Tag Archives: humor

Ancient Aliens Part 2: The Ruins of Moray

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While it is true I could not stop calling them “crop circles” for the entirety of the trip – they are actually more oval and in truth, called The Ruins of Moray.  Yet mystery surrounds them nonetheless. Theories range from experimental farming by the Incans,  to outdoor theatre, to landing pad for aliens.  All I really know is,  we liked them…whatever their purpose. But, I have to say, I am leaning towards alien landing site because you can never have too many alien theories.

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The walk around.

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Stairs – cool and functional!

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Rules don’t apply…

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Bird’s eye view.

A quick stop, but worth every minute!

Also see: Ancient Aliens Part 1: Lines of Nazca

For More travel in South America: Go Here

For more Sweet Spot Travel: Go Here

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Getting Spit on in Oyantaytambo

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photo-aug-02-11-32-54-amTo be sure, this is not the first time we have been spit on in our travels.

We were innocently there to see the ruins that day.

Through the Incan courtyard at the base…

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To begin our accent at the bottom…

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Stopping halfway up, aghast at how much more hiking up there is to go…

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To finally reach the top to see the “big rocks”…

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And the view…

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And then back down again…

Processed with VSCO with hb2 presetTo maybe enjoy browsing the market at the entrance…

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But first, a distraction. We just thought they were cute, and merely wanted to express our admiration…

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But we found out all too late,

the feeling was not mutual…

Ruins of Peru: Rock Sliding in Saqsayhuaman

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Jaguar Teeth

The ruins of Saqsayhuaman were impressive – ok, maybe not Machu Picchu impressive. Nonetheless, in addition to the pretty cool “Jaguar Teeth” rock construction (see above and below),

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And some awesomely huge, oddly fit together stones,

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That is one big rock…

Saqsayhuaman Ruins had one thing no other ruins we have ever been to, offered…

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A naturally smoothed rock slide! Nothing was put on the rock to make it smooth – no Disney-esk manipulations.  Just smoothed by time, and a lot of behinds. We felt the need to contribute…

The Teens spent most of our time at Saqsayhuaman going down one way,

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or another…

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Racing with new local friends,

photo-jul-30-11-33-37-amUntil it was time to leave,

Processed with VSCO with kk2 presetFor Marco and the ruins of Pisaq awaited!

For More on South America: Go Here

For more Sweet Spot Travel: Go Here

Teen’s New Hog

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We now interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you another episode of  Teen Talk.  I assure you, everything you are about to see is real and unedited. Please do not try this at home…Unless you can fold yourself up like a frog.

One day, Teen cleaned out his chop shop…

Teen:  “Mom, I traded that Zebra dirt bike I could never get to run for one that does!”

Mom:  “Really?  (I was perfectly content with the non-running model) Does the new one go very fast?”

Teen:  “Oh, not that fast”

Mom: “hmm”

Teen:  “Wanna see?”

For more Teen Talk – go here!

Teen Talk: Episode #15

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Teen

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you another episode of  Teen Talk.  I assure you, everything you are about to hear is real and unedited. Please, do not try this at home. Unless you are fond of servitude.

One day, Teen decided to establish his place in the Familial Hierarchy.

Mom:  “Teen, are you working this weekend?”

Teen: “Yes, all day Saturday. Do you know if my work clothes have gone through the laundry yet?”

Mom:  “I’m not sure, we should check when we get home tonight.”

Teen:  “Ok”

Mom:  “Send me a text message as a reminder.  Otherwise, I am afraid, by the time we get home later, we will forget to check.”

…ding…

Text from Teen:  Dear slave,

                               Make sure to wash and iron my good clothes for my upcoming business affairs.

                               Sincerely,

                               The Overlord

The End

For more views by Teen Go Here: Teen Talk

Teen Talk: Episode #13

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Comic by K

Comic by K

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you another episode of  Teen Talk.  I assure you, everything you are about to hear is real and unedited. Please, do not try this at home. Unless you enjoy talking about boobs .

One day, Teen offered his critique of nude art.

SCENE:  Family of 4 (Mom, Dad, 2 teenage boys) check into a hotel in a foreign country, (like for example Costa Rica perhaps?). Upon entering their hotel room they find themselves standing in front of the only wall decor in the room…. a 5′ x 5′ painting of  a topless woman on the beach.

Mom: “I don’t at all object to nudity in artwork, but that painting is just plain disturbing!”

