Where did all my friends go? To the farm?

Could you run that by me again?

I have been invited once again to become a farmer on Facebook. Which brings me to the question: Why am I on Facebook and where is Farmville? I don't want to help you with your crops. Leave me alone.

I may join Farmville just so I can let loose a plague of locust followed by an invasion by an army of ants. Is that a possible option?

Why Facebook at all? Some people just have too much free time. They tell you more than you really need to know. I didn't know my Uncle Percy had thirteen bowel movements in an eight hour period. Wow! This is special.

I don't have many Facebook friends. Eighteen, I believe. My wife and I communicate regularly on Facebook. She is one of my friends.

My friend Matt has about eight hundred Facebook friends. I don't even know that many people. Wow! That is a lot of stamps for Christmas cards.

I don't know why Matt has so many friends. He doesn't even have a Farmville farm.

Perhaps it is because he is a tall, tanned, intelligent MB lifeguard who smiles a lot. My wife says he is kinda good looking also. That can't hurt.

There are some causes or clubs on Facebook that I might be interested in. Here's a list of a few that others might be interested in joining.

• Squirrels against frozen nuts.
• Reefer sadness. (Glaucoma sufferers of South Carolina)
• Bad Yearbook pictures. (That is a blog in itself.)
• 101 uses for a human carcass.

Well, at least it's not My Space. My Space is really lovely if you're a 9 year old rap singer.

I've taken steps to clean up my email. This has been a thorny issue for quite a while.

I blocked certain emails. I set up rules. I explained to my friends about viruses. It will block any email that is a forward: I will miss my relatives and friends. I told them that a forward is like having sex with everyone on the list. Some of the guys wanted to know where they could sign up.

A couple said they had herpes so they didn't care. One girl sprayed her computer with Lysol after I told her.

Ah well, I tried. Sadly I haven't gotten an email in three weeks. Not even from Barrister Michael Okubu in Nigeria. He is handling my Nigerian financial affairs.

I expect to come into some money very soon. I hope I live long enough to spend it.

One of my recent emails told me to forward it to twenty four of my closest friends or my teeth would fall out and I would die on January first of next year.

Nice friend!!!

I lost all my friends now that I made some rules. I checked my spam folder, and there seem to be a lot of people who want to be my friends and help me with certain issues. There are so many to choose from, really. Should I go for the breast enlargment or the dates with Russian girls? My wife keeps receiving offers to enlarge her penis.

Oh wait, I can get a free credit score for $29.95.

I guess I can delete a few things.

Apple wants to know if I want to buy an Ipad. (too late) delete.

Amazon wants to know if I want a kindle. Nope! see above. delete.

Amazon wants to know if I want twenty other things. They are making suggestions. delete, delete, delete.

Classmates is offering a premium membership. Already happened. (note to myself.. why am I a member of classmates? Oh, it is called social networking.) delete.

Apple wants to know if I wish to keep my membership for mobileme. Right! basically $99 for email and 5 other things I don't use. delete

Reader's Digest wants me to subscribe to their booklet. I am already subscribed up to the year 2034. Do I want to subscribe to a magazine that is now officially crap and is 50% advertisement? delete

Wow!!! My inbox is totally empty.

I think I will go get the mail....

I'm back.

Let's see what we have today. It is getting close to Christmas. Let's shuffle through all the nice Christmas cards we received:

• the Honda dealership in Vermont wishes us a Merry Christmas and tells us our maintenaince is due. We sold the Honda 6 months ago
• some company in Florida is informing us that it is our last chance to renew our Kia maintenance service contract. We sold that car three years ago
• Bank of America wants to sell us some life insurance
• Visa is telling us what a great deal they have for a credit card

Mastercard is telling me how lucky I am because they raised my credit line by a few grands

I will pin these on the fireplace. I feel so into the season now.

That is my mail for today.

Back to my computer. Oh, some one nudged me on Facebook. It was my wife.

My wife suggested that if I wanted to have her as a Facebook friend I should empty my trash folder or (and I quote) " I will kick your butt so hard and so long that it will end up in Russia and will be so large you will go to a plastic surgeon for a butt reshaping and reduction."

I believe I will keep her as a Facebook friend. Perhaps we can have a little farm together.

Is that any way to treat a hero?

ESSENTIALLY OILED

It all started innocently enough. In fact, I kinda looked upon myself as a hero. Heroes need to be rewarded but that's not what happened.

My wife and I are people who like our home to smell nice. We have many things that have a wonderful aroma. We have numerous essential oils, scented candles, a variety of incense sticks and numerous diffusers. We have something aromatic in every room. We don't count the utility room where Wilson has his litter box.

One day I turned on one of the candle wax warmers, put some oil in it and let it do its job. When I went to turn it off, it gave me a wonderful light show, it started sparking and smoke was coming from the switch. I crawled under the dresser the best I could and I pulled the plug.(I am now a hero. I saved our house, perhaps the whole street, perhaps the whole north end.)

