C.L. Beck: Write Up My Alley

Thoughtful Thursday--A Tomato... by C.L. Beck

2012-01-26T08:58:00.006-07:00

Here it is, Thoughtful Thursday, which was preceded by Wordless Wednesday, which came a day or two (depending on your perspective) after Muddled Monday. I seem to have quite a few Muddled Mondays ... sometimes eight or ten a week.

Oh, all right. Not really. But hey, sometimes it feels that way.

Thoughtful Thursday quote:

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. ~ Author unknown.

Wordless Wednesday--Roses ... by C.L. Beck

2012-01-25T09:33:00.005-07:00

Roses

Have a happy, Wordless Wednesday!

-----Roses © C.L. (Cindy) Beck-----

Cool-Findz and a Contest at City Gal Moves to Oz Land

2012-01-02T06:49:00.004-07:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy Lynn) Beck
Tags: Cool-Findz, contest, giveaway, Zazzle

In case you were wondering, here's the latest news at my end of the planet. Two of my awesome bloggy friends, Susan at City Gal Moves to Oz Land, and Misty at My Dogs Keep Me Sane, have started a new blog with me. Wahoo!

Susan
(Although she doesn't really look like this 'cause that image is just an avatar!)

Misty
(Who probably looks a little like this, but I only know her from the bloggy world so can't say for sure.)

Me
(Who hasn't looked like this for many years. Maybe never, since I "skinnied" myself up just for your benefit!)

Yup, we started a new blog. Like we seriously did not have anything else to do, right? Oh yah, sure. :)

We couldn't help it though, because we came up with this idea and it seemed like such a good one. Cool-Findz is our new collaborative blog to introduce our readers to the best of Zazzle. Throughout the year, we'll post our favorites from all the Zazzle stores we find in the Zazzle universe. There's some seriously cool stuff on Zazzle! We don't have a lot posted there yet, but we will soon, so take a peek at Cool-Findz when you get a minute and check out the items we've showcased in the right sidebar.

In keeping with that, Susan is doing a $25 gift certificate giveaway, and I thought you might want to know about it. Valentine's Day will be here before you know it ... and then Mother's Day ... and Father's Day ... and ... well, not to mention birthdays. But you get my drift, right? And it would be nice to have $25 of awesome Zazzle stuff to give to family, friends, or just keep for yourself.

Here's the info, taken from Susan's blog at City Gal Moves to Oz Land. Remember, the contest is being done at her blog and you'll need to go there to enter.

A New Year = A New Zazzle Giveaway!

Here's our kick-off into the New Year ~ I'm featuring a Zazzle giveaway on my blog, City Gal Moves to Oz Land ~ along with two of my bestest bloggy friends, Cindy from Write Up My Alley and Misty Dawn from My Dogs Keep Me Sane. (Cindy, Misty and I are the three crazy authors of a new blog, Cool-Findz!)

Here's how the Zazzle giveaway works: You visit each of our Zazzle stores using the links below, find one item you like from each store, and mention it on my [Susan's] blog in a comment.

Be sure to hike over to my [Susan's] blog

to actually enter the giveaway!

If you want extra entries, you are more than welcome to Tweet out this giveaway or mention it on Facebook, just let Susan know in an extra comment that you've done so.

The winner will get their pick of any item up to $25 from one of our three Zazzle stores!

Note: This giveaway will end on January 27th at midnight, PST.

The winner will be announced between January 28th and 29th. I [Susan] will advise the winner of any current Zazzle promotions so that they can maximize the $25 they have to spend!

Here are the links to our Zazzle stores:
Misty Dawn's Photography
By The Becks
Wheatgrass Designs Photography

Tell you what, I'll make the giveaway pot a lil sweeter -- become a follower of Cool-Findz, add a comment over on my [Susan's] blog letting me know, and you'll get a bonus TWO entries into this month's country giveaway!!

So get visiting, post your comments on my [Susan's] blog about what you'd like to win from each store, and good luck to every one of you!

And my best wishes to everyone for a fabulous 2012!!!

~ Susan

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T00:01:00.002-07:00

By C.L. (Cindy Lynn) Beck

Happy 2012!

May it be a happy, healthy, prosperous year for all!

Help Me Up My Clod Score ... by C.L. Beck

2011-12-30T09:25:00.012-07:00

By C.L. (Cindy Lynn) Beck

Tags: Yahoo! Voices, Wil Wheaton, writing, Angry Birds, hooters, clout score

About a hundred years ago, I hatched a brilliant plan. Oh, all right, it was really only 2 years, 2 months and some odd days, and the plan was mediocre, but this is a semi-true story which means I get to say what I want and disguise it as truth.

But ... already I've digressed.

Anyway, so, a hundred years ago (minus 98 years), I conceived of a brilliant plan to make it rich on the Internet. None of you have ever thought of that, right? No visions of blogging your way to a head of hair like Donald Trump's, or dreams of making a YouTube video that goes viral and you end up being mentioned on Wil Wheaton's website.

Yes, Wil Wheaton. You know, the kid that played Wesley Crusher on Star Trek, eons ago. Yup, he blogs about being a geek, in language that my mother would not condone, and makes money off it. I'd give you the link but I'm jealous that he's making moolah and don't want him making any off me.

M. O. O. L. A. H.

Don't ask me why he's making money. The article I read was about hooters and I missed the humor. Or the reason why the site could get a multitude of hits and provide an income.

"Russ!" I hollered to my hubby as he sat working at his desk in the other room. "Do you remember Wil Wheaton? Why would he make money blogging about owls?"

There was a long, poignant pause. I thought Russ was strolling down memory lane, to the days of his youth when he played with Star Trek toys and pretended to blow up planet Alpha Beta Krappa. And then I remembered we were already married when Wil Wheaton was part of the cast, and how I had put my foot down and said that a 30-year-old man who slept with a woman at night (that would be me) did not need Star Trek toys.

I peeked in around his door. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm."

I stepped closer and looked at his computer screen. I scratched my head. "Why are those birds beating up on a couple of pigs?"

Russ's eyes never left the screen. "It's called Angry Birds, and the pigs are stealing the birds' eggs."

"I don't get the point. Pigs can't climb trees, so how can they steal bird eggs?" I scratched my head again. (It's not that I have lice. I mention scratching my head as a writing technique so you'll know I was perplexed.)

And then I realized that it didn't matter. No, not about the lice, but about pigs. We live in a world of make-believe, where pigs can't fly but can climb trees, where a viral video does not carry germs that give someone a cold, and where under-employed actors can make money by blogging about owls.

By now you're probably all wondering what this has to do with my brilliant plan from yesteryear. Well, since I didn't realize one had to be a star the caliber of Wil Wheaton to make money off the Internet, I started writing articles for Associated Content. Which just recently became Yahoo! Voices. And may eventually become something else. Hopefully not Articles Submitted for Free.

My goal was to make money off my writings. And to reach what is known as a high Clod Score. Oops, typo. I mean "Clout" Score. Don't ask me how it works, or why management came up with that concept, but I think it had something to do with the submitting authors making it rich when pigs fly.

So far, I've made a grand total of approximately $707 and .2348765 cents there. Sadly, I'm not sure which of my articles earned the .2348765 cents, but I'm sure it was of Pulitzer prize quality. Or close.

All of which means that over the past 2 years, 2 months and some odd days, I've earned roughly $1/day. I'm sure my pay is so low because I haven't reached the coveted Clod 9 level. If I could only reach Clod 9, I'd make a whopping 15¢ more per thousand page views. Yes, friends, that means every time someone reads one of my articles (all articles are only one page in length, even if they're the size of War and Peace), I get an additional .015¢ more per article than I got before reaching Clod 9.

Or is that .000015¢?

I'm not sure. Math was never my strong point. And apparently writing isn't either, based on my $1/day.

Here's the thing. Now's your chance to prove that underpaid writers are just as important as under-employed actors who blog about owls. Head out to my Yahoo! Voices page and click open one of my articles. Hey, it would even be great if you read it! But, if you're not in the mood for reading, look at one of my slideshows with purty pictures. Either will work. I need 488 additional page views to hit Clod 9 before 2012 rings in.

2012. That's like ... really, really soon. So don't waste any time, because we all know that under-employed actors should not make more money at writing than underpaid writers.

Oh, in case you're wondering, my hubby has explained that Wil Wheaton was not writing about owls. He was writing about Hooters. You know, the restaurant that features waitresses with big ... ummm, I'm trying to think how to say it nicely ... chests. Bosoms.

Ah ha! The fog clears, and it becomes evident to you and me how Wheaton had lots of hits on that article!

Happy Holidays... by C.L. Beck

2011-12-24T22:28:00.005-07:00

From our little house to yours ... wishing you
a happy holiday season and a merry Christmas!

~ Cindy

Photo © Cindy Beck

"Circle of Sisters" Call for Submissions

2011-12-20T09:13:00.001-07:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: Call for submissions, story shout-out, JoLyn Brown, Circle of Sisters

Photo © Paiviti

A good friend of mine, JoLyn Brown, is compiling true stories for a book titled Circle of Sisters. Here's what JoLyn says about her project:

Every day, ordinary women who belong to the Relief Society Organization put their hands in the Lord's and go to work. These women rely on personal revelation to get them to the right place at the right time, and every day, miracles are happening. I know that you have seen these miracles in your own lives. I know they have changed you for the better... My goal is to create a collection of these stories.

Since starting this project, I have been amazed at how much clearer the purpose of Relief Society Organization has become to me. As I searched my own life for experiences that changed me, I have seen how even in times when I thought I was giving the service, I received so much in return. It seems our lives are interconnected, with each person's story overlapping and reaching into another's. Our power to make a difference is remarkable and with the Lord's help, we can each experience first hand what it feels like to be a part of something incredible.

Please keep in mind that I will not be able to offer any payment for your stories, but this may be a chance for you to get publishing credits which is always great.

JoLyn has a publisher who's expressed interest in the concept, and if you're interested in sharing your story with her, click here for the submission guidelines. The deadline for submissions is January 14th, 2012.

$25 Sam's Club/Chex Mix-change Winner

2011-12-14T16:07:00.003-07:00

$25 Sam's Club Gift Card and Chex Party Mix-Change Winner

Tags: Giveaway, Chex Party Mix, Sam's Club, MyBlogSpark

It's time to announce the winner of the $25 Sam's Club/Chex Mix-change Giveaway. According to the random generator at Random.org, the winner is ...

JC!

Congrats, JC, and enjoy your $25 Sam's Club card and your Chex cereal.

(Thanks to all who entered! Disclosure: The $25 Sam's Club/Chex Mix-change Giveaway has been provided by Sam's Club and Chex through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own.)

A Sunny Holiday Giveaway

2011-12-07T08:38:00.005-07:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy Beck)
Tags: Sunny Holiday, giveaway, Zazzle

If you could choose any career you wanted, what would it be? If I couldn't be a writer, my other chosen profession would be that of a very rich philanthropist. (You noticed I added "very rich" into that phrase, huh? :o)

Why would I choose that? Because I love to help others by giving things away. And what could be more fun than having so much money that you had a grundle of greenbacks to give to those that needed them?

Even though I'm not a rich philanthropist (well, not yet anyway), I'm still lucky/blessed enough to have the opportunity to give things away occasionally. Right now, my friends and I are holding a fun, $20 gift certificate giveaway until Dec 28. The winner gets to spend $20 at any of the 6 shops listed below. It's easy to enter ... just go to A Sunny Holiday Giveaway and follow the instructions!

To give you a taste of the fun things you could purchase with your winnings, here's where you'll be shopping ...

Misty Dawn Photography
Misty Dawn Seidel is a nature photographer who's photography includes wildlife, domestic animals, macro photography, sunsets, abstract, landscapes and more. If it catches my eye, she photographs it. At her shop you can find a variety of gifts printed with her photos. You can see more of her photos here.

A Bit o' Sunshine
Ruthi Cox is an artist, photographer and poet...and she combines all three in the products she designs in her shops at CafePress and Zazzle. Her words dance with the art and pictures, encouraging readers to live life to the fullest.

(The winner can shop at either store, but will need to choose between her CafePress or Zazzle shop).

Send Out Cards
Send Out Cards is a company that makes it easy and inexpensive to send cards to loved ones. The $20 credit you can win covers the cost of setting up an account plus 15 regular cards (non photo type ) or 10 photos cards with postage, if you choose to spend it there. To see all the great variety of cards they have, just click the "Send Free Card" link. (Don't worry, you don't actually have to send a free card...but hey, it's free, so why not!)

By the Becks
This shop has a wide variety of fun gifts to make you smile. They also have touching breast cancer awareness gifts, and the family which runs this shop donates 5% of the proceeds from each of these to Susan G. Komen Foundation and other breast cancer charities.

Wheatgrass Designs
Wheatgrass Designs features the photography of Oz Girl. She grew up in Akron, Ohio, then moved to Rural Kansas, where many of the photos in her shop were taken. Her photos are eclectic, ranging from bright and vibrant flowers to western and rural countryside themes.

Scribbleprints
If you've been following this blog long you know Scribbleprints is where I share my artistic side (and my funny side too). The features my wild scribble art and humor, plus just a touch of water color painting and photography. I have shops both at CafePress and Zazzle.

COUPONS TO HELP YOU SHOP FOR THE HOLIDAY!
This giveaway doesn't end until after Christmas, but you can shop right now at these shops and save with the following coupons:

AT Scribbleprints, Wheatgrass Designs, By the Becks, A Bit o' Sunshine, and Misty Dawn Photography use coupon code CARD4HOLIDAY for 50% off Cards! (Zazzle Shops Only).

Get a Free Card at Send Out Cards! Click the link for more info!

There are multiple ways to enter, so head over to A Sunny Holiday Giveaway now, and get your entries in!

$25 Sam's Club/ Chex Mix-Change Giveaway

2011-12-05T11:43:00.009-07:00

$25 Sam's Club Gift Card and Chex Party Mix-Change Giveaway

Tags: Giveaway, Chex Party Mix, Sam's Club, MyBlogSpark

Yes, oh yes, it's time once again for Chex Party Mix! However, let me tell you with sincere conviction that any time of year is Chex Party Mix time in my book. Honestly, that's how I've felt since my first taste of it when I was a youngster!

So ... have I told you before how much I love the stuff? Well, of course I have, and I even gave you a recipe my mom introduced to our family many years ago, back when the earth was young and giant animal species roamed the planet. (You'll note I did not say, "Dinosaurs roamed the earth" because that would get me in trouble with Mom.)

At any rate, I can not say enough good things about Chex Party Mix. To top it all off, Chex and Sam's Club, along with MyBlogSpark, are offering the chance to win a $25 Sam's Club Card and a box of Chex in the Chex Party Mix-Change Giveaway.

What Chex Says
Searching for ways to mix up this year’s holiday bash? Then why not host a Chex® Party Mix-Change, a modern spin on the traditional cookie swap with a delicious and savory twist! With several Chex Party Mix recipes that can be made in just 15 minutes and Sam’s Club stores providing you with everything needed to host a fabulous party, there’s no excuse to not call on family and friends for a celebration.In fact, with all of the extra prep time being saved, you’ll be able to spend more time mingling with your guests this year than working in the kitchen.

How to throw the ultimate Sam’s Club Chex Party Mix-Change:

Set the date and spread the word. Announce your Chex Party Mix-Change using some of these festive invites
Mix it up. Use these mouth-watering Chex recipe cards including Chex Pumpkin Pie Crunch and Hot Buttered Yum Chex Mix and this shopping list to make party prep a snap
Share the fun. Use some of these easy tips & tricks to add some extra flare to your party and check out some of the packaging ideas so your guests don’t go home empty handed

Visit ChexPartyMixChange.com for even more party-planning tips and be sure to also check out Sam’s Club, your one stop Chex spot that has everything you need to throw a Chex Party Mix-Change!

A few handy links:

Chex Website: http://bit.ly/ChexPM
Sam’s Club Website: http://bit.ly/vYc3Et

Giveaway Rules for Sam's Club $25 Gift Card and Chex Cereal
Runs from Dec 5 to Midnight, MT, Dec 11 2011.

For one entry: Leave a comment on this blog article. If you can't think of anything to say, share which of the ChexPartyMixChange.com recipes you might like to try. (I'm thinking the Chex Pumpkin Pie Crunch sounds soooo yummy, and the idea of a party mix-change instead of a cookie ex-change sounds like a blast!)

For two additional entries (making a total of 3): After leaving a comment on this blog, click on this link and leave a comment at the bottom of my story, "Fast Chase (Story about a Police Office and a Sheltie)." It's written under my pen name, Cindy Lynn. Don't forget to mention you came there by way of my blog so that you get credit. Should the Internet act funky and you're unable to leave a comment, you can verify you were there by sending me an email at cindybeck dot author at yahoo dot com, and telling me the name of the officer.

If I don't already have your address, please leave your email, Twitter, or Facebook address here so I can contact you. The winner will be announced the week of December 12.

(Thanks for entering! Disclosure: The Chex cereal, Sam's Club gift card, giveaway information, and prize pack have been provided by Sam's Club, Chex Party Mix, and General Mills through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)

Winner of the Seventh Generation Dishsoap Giveaway

2011-12-02T14:10:00.006-07:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Tags: Giveaway, Seventh Generation, MyBlogSpark

It's time to announce the winner of the Seventh Generation Dishsoap Giveaway. According to the random generator at Random.org, the winner is ...

Schmidty!

Congrats to Schmidty, and thanks to all who entered.

(Disclosure: The Seventh Generation information and giveaway have been provided by Seventh Generation through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and/or my discretion.)

Wordless Wednesday ... 1899 Chevy Corvette

2011-11-30T15:32:00.008-07:00

1899 Chevy Corvette

Have a happy, Wordless Wednesday!

-----1899 Chevy Corvette © C.L. (Cindy) Beck-----

Have a Good One ... by C. L. Beck

2011-11-24T08:22:00.003-07:00

(Image received in an email, author/ source unknown.)

Zazzle Me!

2011-11-21T16:18:00.003-07:00

By Cindy Beck

Tags: unique gifts, Christmas gifts, online gifts

Background image © Flaivoloka

The holidays are swooping in like a vulture over a dead cow ... er ... sorry, my writer's imagination got the better of me. Let me rephrase ... like a shooting star in the night sky! (Ah yes, a much better analogy.) And you don't want to give the same ol' greeting cards and gifts this year, do you?

No more holiday cards from _____Mart (fill in the blank). No more bland ties for the men on your list, or hankies for the women. (Does anybody buy hankies anymore?) Instead check out these unique gifts from my own Zazzle store, as well as ones that I like from other store owners.

Your friends will love this card!
Christmas Greeting Card-Outhouse by ByTheBecks

Who can resist postage to match the card?
Postage Stamp-Christmas Outhouse by ByTheBecks

The perfect gift for that little miss! Click here to see it from different angles.
Snowman Shoes by ByTheBecks

Great for Dad, Granddad or brothers!
Old Pickup Truck Sweatshirt by ByTheBecks

Great gift for LDS friends, family ... or yourself!
Manti LDS Temple iPhone 4 Case by ByTheBecks

Great gift for LDS friends, family ... or yourself!
Salt Lake LDS Temple iPhone 4 Case by ByTheBecks

Wonderful keepsake for a cancer survivor.
Pink Ribbon Teddy Bear Christmas Ornament by ByTheBecks

Nice gift for those who know life is not for sissies.
Native American Scaling a Peak by ByTheBecks

-------------------------------------------

Didn't see the perfect gift yet? Click here to view the rest of my Zazzle creations.

For products from a world full of creators ... or to create your own unique
gift items, click on the image below!

Seventh Generation Dish Soap Giveaway

2011-11-17T11:01:00.006-07:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Tags: Giveaway, Seventh Generation, MyBlogSpark

Although wizards might have house elves to clean up after supper, we mortals end up washing dishes--unless we can convince our spouses to do the deed for us. And if we have to spend time in soapy water, we might as well have it smell good, so it can transport us off to a fantasy land at the same time it's removing food residue the dishes. Seventh Generation dish soaps can't actually take us anywhere, but when I tried them, the fragrances certainly were enjoyable. My favorites so far are Lemongrass and Clementine Zest, and Fresh Citrus and Ginger.

What Seventh Generation Says:
The power of scent is remarkable. It can have positive effects on your mood, reduce stress, and even help you sleep better. But not all scents are created equal. The fruit, floral and herbal ingredients used to create the scents in Seventh Generation’s new natural dish liquid come from fields, not factories.

Seventh Generation dish liquid contains only essential oils and botanical extracts, and delivers real cleaning power. Your tableware will be left fresh and ready to serve your next home cooked meal.

