Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Random thoughts While on the Road

Passed a sign on the highway that said "Nervous Charlie's Fireworks & Beer.   Seems like a dangerous wonder Charlie's nervous!

While searching for a place to eat one day, we saw a Mexican restaurant that looked promising, until we saw the Funeral Parlor next door.....that did not bode well....we decided to keep searching!

At one point on the highway, all the cars were in the left lane.  We drove along with everyone else in the left lane and finally came upon a sign that said "Right Lane Closed Ahead.   I couldn't believe that everyone was driving in the correct lane way in advance, and no one was speeding down the right lane in an effort to get ahead of everyone and then force their way into the left lane at the last minute.  Sad to say, in Maine, drivers would be rudely jockeying for position and nearly causing fender-benders in the process!

Life in the Bible Belt looks interesting; we saw billboards with alternating messages.  Beside the highway were  signs saying "Are You Ready to Meet Jesus?"  alternating with advertisments for "XXX Adult Shops."    Talk about mixed signals.......

EVA   (posting today from Austin, Texas)

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Saturday Silliness

This week's Saturday Silliness comes to you from just outside Nashville, TN.

A man joined a big national company as a trainee.  On his first day, he dialed the kitchen and shouted into the phone, "Get me a cup of coffe and quickly!"

The voice at the other end of the line responded, "You fool!  You've dialed the wrong extension.  Do you know who you are talking to?

"No," replied the trainee.
"It's the Managing Director of the company, you idiot."

"And do you know who you're talking to, you idot?"

"No," replied the Managing Director angrily.

"Thank God!" said the trainee, and quickly he hung up.

The Irish Brothel

Three Irishmen were sitting in the window seat at the pub across the street from a brothel.  The  local Methodist minister appears, and quickly goes inside.

"Will you look at that," said the first Irishman.  "Didn't I always say what hipocrits they were?"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, when the local Rabbi knocks on the brothel door and quickly goes inside.

"Another one trying to fool everyone with his pious preaching and stupid hats." commented the second Irishman.  The three continue drinking thier beer and soundly condemning the minister and the Rabbi, when they see their own Catholic priest knock on the brothel door and enter.

"Aw, now that's sad," said the third Irishman.  On of the girls must have died."




Sunday, February 19, 2012

Sundays In My Neck of the Woods

Last Friday I posted for the 1000th time on this blog.  l think it's time for a break! 

First, I have a give away for you!  Jayne Martin of In Jayne's World has published a book of essays called "Suitable for Giving, A Collection of Wit with a Side of Wry."   I found it to be delightfully entertaining, and Jayne was kind enough to send me two copies; one for me to review, and one to give away to one lucky reader.

Jayne is an exceptionally talented writer whose credits include "Big Spender" for Animal Planet and "A Child too Many," "Cradle of Conspiracy," and "Deceived by Trust" for the Lifetime Channel.  I've enjoyed reading her blog now for a couple of years and always enjoy her commentary on life and politics.

Her book consists of a collection of some of her blog posts.  Ms. Martin writes of being single at 60, sharing memories of her younger days, including spending her 30th birthday "in bed with Jose Cuervo."  In the essay  called "A Serving of Guilt With a Twist of Lime," she says she's a 'recovering Catholic,' and that she still gets hives in the presence of nuns. 

Jayne touches on many topics that a relevent to all of us.  I chuckled my way through the book, and Mr. Eva, also a fan of Jayne's,  enjoyed it as well! 

If you would like to be entered in the drawing for this book, please comment below. (That's it, no hoops to jump through, although I hope you visit Jayne's blog.) I will announce the winner a week from Monday.

If you prefer to buy a copy of the book, it's available on Amazon on Kindle or in hard copy.  Click here.

Mr. Eva and I will be heading south for a little R & R, and although I'll be bringing my laptop with me, I will not be posting everyday while we are gone.  Friday Fiction will resume when we return, around the middle or end of March.  I'll stop in to read a blog or two while on the trip, but chances are I won't be commenting much.  This is a temporary break; I intend to return in full force by the end of March.

Don't forget, you have just a week to enter the drawing for "Suitable for Giving" by Jayne Martin.  If you want to get an peek at her writing, check out her blog at In Jayne's World.


