Tag: humor

Silly Wishes

I wish…

I could order a haircut from Amazon.com the way I order books. One click and I’d 

Receive the perfect style to frame my face and suit my life. No hassle and free 

Shipping. And while I’m at it, I wish that weight loss was as easy as weight gain. 

Want a piece of key lime pound cake? No problem. Merely chewing with good 

Intentions will result in counteracting any calories consumed. If I’m greedy, I also 

Wish that Donald Trump would publicly admit he hasn’t a clue about being 

President. And just for good measure, his supporters would understand that’s a 

Negative.

Call Me Delusional

I’m constantly amazed that I’m not incredibly hot. 

  
If it weren’t for mirrors I could remain oblivious.

  
At least I’m talented…

  
And compassionate.

  

How Short Is It?

My new haircut is so short…

…that it was completely dry before I stepped out of the shower.

…that the North Carolina potty police would eye me suspiciously were I to use the loo there.

…that polite children under the age of five will call me “sir.”

…that Dumbo is jealous of my ear size.

…that I’m thankful for my DD breasts.

…that having a cuter face would be nice.

…that I like it, while at the same time it needs to grow a bit before I love it.

  
No makeup, just me. Look at those freckles!!! Where’s my medal for bravery?

Peace, people.

Birdsong Expert

Listening to the forest come to life is educational, and now my interest is beyond recreational.

I’ve become quite an expert in identifying birds by the sounds of their trills, now to put it in words.

There are the “Birdy Birdy” birds ’cause that’s what they say and the “Cheery Cheery” birds beckoning play.

One I’ve dubbed “Whistler’s Mum” for its lilting melodies, and another the “Car Alarm.” So annoying. Stop please!

“Dog Call” is the perfect name for one feathered friend, while “Scolder” seems anxious to point out my sins.

One poses a question, I call it, “Say What?” Just one tree over “Look at Me”
thinks he’s so hot.

Surely the experts on nature will soon call to consult me in matters of bird life, et. al.

  
Peace people!

What Do They Know That I Don’t?

There’s a trip to Disney World in my near future. I’m meeting my niece CB and her family in Orlando to join in on their fun for a couple of days. 

No matter how old and decrepit I get, Disney World will always be one of my favorite places on earth. When I’m too ancient to walk I hope they’ll just wheel me around the parks like a load of ripe cabbages. 

I’ve been to the Magic Kingdom and its satellite parks on more than one occasion, and the one thing I have yet to perfect is the carrying of money/tickets/lip gloss/sunscreen, etc. I need something that will allow me to stow all of the above without impeding my ability to spiral upside down multiple times on Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster.

Someone suggested a fanny pack, that ridiculously non-glamorous fashion faux pas from the 80’s. So being the rabid fashionista I am, I immediately googled “cute fanny packs.” Surprisingly, there are some nifty designs, but this suggestion also came up in my search:

  
Attends? Really? Do they know something I don’t? Just in case, I sense a shopping trip in my future.

 Peace and continence, people.

 

Bragging Rights

  
Bragging Rights:

Shampoo empty. Check.

Conditioner empty. Check.

Same day. 

Same time.

Boom!

Frog Talk And Wonder Woman

Studly Doright is still snoring. I’m sitting on the screened in porch, sipping my coffee and waiting for the sun to rise. It’ll be at least another half hour before the lake gets any rays, and the darkness is deep. I wouldn’t venture out past the back door just yet; although, I imagine Wonder Woman wouldn’t be afraid of the dark.

The frogs are busy. They don’t croak. They click and clack and chirp. Some sound like those pendulum desk toys with metal balls bouncing off one another faster and faster, louder and louder, until they suddenly cease as if a large hand has intervened in the laws of physics.

When the amphibians’ chatter ends, birds begin tentatively singing their morning songs. Some contribute lilting melodies while others sound vaguely like annoying car alarms. Where is the giant’s hand?

The sky has begun to lighten and the squirrels are dancing in the dry leaves as my cat Patches attends to their every move. I imagine in her dreams she chases them down and gives them a good scolding. 

  
I really don’t want to move from this spot, but even Wonder Woman has work to do.

  
Peace, and good morning, people!

Wine Talking

Is wine the culprit
for the mistakes made tonight,
or for my regrets?

Only I claim fault
for my words, unrepentant;
no pinot to blame.

But the warmth inside
ameliorates the guilt
soothes me off my feet.

  

Decorating on the Run

dinosaur attacks
relatively infrequent
panic inducing

  

Hanging around at Tallahassee Nurseries on Tuesday I ran into this fellow.   

And these folks.  
So, do I want to decorate my garden courtyard in early prehistoric or timeless religion?