A little Monday Monty Python for you and you and you and you and you. (Singing those for yous to the whistling portion of Always Look On The Bright Side of Life.)
The world today is filled with sexism and discrimination everywhere you look. No matter the country or the people, there they are, the isms and the nations. I’ve returned to lend my voice once again to champion for all of those who are victims of these awful things.
This past week perhaps millions of heart shaped boxes covered in red, lace, and roses were shared around the world. They said I love you on the lid, but those words were merely a mask for the evil hidden within. Boxes filled with various chocolates injected with flavored cremes, liquors, and even a different texture of chocolate. Valentine’s day is the top candy day of the year and loved by all who love love or simply love the sweet or bitter taste of that miracle of beans found in Mexico. Blast your blood thirsty conquistador heart Hernán Cortés.
I believe all of you should see the obvious direction this is going. Sexism and discrimination are built, literally, in to the products of Valentine’s Day, and specifically those of candy companies.
I, yes, this poor red-headed-step-child, am a victim of this cheapskate sexist discrimination. Have you ever watched a man with large fingers attempt to remove chocolates from those heart-shaped boxes each year? Once a year I find myself resorting to one of the following methods because candy companies make the chocolates of a size that is so close to the exact size of their particular space that my man-child fingers cannot raise the chocolate up enough to remove. They are made for tiny lady fingers. Hmm. There was a time I would have rambled after having typed lady fingers about biscuits or cookies, but I’ve matured sense then. On with the show. Chocolate removing methods.
- The Smash or Pinch Method: This requires one to damage the chocolate in such a way that the velvety chocolate covers the fingers, but the candy is now easily removed.
- The Roll Method: With this one you must constantly run your finger tip from the edge of the candy and over the top in hopes the chocolate with flip on to its side.
- The Dump It All: This one is obvious, but I’ll explain anyway and note the drawback. You simply flip the box over in a bowl and all the chocolates have found freedom, freedom to my mouth. The drawback? The nice chocolate maps they have in the lids of the boxes are now useless and you now risk biting in to your Valentine’s favorite kind by mistake, although it was bought for you, but we all know how it really works. Chocolates belong to women, even if owned by a man. For single men, never having had a girlfriend on Valentine’s Day, keep the afore mentioned in mind.
- The Push Up: You raise the tray of chocolates up and push from beneath the one you want so it raises up enough for you to remove it. (Note: This one was provided by a therapist that I discussed this with.)
- The Toothpick: Just use a toothpick to flip the chocolate over or stick the toothpick into the piece hors d’oeuvres style.
Although one can use any of the methods above, they are not all feasible, depending upon the situation and number of people partaking of the chocolates.
Now you can understand why chocolate companies are cheap, sexist, and discriminatory to us big fingered gents. What would it take to add just a little more space for the chocolate? I’m sorry I don’t have even a pinky finger small enough to fit in that hairline fracture of a space. Nor do I allow my nails to grow to that length, well not intentionally, but they do sometimes when I get lazy and nonattentive to my nail growth grooming.
Have you ever come to the end of a blog post and wondered why you ever started reading it to begin with? Well, I think you answer yes to that question if ever asked again. But blogs are a place to get that itch out of your brain. I’ve been adequately scratched…for now.
When Hugh and Toby’s away over at Hugh’s Views & News, what happens?
Did you notice the site looks different?
First up, check out the CHALLENGES BY MY PALS page. As I discover people who participate in my challenges who have Weekly Challenges of their own, I’ll be adding them to this page. You can add your challenge to the comments if you like so I know. But I reserve the right to say no and delete the comment. If you aren’t an active part of our community I can’t see my promoting your site … yet. That may sound unfriendly but I think it’s fair.
As for the new look of the blog. I’m experimenting. My theme has different layouts and I’m going to see what I like.
I’ll be putting videos at the top of the sidebar and for now those will be the LAUGH of the WEEK. You don’t have to leave the sidebar to watch or listen to it. Click the play symbol in the center and you’ve got it.
I won’t be doing a post each week about the video I show. Instead, it will be there on the sidebar for you to click and watch if you like. I intend to keep them as short as possible. This weeks is longer than the ones I will like to normally use of no more than 2:00.
Let me say a little about this weeks LAUGH of the WEEK.
At 4:55 it is worth it to see Tim Conway attempt to make Carol Burnett break character during a skit where four characters are playing Password. Tim has just said Elephant, which is wrong, in response to Carol’s clue. All Carol has to do is get Vicki Lawrence, Mama in this skit, to begin her part by giving a clue to guest star Dick Van Dyke. But Carol has to be able to speak in order to do it.
A little backstory to this segment. There were rehearsals earlier in the day. Even then, Carol was having a difficult time keeping a straight face. The director came through during makeup and told Vicki Lawrence, of Mama’s Family fame, actually the youngest member of the cast who played Mama the one in glasses and the grey wig, that the Elephant story had changed and to be prepared for anything.