Saturday, February 18, 2012

Saturday Silliness

The Inventor
 He went to the Patent Office trying to register some of his inventions.  He went to the main desk to sign in and the lady at the desk had a form that had to be filled out.   She wrote down his personal info and then asked him what he had invented.

He said, "A folding bottle"

 She said, "Okay, what do you call it?"
"A Fottle." 

"What else do you have?"

 "I have also invented a folding carton."

Again she said "What do you call it?"
 "A Farton."

She sniggered and said, "Those are silly names for products and one of them sounds kind of crude."

He was so upset by her comment that he grabbed the form and left the office without even telling her about his folding bucket.
Norwegian Icebreaker heads up the North Saskatchewan River
As you may have seen on the news it's been very cold in Alberta ...
So cold, in fact, that the Government of Alberta has borrowed a Norwegian Icebreaker to clear the North Saskatchewan River for freighter traffic.
The Icebreaker is starting near Devon and working its way northward. Here is a picture as the hard work of ice breaking begins. Impressive!
Best Things to say if Caught Sleeping At Your Desk
They told me at the blood bank this might happen.
This is just a 15 minute power-nap as described in that time management course you sent me. 
  Whew! Guess I left the top off the White-Out You probably got here just in time!
  I wasn't sleeping! I was meditating on the mission statement and envisioning a new paradigm.
  I was testing my keyboard for drool resistance.
I was doing Yoga exercises to relieve work-related stress.
Damn! Why did you interrupt me? I had almost figured out a solution to our biggest problem.
The coffee machine is broken...
Someone must've put decaf in the wrong pot...
... in Jesus' name. Amen."
 A sexually active middle aged woman informed her plastic surgeon that she
 wanted her vaginal lips reduced in size because over the years they have
 become loose and floppy.

Out of embarrassment, she insisted that the surgery be kept secret and, of
 course, the surgeon agreed.

 Awakening from the anesthesia, she found 3 roses carefully placed beside her
 on the bed. Outraged, she immediately called in the surgeon.

 "I thought I specifically asked you not to tell anyone about my operation"!

 The surgeon told her he had carried out her wish for confidentiality and
 that the first rose was from him. "I felt so sad for you, because you went
 through this all by yourself."

 "The second rose is from my nurse. She assisted me in the surgery and
 understood perfectly, as she had the same procedure done some time├»¿½ ago."

"And what about the third rose?" she asked.

"That's from a man in the burn unit - he wanted to thank you for his new

Friday, February 17, 2012

Friday Fiction: Welcome to Singles Night, Chapter 7

(A word of caution: this fiction series may occasionally stray from a PG-13 rating to an R rating. Proceed at your own risk.)

If you missed Chapter 6, click here.

If you need to start at Chapter 1, click here.

          When Woody drove into the parking lot at Country Connections, Brad, one of his unofficial bouncers was waiting for him.  They entered the empty facility together.  The usual routine involved Brad cleaning the restrooms and buffing the dance floor while his boss set up the concession stand where they sold soda and fruit juice for mixers, chips, dip, crackers and other snacks.  Woody also took care of putting cash in the register, inking the stamps used to mark patrons’ hands once they’d paid, and unlocking the door at the back of the stage to admit the band.

          Because the band played at a club in Portsmouth, New Hampshire on Wednesdays and Thursdays, they carried their instruments with them from gig to gig.    This meant they would arrive a little earlier on Friday nights to allow time for set up and leave a little later on Saturday nights after they packed up again.  Patty had no instruments to set up, since all she used was a portable microphone, so she usually would sit at one of the tables near the stage and sip a Coke while reviewing the songs she would be singing during the evening, while the band prepared to perform.

     The “beep, beep, beep” of a truck approaching the building in reverse told them the band had arrived.  Woody kept an eye on the stage as the musicians carried in their guitars, drums, and keyboard.  Then Patty entered, dressed in fitted black leather pants and an emerald green beaded top.  Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her heels made a clicking noise as she crossed the stage and descended the steps to the dance floor.  She was carrying some sheet music and a bottle of Coke, which she placed on the table closest to the stage before pulling back a chair and taking a seat.

          “Hope we get a good crowd tonight,” said Woody as he dropped into the chair across from her.  His eyes were on her, waiting to get a close up look at the eyes that matched her top. 

