Friday, November 28, 2014

The Not-So-Humble Chef


I was fortunate to be invited this past Thanksgiving to dinner at the house of friend whose wife is stellar in the culinary arts. Everything was terrific, a fact that was not at all lost on Denise herself, the very purveyor of the very Thanksgiving meal itself.

"Denise, this soup is really good," said a fellow guest as we began partaking of Course No. 1.

"It sure it," I added.

"It's fantastic!" exclaimed Denise, "the finest Italian Wedding Soup you'll find anywhere!"

This was unusual, I thought.  

Most people are somewhat modest in a situation of this sort. They say things like "I'm so glad you like the soup" or "I'd hoped it would turn out alright," not "the stars are smiling upon you that you're privileged to eat my marvelous soup tonight!"

But it was a small complaint given the fine meal I'd been invited to.

Course No. 1 over, the turkey was served.   A number of guests acknowledged its excellent taste.

"Great turkey," said a guest.

"Good stuffing too," said another.

"It's delicious!" cried out Denise "My gravy gets better every year, and the stuffing is my own very special recipe, never been equaled, never will!"

Now this was pushing it, I thought. At least give the dear departed bird a bit of the credit too.

Main course cleared away, time for desert.

"Denise, love this creme brule," said a guest.

"Yes, it's really delicious," said another.

"This is the best creme brule anyone has ever eaten in the history of the world,"  exulted Denise. "The dictionary definition of the word 'scrumptious!'"

I could take it no longer.

"For God's sake, Denise, sure this food is good, but it isn't the most pleasurable experience since the invention of the orgasm.  Say 'thank you,  I'm pleased you enjoyed my humble meal,'  not 'You assholes are lucky I condescended to grace you with this food of the gods!'

There was total silence, except for a cough or two. Denise looked at me for a moment, then spoke.

"You're right, Perry.  I'm sorry,  I do get carried away. Say, how is your blog coming along?"

"I just wrote the fucking funniest humor piece anybody's ever read about a woman who can't stop praising her own cooking! It's unbelievably hilarious!"

Sometimes in life you just gotta blow your own horn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Wednesday, November 26, 2014

The Library at Emmetsville (FF)




The Library at Emmetsville had been the center of this small New England town since the 18th Century.  Folks from far and wide congregated there to read, learn, and discuss ideas.

But in the early 21st Century most people stayed home, glued to the Internet. And after a number of cutbacks, it was decided the library would close.

Then a massive virus struck the Internet, wiping out half of all the books ever written, over 80% of existing cat videos, and dinner reservations at Olive Gardens nationwide.

Confidence in the Internet extinguished, people turned back to books and the Library once more became the center of Emmetsville.  And the Internet, well, there would always need to be a home for cat videos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So a computer virus saves the books of the world. Great!  But most importantly, if you have a reservation at Olive Garden anywhere in the United States, it also saves you!

That's the story today according to my Friday Fictioneers response to the prompt above.  The responses of the many other Fictioneers are available by clicking here, so please click away and then how about we meet over at the Library at Emmetsville to discuss them? 

AND NO, I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR CAT VIDEOS! 

Monday, November 24, 2014

Thanksgiving Thankfulness




Thanksgiving is one holiday that tends to get lost in the shuffle, and that's a darn shame. 

This is one of the few holidays that truly commemorate a meaningful event in American history, a special day when English settlers and Native Americans sat down together to carve up a turkey between them.  For the next 300 years thereafter, most of the carving between them would be of the Native Americans.

So let's take a moment this Thanksgiving, preferably after we're overdosed on tryptophan, and give thanks for whatever we're most thankful for, such as: 

I am thankful that ....

1) I am thankful for all of you who read my blog. May you never acquire something constructive to do.

2) I am thankful that I do not have a sign on my back that says "kick me" that is left over from high school. The one I have on my back  that says "kick me" is left over from Law School. 

3) I am thankful that I have never been drugged and used for sex by Bill Cosby, but then again, how would I know?

4) I am thankful that turkey and stuffing do not have an overt sexual relationship because it would be quite difficult to eat them while they are panting and moaning and crying "yes! yes! yes!"  I'd probably just stick to the peas.