With authentic ingredients like lavender from the fields of Drome in the foothills of the Alps, clementines from sunny Calabria and lemons from the soils of Sicily, Seventh Generation natural dish liquid is free of unnecessary synthetic colors or chemically engineered scents.

Enter the “Nature Makes Perfect Scents” sweepstakes at seventhgeneration.com/scents and you can have the chance to take a trip for two to visit one of the sourcing sites of Seventh Generation natural dish liquid fragrance ingredients. Visit seventhgeneration.com/scents to learn more about each scent’s origin.

The Seventh Generation Prize Pack

(4) bottles of Seventh Generation natural dish liquid varieties in Free & Clear, Lavender Floral & Mint, Fresh Citrus & Ginger, and Lemongrass & Clementine Zest scents

Premium 3 Qt. 12” x 9” Baking Dish from Le Creuset

(2) Twist© loofah sponges and (2) Twist© scour pads made from 100% post-recycled materials

Set of 3 organic cotton dish towels

Seventh Generation Links
Seventh Generation Website http://bit.ly/SevGen
Seventh Generation on Facebook http://on.fb.me/SevGenFbook
Seventh Generation on Twitter http://bit.ly/SevGenTwitter
“Nature Makes Perfect Scents” sweepstakes page http://bit.ly/SevGenSweeps

Giveaway Rules for Seventh Generation Prize Pack
Runs from Nov 17 to Midnight, MT, Nov 27 2011.

For one entry: Leave a comment on this blog article. If you can't think of anything to say, tell which of the Seventh Generation natural dish liquid varieties you are most interested in trying.

For two additional entries (making a total of 3): After leaving a comment on this blog, click on this link, and leave a comment at the bottom of my slideshow, "The Art of Rolling Over, as Perfected by Corky Porky Pie." It's written under my pen name, Cindy Lynn, and there are only 4 photos, so it's a quick peek. Should the Internet decide to act funky and you're unable to leave a comment, verify that you were there by sending an email to cindybeck dot author at yahoo dot com, and tell me what type ground Corky Porky is on.

If I don't already have your address, please leave your email, Twitter, or Facebook address here so I can contact you. The winner will be announced the week of November 28.

(Thanks for entering! Disclosure: The Seventh Generation information and giveaway have been provided by Seventh Generation through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)

Winner of the Kroger $25 Gift Card Giveaway

2011-11-11T07:45:00.003-07:00

Tags: (Kroger, MyBlogSpark, giveaway)

It's time to announce the winner of the Kroger $25 Gift Card Giveaway. According to the random generator at Random.org, the winner is ...

Anonymous (Tami)!

She not only commented here, but also picked up two additional entries by commenting at my article, "Gardening Superstitions."

Congrats, Tami, and have fun with your Kroger gift card.

(Thanks to all who entered! Disclosure: The Kroger Gift Card Giveaway prize has been provided by Kroger through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own.)

Thoughts for Thursday: On Fishing

2011-11-03T07:55:00.005-06:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Tags: Thoughts, quotes, writer, humor

It's time once again for "Thoughts for Thursday" which theoretically occurs every week at this site, and so far has only happened twice in the past month. But hey ... I need time to hit my stride!

So here, without further ado, are the Thoughts for Thursday:

See more Lolcats and funny pictures.

Kroger $25 Gift Card Giveaway ... and a Tale of Chocolate Cake

2011-10-31T09:55:00.007-06:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Tags: Kroger, General Mills, MyBlogSpark

Photo © Machadow

Yesterday I'd planned on having chocolate cake as the dessert for Sunday dinner. I baked the cake ...

Oh, all right; I can not tell a lie. I didn't really bake it. Betty Crocker is good friends with my hubby, Russ, and she helped him make it! But, I did frost it which should count for something.

Anyway, so we had this yummy, chocolatey, moist cake (Am I making you hungry yet?) just waiting to tickle our taste buds, and when we opened the fridge to get a glass of cold milk to go with it ... acckkkk!

Low on milk. Very low.

The choice was milk with cake, or milk with breakfast. I would have opted for milk with cake, but Russ isn't too fond of having his breakfast shredded-wheat-thingies-that-taste-like-a-cereal-box without milk.

Improvisation became necessary, and I now know from experience that lemonade and chocolate cake do not go particularly well together. It would have been better to pair the lemonade with the shredded-wheat-thingies-that-taste-like-a-cereal-box. Especially since it would have been Russ eating that for breakfast, while I could've had another piece of chocolate cake to start my day!

All of which leads me to a point. Kroger is having a cool event in which shoppers can receive free milk. Plus, a $25 Gift Card Giveaway! Here's the scoop from Kroger on the free milk.

What Kroger Says

Want to save even more when shopping at Kroger? Purchase any four participating General Mills products* that your family knows and loves and Kroger will reward you for your purchases. It´s that simple! Head to your local Kroger to take advantage of this great offer:

From November 13th through November 26th, with the purchase of any four participating General Mills products, you will either receive free milk (up to $3; limit of 2) or to receive $3 off your shopping order**

Look for some of your favorite participating General Mills products like Cheerios, Pillsbury Ready to Bake Cookies, Nature Valley Bars and Fiber One Bars

Promotion varies in different locations. Please be sure to check your local Kroger Co. Family of Stores for specific deals and offers which include Kroger, Ralphs, King Scoopers, City Market, Dillons, Smith´s, Fry´s, QFC, Baker´s, Owen´s, Jay C Food Stores, Hilander, Gerbes, Food4Less, Fred Meyer, Pay Less Supermarkets and Scott´s Food & Pharmacy

What´s better than being rewarded for buying your favorite products from your favorite store? Visit Kroger.com for more information and great ways to save and be sure to check out the Kroger Facebook page to join the conversation and share which General Mills products you´d like to stock up on during the promotion.

Kroger Links

Kroger Website http://bit.ly/Krogerfreemilk
Kroger Facebook Page http://on.fb.me/KrogerMilk
Kroger Twitter Page http://bit.ly/KrogerTwitter

*Excludes General Mills meal and baking products including; Betty Crocker, Old El Paso, Progresso, Hamburger Helper, Macaroni Grill, Wanchai Ferry, Yoplait
**Promotion varies based on store location; check your local Kroger store for details (Cash Offer: Mid South, Delta, Mid Atlantic, SW Louisiana stores, Central Missouri stores and Dillons Missouri stores)

Giveaway Rules for Kroger $25 Gift Card
Runs from Oct 31 to Midnight, MT, Nov 6 2011.

For one entry: Leave a comment on this blog article. If you can't think of anything to say, share which participating General Mills products you plan to stock up on during the promotion at Kroger.

For two additional entries (making a total of 3): After leaving a comment on this blog, click on this link, and leave a comment at the bottom of my article, "Gardening Superstitions." (It's written under my pen name, Cindy Lynn.) Be sure to mention you came there by way of my blog so that you get credit. Should the internet decide to be funky and you're unable to leave a comment, you can verify that you were there by sending me an email at cindybeck dot author at yahoo dot com, and telling me the name of the two trees mentioned in the title.

If I don't already have your address, please leave your email, Twitter, or Facebook address here so I can contact you. The winner will be announced the week of November 7.

(Thanks for entering! Disclosure: The Kroger gift card, information, and giveaway have been provided by Kroger and General Mills through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)

Gold Medal White Whole Wheat Flour Giveaway WINNER

2011-10-17T09:27:00.004-06:00

Tags: (Gold Medal, MyBlogSpark, giveaway)

It's time to announce the winner of the Gold Medal White Whole Wheat Flour Giveaway. According to the random generator at Random.org, the winner is ...

Ronda Gibb Hinrichsen!

Congrats, Ronda, and have fun cooking with the Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour.

(Thanks to all who entered! Disclosure: The Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour product, information, and giveaway have been provided by Gold Medal through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own.)

You Know You're a Writer When ...

2011-10-06T06:00:00.000-06:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Tags: Thoughts, quotes, writer, humor

Photo © asafesh

Because I love quotes, thoughts, quips, and anecdotes, I decided to follow my friend Rachelle Christensen's idea and institute a Thought for Thursday post on ... yes, can you believe it? ... on Thursdays!

This first one deals with the way writers think, but you don't have to be a writer to enjoy it.

Thought for Thursday

You know you're a writer when your grocery list reads:
Creamy fresh milk
Grapes, picked glistening from the vine
Lettuce pulled from the earth by strong, brown arms
~ Adair Lara

Even though I'm a writer, I've never written a list like that. The grocery store part of my brain is much too practical ... and in much, too much, of a hurry. However, I can tell you that I love Lara's list and just might have to start doing mine that way.

Have you ever written a list like that? Drop off a comment and tell me what your grocery/hardware/mini-mart list is like. Do you write it on scrap paper? On an envelope? In pen? Pencil? Informed people need to know on this Thoughtful Thursday!

Winner of the Sam's Club Pink Promotion Gift Card Giveaway

2011-10-05T04:05:00.001-06:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: breast cancer awareness, MyBlogSpark, Sam's Club giveaway)

The Sam's Club Pink Promotion Gift Card Giveaway not only promoted breast cancer awareness, but also gave readers the chance to enter a drawing for a gift card. It officially ended at noon, yesterday (October 4), and the winner is Rachelle Christensen. (Congrats, Rachelle!)

Thanks to all who entered, and for those who help in the fight against breast cancer!

Sam's Club Pink Promotion Winner ... and a Pink House

2011-10-04T09:52:00.010-06:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: Sam's Club, breast cancer awareness, Yoplait, Komen

October is the month where so many people (bless their hearts) take steps to promote breast cancer awareness or to raise funds for breast cancer research. For my part, along with an annual donation to breast cancer awareness groups, I purchase pink products and redeem Yoplait pink lids. I also created and help maintain an awareness blog called Breast Cancer Resources in Charles County, MD.

In addition ... I recently held the Sam's Club Pink Promotion Gift Card Giveaway which not only promoted breast cancer awareness, but also gave readers the chance to enter a drawing for a gift card. It has now officially ended, and the winner is Rachelle Christensen. (Congrats, Rachelle!)

Still, my efforts are small in comparison to what some are able to do. I just received news from MyBlogSpark about a woman who painted her house pink. Now that's going whole hog!

What MyBlogSpark and Yoplait Say

Head over to Facebook.com/Yoplait and the Save Lids to Save Lives link to watch Yoplait and the Denver Affiliate of Susan G. Komen for the Cure honor long-time breast cancer volunteer Joanie Lucas.

Joined by neighbors, volunteers and Yoplait, Joanie painted her entire home bright pink to remind people that the fight against breast cancer starts right next door! The house will remain pink for the month of October to symbolize women across the country who are working to make a difference in their neighborhoods and communities through programs like Yoplait´s Save Lids to Save Lives and their local Komen Race for the Cure. During the webcast, Joanie Lucas, Komen representative Michele Ostrander, and Yoplait representative Berit Morse discuss Joanie´s efforts and simple ways people can support the cause.

What I Say

October has just started, so please take a little time to support breast cancer awareness and to help raise funds for breast cancer research and support groups. Breast cancer patients and survivors the world over will thank you!

And again, congratulations to Rachelle Christensen, the winner of the Sam's Club gift card.

Sam's Club Pink Promotion Gift Card Giveaway

2011-09-29T20:53:00.007-06:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Tags: (Sam's Club, MyBlogSpark, breast cancer, giveaway)

As some may remember, breast cancer is an issue that is important in my life. My mom is a 15 year (plus) survivor, and is actively involved in a breast cancer survivor group, as well as in awareness activities. And one thing I like about this Sam's Club giveaway is that it's not only the opportunity for someone to win a $25 gift card, but also the chance to give back to breast cancer education and research by purchasing specially marked General Mills products. For example, my family loves Yoplait yogurt and I'm planning on purchasing some with the gift card I received through Sam's Club and MyBlogSpark.

What Sam's Club and General Mills Say
This October, by making simple everyday purchases at Sam´s Club, you can help support breast cancer education and research. Beginning September 19th, Sam´s Club stores will feature exclusive pink packaging on some of your favorite participating General Mills products in recognition of National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Give back by purchasing your favorite cereal or snack!

For 5 years, General Mills has partnered with the Susan G. Komen for the Cure® Foundation to bring breast cancer support to local communities, and this year they are making their annual donation of $2 million to the foundation to advance breast cancer research and support education and community outreach projects.

Purchase specially-marked General Mills products like Cheerios and Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies at your local Sam´s Club and help decide how half of that contribution will be donated by voting at PinkTogether.com from now until April 14, 2012.

General Mills´ donations will be divided between two important Komen programs: the Treatment Assistance Program, which assists women in securing care they otherwise may not be able to afford, and Prevention Research, which helps unlock the keys to preventing breast cancer. Voting results will be announced on Mother´s Day 2012.

Sam´s Club website http://bit.ly/samsclubweb
Sam´s Club on Facebook http://on.fb.me/SCFBook
Sam´s Club on Twitter http://bit.ly/SCTwitter
Pink Together on Facebook http://bit.ly/samsclubpink

Giveaway Rules
US entries only. Runs from Sep. 29 to Noon, MDT, Oct 4 2011.

To Enter: Leave a comment on this blog article. If you can't think of anything to say, mention in what ways you give back in the fight against breast cancer, or which of your favorite General Mills products you're most excited to see featured in the Pink Promotion at Sam´s Club.

If I don't already have your address, please leave your email, Twitter, or Facebook address so I can contact you. The winner will be announced on Oct 5.

(Thanks for entering! Disclosure: The information and gift card(s) have been provided by Sam´s Club and General Mills through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)

Gold Medal White Whole Wheat Flour Giveaway ... by C.L. Beck

2011-09-29T08:10:00.006-06:00

Tags: (Gold Medal, MyBlogSpark, giveaway)

Wahoo, another giveaway! I love giving readers the chance to win something fun, tasty, and cool. This time, the giveaway prize pack contains a coupon for a sample of Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour, a cool-looking cookie jar, and recipe cards. You can't beat that ... the flour to make cookies and a cookie jar to put them in!

I must admit that I used to believe it didn't matter what brand of flour I bought. Generic was fine ... or so I thought. Then I learned differently. The variety of wheat, as well as the quality of the flour, makes a huge difference in my finished product - whether it's brownies or banana bread, cookies or cake. And I've always felt Gold Medal was top quality!

What Betty Crocker/Gold Medal Says
Unlike most whole wheat flours that are made from hard red spring wheat, Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour is made with hard white spring wheat. So, it’s whole grain, but with a similar taste and texture to all-purpose white flour. Perfect for family favorite recipes like breads, pizza dough, cookies, muffins and brownies, Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour bakes up golden and has a milder flavor than baked goods made with regular whole wheat flour. From breakfast to dessert and everything in between, find classic recipes that use Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour at www.bettycrocker.com and make adding whole grain to your daily routine even easier, without sacrificing on flavor.

Giveaway Rules
US entries only. Runs from Sep. 29 to midnight MDT, Friday, Oct. 14 2011

One entry: Leave a comment on this blog article. If you can't think of anything to say, try sharing what type recipe you'd use the Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour in if you win.

Two entries: Tweet this contest, and leave a comment on this article giving your Twitter address so I can verify it's been done.

If I don't already have your address, please leave your email, Twitter, or Facebook address so I can contact you. The winner will be announced on Monday, Oct 17.

(Thanks for entering! Disclosure: The Gold Medal White Whole Wheat flour product, information, and giveaway have been provided by Gold Medal through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)

Who Needs a Cat Bed? ... by C.L. Beck

2011-09-28T04:41:00.001-06:00

Who Needs a Cushy Cat Bed When You Have a Flowerpot?

Tags: cat, humor

Have a happy, Wordless Wednesday!

What a Dog Does When He's Cold

2011-09-24T09:19:00.003-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh, Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: dogs, pets

Here's a fun video for all the dog lovers out there. Now if only I could figure out how to teach the Corky Porky Pie this trick!

Waterfall in Alaska ... by C.L.Beck

2011-09-22T08:20:00.005-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: Alaska, waterfall

Photo © Cindy Beck

Have a happy, Wordless Wednesday!
(Even though today is actually Thursday... again!)

Fun Betty Crocker Recipes ... by C.L. Beck

2011-09-10T08:17:00.001-06:00

Ooo, Yummy, Give them a Try! ... posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Tags: recipes, Betty Crocker

Not long ago I wrote an article about snacks to eat while watching Dancing with the Stars. Well, okay, not technically written by me, but by my alter-ego, Cindy Lynn. Anyway, it seems it was such a great idea that it made its way to the Betty Crocker kitchens.

Oh, all right. Probably not. But they must have been on the same wavelength because recently I received an email from MyBlogSpark about fun Betty Crocker food ideas that match favorite TV genres. And I thought some of you might enjoy the links for a few of the recipes, so here they are!

Betty Crocker's Fun and Delicious Food Ideas

Betty Crocker´s food experts have created fun and delicious food ideas that bring your favorite TV genres to life! And now they´re teaming up with reality TV star and "bachelorette" Trista Sutter to share more great ideas that are perfect for TV viewing parties with friends and family!

School Days

Put down your pencils and check out the shows that are sure to be on your honor roll this fall. We love sharing in the triumphs and heartbreaks our favorite students encounter on campus each week - whether they are belting out tunes in show choir, competing on the football gridiron, or just goofing off in study group.

Slushee Cup Cakes
Go to the head of the class with this new twist on the traditional poke cake. Two cupcakes are "poked" and splashed with fruity slushee syrup, then topped with colorful cherry or blue raspberry frosting and glittery sugar. You´ll give them an A! Get the recipe at bettycrocker.com/fanfare.

Center Stage Shows

Talent competitions are in the spotlight, as rising stars sing and dance their way to fame and fortune. But while contestants may come and go, it´s the judges - both spicy and sweet - whose personalities really keep us tuning in each week.

You Be the Judge Popcorn Mix
These pop corn mixes are customizable with a variety of flavors that bring personality to the table. Which one is your favorite - Sugary Sweet, Angry Jerk, Worldly Spice or Flaky Nut? You Be The Judge! Get the recipe at bettycrocker.com/fanfare.

It's All Relative

While the modern American family is being reinvented every day, we still relate to the all-too-familiar characters on our favorite family shows. Whether it´s the overachiever mom, the dad who´s trying to be cool, or the precocious but loveable kid, these characters are both smart and funny, especially when they come together over what really matters most.

Cheesy Po-Tot-Chos
You won´t have to ask twice to get everyone in front of this pile of potatoey tots, topped with cheese, salsa and fresh veggies like tomatoes and avocado. This twist on classic nachos is so good - it may be a fight to snatch the last tot! Get the recipe at bettycrocker.com/fanfare.

Geek Chic

The geeks are suddenly chic! The socially awkward, but super-smart set is all over the small screen this fall, speaking a language all their own. What they lack in social skills, they make up for in humor. We wouldn´t hold it against you if calculate a countdown until next week´s episode.

Solving for Pi Cheesecake
It´s a simple equation: mango + raspberry + cheesecake + pie = delicious! Take a cue from the molecular gastronomy trend and scoop up this deconstructed dessert that literally "pops" with flavor! Get the recipe at bettycrocker.com/fanfare.

----

A whole plethora of recipes are at the Betty Crocker site, and I've only picked a few to post here. Head out to bettycrocker.com/fanfare and take a peek. You're sure to find recipes you'd love to try. Or if you're a guy, to have your spouse fix so you can try!

If you get a minute, drop off a comment and tell me which recipes sounds best to you.

(Note: Details received from Betty Crocker through MyBlogSpark.)

Outside of Sitka, Alaska ... by C.L. Beck

2011-09-08T15:09:00.007-06:00

Photo © Cindy Beck

Have a happy, Wordless Wednesday!
(Even though today is actually Thursday.)

A Blonde Paints the Porch ...

2011-09-05T07:59:00.001-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh, Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: blonde jokes, humor

The author is unknown on this blonde joke, but it came to me from my friend, Cathy Witbeck, and it had me laughing.

A Blonde Paints the Porch

Photo © lhumble

A young blonde girl in her late teens, wanting to earn some extra money for the summer, decided to hire herself out as a "handy woman" and started canvassing a nearby, well-to-do neighborhood.

She went to the front door of the first house and asked the owner if he had any odd jobs for her to do. "Well, I guess I could use somebody to paint the porch" he said. "How much will you charge me?"

Delighted, the girl quickly responded, "How about $50?" The man agreed and told her that the paint, brushes, and everything she needed were in the garage.

The man's wife, hearing the conversation, said to her husband, "Does she realize that our porch goes ALL the way around the house?"

"That's a bit cynical, isn't it?" he responded.

The wife replied, "You're right. I guess I'm starting to believe all those dumb blonde jokes."

A few hours later the blonde came to the door to collect her money. "You're finished already?" the startled husband asked.

"Yes," the blonde replied, "and I even had paint left over, so I gave it two coats." Impressed, the man reached into his pocket for the $50 and handed it to her along with a $10 tip.