          “Uh-huh,” mumbled Patty, never taking her eyes of the musical score in front of her.  A couple more unsuccessful attempts at conversation on Woody’s part convinced him she didn’t want to be disturbed while preparing to perform, and he backed his chair away from the table and made a beeline for the ticket office and concession booth.

          Strike one, he thought to himself.  Either she really was concentrating on her preparation, or she wasn’t interested.  Hopefully, it wasn’t the latter.  He busied himself breaking down the large bags of ice cubes into smaller quantity Zip Lock bags and placing them in the baskets in the chest freezer for later distribution to customers during the coming evening.  Brad gave him a little grin that told him his failed run at Patty Blanchette had not escaped notice.  Woody responded with a look that dared him to make a wisecrack.  Getting the message that his boss didn’t want to discuss it, Brad returned to buffing the floor.

          “Hey, Brad, time for parking lot duty,” called Leo, the other “bouncer” from the doorway.  As Brad returned the buffer to the closet, the voices of the first few customers of the night could be heard approaching the entrance.  Brad’s wife Brenda and her friend Corrine came in and joined Woody in the concession booth. 

          “I’ll take the concession window and Corrine can cover the ticket window.  We’re ready to go.”

          Corrine gave Woody an approving once over with her brown eyes.  He sure is one fine looking man, she thought to herself.  If I wasn’t already married, I’d be all over that!

          “What’s his story, anyway?”  Corrine asked Brenda, after Woody had left the concession area. “He’s such a nice, good-looking guy, but I don’t see a wedding ring.  I never see him with anyone, either—even in town.”

           “He and his wife Heather were married for a long time before she died from complications of breast cancer.  She was his whole life.  He was devastated when he lost her, and for a long time didn’t even leave the house, other than to go to work.  That was a few years ago—1975, I think.  Finally, around 1978, Brad convinced him that he had to get on with his life.  Eventually he bought this business, and has slowly come out of the dark place he was in.  Brad’s been trying to get him to date again, but as far as I know, he has yet to venture out,” answered Brenda.

          “Damn, that’s really sad,” mused Corrine.   “I had no idea.  I hope he doesn’t stay alone forever.”

          “Yeah, Brad and I feel the same way.  He’s such a good guy with a big heart.  He deserves to find happiness again.”  The two women shook their heads and prepared for the inevitable onslaught of customers.                

 (to be continued.)

Thursday, February 16, 2012

A Question For The Ladies

Recognize him?
Look closely and see if you can figure out who this is:

Another View?





Wednesday, February 15, 2012

New Word Wednesday #55

We’ve all encountered them—those pesky word verifications intended to keep spammers off websites. After three years of blogging and encountering these barriers on a daily basis, it occurred to me that great new word possibilities were being wasted. Why, every day I would type strange letter combinations, hit “enter,” and the letters would disappear, never to be seen again!


I decided that it was time to document these strange letter combinations and assign a definition to them, thereby creating some wonderful new words for our vocabularies. Following are 5 of these new creations for your enjoyment; feel free to assimilate your favorites into your everyday conversation. Your friends and co-workers will be envious!

Today's words:

deraise:  (verb)  euphemism for a pay cut; as in, "The office manager announced at the monthly meeting that all employees would experience a deraise in their next paycheck."

evasemp:  (noun) similar to semper fi, the slogan of the U.S, Marines; as in, "The slogan of devoted followers of chanted, 'evasemp, evasemp!'  which translates as Eva Forever!" 

gynecadet:  (noun) slang term for a doctor interning in gynecology; as in, "The gynecadet was nervous about performing his first solo pap smear."

irrea:  (noun) a multitude irrelevant information; as in, "The office manager spouted irrea as the reason for the upcoming deraise."

spingler:  (noun) title given to the person whose job it is to spin the bottle in the game of the same name; as in "Dennis got a power rush when he was assigned the role of spingler at the office party."

Remember, use a word 3 times and it's in your vocabulary forever!

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

See Me On Hoarders!

-+Two weeks ago, as you may recall, I took a fall on the ice.  I was returning from the street side where I had just deposited one of our garbage bins for pickup.  We'd had just a light covering of snow, and I found the one patch of ice in our driveway and proceeded to do my own version of hip hop; it wasn't pretty! 

