My Facebook friends often comment on the humor in my posts. Who could not use a little humor? So I sat down today and pulled the most responded-to, most Erma Bombeck-inspired posts from 2016. I hope they will make you smile.
“Your Facebook posts are so funny. And I’m learning there’s a predictable group of people who respond to you.”
Me: “Yes. That’s my cast of characters.”
Y’all know who you are–and you ARE characters!
Gated Chip in the kitchen. Turned on Adele’s Hello (from the other side). He does not appear nearly as amused as I am.
I need a paraffin dip. Okay, tell the truth. Who’s surprised that I know what that is? (I did go to culinary school, ya know!)
We’ve all known for some time that I live in my own world. Now, apparently, I’ve also lost my grip on it!
I ransacked the kitchen to find Gorilla Glue to fix the broken handle of my favorite coffee mug. All I found was a bottle of OFF from last summer. I don’t need OFF. The handle is already OFF. I need some ON.
Me: “WHAT are you doing?”
Deb from the other room: “What? Why?”
Me: “What is this tippy tippy toe–CRASH, tippy tippy toe, CRASH?”
Deb: “Oh. Sorry. I’ll stop.”
Me: “The tippy tippy toe part or the crash part?”
Deb: “Guess you’ll find out.”
How does this help me?
Deb: “Why did you turn the burner off under this pan?”
Me: “Because it was smoking.” Pause. “And I’m not wearing my smoking jacket.”
Silence.
Me: “Why do you ask me these things? Admit it–you like these answers!”
While checking on a drink mix from the fridge, to see if it’s ok. Smells ok. Has alcohol in it, so I’m assuming it’s ok. I pour a little into a cup to taste it.
Deb: “You’re not drinking THAT, are you?”
Me, trying sound appalled: “No! Of course I’m not drinking THAT! Are you crazy?” Sip. Sip.
Deb, peeking over my shoulder, “Well, what ARE you drinking?”
Me, very innocently, “THAT.”
After this, she didn’t seem to have much interest in conversing with me.
Ok. I admit it. I am afraid of things that go Trump in the night.
Rut ro! Letterman accused Trump of pandering. I love that term. Pandering. Here’s two panders right now.
“While you’re at Trader Joe’s, pick up those coconut things in the nut section.” Me: “Usually, wherever I’m standing IS the nut section.”
Pause.
Kate: “You have a point there.”
Deb: “So when you saw Jesus driving up the street yesterday, what was he driving?” Me: “A VW Jetta. Not what I pictured.” Deb: “What did you picture?” Me: “That he’d be driving a VW micro-bus and smoking weed.” Deb: “Yeah. He’d need at least the micro-bus to drive around with his undisclosed number of Apostrophes.” Indeed.
Deb: “I have to practice this presentation in my office, so if you hear me talking to myself…”
Me: “It’s cute that you think I’d be able to tell the difference between that and any other day.”
Loud sigh from the other room. My work here is done.
My next retirement plan: create a mental health non-crisis center. If people are already having a crisis, why should they come in for a second one? I think coming in to a non-crisis center is much more appealing.
While getting my hair cut:
Jen, putting her glasses on: “Here…have a seat…I got my glasses all nice and clear…crystal clear…so I can make sure all of your hair is perfect.”
Me: “Good. How’s my hat?”
Jen: “Oh. You’re wearing a hat?”
Words of wisdom from my sister:
“Sometimes ya just gotta focus on the one bright spot in your day. For YOU, it’s this phone call with me right now.”
And now, if you would all join me for a special musical TBT moment….Whitney Houston’s popular 80’s tune that became the smash lesbian theme song–Climb Every Woman.
Adele lyrics misheard:
I miss you when the lights go out, it illuminates all my doubts
Pull me in, hold me tight
Don’t let go, baby, give me…lice???
Hey, Adele? No. Just no.
From that chapter in my life When Butches Cook….while rifling through the freezer…I know I just bought a bag of raspberries. What did I do with them? Oh yes. I filed them alphabetically on the freezer door downstairs. Right next to the paintbrush!