Teen: “Oddly enough, it doesn’t disturb me.”

Mom: “Well, now we have established you’re a  healthy 15 year old.”

Teen: “But, it is kind of like the Mona Lisa.”

Mom: “What? How do you mean?!”

Teen:  “Well, you know how wherever you go in the room, Mona Lisa’s eyes follow you?”

Mom: “Yeah….?”

(Teen continues to pace back and forth in front of the painting)

Teen: “Wherever you go in the room, her boobs follow you.”

The End

Epilogue

She looked cold, so I gave her a suit.

She looked cold, so I gave her a suit…

The End.

For more views by Teen Go Here: Teen Talk

Personal favorite: Teen Talk: Episode #3:  Teen’s recycling techniques.

 

 

The Buttbook

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buttFacebook sucks! Hey, don’t get me wrong. I am an avid Facebook user. I proudly post photos of my kids, myself, my family. I share achievements, funny stuff and milestones. I keep caught up on friends and families lives as one can only do in the cyber stalking way through Facebook.

However, Facebook also has the uncanny ability of making you feel like dog poop about your own life. Why? Because on Facebook, everybody else’s life seems perfect, everybody else’s kids are outstanding, everybody else’s vacations are amazing, everybody else’s significant other remembers their birthday/anniversary, everybody else’s kids make them breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day, everybody else’s jobs are fulfilling (and pay more money) and nobody but nobody ever uses the bathroom.

Logically, this just can’t be true (especially that bathroom thing). If so, then seriously, my life really does suck (fortunately, my Facebook life rocks!!).

The truth is, nobody’s life is perfect…that is why it is called life. We all know this! But nonetheless, it is hard to not feel like slashing your Facebook Friends’ collective tires when they post yet again about some bit of awesomeness in their life or share that perfect “candid” photo of self or kids – especially when it is at a time when you might be contemplating a jump off the proverbial bridge rather than deal with the current stones life is throwing at you!

So, I propose there should be an antithesis to Facebook. A place one can go to detox from all the FB awesomeness. Call it, say, The Buttbook. On The Buttbook, members can only post about stuff that pisses them off, gets in their way, is boring – about real crap life pukes out. Then, when a reality check is needed to counter all the perfectness flowing on Facebook News Feed, a reminder that everybody has armadillos in the closet, or that everything in life isn’t always exciting and wonderful, members can check in with The Buttbook and feel whole again:

My husband is ok, but man, he farts too much.

My teenager is really pissing me off, if she does not look up from her phone when I talk to her I am going to slap her silly.

My house smells like wet dog hair.

When did the Freshman 20 turn into the Middle-aged 50?

My kid did absolutely nothing cool or interesting this month.

I did absolutely nothing cool or interesting this month.

I am in debt up to my du-dun-du-duns.

My job is boring.

And all photos shared must be unfiltered, and completely candid in that “I can’t believe I look like that” way. In fact, any member posting anything cool or awesome is banned – shunned back to Facebook.

Oh, and there needs to be a “you got that right!” button  – so no one will feel alone in their “un-awesomeness”.

I think Facebook would become a lot more palatable with The Buttbook to fall back on every once in a while.

Seriously, I think I am on to something, who’s with me?

All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt

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One of my favorite (in a love/hate kind of way) travel oddities is all the souvenir junk one feels compelled to purchase (and pay way too much money for), all in the name of travel memories. The items you absolutely must have whose destiny is to be stuffed in a drawer for a number of years until someday, if you are really lucky, you may get .25 for it at a garage sale.  One of the most annoying,  (although tied in a close race with the snowglobe/paperweight combo and destination logo-ed shot glass), of these travel mementos is the t-shirt with a stupid saying – one that says something like “My parents went to Jamaica and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.” 

So, what does this soliloquy (because, I am sure I am talking to myself these days since my family has ceased to listen) have to do with my ultra lame post today?  Well, just this, I have been so busy with work, kids, life, staying warm, shopping on eBay, doing stuff, I have not had the time nor creativity to write a decent blog (or even an indecent one for that matter).

Ok, here it comes…the great connection…ready?

“I came to Sweet Spot today and all I got was this lousy photo.”

daylight savings

Daylight savings, in February, really?

Here's a quarter, call someone who cares...only, I don't think they take quarters anymore?

