InSanity~Normalize, Don't Stigmatize Mentall Illness.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thanksgiving Love

Introduction: The following was relayed by the fly on the wall. Note that this would be the same courageous yet depleted fly that zips from wall to wall whenever he hears someone exclaim, “I’d like to be a fly on that wall.” According to the fly, this brief segment typifies Thanksgiving meal conversations overheard from wall to wall throughout the country.

Junior: Put some turkey on my plate, you bastard.
Stevie: Are you calling me a turkey?

Junior: No, I’m calling you a bastard.

Stevie: Okay. White or dark meat?

Mama Dolores: That’s enough boys. You’re grown men now. Quit the squabbling. Herb, stuff it! Stuff that turkey. It’s too dry, and you haven’t done a damn thing all day. Like father, like son. Junior, I remember when your cousin Mike made a pass at Auntie Mabel one fine Easter Sunday. You stood there like a dummy and didn’t say anything to protect her.

Junior: Ma, I was only 6 years old, and that was 35 years ago. Would you let it go, already!

Mama Dolores: Yes, 6, and a well spoken child, slender and fit, I might add. You just stood there like a bump on a log. It’s no wonder you can’t keep a good woman.

Papa Joe: Dolores, it would be nice if you took the cranberries out of the can and put them in a bowl for a change.

Mama Dolores: Excuse me?! You come strolling in here just three hours ago, turn on the boob tube, and tell me I need to do more work to satisfy your snoody-patoody tastes. I’ll tell you where you can put the damn cranberries! Sally, when is that loser of a husband of yours going to get here?

Sally: Ma, he’s sitting right next to me.
Mama Dolores: Oh, well in that case, have him pass the rolls. Wake him up first, would ya, it’s rude to sleep at the table! Let us all now join in prayer. Thank you Lord for this blessed meal with our loved ones.

The fly and this blogger: Wishing you a peaceful, non-typical start to the holiday season!

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Tryptophan, Shmyptophan!

Ladies and Gentlemen, with no further delays, it’s that time of year to welcome back our special dinner guest: Tryptophan!

For centuries of inspiring humankind to say “Lets go to bed!” I hereby present a Word of the While Award voted unanimously by this blogger.

A few incidentals of note-
Tryptophan’s best features: light breasts and dark thighs
Tryptophan’s pet peeves: caffeine, methamphetamines, crack and crank

In backwards form: Nahp-ot-pyrt

Definition of aforementioned backwards form = a recommended brief engagement to sleep in order to perk up, eat leftovers, then nap again.

In rhyme and with enthusiasm verging on madness: Tryptophan, Shmyptophan!

Definition of aforementioned rhyming form with enthusiasm verging on madness = Oy, Tryptophan, Shmyptophan!

Lexicological study:

1Trip-to-fan = traversing to see one’s admirer
2Trip-to-fan = embarking on a journey, the goal of which is to keep oneself properly ventilated by waving the hands up and down in close proximity to one’s forehead
3Trip-toe-fan = falling over an air cooling system that was placed on the floor and hurting one's big toe in a big way (Who put the damn thing there anyway?)

Mixed with chocolate:
Choco-phan, e.g.., me.
Tryp-co-phan, = falling over an air cooling system that was placed on the floor, while madly rushing to get the last piece of chocolate on the counter (Who put the damn thing there anyway?), in the presence of someone attractive.
Tryp-too-late, = falling over an air cooling system that was placed on the floor (Who put the damn thing there anyway?) while madly rushing to get the last piece of chocolate on the counter, but damnit, you’re too late!

In limerick form:
There once was a turkey named Nate
Who couldn’t control his weight.
He ate seaweed and Ensure
But that wasn't the cure.
So fat Nate became dinner for eight.

Tryptophan, shmyptophan!
Sweet dreams, one and all.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Award and 7 Things About Me

Thanks to Sarah Landry, one of my best bloggy friends, for this award! Sarah's fun loving spirit shines through all of her writing. See

Recipients are asked to: 1. Thank the person who gave the award to you. 2. Copy award. 3. Post it in your blog. 4. Tell us 7 things that your readers don't know about you. 5. Link 7 new bloggers as recipients. 6. Notify winners of award with a comment on their blog. 7. Keep being awesome!
This somewhat flimsy but well deserved bouquet goes to:

(1) Katie Maskovich at Very sharp and funny.
(2) LC's What a Girl Wants at One of the funnest sites there is!
(3) Wreckless EuroAfrican He takes us to a dark, dangerous part of the world with great writing and humor.
(4) Mama Stress at Delicious recipes and sights.
(5) Worth viewing for the pics alone!
(6) beautiful, deep, courageous expressions by a teen.
(7) Love this hateful blog!

I play by the rules, so here are 7 things you don't know about this blogger:

1) I hate wearing shoes.
2) I'm the same height as former US Gold Medal Gymnast, Mary Lou Retton.
3) I'm not a gymnast, but I can do the final landing pose (arms up, chest out) without flinching.
4) I failed my driving test after making a left turn before waiting for oncoming traffic to pass.
5) In that moment, the instructor could only mouth "Oh Lord!"
6) I do have a number of redeeming qualities that more than compensate for my driving debacles. I'm humble, so I won't expel details. However,
7) I make and eat a delectable double-chocolate cream cheese cake.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Crazy Zone

Newly divorced, I’m in the crazy zone. Only those who've survived a divorce can understand this zone. There really aren’t words for it. One of the symptoms, however, is akin to an addictive rampage. I’ll admit, I am (or used to be) a nice girl. But nowadays, I’m devilishly relentless. Bottom line: I really, really need to get it! My tongue and loins ache for it.

In retrospect, I had very little during the marriage. When I did get it, the anticipation was the best part. The ultimate reality, though, didn't sate me. This explains my current burning need for the warmth and comfort, the excitement and ecstasy. My desires are off the charts. I’ll take it from just about anywhere, anyone, and several times a day or hour even. I don’t stop. I won’t stop. Hell, I can’t stop. It’s crazy.

In retrospect, my ex had a desperately lower level of desire. It really wasn’t until after the honeymoon that I came to realize I was making such a lifelong sacrifice. He had spoiled me a bit while courting, before losing interest entirely. Thus when he declared a divorce that fateful night, the thought of getting it again was the one thought that kept me going.

In the past year since the separation, I have thankfully enjoyed it more than ever, through wonderfully luscious experiences. It’s been incredibly comforting and orgasmic. In between doses, I burn for all of it: the passion, the grinding, the panting, sweating, licking, and slow swallowing – it’s entirely beyond the heavens. God, I love chocolate!