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I’ve been duped. Tricked. Lied to. Taken for a ride to disappointmentville by a fancy I’ve held for years. In reality no one told me a falsehood. Like most times I find myself disillusioned, I did it to myself. A starry-eyed dreamer, I tend to put things onto such a pedestal that once attained, they can’t measure up to expectations.

Who can forget the Chia Pet of the 70′s that I saved and saved for. Don’t even get me started on sea monkeys. I had such high aspirations for them after seeing them on the back page of Mad Magazine. The promise of joy died quickly because the only time they moved was when I shook them out of the bag into their simulated habitat. Ant farms, the bass guitar, a shiny pastel jacket that I thought would be an absolute chick magnet. I was amazed when I found that on the discount rack and wore it proudly to school with my sleeves pushed up, only to find that the world had moved past Crockett, Tubbs, Miami Vice, and the style I flaunted. That first new car I had to have post-college before I understood the stranglehold sixty easy payments could be. I won’t even mention women of my youth, like Hilda* the friendly barkeep. For a foolish lad, women are the most dangerous sort of thing to deify.

I could go on. There have been a litany of things I prized – nah, idolized – right up until I got my grubby mitts on them.

And so, now, I am disappointed with baldness. I have always wanted to shave my head but been dissuaded by my lovely wife, who likes hair on my head, but not on my chin. If you recall my rant about Tom Selleck, I have never truly been satisfied with my hair. Current circumstances gained me quick approval to remove it and I did so excitedly.

I don’t like it and here are my grievances:

1. I always assumed it would be low maintenance. It is not. To my dismay, the hair on my head grows as fast as the hair on my chin. Who knew?

2. I thought it would save money – no shampoo, conditioner, or gel. See complaint number one, razors aren’t cheap and every shave seems to chew through one.

3. Who knew the skin under my hair was even pastier than the rest of me? I’m told paint stores can mix approximately 140 shades of white, welcome to Pure White.

4. When I was twelve, my football team had to get me an adult helmet, then pad the sides because my cranium was so long. Any time I hit someone, the thing wobbled side to side. Head shapes don’t change, they just expand. Let’s play a little game, shall we? I like to call it:

 “Which one is Mark’s head?”

 

♦

Surprisingly difficult, is it?

 

So you can see why I’m disappointed. Like most broken things in my life, I have no one to blame but myself. I lifted baldness onto a throne it simply cannot occupy. Fortunately, I can grow my hair out to fix this monstrosity…but not quite yet. Part of me feels a little like a rebel since this has been against the marital rules for so long. And that, I like.

 

*Name changed to protect my stupidity

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THE GEOGRAPHY OF YOU AND ME by Jennifer E. Smith Age Range: 12 and up Grade Level: 7 and up Hardcover: 352 pages Publisher: Poppy (April 15, 2014) Buy the book: Amazon AUDIOBOOKPublisher: Hachette Audio Narrated By Leslie Bellair, Corey BradberryWhispersync for Voice-readyLength: 6 hrs and 29 mins Lucy and Owen meet somewhere between the tenth and eleventh floors of a New York City apartment

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A quite lively discussion has blown in from space on a friends Face-postcard about something I forgot because it went a completely different way in short order and is now a history lesson on indigenous peoples.

It was said the “Native “”American”” people” were here first and that they claim to be “Indigenous” and that they have their traditional stories to back up their claim to properties etc.

That got me to thinking (usually leads to minor disasters) that just because someone in your past lived some place and told creation stories doesn’t always mean you have any more rights than the guy who was born there after you lost the battle, in my case way after.

I know, growing up, my mother used to tell me, when I asked how I got here that I came from heaven and perhaps, if I’m a good boy, God will give me land there again though I think he may balk at the casino I want to build even if it is to take all the sinner’s money or credits or what ever the currency of his realm is.

And further more if in the past there was only one super continent, Pangaea or what ever they really called it, then we all have a claim to everywhere cause we are all descendants of the original inhabitants and I’ll bet a dollar to a doughnut there aint anywho who can tell me where they thought they came from even after the break up.

I thought perhaps we are all from Mars via the Pleiades star system but had to leave cause the Marshonians wanted the place back so we moved on as they had come from the Hercules system to Mars first.