Hey, here’s a quarter, call someone who cares…only, I don’t think they take quarters anymore…

And because today’s post could not get any worse (well it could and is about to) a public service announcement:

DON'T TAKE PHOTOS AND DRIVE!DON’T SHOOT (a camera that is) AND DRIVE!

Please, come back again someday, I promise it gets better.

It can only go up from here.

A Polar Vortex Photo-Op

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It’s cold outside.  I know this, not from a tremendous amount of personal experience because I am pretty sure no living creature in his/her right mind, and without fur, should test the limits of survival.  However, as I have already established (Live from the Polar Vortex), my cat is the only one who truly knows how to stay warm during these pv conditions. So, I trust her as my gauge and watch her intently for clues. That being said, even with all her fur (and, if you must know, fat) she only attempts outside jaunts long enough to “do her business”.  As I can “do my business” inside the warm house (although my boys don’t seem hampered by the same restrictions), I see no other purpose to leave it. And also, my trusty weather gauge, tells me to not make any sudden movements that would require leaving the house unless absolutely necessary,  like to get food or engage in the annoying activity called work.

Did I mention, it's cold?

Did I mention, it’s cold?

However, against my better judgment and self-preservation, I allowed my husband to talk me into a wilderness hike into our woods nearby.  Something about his words “to see the beauty”, “virgin snow” and “you are going to want to bring your camera” had me putting on as many layers as I could still stand up in, grabbing my camera and hoping to make it back home with fingers and toes still intact.

But, he was right.  It was beautiful and probably worth the risk of a little frost bite.

Winter Woods1

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Winter Woods 3

Winter Woods 4

Winter Woods 5

Winter Woods 6

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Winter Woods 8

Winter Woods 9

Unfortunately, our woodland adventure ended when my husband had a disagreement with a hill as to whether his SUV could make it up its icy, snow covered surface in 4 wheel drive or not.  The answer was “not”,  with the end result being a backward slide into a tree that was kind enough to stop our decent, abruptly…

Unfortunate time of year for creative ventilation.

Unfortunate time of year for creative ventilation.

(Truthfully, his vehicles have looked worse)

The hike back out of the woods to get a ride home until his car could be towed out was somehow not quite as quaint,

Did it all of a sudden get colder?

Did it all of a sudden get colder?

But, we lived to tell about it, and then some.

The cat was the only one who stayed home…

Live From the Polar Vortex

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Yesterday, I went to the bank.  Exciting, I know.  But, I made a crucial discovery in the process.  You see, as I dumped into the teller’s space my unfinished deposit items, I expressed apologies for my inability to perform the simplest of math required to complete the deposit slip.  “That’s ok” she generously replied, “It’s too cold to think”.  In the words of Pre-Teen, who immortalized the phrase in our family after discovering a London street we had inadvertently walked down late one night was the “gay party street”…

”That explains a lot!!!”.

Too cold to think!  Of course! Suddenly all was explainable.  It explained why I can’t seem to write a blog to save my life (which aside from my recent run-in with a barbed wire fence hasn’t really been necessary), why I have been driving in circles on country roads in the quest to deliver my sons to sporting events (because how else to explain that after 12 years, I still have not mastered country-style direction following), and why I can’t seem to put two words together or remember anyone’s name (cause, like, in no way could that be age or anything).

Honestly, the whole Polar Vortex thing is getting on my nerves.  Aside from the “too cold to think” phenomenon (which, seriously, is the last thing I need as my thinking abilities are challenged under the warmest of conditions), and the fact that I can’t leave the house without cursing at the wind like a crazy lady, and those weather-chicken school officials who keep making my kids stay home with me, stuck in the house being bored, instead of in school annoying the teachers, (don’t they know waiting at the bus stop in sub-zero weather builds character?),  there are the questions.

For example, my husband, asking me every single morning – like my uterus is somehow hard wired into the Doppler radar – “What is the weather forecast for today?” (um cold, freezing or excuse-me-while-I-scream-in-agony-cold?).  Or from friends and family smugly living in my native California – like they don’t recall that anything under 60 degrees qualifies as “cold” in Cali (yeah, you know who you are) – “Is it cold there?”  (um, yeah, cold, freezing, and excuse-me-while-I-scream-in-agony cold).  Or from Teen and Pre-Teen who I suspect secretly just want me out of the way so they can watch a cagillioneth episode of Family Guy “Why are you watching Dexter…again!?” – (because the Miami setting makes me feel warm and I have a soft spot for a cute sociopath with heart, if you must know).

