If an average person had a brilliant idea for a movie based on a true story what course of action should that average person take?
One can hardly call up Mr. Scorsese or Mr. Spielberg and say, “Hey man, you don’t know me from a hole in the ground, but I know of this story from the early 1900’s that has the potential to be as big as Forrest Gump.
My lonely life revolves around shopping, blogging, and Facebook, but at least I have a life of sorts. On Facebook I’m particularly vulnerable to clicking on tests–“How Smart are You?” “What Does Your Color Preference Indicate about You?” “Are You a Sociopath? Find out in 10 Easy Steps.”
For the record, there’s a unicorn inside me, which explains the gastric distress.
Like most facebookers, I take the results of these tests with a grain of salt, meaning if I like the results it was a righteous test; if I don’t, it was a lame questionnaire with no legitimacy. I still maintain that I am not a sociopath. Stupid test.
Most of the time these little activities are straightforward and harmless: Click on the site, answer a few multiple choice questions, receive your results. But one day this week I took a quiz and was automatically transferred to the online dating site, FirstMet.
I didn’t answer a single question and left the page immediately. However, the site was linked to my Facebook profile so now I’ve been receiving dozens of emails from potential suitors. They include
Gary, a 55 year old male in Tallahassee who’d like to rock my world. His hobbies include listening to Rush Limbaugh and going to tractor pulls.
Mark, 58, is retired and enjoys television and Chinese take out.
Walt, 62, likes the Hunger Games and country music. Walt has a comb over (I saw his photo).
I thought I could ignore these emails and they’d go away, but they keep coming. Either I’m much more desirable than I ever thought, or these men are slightly desperate. Let’s go with option #2.
Studly Doright really doesn’t want me to date. And honestly, unless Harrison Ford, Huey Lewis, or Adam Levine show up in an email I’m not all that interested.
Finally a Facebook friend showed me how to stop receiving the emails from FirstMet, so maybe my suitors will fade away. Of course now I won’t have any way to know when Harrison tries to contact me. That’s the downside.
Ok, I’m going to go retake that sociopath assessment. Must be more careful this time around. Bwahaha.
Peace, people!
I called for a nacho night, awesome right? Except I ate almost all the cheese before it went on the corn chips… Why do I do these unforgivable things.
I can certainly identify with her dilemma. Nachos sans cheese are just chips. I imagine that when the ingredients met up in her stomach they probably recognized their respective soul mates and did a happy dance.
But her tale reminded me of one from my very early childhood. I commented:
When I was very little my mom made up a mixture of peanut butter and Karo syrup to put on toast. But while she was toasting the bread I devoured the mixture. She got so tickled because I thought the peanut butter and syrup was my breakfast. I remember that vividly and I was only three or four at the time. Your post brought that back to me. Thanks!
I can still picture the confusion on Mother’s face when she brought the toast to the table and found that the peanut butter and syrup bowl was empty–probably licked clean. It was my first taste of that lovely concoction and it was bowl licking good.
Then she began to laugh. And it was a wonderful laugh. We mixed up more of the good stuff and enjoyed it on our toast. And then I watched Captain Kangaroo.
This is why we share our lives through our blogs. The exciting and mundane, the shocking and the bland can provide meaningful connections. You never know when your post is going to trigger a lost memory.
I have to admit this political season in the United States is getting to me. One cannot turn on the TV without encountering a nasty story or stories about this candidate or the other.
On social media one might scroll through dozens of political memes before encountering even one cute kitten video, and weren’t cute kittens the reason social media was invented?
I’m guilty of posting the political stuff on my Facebook page. Even though there is absolutely no one on my friends’ list who doubts my political leanings I am compelled to seek out and share that one photo that just might make everyone, even obstructionists like senate majority leader Mitch McConnell, change their minds and see things my way.
Can you imagine? The phone rings,
“Hello?” I say.
“Ms. Noyes, this is senate majority leader Mitch McConnell.”
“No effing way!”
“Yes, it’s me. Surprise!”I can hear the smile and goodwill in his voice.
“Look,” he continues, “I want you to know that SCOTUS meme you posted…it really made me reexamine my position. Now, not only am I going to urge members of my party to visit with the President’s nominee, but I’m going to suggest they give him a down vote so Mr. Obama can nominate a true Liberal to the court.”
“Well, it’s about time you saw the error of your ways. Would you now please ask jackassinpoughkeepsie to stop trolling me online?”
“Sure! Sure! Anything for someone as politically astute as yourself.”
Something occurs to me, “Say Mitch, you know if you go this route with the Supreme Court nominee the National Rifle Association is going to pull its support so quickly that not only will your head spin, but the heads of your children and your children’s children will look like multi-colored tops orbiting the equator.”
“No worries! I’ve stockpiled the um, donations the NRA has made to my campaign for years, so I’m set for life. For several lives, actually.”
“Good to know, Mitch. So I’m pretty busy. I need to get back to scouring the web for cute cats. I hear there’s a great video showing them jumping out of boxes.”
“Okay! Hey, keep up the good work. You really made me see the light.”
“‘Bye Mitch.”
“Goodbye Ms. Noyes.”
My imaginary conversation with Mitch made me do some soul searching. What if, instead of posting serious political memes on my Facebook page I looked for the lighter side, the Pollyanna version of politics. So with that thought I give you the following. Both sides will get skewered:
Truly. Hitler might be surprised at all of the candidates, left and right, who’ve been compared to him.My point…. See, I’m being kind-ish. Hadn’t seen this one before! Mrs. Clinton does field some odd questions. bwahaha!
Now, this is clever! Sing it! Kasich was the only one I had to struggle to find anything even remotely funny about. Kasich, the only moderately sane GOP candidate.
My personal favorite:
Oh Pan, how could you do the unthinkable and grow up? You promised we’d happily inhabit
Neverland forever, crowing the dawn into existence, sharing feasts with fantastic
Friends and fiends. You taught me to fly, but without you the gift is but another
Form of transportation–lonely, neck straining, wind-battering air travel.
The Lost Boys still sing your praises, I can only cry. My tears turn into streams, then into
rivers. Come back Peter! We can pretend you never left. Pretending is what we do best.
I purchased this bracelet a couple of days ago at Magnolia Mercantile, a funky, fun little shop in Tallahassee, Florida. The saying on the bracelet forced me to write the poem. Honest.
Notice the cute little Tinkerbell dangling from the chain. Is this perfect or what?
Praying for Eyebrowz 