Boots, Glorious Boots

By C.L. Beck

It's that time of year again! As the song says --

Wait! Just so you'll know. On the advice of my attorney, and for strict legal reasons that involve something or other, I'll be paraphrasing the song.

Oh all right. I don't really have an attorney. And I paraphrase because I can't remember the words.

Anyway, as the song from that movie about orphaned kids in London says, "Boots, glorious boots; hot leather and faux fur!While we're in the mood, snake belly and gopher!"

Now that I've regaled you with a song -- one that none of you recognize because I made it up -- let's get back to it being that time of year. Yes, it's time to buy boots, glorious boots.

I was out at schulershoes.com this morning, looking over their boots and shoes. They were really cute, and reminded me of something that happened recently.

Russ and I were in a shoe store, looking at winter boots, when I spotted this nice pair of black suede ones. With big, white snowflakes embroidered on them. And a stacked heel. They just looked so fun, hip, and cool.

I pointed them out to him, "Look, aren't these cute? I could use a pair for church."

Russ eyed them critically. "Would they fit? You know you have big calves, and it's hard to get boots up over them."

I sent a stare his way that would make a snowman shiver. "Not big calves. Well-formed, muscular -- but lovely -- calves. From all the exercising, I do."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, so big, muscular calves."

Ignoring him, I took the beautiful boots off the rack. I slipped them on and pulled the legs of my jeans up to my knees so I could get the full effect of the boots on my feet. "What do you think?" I asked Russ.

He hesitated. "Well, they're nice-looking, but you remind me of someone." He paused and then said innocently, "Oh, I know. You remind me of the ladies in the city who stand on the street corners at night, looking for ... um, you know ... friends."

And now you can guess why I was online this morning, looking at boots and shoes. It's a whole lot easier when Russ isn't around to offer his opinion.

At this point, who knows when ... or if ... I'll find some that'll fit over my well-formed, muscular, lovely calves. But, it's bound to happen sometime soon. Right?

In the meantime, though, have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day. Enjoy the feast. And don't forget what it says in that Christmas song, ""Ever body knows a missile and some turkey toes, help to make the seasonings right." 


(Disclosure: This article is sponsored by your friends at schulershoes.com. For more disclosure information on sponsored articles, please read the disclosure page.)

Author's note: If you enjoyed this mostly true story -- with a little bit of lying exaggeration thrown in, then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on the fun.

"Boots, Glorious Boots" © C.L. Beck. 
Image is the property of C.L. Beck, and may be found on other articles under her pen names. Please do not violate copyright -- obtain permission before using image.
Tags: boots, shoes, schulershoes

A Funny Poem about Being Busy ... by C.L. Beck

It's Been a Month Since I Have Writ



I'm sittin' here and feelin' sad,
Just knowin' I am so, so bad!

It's been a month since I have writ.
My brain says I am a nit wit.

My friends think I done flew the coop.
But ... I've been busy makin' soup,

And feedin' hawgs, and training dawgs,
And just for fun, been felling logs.

I scraped my knee, what really hurt.
Fell on my face, down in the dirt,

And writ this poem, as I lay there,
While little ants climbed in my hair.

And even though, I must admit,
I've made this up -- yup, every bit --

I'm hoping it will make you smile,
Forgive me for a little while.

And you'll still visit me right here,
Despite the fact there's no free beer.

Won't worry 'bout my missing face --
That hasn't been here, in this place.

Yes, life can surely be such fun.
So much to do, been on the run.

But, I'll be back again someday --
And then I'll have a lot to say!


Author's note: If you enjoyed this sorta true poem -- with a lot of exaggeration thrown in -- then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on the fun.

Article: "A Funny Poem about Being Busy" © C.L. Beck
Poem: "It's Been a Month Since I Have Writ" © C.L. Beck
Tags: free poems, funny poem, feeling sad, no free beer, funny poem about being busy, 

Get Me a Good Translation Service

By C.L. Beck 

Image © RosettaTranslation.com

Recently, I ran across a website for a translation service in London. I was delighted, thinking there was help in sight for Russ and me, since we sometimes have an inability to communicate.