"Thank you," the blonde said, "and by the way, it's not a Porch, it's a Lexus."

------

(All right, enough of that. I hear those groans out there! :0)

Look into my Eyes ...

2011-08-31T07:21:00.007-06:00

by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Photo © Cindy Beck

Have a happy, Wordless Wednesday!

I've Been Liebstered!

2011-08-23T10:34:00.005-06:00

by Cindy Beck

Normally I wouldn't have a clue what being "Liebstered" means, and would quickly call the CDC to find out if it's infectious. Luckily for me, though, when Leisha Maw gave me the Liebster Award she also explained it wasn't a disease.

Whew (flinging sweat off brow), I'm sooo glad!

Thanks go to the awesome Leisha Maw for the award, and here are the rules:

Bestow the Liebster Award to awesome bloggers who, at the moment, have less than 200 followers. Then ...

1.) Show thanks to the blogger who gave the award by linking back to them.
2.) Reveal your top five picks and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
3.) Post the award on your blog.
4.) Bask in the love from the most supportive people on the Internet – other writers.
5.) And best of all – have fun and spread the karma!

So, without further cause for alarm, (and while trumpets herald in the distance) here are my five picks for awesome writers:

My Rich and Random Life (Langley Cornwell)
Cathy Witbeck - Story Painter
Shirley Bahlmann Biz
Inksplasher (Karlene Browning)
On the Couch (Russ Beck) Okay, so we're related, but that doesn't mean I can't give him an award, right?

Have fun, y'all!

5 Rules to Remember

2011-08-15T17:42:00.003-06:00

Posted by my alter-ego, Cindy Lynn
Tags: humor, happiness, Associated Content

5 Rules to Remember in Life

1. Money cannot buy happiness but it’s more comfortable to cry in a Mercedes than on a bicycle.

2. Forgive your enemy but remember the so-and-so's name.

3. Help someone when they are in trouble and they will remember you when they're in trouble again.

4. Many people are alive only because it’s illegal to shoot them.

5. Alcohol does not solve any problems, but then, neither does milk.

~ Author unknown

And now that you've had a laugh ... if you're looking for other fun or interesting thoughts, check out my articles at Associated Content.

Until next time ...

~ Cindy Lynn
Author, Poet, and Philosopher at Associated Content

Sam's Club Giveaway and Box Tops for Education WINNER

2011-08-08T22:00:00.000-06:00

By C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: giveaway, contest, freebies, Sam's Club, box tops for education

Oh yes, it's time to announce the Sam's Club Gift Card Giveaway winner. After putting the entries into the random generator at Random.org, the winner is ....

LANGLEY CORNWELL!

(Sorry about the shouting, but Langley lives a long ways away and I wanted her to hear me.)

Langley, please contact me with your full name, complete mailing address, and telephone number. I need all those to submit for your prize. It should arrive at your place within two weeks after it's submitted.

Thanks again to General Mills and MyBlogSpark for sponsoring the giveaway!

It Ain't No Picasso ... by C.L. Beck

2011-08-08T17:34:00.001-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: Mythbusters, art, humor

Image by Ali Goksel.com

"Hey, look," I said, waving the newspaper under my hubby's nose. "There's an art competition at a local gallery. Should we enter a photo?"

Corky Porky Pie barked his agreement, but Russ continued watching Mythbusters. What is it that's so interesting about that show? After all, how many times can a guy watch Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman shoot chickens out of a cannon before figuring out that a frozen chicken can not fly under its own power?

I tried again in a dulcet tone, "HEY, CHICKEN BOY, DO YOU WANT TO ENTER THE ART SHOW?"

Oh, all right ... I'll admit it ... I hollered.

Apparently, my dulcet tone startled him. Russ jumped out of the chair like he'd been stung, and the Porky Pie ran around Russ's ankles, barking loud enough to pop balloons. Or at least ear drums.

I'd like to suggest that what followed happened in slow motion, but then Russ would probably submit the idea to Mythbusters so they could test the reality of slow motion by shooting chickens from a Howitzer. Which would probably only work with tiny, live chickens flying backwards as they're shot out of the cannon.

But, I digress. Unable to take a full step without killing the dog, Russ stumbled around, arms flailing, looking very much like ... dare I say it? ... a chicken with its head cut off. That is, until he finally managed to trip and land face down on the couch.

I raised my eyebrows. "So, did that little dance mean yes or no?"

"Brsghgtrxwvbpxuumph."

I reached over and patted Russ on the back. "Sorry, but I can't translate 'Brsghgtrxwvbpxuumph.' Maybe if you take your face out of the cushions it would help."

Russ raised his head, and for a minute I thought he might turn it completely around, like that chick (oh yes, another chicken reference; we are replete with them today) in The Exorcist. Instead, he blinked his eyes and replied, "I was asking which picture you wanted to enter."

The Porky Pie cocked his head and looked at Russ, then cocked it the other way and looked at me. Sometimes I think he's smarter than I give him credit.

I would've cocked my head in question, too, but didn't want to mimic the dog, so I scrunched my eyebrows instead. Something Corky Porky Pie is incapable of doing ... so far.

Giving it a significant pause, I said, "It is my considered opinion that we have a number of blue ribbon quality photos that are certain not to win. So let's find something strange, manipulate it in PhotoShop to make it stranger, and submit it."

Russ hefted himself off the couch and poked me lightly in the forehead with his finger. "You've heard of the movie, A Beautiful Mind? Well, you have a devious mind. Tell me, did I know that about you before we married?"

"Umm, I'm thinking not, but welcome to marital bliss, Chicken Boy."

For the next few minutes we discussed which strange photos we had that were suitable. We finally settled on one taken by Russ of an old guy in New Orleans, dressed in a woman's hat decorated with chicken feathers (well, okay, maybe it was plastic flowers), wearing lots of beads, a purple shirt with orange pants, and playing a ukelele-type instrument.

"He's considered to be local color in the French Quarter, plays the ukelele for money and is known all over the country. I paid him to let me take his picture." Russ's voice reflected pride in his artistic accomplishment.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Really? Local color? He looks more like a nut. Who wears beads and a flowered hat after Labor Day? I hope you didn't pay him much."

Turns out Russ didn't, but I'm not going to tell how much he paid because it might make him look cheep ... er ... cheap.

On the day of the deadline, we gathered two other unusual pictures, along with the one of the ukelele-man-who-thought-he-was-a-woman that I'd weirded up ("weirded up" ... is that a real phrase?) and submitted them.

Several weeks later, we received an invitation to attend an "Artist's Open House" to view the winning entries. We dressed in nice clothes, because the press was scheduled to attend.

When we arrived, imagine our surprise to find a bearded gallery curator wearing jungle shorts and sandals. I whispered to Russ, "I don't think I weirded that photo up enough."

To make a long story short, our ukelele-man-who-thought-he-was-a-woman won third place. We were tickled until we saw the first place photo.

Russ stared at it for a long time, while trying not to look like he was staring. "Wow, I didn't know you were allowed to enter naked people."

"Me either," I said. "And that photographer might have taken the grand prize, instead of just first place in photography, if he'd gone to the trouble to weird up that woman and give her three of something. After all, it worked for Picasso."

------

[Note: Although I've posted humor articles here for quite some time for YourLDSNeighborhood.com, clicks on their newsletter indicate a demographic that's more interested in serious topics. For that reason, I'll no longer post humor articles for them here, and will post serious articles twice a month for them at my other blog, Cindy Beck: Meandering Thoughts. If you're interested, stop by there and click to follow through Google Friend Connect, or to follow by email. Thanks for reading my humor articles in the past!]

------ "It Ain't No Picasso" © C.L. (Cindy) Beck, 2011------

This blog sponsored by YourLDSNeighborhood.com.

Please show your appreciation by stopping for a visit. And take a minute to check out their newsletter, and yourLDSRadio as well!

Sam's Club Giveaway and Box Tops for Education

2011-08-01T08:00:00.001-06:00

By C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: giveaway, contest, freebies, Sam's Club, box tops for education

I'm so excited because I haven't had a giveaway in quite a while, and this is a cool one. So ... ta-da! It's time once again for the Sam's Club $25 gift card giveaway. (Don't you just love the chance for a free gift card?)

What Sam's Club Says
It seems like just yesterday when the kids came home from school, threw their back-packs on the floor and chanted, "It´s summer!" But as the hustle and bustle of back-to-school quickly approaches, Sam´s Club wants to remind you that it´s never too early to start collecting Box Tops. This year, Sam´s Club and Box Tops for Education can help you prepare for the fall when you shop their back-to-school event.

Earn more cash for your local school at Sam´s Club this August with the 6 Box Tops on a Pack promotion.

When you purchase participating Box Top items, you can collect even more Box Tops on some of your favorite General Mills brands such as Honey Nut Cheerios, Nature Valley Oats 'N Honey Crunchy Granola Bars, Totino´s Pizza Rolls, and more!

Sam´s Club has your favorite back to school items from computers to clothing, and at the best values.

Plan ahead and take advantage of the savings made simple at Sam´s Club. Your wallet - and your local school - will be thanking you! To learn more about the Box Tops Education Program and how you can help contribute to your school, visit BoxTops4Education.com

A Few Links
Sam´s Club Website http://bit.ly/samsclubbtfe
Sam´s Club Facebook http://on.fb.me/samsclubfacebook
Sam´s Club Twitter http://bit.ly/samsclubtwitter
Box Tops for Education Website http://bit.ly/samsclubboxtops

Giveaway Rules (Aug 1-7, 2011)
Leave a comment on this blog article from now until midnight, MDT, Aug. 7, 2011. If you can't think of anything to say, try sharing which General Mills´ products you might be most excited to see featured in the "6 Tops on a Pack" offer at Sam´s Club! (As for me, I like to see them on Rice and Corn Chex, because I love to use those two cereals to make Party Mix and Mexican Munchies!)

If I don't already have your address, please leave your email, Twitter or Facebook address so I can contact you. The winner will be announced on Monday, Aug 8.

(Thanks for entering! Disclosure: The Sam´s Club gift card, information, and giveaway have been provided by General Mills through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, or the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)

"Hang 'Em High" and Authorama

2011-07-31T06:00:00.001-06:00

Thought you'd like to hear this exciting news from my friend and fellow author, Tristi Pinkston....

Author Tristi Pinkston is excited to announce the release of the third novel in her Secret Sisters Mysteries series.

Titled Hang ‘em High, this novel takes place on a dude ranch in Montana. When Ida Mae’s son invites her to come for a visit, of course she brings Arlette and Tansy along with her. They are expecting to spend the week looking at horses, avoiding the cows, and making amends in Ida Mae’s relationship with her son. What they don’t expect is to be stuck on the ranch in the middle of a blizzard and to be thrust headlong into the middle of a mystery.

***

Help Tristi celebrate her new novel in two ways. First, come participate in the two-week-long blog contest, where you can win a book nearly every single day! All the details are up on Tristi’s blog.

Second, come to the book launch!

You are invited to an

August Authorama!

Saturday, August 13th

Pioneer Book, 858 S. State, Orem

12 – 4 pm

Games, prizes, balloons, face painting,

and Dutch oven cobbler

prepared by world champion cook

Keith Fisher.

Authors Tristi Pinkston, J. Lloyd Morgan, Cindy Hogan,

Nichole Giles, and Heather Justesen

will all be there to sign books.

This is one book launch event

you will not want to miss!

A Hair-raising Event ... by C.L. Beck

2011-07-21T21:51:00.022-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: hair-raising event, hair, humor

Photo © tnimalan

Today I'm writing about those hair-raising events that happen to all of us in life ... tornadoes ... earthquakes ... haircuts.

Not long ago, I went to get my golden locks trimmed. Oh, don't look at me that way—okay, I went to get my gray locks trimmed. My stylist works from her home and as I got out of the car and walked to the door, I noticed her cat, sitting in the yard and pondering something.

"Hey, cat, what are you thinking?" I asked. In psychiatric terms, talking to a cat has a name, but I forget what's it's called. Probably Alzheimer's disease. Nonetheless, in small towns people look more favorably upon the uniqueness of each individual's quirks, and so my neighbors don't even comment about my habit of talking to critters.

At least not to my face.

But ... I digress. I waited, but the cat didn't answer. Instead, she gave this little hop, ran a step or two and gave another hop.

"Ah ha! Miss Meow is up to something," I said, only this time under my breath so that the neighbors didn't think I was crazy.

I walked closer, watching the cat pounce around the yard like a furry Slinky. And then I saw it—a little gray mouse not smart enough to stay close to bushes and trees, or to hide. Instead, it had meandered across the dry grass, in plain sight of Miss Meow.

A door slammed behind me and I jumped in surprise. A voice said, "Cindy, why are you standing out here, staring at Miss Meow? Have you been talking to the animals again?"

Turning, I saw my hairstylist standing on the porch, her blow dryer pointed accusingly at me, like a modern day gunslinger about to blow me away. Except she was more like a hairslinger.

My cheeks flushed warm, and I wasn't sure if it was from guilt or the hot sun. Not wanting to admit I'd been talking to the cat, I ignored her, walked onto the porch and gestured toward the feline in question. "She's catching a mouse."

"Eeeeeeewwwww!" Mrs. HairSlinger wrinkled her nose. "I hate mice!"

"Yes, but they have a place in the cosmos, in God's great plan for the eternities, with each creature created by a loving Heavenly Father who—"

"They stink up the house!" Mrs. HairSlinger interjected, pinching her nose closed with two fingers. "And they're creepy. They jump and run up your pant legs."

She had a point there, and mice weren't necessarily my favorite, but rather than watch my reputation as Mrs. Doctor Doolittle flushed down the drain, I tried again. "Creepy? Not hardly. What about Mickey Mouse? He's cute."

Mrs. HairSlinger placed her hand on my forehead and mumbled, "She doesn't seem to have a temperature. Maybe the neighbors are right, and she's just plain nuts."

I cocked one eyebrow. "I heard that. Just because I'm an animal lover doesn't make me deaf, you know."

She opened the screen door, and motioned for me to step inside. "You do realize that Mickey Mouse is a cartoon character, right?"

"Humph! Of course I do." I glanced back at Miss Meow, who by now had managed to capture the pitiful creature and was slinking toward the porch with it in her mouth. It gave me the heebie-jeebies. I jumped into the house, Mrs. HairSlinger followed faster than a speeding a bullet, and we slammed the door.

A sly smile crossed her face. "I thought you loved animals?"

"I do, but mice are a little lower on my list, and although I love Mickey Mouse, I have to admit I'm not partial to a wild one running up my leg."

An hour later, with my golden locks trimmed to perfection (yes, I said golden and neither I, nor Miss Clairol, are taking it back), I walked to the front door with Mrs. HairSlinger following. Opening it, I turned to her and jokingly said, "I hope that mouse isn't still out here because—"

"Aaaaaaaaeeeeee!"

A 500-decibel scream from her ripped through my eardrums, and I panicked. Having no clue what the problem was, I didn't know if I should duck and cover, or run. She grabbed my arm in a grip I would have described as vice-like, if it hadn't been for her nails piercing my muscles and coming out through the other side. It made it a little hard to bolt for the car.

She pointed at the welcome mat. There lay the mouse, dead as can be and left for us as a gift, albeit an unwelcomed one, from Miss Meow.

In retrospect, I found it pretty funny—well, after my hearing returned two weeks later—but I'm not so sure Mrs. HairSlinger will ever be the same again.

------ "A Hair-raising Event" © C.L. (Cindy) Beck, 2011------

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My Wonderful A+ Blood ... by C.L. Beck

2011-07-11T13:59:00.027-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: blood drive, humor

Photo © wgroesel

As I knelt on one knee in the damp soil of the flower bed, with the wind blowing my hair so I looked like Medusa—the woman with snakes for hair—I remembered that I'd signed up to give blood. Aaackk!

There was no time to shower and change, so I rushed into the house, washed my face, and then....

"What is that overpowering stench?" I asked Corky Porky Pie, who had just walked into the room. "Is it coming from you or me?" I sniffed my armpits. They smelled like my current deodorant flavor of the day, sweet peas. No, the odor definitely wasn't an arm-pitty smell, but more like wet garden gloves.

"No time to figure it out," I said to the dog, who licked the muddy knees of my pants with enthusiasm. I splashed on a little Ode-de-Perfume, and dashed out the door, ready to donate a quart of my wonderful A+ blood. Or was that A- blood? I wasn't quite sure which, but an A+ was always better than an A- in my book.

Speaking of pluses, minuses, and all those statistical type things, have you ever noticed that when you have a 50-50 choice of entrances, no matter which you choose, it will always be the wrong one? I'm sure there's some sort of Cosmic Rule of Diminishing Doorways insuring that.

Case in point: At the previous blood drive, I entered the building on the north side and the line started in the south hallway. This time I entered on the south side, and the line started ... you guessed it ... in the north hallway.

After wending my way around the building, I finally found the right place, where an official-looking, blood-sucking lady at the door said, "Your driver's license, please."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise without even asking my permission. "I don't intend to drive the blood anywhere. I thought I'd just let it drip out of my veins into that cute little bag you have hanging there," I said, while fishing out my license.

She checked it carefully, scrutinizing the photo. I'm thinking she wanted to make sure I wasn't a terrorist. Either that, or a burglar in disguise who wanted to rob the blood bank.

Handing my license back, she pointed to a sign on the wall and said, "Please read that."

Was this a blood drive or an eye exam? I started reading each letter on the first five lines:

I F
Y O U
H A V E A
C O L D D O
N O T D O N A T E

What? I thought eye charts were supposed to start with the letter E? "Excuse me, but there's something wrong with your eye chart. It doesn't have the right letters."

"It's not an eye chart," she said, looking at me like I needed to give blood in person at the state mental hospital. "It's a list of diseases and symptoms that make you ineligible to donate."

There I was, with my wonderful A+ (or maybe A-) blood, and they might not want it? I read the sign out loud, "Please do not donate if you have a cold, allergy, flu or any of their symptoms."

I was crushed and turned to her. "You mean you don't care if I have AIDS, hepatitis, beri-beri or leprosy? They're not even on the sign. But if I have one small sniffle from an allergy, phhhhtttt ... I'm out the door? My A+ corpuscles and I are rejected?"

The blood-sucker woman's eyes narrowed, and I decided it was time to go. Not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea about my reasons for being rejected, though, I announced to all within hearing, "The Centers for Disease Control need to watch out for allergies, or before you know it, everyone will have them. Right now it might just be drug users and those living alternative life styles that have allergies, but very soon everyone will. If those groups would just practice safe nose blowing, the spread of allergies would be stopped!"

People turned and looked at me with blank expressions. I'm thinking it's because they not only failed the eye exam, but the hearing exam as well. Despite that fact, I continued, "It isn't my fault that I'm the innocent victim of allergies." By now people were moving totally to the other side of the room and whispering. No doubt in pity over my rejection.

"Thank you for your sympathy!" I emphasized my plight by whipping the back of my hand up against my forehead—almost knocking myself out in the process. Heaving a sigh, I proceeded with great dignity and exited out the nearest door ... which turned out to be the entrance.

So much for giving blood. And to think I went to all that trouble to make sure I didn't smell like a wet garden glove. As it turned out, being rejected for the blood drive was the high point of my day, next to seeing this little green snake in the grass while I was weeding. However, I'll save that exciting event for another day because you're probably getting ready to go donate blood yourself.

Just remember not to sneeze while you're there ... and good luck on the eye exam.

------ © C.L. (Cindy) Beck, 2011------

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Happy July 4 Holiday ... The Greatest Play in Baseball

2011-07-04T08:00:00.002-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: July 4, holiday, baseball

Although this doesn't contain humor, it's a great video full of patriotism for you to enjoy this July 4 holiday. Have a safe, wonderful celebration!

If you have a second, drop off a comment. What do you think about Rick Monday's actions?

Shopper Glug to the Rescue ... by C.L. Beck

2011-06-20T11:24:00.018-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: lifestyle, humor

Photo © sxc.hu/hortongrou

Not long ago I wrote about how I tried to glue my armpits together using Super Glue. Well, okay, it wasn't that I actually tried to do that because only a nut would intentionally glue her armpits closed. But, since that particular incident was just one of several with the stuff, you'd think I would've been extra careful about where I put the bottle....

The other night we were lying in bed, and I heard what sounded like an otherworldly moan. Sitting straight up, I looked around the room for ghosts. Seeing none, I checked out Corky Porky Pie, the dog. He lay asleep on the floor, and although his legs were kicking like he was chasing something, I doubted it was the ghost in question.

"Ooooohhhhh." The voice moaned piteously, with an inflection that sounded almost familiar. I waited, hoping the voice would give up and go to sleep.

"Oooooohhh, ooooohhhh, ow."