The question of paint samples–if I put this new color on the wall and I like, does that commit me to painting the whole wall that color? And if I don’t like it, am I committed to painting the whole wall with the old color to cover it up? I believe this paint commitment question may be a form of home-ophobia, the fear of home ownership.
After a week of rain, everyone mowed today. The whole street has that scalped, 1950’s-Dad’s-practice-run-with-the-clippers-on-the-first-unfortunate-kid-who-wandered-by look.
Somewhere in a parallel universe, there’s a bug version of Criminal Minds playing out and investigators are standing over dismembered centipedes saying, “Given this level of overkill, this is clearly the work of a centipeda-cidal maniac.” Yes. Arrest me now.
Dear Shriners, I would be tempted to buy one of those bags of onions if you promised that every onion was wearing its own tiny little fez cause that would be too precious.
Dropped Chip’s insulin and broke the bottle. Asking him to lie down in the puddle and roll around in it is just not having the same effect as actually putting it in his skin.
From my Salvation Army Shelter days. Me, on the non-emergency line for the Syracuse police: “The Adirondack rocking chairs were stolen off the front porch.” Police dispatcher: “Did you get a description of the person who took them?” Me, slowly: “Yyyyyeahh…he was the guy walking down Kirk Ave with two Adirondack rocking chairs. Hard to miss.”
I was so under-appreciated during that phone call.
At the trans health conference. For the last 3 days, I have shared gender neutral restrooms with male-identified people, female-identified people, trans-masculine people, trans-feminine people, gender queer people, gender neutral people, gender fluid people, gender fucking people, and non-binary people. Ya know what happened in those bathrooms? People peed. Washed their hands. Checked their hair. Straightened their clothing. I know. It’s crazy, isn’t it?
Considering seal coating the driveway. The seals cannot be reached for comment.
I have Poptart crumbs in my baseball cap. Seriously. No, that’s not a euphemism.
Working on a script for a new TV show based on my culinary school adventures, Game of Scones.
I told the cat about writing Game of Scones.
Chip sports a bone shaped tag that says he is diabetic. He hasn’t gotten lost so anyone would need to know, but it has made several bartenders stop questioning if he’d been over-served. No, he’s always like that.
Trimmed the evergreens this morning. Thought I got them all nice and even until I was backing down the driveway and noticed a tall, spiky piece that I missed, on the back center of each shrub. Yes! I have a line up of Alfalfas in front of the house now.
The best line of the day–while coming out of having lunch. My friend Susan: “Well, lunch with you did not disappoint AND my Depends worked perfectly!”
Glad to hear it!
Left the laundry on the line a little too long the other day and picked up a couple of hitchhiking June bugs. “Excuse me, sir. Is that a June bug making your pants buzz or are you just happy to see me?”
Bought new basil plants. Accidentally dropped them in my bike helmet when I got in the car. Well. That’ll be interesting. Maybe I’ll smell better or repel mosquitoes naturally!
“Wow. I can’t remember the last time I had a beer in a can. This must be what my father felt like while he was drinking….at a lesbian concert. Cause you know he did.”
Giggles all around!
The difference between having a dog and having a cat: When the dog is in the way, you look down and say, “Move over.” And he wags his tail, smiles at you for talking to him, then he gets up and moves three inches to the side so he can still be close to you. When the cat is in the way, you look down and say, “Move over,” and he looks you right in the eye, lays his ears back, attaches himself to the carpet with his claws like a kitty shaped barnacle and bites you when you try to pick him up.
Today’s observation, hanging out with another social work foodie. “Empaths are the tofu of the emotional world.”
Was there ever any question?
Ahem. me-me-me-me-me…”Everybody have fun tonight. Everybody wang chung tonight…” I suspect some of you will be better at that than others.
As a kid growing up in the 80s, it’s entirely possible that my view of physical attractiveness was skewed by a single movie. I have now lost track of how many women I have poured a bucket of water on and not only didn’t any of them look like Jennifer Beals when I was done, some of them got really annoyed.