To send every one back to where they came from is stupid, you can’t fit that many people on Ellis Island let alone grow enough hemp there to have a trade economy with New York.

I don’t know the answer other than if we don’t start being natives from “EARTH” the little grey men will boot us out and wipe out the myths of our origins from then to eternity.

It’s a race none us may win …

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My day job is in the world of high-tech. No, I’m not a brilliant engineer who designs all kinds of innovative, life-changing products. I only sell to them. For a fairly normal bloke, trying to relate to such people can lead to all kinds of challenges.

You have to understand, these are people who don’t see the light of day very often. Most of their time is spent on computers, whiteboards, and in dark laboratories concocting the next bit of technology that we normal folk can’t live without. They often spend sixteen hour days in their precious lab and forget to eat, sleep, shower, or have any useful form of human interaction. These people are completely devoid of emotion, but can chart its theoretical development in sixty-three different types of graphs. I am talking about the type who can build his own robot to maintain his house yet can’t waste enough mental energy to hit more than three of his seven belt-loops.

Now you know the kind of people I deal with on a daily basis. It can be fun. They look down on my intellect, but can’t understand even the most basic joke I throw out. When I rattle off something witty, I typically get a blank stare or an uncomfortable chuckle.

We have a small office in this world of technology. Ours is in the back corner of the building and on my trips to the lavatory, I frequently run into these geniuses – sometimes quite literally as they are too preoccupied with vast equations to look up when they walk. There is a door I walk past that leads to what I call, The Muppet Factory.

I don’t know what goes on behind that door because it has one of those coded locks  with a scanner on it. I’ve tried punching all kinds of numbers on it, but it is probably some precise code that average people don’t have enough memory to retain. All I know is that the people who come in and out of it resemble cartoon characters come to life. The first one I saw was a dead ringer for Beaker. A Keystone Cop emerged one day followed by Animal. Several other characters have been spotted lately. Olive Oil works there, but we have yet to see Popeye. It is simply fascinating.

Now, when I walk down that hall, I go very slowly and sing things like, It Ain’t Easy Being Green, and Mahna Mahna to see if I can lure one of them out. No dice, thus far. They stay in their lab building more Muppets or stealing people for their evil machine that does it.

In this world of High Tech, I wonder what the goal of their Muppet Factory could be. Is this fandom run amok? Or is it a demented project to design a more colorful and aesthetically pleasing exterior for engineers and programmers? It is beyond my intellect to know, but I remain curious. So if you see people walking around who look suspiciously like cartoon characters, be wary. They my just be plotting something that we won’t understand until we are all subject to the vain whims of our new dictator, Miss Piggy.

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Sometimes, a playwright is privy to a conversation that just begs to be written. Okay. Perhaps begs is too strong but this was over-heard while standing in line in Walmart (no less) waiting to pay for some items. It went something like this.

SCENE: WALMART. Long line up of people waiting to pay.

THE CAST:

SALLY (60-ish female)
FLO (80-ish female) and mother of SALLY

SALLY
Lot of people today, mom. We're gonna have to wait a bit

FLO
People always seem to shop at Walmart when it rains. I wonder  why

SALLY
Nothing better to do, I guess

FLO
Uh-huh...maybe...

(SALLY's attention is on the magazines located in the check-out aisle. She shakes her head)

SALLY
Sad...really sad

FLO
What?

SALLY
Miley Cyrus

FLO
Who?

SALLY
Miley Cyrus

(SALLY points to photo of Miley Cyrus on magazine cover)

SALLY
You know Miley Cyrus...

FLO
Who?

SALLY
The singer?

FLO
Name sounds familiar...

SALLY
Remember she used to be in Disney movies? Such a sweet thing she was. Sad...

FLO
Is she dead?

SALLY
No - but if she doesn't change her life style, she could be

FLO
Oh...

SALLY
She was in the hospital, y'know

FLO
She sick I suppose?

SALLY
Yeah...could say that. The girl exposes herself

FLO
She's not wearing a lot of clothes. Perhaps she susceptible to colds

SALLY
I read somewhere that she has a heart murmur

FLO
Didn't know that. My friend, Phyllis has heart problems - so does Arthur... They take a lot of pills, especially the pink one's with a heart on it? Everyone I know takes them.

