Foolery

Bad Spanish, Bad German, Bad French, Bad English, and Some Ubbi Dubbi Gibberish

The following two-way barrage of text messages took place Thanksgiving morning, while Foolery was still abed and groggy . . . but over at our parents' house across the street, little brother Bocci was bright-eyed and  pushy  bushy-tailed and ready to cook (more). Note Bocci's fascinating -- and, regrettably, effective -- tactic of personal request of a favor followed closely by blistering insults followed by more requests.

Bocci: Hello!!! Bringensi the chickenstockensi whensi comeoverensi

(Original graphic used by permission from Wikimedia Commons)

Foolery: How muchensi chickenshtock?

Bocci: Mucha muchacha...seis, ocho?


(Original graphic used by permission from Wikimedia Commons)

Foolery: Jeebus, what would you do mittout zee Beeg Seestah?

Bocci: Youba saidba datba youba haba lotba


(Image stolen from this site)

Bocci: Whyba awfferba thanna bitcha laterba?

Foolery: Youba suck...ba.  : )  Not bitching, just reminding you how lucky you is to have a crack sous chef like moi. Who's up?


(Original graphic used by permission from Wikimedia Commons)

Bocci: Alllll up. And I slept 8 hours! Watch out!

Bocci: Crack is a good word for you

Bocci: Tienes manzanas?

Bocci: Or an orange?

Foolery: Text whore.

I think I brought him about 14 cans of chicken schtock, no apples, no oranges, and plenty of insults all day long. It was a good day.

(Image stolen from these guys)

Happy Throgsgrafen and Good Luck at Baggage Claim

This is one of the luggage sculptures at the Sacramento Airport's baggage claim. I don't think it's supposed to depress people, but how could a looming pile of unclaimed luggage NOT depress travelers who are stuck standing around watching other peoples' suitcases ride the merry-go-round?

Today. Today I am working . . . well, I am at work anyway . . . until noon, when I will brave S&S Produce crowds for $3.00 chocolate bars and Rice Dream milk-like substance and Martinelli's sparkling cider and what else? Oh yeah, cilantro.

Yesterday I joined the throngs of grim-faced shoppers at Costco in search of six dozen eggs and a bag of pecans. $228 later Smedley and I were disgorged into the packed parking lot and plummeting temperatures with our booty, which included, among other things, a take-and-bake pizza for dinner. So much for healthy food leading up to the Big Feast.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is the Big Feast, known to most people as Thanksgiving and to John Irving fans as Throgsgrafen. I celebrate Throgsgrafen. I will make the traditional Throgsgrafen guacamole, throw back an ale and an embarrassment of red wine, listen to the annual spinning of "The Alice's Restaurant Massacree," and possibly remember to celebrate Chas's birthday. Or not.

Happy Throgsgrafen to all, and to all a good digestion!

Hanging Out with Yoyos

Sunday night we went to the annual Downtown Christmas Preview in Chico. Of course my camera batteries were still dead and I had completely forgotten to change them, so I took only one photo, and it was with my phone.

Here we are at one of the cooler gift stores ever, Bird In Hand, in the back of the store, where they have a yoyo museum. Seriously. These people are VERY serious about yoyos. I, on the other hand, can't even touch a yoyo without hopelessly tangling the string. This is one really big yoyo, with Smedley on the left . . . oh, and some big wooden thing. Ba dump-bump.

My Text Message Collection

 It's been a little over a year that I have been a certified, card-carrying CELL PHONE OWNER. I realized this today as I was  picking my nose cleaning out my text messages. There are several I keep around for old times sake.

Like these two, from my blog friend Beej:

 We are like ONE STEP AWAY from actually TALKING to each other!!!!

This is big. You have just taken one step closer to actually being a real person.

And this one, from a friend who was waiting sort of patiently for my arrival:

Im getting ready to have wine will be passed out when you arrive

Then there are the sarcastic ones. The first one, from my friend Gubby, was a jab at me for not knowing about an earthquake that hit right near where I was vacationing, and he knew about it clear across the continent  in his cave  in the west:

GUBBY: There was a 3.6 earthquake near Germantown, MD, the largest in the DC area since 1974...did u hear The Beatles broke up?