5) I am thankful we do not have a loudmouth racist uncle at our Thanksgiving dinner table, although I am getting rather sick of our loudmouth racist aunt

6)  I am thankful that the Zombie Apocalypse has never fallen on Thanksgiving because I don't know how well brains go with mashed potatoes.

7)  I am thankful that dogs do not burst into flames when I pet them.

8) I am thankful to President Obama for not coming to my house and pardoning the turkey that I plan to eat tonight.

9)  I am thankful for those lazy trypophan-filled times after the Thanksgiving meal when all of us gather around the television set in the family room to watch football but mostly fall asleep. That's when I sneak the hell out of this dump and do something fun!

10) I am thankful that I have the opportunity to live in the greatest country in the world.  Once I figure out which one it is, I'm so there!

11) I am thankful for literature, poetry, and art. While other people are distracted by them, I am able to get the best seats in the house for Wrestlemania! 

12) I am thankful that I do not know even one person prone to exclaiming "Hurrah for the Pumpkin Pie!," because I would have to shoot them.

13) I am thankful that women about whom I have fantasies are not telepathically able to link into them because then only women over 375 pounds who look like actor Rainn Wilson would ever talk to me.  Actually, make that an even 400.

14) I am thankful that spiders do not carry handguns. 

15) I am thankful that my name is not Bluesette.

16) I am thankful actor James Franco is not a member of our family because I already feel inferior enough what with the current most accomplished member of our family being a reasonably well-trained schnauzer.

17) I am thankful you do not burst into flames when I pet you, even though I have absolutely no intention of ever petting you.  Or your dog.

18) I am thankful for Thanksgiving, one of the best holidays there is.  May it nevermore get lost in the shuffle.

So what are you thankful for this Thanksgiving?  Spill it, dudes.

Unless it's pumpkin pie, in which case you better run! 

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Saturday, November 22, 2014

Oh, Pardon Me!














Speaking jointly today, Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell and Speaker of the House of Representatives John Boehner blasted President Obama for his announced intention to utilize Executive Authority to accomplish one of his major stated goals before the end of 2014.

"Here we are witnessing another shameless power grab by this Imperial President," said Speaker Boehner. "Nowhere in the Constitution is authority given to the President of the United States to pardon a turkey!  Not on Thanksgiving, not on Ronald Reagan's Birthday, not on any day."

"If he can pardon a turkey without Congressional action,"  added Mr. McConnell, "can he pardon a chicken?  What about shellfish?  There's no end to it!"

Both men were adamant that the pardoning of any form of wildlife must be approved by Congress after the selected animal has first been thoroughly vetted by the House Wildlife and Fisheries Committee.  "Prior to any pardon being granted,"  said Mr. McConnell,"Congress must be satisfied that the turkey is not a socialist, a Communist, or especially tasty."

"If the President persists in his current reckless behavior,"  Mr. Boehner and Mr. McConnell warned "he and the turkey are in for a very rude awakening!"

By day's end former Republican governor of Alaska Sarah Palin had weighed in on the controversy as well.  "From the window of my house," said Palin, "I can see Turkey." *

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*In fairness, Palin never said she could see Russia from her house in Alaska. What she said was "you can actually see Russia from an island in Alaska," which is accurate.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

The Michelin Man Comes to Mewly (FF)


Once a thriving small town in the middle of Kansas, Mewly had fallen on hard times, and nothing symbolized the town's decline more than the shuttered Middleham Motors.

Old battered tires were strewn throughout the site.

But one day an excited Mayor Jane Sibly announced she had found a buyer for Middleham.

"Who is the buyer?" asked the residents of Mewly.

“You won’t believe this:  it’s the famous Michelin Man! He’s coming tomorrow.”

But everyone was worried.  There was no time to clean up the site.

The next day the Michelin Man flew into Mewly.  As he arrived at Middleham Motors, everyone held their breaths.

“Mom! Dad!” he cried, ”You’re here!”  

Today, Mewly is the Tire Capitol of the World.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's quite a tender and poignant reunion between the Michelin Man and his folks I closed with here, and for those of you who don't think I can write tender and poignant, you're right.  I paid Russell plenty to write that sequence.

To kick the tires of other Friday Fictioneers' entries on this week's prompt, please kick ... I mean, click here.

Say, need any tires while you're here in Mewly? We got a great sale going on the Michelin Man's Aunt Phoebe and Uncle Bud.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

The Adventures of Super Ass, Internet Breaker!
