SALLY
Says here she was hospitalized for an allergic reaction to antibiotics. She probably over-dosed on drugs and they're just saying that to cover up

FLO
Arthur over-dosed on water pills. Couldn't stop peeing. Hadda go to the doctor. I told him, 'Arthur! Just put in a plug.' He didn't like my suggestion. Good. We're next in line

SALLY
Such a good girl, she was. Wonder what makes a girl like her suddenly do all that sexy stuff?

FLO
M-o-n-e-y!

SALLY
Her dad was Billy Ray Cyrus. Remember him? Achy-breaky heart guy?

FLO
They play that when we do line dancing at the Seniors Center. Lots of steps to remember but nobody cares when someone forgets, unless of course they trip somebody. Last week Sam forgot what direction he was supposed to go and Phyllis ended up with a sprained ankle.

SALLY
Oh well...hope Miley sees the light and gets normal again...

(replaces magazine back on stand)

FLO
Aren't you gonna buy the magazine?

SALLY
Neh. I finished it waiting to pay for our stuff. Poor Miley...

FLO
Whatever...

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I made a discovery amidst my family’s unfortunate new reality. Since I am not a genius, I am sure most of you already knew what I just found out. However, it solved a long-standing conundrum for me.

I’ve been doing the dishes in my domicile for about a decade. There are two reasons and both pertain to my lovely wife. First, her hands get dry and cracked sometimes after she washes dishes. It isn’t a big deal to pitch in and do something, so I figured I could help AND save money on expensive lotions. The second reason is that she said I never looked sexier than when I’m elbow deep in soap suds. If that ain’t reason enough, I don’t know what is.

We have this long running argument about the necessity of some pots, pans, and utensils to the cooking process. I believe that she has an evil plan to soil every dish we own – thus my dirty kitchen apocalypse theory. She discounts my hypothesis and doesn’t seem to care anyway. I still maintain that chocolate chip cookies shouldn’t require seventeen items to make. Yet every time I smell them cooking, I know I have seventeen new items to wash.

All of that leads to today’s brilliant finding. She had been at the hospital with our youngest for two weeks. It has been a rough stretch with me playing Mr. Mom. Thanks to the generosity of others,  I have yet to cook (a fact that makes my other daughters very happy since my culinary expertise doesn’t extend past piling things on bread.) I noticed during the last few days that I didn’t have many dishes to wash at all. Bonus!

We finally got to bring our sick baby home this week and, lo and behold, within an hour the sink was full of dirty dishes. Nothing could dampen the joy of the reunion, but I admit I was slightly peaved. So I playfully confronted the offender with the revival of my dirty kitchen apocalypse theory.

My lovely wife didn’t flinch, just laughed and waved me off.

“But I haven’t washed this many dishes in two weeks,” I complained to her back as she walked away.

“You have to cook to make dishes,” she replied over her shoulder.

Ahhh, so that explains it.

And off I go to fill the sink with suds, hoping she’ll take notice.

 

photo credit: Mysid (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

 

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Just a little bunny fun for Easter!

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Angleberger, Tom. 2014. The QwikPick Papers: Poop Fountain! New York: Abrams.

(Advance Reader Copy supplied by publisher)

A bi-racial, Jehovah's Witness girl; a poor boy from the trailer park; a nerdy Jewish boy—all victims of school bullying.

Sounds like a perfect trio of protagonists for a serious book of realistic fiction, doesn't it? But it's not—not really. These are the founding members of Tom Angleberger's hilarious new creation, the QwikPick Adventure Society, which makes its debut in a new series, The QwikPick Papers.

So, what do this Jehovah's Witness, Jew, and very poor kid have in common? At first, only that each has nothing to do on Christmas Day.  Marilla and Dave don't celebrate Christmas and don't enjoy spending time at home.  Lyle's parents have to work at the QwikPick convenience store all day. But don't feel sorry for them.  It's the perfect day for a secret mission to visit the Poop Fountain, an antiquated aeration device at the town's waste water treatment plant.

Written as an illustrated "report" by the QwikPick Adventure Society, this novel of only 135 pages, Poop Fountain! is stomach-churning disgusting at times, and hilariously funny at others.  That's why kids will love it, but it's not why you should.