Let me rephrase that. One of the biggest issues between Russ and me is his inability to communicate. Like almost all women of the world, I am well-versed at saying what I mean without actually coming out and expressing it, because men are supposed to get what we mean and not what we say, anyway.

Not that Russ would agree, but hey, what does he know?

I used to think it was because he's deaf in one ear and can't hear out the other that our verbal exchanges became confusing. Now I find that his texts are just as bad.

Not long ago, in response to a text I sent telling him what I was fixing for supper, I got the following reply: "You R sopping good."

I glared at my cell. What kind of answer was that? And why insult me when all I'd said was that I was fixing his favorite meal? My fingers fairly flew over the keyboard with my stinging reply.

Oh, all right, I'll tell the truth. It took me five minutes to type it, 'cause I suck ... er, I mean stink ... at texting. My reply said, "Sopping good!!??"

A few seconds later, I heard my cell ding -- as opposed to what phones used to do, which was ring -- and I checked the message.

He'd texted, "R U calling me sopping for some reason? What did I do now?"

Naturally, anyone can see that this error in communication did not come from my sharp mind but from Russ's cluttered brain.

That night, we talked and cleared it up. It turned out he'd typed, "You R sooooo good" and the auto text feature on his Android had substituted the word "sopping" for "sooooo."

Still, I think that being in the mental health/counseling field, Russ must accept Sigmund Freud's postulate that nothing happens by accident. Subconsciously, his brain went with sopping for a reason.

I must admit that a short time later, the tables were turned. I'd planned to meet friends for lunch, where we could converse, discuss, talk, gab, and parley to our hearts' content. Yup, obviously a group of all women!

But before I go any farther, let me say this about that. It's my considered opinion that many men don't have good communication skills. (Of course, this does not include faithful male readers at this blog!) However, men may know how to parley. My highly educated appraisal on that issue is based on the movie, Pirates of the Caribbean.

Hmmm, Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean. Talk about needing a translation service! That man talked like he had cotton in his mouth through the whole movie ... and in all 325 sequels!

Oh, I'm sorry. I digress.

So, according to Johnny Depp -- and this is assuming I understood him correctly through his slurring and mumbling -- pirates know how to parley.  And since most pirates are men, that means parleying is the only form of conversation they employ ... while sitting around a table, with swords in their teeth and rum on their breath.

Sooooo, (please note that my computer has more sense than any cell and did not substitute "sopping" for "sooooo,") back to the story about meeting friends. I texted them and said I could come on the specified day, "If we can meet in Nephi for lunch."

Which my cell changed to -- while I wasn't looking, mind you -- "If we can meet in Nephritis for lunch."

Just great. My friends thought I wanted to meet in kidney disease for lunch.

Well, all I can say is that cell phones obviously need a good translation service to get it right. Either that or they need to be created by women, who know from the day they're born how to converse, discuss, talk, gab, and parley -- even without swords in their teeth and rum on their breath.


(Disclosure: This article is sponsored by your friends at RosettaTranslation.com. For more disclosure information, please read the disclosure page.)

Author's note: If you enjoyed this mostly true story -- with a little bit of lying exaggeration thrown in, then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on the fun.

"Get Me a Good Translation Service" © C.L. Beck;  image © RosettaTranslation.com
Tags: translation service, Android

Mind's Eye View of Utah Lake ... by C.L. Beck

No article ... just a photo!

Mind's Eye View of Utah Lake © C.L. Beck


Author's note: If you enjoyed "Mind's Eye View of Utah Lake," then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on future fotos and fun.

"Mind's Eye View of Utah Lake" © C.L. Beck; image © C.L. Beck
Tags: Utah Lake 

Mother's Day Video

(So Touching)
Posted by C.L. Beck

Dedicated to all mothers, and to those friends and sisters who are like mothers to us. Where would we be without them?
Happy Mother's Day!


Author's note: If you enjoyed this post, but can only take so much tenderness before your eyes are swollen and you run out of tissues, stay tuned for humor comin' down the road. Sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right -- that way you won't miss out on the fun to come.

Tags: Mother's Day, eternal families

How to Get Rid of a Cold

Or ... Only the Nose Knows
By C.L. Beck

image © Sarej

How to Get Rid of a Cold

Those little germs are everywhere,
Inside your mouth and in your hair,
Up your nose—to make you sneeze,
In your lungs—to make you wheeze.

