AM I THE ONLY ONE? Random Thoughts

1- (For all of you who know who T.I. is)

   Whenever I see T.I, I think chocolate Elvis, chocolate Elvis. Am I the only one? Come on. Think back to young, young Elvis Presley. “Viva Las Vegas” Elvis. Now visualize that baby face Elvis with a really good tan. What do you get when you do that? T.I.! Yes, you do. I can’t be the only one who thinks this.

 2- Every time I want to say Law and Order: SVU, I always have to think Special Victims Unit so that I don’t say SUV instead. Law and Order: SUV? Uh, yeah, that’s a special show about the terrible things that happen to SUVs on the mean streets of New York. Sure. :) 

3- How many of you have gone into a TD Bank just to get one of their free pens? Is that wrong? You have to admit the ink quality in them is quite good.

THREE SHEETS, WIND AND SODA?

“Three sheets to the wind- means drunk. Three sheets to (or in) the wind is a nautical expression. If three sheets, which are the ropes holding the sails rather than the sails themselves, are loose and blowing about then the boat will lurch about like a drunken sailor. Dickens uses it in  Dombey and Son.”

   First, I got the above information online a long time ago, but I don’t remember the name of the site that offered the info. Second, I’ve never read the above mentioned Dombey and Son by Dickens. So please don’t ask me about Dombey and Son. You can ask me about Sanford and Son though. That was a funny show? I wonder if Dombey liked his son more than Sanford like his. Anyway, I digress.

   With that said, I can also now admit that I’ve never been three sheets to any wind. I’ve never even been two pillow cases to the moon. I’ve never even been slightly buzzed. I’m an enigma really. I’m a well over twenty-one year old ginger ale gal. Next to ginger ale, the strongest thing I’ve ever drunk has been Pepsi. Ice cold Pepsi can burn the lining of your throat and offer you one of those mini brain freezes if you’re not careful. Other than those kind of side effects, I’ve never experienced the hangover delight after so-called drunken enjoyment that most people have experienced.

   Oh, my friends have tried to tempt me. I attend their parties and find myself being wary of cherry flavored squares of gellatin because I’m forewarned that they are jello shots. Who ever heard of spiking jello? Is nothing sacred?

   Actually, I have great friends who are more than understanding of their always sober friend. If they’re serving cocktails, there are always virgin alternatives for me and always without fail a nice liter of ginger ale on ice in my honor.

   They allow me to be the designated spectator of interesting games like Beer Pong. Beer Pong is a game in which people play against each other by throwing little plastic balls into cups half filled with beer that are positioned on opposite sides of a long table. (Yes, this is a real game. I did not make this up.) If you get your ball into one of your opponent’s cups, your opponent must, according to the laws of the intoxicated, drink the beer from that cup. This is truly a game of skill. Not everyone has good throwing ability you understand. The little, plastic balls often miss their targets and end up on the floor, in bushes or doggie bowls. It’s all right. It’s all part of the game.

  What’s a little doogie bowl contact amongst friends, right? You can always rinse off the balls in a bowl of water that is usually kept nearby. However, once you’re fully into the game, you may forget to change the bowl water, but who cares about germs or a little dirt in the beer, right? Right. Because it’s Miller time, baby, and you have to just go with the flow.

   So why don’t I ever roll with that flow? What’s my problem with alcohol? Nothing really. Okay, maybe the whole loss of inhibitions doesn’t really appeal to me. I have to admit I like being in control of my actions, thoughts and bodily functions. And to be totally honest, I don’t really need a stimulant to loosen up and enjoy myself. I’m often surprised by how many people do seem to need such stimulants.

   Why do they need them? Well, it just seems easier to unwind, act a fool if necessary or work up the nerve to socialize if you know that in the end, you can blame anything you do on alcohol. Think about it. If you ever wanted to cut loose and dance on someone’s coffee table in your underwear while sober, you would be called an idiot. Try that after a few drinks, and you become the funny, life of the party.

   As long as you don’t go overboard, it’s all good fun. But us non-sheets to the winders have our own incentive, too. It’s a little known fact, but there is a sense of interesting power that can be attained from sobriety.

   Only the sober will recall the tributes to the 80s or 90s Gumby dance that tries to come back into fashion after a couple of margaritas have been sampled. Only the non-inebriated will remember the Demi Moore striptease attempts from a former wall flower after some shots of jagermeister.

