Rosie's Renegade Humor Blog

How Many First Ladies if Romney Wins?

2012-02-05T23:21:00.000Z

"So, there I was on a blind date with a guy from Budapest at Le Bec Fin. There was no window in the ladies room to climb out, so I had to sit there and watch him perform a Fred Flintstone on the cuisse de poulet..." ~ Sitting on Cold Porcelain.

Are you sick of politics and the onslaught of primary fiascos, like the GOP drinking game "Let's Not Tell Rick Perry Where We Are Going Next"? Does it scare you that the only Republican candidate that seems experienced enough for the job is Newt? I still can't bring myself to vote for someone, who is named after a salamander. Somehow, the connotation scares me. Then you have to wonder - how many First Ladies will we have if Romney wins?

Here is an alternative, you can buy my book for $2.99 at Smashwords.com, stay home with a nice beverage, and enjoy yourself. Yes, it is in Kindle, Nook, Sony, eBook formats, as well as PDF and others.

Reading my book is equivalent to watching about 162 standup comedy routines. I have a parrot named Peg Leg Pete, yes he is disabled. He makes an appearance in one essay because he only knows two words "Who Dat?" It came in handy while we were champing at the bit for Super Bowl 44 two years ago, before my husband got all upset during the power outage just before kick-off. Yep, he was so upset that his testicles receded and he was rolling around in front of the powerless entertainment system in pain. Is there a cure for that? Nullo modo!

You will also enjoy the "No, Virginia..." letter that was sent out around Christmas time because Frosty The Inappropriate Snowman was bragging about having a porn collection, rather than remaining in character with a cute button nose and corncob pipe.

Then, we all enjoyed watching Obama bitch-slap Congress during his State of the Union Address and Joe Biden told the press where Cheney's "secret undisclosed location" was because a reporter got him drunk. You know how that goes, "candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker."

Did I sell you yet?

Okay, you've already seen the Numa Numa Guy, right? ("Nu ma, nu ma iei, nu ma, nu ma, nu ma iei"). My friend, Annette Giordano, gets ticked off when she watches The O'Reilly Factor and Bill won't let his guests get a word in, so she gets frustrated and does an Italian Numa Numa Guy in front of the TV, right in his face. She is only one of the weird friends I have.

Then, there is my grandson, who began to learn about life during the Clinton Administration. You remember that media fiasco 24x7. He was doing homework in front of the TV and comes into the kitchen asking us all about protractors, sexual harassment, and oral sex. Yeah, well, he recently managed to CLEP a sex test and found John Edwards on YouTube.

The close
Are you wondering what event made our economy go to the dogs?
It didn't happen overnight. It has taken decades to sink our economic ship.

What was the first leak in the bilge?

Actually, it all started in 1944, when our Democratic President, FDR, sent a Navy destroyer to the Aleutian Islands to pick up his dog, Fala, who promptly peed in the bilge with excitement at a taxpayer cost of $20 million.

Sold?
Click here to order it for $2.99 (less than a gallon of gas) at SMASHWORDS, in all digital formats: Kindle, Nook, eBook, Sony, PDF, etc.

You really don't want to miss reading this book.

As if that isn't enough, I teamed up with Giovanni "G-MAN" Gelati and produced a digital short story for you. It is a face-off in a Philadelphia comedy club titled "Dueling Microphones."

Click here to buy it at The Kindle Store at Amazon for only 99 cents! You will love it!
We are trying to get it into the top 10, so help us out and buy a copy.

Thanks!

Rosie

'Sitting on Cold Porcelain' Addresses Father-Son Potty Training and Vice Versa

2012-01-30T19:24:00.000Z

An excerpt from Sitting on Cold Porcelain (now available at Amazon.com):

"Fluid Mechanics ‘Tally Ho!’ and a Dry Martini"

One cannot study fluid mechanics without giving credit to Cheerios, a popular breakfast cereal. Prize-winning scientists have standardized the terms “cheerio effect” and “cheerio magnetization,” when discussing fluid mechanics. An example of the magnetic phenomenon is the way loose Cheerios seem to attract one another like magnets to form clumps as they cling to the sides of a bowl when immersed in liquid; not as exciting as Mr. Robert Benchley studying the sex lives of polyps, but visible without magnification.

PERSPECTIVE
While Cheerios are good for intake, I have come up with an ingenious idea for a useful expulsion adjunct – “Tally Ho!,” whereby you remove some loose Cheerios from the box and use them as target practice for potty training a young bed wetter. The Cheerios will obligingly clump around the commode.

Now, one could argue that the entertaining sound effect of yellow water hitting the bottom of an empty coffee can also works, but that solves only half the equation. To obtain optimum results for both ways, the principles of fluid mechanics make Cheerios ideal targets.

PROCEDURE
In order to succeed without the use of complex kinematic equations and projectile motion principles, you use the “Tally Ho!” reward principle. It is based on accuracy and the total number of Cheerios that the subject sinks during the experiment:

1. Zero sunken Cheerios – rip out the last page of Baby Einstein “Peek-a-Boo Bard”
2. One or two sunken Cheerios – read “Peek-a-Boo Bard” aloud in its entirety
3. Three to five sunken Cheerios – read aloud Baby Einstein “Things That Go!”
4. More than five sunken Cheerios – report the pipe buster

Your reward for conducting this experiment is a large dry martini.

Theoretically, it should take less than one week for “Tally Ho!”! to serve its useful purpose. Then, you should put the remaining loose Cheerios back in the box and enjoy falling asleep in a bed that is also - dry.
-
HOW TO PROPERLY DRY A MARTINI
As a martini aficionado, perhaps I can shed some light on the fluid dilemma of gin vs. vodka and shaken vs. stirred. Rather than take a poll, I have conducted my own research into the matter and have been satisfactorily inebriated for quite some time.

Shaken vs. stirred is rather moot after you have had five, so we shall focus, if that is possible, on the ingredients:

1. Three ounces of gin, and
2. A dash of white dry vermouth.

Notice that I have ruled out the use of vodka, as it does not modify well with gin; and ice and garnish, as they add nothing useful to the drying process.

There you have it – fluid mechanics, “Tally Ho!” and a dry martini!

A Stimulus for President’s Day

2012-01-15T09:00:00.008Z

By Rose A. Valenta

President’s Day is an annual Federal holiday celebrated on the third Monday of February. It was originally celebrated on February 22nd, President George Washington’s actual birthday. However, in order to include President Abraham Lincoln, who was born on February 12th, the celebration was consolidated to fall in between those two dates and generically called "President's Day."

I'm not sure I like a generic President's Day. The achievements of both American Presidents are legendary, so there is no need to elaborate, but since our current President, Barack Obama, is so fond of signing “stimulus” packages to help off-set our national debt, it would make more sense for us to celebrate both President Lincoln’s and President Washington’s birthdays separately.

He should repeal the consolidated holiday. It would stimulate our economy to have two President’s Day sales in February, and if all applicable Federal agencies, schools, and financial institutions were closed on both February 12th and 22nd, employees and students would be cutting coupons and out spending more money on millions of consumer products. This would be a win-win situation for both shoppers and retailers.

Not only that, but how can we justify an almost hit and miss celebration to pay tribute to the impressive sacrifices and achievements of such honorable men?

With an in-between birthday - Lincoln’s belated?

If they did that to somebody like Ann E. Dunwoody, she’d be pissed and she’s only a four-star general! She wants her NordicTrack ViewPoint™ 3600 right on her special day.

We need American retailers of all bottom lines like Best Buy, BJ’s Wholesale Club, Bloomingdale's, Costco, Brookstones, Fingerhut, Hallmark, JCPenny, Pier 1 Imports, Pep Boys, Saks Fifth Avenue, Sam's Club, and Victoria’s Secret to come together to work, struggle, and convince the powers that be to pull off two President’s Day Sales for the betterment of our economy and to pay tribute to two of our greatest heroes.

In the words of President Barack Obama, “What do you think a stimulus is? It's spending - that's the whole point, seriously!”

Don't forget listen to Ted Williams, the offical voice of New England Cable News. He ain't loafin:

New Year’s Resolution 2012 – Occupy Camp David

2011-12-27T16:05:00.010Z

by Rose A. Valenta

After all the years that I have made a list of New Year’s resolutions for the good of my family, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf. This year, I am making one for our POTUS:

" I will spend all my vacation and holiday time at Camp David"

Camp David

Pictured above is Camp David, the Presidential Retreat that I have been paying for every April 15th, since I joined the American work force. My parents paid for it from 1942 until they died. As you can see, it is a great place for our President to spend holidays and vacations. It is already paid for and its on-going maintenance is covered by 70 years-worth of taxpayer contributions.

The American people understand that being Commander in Chief is a tough job and requires some R&R, but as long as we are faced with a $15 trillion deficit that won’t get paid off until the second coming, it is only fair that the POTUS develop a frugal job description that includes spending vacation time at a resort designed for the purpose. After all, when a soldier takes liberty he pays for the entertainment out-of-pocket. This is not too much of a sacrifice considering that the President will only have to spend off-hours at Camp David for four or eight years. After the POTUS is out of office, he/she can take the family on exotic personally funded vacations, instead of the extravagant vacations that are currently being taken and straining the American people’s budget.

Nobody gets a free ride in this economy, not even “Head of Household.”

Just who is in charge of T&E Expense Management at the White House?

You can see where this is headed, right? I am not turning over a new leaf, except for my vote in November. I will continue to shop at places like Sam’s Club, Wal-Mart, and Costco; as I am already doing a good job economically. My family vacation will remain at Homestead Park or the Jersey Shore. My vehicles will continue to be certified pre-leased. My President better wise up.

In the famous words of President Franklin D. Roosevelt “I am neither bitter nor cynical but I do wish there was less immaturity in political thinking."

Happy New Year!

Rosie

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Election 2012: Just Give Us the 'Slug Report' on Congress

2011-12-04T09:02:00.000Z

by Rose A. Valenta

Tighten up those pubococcygeus muscles, here we go again. Two phrases you will have nightmares about before the next election “Make no mistake” and let’s “Come together” to do something or other. Every time I hear “Come together”(common political rhetoric) it reminds me of an audience of taxpayers sitting there smiling and doing kegel exercises because that’s the only way they are all going to smile and say “YES!” together.

Obama is trying to raise $1 billion for his political campaign. I have to ask myself, why? After all, he keeps telling us to be frugal. Doesn’t he realize that a campaign plan for only $1 million would get him more votes than a $1 billion spending spree?

When you are already at the summit, Mr. President, why do you need to buy more mountain climbing equipment?

You could start with a fireside chat on YouTube announcing that since you are already the incumbent President, you don't really have to spend $1 billion for political exposure. We know you're there, we know you want it - now spare us the $999 million.

The only competition from the Republicans will be Newt and I just can't see the justification in spending a billion dollars to keep a salamander out of the White House.

The way I see it, Mr. President, bi-weekly fireside chats with status updates on all the work that has actually been accomplished on Capitol Hill is what’s needed. You know, a nice warm fire; you; Bo, the Portuguese Water Dog; and a Sony Bloggie to record the cozy conversation on YouTube. Some weeks you can give us the “Slug Report” on Congress, other weeks actual progress.

This is the “change” we have been waiting for - a frugal political campaign.

$1 billion dollars, Mr. President? Have you ever considered therapy for your compulsive spending addiction?

Operation Black and Blue Friday

2011-11-30T02:53:00.005Z

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for body armor

It was a glorious Thanksgiving. After an eleven-minute dinner, the guests were ushered out the door with a to-go-box and “Have a safe trip!” I had Buck Fever. The adrenaline was pumping. It was time to assemble my gear. Orthopedic arch inserts? Check. Water bottle? Check. Credit cards cleaned and oiled for quick sliding? Check. Chocolate M&M pretzels? Check. Cell phone charged. Check. Angry Birds loaded onto the ten teen’s I Pod? Check and double-check. I was ready to spend bucks to save bucks.

The object of my Black Friday hunt? A new trampoline with enclosure and padding. As Confucius, ancient Chinese philosopher and Businessman and the originator of the “Own America” campagine, once said “He who makes net and padding wear out same time as trampoline, only sell once.” Or as his cousin Wing-a-Ding-Wan-Yo-Money Trump put it “Wise man make cheaper to buy two than to buy one even if one is all you need”.

Having previously scouted out Wal-Mart, I knew the number of trampoline boxes available (48), where they were located (garden center patio), and time I could load (10 p.m.). To secure the most advantageous spot, I needed to in position by 7 p.m., three hours before the season opened. Done, Done, and Double Done!

7:11 PM: There is only myself and two other people standing by the pile of trampolines. I strategically place myself and my basket near a support post and the end stack of trampolines. A small crowd of three or four adults have gathered in the corner where about twenty 12 volt white convertible Barbie type cars are stacked two deep and three high. I pull out Angry Birds. Low battery. I begin to crowd watch and eves drop.

7:35 PM: I become friends with a young man who’s I.D. tag says “Event Staff”. He seems fit and healthy and capable of loading a 200 pound trampoline in my buggy. I’ll recruit him for later.

8:30 PM: The crowd is increasing, notably the group milling around the 12 volt Barbie type cars and a new group around the Play Tyme Custom Kitchens just behind me. Strategies being planned. “Now be ready to go into action the minute it’s 10:00. People will push, shove, and bite but hang in there, stand your ground. Use your cell phone for backup but only if you are losing the battle.” I thought it was a security guard behind me talking on his walkie talkie but it was some Mom instructing her teenage daughter, a Black Friday novice. Several security guards are making a line of defense in front of the outside exit doors. The S.W.A.T team has arrived complete with flak jackets, walkie talkies on each hip and enough battery packs to power four mini TV’s. This is going to be big.

8:55 PM: The hairs on the back of my neck are tingling. The crowd is larger and shopping carts have been circled in a defensive formation around the Barbie cars and Custom Kitchens against late comers. I half expect to see Geronimo and his warriors come through the doors.

9:05 PM: My M&M’s are gone and half of my water. The crowd is shifting around restlessly. Some of the late comers are sporting intimidating t-shirts. One says “P_ss, Puke, Blood, Guts”. I don’t know if he is referring to shoppers who stood in his way in the past or if this is an indication that the turkey and potato salad had been left out too long earlier in the day.

There is enough cell phone action going on that I’m surprised Verizon isn’t saying “I can hear everybody now.” “Bravo One to Bravo Two. We have 12 volt convertible in range. Scanning the bar code now. Yes this is the best price. We have flanked the target on both sides. Over and out.”

9:25 PM: There are NO security guards in sight but several Alabama line backers have arrived to secure a Kiddie Custom Kitchen. I’m sure they will get one. There are now 20 Barbie type cars and 60 car-wanters… who can also count. I am digging in. This could get ugly and I don’t mean just the view of my backside squashed between the narrow space between a six inch support pole and a wall of trampoline boxes.

9:59 PM: 5-4-3-2-1 START SHOPPING! I unsquash myself from behind the pole and fling my arms on top of my trampoline box. Some Granny next to me is jamming my shopping cart into my ribs as she wrestles her trampoline into her cart. No pain, no trampoline. An altercation is erupting in the Barbie car lot as I suspected. The Incredible Hulk is emerging from the car lot, probably due to the stress, and has two white 12 volt convertible boxes held high over his head. I can only assume he is divorced, has twin daughters visiting for Christmas, and this is the only thing they wanted. The SWAT team arrives, from somewhere, and handles the situation.

Within five minutes the garden center looks like a hurricane has blown in and swept the area clean. There is nothing left but three bicycles and me wrapped around my trampoline box. I hope my recruit shows up soon.

10:31 PM: Target is acquired and secure in the back of my truck.

10:32 PM: Replenished M&Ms and back in line for the three-in-one printers ready to go on sale at 12:01.

