Politicians – The Mutants in Darwin’s Theory

By Rose A. Valenta

Uncle Harry came over for breakfast this morning. I was making corn fritters with maple syrup and the aroma travelled across our water-logged backyard into his bathroom, while he was getting a load off his mind.

He is not supposed to eat corn. The doctor told him that he has diverticulitis; he can’t digest American politics either, but Harry never listens to anyone.

This morning, he made divots in my yard with his flip-flops and walked into my kitchen looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Got any left?” He asked.

“You know that you are not supposed to eat them.” I responded.

“Everything in moderation.” He said.

He had The Washington Post folded under one arm.

“That’s why you have diverticulitis.” I said. “You’re obsessed with politics.”

“I like to hit the newspaper with a bingo highlighter.” He said. “The ones with the orange dots should have gone to school to learn how to track manta rays, instead of majoring in political science.”

“Look, I know its gearing up for another down-pour, but can’t you call Dick to come over and play cards or something, instead of reading the Post? You guys like Uno and I’m not up to your political rants today.”

“I think you might be interested in what the Jane Goodall Research Center had to say about Romney’s high school bullying this morning.” He said.

“What, he’s being charged? The statute of limitations has run out on that one.”

“No, he’s in a modern hunter-gatherer group,” he said.

“Well, we all know that politicians are primates.”

“Seriously, lookey here:”

Read News Article

“Nice.” I said. There’s a mutant in Darwin’s theory.”

“Did you notice, ever since the Republicans voted against Santorum and the Democrats advocated gay marriage, people are into bipartisanship?” he asked. “And look, Biden thinks he’s working for President Clinton.”

“Harry, don’t get caught up in crazy. Do something bipartisan and let the cat out, before he pees on your dry flip-flop.”

Did The New York Times Inadvertently Find a Solution to Childhood Obesity?

by Rose A. Valenta

I was on YouTube yesterday, when I happened to see this terrific holiday video uploaded by The New York Times in 2006:

This morning, my friend, Erik Deckers, posted a rant on his blog Erik Deckers Laughing Stock about schools canceling bake sales because of childhood obesity. As a parent, he was angry that the school overstepped its bounds. I tend to agree with him.

Then, I began thinking about all the jump rope songs of my youth and how we used to play double dutch in the school yard during recess and after class:

I asked my mother for fifty cents
To see the elephant jump the fence
He jumped so high
He reached the sky
and didn't come back 'till the 4th of July

Cinderella dressed in yellow
Went upstairs
To kiss her fellow.
By mistake
She kissed a snake
How many doctors
Did it take?
Pepper: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10

Okay, so the lyrics are antiquated circa 1950s; but think about it. Why make food tasteless by removing all the “unhealthy” ingredients because some parents don’t encourage their kids to get outdoor exercise? I don’t know about you, but I’m rather fed up with food that tastes like cardboard. Real whipped cream has become an endangered species. I can still remember watching my grandmother make whipped cream – it was delicious and none of us were fat.

First, she would make jello; then she got out a mixer bowl and poured in the heavy cream. She added a teaspoon of vanilla extract and turned on the mixer. As soon as light peaks formed she began adding the sugar. Just before the whole thing turned into butter, she stopped the mixer and let us lick the beaters. After she put all the whipped cream in a refrigerator container, we got to fight over the mixer bowl. It took all of 10 minutes to make whipped cream and you just can’t beat the flavor.

We would then, run outside with visions of that night’s dessert running through our heads and put on the roller skates, or play jump rope, or ride our bikes, or play basketball. There were no calories left to put on weight.

At dinner, we ate healthy food and had dessert. If the sun was still out, we rounded up neighborhood friends and got more outdoor exercise; if not, we played interactive board games or cards. Then, we put on some Rock ‘n’ Roll and danced. We squeezed in the homework.

