This Worm Came Straight Out Of A Horror Movie

https://youtube.com/shorts/tl74N19Xeqk?si=L4Ps6XcBeybi4fnv

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Curiosity

What are you curious about?

I am curious about people. I love to see what they do, hear what they say, and know their stories. It is fascinating to see their reactions to what’s going on. For instance, I saw two young men on a parking lot engaged in lively conversation. One was obviously trying to convince the other,”What can happen in four hours?” I would love to have seen the outcome.

Old Wives Tales and Periods

imageI knew there was some kind of big, stupid mystery even before my “sometimes” friend Margaret Green broke the news to me in the fourth grade.  My grandma had started badgering me not to go barefoot and had taken to sneaking peeks at my underwear when she was sorting laundry.

This is some interesting information and dire warnings I was given regarding health care of young ladies after the onset of puberty. My maternal grandmother hissed these warnings at me, though she was hazy on rationale  Girls should never go barefoot or get their feet wet after they go into puberty. (She made no mention of how I was to wash my feet or bathe.). I must never bathe or get my head wet or ride a horse during my period.  She offered as proof the fact that when my grandpa’s sister was only sixteen, she was riding a horse just before she got ready to take a job as a teacher in her first school.  She got caught in a rainstorm while she was having her period and was soaked to the skin.  She got galloping pneumonia and died before daybreak.  I was never sure if all these variables had to be included for the situation to be deadly.  Perhaps if she had been fifteen, walking to her job as a clerk in a store while she was having her period and broke out in chicken pox, she might have escaped with only a few scars on her face.

Also, Grandma warned me young girls shouldn’t ever go swimming.  “Never?”  I was appalled.

For some reason, going barefoot was deadly, especially if there was dew on the ground.  There was something called “dew poisoning.”  Dew poisoning “stopped” periods.  How could that be a bad thing?  I didn’t want periods anyway.  Not only that, dew poisoning caused rampant infections should it enter a tiny wound on the foot, but I don’t remember her ever harassing my brother about going barefoot.  Maybe she wasn’t looking out for him.

Then she told me of a stubborn cousin of hers who went swimming all the time.  “Even when she was expecting!  Everyone of her kids had epileptic fits!”  That didn’t concern me at all since I had no intention of doing anything to cause children, in view of my recent sex education.

Mother had her own ridiculous rules about hygiene.  Hair could only be washed once a week, and never during you period.  That was a disaster for us with our oily hair.  I’d try to slip around and wash it more often, but she watched us.  She insisted on giving us hideous home perms.  They were awful!  I was so glad when Mother had to much on her mind to to to keep up with trying to enforce all her mindless rules.

Practical Jokes and Family Laughter: My Hilarious Bucket Prank Misfires

Water head

Though I wasn’t an actual heathen, I looked like one compared to my older sister Phyllis.  In her religious fervor, she never missed a church service, sang in the choir, and volunteered for all kinds of activities. Conversely, I dreaded Sunday mornings, knowing I’d have to sit through another long service.   This rankled me, so one Sunday I decided to brighten the day by propping a bucket of water over our bedroom door, knowing Phyllis would be coming through in a minute or so. 
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I didn’t have to wait long for the dousing, but to my horror, Mother was the victim, not Phyllis!  Miraculously, as Mother stood there drenched from head to foot, it struck her as funny!  To my shock, she laughed hysterically, saving my sorry life.  Fortunately, she still had her pin-curled hair still tightly wrapped in a scarf, so her Sunday hairdo wasn’t ruined, probably the only thing that saved my life.

Being a fast learner and a really smart kid, I had to try it again since it had worked out so well.  Reasoning Phyllis would never expect an attack now, I set my bucket trick up again about twenty minutes later when she was due to come flying through to put the finishing touches on her “Glory Look!”  Holy Cow!  The door opened and I got Mother again!  This time she was all dressed, hair styled, makeup perfect, ready to walk out the door! 

I expected to die.  Thank God! Thank God! Shock got her again.  She laughed like a maniac, reprieving me.  I’d thought I might be going to Jesus then and there!

Random Act of Kindness

Daily writing prompt
Write about a random act of kindness you’ve done for someone.

I don’t like to write about this, so I’ll make it brief. I gave a coworker my coat when I learned her house had burned.

Gallery

Best of Best Afternoon Dog Funnies

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Aunt Ader’s Place Part 8

Aunt Julie was from a very proper home, though generally untroubled by the high standards set by   her mother, Mrs. Townsend.  That austere lady always wore black dresses with white collars, stockings tied in a roll at her knees, and a severe black straw or felt hat, depending on the season.  Though Aunt Julie’s housekeeping was poor to nonexistent, on the occasions Mrs. Townsend was to visit, the house was immaculate.  

It was confusing on those rare times to come in and find the kitchen sparkling,  the toilets flushed and scrubbed, and bathroom floors free of piles of dirty laundry and unlittered with used sanitary napkins.  I never understood why no one flushed the turds since the toilets worked.  I had no idea what the soiled sanitary pads played till my cousin Sue explained her older sisters had a lot of nosebleeds.  At the rate the napkins multiplied, I was amazed never to have witnessed a nosebleed.

