Dear Cialis......

Dear Cialis manufacturer,

Just a quick note to tell you how much I enjoy your fantasy commercials for erectile dysfunction

I myself have been privy to thousands of stories of couples who were overcome by passion while fondling melons and bananas in the produce section of their favorite stores.

Not to mention the adorable couple who are caught up in the throes of romance while washing their dishes and cleaning their grungy kitchen.

That happens ALL the time……(wink, wink)

But my question to you is this.

Who decided that immediately after they get the idea for a little private time, these folks are magically transported into two old fashioned claw foot bathtubs in the great outdoors?

Now I may be a little slow, but wouldn't they need just one tub?

Man: "Yes, doctor I injured myself trying to get jiggy with my wife while we were lying in two bathtubs." "

"Three feet apart."

Doctor: "Sir, that is impossible."

"Unless you are a porn star."

"Or an elephant."

Then we watch as hand in hand they gaze fondly into each others eyes and then back out into the ocean or lake or some other ethereal body of water.

Now logistically, I am wondering how this is all going to work?

First of all, have you ever tried to pick up claw-foot tub? Not to mention two of them!

Considering these folks are on the downside of 50, they would never be able to handle this chore.

Sciatica city.

And If they could mysteriously manage that unlikely task without throwing out their backs, what happens then?

Do they dash from their car all nakey and wrinkled through the woods to the tub destination?

And what time of year is this scenario plausible?

If it is Summer you have the obvious mosquito issue which would give new meaning to the term “slap and tickle.”

Of course Winter has the intense cold problem which would immediately annihilate all the benefits of your product.

Autumn presents the crunchy leaves and branches sticking to the feet situation.

And slithery snakes hiding under the cushy flora and fauna.

So that only leaves us with Spring, which of course, means the awakening of bears.

And believe me they don’t want to wake up to that sort of nonsense after a long Winters hibernation!

You think your biggest problem would be placing an embarrassing phone call to the doctor regarding a four hour erection?

Try dialing up a circus trainer to wrangle a starving grizzly who is staring at an amorous centerfold duo for AARP magazine!

Me thinks you better keep a speed dial to Ranger Bob at the ready in case Mr. Kodiak decides your jiggly backside resembles a pair of hairless Cryptomundos doing the Mamba.

Might be just the appetizer he’s looking for after a long Winters nap!

Cellulite sliders!

So do us all a favor and give us a break.

Show us some folks who are a little more believable in a situation that we can all relate to.

A cooing couple perched in their comfy King size bed with clean sheets.

Bowl of popcorn on their tummies.

Big flat screen glowing at their feet.

Empty Filippi’s pizza box on the floor.

With radiant smiles on their faces cuz “Dancing with the Stars” is about to start.

Now that is romantic!

And probably won’t require a trip to the Emergency Room.

And best thing of all, not a bear or a claw foot bathtub in sight……

…….I’m just sayin’

Left Coast Cousins......The True Story

Recently I posted a story that was written by my cousin in Oklahoma regarding a visit he made to San Diego many moons ago.

I indulged this non-fictional fantasy because he is like a bison.

Rare, extremely hairy and could crush me with his mighty hooves on a moments notice.

I promised then to reveal the TRUE story of what happened and let the chips fall where they may.

Plus he lives pretty far away and would have to travel really far to harm me.

History lesson….history lesson.

My parents were born and raised in the beautiful state of Oklahoma and because of this, many of my cousins, in-laws and outlaws still live there.

Now all of you have a relative who is renowned within the family clan to be a little off kilter.

You know.

One taco short of a combo plate…….

Not the brightest candle on the cake……

Not the sharpest knife in the drawer…….

You get the idea….

My cousin is that relative.

Certifiable and yet loveable all at the same time.

He may be crazy, but he is OUR crazy!

Many moons ago when I was a youngster, my mother told us that the doctors recommended he be released from the home for a few weeks and shipped off to “Cal-Eye-For-Knee-A” for a little rest and relaxation.