God bless free enterprise! Over and out!
~~~

I hope you enjoyed this guest post today by my friend, Jody Worsham. She adopted two children while in her 60s and has a humorous perspective on parenting. Please visit her website The Medicare Mom at the link below:

“When I found myself in the role of parent at age 61 to a one day old and a three year old, I began writing humor; actually I began living humor. This age and stage has given me a different perspective on car seats, potty training, homework, and the golden arches. Oh, and let’s not forget the fun and fumbles of parenting-past-your-prime which has resulted in The Medicare Mom - http://themedicaremom.blogspot.com ” ~ Jody Worsham

When Santa Had to See a Man About a Reindeer

2011-11-25T07:16:00.009Z

by Rose A. Valenta

For as long as I can remember, Black Friday and Cyber Monday never meant Jack Schitt in my house. Those are the days everyone in my family stays away from the shopping Malls, clogged traffic arteries, and shopping cart demolition derbys. The only exception being our teenagers, who like to hang out at the food courts, eating pizza, and watching all the viral shoppers knock each other over like yulefest Weebles to save a yuletide dollar.

Occasionally, the kids report back to the house with their iPods that someone took a header out in the parking lot; some sweet little old lady whacked a kid with a candy cane because she thought he was memorizing her PIN number, so he could treat himself to another beef jerky; someone was seen limping around Starbucks, like a Dallas Cheerleader; or somone just got pepper-sprayed in the long sale line by a frustrated shopper.

Additionally, nobody ever said that after hundreds of servings of milk and cookies, Kris Kringle wouldn’t have to tinkle. However, according to this Reuters photographer at a shopping mall in Hamburg, Germany, who wanted to preserve the moment for posterity, Santa had to see a man about a reindeer and he didn't appreciate the Tabloid paparazzi!

Santa was pissed!

No one knows if the photographer was shooting for a new line of American Greetings, a Coca-Cola commercial, or was developing a new and improved 'Twas the Beer Before Christmas clip for YouTube, but he made Santa’s naughty list and will not be getting that expensive Canon EF 800 f/5.6 IS USM Super Telephoto Lens that he wants for Christmas.

Santa angrily ajusted his zipper and pointed out that his sleigh broke down during a pre-Black Friday holiday dry run and a Coca-Cola 18 wheeler rescued him and the reindeer over Hamburg, They drank a lot of Coke, and if the photographer was doing his homework he would have spotted Rudolph and Comet doing the same thing over by the old Elm tree just outside the Mall.

"That's not going to win you the Deeper Perspective Photographer of The Year Award, son," Santa said. Then, laying his finger aside of his nose, he added, “You don’t want to mess with Santa!”

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Thanksgiving Plans - Remember the Titanic!

2011-11-20T08:05:00.004Z

by Rose A. Valenta

“Seize the moment, remember all those women on the ‘Titanic,’ who waved off the dessert cart.” ~ Erma Bombeck.

Thanksgiving is fast approaching and everyone is frantically making plans. Although, it has been my experience that the best made plans often end up like the Titanic, seat a few icebergs at the dinner table and you're sunk.

Those who are hosting are worried about seating arrangements and folks, who get along; as opposed to those you need to take sharp instruments away from when they sit next to each other like Uncles Harry and Dick.

Others are planning to bring side dishes, which reminds me of the famous Forrest Gump quote “Life is like a box of chocolates...”

“Hey Rose, are you keeping an eye on the weather forecast?” my husband asked. “You can’t make Harry sleep out in the barn in a sleeping bag unless you let him have the kerosene heater. Then, if you do that, you have to get one of the kids to go out there and clear out the debris. I think paint balls, hay, and boardwalk souvenirs are flammable.”

“Why don’t you do that,” I answered. “They will listen to you. If I ask them, they will pile it all in one of the spots that leak when it rains. Empty bucket and pot locations are not clues to them. Besides, I’m busy trying to figure out my Grandma Chappell’s pumpkin pie recipe. She left out an ingredient on the list, gave it to me, and then she died.”

“OK, men, hit the deck and put on some old clothes, we are going out to the barn for some exercise.” He said to our 14 and 11-year-old grandsons, who were spending the week with us, while their parents went to Atlantic City trying to hit the tuition to send them to Harvard.

My husband has been a gung-ho Marine his whole life and has a few choice expressions that he learned in boot camp. He yells some of them to keep the kids in line. He cussed and they all went out to the barn.

I found myself alone in the kitchen looking at an 8x10 photo of Grandma Chappell over the spice rack, in a white apron, holding a large blue medal cake, appearing to laugh at my predicament.

I remembered those summers that I spent in Olean, NY, with her when I was very young and she was the head baker at the Olean House. Her high-rise cakes were known and enjoyed in practically every county in the State of New York and Pennsylvania. People traveled for miles to get her desserts. I haven’t seen anything like that again, since they closed Olga’s diner on Route 73 in NJ. At Olga’s, it was the lemon meringue pies that caused the pilgrimage; at the Olean House, it was her orange bundt cakes with orange glaze icing.

The first time I ever experienced an excruciating blow to my ego, was when she stood me on a chair in her kitchen, with an electric mixer, flour, eggs, vanilla extract, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and some other ingredients and watched me like a hawk while she dictated the recipe and method of creating one of her famous orange cakes. She had the scientific process down to the number of times each ingredient was even touched by human hands, let alone the number of turns in the mixer.

After all that, when the cake came out of the oven, it would have made a great paper weight advertisement for Steve’s Oversized Crullers over on Route 17.

She never forgave me for that one. She was on the telephone all morning bragging to her friends about how I was making the orange cake, under her supervision, for their afternoon tea.

Me and my bruised ego helped her serve store-bought cookies.

I think that’s why she left out an ingredient in the pumpkin pie recipe, just to get even.

So, now with Thanksgiving less than a week away, I Googled all the pumpkin pie recipes and compared them to the one she gave me.

I still couldn’t figure it out, so I seized the moment, dialed our local bakery and ordered two pumpkin pies and a mincemeat. I can hide the empty bakery boxes alongside Uncle Harry out in the barn, before guests arrive.

I’m sure everyone will be smiling, except for the turkey!

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

The Part That Goes Over the Fence Last

2011-11-17T18:52:00.010Z

by Rose A. Valenta

All of us have fond memories of Thanksgiving get togethers with family and friends. It’s just like the old days, when we watched “Walton’s Mountain.” People that we have not seen in a year or more come over with an overnight bag and a side dish; then, we all sit around, eat, talk, bicker, bring up all the reasons we only see each other once-a-year; and actually fight over the Pope’s nose "Naso del Papa," also known as “The part that goes over the fence last.” I'm not sure if there is such a thing as a Vatican dispensation for calling it the Pope's nose. I never broached the subject in a confessional. Why spoil everyone's fun?

Murphy's law kicks in, and someone forgets to add the egg to the pumpkin pie mixture and it turns out runny. We drink the recipe (in our case a keg of beer in the garage), a fight breaks out, the Yorkie takes off with grandma's dentures in its mouth, one of grandpa’s suspenders ends up dangling off the piano, somebody screams in the bathroom about sitting on cold porcelain, and Uncles Harry and Dick are still arguing about whether Canadians eat Bald Eagle, rather than turkey, for Thanksgiving; on a tip from Canadian humorist Gordon Kirkland, who originated the idea. This is a typical American traditional Thanksgiving party (and everyone worries about whether or not the kids will behave).

This year, in preparation for the annual holiday fiasco, Uncle Harry Googled all the Canadian web sites trying to find Bald Eagle recipes. “Their Thanksgiving is in October” he said. “If it’s out there, I’ll show him!” he bellowed.

Another interesting tid-bit to add more fuel to the fire, the Enrique Iglesia half-time performance during the Miami vs. Dallas Thanksgiving Day football game. I can just see Uncle Dick in his Dolphins Mascot hat, munching on a left-over wing, singing "I Like It," while pouring himself and mascot "Flipper" a beer.

I was looking over Uncle Harry's shoulder online and found something of interest that I’d like to share, a video that shows how to pick out a tender turkey.

Watch yourself at the Mall.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Did the First Turducken Happen in Mid-Air?

2011-11-11T11:11:00.004Z

by Rose A. Valenta

“Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence." ~ Erma Bombeck

How do you actually plan for a fiasco? I asked myself after putting a bicycle lock on the can of whipping cream in the refrigerator. The adults misbehave at Thanksgiving worse than the kids. Uncles Harry and Dick have never quite grown up, thanks to the enablers, who keep inviting them over for dinner. I pondered their next move.

Last year, Thanksgiving dinner got off to a good start. Just before dinner, my son-in-law hit his head on an heirloom sconce in the dining room; it crashed, sending about a thousand tiny glass slivers all over the floor. This was even before beer and wine were served.

Plates and glasses were snatched off the set table and rewashed as a just-in-case maneuver. Luckily, the buffet was safely in the next room. Condiments were moved closer to the Infant of Prague statue and prayed over, while salt was thrown over about a dozen shoulders.

At prayer time, our 6-year-old pagan, Missy, was sucking her thumb and screaming expletives that she had learned from her older brother during an Xbox game. We used duct tape and offered a prayer to Billy Mays.

We had ham and turkey, and a wide variety of side dishes. Since our family is diverse, the sides ranged from carrot raisin casserole to arroz rojo to pot stickers. Everybody avoided cousin Kim's Kung Pao gizzards.

After beer was served, Uncles Harry and Dick got into a heated argument over the White House Christmas tree. Harry swore that it would be a Kwanzaa tree with seven branches, while Dick said that was unconstitutional, unless they also added a Menorah and Nativity scene. They also fought over whether or not the very first turducken happened in mid-air. Every year, they pick something ridiculous to fight about.

By dessert time, Harry had already spritzed whipping cream on Dick’s nose. Hoping the family dog, Spuds, would attack him. Spuds maintained his cool, drooled over the cheerleaders on the TV, then looked at Dick’s nostrils and groaned. In his youth, Dick used to look like Jimmy Durante; now that he is older, and certain body parts are succumbing to gravity, he closely resembles a Proboscis monkey.

I already had Harry’s sleeping bag out in the barn with the kerosene heater. I was leaving nothing to chance.

The men went into the family room to watch football, teenagers were champing at the bit to go to the mall on Black Friday, little ones sat playing Penguins and Facebook games on several notebook PCs, Frack was on his 25th rendition of "I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas" on the Nintendo guitar, and the rest of us sat around the dining room table gossiping. We finally agreed that the first turducken actually happened in mid-air over Plymouth Rock.

My eyes were as glazed over as our left-over ham by 11:00 pm, so I excused myself and went upstairs; leaving my husband to entertain our overnight guests. About five minutes later, he snuck upstairs and accused me of abandoning ship.

“Football doesn’t turn me on,” I said. “Besides, look at the bright side, your mundane life would suck without overnight house guests trying to come up with a great theme song for the NY Giants.”

I am so not looking forward to another family fiasco!

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Being Laid Off Blows

2011-10-27T16:11:00.000+01:00

by Rose A. Valenta

I was looking for something to read the other day and the following summary of "The Bridges of Madison County" appeared on a film-oriented web site. However, if you are a laid-off, career-oriented, "A" personality like myself, I would not recommend that you read the book:

"The path of Francesca Johnson's future seems destined when an unexpected fork in the road causes her to question everything she had come to expect from life.

While her husband and children are away at the Illinois state fair in the Summer of 1965, Robert Kincaid happens upon the Johnson farm and asks Francesca for directions to Rosamunde Bridge. He explains that he is on assignment from National Geographic magazine to photograph the bridges of Madison County. She agrees to show him to the bridges and thus begins the bittersweet and all-too-brief romance of her life.

Through the pain of separation from her secret love and the stark isolation she feels as the details of her life consume her, she writes down the story of this four-day love affair in a 3-volume diary. The diary is found by her children among her possessions and alongside Robert Kincaid's possessions after Francesca is dead.

The message they take from the diaries is one of hope that they will do what is necessary to find happiness in their lives -- whatever is necessary. After learning that Robert Kincaid's cremated remains were scattered off Rosamunde Bridge and that their mother requested a similar disposition for her own ashes, the children must decide whether to honor their mother's final wishes or bury her alongside their father as the family had planned.

Adapted from the novel by Robert Waller, this is the story of love that happens just once in a lifetime -- if you're lucky."

Why not read it, you ask?

I hate to tell you, but this story reminds me of a silent film Concertino for Violin. If you are an A-type working mom or dad, you will never figure out how a four-day fling can turn into a life-long tear jerker.

If you want to read about boredom, imagine yourself as a stay-at-home mom or dad of several children living in a place like Madison County. After about one week of unemployment, while the kids are in school, you will put on your kid's Y-Gen jeans, just for the hell of it, to see what your butt crack looks like in broad daylight; put the baseball cap on backwards; hang a Dora doll with a slip-knot off the banister before running the vacuum cleaner; then, you will get out the baseball bat and beat the crap out of a cabbage patch doll, which will someday cost you a VAT Tax at Toys ‘R US.

If you are a sheer genius, you will understand that any strange guy in a pickup truck, like the one in Madison County, who rings your door bell to ask for directions is probably also in the sex offender database and has been casing your property for the last three months; plus isn't "Rosamunde" something Houdini was supposed to say if he ever came back from the dead? Obviously, this guy is going to eat and run, and steal a six-pack, so you would never even let him in the house.

Another thing to watch out for are encyclopedia salesmen, telephone solicitors, and motivational speakers, who try to suck you into MLM plans. Somehow, these people get your e-mail address from the unemployment office and do a great job trying to get your $29.95 to "cold call" on your friends and family. You end up not only being unemployed, but your whole family hates you and your friends think you are just another Ponzi schemer.

So, what should you do with your spare time?

Turn your basement into a microbrewery. This way, you can enjoy what you do and sell a good product to your friends and family. You can also make your new business eco-friendly, by having your customers come over with a refillable jug, reusable bottle, or other reusable container to transport the beer - just like the old days after prohibition and before the stock market crash.

You can also go into the kids' computer room and give the Numa Numa Guy a run for his money on YouTube; write jokes for Jay Leno; or you can do standup comedy. For instance, just the other day, I was standing outside Starbucks selling #2 pencils to pay the electric bill, when Jay Leno decides to go Jaywalking. He comes up to me with a mic and asks "Who wrote 'Who Moved my Cheese?" I stood there for a few seconds, dumbfounded look on my face, and the most logical answer I could think of was "Chaz Bono?"

It gets better, watch:

The book is available online at Smashwords.com

The Domino Effect

2011-09-11T04:24:00.000+01:00

by Rose A. Valenta

My husband’s birthday dinner was destined to turn out like the maiden voyage of the Titanic. The dysfunction and icebergs being our two young grandsons vs. our daughter Sally’s in-laws, Dwight and Margaret Stern, a surly couple equipped with the combined personalities of flat soufflés.

Margaret is a retired country club groupie, who once thought Bernard Madoff was the sexiest thing since Aristotle Onasis, and Dwight used to stuff shirts for a living. They met at a charity play – a match spawned from a remake of “Les Miserables.” I found all this out a few months ago, after they drank too much champagne at Sally and Mel’s wedding and dumped on me. It was better than a Joe Biden Gaffe. Now, they stick with non-alcoholic cantaloupe horchatas. They should drink more alcohol.

Our other guests include Sally’s husband and our Son-in-Law, Mel; our 12 and 14-year-old grandsons, Glenn and Earl, whom we call Loaf and Domino because they are lazy and always into mischief; my husband’s best friend, Vince Lubelli, who is divorced and unemployed with an IQ low enough to make Ripley’s; and my sister, Berni, who is 50 years old, single, and still dates college guys.

Our oldest daughter is away. We are babysitting our grandsons and have no choice in the matter, we’re stuck with them for dinner. I quickly determined where to hide the mashed potatoes, so they can’t have a food fight and play “zit” in front of the Sterns. My husband and I were uneasy about inviting them, but Sally had called earlier and insisted.

“Mom, can you invite Mel’s parents over for dinner on Dad’s birthday?”

“Are you nuts?” I asked. “The Domino Effect, Vince ‘The Zoner,’ and your Aunt Berni ‘The Cougar,’ will be here.”

“It’s Okay,” she said. “I’ll keep the boys occupied with Xbox games. Margaret and Dwight are in town and it would be impolite to leave them alone at our house, while we come over and party. Just make sure Aunt Berni doesn’t bring her latest Nick Jonas look-alike; and ask Dad not to torment Vince with his usual Jay Walking game. I was really embarrassed the last time Dad grabbed the salt shaker and put it in Vince's face asking 'Who wrote War and Peace?' and Vince said 'Alexander Portnoy?"

“I don’t know,” I said. “Remember the last time we all had dinner together and Loaf kept pelting Margaret with Spanish olives? The boys swing from trees at the mall. Your sister never trained them for anything civilized. When they play Xbox, they use all seven words that have been banned on TV."

“Mom, I promise to keep them calm and occupied.”

“Okay,” I said. “This I have to see.”

“Thanks, you’re a gem.”

“You’re welcome," I said. “The disclaimer will be hanging off the front door."

We decided to serve dinner buffet-style, even though we are a small group, so that we could keep the Sterns at a safe distance from Loaf and Domino, who never mastered social skills or how to put the toilet seat down.

“Five dollars says one of the Sterns will end up sitting on cold porcelain in the bathroom before the night is over,” I yelled out to my husband, who was outside trying to blow the dust balls off the candlesticks. He finally resorted to using the potato peeler.

“You win,” my husband laughed.

Well, he should have just handed me the five dollars, as half-way through dinner we could hear Margaret’s loud screams in the bathroom drowning out the entertainment system, which was blasting Domino's favorite Steelheart recording, “Love Ain’t Easy.” Margaret actually prefers Luciano Pavarotti's "A Te, O Cara" from I Puritani.

I gave her a towel, two aspirin, and a doggie bag. Dwight assured us that they would call me in the morning. I gave him a double martini with 6 olives.

Rosie Almost Does Standup

2011-09-01T10:09:00.001+01:00

I’ve had a busy summer. I was elected to the Board of Directors of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC) on June 26th at the “Rebound in Motown” Conference in Detroit. Many thanks to members of the NSNC for their support.

I’m asking all of my writer friends to join the NSNC via its website http://www.columnists.com. We are embarking on an exciting year. The organization is open to authors, freelance columnists (newspapers and magazines) and bloggers. Membership will benefit your writing career.

Recently, I teamed up with Giovanni "G-MAN" Gelati of BlogTalkRadio and produced a digital short story for you. It is a face-off in a fictitious Philadelphia comedy club titled "Dueling Microphones." He will be interviewing several NSNC members during the next few months about their new books in the GZONE.

We had a great time writing "Dueling Microphones" and promoting it on all the social networking sites, and I will be performing one of the sets live at The Helium Comedy Club, 2031 Sansom St., Philadelphia soon. It would have been last Saturday, but Irene upstaged my act. I will have something up on YouTube for you.

This week, I am one of the guest comedians at Stupidassquestions for 5 days. You can log on to the website and ask any stupid ass question you like, 24x7. Someone will give you a stupid ass answer.

Click here to buy a copy of “Dueling Microphones” at The Amazon Kindle Store for only 99 cents! You will love it!

We are trying to get it into the top 10, so help us out and buy a copy.

As if that isn’t enough, I just finished a sketch comedy writing class with Brian Kelly at the Philadelphia Improv Theatre (PHIT). If my family doesn’t disown me for being the brunt of a parody or two - like Uncle Harry the hoarder, who also has a foot fetish and keeps a pair of red stilettos on his night stand, I will bring a few sketches to the Shubin Theatre on a Friday night this Fall. Show times are every Friday night at 11:00 pm.

Workaholic, moi?

As always, you can pick up a copy of “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” at SMASHWORDS for only $2.99 (less than a gallon of gas), in all digital formats: Kindle, Nook, eBook, Sony, PDF, etc.

Thanks!
Rosie

Hurricane Irene Slams East Coast

2011-08-28T17:02:00.006+01:00

"... and so, instead of heffalumps and woozles, the blustery day turned into a blustery night." ~ Winnie the Pooh

The news channel was reporting a nightmare. Aerial images of Hurricane Irene looked like the sky in the film “Independence Day.” I was babysitting with the grandchildren. They were scared, so I turned off the TV for a while. There were several emergency trips to the bathroom. Yellow journalists from as far away as Seattle, were taking pictures of downed trees in Hoboken, NJ.

I spotted a family of ducks running for their lives:

Storm damage in Central Park amounted to a pile of pine nuts and fallen cones:

Each of our vehicles was equipped with a window punch, batteries, flashlight, cases of bottled water, and giant boxes of Cheerios from Sam’s Club in case of a flash flood. The Jiffy peanut butter took the back seat.

All the airports and public transportation were closed.

I said a quick prayer to St. Anthony of Padua; I hadn’t been able to find my dentures for two days. I finally found them in the fish aquarium. No, the lights were not out; in my haste, I missed the cup.

The Angel fish were getting high on Fixodent. They were performing more aerial maneuvers than Asian carp. I was nervous as a cat, but not strung out like a chihuahua yet, and the kids were terrorized.

I didn’t know what else to do, we watched “Charlie Bit My Finger” 25 times on YouTube already, so I made up a Pooh story. I didn’t end the story. I told the kids we would do that in the morning. I was considering three endings. One of them involved Noah’s Ark, another how Piglet forgot to waterproof the house; finally, the blustery day.

This morning, I logged on to Facebook to find out if my friends were still alive. They are!

The kids are eating omelets, “Charlie Bit My Finger” is playing on the PC, and “Baby Monkey Riding Backwards on a Pig” is our family theme song of the day.

Go Phillies!

2011-07-24T13:04:00.009+01:00

by Rose A. Valenta

While the Philadelphia Phillies prepare to beat the San Diego Padres, they reactivated former closer Brad Lidge. He has not pitched due to elbow and shoulder injuries. Lidge is the reason the Phillies won the 2008 World Series.

To paraphrase Maurice Chevalier, "Oh yes, I remember it well."

It took 28 years for the Phillies to take the World Series Championship; they did it with a 4-3 win over the Tampa Bay Rays on October 29, 2008.

South Philadelphia fans went nuts as Brad Lidge and the Phillies took out the Rays in a three-inning game, which had been suspended due to weather conditions. It is the first victory since 1980 for the Phillies and the end of the alleged Billy Penn curse.

The Billy Penn curse affected all of the major Philadelphia sports teams since the construction of the One Liberty Place skyscraper that had the audacity to tower over Billy’s head atop City Hall. It was built in 1987. From 1987 to 2008, no Philadelphia sports team won a major league victory. Then in 2007, Comcast decided to put a Billy Penn statue atop the Comcast Center, the tallest building in the city. Billy liked that.

When the Phillies won in 2008, it ended the curse.

Tens of thousands of fans were celebrating in the streets, as South Broad Street was closed to traffic all evening. Seventy six arrests later, Police Commissioner, Charles H. Ramsey, was overheard saying "I got a touch of a hangover, don't push me," in response to a fan yelling "Where's the whiskey Mr. Macklin?"

Mrs. Giordano took off her usual black mourning attire for the occasion and wore a long red dress by Target. She was so excited over at Mama Mia's that she took the "evil eye" off of the Ray's Evan Longoria free of charge. Philly cheese steaks were on the house.

"Hey Vito, looka Joey! He looka just like that guy, Spencer Tracy, alone ina his boat," she said, refering to her favorite Tracy film "The Old Man and The Sea."

Vito Salerno took pity on Joey Maddon after he found out that the Rays got thrown out of their hotel after the last game was postponed and they had to find accommodations at a stable in Wilmington, Delaware. The fans had everything else booked within a 100-mile radius.

Vito bought Joey a few boiler makers, broke out his Castiglione, and sang "O Solo Mio."

Mayor Nutter was telling fans, who were planning to call out sick from work, to wait until Friday. The World Series Parade began at noon on Friday, at 20th and Market Sts. and ended back at the Sports Complex.

"You can be joyous, but you can't be a jackass," he told news reporters. I think he was referring to media behavior at the parade, especially pinhead Bill O’Reilly, who doesn’t know Jack Schitt about the legal system or baseball.

GO PHILLIES!!!!!

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Nikita Khrushchev's Great-Grandmother?

2011-07-20T23:20:00.006+01:00

I didn't get a chance to ask Joe McNally of National Geographic if he took this photo in Moscow, but now scientists are convinced that all of us have some Neandrathal DNA. If I'm not mistaken, Nikita had a woolie fetish and was obsessed with shoes and wrestling.

Now I know why we humans have such a tough time supressing our primal urges, like throwing the TV remote control out of a 10 story building in a single bound and sympathizing with Black Eyed Peas. It also explains loud snoring, culinary oddities like eating undercooked steak and eggs, and hanging out in sushi bars.

Read the article Click here

I won't even go into fast cars, contact sports and Olympic Games, Okay? I have enough trouble understanding Bruno Mars music.

When was the last time your husband mimed "Get me a beer" with a mouth full of buffalo chicken, while you cupped your ear "ey?" and grunted, right?

Now we know!

A Salute to the Average!!

2011-07-09T00:07:00.000+01:00

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for average t-shirt franchise

Somewhere along the way “Average” has become an adjective that applies to everyone else. Parents are screaming about testing, obviously inaccurate, that shows that their child is average. I have adopted the position that being average makes my child stand out from the crowd.

Think about it. In ballet class, every parent thinks their ballerina is superior, above average. My child is an average dancer, the only one it seems, so when the recital comes around, the entire superior above average dancers will be crowded onto the stage all dancing together and being compared to each other. My average dancer will be dancing a solo, since there are no other average dancers at the studio. There will be no one to compare her to; therefore, she will dance beautifully with no discernable mistakes and receive a standing ovation.

Then there are those SAT test scores. My child is average and will score that way on the SAT test. Because of this, others will look much smarter and more intelligent than they really are. In fact, the worse my child scores on the test, the better others will look. I can foresee desperate parents recruiting average students to enroll in classes designed to help them dumb-down before the tests in order to tilt their child’s scores upward. However, because my child is just “average”, she may qualify for all kinds of grants and incentives to help colleges and universities look like they are non-discriminatory and serving the needs of the average person as well as the super elite.

Being average can also keep you from being clobbered in dodge ball in required P.E. classes. Far superior athletes will be chosen first. The average will be chosen in the middle and the poorly skilled will be chosen last. During the game, the far superior athletes will go after the poorest players first. The average person, hiding in the corner, will be pretty much ignored until the end. By that time the far superior athletes will have worn themselves out pulverizing the easy targets and will lose their steam when it comes to attacking the average. The average players will take advantage of the situation and will triumph. Having defeated the top far superior athletes, the average will come to the attention of professional dodge ball coaches who are recruiting.

The Olympic coaches will then rethink the average child’s abilities and increase their interest. The professional recruiters will then become more aggressive and will up their offers. Once your child accepts, signs the five year no-cut contract, and is shuffled off to training camp, you can relax. Soon the coaches will discover that your child really is average and will be benched, safe from being pulverized by other powerful dodge ball athletes…but the no-cut contract is binding. The money keeps coming in and average wins again.

With the income, your child can open an Average Store. T shirts could sport logos that say “Robbers, don’t bother. All credit, no cash”, or “Jenny Craig, Go Away, My weight is Average”. The IRS would ignore your child’s business, because, after all, it’s just average. It’s a win win situation.

So the next time your friends begin bragging about their super superior children, just smile and say “No need to thank me; if it wasn’t for my child, yours would just be average. Want a t-shirt?”
~~~
I hope you enjoyed this guest post today by my friend, Jody Worsham. She adopted two children while in her 60s and has a humorous perspective on parenting. Please visit her website The Medicare Mom at the link below:

“When I found myself in the role of parent at age 61 to a one day old and a three year old, I began writing humor; actually I began living humor. This age and stage has given me a different perspective on car seats, potty training, homework, and the golden arches. Oh, and let’s not forget the fun and fumbles of parenting-past-your-prime which has resulted in The Medicare Mom - http://themedicaremom.blogspot.com ” ~ Jody Worsham

July Fourth Weekend: Freedom From Stress

2011-07-01T05:09:00.007+01:00

Why would anyone want to get into this mess on their day off?

News stories are cropping up all over the Internet about the fluxuation in the price of gasoline and how people are scaling back on trips and vacations for economic reasons. This weekend thousands of folks will be hitting the shore thinking that they have economized by not going to some exotic place like Hawaii or Aruba.

Why go anywhere?

Maybe it was my upbringing or being married to a Philadelphia Policeman for 20 years, who usually had to work on holidays, but I have gotten rather used to avoiding mob scenes and traffic as much as possible. Finances have very little to do with that. I even go to the supermarket during off-peak hours, who needs the lines and the stress? I can buy hot dog and hamburger buns more efficiently at 10:00 PM and there will only be one person ahead of me at check out.

Every day, I travel to the office for an hour in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I have a whole audio book collection to relieve the stress. Public radio doesn’t broadcast the good shows like Garrison Keillor, Car Talk, and You Bet Your Garden during rush hour, shame on them. So, I pop in an audio book and listen to great American history novels like “Having Our Say: The Delany Sisters’ First 100 Years,” or the entire Earth’s Children Series in 21 days and enjoy myself.

One day, I was laughing so hard at a remark Bessie Delany said about some smelly drunken white guy (my sentiments exactly), that tears were rolling down my face as I paid the toll on the Turnpike.

“You Okay today?” the guy asked.

“Yeah, I’m glad I’m not riding Bessie's train,” I answered.

He laughed and looked at me over the top of his trifocales (cash, cars, and 18-wheelers) checking my pupils and the back seat for drugs.

Another day, I was listening to motivational speaker, Loretta LaRoche’s “Lighten Up,” where she tells people to chill and feel juicy.

“How are you today?” the same toll taker asked.

“I feel juicy!” I responded.

A few minutes later, not being quite sure if my remark could be misconstrued as sexual harassment, I glanced in my rear-view mirror checking for troopers.

When my husband was on active duty, we usually celebrated holidays on his days off. Our schedule was far from normal. Sometimes, we celebrated July 4th on the 9th, Labor Day the weekend after, but every four years, we managed to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas when everyone else did. People wondered why I would cook a turkey on the Saturday following the holiday.

“Are you Jehovah’s Witness?”

“Didn’t you get enough last week?” they would ask.

Long story short, I rather liked missing all the holiday traffic and crowds; my husband’s dangerous job had its perks after all.

Many people don't understand this because most women don't send their husband off to work with a brief case full of directives, handcuffs, and a .38 caliber handgun; hoping he doesn't end up in the ER before dinner is ready and the smoke detector sets off the fire alarm.

This weekend, even though my husband is no longer on active duty, we decided to stay home, rest, and watch TV. He always likes to put the traffic report on and say a prayer of thanks that we are not in the middle of the mess trying to remain calm with St. Joseph's Wort, Snapple, and an audio edition of Dave Barry. It is sort of our way of celebrating the Declaration of Independence away from tourism and insanity. They broadcast fireworks on cable and I have a CD with Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overature. I can mute the TV and combine the two. Plus, I'm thankful to have him home safe.

This year, we bought sparklers to take to the Grandchildren on July 9th and we are having a family cookout without the stress of holiday traffic.

God Bless America and happy July 4th weekend everyone!

'Crushed Nuts' and Buried Treasure

2011-06-22T06:30:00.004+01:00

I am happy to report that the National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC) has nominated me to the Board of Directors: Read the announcement

Thank you so much to everyone who left messages on my Facebook page and Twitter account.

I am looking forward to attending the NSNC "Rebound in Motown" Conference in Detroit this week. I will be posting photos. Details of the event can be found at http://www.columnists.com.

If you are a columnist or blogger, check out the entire website, then click on the *Join or Renew* Tab to find out how you can also become a member of the NSNC. Testimonials are about half-way down the page.

Of course, I don’t need to explain why networking is so important to you for achieving career goals and enhancing your personal development as a writer. It is one of the main reasons why many people join. It is an invaluable learning experience. Exchanging ideas with other writers will motivate you to get back on top of projects that you might have put aside because you needed mentoring or the information necessary to get your work published or syndicated.

If you are not a writer, but came here today looking for something funny, here goes:

I have been procrastinating mulching my garden and also submitted an Extension Form with the IRS to file my taxes late. True, I enjoy fresh herbs, vegetables, and fruit; but messing with earthworms is not something I like to deal with. Plus, I’m allergic to fertilizer. I break out in hives. So, I’ve been looking at all the limp stuff out in my back yard that require food and water. I am my father’s daughter, and Dad could have won the National Sandbagger Championship back in 1955, when he sent “Nothing to Report” on a 3"x5" index card to the IRS because there was no such thing as an Extension Form.

I made coffee and started listening to "Crushed Nuts," a hilarious set of CDs (yes, two of them)by The Bob & Tom Show. I was on Track #28 "Red Flag Accounting," when this article pops up on my laptop about a guy finding 650-year-old treasure in his herb garden click here to read it .

Excuse my lack of typing skills right now, I have five earthworms hanging off my index finger and a beetle just scurried under the “A” key.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Felice Giorno del Padre: An Italian Father's Day Tribute

2011-06-18T09:25:00.006+01:00

I'd like to take this opportunity to pay tribute to one of the great men in my life, my Italian grandfather, Alfonso. This was the guy who put me wise to the double-standard.

I'd like to make this a heart warming and sensitive human interest story. One that would bring a nostalgic tear to anyone's eye, but let's get real here. Hearts and flowers are for incurable romantics. Me, Norman Rockwell, and Virginia Hill all have a lot in common - realism.

I only had one grandfather, as the other one died before I was born, so Grandpop Alfonso and me had a private joke: As he was sternly meting out discipline to his kids, he was also enjoying the power of being in a position of authority. I caught on to this, as I was the second oldest grandchild, a girl; and for some reason he never yelled at me, but would wink in my direction when he reamed someone else.

As an Italian, he was more than a little strict with his daughters about such things as cussing and smoking in public. He forbade them to smoke at all, saying that it didn't reflect well on their individual character. One of my aunts, who could have given Al Capone a run for his money, was once evicted from the house for an entire summer for saying "wop" (his English wasn't good enough to translate some of her other words), while smoking a cigarette. I think she was also hooked on old Bette Davis movies at the time.

She is 84 years old now. She quit smoking when she was 78 for health reasons.

It was a normal routine for my family to chip-in and take my grandparents to the Jersey shore every summer for a month. Then, aunts and uncles would alternate vacation days, so the house could accommodate everyone else for a few days at a time.

One night I was up on the boardwalk and there was this game being played for packs of cigarettes. I didn't smoke at the time, but the game looked like fun, so I played and won about 10 packs of my grandfather's brand of tobacco.

Needless to say, I became his best friend for the rest of his life. He even shared an ounce of his homemade wine with me to celebrate this friendship. I was only 12.

Every time I went up on the boards, he'd slip me a few dimes and say "Don'ta tella you mom." I always came back with lots of cigarettes. The game hawker even knew me by my first name.

You have to understand that all the women in the family locked themselves in the bathroom to smoke, so he wouldn't catch them. As a kid, I couldn't quite figure out what the consequences would be if they ever got caught.

So, there I was, all my friends were still playing with Betsy-Wetsy dolls, and I was the delivery girl, you know, just like Virginia Hill, delivering Lucky Strikes to my grandfather in the kitchen and Chesterfields and Camels up in the bathroom (solitary confinement) to my mom and aunts. My grandmother was probably watching the "Untouchables" in the living room because she didn't smoke. Plus, she had this secret crush on Frank Nitti. If it was an episode of "The Jersey Shore," she would have been drooling over Paulie D. Little House on the Prairie it wasn't, ya know?

Sometimes when you walked into the bathroom, it looked and smelled much like the back room of an illegal gambling establishment in the Bronx. The language wasn't much better either. They all thought they were bad and were laughing and entertaining themselves, thinking they were pulling something over on their old man. However, he did have to "go" once in a while and use the room. So, I think he knew.

