Fun Times


Rocking the flowing green hair and jumping on the trampoline.


Little E kicking a soccer ball in the store.

WPC: Fun

Green Glass Door

Now this is a truly inventive game created by a pretty swell person a long time ago.

What goes through these green glass doors? Only those things that are fit for their ambiguous nature. This is a game that I remember playing as a young kid. I believe I was introduced to it in one of my religious ed classes. There were certain things that went in according to a special rule that was chosen by the person doing the talking.

Here’s an example:

I’m going through the green glass doors and I’m bringing cotton candy, but not icecream

I’m going through the green glass doors and I’m bringing the moon, but not the sun.

I’m going through the green glass doors and I’m bringing a puddle, but not water.

I’m going through the green glass doors and I’m bringing boots, but not sandals.

I’m going through the green glass doors and I’m bringing Wallace but not Gromit.

If you figured it out already, the rule is things that have double letters in their names go in, while things that don’t do not. The first time someone played this game with me, I couldn’t get the answer right away but after some thinking the “Aha!” moment arrives.


Share Your World – 2015 Week 1

When you have nothing going for you at a quarter past nine at night, desperate times call for desperate measures. And so I proceed to answer these questions for Week 1 of Share Your World 2015 brought to us by Cee Neuner. My quest for a perfect year (posting every single day) continues…it’s crazy to think I’m going to do that.

How do you get rid of pesky phone calls from telemarketers?

Just hang up on them. Simple. They don’t own me. I’m not obligated to buy into their products. But maybe if I saw the face of the one pictured above I might change my mind…

What are you a “natural” at doing?

Staying away from crowds, being the silent, unassuming type. I’ve always been able to go out doing my own thing without being bothered and I find I get more productive work done when I am by myself.

How often do you get a haircut?

Usually about two to three times a year or when I start to look and feel like a shaggy dog. I have started to record every time I get a haircut. The last haircut I got was back on October 15, 2014 so I am due for another one soon, maybe next month.

What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word “fun”?

Other than the band that hasn’t been heard of much since winning a Grammy in early 2013, the thing that conjours up in my mind is a picture of a plastic slide and a kid traveling down it.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

Last week I celebrated bringing in the New Year with my family, popping open a bottle of champagne and accidentally getting it all in my dad’s hair, dripping down his face like a melting snowman. It was a hilarious moment that fortunately was caught on camera. Next week, I am looking forward to the AFC and NFC championship games in football which will feature the Patriots vs. the Colts and the Seahawks vs. Cowboys. Thank goodness the Cowboys lost, because that avenges the kick to the shin that was the refs taking a potential playoff win from my Detroit Lions.


Tenacious D(ictionary)

Time to confess: tell us about a time when you used a word whose meaning you didn’t actually know (or were very wrong about, in retrospect).

Dictionary, schmictionary – and other nonsense phrases from the people who brought us WordPress and the Daily Post – and now they want me to confess a word I remember using incorrectly. What do they mean by confess? It’s not like it’s an embarrassing thing for me to have used a cool sounding word and then had it snatched out my hands from the big bully called Dictionary and his (or her) little brother Thesaurus Rex; I’ve got nothing to hide. Well you know what, company run by a parent that screams of sweat labor and autonomous machines, you can suck it, cause after nearly a whole day of trying to find a word, I still have nothing.

Basically my thoughts during the process: Trying to think of a word…some amazing word I remember using wrongly…searching the memory banks…ugh, so vague…c’mon mind, give me something…no, not exuberant or skulduggery…guess I’ll consult Google and Mr. Webster.

So below are just some rather intelligent, impressive sounding words – that one might find lodged into a verbose university research paper coming off as snobbish and rude – used in respected ways:

Leo Arnold’s strong acumen was the key to the failing business getting back on it’s feet. True, his tutelage for the company’s assets and shares made the process a lot less tenacious. Growing up in a house run by a majordomo had a big effect on Arnold’s later roles in life, assuming the helmsman role of his squads, taking charge when needed. His bourgeois upbringing is what led him to become the CEO of a major energy company, knowing first-hand how the middle-class thought and what their sine qua non was.

I love the word “bourgeois” – just figured out how to pronounce it today and it sounds gorgeous, with that smooth French flow off the tongue. An image and smell of red roses comes to mind. I also discovered the definition for it as well – applying to the middle class. Bourgeois does not entirely explain my family, even though we are in the middle class, since we are not materialistic or occupied with small-minded things; the feature image has nothing to do with my life, I just love the word.

Joseph Stalin, the notorious Soviet Union demagogue, had another, more convoluted name, by that of Iosif Vissarionovich Stalin; born Ioseb Besarionis Dze Jugashvili. Yeah, try saying the latter name even two times fast.

You know what they said back then in Russia when somebody was holding up the line? Ostanovka Stalin! (Stop Stalin!)

A pernicious gas by the name of Adolf Hitler billowed through the high streets of Germany during the 1930s and ’40s – and I’m using that in an ironic way.

Margaret Lovehue traipsed into the meeting with complete insouciance to the fact that she was late, her nonchalant behavior definitive of her so-called gift wrapped life.

Fernando ambulated into the sweet-scented room and was immediately awestruck by the voluptuous arrangements all around, not to mention the sultry woman who came sauntering out of the debonair bathroom wearing nothing but skimpy lingerie.

Wait…I think I just did it…I used “debonair” in the sentence above, looked it up, and discovered it had been used in the incorrect way. A debonair is someone who is careful, elegant, and gracious in nature, especially pertaining to a man…and after some careful scavenging, found no mention of it pertaining to a place or thing like the bathroom that doesn’t have a personality; it just popped into my head as I was writing and I thought it sounded peachy keen. So there you go. Found something after playing around a bit with words. Happy now, WordPress?