Too Young To Be Offended

      I was in bed watching television when my 4 year old granddaughter entered. It was after her bath and putting on her night gown.
      She said, “Paw Paw, my panties are too small.”
     Being fed a line like that, I had a great answer but I thought to myself that I wasn’t going to say it to a female, even one so young. So, I giggled. 
     "What are you laughing at, Paw Paw?"
     “Nothing,” I said, continuing to smile.
    “What are you laughing at?” she asked again.
    “Your panties are too small, huh?”
    “Yeah.”
    The comedian took over.
    I asked her, “What makes you think your panties are too small and your butt is not too big?”
   She went into hysterics, laughing, and repeating the punch line, too young to be offended.

   The next morning my wife texted me at work to let me know my granddaughter had the leg hole of the panties around her waist.

60 Seconds Inside a Bimbo's Head- Summer

Finally, summer is here and I am ready. Poolside, beachside, I am ready… Wait a minute, beachside is really “Beach, in front of” … How does that work? Are you in front of the beach or in front of the water?... Doesn’t matter, I’ll be rockin’ my new six hundred dollar swimsuit... Teddy seems ready. He sure put up some bucks. I’d have to work a week in that cubicle for that kind of money….Of course, I can cover Teddy in three short minutes…Small price to pay to lay out…literally…Wow, that comes out to, what, two hundred bucks a minute...I’m such a slut. Is that the price for my virtue, just two hundred dollars a minute? ... Well, a duh to myself… it’s a six hundred dollar swimsuit...I wonder if I ask Teddy to last longer, I could get a better swimsuit? Then I’d look good, like the swimsuit models in those weight loss commercials… They always rock their swimsuits……Gosh, I’m so fat…Maybe I could go an extra minute with Teddy for a really expensive sarong…One that really says summer is here…cause I’m ready.

Honoring Our Troops

            The Germans could never see us crouched low, eyes just above the grass. They were looking hard too, scanning the French countryside for the inferior Americans they would kill if they had a chance. Oh, we were scared, petrified. If Germans didn’t kill us my mother would have if we destroyed her award winning azaleas.

            That was the extent of my combat experience, child’s play, picking who would be a sergeant, corporal, or general. Born in 1960 I had the luxury of not being forced to fight. I did reach eighteen in 1978, the first year the government reinstated signing up for the draft. I remember going to the post office with high school buddies to sign the card. I certainly wasn’t worried about paying the ultimate price for my country. I was going to be an opera singer.

             Today, I do understand the ultimate price, dying, never to see your wife, your children grow up, your brother who protected you, the sister who gave you the girls point of view, the grandparents who spoiled you, the uncle who took you fishing, the aunt who when getting off the bus you ran to anticipating the present. The father who instilled “never say can’t”, “never quit”, “suck it up”, “shake it off”, or the mother who’s azaleas did get me in a heap of trouble.

            This weekend, let’s thank all of those who have served in the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard, and The National Guard.

TWO POPES

Not one, but two, have made it through.
The most holy, I bow down.
John XXIII, John Paul II
In heaven wears a crown.

I remember St. Gregory Barbarigo,

The nuns made childhood hard you know
I would have listened more for show,
If I knew saints came in stereo.

60 Seconds inside a Bimbos' Head- Easter

Easter Sunday is this Sunday…I think its Sunday… Yeah, it’s always a Sunday… I always have to work the day after…Of course, once again, people are going to bring candy to work…Why can’t they just eat their own kid’s candy?  No, they have to bring it to work and make fun of me for not eating any? I’m sorry, but I don’t stay the hottest girl in the office by eating like them…I wonder if the new girl, Candy is going to bring candy…I hope she brings something healthy like peaches…That’s weird, Peaches in accounting always brings fruit…Alfredo always brings a cream dish, Rueben always brings up stupid sandwiches…They sure talk stupid about food... Maybe, they’re trying to screw with me, everyone knows I don’t eat red meat, just chicken, fish, and roast… Thank God, roast is brown… And I’m really glad Peeps are chicken, something sweet, that I can eat at Easter…Easter Sunday, good God, it sure is a lot of work. It should be one of those religious holidays….

 

Mickey? Andy?

           With the death of Mickey Rooney, many news anchors, when telling of the news, have gotten the names “Mickey” and “Andy” mixed up. Both were famous “Rooneys,” but both, now being dead, won't care. I don’t think so, anyway.

            I’ve been called the wrong name a few times in the public forum, it, always giving me a chuckle, my mediocrity being somewhat of success. On live TV during a telethon the co-host kept calling me Larry Wyatt. The third time I felt compelled to correct him, and added, “Well, at least we now know who’s a bigger star.”

