Come Again?

I just had to go and ask a dumb question.  What’s wrong with me?  I need to think things through, and use Google more often, apparently – before asking my husband weird questions.

The other day, my daughter was talking about how her 6 foot 3 inch boyfriend throws her over his shoulder.  This reminded me of when my husband did that to me, back in our college days, and when my ex-boyfriend (rest in peace) did the same thing.  He also was over 6 feet tall.

On his way home from work earlier (YAY for early days!), I decided to ask my husband why men throw their women over their shoulders.  After a few moments of silence, I hear a snicker, followed by “It’s a caveman thing”. ………………………………………. and more laughter after he heard my response.  I’m certain he imagined my matching facial expression.

So, I proceeded to Google anyways, and found out that it’s probably because they like to ‘sweep their women off their feet’.  RIGHT.

I don’t know the real answer, but I’m going to assume it’s to demonstrate strength and dominance – because what women doesn’t want a strong, dominant man?

Wait … what did I just admit to?

Bye

 

Good News For Bigfoot!

Just a bit ago, when my husband called me during his lunch hour, he sat in his office reading me some pretty interesting laws.

I’d just like to know one thing:

When did sasquatch poaching become an issue? I mean, did some guy have a basement full of bigfoot fur, and one of his jealous hunting buddies decided to blow him in to the authorities at fish and wildlife?

And just how many sasquatch are out there if it is an issue? Do I even want to know? I’ll stay right were I’m at, thank you very much. No wooded mountains for me!

I’m usually up to snuff on some of the more common myths. Hence when hubby read me these laws, I choked on my coffee when he said it’s illegal to kill sasquatch in Washington state.

Even more bizarre is when the police have to take a cat away for chasing a dog up a telephone pole. “Sorry, Fluffy. I don’t care who started it. You’re coming with me.”

And finally, you know the current situation in America is bad when dogs start getting offended because their owner made a face at it – which is illegal in Oklahoma, in case you didn’t know.

Eden

Locks of gold
Orbs of light
Manicured digits
Presence excites

Veiled countenance
Confident stance
Enchanting energy
Provoking a trance

Resentfully sharp
Prowler beware
Gone in an instant
Much like a hare

Such beauty should be
Observed with respect
Lest it transform
In attempt to deflect

Listen don’t look
Wise words train
For those who take heed
Glorious sound shall remain

Original poem by Cara Krzyzanowski 18 August 2017

 

Ad Senseless

What is happening with YouTube?  And the internet for that matter…

Well, YouTube really isn’t the root of the problem. It’s the human race in general.

But why?

What a shame if the concern about hate speech is preventing many aspiring hopefuls from earning money.

I understand the need to reduce as much hate speech as possible, but come on.  Whether or not it is eradicated from [social] media, hate will always exist. As will many other less than positive behaviors and thought processes.  There are no two ways about it.  Suppression does not equal elimination.

I’d say these restrictions target at least 75% of the content on YouTube.

I hate to break it to everyone, but life will never be strictly rainbows and unicorns. Good cannot exist without evil, and vice versa.

Limiting free speech only strengthens anger and hate.

Sooner or later, creators will become fed up, and resort to alternative moneymaking options. Many are already switching to Patreon. Where will that leave sites like YouTube?

Sorry, but there is no true ‘safe place’ in the world.

And finally, S M H.

 

Ptooey!

Should I even go there?  Do I want to relive trauma?

Since the anniversary of Stephen King’s IT, I’ve been experiencing a string of nightly terrors.  I don’t mean just bad dreams.  I’m talking horrifying terrors – of a clown that terrorized me on my 8th birthday.  I haven’t slept in over a week, give or take an hour here and there.

All those who remember The Ground Round restaurant, raise your hand.  Yeah.  Great place – except for Bingo the f*cking creep clownWHOSE idea was it to have a clown terrorize children?!  There’s a special place in hell for them.

Rewind back to 1978 – my 8th birthday.  My parents decided to spoil me, and had a huge party at the Ground Round restaurant.  Let me set the scene for you.  Imagine a place that resembles today’s Texas Roadhouse.  At every table – covered with red and white checkered table cloths – there were buckets of peanuts.  The floors were hard wood, and there was country music playing on the jukebox.

Back in the day when jukeboxes were a thing, my birthday party should’ve been fanfreakingtastic!  I’d bug my parents for quarters, and play music to my heart’s content, whilst playing the pinball machine against my brother.  But since my closest friends were also there, my musical fun was limited.  As my best friend used to say (and still probably does) “You and your stupid music”.  Leave my music alone.