Vicki knew it would be trouble trying to get through the skit with a straight face. Her husband, the makeup man on the show, told her to get Tim Conway for a change because Tim was always trying to crack people up, even making Harvey Korman, who some may know from Blazing Saddles, pee in his pants during the famous Dentist skit. Vicki had a difficult time in the past doing anything off script because she was so young and felt she shouldn’t. Her attempt to ‘get’ Tim has a word in it that I don’t use. Watch and see what happens.
A little fun for today. Why? BECAUSE WE NEED IT!!! We’ve blogged too much already!!! LAUGH A LITTLE!!!!
And now here is your laugh for today. Enjoy.
Log: Blog *Pot 558
Today I discovered ISP Central is full of
idiots intelligent beings. Previous broadcasted message stated all of region with problems. Now being sent a new communication device for computer system. ISP Central stated I did not have IP service while I was in search engine looking for another ISP in region. Unfortunately they have monopoly a wonderful service that means we need no other provider.
Due to last communication, ISP Central has proven they are indeed
idiots most intelligent beings. No IP while in the middle of using IP?
Consumed coffee today. Large cup, half coffee, half sugar. It is fortunate ISP Central are
idiots intelligent beings and psychic. My lack of ability to force opinions on various subjects at this moment may be wise. The ability to speak with speed has increased by 100 times. Clarity of thought by 1000 times. Ability to sensor has decreased by infinity. Society, politicians, and stupid parenting has been saved by caffeine and sugar overdose. I don’t drink caffeine. It’s been a trip. Locals have had an ear full. Your loss is their misery.
Other than the above, today has been like many other days, but only more and less so. More writing on two different novels. Less blogging about nonsense. Going through withdrawals from missing blog hotties that visit my location. Hove is Hottie central as you all know. Muse about the meaning of that one if you will. Tongue in cheekie I am today. I’ll leave that last sentence as is. I’m feeling playful. Darn it Jim, I’m a Writer not a Priest. Darn it all, I’m a layman, not a pastor. Yeah, going to go with that one too. You’re welcome.
Will update as able to. Haiku Review Communication will be in best form possible. Perhaps not as entertaining as I hope the last one was. Although have not received many LOL communications from
Space Ranger Ronovan Out.
What Pirate Captain Rasmus Bergman of the Pirate Tales series of books would look like in black and white and if he was Space Ranger Ronovan.
Communication has been reviewed by Interplanetary Safety Protectorate (ISP) for your protection and modified were deemed appropriate for clarity and fact.
*(Pol-One full Planetary Rotation.)
A little nostalgia and a little humor. Rick Springfield fans get ready. Rick Springfield haters–enjoy. Music drops in at around 1 minute, so wait for it. 🙂 And no, your speakers aren’t broken, that first minute is mono.
Raquel Welch from One Million Years B.C.
Tim Hawkins is a comedian who happens to be a Christian. This means usually family friendly comedy. The guy is hilarious. Here he is in a 2 minute clip about marriage conflict resolution and texting.
As you may have read in my last post I have been given the challenge to share three quotes with you in three consecutive posts by Greg of Potholes in the Road of Life.
Let me tell a little story.
A preacher repeatedly heard from his friends about the joys of playing golf on Sunday. Sunday players got a discount, they said, yet the golf course was never overcrowded like it was during the rest of the week. It was so peaceful, that a person could really concentrate on his game.
Being a man of the cloth, of course, the preacher worked on Sunday. But, also being a avid golf fan, the preacher found the temptation to try the Sunday game strong and persistent. Finally, the preacher gave in. He called his assistant to say he was sick and to turn the sermon over to him. Then, he grabbed his clubs and headed for the golf course.
The day was sunny and bright. The course was peaceful and quiet. His friends were right. Sunday was a perfect day to play golf.
But, up in heaven, God and his angels were watching the preacher as he set up his first tee. “God,” said the smallest angel, “You have to do something about this! The man is a preacher! This isn’t right!”
“Don’t worry,” said God. “I’ve got the situation well in hand.”
The preacher took his swing. THWAK!!! The ball wisked through the air straight and true as an arrow. HOLE IN ONE!!!!!!!
At the second hole, the preacher takes a swing, and gets ANOTHER HOLE IN ONE!!!!!!
Finally, after all 18 holes, the priest has gotten a hole in one at EVERY HOLE!!!!!
“But, God!” cried the smallest angel. “This is terrible! How could you let him get a hole in one every time, when he shouldn’t even be playing golf today?”
God turned to the angel with a smile. “Who can he tell about it?”
I told that story one Sunday morning as I stood before the church stalling for time as the choir director and choir were late to arrive and we were on radio and could not have dead air. The only problem is I did not tell the story that well.
