Tag Archives: humor

Thinking is Good, but Don’t Think too Much it Can Make Your Thoughts Way too Much to Think About Thoughtfully

Does a “what if” ever enter your mind? How about a “I never thought about that before?” or maybe just an errant thought from nowhere begins to bounce around in your cranium causing you to pause or maybe even chuckle. Fortunately, this happens to me all the time, bringing about fodder to keep to myself or share with the world.

For instance, American author L. Frank Baum, creator of the amazing story, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” instilled in me a notion that was intriguing but useless to the story. Now why this came to mind I haven’t a clue, but I thought about the wicked witch of the west. We all know that Dorothy dissolved the old biddy with water. This led me down another road. If the wicked witch of the west couldn’t tolerate water, this would mean she’d never taken a bath. Can you imagine the odoriferous stench emanating from this smelly winch? I guess that would explain her green color and the reason she was so mean.

In my own writing, I feel sure I put a bit of myself into most characters. This tends to have a good and bad side. I find in my own life I try to avoid certain situations, but allow the same situation to abound within a character adding a “how could he be so reckless” to the story. I think what I’m trying to say is when it comes down to it there is no need to be stubborn on top of stupid. We’ve all heard the saying, “writing fiction is harder than writing non-fiction; fiction has to be believable.” Always remember there’s a fine line between believable fiction and “way out there,” and it’s hard enough to get read without being so high into the clouds where only the migrating geese might take a gander.

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Seasons Are Seasonal Not to Say That Seasons Are Seasonable If Seasons Were Seasonable Then I Think Salt Would Be The Only Seasoning a Season Would Need to Be Seasoned With

Gazing out of my window, I felt an inkling to pause writing and share a few thoughts buzzing around in my cranium.

Once again, it’s that time of year. Yeah, you know the one I’m talking about. If you ask anyone, “What’s your favorite time of the year?” The majority will answer, “Fall.” Did you notice how I worked a bit of dialog into the first line of my blog?

It’s kinda my favorite time of year also. Now what I mean by “kinda” is that it’s not consistently on the top of my list of favorite seasons. “What is?” you ask.

Well now, let’s take a look at each season, one at a time.

Spring: The weather begins to warm, the tree buds will soon turn to leaves, flowers bloom, and the entire scene is full of beauty and new life. It is also the time of year my body produces an overwhelming amount of snot, itchy eyes, and an overall feeling that the green dust (oak pollen) will never leave and soon take over.

Summer: Hot and humid. . . . Nuff said.

Fall: Rivals Spring in beauty, with the leaves changing to glorious colors and all the insects (especially the biting ones) breathing their last. All these are great things indeed; however, my nemesis (ragweed) appears enticing my body to produce an overwhelming amount of snot for the second time during the year.

Winter: No heat, no humidity, no biting insects, no snot producing particles in the air. . . . “Get where I’m going with this?”. . . . Looky there, dialog again. No brag; just sayin’.

I guess what it boils down to is–I’m glad I live in an area that I’m able to experience all four seasons. The differences are what make each one unique. In truth, they’re just another gift from God’s creation that we are able to enjoy.

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It Seems to Me That Stuff Plays Such a Large Part of Our Stuff That the Stuff We Value Gets Stuffed Away Where No Stuff Should Be Stuffed, Rendering It Useless Stuff

I’ve been toying with a story idea I’d like to run past you. It would parallel real life and go something like this:

Kelly awoke startled by her bed-blaster alarm clock. She slid out of her Sleep Letter Bed and onto her new Lumber Bum apple-wood, pre-finished, laminated floor. Kelly washed her face with Spring Clean, brushed her teeth with Tarter Boom and combed her hair with Spray and Fill.

“There you are,” she said, placing her hand on her newly purchased make-up device. She sprayed an even coat of base with her air brush, followed by Lusty Eye mascara, Double Dip lipstick and a last minute dollop of Pimple Prep.

She slipped into her designer little black dress, designer 6” black heels and headed for the kitchen designed by Likea. She popped four Waste Away Fat Busting tablets, downed a quarter sized Weight Be Gone bran muffin, then headed to work.

Kelly arrived at work sporting her new BNW with no-hands parking technology. She worked until midday designing designer socks with open-toe technology. She devoured an alfalfa sprout salad for lunch and then returned to work designing brass-infused energizing socks.

Completing her day’s work, she stopped by the local gym to wile away several hours in the relaxing grip of top-of-line designer-weight machines.

Back at home she dines on a light meal of no nitrate hotdogs, gluten free bread, organic peppers and onions, organic sauerkraut, organic chili, organic cole slaw, organic tomatoes and organic cheese.

