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You Don’t Know Jack Schitt August 28, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Fun & Games, Humor, Joke, Word Play.
Tags: , , ,
21 comments

220px-Arthur-Pyle_The_Enchanter_MerlinAs a follow-up to yesterday’s post . . .

Most of us are at a loss when someone says, ‘You don’t know Jack Schitt!’

Now, you can set them straight:

Jack Schitt is the only son of Awe Schitt.

Awe Schitt, the fertilizer magnate, married O. Schitt, the owner of Needeep N. Schitt, Inc.

They had one son, Jack.

Jack Schitt married Noe Schitt.

The deeply religious couple produced six children: Holie Schitt, Giva Schitt, Fulla Schitt, Bull Schitt, and the twins Deep Schitt and Dip Schitt.

After being married 15 years, Jack and Noe Schitt divorced.

Noe Schitt later married Ted Sherlock, and because her kids were living with them, she wanted to keep her previous name.  She was then known as Noe Schitt Sherlock.

Chicken-Little-Poster

Against her parents’ objections, Deep Schitt married Dumb Schitt, a high school dropout.

Dip Schitt married Loda Schitt, and they produced a son with a rather nervous disposition named Chicken Schitt.

Two of the other six children, Fulla Schitt and Giva Schitt, were inseparable throughout childhood and later married the Happens brothers in a dual ceremony.  The wedding announcement in the newspaper announced the Schitt-Happens nuptials.

Bull Schitt, the prodigal son, left home to tour the world.  He returned from his travels with an Italian bride, Pisa Schitt, and three children: Dawg, Byrd, and Horse.

Holie Schitt, the most devout of the six Schitts, entered the priesthood.

Now when someone says, ‘You don’t know Jack Schitt,’ you can correct them.

This Geneology Record prepared by:  Crock O. Schitt

Aah . . . that’s better!

Source: e-mail from an unknown author.

An Exception To Every Rule August 26, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Fun & Games, Humor, Word Play.
Tags: , , ,
29 comments

Nothing ventured, nothing gained . . . but look before you leap.

Donald-Duck-Diving

The early bird gets the worm . . . but the early worm gets eaten.

Poisoned Apple

Good things come to those who wait . . . but he who hesitates is lost.

Donald-Ducka

Slow and steady wins the race . . . but good guys finish last.

devious-hobbes

Ignorance is bliss . . . but know thy enemies.

Broccoli-Mocking-Stewie

A rolling stone gathers no moss . . . but haste makes waste.

Pluto-RollerskatingHonesty is the best policy . . . but if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.

Hobbes

Absence makes the heart grow fonder . . . but out of sight, out of mind.

Snoopy

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush . . . but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Chicken-Little-Poster

Birds of a feather flock together . . . but opposites attract.

Tiggers-R-Us

Aah . . . that’s better!

Can you think of other perplexing anomalies to the proverbs we parrot?

Picking A Prickly Pineapple August 25, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Food & Drink, Fun & Games, Home & Garden, Humor.
Tags: , , , , ,
49 comments

In May, we noticed a pineapple growing in our courtyard:

By mid-July, it had quite a regal crown:

And then it stopped growing and started ripening.  So I picked it:

2014-08-21 11-30-14_0015

To give you a bit of perspective, here’s my best Carmen Miranda imitation:

2014-08-21 11-28-23_0012a_1

Growing pineapples is NOT a get-rich-quick scheme!

Aah . . . that’s better!

A Scottish Love Story August 23, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Fun & Games, Humor, Joke, People.
Tags: , , , ,
26 comments

220px-The_Love_of_Zero,_35mm_film_Robert_Florey1928A young Scottish lad and lass were sitting on a low stone wall, holding hands, gazing out over the loch.

For several minutes they sat silently.

Then the girl looked at the boy and said, “A penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin… perhaps it’s aboot time for a wee kiss.”

The girl blushed, leaned over, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

The two turned once again to gaze out over the loch.

Minutes passed and the girl spoke again. “Another penny for your thoughts, Angus?”

“Well, uh, I was thinkin’ perhaps it’s noo aboot time for a wee cuddle.”

The girl blushed, leaned over, and cuddled him for a few seconds.

228px-Eugene_de_Blaas_A_Pensive_MomentThe two turned again to the loch.

After a while, she whispered, “Another penny for your thoughts, Angus.”

The young man glanced down with a furled brow, “Well, noo, my thoughts are a wee bit more serious.”

“Really?” said the lass in a whisper.

“Aye,” said the lad, nodding.

The girl looked away and bit her lip in anticipation of the ultimate request.