Those little germs are such a pain—
It seems like they've attacked your brain!
They’ve given you a nasty cold,
Which makes you feel so doggone old.

Whatever can you do instead
Of wheezing, coughing, in your bed?
Perhaps it’s time to let them go
To steal somebody else’s show!

Okay, so how to get rid of a cold for real? No miracle solutions, but here are a few tricks that might help the poor suffering sickee (that's you) feel a little better:
  • Use a saline solution for congestion. Either buy it as a spray in the store, or make your own saline solution at home. If homemade, be sure to boil the solution so that those nasty-wasty brain-eating buggers don't hitch a ride in it. For real.
  • For a sore throat, gargle with 1 tbsp cider vinegar mixed with about 3-6 ounces warm water. Very soothing!
  • Use cough drops or throat lozenges to keep your throat moist.
  • When blowing your nose, use tissues that contain lanolin or other skin softeners so your nose doesn't get irritated.
  • Wear soft, fuzzy clothes. Naw, they don't do anything for the germs, but the warm fuzzies are the next best thing to that wonderful blankie you loved as a toddler.

Author's note: If you enjoyed this mostly humorous, absolutely true poem, then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on the fun.

"How to Get Rid of a Cold" © C.L. Beck; image © Sarej
Tags: cold, germs, how to get rid of a cold

Sticky Notes

They're Not All that They're Sticky-ed Up to Be
By C.L. Beck

 The other night I had the strangest dream....

In it, I hunted all over for a pad of sticky notes, and every one that I pulled off my cluttered desk had lots and lots of writing on it. On every single page. Some written in bold, black marker.

The Hubster smiled and gave his mental health shrinky-therapist opinion. "That shows your desire to buy me a new car. Writing in blue signifies a Camaro ... red means you're getting me a Mustang."

What? I think not, Buster!

If the notes contained wisdom and knowledge, it would have been all right. Or if they even gave instructions on how to make my fortune, it would have been fine. But, they didn't.

And now -- for some strange reason -- I have a weird, nagging desire to drive to the office supply store and buy all their sticky notes.

Quick! Somebody hide my car keys.

Author's note: If you enjoyed this mostly humorous, almost true story, then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on the laughter.

"Sticky Notes" © C.L. Beck; image © QualityC
Tags: sticky notes, Camaro, dreams

"Descendant," by Nichole Giles: Coming May 1, 2013

A Sneak Peek at the Cover
By C.L. Beck

It's been forever since I've been part of a blog tour. Mostly because I don't get moola for it I don't have time. But, today my friend and co-author, Nichole Giles, is having a blog tour for the cover of her new book, Descendant. (Release date for Descendant: May 1, 2013.)

And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help with that? Please feel free to leave answers to that question in the comments below ... and keep them nice, or my blogger goblin will eat them for breakfast.

Blogger goblin. No, that would not be the hubster, Russ. It would be the dogster, Corky Porky Pie.

Aside from her prime virtues of being my friend and co-author -- and the fact that she's the talented individual who wrote, The Sharp Edge of a Knife -- Nichole has some other great qualities:

Nichole Giles had early career plans of becoming an actress or a rock star, but she decided instead to have a family and then become a writer. Writing is her passion, but she also loves to spend time with her husband and children, travel to tropical and exotic destinations, drive in the rain with the convertible top down, and play music at full volume so she can sing along.

Now that you know all that, take a peek at Nichole's new book cover for Descendant:

You're probably wondering if I've read a draft copy of the book. The answer to that is YES!

Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to yell with excitement, but it's a really good book. Nichole is an excellent writer, and if you enjoy YA-paranormal....

No, we're not talking abnormal. Although, I do know a few abnormal, young adults.

We're talking paranormal. Which is just a fancy term for events that happen without scientific explanation. You know, like Russ's hair falling out. Or the money in my pocket disappearing without my prior consent.

But in this case, it's neither of those happenings:

Seventeen-year-old Abigail Johnson is Gifted.