I can at least appreciate the question from friends who, like me once basked in the glory of a sunshine state but have now unwittingly found themselves relocated in a polar vortex – “Are you surviving the cold”  (since I wear gloves to grocery shop, I would have to say “No”).

One thing is for certain.  My cat, Lulubelle, doesn’t seem to have trouble thinking in the cold and has in fact figured out a way to survive and keep warm, which makes her the smartest member of our family.

You don't mind a few, or say hundreds of white hairs on your clean laundry, right?

You don’t mind a few, or say hundreds of white hairs on your clean laundry, right?

Yep, things are that bleak.

So for now,

I am coming to you live from the Polar Vortex…

But, only barely.

Curl Up and Dye

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Fancy a hair cut?

Fancy a hair cut?

Whilst traveling through Chillicothe, Missouri (yep, you read that right) a few weeks ago, I happened upon the above hair establishment.  I’ll admit, I was curious.  I mean, you don’t have to hang around Sweet Spot long to know how much I relish a healthy sense of humor (Teen Talk) and a good play on words (Word-Up).  But, brave enough to give it a go?  Probably not.  When it comes to my hair, humor is not really the emotion I am attempting to inspire.  But, that’s just me.

The Rebellion Rages On

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In response to my article earlier this week, Every Good Rebellion Deserves Documentation, I came home yesterday to an empty house and this:

spaghettiosHow the Spaghetti O’s even made it into my pantry in the first place is a subversive, rebellious act which will have to be routed out.  Until then, at least these mutineers can still make the dictator laugh.

Happy Friday

5 Perfect Moments: Make ’em Laugh

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Spice Cake Tower of Babel

Cake or The Tower of Babel?

On my current life schedule I find it hard, or rather impossible,  to write.  I try, I really do, but somehow there is always something more pressing. However, I do write lists, lots and lots of lists:  grocery lists, appointment lists, work lists, lists of places people need to be, lists of things I don’t need to worry about anymore, lists of things I want to write about someday,  lists of things to do,  lists of things I keep forgetting to do, lists of things that will never get done but makes me feel better knowing they are at least on a “list”.

However, this week, in light of the way too early and saddening loss of a childhood friend a few days ago, I found myself making a mental list of all the current moments I never want to forget – moments that make me laugh at the time, and smile just  thinking about them later. Moments  I don’t want to pass by too quickly like so many seem to do.  Moments that make up the best parts of my day.

Here are my favorite 5.  Maybe they will make you laugh or smile, too.

1.  Teen came out of his room dressed for school in a suspiciously color coordinated shirt and shorts combo…and announced he meant to do it.

2.  While thinking out loud (aka: talking to myself) about whether to tell my husband about a mutual friend’s health situation being as she is trying to keep it secret until she has the chance to discuss with family members, Pre-Teen piped in from the other room (as is his habit to listen to conversations not meant for him):  “I say ‘no’ Mom, don’t tell Dad –  Because the bag he keeps his cat in is not exactly the tightest bag!”

3.  I started the coffee in my Kuerig coffee maker only to realize mid-cycle, as I stood watching it,  no coffee cup was under the precious stream of coffee.

4.  Pre-Teen had a school project – make a model of the Tower of Babel.  He did so…out of Spice Cake.

5.  I dropped Teen off at High school: “Bye honey, have a good day.” “Thanks Mom…hashtag love.”

For Charlie, because, “If you smile, they’ll never look at your feet.”

Puerto Rico Island Travels Part 3: The Big Cajones Tour

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Castillo de San Cristobal

Castillo de San Cristobal

“Balls” is a recurring theme on Sweet Spot – abused in Word-up: We’ve Got Big Balls, reminisced about in DodgeBall State of Mind and even my trip to New York last December could not escape some body parts humor.  And we are certainly not above bantering a Weenus around now and again.

You see, from my vast in-the-field experience (although, admittedly my focus group is limited to my boys and visiting more-than-happy-to-contribute friends) I have discovered that almost all humor can boil down to some sort of genital or body part innuendo – and the rest can finish with a potty joke  (don’t you wish you hung around my house during these learned occasions?).

I fear without the raucous humor, our life would hold few distinctions. Therefore, it was an especially good thing we decided to visit two forts in Old San Juan, on our trip to Puerto Rico– Castillo San Felipe del Morro and Castillo de San Cristobal – or we may very well have tragically missed the opportunity to include some phallic humor in our recent travels.