Once my cousin Vinnie came down from New York. He had to "go" and was forced to switch to plan B, the outhouse. So, he located and loaded up all their cigarettes with those little wooden cigarette loads that blow up when burning tobacco touches them. I think four of my aunts were in the bathroom at the time, and all of a sudden it sounded like the 4th of July in there, with screaming and running mixed into the fireworks.

Downstairs, I heard Grandpop mutter under his breath "dumba asino ragazze."

Grandpop Alfonso, wherever you are, Happy Father's Day!

1st Annual F Harold Comedy Festival is at The Walnut Street Theatre

2011-06-09T19:59:00.003+01:00

Move over NY and LA, here comes Philly! Philadelphia Comedy is gaining a stronghold. Folks who love comedy will find all art forms represented in the City of Brotherly Love: standup, sketch, and improv. The main source of information is a Philadelphia Comedy Blog called WitOut http://www.witout.net, where you will find a complete listing of performers and venues.

Last year at this time, I signed up with the Philadelphia Improv Theatre (PHIT) to take an Improv Level 1 class. My instructor was Rick Horner. I recently signed up for sketch comedy writing at PHIT and attended standup classes at The Helium Comedy Club with Brad Trackman. Yes, that's in addition to writing a humor book called Sitting on Cold Porcelain. Okay, so now I can stand in front of a mirror with a mic and command all my funny extremities to become double-jointed and write my own press release. I can't decide on a favorite comedy art form, I like them all.

I have kept in touch with Rick Horner via Facebook and found out that he has organized the 1st Annual F Harold Comedy Festival for people like me, who love all forms of comedy, so I attended opening night on June 7th, and asked for an interview. I was amazed at the talent represented on stage. His goal is to give the Philadelphia community an "opportunity to see a cross-section of local talent."

The Festival runs until June 12th, so you can still buy tickets at the Walnut Street Theatre, Studio 5, box office.

You will love it!

Following is my interview with Rick:

Q1
Opening night at the F Harold Comedy Festival was fantastic. Can you tell me more about the performers in the lineup?
What an opening night! John Kensil is a popular local stand up comedian I was fortunate enough to book, The Hendersons are a brand-new long form improv group debuting an awesome show at the F. Harold!
Rosen & Milkshake are an incredible rockin' Philly favorite, hot off the heels of a dynamite performance at Duofest (an improv festival specifically for duos only), and Carolyn Busa is one the hottest comedians performing all over Philadelphia!
Grimmacchio, who also had a terrific performance at last weekend's Duofest, delighted audiences Tuesday to a sold-out crowd, and Ryan Carey had a tremendous set of his stand-up! Aaron Hertzog can be seen all around Philadelphia either doing solo stand-up or performing with one of his improv groups, Hate Speech Committee, Get a Room, or The Hendersons!
I was lucky to have Pat House close out the night with some of his wonderful stand-up - and Pat will be hosting all of Sunday's shows as well. All talent, all Philly, all handled beautifully by a great group of volunteers - Emily Davis, Cara Schmidt, Mark Dames, and Greg Maughan.

Q2
Where do you yourself perform Improv in Philadelphia?

I perform in three duos!

WhipSuit (performing tonight!) has a regular performance every third Friday of the month at O'Neals pub, 611 South 3rd Street, Philadelphia, PA 19147 (great food and drink specials!) at 8:15pm.

Horner & Davis (performing Saturday night!) and Suggestical, An Improvised Musical perform all over town, with the Philly Improv Theater at the Shubin Theatre, 407 Bainbridge Street, Philadelphia, PA 19147; and with Polygon Comedy at other venues like Tabu Lounge & Sports Bar, 200 South 12th Street, Philadelphia, PA 19107.

I also coach improv (currently coaching Rintersplit (performing Thursday) and Iron Lung (performing Friday night!) I am available for additional improv coaching gigs at ick1019@gmail.com or 267.278.5250.

I also run the Improv Incubator weekly at the Community Education Center in West Philadelphia (3500 Lancaster Ave, Philadelphia PA 19104) which is a social and creative mixer where the entire Philly improv community is invited to meet, play, and perform scenes.

Q3
Did you grow up in the area?
I grew up in Northeast Philadelphia and I love Philly and all of the amazing talent inside and all around it!!! Now I live in Telford - if you can find it, come visit me and I will have coffee with you.

Q4
What do you do at PHIT?
I am a recently-retired House Team Director at PHIT (former House Team Activity Book). I am also one of the many instructors there - actually I have a class that is starting soon, Improv Level 201! Improv Level 201 is Wednesday nights from 7 to 9:30 starting Wednesday 6/22/11 , and there are 7 spots left (plus if you register by 6/15/11 you can save $50)! Commercial over. You had me as a teacher Rose, so you know I'm all about making students work hard, get better, and look good.

Q5
What are your long-term goals for the F Harold Comedy Festival?
It is so amazing that so many great companies are producing great comedy — PHIT, ComedySportz, PHIF, PJI, The N Crowd — I could go on and on. F. Harold is a little different from other things happening in Philly because it is a blend of the parts of comedy that seem to be finding so much overlap in the city already, thanks to Philly Improv Theater and The Philadelphia Joke Initiative. They have fostered a true sense of cohesiveness between stand-up, sketch and improv and the goal of the F. Harold is to allow all the talent Philly has to offer the opportunity to both demonstrate and exhibit each other, and showcase new ideas and people.

Q6
If people from out-of-town want to get a feel for Philly comedy, where are the best places to go?
I am going to give you some websites:
ComedySportz (http://www.comedysportzphilly.com)
Philadelphia Improv Festival (http://www.phif.org)
Philly Improv Theater (http://www.phillyimprovtheater.com)
Philadelphia Joke Initiative (http://www.contactpji.com)
Polygon Comedy (http://www.facebook.com/home.php?sk=group_223016407708844)
The N Crowd (http://www.phillyncrowd.com)
Helium Comedy Club (http://www.heliumcomedy.com)

Q7
Do you have a blog, Facebook page, twitter account where folks can learn more about you and F Harold?
Yes! The wonderful web page developed by Jess Carpenter (performing Saturday night!) with logos and flyers created by Cara Schmidt and Chris Calletta: F Harold Presents and links to all other social media.

Anthony Weiner: Emerald Forest Syndrome?

2011-06-07T10:31:00.030+01:00

"...And, as a guy from Brooklyn, there's no way I'm backing down." ~ Anthony Weiner (not TheKidFromBrooklyn.com).

I recently told someone that I wouldn’t touch this topic with a ten foot pole, but I’ve changed my mind. I suppose you could say that people like me, who used to be called “The Silent Majority” are no longer silent. We are now labeled “Fed Ups.” We just want things to work effectively and people that we elect to behave themselves and do a good job for us. We pay their salaries, right? We expect our money’s worth.

No matter what occupation one has, there are certain expectations. If you work for a company that has a dress code and you seek to succeed in your career there, you won't wear jeans to work. You tend to adapt to the culture, no matter what it might be. If you are an elected politician, you are expected to be dedicated to your job and keep your zipper up for four-to-eight years. We know its hard, but you have to deal with that. If you plan to fail, however, that’s a whole different scenario, like some politicians we all know.

The funny thing about political sex scandals is the culprit doesn’t expect to get caught. Keep in mind, however, that hidden somewhere deep in the recesses of the individual's mind, he or she really knows that they are always in the public eye via news media, and there is actually no place to hide.

I’m still not quite sure if some politicans wear horse blinders or are just plain stupid. Maybe they really think no one will notice personal misbehaviors?

I saw a movie like that once, where people ran around naked and didn’t think anyone noticed. It was called "The Emerald Forest." They applied some green paint and poof! they were invisible.

Maybe it’s a new mental health disorder that needs to be studied called Emerald Forest syndrome.

People with Emerald Forest Syndrome will take a public servant position for a certain number of years, knowing that news reporters, who are following them around all the time, are part of the package, and then, they self-destruct. Maybe the journalists with the cameras won’t see him going into the restaurant with a hoochie mama; after all, he applied the green paint before making the date. He will sexually harass his subordinates because he is in power and the subordinate needs the job and won’t tell anyone. Besides, he is wearing green paint. Pay no attention to the little guy behind the camera, there is always an alibi. After all, his boss, the ones who make payroll, the American tax payers, are oblivious. Besides, he is wearing green paint.

Only if caught red-handed will the Emerald Forest Syndrome sufferer call a public news conference, cry a lot, apologize, beg for forgiveness, and claim temporary insanity.

Recently, US Representative Anthony Weiner was called on the carpet for using social networking sites to send lewd photos of himself to strange women. Maybe he expected the Dallas Cheerleaders to jump on Twitter and RT his weiner...

Let's get physical
Let's get down,
get hard, get funk
And beat that other junk!

... who knows? His initial response really ticked some people off.

Horse blinders or Emerald Forest Syndrome?

See the YouTube Video.

New NSNC Conference Humor Panel: ‘How To Become An Algonquin Wit’

2011-06-01T14:01:00.002+01:00

by Tom Saunders

Discover how the great Robert Benchley – columnist, actor, New Yorker critic, Algonquin Round Table regular and the man who quipped “The free-lance writer gets paid per piece or per word or perhaps” – can inspire you to tackle the silly and absurd side of life at the 2011 “Rebound In Motown” conference of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists.

Thom Saunders has uncovered Benchley’s little-known essays from the rarely explored archives of the Detroit Athletic Club’s private literary magazine and collected them into a new, award-winning book, “The Athletic Benchley” – a surprising title when it comes to the author of “How to Sleep” and “I Like to Loaf.”

Saunders – winner of the Robert Benchley Award for Humor in 2005 – will be joined by Benchley fans Ken Voyles of the Athletic Club as well as New York Times bestselling humor author, 2006 Benchley Award winner and Columnist of the Year Bruce Cameron; Erma Bombeck Award winner Mike Ball; and Radio Hall of Famer and Detroit comedy icon Dick Purtan. They’ll explore what you can learn from the man who wrote “The Sex Life of the Polyp” while attempting to heed Benchley’s warning that, “There are no lengths to which humorless people will not go to analyze Humor.”

Panel topics include:
• Don't be funny – be funny consistently
• No one cares about your dog except you
• Building funny platforms and sidestepping OSHA
• Algonquin humor – without the three (or 12 martinis)
• If you think you have been funny, where do you send it? Humor's sordid side.

The panel takes place on the afternoon of Friday, June 24, during the Rebound in Motown conference of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists, June 23-26 at the restored four-diamond Westin Book-Cadillac in Detroit.

A conference special rate to all members in good standing of the Robert Benchley Society and the Erma Bombeck Writers Workshop is available for $299 with a registration for two or more nights at the Book-Cadillac. You can find a complete conference schedule here, special discount hotel registration here for $124 per night with free Internet and discount valet parking, airline and rental car discounts here, and conference registration here.

See you in Detroit!

‘Loose Lips Sink Ships’

2011-05-30T03:48:00.000+01:00

All the recent publicity about WikiLeaks and Julian Assange getting interrogated, reminded me of the WWII saying “Loose lips sink ships.” Not only did the military mandate the rule to soldiers writing home during war time, but my grandmother took it a step further and enforced it at home, when the “dirt” or “scoop” pertained to a family member. You know, tell an outsider about family business and your ass is grass.

This is truly a violation of our freedom of speech, but most of the time it is for a good reason. People can actually die if you spill your guts. In the military actual lives are at stake. At home, one could die of embarrassment if anyone found out that Uncle Harry has a pair of red sequined stilettos and a votive candle on his night stand.

No, it has nothing to do with "don't ask, don't tell." Uncle Harry has a foot fetish. Grandma blames his podophilia on the fact that they had to live in a basement apartment in the theatre district during his formative years.

This is the directive our military issued during WWII:

1. Don't write military information of Army units -- their location, strength, material, or equipment.

2. Don't write of military installations.

3. Don't write of transportation facilities.

4. Don't write of convoys, their routes, ports (including ports of embarkation and disembarkation), time en route, naval protection, or war incidents occurring en route.

5. Don't disclose movements of ships, naval or merchant, troops, or aircraft.

6. Don't mention plans and forecasts or orders for future operations, whether known or just your guess.

7. Don't write about the effect of enemy operations.

8. Don't tell of any casualty until released by proper authority (The Adjutant General) and then only by using the full name of the casualty.

9. Don't attempt to formulate or use a code system, cipher, or shorthand, or any other means to conceal the true meaning of your letter. Violations of this regulation will result in severe punishment.

10. Don't give your location in any way except as authorized by proper authority. Be sure nothing you write about discloses a more specific location than the one authorized.

The military penalty for violating these rules was the court-martial system. My grandmother’s penalty was a bit simpler, but more violent – the cat o' nine tails.

The common denominator here is “common sense.” You have to ask yourself about the repercussions of being a magpie.

I don’t feel sorry for Julian Assange, who starred in his own music video called “Two Ladies,” which was made popular by Joel Grey in the film, Cabaret. Not only is Assange disloyal to the cause – the war on terror, which is no skin off his nose because he is not an American citizen, but he is making a small fortune as a seedy blabbermouth. He has given terrorists access to classified information, indirectly caused cyber attacks, opened a Swiss bank account, and is now auditioning for a Swedish sitcom called “Aussie and Harlot.”

He submitted this video to Scotland Yard, in a lame attempt to prove that he has not committed a crime:

Got White Space?

2011-05-29T08:00:00.002+01:00

Since President Obama announced the details of his National Broadband Plan, online news editors have been breaking out in hives.

The announcement came last spring: National Broadband

Now that it is being implemented, editors are frantically asking "What will we do with the white space?"

“White space” is a term used by many national print newspapers and magazines that need some kind of fill (article) to complete the newspaper’s content. When they have too much white space, they will resort to printing a lame story like “Stray Politicians Checking Into Cheap Motels Are Warned by Homeland Security Not to Sign-in as Lars Vilks” or "What Did Horace J. Digby Jr. Mean When he Said 'You only need one real stroke of genius to make it through life . . . Gee I hope that wasn't mine!" just to fill the remainder or white space.

If its just a small amount of white space needed, you will notice that the text in the newspaper or magazine is a tad larger than usual or column lines are a bit shorter at the end of each page.

You will also see newsletters filling white space with blurbs from Canadians bragging about their Olympic prowess.

With broadband technology, the white space can now refer to either seconds of broadcast time or "fills" for text content. You will be glad to know that The Onion has found an ingenious solution for filling broadcast time, so we can all keep up with current events 24x7:

Breaking News: Some Bullshit Happening Somewhere

An Interview with W. Bruce Cameron

2011-05-24T05:01:00.004+01:00

by Rose A. Valenta

Photo courtesy of W. Bruce Cameron, Cathryn Michon, and Tucker

I was so pleased when W. Bruce Cameron granted me an interview. I have admired his work for many years, especially after the success of his sitcom 8 Simple Rules in 2001. I met him at the 2006 Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop where he gave the keynote address and autographed his book for me. I was impressed with the ease in which he spoke to the entire group for over an hour. I had been struggling with public speaking jitters, so I was focused on his performance. It was flawless, as if he was born with a mic in his fist and an innate talent for effective communication. I asked him about it later, he just shrugged and said, “I Just do it.”

Although Bruce is on top of his game now, the journey to success has not come easy. He worked at a variety of day jobs to support his family while simultaneously submitting manuscripts to literary agents, but he always knew that his true passion was being a writer. He wrote his first short story in the fourth grade and sold his first short story to a publisher when he was only 16 years old, so he knew. In college, he worked on the literary magazine and Westminster student newspaper. However, it wasn’t until 1995 that he managed to get his "Cameron Column" syndicated via the Rocky Mountain News. Then, in 2001 with some help with a book proposal, he published his first blockbuster 8 Simple Rules for Dating my Teenage Daughter, which was immediately chosen for both a Disney feature film and the popular sitcom. The story was based on Bruce’s real-life family adventure - father of three.

Bruce has also written How to Remodel a Man, 8 Simple Rules for Marrying My Daughter, A Dog’s Purpose, and Emory’s Gift, which is scheduled to be released in September 2011. He won the 2006 Robert Benchley Society Award for Humor and has twice received the National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC) Award for Best Humor Columnist . He was recently named Best Columnist of the Year by the NSNC. I will be attending the awards dinner at the NSNC “Rebound in Motown” Conference in Detroit, to congratulate him personally on June 24th.

Bruce’s nationally syndicated column is published in more than 50 newspapers. His fiction debut, A Dog’s Purpose, is a New York Times, USA Today, and Los Angeles Times bestseller and is soon to be a major live-action film from DreamWorks Studios. He will be writing the screenplay for DreamWorks with his beautiful new wife, actress Cathryn Michon. Again, the story is based on a real-life interest in animal rescue, thanks to his daughter, 28-year-old Georgia Lee. She is the founder and president of Life is Better Rescue, a non-profit rescue organization. No date is set for the release date of the film.

Following is my interview with Bruce:

Q1
How did you get started as a writer?
That’s almost like asking me how I got started as a human. For as long as I can remember, I’ve written stories. For many years, I held down day jobs, including a career with General Motors, but I always wrote.

Q2
Other than A Dog’s Purpose what is your favorite project that you have worked on?
I have a book coming out in August - Emory’s Gift. It’s my favorite.

Q3
When your book, 8 Simple Rules for Dating my Teenage Daughter, was selected to be made into a sitcom, how many writers worked on that project for the show?
When it started, it was just the show runner, though he did go out to some other writers for help, which is typical. He and I had lunch and I’d pitch him ideas, some of which made it into the pilot.

Q4
How is that type of writing different than writing a book?
Writing a book is a solo effort. Sort of like the movie 127 hours: you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, and eventually you have to cut your own arm off. A TV show is more like a high school prom, with everyone terrified and eventually you wind up going to the dance with someone you don’t even like.

Q5
Were you surprised at the success of the show?
We had a great cast and the show was about my crazy family. I thought all other networks would simply give up and cease broadcasting.

Q6
What was the impetus that made you decide to write A Dog’s Purpose?
The book crawled into my head and kept chewing on my brain. I had to let it out before it wrecked the furniture.

Q7
I understand that you and Cathryn are now writing the screenplay for DreamWorks. How did that evolve?
When I sell a property, I make sure I’m attached to write the adaptation. And I wouldn’t think of doing it without my writing partner, who is not only a successful author but has a solid track record in both TV and features.

Q8
What is the most challenging/stressful part of your career?
To be a successful author requires lots of luck and lots of marketing effort and skill. The less luck you have, the more marketing you have to do. What’s stressful is trying to write full time and market myself full time.

Q9
What is the most rewarding/exciting part of your career?
I love the e-mails and Facebook messages I receive from my fans. It’s truly gratifying.

Q10
How have your career goals changed since you started out?
Cathryn and I shot an independent movie a few years ago and I want to do more of that.

Q11
Who has been your favorite actor/director/producer/writer that you've worked with?
I’ve only worked with one actor/director/producer/writer, and that’s Cathryn Michon. She’s my favorite.

Q12
Are you planning to write a subsequent novel or screenplay?
I am writing a sequel this year. We’ll see if it turns into a screenplay!

Q13
What would be your words of wisdom to someone starting out in this industry?
Develop the personal and presentational skills you’ll need to get noticed. With electronic publishing, anyone can be a published author. You need to attract attention in a crowded field.

Q14
Do you have a website, Facebook fan page, Twitter account, and other social networking sites where your fans can learn more?
Yes! My author site is www.wbrucecameron.com. For A Dog’s Purpose, I have a website, www.adogspurpose.com, and also there’s the Facebook fan page, where 34,000 fans (and growing) go to talk about their dogs, share stories and pictures, and continue important conversations.

Grandparenting 2012

2011-05-20T20:34:00.005+01:00

by Rose A. Valenta

Grandparenting has evolved from feeding baby food to a toddler wearing a Disney character on his bib, to feeding spinach to a Neanderthal wearing a “Got MILF?” t-shirt – no bib.

That isn’t the only thing that has changed. This morning I got up and they were discussing media ethics on the news. I wish they would have thought of that when Clinton was President. You can't v-chip the news, so back then, you had to use the TV remote control like Morse Code, dit dit dit dah dah dah dit dit dit (Save Our Ship), while helping the kids with homework. Whatever happened to late-night? NOW they question ethics...too late...little Johnny already has a cigar-smoking Oval Office Masters Degree.

Read article: Media Ethics

Parents can't be too careful about children's safety these days either. So, I try to help out. I tell my grandson "If you find yourself in a strange place, always look like you know where you are going. If you are driving, never yell 'Who's your daddy?' out the car window in Arnold Schwarzenegger's neighborhood."

What’s happening to our culture? We live in a sick world.

Have you been listening to their music? The hip-hop generation is insane. They idolize Rhianna and Cee Lo Green, when they should be listening to healthy lessons about losing their dog, like “Old Shep” by Red Foley.

I went on YouTube after my youngest grandson left for school and learned a few lessons of my own. No wonder they are predicting the end of the world. Not that I believe in that sort of thing. It’s just a lot of scare tactics, like the 60s when some Tibetan banshee would be out chanting on the street corner, “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama…” and a 7th Day Adventist would carry a sign “The End is Near.” Now it’s 2012.

This is what is scaring our kids. No wonder they don’t want to do homework. It is all being mapped out for us by none other than Jesse Ventura:

Seriously, guys, can’t we go back to scaring the kids with harmless Boris Karloff movies?
~~~
Pick up my book, “Sitting on Cold Porcelain,” at SMASHWORDS.COM

Real Flak From The Patty Baena Affair

2011-05-19T01:38:00.007+01:00

"Bless me father for I have sinned. Last night, my husband and I were watching an x-rated video together, when he hit the remote to watch Neil Cavuto for a few minutes. Cavuto was discussing Arnold Schwarzenegger. I looked at my husband. His face turned beat-red. So, I flushed all the Cialis down the toilet and set the bedroom on fire." ~ Mary Frances O'Leary

After the fire engines left my friend Mary Frances’ house, she told me in confidence what had happened.

“But, what did he do?” I asked.

“Nothing actually, he just looked guilty… and then the fight started,” she said. “I have to go to confession.”

Thank you, Arnold Schwarzenegger. You have just screwed up the love life of some of my best friends. Mary and Patrick O’Leary have been married 30 years. YOU should have to listen to all the fallout!

The insurance adjuster showed up the next morning as Mary, our friend Helen, and I were discussing the situation over Mimosas in her kitchen.

“How did you say this happened?” He asked.

“A scented candle tipped over in LA...er...I mean my bedroom, when I had to give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to my husband, who was in the next room watching Fox News.” Mary responded.

He panned all of us sitting at the table and the bottle of wine. “Where is Mr. O’Leary?” He asked.

“He’s over at the incinerator with Father Murphy saying an Act of Contrition and burning his porn collection.”

After the adjuster left, we started Googling all the news about Schwarzenegger, while consoling our friend.

“I think a shrink would call this ‘reaction formation,’ Mary.” Helen said. “Did you always have the hots for Arnold?”

“No, it wasn’t that,” she insisted. “Patrick just looked guilty. I know that it’s profiling and he should be considered innocent, but I kept thinking about the time last year, when I hired Frieda on The Spot to clean our house for Judy’s wedding. I was at work.”

“That’s called jumping to conclusions,” I said. “It would never hold up in court.”

“The house was spotless. Servicing the help didn’t even enter my mind, until last night.”

Helen was pensive and half shot already. “Isn’t Frieda’s closed now? Someone said that she was an illegal alien.”

“Yes, and Patrick would never do a thing like that. He supported Arizona SB1070. I mean, if he was going to sleep with her, he would have asked to see her papers. What have I done?”

“Here ya go!” Helen said. “This is why Frieda left. They had a hidden camera in the bathroom. You guys should just stop watching Neil Cavuto during sex.”

~~~
Pick up my book, “Sitting on Cold Porcelain,” at SMASHWORDS.COM

Ahl al-Fatrah: or Cover Your Butt

2011-05-11T02:56:00.000+01:00

by Rose A. Valenta

In Malaysia, it is illegal for a Muslim to smoke. However, the faithful are not listening. Over half of the 27 million citizens of Malaysia are Muslim, and more than 50% of them smoke cigarettes.

Part of the problem is attitude and motivation. Muslims are read the Holy Despicable Cow! Riot Act, while Americans are given educational commercials, like the one shown below, and treated as if they have some intelligence.

Nik Aziz, a top Malaysian cleric and leader of the Pan-Islamic Party (PAS) in Kuala Lumpur really let his flock have it, by saying “Muslims who smoke and try to portray themselves as pious are worse than cows which defecate in the street.”

I’m sure someone could be intimidated by that.

"...a cow which defecates in the middle of the road, we cannot take legal action against it because it has no brain and cannot think." But human beings, who have brains, for them to do something which is wrong in religion ... when they are in an attire which symbolizes Islam, they can be regarded as being more despicable than cows," he told Malaysia's news agency, Bernama. He added that ”smoking is forbidden by Islam,” and there is a fatwa banning the habit.

That did not stop 80-year-old Sama Abdul from selling "how to" booklets, while wearing a burka, at BB Plaza and Sungei Wang Plaza, called “Ahl al-Fatrah: or Cover Your Butt.” It describes over 30 ways to remove the nicotine stains from burkas before the husband comes home from work; as well as 10 shoe odor-busters, 10 breath sanitizers, 100 great hiding places for hard packs, 100% guaranteed makeup and tattoo removers, and a whole chapter on "The Joys of Sneaking a Pulled Pork Sandwich."

