Apr 192017
 

At times, being an English Major can be sheer torture. Listening while others butcher the English language is cruel and unusual punishment. I shudder when I hear the pompous speakers among us using the me, myself, and I interchangeably. My dentist tells me I must stop grinding my teeth, but how can I when so many insist on saying I seen instead of I saw? If I hear one more person say I seen, I will not be responsible for my actions.

An English Mutilator nearly ruined my winter vacation this year. MG’s high school classmates, MG and I shared a rental home in Florida for a week. The house was lovely, the weather was gorgeous, the company was terrific, and the attractions we visited were interesting and entertaining. We were having a fabulous time, and then one evening I decided to do some laundry. Huge mistake.

It was hidden at first, this serpent in the Garden of Eden. A pile of folded towels blocked the diabolical missive from view. I lifted the towels off the clothes dryer to set them aside, and then and there it assaulted my vision and attacked my sensibilities. The offensive object was a printed note from the cleaning service that was taped to the top of the dryer. I recoiled at the sight of it. The note began with the most blatant of errors. The horror! The rest of the note was unintelligible in places. I nearly wept for an American public school system that produced such incompetence.

I did my laundry, averting my eyes the entire time so as not to view that note from hell, but the damage had been done. I couldn’t get that mangled memo out of my mind. It haunted me. I went to bed but couldn’t sleep. Knowing that satanic, error-ridden note existed, that it was out there in the laundry room mere steps from my bedroom, gnawed at me. I couldn’t let that attack on proper English slide. I needed to deal with it.

I had to make certain MG was asleep. His snoring confirmed it, so I slid out of bed cautiously, grabbed the little flashlight I always keep beside my bed, and slipped a pen out of my purse. I tiptoed to the laundry room. I felt a rush of adrenalin as I corrected the cleaning service’s error that tasked me the most. I couldn’t resist taking a photo of my handiwork as a trophy commemorating my victory over illiteracy.

Afterward, I walked on air as I sneaked back to bed. I slept like a baby, a very content English Major baby.

Apr 122017
 

I’ve been away from my keyboard for a few weeks now. Did you miss me? Um, never mind. Don’t answer that. I wasn’t gone by choice. Circumstances beyond my control kept me from making my weekly appearances.

At first, I was separated from my keyboard because of winter vacation activities. While I missed writing my blog, thankfully I did have fun with MG and our friends, and with my Baby Sister and BIL.

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Mar 152017
 

Our Chevy Traverse, MG, and I made it home from Florida all in one piece, no thanks to I-75, its construction work, and its stop and go traffic jams. After two long and tedious days on the road, I have come to loathe the word merge.

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Oh, Poo! I’m LMAO! #AdvertisingHumor #BathroomHumor #humor #Poo-Pourri #VIPoo #odors

 Serious Whimsy  Comments Off on Oh, Poo! I’m LMAO! #AdvertisingHumor #BathroomHumor #humor #Poo-Pourri #VIPoo #odors
Mar 012017
 

You know the unholy dread you experience if you are desperate to use the necessary room to have a BM but you’re out in public, or at work, or at a friend’s house? How does one disguise or eliminate the resulting offensive odor? In a public restroom, courtesy flushes often aren’t quick enough or thorough enough. Eww. Open a window at a friend’s house, perhaps. If there is no window you could turn on the exhaust fan, but that’s a dead give away. Perhaps your host or hostess had judiciously placed a scented candle in the necessary room for just such an occasion. Excellent idea, if there is a match to be had. Oh, poo.

There is salvation from the torment mentioned above. Just ask the British, but be prepared to laugh. The Brits have a wonderfully dry, irreverent, off the wall sense of humor–or humour, as it were–especially when it comes to bathroom humor. Cottonelle Toilet Tissue’s clean bum/go commando commercials come to mind.


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Feb 222017
 

Our family just set up a private Facebook page for its members–and only its family members. The single rule of our page is that we post only fun and positive family stuff and photos–nothing nasty or divisive. That’s what we’re doing, and what a respite it is.

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