Blog #356                                January 4, 2024

 

Carol has a sleeping problem, and she is constantly looking for ideas to help her sleep.  Someone suggested CBN, which is, I believe, a marijuana derivative.  Pot sales are legal now in Missouri, so off we went to the marijuana market.  I wish they had asked me what to name it because I have the perfect name for a store that sells mind-altering drugs – Quick Trip.  The place, including all the people working there, was as bizarre as the Star Wars Cantina, but Carol bought a few pills and we left.  She hasn’t tried them yet, but I’ll keep you posted.

 

Speaking of pot, McDonald’s has a new spinoff opening soon in Seattle.  Instead of Mickey D’s, they’re calling it Mary Jane’s.  The whole menu is based on marijuana and CBD derivatives.  Its most popular item is the Really Happy Meal:

 

Now Mary Jane’s totally woke

And most of our food you can smoke

We know what you need

Quarter Pounder with Weed

Hemp Fries and a Large Diet Toke.

 

Wake up, People!  It’s a new year and I’m still as nuts as I was in 2023.  Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you are feeling well and I wish you a happy, happy year to come.  Another year!  Use it kindly; you will not have it long.  But don’t worry.  I shall be at your side, your guide and cicerone through another year of lunacy, humor and strange new words.  Like cicerone, our Weekly Word.  It means a guide who gives information to tourists.

 

One of you tourists sent me a comment last week wishing me a Happy New Year and thanking me for making her Thursdays extra-special.  That was very nice.  Reading all your comments makes my Thursdays extra-special too.  It's the other six days when I have to write this crap that are dreary.

 

I’m only kidding.  My life is reasonably happy and I do not complain.  But it was not always so.  There was a time when I was not happy.  And don’t say that’s because I was Grumpy, Sleepy and Dopey.  No, it was 2007 and I was visiting a shrink twice a week for depression.  I was also listening to Arlo Guthrie’s song Alice’s Restaurant, all 22½ minutes of it, every night.  Every single night for an entire year.  He thought I was obsessive-compulsive.  I guess he was right.  I hope I’m not spilling too much personal information here, but we are kind of family, right?

 

Television news reports love to show Iranian street mobs burning American flags.  Where do they get all these American flags in Iran?  Where would you go to get an Iranian flag should you feel so juvenile as to burn one?  I am beginning to believe that the entire Iranian flap is being fomented by the guy who makes American flags.  His sales of American flags must be on fire.  And his sales of suicide vests are booming.

 

Next Sunday will be my 78th birthday.  I’m not upset.  It’s just another candle on the cake, another notch on life’s belt, another nail in the ever-closing coffin.  I thought getting older would take longer. But, as God said to Methuselah, “If you can make it to 800, your chances of reaching 900 are pretty good.”  Still, old is old.

 

·        I’m so old, they’ve discontinued my blood type.

·        I’m so old, I found a picture of Cleopatra in my Yearbook.

·        I’m so old, I have an autographed Bible.

·        I’m so old my license plate is in Roman numerals.

·        I’m so old, I walked into an antique store and people started to bid on me.

 

Is that enough?  The only consolation I have is that many of you out there are older than me.  Sorry about that.  But you look marrrrvellous!  I’m not so certain about me, however.  I just took a hard look in the mirror and tried to count my wrinkles.  I stopped counting at Oh, my God and told Carol I wanted to get my face done.  She looked at me, the sweet, sugar-tongued, loving woman that she is, and said, “I like you wrinkled.”  That made me feel so much better. 

 

Last Sunday night, New Year’s Eve, I got dressed about two hours early.  This was necessary, of course, because I knew my sweet wife would have something to say about my sartorial choices.  She did.  In fact, she rejected my first attempt, my second attempt and my third.  I felt like a square table.  Eventually, I believe it was the fifth try, she pronounced me “streetable” and we left for a lovely dinner with friends.  I looked marrrrvelous!  So, of course, did my beautiful wife.  We got home early and I began to get ready for bed.  Part of that nightly ritual contains taking my plant for a walk.  Do you ever take your plant for a walk?  I have only one plant, Nemo, a small jade plant that I transplanted from a branch that fell off my neighbor’s plant about two years ago.  Nemo spends the winter in the kitchen, with minimal light.  At night, however, I take Nemo for a walk into my study where I place her on my desk underneath the lamp that is on all night.  She does not talk or smile, but I think she likes the light all night long.  Did I not tell you I was nuts?

 

Message from Shakespeare:  Joy, gentle friends! Joy and fresh days of love (A Midsummer Night’s Dream).  I was alone New Year’s Eve, just me and that stupid plant.  Then Pops came home and we jumped into bed and watched some ball drop somewhere.  I would have preferred a mouse.  Purr.

 

Rotten Oysters:  Yes, it’s time for a movie review.  I saw The Color Purple on Monday.  The opening song was a rousing, cheerful number.  The acting was good; the singing voices were great and there were plenty of familiar actors.  But, to me, it fell short of being consistently entertaining.  I’ll give it a 2½ out of five.

 

Well, all good things must end.  I hope you had a lovely New Year’s Eve and are itching to read more Limerick Oysters in 2024.  Stay well, count your blessings and remember, you can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.  And you really do look marrrrvellous!

 

Michael                                    Sent comments to mfox1746@gmail.com