I like the American way best:

~~~
Pick up my book, “Sitting on Cold Porcelain,” at SMASHWORDS.COM

Happy Mother's Day!

2011-05-08T13:48:00.000+01:00

On Mother's Day, I began to reflect on the joys of motherhood and the sheer ecstasy of being a grandma.

As a mom, you have to take responsibility for everything from wiping away tears to forming good character, and maintaining a balanced diet. You read Dr. Spock's books on parenting and Dr. Seuss for bedtime stories, although I always got the feeling that talking about green eggs and ham before sleep inspired nightmares. It also spawned creativity in people like Steven Spielberg and Stephen King, who made all the rest of the kids think about the scary hairy creatures hiding under the bed. Thanks alot, guys!

As a grandma, you forget about the balanced diet and load the kids up on sugar cookies and chocolate ice cream, while grandpa teaches them that there is nothing more important to maintaining good character than a pair of brass knuckles, so you can beat the crap out of all the hairy creatures hiding under the bed. Plus, grandparents don't have to make kids eat their spinach and actually prefer a good game of Wii in lieu of a bedtime story.

Where little Johnny's mom would ream him another one for uttering a swear word, grandma often laughs and then teaches him all the synonyms, so he can entertain her Red Hat Society friends during cocktail hour.

Happy Mother's Day to all the famous and not so famous Moms, Mr. Moms, favorite aunts, and grandmas!

Geronimo! It’s All Bush’s Fault

2011-05-06T18:32:00.003+01:00

By Rose A. Valenta

What else are we paying for besides the high price of gasoline?
We are paying for the U.S. Senate hearings on the use of the code word “Geronimo” for Osama Bin Laden. They could have used the “F” word, but although fitting and proper, it would have offended everyone else. So, yesterday there were Senate hearings at our expense. Even if they rule in favor of Geronimo’s descendants, the fact is they said it, and the word “Geronimo” will forever be linked to Navy SEAL Troop 6 and US Special Forces.

Read the News Article

Is it such a bad thing?
When I was growing up, we used to play cowboys and Indians all the time. Most of the kids wanted to play Geronimo. It was no fun playing Cochise. If you were Geronimo, you could kick ass. So, it was actually a compliment. “Geronimo!” is yelled when Paratroopers jump out of airplanes. It was yelled when the SEALs got the job done. It has good connotations. So, what’s up with the expensive hearings?

It’s all Bush’s fault. Back in 1918, Prescott Bush, Dubya’s grandfather, who was a member of the Yale Skull and Bones secret society allegedly stole Geronimo’s skull and other bones from his burial site in Fort Sill, OK. The society members then transported the bones to “The Tomb,” the society’s sacred building. A lawsuit ensued and Geronimo’s descendants demanded their return. This is how the fight started.

President Obama can now blame Bush for the negativity.

I want my money spent on gasoline hearings, guys! Give them back the bones and tell everyone to toughen up.
~~~
Pick up my book, “Sitting on Cold Porcelain,” at SMASHWORDS.COM

Osama Bin Laden is dead!

2011-05-02T06:46:00.015+01:00

"Pick up a copy of my book "Sitting on Cold Porcelain" for less than a gallon of gas at Smashwords " ~ Rosie

It’s official, Osama Bin Laden was killed by Navy SEALs and his body confiscated by U.S. ground forces at a compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan, about 80 miles north of Islamabad - long overdue!

Rumor has it that he will be buried at sea according to Islamic traditions (before the next prayer service). Speculation is that a quicksand pit at the Dead Sea will be chosen. This way, if terrorists decide to make it hallowed ground, we can wipe them all out in a single pilgrimage. The Dead Sea pit will absorb the bodies and there will be no leakage into any body of water.

Upon hearing the news, I donned my press badge and collected eulogy comments about the event including some from his designated pallbearers:

“It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. My boyfriend, Kermit, and me just bought scalper tickets to Next Restaurant.” ~ Miss Piggy
“I have decided NOT to become a sheepdog after all. This is too much fun. BTW, who gets to keep the bounty?” ~ Babe
“It was a Noble thing.” ~ Piglet
“We are throwing a party in Woodcock Pocket; you are invited.” ~ Toot and Puddle
“Risu and I are making a Hello Kitty body bag for him.” ~ Pippo
“It’s milk and apples on the Animal Farm tonight!” ~ Squealer
"As chief pallbearer, they call me MISTER Pig!" ~ Pumbaa
“They huffed and they puffed and they blew him away.” ~ Three Little Pigs
“Zuckerman gave me the day off to celebrate this event.” ~ Wilbur
“Hyvästi!” ~ Wagner the Pig
“He is now a dead wuz-wolf.” ~ Peter Porkchop
“It’s a clap hands celebration!” ~ Hamm
“I like my bin laden sausage with fennel seeds, please.” ~ Gordy the Pig
“Jolly good job!.” ~ Johnny The Pepermint Pig
“I am feasting on TWO Buster Bars.” ~ Noelle
“I knew he would get it. Can I put an apple in his mouth?” ~ Arnold Ziffle
“Can I have my old name back for the services?” ~ Pork Chop (a.k.a. Ferrous)
"Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-That's all, folks!” ~ Porky Pig
"I just love Stuttering pigs, don’t you?” ~ Petunia Pig

There's Chocolate!

2011-04-28T03:01:00.000+01:00

Most of the time, I stay away from junk food, soda, and candy. My Italian heritage makes it difficult for me to keep my weight down, so it takes extra effort to stay under 125 lbs. I have to stay under 125 lbs. as I’m only five foot tall, maybe smaller in my stocking feet and I’m still shopping in the size 14 rack, which ticks me off. This morning, however, I was craving chocolate milk. Not the 1, 2, or 4 percent variety, but the real deal with all the fat from the cow mixed in with lots of chocolate syrup. You know, milk with the real tasty cream that used to rise to the top of the milk bottle before dairies started to use homogenization.

There was a time, when kids could sneak out on the front porch with a spoon in the morning and skim the cream off the top of the milk. Most of those kids grew up to be stock brokers and investment managers. The kids, who ended up working for the government liked the homogenized milk better.

Anyway, I decided to reward myself for staying away from the junk food for over a month. I was wandering around the company café’, not located anywhere near Wall Street by-the-way, looking for a small carton of chocolate milk. The only thing I could find was 1 percent. I was pissed. I really didn’t want to settle for anything less than 100 percent. I deserved 100 percent. Besides, I can still squeeze my hand into the waistband of the size 14 skirt. So what if its elastic?

I craved the ecstatic flavor of the real fattening cacao content of chocolate milk.

There was none to be found with over 1 percent fat. We live in a sick world filled with cardboard health food bars, low-fat everything, manikin teenagers, and Howard Stern, I concluded.

Then, I spotted it and began to drool. A pot of half-n-half was sitting next to the coffee pot in the café’. I grabbed a styrofoam cup and filled it half-way with cream, went over to the register and purchased a carton of 1 percent chocolate milk. The one percent reminded me of a similar quote by Dave Barry “Eating rice cakes is like chewing on a foam coffee cup, only less filling.”

You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet!

2011-04-19T17:25:00.012+01:00

I made coffee with that phrase in my head after checking my inbox and reading the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop (EBWW) monthly newsletter http://www.humorwriters.org this morning. Depending on which age group you are in, you can equate that phrase with either Bachman Turner Overdrive’s 1983 hit album, or “The Jazz Singer,” starring Al Jolson. I fall somewhere in between the two, as I grew up watching classic movies and hung around with old people. I like to think of it as a positive, “Honey, if you think that was terrific, you ain’t seen nothing yet!” Okay, it is not good grammar, I should be ashamed. Coffee will fix that.

Are you confused?

I will help you.

Last year at this time, I was out in Dayton, Ohio, attending EBWW 2010 with about 350 other writer humorists at the University of Dayton. We left there with a mascot (E.B. Heron, named after E.B. White); many new friends; and Facebook/Twitter accounts to look up, join, or send friend requests. We also left there with a feeling of kick-ass enthusiasm, we were among the “We can do this!” success group. My tape recorder, business card slots, and notebook were all full. I was armed and dangerous with perceived leverage and a little chutzpah. I miss my friends there now, and can’t wait for EBWW 2012.

During the last year, most of us have joined everything including the NetWits, Southern Humorists, and humor writers newsgroup on Yahoo, the National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC) and the Robert Benchley Society. The criteria to become a member of those groups, of course, is that you write humor in a forum, newspaper column, blog, or book; or just drink and aspire to do so. We are competitive, keeping everyone in the loop for things like interviews, new book releases, awards, contests, and book launches. You could also say it is a training ground for learning great communication skills. We also post failed attempts, but we downplay those. I believe we’ve finally made it into the A Zone.

Many of us have come a long way in just the last 12 months. Baltimore comedian, Michele Wojciechowski, has syndicated her column Wojo’s World , as did Joy Steele (bunny slippers), and Tracy Baron Beckerman with Lost in Suburbia. Of course we all knew Tracy would excel, since she had Mo Rocca following her around at the Workshop all weekend with a camera crew for a CBS Sunday Morning interview. This year, she won The Balancing Act Top Blogger award and has been on Lifetime television.

New book releases include Y-Mee's A-B-C Book of Emotions by Wanda Argersinger, who is now authoring another one; Leave it to Boomer by faculty member Jerry Zezima, who also writes for The Huffington Post; Sitting on Cold Porcelain by yours truly, with syndicated columns at Senior Wire and Associated Content from Yahoo; A Dog’s Purpose by 2008 keynote speaker and award winner, W. Bruce Cameron, Crossbow by 2008 faculty member and award winner, Gordon Kirkland; and Got MILF? By Sarah Winer Maizes.

New blogs include, Lighten Up! By Dawn Weber, The Medicare Mom by Jody Worsham, Barb's Blast by EBWW award winner Barb Best, Health and Humor by faculty member and comedian Dave Glardon, and The Energy Writer by Sharon Dillon. You can find links to those at the bottom of this page.

If I missed anyone, I apologize, feel free to pat yourself on the back in the "comments" section.

Like I was thinking this morning, there are another 12 months to go and we all got the mojo - you ain’t seen nothing yet!

National Columnists' Day Celebrates Ernie Pyle (1900 – 1945)

2011-04-16T18:13:00.001+01:00

“The anniversary of the April 18, 1945 death of the great Ernie Pyle is a time to reflect on the way newspaper columnists connect, educate, comfort, encourage, celebrate, outrage and occasionally even amuse readers and a time to express appreciation for them for their hard work.” ~ National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC) April 18, 1995.

And work hard Ernie Pyle did, crunching out 1,000-word essays six days-a-week non-stop for 10 years, until his untimely death on the front line in 1945.

Since this is a humor blog, I chose to honor Ernie Pyle by posting a column that he wrote about the famous cartoonist, Bill Mauldin, in 1944. I remember seeing those Willie and Joe cartoons for the first time, while leafing through some old Life Magazines. I saved a few of them for inspiration.

Bill Mauldin, Cartoonist
by Ernie Pyle

IN ITALY, January 15, 1944 – Sgt. Bill Mauldin appears to us over here to be the finest cartoonist the war has produced. And that’s not merely because his cartoons are funny, but because they are also terribly grim and real.

Mauldin’s cartoons aren’t about training-camp life, which you at home are best acquainted with. They are about the men in the line – the tiny percentage of our vast army who are actually up there in that other world doing the dying. His cartoons are about the war.

Mauldin’s central cartoon character is a soldier, unshaven, unwashed, unsmiling. He looks more like a hobo than like your son. He looks, in fact, exactly like a doughfoot who has been in the lines for two months. And that isn’t pretty.

Mauldin’s cartoons in a way are bitter. His work is so mature that I had pictured him as a man approaching middle age. Yet he is only twenty-two, and he looks even younger. He himself could never have raised the heavy black beard of his cartoon dogface. His whiskers are soft and scant, his nose is upturned good-naturedly, and his eyes have a twinkle.
His maturity comes simply from a native understanding of things, and from being a soldier himself for a long time. He has been in the Army three and a half years.
*
Bill Mauldin was born in Mountain Park, New Mexico. He now calls Phoenix home base, but we of New Mexico could claim him without much resistance on his part. Bill has drawn ever since he was a child. He always drew pictures of the things he wanted to grow up to be, such as cowboys and soldiers, not realizing that what he really wanted to become was a man who draws pictures. He graduated from high school in Phoenix at seventeen, took a year at the Academy of Fine Arts in Chicago, and at eighteen was in the Army. He did sixty-four days on KP duty in his first four months. That fairly cured him of a lifelong worship of uniforms.

Mauldin belongs to the 45th Division. Their record has been a fine one, and their losses have been heavy. Mauldin’s typical grim cartoon soldier is really a 45th Division infantryman, and he is one who has truly been through the mill.

Mauldin was detached from straight soldier duty after a year in the infantry, and put to work on the division’s weekly paper. His true war cartoons started in Sicily and have continued on through Italy, gradually gaining recognition. Capt. Bob Neville, Stars and Stripes editor, shakes his head with a veteran’s admiration and says of Mauldin: "He’s got it. Already he’s the outstanding cartoonist of the war."
*
Mauldin works in a cold, dark little studio in the back of Stars and Stripes’ Naples office. He wears silver-rimmed glasses when he works. His eyes used to be good, but he damaged them in his early Army days by drawing for too many hours at night with poor light.

He averages about three days out of ten at the front, then comes back and draws up a large batch of cartoons. If the weather is good he sketches a few details at the front. But the weather is usually lousy.

"You don’t need to sketch details anyhow," he says. "You come back with a picture of misery and cold and danger in your mind and you don’t need any more details than that."

His cartoon in Stars and Stripes is headed "Up Front . . . By Mauldin." The other day some soldier wrote in a nasty letter asking what the hell did Mauldin know about the front.

Stars and Stripes printed the letter. Beneath it in italics they printed a short editor’s note: "Sgt. Bill Mauldin received the Purple Heart for wounds received while serving in Italy with Pvt. Blank’s own regiment." That’s known as telling ‘em.
*
Bill Mauldin is a rather quiet fellow, a little above medium size. He smokes and swears a little and talks frankly and pleasantly. He is not eccentric in any way.

Even though he’s just a kid he’s a husband and father. He married in 1942 while in camp in Texas, and his son was born last August 20 while Bill was in Sicily. His wife and child are living in Phoenix now. Bill carries pictures of them in his pocketbook.

Unfortunately for you and Mauldin both, the American public has no opportunity to see his daily drawings. But that isn’t worrying him. He realizes this is his big chance.

After the war he wants to settle again in the Southwest, which he and I love. He wants to go on doing cartoons of these same guys who are now fighting in the Italian hills, except that by then they’ll be in civilian clothes and living as they should be.