The Obama administration is going about wiping out childhood obesity all wrong. They should take a lesson from The New York Times and enlist the support of the entertainment industry. Someone like Cee Lo Green to cut a hit Jump Rope Song of the millennium:

I had a contraband turtle.
His name was Tiny Tim.
I put him in the bathtub
to see if he could swim.
He drank up all the water.
He ate the bar of soap.
He woke up in the morning
with a bubble in his throat.

or…

Yo Mama teeth so yellow
She can’t even get no fellow
How many tubes of toothpaste
Would it take?
Pepper: 10-20-30-40-50-60

Please, Mr. President, bring back the real whipped cream!

If You Are Not the Lead Dog, the View Never Changes

"If you are not the lead dog, the view never changes" ~ Robert Benchley

This famous quote first uttered by Robert Benchley, and later immortalized by Lewis Grizzard, is the inspiration for the newly formed Philadelphia Chapter of the Robert Benchley Society - "The Lead Dog."

If you live in the Philadelphia area (virtual proximity is accepted) and would like to join, please submit your membership dues (only $10) and inform the President of the Robert Benchley Society that you are a Lead Dog. Meetings are held informally at no special time for cocktails at a destination of choice (majority vote rules). Dress is 1920s-40s attire, or not.

It has been documented that before graduating from Harvard in 1913, Mr. Benchley took a position at a civil service office in Philadelphia. After graduating, he went to work for the Curtis Publishing Company.

Join here

The Robert Benchley Society discussion group is on YahooGroups at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Benchley/

Please join us!

Limbaugh Responds to Contraceptive Controversy

"So, there I was on a blind date with a guy from Budapest at Le Bec Fin. There was no window in the ladies room to climb out, so I had to sit there and watch him perform a Fred Flintstone on the cuisse de poulet..." ~ Sitting on Cold Porcelain.

Are you sick of politics and the onslaught of primary fiascos, like the GOP drinking game "Let's Not Tell Rick Perry Where We Are Going Next"? Does it scare you that the only Republican candidate that seems experienced enough for the job is Newt? I still can't bring myself to vote for someone, who is named after a salamander. Somehow, the connotation scares me. Then you have to wonder - how many First Ladies will we have if Romney wins?

Plus, you have to consider that Ron Paul still thinks an Afghan is something made of granny squares that you throw over the back of a sofa.

Then, there are the birthers, who want to see Romney's birth certificate because they are convinced he is an illegal alien, born in a Mormon colony in Mexico, near the Sierra Madre.

Last, but not least, is Rush Limbaugh's radio response to the contraceptive controversy:



Here is an alternative, you can buy my book for $2.99 at Smashwords.com, stay home with a nice beverage, and enjoy yourself. Yes, it is in Kindle, Nook, Sony, eBook formats, as well as PDF and others.

Reading my book is equivalent to watching about 162 standup comedy routines. I have a parrot named Peg Leg Pete, yes he is disabled. He makes an appearance in one essay because he only knows two words "Who Dat?" It came in handy while we were champing at the bit for Super Bowl 44 two years ago, before my husband got all upset during the power outage just before kick-off. Yep, he was so upset that his testicles receded and he was rolling around in front of the powerless entertainment system in pain. Is there a cure for that? Nullo modo!

You will also enjoy the "No, Virginia..." letter that was sent out around Christmas time because Frosty The Inappropriate Snowman was bragging about having a porn collection, rather than remaining in character with a cute button nose and corncob pipe.

Then, we all enjoyed watching Obama bitch-slap Congress during his State of the Union Address and Joe Biden told the press where Cheney's "secret undisclosed location" was because a reporter got him drunk. You know how that goes, "candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker."

Did I sell you yet?

Okay, you've already seen the Numa Numa Guy, right? ("Nu ma, nu ma iei, nu ma, nu ma, nu ma iei"). My friend, Annette Giordano, gets ticked off when she watches The O'Reilly Factor and Bill won't let his guests get a word in, so she gets frustrated and does an Italian Numa Numa Guy in front of the TV, right in his face. She is only one of the weird friends I have.

Then, there is my grandson, who began to learn about life during the Clinton Administration. You remember that media fiasco 24x7. He was doing homework in front of the TV and comes into the kitchen asking us all about protractors, sexual harassment, and oral sex. Yeah, well, he recently managed to CLEP a sex test and found John Edwards on YouTube.