MANTEL MAN: You have a much bigger brain than I thought you had.  : )

MARCY: You are so sweet. This must have been really hard to type on the Jitterbug.  : )



(Original photo stolen from these guys)

MANTEL MAN: Don't know who David Carr is? You ought to try harder to blend into our family...

And plenty of just plain funny ones that I couldn't explain if I tried:

GUBBY: I think ur office should have Mad Men Friday...like casual Friday but different & drunker

MANTEL MAN: Were they fighting in the song? Did Jesus win?

BOCCI: Does it come with or without corn?

RICK: The thought of no beer makes me want to cry

MANTEL MAN: Hi from Whidbey -- Whidbey Island weather! I can feel the moss growing on my north side.

GUBBY: [Brother] is at Chuck E. Cheeze teaching [girlfriend]'s 4yo nephew how 2 play quarters. Good times!! 

GUBBY: Teaching [his dog] to make a Long Island iced tea.

(Original photo used by permission from Wikimedia Commons) 

Go ahead -- leave me a text. Make it good and I'll add it to my collection.

PrompTuesday on a Wednesday Because I'm the Boss Around Here

(Banner stolen from San Diego Momma)

In case you're not familiar with PrompTuesday, it is the brainchild of one of my favorite bloggers (and a really, really good writer), Deb at San Diego Momma. I don't often take part because I have a tin ear for fiction, but I saw this prompt come up on Facebook yesterday and it got into my head.

This week's PrompTuesday was not based on any theme; rather, it was limited to 25 words or fewer. Now there's a limitation I can handle! I must have dreamed about it because when I woke up this morning, it was finished in my mind. At 27 words (ack -- editing time). Here's my effort.

She hadn't meant to cut off her pinkie, of course.
Staring at her bloody wedding ring, embedded in swollen flesh, she raised her hatchet again.

Sorry it's kinda gross. (Also, all ten of my digits are attached and this is NOT a personal statement of any kind.) Go check out PrompTuesday and see what you come up with, then link it back to SanDiegoMomma.com!

Strictly Commercial, OR, I Know More About Golf Than I Need To, OR, What WOULD Fuzzy Do?

 Last night as I hurried across town to the grocery store to buy five $3.00 artichokes -- yes, I'm that stupid -- I got stuck at a red light behind a cute little Mini Cooper. I read his vanity plate.

(Vanity plates created at this site)

Totally missing all the other contextual cues, such as a peace sign and a few other things, I pondered the meaning of this acronym.

"What Would . . . FZ . . . Do . . . What Would -- Ah!"

I had it. Of course. This peace sign-promoting, Mini Cooper-driving guy was also a fan of the senior golf tour.

"Fuzzy Zoeller!"

Wow, I would totally surprise my husband right now. He'd be so impressed that I knew Fuzzy Zoeller, and . . .

. . . and then I saw all the Frank Zappa bumper stickers.

(Zappa photo stolen from this site; Zoeller photo stolen from this site)

 

Oh yes, they're so easy to mix up.

(Peace sign used with permission from Wikipedia) 

Houston, We Have a Dinner Guest

(Photo stolen from these guys)

Gubby is in town. YAY, Gubby is here! Just found out he's coming over for dinner tonight. What do you fix for your best vegetable-hating friend who you talk to several times a week but haven't actually seen in about six years?

Vegetables, of course.

Things are gonna get REALLY silly. Buckle up. Prepare for launch.

Suddenly All Is Right With the World

(Image stolen from this site)

We had a family outing recently which turned out terrible, mostly. Sagging spirits piled on let-down heaped upon disappointment left us irritable and grumpy, trapped in the car together for the drive home. So when Smedley asked if anyone had a hair clip, I barked at her.

"Why would I have one of YOUR hair clips, Smed?" I snapped. This was a familiar theme. "You're supposed to take care of that, right? I'm always telling you that. OF COURSE I don't have any of YOUR hair clips."

