Humor

What’s New in My Indie Adventure???

/ Janna Hill / 6 Comments

What’s New in My Indie Adventure???

Well… I created a discount e-store that only carries paper books by moi.  Y’all know I speak French, right? Right!  I don’t know if anyone will ever see it and I don’t really like the way it feels and functions but I did it by golly. So I have been productive! I’m one of those that has to be productive [in varying degrees] to feel comfortable- not perfect, just productive. It is too hot outside and I haven’t got my writing mojo back so there you go. I sat around in the A/C all day. I also consumed a cookie jar full of vanilla wafers and a jar of peanut butter. Eating is considered productive. Y’all know I can eat and type at the same time so I dabbled with banners, background colors and discount codes over at CreateSpace

CreateSpace is an Amazon venue, they print/provide the trade paperbacks for six of my books. They also offer an e-store option and discounts. If you don’t care for discounts (real ones) then you ain’t been poor enough yet. I’ve been poor. Poor as a church house rat and too poor to pay attention. Of course at the time I didn’t know I was poor, I had to be told “damn girl you’re poor.”  I believe rising from poverty helps a person not fear failure. Been there, done that- I ain’t scared. I recall one time  Grandma  and I –Oh dear that was a rambling digression.

So back to this store that is probably tucked away in the boondocks of cyberspace. I don’t mind that a new window pops up every time you click the ‘more’ link, it apparently keeps up in the shopping cart but already I have complaints about not being able to delete an accidental add to cart. These darn cousins of mine keep me in business but there’s four-hundred a handful of them that complain about the slightest things. (Not you – you know you’re my favorite.)

What Else is New…

I updated my LinkedIn profile. I didn’t know they had changed and it is like starting over. I got as far as hanging a picture on the wall and accepting a few invitations. (Sorry LinkedIn I don’t want a job right now. I do have one friend/connection I knew before LinkedIn. Morgan McFinn. He is a sophisticated slob. Sophisticated  and slob are my words but he doesn’t speak much higher of himself. He’s a funny guy.

Before I start babbling again I named the store Discount Direct. You can not buy tires, appliances or clothes but you can get 15% off of six different books (by moi) by buying direct and then you can sit naked in your car with bald tires at KFC because your fridge went out. I had to heard of that once.

DISCOUNT DIRECT HEADER FOR CS 15% OFF

P.S. Closed up shop before the ink dried. My friends/fans/family deserve better.

Dabbling & Dibbles

/ Janna Hill / 9 Comments

Dabble: to fiddle, putter, experiment

Did you know that a significant number of the population does not consider writing a real job? You did? You knew that already? Well color me shocked and bubble busted when a sweet little old lady accused me of dabbling. Writing is real work by golly. True I have never broken a sweat over a keyboard but dabbling?

Admittedly it is easier than sorting sheets for a laundry company that services nursing homes. Yeah I did that for three whole days. That was a long time ago (a really, really long time ago) when the unemployment office would actually put you to work. I suppose in comparison it does look like I am dabbling.

Thinking back on those three days of sorting fecal stained linens I’ll take being called a dabbler. Heck. I will embrace it and laugh at it like a real country boy laughs at Earl Dibbles Jr.

Crazy Conversations (Moe I’m Dying)

/ Janna Hill / 8 Comments
Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.
 

Moe, I’m Dying

Pippin: I got my lab reports in from the doctor. There’s an H beside half of them, what does that mean?

Kit: High. H means high, L means low.

Pippin: I know that! What do these numbers say about my health?

Kit: Ask your doctor. I forgot to lay anything out- what do you want to eat?

Pippin: I don’t know. Answer the door.

Kit: You answer the door, I’m busy.

Pippin: Come on in man. Did you hear the bad news? I just got handed a death sentence… Moe, I’m dying.

Kit: Do you want chicken or pork chops for dinner?

Pippin: I’m dying and she wants to know if I want pork chops for dinner. Do you see what I’m dealing with Moe?

Kit: We have left over pork chops. They smell a little funny but I think they’ll be okay if I rinse the sticky stuff off.

Pippin: It ain’t bad enough the pork is killing me slowly; she has to add ptomaine to the mix. Have you ever had ptomaine poisoning Moe? It’s bad, real bad. You’ll have to watch that when I’m gone, don’t eat anything around here or you’ll be a goner just like me.

Kit: Okay would you rather have the chicken? It’s still frozen but I could microwave it for a minute or two then fry it.

Pippin: Did you hear that Moe? My only alternative is a radioactive chicken. Not only will it be full of cancer causing radiation but she’s going to boil it in oil so she can finish me off.