            Also, the wrong name was put in a program by a community theatre group who had me listed as Larry Hunt. I was playing the lead. They apologized and said they would change it but it was the night before opening. Being community theater and rather amused, I said heck no. I figured I’d get much more mileage out of friends opening the program and start laughing before I even take the stage.

            Years before I moved to Houma, La. there lived a very popular Reverend Hyatt who actually had red haired kids and naturally people putting two and two together would come up with three and mistake me for one of his sons. When asked how my father was, I would say, “Oh Lord, he’s drinking again and running around on my mother with Mrs. Steck. The young women who worked at the church. It’s not pretty.” (Just kidding, but it would have been funny.)

            I’ve received mail, with my address on the envelop sent to Larry Flint, Wyatt Hyatt, Larry Byatt (which I thought was a key punch mistake) and others. Plus, when Larry Hite gets arrested and shows up in the police beat, people think once again, Larry’s in trouble.

            If I went to another market I’d use a handle on the radio. I like the idea of taking a local lake in the area and put the name “Blake” in front of it. There is a lake in the area pronounced “Da-cad.” “Blake the Cad” has a rebel attitude that might be fun to work with. Blake Erie sounds like it would be a lot more fun.

A Great New Group

Today's #PUSHTUESDAY lucky Winner is LARRY HYATT! His Twitter handle is @hyhattlarry. He is the author of HOW TO REACH FOR THE AMERICAN DREAM...(AND NOT GET IT!), www.amazon.com/dp/B00FSKCGTU.
Please support him on Twitter, Facebook and ...any other social media forums you use. Be sure and pick up a copy of his book today as well! Let's show the world that we can #PUSH our members and propel them to unimaginable heights!

Sincerely,

Nonnie Jules, President
RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB
"You Can't Buy Our Kind of Support"

RaveReviewsByNonnieJules
WATCH NONNIE WRITE!
Ask The Good Mommy
4WillsPublishingSee More

How to Reach for the American Dream...(And Not Get It!)

www.amazon.com

How to Reach for the American Dream… (and not get it), is the fictional, comedic account of the life of an entertainer who from childhood had what it took to “make it.” You’ll laugh, cry, and cheer...

Ancestry.com

I thought koobug would get a kick
On finding all of this.
You may have heard it all before
From Americans so thick.

I’m not from Wales

And by the way
I think there’s black four score.
Ancestry.com has found
It’s way down to the core.

The red hair from McClelands,

It always had to be.
But Hyatts I found dropped the “Von”
When they had crossed the sea.

I’m looking into why that I

Sing gospel as I do.
I even throw a move and rap,
Eat soul food when I’m through.

I’m Irish, German/African,

My father didn’t recall.
His mother’s side
Would never put,
Pictures on the wall.

I have these things

I can’t explain
Eclectic I know now.
I think I’m Euro-seein,’
From now I will use
“Ciao.”

www.koobug.com

Keith Richards, Sir Author

(Sung to the tune of “Beast of Burden”)

I write for kids, and now I’m hurtin’.

I think of words and find my mind ain’t workin’
Kid’s books are for parents and their money will foresee…

I want them all to buy my pages

I know the words will live for ages
Even though my body died
It’s been in formaldehyde.

Can I spell enough?

I know that can be ruff.
I know that Mick can’t strut
To get me out, get me out, get me out
Of bad Goodreads.

I’ll always write with extreme exertion

And it’s for kids which could become a diversion
From the book I wrote that only said I was a huge druggy.

Kiddy, kiddy, kiddy, kiddy, it is Babylon

As soon as my daughter hits it big, we’ll own Amazon
Come on baby, can’t you see through to me…

60 Seconds Inside a Bimbo’s Head-New Year’s Day

Oh god, my head, it hurts...What a New Year’s party that was…Wait…This isn’t my bedroom…mine’s pink…Oh god, where am I?... Oh, shit, I see my clothes… Is that snoring?… Oh no, who was I talking to before I left?... It was the bartender, and he didn’t have a date either… Uh oh, there were three of them…Which one was it? Oh, god please let it be the hot one…I won’t drink again if it’s the hot one…Crap... Well, maybe nothing happen?... Yeah right, who am I kidding...Well, there’s my cell, I’ll just call, the BFF, and...Oh hell, I punched 911… That’s going to send the cops...Shit, I got to get out of here…Oh, lord…Hold on a second, I know all the cops…Wait, which ones are on duty…Trey…Trey is on duty…What time is it?...6:50…but that could put Lance on duty…and what if Brandon is working…well, that’s all good too, because they wouldn’t tell a soul…not if they want this again… Whew, that was close…I could just hop in with one of them…Who knows, maybe they’ll take me to IHOP...I could go for some pancakes… The New Year is looking good… starting out with pancakes…