Spent many an hour trapped, I mean, strapped in that seat. ♦
Cut & paste these instructions in your own blog:
Tell who ‘tagged’ you.
Write your own 6 weird things or habits.
List the people you’re going to tag (you can’t tag the person who tagged you).
Leave them a message saying “TAG … Read my blog.”
I was tagged by Flower of Fire. YAY!
6 Weird Things | Habits … why is this so difficult?! I’m part weirdo, Gonzo’s one of the uncles, I swear (Muppet reference), and yet, the darndest thing, I can’t easily come up with some weirdness to share. Even asked Bean, because if anyone’s gonna have the lowdown on my inner and outer weirdness, it’s gonna be her. Our minds must be melded, though because she came up with the very list that I did. So, here goes:
1. I beg my sister to see nearly every horror movie released with me (I know, garbage in/garbage out), but then I watch with my eyes covered for a majority of the movie. Instead I watch her watch it and ask her what’s happening and then I ask her, “What?! How can you look at that? Don’t watch that!”
2. Bean and I should so go work for Sesame Street! We do voices for a bevy of stuffed and plastic critters in our home on a daily basis. They have “conversations.” “Critters” being a plastic doll named Boo from that movie Monsters Inc., a duplicate doll called Boo II (why we have two is beyond me), a stuffed version of Boo (see a pattern here?) named Nubu, as in “New Boo” since she was the third to arrive. The original Boo wasn’t havin’ it, though, a “new” Boo, that is, hence the modified spelling of “Nubu.” Bean was fairly obsessed with the Boo character to say the very least! And of course, there’s Bean’s dog, a 22 year old stuffed toy beagle (Snoopy’s sister, Belle), and lastly, so as to bring me into her dementia (and I happily followed) she bought me a stuffed dog she named Nesbit Humperdink, Nez for short. Just last week, I suggested that we give puppet performances come summertime, considering our deck looks out over the playground.
3. I pepper french fries. I pepper vanilla ice cream.
4. Last year I had 43 candles in my bedroom, dispersed along little shelves on the wall, downsized to 23. Now, I have a paultry 7 sinced I moved. A handsome 7 they are, though!
5. I accidentally superglued my hands together, fingertip to fingertip.
6. I look forward to my bottle of rubber cement collecting semi-dried bits of cement at the mouth of the bottle because then I can smoosh the round blobs of gooeyness between my fingers like clay. Completely delightful!
I WILL TAG:
This morning, I was pulling out of a parking spot and was just about to pull forward and head out to the road when I hear this horrendous goose-honk-sound and look up just in time to see a goose belly flying low, barely skimming my windshield. A goose buzzed me in my little car! Glad I was in it, in fact. What if he’d come along just moments before I’d hopped in? Gotta say, he had really pretty (hmm, or her, perhaps? A gander?) belly feathers!
Happy April Fool’s Day! YAY! Such a fun day. I really hoped to foil someone’s desk at work this year, but nope, didn’t. Was reading up a bit on April foolery from years’ past and came across one of my favorite little stories. The one about the spaghetti trees …
Back in ’57, there was a British news show that broadcast a segment about a spaghetti harvest in Switzerland. The show’s highly respected anchor, discussed the details of the spaghetti crop while airing footage of a rural Swiss family pulling pasta off spaghetti trees and placing it into baskets.
“The spaghetti harvest here in Switzerland is not, of course, carried out on anything like the tremendous scale of the Italian industry,” The audience was told. “Many of you, I’m sure, will have seen pictures of the vast spaghetti plantations in the Po valley. For the Swiss, however, it tends to be more of a family affair. A reason why this may be a bumper year lies in the virtual disappearance of the spaghetti weevil, the tiny creature whose depradations have caused much concern in the past.”
The anchor continued, “The uniform length of the pasta is the result of many years of patient endeavor by past breeders who succeeded in producing the perfect spaghetti. The last two weeks of March are an anxious time for the spaghetti farmer. There’s always the chance of a late frost which, while not entirely ruining the crop, generally impairs the flavor and makes it difficult for him to obtain top prices in world markets.” He concluded with, “For those who love this dish, there’s nothing like real, home-grown spaghetti.”
The BBC received hundreds of calls from puzzled viewers. Did spaghetti really grow on trees? Others were eager to learn how they could grow their own spaghetti tree. The idea for the segment was dreamed up by one of the broadcast’s cameramen, who said the idea occurred to him when he remembered one of his teachers chiding him for being “so stupid he’d believe spaghetti grew on trees.”
So, there you have it. Spaghetti trees. I’m a pasta fiend! Wish they were for real, I’d own two.
Oh, yeah, and, BUMCRACK!
See, Shan, told ya I’d “bumcrack” the place out for ya! I miss yer pretty face on here. That’s okay, though, I’ll take seeing you in person anyday. ♦