Deb, peeking under the sink: “How come there’s no oven cleaner and four cans of bug spray?”
Me: “Hey–it was a rough spring. Lots of bugs! Big ones! I came home one day and there were several bugs cleaning the oven. They must have used up the oven cleaner.”
Aaaaand silence.
Just imagine my surprise when I yelled, “Expecto Patronum,” earlier this week and my patronus turned out to be Cloris Leachman on Dancing with the Stars!
Best one-liner of the week. While talking to the office manager at the Unitarian Church, I reached into my pocket and found a roll of doggy clean up bags I didn’t know I was carrying. I extended them to Sheri.
“Dog bag?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “No thanks. I’m trying to quit.”
When we both couldn’t talk because we were laughing too hard, it was time for me to leave.
Well played, Sheri!
Things that make me go hmmm at 3 am. In the big Monopoly game of life, what if I really AM the shoe?
I tried a new process for laundry this weekend, but every time I opened the dryer door and the Sorting Hat shouted, “Gryffindor!”, it scared me.
The best part of my BFF explaining Pokemon to me–
Me, looking intently at her phone screen: “And why can’t you do that?”
Kate, patiently: “Cause I don’t have enough balls.”
Pause.
Me: “Now there’s a sentence that I’ve never used to describe you.”
The good news: I figured out what my spirit animal is.
The bad news: I think it’s rabid.
This was the best thing I got to say last night: “We will NOT stand by while walls are built. We have been doing this almost twenty years. Youth Outlook has already raised an entire generation of young people who will dismantle that wall, repurpose into a place where we can go for brunch and fly a rainbow flag off the top of it!”
I’ve noticed several posts from friends about “Don’t skip leg day in your routine” recently. Until today I wasn’t sure how to go about sharing my morning routine with my legs, but now that I have poured coffee in my pockets, I think I have it figured out and I appreciate your support.
Found myself whispering to my Keurig this morning, “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.” Don’t judge.
As a career, social work is messy. It’s hectic. Anxiety-producing. Sometimes you don’t have time for lunch or even to run to the restroom. It’s painful. People you care about hurt. You might hurt. You will have days when you can barely breathe through sadness. You will also feel joy. And connection. And pride. And passion. Then you’ll realize you still have to pee and you’re hungry.
Welcome to social work!
I was just telling my friend Rick that I am a big Penzey’s fan and I used to tour with the Spice Girls. They called me Testy Spice. I got separated from my group. I miss those wild kids. My seat mate on the tour bus was a former PE teacher. We called her Old Spice.
(Thanksgiving morning.) For my first act this morning, I dropped a five lb container of flour, causing it to explode in a dust cloud as I stood there, unable to see through the layer on my glasses with three Black Labs blinking rapidly at me, all of whom looked like they had put their foundation on wrong. It’s gonna be a good day!
I didn’t like the look of the turkey once I poked the first hole in the skin to get a temperature on it but once I slapped that fentanyl patch over it to hide the mark…wow…the guests never even noticed…and now that they’re all awake again, they’ve been only complimentary!
Mixed up the test strips from Petco and Ancestry.com. Apparently Mylo is all Irish and I’m one-quarter wiener dog.
Planning a rewrite of Broadways musicals using an all reptilian cast. Starting with Sweeney Toad.
C’mon. You saw that coming, right?
Shoulda known something was up when I wanted an Easy Bake Oven not to make brownies but to make my first Napoleon. My father promptly brought me a very short man with a funny hat and asked if that would suffice. He was good like that.
Me, singing at work in NY: “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve been…”
Sue: “You mean *seen*.”
Me: “No, not really.”
Coming out of the Godiva Chocolate store–
Karen: “I couldn’t tell which one was your truffle.”
Me: “Oh, don’t worry, I can tell.”
Karen: “It’s easier now, yours is the one with the teeth marks on it!”
Wishing you much laughter and silliness~