You should love it because Angleberger has proved again (as in the Origami Yoda series) that he can tackle sensitive subjects with charm and  a good deal of humor.

     Everybody else was talking about the Super Bowl coming up that weekend, but we all agreed that it was stupid and football was stupid and the Redskins' mascot was stupid.
     Unfortunately, Jeremy heard me saying something and hollered down the table, "Hey, if we wanted any of your crap, I'd beat it out of you."
     "Shove it, Jeremy," said Dave, which was the nicest thing anyone had ever said in my honor.
     When it was time to go, Marilla said, "Hey, if you want, I'll save this seat for you tomorrow."
     That was when, without them even knowing it, Marilla and Dave became my best friends.

Other reasons for you to love Poop Fountain!, "shout-outs" to

• The Hoboken Chicken Emergency
• Fred Astaire
• The Princess Bride (the movie)
• the BBC

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PROPHECY by Ellen Oh Series: The Dragon King Chronicles Hardcover: 320 pages Publisher: HarperTeen (January 2, 2013) Kira’s the only female in the king’s army, and the prince’s bodyguard. She’s a demon slayer and an outcast, hated by nearly everyone in her home city of Hansong. And, she’s their only hope... Murdered kings and discovered traitors point to a demon invasion, sending Kira on the

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My first experience with Dr. P was a week after we discovered our surprise forth pregnancy. I found myself seated uncomfortably on the metal table being interrogated by a very contemplative man half my height, but with an IQ obviously twice mine. He spoke with a fairly thick accent and seemed dubious of my procedure of choice.

Dr. P, “Missa Myers, you seem very young. How old are you?”

Me, “I’m thirty-four.”

Dr. P, “How old your wife?”

Me, “She’s thirty-three.”

Dr. P, “Oh, that very young. You sure you want this?”

Me, “Yes Doctor, I’m sure.”

Dr. P, “You know, this permanent. You might want reversal, but it maybe not work.”

Me, “I know. I’m sure.”

Dr. P, “Your wife sure? She know?”

Me, “Yes, she knows.”

Dr. P, “Okay, you sure. Just one more time I ask, because you maybe not go back?”

Me, “Dr. P, we just found out we were pregnant with our fourth child.”

Momentary pause for contemplation.

Dr. P, “Oh. In that case, why you not come see me sooner?”

He checked a box on his form and left. The procedure came a few weeks later. I’ll mention no specifics except to say that once I was prepped and ready, the quiet, secluded corner room seemed to turn into Grand Central Station. Nurses, accountants, inspectors, magazine vendors, interns, dog walkers, board certifiers, and I think a few pharmaceutical sales reps all of the sudden had important business in my room. Finally the good doctor came and did his work. I left hoping to never see Dr. P again. No offense, but I thought seeing him again meant a fifth bundle of joy. I was wrong.

My second trip to see him came after experiencing some discomfort during a long run. Until then, I had no idea that Urologists did everything! When I went back to the very same room, there sat my friend, Dr. P. who remembered me distinctly.

“How your baby?” Dr. P asked.

Me, “She’s doing great. Six years old now.”

Dr. P, “How old are you?”

Me, “I just turned forty.”

Dr. P, “You know, Missa Myers, we start thinking about prostate health at this age…”

 

I’ll leave the rest to the imagination. Based on my experience with Dr. P, I have some advice for men.

First, when your Urologist asks you your age, consider consider the ramifications of the question.

Second, when you are greeted by your friendly Urologist, remember that his hands have been places that my dog’s nose only dreams about.

 

 

I poke fun at my interaction with Dr. P, but men’s health issues are not a laughing matter. Fortunately, I only had a couple of kidney stones that were easily blasted out. Get checked when it is time to get checked, men. Others are counting on you!

 

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Below is my review of I Even Funnier: A Middle School Story, as it appeared in the March, 2014, edition of School Library Journal. I loved it!


PATTERSON, James & Chris Grabenstein. I Even Funnier: A Middle School Story. (I Funny Series, Bk. 2). 3 CDs. 4 hrs. Hachette Audio. 2013. $18. ISBN 9781478925156.

