Linda L. Zern's Blog, page 17
December 6, 2016
The Book of Saint Zern
Chapter 2
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from the DMV that all the world should be about renewing their driver’s licenses, but mostly one Linda of Kissimmee Park.
2 (And this bureaucratic nonsense did vex Linda of Kissimmee Park.)
3 Yet she went to be renewed in her fifty-eighth year, only to see forth that her social security scrap of teensy paper was nowhere to be found, nay, not in all her bags and sacks and bundles and so her quest did begin to satisfy those that ‘rule by desks’ in the land of her birth in that selfsame year.
4 And Sherwood also went up to Kissimmee out of the city of Saint Cloud to keep his espoused wife from losing her mind (she being great with annoyance) in the obtaining of another scrap of teensy paper bearing record of her lineage and reality.
5 And while they were there, behold, it draweth nigh to Christmas and the time to speak forth of the many and great blessings that had come unto to the tribe of Zern in the year of the renewing of the license or the year of great vexation.
6 And the oldest of the tribe, one Aric of College Station and his wife, one Lauren of Saint Cloud, did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
7 And in this same year the family of Lorance did both pack their camels and asses and did travel over the land to Dallas of Texas and did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
8 And the tribe did grow great both in children and in tender mercies. And the children that were considered grand did number fourteen. And Zoe Baye did sing a solo at the community center; Conner grew strong in both reading and speaking; Emma read much and won second place in a contest of costumes at the place of books; Sadie and Kipling dideth go down into the waters of baptism; Zachary Jon grew in strength and grace to score many goals, Scout went from the nursery to primary, Leidy did walk and run, Reagan swam much and quickly, Hero rode forth on a horse without assistance, Ever Jane stood forth and walked, Gummy did try out his real name (Griffin), and both Silas and Boone delighted it the world and its adventures in their first year.
9 And their parents did plead for both patience and rest.
10 And Linda did make known the saying that when one is a parent, life is eighty percent worry and twenty percent fun, but when a grandparent those numbers being the opposite. It is eighty percent fun and twenty percent worry because of a sure knowledge that whatever weirdo thing those kids are doing they will some day outgrow—or not.
11 And so it was with us in the year of the great vexation. We did make merry but not unto death. And we did speak much of that which is deeply considered, finding the greatest happiness in both being together and eating much. Of our tribe it is said that verily even the infants speaketh forth their opinions.
12 And so we did make our way in both the lowlands of Florida and the great spaces of Texas to become mighty in both gratitude and love, for that which the Lord doth see fit to bless us with, now and forever.
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from the DMV that all the world should be about renewing their driver’s licenses, but mostly one Linda of Kissimmee Park.
2 (And this bureaucratic nonsense did vex Linda of Kissimmee Park.)
3 Yet she went to be renewed in her fifty-eighth year, only to see forth that her social security scrap of teensy paper was nowhere to be found, nay, not in all her bags and sacks and bundles and so her quest did begin to satisfy those that ‘rule by desks’ in the land of her birth in that selfsame year.
4 And Sherwood also went up to Kissimmee out of the city of Saint Cloud to keep his espoused wife from losing her mind (she being great with annoyance) in the obtaining of another scrap of teensy paper bearing record of her lineage and reality.
5 And while they were there, behold, it draweth nigh to Christmas and the time to speak forth of the many and great blessings that had come unto to the tribe of Zern in the year of the renewing of the license or the year of great vexation.
6 And the oldest of the tribe, one Aric of College Station and his wife, one Lauren of Saint Cloud, did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
7 And in this same year the family of Lorance did both pack their camels and asses and did travel over the land to Dallas of Texas and did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
8 And the tribe did grow great both in children and in tender mercies. And the children that were considered grand did number fourteen. And Zoe Baye did sing a solo at the community center; Conner grew strong in both reading and speaking; Emma read much and won second place in a contest of costumes at the place of books; Sadie and Kipling dideth go down into the waters of baptism; Zachary Jon grew in strength and grace to score many goals, Scout went from the nursery to primary, Leidy did walk and run, Reagan swam much and quickly, Hero rode forth on a horse without assistance, Ever Jane stood forth and walked, Gummy did try out his real name (Griffin), and both Silas and Boone delighted it the world and its adventures in their first year.