The close
Are you wondering what event made our economy go to the dogs?
It didn't happen overnight. It has taken decades to sink our economic ship.

What was the first leak in the bilge?

Actually, it all started in 1944, when our Democratic President, FDR, sent a Navy destroyer to the Aleutian Islands to pick up his dog, Fala, who promptly peed in the bilge with excitement at a taxpayer cost of $20 million.

Sold?
Click here to order it for $2.99 (less than a gallon of gas) at SMASHWORDS, in all digital formats: Kindle, Nook, eBook, Sony, PDF, etc.

You really don't want to miss reading this book.

As if that isn't enough, I teamed up with Giovanni "G-MAN" Gelati and produced a digital short story for you. It is a face-off in a Philadelphia comedy club titled "Dueling Microphones."

Click here to buy it at The Kindle Store at Amazon for only 99 cents! You will love it!
We are trying to get it into the top 10, so help us out and buy a copy.

Thanks!

Rosie

Election 2012: Just Give Us the 'Slug Report' on Congress

by Rose A. Valenta

Tighten up those pubococcygeus muscles, here we go again. Two phrases you will have nightmares about before the next election “Make no mistake” and let’s “Come together” to do something or other. Every time I hear “Come together”(common political rhetoric) it reminds me of an audience of taxpayers sitting there smiling and doing kegel exercises because that’s the only way they are all going to smile and say “YES!” together.

Obama is trying to raise $1 billion for his political campaign. I have to ask myself, why? After all, he keeps telling us to be frugal. Doesn’t he realize that a campaign plan for only $1 million would get him more votes than a $1 billion spending spree?

When you are already at the summit, Mr. President, why do you need to buy more mountain climbing equipment?

You could start with a fireside chat on YouTube announcing that since you are already the incumbent President, you don't really have to spend $1 billion for political exposure. We know you're there, we know you want it - now spare us the $999 million.

The only competition from the Republicans will be Newt and I just can't see the justification in spending a billion dollars to keep a salamander out of the White House.

The way I see it, Mr. President, bi-weekly fireside chats with status updates on all the work that has actually been accomplished on Capitol Hill is what’s needed. You know, a nice warm fire; you; Bo, the Portuguese Water Dog; and a Sony Bloggie to record the cozy conversation on YouTube. Some weeks you can give us the “Slug Report” on Congress, other weeks actual progress.

This is the “change” we have been waiting for - a frugal political campaign.

$1 billion dollars, Mr. President? Have you ever considered therapy for your compulsive spending addiction?

Being Laid Off Blows

by Rose A. Valenta

I was looking for something to read the other day and the following summary of "The Bridges of Madison County" appeared on a film-oriented web site. However, if you are a laid-off, career-oriented, "A" personality like myself, I would not recommend that you read the book:

"The path of Francesca Johnson's future seems destined when an unexpected fork in the road causes her to question everything she had come to expect from life.

While her husband and children are away at the Illinois state fair in the Summer of 1965, Robert Kincaid happens upon the Johnson farm and asks Francesca for directions to Rosamunde Bridge. He explains that he is on assignment from National Geographic magazine to photograph the bridges of Madison County. She agrees to show him to the bridges and thus begins the bittersweet and all-too-brief romance of her life.

Through the pain of separation from her secret love and the stark isolation she feels as the details of her life consume her, she writes down the story of this four-day love affair in a 3-volume diary. The diary is found by her children among her possessions and alongside Robert Kincaid's possessions after Francesca is dead.

The message they take from the diaries is one of hope that they will do what is necessary to find happiness in their lives -- whatever is necessary. After learning that Robert Kincaid's cremated remains were scattered off Rosamunde Bridge and that their mother requested a similar disposition for her own ashes, the children must decide whether to honor their mother's final wishes or bury her alongside their father as the family had planned.

Adapted from the novel by Robert Waller, this is the story of love that happens just once in a lifetime -- if you're lucky."

Why not read it, you ask?

I hate to tell you, but this story reminds me of a silent film Concertino for Violin. If you are an A-type working mom or dad, you will never figure out how a four-day fling can turn into a life-long tear jerker.