On the set of the cable reality show "Keeping Up With the Kardashians." Kim Kardashian is seen alone in her room.

Kim: This is terrible! (beginning to cry) I was promised they would not show my breasts! Then they print these awful pictures that were meant just for my husband, Usher!

Director:  Kim, that's Kanye West.

Kim: (crying hysterically) Kanye Whatever!  What do they think I am, some kind of blatant and shameless publicity seeker?!  I swear as God is my witness I will never pose naked again!

DirectorAnd that's cut!  Kim, that was wonderful!  How did you manage to bring out the tears in that scene?

Kim: I thought about the fact that some people in the remotest areas of the four corners of the world have never yet seen my tits, and I just lost it! 

DirectorDon't worry, Kim. Someday they will. Someday they will.

Kim:  Look! Overhead!

Director:  What is it? That beam of light in the sky?

Kim: It's the Ass Signal! To the Ass Pole!

Kim grabs a bucket of skin oil and ducks into her dressing room as she begins to pull down her pants. The scene shifts to the downtown hotel room of famed comedian Bill Cosby, where Cosby is seen with a young model named Samantha. 

Cosby: Hey, hey, hey,  Samantha!  Let me mix you my special drink.

Samantha: That would be nice, Mr. Cosby.

Cosby:  It's called the Cosby Cock-tail.  It's aptly named.   

Samantha: Bottoms up, Mr. Cosby.

Cosby:  Let's hope so, hey, hey, hey!  

Samantha: Gee, I never had a bubbling drink like this before. 

Cosby:  So then Fat Albert was running down the street in North Philadelphia and he said "throw me the ball" but then he bumped into Old Weird Harold and Old Weird Harold and Fat Albert decided to go the corner store to buy gum, but Fat Albert said that gum would stick to the ball and Old Weird Harold .... 

Samantha:  I'm beginning to get drowsy, Mr. Cosby.

Cosby:  The drugs! They must be starting to work.

Samantha:  It isn't the drugs, Mr. Cosby, it's your boring totally unfunny monologue. I can't fight it, my eyes are closing!

Cosby:  Either way, hey, hey, hey!

Cosby begins advancing on Samantha as she falls to the ground.  Suddenly the window shatters and in flies a huge well-oiled ass, with a big red S on its thighs!

Cosby:
 Oh, no!  It's  Super Ass, Internet Breaker!  

Super Ass: Hello, Cos. Long time, no see. 

Cosby:  What are you doing here, Super Ass?

Super Ass: Your behavior is despicable, Cos.  I've come to stop it! 

Cosby: You mean doping and ravishing young girls?

Super AssNo, you idiot, I mean getting too damn much attention on the Internet!  Some people are actually posting about you instead of me!

Cosby: Stay back, Super Ass, or I'll blow the Internet sky high with further revelations!

Super AssYou don't scare me, Cosby! Prepare to die! On the Internet, that is.

Super Ass knocks Cosby to the ground, flies to the sleeping Samantha and snatches her up,  and carries her to safety.  

Super Ass:  See, Cos?  Now you've done nothing disgusting tonight. Nothing to post about.

Cosby:  (seeing the benefit) That's right.  That's .... good!

Super Ass:  Next I'll travel into the past and undo every other sexual outrage of yours so there'll be nothing notable about you in 2014 except your liver spots.  

CosbyGee, thanks Super Ass!  Hey, hey, hey!

Super Ass: Don't mention it, Cos.  Removing a pathetic old pervert like you as a rival in my attempt to Break the Internet is my pleasure! 

Super Ass flies into the sky, off for her next Internet Breaking adventure! 

On-Lookers from the Street: 


Look up in the sky!
It's Absurd! 
It's a Shame!
It's ....
 Super Ass, Internet Breaker!  



Have you posted about her today?

The End (no pun intended)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Hooray for Hollywood! (FF)


Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
I never would have believed it, Sid!  Two months in Hollywood and you've made it all happen!"

"I told you, Johnny, I'm your man: Sid Swifty,  Agent to the Stars!"

"And here already I'm playing the Palace!  You are the best agent in show business, Sid."

"And tomorrow, kid, you'll be working with Harrison Ford!"

"It's a dream come true."