9 And their parents did plead for both patience and rest.
10 And Linda did make known the saying that when one is a parent, life is eighty percent worry and twenty percent fun, but when a grandparent those numbers being the opposite. It is eighty percent fun and twenty percent worry because of a sure knowledge that whatever weirdo thing those kids are doing they will some day outgrow—or not.
11 And so it was with us in the year of the great vexation. We did make merry but not unto death. And we did speak much of that which is deeply considered, finding the greatest happiness in both being together and eating much. Of our tribe it is said that verily even the infants speaketh forth their opinions.
12 And so we did make our way in both the lowlands of Florida and the great spaces of Texas to become mighty in both gratitude and love, for that which the Lord doth see fit to bless us with, now and forever.
The Book of Saint Zern
Chapter 2
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from the DMV that all the world should be about renewing their driver’s licenses, but mostly one Linda of Kissimmee Park.
2 (And this bureaucratic nonsense did vex Linda of Kissimmee Park.)
3 Yet she went to be renewed in her fifty-eighth year, only to see forth that her social security scrap of teensy paper was nowhere to be found, nay, not in all her bags and sacks and bundles and so her quest did begin to satisfy those that ‘rule by desks’ in the land of her birth in that selfsame year.
4 And Sherwood also went up to Kissimmee out of the city of Saint Cloud to keep his espoused wife from losing her mind (she being great with annoyance) in the obtaining of another scrap of teensy paper bearing record of her lineage and reality.
5 And while they were there, behold, it draweth nigh to Christmas and the time to speak forth of the many and great blessings that had come unto to the tribe of Zern in the year of the renewing of the license or the year of great vexation.
6 And the oldest of the tribe, one Aric of College Station and his wife, one Lauren of Saint Cloud, did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
7 And in this same year the family of Lorance did both pack their camels and asses and did travel over the land to Dallas of Texas and did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
8 And the tribe did grow great both in children and in tender mercies. And the children that were considered grand did number fourteen. And Zoe Baye did sing a solo at the community center; Conner grew strong in both reading and speaking; Emma read much and won second place in a contest of costumes at the place of books; Sadie and Kipling dideth go down into the waters of baptism; Zachary Jon grew in strength and grace to score many goals, Scout went from the nursery to primary, Leidy did walk and run, Reagan swam much and quickly, Hero rode forth on a horse without assistance, Ever Jane stood forth and walked, Gummy did try out his real name (Griffin), and both Silas and Boone delighted it the world and its adventures in their first year.
9 And their parents did plead for both patience and rest.
10 And Linda did make known the saying that when one is a parent, life is eighty percent worry and twenty percent fun, but when a grandparent those numbers being the opposite. It is eighty percent fun and twenty percent worry because of a sure knowledge that whatever weirdo thing those kids are doing they will some day outgrow—or not.
11 And so it was with us in the year of the great vexation. We did make merry but not unto death. And we did speak much of that which is deeply considered, finding the greatest happiness in both being together and eating much. Of our tribe it is said that verily even the infants speaketh forth their opinions.
12 And so we did make our way in both the lowlands of Florida and the great spaces of Texas to become mighty in both gratitude and love, for that which the Lord doth see fit to bless us with, now and forever.
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from the DMV that all the world should be about renewing their driver’s licenses, but mostly one Linda of Kissimmee Park.
2 (And this bureaucratic nonsense did vex Linda of Kissimmee Park.)
3 Yet she went to be renewed in her fifty-eighth year, only to see forth that her social security scrap of teensy paper was nowhere to be found, nay, not in all her bags and sacks and bundles and so her quest did begin to satisfy those that ‘rule by desks’ in the land of her birth in that selfsame year.
4 And Sherwood also went up to Kissimmee out of the city of Saint Cloud to keep his espoused wife from losing her mind (she being great with annoyance) in the obtaining of another scrap of teensy paper bearing record of her lineage and reality.
5 And while they were there, behold, it draweth nigh to Christmas and the time to speak forth of the many and great blessings that had come unto to the tribe of Zern in the year of the renewing of the license or the year of great vexation.
