Category Archives: Humor

Give a Lady a Break

 

I prefer showers, but evidently today is Read-in-the-Bathtub Day. (Sheesh) In honor of the day, Laura Hile is offering her book, Marrying Well for Fun and Profit for FREE. This book is all the wit and wisdom of Sir Walter Elliot collated one handy reference guide. If you’ve ever hesitated when confronted with a challenging social, ethical, or moral dilemma, let Sir Walter help you out!

 

Now, you can download this book for free today–links in the post and graphic–but I would adjure you to wait until Sunday when it goes back up to the budget blistering price of $.99. Why would I encourage you to spend when you can save? Because, I’m a nag. I am also passionate that a writer’s time is worth something. Even the paltry amount that a 99 cent books brings in.

I’m betting that in the last week you have blown a buck on something caffeinated, fizzy, sugary  or savory. You’ve lost more pocket change than that recently.

The point is, laughter is a great medicine and you can get this without having that walloping co-pay to worry over.

Pry open your coin purse, let the moths fly free, and spend some money so Laura Hile, can make a living and keep writing YOU great stories.

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It’s a Brave New Amazonian World

No, we’re not doing this kind of painting, but isn’t this neat? And odd. (Gizmondo.com.au)

So, Tuesday I ordered a simple, hand-held paint sprayer. Nothing fancy or elegant, but serviceable and in keeping with our station in life. I, of course, ordered it from Amazon because … you know. Anyway, it was supposed to be delivered to an Amazon Locker yesterday. My husband would pick it up on the way home from work in the wee hours of the morning so we could begin the mistification of paint early this morning.

Not happening. If you haven’t heard, Amazon has decided to start it’s own, in-house delivery system. For nearly two decades UPS has been bringing my Amazon stuff and I was happy. There was that one Big Bang Theory DVD that got crushed in the teeth of a conveyor belt and UPS sent it along anyway, but I called Amazon, they sent a new one, relationship reestablished. Nary a hitch since.

I love a mystery so I have been clicking and checking all the info on my order. Here’s what I know: if you’re part of the brave new Amazonian experiment, you will see the code, AMZL US in the tracking code for your order. From all the reviews I’ve read, particularly on Reddit, beware.

All this is annoying because there is a gargantuan Amazon warehouse within spitting distance of the locker. (Disclaimer: Put down the hand sanitizer for there is no actual spitting involved.This is not a measurement recognized by the U. S. Weights and Measures types, but a dated expression that means close by.)

I’m betting if some enterprising troop were to fire up a delivery drone, the engine wouldn’t even get warmed up whizzing it over to said locker.

Photo of the new Amazon delivery fleet courtesy of WIKI COMMONS

So, I wait. If this is the direction that Amazon is going with customer service, I’m rethinking my dependence on them. Meanwhile, if you see this guy out and about, send him my way. Please.

Not so bad after all

 

We were watching Storage Wars the other day. Lots of odd topics come up in the course of a show like that.

MOM: You just know that one smells to high heaven.

ME: Yeah, it was the last load and everything got chucked in in a hurry. And then mice got into everything.

You  know that smell, the scent of human sadness.

♠♣♥♦

There was supposed to be a graphic of a storage unit spilling out its pitiable contents and the last line was supposed to be the pithy end of this post.

The VAST majority of photos available are either rusted scrape metal and outdoor junk, or tidy units that don’t serve my purpose at all. *sigh* Maybe the human race isn’t as sad as I thought!

Here’s nice summer pic instead:

Have a good one, people!

The Plague has Moved On

or at least I hope so. We all have had the crud of various stripes and colors. My hope is that after a double dose of Nyquil tonight any lingering sludge will clear out.

vbpTo give life a lift after my near-death experience, I decided to watch Very British Problems on Netflix. Here’s a link to some of the episodes on Channel 4.

It’s clear that I could be dropped into any British city and go native without much ado.

That must be why I don’t fit.

Actually, this show just proves we are all misfits in whatever setting we may find ourselves.

A word of caution, Series 2 is a more willing discuss the occasional intimacy–which kinds of undoes some of the things said in Series 1. Series 1 is a tad vulgar in that randy Brit sort of way and pretty safe.

I write like …

and

I put a section of writing containing FW’s pov, and a section of Anne’s pov into the window. So, I write FW like King and Anne like Christie.

Interesting.

Try it: I Write Like

The Exact Science of Life

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There were problems with everything swimming at the Rio Olympics. Swimmers aside, after a week of green water, spokesman Mario Andrada said: “We have learnt that chemistry is not an exact science.”

Now that’s funny.

Apparently, telling the truth is a bit mercurial as well.

Blame_it_on_rio

.

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I guess this is now a full-fledged life choice.

An Observation

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Mum old man taps bell.
Barely a sound calls help.
Mumness surrounds him.

 

 

We are to blog as writers so that we have a platform. We create a platform so that people find us and read our books. They read our books, we make a living, and the cycle continues.

Except when you hit days like today.

The above lame haiku came about because I was going to describe a trip to the store last week. Down and dirty: Dollar Store. Checkers restocking, checkout empty. Bell on belt for service. Older man gets there before me. I ask him to ring. Startle him. Tiny voice says, okay. His ring is as tiny as his voice. Checker comes and all’s well that ends well.

I was going to observe that people resemble their noticeable traits. He was small, stooped, took up little space. His voice was tiny. His ring of the bell was light, barely noticeable.

Writing that was taking up too much time because I’m a wordy old blowhard. I searched for a picture of an older man to go with the  post so I could shorten it. Couldn’t find a pic of a frail old man so chose to go with a writing prompt of a weird pic I DID find.

Nothing worth reading.

Wrote the above, lame haiku to post. Found a pic of a desk bell to go with lame haiku above.

That took nearly two hours.

Thank the Lord I wrote earlier today and got something real accomplished.

Unless reading this, and seeing that other people have to wade through useless effort,  helps you. Then it’s not a waste. <smile>

However this day shakes out, Happy Tuesday!