Category Archives: Humor

I want a do-over, please.

I want a do-over, please.

First all, let me state that I love sweets. So much so that I was born on Pi Day (March 14, also know as “today”). When I want to celebrate, I love cakes and pies and brownies and all those other great sugary sweets. When I’m feeling down, nothing makes me feel better than a decadently delicious helping of just desserts. When I go grocery shopping, my hubby can count on at least a dozen donuts being in the bag for breakfast the next morning. Sweets and Meats are tied for by biggest pregnancy cravings. Southern Sweet Tea is by far my favorite drink.

And yet, today, Pi Day, my birthday, is probably the worst day of this entire year.


A few days ago, I failed the one hour blood-glucose test, and had to subjugate myself to the three hour version yesterday morning in my Obstetricians office, and the outlook is dismal. I just may, pending results, have Gestational Diabetes.

No cake. No sweet tea. No partaking of that delicious Caramello bar that my hubby got me for my birthday.


The worst part of this all is that I am banned from the one fail-safe that makes me feel better when the only thing I ask for on my birthday is a clean house… and I end up giving that present to myself. It is also the fail-safe that keeps me sane when birthday plans get canceled last minute due to unforeseen circumstances. Just like a lot of people take their spine for granted until it’s injured, I’ve taken my ability to eat sweets for granted, and it is extremely depressing. Lock-myself-in-my-room-and-cry-for-hours-depressing.

And then my Husband asks “This is just pregnancy hormones, right?”

taylor stabbing a cake

Featured image was found on minimal exposition, a blog by Bethany Pierce. Please go check her out for more destroyed deserts artwork. 🙂


Writing Prompt #3


“The dictionary atop your shelf has more than 200,000 words defined. Why don’t you blow off some of the dust on its cover and randomly pick out ten words? Don’t look at the meanings; just concentrate on the words. Write down your chosen words on a (blank) sheet of paper. Now you’re going to have fun creating meanings for those words. What do the words make you think of? What do you think they should mean?”

Capsicum – (ADJ.) If something is capsicum, it is on the precipice of reaching its peak, or being at the top of its game. CAPPED, one might say. An example use of this: After a capsicum career, the sanitation worker could think of nothing more than getting out as soon as possible. Alternatively: (N.) The highest point of fulfillment. Example: The Sewer had finally reached the capsicum of excrement.

Boanthropy – The brotherhood of boyfriends. Related, boanthropology, the study of boyfriends, has existed since the dawn of the human relationship, though it is colloquially known as “gossip”, and is greatly practiced in many female circles. The prefix is derived from the old term for boyfriend, “Beau”.

Euneirophrenia – A mental disorder in which one believes himself to be a reborn and reformed version of Emperor Nero. Such individuals tend to have acute fears or aversions to Fiddles or Fire.

Groak – A sound between a groan and a croak. Alternatively, “Groak” is also the name of a pixie like creature that lives in the swamplands of Louisiana. The lure their favorite food, frogs, with imitations of their various mating calls, giving the Groak its signature sound and name.

Preantepenultimate – before the beginning of almost the ultimate ending of everything. Subscribers to the theory of the Butterfly Effect could say that the wind causing the butterfly to flap its wings was a preantepenultimate occurrence.

Timmynoggy – this is an indelicate drink created by the Snarflewoggins as a means of celebrating the Carflookle of Snogsburgs birthday. Since no one liked the Carflookle of Snogsburg, the drink tends to taste like the mix of a Fliggy’s toe jam and the musk of a cogsnerg. The actual ingredients are far worse.

Zarf – This rare creature is found only in the most alien of places. So alien, in fact, that the Zarf is in fact extraterrestrial. Being roughly the size of a mastiff hound, the Zarf is a florescent green color and has a large proboscis, roughly two feet in length. It stands on two legs, and has wing-like protrusions from its shoulders instead of arms. The proboscis is used as the main method of manipulation of items. The Zarf, though flightless, can manage to remain airborne for approximately 10 yards, given a good enough running start. The wings can also be used to soften the falls from the numerous cliffs of its native landscape.

Quisquilian – A creature that has sharp quill-like protrusions that seem to quizzically serve no purpose.

Scroop – The technical name for anything found on the underside of a shoe.

Rasceta – A delectable dish made from antelope cheese and noodles processed from rare varieties of gluten-free, calorie-free, carbohydrate-free monomolecular wheat particles. It is often garnished with leaves adorned with the first dew of spring, cryogenically frozen to preserve freshness.


ACTUAL Definitions (via google):

Capsicum –  noun – a tropical American pepper plant of the nightshade family with fruits containing many seeds. Many cultivated varieties with edible, pungent fruits have been developed.

 Boanthropy is a psychological disorder in which a human being believes himself to be a Bovine.

Euneirophrenia” is a peaceful state of mind that occurs after experiencing a pleasant dream.

Groak – to watch people eat hoping that they will offer you some of their food

Preantepenultimate (Latin prae-, before) is one step further back still, making it the fourth from the end of the series, the last but three.

Timmynoggy – a device the saves time and labor

zarf (plural: zarfs, zuruuf, zarves) is a holder, usually of ornamental metal, for a coffee cup without a handle (demitasse or fincan).

Quisquilian – consisting of trash and rubbish.

Scroop – rustle of silk.

Rasceta – creases on the inside of the wrist

… I think I like my definitions better.

