Enter Laughter

Thanks to everyone who left great stories or links in the comments section! I’ve had a few e-mail replies to my request for Halloween stories: Sandy sent this photo: It's a yard here in St. Louis and I think that what they did was so cute. I call it Ghost Dancers or Seven Sheets to the Wind. (I love her sense of humor!) ***** Mary Ann sent this photo: LOL! Thanks to both friends! ***** I left a comment at Shel Isreal’s blog, "Naked Conversations " and he was kind enough to respond personally, despite his busy schedule, co-writing with Robert Scoble of Microsoft. I asked him if he had a story he could share and he replied: I am sorry, but I really am against book-related deadlines and don’t have time to scan my childhood for a juicy anecdote. The quickest that comes to mind is when I wound up in the hospital after running headlong (or neck-long) into a clothesline that served as a karate chop to my throat. Why? Because someone was chasing me after I waxed

Memories...like the corners of my mind (which means they are full of cobwebs and old books LOL) What is the first Halloween you can remember? The most extraordinary? Please share your stories! You can leave them here in the comments, or post them on your own blog and send me a link. If you don’t have a blog, e-mail your story to me and I will add it here. The earliest Halloween that I can recall was age 3 - I was a ghost. We were at my grandmother’s house. She took a white pillowcase and slipped it over me, and marked where my eyeballs and shoulders were, then pulled it off and cut little circles out for me to see through, and holes for me to poke my arms through. I thought I was da bomb - LOL We walked up her street to a few houses, me carrying my costume’s pillowcase mate to collect treats in. I harbored visions of filling it up, as tall as myself, and having enough sweets to gorge on forever. This was in the glory days of Halloween, before poison and razor blade scares, when

A bald man with a wooden leg gets invited to a Halloween party. He doesn't know what costume to wear to hide his head and his leg, so he writes to a costume company to explain his problem. A few days later he receives a parcel with the following note: Dear Sir, Please find enclosed a pirate's outfit. The spotted handkerchief will cover your bald head and with your wooden leg you will be just right as a pirate. Very truly yours, Acme Costume Co. The man thinks this is terrible because they have just emphasized his wooden leg, so he writes a letter of complaint. A week goes by and he receives another parcel and a note, which says: Dear Sir, Please find enclosed a monk's habit. The long robe will cover your wooden leg and with your bald head you will really look the part. Very truly yours, Acme Costume Co. Now the man is really upset since they have gone from emphasizing his wooden leg to emphasizing his bald head, so again he writes the company and another nasty letter o

Only one week left! You may be getting desperate for Halloween ideas, but please avoid these options: (the first one is from me playing with PhotoShop, the rest are from Google) The Invisible Pedestrian (original concept courtesy of Dan Akroyd, on an old SNL skit) Editing note: I have removed "The Littlest Hooker" after some complaints and concerns that it promoted pedophilia. This was not my intent. It was just a joke. Clowning Around If you are an adult, (this page is FOR adults only) please use caution to avoid these tragic costuming errors. (tee-hee!)

{{Hat tip to Jodi, one of my E-Bay customers, for sending this to me}} Sisters Mary Catherine, Maria Theresa, Katherine Marie, Rose Frances, & Mary Kathleen left the Convent on a trip to St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City and were sight-seeing on a Tuesday in July. It was hot and humid in town and their traditional garb was making them very uncomfortable. They decided to stop in at Patty McGuire’s Pub for a cold soft drink. Patty had recently added some special legs to his barstools, which were the talk of the fashionable eastside neighborhood. All five Nuns sat up at the bar and were enjoying their Cokes when Monsignor Riley entered the bar through the front door with Father McGinty. They were shocked and almost fainted at what they saw. SCROLL DOWN..........