Reaching out, he turned her face to his and said, “Dae ye nae think it’s aboot time ye paid me the first two pennies?”

Och . . . that’s a wee bit better!

Source: e-mail from an unknown author (sent by Granny1947)

An Unwanted Visitor August 22, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Exercise & Fitness, Health & Wellness, Humor.
Tags: , , , , ,
36 comments

I stepped outside to go for a walk and came face-to-face with a 4-foot-long black racer.

I retraced my steps and raced inside.

Pluto-RollerskatingExercise is over-rated.

 

Aah . . . that’s better!

The Best Is Yet To Come . . . August 21, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Gratitude, Happiness, Humor, Life Lessons, Mindfulness.
Tags: , , , ,
44 comments

IMGP1667aWe have a message board outside the clubhouse for announcements.

When there isn’t a 4-foot-long gator in one of the lakes or an upcoming social event looming on the horizon, the board is used to post inspirational sayings, trivia questions, etc.

* Kindness Echoes
* Who Shot J.R.?
* Shift Happens
* Which 2 vegetables are perennials?

Yesterday, the board announced:

THE BEST IS YET TO COME

Hmm . . . I’m not convinced.

“The best is yet to come” is one of those rather ridiculous “truisms” we intone with great regularity to remind ourselves to “keep on trucking.”

I don’t think it’s a true statement. Not for most of us, anyway.  At best, the best is yet to come for some of the people, some of the time.

Unless, maybe, it’s meant in the collective sense.

Calvin-gots-an-Idea

Once global warming and climate change and melting glaciers wipe man off the face of the planet, animals like the Black Rhino may breathe a sigh of relief:

Now, that’s good.  In fact, it’s the best!

God should NEVER have taken that extended sabbatical after Day 7.  He should have pushed through the burn straight into Day 8.

But that’s only in the collective sense.

On an individual basis, how many of us really believe that “the best is yet to come”?

Kids, sure ~ especially in the days leading up to Christmas.
Young adults, maybe ~ until the bills start rolling in faster than the paychecks.
New parents, of course ~ those little bundles of joy are full of promise.  A fresh canvas.  Another chance to “get it right.”

But what then?

The-Pink-Panther

Do we really believe that “the best is yet to come” AFTER we’ve ticked all the requisite boxes:

* Grow up
* Get married
* Have kids (or don’t)
* Enter the workforce
* Buy a house . . . with granite counter tops and double sinks!
* Get a gold watch
* Retire

IMGP3957

The idea of retirement keeps many of us moving forward.

But if retirement is “the best” . . . why do so many oldsters look over their shoulders to talk about “the good old days.”

For that matter, if we are convinced that the best is yet to come, why are we not giddy with anticipation, like Goofy, at the start of each new day?

Goofy-Riding-A-Bike

For most of us, life is like riding a roller coaster ~ we reach a pinnacle and then begin a slow descent (or steep terrifying drop) as we age.

As years flow from one to the next, we are forced to say good-bye to people and things we once loved.  In our golden years, after getting that gold watch, we experience aches and pains, difficulty sleeping, and creeping senility.

We no longer stare at the ceiling “too excited to sleep.”  We’re awake at 2 a.m. because insomnia has, once again, interfered with our steadfast desire for deep restorative sleep and peaceful slumber.

I am not persuaded that the best is yet to come.
I suspect that Robin Williams felt the same.

Grumpy gus

Or, perhaps, after struggling with insomnia, he just longed for oblivion.

Morpheus, Morpheus . . . where for are’t thou Morpheus?

The trick to moving forward to the “Finish Line” (rather than jumping ship or pulling the plug) lies in getting a good night’s sleep.  Every night.

Failing that, we increase the odds of enjoying ourselves for the duration of the cruise when we: (a) hang on to our sense of humor, (b) maintain perspective, (c) focus on the positives (like getting a good night’s sleep once in a Blue Moon), (d) eat lots of chocolate, and (e) convince ourselves that things don’t have to be “the best” in order to be “good enough.”

Collect enough drops of joy on a moment by moment basis and life is pretty good ~ even if we no longer feel like a kid in a candy shop who’s too excited to sleep because we’ve been brainwashed into believing the best is yet to come.

IMGP3950

Aah . . . that’s better!  (Stay tuned ~ the best is yet to come!)

Short Short Stories August 20, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Humor, Word Play, Writing & Writers.
Tags: , , , ,
38 comments

A local newspaper solicited short short stories (25 words or less) to run in the paper during the month of August.

At the end of the summer, one story will be chosen as “the winner” and its author will receive a culinary prize from . . . The Lazy Lobster.

