The School of Hard Knocks; most of which landed on my head and hence the title of our little story today. Mother thoughtfully enrolled me in this school simply by birthing me. Your mother did too? I knew it. We’re all classmates in this school whether we like it or not. However, this is not a tale of woe. It’s a tale of whoa! As in, slow down Dr. Phil while I sort this out. But even if I were to succeed, all I’d have is a well sorted life. So what? Botanists do the same thing categorizing plants and they’re no happier than I am. Still I wonder, if a botanist was a vegan, would they feel guilty about eating their work. Read the rest of this entry »

 

This Protestant hymn begs the question: What exactly is a sheave and why does it need to be brought in?

Well to answer that question, you’ve first got to listen to the song and then you should read the story. Here is the audio: Bringing in the Sheaves (Disco Version). Pay particular attention (if you can withstand it) to the chorus beginning at the 30 second mark.

I’ll assume you’ve just endured it, I mean listened to it. Are you still conscious? You surprise me then. Let me begin by defining some terms:

 

Sheaves    –       Bundles in which cereal plants are bound after reaping.

Bringing in  –      Picking up something that was formerly out, and carrying it to a place that is now in. Read the rest of this entry »

This is the city: Los Angeleez Califor-ni-a. The following story is true. The names were left the same because there were no innocent to protect. In a moment a description of the events. But first an ad from our sponsor Chesterfield Cigarettes:

More deceased doctors recommend Chesterfield Cigarettes for their cadavers who smoke cigarettes than any other brand. Why not try a Chesterfield today and experience the full rich tobacco flavor of toxic gases slowly nestling into your once pink lungs. And with Chesterfield there’s no morning hack. In fact, after smoking them for a while, there’s no morning at all. Just mourning.  

That’s how you could advertise cigarettes in 1954. And now back to our True Story:

 

 

A telephone conversation between frantic landlady Florence Katz Ross and her unimpressed friend Gladys Rabinowitz:

Florence: Yes operator. I’d like MElrose3-9421.

Operator: One moment please. OK. Go ahead.

Florence:  Hello Gladys? Gladys, you’re never gonna believe what just happened.

Gladys:     Well what is it honey? Do tell.

Florence:  Well I was just adjusting the rabbit ears on my new 8” Philco-Vision TV set to watch my stories, when Frank Sinatra and Joe DiMaggio break down my door with an axe, run over to me and demand to know where Marilyn is. I said   “Marilyn who?” And Joe says, “My wife Marilyn Monroe. She’s shacking up here with some bum and I’m gonna give it to him real good see. You capish lady? Now where is she?” Read the rest of this entry »