Subject: Things do happen !
Did you know that I am (a hunt and peck typist?) Every time I go to use the key board, the alphabet letters are all in a different place. It’s no wonder that some of the messages I send don’t make much sense. Then when I go to spell check them there are a number of words that sound alike and the speller by-passes them and I don’t stop to think what they mean.
I guess everyone can’t be smart or perfect. But what I do is with the mentality of an ( what ever comes before and after Idiot) is the word (moron or moreoff ) a word that can fit there some place, that’s the word I am looking for.
I try so hard and never get any praise so I end up asking for it and still nothing comes. Yes, if you really knew how much trouble I have in writing things, maybe You would realize how hard I try to please you readers.
I have at least seventy two address of people I write to and maybe six of them that respond to those messages. Maybe another four or five more, that respond once in a while. Then a few that really surprise you when they do send something. The rest, makes you wonder if you are sending to a dead mail box. Or maybe they just don’t care for my winning personality and just as soon remove their address from my list.
In the past, I have had some people tell me what I can and can’t write or send to them. They have been permanently removed from my list. Can you imagine some one that tells you what you can or can’t write? I thought a bolt of lightning was going to strike me down if I didn’t comply.
Yes, if I did quit, then what would I do? Peggy would have me hanging from the closet tree, limb, with-in the week. Or- I could be burnt to a crisp and place in a container - or - a corpse on a slab in a medical college. Haven’t decided which as yet. What ever I was before birth, I will be the same after death.
Funny things do happen. Do you think it possible that I am not as humorous as I thought I was? Sometimes a person can slip on other things, besides ice. The edge drops off fast and the water is deep. The edge is soft and breaks away easily.
Now I Swear that I am as sane as you or anyone else that you know and it is possible that you are only acquainted with people in special homes with high fences.
What if? You are standing much too close to the edge and in you go. The incline is steep and rugged, you will be dead and ripped apart before you clear the first thousand feet. No one will ever know how far it is to the bottom.
A short distance away, a surf-board is sinking, people are yelling and screaming as the water is cold and there are no life jackets on board. One lady has her big mouth open and it is filling with water fast. Another has lost her water proof watch and it is on the way to the ocean floor.
There is but one way that you can be saved from this unfortunate situation. Do you recall that song “ Yellow Bird” go ahead hum the tune and if you know the words, sing it. If that big bird swims under the water and grabs a hold of you. He will carry you off to the top of a mountain. Now you have another problem, care to guess what it is?
Remember the rhyme of “Jack and Jill” going up the hill? Well Jack never was on that hill, Jill was all alone and she never had a pail for water. That big yellow bird grabbed her and flew away with her in his or her claws, want to guess where she is now? She was set down in Rudy’s Valley. It’s a place named after that once popular old time singer Rudy Valley, of Hollywood fame. He was the one that sounded like he had cotton stuffed up his nose, when he was singing and he used a megaphone.
Years ago, when Thomas Dewey was the president, there was a social worker named Martha ( blank.) Since this is just a story, the blank is so you can add a name of your own choosing, a name you like. Well, Martha was responsible for something, and I have forgotten what it was. So we will have to and come back to this later.
Santa never came around last December, because his sleigh bells wouldn’t work and Rudolf’s nose turned blue and dripping. Those tiny hoofs need to see where they are going and Santa didn’t want to over-shoot his stops, so he postponed his delivery until after the following week. Then he learned that he was only licensed to make no more than one Christmas delivery each year and this day was in a new year. Those Elves were going to be very unhappy with all those toys laying around and under foot. Being over stocked is one thing for the merchants, they can have sales, but it somewhat of a disaster in Santa-land .
The sun came up and the sun went down and that was repeated for a number of years. he old grew short and forgetful and the young got so smart that they were all wanting to lead. With all of them leaders, there were no followers. Without workers and followers the grass grew taller and taller until nothing could be found. There was no need to be fast so things got slower and slower, until some people became stationary. Machines stopped working and the politicians went on vacation. All wars were stopped as every one was too tired or weak to fight. Those that were hungry went fishing and the fish had lots and lots of food to eat.
With both the ice caps melted there was no cool places to be found. The sun was hot and what was once green was now all burnt away. To live, one had to be under ground during the days. At night, those caves were cold and one had to go outside to get warm.
That is when the dinoflushes and dinotoreses were prowling around and looking for food. And this all happened because Santa’s sleigh bells wouldn’t work and Rudy’s nose turned blue. Now if you could walk on bull shit, you could go anywhere you wanted without slipping and falling. This story was accidentally uncovered while sleeping in a tent under the moon on a warm sumers eve. I always wanted to say that, now that it is said, forget it!
Martha blank, was the one that invented teardrops, the mascara that wouldn’t run down your cheeks and make your face all black.. She sold the idea to the Pussquna Indians and they added the colors of red, yellow, green and white. It was called ”war paint“ back in those days. Now, young ladies and library bookers call it make-up. Some of the righteous people are still calling it a fungus.
You don’t have to question everything I say, just read the words and let it pass and die. If you were to think this is bad writing, wait until you read the stuff I write about life before birth.
Maybe I should just set back here in the shadows and then slowly slip away!
I’ve been picked up for questioning, but haven’t been booked for anything.
