Silly Humor by Melody

Tattoo Enhancement Photo

Tell me the truth:

Does this tattoo make me look too tough?

How about now? 

Yeah, I could take you.

Rhett & Link - Kings of the Interweb

This is an important announcement.  You must start to worship Rhett & Link.

Inquiring Minds ask: Melody, you think Rhett and Link are cute, don't you?

What the heck?  Who are you?  Stop interrupting my blog.

Inquiring Minds:  We are only seeking the truth.  We think there might be a good story behind your motivations for talking up Rhett and Link.

I'm talking about them because they're funny.  As I was saying, before I was interrupted, you should worship Rhett & Link because they write hilarious songs.  They make silly videos.  They wear scraggly wigs and give each other perplexed looks.  They rap in pastel shirts.

Inquiring Minds say: Admit it, you think those North Carolina boys are hot stuff.

Hemmm!  This is a serious post.  I am providing a link to Rhett & Link, two comedy geniuses.  So I hardly think--

Inquiring Minds demand: Yes or no, do you think they're cute?

What do you mean, do I think they're cute? Yes, I think they're cute, but that is not the point, darn it.  They're funny.  Go watch them.

(Inquiring minds grumble and slip out the back door to harass some other love sick blogger.)

Doodle Inspiration

A fellow blogger and artist, Nicole Lee, commented on my post the other day, A Blogged Relationship . She said she wanted to draw my boyfriend vs. the blogger scene.

And she did it! I'm so excited and flattered. Thanks to Doodle by Lee at http://leesdoodles.blogspot.com/ Please go check her out and send her lots of good Internet karma.

Doodle by Lee. The code for this doodle and other doodles you can use on your blog can be found at Doodles.

Anti-Ego Day

It's a "Take it Easy Friday", and I thought what better way to relax then to let my ego go and show bad pictures of myself.

This first picture is a great picture of my bird, Sunny.  He thinks everything I own is a perfect landing platform, including hats and, occasionally, my nose.

I, however, look like an eyeless yokel who is about to spit.  "Pi-tooey!"

For my second exhibit, we have a picture taken by the Silly Boyfriend.  Like my bird, he is usually unconcerned about my ego.  This is why he uses every chance he gets to take bad pictures of me.

I've decided that in this picture, I look like a "Speak No Evil" statue.  And could the Silly Boyfriend have gotten a more close up picture of the bags under my eyes?  He probably could, so every time he reaches for my camera, I slap him.  I would not recommend doing this to your boyfriend, unless he really, really deserves it.  If you are not of the right gender or persuasion to have a boyfriend, then watch out.  There are probably people just itching to slap you.

And finally, I have a none-egotistical revelation.  There is a function on most phones called T-9.  Apparently most human beings and some small rodents know about this application.  I didn't know about this until today.  So for the past eons of my life, I have been creating text messages using three key taps for every letter I write.  I am ashamed to admit how many minutes of my life I have wasted this way.

Wake Up and Feel Your Feet.

I'm going to reveal a secret today.  High heeled shoes are actually torture devices.   I  know  some of you are thinking, "But those shoes in the picture are so pretty." 

I say, "Stop it!"

Most women will not admit their shoes are killing them because they want to be "sexy" and "beautiful".  As if their smiles and their eyes and the curves of their bodies were not enough.  They have to attach deadly spikes to their feet and hobble from one destination to another, instead of just walking like humans are supposed to do.

You think I'm exaggerating?  Be brave, find a woman who wears high heels every day and ask to see her feet.  If she doesn't deck you with a solid piece of office equipment, you will see a pair of mangled feet that resemble a cross between the creature from the movie Alien and a smashed up tomato.

Now I ask you, "Is that sexy?"

A Blogged Relationship

Casual Conversation in the Silly Humor House:

Melody:  Oh, my new friend, Lee, wants to draw a picture of my psychic post.

Cute Boy:  What's the psychic post?"

Melody: You didn't read my blog?

Cute Boy (sighs and ignores the question) :  What's the post?

Melody:  Go read it.

Cute Boy:  Come on, just tell me.

Melody:  Read the post.  That's what the blog's there for.

Cute Boy (blurts in frustration):  I am not going to communicate with you through your blog.  Now what did the (heated language) psychic post say.

(Melody and Cute Boy stare at one another in surprise.)

(Then, a moment later...)

Melody (begins to cackle):  Hehehe.  I am so gonna blog about this conversation.

Future's Lookin' Great

On the hottest day of the year so far, I was scurrying from one air conditioned shop to the next in the shopping district near my house.  That's when I saw a woman sitting on a bench handing out fliers.  Most people were ignoring her, but I decided to say hello because I knew she was probably roasting and miserable on that hot metal bench. 

Apparently this was my lucky day.  She declared herself to be a psychic and an "Adviser on all problems."  She pressed her flier into my hands and gave me a desperate smile.  "Sit down," she said, "I see great thing in your future."

Tempting.  Doesn't everyone want to hear that they are going to succeed at everything?  Wouldn't it be nice if bangle bracelets and long, frizzy hair were the uniform of people who could actually give good advice?  I would go to a psychic all the time if the magic worked.

But this woman, the person who wanted to tell me how to live my life, was sitting out in the baking sun, handing out poorly copied fliers, and was practically begging me for money.  This was just bad marketing.

If she could tell my future, why hadn't she won the lottery about 30,000 times in her life?  Why wasn't she an adviser to the United States government, they seem to need some good advice?  Why hadn't she predicted that I wasn't going to sit down with her and pay twenty dollars to hear that I should be careful in the month of August?

So I said "good day" and walked away from my almost-mystic.  Her smile slipped.  She kind of looked angry at me.  Again, didn't she expect me to walk away?  I waved a little over my shoulder and thought, I predict a sunburn in that psychic's near future.

Puddle Insurance

Rain can be glum when you're on vacation.  But should you get paid for bad weather?

Insurance companies and Risk Management sales people think there's lots of money to be made by selling suckers...I mean, clients an insurance policy before they go to the beach.

According to The Nightly Business News, a very respected and unfunny program, vacationers could choose the terms of their policy.  They could say, "If it rains more than a half inch every day, I get the cash."

What's next?  Bad Night Sleep insurance?  Upset Stomach before an Exciting Event Insurance?  And how much money are these Bad Weather Insurers going to charge me for my peace of mind?

Here's an idea:  If you need insurance against the rain, buy an umbrella.

Vespa Envy

I'm 4'10".  I appreciate little vehicles.  This Vespa is my new dream.  I saw it parked along my street the other day and had to resist the urge to hurl myself over the seat, wrap my arms around the handles and holler "My Motorcyle!  It's all mine!"

Mint green and slightly resembling a grasshopper, the cuteness factor of this mini-motorcycle instantly captured my heart.

Now I'm day-dreaming of dashing down island roads in Hawaii.  I could cruise back roads in Phoenix, Arizona.  I'd call her VickyLill and she would make the perfect companion for my travel blog, The Happy Wanderer.

I love you, little Vicky Vespa.  Please come to live with me soon.