Thursday, March 31, 2011

He SHOULD BE Depressed

He does look a bit under the weather, I have to admit ... 

I'd offer to help this guy, but honestly, with sideburns so long and fluffy; a combover; an overgrown and overly full mustache; and an ugly, bulky, shoulder-padded dark-gray wrinkled overcoat, he should be depressed. Get this man a stylist! Stat!

Monday, March 28, 2011

Hudson River Views. Wait. No. That's Mauritius!

Outside my window, the Hudson River is rather dark, non-blue, and murky (possibly from the decomposing bodies in there, human and animal). 

The Hudson River doesn't quite compare to the waters surrounding Mauritius, 900 km to the east of Madagascar, off to the east of Africa.

Could someone send me a pre-paid plane ticket to Mauritius? I have heard it is the only way to fully recuperate from the stomach flu. At least that's what I heard.

Friday, March 25, 2011

My Green Skin

Do not under any circumstances get this year's stomach flu. DO NOT. No, no, no. NO! You have been warned. Three to five days of pure hell.

That picture? Nope, that's not me. I'm greener.

Please stay well, everyone!

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Irish Sure Have a Way with Words

May those who love us love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles,
So we'll know them by their limping.

No butter be on your milk nor on your ducks a web
May your child not walk and your cow be flayed
And may the flame be bigger and wider
Which will go through your soul
Than the Connemara mountains
If they were on fire

May you be afflicted with the itch and have no nails to scratch with!

Ah, the Irish. They sure have a way with words.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Good Stuff's Inside

Catnip, anyone? (from Frankie's stash)

Saturday, March 19, 2011


Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Rigatoni and the Faeries Aire

I sat down to play something on the piano this morning, and I chose one of the less difficult pieces I have available. The sheet music was hidden away in my piano bench, along with very simple things like Beatles pieces and "Take Me Out to the Ball Game."

I just breezed through this one, though when I came to the instruction "Rigatoni" halfway through the first page, I must admit I was unsure whether to speed things up or slow things down. I'm just plain unfamiliar with the "Rigatoni" notation.

If only I could play this wonderful piece for you here. You'll just have to imagine the beauty of it all and how incredibly well I play it.

Music notation for babies and wimps.

Friday, March 11, 2011

No DisneyWorld for Mrs. Brown

Even in her final days, Mrs. Brown could not find anyone to cut her a break. No DisneyWorld for her.

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Beer and Hot Dog Gum

Here's a non-yummy food item for you (if one can consider this food):

Imagine you're at Yankees Stadium cheering on your favorite team and you think "How can I participate wholeheartedly in this game without (a) going on the field and getting arrested or (b) getting drunk on beer and committing a DUI on the way back to Brooklyn?" You know what you can do? You can chew Hot Dog Gum! Or Peanut Gum! And forget about the real beer! Instead, chew Beer Gum!


Get it here:

Monday, March 07, 2011

Bacon for Your Boo-Boos

Come and get 'em. Bacon bandages.

The Fred Flare site has an entire bandage collection for your future boo-boos:

I can only hope that scrambled egg bandages will not be far behind.

Sunday, March 06, 2011

I Long for Dead Fish in Plastic Wrappers ...

Here's a snack. Yum. Not.
I went recently to one of the Korean markets in town, and of the 14 long aisles in the store, 1 has food with recognizable labels. Some food with recognizable labels. Most of the labels have no image to help one figure out what's in the can, and the lettering is entirely written in Korean.

In an aisle containing peanut butter, no Skippy Super Chunk, no Skippy Creamy Peanut Butter, no Skippy anything could be found. No Peter Pan or Jiff. Off brands ruled. I was devastated. I bought some honey, but it might be thickened gluey pee, I don't know. I'm GUESSING it is honey. There was no Half 'n Half, no cream, no yogurt. There WAS milk, but none of it was 1%, 2%, or skim. It was milk. Period.
Unidentifiable Korean beverage. I'd like a diet Dr. Pepper please.
There were aisles containing barrels of what could have been fish. These fish didn't have tails, scales, or even eyes in some cases. So scarey. And the barrels were not covered--the fish just resided within. I rushed off those aisles, fearing a fish might jump out at me.
Fish, I thnk. Maybe.

 Of possibly 200 people in the supermarket, I was one of three Americans. When we three saw each other, we ran toward each other with open arms, and spoke with great warmth, though we were strangers. I wanted to hug this unknown couple right there in aisle 3 and invite them to dinner. They told me they didn't recognize any of the foods and felt lost and alone. I appeared as an oasis in a vast dry desert. From my inner being, I felt truly loved and I loved these people in return.
More fish, possibly.

In all, I bought honey, unidentifiable milk, a possible can of tuna fish (won't know for certain until I open it), peanut butter (surely not Skippy), Splenda and Special K (they sell Splenda and Special K, go figure). I did not buy fresh "fish" from the barrels. Or meat, at $16.49/lb.

Oh how I long for the former days of identifiable food products. I long for English lettering on food cans. I long for 2% milk and Skippy peanut butter. I long for beef at $3.49/lb. I long for food that I recognize. I long for dead fish in plastic wrappers. Where is my dead fish in plastic wrappers?

Friday, March 04, 2011

Thirteen Words That Might Change the World

I purchased a birthday card for one of my friends today.

The birthday card I chose had six words on the front, seven words on the inside, and was wrapped in plastic.  There was no special picture, drawing, or anything else but a little bit of pink on the first page and a total of 13 words.

That must have been an important author who wrote the words in this plain greeting card--say, Jane Austin, Lord Byron, or Ernest Hemingway, someone who needed to rise from his or her grave to compose this message. The card and the 13 words cost $6.99; with local/state tax, approx. $7.49. I hope you understand, this was a greeting card I purchased, not a paperback novel.

I hope my friend likes the card. I really, really do. I hope it is the best card she and her family have ever seen. I hope her kids are inspired and decide to become an important author like Austen, Byron, or Hemingway. I hope it brings tears to my friend's mother's eyes, and makes her husband love her even more. I hope all this, 'cause for $7.49 for a small piece of folded paper and 13 words, it is the least I can expect.