Kit: I’m not boiling it in oil, I’m frying it.

Pippin: What’s the difference? My arteries don’t know the difference. My cholesterol is 5000 and you want to argue?

Kit: Oh, you’re talking to me now?

Pippin: See Moe, she’s hoping I’ll get mad and have a heart attack right here in front of her. You’ll have to call 911 – she won’t do it.

Kit: Stop telling him that! You are not dying.

Pippin: I’ve got high blood pressure-”

Kit: And your cholesterol is not 5000, there’s no such thing. No one has ever had cholesterol that high.

Pippin: Don’t listen to her Moe. Look at this here report. I’ve got high pressure, high sugar, high triglycerides…

Kit: You’ve got high hopes too if you think that dog gives a hoot about all of your ailments. Moe, you want a pork chop?

Pippin: Now she’s just trying to hurt my feelings. You love me don’t you Moe? Come back here. Moe heel! Moe… Moe? Dammit Moe you know I’m dying.

Finding What Was Never Lost

/ Janna Hill / 9 Comments

A twenty dollar bill stashed in your wallet, old friends on the Internet, the other sock and a favorite book. What do the aforementioned have in common you might ask? They are all things that were never really lost but simply overlooked for a span of time.

Isn’t it like finding a treasure when you’re reunited? The mingled relief and excitement of rediscovering something so precious you find yourself doing the Hercules hand-clap. Hercules! Hercules! Hercules! You’re doing it right now aren’t you? Me too! Because Joy! Rapture! Look what I have found. My old friend Webster’s Encyclopedia of Dictionaries. Not being able to do much for the last week (thank you influenza) I was rummaging through the library in search of couch entertainment and voila!

I seriously love this book. I should be ashamed of its broken binding and battered appearance but I’m not. It has been over handled and shared with children before they could even read. It was my firstborns Good Night Moon. It has been my friend, my coach and my counselor. If someone had a question the answer was only pages away. Well maybe not the answer to the missing sock but we all know that’s not really a mystery. They typically return after they tire of hanging out in alternate universes, sipping martinis with wayward thongs. Of course their mate has usually moved on but that’s another story for another time.

 

Like running into an old friend.
Reminiscing.
The scars of faithfulness.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Illumination

/ Janna Hill / 15 Comments

Illumination

This week’s photo challenge is titled Illumination. While looking around for a shot that aligned with the challenge (defined as light, brightness, radiance, brilliance, clarification or enlightenment etc…) I came across a souvenir from the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus. It’s a softball sized globe that sits atop a stick and reminds me of the Reunion Tower in Dallas, except the souvenir spins a lot faster. Maybe that’s exactly what it’s supposed to be; heck I don’t know I stole it from a grandchild just found it lying around. Anyway, you press a button and this gadget puts on a fascinating little light show which by the way reminds me of an enlightening story my grandmother once told me about her trip to the circus.

First allow me to shed some light on my grandmother. She was a tad peculiar by some standards. Correction she was outright odd, offbeat and utterly deranged at times. I loved her dearly but come on, who in their right mind tries to gnaw the head off of a screaming gray squirrel? In her defense I must say the rodent did bite first – she merely wanted to teach him a lesson. She was a tough cookie who didn’t take guff from any creature and as hard as she was there beat a tender childlike heart within her bosom.

I wish I had been there under the big top when my uncle took her along with his family to see the circus when it came to town. I know she was mesmerized by all of the excitement; the delight was still in her voice as she recounted the day’s events.  She laughed about the trained elephants and giggled at the silly clowns, held her breath when reminiscing about the trapeze artists and shook her head and shuddered in disbelief when it came to the high line exhibition. “It was the darndest thing you ever did see Jennavenay.” That’s what she called me. Not because she couldn’t enunciate Janna René, she preferred Jennavenay and that is all she ever called me. I asked her once if she knew my name, she pronounced it plainly and just as plainly added, “I don’t like it. I call you Jennavenay and you answer to it-that’s good enough.” And I suppose it was.

It took a moment or a few chuckles before it occurred to me she had a tooth missing from her upper denture. “What happened to your tooth Grandma?” I asked. “Spot light did it.” She said matter of factly.

“Oh my goodness, someone hit you with a spotlight?”