Gr 3–7—Wheelchair-bound Jamie Grimm is working on new material for his upcoming entry in the regional finals of the Planet's Funniest Kid Comic Contest. Patterson and Grabenstein pay homage to the timeless comedy of Abbott and Costello, Groucho Marx, and other greats, while introducing new jokes that speak directly to the middle school experience. Though it will date the series more quickly, references to trendy Vegas casinos and comedians such as Ray Romano, Ellen DeGeneres, Steven Wright, and Chris Rock give the book an air of hip relevancy. Can Jamie find humor in his bullying cousin, Uncle Frankie's medical emergency, and confusing relationships with Gilda Gold and "Cool Girl?" Yes, he can. And if you're wondering if a heavily illustrated comedic novel can make it as an audiobook, that's a yes, too. Young Frankie Seratch is perfectly cast as the narrator of this heartfelt and very funny look at middle school and family relationships. Seratch ensures that the humor comes across as intended, without a hint of mockery or maliciousness. A PDF companion file of the book's illustrations is included on disc three.

Copyright © 2014 Library Journals, LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc.
Reprinted with permission.

• Read an excerpt of I Even Funnier here.
• Listen to an audio excerpt of I Even Funnier here. 

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Pilkey, Dav. 2014. Ricky Ricotta's Mighty Robot. New York: Scholastic. Illustrations by Dan Santat.

While at ALA Midwinter, I picked up an Advance Reader Copy of Ricky Ricotta's Mighty Robot. I know what you're thinking - that's not a new book, that was published ages ago!  Yes, but it's back again, and this time in full color, with glossy pages and new "mini-comics" inside.

All of the Ricky Ricotta books will be reissued with new illustrations, and two brand new books are planned for January and March of 2015.  A big campaign is in the works ... stay tuned.

Read an excerpt and see the new illustrations on Scholastic's new Ricky Ricotta web page.

Coming to a bookshelf near you on April 29, 2014.

BTW, my Advance Reader Copy went home with a very happy young boy, one of my best readers. He was looking for my library's "checked-out" copy of the original Ricky Ricotta's Giant Robot. Imagine the smile on his face when I gave him a new, as yet unpublished, full-color copy! (Luckily, I had read it at lunchtime.)

The original Ricky Ricotta artist, Martin Ontiveros deserves credit for helping to create a series that captured the imagination of a nearly a generation of children.  Dan Santat will refresh the series for the next generation.  Long live Dav Pilkey!

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Age Range: 8 and up  Grade Level: 3 - 7 Series: How to Train Your Dragon Program Type: Audiobook Version: Unabridged Publisher: Hachette Audio Audible.com Release Date: December 10, 2013 Language: English ASIN: B00HNCMW0E Buy on Amazon Chronicles the adventures and misadventures of Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III as he tries to pass the important initiation test of his Viking clan, the

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Age Range: 12 - 17 years Grade Level: 7 and up Series: If Only Paperback: 272 pages Publisher: Bloomsbury USA Childrens (May 6, 2014) Get it on Amazon! The summer before senior year of high school. It’s supposed to be one of the biggest summers of her life, but Pippa is headed to an art program she has no interest in. The one saving grace is it’s in Italy. And when the opportunity strikes,

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Baby laughs to brighten your day.

You’re welcome.

Filed under: Funny

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Filed under: Funny

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The boys act like they don’t like it, or get embarrassed, whenever we reminiscence about their childhood days, but they stick around to hear the stories.

It snowed ya’ll! We had about 1/2 inch of ice first, then 3.6 inches of snow on top of that. And it’s cold, like FOUR degrees cold. This is pretty unusual for March – not so much the snow, though the snow we get is usually the big, fluffy, wet kind, but it’s terribly cold for this time of year. I heard on the radio this morning that we’re now the 10th area for the most snow this winter.

FUN!

(Not. I hate snow/ice).

Anyhoo. School has been cancelled so Bran won’t have to drive to class in this. However – we’re all still going to work so … YAY.

*sigh*

Have a good Monday.

Filed under: At the Moment, Funny

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Have you ever seen someone completely out of context, recognized their face, but it took some time to come up with the venue where you typically interact with them?

Maybe you know a policeman who you typically see in uniform. Then you run into him at your son’s baseball game. The face looks so familiar. “How do I know this person?” you ask yourself until it finally clicks.