If you want to read about boredom, imagine yourself as a stay-at-home mom or dad of several children living in a place like Madison County. After about one week of unemployment, while the kids are in school, you will put on your kid's Y-Gen jeans, just for the hell of it, to see what your butt crack looks like in broad daylight; put the baseball cap on backwards; hang a Dora doll with a slip-knot off the banister before running the vacuum cleaner; then, you will get out the baseball bat and beat the crap out of a cabbage patch doll, which will someday cost you a VAT Tax at Toys ‘R US.

If you are a sheer genius, you will understand that any strange guy in a pickup truck, like the one in Madison County, who rings your door bell to ask for directions is probably also in the sex offender database and has been casing your property for the last three months; plus isn't "Rosamunde" something Houdini was supposed to say if he ever came back from the dead? Obviously, this guy is going to eat and run, and steal a six-pack, so you would never even let him in the house.

Another thing to watch out for are encyclopedia salesmen, telephone solicitors, and motivational speakers, who try to suck you into MLM plans. Somehow, these people get your e-mail address from the unemployment office and do a great job trying to get your $29.95 to "cold call" on your friends and family. You end up not only being unemployed, but your whole family hates you and your friends think you are just another Ponzi schemer.

So, what should you do with your spare time?

Turn your basement into a microbrewery. This way, you can enjoy what you do and sell a good product to your friends and family. You can also make your new business eco-friendly, by having your customers come over with a refillable jug, reusable bottle, or other reusable container to transport the beer - just like the old days after prohibition and before the stock market crash.

You can also go into the kids' computer room and give the Numa Numa Guy a run for his money on YouTube; write jokes for Jay Leno; or you can do standup comedy. For instance, just the other day, I was standing outside Starbucks selling #2 pencils to pay the electric bill, when Jay Leno decides to go Jaywalking. He comes up to me with a mic and asks "Who wrote 'Who Moved my Cheese?" I stood there for a few seconds, dumbfounded look on my face, and the most logical answer I could think of was "Chaz Bono?"

It gets better, watch:



The book is available online at Smashwords.com

Rosie Almost Does Standup

I’ve had a busy summer. I was elected to the Board of Directors of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists (NSNC) on June 26th at the “Rebound in Motown” Conference in Detroit. Many thanks to members of the NSNC for their support.

I’m asking all of my writer friends to join the NSNC via its website http://www.columnists.com. We are embarking on an exciting year. The organization is open to authors, freelance columnists (newspapers and magazines) and bloggers. Membership will benefit your writing career.

Recently, I teamed up with Giovanni "G-MAN" Gelati of BlogTalkRadio and produced a digital short story for you. It is a face-off in a fictitious Philadelphia comedy club titled "Dueling Microphones." He will be interviewing several NSNC members during the next few months about their new books in the GZONE.

We had a great time writing "Dueling Microphones" and promoting it on all the social networking sites, and I will be performing one of the sets live at The Helium Comedy Club, 2031 Sansom St., Philadelphia soon. It would have been last Saturday, but Irene upstaged my act. I will have something up on YouTube for you.

This week, I am one of the guest comedians at Stupidassquestions for 5 days. You can log on to the website and ask any stupid ass question you like, 24x7. Someone will give you a stupid ass answer.

Click here to buy a copy of “Dueling Microphones” at The Amazon Kindle Store for only 99 cents! You will love it!

We are trying to get it into the top 10, so help us out and buy a copy.

As if that isn’t enough, I just finished a sketch comedy writing class with Brian Kelly at the Philadelphia Improv Theatre (PHIT). If my family doesn’t disown me for being the brunt of a parody or two - like Uncle Harry the hoarder, who also has a foot fetish and keeps a pair of red stilettos on his night stand, I will bring a few sketches to the Shubin Theatre on a Friday night this Fall. Show times are every Friday night at 11:00 pm.

Workaholic, moi?

As always, you can pick up a copy of “Sitting on Cold Porcelain” at SMASHWORDS for only $2.99 (less than a gallon of gas), in all digital formats: Kindle, Nook, eBook, Sony, PDF, etc.

Thanks!
Rosie