That warmer was finished. Some parts were salvageable such as the glass area where the wax sits in while it is heating up. I didn't throw that away. I will clean it up.

This morning I decided to clean it up. That is when things started getting a little strange. I cleaned off the wax and the essential oil. The essential oil was called "Pussy".

It was recommended by our friend Samantha who has a large booth at the flea market. She had hundreds of different essences to choose from and she said this one was currently a hot seller and it had a nice aroma. We had purchased a few other oils there such as Egyptian Musk, French Lavender, Patchouli, and several others.

Some of the other oils had strange or provocative names. We all had a few good laugh about the one we had just purchased. None of us were prudish about it.

So...while I am cleaning up the essential oil of the day, the doorbell rings. It's my neighbor, Prudence Goodbody, neighborhood snoop and troublemaker.

I open the door and invite her in. What trouble can I get into? My wife is upstairs working.

"Hi, remember me? I'm Prudence....your neighbor? I live a few houses away. Listen, I have this petition for you to sign. It's about our other neighbor's dog. There is dog poop all over the place. I told him we are getting up a petition to get this resolved by County animal control."

Note: This is a strict area for curbing your dog. The city doesn't like dog poop all over the place, especially this close to the beach.

"I'll sign, but I have already resolved it in my own mind. I'm going to scoop up the poop, put it in a bag, put it on his doorstep and set it on fire." I stated proudly.

While I was signing the petition she said, "It smells wonderful in here, certainly better than it does outdoors. What is that aroma?"

In a moment of madness or truthful folly, I am not sure which, I said, "Pussy."

which it was!!!!!

A long silence, then,..... "EXCUSE ME!!!!

Oops!...try to save yourself, son!...try to save yourself.

"Pussy you said?"

"Ummm!..yeah...they were selling it at the flea market. " (somehow I don't think that is exactly what I wanted to say.)

"What!!!!!!!"

Maybe I can still salvage this. "Samantha sells a lot of it, she has a booth."

Nope! Do not resuscitate. no salvage possibilities. This would not be a good time to invite her to the donkey barbecue.

Just go with the flow.

"They're selling it openly in a public place? Oh....my...god!!!!"

"Yes...Yes, a lot of it. People are even asking for "Sex on the Beach" and a lot of other stuff too." I asked her if she would like some.

She slapped me and then fainted. I revived her by throwing a glass of water on her face. I had seen it done in the movies many times. She got to her feet, slapped my face again. Then she called me a perverted pig. She ran away screaming for the police.

When the police arrived, I explained the situation. She over reacted to the name of some of the essential oils. Did I mention that to Prudence? That the aroma was essential oils?..I thought I did. Perhaps I got caught up in the moment.

The police are going to explain that I really didn't want to have "Sex on the Beach" with her......eventually. For now I will just be a hero in my own mind.

sniff! sniff!! It sure does smell purdy in here!!!!!

What is that scent? It's...either Patchouli, sandalwood or.....Is that the doorbell ringing again?

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Well, My wife is watching her 14th straight Christmas movie, the fake fire is going in the fireplace,  I am listening to the "Phil Spector Christmas album".   I am sure I am enjoying it more than Phil this year.  I am listening to Darlene Love sing "Marshmallow World". They sure don't write Christmas songs like that anymore.  Perhaps we could get a petition together to make sure he doesn't get out of prison and write more songs like that. Whew!

Perhaps when it gets a little closer to Christmas I will bring out the big guns in Christmas music.  Maybe I can get Mariah Carey to screech out something Christmasy.  Then my wife will want to listen to Perry Como, Bing Crosby and maybe some French Canadian guy.

I will have to stuff some goodies in his little sock over the fireplace for our boy "Wilson".
He is tough to get to bed on Christmas Eve and an hour after we go to bed, he is on the bed, nudging, head butting, walking on my head, knocking stuff on the floor. He is trying to get us up.
He's hungry.  This has nothing to do with Christmas.  He just gets a little confused.  He is not as young as he used to be.  Who is?  I am an hour older than I was an hour ago.  That's kinda like saying; No matter where I go, there I am.
But I digress.
I Would like to wish all the people who inspired me to have fun with my blog.
First in line will be the little French lady, Chantal.  She encourages me, she would proofread my stuff when I first started out.  She also does some strange things, just like me. I write about them sometimes.
I like it when I write something and I get feedback and sometimes ideas.  For this I thank Bev the bitter hack, Guvanator Jensconsin, Indigo the winelush, Kwizgiver the(fill in the blank), L'empress, Rachael the thesis writer and many other.

There are others I haven't heard from in a while and I wonder how they are doing, like Becca, Judy P in Elliot Lake, Mamakerr in UK, Jo in UK. Larry, Where did you go? Kolliope, where are you? Sunny?
There are others I wonder about.  Well, I wish everybody happiness.  I will try to make you smile. FROM: Wilson, The funny French Lady and the squirrelly one. (me)

An appropriate gift to you all from a squirrel.  "Nuts to You!!!!"
Hmmm! somehow that didn't come out right.