Or possibly you are at your favorite Portuguese restaurant and a familiar-looking woman you positively should know is seated three tables away, only you can’t recall her name. Maybe she is an old girlfriend (you’ve had so many), maybe you worked together, or went to the same high school. Also escaping you is whether you knew her well enough that you are compelled to say hello. Through the appetizer, salad, and main course you glance so many times she is wondering if she should call the police or if you are going to buy her dinner. Finally during desert, it comes to you that she’s the teller at the bank, leaving you nothing to worry about except her surly husband whose eyes are riveted on you.

All of that leads me to something that happened recently. For many years, I was an early morning gymrat.  I love going to the gym, but hate much of the meat-market style interaction that goes on there. I hate waiting for the lat press while Joey finishes texting. I loathe the flirting, that guy doing curls in the mirror hoping someone is watching, the girl who is wearing less fabric than my sock, and the people who sweat like they are being interrogated but don’t feel the need to wipe down a seat. So I started going to the gym at 5 am. At 5 am, the gym is full of people who are serious about working out. I made many friends over the years and joined a group of people who ran a few days a week as well.

One evening while at the store with my lovely wife, I saw a lady I knew I should know. While her husband didn’t look the least bit familiar, her face did. Across several aisles, I stared her down. I wracked my brain to come up with my association with this woman, but could not. Finally our paths met, she smiled when and said, “Hello Mark.” Upon hearing her voice, I knew immediately she was part of the running group from the gym.

I replied just like anyone would in the situation, “Hello Patty, I was having trouble placing you for a minute. I didn’t recognize you with clothes on.”

Those words hung there for a second while everyone besides me tried to make sense of them. Me? Oh, I didn’t really know what I’d said, I was just relieved to have the mystery solved. I stood there with a contented smile on my face until I noticed the shock on their faces. I did a mental recount of my statement and went directly to panic mode.

I’ll have that back, please!

Nope, no taking it back. I could only explain that I meant I was used to seeing her in very appropriate work-out clothes.

Yes, I’m still married and no, her husband and I did not tussle! (I could have taken him, though – with all of my bicep curls into the mirror.)

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Have you ever seen someone completely out of context, recognized their face, but it took some time to come up with the venue where you typically interact with them?

Maybe you know a policeman who you typically see in uniform. Then you run into him at your son’s baseball game. The face looks so familiar. “How do I know this person?” you ask yourself until it finally clicks.

Or possibly you are at your favorite Portuguese restaurant and a familiar-looking woman you positively should know is seated three tables away, only you can’t recall her name. Maybe she is an old girlfriend (you’ve had so many), maybe you worked together, or went to the same high school. Also escaping you is whether you knew her well enough that you are compelled to say hello. Through the appetizer, salad, and main course you glance so many times she is wondering if she should call the police or if you are going to buy her dinner. Finally during desert, it comes to you that she’s the teller at the bank, leaving you nothing to worry about except her surly husband whose eyes are riveted on you.

All of that leads me to something that happened recently. For many years, I was an early morning gymrat.  I love going to the gym, but hate much of the meat-market style interaction that goes on there. I hate waiting for the lat press while Joey finishes texting. I loathe the flirting, that guy doing curls in the mirror hoping someone is watching, the girl who is wearing less fabric than my sock, and the people who sweat like they are being interrogated but don’t feel the need to wipe down a seat. So I started going to the gym at 5 am. At 5 am, the gym is full of people who are serious about working out. I made many friends over the years and joined a group of people who ran a few days a week as well.

One evening while at the store with my lovely wife, I saw a lady I knew I should know. While her husband didn’t look the least bit familiar, her face did. Across several aisles, I stared her down. I wracked my brain to come up with my association with this woman, but could not. Finally our paths met, she smiled and said, “Hello Mark.” Upon hearing her voice, I knew immediately she was part of the running group from the gym.

I replied just like anyone would in the situation, “Hello Patty, I was having trouble placing you for a minute. I didn’t recognize you with clothes on.”

Those words hung there for a second while everyone besides me tried to make sense of them. Me? Oh, I didn’t really know what I’d said, I was just relieved to have the mystery solved. I stood there with a contented smile on my face until I noticed the shock on their faces. I did a mental recount of my statement and went directly to panic mode.