Ben R Bauer
Did you know that I am (a hunt and peck typist?) Every time I go to use the key board, the alphabet letters are all in a different place. It’s no wonder that some of the messages I send don’t make much sense. Then when I go to spell check them there are a number of words that sound alike and the speller by-passes them and I don’t stop to think what they mean.
I guess everyone can’t be smart or perfect. But what I do is with the mentality of an ( what ever comes before and after Idiot) is the word (moron or moreoff ) a word that can fit there some place, that’s the word I am looking for.
I try so hard and never get any praise so I end up asking for it and still nothing comes. Yes, if you really knew how much trouble I have in writing things, maybe You would realize how hard I try to please you readers.
I have at least seventy two address of people I write to and maybe six of them that respond to those messages. Maybe another four or five more, that respond once in a while. Then a few that really surprise you when they do send something. The rest, makes you wonder if you are sending to a dead mail box. Or maybe they just don’t care for my winning personality and just as soon remove their address from my list.
In the past, I have had some people tell me what I can and can’t write or send to them. They have been permanently removed from my list. Can you imagine some one that tells you what you can or can’t write? I thought a bolt of lightning was going to strike me down if I didn’t comply.
Yes, if I did quit, then what would I do? Peggy would have me hanging from the closet tree, limb, with-in the week. Or- I could be burnt to a crisp and place in a container - or - a corpse on a slab in a medical college. Haven’t decided which as yet. What ever I was before birth, I will be the same after death.
Funny things do happen. Do you think it possible that I am not as humorous as I thought I was? Sometimes a person can slip on other things, besides ice. The edge drops off fast and the water is deep. The edge is soft and breaks away easily.
Now I Swear that I am as sane as you or anyone else that you know and it is possible that you are only acquainted with people in special homes with high fences.
What if? You are standing much too close to the edge and in you go. The incline is steep and rugged, you will be dead and ripped apart before you clear the first thousand feet. No one will ever know how far it is to the bottom.
A short distance away, a surf-board is sinking, people are yelling and screaming as the water is cold and there are no life jackets on board. One lady has her big mouth open and it is filling with water fast. Another has lost her water proof watch and it is on the way to the ocean floor.
There is but one way that you can be saved from this unfortunate situation. Do you recall that song “ Yellow Bird” go ahead hum the tune and if you know the words, sing it. If that big bird swims under the water and grabs a hold of you. He will carry you off to the top of a mountain. Now you have another problem, care to guess what it is?
Remember the rhyme of “Jack and Jill” going up the hill? Well Jack never was on that hill, Jill was all alone and she never had a pail for water. That big yellow bird grabbed her and flew away with her in his or her claws, want to guess where she is now? She was set down in Rudy’s Valley. It’s a place named after that once popular old time singer Rudy Valley, of Hollywood fame. He was the one that sounded like he had cotton stuffed up his nose, when he was singing and he used a megaphone.
Years ago, when Thomas Dewey was the president, there was a social worker named Martha ( blank.) Since this is just a story, the blank is so you can add a name of your own choosing, a name you like. Well, Martha was responsible for something, and I have forgotten what it was. So we will have to and come back to this later.
Santa never came around last December, because his sleigh bells wouldn’t work and Rudolf’s nose turned blue and dripping. Those tiny hoofs need to see where they are going and Santa didn’t want to over-shoot his stops, so he postponed his delivery until after the following week. Then he learned that he was only licensed to make no more than one Christmas delivery each year and this day was in a new year. Those Elves were going to be very unhappy with all those toys laying around and under foot. Being over stocked is one thing for the merchants, they can have sales, but it somewhat of a disaster in Santa-land .
The sun came up and the sun went down and that was repeated for a number of years. he old grew short and forgetful and the young got so smart that they were all wanting to lead. With all of them leaders, there were no followers. Without workers and followers the grass grew taller and taller until nothing could be found. There was no need to be fast so things got slower and slower, until some people became stationary. Machines stopped working and the politicians went on vacation. All wars were stopped as every one was too tired or weak to fight. Those that were hungry went fishing and the fish had lots and lots of food to eat.
With both the ice caps melted there was no cool places to be found. The sun was hot and what was once green was now all burnt away. To live, one had to be under ground during the days. At night, those caves were cold and one had to go outside to get warm.
That is when the dinoflushes and dinotoreses were prowling around and looking for food. And this all happened because Santa’s sleigh bells wouldn’t work and Rudy’s nose turned blue. Now if you could walk on bull shit, you could go anywhere you wanted without slipping and falling. This story was accidentally uncovered while sleeping in a tent under the moon on a warm sumers eve. I always wanted to say that, now that it is said, forget it!
Martha blank, was the one that invented teardrops, the mascara that wouldn’t run down your cheeks and make your face all black.. She sold the idea to the Pussquna Indians and they added the colors of red, yellow, green and white. It was called ”war paint“ back in those days. Now, young ladies and library bookers call it make-up. Some of the righteous people are still calling it a fungus.
You don’t have to question everything I say, just read the words and let it pass and die. If you were to think this is bad writing, wait until you read the stuff I write about life before birth.
Maybe I should just set back here in the shadows and then slowly slip away!
I’ve been picked up for questioning, but haven’t been booked for anything.
Ben R Bauer
1 comment:
hey, Dad 12% readership response is nothing to sneeze at!
I read that a good writer includes conflict for the main character to overcome. I don't like conflict so will probably never be able to write a good story. You, however, obviously thrive on thinking way outside the box. Do you have trouble sleeping? Lynette
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