Posts Tagged: humor

Ha!

Wed. 25 April, 2018.

When I was a young teen, I attended several sleep-overs where late at night some of the girls played the ‘parlour game’ Ouija.

Not me, as I was tucked into my sleeping bag trying to go to sleep. When they would encourage me to get up and join them, I would decline. One time I watched the first ten minutes of the proceedings but was considered a joykiller as I kept asking if it wasn’t their hands moving the game piece to get the answer they wanted.

I was sent back to my sleeping bag.

The second time this happened, I was in the state of nearly asleep when my friend Tiffany screamed, “Jenifer!! The Ouija board says you are going to die in your forties!”

“That’s nice, I am going to sleep.”

Fast forward to yesterday. My fiftieth birthday. As of today, I am officially completely out of my forties and am not going back.

Take that, Tiffany’s Ouija board!

******

p.s. Happy 15th Birthday to this Blog Today!

p.p.s. This post was originally posted as an Early Access post at my Patreon.

The Borg Has A Tree, I

The Borg has a Tree, I

A london plane tree to be exact…

Today, Saturday, March 31, 2018, I was exploring the back by-ways that would allow me to arrive at my favorite gluten-free bakery in London all the while avoiding the mess of Oxford Street when I found this new post-modern contemporary contemporary building in Fitzrovia with a poor, pre-leafed out London plane tree standing bravely in the rain defending the neighborhood from the Borg.

Good job, Plane Tree. I still have my own mind and life.

Photo taken by Ms. Jen with her camera phone type object.

* Photo and text originally posted as a Early Access post at my Patreon.

It has been a Rough Morning here at Camp Hanen

Ms. Belle has had a rough morning...

Tues. 03.06.18 – The fabulous Ms. Belle has had a rough and tiring morning here at Camp Hanen!

She woke me up at 6:00am to go out to use the doggy potty, it was cold and windy while she minded her chores. From 6:30am to 8:00am, she carried on a heavy kiss bombardment and foot stepping/stamping campaign to get me to feed her breakfast before 8am.

After her hard won breakfast, she got up on the bed and promptly went back to sleep.

Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert Skewer the Recent Spate of Executive Orders

“The president sets men’s fashions and at the inauguration he wore an extra long tie and a dead animal on his head, thus…” and Jon Stewart waves at his own dead animal and extra long tie.

Best quote: “It has been 11 days, Stephen. Eleven *BLANK* Days! The presidency is supposed to age the President, not the public.”

Isn’t it rather ridiculous how the Republicans were all up in arms about Obama’s executive orders and wanted to limit the ability for future presidents to make said orders, but now that their own guy is ordering away it is silence from the formerly opposed? Funny that.

I would bet everything that I have that if Hilary were now president, the Congressional and Senate Republicans would have already passed through both chambers a law the limiting of executive orders by now.

The Power of a Few Well Placed Words to…

Truly it is amazing to see how the power of a few well placed words can completely transform a mundane sentence or tweet. In this case the words in question are in a tweet from Mr. N. Gaiman:

a dodgy Welsh henge salesman

from the following tweet:

I can just imagine a late neolithic slighty greasy dude in a tunic, torc, and wool cloak selling the nice folks of the future Wiltshire on this Great Henge, gently used, currently installed in Wales, that really will improve your Sex Life, your Crops, and Your Marriage. I swear on both of my bullocks before Lugh Silverhand and the Morrigan…

And a competing gem is from the Guardian article on Stonehenge that Mr. Gaiman is linking to, wherein the author likens Stonehenge unto Ikea:

“It’s the Ikea of Neolithic monument building. The nice thing about these particular outcrops is that the rock has formed 480 million years ago as pillars. So prehistoric people don’t have to go in there and bash away … All they have to do is get wedges into the cracks. You wet the wedge, it swells and the stone pops off the rock.”

Ranking the Months of the Year, via Scalzi

In a blog post today, a one Mr. John Scalzi ranked the months of the year and why. He then asked commenters to do the same.

Here is my comment:

Ms. Jen says:
October 1, 2015 at 9:56 pm

I live in SoCal and I don’t suffer from SADs but some opposite disorder where I get happier the darker it gets, so:

1) November : Thank all the possible deities that humanity has ever thought up, it is getting darker and the temps have dropped into the 70s.

2) December: OMG, best month of the year, we may have one actual day were a sweater is possibly needed. The horror is when all the young humans break out their UGG boots to wear with their sweater vests and short shorts.

