Ork #57

The wife, the boy, and I just finished the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I know that we are somewhat behind the curve on this. I blame the wife due to her incessant need to read the books first - oh what woes literacy has wrought upon this land!. Sorry, I got carried away there. The thought occurred to me; what a thrill to be in a movie like this. But what a bummer to be Ork #57, stabbed in the head and falling to the ground 2 hrs and 47 minutes into the third movie. With all that make-up on, no one would ever know it was you. And you certainly would never get rich on such a role, as I'm sure most Orks only earned scale wages. Cool story, great scenery, just a bit too long. I think I have couch sores.

Click - no joy

Let me start this entry by saying that I love my wife more than anything. However, she has this terribly annoying habit of changing the TV channel right at a critical moment. Here's an example:

"The CIA recently declassified dosuments on UFO's..." Click.
"In a landmark decision, the President announced..." Click.
"The most inportant thing to remember when replacing a faucet is..." Click.
"I have solved the mystery of the pyramids. Their purpose is..." Click.
"OK girls, remove your cheerleading oufits and let's do some nude cheers! Yay!" Click.

You get the idea. I have to resist the urge to wrestle the remote from her handsa nd do a triumphant dance. This would seal my fate as a eunich. My mantra - "haed down, read your magazine".

Snakes!

God bless my wife, she loves animals. We've had more pets in this household than most small zoos. In fact, the leopard geckos are a story for another time. However, there are two animals she absolutely cannot stand - mice and snakes.

The other day, while tending to her garden, she saw an old snake skin on a rock. This alerted her to the possible appearance of a snake at any moment. Of course the snake did show up, he was happily living under the solar heater for the pool. She totally freaked. It is important tonote that in our part of the state there are no poisonous snakes. This particular snake was a garter snake (not a gardener snake as it is commonly called by buffoons and morons nationwide).

The wife decides to enlist the assistance of her son to rid her garden of this vile creature. His help consisted of putting on gardening gloves and saying, "Shoo snake, shoo!" As this was highly ineffective, she decided to leave the area and return later.

Upon her return, the snake was nowhere to be seen. Ah, but snakes have camoflauge and can be difficult to detect. My wife then stomps on the ground and says,"Snakes! You get out of my garden snakes! I really mean it!" I didn't have the heart to tell her that snakes don't have ears. I also didn't have a video camera or I could have won some money from one of those cheesy video shows where people do funny things.

(Ed. note - some artistic license has been liberally applied to this accounting of a factual event.)

32 Blueberries

The kids went blueberry picking with friends the other day. A few days later the following conversation occurred:
Son: I feel sorry for dad.
Wife: Why is that?
Son: Remember when I told you I put 32 blueberries im my mouth the other day?
Wife: Yes, but how did you chew them?
Son: I couldn't, I spit them back into a bowl, and dad ate one when he came home.

This confession sent my wife into spasms of laughter, I was not so pleased. Rinsing them just doesn't cut it. Let this be a warning to all of you with boys. Assume nothing. Luckily, the wife is a nurse and I am on my third and final Cooties treatment. I should be back to 'normal' in a few days.

Pirate Stew

Here's an expeience many parents and kids share:
Kid: What's for dinner?
Parent: Meatloaf with green beans and...
Kid: Eww, I'm not eating that. It's sounds gross.

And so the tale goes, in many houeholds across the globe -
I hate weiner schnitzel, I'm not eating Cous Cous, get that bok choi away from me!

Of course this happened to the wife and I one day. This experience also inspired me to write the following poem. I wondered if making the food sound more appealing to kids might increase their interest in it. Nice theory, it didn't work. But it makes for good reading:

Pirate stew

I don’t like this dinner
It certainly isn’t a winner
My mouth won’t open
I think it’s stuck
The word that comes to mind is YUCK!

What’s that? You say its Pirate Stew
And you got the recipe from grandpa Belew
It will put hair on my chest
And make me grow strong
So I can go pirating
All the day long

I’ll grow a third eye
And have 17 legs
But only 3 of them will be wooden pegs

I’ll steal from the rich
Maybe even rob a bank
And the last guy that didn’t eat it
Had to walk the plank

I’ll take all the treasure that I stole
And bury it all in a very deep hole
Mom, can I have another bowl?