I rolled over and looked at my hubby. "What's the matter, Russ?"

He grimaced as if dying, and I wondered if he was having a heart attack. Or a stroke. Or maybe bad gas. At his age, anything was possible.

"My leg has been injured somehow. Did you forget to chew off your toenails this week and have you accidentally sliced my leg from kneecap to ankle? It hurts terribly."

Scrunching up my face at the insulting idea that a woman as classy as I would chew off anything other than her fingernails, I tried to remain compassionate. "No, I didn't do it. Maybe you scratched yourself with your own toenails. Let me take a look and see if it needs a band-aid."

Russ turned on the light and moved back the covers on his left leg. I looked closely, saw nothing, and asked, "Where is it? I see a hairy leg, but no cut."

He rolled his eyes in what I thought was pain. Or maybe he had lint in his eye. Then again, it might have been cataracts. At his age, anything was possible.

He pointed to a spot halfway between his knee and ankle, and I inspected it thoroughly. Well, as thoroughly as I could, considering my glasses lay on the nightstand instead of perched on my nose. "There's nothing there," I announced, and then started to roll back over.

"No, it's there. You just didn't look hard enough," he groaned, bending his leg so he could point to the problem.

If there's one thing I've learned in this life, it's that men are big wimps. Women can go through 24 hours of labor and then get up, nurse the newborn, straighten the house and fix a gourmet meal for ten.

A guy stubs his toe and he requires bed rest for a week.

I put one eye right down on Russ's bent knee, narrowly missing a stab in the eyeball with a leg hair. "Oh yeah, I kinda see something that looks like a little irritation. Let me go get that bottle of liquid bandage that I just bought, and in no time at all you'll feel better."

A few seconds later, I came back with it, brushed the liquid on his miniscule cut, and then blew on it so it would dry. "There, it should feel a lot better. Now go to sleep."

Russ half straightened his leg and with a scream that sounded more like a cat caught in a trap than a man with a tiny boo-boo, he leaped out of bed and hopped in circles. Probably from the pain. Or maybe for exercise. Then again, it might have been from Tourette's Syndrome. At his age, anything was possible.

"What did you put on there?" he said, through gritted teeth. "That isn't a band-aid; it's something that's pulling all the hairs off when I try to straighten my leg!"

I cocked my head. Liquid bandage didn't usually do that. I put on my glasses and looked at the small bottle. "Ummm ... yup, liquid bandage all right."

Russ grabbed it from me. I tried to grab the bottle back, but he held it behind him with one hand and reached for his glasses with the other. Pushing them on lopsided, he closed one eye, squinted with the other, and tried to get the words in focus. Finally, he said, "Shopper Glug?"

I laughed, straightened his glasses for him and said, "Read it again." In retrospect, I realize I shouldn't have done that. No, not laugh. Straighten his glasses so he could read.

"Super Glue," he read slowly. "Are you telling me you put Super Glue on my leg, thereby super-gluing my leg hairs together?"

I shrugged and tried my best to put on an innocent-little-girl expression. "Yes, but it was an accident. I didn't have my glasses on and I thought it was liquid bandage."

Russ spent the rest of the night rubbing at the glued hairs on his leg in an effort to loosen the stuff so it didn't pull. By morning, he had a bald spot there, but at least I could see that he really did have a cut. Albeit, a small one.

And I figure he should count himself lucky ... at least I didn't glue his armpits together.

------"Shopper Glug to the Rescue" © 2011 C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Hammocks for Two ... by C.L. Beck

2011-06-06T16:38:00.008-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: summertime, fun, humor, hammock

Nothing's more fun than being in the woods in the summer. It's peaceful. And calm. Very calm. Maybe a little too calm, so I decided to put up the hammocks in hopes of generating some variety to the peace and quiet.

Now let me explain. There's only one right way to get into a hammock. I back up to it, grab it and spread the material out underneath my little derrière, then sit on it as if it's a chair, while swinging my legs up onto it. Aaahh, yes. Comfort.

Naturally, as soon as I moved myself into pre-launch position at the hammock's side, Russ decided to give instructions on the proper method. "That's not the way you do it. You'll end up falling out. You should step over the hammock with one foot so that you're straddling it. That way the hammock will stay open and you won't fall when you sit in it."

Humph. "I've been sitting in hammocks this way for years and trouble has never even batted an eye," I said, sending a look of superiority in his direction.

Naturally, Russ just raised his eyebrows in that non-verbal way that says, "I know better."

I shot back a look that said ... well ... never mind what it said. Suffice it to say we both proceeded to get into the hammocks in our own unique ways. Except mine was right and his was wrong.

Lying next to each other in a shady glen, listening to the birds chirping and the scent of wildflowers wafting on the air is a lovely experience. I wouldn't know that for a fact, though, because Russ started swinging and banging into me in a version of something that could only be called, "Bumper hammocks."

After enjoying the camaraderie—which really meant I was tired of losing at bumper hammocks—I decided it was time for something else. I opened the bag of cheese puffs, and threw a few at Russ—a game I liked immensely since I was the only one with a bag of puffs. I wiped the cheese dust from my hands onto a napkin and threw that at him, too. Then I said for his edification, "When one does hard work, such as throwing snacks at one's spouse, it always makes a body thirsty. I think I'll get some juice."

I left the hammock, walked over and poured big glasses of icy, cold orange juice, but when I arrived back at the hammocks, my brilliant brain quickly spotted a problem. It's impossible to hold two glasses of liquid refreshment, take off shoes, and sit down in a hammock at the same time.

I handed Russ's glass to him. "Here, take this." He took it and promptly started sipping and reading a book. Yes, it's true; he can do both at the same time.

Sidling up to my hammock, I switched the glass of juice to my left hand so I could undo my shoes with my right, and prepared to enter the hammock. The right way. Backside first.

My mama didn't raise no dummy—I glanced behind to be sure the hammock was really there. After all, it would never do to have Russ proven right about the way to get into the hammock. It sat there unopened and only about an inch wide. But hey, sitting down would take care of that. Holding my glass high, I sat on the inch-wide strip of fabric.

The hammock swung out from beneath me; I flipped over backward and flew through the air, the glass still clutched tightly in my hand.

"Ohhhhhh," Russ said with a gasp. I felt certain it was out of concern for my little derrière, but it could have been a gut reaction from the sixteen ounces of ice-cold juice that flew from my cup and splashed in his face.

As I lay on the ground, legs sticking up in the air, and an empty glass in my hand, I heard Russ say, "See? I told you that you're supposed to straddle a hammock to get in it. I hope you're all right, though, because I have orange juice in my eyes, so I can't see to get over there and help you up."

I looked at him. His glasses appeared to have a bad case of orange measles. His white T-shirt looked like someone had tie-dyed it orange, and his book had splotches all over the page.

To make a long story short, I finally managed to get up, all the while explaining that there was nothing wrong with the way I tried getting into the hammock. It all happened because I was taking off my shoes. Because the hammock was getting old. Because I had cheese puff dust on my fingers. Because Mars and Venus were in the eastern sky.

None of those reasons convinced Russ. We hung his shirt on a tree and it took two hours to dry. But, the interesting part was getting the sticky stuff off his arms and face. I held the water jug over his head and poured ice-cold water over him. Yes indeedy, if there's one thing I'm good at when we go up to the woods, it's bringing plenty of cold water. That and I excel at getting into hammocks.

Now the major question is this ... will Russ refuse to visit the woods ever again?

Naw, I don't think so. Why would he do that when it's so peaceful and calm?

------"Hammocks for Two" © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Fun with an Otter

2011-06-01T17:08:00.002-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: fun, humor, otter

This video is so cute that it's guaranteed to bring a smile. At first it's tempting to think the otter isn't really playing with the child, but watch it all the way through and it'll become obvious he really is.

Drop off a comment and let me know if you've ever had a similar experience with a wild animal. My hubby met a deer that wanted to play games with him once, but Russ turned into a party pooper when he discovered it involved antlers!

(A thank you goes to Niid Raun, who posted this on her Facebook page for others to enjoy.)

If at First You Don't Succeed ... by C.L. Beck

2011-05-23T12:56:00.012-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: lifestyle, humor

Photo © sxc.hu/trohaa

I recently remembered an incident that happened about a year ago. Oh, all right, maybe it was more like seven years, three months and fifteen minutes ago, but who’s keeping track? It’s still fresh in my mind, so that’s what counts.

On a whim, I'd decided to rearrange my computer desk. Yes, it must have been a whim and had nothing to do with the fact that dust deeper than the sand dunes of the Sahara had accumulated on my home office furniture.

“There’s too much clutter and so I’m going to move the computer speakers,” I said to Bearly, our hundred-pound dog. He looked at me and his brown eyes winked with wisdom, as if confirming my good idea. Or maybe it was from the dust floating in the air as I moved stuff—I wasn’t sure which, but I opted for wisdom.

I leaned awkwardly across the desk to loosen the speaker wires, while continuing my conversation with the dog. “Why can’t they make everything more accessible on computers? Why can’t they put the plug ends to the front of the speakers? Why can’t they—Oops!”

The plugs dropped behind the desk and onto the floor. Drat, a big problem already, because when the plugs are on the floor it requires one skinny person to slide under the desk and hand the wires up to one contortionist, who is bending over and slithering his hand behind the desk and down the wall.

Hmmmmm. I could see Trouble rearing its ugly head. There was only one person in the house and she didn’t qualify as skinny. No, I like to consider myself nicely curvaceous, or perhaps stunning-with-short-legs.

I thought about asking Bearly to go under and fetch the wires, but he hardly qualified as skinny, either. The last time he’d tried to get under the desk, the result had been similar to an earthquake combined with a wrecking ball.

I knelt on all fours and had just wriggled underneath when a brilliant thought hit me. String! I could crawl back out, tie a long piece of string to the keyboard, crawl under the desk, loop it (the string, not the desk) around the speaker wires, then crawl back out (again!) and haul them up. What a spectacularly brilliant idea!

From my less-than-comfortable spot under the desk, I glanced around the room hoping for a piece of string nearby. Rubber bands hung from a doorknob, and something sat under the couch.

"Oh, look, Bearly. There's a dried piece of spaghetti under there." He looked at me like I was a few noodles short of a lasagna, and said nothing. I gave a sigh—despite the interesting artifacts in the room, not a piece of twine was in sight. I lay looking at the dusty sand dunes so clearly observable from my vantage point, and pondered the questions of life. Where did I come from? Where am I going? Why isn’t there a long piece of tangled-together dog hair around when it’s needed?

With a groan from the effort, I wiggled my curvaceous body back out and went into the kitchen, found the twine, cut a long piece, went back and tied it to the keyboard, letting it fall behind the desk. Then, I crawled back under.

When I looked up, there was the string ... hanging a foot shorter than my reach. As I lay there, I pondered the questions of life. Who am I? Where did I come from? Why didn’t I remember to measure twice and cut once?

I twisted, trying to reach it and the muscle in my neck cramped. “Aaacckkk! Help, help, cramp!” I shouted, knowing full well no one was there to help me. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten about Bearly. Hearing my cries, he ran to the desk and in what seemed to be an effort to rescue me—but might have actually been the perfect opportunity to check my pockets for dog treats—he crammed himself underneath.

Now I had my curvaceous body, mounds of dust, speaker wires, a dangling string and a hundred-pound behemoth practically sitting on my face, all under the desk. I never knew a piece of furniture could totter like that and still stay standing.

Good things come to those with persistence, and if at first you don't succeed, try, try again ... or so my mother tells me. I don’t actually know that for a fact, though, because my mantra goes something like, “If at first you don't succeed, things will only get worse.” While I was down there, I decided to dust the wires. I jiggled one little plug, heard a zzzzttttt and saw sparks. The 120 volt zap up my arm gave me a small clue it was time to quit.

Eventually I managed to plug in the speakers and the machine was up and running again … except for an error message on the computer that said, “Can not find an Internet connection.” Which all just goes to show that good things might come to those who persist, but bad things come to those who dust.

------"If at First You Don't Succeed" © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Sympathy Card Mix-up

2011-05-16T09:36:00.005-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: sympathy card, humor

Image © Iamlm, sxc.hu

Sympathy Card Mix-up
(Author unknown. Received in an email from C. Larene Hall.)

A business was relocating and one of the owner's friends wanted to send him flowers for the occasion. The floral arrangement arrived at the new business site and the owner read the card, "Rest in Peace."

The owner was angry and called the florist to complain. After he told the florist of the obvious mistake and how angry he was, the florist replied,

"Sir, I'm really sorry for the mistake, but rather than getting angry, you should imagine this ... somewhere there is a funeral taking place today, and they have flowers with a note saying, 'Congratulations on your new location.'"
----

If you get a second, drop off a comment and let me know a mix-up that's happened to you. The craziest one I ever experienced was when I received a Christmas present meant for someone else.

Evil Beasts of Summer: The Sequel ... By C.L. (Cindy) Beck

2011-05-11T10:45:00.000-06:00

Stories and Humor to Make You Laugh by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: bugs, insects, humor

The evil beasts of summer had returned. No, I’m not talking about the census takers, I’m talking about the Queen Mother of all evil beasts—earwigs!

“We’re overrun by bugs,” I called through the open window to my husband, Russ. As I did, one of the nasty-wahsties fell … er … I mean, one of nature’s little decomposers fell from the eaves onto my shoulder. A lesser woman would have freaked out, while I merely brushed it off like someone had lit me on fire. Then, realizing that an entomologist who believes we can live in harmony with nature shouldn’t react so strongly to creepy bugs that look like the spawn of Hell, I swatted the rest of my clothes as if cleaning off dust. Just in case any of the neighbors were watching through a pair of binoculars.

“Russ, come look at these earwigs and help me figure out what to do.” As I said it, Russ rounded the corner with a container of insecticide large enough to nuke every living creature in the Intermountain West. I eyed it and gave Russ my sternest look—one designed to let him know that commercial pesticides were forbidden.

He stared back. “Do you have gas pains? Your face is all contorted.”

Smart aleck. I pointed at the can-the-size-of-a Patriot-missile in his hand. “We do not use poisons to kill God’s creations.”

“Maybe you do not, but I do.” Russ popped the cap and turned toward them, looking as if he intended to empty the can on them.

I grabbed his arm. “No, wait! Let me see if there’s a natural way to eradicate them.”

Russ’s jaw dropped. “A natural way? You mean like how you tried to kill the ants the natural way by sprinkling orange peel on them, so they multiplied and replenished the earth instead? Or the natural way you got rid of wasps by spraying them with ammonia, so they populated the yard and built nests in the clothesline poles, creating offspring large enough to carry off the neighbor’s Great Dane?” He paused. “Well, maybe that one wasn’t so bad.”

Seeing my chance, I grabbed the pesticide from him before he came out of his daydream about the neighbor’s barking dog being carted off as wasp fodder. “Most of the bees are gone now. And I’m sure I can find an environmentally safe way to take care of the earwigs. Just give me a few days.”

Nodding his head dubiously—probably because he knew I was right, but more likely because he knew he’d be sleeping on the couch if he didn’t let me try—Russ walked back in the house, dragging his can of bug spray behind him.

It didn’t take long for me to find an eco-friendly solution. Homemade earwig bait! I put the plan into action.

Two weeks later, while out hanging laundry and dodging the wasps that could not be living in the clothesline poles, I saw Russ step out the back door. He stuck his nose in the air, like a hound dog, and sniffed.

“What’s that awful smell?” Then he looked at the house. “And why are there billions of earwigs crawling all over the walls?”

I stopped pinning the clothes in mid-pin. “Billions of earwigs? Oh, you’re just exaggerating. They’re dying off, thanks to my natural methods of extermination.” I walked over and looked at the walls. They did seem to be teeming with activity. Even worse than that, an aroma reminiscent of dead sheep assaulted my nose.

Uh-oh. It seemed to be coming from my cup of homemade earwig bait that sat near the foundation, so I stepped closer to conceal it. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s being covert.

Russ cocked his head and pointed behind me. “What are you trying to hide?”

“Nothing.”

He pushed me gently aside and knelt on the sidewalk, peering into the cup. “Gross! What is this? It looks like earwig stew. And stinks like—”

“It’s not that bad. It just smells like sheep.” I filled my voice with a cheery optimism that I found hard to actually feel since my queasy stomach kept turning over from the odor.

“Sheep? More like roadkill soaking in rancid oil. Where did you get this idea?”

“From the Internet,” I replied. Not an easy task, talking and gagging at the same time. “It’s bait. The earwigs are attracted to the oil, and then they fall in and die.”

Russ held the cup as far away as possible. “It looks to me like thousands are drowning and rapidly rotting, but the rest are thriving on the oil, increasing in numbers, and they think they’re your pets!”

I reluctantly shook my head in agreement, but said nothing since it was hard to talk while holding my nose closed with one hand, and shooing Russ toward the trash can with the other.

As they say in novels, all’s well that end’s well. Or something like that. With grave misgivings that Russ would cover the entire block in a poisonous cloud of insecticide, I agreed to let him nuke the buggers. Within a matter of minutes, most of the earwigs expired. Russ found all thirty malodorous cups of bait and carried them at arm’s length to the trashcan. Once the mushroom cloud of insecticide dissipated, the air once again smelled clean and fresh.

Well, except for slight stench that would occasionally drift past as I was outside fighting the wasps for use of the clothesline. It probably came from some ol’ dead sheep somewhere. But, then again, it could be that I jumped just a little too quickly in giving the neighbors my Knock ‘Em Dead Recipe for Earwig Bait … before I’d actually tried it out.

------"Evil Beasts of Summer: The Sequel" © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Ad Copy Bloopers

2011-05-01T19:57:00.006-06:00

~~Funny Stories and Humor by C.L. (Cindy) Beck~~
Tags: bloopers, funny stories

It's probably safe to say that most readers visiting this site love bloopers. Therefore, it was only natural when the funnies below showed up in an email to put the bloopers out here for everyone to enjoy.

Clumsy Ad Copy

1. No matter what your topcoat is made of, this miracle spray
will make it really repellent.

2. We do not tear your clothing with machinery. We do it
carefully by hand.

3. For sale: an antique desk suitable for lady with thick
legs and large drawers.

4. Now is your chance to have your ears pierced and get an
extra pair to take home, too.

5. Dog for sale: eats anything and is fond of children.

6. Dinner Special—Turkey $2.35; Chicken or Beef $2.25;
Children $2.00.

7. Auto Repair Service. Free pick-up and delivery. Try us
once, you'll never go anywhere again.

~ From The Good Clean Funnies

---
And now that you've had a chance to laugh, take a minute to leave a comment telling me which was your favorite. The blooper that had me giggling was #3—the lady with thick legs and large drawers!

A Modern Fairy Tale ... by C.L. Beck

2011-04-18T10:53:00.011-06:00

The Early Bird Gets the Grief

Funny Stories and Humor by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: Fairy tale, funny stories

Long ago, and in a galaxy far, far away, there was an important conference. The whole area buzzed with excitement because a speaker of distinction was scheduled to talk.

Now, in this galaxy far, far away ….

Oh, all right, it was Utah, which to some people seems like another galaxy, but is actually a cool place to live. As long as you don’t mind concrete for dirt and growing weeds for vegetables.

At any rate, a man (who shall remain nameless, but for the sake of convenience we will call him Russ) wanted to arrive at the conference early. His wife, Cindy, and their dog Corky Porky Pie—both of whom shall also remain nameless—did not agree.

Cindy eyed Russ, giving him a most daunting glare—and daunting was no easy task since she was standing there in her underwear and with her hair sticking pointy-uppy-out. “Listen, do you hear that?” she said, gesturing toward the great outdoors.

Russ cocked his head, like a bird looking for a worm … which was all he would get for breakfast if he didn’t quit insisting they had to leave early for the meeting. “Hear what?”

“That’s my point exactly. You can’t hear anything. And that’s because not even the chickens are awake at four in the morning. We do not need to leave for this conference before the sun comes up.”

Now, it’s well known among fairy tale readers that Cindy never exaggerates. No, not even once. Russ, on the other hand, is prone to enlarging stories until they bear no resemblance to reality. Especially when he’s telling a lie … er, I mean … tale about Cindy.

And now that we’ve clarified that point, let’s move on. Russ pointed to Corky Porky Pie. “Look, the Corky Monster is up and running.”

Corky Porky Pie—who lay fast asleep in his kennel—gave a great snore and tucked his head against his chest. Russ would say it was to keep warm, but ~~I say~~ Cindy says it was to cover his ears so he didn’t have to listen to Russ. With a sigh, Russ abandoned that line of persuasion and tried another tactic. One called, “Bug Your Wife to Death.”

For the next several hours while Cindy tried to tame her pointy-uppy hair, Russ paced the floor repeating the phrase, “It’s time to go.” And every once in a while, for variety, he’d say, “Are you ready to go?”

