Category Archives: Whimsical

Neverland

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The above is a picture I made – and made with too much difficulty. The baby is me, held in paternal grandmother’s arms.

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This is another picture I made, using photos of me and other family members.

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The lady on the right is another one of my 2nd great aunts, Mattie L. Cook Jones, with her daughter, Antonia Jones Mueller.

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This picture is another I made piece by piece. It includes a variety of relatives

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In a strange twist, it was discovered that the language of angels is college algebra.

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I randomly found this yearbook picture while going through 15,347 pages.

P.S. It’s not a photo of anyone who graduated near Springdale, but they live ‘around’ here.

I enjoy finding people’s forgotten pictures and posting them without identifying or tagging them.

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Obscure Prince fact: The original title to his huge hit was “When Daves Cry.”

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I owned a .357 but my math teacher made me round it up to .4

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“Narco Polo” is a game you play when you can’t find the drug dealer in a crowded room.

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Just to prove that I like satire whether it’s liberal or conservative… I bought my wife a surprise gift from Amazon for Christmas. It’s a book titled, “The Presidency of Hillary Clinton.” It also contains a list of everything good she did as Secretary of State.

All 104 pages of this educational book are numbered – but completely blank.

I might donate it to the DJ Trump Presidential Library and Penitentiary.
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My supervisor called me in to his sparsely furnished office.

“X, I need to talk to you about the defibrillator issue yesterday.” His face, usually already wrinkled in perpetual irritation, was darker than normal.

I took a seat. “Our CEO needed it,” I exclaimed before my boss could continue.

“That’s difficult to argue, X, and you know it!”

“I don’t see how,” I answered. “I adjusted the device to administer the intended shock.”

“Well, the problem is that you did it while he was at breakfast and drinking hot coffee.”

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I went to a boxing match last night. The third round had just started when the Walmart manager broke it up.

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¿ #mariekondo ? I can declutter your house in one day. Valuable? Sentimental? Beautiful? If your house burned to ashes today, what would you mourn? That’ll be $10,000, please. Thanks, X

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A Token, A Remembrance, An Echo of Melody

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Because I’m not inclined to have a defined path, prepare yourself to leave with uncertainty, much in the same way you climbed from your bed this morning. You assumed the floor would still lie below to meet your feet as you started your day. No matter your plan or itinerary, the day you’re living doesn’t align with what greeted you in your slumber last night. This post is primarily for one person. Even so, the truth is wherever you find it.

This isn’t about “The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows,” although it rips a webpage from its book. If you’re not familiar with it, I envy your initial discovery. The entries with video are sublime. Here’s a link to the introductory video: Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Some of the ideas contained therein are familiar with you already if you know me. Words like onism, morii, zenosyne and most of all, sonder. Their existence is in part responsible for my joy of language and aversion to anything which presupposes a rigidity in its structure or usage. It gave me greater power in knowing that I own this language and its forms are not preordained.

I have a custom metal piece of bird artwork above my back door, one attuned to the concept of onism. Once you grasp the idea, you’ll see why it gives me pause from time to time as I find myself trapped in the cocoon of a typical and confining day, especially as I peer through the slats of the window on the door. We’re always peering through slats into the external world; it’s just that we forget that we’re doing it. This post also isn’t so much about onism or existential moments.

I’ve created several words myself. Disvidisia might be my favorite. Observing people who complain of boredom or express disinterest in ideas or works people share evokes this feeling in me with regularity. This post isn’t about that, either, although it authentically encompasses the reaction many people will have to it.

Given enough time and depth of experience, some people and places ebb and flow in their importance. The tumblers which lock and prevent our understanding find themselves without a connection for years – and one day, when our eyes are averted and our minds distracted, an insight or epiphany strikes. More often than not, by the time we understand what we’ve missed or misunderstood, the cliché of ‘too late’ pains us. It’s difficult to fight realizations which germinate in our own minds.

As for what this post is about, it’s a response to a flash of recognition a few days ago. While we’ve diluted the meaning of the word token, I realized that I needed to make one. In its strongest form, a token is a tiny portion of the original and a keepsake harkening to a greater whole. Once you’ve read this post, go to this link: Avenoir. You’ll learn a new word and perhaps peer inward for a moment. Toward the end, at about three minutes, you might see or feel the token of connection that I’m referencing. For those with strong family ties, especially ones which bond with you even after a death, I suspect that the recognition of the images in your mind will break you into pieces – even if just for a moment or in the tiniest of ways.

There are no new things to see, just our own reflections as we scramble to remember what brought us to these places, even as some of those on the journey with us transform into echoes and invisible companions. We can live in reverse through memory if we can row our boats while seated in the wrong direction.