Another politically incorrect story

On our way through North Carolina, we stopped at the local McD's for breakfast. It sounds like we frequent these establishments, nothing could be further from the truth. When we sat down to eat, I noticed my son had ordered sausage biscuits and gravy. I commented that you wouldn't see that at a McD's in the midwest. His reply: "No, because this is redneck food!" I had to look around to se if we had offended any local yokels with confederate flags and gun racks in their trucks. Luckily, just a couple of blue-hairs were nearby and did not hear this. Political Incorrectness runs in the family I guess.

Big Bone Lick

Get your minds out of the gutter, people. Big Bone Lick State Park is near Florence, KY, look it up if you doubt me. While traveling through the area recently, my wife happened to ask the chubby 16-year old behind the counter at McDonald's how Big Bone Lick got it's name. Talk about a deer in headlights. I think the wife offended her southern sensibilities, the poor girl could not look us in the face when she answered that she did not know but would find out for us. How kind is that?

The McManager, a kindly arabic gentleman of about 50ish told us the story: In prehistoric times, mammoths came to the area to use the salt lick there and got stuck in the mud. The local Indians saw the large skeletons and the salt lick and thus the name. I hope the young woman behind the counter doesn't siffer any long term damage from the encounter with us damn yankees.

Inspiration

As a writer, I can say with great satisfaction that inspriation to write comes from many different places. The idea for the following poem came when I learned that my neice put a Lois Lane action figure in the toilet as her brother was flushing it. Despite my brother in law's valliant efforts, Ms. Lane could not be rescued from the comode. Here is the resulting poem:

LOIS LANE WENT DOWN THE DRAIN


Lois Lane went down the drain
I hope she’s not in any pain
Do you think her skirt will have a stain?
This villain must be caught and slain

Lois Lane went down the drain
I hope she doesn’t get ptomaine
Will she walk with a cane?
This villain must be insane

Lois Lane went down the drain
Will we look upon her with disdain?
Has the potty smell messed up her brain?
Will she be late for the 7:30 train?

Lois Lane went down the drain
Is she stuck in the sewer main?
This tragedy must have caused some strain
In the potty, it not easy to be vain

Lois Lane went down the drain
My attention is starting to wane
This poem is becoming inane
Who will save her – SUPERMANE!

Rebuttal

It seems that my brother in law has accused me of choking his toilet to a stop during a recent visit. Let me first say that an unusual set of circumstances came together all at once, kind of like the convergence of planets that astronomers refer to. First, my wife used the comode, then my son used it. Anyone who knows my son's bathroom habits knows that he has kept many a plunger maker in bunsiness over his short but storied lifetime. Second, I believe with all my heart that the sewer systems in the southern USA are antiquated and completely inadequate, especially with the change in our diets since the 1700's (which is probably when this particular sewer was constructed). It is true that I have choked many a toilet to a stop in my heyday. However, regular exercise and a more fiberous diet has lead to excellent regularity. Not to mention, this is the same toilet that has been rendered nearly inoperable after swallowing an action figure sometime last year (more on this later). IN summation, although the circumstancial evidence does point to me, further investigation has exonerated me of this crime.

Hobo Home

Before you send fiery e-mails about the word Hobo, let me explain. I understand that Hobo is politically incorrect, and we now use homeless, but children are not hip to political correctness. While visiting my bro-in-law and his family in the South, my daughter, neice and nephew were playing a game they called "Hobo home." They had placed several cardboard boxes and some nylon cubes on the front lawn as their home. The following conversation was overheard:
Neice: You better not..." acting as Hobo mom and shaking her finger at her brother.
Nephew: "You're not being a very good mom. You're not even being a good Hobo mom."

It seems that familial conflicts happen despite socio-economic class.

WELCOME

This is the first official entry into Insanity Junction. Following later will be short stories and poems/prose on many different topics. There is no way to predict how and when these will occur, but they will occur. Feedback is always welcome. Sit back and enjoy.