Author: nananoyz

I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats.

Slipping Away

i talk to myself
hoping to
unknot persistent
ideas that
repeatedly careen
around the
smooth cornerless
contours of my mind
like a bird against a
pane wanting in,
even if they die
in the process.

mixed media art by Alex Cherry

In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: If you could have a guarantee that one specific person was reading your blog who would it be? What would you say to them?

I’m awfully good at flippant remarks, and so very many rushed to mind when I first read this prompt. For once instead of just blurting out a quick answer, I took a deep breath and thought. And thought. Then I thought some more. I thought so long that several daily prompts came and went, and I was still thinking.

Finally I decided.

Mom, 

I miss you. I think you would have enjoyed my blog. Heck, you’d have had one yourself. You’d have never thought your writing was good enough, but you’d have continued writing just the same. I get that from you. 

I hope you can read between the lines of my posts and see just how much I still love you and how much of you lives on in me.

With love,

Leslie

Speaking of Festivals

Recently I wrote about attending the annual Mayhaw Festival in Monticello, Florida, and my general love of quaint all-American festivals. KH, the older of my two younger brothers did some research for me and discovered not one, not two, but five festivals celebrating (ta-da!) testicles!

What do you think? Which one provides the greatest opportunity for me to be named Ms. Testicle? My personal favorite is the one where you can “Come have a ball with Jesus!” Read on:

The following material can be found on guycodeblog.mtv.com; Author NEAL STASTNY (@NEALSTAS) IS A COMEDIAN AND WRITER IN NEW YORK.

1. Testy Festy

Testy Festy, held every year in Clinton, Montana, features wet T-shirt contests, the Undie 500 (men and women race tricycles in their underwear) and even a big ball contest for guys who aren’t scared to drop trou…and aren’t scared of that deep-fryer.

2. Olean Testicle Festival

What began as a small gathering of family and friends in Olean, Missouri, now provides thousands of people with their testicle fix. The event features live music and a “motorcycle burn-out contest.” There’s no better way to spend an afternoon than by hanging with bikers and eating testicles.

3. Texas Testicle Festival

If the other two festivals too secular for you, then try the Texas Testicle Festival, where the motto is “Come Have a Ball With Jesus.” The event, started by real-life cowboys, features a ball-eating contest, gospel music, a roping contest and a church service. It’s hard to get more American than cowboys, religion and fried food.

4. Tiro Testicle Festival

This festival, held every year in Tiro, Ohio‘s Tiro Tavern, is a little smaller than the others, so it’s perfect for someone who wants to celebrate testicles but avoid the crowd.

5. Oakdale Testicle Festival

To separate itself from the other testicle festivals, this one in Oakdale, California (“Cowboy Capital of the Word”), lets festival-goers select the slogan. This year’s was “30 Years And Still Hangin!” Is your testicle pun good enough for 2014?

  

Peace, people!

It’s My Party

In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: You’re throwing a party–for you! Tell us all about the food, drinks, events, and party favors you’ll have for your event of a lifetime. Use any theme you’d like. It’s your party.

I’m awkward at parties, even my own. I can’t imagine that my imaginary party would be any different.

“Hi, come on in!”

“How do you like the disco ball?”

“Are you going to eat your tots?”

“Yes, those are mothballs you’re smelling. Why do you ask?”

“Goulash for everyone!”

“Who’s up for a rousing round of piñata poking?”

“Every guest receives a free kitten and a box of condoms.”

Prepositional Journey

Drove to the beach

Picnicked on the pier

Waded in the waves

Sipped at a beer

Napped beneath the sun

Strolled upon the sand

Searched for seashells

Listened to a band

Gathered up the towels

Rinsed off my toes

Drove into town

Rubbed lotion on my nose.

Being Alive

Living in this world
takes concentration and verve
not to mention nerve.

  
Pain abounds in life
miseries without an end
oh humanity!

 

Yet deep within us
exists enduring beauty
sweetly transcendent.

  
Photos found on Pinterest.

Peace, people!

World’s Most Pitiful Garage Sale

Our little neighborhood of Lake Yvette planned a community garage sale for this fine Saturday morning. Eagerly I joined the ranks of those willing to participate. Gamely I priced some of the treasures (junk) that we moved from Illinois to Florida a little over a year ago. 

I’d forgotten that the roofers were coming this morning. They were supposed to have come on Thursday, but we had rain so they rescheduled. Now there are nail guns hammering to the mind-numbing tune of an air compressor, not to mention a truck partially blocking my driveway.

Here I sit, surrounded by treasures (junk). People stop and look for a few minutes before saying something like, “How do you stand this racket?” 

I answer, “Huh?”

Then they leave. 

I’ve taken in $3. My portion of the ad was $10. My signs cost $7. Only $14 until I break even.

Peace, people!

Oh, Studly Doright is on the golf course, I get 100% of the profits. How much is 100% of nothing?

Nana’s Visit

I wrote this piece for my grandchildren Garrett and McKayla several years ago. Parts of it are even true. 

Nana’s Visit

“Nana’s coming, Nana’s coming!” sang Garrett as he ran in circles around the room.”
“Nana’s coming, Nana’s coming!” echoed Little Mac following closely behind her brother.

Mama covered her ears with her hands.

“Enough, you two!” she exclaimed. “You are making me crazy!”

Garrett giggled. So did Little Mac.

“When will she be here?” Garrett asked, jumping up and down.
“Yeah, when will Nana be here?”asked Little Mac, hopping on one foot.

“Soon,” smiled Mama.

“Are we going to the airport to pick her up?” asked Garrett.

“No, not the airport,” Mama said.

“Are we going to the train station to pick her up?” asked Little Mac.

“No,” Mama shook her head. “Not the train station.”

“Hmmm,” said Garrett.
“Hmmm,” repeated Little Mac.

“Is she riding a bus?” Garrett wondered.
“Yeah, a bus!” shouted Little Mac. “A school bus!”

Mama laughed, “Nope. Keep guessing!”

“Then she must be driving her car!” whooped Garrett. “We can ride around with the top down!”

“Wheeeee!” squealed Little Mac.

“Still wrong,” Mama said. “She isn’t driving her car either.”

Garrett frowned for a moment. “I hate to tell you this, Mama,” he said. “We are all out of guesses.”

“Yeah,” said Little Mac, crossing her arms and frowning, too. “All out of guesses.”

Just then, Mama put a finger to her lips. “Shhh,” she said. “I think I hear something outside our house.”

Garrett and Little Mac raced to the front door and into the yard just in time to see a shiny red motorcycle pull into their driveway. The rider turned off the motor, pulled off her helmet and smiled.

“Nana?” asked Garrett.
“Nana!” squealed Little Mac.

Sure enough, it was Nana.