After removing her designer wardrobe, designer make-up, and scrubbing and brushing in reverse, Kelly lays down on her unbelievably comfortable air mattress. As she begins to doze off, an audible hiss followed by her sinking into her bed ensues. “No matter,” she says. “With the lawsuit I have against my diet pill manufacturer, the rodeo clown and those tainted alfalfa sprouts I eat everyday, I’m a cinch to get a settlement that will get me enough cash to afford that cloud-floating bed.  

She falls asleep watching her 50 inch HD TV and the soothing sounds of the bountiful items she may partake of and the legal advice she may seek when the half gallon of ice cream she ate everyday for a year causes unsightly bumps in her little black dress. . . “C’mon man,” Kelly says, “its the circle of strife.”

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Back in the Saddle

Hello All!

I thought I would try something different, so I spent the last 3 weeks in the hospital in the ICU. After an additional week of recovery, I decided I didn’t much care for the situation I found myself,  so I came home. Another week of recovery and I’m ready to resume my blog, spewing humor and off the wall commentary on writing and anything else that presents itself as suitable fodder.

It’s great to be back.

Lynn

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No Unicorns, No Unicorns; My Kingdom for an Extreme Lack of Unicorns

The topic of my blog post this week is something I swore I would never do, if for no other reason than I loathe the subject matter. My favorite genres when I write are science fiction, fantasy, and action adventure. When it comes to fantasy I avoid kings, queens, knights, castles, dragons, damsels in distress and unicorns with extreme prejudice!

Well, it looks like the old saying rings true once again, never say never. And I mean never ever say never because you can bet it will return to chomp unmercifully upon your major gluteus muscles, as just happened to me. I made the mistake of asking a female (my newly acquired daughter) her opinion on the theme of my next blog. “Unicorns,” she said. So here is my offering, even though it manifested into a negative presentation. I’m forming a fact-finding blue ribbon commission to study the feasibility  of changing the unicorn name to “Unihorn.” Of course, we could always replace the horn with an ear of corn and keep the name as is. Think about it and just imagine –  we’d finally have something (though a bit ridiculous)  that actually makes sense.

If you’re wondering about “my newly acquired daughter”, that’s fodder for another blog, but the story is quite a sweet one.

Until next week, Happy Trails!

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If a Sleep Deprived Blogger Fell Asleep While Writing a Blog on Sleep Deprivation, Would that Give the Sleeping Blogger an Edge on Blogging While Sleep Deprived?

Have you ever attempted to write a blog post and had absolutely no idea what to say? Hence, the first sentence. Even now I’m killing virtual paper space searching for something coherent to offer my readers. In actuality, I think they call this writer’s block, although I don’t believe that to be the case. I’ve never suffered from the aforementioned writer’s block. I have run through short spells when my mind refuses to focus on the task at hand. In this case, I’m trying to discover what the task may be or else succumb to examining the inside of my eyelids…well, whattaya know, a short ten-minute power nap kinda shakes up the cobwebs in my cranium and allows me to hopefully make this post a bit more meaningful. Of course, as I read over what I have written, it seems to make more sense simply because it’s something we all face at one time or another. I know when I’m working on a novel I try to write my character into a corner, much like a painter painting a floor would paint himself into a corner with no doors or windows through which to flee. I find if I write my character into this type of corner with no visible means of escape, once I pull him from the jaws of certain demise I have used my strongest writing to do so…hey, I may have just snatched this post from the chops of defeat.

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Musings of a Starving Author

When I started writing it was strictly short stories. I’ve never been one for patience, so getting to the end of the story as soon as possible was a plus, if not a necessity. I was certain a novel was out of reach for someone of my temperament. Then little by little the slightest clue of what possibly may be considered the smallest hint of a notion began to appear deep within the recesses of the small toe on my left foot. After awhile…and I mean awhile, I began to actually believe that I might consider penning a novel. In order to make a short story long, I wrote that novel, found a publisher and that’s when it hit me…I can write a novel, but why stop there. So I listened to myself and wrote a second, followed by a third and then a fourth. I now have number five and six in the works, hopefully, to be published in the near future. I thoroughly enjoy writing. It gives me an outlet to express myself and also a place just to have fun.

If you’re an author you know how to play the game. Get a book published, then ask everyone you know and their brother to leave a review, not to mention your entire family, including great aunt Gertrude who you haven’t seen for thirty years if she’s still alive. Then after years of marketing, you begin to receive unsolicited reviews. There’s nothing better than receiving five-star reviews from total strangers. It reinforces that you made the right career choice after all. What could be better? You walk into your bedroom, open your top dresser drawer and remove a very small document. Then it hits you like a ton of bricks as you stare at your last royalty check, realizing if you wrap the rectangular piece of paper around a rock at least you’d have a paper weight. You close your dresser drawer, leave your room, extinguishing the light as you do so, thinking how glad you are that being an author is not your sole source of income. Good night, Stephen King, wherever you are!    

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