“No silly girl” she says, “They had beams of light like magic shooting all over the place and one come right across my face and knocked my tooth out.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” I replied with all due respect but my doubt alone ruffled her feathers. I should have heeded uncles warning when I saw him shaking his head in the background but it was too late and Granny was on a tear. She’d heard they had “lasers that could burn holes plum through metal and doctors were usin’ `em to cut folks open for surgery. It shouldn’t surprise anybody that if one hit you just right it could knock a tooth out by golly!” I seceded with a modest “I suppose stranger things have happened.” Besides, how could one argue with such clarifying logic especially with a woman who would go tooth to tooth with a wild squirrel?

 

A radiant flame and its image.
The tiny light that guides us so we don’t pee on the floor in the middle of the night.
A possible replica of the illuminated demon that took Grandma’s tooth.

Crazy Conversations (Enumerating Kin)

/ Janna Hill / 5 Comments
Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.
 
Enumerating Kin

Cousin Bill: We need to get together more. Somebody ought to plan a family reunion before all of us are gone.

Sue: Yes, someone should take charge and do that, not that you would go – you haven’t gone to any of the other ones.

Cousin Bill: I didn’t know there were any other ones.Front Porch & Family Photos

Sue: You say the same thing every time.

Betty: Don’t get on his ass. You ain’t been to many of `em yourself missy!

Sue: I wasn’t getting on his ass. If I was getting on his ass he would know it, trust me.

Cousin Bill: It kinda felt like you were gettin’ on my ass. Matter of fact I think you left a mark.

Sue: Poor baby, you want Betty to kiss it and make it all better.

Betty: I’m not kissin’ his hairy old butt.

Cousin Bill: It ain’t hairy. It’s smooth as a baby’s bottom. You wanna see?

Betty: No thank you.

Sue: I do.

Betty: You’re sick in the head girl if you want to look at his rear-end.

Sue: You looked at it so I guess you’re sick in the head too.

Betty: My lookin’ was an accident. I turned my head as soon as I could but I gotta tell you I still have nightmares about it.

Cousin Bill: Would somebody just plan the damn reunion already!

Sue: Betty you’re the oldest why don’t you start a list of paternal relatives and we’ll go from there.

Betty: What is paternal?

Sue: From the father’s side.

Betty: Oh that’s easy. Let’s see… there is Aunt Lou and Uncle Delbert-

Sue: They are from mother’s side of the family and they passed away twelve years ago.

Betty: So you want just the live ones?

Sue: I think the dead ones might have a problem making it to a family reunion.

Cousin Bill: I imagine they’re having their own reunion in heaven. God rest their souls. Sue would you get me another beer?

Betty: I’ve seen dead people at reunions.

Sue: Just make the list Betty we don’t have time for your ghost stories.

Cousin Bill: Lord knows her stories do go on. We’ll all be at that heavenly reunion by the time she finishes.

Betty: Why does it have to be just Daddy’s side? That’s plum rude.

Sue: Let’s work on one thing at a time. We can make a maternal list later.

Betty: What’s maternal? Never mind, I know the answer.

Sue: Good.

Betty: But I don’t think there will be many people show up at a reunion for pregnant women.

Sue: Dadgum you’re sharp as a tack. So how many have you got on the list so far?

Betty: Ummm. What ever happened to Jim and all of those girls? And Jerry and his wife – none of them had any boys did they?

Cousin Bill: Nope. No males to carry on the family name. I reckon we’ll disappear from the annals of history.

Betty: Annals. Is that the same as anus?

Sue: That’s right Betty, it is. That is called a synonym. Don’t worry Bill I’m sure the county has an accurate record of you.

Betty: Well that makes sense now. Curtis is a history butt and he is always talking about annals.

Sue: So you’ve got Jim and Jerry’s clans. Who else?

Betty: You know they had three sisters and a couple of brothers that was stout enough to produce some male offspring. They each had at least five kids and most of `em was boys.

Cousin Bill: What does stout have to do with it?

Betty: A man’s seed has got to be strong to make a boy. Can’t have no little pecker either. Boy seeds are puny little swimmers; they have to be planted deep. Yep, you gotta park `em right on top of the ovary or they’ll never make it.

Cousin Bill: I think I’ll go get me a beer.

Betty: Did you know there are millions and millions of sperm released every time a man relieves his self.

Sue: When he urinates?

Betty: No dummy. Piss don’t have sperm in it. When he umm… you know… has an orgasm.

Sue: Why are you whispering? Orgasm is not a dirty word.

Betty: Well it sounds vulgar to me. It sounds like oral – makes me think of oral… you know. Come to think of it, that might be the reason Jerry and his wife never had any boys. And Jim too. Girl they was puttin’ it in the wrong hole!

Sue: Oh dear lord baby Jesus. You don’t really believe that do you?

