Thursday, December 27, 2012 My Self!

Christmas morning I was awakened from my deep slumber by the blast of my combo iPad/Lawn Mower/Alarm clock playing of all things, “Silent Night."
I sprang out of bed…well sprang is the wrong word since it is obvious my spring has sprung,
I crawled out of bed because my head was filled with so much good cheer from the night’s festivities. Eggnog has Calcium; good for the bones, you know.
 I struggled to the living room to retrieve my gift which I knew I would be getting because I had been very good, frankly against my better judgment. I really like to be bad but there seems to be less opportunity recently. How Old Nick sneaks through our Gated community or down a non-existent chimney in my co-op is mysterious.
 I opened the box gingerly and lo and behold I encountered the most exquisite peignoir set this side of Jean Harlow. The sheer down to here, primrose nightgown was trimmed with a scarlet boa. 

The voices on the couch urged me to try it on. I remember when shouts from a crowd usually said, “Take it off.  Take it off. “   Now I am always hearing “ICK! Put it on for God’s sake”.
I changed into the lovely outfit and immediately felt a draft.
This is what I did the minute they were out of sight.
I ran to the Goodwill bag where my criminally guilty family members had once again stuffed my wonderful, soft, faithful RAG of a bathrobe. They had tried this ploy for years thinking maybe if they bought me something nice I'd get rid of this Schmateaux.(Raggeaux in French).
The sleeves are frayed, the flowers have blown away and the sun kissed yellow has become a nasty shade of Puce. The quilting has matted in big clumps looking like Joan Crawford shoulder pads
Constant washings caused fading and shrinkage. I often get chapped hips. Yet, I love it.
Everyone has something they are attached to. Some men have old sweaters, slippers or girlfriends.
How many of you insist on wearing the same tacky shirt, chicken outfit or jeans? You know you do.
I've never been caught wearing it except by my family. Let’s face it, I could keep the more attractive peignoir set but that would only create problems. Word would get out that I look spiffy and then rich, handsome men would, once again, hound me.
When I was younger and cuter; it created terrible ankle problems because I had to keep kicking throngs of gorgeous guys out of my way. Thankfully it is no longer an issue. Even at my yearly checkup, the doctor insists that I not disrobe. Just yesterday one said “for goodness sakes, please keep your clothes on. I am your dentist”.
As long as there is thread of material or a button hanging in there, so shall I. That is what friends do.
So Santa, you might as well stop this yearly stunt. Stay out of Victoria’s Secret or I will be forced to actually reveal her secret... which happens to concern you and Mrs. Claus’s sister.
To the rest of you; Step away from the robe!
The end

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Thursday, December 6, 2012

Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes

        Dear PCH. I am not naive. I didn't believe it for a minute. I did not fall for your teasing when the first three letters arrived.
I have now received 1708 letters, 2,302 likes on Facebook and 441,780 emails stating that I may be a 10 million-dollar winner.
  You hounded me, sending me secret special numbers that no one else had ( I felt so superior), stating that no purchase was necessary,although those little star windows where my magazine order showed through, obviously was to warn me that if nothing showed, the envelope was spat upon, burned and flushed down the toilet. Whew, that was a long sentence.
     I haven't budged except to walk 2 feet to my mailbox. It is not as if I went out to by a lottery ticket. I was not the aggressor this time. You courted me.
     Listen to me. You are not dealing with a kid. I am cynical, been around the block Jan. But even the most wary among us, would start fantasizing.
  By the 19th  letter, I was seduced. I practiced my twang for my appearances on TV knowing you would definitely ring my chimes. I have practiced jumping up and down and saying real slowly. ‘I-cain’t-bu leeve-ah-wun!”

    Let me reiterate; I didn't contact you. You contacted me. Even though I was originally skeptical, after a while, I became a believer. I trusted you. This is the longest foreplay in the history of life (and while the fantasy is pleasurable) there’s still no satisfying conclusion.

    So yes, I started returning your correspondence and just to sort of guarantee that you'd look at my particular envelope I ordered a magazine or two and then five and 27 and after I ordered every magazine every printed in the US of A and a couple from third world countries I started on the specialty supplements, “DECORATING WITH EGGBOXES,” “WHAT WE CAN LEARN FROM PELICANS,” “MY FRIEND, MY FUNGUS,”
     True,  I could be fun at cocktail parties with this information, but I cannot leave the premises, I must to be here when the money arrives. This has caused life-altering changes for our whole country and to me, personally.

    I haven't left my home to be with my lover. He is very tense and is yelling at all his employees, who then go home and yell at their families who scream at the service people and thus wars start. How do you feel about that, Dave at PCH!

    My children feel neglected because I haven't called to nag them. You know you simply cannot leave nagging to strangers.
     My postman (May he rest in peace) threw himself in front of his jeep because I called him a few times in the middle of the night asking, “Is it here yet?”

    Stores are totally out of wheelbarrows since I bought their complete supply to carry my winnings to bank.

    The banks are going under since they were depending upon my deposit to buy property to give real estate a boost. Did we cause the current economic slowdown?

    The very most horrific part of all was the people counting on me whose lives were put on hold because of my vows. All my friends and family were going to be financially free forever since I was going to give them all a bundle.

    I was donating most of the loot to the Cancer Association, Brain Tumor Association and Nordstrom’s half-yearly sale.

    Okay, I am no angel. I was going to buy stuff for myself, some Armani suits, a few Donna Karan’s and a Mac, the computer, not that guy Mac, since that would be illegal. I was going to trade my l5 year old sports car for a newer one. See, I had daydreams too.
     I thought I was so realistic and beyond those types of reveries but I guess the truth is; I am easy. 1708 promises and I am ready to submit. Hear that fellas!

    Enough is enough. I want my money now.

    I caint ba leeve ah wun! I caint ba leeve ah wun!
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