Luckily my trip by ambulance to the emergency room, courtesy of those weight-lifting EMTS, determined that nothing was broken, but I did spend a few days having to resort to using a walker to navigate around the house.  I also was very sore.  I've improved quite a bit, but I still get twinges now and again.

Well, it's garbage day again.  I was able to get the trash out and into the bins (one for garbage, one for recycling) with the help of Mr. Eva.  He left for a doctor's apointment, so I decided I would hall the bins out to the street while he was gone.    The snow is gone from the drive way, so I could see where the ice patches were and avoid some of them, although there is a 4 or 5 foot stretch right at the foot of our steps which doesn't catch much sunlight and stays mirror-like most of the winter.  We sprinkle salt, but it thaws and then refreezes.

 The garbage can was no problem.  I was able to drag that bin to the street without difficulty or any break-dancing or hip-hop moves.  The recycle bin was another story.  Because my fall occurred before I had a chance to drag that bin to the street, it ended up staying where it was; it didn't get emptied.  Last week, we didn't bother to take the rubbish out, as I was still hurting too badly, and it was still very icy.  In between, we have had some mild days where more snow melted, and at least one night where the temp dropped into single digits (Farenheit). 

Pleased with myself that I'd managed to get the garbage can out to the street without mishap, I grabbed hold of the recycle bin.  It did not move.  I yanked on it.  I yanked again.  I kicked it (probably not the wisest thing to do when you're standing on an icy mirror!)  No go.  The bin is solidly frozen into about 2 inches of ice!  I'm afraid it's going to have to sit there until we get another stretch of mild weather.  Plus, it is packed full, containing 3 weeks worth of recyclables. 

If I miss posting at all during the next week, it will probably be because I can't reach my computer due to all the recyling bags that will be filling my house.  I'll be a candidate for the tv show "Hoarders!"  I'll wave to you so you'll know I'm okay.


Monday, February 13, 2012

Mothers, Daughters, and Other Mysteries: A Book Review

Mothers, Daughters and Other Mysteries is the third book by Heather McPhaul I have reviewed on this website, and I have to say, I think it's my favorite. It has a little of everything: action, humor, romance, and suspense.

Leann Conklin is in her thirties and still trying to find her place in the world of work. She's tried on various hats in the past, including that of a matchmaker as she tried to start her own online dating site. So far nothing has panned out. It's a tough position to be in, when your mother is Ava Gerard, Queen of the Daytime Soaps, a successful actress.

Leann's latest career plan is to become a private investigator. While working on a case she accidently finds herself involved in a murder, and now danger is lurking around every corner. To make matters worse, her mother decides to drop in for a surprise visit. Soon, Leann's photo is appearing on television as a murder suspect, and she and her mother must solve the murder, or they both could end up dead.

It's a fast-paced, fun read that will keep you engaged and have you laughing out loud. Heather has proved once again that she is a talented wrter. This book is based on a screen play the actor Rod Steiger was negotiating to produce just before he died. Although the movie never happened, we are fortunate that Heather liked her story well enough to turn it into a book. Her characters are believable and diverse. I say, Buy it, you'll love it!

To buy this book on Kindle or in Hardcopy, click here.

Note: the only compensation I received for writing this review was a copy of the book. My opinion was not influenced in any way by that fact.

Other books by McPhaul areRaggedy Ann Heart and Fire in the Hole. (The later was written under the pen name, Colleen Kelly.)


Sunday, February 12, 2012

Sundays In My Neck of the Woods

The Tory Hill Cafe is a little diner at 15 Pinkham Drive in Buxton, Maine.   It's actually larger on the inside than it appears on the outside.

The main dining area has half a dozen booths, 4 tables, and a counter that seats 7.

Then there is a larger dining room adjecent to this one.  I took a photo of the wall decorations above the archway to the additional dining room.

I apologize that the photo isn't clearer--my hand just wasn't as steady as I'd have liked.  Above the entrance to the second dining room are two cross-cut saws with landscape photos painted on them.  They were really pretty!

We were there for breakfast.  Mr. Eva had French toast made from homemade white bread with bacon and scrambled eggs.  Although you don't see it in this picture, they serve a syrup that is thick and delicious.  I tasted it and thought it might be REAL amber maple syrup.  I asked the waitress about it, because I would have definitely bought some if I knew the brand, but it was a Sysco product.  Sadly, they only wholesale to eateries.  : (           Mr. Eva thoroughly enjoyed his breakfast, and if this place were a little closer to home, we'd breakfast there often, I'm sure!

