Blog #405                                December 12, 2024

 

Shakespeare and I are alone.  My wife left town on Monday with Jennifer, my North Carolina daughter, to visit a spa in Texas as a celebration of Carol’s upcoming birthday.  No, I won’t tell you which birthday.  I have been sworn to secrecy upon punishment of either castration or having to watch three episodes of The View.  Whatever her age is, she doesn’t look it.  By the way, I chose castration.  So now, of course, I’m lonely.  I’m as lonely as Venus de Milo’s manicurist. 

 

On the plus side, with her gone, I’m the undisputed master of the house.  I can do anything I want.  I can watch anything I want on the television.  I can eat anything I want, dress any way I like and sleep as late as I care to.  It’s good to be the King.  Just please don’t tell the Queen

 

But now that I can do anything I want, what am I going to do?  I could go out to a bar and pick up a young chick, except my wife tells me the only way I could pick up a young chick would be to stand on my wallet, and my wallet isn’t big enough.  I could get high on alcohol or pot, except I gave up smoking in 1995 and drinking in 2007.  Wait, I’ve got it – gambling.  So I drove to a casino, played the nickel poker machines for 20 minutes and got a free Diet Coke.  I lost $4.  I would not have done well in Sodom and Gomorrah.  And I’m as lonely as Lady Godiva’s seamstress.

 

But I have my loyal cat.  And I have you.  Hi there and welcome back.  I hope you’re feeling well and working on your New Year’s Resolutions.  I’m having trouble this year.  I’ve given up smoking already and drinking and ice cream and red meat.  I’m not overweight.  I do my exercises.  I’m nice to my family and friends.  I’m not messy.  So I put a lot of thought into this year’s resolution.  Here it is: In 2025, I resolve to make you smile at least once a week.

 

Let’s see if I can squeeze a snicker out of you with this.  When Simple Simon said to the Pie-Man, “Let me taste your wares,” what did the pie-man say?  He replied, “My whats?”  “No,” said Simon, “your wares.”  “Ok,” said the Pie-Man:

 

I have a few wheres and some whats

They’re loaded with sprinkles and nuts

Some nows and some thens

Some whys and some whens

But sorry, no ifs, ands or buts.

 

After all these years, are you tired of my psychotic poetry yet?  The border between genius and madness is subtle.  Did I tell you I’m as lonely as Kamala Harris’ campaign manager?  

 

Other people, of course, are making their New Year’s Resolutions:

 

·        Joe Biden said “I promise not to pardon Hunter.  Wait, what?  I did already?  I must be a lying dog-faced pony soldier.”

·        Elon Musk resolved to carry at least one of his children on his shoulders at all times

·        And my wife and I have made a joint resolution to get matching tattoos.  We’ve already picked them out.  Mine says I LOVE CAROL.  So does hers.

 

Well, since I’m as lonely as Will Smith’s booking agent, my daughter and my friends have stepped up to the plate to take care of me with breakfast meetings and lunch and dinner.  I guess they think I’m too stupid to do anything for myself.  They must have read my blogs.

 

I hope my wife sleeps better in Texas than she does here.  I’ve tried telling her stories, but she says I don’t talk fast enough.  I have suggested that she try going to the Opera – that always puts me to sleep -- but instead she keeps trying new cocktails and stratagems, all suggested by her friends who are quick to give her a list of things to try, none of which has ever worked for them.  “I take organic cherry juice to sleep and it never works.  You should try it.”  Recently, one of these well-meaning friends told her about white noise, random sounds that she could find on her phone.  Having selected three different ones and unable to decide which was best, she played all three simultaneously: screeching psychotic birds, torrential tropical monsoons and another that was just loud.  Amid the cawing, dripping and screaming – she could not sleep, and neither could I.  The next day I called the well-meaning friend to ask her if this night-time cacophony actually helped her sleep.  “Hell no,” she confessed, “but it keeps my husband up all night.  Why should he sleep if I can’t?” 

 

Message from Shakespeare:  She is never sad but when she sleeps (Much Ado About Nothing).  I sleep just fine.  I don’t understand why these humans want to sleep when it’s dark outside. And did I hear him say he’s the undisputed master of the house.  That’s what he thinks.  Come here, you old man and scratch my ear.  Yes, you’re such a good boy. Purr.

 

If I haven’t made you laugh yet?  Let’s try this:

 

Frank and Kevin, best friends, are having a beer.

Frank:  Kev, you look depressed.

Kevin:  You know, I’m pushing 30 and I want to settle down, but every time I find a nice girl and bring her home, my Mom hates her.

Frank:  Take my advice, find a girl that’s exactly like your Mom.

Kevin:  I tried that.  I found a girl who looks like my Mom, talks like my Mom, even cooks like her.

Frank:  Did your Mom like her?

Kevin:  Of course she did, but my Dad couldn’t stand her.

 

I hope my grandiloquence hasn’t bored you. Grandiloquence, our Weekly Word, is the use of extravagant or pompous language, so I guess that just using the word automatically makes you grandiloquent. And now, we’re getting to the end of the blog and the end of the week.  Carol is coming home tomorrow, and I’m as happy as a sunflower on a summer’s day.

 

Stay well and count your blessings.  I’ll be back next week with something or other to talk about.  Be there.  I hope this week’s edition has made you all as happy as a bunch of mosquitoes at a nudist colony.  See you next week.

 

Michael                                    Send comments to mfox1745@gmail.com