• A child of any age
• A sleeping baby
• A former Miss USA winner
• An elderly person, especially if they are in a wheelchair with a dirty diaper
• Any woman dressed like a harlot who totally deserves a pat down for wearing something like that

It is important for all of us to be extra vigilant when travelling. If you thought ahead, you will have your emergency airport kit containing a whistle, a candy bar (for diabetic terrorists), and three sets of handcuffs- infant size, adult size, and ginormous. If you see someone who might be wearing a diaper, go up to them and place your hand on their buttocks. If the diaper feels warm, then blow your personal emergency whistle and shout, “I know you have a dirty bomb.” Only a true terrorist will protest.

All of us here at TSA want to make your flying experience as safe and humiliating as possible. So remember, report any suspicious individual…unless they are morbidly obese. We don’t like patting them down, and chances are they will be thrown off the plane before it ever takes off. Now get out there and fly.

Article by Lori Wescott

Social networks and online dating. By James R. Begley

It wasn’t until about three months ago that I finally followed the herd and put together a ‘Facebook’ page. ‘Facebook’ was suggested to me by my publisher as a way to increase visibility as well as reach friends that may live in other markets. I accepted his advice and went about constructing my page so I could start putting myself out there so to speak. I have to note however that I have never “really” been one those social network guys, I tend to prefer doing most of my networking in person.

About 3 years ago I did develop a ‘Myspace’ page in an attempt to find gainful employment as a musician but I never caught the bug for extended sessions on the site. My ex-girlfriend has been involved in social networking for years and as I remember it was on ‘Facebook’ long before it became the institution that it is today. She as well as friends of mine at the time tried to get me to join ‘Facebook’ back then but I just blew them off thinking that it was just silly. And before the days of ‘Twitter’ I never thought that my day was so special that I had to tell everyone what I was doing every 10 minutes.

Just recently though I have to confess that I have probably become the most obsessive ‘Facebook’ user since it was only available on the Harvard campus! I post like a madman constantly, but now I have to mention a few things that I’ve learned since becoming a “seasoned” user on ‘Facebook’. First I learned that not everybody is going to be equally as excited as you are about your post. Whether it’s a funny quote or a ‘Youtube’ video, chances are there is going to be somebody out there ready to cry at your party. The ironic twist is that these same people tearing your posts down are the same people that are supposed to be your “friends”!

Second thing that I learned is that some people “do” indeed change, and that same guy you were getting drunk with back in high school is now preaching the gospel of whatever religious viewpoint that he’s decided to follow. This became ridiculously obvious fairly soon after I started to get back in contact with people that I haven’t seen in over 20 years. As my friend list started to grow I realized that some of the people that I used to hang out with all those years ago have developed some pretty interesting standpoints. There isn’t an hour that goes by that I don’t see a post from someone that I have a distinct picture of from the past now taking such a bold stand on topics that range from religion, extreme political views, and heartbreaking tragedy involving illnesses and military action just to list a few examples.

I feel for these people and respect all their views, but there are other platforms available for these types of posts. Needless to say and this might sound horrible but I have now started lining up these “friends” that have such opposing views or can’t seem to post anything but tragic events in a sort of ‘Facebook’ firing squad, gunning down the ones who “bring me down”. I’m a very positive and upbeat guy and I think you can tell from my articles that I am not that angry dude sitting at my laptop complaining about things that I don’t like in the world. That being said, I have adopted a philosophy of just trying to throw out topics that stimulate conversation or inform readers of points of interest. I also created a ‘Twitter’ account recently as to stay abreast of current developments in the world of pop culture and entertainment. It is an incredibly useful tool for communicating with industry professionals.

What I’ve stated thus far in this piece is a great lead-in to the closing of the article. I am single and spend the majority of my time doing research and writing from home. I rarely am presented with an opportunity to get out and meet anyone to hang out with that is of the opposite sex. I can’t help but notice more and more marketing campaigns for online dating sites that promise that you will meet your soul-mate. It’s an interesting prospect indeed but does it work? I don’t know as of yet because I’m still embarrassed or have just enough insecurity to have not made what many would consider a desperate attempt to try and find love. Please don’t misinterpret this paragraph as me fishing for sympathy. In fact it’s quite the opposite. I would love to just as anyone like to find that special “someone” that seems to be your soul’s counterpoint.

The only example that I have of the online dating thing working is a friend of mine that actually met his present and only wife online. They are very happy and have a beautiful daughter together. Happy ending right, well not so fast! Like I said I have “one” example of this method of meeting people working. So if anyone out there reading has some other stories of the “fairy tale” coming true for another couple that met online please let me know. My lack of courage has prevented me from taking the leap into online dating myself.

It’s hilarious because my ‘DVR’ device from my ‘satellite TV’ provider is so full of programs and ‘movies’ that I have a really hard time following everything that’s out there, much less the shows that I actually like. With that in mind the other day I was watching old reruns of ‘The Office’ in an episode in which the cast were trapped outside. So as to pass the time, one of the characters started asking his co-workers what their top 5 desert island ‘movies’ were. The ‘films’ in which they couldn’t live without, and could never get sick of watching. I as well as some of the characters on the show were both shocked and appalled by some of the picks that were thrown out into the conversational kiddy pool.

Have you ever really thought about that question though? Or tried to narrow your choices down to just 5 ‘movies’!? For some it’s an almost unanswerable question, usually forcing most into backpedaling into the safe area of saying that they have favorite ‘movies’ in different genre’s of ‘film’. What a cop-out! LOL! Amazingly I find it rather easy to narrow my selections down, and keep in mind that I have run 2 ‘video’ stores and was also at one time the ‘video’ dept. manager of ‘Media Play’. To put it more plainly I stopped counting how many ‘movies’ that I had seen at 11,000 titles! It would seem to be a lot of wasted time huh!? Some would say “yes it is a waste of time!”  But I have always been so passionate about the creative ‘arts’ that I just can’t help myself! I love ‘movies’!

That leads me to the selections for my top 5, as well as why I chose them. I guess I’ll start from #5 and work my way down to my favorite ‘movie’ of all time! I must add though that the #1 and #2 slots on my list sometimes have a tendency to switch positions with one another. I know! How weird right!? LOL! Alright lets get to it shall we? At #5 my pick is the Alex Proyas film from 1998 ‘Dark City’ starring Rufus Sewell, Jennifer Connelly, Kiefer Sutherland, and William Hurt. Excellent cast, even better concept. This is one of those ‘films’ that is super interesting all the way through until you reach the end. Then it gets 1000 times better! The first time I saw the last 10 minutes of this ‘movie’ I flipped out because I had no idea that what was “really” going on is what was going on! I can’t say enough good things about this ‘movie’ and I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn’t seen it, because it is very original.