Time flew by and a half hour before the meeting’s scheduled opening, Cindy was finally set. “I don’t see the point in being there early," she said with gentle persuasion. (Although Russ insists I tell you it was more like, "she whined.") "The place will be empty. A two-hour meeting is long as it is, and there won’t be any padded seats available no matter what time we go. If you make me sit an extra half hour on those metal chairs, my butt will go to sleep, and when we leave I’ll end up walking like Jar-Jar Binks from Star Wars.”

Russ raised one eyebrow and looked at Cindy’s butt, but with the wisdom acquired from many years of sleeping on the couch, wisely said nothing about her ~~more than a century old~~ firm and youthful derrière.

As they drove to the meetinghouse, traffic stood at a standstill for miles around. “See, I told you we needed to leave earlier,” Russ said, shaking his finger at Cindy. She leaned over and with a snap of her teeth, barely missed taking Russ’s finger off at the elbow. Well, that’s what she envisioned doing, anyway.

In reality, all she said was, “Humph.”

They finally arrived at the parking lot with minutes to spare and discovered the lot was full. Mumbling words that would later require washing his own mouth out with soap, Russ drove block after block, looking for a parking spot. When they found one, they dashed down the sidewalk toward the building, and in the process, Cindy lost her glass slipper, which fell into the storm drain and was neither heard from nor seen again. This was just as well, because it didn’t fit anyway, and Cindy only wore it because Russ had rushed her.

Pushing their way past the teeming masses, they tried to find a soft seat near the front, but since people had claimed entire benches weeks in advance, none were found. With Russ muttering, “I was so right,” and Cindy muttering, “This is insane. Let’s go home and maybe they’ll show it on TV,” they searched for two spots. They finally found a pair of hard metal chairs, all the way in the back where neither man nor beast could hear anything, and the honored speakers were so far away they looked like ants on a hill. To this day, neither Cindy nor Russ knows what the presenter said, and Cindy did walk out like Jar Jar Binks. Only her arms weren’t as long.

And so ends the fairy tale. Russ would say it all proves that the early bird does get the worm … and Cindy claims that the dumb bird could just as easily stay home and watch “Worms of Distinction” on Animal Planet.

------ "A Modern Fairy Tale" © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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The Brain Drain ... by C.L. Beck

2011-04-04T08:47:00.015-06:00

Funny Stories and Humor by C.L. (Cindy) Beck
Tags: brain drain, funny stories

There's supposed to be an effective technique in writing called a brain drain and since I had an upcoming blog due, I thought I'd try it. The directions were as follows:

Brain Drain Instructions
1. Find a pen and paper.
2. Write down every thing that comes to mind.
3. When the brain is drained of all pressing thoughts and has kicked into creative mode, begin work on that best selling novel.

I knew I was in trouble right off the bat because I couldn't find a pen. Or paper. How could I do a brain drain with no writing implements? I walked into the pantry, wondering if a pen sat in there under a can of green beans.

Oh, all right, I confess. I really went in there looking for a ~~snack~~ pad of paper. I didn't find any paper, but did happen to see a bag of pretzels and a chocolate bar.

"What the heck, a little treat always helps with a brain drain," I said to the dog, who'd just wandered in. Corky Porky Pie cocked his head in agreement and sat, waiting for a pretzel—or ten. I sat down with him and pondered the meaning of brain drain. Was it an existential philosophy?

I didn't know, but the floor felt awfully hard on my ~~plump~~ skinny derrière, so I stretched out next to the dog, tossed a pretzel in the air and tried to catch it in my mouth. That could've been fun, except it was a pretzel stick and ...

It speared my tonsils. Well, it speared where my tonsils used to hang out, before the tonsillectomy.

"Aaacckkkth," I sputtered, sounding like a cat coughing up a hairball. "Heimlich maneuver, Heimlich maneuver," I squawked to Corky Porky Pie, who paid no attention. I gave a mighty cough; the pretzel dislodged, flew out of my mouth and bounced along the floor, where the dog promptly gobbled it up.

"Big help you are with this brain drain," I said. "And it's disgusting that you ate an already-been-chewed pretzel." Corky blinked and then pointed at my chocolate bar with his nose. I swear that the dog sometimes communicates better than most ~~men~~ humans do.

"Nope, I am not feeding you any of that; it will make you sick. Besides, you don't deserve any because you're making this brain drain worse, not better."

An hour later, after the pretzels and chocolate were gone and the dog had abandoned me in pursuit of a tiny spider he saw crawling under the table, I found the needed writing implements. Despite losing my sidekick to an arachnid, I proceeded to write in an attempt to empty my ~~already empty~~ exceptionally busy mind....

My Brain Drain

I have a humor blog due and have nary a thought with which to write it. I keep hoping that something will pop into my mind if I clear it of all other thoughts.

Hard to drain it of all other thoughts. All my stupid mind wants to do is concentrate on how it doesn’t have any topic for my blog. Yikes!

This brain drain is not working. Maybe what I need to do is go find a donut and eat it. Donuts are brain food, right? Okay, maybe it's fish that is brain food. But, you'd have to have fluff-for-brains to eat fish for a snack.

Ghosts. Ghosts are on my mind, and that’s no help, either. There’s a minor league baseball team named the Casper Ghosts. Cute name, huh? But certainly not something I can write a blog about. If only I had a ghost in my house … now that would make a good story. A ghost who ate fish because he had no brains. Ha ha, get it? Ghosts don’t have brains ‘cuz they’re dead.

Don’t give me that look.

Technically speaking, ghosts do not have brains. Unless they're spirit brains. Yup, 100 proof spirit brains. Okay, so you didn’t get the 100 proof comment either.

I was soooo having fun and now my mind kicked back into the, “YOU don’t have a blog written yet and you certainly can’t use these brain drain ramblings for a blog!”

Shut up, Brain! Take a hike. Let me finish this!

Back in the days when I used to belong to an in-person writer’s group, I got a lot more things written. Only I can’t think of what they were right now, because I’m doing a brain drain exercise. Sheesh. Apparently emptying the mind means you only empty it of unnecessary things like … did I pay the electric bill on Friday? Oh yeah, maybe that’s why I’m writing in the dark today.

Whoever came up with this brain drain idea was obviously brain dead. I’m no closer to a blog article than I was ten minutes ago. But hey, I have to say that at least my mind is clearer. Maybe.

Oh wait; did I remember to take that carton of outdated milk out of the fridge? Hmm, perhaps that explains the roadkill smell wafting through the house.

Well, who cares? At least I'm done with this brain drain. And now that my mind is clear of all unessential bits of information, I realize I'm in trouble ... I can't recall where I hid my emergency chocolate.

------ "The Brain Drain" © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Universal Laws

2011-03-28T09:48:00.004-06:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Although things can go wrong on any day of the week, Mondays seem to have a propensity for being the day that starts out dismal and then goes downhill. So, in honor of Monday—and may you all have a wonderful one instead of a bleak one—here is a list of universal laws.

Photo © Skeezix1000 at Wikimedia Commons

UNIVERSAL LAWS

1. Law of Mechanical Repair - After your hands become coated with grease, your nose will begin to itch and you'll need to use the bathroom.

2. Law of Gravity - Any tool, nut, bolt, screw, when dropped, will roll to the least accessible corner.

3. Law of Probability -The probability of being watched is directly proportional to the stupidity of your act.

4. Law of Random Numbers - If you dial a wrong number, you never get a busy signal and someone always answers.

5. Law of the Alibi - If you tell the boss you were late for work because you had a flat tire, the very next morning you will have a flat tire.

6. Variation Law - If you change lines (or traffic lanes), the one you were in will always move faster than the one you are in now (works every time).

7. Law of the Bath - When the body is fully immersed in water, the telephone rings.

8. Law of Close Encounters - The probability of meeting someone you know increases dramatically when you are with someone you don't want to be seen with.

9. Law of the Result - When you try to prove to someone that a machine won't work, it will....

10. Law of Biomechanics - The severity of the itch is inversely proportional to the reach.

11. Law of the Theater and Hockey Arena - At any event, the people whose seats are furthest from the aisle, always arrive last. They are the ones who will leave their seats several times to go for food, beer, or the toilet and who leave early before the end of the performance or the game is over. The folks in the aisle seats come early, never move once, have long gangly legs or big bellies, and stay to the bitter end of the performance. The aisle people also are very surly folk.

12. The Coffee Law - As soon as you sit down to a cup of hot coffee, your boss will ask you to do something which will last until the coffee is cold.

13. Murphy's Law of Lockers - If there are only two people in a locker room, they will have adjacent lockers.

14. Law of Physical Surfaces - The chances of an open-faced jam sandwich landing face down on a floor are directly correlated to the newness and cost of the carpet or rug.

15. Law of Logical Argument - Anything is possible if you don't know what you are talking about.

16. Brown's Law of Physical Appearance - If the clothes fit, they're ugly.

17. Oliver's Law of Public Speaking - A closed mouth gathers no feet.

18. Wilson's Law of Commercial Marketing Strategy - As soon as you find a product that you really like, they will stop making it.

19. Doctors' Law - If you don't feel well, make an appointment to go to the doctor, by the time you get there you'll feel better. But don't make an appointment, and you'll stay sick.
---

Now that you've read them, drop off a comment and tell me which is your favorite. Mine is #18, because it's definitely true for me. (Thanks to Karlene Browning for sending this list to me in an email!)

A Close Shave ... by C.L. Beck

2011-03-21T10:48:00.015-06:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

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Today we're discussing the vital topic of the effect of fossil fuel combustion on earth’s atmosphere. But first, let's talk about an even more germane topic—body hair.

Last Christmas I bought Russ a new electric razor, and being the nice guy that he is, he offered to let me have his old one. I looked at it, cocked my head, and contemplated the possibilities. It could be used to shave my legs, which meant no more slices on my ankle that require ten stitches to close.

A few days later, while hurrying to get ready for church, a truly ingenious idea zipped into my brain. I said to myself, “That razor worked pretty well on leg hair ...."

"... so why go crossed-eyed trying to look into my armpits while shaving them with a safety razor, when I can look in the mirror and use an electric shaver?”

Perhaps I need to clarify. For those with beards, and for the other 90% of the women on the planet, a safety razor is the pink one with the double blade that sits in your shower for 2 years, and that you’ve used to shave your legs and underarms. The same one that at this point is so dull it pulls the hairs out one by one. And yet, if you run your thumb over it to see if the blade has any life left, you’ll need ten stitches to close the wound. Yup, that’s the one.

Well, as I said, this ingenious idea to shave my armpits with an electric razor zipped through my brain. I whipped it out (the razor, not my brain) and ran it across my left armpit—

“Aaaiiii!” My scream of pain bounced through the house and woke Corky Porky Pie, the dog, up from a sound sleep. He ran barking into the bathroom as I threw the electric razor into the sink and grabbed my stinging armpit. “Russ, come help me. I’ve cut myself!”

He barreled into the bathroom, and now the three of us stood crammed in a room the size of a telephone booth—only one with a toilet instead of a pay phone—and inspected my underarm. Russ patted me on the shoulder. “It’s not bleeding much yet, but you’ve cut it in several places and you might get a spot or two of blood on your church clothes if you don't wait a while to get dressed.”

Giving him my best Clint Eastwood/Dirty Harry stare, while still holding my arm in the air and dancing around the room in pain, I said, “What do you mean it’s not bleeding yet? Of course it is! It's hemorrhaging! What can I use that will help?”

Russ looked dubious. “I don’t know. A dab of toilet paper?”

And that’s when I had my second brilliant idea of the day. Around our house we use a handy little product that functions as the perfect bandage—one that doesn’t fall off easily and seals the wounds so it heals in half the time. Fanning my stinging armpit, which coincidentally stung even more now that I could see it in the mirror, I said, “Go get the Super Glue!”

At that point, Russ failed me. Oh yes, he went and grabbed the Super Glue all right, but where he failed me is that he should have said, “No, that’s a harebrained idea if I’ve ever heard one. Let me take you to the doctor for such a mortal wound.”

What he did say while brushing on the adhesive was, “Hold still or you’re gonna have Super Glue running all the way down your ribs and as soon as you put your arm down, it’ll permanently stick to your side.”

By the time he finished painting the stuff on, I no longer felt the pain of the razor cuts. Instead, my brain was numb from the fumes, yet I had to continue holding my arm straight up in the air for fear of gluing my armpit to itself. I walked around for hours looking like a flagpole. Eventually, it all healed and days later the glue finally wore off … but not before it broke into stuck-tight chunks that kept stabbing me in my underarm.

There was one small consolation to the incident, however. I figured out why the razor sliced and diced instead of shaving. Because I had deodorant on, the razor’s blades stuck to the skin, acting more or less like an electric meat cleaver, and thereby giving me such grievous wounds.

I’ve learned my lesson. From here on, if I accidentally cut any sensitive areas, I am not using Super Glue. And I’m not shaving my armpits with an electric razor, either … instead, I’ll let the hair grow long and put it in French braids.

------ © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Winner of the Green Giant Contest

2011-03-21T10:45:00.001-06:00

And the winner of the Green Giant Contest is ... Carol L!

Congratulations, Carol! Please email me your mailing address and phone number so that Green Giant can send you the coupon for free Green Giant veggies and the gift pack.

Thanks to all to entered. Better luck next time to those who didn't win!

Funny Puns

2011-03-14T08:35:00.000-06:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

It's Monday ... and that says it all, right? It's my opinion that whoever is in charge should do away with Mondays and give us two Saturdays in the week. Unfortunately, it's unlikely the Wish Fairy will grant that anytime soon (bad ol' fairy), so here are a few fun puns to brighten your day.

Funny Punnys
(Received in an email, author unknown)

Local Area Network in Australia : the LAN down under.

He often broke into song because he couldn't find the key.

Every calendar's days are numbered.

A lot of money is tainted - It taint yours and it taint mine.

A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat.

He had a photographic memory that was never developed.

A plateau is a high form of flattery.

A midget fortune-teller prison escapee is a small medium at large.

Those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.

Once you've seen one shopping center, you've seen a mall.

Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead-to-know basis.

Santa's helpers are subordinate clauses.

Acupuncture is a jab well done.

----

Today's the last day to enter the current giveaway for free veggies and a gift pack!

If you haven't already entered, head over to the Green Giant Contest, and leave a comment for a chance to win!

For the Love of St. Patrick's Day ... by C.L. Beck

2011-03-07T09:29:00.000-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

I love St. Patrick’s Day—the leprechauns, the shamrocks, the spaghetti. Come to think of it, it was the spaghetti that got me into trouble....

“St. Patrick’s Day is coming,” I said to my son, Davey, while thoughtfully stroking my chin. “What can we do to celebrate?”

Being a nine-year-old, he came up with a brilliant suggestion. “We could ride bikes!”

I patted him on the head, and wondered where I’d gone wrong in life if he couldn’t come up with something more exciting than riding bikes. Where was his imagination, his zest for life, his sense of advent—

“We could ride bikes up in the hills and jump them off cliffs!” he said, beaming at the idea. I turned pale, envisioning the medical costs. There’d be plenty o’ green if we tried that one ... green in the doctor’s pocket.

I reached out to pat his head and decided to pat his shoulder instead. Just for a change of pace. “That’s not quite what I meant. I was thinking more along the lines of cooking. What could we cook for St. Patrick’s Day that would be fun?”

Davey’s face went blank. “I dunno.”

What was wrong with the boy? What nine-year-old mind wouldn’t be brimming with cooking ideas? Where was his imagination, his zest for life, his sense of advent—

“I know what we could do, Mom. We could cook green spaghetti!”

I tried to envision spaghetti sauce the color of shamrocks. Somehow I wasn’t certain how to accomplish that. Make it with green chilies? Naw, that didn’t sound too appetizing, and despite the color, it didn’t sound very Irish, either.

And then it hit me. Dye the spaghetti noodles!

I pulled out a big pot, filled it with water and put it on the stove. Then I went hunting for the food coloring. I added a few drops, and it all but disappeared in that ocean of water. So, I added another two or three drips ... or maybe ten.

Aaaah yes, now the water seemed appropriately green. Davey took a long look at it. “It looks like swamp water, Mom.”

Critic. It seemed that everyone was a food critic. I gave him my best Wolfgang Puck stare and said, “Vhat? You tink dis food is gonna taste like a svamp?”

Davey looked at me questioningly. Okay, so maybe my accent wasn’t quite Puckish enough, and I should have quoted Adam Savage (from Mythbusters), “I reject your reality and substitute my own.”

Fifteen minutes later, when the spaghetti noodles were supposed to be ready, they were still hard as rocks. Possibly because of the dye, but more likely because I’d forgotten to turn on the burner.

And wasn’t it strange how the noodles were turning more of an off-green color? Oh well, it would all be remedied once the water boiled and they cooked. Then they would be a lovely, sparkling green. Green like a gem in a leprechaun’s pot o’ gold … er … pot o’ emeralds.

Fifteen minutes later, the noodles were ready—warm, succulent, wonderful.

I set them on the table, and my husband, Russ, did a double take. “I think there’s something wrong with those noodles. Have they been in the fridge too long?”

Davey scrunched down in his seat, probably trying to look invisible, as if he hadn’t been the one to add food coloring to the water.

Oh, okay, so he hadn’t been the one. That was no reason to let me take all the blame. I shrugged my shoulders and with my best imitation of a snobby, high society chef from the cooking show, Hell’s Kitchen, said, “Of course they haven’t been in the fridge too long. I just cooked them a few minutes ago!” To emphasize my point, I pulled a long strand of spaghetti out of the bowl and dangled it for Russ to see.

It did look a little less than emerald. In fact, it looked more like mold-green … as in, sat-in-the-refrigerator-for-six-months green. Not that I would know from experience about things turning color in the fridge for six months. Four months is my limit.

Davey didn’t seem to mind the spaghetti at all, and ate his fill. Russ managed to eat a few forks full before he gave up and ate green beans and green gelatin for his St. Patrick’s Day dinner. But hey, at least the gelatin was shiny and looked like an emerald, albeit, a jiggly one.

I learned my lesson and no longer cook green spaghetti. And with St. Patrick’s Day not far off, I’ve already started planning my menu. I’m thinking this year I’ll try something really unique—green hamburgers should impress everyone!

------ © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Memory Loss ... by C.L. Beck

2011-02-28T13:26:00.006-07:00

Fun Stuff and Funny Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Memory loss ... it seems to be on my mind a lot lately. Or not. It all depends on how much memory loss I'm having on which day as to whether or not I can remember if I'm forgetting things.

Is that totally confusing? (Yup, I thought so, but if it makes you feel any better, I'm confused, too.)

I'm not saying I have total memory loss. No, indeed-y. I'm thinking it's just that my brain needs more RAM. Or is it ROM? I can't remember. At any rate, this video is so much fun that I laughed out loud, and I know you will enjoy it, too.

The Day I Broke El Diablo ... by C.L. Beck

2011-02-23T07:21:00.003-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Isn't cowboy poetry fun? Some of the poems brings tears of sadness to the eyes, while others bring side-splitting laughter. I'm a fan of cowboy poetry, and although I'm not experienced enough to feel comfortable standing up in front of people and reading aloud my own verses, I don't mind sharing it with my readers ... just don't ask me to recite it!

The Day I Broke El Diablo
By C.L. Beck

I used to be a cowgirl, once,
Back in my younger days
And when I broke Diablo
It brought accolade and praise.

I climbed up on that critter,
While he stomped and pawed the dirt.
I pulled my hat a way down low
And tuckered in my shirt.

I gave a little, bitty poke
With spurs, upon his side
And he bucked so mighty, awful hard
I thought I’d almost died.

He crow hopped this-a-way and that,
And fifteen feet of air
Showed between my lucky saddle
And my little derriere.

I knew I needed somethin’ good
That wasn’t too overt,
That would keep me in the pocket
So I wouldn’t hit the dirt.

So, I slid down off that bronco,
Took a wad out of my pack
Stuck it tight on to the saddle,
Then climbed right up on his back.

I said, “You crazy, buckin’ bronc,
I’m gonna win, you’ll see,
Cuz that's a piece of bubblegum
That’s sticking me to thee.”

Well, ol' Diablo gave a look,
A grin that seemed most evil,
And started tossin’ me around;
My guts went in upheaval.

He snorted snot and it was gross,
But I just plain ignored him,
Until a big ol’ grizzly bear
Strolled up right there before him.

That horse, he didn’t like it much
And I can’t say I blamed him,
Cuz grizzlies usually aren’t too nice
Unless someone has tamed ‘em.

Diablo tore off faster than
I ever thought he could’a
And I hung on much tighter
Than I ever thought I would’a.