When Granny visited, the kids wore starched and ironed clothes instead of running around near naked in their step-ins as they normally did.aunt Julie and the kids were glad to see Granny go, but my uncle said he wished she lived there to keep Aunt Julieon her toes.  Aunt Jule had fourkids.  Three of them gre up to live in squalor, while Sue’s homemaking skills were impeccable.

Clothilde: A Family Name Battle

I was almost named Clothilde. (KLO-TEEL.  It would have been a source of constant torment to be named Clothilde. (It wouldn’t have taken mean kids long to rename me Kotex.) Daddy tried to hang that horrendous name on my three sisters,too. No matter what heinous deed my mother may have committed or may commit in the future, I forgive her because she stuck up for me when it really mattered. Daddy was raised in North Louisiana during the deepest of the Depression, one of seven pitiful children always on the brink of starvation. His father either rented a farm or sharecropped when he couldn’t manage rent. He died young leaving a widow and family. Daddy didn’t speak often about his family’s situation, but occasionally slipped up and revealed the difficulties they suffered. They were a troubled family, economically and socially and moved frequently.

As an adult, Daddy patterned himself on Mr. Ward, a prosperous landlord he knew as a child. I am grateful Mr. Ward provided Daddy a good role model, except for one small problem. Mr. Ward had a lovely daughter named Clothilde. Her hideous name threatened all girl children in Daddy’s bloodline. He was set on Clothilde for Phyllis, his first born daughter. Normally, Mother acquiesced to Daddy in most things, but this time she put her foot down. No Clothilde!!!!! Daddy contented himself with naming the baby “Phyllis,” after an old girlfriend holding Clothilde in reserve for the next daughter. Three years later, I came along. “Clothilde” was the first word out of his mouth when he saw me. Thank God, Mother didn’t die in childbirth. Again, Mother stuck to her guns, so I got Linda. Daughter number three might have been his last chance. Even though Mother had had a long and difficult labor, she rose from her childbed, vanquished Clothilde, and named the baby Connie. Not expecting another opportunity, he lost hope. A little more than a year later, his fourth and last daughter joined the family. Hopefully, he asked Mother, “You wouldn’t want to name her Clothilde, would you?” Her name is Marilyn.   We thought that was the end of the story. Recently, my brother’s oldest daughter revealed the final chapter. “Mom told me something funny. When she was pregnant, Papa asked her to name me Clothilde.”

Texas Chili Cookoff

Texas Chili Contest

For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a chili cook-off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio city park. The notes are from an inexperienced chili taster named Frank, who has visited from Springfield IL.

Frank: “Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cooking contest. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judges table asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy and, besides, they told me that I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted.”

Here are the scorecards from the advent: (Frank is Judge 3)

Chili #1 Eddie’s Maniac Monster Chili

>Judge #1 — A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

>Judge #2 — Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

>Judge #3 — (Frank) What the hell is this stuff?! You could remove dried paint on my driveway. Took me two beers to put out the flames. I hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy!

Chili #2 Austin’s Afterburner Chili

>Judge #1 — Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

>Judge #2 — Exiting BBQ flavor; needs more peppers to be taken seriously.

>Judge #3 — Keep this out of reach of children. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.

Chili #3 Ronny’s Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

>Judge #1 — Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.

>Judge #2 — A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers.

>Judge #3 — Call the EPA. I’ve located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my back bone is in the front part of my chest. I’m getting pie-eyed from all the beer…

Chili #4 Dave’s Black Magic

>Judge #1 — Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

>Judge #2 — Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish, or other mild foods; not much of a chili.

>Judge #3 — I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb woman is starting to look HOT…just like this nuclear waste I’m eating! Is chili an aphrodisiac?

Chili #5 Lisa’s Legal Lip Remover

>Judge #1 — Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

>Judge #2 — Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

>Judge #3 – My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off may forehead, and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I’m burning my lips off. It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks.

Chili #6 Pam’s Very Vegetarian Variety

>Judge #1 — Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spices and peppers.

> Judge #2 — The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

> Judge #3 — My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous sulphuric flames. I pooped on myself when I farted and I’m worried it will eat through the chair! No one seems inclined to stand behind me anymore. I need to wipe my butt with a snow cone.

Chili #7 Carla’s Screaming Sensation Chili

>Judge #1 — A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

>Judge #2 — Ho-hum; tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last minute. **I should take note that I am worried about Judge #3. He appears to be in a bit of distress, as he is cursing uncontrollably.

>Judge #3 — You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I’ve lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are filled with lave to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing; it’s too painful. Screw it; I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili #8 Karen’s Toenail Curling Chili

>Judge #1 — The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold, but spicy enough to declare its existence.

>Judge #2 — This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild, nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over, and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor fella, wonder how he’d have reacted to REALLY hot chili.