My #4 pick has got to be my favorite ‘comedy’ of all time. The 1980 Harold Ramis side splitter ‘Caddyshack’. This ‘movie’s’ cast alone delivered some of the funniest performances ever caught on camera! Chevy Chase, Bill Murray, Rodney Dangerfield, and Ted Knight had me laughing so hard that I thought I was going to pee myself! Especially Rodney, who had arguably some of the best lines in the ‘movie’! And to think that all through filming Mr. Dangerfield kept consulting the production staff, thinking that he wasn’t performing well because nobody was laughing during takes! (It was his first ‘movie’ and he had come from ‘stand-up’ where you either get laughs or you die trying!). Also a key note about this movie is that it’s widely known that Bill Murray and Chevy Chase did not like each other at the time of production. Something that had to do with their ‘SNL’ days I believe.

This leads me to #3 and a foray back into the ‘science fiction’ realm. In 1982 Ridley Scott directed what is my opinion the finest ‘science fiction movie’ ever made ‘Blade Runner’. This is a ‘film’ that has so much soul that even to this day in the wake of all that is ‘computer’ generated it doesn’t look dated, and continues to age with utter grace. The set design is magnificent! The cast is terrific! And the source material from which it’s derived from is amazing. The film is based on Philip K. Dick’s story “Do androids dream of electric sheep?” Many purists would go to the mat with me over the fact that I don’t consider Stanley Kubrick’s ’2001: A Space Odyssey’ the most significant ‘sci-fi’ offering, but it doesn’t matter to me. I like what I like, and I would never expect anyone to agree with my opinion just because I think ‘Blade Runner’ is superior.

Now it’s time for the fun part! Getting down to my final 2 choices is a struggle that I’ve dealt with since the latter half of the 80′s, and like I stated before these 2 titles battle for domination over my loyalty! Now that I’m faced with having to actually write about my list, I have no choice but to place these ‘movies’ in their rightful positions. At #2 is going to have to be what I consider the perfect ‘action movie’. Brilliant direction from Steven Spielberg coupled with an incredible script based on a concept developed by George Lucas. And introduced Hollywood to one of the most memorable, as well as influential characters in ‘film’ history. The’ movie’ is ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’, and it was the first time ‘film goers’ caught a glimpse of Indiana Jones!

This ‘film’ also holds a special place in my heart because one of the ‘trailers’ that was shown in the theater when we saw ‘Raiders’ was for ‘The Empire Strikes Back’! Which we didn’t even know was being made considering we didn’t have all of the information about “every” ‘movie’s’ production like we do now. All I could do was stare at the screen with my jaw wide open! Needless to say, it made quite an impression! It wouldn’t be until 1986 that I would see the ‘film’ that takes the #1 spot on my countdown. Directed by ‘horror’ maestro John Carpenter, and utilizing practically every known trick in the ‘Special FX’ handbook. Mr. Carpenter released my all time favorite ‘movie’, that I’m not afraid to admit that I’ve seen 147 times! ‘Big Trouble in Little China’!

I think this ‘movie’ is so great because it contains elements of almost every known genre of ‘film’. It has ‘action’, ‘comedy’, ‘romance’, ‘martial arts’, ‘guns’, ‘monsters’, ‘magic’, ‘spiritualism’, ‘horror’, and even a hot car or two, as well as a big truck! My point being is that one of my main philosophies when viewing ‘movies’ is that I look for what I believe is the most important aspect of ‘film making’ and that’s entertainment value. I think ‘movies’ were mainly conceived as ‘escapism’ fun. And that other genres of ‘film’ evolved out of that initial plan. If I’m not totally mistaken I think one of the first ‘silent films’ depicted a trip to the moon in a rocket ship! That’s hardly what I would consider dramatic entertainment.

The thing is that I would like to think that this is why movies were created in the first place. So we didn’t have to go to the theater and watch things that we could see in our everyday lives. Personally if I want to watch ‘dramatic’ material or “based on a true story” types of ‘movies’, than I would just as soon watch a ‘documentary’ on the same or a similar topic. (They are far more accurate, as well as informative.). Please don’t get me wrong! I love ALL ‘movies’! It doesn’t matter what kind. But if you’re going to give me a choice between ‘The Piano’ and ‘Star Wars’ I’m going to choose the latter every time! Why do think ‘The Wizard of Oz’ is still so popular to this day!? I think that ‘Big Trouble in Little China’ was made with the same philosophy in mind, and that is why it’s my #1 desert island ‘film’. So what’s on your list!? Write me and let me know! I’m super interested in seeing some of your picks! Pretty interesting topic isn’t it?

Just recently I had a friend of mine ask me if I could do a favor for a family member of his who owns a courier business delivering the newspaper locally where I live. I have a fairly open schedule usually so I decided I would do my best to try and help this person out of a jam. It seems the woman who owns the delivery business found herself extremely short staffed and needed some extra help picking up the routes that had unexpectedly opened up due to employees forfeiting their duties.

Let’s just say that had I known what I was in for with what transpired over the next nine days, I would have never agreed to help out! The reality of what I believed to be a seemingly unimposing task quickly turned into what I now consider to be an absolute nightmare! I think I should probably explain the process from the beginning so you can get an idea of just how nerve-racking an experience this job really is. After speaking with the business owner, from which she gave me an extremely vague overview of the job, I then told her that I would be where I needed to be so as I could get started.

Having some already preconceived notions as what to expect, I with my trusty ‘G.P.S.’ unit thought that this was going to be a walk in the park! Ha! I could not have been more wrong! Upon my arrival to the “hub” where all of the papers are delivered to prior to being prepared for delivery, I was soon greeted with my first dose of reality when I figured out that I was also going to have to roll and bag every paper that I was required to deliver. (Average for papers delivered on my route each night was 200-250) seeing as though it was my first time performing this duty I found out rapidly that I was no good at it! LOL!

I’m one of those guys who believes that he can pick up on things pretty fast and then just cruise to the finish line, but with this particular job I just couldn’t seem to find my groove. I became frustrated and started making even more mistakes while I watched everyone around me bag up what felt like ten papers to my one! Then it hit me! Now I was going to have to actually drive all of these papers to all of these residences and I started to kind of freak out a little!

My first night was a ride-along with the girl for which I would be filling in for. She was cool and patient which helped out a lot. I have a tendency to talk way too much when I’m either nervous or excited about something, so needless to say I didn’t pay very close attention to exactly where we were when we dropped off each paper. I tried my best to keep with each location by making notations and what not, but it was four o’clock in the morning and it was pitch black in some off the neighborhoods. Throw in the fact that not everybody has there number for their address displayed on their house and I knew I was in for one of the worst times of my life in the next nine days that followed.

Never having an opportunity to use my ‘G.P.S’ unit to track the area we were in made me even more hesitant about the upcoming obligation. What did happen over those next days was in my opinion one of the poorest decisions that I have ever made when it came any type of employment. (I should note however that one comforting thought that I carried with me throughout this endeavor was that I didn’t “need” to work there, and that I was just doing this as a favor for a friend that has been very good to me in the past. But at the same time I didn’t want to do a bad job either because I didn’t want anything negative to reflect on my friend.)

