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Where did my brain go?
Posted by doggonedmysteries
My brain went on a vacation. However, it did leave several voice mails for me.
Message 1: “Um, hello? Geez, I hate voicemail. Anyway, this is your brain. I’m going on vacation. I hear that Hawaii doesn’t have snow.”
Message 2: “It’s me again. You know. Your brain? I just wanted to let you know I forgot to put coffee on the grocery list, you might want to do that.”
Message 3: “Just arrived in Honolulu. It’s a balmy 71. I hear it’s supposed to hit 81 this afternoon. Enjoy the snow. Neener neener neener.”
I threw my cell phone against the wall. If my brain wants to be nasty about it, I won’t listen to my voicemail.
I received a strange E-mail. “This is your brain in Hawaii. It’s sunny and warm. Did the next snow storm hit yet?”
There were pictures too. My brain sitting on the beach sipping on a Mai Tai. (It had better make sure it showers off all that sand. There’s nothing worse than sand in the crevices.) My brain at a luau doing the hula. (Don’t ask it isn’t pretty.) Then there’s the picture of my brain at the pineapple farm. (Great, I’m allergic to pineapple so now I’ll be itchy.)
I hate my brain.
Posted in Misc, My blog, Weather related, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, comedy, Craft of writing, Crafts, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, funny, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Snow, Writer, Writing
Psst, Phil. Dere’s a contract out on youse
Posted by doggonedmysteries
The phone rang. I answered it. A strange, gravelly voice on the other end of the line threw chills down my spine.
“Youse wanted a contract?”
“What?” I pulled the phone from my ear for a second and peered at it as if I could see whom it was that asked me such an odd question.
“I heard youse wanted to put out a contract on some guy called Phil. I’m your guy.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. I don’t know anyone called Phil. Wait. Is this a joke? Did Jackie put you up to this?”
“C’mon lady. I don’t know any Jackie an’ I ain’t joking wid youse. Ricky Da Nose tol’ me today you wanted somebody to off dis Punksadohicky Phil guy,” he growled.
“Do you mean Punxsutawney Phil?”
“Yeah, dat guy.”
“It’s too late.”
“What, did someone beat me to da contract?”
“No. It’s simply too late. He already saw his shadow.”
“Whaddaya mean by dat? He croak?”
“Yeah. He croaked.”
“Damn, I coulda used da money.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Well, if youse needs ta have anybody else offed, you call me. I’ll do it fer cheap.”
“I’ll do that.”
Posted in Misc, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, comedy, Craft of writing, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, funny, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Snow, Writer, Writing
I wish I’d thought of that!
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Once again, I was disqualified from my neighborhoods"Best Decorated House" contest due to my bad attitude!
This may offend some people but it cracked me up!
Posted in hobbies, Holidays, Misc
Tags: Author, Bad holiday lighting, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, comedy, Craft of writing, Crafts, Dead, Disability, Dog humor, Doggoned, Dogs, Family, Fiction, funny, Holidays, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
How many ways can you say crazy?
Posted by doggonedmysteries
Tonight a friend of mine (Jackie) and I were discussing the many ways you can say crazy. There were the old stand bys of one sandwich shy of a picnic, his elevator doesn’t go to the top (some even say it hasn’t left the ground floor), the lights are on, but nobody is home. Then she hit me with ‘her cheese has slid off her cracker’ and I fell on the floor.
It was downhill from there. We got worse. They came swiftly nuttier than a fruitcake, one step short of Bedlam, and answering the cuckoo. He’s one taco short of a combo plate, one brick short of a load, one egg roll short of a PuPu platter. His rocket is not working on all thrusters.
And worse. She’s such an air head, that the only thing that keeps things from going in one ear and out the other, is the “For Rent” sign in the middle. He is a few fries short of a happy meal. He has verbal diarrhea and mental constipation. I think her sewing machine is out of thread. Some drink from the fountain of knowledge, but he just gargled.
Have you any to add?
Posted in Misc, My blog, Writer, Writing
Tags: Author, Beads, Bones, books, Books on writing, Bull Terriers, Care giving, Caregiver, Coffee, comedy, Craft of writing, Crafts, Dead, Disability, Doggoned, Family, Fiction, funny, Home, Humor, Life, Love, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Murder, Mysteries, Mystery, Novel writing, Writer, Writing
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