Writing Prompt Challenge #2: Caged


Prompt # 2: A picture is worth more than a blank page. Take out those dusty photo albums. Pick out photo #14. Count however way you like, but make sure you stop at photo #14. Look at the photo for 2-3 minutes. Then for 10 minutes, write all the feelings that photograph made you feel. Don’t censor yourself. Just write.

Okay, So I did what I was asked. While I take the 2-3 minutes to write this, I’m now studying the picture and getting some feelings. In a moment I’m going to start the 10 minute timer… Wish me luck. J



I don’t know how long it’s been since my incarceration, but the time has started to eat away at me. I fiddle with my fingers, my hair, my clothes, anything to keep my mind from going crazy in this chamber of deprivation. I’m left with few items with which to occupy myself, but nothing seems to hold my attention like the seemingly teeming amounts of LIFE to be had on the outside of my solitary confinement. I am at least given a blanket, but no pillow. I suppose my captors fear that I would suffocate myself for lack of entertainment. I am also given sufficient amounts of drink, also probably to stave off the desperation that comes with thirst.

I am not entirely alone in my “Solitary” confinement, however. Mr. Biddles is with me. He is a very quiet chap, and not much company, but the length of his ears amuses me, so I tease him. He is either a very good sport, or an idiot who does not understand my ridicule of him, for he never retaliates. I am leaning towards thinking him an imbecile.

Between the two of us, the blanket, the beverage, and the dull drone of the warden’s television set, there is a puzzle of sorts. Even with my dazzling wit, and Mr. Biddles’ modest (or nonexistent) wit, we can’t seem to master the puzzle. I know that the answer to our freedom lies within the solving of the device. Five concentric rings, aligned along a vertical post… If only I could figure out the arrangement.

In my frustration, I yank on Mr. Biddles’ long ears and drag him across the puzzle, longing to start a prison riot to escape the dissatisfaction of my predicament. The rings are no longer concentric, scattering across the base of my confinement cell in all directions. I then begin to scream.

Finally, my warden returns from her vigil at the television. I lift my arms while I scream, incidentally still holding Mr. Biddles’ by the ears. She lifts me from my jail, and I smell freedom for the first time in forever. Life is good.




🙂 Yep, I bet you know what my #14 picture was of.

What do I do now?


For all of my dear writer friends out there, and all my lovely followers, I want to share a little post-nan0wrimo wisdom with you. YOU AREN’T FINISHED! (insert maniacal laughter here)

writer tree

So true. So very, very true. I am still a student in the way of the writer, myself, but this bit of author humor seems to strike a certain chord with me. I’m working on book two of my Riesa Grimshaw series, but after the flurry that was November, I had to take a break from my novel. I had to step back and breath for a moment. I had to read someone elses words for a while. I had to forget what I wrote so that I could go after it again with fresh eyes.

And that is the story of how I managed to read seven harlequin romance novels in nine days. It’s my guilty pleasure, what can I say.

Admittedly, I did keep a running notepad of ideas while I was taking my “break”. The better to edit with, my dear.

Time to go back to work, I guess!

Straight from the Horse’s Mouth


It has arived once again! The 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups, going on Week #38  =)

I loved this weeks idea! The prompt was to write a sonnet: abab cdcd efef format, at least 14 lines, around 100 words, in honor of the Great Shakespeare! But the Twist, oh the twist… To incorporate this wonderful painting, entitled “St. George and the Dragon”

St. George and the Dragon, Painted by Raphael


I couldn’t get over that horse’s expression! So, here is my horrible Shakespearean Knock-off, For the…

Straight from the Horse’s Mouth

St. Georgie-Boy, I knew him well,
That true and loyal soul!
But woe befell with sudden yell,
A dragon in the hole.

Dear faithful maid, with virtue sure
At least as Georgie knew,
Sat by and watched with motive pure,
Her captor runneth through.

But unbeknownst to George or Maid
The truth quite hidden sly,
The dragon wasn’t quite as bad,
As one beknownst to I.

A right old beast, was dragon, true.
Of this I don’t refute,
But as Georgie-Boy was sure to rue
The woman’s tongue acute.

Remember this, my beamish boy,
When faced with beast or maid,
The woman hides her fiendish way,
While the beast is plainly laid.

Poking fun at myself with a stick!


I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Okay, so a friend of mine tweeted this link to me not long ago. It’s supposed to be a statistical analysis site that tells you which famous author you most write like… The above tag was generated for me when I put the first page of chapter eight into the widget window.

Curious, I skipped to chapter fourteen, and repeated the process. This gave me:

I write like
Isaac Asimov

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

By this point I was dumbfounded. I skipped to the last chapter, rinse and repeat. I copied the entire chapter, put it into the widget box, turned a few levers, and …

I write like
J. K. Rowling

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Now, for fun, I put in the FIRST chapter of my book…

I write like
Margaret Mitchell

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!


According to this software, my book starts off like Gone with the Wind, hits the middle like Carrie, reaches the climax like I, Robot, and wraps up like Harry Potter

So I put in my book in its entirety…

Gone with the Wind + Carrie + I, Robot + Harry Potter =

(This took a while to analyze)

I write like
Margaret Mitchell

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

So… “As god is my witness, come insane psychics, killer robots, and evil wizards, I will never go without lip gloss again!”