To make a long story short the main priority of the paper delivery gig is that all of the papers “have” to be delivered by a specific time or the business is forced to refund money due to the fact that subscribers pay for a service that guarantees a specific delivery time. Well guess what? I never made the deadline, and I got my butt chewed out at the end of every shift that I worked! After a night filled with squinting trying to see what street I was on, whether I could see a house number or if it was on the right or left side of the street, the last thing I wanted to hear was someone screaming at me, and trying to make me feel like I was an idiot!

Some customers wanted their papers left in specific spots which meant that you had to get out of your car to walk up to the house and set it on a chair or on mailbox hooks. You don’t realize how much time you lose when you have to reference a list and then check it off to track your progress while driving in unfamiliar territory. I had a lot of trouble with the fact that I just wasn’t accustomed to the area my delivery route was placed in. I’m sure that with time this would have become like second nature but I never reached that point.

It became very evident after about three days of this that I wasn’t suited for this job, and I started to regret my decision to help out my buddy! Night after night I would creep through these neighborhoods looking for these houses with my bright headlights blaring and every dome-light in my car on, as well as my hazards blinking. To any passerby I probably looked as if I were completely insane, always looking down at my list crawling like a snail through some subdivision every once in a while tossing a paper out of my sunroof! LOL!

I think that in nine days of service I put nine years of wear on my transmission by always having to throw my car into park or reverse! This also started to become a concern for me because I started to worry about whether or not I was tearing my car up. I started to hate this job after the first night I was on my own, but I stuck with it until it started to become a monkey wrench in the gears of my already pre-existing life. I keep odd hours anyway and at first didn’t see it as being that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things seeing as though I’m usually up writing between the hours of now and quarter to never!

I was wrong and it started to affect my work as well my relationship with the woman that I was dating. So when it came to the point to which the woman who runs the business started to react irrationally towards the fact that I wasn’t the greatest paperboy in the world (between us I think I can live with myself! Ha-ha!) I was not heartbroken when she told me to not come back to work the next night following a horrible night of throwing papers. I thanked her for the opportunity to help. I apologized for my performance, and told her that I would contact her about being paid for the days that I did work. I then drove to my girlfriend’s house straight from there and was told by her that she didn’t want to tell me that she wished earlier that day that I wouldn’t do the paper gig anymore! I think that is hilarious, especially after I told her that I wished for the same thing!

I personally would not recommend this line of work to anyone. Not just because it’s a seven days a week job, but that you’ll most likely cut the life of your vehicle in half. But you might also either ruin a relationship with someone because of the scheduling or become a vampire which comes with a whole different set of challenges! LOL! I’m Mr. Positive and I got nothing but a negative vibe from the entire operation from the bottom to the top. Way too stressful for me! Like I said in the title, I think I’ll stick to playing ‘Paperboy’ the video game. At least I can just turn that off if I get mad!

It was only a few months back that I finally got a top quality ‘smartphone’ and let me tell you, learning how to navigate my new phone’s user interface by using nothing but a touch screen really put me through my paces. Hilariously enough I functioned for years with a simple bare bones ‘cellphone’ that had no video capabilities or any other features that would place it in the category of ‘smartphones’. My phones always never had more than a grammar school education.

I was extremely accustomed to doing all of my ‘cellphone’ duties with either the face of the phone’s keypad or a flip-out keyboard. So once I was faced with the task of performing everything required on a touch screen I soon found out that I was awful at it! It took me forever just to type a forty character text message and I started to not only get frustrated by my lack of expediency. But I was also starting to wish that I had purchased a model that had a keyboard option.

The phone that I settled on is an ‘Android’ based model that is made by LG. After a little time spent on trying to get a hang of the functionality of my new toy, I took my first trip to the ‘Android’ marketplace where thousands of applications are available at your disposal. Anything that you can think of, they most likely have an ‘app’ for it! You name it! Full sites like ‘Facebook’, ‘Twitter’, and ‘Youtube’, to personalization tools such as ‘wallpapers’, ‘ring tones’, and ‘horoscopes’. Me personally am “super geek supreme” so I went straight for the ‘games’ list!

I have a tendency to overdo things that I’m excited about so I downloaded like thirty ‘games’ just to get myself started! I had all seven panels on my phones palm sized desktop full of icons for all of the ‘games’ that I had downloaded, it was ridiculous! LOL! Strangely though I rapidly started to realize that my skills when pertaining to my phone’s operation were starting to get “really” sharp and accurate! What was it? Were the ‘games’ that I had been wasting so much time on teaching me how to use my phone better!?

In its purest form I conclude that the answer is yes, the games did train my finger placement and performance capabilities by using very basic principles mixed with interactive graphical presentations disguised as games that made the “training” for lack of a better term seem fun! A game like ‘Traffic Control’ is sweet for pulling and dragging icons. Whereas a game like ‘Fruit Slice’ will help with accuracy in navigating icons. The only thing I can say about ‘Angry Birds’ is that it’s like crack that you only have to buy once, it’s so addictive! I don’t believe that game taught me anything about how to use my phone, but it sure is a great time killer!

Once I conquered selections such as ‘Jewels’ and ‘Bubble Blast’ I quickly became an absolute ‘Jedi’ master of anything ‘smartphone’ oriented! The transformation from not being able to hardly type on the touch screen soon became a stealth mission of ninja like precision, and I haven’t looked back since. In all fairness I have scaled the games on my phone down to one, but I have to give credit where credit is due. I honestly believe that something as absurd as a video game enabled me to become more efficient on my ‘smartphone’! Nice! I support it!

My friend Jeff just emailed me a message telling me how upset he was that he was going to have to buy ‘The Lord Of The Rings’ trilogy yet again, so that he could have the “definitive” versions of the films. He went on and on to say that the new versions “really” didn’t offer anything different than what he had already previously bought in the past. I have to be perfectly honest with all of you in the fact that I too am guilty of this, and I have the same dislike for studios milking every last penny that they can out of a franchise.

I am what many might refer to as an “early” adopter of technology, especially when it comes to ‘movies’ and home theater viewing in particular. I’m the dude that had 600 ‘LaserDiscs’ before I was dragged kicking and screaming into the ‘DVD’ market. I gradually weaned myself off of ‘LaserDisc’ and fully committed to the ‘DVD’ format. I can’t lie and say that I wasn’t upset by the fact that I was going to have to buy all of the ‘movies’ that I had on ‘LaserDisc’ all over again to have the best quality versions of the films. (I must note that some ‘LaserDisc’ titles were in upwards of $100, and averaged about $35).

As with all cool things after a while something cooler comes along and improves on an already awesome idea. Now that we have ‘Blu-Ray’ discs and ‘3D HDTV’, it seems that I’m back in the same boat, being forced to yet again replace all of my ‘DVD’s'  with the better ‘hi-def’ versions of the ‘movies’ that I already own. Luckily for me I was a musician for years and I’ve sold everything that I’ve owned 7 times over to survive! LOL! I totally understand why Jeff is upset by this, and recently I have adopted a philosophy of waiting until an “unrated” or “director’s” cut of a film is released for sale.