Betty: Do you have a better theory?

Sue: No. No Betty I don’t. Let’s forget about the millions and millions of misplaced scrawny sperm for now. How many do you have on the list?

Betty: Two.

Crazy Conversations (My Mother)

/ Janna Hill / 7 Comments

Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.


Old family photo

Old family photo

Me: Look at this old photograph I found the other day mama. That’s back when you smoked and had curly hair.

Mama: You mean back before you drove me to pulling it out by the roots.

Me: You still have a lot of hair mother.

Mama: Not nearly as much and what I do have has been pulled straight as a board.

Me: I’m sorry I worried you.

Mama: You still worry me.

Me: Why? I have been an upstanding citizen for years now.

Mama: I’ve noticed you’re not working on your promotions.

Me: I thought you said relations, so I worked on that.

Mama: So you’re gettin’ plenty of sex then?

Me: Yes ma’am.

Mama: Okay now get to work on your promotions.

Me: You want me to promote my relations?

Mama: Hell no. You know what I mean.

Me: You told me a few weeks ago I should get back to writing.

Mama: So how is the latest story coming along?

Me: I’ve got a few thousand words written.

Mama: Yep. Same 3,449 you had last month I bet. I never see you online.

Me: I don’t see you on line either.

Mama: Don’t get sassy with me little girl. You know my computer is slow and I don’t have all day to wait on a single page to load. I’m busy.

Me: I know you are. Between watching Jeopardy and feeding the dog I don’t know how you manage to have dinner ready by 4 PM much less find time to get online.

Mama: I get on there once or twice a week but you know that computer is so old.

Me: What about your laptop? The one you got for your birthday, it’s fairly new.

Mama: I don’t like the way it feels – I don’t know why you girls even got that for me.

Me: Because you asked for it?

Mama: I wanted something that would surf faster.

Me: Your ISP is the problem mother, not the computer.

Mama: If my ESP was working I wouldn’t need a computer.

Me: No, I said your ISP. That is your internet service provider. You need to upgrade.

Mama: I can’t get anything but dial up where I live.

Me: All of your neighbors have high speed internet.

Mama: Big deal. Your brother still has to walk out in the back yard to use his cell phone.

Me: You could get an internet dish.

Mama: I already have a dish.

Me: Do they offer an internet service package?

Mama: That’s thirty dollars more a month.

Me: That doesn’t sound bad.

Mama: I think I just need another computer.

Me: That wouldn’t help.

Mama: That attitude right there is why you’re not selling more books.

Me: Why do you say that?

Mama: Well instead of blogging all day and worrying about what I’m doing you could be attending book signings. I saw one in last week’s paper.

Me: Yeah, I saw that. They invited four or five authors – I wasn’t one of them.

Mama: You should go anyway.

Me: Hey, that would be fun. You and I could go and check out the new books.

Mama: I don’t have time to lollygag around some bookstore. I want you to go – you could share a table with some nice girl and maybe make a real friend. You need to interact more with living people.

Me: You make it sound like I hang out in cemeteries.

Mama: How do you know those online people are who they say they are?

Me: I don’t know if they are honest but I feel pretty sure they are alive.

Mama: Might just be your computer talking back to you.

Me: You should write about that.

Mama: Might be a woman pretending to be a gay man.

Me: Hey, I heard a story like that. There was a-

Mama: Shh!  Alex Trebek is talking.

Crazy Conversations (Christmas Dinner)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Cotton, peas, your friends, your seat, your nose… There are a lot of things you can pick. Family isn’t one of them. Disclaimer: Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one. This is a work of ‘true fiction’ inspired by family. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. CAUTION: They cuss.

Teddy, Gene and Beth couldn’t be with us due to the fact that Teddy and Gene had a hangover prior engagement [they had some how forgotten about] and poor Beth is a tit bag didn’t feel well.Turkey Tom

Robert: Why are we having turkey? Turkey is traditional. I thought you all agreed on a non-traditional Christmas dinner.

Audrey: We did.

Robert: Well turkey is about as non-traditional as my –

Audrey: Robert! Watch your mouth. Besides this is Christmas Eve, you can have a non-traditional dinner tomorrow.

Robert: But what about today?

Audrey: Today you will eat turkey.

Tom: If I’d known we were having turkey I would have stayed home.

Audrey: Just carve the bird dear; you don’t have to eat it.  Be sure to set some aside for Beth. She likes turkey and it might make her feel better.

Robert: Beth will eat anything that doesn’t eat her first. She should have dragged her lazy ass off of the sofa if she wanted turkey.  I ought to eat the whole bird out of spite – that would serve her right.

