Tag Archives: humor

Just in time for Christmas!

 

Never let it be said I don’t help my friends.

Do you have one of those hard to buy for people on your shopping list?

You know…. that one person you struggle with every year because they already have everything?

Well, I can almost guarantee you they don’t have any of these.

 

 

 

Yes.

Those are gifts made with moose poo.

 

 

Well, Mainers love to recycle.

 

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As well as sell tourists lots of useless crap they don’t need.

 

 

I can’t really answer that.

But if you need a floating moose turd key chain, I can probably hook you up.

 

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You can’t make this stuff up.

No, I’m not kidding.

You’re welcome.

😎

Diet is a four letter word.

 

I used to be one of those blissfully happy women who never worried about their weight.

I’ve never been rail thin mind you, but I was a fit child, a coltish pre teen, a slim teenager and a curves in the right places adult. I wore whatever was in fashion and if I don’t mind saying so…. rocked it.

Then I turned 30 and gained 10 pounds. No biggie, I’m short but I could carry it.

 

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I turned 40 and gained another 10 pounds.  Hmm… had to rethink those crop tops and short skirts, but okay.

 

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When I turned 50? Only 5 more pounds… I figured I’d reached my leveling off point.

 

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Then…. after a medical issue made a full abdominal hysterectomy necessary and I was thrown into menopause? I gained another 15 pounds. That put me in the “Hooray! Long loose tops are back in style and where do I find that Jane Russell 18 hour bra?” category.

WTF? My body was in revolt. Food was no longer my friend!

I dieted,  I cursed my womanly existence, I exercised, I swore like a longshoreman,  I drank the equivalent of friggin’ Lake Erie in water every day and nothing happened. I tried low fat, low carb, I gave up every delicious thing I could think of (except alcohol because… well, geesh. I had to have a reason to live.) But still the weight didn’t come off.

To be honest it drove me nearly crazy for 2 years until I said …..

 

 

Life is too short to never eat bread. And cheese. And every other wonderfully fatty high calorie thing I’d been denying myself. (Come to momma cappuccino mousse trifle… I’ve missed you!)  If my body wanted to be  round,  voluptuous,  larger than it was, then who was I to argue.

So I bought bigger pants. Hell, I have bunions and had to buy bigger shoes, so what…. it was another excuse to shop.

 

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Yes, I miss thin. Not everyday mind you  (thank you yoga pants!)  but when I have an event like a wedding, or funeral, or horror of horrors… a class reunion where there are people I haven’t seen in 20 years?  It drives me to drink.  No, I won’t be unrecognizable from my former self, but I’m always conscious of the difference. And women are famous for beating themselves up about that. Men embrace their beer bellies and proudly pat them. Women try and squeeze their muffin tops into torture devices called Spanx.

Oh, well… such is life.  It took me a while, but I’ve learned to embrace the larger version of myself. I may not always love her, but I’m healthy and happy…. and in the end, isn’t that much more important than squeezing into a smaller size?

 

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And exercise? Okay, you got me.

It was never my strong suit.

 

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It’s Twilight Zone time….

 

There’s been some weird stuff happening at Casa River lately and I think it needs to be shared….  if only to prove I’m not crazy.

 

 

First it was the weird giant watermelon slice that threatened to swallow my husband whole while he was working on the garage.

 

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I know what you’re thinking… a reflection of sunlight.

Okay, maybe.

But then there’s the bird bath.

 

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I dutifully wash and fill it with fresh water every other day.  (Hey, did you see the birds on those lines? I’m not taking any chances.)

But lately…

 

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Someone… (or something) …. is peeing in my bird bath.

 

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Okay, it’s a bath. For birds. And when birds hit water? Yes, they poo… that’s a given.

But in the 17 years I’ve been caring for this one, no one has ever peed in it. Now? It’s happening every day.

 

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And if you’re thinking you can explain it with some out of season tree pollen or a sneaky garden gnome with a dye packet…. then take a crack at this one:

Ghost hands.

 

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I’d finished painting the new garage door, and since I always wear as much as whatever I’m painting…. ( I do. I really do. You can look at my work clothes on any given day, point  and say Porch. Deck. Barn. Shutters etc. It’s pathetic but true. Come to think of it, maybe that’s not grey in my hair after all but leftover paint! Yes. I’m going with that.) …. when I was done I thought I’d take a picture and post something funny on FB.

But every picture I took?

All 10 of them?

 

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Had that eerie ghostly outline.

No other pictures, no moisture on the lens, just my hands.

Explain that!

 

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Oh, stuff it Rod.

No one asked you.

 

A Suc-It update….

 

 

Because you know you want one.

Remember my blog about that product with the delightfully tacky name?