I have to confess however that I have bought close to 6 different versions of ‘Blade Runner’ until they finally released the “final cut” ‘Blu-Ray’ set not too long ago. Another great point to make is that some types of ‘movies’ are edited to achieve a lower rating to attract wider audiences when released theatrically. ‘Horror’ and ‘action’ films can in many cases have more intense footage removed so when shown in theaters more people can buy tickets. So really we all might be better off waiting until the studios make up their minds as to what will be the “definitive” version of their ‘movies’.

Siobhan remembers facing a great deal of adversity while growing up.  She was considered the weird kid at school, and was the subject of bullying, even being spat on at times.  These hard times were what gave Siobhan the inspiration to write “Beatrice Dream.”

Her creativity started early on.  As a child she was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, and she responded with a different career for every day of the week.  “I knew I didn’t want to be just one thing,” she states. Indeed, her creativity has served her well as she incorporates theatrics and cinema makeup into her acts.  “I’m not just a singer,” she states. “I’m a performer, so I’m constantly thinking about how things sound and look.”

The album in its entirety, which Siobhan describes as experimental metal post-grunge jazz, is scheduled to be ready for release October 2011. “I think it will be an interesting insight into my world because people who know me from American Idol have only heard me sing other people’s songs. It’s exciting for me to write my own lyrics and help people understand a little more about me, as a person.”

Although Siobhan is grateful for the American Idol experience, she isn’t without criticism of the show.  During the 2010 season the judges frequently critiqued her taste in clothing, rather than her vocal performance.  Eventually, her choice of outfit and hairstyle would have to be approved by the producers before she could perform.  She often wanted to say to the producers, “Do what you said you were going to do, which is find the best singer. If you’re really looking for the best singer, then you shouldn’t give a damn about my sneakers.”

Despite what her critics might say, Siobhan is not all dark and edgy.  She indeed showed off her fun side when asked the question, “If American Idol came out with a beer, which would you prefer? The Ruben Studdard- dark and full bodied, the Clay Aiken- sweet and fruity, or the Jordin Sparks- light and fresh.  After a good laugh she decided to go with Clay Aiken, and she was a really good sport considering her dislike for beer altogether.

Her life has changed quite a bit since her debut on reality television, and she stays quite busy these days.  Most of her time is spent in Cape Cod, where she resides, as she juggles solo work with performing with her band, Lunar Valve.  Her manager is around to keep her abreast of what’s coming up in her schedule, but despite all of the stardom and the hectic schedule, Siobhan has managed to stay very grounded. She even makes time to help rescue and foster animals. She says, “There’s nothing quite as fulfilling as helping a helpless little kitten.”  It’s safe to say that her passion for self-expression, in addition to her natural ability as a performer, will serve her well.  Look out, world. Siobhan Magnus has arrived.

Article by Lori Wescott.

As luck would have it, my son Luke (2.5 years) was absent, and in his place was his alter ego, Damien. I did NOT let this spoil my perfect week, but it did make things a little challenging. His latest vice is back talking, and like his dear, sweet mother he doesn’t do anything halfway. There were no four-letter words spoken, but his favorite thing to say was, “Mom, hush up! You unda-stand me?”

My husband and I considered, and applied, all forms of discipline to include time outs, taking away toys, and my least favorite- spanking.  After about a full week of trial and error, he finally responded positively to, of all things, a stern talking. Who’d a thunk it? This wasn’t discovered, however, until everyone in Destin, FL had received a, “Hush up! Wight now. Unda-stand me,” including the waitress at Crab Trap. In Luke’s defense, she totally had it coming. After waiting fifteen minutes to show up at our table, we didn’t need to hear her talk about the daily specials.

As it would turn out, the advice my Mom gave us at the beginning of the week was right on. I hate when that happens. “He’s just trying to get your attention,” she said. “Preposterous,” I thought. “He always has our attention.” If only my Mom and I had been talking about the same type of attention, then my husband and I wouldn’t have sat on the beach and cried after deciding that Luke must have Tourette’s syndrome. “Why else could he NOT stop saying, “hush up?’” we thought.

So after a week in the sun my brain was finally willing to accept the advice my Mom had oh, so quietly mentioned seven days earlier. Sometimes, the attention they need is more than eye contact and a reprimand. I now know that a well-timed hug, kiss, and tickle fight can prevent a lot of unwanted behavior. So far, this is working for us. When Damien pops back up, and believe me he does, we address it and move on.

So to summarize, I learned on vacation how to be a better parent, that my Mom is always right (spoken under my breath), and that seagulls LOVE popcorn.

Article by Lori Wescott, www.Loripalooza.com

I almost died when I heard, “Lori from Nolensville, you’re on the air with Three Hour Lunch.”  I tried to keep it short and sweet while sticking to the facts.  “Hey guys, I love your show.  I wanted to tell you that the worst Valentine’s Day gift I ever received was a hair dryer from my husband.”  The collective group broke into laughter and one of the hosts asked why my husband would’ve gotten me such a thing.  I went on to explain that he was a pharmacist when one of the fellas interrupted with, “No, he DID NOT just pick something off the shelf at Walgreen’s while he was at work?”

I came to the end of my story and was quite certain I would soon be cut off, but I wasn’t quite finished.  I can’t recall my exact words, but it went something like this.  “Guys, if I may, I’d like to send him a Valentine over the airways while he listens on his way to work. Hey honey, SUCK IT!”  My comments were again met with laughter, and as I guessed I was promptly cut off.  I waited about ten seconds and then called my husband, Brantley.  I could tell by his voice that he was a little apprehensive, but he laughed it off.  However, as the day passed, he had more time to think it over, and I guess it hurt his ego a bit.  I began feeling a little coldness in his text messages.  I asked if he was angry and he responded with, “No more radio calls for you.”  I couldn’t believe it.  It was my first radio call ever, and I had rocked it.  He couldn’t make me hide my light under a bushel.  Or could he?

I started feeling guilty, but why?  It’s not like public ridicule is new to our relationship.  It may be a first for the radio, but I’ve been making fun of him twice a week for three years on the web, and he has (almost) always approved.  Not to mention, playful teasing is how I show my affection.  I’m like the eight-year-old boy who runs up and punches you in the stomach on the playground to tell you that he’s interested.

Regardless of my explanations and excuses, I was in the doghouse.  I can honestly say that I haven’t spent a lot of time there during our relationship so that either means I’m really awesome, or my husband is really forgiving.  Assuming that the latter is most likely true, I decided to make some changes.  So, from now on, I am going to make a concerted effort to stay out of his sacred, sports radio territory, and if that includes Three Hour Lunch, then so be it.  (Single tear rolls down my cheek.)  I will also try to mature in my displays of affection to that of at least a fifth grade level, and to prove that, I have one question for my dear, sweet husband.  Will you go with me?  Check yes or no.

(Blaine, Clay, Brent: I didn’t mean a word of that. Talk to you soon.)