Imagine, if you will, the largest room in the place, cleared for my birthday.  There were about a dozen family members, and ten or so of my best friends.  All having a grand old time.  Until …….

http://i1.wp.com/howickclub.co.nz/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/Bingo-the-clown.jpg?fit=150%2C145

Sorry, but I refuse to put an actual picture. I might punch my screen.  Or spit at it.

Bingo the birthday clown has decided to pop up from nowhere, scaring the living shit out of me.

Why am I scared of clowns?  Shall I rewind a little further back?  Okay.  When I was four years old, my parents decided to take me to our local theme park, where there was of course a f*cking clown.  Needless to say, creepy creeperton decided to single me out in a crowd of a few hundred, and got two inches from my face.  He proceeded to stroke my face, calling me darling, and pinned a star on my chest for being such a good sport.  Excuse me.  I don’t think being terrified of your painted molesting mug equates being a good sport.

Fast forward back to my eighth birthday.  After a few rounds of Bingo popping up from the depths of Ground Round HELL, I decided to fix his little red-wigged wagon.  On my way to the little girl’s room with my friends, he decided to jump out at me from behind a door right next to the bathroom.

His day ended with a mouthful of spit, and my day ended at a table with my parents, since my friends were so embarrassed, they didn’t want to sit with me anymore.

Until a year or so before my mom passed, she never knew what had happened.  She just figured my friends were being mean.  Until my brother came forward with his story.  Come to find out, the clown was being SO creepy, he and my Uncle Frank took to throwing peanuts at him – earning them an escort out of the restaurant.

Happy freaking birthday!  Bingo, I hope you’re rotting in hell for what you did to me.

 

Tell me again why I decided to recreate this???

Oh yeah. Writing ideas.

A Place In The Clouds

For sins of the past
One eternally here
There is only pain
Its end nowhere near

Punishment undeserved
Of one not so wicked
50 years and 50 days
Then hopefully acquitted

When all hope seems lost
For a soul almost seared
An angel of mercy
From the heavens appeared

Surrendering self
There’s only one key
Unconditional love
Will set one free

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/penchant/

Original poem Cara Krzyzanowski 13 September 2017

Inspired by Tim Donahue’s rock opera, ‘The Cage’

Practical Joker

A day late and a dollar short (what exactly does that even mean?), I’m writing this.

It’s funny I ran across this prompt, because just this morning, as I was still peeling my eyelids open (my typo originally said PEEING! Imagine peeing your eyelids open…..), a memory of me torturing my family made me laugh.

You see, I’m a sadistic little shit. I take delight in freaking people out, and/or screwing with them.

A few years ago, before my father passed away, I was sitting at his kitchen table, along with my two brothers, my father, and my daughter. My husband was in the other room watching Star Trek or something.

Everyone was so consumed in conversation, an evil little gremlin snuck into my ear and whispered “Do it“. My face morphed into a smiling Grinch, and I whipped out my cell phone, stealthily hiding it under the table as I continued pretending to listen what everyone was talking about.

My brother had his laptop on the table, and we were listening to funny YouTube videos. But naughty me, I turned on my YouTube app, and pulled up this.

DO NOT LISTEN WITH EARPHONES!!! You’ll lose your mind.

Keep in mind, I have close to 50% hearing loss, and I don’t hear anything until almost the end.  So this doesn’t really bother me.  Especially since I always have ringing and buzzing in my ears (tinnitus, thank you very freaking much!).

But within seconds, my daughter was the first one to literally SPOOK.  Of course she did!  She was sitting directly to my left, completely oblivious as to what I was doing.  Meanwhile, my father, who was on my right, proceeded to jam his little finger in his ear, wiggling it incessantly.

My brothers?  Well, the brother to the left of my daughter cocked his head sideways, looking suspiciously at his laptop, trying desperately to shutdown.  He thought it was about to explode or something.  And my brother across the table from me, killed me with his reaction.  I don’t think there are words to describe it, other than to say his eyeballs bulged, he gasped, and slapped his hands over his ears, saying “WHAT THE F*CK?!?!”  Meanwhile, my husband in the other room shouted “TURN THAT OFF!”.

I still laugh maniacally whenever I think about it.

When we were eating lunch a little bit later, my oldest brother got his revenge while I was drinking coffee, saying “Now that my ears have reset, I can continue normal conversation without having an aneurysm”.

Even though it cost me my phone for the day, everyone’s reactions were absolutely PRICELESS.

I’m so mean.

 

A/N: I may or may not have written about this a long time ago, on an old blog which does not exist anymore.  I couldn’t resist revisiting this memory.