I’ve made you such a token, for inscrutable reasons that are elusive in their complexity and simple in their expression. The picture in this post isn’t the token, although if you examine it carefully you might find a clue. It should arrive in the next few days.

With remembrance.

Avenoir.

 

Baby Diaper Domino’s

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Dawn and I were headed back home. I opted to take the scenic route through Tontitown. As I turned off Hwy 112, or Maestri Road if you’re weird, I began to smell the unmistakable odor of old baby diapers in the air.

As I continued driving east, the smell grew in intensity to the point it smelled like a mountain of baby diapers left carelessly out in the August sun.

My wife and I were both making odd faces of disgust by this point. Both of us were actively questioning the source of such a foul, inhuman odor. I don’t have a weak stomach but this stench instinctively made me want to roll the car into a ravine and risk possible death to escape it.

“Look, there it is!” shouted Dawn excitedly.

She pointed in front of us. A newer gray Toyota Camry was cresting the hill about 100 meters in front of us. Evidently, we were gaining on it as we sped down Har-Ber Avenue. I could see that its windows were all down – and for good reason.

On top of the car was a Domino’s Pizza delivery sign.
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Legal Note: this post is not endorsed by Domino’s, much less appreciated.

This Post Contains No Recipes For Banana Soup

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There are times when pop culture references are so stupidly sublime that I can’t help but laugh. Naturally, I must perpetuate them. Thanks, Goldbergs.

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“S,” he said. “No, I meant ‘salty.’ That’s not right either. ‘Sorty.’ Darn it!” John stood there unable to say what he wanted.

Jake walked by and said, “He’s trying to say ‘SORRY.'”

“Why is that so difficult?” I asked.

“Duh X. Everyone knows that sorry is the hardest word to say.”

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I bought a carton of milk at the cafeteria. As I sat down to open it, the carton slipped from my fingers and spilled everywhere.

As a tear formed in my eye, my friend Jake walked by. “You can’t cry over that spilled milk.”

“Cliche aside, why not?” I asked.

“Because that brand is Lachrymose Intolerant.”

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After listening to his speech, as eloquent as it was, his misuse of semicolons troubled me.

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Happy Hollandaise!

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I had my phone number changed to an irrational number.

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“The best home security always involves questionable anger issues.” – X

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I’m taking a new job as a spell checker for Books On Tape.

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I bought 4 industrial-sized rolls of bubble wrap for my liberal friends.
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P.S. *Humor (I’m a liberal…)

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Red Lobster should change its name to Dead Lobster because they refused to serve me a live one to-go. I wanted to adopt a pet – and preferably one which hadn’t been declawed.

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It’s a dangerous obstacle course today, as I dive out of the way as people’s New Year’s resolutions crash and burn.

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It’s an Enrico Pallazzo or Frank Drebin kind of situation today.

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X Teri’s New Year Meal Recommendation: eat whatever you want, even the last 2 old hot dogs in the partially-opened package. Reminder: if you’re eating anything with more than 1 adjective in the name, you’re not eating, you’re imitating.

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2019 New Year’s Resolution: 1080p

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Copera: the long, dramatic, and incomprehensible song and dance we all do when pulled over by the police.

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I’m going to do a reboot of Andy Griffith as an inventory and security specialist working at a new small town distribution centet: “Mayberry RFID.”

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I called for a number.

“Would you like to hear some jazz,” said the sultry voice.

“What? No.” I said in momentary confusion. “Didn’t I dial the operator?”

“Yes indeed. But they connected you with the smooth operator.”

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Christmas Note: No one wants to try my new recipe, “Hannibal Lecter’s Meatloaf.” Even if I swear it’s vegetarian, everyone is yelling “Bah humbug!” and running.

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Accoring to Grease, Westside Story, Glee, and MJs Beat It, a dance-off is the best way to kick some butt. I’m about to give some black eyes with my stellar moves.

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Coincidence? Mentos and mentoes are just one letter apart and according to my tastebuds, taste identical.

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“Hey, there’s a letter “k” in my breakfast!” I yelled.

“You asked for scrabbled eggs, didn’t you?”

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A List For Yesterday

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Don’t you ever wonder if members of the Blue Man Group ever start feeling racist about all the other colors?

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“Chill Satan” is one of the best ways to tell someone they’re being an ass. I just thought I’d share that with you. Edit: I’ve heard it 4 times in two days. It must be a trend.

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It’s ironic that 9 Lives Cat Food would issue a product recall. Don’t all its customers have 9 lives or what?

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Proud or not proud? I just spent three minutes convincing someone who speaks English as a second language that the real lyrics to “White Christmas” are “I’m dreaming of a white christian.” He didn’t even blink when I told him VP Mike Pence ordered the change.