Her admonition to us was, “Just be nice to him and make sure all the knives are locked up.”

Now because we are polite folks and have always enjoyed human oddities, we waited with baited breath to welcome “Mr. Looney” to our fair city.

The day he arrived we were all so excited! 

Not only was the famous “Crazy Cousin” here but we actually got to talk to him and see if he really did wear his clothes inside out.

Because he lived in the great state of Oklahoma, which for all of you folks that are geographically impaired is in the middle of the United States, he told us that he had never seen an ocean before and was incredibly excited to witness the majesty of the pounding waves.

So we donned our demure 60’s beach garb and drove on down to the shore to give the guy a peek.

For any of you who have ever watched the movie, “Blast From the Past”, there is one scene where Brendan Fraser sees the ocean for the very first time.   He is wearing a pair of roller blades, skating on a sidewalk near the beach when he catches his first glimpse of the water. 

He is overcome with awe and excitement, proceeds to throw off his skates and bolts to the waters edge screaming with joy and wonder.  He then flings himself into the surf, laughing, leaping into the air and howling with delight!

Adorable in the movie.

Kind of embarrassing to witness it firsthand.

People gathered around to watch the Oklahoma maniac as he ran into the surf screeching, “Look, it’s all wet and foamy!!!!”

My sister and I hid in the bushes lest someone realize we were related.

After 20 minutes or so, and with the aid of a few concerned sunbathers, as well as the harbor police, he calmed down and plopped himself down on the sand.

At this point he spied the jetty which was jutting out into the salty sea and insisted on exploring its wonder.  Because our Mom had warned us to be nice to her nephew, we indulged his curiosity and led him over to explore the black and slippery rocks.

While we were walking down the perilous outcropping, he noticed it was the home for many beautiful starfish.

In the manner of the “little boy at heart” that he was, he said, “Those are amazing, I must possess some of my own!”

We told him, “Cousin, these are fantastic creatures of the sea and must remain in their rocky home lest we destroy the ecosystem!”

He said, “I don’t care. They are prettiful and I want to take some home in my suitcase and show my Okie friends and family!”

To which we replied, “Whatever.”

Meanwhile during this brilliant conversation as we were perched on the slippery rocks, we noticed a monstrous , thundering  wave headed directly toward his unsuspecting carcass.

 So of course we did what any red-blooded cousin would do.

We said nothing.

It wasn’t pretty…

Us; “Hey, you need to watch out for those waves!”

“We realize you don’t have them in the cement pond you have back home.”

“They crash onto the rocks every minute or so and will crush your body with their mighty power.”

Him:  “Ouch.”

So after prying a few magnificent starfish from their watery domain, as well as a few crabs off of his bloody derrière, he proceeded to haul the starfish to the parking lot where he placed them on the hood of the car to sizzle torturously in the blistering sunshine.

This is the same person that probably enjoyed frying ants with a magnifying glass when he was a tot.

When we got home he called an aquarium to ask about the process of preserving these unusual echinoderms for posterity and his future enjoyment.

Apparently the instructions were lost in translation.

Bottom line of the story.

 He packed them meticulously into his suitcase only to open it upon his arrival at home to the worst stench imaginable.

Second only to his swim trunks after that long day at the seashore.

It was rumored that my Aunt ran gagging to the bathroom screaming, “Just close it, just close it!”

And for once, she was not referring to his mouth.

Every since that fateful day, for the last bojillion years, my cousin has done every thing in his power to silence me forever regarding this taxidermy tragedy.

This includes strapping me to the back of his motorcycle, face to the asphalt for a “sightseeing tour” of the Oklahoma back roads near his home.

The latest attempt at squelching my ability to tell this sordid tale, was a visit to an antique shop in a tiny town on the outskirts of Owasso.

This place had a backroom that resembled a medieval torture chamber and as we walked toward its cavernous door he kept murmuring, “Just a little farther, just a little farther.”

Luckily, there was a little bitty bird sitting on the dusty floor who whispered, “Watch out lady, there is a guy behind you with a samurai sword.”

