humor – Page 5 – The Creative Chronicles of Dave Stancliff

The Ghouls Night Out

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It was just after midnight when Cindy, Laura, and Tonya arrived at the trendy restaurant in Newcastle’s graveyard.

Blood and Bones offered the very latest in human cuisine and was a good place to be seen.

They were just good old country ghouls who enjoyed mingling with wealthy vampires and werewolves. When their waiter arrived, a zombie in a tuxedo, they ordered Hors d’oeuvres of boiled eyeballs and pickled ears.

The main dish they picked out was bar-b-que ribs, a chilled gut salad, and livers smothered in human fat.

“I still remember the old days,” Cindy said, while chewing on a pickled ear. “We had to hunt around for food and usually ended up with skimpy grave leftovers after the vampires and werewolves were done feasting.”

They toasted with a round of sparkling spinal fluid.

“To progress!” Tonya declared as she drank hers in one gulp.

Laura was delicately sipping hers when she saw a tall dark vampire who looked a lot like Elvis Presley. He was moving from one tombstone table to another casually greeting everyone.

Bela was the genius who came up with The Blood and Bone franchise that now spread throughout New England.

His black hair was swept back in a ducktail. His pale face made his red lips stand out like blood rubies. His black pupils were obsidian orbs that never blinked. The cape he wore over his fine black suit was lined with scarlet red satin.

Tonya saw Laura’s attention was elsewhere. Focused on Bele.

“Isn’t he a snappy dresser?” Tonya asked Laura.

Cindy whispered, “Here he comes,” and hurriedly swallowed the rest of the eyeball she was enjoying.

“I hope the food is acceptable Ladies.”

“Oh, yes…” they agreed in unison.

“You must be new. I don’t recall seeing you here before. I have an eye for pretty ghouls and would have noticed you.”

They were charmed. Finally, Laura spoke up;

“We’re from the hills about 10 miles from here. Not much happens up there, and we get bored. So, we like to have a ghoul’s night out once in a while, and go to a city. You’re right. This is our first time here.”

“How quaint,” Bele noted. “You should know there is a dress code here, and ragged blue jean shorts and low cropped blouses are not on the list.”

As It Stands, I’ve always enjoyed the classic monsters and this is a silly tribute to the genre.

How Little Tim Made A Bigfoot Run

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“Did you hear that?” six-year old Tim asked his four-year old brother Tony who was already beneath the blanket.

“Yessss…” Tony groaned.

“Someone’s outside our window. I saw a face.”

Tony’s low groan turned into a high-pitched whine of fear. He was afraid of things that went bump in the night. His active little imagination pictured a loathsome creature intent on eating him and his brother.

Tim pulled the blanket away and slithered down to the carpet. Moving cautiously, he crawled over to the window. Peeked through the lower part. Full moon. Lot’s of shadows. Something was out there.

He didn’t believe in the boogeyman. That was a four-year old’s fear. Nothing to it. But there were other things. Bad things. Bad men. Thieves.

He thought about the baby-sitter in the living room. She probably had her cell phone glued to her ear talking with her dumb boyfriend. He bet she didn’t hear anything. Someone would have to kick the front door down to get her attention, Tim grimly thought.

Just then he spotted a hulking figure picking apples off their tree in the backyard. Tim had sharp eyes. Everyone said that. Right now they were wide open trying to make out what the figure was.

A big man wearing a furry coat? Could be. It could also be something else. Something his dad once told him about living where they did in northern California. “It’s Bigfoot Country,” he told Tim ever since he could remember.

But Mom and Dad said Big Foot was just a legend that everyone liked to talk about in these parts. He was never sure. More than once he caught a couple of oldtimers sitting outside Lud’s General store talking in serious tones about a Big Foot sighting.

Was that the real thing eating their apples out there?

Suddenly he heard the back door open. Then to his utter amazement the babysitter, Lulu, walked right up to the hairy hulk who had stopped eating an apple and turned her way. Before Tim could gasp the hairy thing enveloped her in it’s shaggy arms!

Without thinking, Tim grabbed his baseball bat and ran out the back door. He heard funny noises as he came up on the thing that had Lulu. Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron, Mickey Mantle…all of them would have been proud of Tim the way he weilded that bat!

Screams. Lulu’s high-pitched screech tore the night in half and the Bigfoot made some wounded sounds then staggered off into the forest grunting in pain.

The next day when Tim and his family went to the local football game – his parents were volunteers – there was a short announcement about the school mascot not being able to perform tonight, but don’t worry, the doctor’s said he’ll recover in a week or so.

As It Stands, as the school mascot found out, life is full of surprises.

Man’s Best Friend Has A Secret…Maybe Two

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A very short story for animal lovers today:

When the front door locked and all the lights were turned off, except for the front window display, Seth, the German Shepard (who had the best view), barked once and said, “All’s clear!”

“Just in time too,” said Penelope the Poodle, “I was ready to tell that human to shut up already!”

“Easy with the tough talk missy,” Perry the Pug warned. “You’re supposed to be a sweet little doggie that someone would want to adopt.”

“Blow it out of your ear you stupid pug!” Penelope huffed.

“Both of you take a chilly bone. We don’t want to hear you two argue again all night,” Bob the Beagle interrupted. “Oh look! Larry got out again…”

Just then Larry the Labrador Retriever came around the corner. He stopped in the middle of the aisle and greeted them all; “Told you. No stupid human can keep me locked up if I don’t want to be.”