6 And the oldest of the tribe, one Aric of College Station and his wife, one Lauren of Saint Cloud, did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
7 And in this same year the family of Lorance did both pack their camels and asses and did travel over the land to Dallas of Texas and did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
8 And the tribe did grow great both in children and in tender mercies. And the children that were considered grand did number fourteen. And Zoe Baye did sing a solo at the community center; Conner grew strong in both reading and speaking; Emma read much and won second place in a contest of costumes at the place of books; Sadie and Kipling dideth go down into the waters of baptism; Zachary Jon grew in strength and grace to score many goals, Scout went from the nursery to primary, Leidy did walk and run, Reagan swam much and quickly, Hero rode forth on a horse without assistance, Ever Jane stood forth and walked, Gummy did try out his real name (Griffin), and both Silas and Boone delighted it the world and its adventures in their first year.
9 And their parents did plead for both patience and rest.
10 And Linda did make known the saying that when one is a parent, life is eighty percent worry and twenty percent fun, but when a grandparent those numbers being the opposite. It is eighty percent fun and twenty percent worry because of a sure knowledge that whatever weirdo thing those kids are doing they will some day outgrow—or not.
11 And so it was with us in the year of the great vexation. We did make merry but not unto death. And we did speak much of that which is deeply considered, finding the greatest happiness in both being together and eating much. Of our tribe it is said that verily even the infants speaketh forth their opinions.
12 And so we did make our way in both the lowlands of Florida and the great spaces of Texas to become mighty in both gratitude and love, for that which the Lord doth see fit to bless us with, now and forever.
The Book of Saint Zern
Chapter 2
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from the DMV that all the world should be about renewing their driver’s licenses, but mostly one Linda of Kissimmee Park.
2 (And this bureaucratic nonsense did vex Linda of Kissimmee Park.)
3 Yet she went to be renewed in her fifty-eighth year, only to see forth that her social security scrap of teensy paper was nowhere to be found, nay, not in all her bags and sacks and bundles and so her quest did begin to satisfy those that ‘rule by desks’ in the land of her birth in that selfsame year.
4 And Sherwood also went up to Kissimmee out of the city of Saint Cloud to keep his espoused wife from losing her mind (she being great with annoyance) in the obtaining of another scrap of teensy paper bearing record of her lineage and reality.
5 And while they were there, behold, it draweth nigh to Christmas and the time to speak forth of the many and great blessings that had come unto to the tribe of Zern in the year of the renewing of the license or the year of great vexation.
6 And the oldest of the tribe, one Aric of College Station and his wife, one Lauren of Saint Cloud, did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
7 And in this same year the family of Lorance did both pack their camels and asses and did travel over the land to Dallas of Texas and did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
8 And the tribe did grow great both in children and in tender mercies. And the children that were considered grand did number fourteen. And Zoe Baye did sing a solo at the community center; Conner grew strong in both reading and speaking; Emma read much and won second place in a contest of costumes at the place of books; Sadie and Kipling dideth go down into the waters of baptism; Zachary Jon grew in strength and grace to score many goals, Scout went from the nursery to primary, Leidy did walk and run, Reagan swam much and quickly, Hero rode forth on a horse without assistance, Ever Jane stood forth and walked, Gummy did try out his real name (Griffin), and both Silas and Boone delighted it the world and its adventures in their first year.
9 And their parents did plead for both patience and rest.
10 And Linda did make known the saying that when one is a parent, life is eighty percent worry and twenty percent fun, but when a grandparent those numbers being the opposite. It is eighty percent fun and twenty percent worry because of a sure knowledge that whatever weirdo thing those kids are doing they will some day outgrow—or not.
11 And so it was with us in the year of the great vexation. We did make merry but not unto death. And we did speak much of that which is deeply considered, finding the greatest happiness in both being together and eating much. Of our tribe it is said that verily even the infants speaketh forth their opinions.
12 And so we did make our way in both the lowlands of Florida and the great spaces of Texas to become mighty in both gratitude and love, for that which the Lord doth see fit to bless us with, now and forever.
And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from the DMV that all the world should be about renewing their driver’s licenses, but mostly one Linda of Kissimmee Park.
2 (And this bureaucratic nonsense did vex Linda of Kissimmee Park.)
3 Yet she went to be renewed in her fifty-eighth year, only to see forth that her social security scrap of teensy paper was nowhere to be found, nay, not in all her bags and sacks and bundles and so her quest did begin to satisfy those that ‘rule by desks’ in the land of her birth in that selfsame year.