"Well, kid, we're at the Palace now."

"I’m so excited, Sid!  Where do I go?"

"Over by green booth.  That's where you pick up the cars to valet."

"Got it." 

"And if all goes well, Harrison Ford will be lunching here tomorrow!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you're going to make it in show business, you need a good agent.  Too bad our protagonist got himself Sid Swifty.  I wonder how much 10% is of $7.25 an hour?

If Sid reps authors too, I'd advise the rest of our Friday Fictioneers to steer clear. I don't have too much to worry about because 10% of zero is probably not worth his while, but if Sid checks out  the other Fictioneers' responses to the picture prompt above, his mouth may be watering.

Who knows, guys?  Wanna work with Harrison Ford?

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Oh, Baby!

Now what could be cuter than that?

One of the lousy things about being older is that your kids are grown and gone.  And you really miss the days when they were little. 

Lately I've developed a keen interest in babies because it takes me back to the fond days when I had teeny weeny ones myself. just love it when I have the chance to enjoy other people's little ones.  Unfortunately, sometimes annoying distractions get in the way.


The other day a very attractive young blonde woman with a baby carriage almost bumped into me as she was leaving the deli and I was entering. 

"I'm so,so sorry, sir," she said sweetly. 


"No problem,"  I replied. "Say, aren't you a beautiful baby!"


"Please call me Julie."


"No, what's the baby's name?"


"Oh, it's Max."


"Hello, Max!  Aren't you a big, big boy?  Yes you are, yes you are!"


"You seem like a very caring man," she said, pushing back her luxurious blonde tresses with both hands.


"Thanks.  And how old are you Maxela, you little cute-patootie?"


"Twelve months,"  she sighed, her pouty upturned lips quivering sensually,  "He's a handful, though, especially since I'm raising him alone."

Now why do I have to know that? 

"Max, are you sleeping through the night yet?  I'll bet you are, big boy, I'll bet you are!"


"Thankfully, he is," she said, turning her incredibly shapely body fully in my direction. "It's been very rough for me since his dad left."


Bummer, I'm sure.  But I'm trying to talk to Max here!

"You have a big beautiful smile, Maxie!  And terrific blue eyes!"


"His father was just too young.  I prefer older more mature men."

Frankly,  I was beginning to get a little tired of hearing about this beautiful woman's problems. 

"Soon, Maxela, you'll be  walking, talking, getting into all kinds of trouble ..."

"I've always liked Jewish men too." 

Who the hell cares?!!

"You're in for exciting things ahead, Max Man!" 

"Me too, I hope."


Enough was enough was enough!  


"Well, miss, gotta go..."


"Please call me Julie."


"Sure, miss.   Bye, Max! I loved meeting you, Big Guy!"


"Wait, would you like to maybe have coffee?"

"Nah."  


"I'll buy.  Dinner too!" 

Unbelievable.  Can't you admire some one's child these days without them practically wrapping their gorgeous legs around you and rubbing their ample breasts against you?


I began to walk away.  Adorable baby, but very obnoxious strikingly breathtaking mom.

"Wait, wait, please!" she shouted after me. "I love sex!"


Incredible.   


Can anyone beat that for TMI?


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Car Talk (FF)

                                                                  Copyright – Jean L. Hays    

"Wonder why we haven't seen Little Jimmy lately, Dumpy,"said the wrecked red car.

"Because Little Jimmy grew up, Wrecky," said the dump truck. "Moved away and started his own family."

"What’ll become of us?"

"I've heard something about us leaving.  Jimmy's Mom’s probably going to donate us to charity so another little boy can play with us."

"Whaat?!! But what if he's a big fat kid who sits on us? Or some sweaty kid who never showers?  OMG, what if he does you-know-what right in front of us?!!!

"Don't make me barf, Wrecky."

"Oh, no, here comes Jimmy's Mom!" 

"Wait!  It's not Jimmy's Mom.  It's Jimmy!   I think I know what’s happening.”

"What, Dumpy?"

"We're not being donated.  Jimmy's taking us home.... so his little boy can play with us."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I decided to go for the heartwarming touch at the end --- even though I feel like I've seen this theme done before --- to disguise the fact that I completely desecrated the prescribed Friday Fictioneers guideline of 100 words by 30% or more. So sue me.