I’ll have that back, please!

Nope, no taking it back. I could only explain that I meant I was used to seeing her in very appropriate work-out clothes.

Yes, I’m still married and no, her husband and I did not tussle! (I could have taken him, though – with all of my bicep curls into the mirror.)

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We must have it, or go crazy.

Kudos to this family!

Filed under: Funny

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Filed under: Friday Fun, Funny

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Place your order online or by calling retail and/or wholesale orders at 888-989-0454 or via email at [email protected].

Filed under: Just for fun, My Characters, Peepsqueak!

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Yep!  I did it!  I made it through another colonoscopy with flying colors!  I will let you in on a little survival secret.  How to drink the yucky liquid without tossing your cookies.

Try this method.  This is all you need:

1.  9 – 8 oz paper cups with straws

2.  “The drink”

3.  A timer

4.  A computer and the Pinterest website

My colonoscopy required me to drink 9 glasses of “the drink”.  One glass every 10 minutes!   EEeeeek!

Simply pour the liquid into the 9 cups. Next, go to the Pinterest website. Most of you who know Pinterest, know, that it is a great sucker of time. That is what you want,  you want to be taken away to Pinterest Land and lose track of what you are doing until the timer goes off! Soon you will be ready for cup #2, then #3 and on to # 9!   Viola!  You are done!  Thank you Pinterest!!!! …. and yes,  everything came out just fine!  haha!

Filed under: Kicking Around Thoughts

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Pilkey, Dav. 2013. Captain Underpants and the Revolting Revenge of the Radioactive Robo-Boxers. New York: Scholastic.

Maybe you're not a fan of Captain Underpants, the superhero alter ego of mean, Jerome Horwitz Elementary School Principal, Mr. Krupp.  Maybe you're not a fan of the frequent misspellings of Mr. Krupp's troublesome 4th graders, George and Harold.  However, it's hard not to be a fan of one of the most wildly popular series for young and reluctant readers.  This goofy, irreverent series continues to gain new fans and flies off the shelf with as much regularity and enthusiasm as the flying Captain Underpants himself. "Tra la la!"

This latest adventure finds George and Harold travelling through time with pets Crackers and Sulu, to correct the events of an earlier time-travelling venture that had disastrous consequences for the future.  Pitted against Tippy Tinkletrousers, Tiny Tippy Tinkletrousers, and Slightly Younger Tiny Tippy Tinkletrousers and their Freezy-Beam 4000, George and Harold will have to use their wits if they are to save Captain Underpants and return to the future.  Six great Flip-O-Ramas are included (they make a fun art activity), as well as a 24-page wordless comic featuring Ook and Gluk.

Although the series is suggested for ages 7 and up, I find that much older kids will read Captain Underpants, too - and not just reluctant readers.  I know high-level readers that enjoy Dav Pilkey's Three Stooges brand of humor and art as well.  I'm not much for bathroom or pratfall humor, but Chapter 2, "Let's Get Serious, Folks," had me laughing out loud.   Explaining why we miserable, regretful and grumpy grownups discourage all kinds of fun, the narrator offers readers this bit of advice,

     Keeping this in mind, you might not want to smile or laugh while reading this book.  And when you get to the Flip-O-Rama parts, I suggest you flip with a bored, disinterested look on your face or some adult will probably take this book away from you and make you read Sarah, Plain and Tall instead.
     Don't say I didn't warn you.

When I checked today, Captain Underpants and the Revolting Revenge of the Radioactive Robo-Boxers was ranked #213 on Amazon.com.  Not #213 in children's books, #213 in all books. Not too shabby.  And the reviews?  All 5 stars.



If you think kids are the only ones who follow the adventures of Captain Underpants, guess again. Captain Underpants was even featured on NPR's Morning Edition.  Read or listen to "Hold On To Your Tighty Whities, Captain Underpants is Back!" here.

DreamWorks Animation has the film rights to the Captain Underpants series, but no timeline for production has been announced yet.

Oh yes, and he's got an app, too. Preview the Adventures of Captain Underpants app here.

Update: Forgot to add that Advance Reader Copies were provided at my request by Scholastic and NetGalley.

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