Article by Trophy Wife and Humorist, Lori Wescott, www.Loripalooza.com

Keep in mind this day is about being a giver, and not a taker. So I say to you fellas, let her watch what she wants on TV for a while.  This includes, dare I say, anything on the Hallmark channel or the Lifetime Movie Network.  Worse things have happened than you having to see three movies in a row starring Tori Spelling.  If you have to, just pretend Tori has her clothes off.  Another option is to bring back the manners you exercised when you were dating.  Brantley has never been so attractive as he was yesterday when he said, “You have ten seconds to vacate the room before I fart.”  I truly felt like a princess.  To take it one step further, you could close your mouth while chewing (this especially goes for you mouth breathers), and for the love of God, use the can of air freshener that sits on the back of the commode. It’s not just for looks.

Ladies, try to keep in mind that Valentine’s Day is NOT all about you.  It’s just as important to give your fella that special attention he so deserves.  Consider trading him one hour of uninterrupted silence while he watches Nova, for a 15-minute back rub.  I would discourage you from asking for a one-hour back rub because you know he’s going to get bored and lose interest after about fifteen minutes.

Keep in mind the importance of setting time aside for each other.  Everyone makes time for work, TV, and kids so why not schedule some one-on-one leisure time.  Take a walk through the park together, but keep it simple.  No one wants to see you making out in public any day of the year.  In fact, your PDA could cause the joggers to dehydrate from vomiting which makes this a public health concern.  You may hold hands at the most.  Also avoid saying things like, “Yeah, I’ll go to the park with you, but I don’t want to hear you complaining about your damn allergies tonight.”  That could really take the spontaneity out of the event.

Now, let’s move on to a more sensitive subject- the bedroom.  Nothing could be worse than falling into a same ol’, same ol’ routine.  So, instead veer away from the humdrum and try something new.  Now fellas, if you’re thinking that life in the sack is fine and, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.  Trust me when I say you’re good, but you’re not THAT good.  There’s always room for improvement.  Role-playing is a great way to add some excitement to the mundane.  Whether you’re reenacting a scene from When Harry Met Sally or Alien vs. Predator, you’re effort won’t go unnoticed.  If I can speak candidly, nothing gets my goat like Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids.  I am putty in his hands for a good Mushmouth impression.

It’s also important to remember that men and women want different things.  For some women, the before and after is just as important as the middle.  All cutleries were NOT created equally, so it’s just as important to spoon as it is to fork.  Cuddle time is generally high on a lady’s agenda.

I think I’ve given you some valuable tools to put some much needed spice back into your as-good-as-dead, just-goin’-through-the-motions relationships.  Now get out there and love each other.  Just don’t do it in public.

Article by Lori Wescott, www.Loripalooza.com

For the patrons who arrived to the show early, there was a pre-show on the circus floor.  It was a chance to see the dancers, acrobats and elephants up close.  Luke LOVED it.  At two and a half years old, I wondered if it would be too much for him, or if he would be afraid of the clowns.  My wonder ceased with the start of the first act.  There wasn’t a clown in sight during the pre-show.  He loved watching the acrobats fly through the air, and when that was over, they invited all of the kids into the ring for a dance party.  They had barely gotten the words “dance party” out before Luke had dived over the barrier and ran to the front.  Rather than standing with the other kids, Luke went to the front and stood next to the instructor while he shook his groove thang.  This was the highlight of the circus for me.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  I won’t rest until that boy can pop and lock.  

Of course for the real show, there were lots of animals- tigers, elephants, llamas, donkeys, a dog that rode a horse, and of course camel toes on each of the acrobats.  They debuted motor cycles in a cage, clowns, a strong man, and a midget named Nano.  All in all, it was very entertaining, and had Luke not tuckered out, we would’ve stayed for the whole show.  The elephant excrement I had expected to smell was nowhere to be found.  Thanks to whoever cleans up that mess, because they did a really good job.  I was also pleasantly surprised that no one’s epilepsy seemed to be effected by the flashing lights.  My only disappointment was not getting to see the midget stick his head in a tiger’s mouth.  I was really hoping for that.  Damn you, OSHA.

Article by Lori Wescott, Humorist, www.Loripalooza.com

As we rode a short distance from his preschool to our house I asked my usual questions.  “How was your day, sweetie?  I heard you learned about Martin Luther King.  Can you tell me what he did?”  He pulled his sippy cup out of his mouth briefly and responded with, “March, march, march!”  I could tell he felt proud of himself, and I shared his feeling.  “He sure did.  He wanted all the boys and girls to love each other.  What else did he do besides march?”

Luke thought hard.  “He colored with a green craynon,” he answered.  I suspected that he had now moved on to talking about himself, but was still very impressed at what he had learned about Dr. King.  “What else did you do today?”  I asked.

He sighed, “Well,” then paused briefly.  I knew this wasn’t going to be good, but really, he’s two and a half years old.  How bad could his day have been?  He finally continued.  “I push-ded Jack. I was fightin’.”

“Lucas Payne Wescott!  Why did you push Jack?  Why were you fighting?”

“Well, he took my craynons, so I push-ded him.”

I was shocked and, well, shocked some more.  It was bad enough that he had obviously not comprehended the lecture on Dr. King, but to make matters worse, Jack is a minority.  “Oh, Luke, your Daddy and I have been over this with you before.  It’s never ok to push or hit someone.  Jack is your friend.  What do you think Martin Luther King would’ve thought about that?”

He tapped his forehead while he thought.  “March, march, march,” he said with a smile.

“What do you think you should do next time you see Jack?”

“I say, sah-wee,” he replied with his head hung low.  “That’s better.” I told him.

My husband and I have made it our life’s ambition to raise an open-minded, compassionate and peaceful human being.  I couldn’t have my son wrecking that so early in the game.  I was glad, however, that he was remorseful.  He appeared genuinely sorry.  By this time, we had arrived home and before I shut off the car, I turned to look at Luke.  He raised his head, and with tears in his eyes, he began to speak.

“I goin’ to hold hands with Jack when I see him.”

“Ok, good,” I thought.  “This little parenting talk had actually worked.  I am a parenting rock star.”

“I goin’ to hug Jack,” he went on.  “I goin’ to give him kisses, too.”

“Ok, I think you’ve gotten the point, honey.  There’s really no need to be kissing people at school.”

“I “wuv” Jack!”

“Wonderful, honey, then don’t push him anymore, ok?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Just to make sure everything was all right at his school, I called his teacher and told her about Luke’s confession.  She laughed, “That didn’t happen, at all.  Not to worry, Luke and his classmates are at a developmental stage where their imaginations become more active and they will lie about the silliest things.”  I couldn’t believe my ears.  I had shared an in depth discussion with my child regarding nonviolence and turned his disagreement with a friend into what I thought had been a teachable moment.  Did any of my message sink into his little head, or had he discarded it as quickly as he fibbed his brains out?  Time will tell, I guess, but in the mean time, I think I will switch my parenting focus from nonviolence to the importance of telling the truth, AND sharing “craynons.”