As I reflected on it I realized why. I have an aversion to golf. No, don’t get me wrong. I love golf. I enjoy watching a small amount of it at times. All those beautiful greens.
I even went golfing with my father. He tried to show me the game and I was not bad at it. He even gave me a set of clubs.
One day we were on the fairway and he pulls out a driver, a wood. This would end up being a fortunate thing. He wanted me to watch his swing to see how to do it.
He placed me in position to get the best look. About 20 seconds later a 16 year old boy named Ronovan was grateful the club had been a wood instead of an iron. You see the wood is large and slightly rounded. The iron, well the name says it all.
Ronovan was grateful because the head of the club hit him squarely, dead center in the forehead. Ronovan did not fall down. He did not cry. He did not even make a sound.
He did get to drive the golf car the rest of the game and have a very nice meal afterwards.
I tell that story to show why I believe I did not do well at telling the previous story. I have an aversion to golf. Well that and the fact we were live on radio and my part of the service was finished on time and I had nothing left to go with. There is just so many times you can say Happy Birthday to the two little old ladies, especially when one was so proud of being the oldest lady in the church and was very smug about it.
A quote? I know that’s where this was to lead.
“Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching.”
For my superhero theme for the A to Z Challenge I give you a bonus today.
From the Avengers
I give you
“Pretty Sweet, Seriously”.
Does my enjoyment of #28 mean I am old?
What’s your favorite?
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I had some menacing words this week but I thought about it and decided, yes they are menacing. At what could be more menacing than this? For those who may be looking at the Dead Things Taste Good on the fridge? That means all foods. Not just meat. Someone said vegans might get offended. I actually considered that before I wrote those words. I thought it out. I don’t believe we eat anything that is alive. At least I hope I don’t.
A Beast Among Us
Until sated by the bean
Our day is unsafe.
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Mark Gungor is a man who speaks around the nation about of all things . . . marriage. Yes, after you watch this, he still does continue to speak on the subject and in all honesty I think it’s because he’s dead right and not afraid to say it.
You may find some things he says to be stereotyping but guess what? There is a reason they have those weird laws in your town like, don’t tie your giraffe to a lamp post in Atlanta, GA, or in Idaho you cannot fish from the back of a camel.
It’s because it’s happened. Stereotyping man and woman has been in the millennia in the making. Sit back, click, and enjoy without any guilt the truth that is the male brain and the female brain.
What are some things you’ve noticed are different between the male and female brain?
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015
In the last episode of The L.A.W. & Ronovan who met Ms. Marzapan and Hugh in a skytower or something like that, um, there was like this zombie dance troop and the L.A.W. and Ronovan, I mean me, I mean I discovered that Cyril Bussiere had created all these mind altering things to get rid of like all the Hugh’s of the world. I secretly think it’s because he is jealous of Hugh’s, well I won’t tell that now. Just wait. I just hope we catch him before that housekeeper that he left behind without a job does. Oh, and the Doctor showed up to give us a ride to London.
“Well that certainly was a bumpy landing,” the Doctor said.
“Indeed,” Elena said. She had taken on a British accent for some reason. Actually all of the L.A.W. had. I feared that if music started to play they would tell me what they want what they really, really want. But the door opened just in time.
We apparently had come to rest in some type of store.
“Ow!” Cat said.
I looked and she had an Oreo stuck to her head. “What the—,”
“Uh uh, Kate, none of that language,” Jenna said. “Hey, look!”
We all turned to follow her very excited finger. “Ruby slippers!” Kate said. She dove for them but they disappeared as her hands grasped nothing but empty air. Stinky empty air.
“What is that awful smell?” Amira asked.
“Smells like Troll feet,” I said.
“That’s because that is precisely what it was. Internet Troll feet,” the Doctor said.
“Oh, Doctor, I am so glad you came,” a woman said. We all turned.
“No way!” Jenna said.
“Yes way!” Amanda said.
“No, really no whey,” Jenna said looking at the case behind Amanda. “I love yogurt without whey in it. It’s a great substitute for sour cream and things like that. Lot less fat and calories. Yum!”
I looked at the Doctor. He looked at me. He went into the blue box thing. And then, gone. I couldn’t blame him.
“You know I so don’t blam—,”
I didn’t get the words out of my mouth before I found myself being tackled to the ground by several tough women. One that looked like a train. And one with a—Rudolph nose?
Screeching tires and the smell of burning rubber assaulted our senses. “Yeah, baby,” we heard. “I say, I didn’t see any rockin’ so I came a knockin’.”
We all stared at the man with the thick glasses, mop top hair and extremely tight pants. “It can’t be,” I said.
