Stardate: 3165-3/7
We’ve landed safely on the abandoned planet formerly known as Eartha. We’ve confirmed that the enormous remains of a settlement that we saw from the air seems to be some sort of religious center as we’ve discovered inhabitants’ dwellings surrounded by a type of primitive concrete belt; perhaps to carry worshipers around and also away from this “city.”
Our crew of scientists will begin exploration.
Stardate: 3165-3/8
Amazing discovery. We’ve determined that this indeed is a religious center populated with numerous temples. We’ve also determined that the inhabitants worshiped some sort of bean-like object that was bathed in a ceremonial liquid. The worshipers partook of the resulting elixir to gain alertness and stamina.
Stardate 3165-3/28
We’ve discovered thousands of “shoppees” throughout the “city” that must have dispensed the elixir, as well as numerous dwellings containing religious paraphernalia such as containers to brew the elixir and share it among worshipers.
Stardate 3165-4/10
Fantastic find – we have uncovered an almost-intact major temple and subsequently, we believe to be on track to discover the name that the inhabitants called their religion. How ironic that in such a primitive society as this must have been, that the religion was based on the vision of future space travel. The ancient writing on stone and wood, when deciphered by the Cryptosphere, appears to be either “Stardeer,” Starbukkes,” or “Starbucks.”
What strange creatures these inhabitants must have been.
© Copyright 2007 Suzzwords
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Friday, February 09, 2007
Weird Words
Think about this.
Put a “T” on “here,” and you are already “there.”
Do airline personnel say “boobye” on Halloween?
Can you hit a golf ball off a tee shirt?
If a bird flew into the chimney flue, would it wind up with bird flu?
If you drop a bud into the cake flour, will it still flower?
If you stored sports equipment in your attic, would that be considered the modern-day equivalent of having bats in your belfry?
Does a “beltway” go around a city or help direct a strip of leather around the waist of your pants?
Are “belt loops” a hide tanner’s equivalent of a cereal product?
If you loose weight around your middle, did you waste your waist?
Where does "lost" weight go?
If an end zone and a time zone got married, would their child be the end of time?
Can a “dojo” also be a female deer with a nickname?
If you “toe the line,” are sandals required?
Can you read red tea leaves while riding on the Reading Railroad?
That’s enough from me. Now it’s your turn.
© Copyright 2007 Suzzwords
Put a “T” on “here,” and you are already “there.”
Do airline personnel say “boobye” on Halloween?
Can you hit a golf ball off a tee shirt?
If a bird flew into the chimney flue, would it wind up with bird flu?
If you drop a bud into the cake flour, will it still flower?
If you stored sports equipment in your attic, would that be considered the modern-day equivalent of having bats in your belfry?
Does a “beltway” go around a city or help direct a strip of leather around the waist of your pants?
Are “belt loops” a hide tanner’s equivalent of a cereal product?
If you loose weight around your middle, did you waste your waist?
Where does "lost" weight go?
If an end zone and a time zone got married, would their child be the end of time?
Can a “dojo” also be a female deer with a nickname?
If you “toe the line,” are sandals required?
Can you read red tea leaves while riding on the Reading Railroad?
That’s enough from me. Now it’s your turn.
© Copyright 2007 Suzzwords
Sunday, February 04, 2007
T.P. Versus Paintballs
We awoke on a recent winter morning to discover we had been the target of a paintball attack. A whole series of orange “shots” spread across the front of our house as if fired from a slow moving car. Thank goodness the shooter was no closer or we could have been cleaning up glass as well. Double thank goodness it was only paint.
After the police report was filed for both a neighbor and us, and the mess had been washed away, I came out with nice clean windows and doors and a respect for the young police officer who answered the call.
Once back inside and warm again, I got to thinking about how much has changed. Do teens no longer creep into a chosen yard in the dark and toss rolls and rolls of toilet paper over the roof, across the cars and as high into the trees as possible?
Many years ago, the good-looking high school senior who lived across the street was treated to a T.P. party by his admirers on the cheer leading squad. There was so much giggling and “shhhushing” and car door slamming, it woke half the neighbors, but not the teen or his family.
The girls did an excellent job. Morning light revealed a tree beautifully draped with long white streamers gently wafting in the breeze, cars artistically adorned with sort of a plaid pattern, and hedges topped with loops and loops of toilet paper. Just as the teen and his parents discovered the yard decorations, a light rain began to fall. Well, you know what happens when T.P. meets moisture.
By afternoon, the rain had passed as well as a car of whoohooing waving girls as our young neighbor was filling trash bags with mushy, disintegrating tissues while pretending to be annoyed.
Back to our paintballs. Whoever did this was not having fun – at least not fun in a normal sense. (We have a strong suspicion who the culprits are.) It was done out of malice … a way of “getting even” for long-past imagined injustices. How sad.