"Here's one," Chas said calmly, handing a hair clip back to the back seat. My mouth fell open.

"Are you kidding me? How -- why -- where did you get a hair clip? Wow, Smed, your Daddy saves the day."

Without missing a beat, Smedley turned to her father and quipped, "Got a donut?"

I have not laughed that hard in forever.

Splendor in the Doldrums

You may have heard about the recent fire on Carnival Cruise Line's largest ship, Splendor, which resulted in a loss of electricity and civilized living conditions on board.



While the nearly 4500 passengers and crew members made the best of things, some took the crisis harder than others.

Gourmands, for instance.



Residents of Haiti, for example, who probably wouldn't have minded an airdrop of mini croissants and Spam.



But the group who had the hardest time of all were bloggers, Tweeters and others with various internet addictions. For those people, two days without a cell signal or an on-line connection became one of Dante's nine circles of Hell.



On the other hand, none of the honeymoon couples had any idea that any crisis had occurred and were quite surprised to find that the ship had been towed into San Diego this morning.


(Original photo stolen from these guys; all other photos stolen from Kansas City Star)

We're happy you're all home safe. A tip of the hat to the Mexican tug boats and to the U.S. Navy.

Seriously, Can Anyone See What This IS?

Craigslist strikes again with another winner. The following is the ad exactly as it appears (except for the phone number). Photo stolen from Anna.

*     *     *     *     *

NICE DRESSER TOP MIRROR - $100 (CHICO)

THIS GOES ON TOP OF A DRESSER. IT HAS SHELVES. PRETTY BIG. CALL ANNA AT [NUMBER OMITTED]. 100 OBO

*     *     *     *     *

How much for the ShopVac or water heater or whatever the heck that thing is that's far more important in your photo?

NEW! Acting My Age, Not My Bra Size

(Photo stolen from this site)

I once posted a comment on a lingerie web site extolling the virtues of a fab bra I had bought there. As part of the online info they requested about me in order to post the comment, I had to state my bra size. I was fine with that.

Weeks and months later I got a call from my friend Gubby, who could hardly talk for laughing. He said his mom called to ask him if he knew why I was listed on the internet with my bra size.

Good thing I didn't lie about the cup size. REALLY good thing I was pregnant at the time and didn't need to lie.

Pig Organ Soup, It's What's For Dinner

A photo sent from my brother Bocci, who is in Singapore on a business trip. Says Bocci, "If you've got Pig Organ Soup...you'd better advertise it!"

Says my friend Gubby, "Tell Bocci to be sure not to spit on the sidewalks while he's there."

Says Foolery, "Yes, that's ALL we need is an international incident with MY LAST NAME attached."

Says Gubby, "Another one, you mean."

Says Foolery, "Yeah -- another one. Right. The LaGrones don't need another caning."

Bocci was understandably silent on the matter, but had lots to say about the ratio of prostitutes and transsexuals to tourists.

This calls for a lively discussion at Thanksgiving. Perhaps over a bowl of pig organ soup.

And We Lived Happily Ever After, The End

(Original photo stolen from these guys)

The Vote: Before And After

Before:



After:



There. That wasn't hard, now, was it?

Well yes, actually, it was. Pretty sure that flipping a coin would have sufficed. I left a lot of stuff blank when I just couldn't sort it all out. But I voted, mostly.

I did it for you, and my children. Not for me. I have a really, really hard time forming political opinions 90% of the time. Am I stupid? Probably. Am I a bad citizen? Perhaps. I watched and listened to debates, I read, I pondered. But I was no closer to having solid opinions than before I started.

I blame myself, and advertising. And spin. Mostly myself. But I am done for a few more months.

Does this EVER get easier?

Guess What? Chicken Butt

It was a beautiful day for carving pumpkins outside. I forgot about the varmints, however.



Pretty soon we were up to our elbows in blurry cats and chickens.



Guess what?




Chicken butt.

On an entirely unrelated matter, poor Timmy seems to have expired.* Stupidity will get you every time. Except in my case.


*I don't know Timmy and can only hope and assume he is alive and well, only stupider.