4 And Sherwood also went up to Kissimmee out of the city of Saint Cloud to keep his espoused wife from losing her mind (she being great with annoyance) in the obtaining of another scrap of teensy paper bearing record of her lineage and reality.
5 And while they were there, behold, it draweth nigh to Christmas and the time to speak forth of the many and great blessings that had come unto to the tribe of Zern in the year of the renewing of the license or the year of great vexation.
6 And the oldest of the tribe, one Aric of College Station and his wife, one Lauren of Saint Cloud, did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
7 And in this same year the family of Lorance did both pack their camels and asses and did travel over the land to Dallas of Texas and did bring forth their first born son and he was beloved of all.
8 And the tribe did grow great both in children and in tender mercies. And the children that were considered grand did number fourteen. And Zoe Baye did sing a solo at the community center; Conner grew strong in both reading and speaking; Emma read much and won second place in a contest of costumes at the place of books; Sadie and Kipling dideth go down into the waters of baptism; Zachary Jon grew in strength and grace to score many goals, Scout went from the nursery to primary, Leidy did walk and run, Reagan swam much and quickly, Hero rode forth on a horse without assistance, Ever Jane stood forth and walked, Gummy did try out his real name (Griffin), and both Silas and Boone delighted it the world and its adventures in their first year.
9 And their parents did plead for both patience and rest.
10 And Linda did make known the saying that when one is a parent, life is eighty percent worry and twenty percent fun, but when a grandparent those numbers being the opposite. It is eighty percent fun and twenty percent worry because of a sure knowledge that whatever weirdo thing those kids are doing they will some day outgrow—or not.
11 And so it was with us in the year of the great vexation. We did make merry but not unto death. And we did speak much of that which is deeply considered, finding the greatest happiness in both being together and eating much. Of our tribe it is said that verily even the infants speaketh forth their opinions.
12 And so we did make our way in both the lowlands of Florida and the great spaces of Texas to become mighty in both gratitude and love, for that which the Lord doth see fit to bless us with, now and forever.
November 30, 2016
Prepared Writing
My war was cold. I grew up waiting for the cold war to heat up. It never did. There were some tense moments when Castro invited the Russians to his island with their atomic bombs, and President Kennedy said, “Go home.” They went.
In the meantime, I prepared for the cold war to go hot by hiding under my desk at school and every Saturday watching movies filled with mutants, fallout, and radiated wastelands. Those movies gave my bad dreams and ignited my imagination.
My generation invented dystopian, futuristic, end-of-times storytelling. Godzilla wasn’t just a big lizard; he was also a metaphor for rampaging, worldwide destruction. Not to mention, he made a few bucks in the movies.
I grew up thinking about fallout shelters and mutant monsters.
And now I write “Prepper” fiction, among other genres. It’s a sub genre of fiction falling under science fiction but without the ray guns. It’s a category of action adventure with a futuristic theme but without the space aliens. It’s a kind of speculative writing but without the zombies. Humans are the zombies.
Prepper fiction is a realistic, what-if, survival story. Pat Frank’s “Alas Babylon” written in the 1950’s, dealing with the aftermath of a nuclear war and set in Florida was a national best seller and is a classic example of the genre. Doomsday possibilities include: solar flares, EMP attacks, financial collapse, nuclear warfare, invasion, pandemic, ecological disasters, and the list goes on . . .
Prepper fiction is an exercise in imagination.
Prepper fiction can be frightening.
Prepper fiction examines the collapse and re-formation of societal constructs.
Prepper fiction deals with preparations for “doomsday” scenarios or the lack thereof . . .
I’ve had people say to me that my books gave them bad dreams. At first, I was horrified and thought, “Oh no. What have I done?” But then, on future examination, I thought, after rubbing my hands together in glee, “Oh my! What have I done?!!”
Prepper fiction is not your momma’s cotton candy romance, although romance in a doomsday setting can be much more intense and realistic than an average love story. Sex and pregnancy become a life and death theme without modern medicine.
In a prepper novel, life becomes an exercise in imagination filled with “what if” questions.
What if there’s no electric? What if I can’t refrigerate my food? What if I can’t buy gas? What if there’s no money?
