Saturday, April 28, 2007

Have you seen this commerical?

Febreze Allergen Reducer Fabric Refresher

The woman is on drugs. Can anybody can be that happy about an Allergen Reducer Fabric Refresher?

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Heavenly Thoughts

I like to think about Heaven a lot. I like to believe that Heaven is exactly the type of place you can imagine. My heaven would be being able to “tune in” to the Earth Channel to see how things are going. Your living room would be just what you imagine. My living room would be as if I lived in a tree, like a little gnome in a Narnia whimsical way, perhaps like Mr And Mrs Beavers' house OH! Or better yet, maybe like a Hobbit from Lord of the Rings….I’ve wanted to duplicate Samwise Gamgee’s garden, you see it when he comes home to his bartender/wife…ah yesss…I’ve bought some poppies, which ought to really sprout this being their second year….I digress…. Your home could be a cloud if you wanted and if it was a cloud, I would totally want to come over and watch the Earth channel with you on your billowy couches. *Glee* Ew, just think, we could eat Philadelphia cream cheese and everything. OK, so back to imagining. I would have a big red button in my room and like a game show, if that big red button lit up and I was home from flying around heaven it would mean that I could say the next line. OH! Maybe that’s what the show would be called, The Next Line. OK, for example, let’s say I’ve tuned into my Grandchild and his spouse during an discussion about finances and I know that his spouse has been saving up to buy him Season Tickets to the hockey game, then suddenly my red light goes on and a big red arrow over who I’m able to feed the line to, then I’d speak into the microphone attached to the big red button and say something like …. Gee...... What would I say?…. Ok, maybe I don’t want to play that game. But I would like to watch the Earth Channel.

Since there’s no Earth Channel, this is good to read, it makes me think about how my father would say “Yup, she’s growing like a weed” (sorry about the lack of spaces, I'm rushed):

A Tolkien Fanfiction Archive

The Making of SamwiseA history of Samwise Gamgee's life as he grows into his destiny. Author: Bill The PonyRating: NC-17

Sam knelt down on the green grass in the garden at Bag End, his dirty fingers busy in a flowerbed. The hot Sun beat down on his shoulders and he was thirsty, but this was Mr. Bilbo's garden and his dad had told him they wouldn't stop till it were done up proper. He was starting to know the difference between flowers and weeds, which was more knowledge than he had when he first started out, and he reckoned that was why he'd been allowed to move from working in his mother's garden to working here. He was glad, though he didn't mind helping his mother; at Bag End there was always the hope that he might see or hear something interesting-- what with Mr. Bilbo and Mr. Frodo being in and out all the time, he saw a lot more of them working here than he did at home. Sam knelt, eyeing the flowerbed carefully, making sure he hadn't missed nothing. It still troubled him to pull up the young, tender shoots of green grass, the ruffled purple basil that had spread out of the herb beds and went well nigh everywhere, and the dandylions that bloomed so pretty of a summer, but he knew he'd better do it because the Gaffer said he must. "That's a good clean job you're doing, Sam." The Gaffer came up behind him without warning, as though conjured by his thought, and directed him to a new patch to work in now that the first was finished. "Mind 'ee don't disturb the roots o' them lilies. Mr. Bilbo favors them special." "I still don't see why such as these can't stay," Sam puffed, pulling at a thick clump of dandylion leaves. The soil was moist and the dirt rich and loose, but the tough root had sunk deep, and he couldn't budge it. "They bloom up right pretty." "That they do, but let 'em run free, and soon they'd take the whole bed." The Gaffer crouched down next to Sam and curled his hard fingers around the stubborn clump of leaves, uprooting it easily. "We'll let them bide in the lawn, where they belong, but not hereabouts. That's the place as is for grass and dandylions, and this is the one as is for lilies, see." Sam nodded and wiped his brow. "Still, I can't help but feel sorry for them, sir." "I know, lad. You've got a soft spot for living things, and it'll make you a fine gardener." The Gaffer watched with satisfaction as Sam patted down the ruffled soil where the dandylions had grown, making sure the nearby lily bulbs and their roots were well-covered. "There's good soil beneath your fingernails, lad." It was rare praise, and Sam blushed, flustered. "Now, them dandylions." The Gaffer held up the cluster he'd uprooted. "They grow anywhere, I reckon. You can't crowd 'em out, you can't mow 'em out, you can't give 'em too much sun. They even like the shade, seemingly. If you dig 'em out, the wind just blows seed straight back and you've got a new crop right soon. But the lilies and the roses-- they're different. You have to feed 'em and keep 'em weeded and mulch 'em in for winter, or they die out. Some withers in frost in spite of all that can be done for 'em. Them pansies, now, they can't take too much sun, or they straggle out and quit blooming. That begonia's got to come inside over winter. Spinach and lettuce bolts when it gets hot. Taters turn green and bitter and they don't bear good if you don't work soil up to the plants." He paused to reflect. "You've got to know what's wanted and serve the needs of each, or they won't serve you." He paused to reflect, and Sam listened intently. "It's the same with people, seemingly. Some of 'em, now, they're like dandylions; they thrive all right most any place they poke their heads up. Some are like the roses, and they take a lot of care, and others won't bloom no matter what-- such as them are the ones you might as well weed right out, though you'd best not go repeating that last, Samwise Gamgee." He straightened with a crackle of knees and returned to his pruning, culling out dead blackberry canes and piling them on a barrow. "So if I don't pull up the grass, it won't let the lilies grow." Sam frowned. "And if someone don't butcher pigs or wring the neck of a chicken now and then, families go hungry." His brother Hal spared a hand to tousled Sam's curly head, back with a load of mulch in a cart. "It's all to make life better, see?" Sam nodded, and he though he saw the sense, he still felt bad about it. He pondered the matter for the rest of the morning, listening to the rhythm of his Gaffer's shears.

Out of the Boo

Funny little e-mail I received this morning, thought I'd share it with y'all....

The World's Shortest Fairy Tale...

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?"
The girl said, NO!" And the girl lived happily ever after and
went shopping,dancing, camping, drank martinis,
always had a clean house, never had to cook,
did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued,
didn't get fat, travelled more, had many lovers,
didn't save money, and had all the hot water to herself.
She went to the theatre, never watched sports,
never wore fricken lacy lingerie that went up her ass,
had high self esteem, never cried or yelled,
felt and looked fabulous in sweat pants,
and burped, swore, and farted all the time.