I got out just in the knick of time.

He then took me out for breakfast where they served me an old fashioned, “down home cookin" meal of 7 eggs, a mixing bowl of gravy, 2 pounds of hash browns and 6 sausage links.

Guess he figures death by heart attack is better than nothing at all.

Ah, my cousin……

Starfish scavenger, windmill jockey, antique hunter and motorcycle maniac.

As I said before, he may be crazy, but he’s OUR crazy!

……I’m just sayin’

"Hello, can you hear me now?"

Thinking about what would happen if my cell phone was disconnected and I canceled my Internet and cable?
Would that necessarily be a bad thing? 
Back to the days of a landline, some face to face interaction and a VCR.
This thought always surfaces when I see four people at a restaurant not talking to each other but texting four other people who are not even there! 
Social networking gone awry.
The disconnect of the intellect.
Twitter, Facebook, Google searches.
Obviously we cannot go back to the time of solely handwritten communication and the Pony Express, but sometimes it just seems like it was a simpler way to live. 
Would it kill us just to take it easy every now and then?
I think the idea of instant everything, be it download times or coffee makes us crazy.
We feel as though we are standing on the shoreline watching the river rushing towards us, desperate to pull another high tech victim into it's swirling chaos. 
Please don't misunderstand me.
I love technology and progress.
The idea that my children won't ever have to worry about polio or dying from something as simple as measles is a blessing.
The ability to Skype a friend halfway across the world from a tiny laptop on my desk is nothing short of a miracle. 
And the idea that I can post my babbling opinion for others to see with the click of a mouse is honestly astonishing to me.
But let us not lose sight of the present looking for something in the future.
The face to face.
A hug when someone is sad.
A phone call, not a text or an email, just to hear someones' voice.
Our life possibilities are endless, our abilities limitless.
We just need to slow down and enjoy them.....
But first I need to go check my Facebook feed. 
My "living vicariously through others" tank  is running critically low!
......I'm just sayin'

I'm a "NONE"

Been working non-stop at a computer the last two weeks at my job and all I can say is “No Bueno!”

The brain turns to mush and my posture is permanently Quasimodo-ish.

The only time I want to be on a computer is by choice, at home, in my jammies, eating a Hostess Snowball and sipping my Lipton Tea.

With my puppy chewing on my big toe.

Then to add insult to injury, every day when I drag myself home to the bell tower, I am buried under a two pound avalanche of voting minutiae in my mailbox.

Seriously?

How many beautiful trees have been wasted providing paper for this pile of useless doody?

Literally pounds and pounds of nasty rhetoric and accusations with most of it being insulting to my intelligence.

A picture of a nun sporting jazz hands, making a scary face with the caption, “I’m a “NONE”, What’s your political party preference?”

Really??

 My latest voting strategy is, if you fill my mailbox with useless voting ads, you are off my list.

Or clutter our street corners with your tacky signs.

Geez! I can’t even see the Statue of Liberty sign spinner tax guy with all of that junk in the way!

Epic ridiculousness.

And bottom line is, half the stuff is pro one issue and the other half is con for the same issue.

Obviously someone is lying.

I know, I know, everyone  has to get their message out….blah…blah…blah.

I don’t care……

All I know is bodies of mailmen and mailwomen are littering the streets and the sale of back braces for these poor souls is off the charts.

Enough already!!

I think we should go back to the good old days where the knights jousted to establish superiority and the winner just loped off the other guys head.

Much cleaner and to the point.

Or we should round up all the mail workers and they should be able to vote thumbs up or thumbs down in an Olympian style arena on which candidates get to be munched by a lion from the Wild Animal Park.

The more ads they had to deliver, the greater chances of being a big “Frisky” lion treat.

As it is, my regular mail is being held hostage somewhere in a post office latrine because there is no room for it in my mailbox.

So I for one can’t wait until the election is over.

Cuz my “Puppy Potty Training for Dummies” monthly magazine is over two weeks late!

…………I’m just sayin’