   Therefore, let’s cheer for the dear soda gals. Hurray, for a soda gal, for she will always drive you home no matter how much you puke in her car. And she will also hold your hair back without a word as you pay homage to the grand toilet bowl god once you get to said home just as long as you keep the ginger ale chilled and quit spiking her jello!   

Letters? Really?

   It’s 2012. People can text, Twitter, share their lives on Facebook and You Tube, and I have a pen pal. Pen pal. Yes, really. I have a person who I write letters to. Letters, you know those long notes written on paper that start off with salutations like Dear so-and-so and end with Sincerely, Me so-and-so. It must seem like an ancient practice to write letters instead of typing on a computer and then hitting the Send button. I write with an actual pen on paper, stick the paper into an envelope, put a stamp on the envelope and mail the sucker out into a blue thingy called a mailbox.

   Maybe it’s the writer in me, but everything just seems more interesting in a letter. You have the reader’s complete attention. There are no pesky scrolling advertisements or Chatroom reminders popping up to serve as distractions. In a letter, I can express with reckless abandon just how it felt to walk to the laundromat, pass by trees along the way, step on a crack without breaking my mother’s back, put my clothes into a washing machine and walk away from the machine instead of stare at the swirling action inside it for 30 minutes until the clothes are clean.

   (Why do people stare at washing machines? Whenever I go to the laundromat, I always see people staring blankly at washing machines. It’s not TV. It’s not a stimulating display activated to serve as entertainment. The swirling action won’t ever change its direction. It’s going to swirl in a clockwise motion until it’s done. I swear. If you look away, it’s not going to suddenly spin all counter-clockwise on you. Trust me. So kindly stop staring at washing machines! I’m serious. I hate it when I see people doing that. It creeps me out. It looks like they’re obsessed or something. They’re in some sort of trance and while they’re in this weird state, something odd happens that causes socks all around to come out as singles instead of in pairs the way they originally went in.)

   But I digress. Back to letter writing. I write letters to fill pages with sincere hellos, this is what I did, this is the real me in print (or script or cursive, however you like to say it) for you to read about and no one else. (Unless you decide to show the letter to someone else which I’m sure is in direct violation of pen pal etiquette. Or not. I don’t know.) I do know that when I tried to upgrade the form of correspondence with my pen pal to texting, it came out like this............

“Hi. How r u? I’m ok. ttyl”

  Somehow that didn’t feel as eloquent as the four page letter it replaced.

POLITICIAN VS NORMAL PERSON

 

  Why can’t politicians speak plain English? It’s as if they’ve all been trained in the fine art of speaking in a special, nonsensical politician code so that they never have to answer a question directly.

   Having a conversation with a politician is like this...

NORMAL PERSON: Is it raining outside?

POLITICIAN: You know, precipitation comes in many forms. It can come frozen like snow. Snow is cold. When it accumulates, you can make a snowman? Should you take snowman making classes before you attempt to make one or should you just dive into the process? There are many factors involved with precipitation.

NORMAL PERSON: Uh, okay, but do I need an umbrella?

POLITICIAN: Umbrellas keep you dry when it rains. They protect you. They provide a service by protecting you from the rain just like public officials provide a service to the people. I work for the people as a representative of the people. So in a sense, I’m kind of like a political umbrella for the people.

NORMAL PERSON: Do I need a political umbrella because it’s raining?

POLITICIAN: Hey, we all could argue the point of whether or not a political umbrella is needed at some point in all of our lives.

NORMAL PERSON: Listen! I just want to know if water is coming out of the sky! Can you tell me that? Is water coming out of the sky?  

POLITICIAN: You know, water is made up of more than one component. You have your

hydrogen and you have oxygen. They both have to unite and work as a team to give you H20. Working together. That’s the basis of teamwork. Teamwork is what we should all strive for.

NORMAL PERSON: IS IT RAINING OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW? YES OR NO? JUST YES OR NO!

POLITICIAN: Yes or no equals the affirmative and the negative. The affirmative is the opposite of negative. Thusly, they conflict with one another. If they conflict, they don’t agree. And if they don’t agree, they can’t be united. If they can’t be united, they can’t work as a team. The teamwork would not exist amongst them.

NORMAL PERSON: All right. My head hurts now. I’m just gonna go outside. I don’t care if it’s hailing out there.

POLITICIAN: Hey, wait! Can I count on your vote in the next election?