Ernie Pyle
~~~
Source: "Ernie's War: The Best of Ernie Pyle's World War II Dispatches," edited by David Nichols, pp. 197-99. Pictures courtesy of The Lilly Library, Indiana University, Bloomington, Indiana
*
To learn more about the National Society of Newspaper Columnists and National Columnists' Day, click here: NSNC

Federal Conclave – Black or White Smoke?

2011-04-07T15:56:00.007+01:00

Amid the cherry blossoms, House Speaker John Boehner has called a conclave similar to electing a new Pope to approve the Spending Bill. Will the emitting smoke be black or white?

Scheduled to be closed are National Parks, museums, monuments, and passport services; so. If you want to see the cherry blossoms or get a passport, get a move on.

About 800,000 government workers will be furloughed, which should make clogged traffic arteries a living nightmare, if you see black smoke. The Woodrow Wilson Bridge will be bumper-to-bumper, making you want to jump into the Potomac; and prison inmates will be called in to pick up the slack, so watch your wallets.

Our deployed troops might not get paid on time, adding incoming fighter jets and bazookas into the mix, and a Million Man March of senior citizens want their checks.

Bo, the Portuguese Water Dog, is worried that Obama will cut his favorite Nylabone treats, Michelle is on a “No Bonpoint” ration, and Boehner has suggested that the Obama’s sign up for a Sam’s Club membership, which is also agreeable with his campaign manager.

Cerritos’ stepped in and suggested that the President’s VIP Lincoln be replaced with something more frugal…

NPR begged Congress not to cut funding:

The President was sent into rehab after giving a college student a new car:

Then, FINALLY, Senator "Motor Mouth" Sanders showed up in his Batmobile to lambaste Bernanke:

Pray People!
Rosie

Watch Bald Eagles Hatch (Live VIDEO)

2011-04-05T16:38:00.001+01:00

From the Raptor Resource Project in Decorah, Iowa, you can watch these pips hatch:

The Ustream link has all the videos taken since March 31, 2011 and a "live" broadcast:

CLICK HERE

These videos have been going viral today. Check back often.

Enjoy!
Rosie

Peter Nero & Philly Pops vs. South Philly Steak Wars

2011-04-03T18:20:00.020+01:00

Yesterday, I went to see the Peter Nero and the Philly Pops’ performance of “Music and Comedy” at the Kimmel Center in Philadelphia; it was flawless. My daughter went with me. She got the seats up on Tier 3 and we were getting rather air sick. A docent from the Avenue of the Arts was handing out samples of Dramamine and hawking tickets to see "Mary Poppins." The next time we attend, my daughter promised orchestra seats. You should put this one on your “to do” list, while visiting Philadelphia. The best seats are in Tier 1.

Comedian, Robert Klein, was featured during the second half and gave a dynamite performance. His humor appeals to the over 50 crowd and he nailed it every time. This YouTube video is representative of one of the classics he did at the Kimmel Center:

After the show, we were laughing so hard, we decided to go to South Philadelphia and catch the steak wars on South 9th Street at Geno’s and Pat’s.

If you are a native Philadelphian, you are aware of the famous steak wars. If not, it’s a blast. They are the Tommy and Dickey Smothers of South Philly “Mom Always Liked You Best.” They are rivals on opposite corners at 9th and Passyunk Avenue, in the Italian Market area, but not actually related. I think Geno is a "come here" from Palermo.

Flip a coin and go to either Geno’s or Pat’s to order a scrumptious steak sandwich. You know you are at the right corner, when you see two lines of about 100 people wrapped around two buildings flipping the bird at each other. You can also split your group in half and go to both establishments, share the sandwiches, and decide for yourselves, which one has the best Philly steak. I like them both, but lean towards Pat’s.

At Pat’s there is a sign that tells you “How to Order a Steak.” It would make even Robert Benchley proud. If you don’t get it right, you must go to the back of the line and start over. I took a picture of it, so you can memorize the routine.

Geno’s? Well, you can tell by the flashy colors, he had to work at getting attention; Mom didn’t always like him best. At night, the bright neon signs have actually lured several Boeing 747 Jumbo Jets away from International Airport that were trying to land in Philadelphia.

"Hello, this is your Captain speaking. Upon our approach, our left engine just sucked up twenty wit from Geno's. Nothing to be alarmed about."

As you can see, we had a fun time at both events in Philadelphia.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

What Are You Doing Tonight?

2011-04-01T07:02:00.001+01:00

Tonight, I have a BlogTalkRadio interview scheduled with Giovanni Gelati at 7:00 PM EDST. I'd like you to be there. Giovanni publishes the popular Gelati’s Scoop and my book is among the “Top 25 Self-Published Books for 2010” on his website. We will be discussing humor, writing, and my book - Sitting on Cold Porcelain. Click here for details - Gelati's Scoop on BlogTalkRadio

If you miss it, here is the link to the MP3 Click here

If you enjoy a funny read, Sitting on Cold Porcelain is available at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Better World Books, the order desk of your local bookstore, and some public libraries. If your local library does not carry it yet, ask them to order a copy from the publisher, Xlibris. I made autographed copies available here on my website (see the left panel). There has been a large number of Kindle and Nook users requesting the book, so it is available in electronic format, as well. Click here to order it from The Kindle Store, or at Barnes and Noble’s Nook Store.

Relax and tune in to BlogTalkRadio this Friday night in the comfort of your own home. Spread the word to your social networking friends. We will all have a great time!

Rosie

How Not to Sweat the Small Stuff

2011-03-28T16:42:00.017+01:00

By Rose A. Valenta

Uncle Harry was in his yard cussing out the local geese that had left their greetings on his patio right next to his favorite morning coffee chair. He stepped on one of them in his bare feet and yelled “Oh, horsesh*t!” while losing half of his espresso. If I was VanGogh, I could name the color combination of goose logs mixed with espresso a “happy sienna” that matched the wicker furniture; so, not to worry, it was still in keeping with Harry’s idea of Feng Shui.

“I don’t think that’s what it is, Harry, or you would be feeling lucky in between your toes and out buying Powerball tickets.” I smiled. I always get sadistic pleasure watching Harry lose his temper before breakfast. It makes my day.

“Why isn’t it goose season?” He complained. “I’m going to get those sumbitches with my 12-gauge on opening day.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” I said. “There’s a cobra loose in the Bronx this morning. They already have Judge Napolitano profiling him and discussing his rights. He is charmed by listening to Endgame and Deadlies, hates Foo Fighters.”

“I don’t want to hear your ‘sweating small stuff’ lecture this morning,” he said, handing me a paper towel smeared with happy sienna.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said. “Say, do cobras eat geese?”

“No, but the snake could serve as your hit man for at least five of them.”

“Awww, they'll probably catch him after he bites somebody in the ass on the #2 train. So, what else is new?”

“Charlie Sheen is bringing ‘warlock napalm’ on Denise Richards via Twitter this morning, and Ed Bassmaster is running for President on YouTube.”

“What’s his platform?”

“Well, will you look at that?” I answered.

“Look at what?”

“Just look at it.” I said.

“I’ve seen goose turds before, you’re not funny”

“Just look at it.”

“If you say that one more time, I’m going to have to hurt you,” he said.

I had my laptop on the patio and quickly looked Ed up on YouTube. He was out campaigning. He wasn’t kissing babies. I turned it around, so Harry could see for himself. “Just look at it!“ I said, while I turned up the volume and ducked.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

When the Whistle Blows it’s Abercrombie and Fitch

2011-03-27T07:21:00.011+01:00

Making headlines this week are Prince William and his chocolate and cookie groom cake request and raunchy bikinis for children in the Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. Guess who won the most media attention?

This is amazing to me, coming from the “Goodbye Mr. Chips” generation, but it’s progress, I guess.

Apparently, in England, traditional wedding cake recipes are those awful dreaded fruit cakes that we have grown to dislike in the US, to the point that even adding whiskey or rum doesn’t cut it anymore. Here, fruit cakes have dwindled down to the $2.99 individually shrink-wrapped variety sold in Staples and Office Max stores, so computer geeks won't die of starvation. However, it is still a big deal in England.

Prince William has told Kate, his bride-to-be, that he can’t stand fruit cake and if they want to remain happily married, he wants his very own groom cake made with 17 kilos of chocolate and 1,700 McVitie “Rich Tea” cookies. Click here to read the Royal decree: Groom cake

While all this was going on, Abercrombie and Fitch was feeling rather left out of the limelight, so it introduced a line of risqué bikinis for young adults. Some of whom are only in the second grade. They were pitching the Jane Russell-type tops to young women, who are still in the development stage. Click here to read that fiasco Designer Bikini

I suppose Abercrombie’s head designer came home from work worn out one day, to find his 8-year-old daughter stuffing her T-top with rolled up socks, trying to look like Barbie; but not even thinking about what was running through Ken’s mind, when a light bulb went on and found another GE loophole. Yes, it's the same company that made headlines with a white t-shirt depicting Chinese laundry workers wearing conical hats saying "Wong Brothers Laundry Service: Two Wongs Can Make It White." I feel sorry for the guy. If he had been praying to Francis de Sales, the patron saint of writer’s block, that would never have happened.

When the smoke cleared from this week’s headlines, Abercrombie won hands down and some misguided toddler over in Liverpool was caught humping plush toys in Lewis’ Department Store. However, since the offense is not currently listed in Scotland Yard's handbook, it was ignored.

This is a bit scary, isn’t it? The Prince and Kate will be married on April 29, 2011. By September of 2019, they are destined to have a Royal heir in the second grade.

What will become of “Goodby Mr. Chips,” “Pippi Longstocking,” and “The Adventures of Taxi Dog;” while Abercrombie plays Rod Stewart's "If You Think I'm Sexy" out on the children's catwalk?

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Is it Official Harry Houdini is Dead?

2011-03-24T09:25:00.001Z

The Internet has gone berserk since the announcement that NASA plans to hold a press conference regarding the existence of extraterrestrials.

My Uncle Harry swears they will find out that the alleged alien is really ghostbuster, Harry Houdini, returning to Queens, NY, after traveling the universe trying to find his way back. He is convinced that the light NASA saw in its telescope flickered Morse Code that spelled “Rosabelle.”

Of course, you can’t believe everything Harry says, especially after he drank a whole bottle of champagne anticipating getting Houdini’s first postmortem autograph.

“Imagine what it will sell for on eBay!” Harry bellowed.

“Harry, I don’t think champagne mixes well with your Viagra. The blood rush has gone to your head.” I said.

“Oh, shut up!” He responded, as he frantically Googled all the latest news on NASA.

“Look at this,” he said, “Some fool thinks that NASA will make some announcement about one of Saturn’s moons. I got a moon right here.” He patted his butt with a smirk on his face.

“You’re both fools, if you ask me,” I said. “No way it’s Houdini either! It’s probably a hoax by NASA hoping that it gets more funding to find creatures like E.T.”

“Everybody knows E.T. isn’t real,” Harry said.

“Yes, and everybody also knows that Houdini has really been dead for 85 years and hasn’t phoned home. Not even once!”

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he said, while humming the subtitles from Houdini’s ‘The Man From Beyond.’

“Maybe Steven Spielberg should start funding NASA,” I said.

“I found it!” Harry jubilantly exclaimed.

“Found what?” I asked.

“NASA’s mysterious light.”

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

An Interview with Carla Malden

2011-03-21T17:09:00.004Z

Recently, I was contacted by Charlie Barrett of The Barrett Company asking if I wanted to interview Carla Malden, daughter of the late Academy Award-winning actor, Karl Malden, who has written a compelling love story and memoir, Afterimage: A Brokenhearted Memoir of a Charmed Life.

I have been submitting articles for syndication at Senior Wire and Associated Content for Yahoo and he is representing Carla, who lost her husband to cancer four years ago. Okay, so I’m a humor writer, but this request hit home for me, as my own daughter was diagnosed with cancer when she was only 16 years old. However, thanks to the wonderful doctors at University of Pennsylvania Hospital, who also had a practice at the Police and Fireman’s clinic in Philadelphia, and three years of chemo treatments, she made a full recovery. I will be forever grateful for this miracle in my life and the beautiful grandchildren that she has since given to me and my husband.

Carla’s book and her account of losing her husband, Laurence Starkman, I’m sure, will be helpful to anyone going through similar circumstances. It is so well written, that you can’t possibly put it down or come away from it without getting a little something personal.

I was more than willing to put aside the blog for a few days and speak with Carla. She was a pleasure to interview and has a terrific daughter, Cami, who has set up a fan page on Facebook for her Mother’s book, Afterimage.

The interview is posted at Associated Content from Yahoo. You can read it by clicking on this link: Carla Malden Discusses Her Personal Tragedy in 'Afterimage'

I hope you will read the interview and buy the book when it is released in May 2011. Carla's publicist is Charlie Barrett. He can be contacted via his website www.thebarrettco.com.

Upcoming Event on BlogTalkRadio with Giovanni Gelati

2011-03-20T23:09:00.002Z

As part of my virtual book tour last month with Pump Up Your Book., I was interviewed on “A Book and a Chat” by host, Barry Eva. You can still click on this link BlogTalkRadio to listen; or click on this link for a FREE MP3 Download.

On Friday night, April 1, 2011, you are cordially invited to another BlogTalkRadio interview at 7:00 PM EDST with Giovanni Gelati, who will be interviewing me on Gelati’s Scoop GZONE, click here: Gelati’s Scoop. You will enjoy Giovanni. He reads and reviews thousands of books each year and writes about them on his blog Gelati's Scoop: http://gelatisscoop.blogspot.com

Please mark your calendar and listen to the show. Thanks in advance.
Rosie

Sitting on Cold Porcelain is available at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble online, Better World Books, and the order desk of your local book store. Electronically, you can order it for your Kindle, Nook, and other eBook readers. Autographed copies are available here at Rosie Renegade Humor Blog. You can also get the blog at the Kindle Store.

Uncle Harry Backs Mike Huckabee

2011-03-18T10:40:00.004Z

This morning, I was lamenting over whether or not to deep six the wilted poinsettia, or try to revive it with water mixed with a crushed power bar. My house smelled of peat moss and I was looking forward to digging up my current stash, including the Amaryllis that didn’t bloom because a mouse ate half the bulb and half-a-bag of dry stuffing for Thanksgiving dinner. Its still too early to get the garden going - frustrating!.

I looked out the kitchen window at my deceased clematis and sorry looking herb garden, while mentally planning planting season. Last fall, I went to the town dock begging for fish heads from the Watermen to use for fertilizer. I had to bribe one of them with some hand sanitizer and several empty Wal-Mart bags. As a result of holding funeral services for some sea bass heads and several small sandsharks, my Rosemary now stands out from the moldy sage like a giant Christmas green Japanese Yew.

I was rudely interrupted from my strategy plan by Uncle Harry, who was still wearing flip-flops, making divots in my yard even though it was only 50 degrees outside. I mentally ripped the darn things with my garden sheers, as he hot-footed on soggy soil over to my house hoping for free food and coffee. I can’t break him out of the flip-flop habit no matter how hard I try – not even with politics, about which he is unnervingly obsessed. My mind is never on politics, his? - always.

“I already like Mike Huckabee's political strategy. He writes a book ‘A Simple Government’ and launches it by saying ‘This is my entire platform.’ Of course the 800-pound gorilla in the room is Obama's $1 billion political campaign budget; but, who would you rather have balancing our check book? While Obama goes out and kisses babies at $129.95 a pop, Mike does it on a book tour at 75% off,” he blurted out, as he almost knocked me over at the back door.

After regaining his footing, he added "Do you think Obama will skip the country entirely and become a citizen of Rio, or are they just going there so Bo the Portuguese Water Dog can get laid?"

“Not again, Harry,” I interrupted. “If I have to listen to another one of your political rants this morning, I’ll need a barf bag. By-the-way, oatmeal and farina are your only choices for breakfast. The local market only had pale blue eggs with fleurs-de-lis stampings on them that read ‘Who Dat?’ so I assumed they were either a year old already because the Saints won last year, or the rooster was questionable, so I didn’t buy any.”

“Lookie here,” he said. “I downloaded a newspaper on my Kindle and it has an interview with Huckabee. This is what I’m sayin’ the whole time. This guy knows how to budget.”

“Look a little further,” I said. “He’s also against gay marriage and anything that ain’t Baptist.”

“So, what, did you jump the fence or something?” He responded sarcastically.

“No, it’s just that a President needs to address ALL the citizens, not just half.”

“You voting for Obama?” He was shocked.

“No, I’m voting for an objective candidate and haven’t made up my mind yet. If Huckabee sees the light outside of Arkansas into a multi-cultural society of taxpayers, I might vote for him. Right now, I’m debating whether to impose capital punishment on my poinsettias, put my Rosemary on a no fish diet, and/or separate my over-sexed gladiolus bulbs before Sunday.”

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Hey Schifoso! Charlie Sheen

2011-03-08T13:44:00.020Z

"How much cocaine did Charlie Sheen Snort? Enough to kill Two and a Half Men."

If you have been following the Charlie Sheen meltdown, you have already seen these Ustream TV videos; if not, then you can see them via this link: Ustream Videos

Holy guacamole!

I’d love to buy a ticket to a shrink convention, so I could hear the candid comments by experts. As a novice, I can only assume that his family and real friends are waiting for him to bottom out, so he can get the help he needs to get back to reality. If not, they are being sadistic.

For God’s sake, somebody! Please pull the plug on his camera and audio equipment and get him off Ustream! It’s just too painful to watch. He needs to stay out of the limelight for at least a year until he gets hold of himself and unloads the leaches.

We were sitting around drinking coffee the other night discussing the situation. However, we work nine to five jobs and can’t even imagine earning $2 million in 20 years, let alone a week. This is something genius Charlie doesn’t take into consideration. The majority of his fans are middle class. We work to provide the basic necessities for our families, pay our rent and mortgages, and a car that gets good gas mileage. When we want to be entertained, we watch something ridiculous, like Two and a Half Men. I say “ridiculous” because very few people perceive it as real life. For that, you would have only one fan – Hugh Heffner and he worked his ass off publishing Playboy; not a book of dark poetry - that was Poe. The economy is getting so bad; Poe’s biggest fan even stopped leaving a half-bottle of tequila at his grave site in Baltimore, on his birthday.

If someone offered us an acting job like Two and a Half Men for $2 million an episode, I don’t think any of us would refer to the producer as “Whatshiscock” on an international public forum and expect not to get fired. After taking a poll, at least one fan would wear a silly shirt; memorize the script; and shammy the boss’ Ferrari. So, Charlie should shut up already!

Charlie, this is coming from fans, who buy the products that support your habit:
Today is International Woman’s Day. The days of exploiting Goddesses and beating one’s wife are truly over. It’s passé, gone with the wind, a Bela Lugosi “I want to suck your blood” shtick; and he got so wrapped up in his role that he was buried in a Dracula cape.

Your enemies are enjoying the meltdown. Here is how to get even - sensibly: Don’t give them the satisfaction of falling apart in public. Get off the stage and do it in private. This way, they won’t have the satisfaction of knowing they got to you, “winning” right? Then, sign into rehab and get better. After that, Show’em! Sign up with another network sober and drug free, and star in a bigger sitcom than "Two and a Half Men," as Carlos Estevez. If you do that, all of your fans will be in your corner, your old boss will be crying in his Glenfiddich Rare Collection 1937 Scotch, and the weirdoes will leave the building. Plan better!

I have to go now, the price of gas just went up ten cents a gallon, my tuna casserole is burning, and I’m at Mickey D’s using their free Wi-Fi connection drinking a $1.59 container of coffee, which is stretching my budget, since I can buy the same stuff for $8.99 a pound at Sam’s Club. If I had $2 million I'd steal the Fruitcake Lady's old job (may she rest in peace) and my kids would be going to Harvard.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Philadelphia Flower Show 2011 ‘Springtime in Paris’

2011-03-07T14:50:00.018Z

It was a crowded opening day at the Philadelphia Flower Show yesterday. “Bonjour, Bonjour” the greeters said happily as we entered the newly expanded Pennsylvania Convention Center. The theme this year is “Springtime in Paris.” Everyone was in a jovial mood. No birds were flipped when people bumped into each other. It was “excuse me” and “behind you,” or “sorry.”

You have to give credit where credit is due. Thanks to Philadelphia’s Finest, we got there and back – safely! The Philadelphia Police Department has become a team of efficiency experts. I guess they have learned since the Phillies won the World Series. Notice how clean the streets are and no grease on the utility poles. Of course the Poppy Growers of America were not exhibiting this year and that helped:

I have an album on Facebook with more images. If you want to see them, send me a friend request. We had a fantastic time. We bought fresh cut flowers and wine. No DUIs guys, we took the train.

Are you ready for Mardi Gras? Whoo-hoo!
Rosie

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Humor: The Mighty Mojo

2011-03-05T06:57:00.007Z

As long as I can remember, I have enjoyed reading and writing humor. I think everyone enjoys a good laugh and deservedly so. Almost on a daily basis, we face all sorts of events that nibble away at our initial good mood. You wake up in the morning feeling pretty, maybe sing in the shower, remember something funny the kids did to make you smile last night - then it starts: rush hour traffic, road rage, unpleasant news reports, crowded coffee shops, and your daily routine on the job. If that isn’t enough, the company café has a lousy selection for lunch; so, you resort to eating a mundane salad; you find that you are overdrawn in your checking account by $30.00; and at 5:00 PM, it’s rush hour again. When you get home, the evening news is filled with doom and gloom and the kids need to be motivated to complete homework assignments.

What's dominating the news?

The kids tell you that BrainyQuote's database has crashed because Charlie Sheen has been posting messages on Twitter that say things like "@charliesheen Don't judge me until you've walked a mile in my shoes, snorted a mile of my coke, drank a vial of my #Tigerblood."

You Google "news" to get away from the TV and find that Mother Jones suggests that the amniotic fluid surrounding Georgia State Representative Bobby Franklin was contaminated by chemically sprayed peaches while he was still in the womb, causing the fetus to develop into a thing of misogyny.

The latest gossip at Wiki is the fact that Joe Biden does not currently have any Delaware schools named after him, though there is an erosion control method in Delaware's Cape Henlopen State Park bearing his name.

The icing on the cake?

According to Glenn Beck, God is now allowing dead soldiers to haunt Westboro Pastor Fred Phelps at 1,000 feet over his head, with "God Hates You, Phelps" aerial banners.

You, my friend, need a good chuckle. Why? The weekend looms ahead and you already know what to expect. The kids are home from school and a fist fight will break out, your DIY project is waiting, and Murphy’s Law is always alive and well at your house - breeding offspring. Sometimes I believe the more free time we have on our hands, the harder Murphy’s reproductive system works. You have to turn the tables, or else!

In my case, I wait until the crisis is over and write satire about it here on Rosie’s Renegade Humor Blog. You can also read humor books and blogs that address the conflicts you face, but with a funny twist. If you do that often enough, you will actually lighten up and see that humor really is the mighty mojo.

While my humor book, Sitting on Cold Porcelain, is designed to address myriad topics with a funny twist to entertain you, humor blogs have been underrated. There are hundreds of them that you can sneak read with your iPad or Kindle at work. Trust me, it will lighten your load.

Because of my humor writing, I have met the folks, who write some of the popular humor blogs. I have made friends with them on Facebook and have linked the best ones at the bottom of this blog page under "Short Stories and Links," so you can enjoy them also.

Just to name a few, we have a school teacher from Texas, Jody Worsham, who is retired and has adopted two children in recent years. She writes a blog called The Medicare Mom. You will love her mature witty take on motherhood. Marti Lawrence, a caregiver from Missouri, is very entertaining and writes Enter the Laughter. Wanda Argersinger is a Director of the Lupus Support Network, she loves to write humor books on motivation and authors a blog called Life in the Land of Confusion. The Director of the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop, Matt DeWald, writes My Five-Minute Commute. Our baby boomer dad, Jerry Zezima, is a very funny guy. He just released a book called Leave it to Boomer and his blog is also linked at the bottom of this page. If you are really feeling down, Dawn Weber’s blog Lighten Up is for you. Please check them all out. You will get more than a few chuckles.

© 2010, Valenta, All rights reserved.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

The Male Mystique

2011-03-03T14:33:00.004Z

Men are easy to love and understand. They look at life simplistically and competitively. Take for instance the Tom Paxton song “My Dog's Bigger Than Your Dog,” it depicts how most American men grow up:

My dog's bigger than your dog,
My dog's bigger than yours,
My dog's bigger
And he chases mailmen,
My dog's bigger than yours,

My dog's better than your dog,
My dog's better than yours,
His name is King,
And he had puppies,
My dog's better than yours.

My dad's tougher than your dad,
My dad's tougher than yours,
My dad's tougher
And he yells louder and
My dad's tougher than yours.

My dad's louder than your dad,
My dad's louder than yours,
Momma buys a new dress,
Daddy makes noises,
My dad's louder than yours.

Our car's faster than your car,
Our car's faster than yours,
It has a louder horn,
It bumps other cars,
Our car's faster than yours.

Our car's older than your car,
Our car's older than yours,
It stops running and Daddy kicks the fenders,
Our car's older than yours.

My Mom's older than your Mom,
My Mom's older than yours,
She takes smelly baths
She hides the gray hairs
My Mom's older than yours.

My Mom's funnier than your Mom,
My Mom's funnier than yours,
Her hair is pretty and
It changes colors,
My Mom's funnier than yours.

The problem starts after they grow up, become successful, and have a family. Then, they get to have the sexiest babies. If I didn’t know better I’d swear that during their formative years, these little boys stood in the Toys R Us doll section after school, in the springtime, with thoughts that lightly turned to procreation, makeup, and Princess Rosella. In the back of their minds – competition!

If you are the type of woman, who still shops for your daughter in the Easy Bake Oven section of Toys R Us, you must understand that the way to a man’s heart is no longer through his stomach. She absolutely has to marry a man, who can cook or afford to eat out. If you put your husband in charge of the sewing machine, a movie camera, and your kid, this is what to expect:

Video ©2011 Jimmy Kimmel Live! and staged for this interview with Tom Hanks.

‘No Hazmat’ Includes Transporting Sasquatch

2011-03-03T05:09:00.003Z

“A bachelor never quite gets over the idea that he is a thing of beauty and a boy forever.”~ Helen Rowland

CNN recently reported on the continued search for Sasquatch, The Abominable Snowman. Uncle Harry was at my house reading the same story in the local newspaper. He was so tickled by the large Sasquatch footprint photograph that he cut it out and hung it on my refrigerator with tape, waiting for a reaction from Uncle Dick, who was expected to arrive for dinner any minute. These two senior bachelors in my life like to prank each other and have never quite grown up into manhood.

Apparently, way back when Christ was a Corporal and the two of them attended their Senior Prom, Harry’s date Matilda earned the nickname “Sasquatch” when she poured her size 22 self into a size 18 ½ brown chenille A-line gown, complete with large gaudy feathered accessories, for the Prom.

They traveled to the dance in an old Ford Roadster. Matilda weighing in at 240 lbs. had to literally back into the car to get into position for the seat. Dick’s date looked more like Olive Oyl, in her size 5 spinach-green Edwardian-style gown.

After Harry finished waltzing Matilda and before the night was over, she had literally punctured the floorboard in the Ford with her high-heels. Harry swore that there was no necking room inside the car and that he had to stretch like a deer forging for figs, to reach her face in the moon light. He noticed that you could actually see the dirt road whizzing by though the holes in the floorboard on the way home. So, he went to the local bakery and talked the head baker into selling him a sheet pan to cover the damaged floor in the car. The next day, he and Dick repaired the floor and hid the pan with a throw-rug.

Dick told him that he should seriously consider dating thinner women, but Harry wouldn’t listen. In later years, Dick would tell Harry that all those “No Hazmat” signs on the highway were there because of his old dates, rotted floorboards, and general taste in women. As I recall, Harry’s first wife actually did look like an Abominable Snowman in her wedding dress. Her maid of honor wore a gown that rivaled Tula’s bridesmaids in “My Big Fat Greek Wedding.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Dick came in with a bottle of Chardonnay that he promptly put in the refrigerator. He immediately saw the photograph of the alleged Sasquatch footprint.

“Harry, you never told me that you took Tildy out for barefoot walk on the beach on Prom night,” he said. They had me laughing all night.

I’ve never been quite sure if Helen Rowland, author of The Rubaiyat of a Bachelor, actually knew my Uncles Harry and Dick.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here
To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Punked by The Royal Wedding

2011-02-27T13:27:00.014Z

This morning I made a pot of Southern Pecan coffee. I went shopping at the Italian Market yesterday and couldn’t resist going over budget at Fante’s. It’s my treat when I do something rewarding, like clean the lint filter in the dryer rather than spend $50 calling the repairman because it took two hours to dry clothes. I was making pancakes when Uncle Harry stopped to smell the coffee out by my air dryer, which was sporting a pair of tied mis-matched tennis shoes, and invited himself to breakfast.