He headed straight into the trees,
With me a hollerin’, “Whoa, Dear!”
And “Gee” and “Haw” and other words,
I prob’ly shouldn’t show here.

And I’d have been okay except
For one thing—I am certain—
Which caused in me a feeling
That was mighty disconcertin’.

This great big, fat ol’ bumbly-bee
Came buzzing in for battle,
And crawled between that horse and me,
Right under my danged saddle.

Diablo, he just pitched a fit
Then jumped up toward the sun,
If I had known much better
I might not have thought it fun.

But I was just a cowgirl then,
Back in my younger days
And when Mama called for supper,
My respect I had to pay.

I parked that ol' Diablo
In a corner of the stable
And went in for my supper,
Glad for food that’s on the table.

And to this day there’s never been
A bronco that’s more wild,
Than the stick one that I rode upon
When I was just a child.

------ © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Green Giant Contest and a Few Bloopers

2011-02-22T10:21:00.009-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

What's more exciting at a blog than a contest with cool prizes, followed by bloopers that give a good laugh? Well, I asked Corky Porky Pie, the dog, and he didn't think there could be much that would be more fun! Unless, of course, it involved a squeaky toy.

Today I'm posting a review for Green Giant® Broccoli & Cheese Sauce, along with a contest. And I wouldn't want anyone to be suffering from humor withdrawal, so I'll place a short funny below the contest info. That should make everyone happy, right?
----

What Green Giant Says:
Green Giant Boxed Vegetables can help you stay on track to achieve your weight management goals in 2011. Twenty-nine delicious varieties are now endorsed by Weight Watchers®, and most have only a 1 or 2 PointsPlus® value per serving! Packed with flavor and ready in minutes, Green Giant Boxed Vegetables are available in a wide variety of flavors, many featuring mouthwatering sauces and seasonings. They’re a terrific addition to any meal and a delicious way to achieve better health in 2011.

Don’t forget to visit Green Giant on Facebook and Green Giant on Twitter and “Like” or “Follow” the brand to keep up with their latest and greatest products! For more information and great recipe ideas visit http://greengiant.com/.

My Opinion:
I love broccoli, especially when it's swimming in cheese, and so I was excited about the prospect of trying out Green Giant's Broccoli & Cheese Sauce. One thing I loved right off the bat was that I could microwave the pouch, and it only took about 5 minutes to cook. There was plenty of cheese sauce, which was great, and I intended to eat half the veggies for my lunch and save the rest for my hubby's supper. However, (bad, bad, me) I liked it so much that I ate the whole thing.

(I'm sorry, Sweetie, but on the upside ... I did have two servings of vegetables for lunch. And you do want me eating my daily requirement of veggies, right? :)

The Contest:
To enter, leave a comment on this blog post between now and midnight, MST, March 14, 2011. If you can't think of anything to say, you can always tell me who you like best—Green Giant or Little Sprout. Or mention your favorite way to prepare Green Giant boxed vegetables.

The Prize:

The winner will receive a VIP coupon good for one frozen sample of Green Giant boxed vegetables, an insulated tote bag, serving bowl, spoon, and pedometer.

(Thanks for entering! This giveaway sponsored by Green Giant and MyBlogSpark®. All information, plus the compensation I received in the form of a sample pack of broccoli & cheese, as well as a gift pack similar to the prize pack, came from Green Giant through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the companies involved, and the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)
----

And now, for the funny ...

Bloopers
From: The Good Clean Funnies List

"Golden, Ripe, Boneless Bananas, 39 Cents A Pound." - Ad in
the "Missoulian" by Orange Street Food Farm

"Sure there have been injuries and deaths in boxing - but
none of them serious." - Alan Minter, Boxer

"I think that the film Clueless was very deep. I think it
was deep in the way that it was very light. I think
lightness has to come from a very deep place if it's true
lightness." - Alicia Silverstone, Actress

"How to store your baby walker: First, remove baby." -
Anonymous Manufacturer

"This is no longer a slum neighborhood. I haven't heard of a
Cubs fan being shot in a long time." - Anonymous Wrigley
Field Neighbor, Chicago, IL

"During the scrimmage, Tarkanian paced the sideline with his
hands in his pockets while biting his nails." - AP report
describing Fresno State basketball coach Jerry Tarkanian

"Men, I want you just thinking of one word all season. One
word and one word only: Super Bowl." - Bill Peterson,
football coach

Speed Limit Enforced

2011-02-15T11:32:00.004-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Some people might initially think this YouTube video, below, is one of those negative ads complaining about local government, and feel inclined to click it off. That was my first response, too, but I guarantee this is not your average political complaint. Watch and see!

If you get a sec, leave a comment and tell me if the ending caught you as much by surprise as it did me.

LOL CATS

2011-02-07T14:16:00.000-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

I really have to use self-discipline to stop myself from putting the icanhascheezburger.com images out here too often. But, it's been a while and so I think we're all more than ready for another dose of fun ... right?

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

It's always hard to pick a favorite, but if you're able to narrow it down to one or two images, leave a comment and let me know which ones you liked most. My favorites were "Other People's Kids" and "Do You Have a Fever?"

Roast Groundhog

2011-01-31T09:47:00.005-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Not long ago my alter ego, Cindy Lynn, published an article that seemed pretty funny. Well, maybe not exactly funny, but definitely interesting. All right, maybe not interesting—possibly more like bizarre. At any rate, I knew you wouldn't want to miss it so here it is, in all its glory ...

Roast Groundhog
By Cindy Lynn

Photo © Reinhard Kraasch, Wikimedia Commons

Everyone knows what Groundhog Day is, right? Well, maybe so, but then again there might be a few people living under rocks who don't, so I'll give a little info about it and afterward give a recipe for roast groundhog.

What's that, you say? A recipe for roast groundhog? Yup, no need to adjust your hearing aid, you heard me right ... a recipe for those who want to run out and chase a groundhog around until they catch it, and then (gulp) roast the little critter.

First, though, a few facts:

When is Groundhog Day?
Feb 2, every year, rain or shine ... and the weather really does play into the whole Groundhog Day celebration.

What's Another Name for a Groundhog?
A whistle pig or a woodchuck.

Does that Famous Goundhog on the News Have a Name?
Yup, Punxsutawney Phil, and he has his own website called PunxsutawneyPhil.com. However, because everyone wants to know about the furry fella and his site often can't keep up with the traffic, you can also see pictures of him at Groundhog.org.

What's the Scoop on His Shadow?
Legend has it that when the groundhog steps out of his burrow on Feb 2, if he sees his shadow there will be 6 more weeks of winter. If he doesn't see his shadow there will be an early spring.

There may be a few who are wondering where I came up with a recipe for roast groundhog, and it's a long story. To make it short, though, I have friends whose college years as a married couple were quite lean, and they actually caught a groundhog and cooked it. Thanks go to Sandy H. for giving me the basics for the following recipe—although, I have to say that the running commentary is all mine.

And now for the cooking instructions ...

Recipe for Roast Groundhog:
Find and capture a groundhog. I'm not sure how you do that, so my advice is to look for an old one that can't run very fast. A bald one would be nice, too, so that you don't have to actually skin it. I have no clue how you kill it and since I'm an animal lover, I'll leave that to your imagination. In my opinion, however, a .44 magnum doesn't seem like a particularly good idea. That is, unless you want ground chuck.

Ingredients
Ground Hog
Olive oil
Mrs. Dash seasoning
Salt and pepper
Onions (quartered)
Potatoes (quartered)
Carrots (peeled and sliced)
Water or broth of choice

Instructions:
Rub the skinned ground hog with olive oil. Try not to cry as you think about how he could be foretelling spring instead of being the main attraction at dinner. Sprinkle seasonings on him and place in a roasting pan. Place the onions, potatoes, and carrots around the groundhog. Add a cup of water or broth to the roasting pan. Cover and bake in a slow oven (275-300°) until groundhog is tender and vegetables are done, adding more water/broth as needed.

Serve on a platter, making sure not to tell the kids they're eating Punxsutawney Phi's cousin. And if the roast is tough, try a slow cooker next time ... or maybe even a roast beef disguised as a groundhog.
----

The million dollar question at this point is ... have you ever even seen a groundhog? (Outside of TV, that is.) Drop off a comment and let me know.

------ © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

The Recipe ... by C.L. Beck

2011-01-25T06:50:00.000-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

I have to say that although the following story is more sweet than humorous, it's one of my favorites. I hope it becomes one of yours, too ...

The Recipe
By C.L. Beck

I touched it with the tip of my finger and then dabbed my tongue to see what it tasted like. My taste buds tingled with a sweet/salty flavor, mixed with a hint of something. What was it? The only word that came to mind was earthy, but the essence evaporated before I had a chance to decide.

“This tastes interesting … what’s your recipe?” I asked him.

He leaned against the counter and said, “Did you figure out there was sweetener in it?”

“Definitely, along with a little salt. So what’s your secret? You’ve really got to tell me, because you’re the best at making these.”

His smile warmed me, like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold morning. He said, “First, you need some bone. And meat. And then you add the casing. Sometimes it’s dark brown, other times it’s light-colored. Just depends on which you prefer at the moment.”

I nodded and wondered where a novice like me could get casings.

“The rest is a mixture of spices and seasonings that you have to fine tune.” His eyes sparkled when he said “spices” and I hoped he wouldn’t hold anything back in the telling.

“Okay, like what?” I asked.

“You’ve already figured out salt—about .9%. And sweetener.” He dusted his hands on his apron.

“Hmm. How much is .9%? Can you give me that in teaspoons?” It seemed this was going to be a lot harder to prepare than I’d thought.

He laughed, and it shimmered right through me. Face it, I was smitten with him.

“You need ¼ teaspoon of salt and ½ cup of sweetener.”

“Does it matter what kind of sweetener?”

He paused for a minute, stroked his salt and pepper beard and thought about it. “Molasses and brown sugar give a darker flavor; white sugar gives a lighter one. Some sweeteners are stronger than others, so it just depends on what you want for the end result.”

Pondering that, I put my palms together and brought my hands to my mouth, with the sides of my forefingers resting against my lips. It was an unconscious habit on my part.

He laughed and said “You look like you’re praying.” Feeling silly, I crossed my arms. He looked at me reassuringly and then continued, “Add two or three drops of curiosity, a teaspoon of playfulness, a cup of hugs, an eighth teaspoon of mischief, and just a pinch of starlight.”

His voice dropped and he said softly, “The starlight is the hardest part. Put in too much and it bounces off the walls. Put in too little, and it doesn’t shine.”

I was amazed. Who’d have thought of starlight? He was definitely the greatest chef—the master craftsman of all time.

“What do you call it?” I asked, wondering if it had a fancy, epicurean name.

He smiled, the air around us sparkled as if sprinkled with diamond dust, and then it formed into visions of sandlot baseball, tree climbing, fishing and sledding. “I call it … little boy.”

----

(This story is dedicated to my son, Dave, on his 35th birthday. Only God could have made someone as fun as you, Davey!)

------ © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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I'd Tell You but I Can't Remember ... by C.L. Beck

2011-01-17T09:34:00.003-07:00

Fun Stuff and Funny Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

The other day I run across something that struck me as so true. And I'd write about it today except ... well ... I can't remember what it was!

Okay, I'm joking; I really do remember but just couldn't resist the above as an opening line. To see why, click on the video below.

---

If you get a sec, drop off a comment and tell me what was the most interesting thing that ever slipped your mind. That is, if you can recall the event!

Note: Thanks to my friend, Andrew Goudy, for telling me about this video ... even though at the time he couldn't remember its name, called it, "Memory" and had to phone me back five minutes later to give me the real title.

Andrew, if you're looking for the keys to your pickup, try looking under the saddle on your horse. No, on second thought, that's probably where you left your cell phone. :)

Stay Calm

2011-01-10T08:44:00.002-07:00

Although this video isn't necessarily humorous, I think you'll find it quite interesting ... or maybe even amazing. It involves a 911 call with a little girl. Hope you enjoy it.

Wasn't that something?

If you get a minute, drop off a comment and tell me which part touched you the most. I loved the way she kept comforting her dad.

Hair ... by C.L. Beck

2011-01-03T09:55:00.012-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Hair! They wrote a play about it, and used the ultimate in creativity by calling it, Hair. They wrote a song about it, and used an even more creative title: Hair. Despite their lack of originality, the playwrights and songwriters (who were one and the same) apparently found it to be a fascinating subject.

I'm guessing they had hair envy.

Not to get too far off the subject, but I've always felt that my personal curse was hair. Not the song, but the stuff growing on my head. My tresses are neither long and lovely, nor sleek and silky. Instead, they are mostly stiff, pokey-outey and turning gray. The only thing that could be worse would be to have no hair at all ... like my husband, Russ.

Wait. Maybe that's not even true. He's so lucky; when he gets up, nary a hair is out of place ... mostly because he doesn't have enough to muss up. All Russ has to do in the morning is take a cloth, give his head a little buff and off he goes with the perfect—albeit, hairless—shine.

When I get up in the morning, however, my hair is enough to scare warts off a frog. Other women wake up looking beautiful but somewhere along the line I must have displeased the hair gods, and I look like I sleep with my head in a blender.

Over the years I've tried numerous hairstyles to improve my looks. In particular, I recall one from the fourth grade. I wanted to wear my hair in a ponytail, but since it was too thin when I pulled it up—resembling overcooked spaghetti tied with a rubber band—I went to the hairstylist for a "Pixie Cut." It looked cute on other little girls, but on me it looked like someone put a bowl on my head and turned Edward Scissorhands loose on me.

I wore it that way up through the sixth grade, much to the chagrin of my more "mature" friends, who were curling and fussing with their manes in order to impress the boys. That seemed a waste of time, in my opinion, since those same boys were out climbing trees and rollerskating with me, and couldn't tell a hair scrunchy from an egg beater.

Of course, in those days men were men and boys were boys. I'm not sure how they could actually have been any different, since there were only two genders and a person was either one or the other. Nowadays, I think there are something like four genders: men, sorta men, women, not quite women.

And back then, none of the guys would ever consider knowing anything about hair accessories, much less go to a stylist. They didn't get their ears pierced, either, and the only person with a nose ring was the Brahma bull on the farm at the edge of town. Well, okay, there was this one man on the block (according to those adults in the know) whose wife led him around by a ring through his nose. I wasn't sure what that meant. The one time I'd managed to sneak a look up the guy's nostrils, all I saw was nose hair.

By the time I reached high school I'd grown wiser, let my hair grow long, and parted it down the middle. It required no cutting at all and was known as the "California Surfer Girl Style." None of us knew how to surf, but that didn't matter because just the name of it was supposed to impress the boys. Yup, those same boys who were no longer climbing trees but had matured extensively and were now beating each other over the head for a football.

When we managed to pull the guys away from sports and out on a fancy date (otherwise known as the prom) we pulled all that hair up on top, so it looked like we were wearing hairy beehives on our heads.

If you look closely at the picture below, you might even see a few bees. You'll also pick up on the fact that my date actually had hair, too. That would be Russ, before his dark and wavy locks abdicated the throne. In addition, you'll notice that Russ and I seem almost the same height, and that twelve inches of my height is hair.

After I married Russ, I tried another exciting hair cut. It was called "The Shag" and as you can tell from looking at the old, definitely uncomplimentary photo below, it was basically a pixie cut on steroids. Not shorter, just shaggier.

So ... where does all this lead? Well, now that the new year is here I have resolved to give up hair styles. Yes, I'm going to quit paying for haircuts that the guys don't even notice and I'll do it the easy way. I've bought a new gel that the label says will impress the men in my life, and I'm going to apply it from root to tip and comb it outward. That way when I mention to my dad, my hubby, and son that I've "spiked it," at least they'll think it has something to do with football and they'll give a cheer.

------ © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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The Hokey-Pokey ... Shakespearean Style

2010-12-27T10:44:00.006-07:00

My friends, family, and readers often send me humorous e-mails and videos. I am so appreciative when they do because, first of all, they usually make me laugh. Secondly, they give me "fun stuff" to share out here on the blog.

My friend, Cathy Witbeck, recently sent an email that contained this note:

The following is from the Washington Post Style Invitational Contest, a weekly contest that the Post runs. In March 2003, they asked readers to submit “instructions” for something (anything), but to win this particular time it had to be written in the style of a famous person. The winning entry was the Hokey-Pokey as written by William Shakespeare.

Hokey-Pokey by William Shakespeare
By Jeff Brechlin

O proud left foot, that ventures quick within
Then soon upon a backward journey lithe.
Anon, once more the gesture, then begin:
Command sinistral pedestal to writhe.
Commence thou then the fervid Hokey-Poke,
A mad gyration, hips in wanton swirl.
To spin! A wilde release from Heaven’s yoke.
Blessed dervish! Surely canst go, girl.
The Hoke, the poke—banish now thy doubt
Verily, I say, ‘tis what it’s all about.
----

I hope you enjoyed that little ditty as much as I did. May 2011 be a wonderful year for you!

------Blog article © C.L. (Cindy) Beck; "The Hokey-Pokey by William Shakespeare" reported to be from the Washington Post------

Christmas Gift Exchange... by C.L. Beck

2010-12-20T10:53:00.016-07:00

Fun Stuff and Humorous Stories by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

(Also, announcing the Kroger-Chex giveaway winner, below!)

Hurray, a Christmas present in the mail, addressed to us from our friend, Frank! I opened it and on the Christmas tag inside it read: “To Vance and Beth.”

I narrowed my eyes and looked over at my hubby, Russ, to see if he'd noticed the gift. He seemed happily engaged in watching football, his sport of choice for December. Now was my chance! Since Vance and Beth were friends of ours, I felt certain they wouldn’t mind if I shook the package and listened for ~~money~~ a clue as to whether it was really meant for us or them.

And that’s when Russ slowly turned his head, resembling some robot thingy on Star Trek, and looked at me. He cocked his head to the side and raised one eyebrow like that well known vulture, Spock. Oops. I mean that well known Vulcan, Spock.

“Why are you shaking that?” he said, while taking it from my hands and reading the tag.

“I’m trying to figure out if it’s really meant for us or for Vance and Beth.” I snatched it back from him. Not that I cared if he knew who it was addressed to, but hey, if there was money in there it was mine!

I tucked the gift under my arm and moved out of grabbing range. “I think we need to open it so we know who it’s supposed to be for.”

A slight frown creased Russ’s forehead. “We don’t have to do that. Just email them and ask if they were expecting a gift from Frank. If they were, then it’s theirs. If they weren’t, then it’s probably meant for us and Frank just put the wrong tag on.”

It was a good suggestion, but I wasn’t about to tell Russ that because then he would think he knew enough to run the universe, and we certainly couldn’t have that.

The next day, I sent a note to Vance:

Dec. 10

Hey Vance, good buddy! We got a package mailed to us from Frank with your name on the gift inside. Do you usually exchange gifts, or can I assume this is meant for us? If it’s meant for you, do you want us to open it and tell you what it is so you can thank him, or just mail it on to you, unopened?

~ Cindy

PS: Even if there’s money in it, I’m certain there’s no money in it.

A day later, we received a reply:

Dec. 11

Hi Cindy and Russ: How are my good friends? No, we don’t exchange gifts with Frank. Heck, I have a hard enough time just getting out my Christmas cards, much less exchanging gifts. How about screening my gifts for me and opening it so I can send a thank you to Frank right away. Then you can mail it to me. We won’t tell Frank about the mix up.

~ Vance

I grabbed the scissors and with bated breath prepared to cut the ribbon on the package … when Russ walked into the room.

“What are you doing to Vance’s gift?”

“He said I could open it,” I replied, hiding the package behind my back. Russ scurried around behind me, ~~put me in a headlock~~, patted my arm and said, “No, you don’t need to open it. Just send it on to him.”

Muttering to myself about what I thought of a Grinch who wouldn’t let people open gifts that belonged to other people, I mailed the package off. Unopened and unharmed, even.

A few days later, another email came from Vance:

Dec. 17

Hi Cindy and Russ: Two boxes arrived in the mail from Frank today. One came from Utah and had your handwriting on it, with Frank’s return address. Which do I open? Oh, I know, I’ll open both and send you the one I don’t want! :)

~ Vance

Ha! That Vance was funny. Sooooo funny. I emailed him back:

Dec. 18

Hi Vance, who used to be my friend: Open my gift and you die!

~ Cindy

Two days later, the original package #1 from Frank came back to us from Vance, and another email arrived from Vance. Since Russ stood next to me as the email came in, I read it out loud to him:

Dec. 19

Hi Cindy and Russ! Get ready to smack your forehead again. Or better yet, smack mine. We mailed back to you the package #1 from Frank … you know, the one that came to you originally, that you shook, checked for money and then sent on to us.