3) February and March: The only real reason to live in SoCal/LA – Snow on Mt. Baldly with cool-ish, crisp-ish days makes the traffic somewhat bearable. Don’t get in a fender bender as you stare at the snow covered mountains while stuck on the freeway.

4) April: The return of the Santa Ana winds to bake all the lovely new spring green hills to a golden brown and the birthday type object.

5) October: On a good year this means slightly cooler temps and possible rain, on a bad year it means Fire Season.

6) January: As the trees finally lose the last of their old leaves, the new leaves are coming in along with pretty tree flowers, esp the Mume apricot/plums and the ornamental pear trees. The bad is the spate of 85-90F days that remind you that hell is coming down the road.

7) May and June: May Gray and June Gloom, if you have SADs this is when SoCal makes you want to slit your wrists, for others it just gets monotonous.

8) July: The marine layer retreats to San Francisco to join Karl the Fog and the hot, too bright days begin. Plus idiot neighbors blow things up all month long, too bad that they don’t synchronize with the 9:30pm Disneyland fireworks.

9) August: July plus 10F more heat. Blazing sun, no relief.

10) September: The most evil month of the year. The fish hurricanes off of Mexico contribute to 100+ temps and humidity, plus a good old fashion haze/smog layer. Poke eye balls out with toothpick while sitting in the A/C.

This year, September started at the end of June compliments of Super Duper El Nino.

Belle and the Skateboarder

Belle would like you to throw the ball... Belle le Cane, you have all seen her photo in one of my photo streams or you have met her in real life. Belle, the supermodel of small white dogs – all long legs, big luminescent brown eyes, soft fluffy white fur, irresistible ears, dewdrop nose in a dark brown pink, obedient, follows you everywhere, and oh so photogenic. You fell in love with her, but like with most hot bitches, there are a few downsides:

1) Belle has a coprophagia problem, in fact she farms the shit. She has been known to line up her own & Scruffy’s poop in the backyard and let it dry in rows before she consumes it if one does not get out there fast enough to pick the poop up and discard it in the trash bin.

2) Belle hates skateboards. She vehemently hates the sounds of skateboard and in-line skate wheels. She will run after the heinous screechy sound offender and attempt to attack. Yes, sixteen pounds of small white super-dog-model running at some gromet punk of a teenager on a wooden board on wheels. Bad combo.

Last night about 8:45pm, I was babysitting Lukas and I needed to go down to my car to get a usb cord to charge my tablet before it ran out of juice and my dearly beloved Kindle app turned off. I couldn’t leave Scruffy and Belle upstairs in Family B’s apartment, as mean little white dog angry presents would have been left. Given that we were just making a quick trip to the curb and back, and both of them are good, grown up dogs who can walk beside me for 30 feet without a leash, off we walked downstairs to the car.

As I opened the trunk of my car, Belle stood on her hind legs and peered in it hoping that the Chuck-It and ball would be brought out. I heard before I saw out of the corner of my eye a skateboarder coming down the middle of the street. It was a tall, thin 20-something young man with a large backpack on, a laptop bag under one arm with the other out in front of him for balance as he was riding one of those incongruently small skateboards that both of his feet could not fit on at the same time.

Hipster-skateboarder with a large backpack and a laptop bag leaving one of the digital agencies or post-production houses at the other end of the street. Poor thing, he probably works really long days trying to prove himself in the dog-eat-dog world of digital Los Angeles, riding his itty bitty skateboard to wherever at nearly 9pm, when a small white madly barking streak runs out into the street to disem-skateboard him.

The kid attempted to evade the mad dog but his feet were too big for the small board and off the board flew into the xeriscaped yard of the across the street neighbor, up went the kid’s feet in different directions as he attempted to clutch the laptop closer and protect his backpack’s contents, and on to his butt he fell in the middle of the street.

Belle sauntered back to me completely happy that the evil wheel noise had ceased and the young man was like a turned over turtle trying to right itself, which he did quickly as I admonished Belle and apologized repeatedly to him. He looked at both of us in surprise, and before I could offer to help, he grabbed his skateboard and ran down the opposite sidewalk, yelling that it was alright and he was alright.

Belle then peered into the back of the car looking for the Chuck-It and two SUVs passed us staring as the street was now clear. The kid rounded the corner and was gone. Belle was deeply disappointed that we were not going to play fetch with the Chuck-It in the dark.