Article by Lori Wescott, www.Loripalooza.com

“No,” I told my husband.  “Pooping in front of the potty does not qualify him to go to the treasure chest.”

“But he was trying.  He went into the bathroom, stood on the stool…”

“And crapped on the floor,” I interrupted.

There we were, husband and wife, in the throws of an argument over our two and a half year old son’s potty training antics.  Fundamental differences of opinion had plagued us recently when it came to Luke’s bathroom use.  Truth be told, he was doing quite well as long as he was completely without pants or a diaper.  He would go into the bathroom, get on the stool and perform a number one like a champ.  Numero dos, however, was another story.

We provided him with positive reinforcement, made him a treasure chest and a sticker chart for his successful visits to the bathroom.  Still, he didn’t seem motivated to do the part that required sitting down.  “Why should he?” I thought.  Who wouldn’t love to just go wherever they are and have someone else clean up after them and powder their behind?  Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.

But, maybe something else was slowing his progress.  Maybe I was a bad teacher.  That had to be it.  Who was I, to tell him how to use the potty when I clearly had my own hang-ups about it?   As a child (read: and adult) I had always been afraid of the dark.  One night, my older, and meaner, sister said something to me that I have never forgotten, despite how ridiculous I now know it to be.

“You should never, ever flush the toilet at night.  If you do, monsters will come out and kill you because they know your parents can’t hear your screams over the sound of the toilet.”

I was horrified, and to this day, I will not flush a toilet after dark.  My husband has come to accept it, although I now say that I don’t want the sound of the flush to wake up Luke (who sleeps on the other side of the house).   Yet, there I stood, a grown woman who saw fit to pass judgment on her kid because he missed the bowl by a couple of feet.

“Here you go, Luke.  Come pick something out of the treasure chest.”  He was delighted over his reward and I was proud of his effort.  True, it may not have been a perfect attempt, but I’m not a perfect mom.  The fact is, that potty training takes time, a lot of time.  My hope is that he can accomplish that without being scarred for life.  If that happens, then I have done my job.   My other hope is that my older sister has kids one day so I can totally mess them up.  Revenge is sweet.

But the Nauru government isn’t the only one taking a closer look at the western diet.  How to handle America’s obesity epidemic is a hotly debated topic these days with the first lady, Michelle Obama supporting government involvement in promoting healthy eating habits, and Republicans arguing that the matter should be left up to the individual’s discretion.   Regardless of your stance on the matter, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that our diet, as a whole, could benefit from some healthy changes.

The city of San Francisco has taken aim at obesity and recently passed a law that places stringent requirements on fast food meals targeted at children.  It stipulates that any variation of the Happy Meal must contain fruits and vegetables, not contain beverages with excessive sugar or fat, and not exceed 600 total calories.  However, if consumers desire, they must only travel outside the city to avoid San Francisco’s crappy meals.  This leaves tax payers asking how much good this law will actually do.

There is no doubt that changes should take place in the home, and this point couldn’t have been made clearer than what was seen in a home video taken by an Ohio mother.  The footage showed her two-year-old handling and smoking marijuana, as the mother captured it on her camera phone.  And we wonder why our kids are obese.  There is little doubt that the munchies this toddler encountered after said pot smoking contained a high amount of fat and carbohydrates.  Rarely does one turn to broccoli and carrot sticks after such an event.  And, sharing is NOT in a two year old’s vocabulary so you could forget about puff, puff, give, but I digress.

With movies like, Super Size Me, detailing the health problems encountered from eating at McDonalds, and morgues calling for changes to their facilities to allow for obese corpses (you apparently need a hotter fire to cremate the large boned), it’s only a matter of time before stricter laws are put into place.   Whether or not these laws will actually help battle obesity is the question.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.  All of this typing has made me hungry.

Article by Lori Wescott,  www.Loripalooza.com

F.M. Knowles said, “He who breaks a resolution is a weakling; 
He who makes one is a fool.” Setting a daunting and unrealistic goal will only serve as a reminder of what a loser you are. So, instead of resolving to lose fifty pounds and stop drinking in 2011, try setting an easily attainable, or vague goal.  If you aspire to wake up before noon most of the time, work ~40 hours a week, or change your underwear daily, you will find a feeling of accomplishment when you achieve, and even surpass your goal.  Before long you will be drunk, overweight, and unsuccessful, but with a confidence level usually reserved for the captain of the football team.  My point is, if we strive for mediocrity, we can all be winners.

This year I resolved to accept the things I could not change, rite bettur, and stay foxy.  I accomplished all three January 1^st, 2010.  Take that, world!  But, what if I had failed?  True, I wouldn’t have had that “king of the world” feeling for the remaining 364 ¼ days of the year, but I wouldn’t have let my failures define me or dictate whether I had a good 2010.

I’ve yet to determine my New Year’s Resolution for 2011, but rest assured they will rival last year’s in quality and importance.  Hopefully, I will achieve them by next December, but if I don’t, that’s ok too.  My only plans are to be a little older, a little braver, a little happier, and still none the wiser.

Article by Lori Wescott, www.Loripalooza.com

“You take up too much room. I want my own space.”  It should be known that our master bathroom houses a double sink with a large vanity and from time to time, my things may slightly, sort of, encroach onto his side of the counter. So what? It’s part of being married.

“This is absolutely unacceptable,” I told him. “We’re approaching our seven year itch. You can’t bathroom divorce me. I’m already under a time crunch to decide whether or not we’re compatible.  How can I do that if we aren’t even using the same bathroom?”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a very big deal! Today you stop sharing a bathroom with me, and the next thing you know you’re clad in a tight Ed Hardy t-shirt and neglecting your eight kids. I will not be your Kate Gosselin!”

“Stop being dramatic. You’re just mad because you won’t be able to use my razor and mooch my shave gel.”

I was busted. He was right. No one replenishes toiletries the way that man does. He’s a fiend when it comes to bathroom stock. By the time the bar of soap gets a little too small to handle, it’s whisked away and magically replaced by a shiny new one. He has a constant bathroom inventory going and I wasn’t ready to take on that kind of responsibility.  So, I tried the guilt route.  “I really miss you. It’s just not the same. I feel like we don’t see each other as much. It’s like we’re out of sync.”

He didn’t buy it.  “When we shared a bathroom I would go in and close the door, come out about ten minutes later and you would gripe at me for not striking a match. Do you miss that?”  I thought hard. “Umm, yes,” I replied.

“Too bad.”

I could tell he was enjoying this. It was time to give in and stroke the ego.  “Ok, yes.  I miss your bathroom management. Without you my bathroom has no system. My biggest fear is that, without your leadership, it will fall.”

He gloated and agreed to return under the condition that I move all of his stuff back into our bathroom, and I obliged.  I realize that I reduced myself to shameful groveling, a condition I abhor, but I knew I had ultimately won the war. This was certain the next morning when, upon entering the shower, I discovered shampoo on the left, conditioner on the right, clean towels on the rack and a brand new bar of soap.  I was so gleeful that upon exiting the shower I almost forgot to passive aggressively leave everything in disarray. With the soap on the floor, the conditioner on the left and shave gel squirted on the glass, the world was as it should be. Finally, things were back to normal.