In the meantime, I opened package #2 from Frank and realized that the gift inside had your names on it! I should have opened and looked at it before I sent you back the other one. I’m betting they contain the same gifts—or at least similar—but if you want, I’ll send the one with your name on it to you. I’m sure it won’t arrive before Christmas, though.

It feels like some sort of canned food …

Russ leaned closer to the email. “Canned food? Like green beans and Spam? What kind of present is that for Frank to send? Well, tell Vance he can keep the Spam and we’ll keep the Hickory Farms goodies that are probably in package #1.”

I gave package #1 another shake. It looked a little worse … okay, a lot worse for the wear, having been shipped around the country three times. And nope, still no money. Probably just green beans and Spam. But hey, a present’s a present, right?

I sat down and sent a note back to Vance:

Dec. 19

Hi Vance! I’m pretty certain both packages are the same, so we’ll keep the one we have here and you keep the one you have there, even though the names on the gift tags are wrong. I’m going to send a note to Frank tonight telling him the package he sent to Russ and me came and we’re waiting until Christmas to open it. I’m not going to tell him the reason I’m waiting is just in case another package shows up from him!

Have a great Christmas.

~ Cindy

(Note: This story is based on a real Christmas event. However, names have been changed so that no one thinks Frank lost his marbles. As for what was in the packages … both of them contained identical gifts from Hickory Farms. No Spam, but there was a small canned ham. And definitely no money!)

Wishing all of my readers a wonderful holiday season and a healthy, happy, prosperous new year!

----
Winner of the Kroger-Chex Giveaway: MARI! I'll be sending you an email, Mari, so that you can claim your prize. Thanks so much to all who entered the contest.

------Photo © ByTheBecks, story © C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

This blog sponsored by YourLDSNeighborhood.com.

Please show your appreciation by stopping for a visit. And take a minute to check out their newsletter, and yourLDSRadio as well!

Kroger and Chex Giveaway ... by C.L. Beck

2010-12-13T09:23:00.015-07:00

Yes, it's time for the Kroger-Chex Giveaway! But first, a few funnies and then the rules ...

Wahoo! It's that time of year when we bake delicious goodies and celebrate Christmas. In honor of the season, I'm holding a Kroger^®-Chex^® Giveaway for a chance to win one $25 Kroger Family of Stores gift card (includes Smiths, Food 4 Less, Fred Meyers, and others) and samples of Chex cereal.

Seriously, at my house it just does not feel like Christmas if we don't have Chex Party Mix. I've made many batches over the years, including Chex Traditional Party Mix and Chex Muddy Buddies. And yes, I'm telling you the truth when I say I buy my Chex cereal at Krogers! (Smith's Food and Drug.)

In 1986, my mom started making a party mix with Corn Chex that she calls Mexican Munchies and to the best of our knowledge, she's the original creator of the recipe. Sometimes I make a big batch for Christmas and freeze a portion for our New Year's celebration. That way we have double the Chex fun! I'll share that recipe with you ... it's posted below the giveaway rules.

What Chex Says:
Cheers to a season filled with delicious, homemade holiday treats! Kroger and Chex Cereal have joined forces to help you whip up recipes for your holiday entertaining that are easy on your time as well as your budget!

There are so many great tasting Chex Party Mix recipes that you can make in the microwave in only 15 minutes! Try The Original Chex Party Mix or Chex Ginger-Honey Crunch for sure crowd pleasers.

Looking for an easy gift idea for friends, family or co-workers? Try wrapping your favorite Chex Party Mix in a colorful tin or bag and personalize it with your own recipe card. (Note from Cindy: I've given Chex Mix many times and it's a wonderful gift!)

To make things even sweeter, Kroger Family of Stores will have Chex cereal on sale so you can impress your guests without stressing your wallet. For 3 weeks, from December 2nd - December 25th, Kroger will offer Chex cereal at their lowest prices of the year!

Kroger-Chex Giveaway Rules (Dec 13-Dec 19, 2010): To enter, leave a comment on this blog article before midnight MST, Dec 19, 2010. Please leave your email address so I don't have to track you down if you win. The winner will be announced on Monday, Dec 20.

Can't think of anything to say in a comment? Tell us which Chex products you enjoy the most, or share your favorite Chex recipe! Or, tell us which Kroger Family of Stores you enjoy shopping at.

(Thanks for entering! This giveaway sponsored by Chex, Kroger, and MyBlogSpark®. All information plus the compensation I received in the form of a $25 gift card and samples of Chex, came from from Chex and Kroger, and through MyBlogSpark. However, my opinions of the event, of the companies involved, and the quality of the products mentioned are my own. If for some reason there is no winner, or I can not get in contact with the winner, I will redraw or give the prize to charity, at MyBlogSpark's and my discretion.)

Mexican Munchies Recipe
By Roberta K.

1 can French-fried onions (3 ounce can)
1 can potato sticks (4 ounce can)
2 c. Corn Chex
3/4 cup Spanish peanuts
1/4 c. butter or margarine
2 Tbsp Mexican Munchies homemade seasoning mix, OR 2 Tbsp commercially prepared taco seasoning mix

In a large bowl, melt butter on high for 45 seconds. Stir in 2 TBSP of seasoning mixture. Add remaining ingredients and stir gently until all pieces are coated. Microwave on high for 6-7 minutes, stirring every 2 minutes. Place Mexican Munchies on paper towels to cool and then store in airtight container. May be frozen.

And one last funny ...

------ Blog article © C.L. (Cindy) Beck. Recipe © Roberta Kieliger. Funnies received in an email from Karen Mittan. Artists' websites are unknown. ------

Nutmeg: It's Not Just for Pie Anymore ... by C.L. Beck

2010-12-06T09:10:00.015-07:00

(Tags: nutmeg high, high on nutmeg, smoking nutmeg)

Today we're discussing the pressing topic of whether Congress will give us back our tax cuts or if instead they plan to put us all in the poor house. But first, let's talk about something of even greater importance: nutmeg!

The latest scuttlebutt making the rounds is—

Wait ... for those who don't know what "scuttlebutt" is, we'll break it down. "Scuttle" means to run around like cockroaches when the lights are turned out. (Not that any of us would know about cockroaches from experience.) The other half of the word, "butt," is the part of the anatomy a person sits on when doing nothing. Hence, "scuttlebutt" would be the cockroaches in Congress who sit on their butts doing nothing.

Oh, dang, I'm not sure how the words "in Congress" got in that last line. Gremlins, I suppose ... but ... I digress.

So, over the past few days, Yahoo News carried articles on kids smoking nutmeg. No, I am not nutty as a nutmeg, although the kids smoking the stuff must be. The info on nutmeg is entirely true ... well, as true as things from the Internet can be. And for your further edification, I've provided a real transcript—well, as real as things from my mind can be—from a conversation between two drug users.

Newbie Druggie: Ooo, far out man. What are we smoking today?

Professional Junkie: We're smoking nutmeg.

Newbie Druggie: Cool! I'll just stuff this piece of pumpkin pie in a pipe and smoke it.

Professional Junkie (as Newbie Druggie turns blue from inhaling pie) : I don't think that's how you do it. Let me go out to YouTube and watch the videos that show—

We interrupt this ~~fictitious~~ true conversation to warn you that there really are instructional videos on YouTube explaining how to smoke nutmeg. However, for your safety, we have not included links since there is a likelihood that the ATF is monitoring the place. Or maybe it's the FDA. Then again, it could be the YMCA.

And now, back to our highly educational discussion ...

Professional Junkie (staring at computer screen): Whoa, there's an awesome video out here on some book called Mormon Mishaps and Mischief by C.L. Beck and D.N Giles. But, bummer, it doesn't say how to smoke nutmeg. Let me try another clip.

Okay, this one says sprinkle the nutmeg on paper, roll it up, and light it.

Newbie Druggie (looking around): But dude, there's no paper in this room!

Professional Junkie: Yeah, I already tried smoking the newspaper to see if the ink would get me high, but all it did was flare up and burn off my eyebrows.

Newbie Druggie: No way, man! I always thought you were born that way.

Professional Junkie: Listen, go in the bathroom and get a bunch of toilet paper. We'll roll the nutmeg in that.

Newbie Druggie (returning with a long string of toilet paper that extends down the hall and into the bathroom): I kept it attached to the roll so if we need more, all we have to do is give a pull.

Professional Junkie: Most excellent idea, dude!

Newbie Druggie (lights the nutmeg joint and inhales deeply, never noticing as the toilet paper flares and fire runs down the line of TP like a fuse on dynamite): Oooo, far out. Cool colors on the ceiling and ... aaack, my nose hairs are on fire! Call the fire department!

Professional Junkie: Bummer, dude. Gotta split, but here's the phone.

And so ends our educational tête-à-tête for today. Tune in to future blogs where, on that night when the planets align and I win a Pulitzer prize, we'll discuss the pros and cons of smoking banana peels.

In the meantime, remember ... they don't call it "dope" for nothing!

------© C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Up on the Rooftop

2010-11-30T08:48:00.006-07:00

(Christmas story, fiction online, free fiction, story online, stories online, Cindy Lynn, C.L. Beck)

This Christmas story was written by a "friend" of mine named Cindy Lynn. Quite coincidentally, she's about 5' 4" tall, with blue eyes and facial features that are strikingly similar to mine. She even owns a dog named Corky Porky Pie! Now that's freaky and seems to go beyond coincidence, doesn't it?

At any rate, Cindy Lynn likes to dabble in stories online, and writes articles for Associated Content under a pen name. Why a pen name? Because writing Internet articles requires a certain amount of repetition of key words, so the articles read differently than other work she might do. But ... enough about me her ... let's get to the Christmas story.

Up on the Rooftop

"I believe in Santy Claus, and any one who doesn't is a danged fool!" Shorty made the statement and then stared at the man named Jake, sitting next to him in the half-empty, Royal Flush Saloon. Shorty squared his shoulders, waiting for the inevitable jeering and the fist fight that would follow his words. "I might be short, but I ain't puny and I can whip any man twice my size ... so don't try convincing me with a bunch of fancy talk about how there ain't no Santy."

As Jake looked at him, Shorty could've sworn he saw something intangible flit across the guy's face. Not a smile, exactly, but more like an invisible nod. Shorty laid his Stetson on the bar in hopes it wouldn't get mashed in the soon-to-be fight and steeled himself, waiting for the first punch.

Jake's arm snaked out, Shorty jerked to the side while bringing up his gnarled fists ... and Jake patted Shorty on the shoulder. "I'm not trying to convince you of anything; we're just having a conversation. Why don't we take this outside?" Jake stood up and nudged the cowpuncher away from the oak bar.

Shorty's brow creased and he clenched his jaw. "Quit shoving. If you want a fight, it don't matter to me where, but I don't take kindly to bein' pushed around like some ornery longhorn about to be branded."

As they stepped through the door, the cold, Christmas Eve air took Shorty's breath away. I got about two minutes to handle this tin horn before I'll be too stiff in the joints to even move—dad-blamed ol' bones.

He took a swing at Jake's nose, but the guy sidestepped, slipped behind him, wrapped his arms around Shorty's chest and squeezed. "Listen to me, you old galoot! We aren't out here to fight. I want you to help me with something."

Shorty gasped for breath. "Well, you shore got a funny way of askin' for help—squeezin' me until my eyeballs pop."

Jake loosened his grip and Shorty turned to face him. "Give me one good reason why I should help you."

"Well, let's just say that it's because you still believe."

Shorty eyebrows raised a notch, and he brought his fists up again. "You makin' fun of me?"

"No. I need you to help me get it down." Jake pointed up the road.

"Get what down from where?" said the ol' cowboy, cocking his head and feeling confused.

The moon sparkled on the new fallen snow as Jake scuffed at it and said, "My vehicle. It's stuck on the roof of some old building."

Shorty laughed, then doubled over and laughed some more. "I think you had yourself a mite too much to drink there, fella, but it's all right. Ol' Shorty will help you out. I've pulled trucks out of ditches and cars out of creeks, but this'll be the first time I ever pulled a pickup off a rooftop!"

They climbed into Shorty's truck and Jake give directions for Shorty to drive to a field a mile away. Sure enough, at the end of the field sat an old wooden building with a dented, Ford F-150 sitting on the roof.

Shorty stood below, shaking his head in disbelief. "You musta been nippin' at the bottle waaayyy too long. And I can't even begin to figure how you did this."

As they climbed up to the vehicle, Jake said, "Let me get in and start the engine, then you give it a push and that should do it."

Shorty stopped in mid-climb. "Well, I'll be corn-swaggled if that won't just end up droppin' that pickup off the roof and then rollin' it. Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

Jake's eyes twinkled in the moonlight and he laughed. "Yes, you'll see."

It was no easy climb, going up an old, rickety building but Shorty finally made it and hunkered down behind the truck. As the motor roared, Shorty gave the biggest push of his life and muttered, "I don't know why I'm doin' this. Some days I don't even have as much sense as a hop toad havin' a picnic on the highway."

The vehicle slid down and to the right, causing Shorty to pitch forward. Catching himself with his hands, he looked up just in time to see the pickup transform into a mahogany sleigh pulled by eight reindeer and driven by Jake—whose jeans and plaid shirt had turned into a red and white suit topped off by a stocking cap.

Shorty scratched his head in amazement. "Well, I'll be ... that truck was just a disguise, and Jake is Santy Claus!"

The sleigh moved into the air, and Santa waved. "Thanks for your help getting it unstuck, Shorty!"

The ol' cowboy looked down to see a brightly wrapped present at his feet, with a tag that said, "To Shorty, who has always believed." He picked it up and with a jump, slid off the roof and waved at the sleigh. "Thanks, Santy. And ya better stop along the way to get yourself a new pair of glasses ... otherwise you'll land on another outhouse fer sure!"

------Up on the Rooftop and photo © C.L. Beck------

The Christmas List ... by C.L. Beck

2010-11-22T12:04:00.012-07:00

Every year at about this time, I make up a Christmas wish list and give it to my husband, Russ. It usually includes practical items like blouses and sweaters, or maybe soul-soothing gifts like jewelry, perfume, and chocolates; all in the hopes that something—anything—on the list might actually end up under the tree.

Some women might think the men in their lives should come up with gift ideas all on their own, but gals, don’t be tempted with that thought. Men typically do not inherit a gift-giving gene from their mothers and the guys who do have nicknames like, “Pookie” and are decorating houses for a living.

But, if that’s not reason enough to give your sweetheart a wish list, here are a few more:

The Judge
Give the guy in your life a list so that you won’t end up with a weapon as your principal Christmas gift. When I say “weapon” I’m not talking a girly weapon like pepper spray—which in theory disables an attacker but in actuality fans out in a hairspray-like mist that blows back into your eyes, causing them to tear up and mascara to run down your face. But hey, at least it holds your hair in place.

Nor do I mean a paring knife, which all gals know are much more effective than mace because any man who sees a paring knife is afraid he’ll be asked to peel potatoes and takes off for the next county.

No, I'm talking a weapon that has a firing pin, trigger, and that needs to be carried in a holster that wraps around your chest—which would make any woman look like she’d grown an extra mammary gland. Not a bad thing, if one intends to be painted by Pablo Picasso, but it’s not what most women would request for Christmas.

But, let’s say that for one insane moment you considered doing that—no, not growing an extra mammary gland, but letting your guy give you a weapon for Christmas. For minimum requirements it would have to look pretty, with maybe a rainbow handle; have your name imprinted on the end where the bullet comes out, and carry a model name like, Sleep With Angels.

Nope, forget it. Gun manufacturers wouldn't even think of making a gun with that name, and your man would end up buying something with a nickname like, Blow the Guy’s Head Off or Blood in the Streets. Or even, The Judge. And yes, I made up those first two but The Judge is a real gun. Not that I would know from experience or anything.

.44 Caliber
Naturally, if your man buys you a gun, the next thing he’s going to purchase and put under the tree is bullets. No, not so you can string them and wear them around your neck, thus creating the latest fashion craze. Very few men would be caught dead (no pun intended) with a woman wearing bullets around her neck, although I hear there are a few living in compounds in Idaho who prefer women that wear their bullets bandoleer-style, across their chest. Obviously, they’re also the kind of men who don't mind if their gals resemble a Picasso painting.

Your guy will want to take you to an outdoor range and teach you how to shoot. The concept that men and women can stand side by side and shoot things is a myth perpetrated in the old west. Or maybe Montana; I'm not sure which. Your man will want to shoot at chipmunks, and you will stand there crying because he might have killed Chip and Dale (the cartoon chipmunks, not the dudes with muscles and skimpy underwear). He’ll want to use things like Necco Wafers as targets, which totally ruins them for eating. Or possibly shoot at cans of spray paint, which coincidentally are under pressure and will blow up, the shock wave making your hair frizz out all over your head while conveniently giving you non-removable paint streaks in your hair. Not that I would know this by experience, either.

American Handgunner
It’s safe to say that as a group, women are an uncomplaining lot. However, even the most laid-back among you would prefer that your Christmas gifts come wrapped in gaily-colored paper displaying scenes of snowmen and sleigh rides—not gun battles and automatic weapons. Nor will most of you approve of gift wrap depicting women in Miracle Bras and thongs, showing off the newest line of Thunderwear holsters.

By the time your sweetheart has bought you the gun, bullets, and Necco Wafers for targets, he’ll think nothing of wrapping those same gifts in pages torn out of the American Handgunner magazine.

In conclusion, take my advice—get that list written and handed to your man, lest you end up packin’ for the rest of your life. In the meantime, I’d love to give you more advice because I have a plethora of thoughts on this subject … but alas, it’s time for me to strap on The Judge and go grocery shopping.

(Dedicated to my friend, PackenMama, who knows her way around a shooting range almost as well as going shopping on e-Bay.)

------© C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Giblets Roasting on an Open Fire ... by C.L. Beck

2010-11-08T09:40:00.007-07:00

Photo © TheKohser, Wikimedia Commons

Ahhh, Thanksgiving—that time of year to eat roast turkey, smashed taters and stuffing. There’s only one way to make the stuffing and that's with sour dough bread and giblets. Okay, I hear some of you gagging at the mention of giblets, but mine is an old family recipe that tastes great. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be caught dead touching a giblet.

We have time honored traditions in our home and we follow them to the letter. One year, however, it didn’t go quite as expected. We watched the Macy’s parade in the morning while the giblets simmered on the stove. Then I turned them off (the giblets, not Macys), and made the stuffing using ... well ... I won’t tell you which parts, because you'll start gagging again.

I will say I’m picky about which innards go into my stuffing and there’s no way that gristly, ghastly gizzard was included. I left it in the pan of water and turned it back on so it would cook more, with the intention of feeding it later to the cats. Then I stuffed the gobbler and got that baby roasting.

While it cooked, we jumped into our truck and headed up the canyon to go skiing. I could almost catch a whiff of roast turkey floating among the pines, as the clouds threw dancing shadows that resembled pumpkin pies, and the snow looked like mounds of whipped cream.

After a couple of hours, it was time to go. On the drive down my tumbly was rumbly, thinking of the turkey that would be ready at home. My favorite Thanksgiving moment always happened when I walked in the door and the warmth of the kitchen washed over me, while the pungent odor of sage, onions and roast turkey wrapped me in a culinary hug.

I was the first to bail out of the truck, and raced to the door anticipating the aroma. I stopped short with my hand on the knob. “What’s that weird noise?”

My husband, Russ—being deaf in one ear and not able to hear out of the other—said, “What noise?”

“It sounds like a high-pitched whine.” Puzzled but not concerned, I turned the key in the lock and opened the door, inhaling to my fullest in preparation for the wonderful smells to come.

Acrid smoke poured out and rushed up my nose, while the smoke detector screamed like a wild banshee. “What’s going on?” I yelled to Russ over the din, waving my hands to clear a path through the smoke.

“Something’s burning!” he hollered.

“But what?” Had the turkey exploded and plastered itself all over the oven?

Just then our son, Dave, walked in and said, “Hey, something’s burning!”

Our family has a talent for stating the obvious.

By now, we were almost deaf. Apparently, it never occurred to fire alert manufacturers that some people might not dash out the door, but instead would stand around discussing what’s on fire.

What happened next should have qualified me as a firefighter of the tenth degree. I didn't waste my time looking for unnecessary equipment, like a fire extinguisher. Instead, I took decisive action, grabbed a dishtowel and flapped it frantically under the detector to clear the sensors and shut it up, while Russ dashed to the oven to pull out the turkey. Dave stood in the doorway, waving the door to clear the air, and cheered us on in between coughs.

Russ yelled at the top of his lungs, “It’s not the turkey. It’s something on the stove ..." He paused, inspecting the blackened pan. "It looks like a cremated gizzard!” Naturally, the smoke detector quite screaming just then, so that even strangers on the streets of Provo knew we had giblets roasting on an open fire.

