Tag: humor

WordPress Premature Publication or Textual Dysfunction

I’m having an issue with premature publication on WordPress. Often, I’ll have several pieces queued up to publish on future dates. If I go into a piece to edit it, WordPress totally ignores my original date of scheduled publication and publishes it immediately when I click the update button. 

This makes me say bad words as I rush to change the date and delete the post from my Facebook page. I’m becoming fluent in bad words. Ok, I was already fluent in bad words, but the ones I’m using are beyond the pale. 

Any suggestions for preventing premature publication, viagra, perhaps for textual dysfunction?

Whistle Stop Cafe

Studly Doright bought a new old motorcycle as a gift to himself for his upcoming birthday necessitating a quick trip to Atlanta, Georgia, on Friday evening. About 50 miles outside of Atlanta I saw a billboard for the Whistle Stop Cafe, made famous in Fannie Flagg’s novel, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe and the film, Fried Green Tomatoes. 


I’ve read the book more than once, and I’ve seen the movie enough times to be able to quote entire lines of dialogue from memory, so being something of a kid I began an earnest campaign for us to make a side trip to the cafe on our return to Doright Manor on Saturday.

“Please, oh please, oh please can we visit? I want to yell ‘Towanda!’ at the top of my lungs and eat fried green tomatoes!”

Studly, being the patient man he is grumbled something like, “Hmmmph.”

I took that to mean, “Certainly, sweetheart, whatever makes you happy!”

Of course he was driving in Atlanta traffic at the time, so my interpretation might’ve been off by a word or two.

We spent the night in Atlanta, picked up the motorcycle, which happily met Studly’s expectations, at 10 a.m., and then plugged the address for the Whistle Stop Cafe in Juliette, GA, into the GPS. 

Juliette is about 55 miles south and slightly east of Atlanta, nestled in the gently rolling farmland and forests of southeastern  Georgia. Turning into its main street felt like stepping back in time.


Studly and I arrived just in time for lunch. That’s his “new” ’72 Yamaha R5 in the photo.


For an appetizer we had the famous fried green tomatoes. So delicious!


The cafe isn’t large, so be prepared to wait for a table should you ever visit. Studly and I sat at the horseshoe shaped lunch counter. 

He had fried chicken and I ordered grilled catfish and a glass of sweet tea. Both meals were seasoned and cooked to perfection. The prices were reasonable as well.


I kept expecting Idgy and Ruth to come strolling in the door.


After lunch I wandered around main street for a bit, but I knew Studly was eager to get his purchase home to see if it would run. I did buy a brand new Brighton bag, retail price $145 that I bought for ten dollars before we started home to Doright Manor. That was my Towanda moment. Here’s Kathy Bates with hers:

https://youtu.be/lx0z9FjxP-Y

Peace, people!

Parade of Celebrities 

My dreams have been chock full of celebrities lately. I suppose their nocturnal performances are subtle attempts by my psyche to heal itself during this soul-scarring election.

Last week Chris Hemsworth, in the guise of Thor, snuggled with me in dreamland: https://nananoyz5forme.com/2016/10/30/a-thor-in-my-side/


Since then, I’ve danced with James Franco at an Italian wedding. He approached me as I stood off to one side, gallantly bowing and asking me if I’d care to dance, and then twirled me about the marble dance floor as I giggled helplessly. 


The next night Michelle Obama appeared during a dream visit to the Lincoln Memorial and gave me a hug that filled me with happiness and peace. She wiped away my tears and told me we’d all be fine as Abraham Lincoln looked on.


Last night, Brad Pitt flirted with me at Central Perk while Jennifer Aniston served us coffee. We sat on a couch holding hands, discussing everything except Angelina and Donald Trump. I think we are going to build homes together in New Orleans one day soon.


I’m pretty proud of my subconscious during these days of angst. I should send it to a spa as a thank you. I might even tag along.

Peace, and sweet dreams, people.

Home Improvement

When we purchased our home over two years ago we knew eventually we’d want to do something about the front courtyard area. The previous owners, who’d built the home, paid a gardener to tend the two small plots on either side of the front walkway twice a month, but Studly and I weren’t crazy about taking on another bill. Actually I remember the conversation going something like:

Studly: We can’t afford both a gardener and a housekeeper.

Me: Cross off gardener. Check.

And that was the end of that story.

Except that we didn’t really think about the amount of yard work this courtyard area required. There was weeding and raking and digging and more weeding and since neither of us wanted to do any of that it just didn’t get done. Before too long Doright Manor’s entryway was overgrown and under utilized. 

I had the bright idea of having the area done in paving stones, but the estimate in the neighborhood of seven grand put a damper on that idea. Occasionally I’d go putter about trying to clean up all the unidentifiable growing things, but my efforts made it even uglier.

Finally Studly and I drew up a plan to do something simple and hopefully manageable with our courtyard. That was months ago, and we worked on it a little bit in the evenings and on weekends. 


We had to till everything up and cap off sprinklers.


Then we put down heavy duty matting and laid out some big stones before adding mulch.


We plan to add a decorative potting bench and container plants on this side.

Then on the opposite side we placed a little bench that I found at the French Country Flea Market on Friday. I fell in love with the butterfly shape. 


Now we need to personalize the courtyard with accents and plants for a more finished look. I’m not much of a decorator, so I know there will be a good deal of trial and error involved, but maybe this is something we can keep in good order without too much effort from a pair of non-gardeners. And I get to keep my housekeeper. 

Peace, people!

Political Flasher

On my way home from my part time job in Tallahassee yesterday I encountered a flasher. The older gentleman was standing on the median at a busy intersection. As my car drew even with him he held out his hand and surreptitiously flashed a Trump sticker. 

Let me tell you that took me by surprise. I was expecting something more classy, like a glimpse of his wrinkly genitals or a handful of illegal drugs. 

I smiled, rolled down my window and as he came toward me I said, “When hell freezes over,” and drove away. 

Okay, I realize that wasn’t the most ladylike response I could have made to his political flashing, but I figured it was a case of kit for kat. Meow. 🐱 

Peace, people!