I had two eggs, over easy, bacon, homefries, and homemade wheat toast.  Everything was delicious, but the homemade wheat toast was to die for!  It was sooooo good!

I'm not a fan of going out for breakfast, but this place makes me want to come back often!  It was one of the best restaurant breakfasts I've had!


Saturday, February 11, 2012

Saturday Silliness

Six retired Italian Floridian fellows were playing poker in the condo clubhouse when Guido loses $500 on a single hand, clutches his chest, and drops dead at the table.   Showing respect for their fallen comrade, the other five continue playing, but standing up.
At the end of the game, Giovanni looks around and asks, "So, who's gonna' tell his wife?"
They cut the cards. Pasquale picks the low card and has to carry the news.  They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don't make a bad situation any worse.
"Discreet? I'm the most discreet person you'll ever meet. Discretion is my middle name. Leave it to me!"
So, Pasquale goes over to the Guido's condo and knocks on the door.  The wife answers through the door and asks what he wants?
Pasquale declares: "Your husband just lost $500 in a poker game and is afraid to come home."
"Tell him to drop dead!" yells the wife.
"I'll go tell him." says Pasquale .
Now, where can I find that damn duck?

Warning:  This last one is a little off-color.  If you are easily offended, you may want to skip it!

John O'Reilly hoisted his beer and said, "Here's to spending the rest of me life,
between the legs of me wife!" 
That won him the top prize at the pub for the best toast of the night!

He went home and told his wife, Mary, "I won the prize for the Best toast of the night."
She said, "Aye, did ye now. And what was your toast?" John said, "Here's to spending
the rest of me life, sitting in church beside me wife."

" Oh, that is very nice indeed, John!" Mary said.
The next day, Mary ran into one of John's drinking buddies on the street corner.
The man chuckled leeringly and said, "John won the prize the other night at the pub
with a toast about you, Mary."

She said, "Aye, he told me, and I was a bit surprised myself. You know, he's only
been in there twice in the last four years. Once he fell asleep, and the other time I had to pull him by the ears to make him come."


Friday, February 10, 2012

Friday Fiction: Welcome to Singles Night Chapter 6

(A word of caution: this fiction series may occasionally stray from a PG-13 rating to an R rating. Proceed at your own risk.)

If you missed Chapter 5, click here.

If you need to start at Chapter 1, click here.

          The popularity of Country Connections defied explanation.  It wasn’t fancy.  A sprawling wooden building with a porch across the front, surrounded by acres of parking lot, it wasn’t the type of building that would attract your attention.  In daylight, the potholes in the pavement and the fading painted shingles made it a borderline eyesore.  But there was something magical about the place at night. 

          White lights strung much like Christmas decorations around the top of the porch, the beckoning neon roof sign flashing “WELCOME TO COUNTRY CONNECTIONS: Where We Know You By Name, and Everybody’s Got Game”, coupled with the shroud of darkness which camouflaged a multitude of cosmetic sins, the dance hall was somehow transformed into a pleasure palace, much like candlelight, satin, and pancake makeup could do wonders for a ‘plain Jane.’  

           Inside, the cathedral ceiling supported by exposed beams, the faux gas lanterns, and the large stage at the back of the room created a cozy, country effect that belied the sheer size of the place.  The long tables on each side of the dance floor were designed to minimize isolation.  Conversation flowed more naturally when strangers were required to share table space, instead of keeping to themselves at small tables for two and four.

          Every Friday night was Singles’ Night at Country Connections.  Occasionally a philandering, married male (or female) might infiltrate the crowd, but for the most part, you could expect to be mingling with other single people.  Saturday nights were Couples’ Nights, and the place would be with teeming with young married couples who’d managed to get a sitter for the evening, older married couples,  and often pairs who’d found each other on a Friday and opted for more than a one night stand.