Despite the fiasco of a holiday where our house smelled of burned gizzard—and we ate bundled in coats because the doors were opened to air out the smoke—it was a Thanksgiving to remember. Our son, now thirty-something, loves to tell the story to anyone who will listen.

Some might think it foolish to tempt fate, but I’ve cooked giblets every Thanksgiving since. A tradition such as that can’t be tossed out the window just because of a tiny mistake like an incinerated innard. Besides, I’ve learned from the error of my ways and now take precautions.

The night before Thanksgiving, I pull the battery out of the smoke detector.

------© C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Bill Dancer's Classic Bloopers

2010-11-02T07:32:00.001-06:00

Posted by C.L. (Cindy) Beck

Hopefully, you won't have seen this blooper video before ... but even so, you'll laugh again. I've probably watched it at least ten times and I still giggle at the things that happen to Bill Dancer.

And now that you've had a chance to watch it, which segment made you laugh the most? The one that tickles me every time is when the motor pops loose from the boat!

The Halloween 5K ... by C.L. Beck

2010-10-25T11:42:00.004-06:00

It was a dark and stormy night ….

Really, I’m not stealing that phrase, even though it came from famed novelist, Bulwer-Lytton who was known for his purple prose, which, according to the venerable Wikipedia is “prose so overly extravagant, ornate, or flowery as to break the flow and draw attention to itself,” but despite its fancy definition—a definition which reminds me of molasses running downhill on a hot day—I believe it’s a form of writing that’s so terrible it might not even be purple but more like red because that’s what people see when they read writing like that … red like the color of my true love’s hair—except Russ has no hair on top and what’s left on the sides is silvery—or love that’s like a red, red, rose, which, by the way, was written by the Scotsman, Robert Burns, and I’m pretty certain that he never wrote purple prose, but it could be that he wore a purple kilt.

But, I digress … it really was a dark and stormy night. Despite having almost killed myself by inhaling my gum in a previous 5K, in Mona, Utah, I’d ~~stupidly~~ bravely decided to try again this year. No, not to kill myself—to run another race. So it was, on a dark and stormy Saturday night, that Russ and I ran in the American Fork 2010 Halloween Fun Run.

The good thing about it was that unlike last summer in Mona, no dust lingered in the air to clog the sinuses. Instead, rain fell from the sky in torrents, lightening flashed overhead, and voices screeched in the night. Well, maybe that was just the little ol’ lady in front of me trying to clear her throat, but all the same ….

When we finished the first leg of the course, I noticed odd street markers that said things like, “Here lies Betty Joe, who lost her foot in last year’s snow. She ran a Halloween 5K and regrets it, under ground, this day.”

I looked at Russ to see if he’d noticed. He seemed oblivious to the oddness as he ran along in triple layers consisting of long underwear, a bright orange tee shirt that read, “Psych Ward, 666” and a sweatshirt that didn’t have any slogan … unless you include that spot of chicken soup left over from lunch. Perspiration dripped off his bald head and into his eyes. I said, “Don’t you think you’re a little overdressed for running?”

He wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’m keeping my muscles warm.”

I resisted the temptation to ask what muscles, and instead said, “Did you see that weird street sign back there?”

Russ slowed to a walk, which kept him even with me as I ran my hardest. “It wasn’t a street sign, Cindy, it was a headstone. This course runs through the town’s cemetery.”

I shuddered at the thought, which caused me to stumble over my own two feet. “I’m not sure I remembered that when we registered," I muttered, and then wondered if those were the voices of other runners on the wind, or ghosties in the graveyard.

The full moon came out from behind the clouds just enough for me to see the glow sticks fastened around various parts of the anatomies of the other 3,250 runners—the glow sticks being a tribal symbol to signify acceptance of the runner’s spiritual code.

Okay, so maybe I exaggerate slightly. There were only about 250 runners. The other 3,000 were smart enough to come in out of the rain and they’d all stayed home. The glow sticks were so we could see each other, and for the most part, runners fastened them around their necks. That is, all except for Russ, who hung them off his ears.

What can I say? I brought Russ along for comic relief, so that I wouldn’t notice the torturous leg cramps that would inevitably happen because I hadn’t trained for the race.

Knowing how easy it would be to trip in a pothole, I whipped out my trusty flashlight—the one that normally sat in my well-stocked, emergency preparedness kit. (All right, I'll tell the truth, I'd actually bought it at the hardware store just an hour before.) Russ looked over, and if it hadn’t been so dark, I swear I would have seen that gleam in his eye. “Here, let me carry that flashlight for you,” he said, ever so sweetly. I handed it over, thinking what a kind and noble man my bald-headed knight was.

By now we’d struggled up Snob Hill, which actually may have been Knob Hill, but I couldn’t clearly hear the name as the staff shouted it from the side of the road. Why didn’t they use a megaphone? How could I possibly hear correctly over the sound of my lungs screaming for air?

Down the hill we went. Thank goodness the American Fork police had parked a cruiser, with its bright lights flashing, to mark the last leg of the course. Yes, very bright lights. Blinding lights! Spots covered the interior of my eyeballs; I sideswiped the cop standing in the road, and almost turfed it when I ran into the curb.

Righting myself, I zeroed in on Russ’s voice. “We’re near the end, Cin. You can do it. Keep going. We’re going to beat our previous time!”

And that’s when I remembered my resolve to finish ahead of him. I’d almost done it at last year’s 5K and if it hadn’t been for that pesky piece of gum lodging itself in my throat and cutting off my wind, I would have made it.

A toasty glow enveloped me at the thought that I had outsmarted Russ. Either that or I was in the last stage of hypothermia, where you feel warm and then drop dead from the cold, damp air. At any rate, it didn’t matter which. I was bound to beat him because I’d tossed my gum before we even got to American Fork.

The blue, electronic finish light lay only yards ahead. I psyched my mind and strengthened my loins. This was it. My course was clear. I would put on a burst of speed, pass Russ and beat him at the last moment. I would be the fastest runner in the family, I would be ….

Russ whirled toward me, the flashlight in his hands instantaneously blinding me. “Ha ha, I win!” he said, sprinting toward the finish line. Well, I think he sprinted. He could have crawled and still beaten me, because I staggered in circles like a drunken sailor, trying to clear my vision.

Oh, he’s a speedy runner all right, but cunning and stealth beat speed every time.

As I caught up to him after crossing the finish line, we lurched into the recreation center where an official-looking woman said, “Did you win?”

We shrugged our shoulders, and I said, “How would we know?”

The woman stared at us like this was only our second race and we didn’t know what we were doing, and then said, “It’s on your time card.” She took them from us, looked them over and then handed them back to us. “You’ve won second place in your age group,” she said to Russ over the noise of the crowd.

Russ, the bald-headed, hard-of-hearing knight, looked at me and said, “What did she say?”

Before I had a chance to answer, she gave my card back to me. “You’ve won third place in your age group.” Then she handed Russ’s second place ribbon to me and handed my third place ribbon to Russ.

Russ looked at white ribbon in his hand and said, “So, I guess I took third place in my age group?”

I grinned—a sardonic, "gotcha" grin. “Guess so. And I got a second place ribbon!”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie, because after all, the official did hand me that ribbon. And maybe I’ll eventually tell Russ he won second place. Someday. Before the next race. But in the meantime, I’ll just keep reminding him that cunning and stealth beat speed every time.

------© C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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The Bodies in the Basement ... by C.L. Beck

2010-10-18T10:45:00.003-06:00

Photo © Knutux, Wikimedia Commons

With Halloween so close, it's only fitting that today's post consist of something with a bit of suspense, and so I give you ...

The Bodies in the Basement
(Complete with scary organ music and screams in the distance.)

Kat Nilsson wrote the words, "I was watching CSI Miami," in big loopy letters on the legal pad in her lap. Then, since she had writer's block, she doodled in the loops.

After a few minutes of wasted time, Kat scratched her head with the point of her yellow pencil and sighed. "No. That's not right. I can't start a novel out that way. I hate CSI. Can't stand those women with whitened teeth, brightened faces, and over-tightened blouses." Kat erased the words with a vengeance, as if erasing the facial features of the botoxed movie stars.

She started again. "Stacy heard a knock at the door, and just as she went to answer—"

As Kat wrote those words, a deep thump, thump, thump reverberated through the house. With a sigh big enough to sink a battleship, Kat threw the pencil into a mug of assorted pens and walked to the front room to see who was knocking.

The wind whistled as she opened the heavy, wooden door, and a chill ran between her shoulder blades. No one stood there. Not a living soul. Attached to the door by a feathered dart was an off-white sheet of paper, with dark, thick handwriting.

It read:

Kat,
If you find the dog, call me.
PS: The bodies are in the basement.

"The basement?" she whispered. Kat shuddered and tugged her bedraggled University of Wyoming sweatshirt tight around her body. There was a basement in her house. An old basement with a cold, concrete floor—a room she never, ever, ever went into because ... well ... anyone who writes murder mysteries knows that something horrifying always happens in the basement.

Scanning the bottom of the note and then turning the paper over, Kat looked for a clue as to who wrote it. No signature, not even a grimy thumbprint to give a hint.

That's when she heard it—a thin, high-pitched, forlorn howl from under the house. For one illogical second her heart rocketed with fear and she thought about screaming and running to the neighbors. But then, her writer's curiosity kicked in. Who left the note and why did they put a dog in the basement? How did they know about the basement? Who, what, when, where, how and why?

She counted friends on her fingers. Josi? No, she didn't own a dog. Nichole? Yes, Nichole was a jokester all right, but also allergic to anything with fur, including....

Like a good Catholic girl, Kat crossed herself for luck. She might be allergic to aspen and eucalyptus, but at least she wasn't allergic to mink, like Nichole.

Bulldog, Rex, or Nipsey? Goodness knows their names were doggy enough, but no, they were all too tenderhearted to shove a dog in a basement in order to scare a writer wordless.

It had to be a practical joke, pulled by the neighbor-kid-from-hell, who was always throwing tomatoes at her car when he thought she wasn't looking. Yup, that had to be it. When she got the dog out of there, she was going to have a long talk with that boy's parents.

Hitching up her sweatpants, she closed the door behind her and walked around the redwood-sided house to the back yard. Autumn leaves crunched under her Big Bird slippers and she realized that they might be a lucky charm when writing, but they wouldn't do much to protect her against earwigs, black widow spiders, and uggg ... stink bugs ... that might be in the basement. But it was too late now; her feet took her down the concrete steps as if they had a mind of their own.

Ssshhh. What was that?

A rustling noise, like a lady's crisp, crinoline underskirt, drifted to Kat's ears. And then, silence. Certain that she'd psyched herself out, Kat took a deep breath and with one hand on the rust-encrusted doorknob, listened again.

Not a sound.

No dog howling, no skirts rustling.

Nothing.

Feeling weak in the knees, and even weaker in the head, she turned the knob and pushed the door. Its hinges squeaked. Dang. She hadn't done it hard enough, and now she'd have to step inside, in that dark, damp, hole-in-the-ground and push the door all the way open with her shoulder. Why hadn't she thought to bring a flashlight?

Kat stepped over the doorjamb and shoved. The door slowly inched back, but it was almost as if light feared entering the room. Darkness reigned, and the tiny shaft of brightness that had the courage to shine against the door slowly dimmed as clouds obscured the sun.

That's when she heard it—an otherworldly moan. And she could make out two bodies, lying on the floor, legs bent at sharp angles, tongues hanging out. A shriek caught in her throat. She wanted to whirl and run but her legs refused to obey.

The shapes unkinked their legs, rose up in front of her, and Kat screamed—a wordless, soundless scream.

"Surprise!" shouted the two bodies as they flicked on flashlights. Hoots of laughter and a chorus of happy birthdays erupted from around the room. They were all there, Josi, Nichole, Bulldog, Rex and Nipsey. And Kat wanted to kill every one of them.

If it wasn't for Bulldog handing her a puppy that kissed her cheek and snuggled against her shoulder, she would have done it. But then, how mad could she really be, when they'd braved the basement in order to throw a surprise party?

"The puppy's your present from all of us," Bulldog said. "Any author who writes about murder needs a dog to curl up with and to protect her from the gaboogities at night."

The puppy nuzzled Kat's neck, and her heart rate slowly returned to normal. Josi leaned over and stroked the dog's soft fur. "What are you going to call her?"

Kat's eyes twinkled, "After the scare you've all given me, I'm going to name her Heart Attack."

And with that, the puppy pointed her nose in the air and gave a howl of agreement.

(Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental. The dog represented in this fictional story is not based on Lassie, Benji, or any other dog of public fame. (And sshhh, don't tell anyone, but you can view a striking likeness of the author's main character by clicking here and the dog in the story does bear an uncanny resemblance to Corky Porky Pie, the author's Welsh Corgi.)

------© C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Funny State Slogans

2010-10-11T09:59:00.006-06:00

Posted by C.L. Beck

Image © Zul32, Wikimedia Commons

Although I've come up with a few state slogans of my own, I've never managed to come up with enough for all fifty states. However, the other day as I was ~~browsing the net~~ working, I ran across this list. And I knew my readers would love it. So, here it is, with a few minor modifications by me (in order to keep this site family friendly) and a big thank you to JokesAndHumor.com for allowing me to post this list.

State Slogans

Alabama: Yes, We Have Electricity
Alaska: 11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!
Arizona: But It's A Dry Heat
Arkansas: Literacy Ain't Everything
California: By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic Than Your Honda
Colorado: If You Don't Ski, Don't Bother
Connecticut: Like Massachusetts, Only The Kennedys Don't Own It Yet
Delaware: We Really Do Like The Chemicals In Our Water
Florida: Ask Us About Our Grandkids
Georgia: We Put The Fun In Fundamentalist Extremism
Hawaii: Haka Tiki Mou Sha'ami Leeki Toru (Death To Mainland Scum, But Leave Your Money)
Idaho: More Than Just Potatoes. Well Okay, We're Not, But The Potatoes Sure Are Real Good
Illinois: Please Don't Pronounce the S
Indiana: 2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free
Iowa: We Do Amazing Things With Corn
Kansas: First Of The Rectangle States
Kentucky: Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names
Louisiana: We're Not ALL Drunk Cajun Wackos, But That's Our Tourism Campaign
Maine: We're Really Cold, But We Have Cheap Lobster
Maryland: If You Can Dream It, We Can Tax It
Massachusetts: Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden's (For Most Tax Brackets)
Michigan: First Line Of Defense From The Canadians
Minnesota: 10,000 Lakes. And 10,000,000,000,000 Mosquitoes
Mississippi: Come And Feel Better About Your Own State
Missouri: Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars At Work
Montana: Land Of The Big Sky, The Unabomber, Right-Wing Crazies, And Very Little Else
Nebraska: Ask About Our State Motto Contest
Nevada: Hookers and Poker!
New Hampshire: Go Away And Leave Us Alone
New Jersey: You Want A ##$%##! Motto? I Got Yer ##$%##! Motto Right Here!
New Mexico: Lizards Make Excellent Pets
New York: You Have The Right To Remain Silent, You Have The Right To An Attorney
North Carolina: Tobacco Is A Vegetable
North Dakota: We Really Are One Of The 50 States!
Ohio: At Least We're Not Michigan
Oklahoma: Like The Play, Only With No Singing
Oregon: Spotted Owl. It's What's For Dinner
Pennsylvania: Cook With Coal
Rhode Island: We're Not REALLY An Island
South Carolina: Remember The Civil War? We Didn't Actually Surrender
South Dakota: Closer Than North Dakota
Tennessee: The Educashun State
Texas: Si, Hablo Ingles (Yes, I Speak English)
Utah: Home of The Stinky Great Salt Lake
Vermont: Yep
Virginia: Who Says Government Stiffs And Slackjaw Yokels Don't Mix?
Washington: Help! We're Overrun By Nerds And Slackers!
Washington, D.C.: Wanna Be Mayor?
West Virginia: One Big Happy Family. Really!
Wisconsin: Come Cut The Cheese
Wyoming: Only Snows Once All Winter (And Then Just Keeps Blowing It Back And Forth Across The Roads)

And now that I've thoroughly annoyed at least one person in every state in the Union, I'll ask those who enjoyed this list to drop off a comment and let me know your favorite. I got a big laugh out of Hawaii's slogan!

The Writing Assignment Gone Awry ... by C.L. Beck

2010-10-04T09:50:00.002-06:00

“What’s the writing assignment that’s due in our writer’s group tomorrow?” I asked Russ for the fourth time that week. The assignment was usually a unique topic designed to stretch our imaginations.

“Bored with dark glasses,” he answered between tightly drawn lips, and over the noise of his electric razor. Russ never liked shaving and talking at the same time because he usually cut himself, so his answers were always succinct. I, personally, don’t understand that. I can shave my legs and talk at the same time. Sometimes, on a good day, I could even shave my legs and walk at the same time.

No matter. Meandering into the kitchen, I pulled on my copper-tinted Maui Jim shades. They didn’t seem that boring, so for a little hands-on experiment, I decided to walk out into the bright sunshine without them and gaze at the sun.

The minute I looked up at El Sol, dark spots the size of a Boeing 747 zinged through my eyeballs, and boring or not, I needed those sunglasses. Turning in a circle, I tried to remember which direction I should walk to reach the house. The dark spots turned with me and I staggered toward something tall. Surely, that was the door.

“Aaackkk—the clothesline pole,” my brain screamed as I bounced off the post. A knot the size of a tractor tire grew out of my forehead, while the wasps that lived in the hollow pole flew toward me, sharpening their little harpoon butts on the way.

You don’t need good vision to know when a swarm of angry buggers are after you. I ran pell-mell toward what should have been the gate, the dark spots in my eyes fleeing with me.

Who, with any brains, leaves tools in front of the gate? For that matter, who moved the gate over to the garden? Tripping over the Mantis tiller, I tumbled through the vegetable patch, tomatoes splatting against my face while the wasps buzzed merrily behind me. I slid to a stop at the end of the row and lay there, swatting at the bees and planning revenge on the man who forgot to put away the tiller.

Then the screen door creaked open.

Laughter. Someone was laughing. I looked up and saw Russ with a halo around his head. A halo was a definite impossibility for the man who’d left a mechanized garden tool for me to trip over.

Certain that he had it coming to him, I grabbed the nearest tomato. Just as I let it fly in his general direction, I heard Russ’s voice floating past on the breeze, “Cindy, we have company.”

My vision cleared in time to see Corky Porky Pie, the dog, licking drips off our visitors’ shoes as Russ wiped splattered tomato from their faces. He apologized profusely as he walked our guests out of the yard and to their car.

I hollered at their retreating backs, “Wait! Come back! I’m not usually like this. It’s just that I’m a writer.”

As they jumped in their car and peeled out of the driveway, I lay in the dirt and pondered life’s golden questions. Who am I? Where have I come from? Where am I going? And most importantly of all … why can’t I call back a Beefmaster tomato after chucking it at a pair of new home teachers?

Okay, so I know that last thought has never been included in the golden questions, but I’m here to tell you folks … it should be!

------© C.L. (Cindy) Beck------

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Medical Terms

2010-09-27T14:05:00.001-06:00

Maybe it's because I studied medical terminology in college—back before I realized that I didn't really like needles and being in a hospital gave me the whim-whams—that these definitions seem so funny. Or, possibly it's because they are funny that they seem so ... well ... rib-tickling! Regardless of the reasons for my own enjoyment, I know you'll get a kick out of them.

MEDICAL DEFINITIONS

ANTIBODY - against everyone

BENIGN - what you be after you be eight

BOWEL - letters like a, e, i, o, u

CESARIAN SECTION - a district in Rome

CAT SCAN - searching for lost kitty

CHRONIC - neck of a crow

COMA - punctuation mark

CORTISONE - area around local courthouse

CYST - short for sister

DIAGNOSIS - person with a slanted nose

DILATE - the late British princess

DISLOCATION - in this place

DUODENUM - couple in jeans

ENEMA - not a friend

FALSE LABOR - pretending to work

GALL BLADDER - bladder in a girl

GENES - blue denim

HERNIA - she is close by

IMPOTENT - distinguished, well-known

LABOR PAIN - hurt at work

LACTOSE - person without digits on the foot

LYMPH - walk unsteadily

MICROBES - small dressing gowns

OBESITY - city of Obe

PROTEIN - in favor of teens

PULSE - grain

PUS - small cat

RED BLOOD COUNT - Dracula

SECRETION - hiding anything

SERUM - sailors' drink

SUBCUTANEOUS - not cute enough

TABLET - small table

TUMOR - extra pair

ULTRASOUND - radical noise

From GCFL.net
----

If you get a sec, drop off a comment and tell me which one you enjoyed the most. My favorite was the definition for "benign." I'm still chuckling over it.

*C.L. Beck: Write Up My Alley*