“Good morning!” I said.

“What’s good about it?” he responded. “I didn’t get an invitation to the Royal Wedding.”

“You, Obama, and Fergie.” I said.

“Obama I can understand,” he said. “But, I didn’t return a gift from the Queen.”

“Wrong size?” I asked.

“No, wrong patriot,” he said.

“I even wrote a letter to The Queen’s Man, The Lord Chamberlain, and told him how much I have always admired Sir Winston Churchill. I have all of his books and a print of one of his paintings. They sent all the invitations out last week, but I didn’t get mine. Do you have a shot of Kahlua to go with the coffee?”

“You’re serious!”

“Damn straight, I am. I also included a photo of Duchess of York that I had drawn a mustache on with a Sharpie along with my letter. I captioned it 'Would you buy an Open Door Policy from this woman?”

“Harry! You’re lucky that they didn’t send Scotland Yard over here looking for you. What were you thinking?”

“I was discussing an outing with Dick. He gave me two choices, The Royal Wedding or the Cherry Blossom Festival in DC. I’ve already seen the cherry blossoms. In fact, we both got sloshed one night and I woke up under a cherry tree, the one nearest the Potomac, waterlogged with a horrible headache. Dick went to London yesterday, from Toronto with a young male stripper, keeping up his end of the bargain.”

“So, you think harassing The Lord Chamberlain with another Lord Peel is going to get you out of a trip to DC? What have you been smoking?”

Just then, the phone rang. It was Scotland Yard. They had arrested Uncle Dick in London for lewd behavior on a street corner and wanted to know in which village he belonged:

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Toga, Toga, Toga!

2011-02-25T15:38:00.001Z

Join me tonight at the Pump Up Your Book’s February 2011 Facebook Party where I will be giving away a copy of Sitting on Cold Porcelain!

Here are the details:

What: Pump Up Your Book’s February 2011 Facebook Party

When: 9 – 11 p.m. eastern time (adjust to your time zone)

Where: Facebook Virtual Book Tour Party

Please read the instructions on the party page to find out how to join, what authors are participating and what prizes will be given away.

See you there!

Rosie

A Book and a Chat

2011-02-22T16:46:00.008Z

Tonight at 6:30 PM EST, you can tune into BlogTalkRadio and listen to my half-hour interview with Barry Eva on his show “A Book and a Chat.” It is a call in show, so please participate, if you can.

Free MP3 Download

This is part of my two-month virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book.

Then, on Friday night, February 25th, you are cordially invited to an exciting Facebook party with 10 authors, including me, who are also participating in the Pump Up Your Book virtual tour. The festivities begin at 9:00 PM EST. If you have a Facebook account, please "Like" the group page Pump Up Your Book Party. Then, you will be able to chat online with us.

Please join the fun. Thanks in advance.
Rosie

Sitting on Cold Porcelain is available at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble online, Better World Books, and the order desk of your local book store. Electronically, you can order it for your Kindle, Nook, and other eBook readers. Autographed copies are available here at Rosie Renegade Humor Blog. You can also get the blog at the Kindle Store.

A 'Little Chicago' Story

2011-02-20T16:35:00.006Z

When I was growing up, I used to spend most of my summers visiting my Grandmother in Olean, NY. If you have never heard of Olean, it is a great little community just over the State line from Bradford, PA. It was also a major bootlegging stop during Prohibition. In the 1920s, the press nicknamed the town "Little Chicago" because of its connection with organized crime, bootleggers, and Al Capone, who often visited there.

My Grandparents were born and raised near Olean, before 1900. They married in Olean and raised seven children there. Unfortunately, Grandma was widowed young and had to obtain a position as a baker at The Olean House, an upscale hotel, to support her children. She was well-known in the community for her expertise at baking the best cakes and pies. Whether she ever baked an Italian Rum Cake for Capone, she never said. She always brought baked goods to family gatherings and often donated recipes to church cookbooks that were being produced for charity.

I was her youngest granddaughter and she took me under her wing in the kitchen. It was a lost cause, however, because even a simple thing like cupcakes turned out like hockey pucks when I tried to make them. I remember once, she actually stood over my shoulder while she dictated a cake recipe. It was one of her famous orange Bundt cakes with orange glaze. Sure enough, it came out of the oven like a paper weight. It had risen less than an inch. I wrote an essay about it in my book, Sitting on Cold Porcelain, called “Thanksgiving Plans – Remember the Titanic.”

I got married in Philadelphia, Grandma retired from the Olean House, and we visited regularly. She was still sharp as a tack at 90 years old. She managed to take several solo trips to Florida to visit her younger sister before she passed in 1978.

Somehow, during that time, a light bulb went on in my head and I learned how to cook. I never did get the hang of baking a good cake, however, but there was Duncan Hines and the box cake only turned out lop-sided once. That’s when she put me wise to turning the tins upside down and icing the flat sides together.

I remember Grandma being very active at her Church. She was a member of the United Brethren Church and the Eastern Star. I think about her often during the holidays. So, it must have been ESP when I logged on to eBay just after Thanksgiving last year, and did a search for my grandmother’s name and “Olean,” because I found a church cookbook up for auction that she had contributed to almost 40 years ago. In it was a brown bread recipe with brown sugar, raisins, and nuts. I was thrilled. I’ll make my girls one of Grandma’s recipes for Christmas, I thought. Then, I groaned, remembering how it could turn out. Surprisingly, not bad!

My daughters are grown now and have children of their own. Two of them only have a vague recollection of visiting their Great Grandmother in Olean, but they know all about her from my stories. This past Christmas, they had a special gift from Great-Grandma that I would like to share with you. You can make it anytime for sandwiches as a delicious substitute for whole wheat. It is not sweet:

Millie Chappell’s Brown Bread

1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
3 cups buttermilk
2 cups flour
3 cups graham flour (order online, I can’t find it anywhere else)
4 tbsp. shortening (melted)
4 tbsp. molasses
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
Add raisins, nuts, or dates as desired. I used raisins and pecans.

Mix all of the dry ingredients together, except the brown sugar. In a separate bowl, mix all of the liquid ingredients and the sugar. Combine them both making a batter. Grease two bread tins and fill them slightly more than half full with the batter. Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for one hour. It makes two loaves… and all that jazz.

Yay! I’m Roxy Hart in the kitchen!

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Mark Your Calendar - You Are Invited!

2011-02-19T20:15:00.002Z

This is turning out to be an exciting week. On Tuesday, February 22nd, at 6:30 PM EST, I have a live call-in interview with Barry Eva on BlogTalkRadio’s “A Book and a Chat.” I hope you can join us for a fun half-hour. Click here for details BlogTalkRadio

On Friday night, February 25th, we are having a Facebook party with other authors on the Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour. If you have a Facebook account, click on this link and “like” the group page. You will then be able to chat with us. Festivities begin at 9:00 PM EST until 11:00 PM - Pump Up Your Book Party . You can ask questions during each author’s segment and will have a fun time.

My book Sitting on Cold Porcelain is available at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Better World Books, the order desk of your local bookstore, and some public libraries. If your local library does not carry it yet, ask them to order a copy from the publisher, Xlibris. I made autographed copies available here on my website (see the left panel). There has been a large number of Kindle and Nook users requesting the book, so it is available in electronic format, as well. Click here to order it from The Kindle Store, or at Barnes and Noble’s Nook Store.

On April 1st, I have another BlogTalkRadio interview scheduled with Giovanni Gelati at 7:00 PM EST. Giovanni publishes the popular Gelati’s Scoop and my book is among the “Top 25 Self-Published Books for 2010” on his website. Click here for details - Gelati's Scoop on BlogTalkRadio

Please attend these events, relax, and enjoy yourself in the comfort of your own home. We will all have a great time!

Rosie

Another Day in the Life of a Humor Columnist

2011-02-17T11:32:00.001Z

If you have been following my Sitting on Cold Porcelain virtual book tour that started on Monday, January 3rd, you will be pleased to know that the “Hot Author” interview made both the National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC) and Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop February newsletters.

Click here to read it INTERVIEW

Last week, I was thrilled to be among the top 10 semi-finalists for the Robert Benchley Society Award for Humor. The finalists are listed on the website - Robert Benchley Society News . The winner is Mike Tuck of Eden Prairie, Minnesota. Congratulations, Mike! Click here for details: Robert Benchley Society.

"We are constantly being surprised that people did things well before we were born." ~ Robert Benchley.

Today, an interview at Beyond the Books.

On Februray 22 and April 1st, I have a live interviews scheduled on BlogTalk Radio, details to follow. Stay tuned.

You can view my entire virtual book tour schedule here - Sitting on Cold Porcelain Book Tour . I posted several guest columns on different sites with live links on the tour schedule.

I want to thank all of you, who have been kind enough to visit the tour sites and leave comments. Enjoy the left-over Valentine treats - You rock!

Rosie

Dysfunctional Relationships and Bedlam!

2011-02-01T22:42:00.001Z

If you love to laugh, you need to read “It’s All Relative Two Families, Three Dogs, 34 Holidays, and 50 Boxes of Wine (A Memoir)” by Wade Rouse. It was released on February 1st by Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc. It is a compilation of hilarious essays that will have you ROTFYAO.

In his fourth book, Wade tackles family life and holidays and brings out the best in his dysfunctional and eccentric relatives. We all have them, right? Wade says that “Family is the gift that keeps on giving, no matter how much we wish they would stop.”

All of the holidays throughout the year are represented, even Swedish Day and a Pez Collector’s National Convention. My favorite is an essay where Wade and Gary meet up with a neighbor from hell and begin to fight over relationships and appropriate anniversary presents. Then, Wade tries to buy a new Honda Pilot from someone, who smells like Paloma Picasso, because it happens to be a “steel” (11th) anniversary in “So, a Gift Card to Trader Joe’s Isn’t Romantic?” His self-depreciating humor is priceless!

Wade Rouse is the critically acclaimed author of three other memoirs, America’s Boy, At Least in the City Someone Would Hear Me Scream, and Confessions of a Prep School Mommy Handler. He is a journalist and essayist whose articles have appeared in numerous regional and national publications. He contributed to the humorous essay collection about working in the retail industry, The Customer Is Always Wrong: The Retail Chronicles. This book was featured prominently on NPR and in The Wall Street Journal and includes pieces from other noted authors. He also taught a writing class to humorists at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop 2010. I attended his class and was amazed at his ability to get people to write about fear. I’m not talking Freddy Krueger or Michael Moore movies here, where people get chopped up or the government confiscates your first born child on celluloid; I’m talking the real deal. As a humorist, Wade believes that humor writers need to first write about and get rid of fear and inhibitions, find their “inner voice,” then get funny.

He was sneaky about it too. “What are you afraid of?” he asked, smiling. “Okay, now write that down.”

The class thinking it was a private exercise that we needed to do for ourselves, spilled our guts for 20 minutes on paper, hoping to burn it before ditching it somewhere near the University of Dayton’s incinerator.

So, what happens? Professor Rouse makes us read it out loud to the whole class! I coughed, and my inner voice squeaked “I have to go to the bathroom.” It was very similar to a Kathy Bates scene in “Fried Green Tomatoes.” You remember the one, before she became Towanda.

The Washington Post describes Wade as “An original writer and impressive new voice.” I can describe him as fascinating, funny, and talented. He has a great gift. You absolutely need to put this book on your “must read” list.

Wade is a graduate of Drury University and has a master’s from Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism. He lives near the coast of Lake Michigan with his partner, Gary, and their beloved mutts, Marge and Mable.

You can contact Wade and learn more about his books via his website, www.waderouse.com. Tell him Rosie sent you.

I Have a Crush on Manolo Suarez - 'House Divided'

2011-01-23T16:10:00.007Z

I’m putting humor aside for now, to tell you about a blockbuster in the making, which was written by my prolific friend and colleague, Raul Ramos Y Sanchez. He is an International Latino Book Award-winning author, who has written a best-selling trilogy.

The first release, America Libre was made available at bookstores in July 2009. It is an action-packed story of love, ethnic turmoil, and intrigue; plus the author adds deeply moving, thought-provoking commentary. I just read an advanced copy of the second book in the trilogy, House Divided. It is a page-turner that will keep you entertained for hours.

Raul recently received the “Latino Literacy Books Into Movies Award” for America Libre. I don’t know who will be cast as the main character, but I know that I already have a crush on Manolo “Mano” Suarez.

Author, Raul Ramos Y Sanchez, receiving the Latino Books Into Movies Award (notice Eddie Olmos, the presenter).

Watch an excerpt of the awards VIDEO

Mano Suarez, a former decorated U.S. Army veteran turned insurgent, and his family live in a Los Angeles barrio scarred by many years of ethnic war. His focus is to keep his family together and survive. His wife, Rosa, is deeply religious and opposes the fighting. His son, Pedro, is a teenager trying to find himself; in the process, Pedro joins an extremist group that attacks innocent civilians. This does not set well with his father, who must battle both a fractured country dominated by demagogues and the terrorists in his own ranks—without betraying his son or losing his wife.

From a woman's perspective, I especially liked Rosa’s relationship with Celia, a local curandera (faith healer); but I don’t want to spoil this engaging novel for you by giving away the good parts. Just put this one on your “must read” list. One scene was written so well, it had me multi-tasking - dodging bullets, while smelling and craving cake.

“Contrary to what many might think, my novels do not defend illegal immigration. In fact, none of the major characters are undocumented and most are second and third generation U.S. citizens. But this assumption that AMERICA LIBRE and HOUSE DIVIDED support illegal immigration or are manifestos for an insurrection illustrates the often toxic misinformation that pervades this volatile topic. My novels are actually cautionary tales, a call for reason in an escalating war of words between extremists on both sides of the immigration issue. I also hope my work provides a more nuanced portrayal of Hispanics than is commonly depicted by the media.” Raul said, in a recent interview my Michael F. Stewart at The Big Thrill. You can read the entire interview here: The Big Thrill

Amazon is taking orders for House Divided here AMAZON.COM I’m going to order another copy for my Kindle.

You can read more about the author and the book on Raul Ramos Y Sanchez’ website.

Please follow him on Facebook, as he tends to have monthly autographed book giveaways. I have been following him there since we both attended a writer’s workshop at the University of Dayton in 2008.

Why I Love (and Write) Humor at 'As the Pages Turn'

2011-01-18T07:30:00.003Z

If you have been following my Sitting on Cold Porcelain virtual book tour that started on Monday, January 3rd, you will really get a kick out of this interview that I had with Dorothy Thompson at Pump Up Your Book:

Click here to read it INTERVIEW

If you would like to win a free copy of Sitting on Cold Porcelain, just add a comment after reading the review at Acting Balanced and Ellis Reviews & Life.

Today, I've written a guest post "Why I Love to Read and Write Humor at As the Pages Turn. Please visit the site.

You can view the entire book tour schedule here - Sitting on Cold Porcelain Book Tour

I posted several guest columns on different sites with live links you can click to right on the tour schedule.

Isn't it amazing? I've been from New York to California without ever leaving Philadelphia. Since no one has used Skype yet, I can answer the interview questions without makeup, wearing my Pooh Bear bath robe and a pair of Joy Steele knock-off bunny slippers.

Thanks,
Rosie

Lady Marmalade Wants Her Corner Back

2011-01-16T17:32:00.002Z

There are big problems in the United Kingdom, as marmalade has been upstaged by American peanut butter and chocolate as the breakfast food of choice among Brits.

So far this year, marmalade sales are down by 2.5 million jars. As peanut butter corners the market, Jimmy Carter might be grinning like a chessy cat, but the lemons and oranges are getting moldy and Paddington Bear is having schitt fits.

As a last ditch effort to get Lady Marmalade’s corner back, the 2011 Marmalade Festival will be held on February 13th and 14th offering “The World's Original Marmalade Award” to the best amateur entry at the festival.

Details about the festival can be found on the official website: http://www.marmaladeawards.com

Virtual Book Tour January 3 - February 25, 2011

2011-01-03T06:15:00.003Z

If you have been following the trend in publishing, you've noticed that everything is migrating to electronic media. That includes major newspapers, magazines, journals, and books.

So why not a whole book tour?

My virtual book tour starts today at 10:00 AM with an interview at "The Writer's Life." You can find the link under Sitting on Cold Porcelain Virtual Book Tour. Click on that link and go about halfway down the page to find the schedule and the link for January 3rd "The Writer's Life," or you can go to www.pumpupyourbook.com and click on my name in the right sidebar.

Every day, something new will be added.

From now until the end of February, you will be able to follow my tour and read book reviews, interviews, and guest columns online.

It has been a lot of hard work at Pump Up Your Book and from here to bring you this tour. I hope you enjoy taking part in this new development in Internet technology. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback. I am looking forward to hearing from you.

Have fun and thank you for joining my tour!

Rosie

Internet Buzz Today: Humor Columnist Rose A. Valenta on Tour

2010-12-23T04:31:00.006Z

Wait a minute, that's me!

I just had to share the news with you. I will be on a virtual book tour with Pump Up Your Book from January 3rd to February 25, 2011. The write up by Dorothy Thompson at BlogHer started it all today, then it went viral getting picked up by NPR and USA TODAY:

Read Dorothy's article at BlogHer

Next, Sitting on Cold Porcelain made the "Top 25 Self-Published Novels of 2010" at Gelati's Scoop!

I am so excited. Thanks to all of you who read my blog and have purchased my book.

The Kindle Edition of Sitting on Cold Porcelain at Amazon has been doing great. Hopefully, more of you will have a Kindle on Christmas and can order the electronic edition.

I will keep you posted about the upcoming tour, stay tuned.

Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

.

A Funny Way to Circumvent the NORAD Santa Tracker

2010-12-22T18:48:00.000Z

"There ought to be one day -- just one -- where there is open season on senators." ~ Will Rogers

The North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) is gearing up to track Santa again this year. It has officially released its schedule, now allows you to get real-time reports on your cell phone, and you can log on to its website at any time Christmas Eve to locate Santa's whereabouts - http://www.noradsanta.org

It reminded me of Christmas 2009, when early morning reports of reindeer poop on the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State building circumvented modern technology and allowed kids to track where Santa and his reindeer had been. These are based on help desk reports from the North Pole. As you know, reindeer poop was in demand last year for those folks, who were put on Santa’s naughty list. Entrepreneurs even packaged the stuff with poems like this one:

Santa saved a precious gift
and it's especially for you.
Just a little something extra
and it comes from Rudolph, too!

He knows that you've been naughty
instead of being nice.
Once again you're on the bad list
and he's checked it over twice.

Santa hopes this little poem
doesn’t throw you for a loop.
All you’re getting this year
is a bunch of reindeer poop!

The Elves

Recycled reindeer droppings can be used for mulch, potting soil, pranks, fertilizer, and fiberboard. You can contact the North Pole directly for Reindeer Poop® franchise information. Proceeds from the franchise initiative support Santa's workshop.

While 10 million people from 212 countries had a good time tracking Santa Claus via NORAD, Google Maps and Google Earth, and the Twitter microblogging service, including 24 "Santa cams" around the world that were later put up on Youtube; some small folks were still having fun learning where Rudolph and friends made pit stops.

I went online to see if there were any web sites dedicated to reindeer poop sightings, as Santa was feeling a bit guilty about some of the splatters, especially the one dropped in mid-town Manhattan at about 11:00 pm EST, flattening the roof of a taxi, plus, the hoof and Claus marks on the forehead of an old lady in Skidmore, Texas; but there were none to be found.

By the time the sleigh reached the New Jersey Pine Barrens, Santa and the reindeer were feeling the side-effects of all those chocolate chip cookies. In an act of desperation, Santa began dropping notes asking kids for nachos and beer, instead of milk and cookies.

You always wondered why the Washington Monument faded in two-tone, right?

Volunteers at the North Pole help desk fielded nearly 195,000 phone calls reporting a need for WINDEX®; over 940,000 e-mail complaints demanding that a pooper scooper be installed on the sleigh; and one from an irate Senator Bernie Sanders, who was still running his mouth.

The root cause analysis?

The 24-hour marathon of "A Christmas Story," interference by Buddy the Elf, and Christmas!

Who Moved My Mascarpone?

2010-12-08T18:23:00.001Z

An excerpt from "Sitting on Cold Porcelain."

Yesterday, December 7th, I took old Mrs. Russo shopping at the Italian Market in South Philadelphia. It was "a date, which will live in infamy."

I had my goal list all ready:

• Olive oil, prosciutto, capicola, and imported pasta from Claudio’s
• Olive salad and cheese from DiBruno’s
• Lamb and pork roasts, and ground beef from Esposito’s
• Locatelli and fresh produce from Giordano’s
• Spices and coffee from the Spice Corner
• Some pastry from Isgro’s

I was looking forward to a refreshing walk, while enjoying the sights and smells of the South Philly marketplace and maybe do some Christmas shopping.

I was asked to pick Teresa up at her sister’s house.

Teresa Russo has been a friend of our family for years. She went to school with one of my aunts. She was born and raised in South Philadelphia. Her temperament is a bit surly, but expected, as she grew up in a tough neighborhood. She doesn’t get around much by herself anymore, so taking her shopping was my idea and good deed for the day.

I decided to take her to lunch at the new BBQ brisket place that just opened up on 9th Street, instead of our normal visit to Pat’s Steaks.

When I picked her up, I noticed that the jacket she was wearing was wrinkled and out of shape.

“What’s up with the jacket?” I asked, as she got into the car.

“Flak jacket underneath.” She answered. “I got it from Louie ‘The Nose.”

“Come on, Teresa, you’re 80 years old. Who’s going to mess with you?”

“Hey, they let that Gambino guy off last week. You know, John ‘junior’ Gatti. Now, they call him ‘Teflon John.’ He don’t have friends in South Philadelphia. Two guys came down from New York last week and started something near the Sports Complex. I smell trouble. Plus, it’s December 7th, like we got the malocchio or something. Maybe we shouldn’t go today.”

“Teresa, people don’t believe in the ‘evil eye’ anymore. You shouldn’t be so superstitious. Of course we should go shopping. Those guys all hang out in a different neighborhood.”

“Yeah? What are we gonna do if they decide they want to eat something at Mama Mia’s and start a fight?”

“Teresa, they don’t mess with old ladies.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m not old.” She said.

When we got to the Italian Market and parked the car at the three dollar lot on Washington Avenue, we were approached by some guy, who said he was from Social Security and was taking a poll. Teresa broke his pencil and told him to get lost.

“OK,” I said. “I take back what I said. They don’t mess with NICE old ladies.”

“Statazete! (Shutup)” she snapped. “We should have stayed home. That guy was a pickpocket. Check your wallet.”

“I have it” I said. “Nothing is missing. Will you just relax and enjoy yourself? Put on your happy face, that should confuse everybody.”

Everything went smoothly until Teresa spotted a black limousine driving up 9th Street. She dove under a vendor table and about 50 live blue crabs and two dozen oranges went scurrying and rolling in all directions. Crustaceans were everywhere. I saw one of them booking down Montrose Street. You could hear the screams for blocks.

“What, are you on somebody’s hit list, or just crazy - are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” She said.

“Yes, what? Yes, you’re crazy or yes, you’re OK?”

“Alright already - both!”

The guy, who rented the vendor table, was furious, cussing in Italian, and running around with tongs trying to gather up the runaway crustaceans before they pinched someone.

“Che cazzo...?” he shouted, “C'è un casino della Madonna qui.” (Meaning “What the hell…?” and his vocabulary went down-hill after that.)

After we paid him for the crabs that were still missing in action, I swore to myself that I would never do another good deed like this again. What started out as a fun shopping trip had turned into a total nightmare.

We never got to Isgro’s.

On the way home, Teresa apologized for her behavior all day. She told me she is into Ronny ‘The Rat’ for $100 to pay for the exterminator.

Apparently, while she was getting out her Christmas decorations two weeks ago, she found mice running around in her basement. Ronny had threatened her. She was supposed to pay him $125 by yesterday, or he would import a hundred mice and set them loose in her house. So, for the rest of the week, until she pays him on Friday, Teresa is spending nights with her sister.

“Ronny is a spostata (jerk).” She said.

“Teresa, the next time you need money, call me. I will lend it to you, no mice and no interest, capiche?”

I went home, poured myself a Chianti, and listened to a little Lou Monte.

Meet the Real Captain Underpants

2010-12-04T01:31:00.010Z

BCB International, a British manufacturer, has developed a pair of men’s underpants that will protect your junk from terrorist attack.

President Obama wore a pair of them on his recent trip to Afghanistan.

Read news article

I was trying to figure out how BCB tested the bombproof boxer shorts in its R&D department, but they refused to comment. One spokesman, whose voice sounded very much like Andy Kaufman’s when he played Ladka in Taxi, said that he participated in the user acceptance testing. It is probably an indication that things did not run smoothly.

When you wear these “Blast Boxers,” not only will your junk be protected at airports and shopping malls, but you will be doing the girls a favor. They won't have to look at each other when you walk into a room, whispering "That guy, boxer or jockey?"

The shorts will make ideal gifts for guys in our military. Of course, the DoD has already purchased several thousand pairs, and as soon as they get the minor glitches out, they will be standard issue to our deployed troops.

"We believe they will make a real difference," said Andrew Howell of BCB International. "We managed to test all of our clothing on a group of Army volunteers, who were gracious enough to make this training video:"

Mastering One-Upmanship

2010-11-14T09:25:00.005Z

Zoiks Online, one of the most popular humor magazines on the web has reviewed Sitting on Cold Porcelain.

Read the Review

Sitting on Cold Porcelain makes an ideal stocking stuffer for that hard-to-buy-for person on your Christmas list. You know, the practical joker, who has been disrupting your world. It has gotten 5-star reviews at Amazon.com and it is offered at a great price:

Read the Reviews

Buy one for yourself, as well. It will provide you with hours of entertainment either on the john or the couch.

As some of you know, in order to support my writing habit, I have been working as a lifeguard for the local Country Club. The tips have been low due to our current economic downturn. All of our wealthy customers have been parking their own cars lately and bringing their own booze as well.

One of my lifeguard co-workers is so unnerved by the tip situation, he decided to get even:

Funny - Funny Videos

Needless to say, his next exciting career opportunity is "Head Bidet" at the Nemacolin Resort and Health Spa.

So, If you are among the folks, who enjoy reading Rosie’s Renegade Humor Blog, please help to support my habit and buy a copy of Sitting on Cold Porcelain. I’m trying to get it qualified as a “prop” in a sitcom, so I can quit my day job:

Order your copy here

Thanks in advance,

Rosie

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Wade Phillips: Dancing With the Stars?

2010-11-09T01:38:00.003Z

For years coaches Wade Phillips and Joe Gibbs were the Tommy and Dickey Smothers of football. They competed for wins and ratings. Gibbs retired, but not until he and two of his sons started Joe Gibbs Motorsports and set all time record wins in NASCAR racing. Then Joe went back to the Red Skins, pulled Phillips' chains again, and retired before Phillips could get even.

Well today, the favorite coach competition is really over. Wade Phillips got sacked from the Dallas Cowboys.

Did he moan and groan "Who Moved My Cheese?"

Hell no. This video shows what he did. Maybe we will see him on Dancing With the Stars?

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Nancy Pelosi: A Dead Donkey?

2010-11-07T04:25:00.001Z

Nancy Pelosi is running for House Minority Leader. You have to wonder why, right?

Read news article

In her recent interview with Diane Sawyer, Pelosi said that she believes Obama is going to win in 2012. I’m not sure how many other people agree with her, but I believe that he has as much chance at winning that election as Monty Paulsen.

Recent polls show that Pelosi only has an 11% approval rating among registered voters. About 47% of the registered voters think she should leave the country - you know, most of us do read the fine print on bills and contracts before we sign them. However, we're not Rush Limbaugh whiney-mouthy about it by sending up the Goodyear blimp either. Rush thinks his listeners need their noses rubbed into it 24x7, like we need to listen to multi-millionaire bullies. He needs an extreme makeover and she is in denial.

I did some research and found out that 70-year-old Nancy is worth about $15 million and has a nice home in Washington, DC and Pacific Heights, CA; as well as a millionaire husband, five grown children, and seven grandchildren. She should quit while she is still ahead, otherwise her rating may drop down to 1%, Obama will lose, and she will realize that she could have been spending her money taking the grandchildren to Disneyland and drinking margaritas with her husband in Aruba or something else exciting and fun. At least with him, her approval rating is greater than 11%.