Best or worse? You decide…

 

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Well, it seems the inventor saw it and left a comment –

Erik

Hey so i actually invented the suc -it. It’s a great product for being hands free. Taking selfies is way easier, family photos, gps on a car and the uses go on and on. With the name comes uncharted waters I get it lol. It’s a universal silicone band that is a suction cup. It fits on to pretty much every phone . In the big picture it’s a pop socket on steroids and I apprecIate all the comments . Feedback is huge. Hope you all use one one day it’s really a great accessory

 

  • How fun is that?

    And apparently he feels very strongly about his brain child because…
Erik

We would love to send you one free of charge and have you use it . Would that work ?

Not particularly interested, I replied –
  • rivergirl1211

    rivergirl1211

    Well, if I’ve gone this long without having to Suc-It…. I think I’m good. But thanks for the offer!

Of course he’s a persistent guy…

 

  • Erik

    Erik

    Hey listen I appreciate the hustle you show and I admire everyone’s opinions . Ima bit flattered lol. I still want to send you two free of charge and have you use it and then give even more feedback on how great of a gadget it really is

So I thought…. maybe I really do need to Suc-It.

 

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Okay, so now he’s speaking my language.

And then the inventor emailed me.

 

 

Clearly this guy feels passionately about me Suc-ing It.

And free is free, right?

Heck, if grandma can Suc It….

 

 

 

 

Then I should be able to as well.

So what do you think?

Should I Suc-It?

 

P.S. – For some reason the video of Grandma Suc-ing It doesn’t show up on the reader version of this post. Visit my site page for the full experience.

 

I know you’re out there Alfred….

 

 

I woke up the other morning to an eerie fog covered world.

And an even eerier bird covered telephone line.

 

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They were gathering.

 

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Quietly.

Too quietly.

And I thought,

 

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Did I forget to fill the bird feeders?

Was the bird bath empty?

Were they here for revenge?

 

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And then I saw that one.

There… on the left.

WTH?

 

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It looked like a lobster..  and I knew I was doomed.

I couldn’t sedate it, I haven’t smoked weed since 1983!

 

 

So I did what any self respecting Alfred Hitchcock fan would do.

I hid in the house until they dispersed.

 

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And put bird seed on my shopping list because I’m not taking any chances.

 

 

 

And P.S….

Did you know there’s a Bird’s Halloween costume?

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I might just need one of those to go grocery shopping.

Are we doing this now?

 

 

As I was thrift store shopping with a friend this week, I ran cross an item that shouldn’t surprise me.

 

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Because yes, we probably have become this lazy.

Now granted, we all have our moments.

 

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But if the day comes when it requires too much effort to hold your own phone?

Please…

 

 

P.S.  It should be noted that when I first saw read the box I thought…

#1.  It was made by a brand named Absurdo… which seemed entirely plausible.

And

#2.   That it would only rotate your neck if your neck was soft…. and I wondered what kind of neck I had, why I needed product assistance to rotate it, would said rotation hurt, did it come in different sizes for different sized necks like football players and giraffes, and how I would go about finding out.

Because sometimes, my mind just goes to odd places and I can’t get it back.

Yes, this is really happening.

 

 

Not much makes me do a double take these days. In case you haven’t noticed?

People be crazy.

But this local story was worth a second look.

Giving new meaning to the term baked lobster.

Yes, there is a woman in Maine who owns a restaurant.

Yes, she serves lobster.

And yes, she has decided to get them high before cooking them to alleviate their pain.

 

 

Indeed.

You can now request your lobster to be sedated with pot before he goes in the…. well,

Pot.

 

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I’m told the cooked lobster tastes better after the smoking, but then again…. doesn’t everything?

 

 

So in closing, may I just say….

#1.   It’s official, I’ve now seen everything.

And #2.  Speaking from the vast experience of an extremely misspent youth, there is no amount of weed, no matter how potent… that will lessen the effect of being thrown into a vat of boiling water.

(And if you can prove me wrong on that one, please PM me immediately.)

The blogging life.

 

I had lunch with a friend the other day and we were in the middle of an epic catch up session when I mentioned I’d found a new blog site and was really enjoying it.

Me –  “It’s a large platform with lots of amazing writers.”

Her –  “Blogging?  Yeah… I’ve never understood the appeal.”

Me –

 

       

 

Her –  “It seems so totally self absorbed. I mean, what do you blog about?”

Me –   *sputtering*  *turning red*

“Life!”

( I may have screamed. I’m not sure.)

But it got me thinking, what do I blog about? Right now, it’s whatever nonsense is floating around in my head and needs to get out. That long fuzz covered blue thingy in the back of the fridge that may or may not have started life as a pickle? Sure! The old lady at Goodwill who had a vibrator in her cart because she thought it was a portable hand blender? Absolutely! But it wasn’t always that way.

No… back in the early days of Yahoo 360 and Multiply, it was personal.  I ranted about family, and relationships, and mother in laws from Hell. I had a small community of close friends who knew (almost) everything that was happening in my life. And then I got burned. I was posting about a particularly horrid SIL… okay, I may have called her  a hag. But she was. And still is. And crikey… she wasn’t supposed to be reading it! But she did and ….