How would I find clean, drinking water? How do I stay clean? Preserve food? Stitch a wound? Set a bone? Pickle a cucumber? Keep bugs off? Have safe sex? Stay human and hopeful?
Prepper fiction is action/adventure set in a realistic apocalyptic collapse of civilization that some people will be prepared for but most will not.
It can be scary, intense, and upsetting. It can also get readers to think . . . and maybe, just maybe . . . prepare.
Linda (Bunker Babe) Zern
In the meantime, I prepared for the cold war to go hot by hiding under my desk at school and every Saturday watching movies filled with mutants, fallout, and radiated wastelands. Those movies gave my bad dreams and ignited my imagination.
My generation invented dystopian, futuristic, end-of-times storytelling. Godzilla wasn’t just a big lizard; he was also a metaphor for rampaging, worldwide destruction. Not to mention, he made a few bucks in the movies.
I grew up thinking about fallout shelters and mutant monsters.
And now I write “Prepper” fiction, among other genres. It’s a sub genre of fiction falling under science fiction but without the ray guns. It’s a category of action adventure with a futuristic theme but without the space aliens. It’s a kind of speculative writing but without the zombies. Humans are the zombies.
Prepper fiction is a realistic, what-if, survival story. Pat Frank’s “Alas Babylon” written in the 1950’s, dealing with the aftermath of a nuclear war and set in Florida was a national best seller and is a classic example of the genre. Doomsday possibilities include: solar flares, EMP attacks, financial collapse, nuclear warfare, invasion, pandemic, ecological disasters, and the list goes on . . .
Prepper fiction is an exercise in imagination.
Prepper fiction can be frightening.
Prepper fiction examines the collapse and re-formation of societal constructs.
Prepper fiction deals with preparations for “doomsday” scenarios or the lack thereof . . .
I’ve had people say to me that my books gave them bad dreams. At first, I was horrified and thought, “Oh no. What have I done?” But then, on future examination, I thought, after rubbing my hands together in glee, “Oh my! What have I done?!!”
Prepper fiction is not your momma’s cotton candy romance, although romance in a doomsday setting can be much more intense and realistic than an average love story. Sex and pregnancy become a life and death theme without modern medicine.
In a prepper novel, life becomes an exercise in imagination filled with “what if” questions.
What if there’s no electric? What if I can’t refrigerate my food? What if I can’t buy gas? What if there’s no money?
How would I find clean, drinking water? How do I stay clean? Preserve food? Stitch a wound? Set a bone? Pickle a cucumber? Keep bugs off? Have safe sex? Stay human and hopeful?
Prepper fiction is action/adventure set in a realistic apocalyptic collapse of civilization that some people will be prepared for but most will not.
It can be scary, intense, and upsetting. It can also get readers to think . . . and maybe, just maybe . . . prepare.
Linda (Bunker Babe) Zern
PREPARED WRITING
My war was cold. I grew up waiting for the cold war to heat up. It never did. There were some tense moments when Castro invited the Russians to his island with their atomic bombs, and President Kennedy said, “Go home.” They went.In the meantime, I prepared for the cold war to go hot by hiding under my desk at school and every Saturday watching movies filled with mutants, fallout, and radiated wastelands. Those movies gave my bad dreams and ignited my imagination.
My generation invented dystopian, futuristic, end-of-times storytelling. Godzilla wasn’t just a big lizard; he was also a metaphor for rampaging, worldwide destruction. Not to mention, he made a few bucks in the movies.
I grew up thinking about fallout shelters and mutant monsters.
And now I write “Prepper” fiction, among other genres. It’s a sub genre of fiction falling under science fiction but without the ray guns. It’s a category of action adventure with a futuristic theme but without the space aliens. It’s a kind of speculative writing but without the zombies. Humans are the zombies.
Prepper fiction is a realistic, what-if, survival story. Pat Frank’s “Alas Babylon” written in the 1950’s, dealing with the aftermath of a nuclear war and set in Florida was a national best seller and is a classic example of the genre. Doomsday possibilities include: solar flares, EMP attacks, financial collapse, nuclear warfare, invasion, pandemic, ecological disasters, and the list goes on . . .
Prepper fiction is an exercise in imagination.