I don’t see the productivity and sense of accomplishment in either riding or beating a dead donkey.

All the Pelosi’s sent the following video, labeled "Grandma We Love You" to Nancy, hoping that she will change her mind; take them to Disneyland, and write memoirs...then, become a Republican or a conservative Democrat, so she can go talk to Ann Coulter and figure out she has a better approval rating with them and enjoys Disneyland better.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

‘You’ve Got Mail’ Depleting the Owl Population in India

2010-11-04T15:27:00.003Z

Harry Potter mania has hit India. As a result, people are removing owls from their natural habitat to perform at birthday celebrations and deliver birthday messages to Hola Maholla partiers. The government is trying to figure out how to preserve its owl population in the wild. If you want to visualize the wild in India, it equates to about 5 New York City blocks, so preserving wildlife there is a problem.

Read news article

Environment Minister, Jairam Ramesh, is warning all the Hedwig followers to grow back their hair and return to Sikhism, to save the owls. He blames all the folks, who come to America on H1B Visas to work on computer systems and wind up succumbing to Western philosophy by shaving, removing their turbans, wearing suits and ties, and eating lunch at Hooters with their co-workers.

“The only hooters they should be worrying about are the endangered barn owls not standing on platform 9 ¾” he said. “They go to America, bring back Harry Potter books, import pumpkin juice, trap owls, and have a negative impact on our culture.”

Mastering Elephant Smuggling

2010-11-02T17:24:00.000Z

“Everything I like is either illegal, immoral or fattening.” Alexander Woollcott

While we in America are voting Republican to send a message to Washington during the mid-term elections, the government in India has a more pressing problem – smuggling.

Over 92 elephants have been smuggled in India. Elephants are religious icons there.

How does one smuggle an elephant?

Don’t ask me. I couldn’t even smuggle a tiny silver medal of St. Christopher past customs at Rome Airport. I am just as amazed as I was when David Copperfield lost one of our icons, the Statue of Liberty in New York, for a half-hour.

Elephants are a status symbol in India, equivalent to an American owning an estate with an in-ground pool and a Lamborghini roaming your property with a driver ready to take you anywhere you choose.

Read the news article about elephants

While our department of Homeland Security did not get involved when Copperfield disguised Lady Liberty, the Indian government not only had to get involved with elephant smuggling, but the Chief of Homeland Security in Uttar Pradesh also tried to overcome a language barrier while communicating its predicament with INTERPOL.

INTERPOL, the CIA, and the FBI are still baffled by what he said. Evidently, he has learned a lesson from Janet Napolitano, "If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, then baffle them with..." well, in this case, elephant dung.

If you see a large brown round object on the street in Times Square, don't walk through it bare footed.

Jersey Devil Spotted in Washington Township

2010-10-28T13:45:00.002+01:00

On Mischief night, over in Washington Township, NJ, three brothers that I know, Mark, Bob, and Luke Nigel were enjoying themselves soaping cars, while their parents thought they were at their friend, Hari’s house watching a movie.

Amid muffled giggles, the kids marveled at their creativity. Bob, who was a good artist, had soaped a picture of Darth Vader on a windshield, and Spiderman was on someone’s back window. Luke fired off some acrylic paint balls at mailboxes. The only car left unscathed was their dad’s new Chrysler 300.

Afterwards, Luke went home. Mark and Bob ditched the left over soap in a nearby drain and started walking through the woods adjacent to their back yard.

The quiet and eerie woods echoed the sounds of an owl and a patchy breeze rustling through the trees. Some tall trees with faces and bare zigzag branches cast their spirit shadows in the boy's path. An owl swooped down to grab a rodent that was scurrying around, its wings just missed the top of Mark's head, and the boys began to walk faster. Then, someone in a Halloween costume appeared. It was half bat with wings, a long tail, and a horse face with horns. It was the strangest costume the boys had ever seen.

"Hey, that's a good costume, what kind of a ghoul are you?

"I'm not a ghoul at all," the creature responded.

"What's your name?"

"Leeds"

"Do you live around here?"

"You might say that."

"Secretive aren't you? You shouldn't be out here by yourself, wanna go trick or treating with us tomorrow night?"

"Not unless they're giving out ham and eggs." Then, Leeds let out a horrible screech and disappeared into the woods behind Nigel's property.

"What the heck was THAT?" Bob said as they went running home.

"I dunno, maybe it was a burglar. Hurry up!" Mark said frantically.

The boys got home and into bed before their parents arrived home.

"Do you think we'll get caught?" Bob asked.

"No," Mark answered, "We'll deny everything and blame it on Luke."

Halloween morning was a total nightmare, Mr. Nigel was furious about the cars and the neighbors were furious with Nigel for letting the kids out of the house. He put the boys on the carpet and badgered them with questions about the night before.

"Dad, there was this strange kid in the neighborhood last night; he said his name was Leeds and he was dressed up in a bat and horse costume. Mark and I saw him when we came back from Hari's house. We only watched a movie"

Leeds?" Mr. Nigel said, "What exactly did he look like?"

The boys described the costume and Leeds' exact comments about ham and eggs. Mr. Nigel was skeptical, but gave them the benefit of a doubt.

The morning paper was sitting on the front porch "JERSEY DEVIL SPOTTED IN WASHINGTON TOWNSHIP" the headlines read. Mr. Nigel read the article and with a look of shock, told the boys what had happened. The creature in the article was spotted about a quarter-mile away from the Nigel's home and described almost exactly as the boys had told their father. It was seen raiding a chicken coop.

"Gee dad, do you think he did it?" Mark asked.

Mr. Nigel's eyebrows narrowed.

"He missed my Chrysler," he clenched his teeth. "However, I will look into this further. Go to your room for a while."

The boys went upstairs feeling a little apprehensive about what lay ahead for the rest of their day.

"Hey, that was close," Bob breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, for a minute there, I thought we would get punished on Halloween."

"I don't believe that we actually saw that Jersey Devil!" Mark said, "Awesome!"

Mr. Nigel finished reading the paper and called his friend over at the police station to find out what happened.

"We've had news reporters outside since early this morning, Howard," his friend said. "In addition to the sightings, someone started a fire over at the Craig's. Mrs. Craig could not positively identify the perpetrator, so she blamed all the kids within a 3-mile radius, including your boys. I told her that your boys wouldn't set fire to bags of dog feces and that if she didn't see who did it, we couldn't do anything, except file an incident report."

The hairs on the back of Mr. Nigel's neck stood up when the fire was mentioned, as he was aware of the fireworks fiasco the night before that at Hari's, when they were "allegedly" celebrating Diwali.

"In case you were not aware of the history of the Jersey Devil," his friend continued, "It allegedly originated in Leeds Point and has been spotted throughout three counties for over 200 years. Sounds like a local myth to me, though."

"Leeds?" Mr. Nigel responded.

"Yes, legend has it that a Mrs. Leeds over in the Pine Barrens gave birth to the devil 200 years ago. It was her 13th child. It was cursed from conception, as the lady didn't want another child. When it was born, it looked just as it does in reported sightings, half bat and half horse with a long tail. It flew out the window scaring its midwife, and has been on the loose ever since."

Mr. Nigel thanked his friend, and hung up.

"Poppy cock!" he commented, as he sat in the kitchen pensively munching on his cold pizza like a dog on a bone. The family dog, an overweight Golden Retriever named Buckwheat, was sitting patiently for a crumb to fall off the table. His eyes were blinking quickly, as if he was anticipating a shower of crumbs and he began to drool.

"Ruff!" Buckwheat pleaded, but still no crumb of pizza was forthcoming. He muffled a sound of disappointment, belched, and laid back down. His jowls were spread out across the comic section of the newspaper on the floor like lava that had just petered out after running down the side of a mountain. They stopped just short of a Mike Peters' cartoon of a demented Superhero, who even looked like Howard Nigel.

"Do you think we should let the children go out trick or treating tonight with that thing on the loose?" Mom asked.

"Don't worry, I'll go with them" he assured her.

On Halloween, the boys wore pirate costumes. They told all their friends about the Jersey Devil incident and their mom got a phone call from two newspaper reporters, who interviewed them for the Courier-Post about the sighting.

They went out trick or treating hoping they didn’t run into Leeds!

Schiller’s Hole in Juan

2010-10-23T19:30:00.007+01:00

The recent events at FoxNews: First, the Bill O’Reilly fiasco regarding Muslims on The View; then, Juan Williams getting fired from NPR for making a personal remark about Muslims on The Factor, made me think about what my grandmother always told me about “moderation.” In her opinion, you can do almost anything in moderation, as long as there is no law against it. Her side of the family immigrated to America in 1634, aboard the Christian from London, so I figured she knew something about American freedoms and common sense. At least two of her ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War, several in the Civil War, and many in WWII. She lived to be 90 years old remaining true to her convictions. You know, the gallon of blackberry brandy was only consumed during flu season and the only time she called the milkman a “jackass” is when he overcharged her.

On the other side of my diverse family spectrum, we had Italian immigrants, who came here in 1918. From my Italian grandmother, I learned about the negative effects of discrimination, overcoming language barriers, and again moderation. You know, if you watched too many episodes of Combat and called the German bread man a “Kraut” once too often, he’d forget where you live and you could starve; a way never to pronounce “baloney;” and learning that sneaking too much Chianti will make you sick .

As a woman, some of those lessons about discrimination, I also learned first-hand on my job, which adds to my sensitivity on the subject.

Did the Buddhists Bomb Pearl Harbor?

I have to tell you that when O’Reilly said “The Muslims attacked us on 911” on The View, several people in my age-group with similar backgrounds, were about ready to travel to Canada and ask the Dalai Lama first-hand, if Pearl Harbor was a Buddhist conspiracy or if the Japanese government acted alone on December 7, 1941. It was a ridiculous comment by O’Reilly, which he later apologized for and clarified by saying “Not enough Muslim moderates voice their opinions against the jihadists.”

Freedom of Speech in America

Then, we have Vivian Schiller, CEO of NPR going to the opposite extreme by actually firing Juan Williams for making a mild personal remark, on The Factor, about being uncomfortable when Muslims in religious attire board his flight. I say mild, because if you have ever heard Beck and O’Reilly go off ranting about Muslims on their respective shows, Juan’s comment, although bigoted, is mild by comparison. However, he said it on Fox, not NPR. The ideology of hate thrives on Fox. I’ve heard more hate speeches on that network than anywhere else and both Beck and O’Reilly still have jobs. Why? Because in America we have freedom of speech, but you should only abuse that freedom moderately.

I did some research and found out that Vivian Schiller did not study American Civil Liberties in college. Instead, she majored in Russian Studies earning a Bachelor’s degree at Cornell and a Master’s Degree in Russian at Middlebury. Beck will be calling her a communist very soon.

I couldn’t feel too sorry for Juan either. He got a $2 million contract from Fox and filled in for O’Reilly on The Factor Friday night. He also managed to eviscerate NPR and Schiller quite nicely. The polls said that over 4.3 million people were watching. By the time those who were watching CSI, The Mentalist, The Big Bang Theory, Sh*t My Dad Says, and Grey’s Anatomy, tuned in at 11:00 pm, The Factor probably ended up with over 5 million viewers.

How to Spot Moderate Muslim Women

I did still more research, and found out what moderate Muslim women do in Saudi Arabia. They take bi-monthly shopping trips to Cairo, Egypt. They board the plane in Burkas and get off the plane in Cairo wearing designer outfits and jewelry, full makeup, manicure, and heels. Evidently, Juan’s Muslims were not moderates. Trust me Juan, it’s like recess in a Catholic school; they can’t unload the burkas fast enough.

The solution to all of this is like my grandmother said, moderation. We need to hear more moderate rhetoric on FoxNews and less ranting and labeling. There are more moderate viewers out there than they think. They also need to watch this video on profiling:

Don't Drink the Kool-Aid

2010-10-18T23:32:00.007+01:00

Current events have been both interesting and enlightening. Last week, someone posted a note on Facebook stating that the automobile manufacturers are now using female dummies, as well as male, to test crash vehicles. They are considering installing cams in the steering column, so that if you hit something at 25 mph, you will engage the air bag and get a nanosecond mammogram when your boobs smash up against the wheel.

The Cadillac Escalade made headlines again. I think I might buy one. Not only can it withstand a swedish beating with a five iron and a fire hydrant, without seriously injuring the driver; but it can also safely go over a cliff. While most of us would be dead if we drove our SUV off a cliff, former NFL linebacker, Junior Seau, who drives an Escalade, is now writing a new psychological thriller called "Oops I Crapped My Pants."

Within the last few days, a British judge refused to dismiss a plagiarism lawsuit against best-selling author J.K. Rowling. Supporters say her accusers speak in Parseltongue and are part of an ongoing smear campaign by Nearly Headless Nick (suffering from an identity crisis), who swore under oath that he used to be The Canterville Ghost.

A few days before that, foreman, Luis Urzua, rose to the surface to the cheers of "Chi! Chi! Chi! Le! Le! Le!" It was a long, drawn-out rescue. They could have thrown a rope down there and let the Chilean miners out right away; but, they took a few weeks to build a 924-pound, red, white and blue rescue capsule; line the drill hole with sheet metal; and conduct preliminary dry-runs. It reminded me of a Miracle Max quote "You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles."

Psycho, Mel Gibson, will be making a cameo appearance in the new movie sequel, "The Hangover 2." They wouldn’t give him a mic for any length of time to run his mouth, so they cast him as a tattoo artist.

On the political front, FoxNews is still scaring the crap out of everyone; but in these hard economic times, you have to sign up for Bill O’Reilly’s “Premier Service” or Glenn Beck’s “INSIDER Extreme” to find out all the gory details. The way they tell it, Michael Myers is alive and well on Capitol Hill being sustained by Barney Frank’s boyfriend.

Oh, yes, just in case Glenn Beck was out in the mid-west looking for acreage to establish a commune, remember - don't drink the Kool-Aid!

Baltimore East County Times Newest Column – Wojo’s World

2010-10-16T18:36:00.001+01:00

The Baltimore East County Times has a new humor column, Wojo’s World, written by popular humorist and comedienne, Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski. You will love her humorous look at life.

Read Wojo’s World

This week, in her column “Parallel Universe,” Wojo addresses the age-old problem of parallel parking.

You’ve been there, right?

The way I look at it, in order to master the art of parallel parking, you must be proficient at the games of pool and shuffleboard. Anyone who can master the "cliff hanger" and put the right English on a cue ball, can usually parallel park a car without difficulty. Then, there's parking by ear... and Wojo's World.

Watch how this guy did it in a rush:

Getting Naked in Illinios

2010-10-09T02:35:00.007+01:00

If you have spent a lot of time convincing people to get out and vote during major elections, you will love this!

The State of Illinois has changed its voting law, You can now vote at home and mail in your ballot. There are drawbacks, of course. This holds true for both voters and tabulators. I would not want to be a tabulator, unless I was also writing an essay on weird submissions and political gifts.

It’s not easy qualifying as a candidate in Illinois either. The number of signatures required to get placed on the ballot is discriminatory. Republican, Democrat, and Green Party candidates require fewer signatures than those running as Independent or New Party.

Independents running for Supreme and Appelate Court or Circuit Court Judge need signatures from practically all of Michael “Big Mike” Sarno’s fan club to qualify.

Then there is the problem of getting voters. Remember dangling Chads?

Whaddayagonnado, right?

In an ingenious strategy maneuver, the State Board of Elections, with the assistance of MPAC Chairman and business model, Ron Jeremy, has released this new video to encourage people to vote:

Humor Book - ‘Sitting on Cold Porcelain’

2010-10-03T21:00:00.000+01:00

My book has four great reviews at Amazon and is in the top 100 in the "Entertainment>Humor>Essays" category at the Kindle Store. Thank you all!

A new way to describe Murphy's Law, political scandals, our screwed up economy, and life in general - Sitting on Cold Porcelain.

Read my recent interview with humorist Wanda Argersinger at Associated Content.

To quote Erma Bombeck “If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it.”

Political unrest… government scandal… corruption... extortion! What do all these things have in common? They are perfect fodder for satire! In Sitting on Cold Porcelain, you will find an amusing, perceptive, and laugh-out-loud take on the state of our country and our world, on celebrities and politicians, and all the events that make us all roll our eyes and groan.

Some of the satirical essays within the pages of Sitting on Cold Porcelain include "Giuliani's Gaffe Could Qualify for Political Darwin Award," "Rush Limbaugh: The Don Rickles of Radio," "State of The Union 2010: Bitch-Slapping Congress," “Islamic Cleric Declares Jihad on Mickey Mouse,” “Little Egypt to Run Against Sarah Palin,” and ”Who Moved My Mascarpone?”

I included a few family-oriented holiday fiascos as well. They are always fun and dysfunctional, right?

You will also find my hysterical consultations with Annette Giordano, a South Philadelphia Malocchio (evil eye) doctor. Annette hates one-way communication, she likes to interact. She often bloviates in Italian and is the Italian equivalent to the ‘Numa Numa Guy’ in front of the TV when she watches The O’Reilly Factor.

I’m currently putting her on to Twitter, so she can send her pithy Italian comments to the media and the White House whenever she pleases, its less frustrating.

You can read an excerpt here: Take a peek
Click here to access my Author Page, and here to Order the Book.

You can order the book from Xlibris.com, and at Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble online, and the Amazon Kindle Store.

I know you will enjoy reading the book and I am gathering more laughs for another.

Thank you for reading Rosie’s Renegade Humor Blog. Thanks to you, we are in the No. 2 spot in the “Top 50 Networked Blogs” in Philadelphia on Facebook.

You people rock!

Book Signing in Philadelphia Sunday October 3rd

2010-09-20T21:16:00.013+01:00

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

New Humor Book -“Sitting on Cold Porcelain”
Book Signing Sunday, October 3rd, at 3:00 pm
Moonstone Arts Center, 110A South 13th Street, Philadelphia, PA

A Humorous Look at Politics, Life, and Current Events

Valenta entertains with witty, honest, and unapologetic insights in engaging new book

Philadelphia, PA – (Release Date September 21, 2010) – Humor columnist Rose A. Valenta and popular comedian Chip Chantry will be kicking off a book signing event at the Moonstone Arts Center, 110A South 13th Street, Philadelphia, PA, on Sunday, October 3rd at 3:00 pm. Valenta brings humor to every bookshelf as she releases Sitting on Cold Porcelain. Published by Xlibris, this book is a collection of the author’s insights that paint a satirical picture of the world today.

Sitting on Cold Porcelain provides delightful entertainment with an amusing, perceptive, and laugh-out-loud take on the state of the country and the world, on celebrities and politicians, and all the news events that make people roll their eyes and groan. Its satirical essays include "Giuliani's Gaffe Could Qualify for Political Darwin Award," "Rush Limbaugh: The Don Rickles of Radio," “Menopausal Seagull Interrupts News Broadcast,” “Trick or Treat – Smell My Feet,” and "The Mona Lisa Had High Cholesterol?"

Witty and honest, Sitting on Cold Porcelain is an unapologetic yet unmistakably intellectual read that is seamlessly woven to challenge ideas and stir beliefs.

Sitting on Cold Porcelain * by Rose A. Valenta
Trade Paperback; $19.99; 163 pages; 978-1-4500-4419-6
Trade Hardback; $29.99; 163 pages; 978-1-4500-4420-2
eBook; $9.99; 978-1-4500-4421-9

You can purchase the book at Amazon.com, Barnes and Nobles, or the order desk of your local book store.

About the Author
Rose A. Valenta is a nationally syndicated humor columnist. Her irreverent columns have been published in Associated Content, Courier Post Online, NPR, Newsday, USA TODAY, the WSJ Online, and many other local news and radio websites. She also authors Rosie’s Renegade Humor Blog - http://rosevalenta.com.

Valenta regularly attends the Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop at the University of Dayton, is a member of the Robert Benchley Society and the National Society of Newspaper Columnists.

About Chip Chantry
Chip Chantry is a handsome young comedian from the suburbs of Philadelphia, PA. His first performances were opening for his brother's band at Fergie's Pub in Philly and since then Chip has become a regular in comedy clubs across the country. Besides comedy, Chip enjoys music, people who get eaten by alligators, and writing about himself in third person.

To Schedule an interview,
Contact: Marti Lawrence
(816) 678-7476
martilawrence@gmail.com

Will Lazlo Get the Aircraft Carrier?

2010-09-19T22:17:00.005+01:00

© The JFK CV-67 Memorial Foundation, Inc., Roland Camilleri

The U.S. Navy wants to donate an aircraft carrier and my second cousin Lazlo is looking to get married as soon as he can afford a new home. So, he decided to write a letter to the Secretary of the Navy:

Read news article

Ray Mabus
United States Secretary of the Navy
1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW
Washington, DC 20500
September 19, 2010

Dear Ray,

I wasn’t sure if I should write to you at your home in Mississippi or catch you actually in the office at work.

I understand that you are giving away the aircraft carrier USS John F. Kennedy. You know, the one that Caroline christened in 1967?

She is 1,000 feet long and just the right size for Ella and I to live on and start a family.

Ella and I are having our commitment ceremony on October 12. Uncle Mario will be in attendance with his .300 Winchester Magnum, as he already caught us celebrating early in the barn.

Since me and Ella will be having a large family and I have been out of work since June, 2003; I figured that we could throw the anchor over three miles off the coast of Savannah, GA, and use Uncle Sal’s old dinghy to travel back and forth for food, lamp oil, and bait.

I will send you all the catfish you can eat, in exchange for your generosity, and provide transportation to Glenn Beck and Father Guido Sarducci for their “Restoring America” road trips to earn money for gas.

Very Truly Yours,
Lazlo

NFL to Regulate Testosterone

2010-09-16T15:55:00.004+01:00

You know how it can get in a major league locker room when a young attractive woman with a boob job in tight jeans walks in to interview a player, right?

Why do sports media make women do these things?

Last Saturday, Ines Sainz, a Mexican network TV sports reporter was on assignment to interview a Jets player. When she walked in to conduct the interview, all eyes were not on the camera. There were cat calls, whistles, and two naked men going ballistic. Hand towels were frantically being draped over the naked towel racks. One player passed out from holding his breath and two were caught salivating inside a locker.

In the background, you could hear the Beastie Boys "This is Just a Test" on the radio.

Read news article

Coach Woody (no pun intended) Johnson was no exception, but he was hiding behind a shower curtain, trying to act like Obama.

After all the excitement was over, Woody issued a public apology to Ms. Sainz.

A memo went out from the NFL to all 32 teams, warning them to tone down the testosterone when female reporters visit their turf.

There is no easy solution to this problem. They way I look at it, Ms. Sainz has every right to dress in tight jeans and expose her $25,000 boob job. However, when it comes to actually entering a major league locker room to interview players, she should send an assistant – someone like Ruth Buzzi, for instance. I think you could actually get an intelligent Playboy-type interview then. The Jets would be better equipped to focus on the questions and answers, rather than try to avoid Woody.

Is There a God For Chronic Complainers?

2010-09-12T16:25:00.010+01:00

My uncle Harry has it in for chronic complainers. I feel that God has to look out for them more because they don’t have their priorities straight.

Harry smelled my bacon cooking this morning and invited himself over for breakfast, as usual, with a solution to yet another modern generation social issue.

“Look at how many complainers there are,” he said. “Some people only complain about a few things, like the high price of food, clothing, and shelter; while others complain about practically everything. Do you realize how many personal attacks there are because Kilroy was here and Paul the Psychic Octopus picked Spain to the win the World cup? Some people have no sense of humor. Whatever happened to honest solutions and self-motivation?” He said.

“Harry, what have you been smoking?” I asked. “I just rolled out of bed; put on my bunny slippers; put the cat out; started cooking bacon and eggs; still need coffee to wake up, so I can put on Paula Deem and enjoy myself; and you come over here talking about Kilroy and self-motivation. I was already motivated before you came over.”

“See, you’re complaining already, just what I’m talking about.”

“How do you want your eggs this morning?” I asked.

“Did you check the expiration date?” he responded.

“Harry, can I get a straight answer, please?” I asked. “Obviously you forget that I’m always in the world of confusion before coffee.”

“I’ll take them scrambled, but not watery like they were on Friday.”

“Oh! OK, here is the frying pan and two eggs. I guess you can get self-motivated. I’ll be in the next room watching Paula. The bacon is cooked already. It’s an honest solution.”

“It’s Sunday!” He said in disbelief.

“Yes, and I just asked God for inspiration. I said ‘God please help me deal with this man, who questions my cooking; doesn’t pay for the food; watches that idiot Glenn Beck on my TV; stores his flip-flops on my screen porch; and thinks he can solve the world’s problems because he is being influenced by chronic complainers.”

“What chronic complainers?” He asked.

“FoxNews!” I answered. “They could be 'Mikey' in a cereal commercial. Just think about how much more pleasant your world would be today, if after watching all the wonderful tributes out in Shanksville, by our former First Lady and Michele Obama yesterday, you put on ‘Funniest Home Videos’ or a nice documentary about Jacques Cousteau, instead of Fox News, on the TV.” I said.

“Very Funny!” He said sarcastically. “Obama’s got the whole world on a sinking ship, and you want me to watch comedy or some guy’s life story, whose son got killed in a submarine.”

“It’s the way you look at things, Harry. Why dwell on Obama every day, when you can simply vote him out in 2012?”

“That’s when the Mayan Calendar runs out and it will be too late.” He said.

“Oh, so you saw that movie too! No wonder you are grumpy. You would prefer that they skin Obama alive in 2010, so you can watch and buy Gold because the world is coming to an end? That makes a lot of sense. You’re going to have to trust me on this, Harry. If you watch every comedy movie ever make via Netflix between now and the primaries, instead of Fox News, your blood pressure will drop 20 or 30 points," I said.

Nothing will change, Fox has made a soap opera out of our Commander-in-Chief called Pry Him Out. You will be pleasantly surprised at the new list of candidates for 2012. Maybe the media will show some respect for the next person we elect. After all, Obama is our president, not the dictator they depict. He consults with the Secretaries of Agriculture, Commerce, Defense, Education, Energy, Health and Human Services, Homeland Security, Housing and Urban Development, Interior, Labor, State, Transportation, Treasury, and Veterans Affairs, as well as the Attorney General. As far as I know, Secretary Kathleen Sebelius is not a communist,” I added.

“Damn! and you didn't have coffee yet? Will you make me some scrambled eggs, if I wean myself gradually?” He asked.

“How about watching the cooking channel with me today?” I answered. “Paula Deem doesn’t spew hate and makes a hell of a good old fashioned American apple pie. Then, we can go out to the movies and see Bruce Willis in Cop Out.”

“OK, it’s a deal,” he said.

Yes! There really is a God for chronic complainers after all!

Bobcat Goldthwait Hires Phil Davison as Stand-In

2010-09-10T23:22:00.006+01:00

Bobcat Goldthwait got such a kick out of Ohio Councilman Phil Davison’s speech in his bid for Canton County Treasurer, that after he lost the nomination, Goldthwait hired him as a stand-in.

Read news article

Harvard put Davison’s speech on its curriculum as “How Not to Deliver a Political Speech.”

I think Goldthwait made a good choice, yes?

Kanye West Grovels

2010-09-05T22:13:00.003+01:00

Hip-hop star Kayne West is feeling the heat for interrupting Taylor Swift’s performance last year, and he has been trying to express his remorse on Face book with over 900,000 followers and Twitter. His fans have been showing their disappointment over him grabbing the microphone and stating that her trophy should have gone to Beyoncѐ. He has had to cancel one tour with Lady Gaga, when a group of Taylor’s fans had too much beer to drink and peed on his Ferrari.

Barack Obama, who is known for his eloquent speaking and upscale adjectives, called Kayne a “Jackass.”

Read the News Article

As soon as he heard that his bottom line was going down the tubes he began sending Tweets like "How deep is the scar ... I bled hard ... canceled tour with the number one pop star in the world ... closed the doors of my clothing office."

He tried blaming his mother for his bad behavior on Jay Leno. If that wasn’t enough, he stated that he was on an ego trip and tweeted that he was finally over himself and has written a song for Taylor Swift.

He didn’t give a title. Maybe it is “Yo Mama Please Forgive My Rude I Need Fans.”

Does the Glenn Beck Show Mirror an AA Meeting?

2010-09-03T18:16:00.006+01:00

Washington Post columnist, Kathleen Parker thinks that Glenn Beck’s show mimics the principles of an Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting.

“Beck's 'Restoring Honor' gathering on the Mall was right out of the Alcoholics Anonymous playbook. It was a 12-step program distilled to a few key words, all lifted from a prayer delivered from the Lincoln Memorial: healing, recovery and restoration.” she said.

Read the news article

Well, I guess Kathleen has a point when you consider that this is what he thinks of the mentality of his viewers, right?

I delved further into his theories and found that Kathleen actually knows her stuff. This is how most people react behind his GUI interface while he is going off the deep end about things like George Washington’s Inaugural Address:

Let’s hope that we all have the “serenity” and “courage” to hit the remote control and the “wisdom” to know when.