Visiting Castillo San Felipe del Morro and Castillo de San Cristobal, built by the Spanish as protection against foreign invasion in the 16th century and 18th century respectively,  we learned a few things (a very few, unfortunately) about life as a Spanish soldier serving at a fort in those long ago centuries.

The views were pretty fab.

Castillo San Felipe del Morro

View from Castillo San Felipe del Morro

Castillo de San Cristobal

Castillo de San Cristobal

San Felipe del Morro

San Felipe del Morro

Castillo de San Cristobal

Castillo de San Cristobal

The accommodations pretty much sucked.

Castillo de San Cristobal

Castillo de San Cristobal

And even better than having some really big guns to shoot,

Castillo San Felipe del Morro

Castillo San Felipe del Morro

Having really big balls, or shall we say…cajones.

Castillo San Felipe del Morro

Castillo San Felipe del Morro

And on that note, Puerto Rico Island Travels is now concluded.

Honestly, after that, what else could there possibly be?

Puerto Rico Island Travels Part 1: The Lost Tour

Puerto Rico Island Travels Part 2: The Clothing Optional Tour

For more Sweet Spot Travels: Go Here!

Teen Talk: Episode #9

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Forgetting Brain

Comic by K

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you another episode of  Teen Talk.  I assure you, everything you are about to hear is real and unedited. Please, do not try this at home. That is, if you want to get anything done, ever.

One day, Teen had some chores.

Mom:  “Teen, don’t forget to do your chores today.”

Teen:  “Ok… (pause)…”And yet, I have already forgotten.”

Mom:  “What?!?!”

Teen:  “It’s too late, no one can stop me now.  Not even myself!

The End

Teen Talk: Episode #8

Teen Talk: Episode #7

Teen Talk: Episode #6

Teen Talk: Episode #5

Teen Talk: Episode #4

*Teen Talk: Episode #3

Teen Talk Episode #2

Teen Talk Episode #1

For more views by Teen Go Here: Teen Talk

Word-Up: Show Me Your Weenus

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My summer has been as crazier than a redneck at an opera (my husband should know).   And while I continue to chuck back lemons at life , the little suckers appear to be getting smaller and easier to manage.  Anyway, all that means is that I have had less time to hang here on Sweet Spot.  So, I thought I would share one of my favorite moments from last spring.  Some things just never get old…especially boy humor, at least in my world.

I knew it!  I feared the day would come – the moment when I would finally be presented with undeniable proof I was failing as a parent.  I wanted to deny it, but the evidence was right there staring me in the face.  Clearly, I was raising a depraved sociopath.

You know the age old story, in the aftermath of a sociopath’s identification, when the neighbors wax poetic for the press?  Statements of disbelief such as:  “But, they were such a nice family”…  “Never heard a peep out of them”…”mostly kept to themselves”…”They had a lot of garden gnomes.”

Right, well, I could just see the entire future unfolding. How had it come to this?

You see, last weekend as we drove endlessly in the car from one activity to another, the irrefutable proof of my impending catastrophe occurred. I don’t know, maybe my kids were bored.  And what is it ‘they’ say?  Boredom is the devil’s playground?  Boredom is the Mother of Invention?  Either way, from the depths of the backseat, my son called out,

“Mom, I scraped my weenus, could you put a band aide on it?”

What?!

Before I could even process his statement, the situation deteriorated further. Apparently, my parental fiasco was farther reaching than just one dissolute sociopath as both boys continued in a flourish of depravity.

“Mom, my weenus is exposed”.

“I need some sunscreen for my weenus”.

“Hey, get your weenus out of my face”.

“Look, my weenus is all wrinkled”.

“I am going to touch you with my weenus”.

“I have the weirdest weenus, want to see?”.

The situation seemed dire at best.

But then, just as I was getting ready to take preventative action (you can google for a psychotherapist, right?), I was saved.  In the nick of time, I was informed by my little backseat degenerates their particular word “weenus” came with its own specific definition. However, just to be sure (and to have proof for possible future penal encounters – ha, get it?), I googled it myself- lo and behold:

According to Urban Dictionary:Weenus is the flap of skin on your elbow”.

Sigh of relief.  Apparently I am not raising a couple of depraved sociopaths, just a couple of depraved smart alecks.

But that I can live with, proudly.

For more word abuse, check out these earlier posts!