Prepper fiction can be frightening.
Prepper fiction examines the collapse and re-formation of societal constructs.
Prepper fiction deals with preparations for “doomsday” scenarios or the lack thereof . . .
I’ve had people say to me that my books gave them bad dreams. At first, I was horrified and thought, “Oh no. What have I done?” But then, on future examination, I thought, after rubbing my hands together in glee, “Oh my! What have I done?!!”
Prepper fiction is not your momma’s cotton candy romance, although romance in a doomsday setting can be much more intense and realistic than an average love story. Sex and pregnancy become a life and death theme without modern medicine.
In a prepper novel, life becomes an exercise in imagination filled with “what if” questions.
What if there’s no electric? What if I can’t refrigerate my food? What if I can’t buy gas? What if there’s no money?
How would I find clean, drinking water? How do I stay clean? Preserve food? Stitch a wound? Set a bone? Pickle a cucumber? Keep bugs off? Have safe sex? Stay human and hopeful?
Prepper fiction is action/adventure set in a realistic apocalyptic collapse of civilization that some people will be prepared for but most will not.
It can be scary, intense, and upsetting. It can also get readers to think . . . and maybe, just maybe . . . prepare.
Linda (Bunker Babe) Zern
PREPARED WRITING
My war was cold. I grew up waiting for the cold war to heat up. It never did. There were some tense moments when Castro invited the Russians to his island with their atomic bombs, and President Kennedy said, “Go home.” They went.In the meantime, I prepared for the cold war to go hot by hiding under my desk at school and every Saturday watching movies filled with mutants, fallout, and radiated wastelands. Those movies gave my bad dreams and ignited my imagination.
My generation invented dystopian, futuristic, end-of-times storytelling. Godzilla wasn’t just a big lizard; he was also a metaphor for rampaging, worldwide destruction. Not to mention, he made a few bucks in the movies.
I grew up thinking about fallout shelters and mutant monsters.
And now I write “Prepper” fiction, among other genres. It’s a sub genre of fiction falling under science fiction but without the ray guns. It’s a category of action adventure with a futuristic theme but without the space aliens. It’s a kind of speculative writing but without the zombies. Humans are the zombies.
Prepper fiction is a realistic, what-if, survival story. Pat Frank’s “Alas Babylon” written in the 1950’s, dealing with the aftermath of a nuclear war and set in Florida was a national best seller and is a classic example of the genre. Doomsday possibilities include: solar flares, EMP attacks, financial collapse, nuclear warfare, invasion, pandemic, ecological disasters, and the list goes on . . .
Prepper fiction is an exercise in imagination.
Prepper fiction can be frightening.
Prepper fiction examines the collapse and re-formation of societal constructs.
Prepper fiction deals with preparations for “doomsday” scenarios or the lack thereof . . .
I’ve had people say to me that my books gave them bad dreams. At first, I was horrified and thought, “Oh no. What have I done?” But then, on future examination, I thought, after rubbing my hands together in glee, “Oh my! What have I done?!!”
Prepper fiction is not your momma’s cotton candy romance, although romance in a doomsday setting can be much more intense and realistic than an average love story. Sex and pregnancy become a life and death theme without modern medicine.
In a prepper novel, life becomes an exercise in imagination filled with “what if” questions.
What if there’s no electric? What if I can’t refrigerate my food? What if I can’t buy gas? What if there’s no money?
How would I find clean, drinking water? How do I stay clean? Preserve food? Stitch a wound? Set a bone? Pickle a cucumber? Keep bugs off? Have safe sex? Stay human and hopeful?
Prepper fiction is action/adventure set in a realistic apocalyptic collapse of civilization that some people will be prepared for but most will not.
It can be scary, intense, and upsetting. It can also get readers to think . . . and maybe, just maybe . . . prepare.
Linda (Bunker Babe) Zern
November 14, 2016
Scoop One, Drop Two
People love horses in a parade and why not? They’re beautiful. They’re big. They’re mildly intimidating. They poop.
They poop, a lot, which seems to shock and delight parade watchers. As a country girl I find the parade watcher’s shock and delight, shocking. When did society forget that animals do not use port-a-potties?