Too bad we can’t turn back the clock for our young people and let them flourish in a world of innocent T.P. tossing – and put away the guns.
© Copyright 2007 Suzzwords
After the police report was filed for both a neighbor and us, and the mess had been washed away, I came out with nice clean windows and doors and a respect for the young police officer who answered the call.
Once back inside and warm again, I got to thinking about how much has changed. Do teens no longer creep into a chosen yard in the dark and toss rolls and rolls of toilet paper over the roof, across the cars and as high into the trees as possible?
Many years ago, the good-looking high school senior who lived across the street was treated to a T.P. party by his admirers on the cheer leading squad. There was so much giggling and “shhhushing” and car door slamming, it woke half the neighbors, but not the teen or his family.
The girls did an excellent job. Morning light revealed a tree beautifully draped with long white streamers gently wafting in the breeze, cars artistically adorned with sort of a plaid pattern, and hedges topped with loops and loops of toilet paper. Just as the teen and his parents discovered the yard decorations, a light rain began to fall. Well, you know what happens when T.P. meets moisture.
By afternoon, the rain had passed as well as a car of whoohooing waving girls as our young neighbor was filling trash bags with mushy, disintegrating tissues while pretending to be annoyed.
Back to our paintballs. Whoever did this was not having fun – at least not fun in a normal sense. (We have a strong suspicion who the culprits are.) It was done out of malice … a way of “getting even” for long-past imagined injustices. How sad.
Too bad we can’t turn back the clock for our young people and let them flourish in a world of innocent T.P. tossing – and put away the guns.
© Copyright 2007 Suzzwords
Friday, February 02, 2007
No More Free Cotton
As I picked up a prescription the other day, it occurred to me that I could hear the pills rattle. I’ve been hearing pills rattle for some time, but it never seemed significant. (There must be some aging rule, you know, like one new pill for every five years over the age of 50.) Maybe I never really paid attention to the sound before because I’ve been busy with more important matters like trying to find a good rock and roll radio station.
The pills rattled because there was no little cotton puff stuffed on top of them to cushion and minimize their space. I miss that little wad of cotton but not because of it’s cushioning effect, but because of all it’s recycling potential.
I don’t know about your house, but in mine, we had a special container just for the cotton plucked from pill bottles. Who bought cotton balls? Just get one out of the container. That cotton was used to remove nail polish, swab out the dog’s ears, apply all sorts of liquids to all sorts of places, stuff or restuff small toys and pillows, and spread oily stuff on tools. The uses were endless
Now it’s all over. The pills rattle in their cottonless containers. It’s the end of an era. Economy has prevailed. What’s next? Will we just hold out our hands so the pharmacist can pour the pills into our cupped palms? Maybe we'll bring our own containers like a chipped coffee cup and an old mayonnaise jar or save and reuse the bags in which we brought home the tomatoes?
Maybe instead of recycling my pill containers, I’ll just save them for the future. I could stand outside the pharmacy and offer them to people with no containers. “Get your red hot pill bottles here!”
Or I could save them up and build something. In no time I would have enough to build an small house. Why not? I’ve seen pictures of houses built from beer cans. I can “chink” the spaces with cotton. Oh, wait. There’s no cotton. Oh, the heck with it. I’m going back to looking for that good rock and roll radio station!
© Copyright 2007 Suzzwords
The pills rattled because there was no little cotton puff stuffed on top of them to cushion and minimize their space. I miss that little wad of cotton but not because of it’s cushioning effect, but because of all it’s recycling potential.
I don’t know about your house, but in mine, we had a special container just for the cotton plucked from pill bottles. Who bought cotton balls? Just get one out of the container. That cotton was used to remove nail polish, swab out the dog’s ears, apply all sorts of liquids to all sorts of places, stuff or restuff small toys and pillows, and spread oily stuff on tools. The uses were endless
Now it’s all over. The pills rattle in their cottonless containers. It’s the end of an era. Economy has prevailed. What’s next? Will we just hold out our hands so the pharmacist can pour the pills into our cupped palms? Maybe we'll bring our own containers like a chipped coffee cup and an old mayonnaise jar or save and reuse the bags in which we brought home the tomatoes?
Maybe instead of recycling my pill containers, I’ll just save them for the future. I could stand outside the pharmacy and offer them to people with no containers. “Get your red hot pill bottles here!”
Or I could save them up and build something. In no time I would have enough to build an small house. Why not? I’ve seen pictures of houses built from beer cans. I can “chink” the spaces with cotton. Oh, wait. There’s no cotton. Oh, the heck with it. I’m going back to looking for that good rock and roll radio station!
© Copyright 2007 Suzzwords
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