          Woody Blackstone, the proprietor of Country Connections, was committed to providing a safe, fun, environment for people to gather to dance and have a good time.  He employed a few burly bouncers to keep things from getting rowdy. Most of the time; they had little ‘bouncing” to do, and worked at keeping the place clean, and making sure everyone was having a good time.    If there was a particularly busy night, they might go outside and direct parking lot traffic, helping customers find parking spots.  They were under strict instructions from Woody to turn a blind eye at what might be going on in parked cars in the darker areas of the lot.  For some patrons, having a good time might include a quickie in a back seat, and that was none of Country Connections’ business.

          Woody had purchased the property two years ago in 1978. Three years had passed since his wife died from complications of breast cancer surgery, and he had become bored with spending weekends at home alone.  He was uninterested in dating, and when the place had been advertised for sale, he saw it as an opportunity to fill his free time.  Originally a grange hall, the building had required minimum renovations to be opened as a dance club. 

          Some people criticized him for hiring country western bands, insisting he would draw larger crowds with true rock or disco performers, but it seemed to him that the “shit-kicking” music (as his critics referred to country) attracted fewer druggies and trouble -makers.  As it turned out, there were more ‘shit-kicking’ music fans than they thought; the bottle club had turned into a pretty profitable operation.

         For the past 6 months, a group called “Patty and the Sidewinders” had been the taking the stage every weekend.  Part of the reason for that was their popularity with the patrons; but to be honest, part of the reason was Patty Blanchette, the lead singer.  There was something about her smile, her powerful “pipes,” and her voluptuous figure that Woody couldn’t put out of his mind.  The conversations they’d had up to this point were limited to business, but he was working on changing that.

          Tonight he had taken extra care showering, shaving, and dressing before heading out to open the club for business.  He’d worn his best black jeans, a blue and white checkered sport shirt and felt he didn’t look half bad for a 45-year-old widower.  There was just a hint of silver in his curly black hair and his blue eyes had a sparkle in them when he thought about the possibility of dating Patty.  He took a last glance at himself in the mirror before putting on his shoes and jacket, and was satisfied with what he saw.  “Here I come, ready or not, Patty Blanchette,” he thought to himself.

To be continued) 

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Funeral Notice

Sadly, my computer died, which is why I have not been posting to my blog.   I think I may need a day or two to learn how to use this new computer.  Hang in there with me, I shall return!

Monday, February 6, 2012

Why Snowbirds Exist

We hope to go south for two or three weeks once I recover completely from my fall.  Here's why:

'Nuff said?

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Sundays in My Neck of the Woods

Still not fully mobile, so we're eating at "Chez Gallant" today. then putting my feet up to watch the super bowl.

Enjoy the game, everyone!


Saturday, February 4, 2012

Saturday Silliness

A Bevy of Blonde Jokes Today!  (No offense to any blonde readers!)

The Seven Degrees of Blondness:

A married couple were asleep when the phone rang
at 2 in the morning.The very blonde wife picked up the phone,
listened a moment and said 'How should I know; that's 200 miles
from here!' and hung up.
The husband said, 'Who was that?'

The wife answered, 'I don't know, some woman wanting to know if the coast is clear.' 

Two blondes are walking down the street. One notices a compact on the
sidewalk and leans down to pick it up. She opens it, looks in the mirror
and says, 'Hmm, this person looks familiar.'

The second blonde says, 'Here, let me see!'

So, the first blonde hands her the compact.
The second blonde looks in the mirror and says, 'You dummy, it's me!'

A blonde suspects her boyfriend of cheating on her, so she goes out and
buys a gun. She goes to his apartment unexpectedly and when she opens the
door she finds him in the arms of a redhead. Well, the blonde is really
angry. She opens her purse to take out the gun, and as she does so, she is
overcome with grief. She takes the gun and puts it to her head.

The boyfriend yells, 'No, honey, don't do it!!!'
The blonde replies, 'Shut up, you're next!' 

A blonde was bragging about her knowledge of state capitals.
She proudly says, 'Go ahead, ask me, ... I know 'em all.'

A friend says, 'OK, what's the capital of Wisconsin?'
The blonde replies, 'Oh, that's easy . it's W.' 

Q: What did the blonde ask her doctor when he told her she was pregnant?
A: 'Is it mine?' 

Bambi, a blonde in her fourth year as a UCLA Freshman, sat in her US
Government class. The professor asked Bambi if she knew what
Roe vs. Wade was about.