Article By: Lori Wescott: Tennessee’s Humorist | Loripalooza.com

You go about your happy life while enjoying almost every moment.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing, your lip gloss is popping, and your hair has just the right amount of volume.  And, that’s when it happens.  Out of nowhere you are blindsided by a rude individual and their prying, need-to-know information.  You might encounter this person at work, at church, at the family Christmas gathering or even in the checkout line at Wal-Mart.  Wherever it goes down, the end result is always the same.  They ask a nosy, inappropriate question, and because you are caught off guard you give them a polite and honest answer.  What, I ask you, gives an outsider the right to stomp over and upset your good hair day?  Well, I say no more!  No longer do we quench their thirst for answers.  No longer do we sit idly by and politely give them what they want. 

The first step in dealing with this problem is to know how to recognize an inappropriate question when you hear one.  Generally speaking, if the question involves your genitals, your religion or your finances, it’s a no-no unless you know the askee really, really well.  Here are a few questions that should never be asked.  Take a moment to notice how they evolve over time. 

“Why are you still single?”

“Are you pregnant?”

“When are y’all going to have kids?”

“When are you going to have another kid?”

“Is he circumcised?”

“How many of those things are you planning to pop out?”

“You mean you delivered all of those kids vaginally? Sheesh.”

You may think that by answering the question you will be satisfying their quest for knowledge and that they will go away, never to return.  In fact, the exact opposite is true.  Answering the question only enables them to continue their rude behavior.  It isn’t enough that you got married in a real church and by a real minister.  They aren’t interested in that anymore.  They want to know when you are going to make a baby.  And, after the baby is born they will ask how you could be so careless, as to not breast feed your child. 

Do yourself a favor and stop them in their tracks before it gets to this point.  It will take some courage and require you to possibly step outside of your comfort zone, but you can do it.  The best way to handle a situation like this is to answer their question with a snarky one of your own.  For instance, you have just been asked why you and your spouse don’t want to have kids. Instead of going with a thoughtful and honest answer they don’t deserve, you say, “What if we had one as ugly as yours? We wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt.”  Yes, it’s mean, and yes, it’s probably true, but you have just curtailed their unwanted questioning for the remainder of your relationship.  It’s worth it. 

Let’s try another one.  Suppose a man approaches you.  Maybe you know this fellow, or maybe you don’t.  It doesn’t matter.  After a quick glance he opens the conversation with, “Are you pregnant?”  Instead of saying, “No,” and running to the bathroom to purge, you whisper, “Yes, I am, and I think you’re the father.”  He won’t be bothering you again.  This works especially well on relatives.

You’re almost ready to face the world with your new skills, but there is one other commonly asked question that needs to be discussed.  This is the, “When are you going to have a baby?” question.  This is an awful question for several reasons.  First, the simple act of asking the question implies that the person you’re speaking to wants to have a child.  This isn’t always the case.  Plenty of people chose not to have kids, and that’s totally ok, but try saying that to the wrong person and you might as well have said that you hate babies.  Secondly, having a baby isn’t as easy for some as it is for others.  There are millions of people who struggle with infertility, and bringing up the subject in a nonchalant fashion can be very upsetting.  However, the third and most important reason this should never be asked is because if they don’t already know the answer, then it’s probably none of their business, and there’s nothing wrong with telling them that.  However, if you wish to go the snarky route, tell them it will hopefully be in nine months because you and your partner just made sweet, sweet love in their bathroom.  Feel free to be as detailed as you like. 

At the risk of preaching to the choir, I will only ask that you think about the consequences of your words.  Words can be powerful and in the wrong hands, they can cut like a knife.  If, and when, you find yourself on the receiving end of this knife, I hope you will have the tools to dodge a blow and then turn and walk away, then turn back around at the last minute and sucker punch that loser. 

Article By: Lori Wescott: Tennessee’s Humorist | Loripalooza.com

I have fond memories of going to pick out a Christmas tree as a child. My parents, my two sisters and I would load up in our hatchback and head out to what seemed like the wilderness. Most people bought their Christmas trees from a vendor in the Kroger parking lot or went to a tree farm, but not us. Years later I would realize that we had actually been tree thieving trespassers on some strangers land, but what the hay. It was quality time together and that’s what mattered.

One year in particular, we found the most perfect tree. It was just right in size and shape. My Dad cut it down and strapped it to the top of our car and the five of us loaded back in. We were on our way home when my dad slowed down and pointed to a different tree on the side of the road. “I think that one might be better than the one we just picked, but I’m not sure if it’s big enough. Lori, would you go stand next to it so we can see how big it is by comparison?”

“Sure, Daddy.” My sisters and I had been singing Christmas carols in the backseat but I was happy to stop singing and oblige my father. I even felt special that he had asked me, rather than my older sister. I jumped out of the car and ran across the dirt road. When I located the particular tree I turned around to face the car. At that moment I knew I had been set up. My entire family waved out the window at me and I could hear them laughing as my dad sped away.

I was eight years old and all alone, standing next to someone else’s tree, on someone else’s property like a big jackass. It doesn’t get much worse than that. Down the road I saw my dad put the car in reverse to come back and get me. I considered not getting back in, but I didn’t have a lot of options. My family had a good laugh at my expense. “You should’ve seen your face,” and “That was so funny!” was heard a few times.

“Yeah”, I thought. “Real funny. I wish the police had driven by. I would’ve told them what happened and my parents would’ve been in big trouble”. I made the ride home as unpleasant as possible for everyone by singing Christmas carols non-stop at the top of my lungs. An hour and twenty minutes later we arrived home and they all clamored out of the car. It may not have been abandonment on a deserted road, but I had gotten under their skin and I took solace in that. My real revenge would have to wait, though. I knew there was a jolly fat man watching and I needed to act the part.

Flash forward about twenty years to a slight fear of abandonment. I can’t imagine why.

Happy holidays from my dysfunctional family to yours!

Article By: Lori Wescott: Tennessee’s Humorist | Loripalooza.com

By March my son, Luke, was 9 months old.  He had just started getting up on all fours and rocking back and forth.  “Soon he’d be crawling,” I thought.  One morning he and I were in the laundry room.  I was emptying the dryer and folding clothes while he played in the floor next to me.  He began fidgeting with the ironing board that was against the wall.  Afraid he would turn it over on himself, I picked it up and wedged it between the dryer and the wall.

I turned back around and to my surprise, Luke was gone.  I panicked and ran for the door.  That’s when I saw him.  He had crawled several steps away from me and was perched on all fours at the top of the staircase.  I shouted his name as I ran towards him.  Startled, he rocked forward throwing his balance off and began to tumble.  I tried with everything I had, but ultimately failed to catch him in time.  Just beyond my reach, he hit every step on the way down.  Seventeen steps in all.  We were both hysterical but after a quickie neurological check I only found scratches and carpet burn.  Needless to say, I wasn’t going to trust my own instincts again, so I called his pediatrician and we were on our way to the hospital.