I like lobster.  Even lazy lobsters, which are easier to catch.  I also enjoy playing with words, so I submitted a few short shorts:

The Best Thing About Getting Older

Audrey watched her 97-year-old neighbor sail by on a bike: “You’re such an inspiration, Vivian. What’s the best thing about getting older?”

“No peer pressure.”

Goofy-Riding-A-Bike

[We have a 96-year-old neighbor who still rides his bike and NEVER worries about peer pressure.]

Killing Time

Sophia hated waiting.
Killing time.

A woman in purple scrubs passed by, “Sorry, Sophia. Your chemo will start soon.”

Great. More time to kill . . .

Woodstock-&-Snoopy3

[Fiction.  Through and through.  The only Sophia I know is NOT undergoing chemo.  Which is good since she's only 9.]

Busted

Busted light. Sparks flew. Son professed innocence. Mom’s cross-examination shed light. Son came clean.

“I might have hit the hot bulb with a wet towel.”

Zombies

[Fiction.  Sort of.  Borrowed from an anecdote Janna shared with me.]

Where’s the ESC Key?

Memories erased, a hard drive malfunction. A lifetime abased, software keeps crumbling. Circuits and synapses fried, no longer firing. Fumbling thoughts stumble, a graceless nosedive.

Little-Miss-Scatterbrain

[Prompted by watching "creeping senility."  No, not mine!  My parents.]

Following Our Gut Instincts

Ralph leaned over his bike’s handlebars, revealing serious belly bulge.  John pointed, “That’s not a 6-pack . . . it’s a keg!

Ralph laughed, “I’m following my gut!”

Not Ralph

Not Ralph

[Prompted by seeing a guy in tight biker shorts with no shirt.]

Pretty Swift, eh?

Category: 19th Century Authors.

“Jonathan Swift.”
“What?”
“Final Jeopardy answer.”
“Alex hasn’t revealed the clue.”
“I know.”

Cue clue. Contestants stumped.

Answer announced: Jonathan Swift!

abstract-green-n-blue

[True story.  Just one of the amazing Winks, Whispers, and Nudges I've experienced from the Universal Matrix/Web.]

A Secret Made For Sharing

Mom hid dad’s birthday cake. “It’s a secret.” Jamie nodded. Seeing dad, the cork popped and 2-year-old Jamie squealed, “Cake in ‘ere! Cake in ‘ere!”

IMGP1762c

[True story.  For 2-year-old, birthday cake is too exciting to keep secret.]

How Do You Do That?

My husband waved an opaque bag, “Guess what I bought!”
The answer drifted in . . . “PEZ dispensers.”

“How do you do that?!”
“Sometimes I just know.”

Tree-Frog-Percheda

[True story.  Sometimes I just know.  And it always freaks BFF out.]

He’s Five. I’m Three. Do the Math!

Terrified by my older brother’s taunts, I screamed for back-up.  “M~O~M!!! Jamie’s gonna hit me!”

Mom (a clueless only child) replied, “Well, hit him back.”

daffy_duck_boxing

[I am NOT a tattle tale!  Or a cry baby.  Stop saying that . . . or I'm gonna hit you!  And don't go running to mom.  She won't do anything anyway.]

Stay

“Stop rocking the boat!”
“Learn to sway.”
“No. I’m leaving. Today.”
“Where to?”
“Can’t say.”
“Then stay.”
“No way.”
“Come back.”
“I may . . . one day.”

Chinaman-fishing

[Fiction.  Just playing with rhyme time.]

Falling on Deaf Ears

As the Merry-Go-Round slowed to a stop, my 3-year-old niece kicked her wooden carousel horse to urge it forward. “Don’t Stop, Horsie! Don’t Stop!”

Hand-moving-chess-piece

[True story.  The niece in question is now 21 and knows that kicking wooden horses will not make them speed up.]

Aah . . . that’s better!

Sometimes It’s Hard To “Come Clean” August 18, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Humor, Life Lessons, Mindfulness, People.
Tags: , , , ,
49 comments

Have you ever overheard someone recount an event (of which you have first hand knowledge) by shading the truth, more than a little, to place themselves in a better light?

Claiming the role of blameless victim to a vicious attack, rather than recognizing their role as instigator or co-participant?

Maybe it’s the attorney in me, but when someone shares a sob story that sounds one-sided, lopsided, or far-fetched, I do not offer blind support.

I ask a few questions first, to ascertain whether the story is factual or fictional.

Once upon a time, we cautioned our young niece not to provoke our cat or she would get scratched.

Ignoring the warning, she backed Jazz into a corner and reached out to grab him.

He scratched her.