Bradley was a brat. When I was 8 years old, his sister Robin was my best friend. We walked to school together, and since Bradley was only a year younger, he walked with us, tormenting us every step of the way. He ran in circles around us. He dangled any grubby thing he could pick up off the street in front of us (and that child would pick up ANYTHING.) He made up idiotic little singsong rhymes to annoy us. He was the first (sadly of many) to call me "Farty Marti," despite my lack of excess gas at that tender age. He was a nuisance extraordinaire. Next door to Robin and Bradley the Brat (which even I admit doesn’t have the ring of Farty Marti) was a vacant house. It had been vacant as long as anyone could remember. The weeds grew high and some of the windows were broken. Naturally, we assumed it was haunted. Stories grew of eerie lights and strange noises. It scared the bejesus out of me. No one dared go trick or treat there, as it would certainly lead to some gruesome de

It was Halloween time and an athletic guy was invited to a costume party. He goes to a costume specialty shop, and asks a young salesgirl; "I am going to be Adam, nude with only a fig leaf to cover down below. Can you help?" The salesgirl shows him a fig leaf for the occasion. He winks at the girl and says, "Not big enough for what I have, ma'am!" She brings out a bigger one. He keeps shaking his head negatively and says, "Well, not big enough for what God has given me. You understand?" She brings out a huge fig leaf; the largest possible made for the purpose. He throws his hands on the counter, and says, "Still not big enough. I have a reputation at stake here. You know what I mean?" Impressed, the salesgirl says , "Then, Mr. Hercules, why don't you just attach the leaf, throw it over your shoulder and go as a gasoline pump?"

I love autumn. I love the cooler weather. I love the leaves changing color. I love October and Halloween (like duh, I'm a pumpkin farmer LOL) I love how early in the morning there is a low fog hanging close to the ground , and steamy haze rising from all of the ponds. When I took Daughter to school this morning, it was beautiful beyond compare. The entire eastern sky was a rosy glow. Light shafts from the rising sun were peeking between the branches. Driving past fields and meadows bathed in a golden glow, we saw cows and horses standing knee-deep in the slowly undulating mist, lending them a mystical quality. After dropping her off, I was driving home at a leisurely pace, a goofy smile plastered on my face because it was all so damn pretty, and in the distance, through the vapor, I saw a figure walking on the side of the road. I frowned. There was something. . .odd. As I approached the figure I realized what was odd about the scene. It was a clown. A clown in full regalia

I have been "tagged", and am henceforth bound by the Computer-users Loosely Interpreted Questionable Ethics (Clique) Code to follow suit and "play along". ~snicker~ The instructions were given to me by my blog-buddy and quite amusing fellow, The Village Idiot, who scribes his words of wisdom over at Kicked Puppies . Desperate for love and attention, I follow the Code of the Clique - here's what I have to do: THE RULES 1. Go into your archive. 2. Find your 23rd post. 3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to). 4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions. 5. Tag five other people to do the same. My 23rd post was "Leaning Tower of Puzza" posted August 9, 2005. (Which shows what a lazy blogger I am - LOL) The fifth sentence is: When the pumpkin patch is open, I have a series of small billboards, placed every fifty feet or so along the road in front of the farm, in the manner of the old Burma Shave shaving cream

Another example of Just Say No to Nagging. High School Homecoming was approaching. I asked Darling Daughter if she was planning on attending any of the events. This was met with the, "are you insane?" look. She informed me that she is not into: *Sports *Pep *Parades *Spirit *Preppies OR *Dances Of course I didn't listen. I nagged. I cajoled. I bribed. Bribery worked. So off we went to find a dress, a beautiful dress, fit for a princess. With dress and all accoutrements in hand, I was pleased (and out a trip to the anime' store LOL) Saturday morning I forced, err...suggested the kids accompany me, to town to watch the parade. I love a parade. Grudgingly, the joined me. Of course Middle Son HAD to wear the whole Gothy regalia. This is a small town, and he was the Lone Goth. We took a couple of lawn chairs, and Daughter and I planted ourselves along the side of the road, while he stood, looking..."brooding" LOL He is a 2004 graduate, so there were a lot

I have an internet friend whom I've know for about five years now. We have written e-mails, exchanged photos and cried on one another's shoulders when we needed someone to vent to. She was going to be passing through town on a bus trip (she is deathly afraid to fly), and would have a layover in Kansas City, about 25 miles from me. She hoped I would be able to come down and keep her company. I was thrilled at the prospect of finally meeting her in person! The layover was scheduled to occur at 11:30 PM. Middle Son and I drove down to the scary part of town and met her. A few weeks ago, (as if my life didn't have quite ENOUGH grief in it LOL) he decided to "go goth" (Anyone seeing the influence of an eyebrow-pierced young woman here?) He went shopping and bought several black t-shirts adorned with graphics of skulls, these black pants covered with silver studs zippers and chains and a huge black trenchcoat a la Matrix. Then he dyed his hair blue/black. His complexio