 

 

Yeah, the proverbial excrement hit the rotating blade.

See…. I’ve always kept my blogging life and real life separate. The husband is an uber-private person and hates it if I tell my best friend anything… no less people on line that we’ve never actually met. So what did the hag do? She found my online blog presence, read every single post I’d ever made and left a seriously hateful comment on the last one. (At 3:30 in the morning no less. Clearly it was a riveting read.) And no… we haven’t spoken since. That was 8 years ago.

So I shut it down. No more public access, no more personal details.

And then it became a “thing” in our marriage. You know,  the “things”.  Those topics that no matter how many years you spend together, they’ll always cause friction. I mean geesh, I wasn’t spilling racy secrets from the bedroom….. and I won’t no matter how much you beg me.  (You’re welcome.) …. I was joking about the crap he accumulates in the cellar! Where’s the harm in that? But I got tired of the snide, “Oh, I suppose you’re going to blog about that now” comments every time something happened, so after my first site died a slow death?  I told him I was done blogging.

But I wasn’t.

So yes…. you lot are my guilty, secret pleasure. (How pathetic is that? Nothing dark and twisted, just you. Sigh…)

 

 

There, I said it.

I blog on the down low. And I keep it light… because for me, it’s always been about entertainment. I know there are a lot of inspirational blogs about overcoming hardships, heartfelt blogs about love and loss, fashion blogs, cooking blogs, gardening blogs…. and I enjoy them all. Even the occasional blog about running. (Do you have any idea how many of them there are? What’s wrong with people? Don’t they own comfortable chairs…?)  I mean… I’m diverse damn it! I can read about other people running even if I personally feel like  –

 

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That’s the wonderful thing about blogging! It’s unique to each and every person who does it…. and if you’re lucky enough to find bloggers of similar interests and styles?  Who laugh with you.. and occasionally at you?

You’ve found your tribe.

For me, they’re usually snarky, smart mouthed, fringe dwellers who are just a little bit bent. Because… well, I’ve been told I’m a little hard to take.

 

 

Shocking, I know.

But my husband has always felt the need to warn his co workers about me before we meet, so there must be something to it. I may look sweet, but my mouth does tend to get me in trouble when it gets going. And if I’m feeling comfortable enough around you to let the crazy out?

 

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You’re my people.

😎

My toilet should not smell like coconuts.

 

Now before all you coconut lovers start espousing the 3,567 health benefits of coconut oil….

 

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Let me explain. I love me some coconut….

I love the pie.

 

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I love the alcohol.

 

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I love the thought of chillin’ on a tropical beach…

 

 

I mean hell, who doesn’t?

 

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But on the throne? I don’t need to be thinking about….

 

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Which is where my mind went after I purchased this:

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See the coconuts?

Well, I didn’t. Which is another reason why I need to sling my readers around my neck when I shop.

Clean toilets should not smell like coconut.

Period. End of discussion.

I’m there to take care of business, not daydream about suntan lotion and lounging by the pool….

 

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Although with my luck, it would end up like…

 

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And let’s not forget about the dangers.

Coconuts can be lethal!

 

 

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The last thing I want to think about on the toilet is a random coconut falling on my head and dying with my drawers around my ankles.

So stop with the tropical fragrances Clorox, and go back to that eye watering, stomach churning chemical smell we all know and hate.

Give a girl a break.

Is WordPress hangry?

 

And if not…. why does it keep eating my comments?

So I’m happily cruising blogs, leaving killer comments, thinking…

“Ya, I really slayed that one.”

Only to go back a while later   wondering why no one has complimented me on my razor sharp witcursing the blog owner for ignoring me ,  to read other comments and find that mine has disappeared.

 

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So, I leave the same killer comment again.

Making sure it stuck this time…

 

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Sorry, my mind went there.

And if I check a third time? Yeah… the comment is still A.W.O.L.

 

 

There are only 3 possible explanations.

  1.   The blog owner doesn’t think I’m clever and deleted it. (No, that can’t be it.  I’m delightful, damn it!)
  2.   I was dreaming and/or ghost typing in my sleep.  (Possible, but not likely. Although I did sleep walk as a child and apparently watched an entire Vincent Price movie without waking up… which is really the only way to enjoy The Tingler.)

Yes, that’s a real movie.

Don’t believe me?

 

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You can thank me for the nightmares later.

And finally,  reason #3.  WordPress is hangry…. or just plain screwing with the newbie.

Which is the reason I’m leaning toward because… every once in a while?  My comment will post 4 times making me look desperate for attention. (Which I’m not, really…. no matter how many times I hang out my window and yell, “Hey sailor!”)

So, WordPress?

Cut it out.

The newbie is not amused.