Bambi pondered the question; then, finally, said, 'That was the decision
George Washington had to make before he crossed the Delaware .'

Returning home from work, a blonde was shocked to find her house
ransacked and burglarized. She telephoned the police at once and
reported the crime. The police dispatcher broadcast the call on the radio,
and a K-9 unit, patrolling nearby, was the first to respond..

As the K-9 officer approached the house with his dog on a leash, the blonde ran out on the porch, shuddered at the sight of the cop and his dog, then sat down on the steps. Putting her face in her hands, she moaned, 

'I come home to find all my possessions stolen. I call the police for help, and what do they do? They send me a BLIND policeman!' 


Friday, February 3, 2012

Friday Fiction: Welcome to Singles Night, Chapter 5

(A word of caution:  this fiction series may occasionally stray from a PG-13 rating to an R rating.  Proceed at your own risk.)

If you missed chapter 4, click here.

If you need to go back to chapter 1, click here.

            At one point Rick came up behind her and puts his arms around her, and Sandy knew all she needed to do was turn around; and she wanted to—it had been so long since a man had made love to her.  And probably Rick would be a tender lover.  But she was just too scared.  

She broke loose and made a last desperate attempt to locate those keys in the kitchen.  She shuffled things around on the table, and at last they fell out of the phone book.  They must have somehow slipped in between the pages when she had carelessly tossed them on the table before she left.

            Hastily, she rushed Rick out of her apartment, into her Volkswagen, and drove him home.  In his driveway, he gave her a couple of lingering kisses, “to sleep on.”  Then he said goodnight and got out of the car.  He promised to call her the next day.

          Rick never did call, and after a week, Sandy realized he wasn’t going to.  He probably assumed she was a total nut case!  She often wondered what would have happened if he had called.  Would she have been less terrified the next time?   “I guess I’ll never know,” she thought. 

          The next weekend Sandy’s son and daughter were staying with her instead of going to their dad’s, so she didn’t go out, other than to take the kids to see a movie.  It was fun to have them when she wasn’t working.  Usually, per their custody agreement, Kim and Danny spent weekends and vacations with her ex, unless they agreed to ab alternative plan.   John was on a business trip to London and wouldn't be back until Sunday, so she had agreed to keep the kids.

          On Friday night, she had supervised their homework completion, despite their moans and groans.  Then they spent Saturday and Sunday baking cookies, playing Uno, and had gone to see Star Wars at the movie theater, which totally thrilled Danny.  Kim, the older of the two at 12, was more reserved in her praises. 

             “It was pretty good,” she admitted, “but Princess Leia’s hair was lame!  Like a couple of doughnuts on her ears!”

          At work the following Monday, Ginger was full of fun stories about her vacation escapades when they met for lunch.  Then she asked Sandy what she’d been up to in her absence.  When Sandy told her about going back to Country Connections and meeting Rick, Ginger was delighted. 

           “So he was really hot, huh?  Did you jump his bones?” asked Ginger.
           " I was too freakin’ terrified,” responded Sandy.  “I’m lucky I didn’t pee in my pants in panic!”
            This sent both women into fits of giggles, as Sandy told her the ‘rest of the story,’ the missing car keys and her frantic search for them.  Ginger laughed so hard at Sandy’s recounting of the experience; she had to dry the tears of laughter from her eyes.
            “We definitely have to hit that place again this weekend,” Ginger exclaimed.  “It sure beats sitting at home watching television!”
            “I think Elizabeth might come with us, too.  She had a good time and may be up for another run at the place,” said Sandy.  “I’ll check with her.”
             “Sounds like a plan.  The more, the merrier!” Ginger added as she folded her lunch bag and headed back to her office.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Still Mending

I'm much better today, and will be back full force tomorrow!  Thanks for all the kind words and good wishes!

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Time Out!

No blog post today.  I spent half of yesterday in the emergency room after a fall on the ice.  It was a case of "I've fallen and I can't get up!"  Poor Mr. Eva has arthritis in his knees so bad that walking is a chore for him, which meant he couldn't help.  He called 911 and two wonderful EMTs came and took me to the hospital by ambulance.

Nothing's broken, but I just don't have the energy to come up with something clever and comical.  Maybe my mojo is cracked.  They didn't mention it when they reviewed the X-rays, but you never know.   I'll be back later in the week.