Why is my beer green?

     I like beer.  You humans, particularly Canadians, have a certain affinity for it.

     You drink it at sports games, while watching sports on TV, sitting on the patio, sitting in the basement, standing in a bar.

     You drink it at weddings, graduations, or because it’s Saturday and it’s warm out. Which isn’t sush a bad idea. Don’t mind if I have another.

     And there’s so many kinds. The whole planet makes some type of beer. Tsintao, Tuborg, Heinieken, did I spell that right?

      Did you know we don’t have beer in Eden? And we shertainly don’t have clamato juice there. Probably a good thing. Yuck. Who would put mollusks in perfec(hic)-ly good beer?

     I like limes. I like limes in my Corona. Now THAT’S good beer! I even like thish green crap.

     I like beer…Did I menshun that? There’s only one thing wrong with it. The bottles are too small.

     Sho glad you invented a holiday for thish shtuff!

     Es-shoos me…I need another.  





Photo by: Filomena Scalise/FreeDigitalPhoto.net

Save the Daylights!

A whole day dedicated to saving daylight? I don't get it. I didn't know there was a shortage. We're in a lot of trouble here....

This is another holiday ritual I don't understand, right?

Is this the reason I had to get a watch? So I could turn it forward an hour on Sunday? How strange. What does it mean?


Wait...Excuse me? I have to get up an hour earlier?! That doesn't sound like much of a holiday at all! You humans are crazy...

Pedicures what ails me.

I found it! Paradise on Earth! And there's so many of them.  I believe you call them 'spas'.

Never before have I experienced such pampered, delightful...relaxing....zzzz.

Whoops. I digress. I love what all the slimy concoctions they put on my face do to my skin. After several hundred years, I felt I needed some help. Not to mention your unpredictable weather and gravity has tainted my glow. Hmph!

And the massage! Oh that IS a measure of heaven. I could have used those after some long flights. Mind you, I don't know how the masseuse would have worked around my wings...

But my favorite is the pedicure! Now that I spend my time walking rather than flying, my feet have become alarmingly crusty. So someone shaves them for me and painted my nails with any color I choose? It's divine. And shiny.

They tell me I'm ready for flip-flop season.
Flip-flop season? Oh dear, that doesn't sound good....How much flopping are we talking about?




Photo by africa/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Cutting to the chase about cutlery

     I don't get cutlery. As much as I love earth food, this has been a struggle for me. Using a fork at the same time as a knife is a daunting task. If you have two perfectly good hands, why can't you use those to eat?

     In Eden we had no such tools. All our food was raw, unprocessed and fresh from the vines that grew them. We required  no etiquette and no table manners. For one thing, we had no tables.

     I think your species invented utensils because yours is the only one that cooks it's food. I say that if your food is too hot to the touch than let it cool. Or eat it raw.
     Why can't I simply drink my soup from the bowl? Why must I use a knife to put peanut butter on bread? My hand is bigger. Wouldn't it simply be easier to eat peas like grapes rather than scooping them with a pronged instrument? Why eat fruit with your hands, but fruit salad with a spoon? Don't get me started on chopsticks!
     Sigh. These rules are so confusing, it makes me want to throw my handful of mashed potatos in the air in disgust...



Photo by: Carlos Porto

Halfwits?

     What in the name of the Energy is wrong with your

Halflings? You know, the ones that aren’t quite 

 miniatures and not fully grown humans? They’re very 

strange. They appear to be nocturnal and are fueled by 

Red Bull, cola and MacDonalds. There are two in my 

family unit and I can’t understand either one.

     The male, I am told, is not typical. He’s very smart. 

The female Halfling is obsessed with male Halflings. Both spend a lot of time on confusers…Oh I’m sorry-

computers. Perhaps I was right the first time. They do seem very confused most of the time. When do they 

grow out of it..?  Do they grow out of it?




Photo by: Tina Phillips

Sweet Nothing

     Ah, Valentine’s Day….My very first one. A whole entire day 

dedicated to celebrating the one you love. How come there’s only one? 

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we gave and received flowers and 

chocolate everyday? (Again with the food, you humans are obsessed 

with the stuff) And we could have teddy bears and lingerie, and devote 

more time to cuddling and telling each other how much we wuv each 

other and….What am I saying? Was I just waxing poetic and making 

baby talk ? Yuck. Good thing Valentine’s Day only comes once a year.







Photo by: Nutdanai Apikhomboonwaroot

Birthday Blues

     Uh-oh. I just looked at the calender...
It's here again. My writer's birthday. Hide the liquor!   
     Ohhh...this one's going to be rough. She's thirty-nine on Saturday.
     Every year, around this time of year, she whines and moans about her weight, her hair, her wrinkles and her misspent youth. Isn't she a little young for a mid-life crisis?
     Wah,wah, wah. Can you imagine what she'll be like next year? When she's forty?
     She thinks she's old? I'm so old, I don't remember the first one hundred years.
     She worries about her career? I nearly blew up the universe at my last job. How's that for stress? I was in charge of the welfare of The Energy. How's that for responsibility?

     She's worried that she's not a good enough writer. Nonsense! She's a genius! After all, she created me, right?
     Happy Birthday to my writer-the woman who gave me existence. Cheer up, Mrs. M-- cause I'm fantastic.
     Hmmmm....What do you get for the woman who has me?


Photo by: Idea go