Somewhere deep down inside - every guy on the planet knows that a woman would sell him out for some chocolate. And it doesn't even have to be the good kind.
I grew-up hearing and reading the more traditional versions of folk tales and nursery rhymes. Many of which were developed during times of social crisis. Are dark, Covid-inspired stories in our future?
Growing up in northeast Ohio, every teenager hears at least one version of this campfire story. Halloween adventures were never complete without a quick drive over Crybaby Bridge on Wisner Road.
Some of my Rusyn family stories - like this one, well ... I am sure there is a word. The fate for the protagonist in the Slovak film Cigán provides an entirely "relatable" perspective.
I planned this over a month ago. And almost scrapped it with the recent news. Oh well. Might as well go ahead and celebrate my sliver of Irishness. And the origin of my annoying - but tastefully spaced - freckles.
Hmmm. This is a square peg, round hole solution. The original version of this was a little too disturbing for today's sensibilities. One side benefit is the salt should make the humor drier. And, uh, saltier.
For this to make sense? You need to know what a "safety town" is. And that a "chicken flying contest" is a real thing. Attend a rural county fair for proof. Or search YouTube. Using that exact phrase. But that's no fun.
O beautiful for spacious skies; For amber waves of grain; For purple mountain majesties; Above the fruited plain! America! America! ... If people with narrow minds knew what Katharine Lee Bates was thinking? Pop!
I am clearly too stupid to ever comprehend the Universe. But. Fortunately. There are those primitive areas of my brain. Filled with family stories. Of witches, spirits, sorcery, premonitions. Like from my Scottish ancestors ...
A Script Analysis prof gave me Beauty and the Beast. This was my response. I hate guessing. I loathe games. Feeling like a mouse. Studied in a maze. Does Belle TRULY want the miracle? It's her boundaries vs his needs. Go Cavs!
The latest "factaganda" in-the-wild implies that too few lives were lost - relative to previous pandemics - to justify "ruining the world's economy". First. Ummm. Second. An extrapolation from the "smoke detector" analogy ...
Back in High School, I worked for a little while in a grocery store. Based on my interactions with customers I started to understand some of the nature of seasonality and nostalgia. But. I will never. Ever. Get Peeps.
(a) Silypadish Sunday! A quick flashback for the Frog Prince explaining why he is waiting where he is waiting. Anyway. I hate coincidences. But. It’s time to have some fun with them. May this be my ticket for entry into …
My father and grandfather were in a Friday night bowling league in the 1970s and early 1980s. I started to “tag along” when I was about five years old. I learned to keep score and how to bowl, too. Yay! Um, life skills?
How much of “me” would be lost if I swapped my “thinking” brain for a pumpkin? Since 99% of what we do is involuntary in some sense – whether autonomic functions, biological urges or societal programming? Probably not much.
In high school we debated Ted Bundy’s execution. We continued in the CAFETERIA – where someone said “those things can’t happen here”. Three months later? Jeffrey Lundgren. Anything can happen anywhere. Because people are anywhere.
I guess THIS would add a whole 'nother level to "Mary had a baby and her head popped off". Ahhh. The nostalgia of childhood "pagan" rituals - which beats "prayers" any time. Like stepping on cracks to get back at mommy. Yep. Those were the days gone by …
One of the first plays I remember attending – I believe in the 2nd grade – included a dramatization of "The Princess and the Pea". I think that was perfectly appropriate, considering my unhealthy fascination with fairy tales.
Coming from an extended family that is heavily involved and invested in the arts – I have spent more than my lifetime's fair share of existence attending or helping with art or craft shows. And while I have never done one just for myself – never say never. Well, on second thought. Say it.
When you need an emotional swing? It's time to go silly! I definitely heard an Aussie accent when I wrote this line. Not an everyday one. But an exaggerated, over-the-top, Nikki "Bush Barbie" Osborne kind of accent. Caution: no frogs (or dingers) were harmed (or used) in the making of this cartoon.