NORMAL PERSON: You know, a vote is like rain. Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it doesn’t. If it rains, and you have a lawn, then that’s good for your grass. If you don’t have a lawn, then you just get wet.

POLITICIAN: That means no doesn’t it?

NORMAL PERSON: You’re a very wise political umbrella.      

Random Thought

I don't have a smartphone. Nowadays, it seems as if everyone has a smartphone, but I don't have a smartphone. My cell phone allows me to call people, and people can call me. So I guess it's not a complete moron.

ME, MY BOOK AND THE ROBBER by Patricia G

   If a robber came to my home, and I caught him trying to steal my stuff, I’d say,

ME: Hey, you don’t live here!

ROBBER: I know that. I’m taking your stuff.

ME: You can’t have my stuff!

ROBBER: Why not?

ME: Because it’s not your stuff. You just admitted that it’s my stuff. Wait. Are you taking my vase that was on my table?

ROBBER: Yeah.

ME: That vase was next to a copy of my book. How come you didn’t take my book?

ROBBER: Vases are more valuable than dumb old books.

ME: Hey, that’s not just any book. That’s my book. I wrote it.

ROBBER: You’re a writer?

ME: Yes, and I wrote that book. It’s called Funny?: A Potentially Humorous Collection of Writing and Art, and it’s more valuable than some old vase.

ROBBER: Oh yeah?

ME: Yeah, because it has sentimental value. Sentimental value outranks retail value any day.

ROBBER: Really?

ME: Darn right. How dare you insult me by not trying to steal my book?

ROBBER: Oh, uh...I’m sorry?

ME: Are you asking me if you’re sorry?

ROBBER: I’m not sure. I’m kinda confused now. See, I just came here to rob you blind. I wasn’t tryin’ to insult you.

ME: Well, you did.

ROBBER: Oh. Sorry then.

ME: Your apology means nothing to me. You’re still holding that vase instead of my book.

ROBBER: (puts vase back and picks up book to read its cover) Funny?: A Potentially Humorous Collection of Writing and Art by Patricia G. Are you Patricia G?

ME: Of course, I am. I just told you I wrote that book.

ROBBER: Why is there a question mark after the word funny?

ME: Because I wasn’t sure if people would think my book was funny or not. So I’m sort of asking the reader if he or she thinks it’s funny.

ROBBER: Oh, that’s clever.

ME: Really?

ROBBER: Yeah. This cartoon on the cover is cute. Did you draw it?

ME: Yes, I did. Thank you. Glad you like it.

ROBBER: I never met a real writer before. So you wouldn’t mind if I took this book?

ME: Not as long as you post a book review of it on Amazon.com. Oh, wait. Maybe that won’t be possible.

ROBBER: Why not?

POLICE OFFICER: (pounds on the front door): Open up! It’s the police!

ME: (To Robber) I called 911 earlier when I heard you fumbling around in my living room. You really ought to get some quieter shoes.

ROBBER: Oh shoot.

ME: But hey, if they have Internet access in jail, can I count on a book review?

ROBBER: Guess so. Amazon.com?

ME: Yep. Thanks a lot. 

     

Something I didn't put in Funny?

    For those of you who will or already have read my book, Funny?: A Potentially Humorous Collection of Writing and Art, there is a character in it named Little Jackie. She’s the little girl on the cover of the book who likes to speak her mind when given the chance. Below is an extra bit of Little Jackie that I didn’t end up using in Funny?.

LITTLE JACKIE (extra)

My name is Little Jackie.

I am five years old. Yay!

When I dream about cookies,

I always seem to have a good day.

One night I dreamt about chocolate chip cookies.

Tasty and chewy

I love them.

Yes, I do.

When I woke up, I got hugs and kisses from my mommy,

and my daddy took us to the zoo.

Another night, I dreamt of sugar cookies.

Sweet and yummy

I could eat them all day.

When I woke up, I didn’t have to hear my baby brother’s constant crying.

I got to go to my grandma’s house to play.

Last night I dreamt of a turtle.

He was slow and quiet.

He took forever to walk from one tree to another tree.

When I woke up, I went to Pre K, told my class that my grandma was once a stripper

and then ended up being sent to children’s therapy.    

LITTLE JACKIE MOTHER’S DAY

Mommies are nice.

They give kisses and hugs.

Mommies give love

even when you accidentally spill juice on their rugs.

Mommies are lovable.

They like to hear thank you and please.

Mommies are my favorite

coming in third after dads who give out allowances and chocolate chip cookies