“Oh but it can, baby. Well, you’re not a baby, that’s just one of my catch phrases. Unless, wait you’re not a man!” Suddenly the insane1960s reject was trying to pull off my shirt and my hair.
“Austin Powers, get off of him,” Ms. Maple said.
Powers looked up and squinted at Ms. Maple. “Honey?” He asked. “Honey Maple, is that you?”
“Austin, I told you never to call me that in front of people,” Ms. Maple said. I had only seen her on Skype but I didn’t think the red flushed complexion was her natural look.
Powers got up and was at her side in a flash. “Groovy, baby. And I do mean baby,” he said. “At least I didn’t tell them why I call you Honey.”
Ms. Maple giggled like a school girl.
I looked at the others and saw various reactions from the rolling of eyes to dry heaving. There was even a reindeer being used as a gag to not laugh. I just hope it had not been tried on for a fitting.
“Should we ask him why he is here?” I asked.
“I say no,” Amira said.
“Agreed,” everyone else said in unison.
“Jenna,” Amanda said. “What did you find out in El Waco?”
For some reason none of us corrected her. It was like we had entered a Twilight Zone and decided we would just go with the flow. “Cyril Bussiere is behind it all, or at least he’s a top gun. Oh, I sooo loved that movie. And the songs. Oh, Take My Breath Away was sooo good. And then You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling. I just melt every time Ronovan si—,”
“Ahem,” I said.
“Oopsie,” Jenna said. Her smile flashed.
I shook my head. “You really need to explain to them someday that you have a friend named Ronovan or this could all get really weird.”
“For sure, right?” she said.
“Okay, as she was saying. French Texan blogger Cyril Bussiere, also author of The World Might available on Amazon at a reasonable price and can be followed on Twitter at @CyrilBussiere, came up with a special formula that looks and tastes just like—,”
“Yes?” Kate asked.
“You were there, Kate, you know,” Elena said. “You told us what it was.”
“Oh, right. Healthy Oreo cream,” Kate said.
“Not so healthy,” I said.
Amira was right. “And, we found blueprints,” I said.
“For what, a death ray?” Amanda asked.
“A sting ray?” Eloise asked.
“A blu ray?” Cat asked.
“Cat!” the rest of the L.A.W said.
“I got caught up, alright?”
“Mind controlling helmets that look like bowl cut hairstyles,” I said.
Amanda’s eyes got bigger than ever. I swear I saw photos of Thailand. “The royal family.”
“Exactly,” I said. “And possibly Rhianna and Miley Cyrus. Just saying.”
“Oh dear,” Amanda said.
“We can only stop all of this one way,” I said.
“How?” Seven female voices asked in harmony.
I just so hoped they didn’t discover they all loved ABBA. Mama Mia. “We go back in time.”
“What? How?” Eloise asked.
Amanda smiled, tilted her head to the right and gave her trademark look. “I know,” she said and pointed.
We all turned to follow her obviously mommy finger. The psychedelic painted Mini Cooper.
“No way,” said Jenna.
“Oh yeah, baby,” Amanda said.
“All aboard,” Eloise said.
I just had time to turn before Amanda ripped the onesie off.
“Oh dear,” Eloise said. “Thank goodness for this Batman onesie I had on underneath.”
I hung my head and just hoped that this would all be over soon. I had no idea crossing the ocean meant crossing into insanity. And here I always thought British women were hot. Maybe it was Australian women I was thinking of. Where was Olivia Newton John from again?
“Everyone in,” Elena said. “Ronovan, you first, backseat. Pile on the Ronovan time.” Okay maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. Wait, where was Hugh?
© Copyright-All rights reserved by ronovanwrites.wordpress.com 2015
It’s after midnight
Santa’s done been and gone
His reindeer were a bit messy
They took liberties on the lawn
I guess that’s okay
As long as I get something nice
I wonder if I’ll get
The complete series of Miami Vice
I’ve eaten enough dressing
I’ve had a lot of the oink
Too bad this year
I didn’t get a Christmas . . .
Anyway, I should be asleep
But that doesn’t seem to be the case
I keep considering taking a peek at the tree
But there is not even a nightlight in this place
What do I really want for Christmas
Well let me count them one by one
I would like to have a literary agent
Who makes deals like they’re holding a gun
Give me a one of a kind thought
To write a best selling book
One with a lot of action
And a lot of steam for the leads as they cook
Find me the right publisher
Who thinks I am the best
Takes me under their wing
And ignores all the rest
Then give me a life long talent
To write book after book a hit
So whenever I need to express myself
All I need is a laptop and a place to sit
Give me a muse to inspire me
Make her something to behold
Give her all my dreams fulfilled
Even the ones I’ve never told
Now I best get to sleep
I hear an odd thumping
It’s either Santa back for another pass
Or there is someone upstairs um bumping
PS: There’s not really any good oink around here anyway. Just saying.
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