Tom: Bob please don’t talk bad about Beth when she isn’t here to defend herself.

Robert: What did I say that wasn’t true? You know you’re married to a bitchy hag that thinks she’s a diva.

Tom: She is my diva.

Robert: Oh hell, now you’re gonna make me puke. You have no idea there is a difference between a diva and a bitch.

Audrey: Stop it Robert! I can’t believe you kissed my mother with that nasty mouth.

Robert: Don’t worry; I spit the cuss words out before I kissed her. So what are we having for meat?

Audrey: There is chicken in the dressing, eat that.

Robert: There isn’t enough chicken in that dressing to fill my hollow tooth.

Audrey: First you insult my sister now you disrespect my mother’s dressing?

Robert: How am I disrespecting her dressing?

Audrey: You know there is a whole chicken in there and you make a smart alack remark about your hollow tooth. Maybe you should see a dentist.

Robert: I saw the dentist two weeks ago. You know that.

Audrey: What did he say about that hollow tooth? Did he offer to fill it?

Robert: I don’t need any fillings, my teeth are perfectly fine.

Audrey: Then the chicken shouldn’t be a problem.

Robert: This is the saddest damn dinner I’ve ever seen. It is gawdam meatless. I bet Beth is layed up eating a slab of frickin’ brisket. You’re right Tom, you should have stayed home and I should have gone to your house.

Audrey: Kiss my ass Robert.

Robert: OH, Audrey. You said a bad word.

Tom: She didn’t mean it.

Audrey: Oh I totally meant it! Literally. I don’t give a flying rat’s patootie if he eats the turkey or the dressing but I sincerely want him to kiss my bare naked butt or he’ll have turkey sandwiches for a month.

Robert: Now I never said I didn’t like turkey sandwiches. Come to think of it I like them a lot on wheat bread with mayonnaise… Tom slice it real thin and wrap a few pieces for us to take home. Not the drumstick, I don’t like-

Audrey: Robert?

Robert: What?

Audrey: Would you like to kiss my derrière before or after you say the blessing?

Robert: After would probably be better for me.

Weekly Photo Challenge : Delicate

/ Janna Hill / 7 Comments
The dainty weaves of a dream-catcher
The frail skin around the eye
The tender glistening taste buds
The sensitive hairs of the nares
The delicate traces of dust and webs

Thank you dear husband for allowing me to photograph your delicate sensory organs while you slept. I was so excited when you yawned, exposing your pretty little tongue to the camera. I must admit I worried you were going to wake up when I pulled at your eyelid but you were such a trooper and went right back to snoring. I’m sorry about waving the dusty faux rose in your face but it was part of the ceremony. Oh, and you were right sweetie, you do need to trim your nose hairs.

This week’s photo challenge is titled Delicate

Pardon My French

/ Janna Hill / 9 Comments

Pardon my French or rather my lack of. While you’re at it please pardon my inability to speak any language that doesn’t include ain’t and y’all. I’m a Hick. There, I’ve said it.

I have at times been mistakenly called a hillbilly but that is not the correct terminology. For the record I am not a hillbilly. The only hills in my neck of the woods are inhabited by moles. I, sir or madam am a Hick. A Hick from the sticks, residing in a rural wooded area shared with other uncouth creatures and Hick type peoples. I do not live in a mobile home but would like to when I get rich.

I am however a worldly Hick.  My electronic travels have taken me places I never knew existed, far beyond the bounds of a barbed wire fence. I converse with all sorts of people from different creeds, castes and cultures made possible by use of a translator tool. I am getting quite an education.

I speak Hick and a little bit of French. You see around here we say “pardon my French” in conjunction with cursing. It is a built in irrevocable vindication. Calling it French makes it completely pardonable, e.g.  “He is a lousy son of a bitch, pardon my French.”

I think the translator tool is an awesome invention but sometimes what one intends to convey gets a tad bit distorted in the conversion. (Note: English is the closest dialect to Hick currently available)

Here is an example of how the aforementioned statement describing a worthless man can get misconstrued in a non- Hick translation.

From English to French “iI est un fils de pute moche”

From French back to English “He is a son of a ugly bitch”

No, no, no! Calling him a ‘lousy son of a bitch’ was about him. Calling him ‘a son of a ugly bitch’ directs the insult to his mother. (Whom you may happen to like very much)

I suppose calling someone a son of a bitch is technically an insult to their mother regardless, but calling her ugly just seems too rude.

Linguistics. Now that is some interesting sh*t.  Pardon my French.