Horses in parades pooping, redefines potty humor. Scooping poop behind a herd of horses is one step up from riding in the clown car at the circus. People love it. Ha. Ha. That horse just plopped a six-foot trail of masticated grass stuff and now you have to scoop it up. That’s hilarious. “It’s a crappy job, but somebody has to do it.”
But why? Why is poop so darn, ‘stinking’ funny? We all do it, from the Queen of England to the hamster in the kid’s bedroom to the search and rescue horses in your community Veteran’s Day parade. It’s a biologic imperative or the biggest laugh at clown-college.
I quit laughing at poop when I was nine. But I have a grown daughter (with five children) who still can’t not (yes, yes, a double negative) laugh at the idea of poop, the act of poop, or the cartoon depiction of poop. She’s a poop giggler. There’s a toy plastic pig that when you squeeze it, a plastic bubble of poop pops out of the pig’s bottom. She laughs—every single time. Squeeze. Laugh. Squeeze. Laugh. She’s a nine-year old boy. I don’t get it.
Recently, my husband discovered that movie popcorn acts like radioactive poison on his internal plumbing.
I can’t really go into details, but I will say that at one point after we’d arrived home from the movies and he’d retired to the room of rest, I thought my husband had died and his bowels had released. It had me wondering if the coroner had a one-eight hundred number. Later, he stuck his head out of the bathroom door and said, “Don’t come in here. No matter what.” He disappeared again.
Popcorn? Who knew?
Which brings us to dignity; there isn’t any. People telling you dignity is a God-given right forget that God designed the poop factor and the humor component associated with it. We come into this life in a haze of goo and go out of it in a pile of gick.
Abandon dignity and start living. That’s my motto. If you need a jump-start, climb on board the poop wagon behind the mounted posse and scoop up a bucket full of road apples in front of dozens of strangers. It will make you laugh. It will surely bring you closer to the humble edge of self-deprecating humor.
Linda (Scoop One, Drop Two) Zern
They poop, a lot, which seems to shock and delight parade watchers. As a country girl I find the parade watcher’s shock and delight, shocking. When did society forget that animals do not use port-a-potties?
Horses in parades pooping, redefines potty humor. Scooping poop behind a herd of horses is one step up from riding in the clown car at the circus. People love it. Ha. Ha. That horse just plopped a six-foot trail of masticated grass stuff and now you have to scoop it up. That’s hilarious. “It’s a crappy job, but somebody has to do it.”
But why? Why is poop so darn, ‘stinking’ funny? We all do it, from the Queen of England to the hamster in the kid’s bedroom to the search and rescue horses in your community Veteran’s Day parade. It’s a biologic imperative or the biggest laugh at clown-college.
I quit laughing at poop when I was nine. But I have a grown daughter (with five children) who still can’t not (yes, yes, a double negative) laugh at the idea of poop, the act of poop, or the cartoon depiction of poop. She’s a poop giggler. There’s a toy plastic pig that when you squeeze it, a plastic bubble of poop pops out of the pig’s bottom. She laughs—every single time. Squeeze. Laugh. Squeeze. Laugh. She’s a nine-year old boy. I don’t get it.
Recently, my husband discovered that movie popcorn acts like radioactive poison on his internal plumbing.
I can’t really go into details, but I will say that at one point after we’d arrived home from the movies and he’d retired to the room of rest, I thought my husband had died and his bowels had released. It had me wondering if the coroner had a one-eight hundred number. Later, he stuck his head out of the bathroom door and said, “Don’t come in here. No matter what.” He disappeared again.
Popcorn? Who knew?
Which brings us to dignity; there isn’t any. People telling you dignity is a God-given right forget that God designed the poop factor and the humor component associated with it. We come into this life in a haze of goo and go out of it in a pile of gick.
Abandon dignity and start living. That’s my motto. If you need a jump-start, climb on board the poop wagon behind the mounted posse and scoop up a bucket full of road apples in front of dozens of strangers. It will make you laugh. It will surely bring you closer to the humble edge of self-deprecating humor.
Linda (Scoop One, Drop Two) Zern
Scoop One, Drop Two
People love horses in a parade and why not? They’re beautiful. They’re big. They’re mildly intimidating. They poop. They poop, a lot, which seems to shock and delight parade watchers. As a country girl I find the parade watcher’s shock and delight, shocking. When did society forget that animals do not use port-a-potties?
