Reblog: SoCS — All About Farting

Because everyone needs a hearty laugh…..

This, That, and The Other

businessman fartingSo for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, Linda G. Hill challenged us to write a post about a bodily function. Actually, she said we could “decide on one or write about a whole bunch of bodily functions.”

My favorite bodily function is the fart. Because farts are funny. Back on July 1, 2017, I wrote a whole post about farts. Its focus was farting on airplanes and the bottom line (no pun intended) was that you should just go ahead and let it rip.

Farting is a natural part of the human digestive process. When you eat, you don’t just swallow food, you also swallow air, which contains nitrogen and oxygen. These tiny air bubbles make their way through our bodies and mix with hydrogen, carbon dioxide, and methane along the way. The only way they can escape the body is by releasing them out of our butts and into the…

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Re-blog: Advice for Donald Trump from Oscar Wilde on locking up kids

The terror of a child in prison is quite limitless.”

During and after his own two-year incarceration (1895-1897) for “gross indecency,” ie homosexuality, Oscar Wilde wrote an extraordinary attack on the notion of taking children from their parents and locking them up alone in prisons and confined spaces. (Sound familiar?)

Source: Advice for Donald Trump from Oscar Wilde on locking up kids (irishcentral.com)

Reblog: Always Remember I Love You

Tissue alert

alzheimers-3034960_1280

By Robina Rader

I may forget.
In a cruel game of hide and seek,
hard-earned knowledge and a lifetime of memories
prove ever more elusive.

I get confused in parking lots,
can’t find things in my kitchen,
get lost in the middle of a thought.
Doors are closing in my mind,
locking me out – out of my past, out of my self.

And worst of all, the day will come
when I look at you with blank eyes
and push you away, unaware
that I love you.
So promise that you will remember
when I forget.

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Reblog: You can’t say we weren’t warned

 

READ THIS POST! SHARE IT, RE-BLOG IT, LET IT BE SEEN FAR & WIDE!

THE SHINBONE STAR

One of the pleasures of my morning commute is to listen to comedian-activist Stephanie Miller’s radio show on Sirius XM (Progress). She often begins with a review of whatever shenanigans Putin’s Poodle (PP) has fouled the White House with overnight.

She seldom has been left hanging, from the continued assaults on the the First Amendment, the Fourth Amendment — hell, most of the Amendments outside the Second Amendment, which is the one the president thinks will save him when his base comes out roaring and armed to keep him in power.

It’s a sad fact that PP’s hopes have been reduced to a complicit Congressional Republican majority, and a deplorable base. And there’s a good chance that come November, the first of those hopes will be voted out of office.

But this is the life we chose, as the mobster said to his protégé in “The Godfather II.”

We can…

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It’s OK to be Average!

I’m reblogging a post that really hit me today. Fritzie says in one of the comments that she wrote it while reflecting on her 40+ years so far. Well, I’ve been reflecting on my 60+ years and am still struggling with the truism that it’s OK to be average. Like Fritzie, my parents and teachers all called me “underachiever” and encouraged/pushed me to do/be better. I don’t know about Fritzie, but my parents didn’t hesitate to let me know how disappointed they were when I didn’t pull myself out of the ranks of underachievers. When I graduated from college exactly 20 years after high school and then from law school, my parents finally told me they were proud of me. By then I was 40, and I just didn’t believe them. After 40 years of letting them down, how was it possible they were suddenly proud of me? I’ve spent a lifetime trying to prove to them and to myself that I’m not an “underachiever”, that I’m not a failure, trying to somehow earn their posthumous approval. Impossible and irrational, I know. The result has been a lifetime of self-criticism, disappointment, even depression that I was still one of the “underachieving” masses. Four years of retirement and reflection have helped me to realize that the underachiever label isn’t a death sentence. That it’s merely a recognition that no one can be the best in everything. I admit I still have some way to go toward accepting that being average is OK. Reading and re-reading Fritzie’s blog will help me to do that.

Life Travel Soul

I may excel in certain things, but I’ll be “just average” in a lot of areas in my life. And you know what?

It’s Ok to be Average!

This phrase changed my life because I grew up constantly trying to excel in everything. Nothing is wrong with that. I believe that we should strive to do our best in whatever we do. However, if our happiness and self-worth depend on the outcome, then we need to reflect on why we are so driven towards our goals in the first place.

Mine was the desire for the approval of others.

I was in 3rd grade when I scored 18 out of 20 on a test. I can’t remember the subject, but I recalled what my teacher told my mom, “your daughter is an underachiever.” My mom pushed me to study hard and get good grades. And I did!

I went home…

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She Was Magic, writing challenge prompt

Re-blogging this beautiful piece. You may need tissues.

Mws R Writings

adult beautiful beauty close up Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

https://wordpress.com/post/mwsrwritings.wordpress.com/1142

She Was Magic

She was magic in that she always transformed the lives of others around her. She carried herself with such assurance that she could have stood tall next to anyone else in the world.

She loved with all the magic in her soul. She was able to make a person feel right down into the bottom of their locked heart. When she was done loving them they knew for sure that they mattered. The could feel that kind of love for all days.

Her magic was more than a touch or a word, her kind of magic permeated everyone she had shown kindness to or had loved. She was like a gentle night’s breeze, one that was felt all over, especially on the hottest nights. She was like fire that made your clothes, and skin hot to the touch, just from the…

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Sharing This Lovely Haiku

Reblogged with apologies to the actual author, Christine Bolton. I don’t know how to suppress the “author” blurb at the bottom of my page.

Daily Haiku – Saturday, July 7, 2018

 

Daily Haiku

The brightest of stars

Can’t light the way to your heart

If the door is closed

Christine Bolton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Legacy

Thank The Haunted Wordsmith for this delightful story!

The Haunted Wordsmith

“Tell me again which one it is?” Zenon asked her grandfather.

She followed his pointed finger to the tiny red dot in the night sky. “That one,” he whispered.

“We came from there?”

He laughed. “No, sweetie. That star devoured our planet our we left. Well, there wasn’t much left on it after the 21st century, but it was still home.”

Zenon stared at him, then took a deep breath. “My teacher said that is a myth.” She looked at the ground not wanting to see his face.

He chuckled. “Which part? We came from there or there was nothing left?”

“Mr. Trump said that his ancestor united the world after being elected Earth’s president, and used science to repopulate the Earth’s wildlife that was destroyed by Obama’s policies. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.”

He fell to the ground laughing.

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