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As I exited the elevators on the bottom floor, a couple of well-educated women waited for entry. Another person turned the corner quickly and darted inside the elevator I’d just exited. He turned and waved his hand between the doors, indicating to the two women that they should ride with him.

One of the women asked, with a serious tone, “But does this elevator go to the SAME up?”

The gentleman holding the elevator looked at me incredulously. I couldn’t help it as I guffawed in raucous laughter.

The two women were not amused.

I hope the elevator did indeed take them to the same UP we all know so well.

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Springdale, Arkansas is the first American city to prove that metamorphosis (shape-shifting) is possible: several wildcats spontaneously became bulldogs.

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“Pay osculatory homage to my posterior” sounds far more elegant than its vulgar cousin on a Monday morning. Not to the guy I just quoted it to – but in general. May your Monday be filled with poetic snark. ‘Tis the season.

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Smug: me catching heck all year for abandoning all respect for grammar and orthography – & now seeing literally everyone misspelling the fancy dessert they’re all making.

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Apparently, “As foretold by the prophecy” is an unwelcome answer to the traditional “Good morning!” greeting.

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John knew he had married badly when his wife fell in the shark tank during their honeymoon and the sharks all jumped out.

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Niche and targeted marketing are going too far. (Or Stove Top now markets cannibal-themed flavors.)

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Nothing Ventured

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I’m announcing that I’m giving away $25,000 worth of Walmart merchandise. Whether you can get through the door of the store with it is your problem.

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During the interminable meeting, I stood and threw a cup of buffalo sauce on my boss as he spoke. Before he could extricate himself from his chair I hurled a cup of ranch on him.

He stood, angrily wiping the running mixture from his face. “Have you lost your mind? What did you do that for?!” He shouted.

“Well if you’re going to wing it, I’m going to provide the sauce.”

Meeting adjourned.

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The unintended benefit of using Halloween as a pretext to startle and scare coworkers in the semi-dark parking garage is that several of them involuntarily reveal they have concealed carry permits.

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Intolerably Titled Blog Post

 

The police asked me to describe the assailant.

“Visible fart” was all I could think of to say to describe him – and the police took note of it and left, evidently with such a suspect already in mind.

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“I lost my sanity,” I said. The police searched for days but could find no proof that I ever owned it.

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I was experimenting with Instagram. Under ‘recommended beauty filters,’ the #1 recommendation: “avoid the public.”

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I called the Poison Control Center out of instinct. It turns out that finding out that a close friend, co-worker, or family member has overdosed on stupid isn’t a valid reason to call them.

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There are 7,647,106,854 living people on this earth with you now. 318,750 people were born today – so far. 132,000 people have died already today. It’s impossible to imagine that one million people die each week. Yet, here we are, arguing over semicolons, sports affiliations, and whether it’s appropriate to wear striped shirts or drink white wine with pork.

 

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They tried cutting his leg off with a chainsaw, his head with a guillotine, and his hands with a butcher knife. All three cutting tools shattered in the attempt. He was a new superhero: The Indivisible Man.

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Stolen joke: “He needs to build a bridge so he can get over himself.”

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“X, it looks like you padded your work history.” The H.R. Manager of Trinity Music Publishing informed me. “We can’t hire you.”

“What gave it away?” I asked.

“It’s not so much that you claimed to have been Lead Air Guitarist for Journey. It’s that everyone knows there were no musicians in that band, real or imaginary.”

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It turns out that the phrase, “Stick a fork in it” is not literal. To the guys on the other softball team, my apologies. You sure didn’t sound like winners, though

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If you believe that everything happens for a reason, can you please explain your fashion choices? From my point of view, it looks like the definition of either ‘random’ or ‘lost and found box.’

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Overheard Strange Conversation: “…sir, I don’t care who you are, the Lactation Area isn’t for ‘interested observers.’ ”

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In lieu of spending a night in Branson last night after seeing Reza the Illusionist, I reserved a place in Monett, Missouri. We chose a Tex-Mex place to eat, one which was deceptively large inside. We had to circle the establishment more than once to dart into a recently emptied parking spot. Even compared to the eateries we left behind in Branson, we ate like kings. Though the idea of a night in Monett sounds like a premise to a joke, it turned out to be a fortuitous and interesting place to stay. Downtown seemed to be dipped in another time. It was obvious to me that someone was diligently attempting to breathe new life into its streets. Perhaps some of the charm derived from the lengthening shadows as daylight diminished. It’s a place I would love to spend a few mornings walking the pre-dawn streets. Returning to the hotel, we were astonished to find that the wi-fi supported our FireTV. I had packed it on a whim. We watched the shirtless comedian Bert Kreisher, laughing at his stupidity and insight. And so it came to pass that I pondered that I would somehow remember spending the night in Monett, for delicate and inexplicable reasons which sound a little odd to anyone listening.