August 28, 2010 – Beck Had a Dream

2010-08-28T04:30:00.011+01:00

"You're going to see the spirit of God unleashed." ~ Glenn Beck

As the “Rally to Restore Honor” takes place today, you should know that Dr. Alveda King will be on hand to speak, making sure there are no drive-by shootings by the far left in front of the Lincoln Memorial.

A recap of the event will be available at Insider EXTREME, for big bucks. If you are among the poor, unemployed Americans, you are S.O.L. However, you can go to "The Kid From Brooklyn" website and get the inside scoop a little cheaper.

If all else fails in Washington, DC, a FoxNews spokesperson recommends listening to the message of Neil Cavuto:

Louis Farrakhan will speak on Scooby Doo.

Tom Hagen quit his day job as Consigliere to help people find Jesus:

The FDA admitted that if it had to label the far left for the rally, they would be stamped on their foreheads accordingly:

egalitarianist
communist
anarchist
Lenninist
Trotskyist
Luxemburgist
feminist
green anarchist
Maoist
anarcha-feminist
veganarchist
pacifist
Check the label, don't be fooled.

So, I say, when both sides figure out how to survive together without labeling, the world will be a better place and they might get a bigger turnout for celebration.

Paul the Octopus Embassador for 2018 World Cup

2010-08-23T21:50:00.005+01:00

© Parry Gripp

Paul the psychic octopus is making headlines again. This time, he has been selected as an ambassador for England's bid to host the 2018 World Cup.

Read news article

Several weeks ago, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad locked tentacles with the popular cephalopod. He unjustly accused Paul of being a spy and spreading Western Propaganda.

Ahmadinejad said that "Paul is a symbol of all that is wrong with the western world.” He probably bet on the losing teams when Paul accurately predicted the winners in all eight World Cup matches.

Read the news article

Someone stood in front of Paul's tank and read the news article to him. Boy was he mad! Bubbles began rapidly rising and bursting at the surface of the tank and he uttered what sounded like "Tozz fiik" in ink. A bystander said that means "screw you" in Mahmoud's native language.

Paul was born in England in 2008 and currently resides in a comfortable tank suite at Sea Life Centre in Oberhausen, Germany. Not only is Paul not a spy, but I doubt that he even knows what propaganda is, let alone distinguish it as either eastern or western.

Paul, nicknamed Zhangyu Di (Emperor Octopus) in China, has also taken that country by storm. Stuffed octopus toys are selling like pooda and a full-featured biography is being filmed.

The leader from Iran, not only believes that Paul is psychic, but that he has some negative impact on society. Mahmoud is responsible for his country's economic lapses and total disregard for human rights; but, is he thought infallible on matters of psychic octopodes?

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad ya Homaar should call 1-800-GAMBLER.

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

Do We Really Need More Sex?

2010-08-20T14:21:00.002+01:00

Sexologist and sexuality educator, Logan Levkoff, Ph.D., has been getting inquiries from guys asking how they can get more sex with their wives. I didn’t think they needed more than one shot and you’re good for the whole day, but what do I know?

Read 5 WAYS TO GET YOUR WIFE TO HAVE MORE SEX WITH YOU

I was intrigued by this perceived notion that they needed more, so I invited a few friends over for girl talk. Only two could spare the time to come over, Eileen and Helen. So, I made coffee, took a cake out of the freezer, printed out three copies of the article and set them on the table.

My friend Helen is married to an anal retentive housekeeper. Since he retired, he has taken charge. It’s a complete role reversal. She commands the lounge chair and the remote control and says things like “Hon, can you get me a beer?”

Eileen is in a second marriage with a guy, who is still paying alimony and child support for five kids. She has to work, but is off today. Rather than stay home and have sex, she decided to come over to see what all the fuss was about.

“Yo!” Helen said, while reading the article,“Take away the Ph.D and she is a dominatrix.”

“I’d let him grope, but I can’t afford it.” Eileen responded.

“Right!” I said, “Just what I thought. Most of these experts lead sheltered lives.”

I took a poll and also found out that none of us watch “Desperate Housewives” either, except for Helen’s husband Ralph. He even has the CD collection and often fantasizes while doing laundry.”

Just then the phone rang, it was Ralph looking for his wife. I could only hear half the conversation.

“What do you want?” Helen asked.

“So, toss some baking soda on it and put a lid on.”

“The fire extinguisher is in the hall closet.”

“Don’t cry, we can eat out, it’s OK”

“Yes you can use it on the cat’s tail. The snippers are in the top drawer.”

“I’ll be home in an hour. I want to ask you something.”

“Do you feel you are getting enough sex?”

“Never mind who’s listening.”

“No, you don’t have to strip and put on the tool belt.”

“I love YOU more.”

“No, I love YOU more.”

“Later.”

She hung up the phone and said “So what’s the big deal? He can get laid anytime he wants.”

“I’m waiting for 2012,” Eileen interjected.

Smokey and the Buckfast Honey Bees

2010-08-18T05:41:00.006+01:00

"I saw that, you sombitch! You did that on purpose! You're going away till you're gray! I got the evidence!" ~ Buford T. Justice

It was a real life scene from “Smokey and the Bandit” in Wake County, North Carolina, yesterday. Sheriff’s Deputy Brandon Jenkins was trapped for over three hours inside his patrol car, which was swarmed by 50,000 Buckfast honey bees.

Read news article

The truck driver, who was transporting the bees, was trying to take a nap on the side of the highway, but the bees were getting a bit testy and kept him awake. So, he figured that he would let them out for some exercise. The hive was still in the truck, so the bees hung around outside.

Along came Deputy Jenkins in his marked Dodge Charger with a spotlight checking the truck’s stickers. The bees didn’t like it and became hot and bothered.

One-by-one they landed on Jenkins’ windows blocking his view.

Jenkins became suspicious and thought that the driver was wanted in another State and had trained the bees as scouts and lookouts. So, he got the radio dispatcher to run the license plate of the truck.

“I got the first three numbers, and then a swarm of bees lit on my windshield,” he told the dispatcher.

“No, I haven’t been drinking Jethro’s moonshine. I need a backup and a beekeeper!”

“Did you hear me, boy?”

“Stop laughing and call the Sheriff. I’m going to die out here.”

“I tried blowing them off.”

“Yes, I used the damn gas pedal.”

“Don’t you get it? They are stuck on here!”

“I can’t go faster, I can’t see, you idiot!”

“A grip? I’m going to kill you, boy!

Green Pigs and the Mosque

2010-08-15T20:33:00.007+01:00

Excitement is heating up over the proposed site of the new mosque near Ground Zero. Critics are up in arms saying it is an insult to America, while Obama is approving its construction in Manhattan on the site of the 152-year-old Burlington Coat Factory only two blocks away.

Of course, I had to investigate the whole fiasco. So, I went online and looked up old maps of Manhattan Island. I found that in 1644, Dutch Colonists owned the site and it was used primarily to grow tobacco and raise pigs. There are copies of the old maps on the Internet if you care to find them. Just Google “Manhattan Early Maps.”

When I zoomed in on one of those maps, I found a scattering of green spots. It piqued my interest, so I started looking up green pigs and leprechauns.

Wow! A solution! The only pig-free area back then was in an area now known as the Corporate Limits of Hoboken, NJ.

I also discovered that pig feces is not biodegradable, but stays in the soil for thousands of years. It is a source of many microbes and bacteria. Radon gas is a close comparison to what happens to pig feces when it is absorbed into the soil. I guess I should e-mail Governor Paterson.

While researching, I also found the history of green eco-pigs on YouTube. The breed still exists. I hope you like it. It shows how the area of NYC, just off the Holland Tunnel, must have looked in 1644, only they dressed differently and didn't cage the little rascals:

Interviewing a Fed-Up

2010-08-11T15:54:00.000+01:00

In the old days, ordinary citizens were called the silent majority; today, we are known as Fed-Ups and Tea Partiers. I guess some of us joined a tea party because the political BS arena was getting a bit too convoluted and over-brewed. We need to make a difference. The Fed-Ups, on the other hand, are just saying “meh!” until the next election.

This morning I found only one interview that echoed my own sentiments about politics and the national economy.

We are faced with Wall Street slumps, a Ground Zero mosque, a flight attendant singing Johnny Paycheck’s “Take This Job and Shove it,” a landslide in China that killed 1,100 of our creditors, Tiger hitting bottom, the rise of the stay-at-home husband, and gluten-free food that you don’t want to eat.

Here are my sentiments:

‘The Plan’ According to Uncle Harry

2010-08-07T17:13:00.007+01:00

This morning, I was craving apple fritters with cinnamon. I made extra because I knew the aroma was going to travel across the back yard into Uncle Harry’s window. His apartment is way too close to my kitchen and he can’t resist the smell of apple fritters. He knocked first, and brought his own brown sugar.

He had a copy of The Times and was chuckling about an article regarding Glenn Beck and “The Plan.”

Apparently, the source of his amusement was the fact that Beck has been telling people that God has given him some inside scoop on a master plan.

Read news article

“In my generation, at his age, we didn’t question any plan,” he said. “You woke up in the morning, ate breakfast, took out the garbage, and went to work. Recyclables were invented later, by man.”

“Yeah, well the media has to sell corn flakes,” I responded. “If they didn’t question a plan or something political, they’d be off-the-air.”

“Every Christian I know, understands that we have all been saved already. Two thousand years later and they think it didn’t take the first time?” He asked. “Beck should just chill about God and stick to politics.”

“If he did that,” I said, “We’d have Obama getting impeached for being a communist because he read Woodrow Wilson’s book ‘On Being Human.”

“I think God would have to direct him to the 11th Commandment, you know, the text that didn’t wrap on Moses’ stone ‘Mind Thy Own Business.’ It’s His plan, who’s Beck? There are only two things I know of that can make you go blind - locking yourself in the bathroom ...”

“OK, don’t get nasty.” I said.

“Well, honey, I don’t need the news media trying to instruct me about God any more than I’d listen to a Putin interpretation of my civil liberties. They all have some insidious motive.”

“OK, so don’t listen,” I said. “Eat your fritters.”

Harry smiled and ate some fritters, while still reading the article shaking his head.

A few minutes later, he asked “How long do you think before he begins telling people he is the incarnation of Edgar Cayce and starts his own research and enlightenment association?”

“I’m going to burn the next batch, if you don’t start reading something else,” I said. “He thinks he’s doing us a favor. You know we’re not supposed to think for ourselves. For that, we need marketers, high technology, and FoxNews.”

Can You Type With Your Toes?

2010-08-06T17:58:00.003+01:00

Homeland Security has been studying the incident in Atlanta, GA, where Amy Windom was victimized, but managed to send a life saving text message from her laptop using her toes. Now Homeland Security has signed an agreement with Toshiba for alternative laptop keyboard designs allowing for hallux (toe muscle) deviation. They plan to beta test it in Arizona.

Read news article

After reading the news article, I realized that it’s a good thing Amy is only 39 years old and has good eye sight. I set up my own simulation and couldn’t even find the keyboard with my toes. The first thing that happened was the mouse pad and external mouse hit the floor and joined the dust bunnies under the bed. When I tried to slide my big toe across the keyboard mouse to click on “Start,” to launch the IM software, I got a nervous twitch and hit the quick-scan on my virus protector, so I had to wait an hour.

Since I used my husband’s old police handcuffs to simulate Amy’s wrists tied to the bed post, I also had difficulty trying to grab the key with my other toes. It had taken a nose-dive with the mouse and was wedged between the night stand leg and the molding.

My cell phone was playing video games in the next room, indicating that family members had called about three times already.

I spit out my gum, mashed it into the wedged key with my left foot, and whistled for the Golden Lab, hoping that she would retrieve it for me. All she did was pick both up in her mouth and run out into the kitchen.

I was stuck. It was only 10:00 am. I just laid there trying to figure out how I was going to explain this to whoever came home first.

I quickly thought of answers:

1. Some orangutan broke into our house and mistook me for Harry Callahan’s girlfriend.
2. I’m doing research for a column? - No, too lame.
3. I heard an illegal enter my house, so I figured I’d scare him off?

Mel Brooks’ “History of the World” was playing on the classic movie channel and my bladder finally gave out with Harvey Korman. I’m in the soup:

Billionaires Do Something Useful

2010-08-04T19:35:00.004+01:00

I’m not quite sure if they can save Social Security or will even try, but I had to do a double-take when I saw that Warren Buffett and Bill Gates, two card sharks from cyberspace, actually convinced over 40 billionaire friends to donate half their fortunes to charity.

Read news article

You remember Buffett from Omaha. He’s the guy who asked people to invest $10,000 with his company back in the late 50s/early 60s, and not ask for any of it back until December 31st each year. You had a one-day window of opportunity to sell your shares. That's when Berkshire Hathaway was selling for about $14 a share on Wall Street, mortgages were averaging $10,000.00, and you could buy a new car for less than $2,000.

Couldn’t you kick yourself? Warren still eats hamburgers and “A” shares of Berkshire are now selling for $120,000 each. I was too young to invest at the time, and my allowance wouldn’t cover it; but I often thought about writing a book about time travel where the protagonist meets up with Christopher Lloyd, travels back to 1960, moves to Omaha, and gets rich.

Bill Gates used to be on my “S*it” list. I’ve cussed out Windows so many times that I’m surprised that it doesn’t give me more error messages at startup. It all began back in the 1980s when I just loved the control of using Norton Commander on my 70% IBM-compatible PC. I had everything down to a science using function keys. Then, Windows came along and screwed up everything. My PC became the Twilight Zone. If you are a techie, you know what I’m talking about. Everything has to be developed their way. Software is the only product in America that has quality control guidelines allowing it to be released with bugs. If Toyota tries it, it’s a major recall.

So now these two guys have started a charitable organization called The Giving Pledge. Of the 400 billionaires in America, they have convinced 40 of them, so far, to join and donate half their fortunes to charity. I was always told that charity begins at home, so I will send them my address upon request. Poor writers have good use for petty cash. My writer friend, Sherry, is having her 10th baby in January. We can do something about the floccinaucinihilipilification of our respective budgets.

The $3 Million Wedding

2010-07-31T17:34:00.011+01:00

Service, tents, food, booze, location, hired help - $2 million dollars
Porta potties with porcelain seats - $1 million dollars
Human bidets - priceless!

In the old days when weddings were planned, we rented the pool table space at Dad’s VFW Post or American Legion hall. Then, everybody brought a side dish and Grandma baked a five-layer Duncan Hines with whipped cream icing. Mom and the maid of honor shopped at Kresge’s Five-and-Dime for centerpieces and a small bride and groom statue for the cake. Party poppers were used in lieu of champagne. The total cost was under $1,000. That included the dress, which was a bleached composite worn by many dead ancestors.

In the old days when you sent out the wedding invitations, everyone knew where to show up, the time of the ceremony, and where they were going to spend the night. You never had to send bloodhounds (in this case the family mastiff) out on a reconnaissance mission to round up your guests.

Of course the newspaper reporters were not reverting back to swinging from trees either. The bride and groom were all too happy to pose in front of the half-moon outhouse door for pictures, as it was now elaborately covered in black-eyed Susans (hopefully not a bad omen of The Best is Yet to Come by Rocky Balboa).

The divorce rate was lower back then too; plus, assets and prenuptial agreements were non-existent.

The band usually began with a Newfoundland ugly stick and ended with "Chelsea Morning."

How in the hell can you spend $3 million on a wedding? I asked myself. Does it cost that much to ensure that none of the bidets are illegals?

If Chelsea writes a “How To Spend $3 Million Because You Can” book before my last daughter gets married, I’m going to hide every copy and bribe my kid to elope.

"Don't worry about it, Mom," my daughter said. "Rumors have been circulating that The Onion has offered well over $1 million for an advance copy of the vows, just to see if they have really been patterned after the bride and groom's favorite Dr. Seuss story. Other tabloids have made similar offers for photos. The $3 million is covered."

I’m told that honeymoon suite entertainment, in this case, was not a lavish choice. While all the other details are confidential, the wedding planner offered this video as proof:

To read my column Skinny Dipping click here

To buy my book “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” click here

E. B. Heron in Boston

2010-07-24T16:46:00.007+01:00

E.B. wearing his Mystery Monkey of Tampa Bay T-shirt on I-90, Boston

Rose A. Valenta, E.B. Heron, Mary DiZazzo Trumbull, Eileen and Jimmy Keck - Robert Benchley Society gathering,
July 17, 2010, Boston.

Last weekend was amazing. I took E. B. Heron, the official mascot of the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop to Boston. There, he met up the folks at the Robert Benchley Society. As you know, E.B. was actually named after E. B. White, who wrote for The New Yorker Magazine and occasionally hung out with Robert Benchley and Dorothy Parker at the Algonquin Hotel in New York.

E. B. Heron thoroughly enjoyed himself; first, donning his Mystery Monkey of Tampa Bay T-shirt enroute to Boston, and then wearing a nice tux for a black tie dinner aboard the yacht, “Secret Love” (I will post more about dinner with photos later).

E.B. now has his own fan club on Facebook called The Letters and Travels of E. B. Heron. You can look him up and follow him as he travels around the country. You might also want to send a friend request to Elwyn B. Heron to delve deeper into his private life and photo albums.

He doesn’t drive, so he relies on trusted Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop members , a.k.a. “Ermies,” to take him on special road trips and visits.

He is a bit if a pain in the car, yelling things like “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” or “Open a window, I gotta go!” So, not all of the Ermies volunteer to take him on interesting excursions. Plus, you must never call him names like "Flat Stanley" or he will not get into the car.

So far, he has traveled with humorist, Wanda Argersinger, author of Life in the Land of Confusion - http://www.wandaargersinger.com/blog; Jody Worsham, author of The Medicare Mom http://themedicaremom.blogspot.com; and me.

I can usually pacify him with goldfish crackers, but he is one tough cookie.

This year, I called Enterprise Rent-a-Car and leased a Chevrolet HHR to drive from Philadelphia to Boston. The car was roomy enough to give E.B. his own suite by the back hatch. The Goldfish crackers kept him quiet until we reached a rest stop on I-90, then he beat my ear all the way to Beacon St. I made a wrong turn and had to backtrack out on the expressway. I was ready to toss him out of the car, but he was reprieved by a sign on the highway that read “U-Turn to Boston.” Apparently, a lot of other people transport herons to Boston too.

On Friday, I took him to David and Mary Trumbull’s cabana at the Clubs on Charles St. where he behaved himself near the shrimp. Then, we went to dinner at Scollay’s Square, where he met Ed Tasca, winner of the 2010 Robert Benchley Award for Humor and author of the new humor novel, Lub Dub.

E.B. Heron and Ed Tasca at Scollay’s Square, Boston

I had to sneak him past the registration desk at the Omni Parker House Hotel, but managed to get him into the elevator before anyone noticed that he was inebriated.

Saturday night was the main event, the humor awards dinner. E. B. wore a hand-made designer tuxedo from the House of Argersinger in Pensacola, aboard the private yacht Secret Love.

I will post more fiascos later in the week.

Off the Beaten Path - Boston’s Touch of Class: Poet Mary Millis

2010-07-20T01:36:00.003+01:00

Mary Millis autographs her books at Emmet’s

“Such feasts! The laughs of many a jocund hour
That shook the mortar from King George’s tower;
Such guests! What famous names its record boasts.
Whose owners wander in the mob of ghosts”
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., about the Omni Parker House Hotel in Boston.

While I’m waiting to gather some really good photographs to post about my weekend trip to Boston for the 2010 Robert Benchley Society gathering, I thought you might like a glimpse of a wonderful poet, who lives near the Omni Parker House Hotel. Her name is Mary Millis. She is not yet famous, but I know that she will be and Mary adds a delightful touch of class to the area.

I ran into Mary accidently at the Church on the Hill. While the others in my group went on a walking tour, Mary and I decided it was too hot to walk and snuck off to Emmet’s Pub at 6 Beacon St, for a light lunch. We already had bagels with butter, jam, and cream cheese, cake, donuts, coffee, and juice at the church; but just entertaining the thoughts of possibly walking two miles made us hungry and our feet decided on their own to quit for the day.

I was staying at the Omni Parker House at 60 School St., which used to be the hang out for famous writers such as Hawthorne, Longfellow, and Thoreau. Little did I know that the real inspiration was only a half-block away.

The Hotel was lovely; the service was excellent, as was its overall ambiance. I won’t rate the room, as my mother always said “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything.” All I can say is that Superman changed outfits in bigger five-star phone booths. So, we sought some solitude at Emmet’s. To me, it was such a pleasant coincidence to meet up and have lunch with a local Boston poet. BTW, the clam chowder at Emmet’s is the best.

Mary loves to inspire people. Unlike most poets, she is very outgoing and in tune with people. We shared family stories, fiascos, and laughs over coffee. We both have grown children and grandchildren, who make our lives enjoyable and interesting - most of the time.

We exchanged books. She was gracious enough to autograph her books for me at the pub, as I read some of her poetry. She is a great photographer and uses her pictures as illustrations. Mary is just beginning to research and learn how to use social networking, so she does not have a blog, or a Facebook/Twitter account. I will let you know when she does.

In the meantime, I will share just one of her many poems from “On Wings of Wind:”

Friendship is a Tree

A friendship is itself sincere
And rooted as a tree.
It probes the heart in search of truth,
It seeks integrity.

Its fertile seeds draw nourishment
Where God has placed His hands.
The changing seasons, full of life
Give strength where friendship stands.

The tree grows stately and serene
Its budding leaves increase.
The fruits of friendship blossom forth,
To bring us joy and peace.

And just as in a time before
New seeds will fall and drift
To settle in another heart
And share their precious gift.

So far, Mary has authored “On Wings of Wind, “In Harmony With Heaven,” and “A Matter of Significance.”

I made a new friend! Mary is going to look me up on Twitter (@rosevalenta) and Facebook when she joins. Its great going off the beaten path sometimes, isn’t it? It makes life so much more interesting and inspiring.

If you would like to buy copies of Mary Millis’ books before she goes online, just send me an e-mail egret100@comcast.net and I will put you in touch; or you can write to her via snail mail at 130 Bowdoin St., Suite 1805, Boston, MA 02108.

If you would like to purchase an autographed copy of my book "Sitting on Cold Porcelain" just click on the "Add to Cart" button on the left panel.

Book Signing - July 17th in Boston

2010-07-13T16:19:00.005+01:00

If you are in the Boston area this weekend, you will be pleased to know that the Robert Benchley Society (RBS) is holding its seventh annual gathering, July 16-18, to honor the beloved American humorist, Robert Benchley.

A free book talk and reading event is scheduled at the Boston Society of the New Jerusalem, the Church on the Hill, 140 Bowdoin Street (churchonthehillboston.org) at 11:00 am Saturday, July 17th. It is open to the public and several authors will be signing books, including me!

The winner of the 2009 Robert Benchley Award for Humor, Ed Tasca, will be present to sign his latest humorous tales of adventure with his new comic novel, Lub Dub, published by Rose Heart Books. Tasca is a native Philadelphian. His work has appeared in many humor publications throughout the U.S., Canada, and Mexico.

Several authors will be available to sign copies of their books following the book talk and reading. It is entirely sponsored by the RBS. If you plan to be there, please stop by and say “hello,” I love meeting my readers and I know you have many interesting things to tell me.

About the RBS: The Robert Benchley Society is a forum for appreciation and discussion of the work and life of twentieth-century American humorist Robert Benchley. The Society formed in the spring of 2003 in Boston, Massachusetts. Our membership is international and includes persons with scholarly interests in Robert Benchley as well as persons who just like to get together over drinks for the mutual enjoyment of Robert Benchley writings and motion pictures. If you would like to join contact:

David Trumbull
130 Bowdoin St., Apt. 1110
Boston, Mass. 02108 USA
or by e-mailing david@robertbenchley.org

Will There Ever be a SLPGA Tour?

2010-07-12T21:56:00.007+01:00

While my friend Wanda Argersinger is getting stumped about her “Life in the Land of Confusion” over a staple remover with a design that was probably influenced by Willie Wonka’s Black Mozart Sparkler recipe, I’ve been reading more about Tiger and his Mr. Bill inner voice, saying "Oh Nooo, she gets $750 million dollars!" and wondering why women are still not allowed to join Augusta National Golf Club. God knows that we women golfers have the kahones to sign up, right?

Also, in my quest to figure out why clocks run clockwise, I was wondering why is there no such thing as a Senior Ladies Professional Golf Association (SLPGA) tour? After all, there are SPGA championships for men like Fuzzy Zoeller, who can still find the green and the hole. What will great golfers like Annika Sorenstam and Se Ri Pak be able to do when they reach Nancy Lopez’ age and get a little fuzzy?

I want to join Augusta when I retire and have the time to play golf. I want the sheer pleasure of putting a flowering peach divot in the middle of the hole #3 fairway because I can; play, rather than paint the 13th hole; say a little prayer for Martha Burk in Amen Corner; climb the Eisenhower Tree; Jump into Record Fountain (with my clothes on) for getting a hole-in-one; eat a hamburger in the same room as Warren Buffett; and discuss my first difficult billion dollars with T. Boone Pickens, Jr.

No more of these defective staple removers, double standards for golfers, and totally uncool vanilla flavored whey protein drinks. I like blueberry, cherry, orange, lemon, and mango.

10 Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

2010-07-09T18:25:00.004+01:00

There's a man who leads a life of danger
To everyone he meets he stays a stranger
With every move he makes another chance he takes
Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow

Secret agent man, secret agent man
They've given you a number and taken away your name.

~ P.F. Sloan and S. Barri

A spy swap took place in NYC yesterday; it was the biggest bust since Peter Sellers' escapades in “The Mouse That Roared.”

On Monday, 10 Russian spies were brought into night court in Miami, FL. One-by-one, they caved and confessed. A defense attorney couldn’t figure out why they gave each other up so easily. Then, he peeked under the defense table and saw The Mystery Monkey of Tampa Bay with a Black and Decker ball buster enjoying himself.

Judge Ito questioned each of the U.S. Defendents, who were hiding here under assumed names working odd jobs, and blending in with American society. One gentleman blended in so well that he kept forgetting to call his Russian contact, but kept sitting in Dairy Queen every day enjoying the blizzards. He also forgot exactly what he was supposed to be reporting to his contact.

The 10 U.S. defendants were captured sometime during the July 4th holiday and were found to have false passports, secret code words, fake names, invisible ink, and Little Orphan Annie decoder rings.

White House chief of staff, Rahm Emanuel, told reporters that the 10 were being deported in exchange for a few Americans that were arrested for spying in Moscow.

In Russia, the Kremlin said that President Dmitry Medvedev sent a YouTube video to the White House showing an American spy downing shots and spilling his guts on Russian TV. He had also been caught painting "Kilroy Was Here" signs in the St. Petersburg subway.

The U.S. Department of Justice had enough when two of the Russian spies became famous on Facebook: Anna Chapman for indecent exposure, and Igor Sutyagin for selling Fabergé egg knock-offs. They sent the Kremlin a YouTube video of their spies demonstrating gross stupidity.

Upon being deported in night court, the spies were flown to NYC where the exchange took place. The Russians were last seen stumbling off a plane in Vienna on Thursday. The stewardess had served each of them about twenty shots of Double Cross Vodka.

Postal Rate Increases: Stop With the JibJab Stamps

2010-07-07T00:59:00.004+01:00

Photo Courtesy of Danny Gallagher - http://www.dannygallagher.net

The Post Office is raising our rates again to 46 cents for First Class mail in January. They wouldn’t have to keep raising the rates if the boys in the executive suite would only quit playing craft games and JibJab with our money.

It costs extra to print stamps with pictures and drawings of Oscar Micheaux, Kate Smith, Katherine Hepburn, Cowboys of the Silver Screen, Pansies in a Basket, Bill Mauldin, Gary Cooper and Bob Hope. They should economize and keep it simple like just the American Flag and Liberty Bell.

If I want stickers, I can buy them separately.

When I send Uncle Harry a birthday card, I like to put stickers all over the back. He is partial to the Marx Brothers and the Post Office hasn’t figured out how to JibJab Harpo, so I shop at Michael's or A. C. Moore. It keeps my creative juices flowing.

I hate to spoil their fun, but we need to cut costs. I don’t need a choice between the Liberty Bell Stamp with or without the butt crack, you know?

They could sell us a bunch of blanks that are compatible with LaserJet printers and let us do our own thing. We can customize our own stamps and keep it at 44 cents.

I like the Danny Gallagher Stamp (pictured above). He is the famous author of “Movies That Suck” and an all around nice guy. I’d like to use his stamp whenever I write to Congress about government spending.

It would also keep Postal employees postal.

Rebecca Petner Campaign: One Day Left to Vote

2010-07-02T18:26:00.000+01:00

Philadelphia native, Rebecca Petner, is campaigning big time for a shot at her own talk show on the Oprah Network. She already has an impressive 180,000 votes, but needs more!

Celebrate the start of Independence Day weekend by helping her realize an American dream.

Rebecca is a La Salle graduate and also attended the Philadelphia Improv Theatre (PHIT). She is a very talented lady.

Please vote for her here: Vote for Rebecca