Two head CT’s and six hours later, he was cleared and discharged.  Thankful that my boy was alright, we headed home.  With a clean bill of health the worry was gone which left plenty of room for its unwelcomed  cousin, guilt.  How could I let this happen?  Why didn’t we have baby gates?  We’d been talking about putting them up for a week.  Was my husband secretly angry with me?  I was devastated with my own failure to keep my child safe.

We settled in back at home.  Luke went to bed early from being obviously worn out and my husband, Brantley, was going to be in charge of checking on him throughout the night.  Despite my utter exhaustion, I couldn’t seem to go to sleep.  So Brantley ordered me to take an Ambien and go to bed.  Take an Ambien, I did.  Go to bed, I did not.

The next morning came like any other, but a little more somber in the wake of the previous day’s accident.  A few minutes into breakfast Brantley broke the silence with, “What’s up with you being such a jerk to your sister last night?”

“What are you talking about? I asked.

“The message you sent Leigh.”  (I jumped up from the table and ran toward the office.)  “It wasn’t an email.  You sent it from your phone,” he said.

I grabbed my phone and scrolled to the sent messages.  There it was.  “Hey Leigh, thanks a lot for not caring that Luke fell down the stairs.  We were at the hospital all day because of you.  You have no idea what you’ve caused.  He could’ve died.”

“What?  There was no way I could’ve written that.  It doesn’t even make sense.” I said.  “She lives two hundred miles away.  Oh jeez, did she ever respond?” I asked him.

“No.” He said.  “You gave her about fifteen minutes to respond before you started leaving her voicemails.  It was just more of the same.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth.

“It’s a little late for that.” Brantley said.

“Why didn’t you take the phone away from me?  I was obviously in an altered state.  We’re supposed to be a team.”

“I wasn’t coming near you.  I’m not stupid. You were being crazy.  Besides what kind of team is that?  You act a fool and I try to fix it…Doesn’t sound like much of a team to me.  We don’t even have a team name.”

“I bring plenty to this team!   But you’re right about needing a name.  I’ll have to think on it.  A name like that will be pretty permanent and shouldn’t be taken lightly.  Wait!  Stop distracting me!”  I tried to refocus on my personal attributes.

“Dang it! I’m a good wife and mother.”

In light of recent events I felt guilty for calling myself a good mother until Brantley finished my sentence with,

“…who only throws her kid down the stairs once in a while.”

“Really?” I asked.  “It hasn’t even been twenty four hours and you’re already seeing fit to make it into a joke.”  He had dealt a low blow, but this argument had to wait.  I had some smoothing over to do with my sister.

Still holding the phone in my hand, I pushed send to call her.  However, I was unaware that I still had my hateful message pulled up so instead of dialing her number, the message was sent to her AGAIN.  I knew I had really screwed up.  One time was explainable, forgivable even.  Twice, on the other hand, was harder to sell as an accident.  I had some ‘splaining to do but fortunately I have an understanding baby sister.

In fact, years ago she and I were still sharing a bedroom when I was attacked in the night by a fierce band of renegade pirate midgets that only I could see.  I have no recollection of this, but she and my mother swear to it.  Thereafter, my dose of sleep medication was halved and, to my knowledge, I haven’t been attacked since.

So maybe I get hungry and eat peanut butter with my hands in the night.  And maybe I get a little mouthy after a tough traumatizing day, but it’s been over nine years since I was the victim of a midnight midget attack and I think that’s worth noting.   As for Brantley, his punishment came in the form of our team name, “Guy About to Get Kicked in the Teeth and His Smart, Funny Wife”.

Article By: Lori Wescott: Tennessee’s Humorist | Loripalooza.com

Insomnia has plagued me since childhood.  In grade school, I remember lying awake all night, only to be exhausted the following day at school.  It may have waxed and waned a bit since childhood, but suffice it to say I’m still an insomniac today.  I’ve tried many different sleep remedies, but the one I always seem to go back to is Ambien.  Before Ambien, no other sleep aid had allowed me such a peaceful and sound night sleep, or so I thought.  The following is unfortunately, a true account of one of my Ambien experiences.

At first I brushed it off, thinking to myself that I didn’t remember talking on the phone the night before.  So, why was my phone in the bed?  “Oh well.” I thought.  It was time to get ready for work.  “Wait, what is that on my teeth?”  It was pasty and tasted like peanut butter.  That’s when I saw an open jar of peanut butter sitting solely on my nightstand.  Upon inspecting it, I found the telltale imprint of finger marks where I had obviously helped myself to a couple of handfuls during the night.

I was puzzled by my peanut butter findings but didn’t have a lot of time to think about it because I had to leave for work.  I walked in the hospital feeling extra chipper and rested.  I couldn’t believe how soundly I had slept the night before.  I passed people in the hallway, even stopping to say hi to the people I didn’t like.  I had gotten a full eight hours of sleep and I felt like a new woman.

I turned the corner and saw my boss, John.  “Hello!” I said.  “It’s such a nice day outside.”  With a puzzled look he asked if I could come speak with him in his office.  “Absotootly!” I replied.  We sat down in John’s office and he remained silent for a moment.  I could tell he was trying to think of what to say.  He finally mustered, “Is there anything you want to explain to me?”

“About what?” I asked.

He then proceeded to dial his voicemail on speakerphone.  What I heard next sounded an awful lot like me.

“Hey, it’s Lori.  It’s about eleven thirty at night and I just remembered that earlier today you had a message to call the lady in accounts receivable.   I forgot to tell you about it so I figured I better call you at home.”

I was mortified.  I had absolutely no recollection of calling my boss and certainly not leaving a message.  I tried to explain but he shushed me and said, “Wait, that’s not all.  Next, is the part where you thought you hung up the phone.”

I shrunk into my seat as I listened to a loud rustling and what sounded like the phone being dropped on the floor.  My distant voice could then be heard saying, “What?  That’s weird…why am I nekked with my socks on?”

John then pressed seven to delete the message.  “It pretty much ends after that,” he said.  There was a long pause while I tried to think of something to say.  He went on, “So if you could refrain from calling my house at midnight with non-urgent work messages that would be good.”

“Yes sir, I’ll do that.  I think I’ll go ahead and delete your home number from my phone too, just in case.”

“Good idea,” he said.  “Now get to work.”

We never talked about it again.  Realizing what a great boss I had for not firing or berating me, I swore off Ambien, but it didn’t last.  I eventually needed sleep and sleep wouldn’t come.  However, I became smarter about it, only taking it AFTER I was in the bed.  It was smooth sailing for a while.  No midnight snacks or embarrassing phone calls made for at least two or three months.  The rest, my friends, is a story for next time.

Article By: Lori Wescott: Tennessee’s Humorist | Loripalooza.com