Eyes brimming with tears, she exclaimed, “Jazz scratched me!”

We examined the scratch ~ a glancing blow issued as a “step away from the cat” warning.

“What were you doing when he scratched you?”

“Nothing.”

“You were just sitting there, minding your own business, and Jazz ran up to you and scratched you for no reason?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really?  You weren’t trying to pick him up?  Or pet him? Or follow him around?  You were just sitting still and he ran over to you?”

Hesitation.

“Well . . . he was under the table, and I just wanted to pet him, and when I got close to him, he scratched me.  But I wasn’t going to hurt him!  I didn’t mean to bother him.  I just wanted to pet him.”

{{Hugs}}

James-the-CatSometimes it’s hard to “come clean” and see our part in the controversy.

Our Egos don’t want to admit the part we played in escalating situations from peaceful co-existence to hissing, scratching, tail-pulling, or worse.

But it’s worth it when we do.

Aah . . . that’s better!

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Related posts:  Is Your Soul Yearning For Less Drama (Find Your Middle Ground) * You Can’t Handle The Truth

 

 

The Hospital Bill August 16, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Fun & Games, Health & Wellness, Humor, Joke.
Tags: , , ,
23 comments

170px-Italienischer_Maler_des_17._Jahrhunderts_001A man suffered a serious heart attack while shopping in a store.

The store clerks called an ambulance when they saw him collapse to the floor.

The paramedics rushed the man to the nearest hospital where he had emergency open heart bypass surgery.

He awakened from the surgery to find himself in the care of nuns at the Catholic Hospital.

A nun was seated next to his bed holding a clipboard loaded with several forms.

Seeing he was awake, she asked him how he was going to pay for his treatment.

Groggy, he replied, “I don’t know.”

“Do you have health insurance?”

“No.  No health insurance.”

170px-Creation_of_the_Sun_and_Moon_face_detail

“Do you have money in the bank?”

“No.  No money in the bank.”

“Do you have a relative who could help you with the payments?”

“I have a spinster sister.  She’s a nun.”

At this, the nun became agitated.

With practiced authority, she announced, “Nuns are not spinsters! Nuns are married to God.”

The patient nodded, “Great!  Send the bill to my brother-in-law.”

Aah . . . that’s better!

Source:  e-mail from unknown author (sent by Granny1947)

The Keyboard Awaits August 15, 2014

Posted by nrhatch in Happiness, Humor, Word Play, Writing & Writers.
Tags: , , , ,
45 comments

170px-alice_par_john_tenniel_30What will it be today?

Fiction, Non-Fiction, Novel, Short Story, Essay, Poetry, Humorous Anecdote, Serious Reflection.

The vehicles available to transport our words to the world are as varied as the topics addressed in our musings.

Like a single strand of DNA, reordering the 26 letters at our disposal expands our universe from finite to infinite.

Writing allows us to play with permutations, switch perspectives, and view life through different vantage points and keyholes.

The freedom of orchestrating our thoughts liberates us from the constraining influence of public opinion and even from our own limiting beliefs.

Alone with our thoughts, we step into solitude to carve order out of chaos.  As we edit, we add, delete, expand, contract, and reorder our thoughts until we are satisfied that we said what we meant, and we meant what we said.

220px-PinocchioIf we feel inhibited about sharing our unfiltered thoughts with an audience, we can create a fictional character to act as proxy or puppet.

And we hold the strings.

Everything we taste in life adds to our arsenal, our tool bag of tricks.

The world expands and we expand with it, noticing nuances and using experiences to entertain, persuade, educate, amuse, and spur others to action.

When we share our adventures, readers are inspired to expand their horizons.

The downside to this pleasant pastime of playing with words is that writing is a rabbit-hole.  An endless warren of thought threads distracts me from tackling more mundane tasks.  

Even those essential to survival like eating. And sleeping.

170px-Alice_par_John_Tenniel_02In the Write Zone, the world is put on hold ~ I’ll get to IT (whatever IT is) later.  Or Tomorrow.

Next Tuesday at the latest.

I wonder if I lose track of time because I’m just writing for the fun of it?

At present, I’m not driven by thoughts of fame, fortune, or eventual publication.  I don’t care about “having written” or “making a name for myself” or any other external indicator of success.

For me, it’s the journey of writing that holds appeal.  I just want to be happy as the path unfolds before me.  And writing is the best means I’ve found to that end.

Other than chocolate, of course.

Aah . . . that’s better!

Related Posts:  Writing and Writers * The Four Horsemen of Writer’s Block & How to Defeat Them  (Raptitude) * 7 Writing Tips From Real Writers

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