I was never a fan of the NPR program Car Talk, but my blogpost title today can serve the double purpose of also standing as an unoffficial tribute to Tom Magliozzi, the Car Talk brother who just passed away.  I admired their enthusiasm, even if I found them kind of annoying.

Never annoying are the other Friday Fictioneers, whose heart-warming works can be found by clicking here.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

There's One In Every Dorm

Yeah, there's always a guy like this. Remember?

I went to college years ago when dorms and dorm rooms were little better than army barracks but without the tough ass An Officer and a Gentleman type drill sergeant and the requirement that you learn to use a rifle without shooting yourself in the foot.

Nowadays the dorms in which my son and his fellows reside at colleges and universities throughout the country are more like four star hotels, only without concierge service and night time chocolates placed neatly by their beds. Plus today's dorms are co-educational, a development of which I 
never would have dreamed but for which I would have gladly swapped dozens and dozens of pieces of chocolate and my rifle, were I to have one.

But no matter how dorms may change, some things remain the same.  There are almost always certain types of dorm residents that all of us would recognize, whether we're matriculating millennials today or like me, antiques from the Age of Aquarius.   


What follows is a sampling. 

There's always one guy in every dorm who: 


.... can drink an entire beer in one gulp.  

Yes, this seemed impressive back in the day but it's somehow less so today when the same guy does it for you just before performing your open heart surgery.


 .... claims he never masturbates. 
One can only hope he was lying.  Because if not, you and I have no willpower whatsoever!


....  claims he routinely stays up all night before a 30 page term paper is due,  types it all out in one draft (in the typewriter era),  and always gets an "A." 

Predictably, most of these people are murdered before they reach age 21.


....  claims he never studies, parties the night before tests, and always gets an "A."

Double homicide anyone?


.... never fails to wax poetic on any occasion, littering his everyday conversation with references to Shakespeare, Keats, James Joyce, Film Noir, Classical vs. Modern Art, and any other conceivable subject or reference which displays his depth, sensitivity, and profound love and appreciation for art in whatever form it may be found or prove to exist.
He's only doing it to try to pot naive freshman girls.  It rarely works.


  .... claims no matter how drunk or how stoned he is he can drive perfectly well, so c'mon, don't be a baby, climb in the car with him. 
And true to form, this is the guy who got you home from innumerable parties and on occasion even drove you from Philadelphia to Boston and back.  And now years later as you pause to reflect on it, what comes to mind is 

"OMG, WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING!!!"


.... is  goofy and weird-looking but who because he is kind of character quickly becomes a favorite of everyone in the dorm who uniformly call him something like "Lapdog," "Joe Bluster," or "the Funkman."  
Yes, Lapdog has an incredible God-given ability to be as popular as a cool guy without actually being one.  Sometimes you almost wish you could be  goofier and weirder-looking and maybe you'd be as popular as Joe Bluster or the Funkman.


....  has dates each and every weekend while you are sitting home watching "I Dream of Jeannie."  
You'd like to imagine that in the parallel universe you're living the same life as this guy. But you know you're not.  In the parallel universe you're sitting home watching "I Dream of Jeannie" while this guy has dates every weekend.


.... has a girlfriend with whom he's been going steady since the seventh grade whose pictures grace every square inch of  his dorm room and to whom he glowingly and lovingly tells one and all he will be wed just as soon as the two of them are both out of college.   
Ten or fifteen years later this guy generally comes out as gay.


.... is a screaming, shouting, wildly gesticulating ultra-leftwing, socialist, anarchist, Che Guevara-spouting, Mao Tse Tung-admiring, Saul Alinsky-loving "power-to-the-people, right on!" crazed revolutionary radical.
Most of these guys wind up working at Fox News.


.... has fantastic hair. 
And know what?  Still has it too.


.... is extremely talented on the guitar and never hesitates to whip it out to serenade the dorm with any one or more of his dozens of original songs. 
And after a semester or two, you finally master the art of planting a smile on your face, rhythmically tapping your feet, and swaying to and fro to the worst goddamn music you've ever heard in your life.


.... at the end of a social evening always combs through the ashtrays  to scoop up any remaining roaches.
Yeah, you're right.  That was me. 

So, did I forget any other guys that there's always one of in every dorm?  

Hey, let me know ...

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