Horses in parades pooping, redefines potty humor. Scooping poop behind a herd of horses is one step up from riding in the clown car at the circus. People love it. Ha. Ha. That horse just plopped a six-foot trail of masticated grass stuff and now you have to scoop it up. That’s hilarious. “It’s a crappy job, but somebody has to do it.”
But why? Why is poop so darn, ‘stinking’ funny? We all do it, from the Queen of England to the hamster in the kid’s bedroom to the search and rescue horses in your community Veteran’s Day parade. It’s a biologic imperative or the biggest laugh at clown-college.
I quit laughing at poop when I was nine. But I have a grown daughter (with five children) who still can’t not (yes, yes, a double negative) laugh at the idea of poop, the act of poop, or the cartoon depiction of poop. She’s a poop giggler. There’s a toy plastic pig that when you squeeze it, a plastic bubble of poop pops out of the pig’s bottom. She laughs—every single time. Squeeze. Laugh. Squeeze. Laugh. She’s a nine-year old boy. I don’t get it.
Recently, my husband discovered that movie popcorn acts like radioactive poison on his internal plumbing.
I can’t really go into details, but I will say that at one point after we’d arrived home from the movies and he’d retired to the room of rest, I thought my husband had died and his bowels had released. It had me wondering if the coroner had a one-eight hundred number. Later, he stuck his head out of the bathroom door and said, “Don’t come in here. No matter what.” He disappeared again.
Popcorn? Who knew?
Which brings us to dignity; there isn’t any. People telling you dignity is a God-given right forget that God designed the poop factor and the humor component associated with it. We come into this life in a haze of goo and go out of it in a pile of gick.
Abandon dignity and start living. That’s my motto. If you need a jump-start, climb on board the poop wagon behind the mounted posse and scoop up a bucket full of road apples in front of dozens of strangers. It will make you laugh. It will surely bring you closer to the humble edge of self-deprecating humor.
Linda (Scoop One, Drop Two) Zern
Scoop One, Drop Two
People love horses in a parade and why not? They’re beautiful. They’re big. They’re mildly intimidating. They poop. They poop, a lot, which seems to shock and delight parade watchers. As a country girl I find the parade watcher’s shock and delight, shocking. When did society forget that animals do not use port-a-potties?
Horses in parades pooping, redefines potty humor. Scooping poop behind a herd of horses is one step up from riding in the clown car at the circus. People love it. Ha. Ha. That horse just plopped a six-foot trail of masticated grass stuff and now you have to scoop it up. That’s hilarious. “It’s a crappy job, but somebody has to do it.”
But why? Why is poop so darn, ‘stinking’ funny? We all do it, from the Queen of England to the hamster in the kid’s bedroom to the search and rescue horses in your community Veteran’s Day parade. It’s a biologic imperative or the biggest laugh at clown-college.
I quit laughing at poop when I was nine. But I have a grown daughter (with five children) who still can’t not (yes, yes, a double negative) laugh at the idea of poop, the act of poop, or the cartoon depiction of poop. She’s a poop giggler. There’s a toy plastic pig that when you squeeze it, a plastic bubble of poop pops out of the pig’s bottom. She laughs—every single time. Squeeze. Laugh. Squeeze. Laugh. She’s a nine-year old boy. I don’t get it.
Recently, my husband discovered that movie popcorn acts like radioactive poison on his internal plumbing.
I can’t really go into details, but I will say that at one point after we’d arrived home from the movies and he’d retired to the room of rest, I thought my husband had died and his bowels had released. It had me wondering if the coroner had a one-eight hundred number. Later, he stuck his head out of the bathroom door and said, “Don’t come in here. No matter what.” He disappeared again.
Popcorn? Who knew?
Which brings us to dignity; there isn’t any. People telling you dignity is a God-given right forget that God designed the poop factor and the humor component associated with it. We come into this life in a haze of goo and go out of it in a pile of gick.
Abandon dignity and start living. That’s my motto. If you need a jump-start, climb on board the poop wagon behind the mounted posse and scoop up a bucket full of road apples in front of dozens of strangers. It will make you laugh. It will surely bring you closer to the humble edge of self-deprecating humor.
Linda (Scoop One, Drop Two) Zern
