Fats Domino sang about Blue Monday, so I hope the following will give you something to smile about.
1) When bad weather comes we sometimes direct some pretty bad language at the weatherman. Here are a couple of Pelicans that took it a step further:
2) I like to start each day with a visit to the comic strips. Some recent contributions:
Mother at Fitness Center, “What will make me look like I did before I had kids? Pilate’s? Aerobics? Instructor, “A time machine.”
With today’s fashions one question parents don’t have to ask their teens is are they wearing clean underwear.
The 2010 family dinner table: Little girl – iPod, Teen – iPhone, Dad – iTouch, Mom – iRate.
Peer Pressure in 2010. Young girl to parents, “Why not? All the other kids parents are getting divorced.”
2010 Hollywood Interfaith meeting, “Have your God call my God.”
For some marriage isn’t a period in life, it’s a sentence.
Young daughter to mother, “If you could change three things about yourself, what would they be?” Mother, “My insecurity, my impatience and my hair.” Daughter, “That’s interesting.” Mother, “That I can be so self-critical?” Daughter, “That you didn’t mention your butt.”
3) A few blogs I have come across recently that I get a kick out of.
a. Mommy (and Daddy) Lingo – “Things I never thought I’d have to say to my kids.”
“Don’t hit your brother with the Bible”
“Get that tortilla out of your ear.”
“Quit licking the water off the pavement.”
“Stop! Get that banana out of your pants.”
b. The problem with young people today (crabbyoldfart on wordpress).
From his recent post, Affronts to Old People #10 – Being treated like a Moron, a Baby, or a Household Pet:
“I don’t care for generalizations but young people tend to fall into one of two categories – those that are terrified of seniors and avoid them at all costs and those that treat old people like damned babies and fawn all over them. While I can tolerate the former, Doris is a prime example of the type of pandering nincompoop that falls firmly in the second group – and who really chap my ass.
From the moment I enter the office Doris is all over me – yanking the coat off my back, calling me “sweetie”, asking if I have a “boo boo” and generally treating me like some feckless 5-year old who’s lodged a handful of coins up his nose and can’t get them out. It’s demeaning and humiliating – especially coming from some dimwitted young person whose primary responsibility is to refrigerate urine samples.
I don’t know why it is but it seems that as soon as you hit eighty, people give up any pretence of treating you as an equal and start speaking to you in combination of gibberish and baby talk as though you’re some wildly incompetent, overgrown toddler. Honestly, you half expect them to whip out a breast and offer you lunch for Christ’s sake.”
“But nowadays young people think they’re entitled to 10 of everything. Televisions, hats, slacks, fingers – you name it. They stagger through the outlet malls like an army of credit card clutching zombies – arms outstretched, mouths agape, blindly pulling items off the shelves with no idea of what they actually want; just an all encompassing sense of need.
If I had ever told my old mom that I wanted a 2nd pair of sneakers she’d have hobbled me with a meat tenderizer and relieved me of my need for shoes entirely. And she’d have been correct to do so.
What these young people really “need” to purchase is a moral compass, half a brain and a lick of self-restraint. It’s a shame they don’t sell those particular items at Abercrombie and Fitch or every young person on the planet would be clamoring to get their hands on some. And let me tell you – there’s certainly a god damned need.”