Word-Up:  Poop

Word-Up: We’ve Got Big Balls

Word-Up: Opus Anyone?

Word-Up: Get a Yob!

When Life Gives You Lemons, Chuck Them Back

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lemon-cartoon

I have always hated the saying “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”  I know this may be surprising coming from the girl who writes a blog called “Looking for the Sweet Spot.”  But the truth is, when life hands me lemons, my initial instinct and burning desire is to chuck them right back…hard…in a “you can put an eye out like that” kind of way.

Logic aside (or even in the near vicinity), I want life to be like ordering in a restaurant:

Life Waitress:  “Excuse me, Miss,” (‘cause in my perfect world, no one ever dares address me as ‘Maam’), “Would you like a lemon with life today?”

Me:  “No, I think I will pass on the lemon for today! But, thank you for asking.”

I mean really, wouldn’t it at least be polite of Life to first ask if I am ready, willing, and able to embrace the whole idea of a lemon?

But no, Life always seems to prefer the shock and awe approach – handing out the biggest, juiciest lemon when least expected or wanted.  And as an added bonus, Life’s timing seems to generally suck.

So now, here sits the big huge lemon Life has handed me right in the middle of everything, impossible to ignore and demanding acceptance…just like my cat.

And I am left to figure out how to squeeze some lemonade out of it, beat it to a pulp (the lemon, not the cat), or better yet, find a way to laugh about it.

But until that time, I am asking, in the most respectful way possible regarding all future lemon gifts…

“In the future, Life, when handing me a lemon, could you at least, please, pass the sugar, too?”

Or, at least, give me a good punch line.

Thank you.  Your cooperation is much appreciated.

Teen Talk: Episode #8

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teentalk7

Comic by K

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you another episode of  Teen Talk.  I assure you, everything you are about to hear is real and unedited. Please, do not try this at home. And keep your daughters far, far away.

One day, Teen contemplated dating etiquette.

Teen:  “Mom, do you think my girlfriend would break up with me if I said to her, Kiss my extra large buttocks?”

Mom:  “I would certainly hope so!”

Teen:  “Right.  If she wouldn’t, then I think I should probably break up with her.”

Mom:  “Good plan.”

The End

Teen Talk: Episode #7

Teen Talk: Episode #6

Teen Talk: Episode #5

Teen Talk: Episode #4

*Teen Talk: Episode #3

Teen Talk Episode #2

Teen Talk Episode #1

For more views by Teen Go Here: Teen Talk

No Joke Left Behind

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I have known my husband for about 18 years now.  There is one thing I know about the guy…he has never met a joke he didn’t like. (Destroy this Note After Reading)

He believes there is something good to be found in any joke.  There is no bad joke, only bad timing,  He is the friend to even the most meek and lowly joke,  the champion of the completely pathetic joke,  and a hero to the forgotten joke. The depths he will stoop to in order to lift up the most puny of jokes knows no bounds.  And a joke lucky enough to bask in the glory of his repertoire does not just have one day in the sun, but enjoys the warmth again…and again…and again.

As it happens, an event happened last week that  poetically illustrates my point ever so perfectly.

Last week, my husband had an accident while jumping off a piece of farm equipment.  Well, actually, it was a mower… ok, well not the actual mower but rather a dirt grader being dragged behind the mower (but man, that one foot down was a long way).  Anyway, in the process of jumping off said equipment, his foot got caught and twisted his leg in a way it was not really meant to go (either that or the muscles just don’t bend and stretch the way they used to).  Either way, the end result was his leg hurt, and hurt bad – bad enough for him to take himself off to the Doctor to have it checked out.

Later, when I arrived home, as my husband lay with his leg up and cocooned in ice, I went in search of the diagnosis and recovery paper from the Doctor –  as he knew I would!

As I rounded the kitchen door, I saw the medical paper conveniently displayed  for my discovery (I should have sensed a trap right then and there):

"Here I am, look at me!!!"

“Here I am, look at me!!!”

On closer inspection – and with some very directive arrow sticky notes attached to the paper to make sure I read the intended passage on the paper, I discovered this:

Doctor's notes

Whether he bribed the Doctor to be a party to his joke plot or surreptitiously somehow added the Doctor’s notes himself remains a mystery.

What is not a mystery, is that one of my husband’s favorite one liners now lives on,  forever  immortalized in medical history.

…and I will continue to perform my wifely duty of  laughing at them.

A job I don’t really mind a bit.