Blessed—or cursed—with Sight and Healing, Abby lives an unsettled life, moving from place to place and staying one step ahead of the darkness that hunts her. When she arrives in Jackson, Wyoming, she is desperate to maintain the illusion of normalcy, but she is plagued with visions of past lives mixed with frightening glimpses of her future. Then she meets Kye, a mysterious boy who seems so achingly familiar that Abby is drawn to him like he’s a missing piece of her own soul.

Before Abby can discover the reason for her feelings toward Kye, the darkness catches up to her and she is forced to flee again. But this time she’s not just running. She is fighting back with Kye at her side, and it’s not just Abby’s life at stake.

So there you have it. And in light of the fact that it's hard for me to find time to blog, that should tell you that the book is good enough -- waaaaay good enough -- for me to take  the time and trouble to write about it. Even if I didn't get any moolah for it.

(Disclosure: I received no compensation for this article ... unless you count the undying loyalty of my friend, Nichole Giles. For more disclosure information, please read the disclosure page.)

(Author's note: If you enjoyed the articles here then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on future  fun.)

"'Descendant, by Nichole Giles: Coming May 1, 2013" © C.L. Beck
Tags: Descendant, Nichole Giles

Funny Puns (Cats)

They're the Cat's Meow
By C.L. Beck


The other day when my brain had nothing else to do, it came up with a few funny puns about cats.

Well, okay, it really did have other things to do, but my brain doesn't follow directions well. It also runs with scissors, but that's another story....

Funny Puns (Cats)

What do kittens drink? Meow-lk.

What virtue do cats strive for the most? Purr-fection.

What kind of baseball pitch does a cat deliver? A hairball.

What's a cat's favorite cliche? You can catch more flies with honey. (And they crunch nicely, too.)

What do you call it when Fluffy gets a cut on her paw? A me-owie.

What’s a cat’s favorite infield position in baseball? Catcher.

If 20 felines were organized into a choir, what song would they sing? The Howllelujah Chorus.

What type music do cats prefer to hear? Catchy tunes.

What’s a kittens favorite snack? Meow-ouse.

What do cats do with their 401K funds when they retire? Purr-chase land in Boca.

What do you get if you cross a cat with a hippopotamus? A catastrophe.

Author's note: If you enjoyed this list of funny cat punnys, then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on future fun.

"Funny Puns (Cats) © C.L. Beck; image © C.L. Beck
Tags: funny puns, cats


Office of the Good, the Bad, and the Out to Get You
By C.L. Beck

Alas, it's that time of year when most of us start worrying about the IRS and tax returns. However, I'm Cindy, the fearless ... the brave ... the invincible. I scoff at the thought of Form 1040!

Furthermore, I never dream about tax agents, tax audits, or spending my life in jail for incorrect addition. No indeedy, the Internal Revenue does not haunt my dreams.

It haunts my every waking moment!

Truth be told, I'm scared spitless of the IRS. (And being without spit is not funny.)  

We were driving in the car and I said to Russ, "I'm so worried that someday I'll get audited by the IRS. I'm a very honest person, but that doesn't make any difference. If the IRS wants you, you're a dead chicken."

Russ crinkled his forehead and looked at me. "A dead chicken? I think you mean dead meat."

"Yeah, well, you pick your meat and I'll pick mine. I'm chicken of the IRS." I shivered, envisioning IRS agents behind every tree as we zipped down the highway.

Russ patted my shoulder. I'm sure it was to give me comfort and not to brush dandruff off my jacket. "What does our accountant say about it?"

"He says we're small fish and Internal Revenue would probably never even pull our returns." I sighed. "If only there were some way to insure they wouldn't even think about me."

Russ grinned. "I can help you there. Being a Jedi knight of the highest order, I have that power."

I cocked my head, and snorted. "Oh yeah? You don't even own a light saber. Let's see your great power. "

Russ cleared his throat, waved his hand slowly and mysteriously in the direction of the Ogden IRS center, then in his best Obi-Wan imitation intoned, "These aren't the tax returns you're looking for."

I'm sure hoping the Force was with him.

Author's note: If you enjoyed this mostly true story -- with a little bit of lying exaggeration thrown in, then sign up for my newsletter in the sidebar on the right. That way you won't miss out on the fun.

"The IRS" © C.L. Beck;  image © YM
Tags: IRS, Internal Revenue, Obi-Wan, Jedi knight