“Why you calling humans stupid Larry? Bob asked, with his southern drawl. “They feed us, give us a place to live, play with us and if we’re lucky they love us.”

“You know what I like about you Bob?” said Larry.

Bob smushed his snout into the cage door bars and asked, “What?”

“Your an optimist. You also come from a championship litter and humans like that. Take mutts. Mutts usually end up in dog pounds and shelters where their options are; get put down for the endless nap; live their entire life in a five-by-five cage; or someone MIGHT adopt them.”

“You can’t compare pedigree breeds with mutts. We’re bred to be superior, while mutts are usually an accident between two breeds,” Penelope proclaimed in her high (and highly irritating) snooty voice.

“Well, we must be as stupid as humans if that’s the case,” Chico the Chihuahua chimed in.

“Why’s that?” Perry asked.

“This talk about one type of dog being better than another is racist. Just look at the humans. They’re divided up into groups who barely tolerate one another because they look different or have different beliefs,” Chico explained.

Horace, the Blood Hound puppy, had been listening intently to the conversation. He finally spoke up, “Hey guys! How come we don’t talk with humans?”

A stunned silence.

“It’s to our advantage.” Seth said. “We always know what’s on their mind because they don’t think we understand them and speak freely in front of us. It’s way better than trying to read expressions.”

Horace seemed happy with the answer, and snuggled up with his two litter mates.

Larry then made his rounds seeing if any dogs needed anything – a midnight snack? No problem. The place was full of treats. Whenever Larry got adopted someday they’d all miss him.

“It’s nearly time for the human to show up!” Larry warned as he headed back to his cage.

“At least I won’t have to listen to you talk anymore you ugly pug,” Penelope snidely whispered.

As Jean the shop owner unlocked the front door store she thought – just for a moment – that someone said, “Stick it up your ass bitch!”

As It Stands, when I was young I really believed animals could talk and I just wasn’t lucky enough to catch them conversing. It’s a fantasy I still have.

White House Stops Press Briefings, Refers Reporters To Fox and Friends

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It’s official.

Since his presidency, Trump has watched Fox and Friends every morning before any security briefings, or news.

Republicans who have sworn fealty to his Orangeness in Office, have decided it’s time to fully submerge themselves in the administrations swamp.

House Republicans introduced a bill making it mandatory for all GOP members to watch Fox and Friends every morning before going about their day. The bill is expected to pass with the current GOP majority in the House and to move on to the Senate without any discussion.

Senate confirmation is a given.

White House staff members – especially the propaganda unit – are busy fighting all the fake news (everyone but Fox and Friends). By canceling all White House Press Briefings, Trump has taken another step to Make America Great again.

This is truly an exciting time for Americans. It’s been nothing but winning, winning, and more winning with Trump at the helm.

But wait! There’s more: All liberals will be required to wear a rainbow ID badge if Lying Ted Cruz has his way. He’s attached a rider to the Fox and Friends Bill that looks like it’ll go unchallenged.

As It Stands, you are now leaving the Twilight Zone, or just woke up from a nightmare!

An Old Expression/Response That Will Leave You laughing

portrait me & shirley

Got a big smile going on today?

If not, allow me to toss out a few crumbs of jocularity for your entertainment.

My wife and I (photo) have been married 43 years as of August 31st. We’ve stayed together this long because we communicate and both have a good sense of humor.

One night, I remembered an old expression my Dad used and spontaneously decided to share it in a moment of frustration.

It was one of the funniest expressions for exasperation I ever heard. More on that in a moment. To this day, it still ranks in my top three retorts.

History. The whole family was in the car driving to the beach (1960) and my mother was thoroughly breaking Dad’s chops over trivial things:

“Why can’t you speed up and go around that idiot?”

“Why are you slowing down… the lights still yellow?”

The four of us kids were in the back seat, forced to hear the constant pick, pick, pick of my mother’s complaints. This went on for nearly an hour before Dad could no longer hold it in anymore.

It was a quick retaliatory response. Stunning in its directness;

“Margaret… would you shut up? Your ass sucks canal-water!”

There was a stunned silence, then we kids burst out laughing. My mother didn’t seem to have a response. She made funny little gurgling sounds (they may have been growls). I had trouble getting my breath, I was laughing so hard.

A moment in time.

Which brings us up to the time when my wife, Shirley, and I were working on putting together Christmas toys for our three boys. Bikes and benches. Hundreds of screws and nuts and bolts. No sleep until the job was done.

It was a recipe for disaster. For whatever reason I blurted out, “Your ass sucks canal-water!” At first I thought she was going to throw a wrench at me. But, to my surprise, she burst out laughing and wanted to know where I heard that expression?

With pride, I said my dad and told her the story. When it was over she said “That’s cute. Now don’t you ever say that in front of our boys!”

So much for tradition.

As It Stands, life is full of laughs, you just have to recognize when.

‘Can You Hear Me Now,’ and Other Silly Questions

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If a tree falls in the middle of a forest, does anyone hear it?

The answer is, of course, the wildlife hear it really well, especially the ones that were living in that fallen tree.

If a blog hardly gets any traffic what is the answer?

More than likely, it wasn’t set-up properly and no one sees it on the web. This is especially true if you’re an amateur, like me. Blogging content is also obviously important.

I made a few adjustments yesterday, but I’m not sure they’re making any difference yet. Question:

By the way, how did you find my blog? Moving on…

What were the first words ever spoken on the telephone?

“Mr. Watson–come here–I want to see you.” – Alexander Graham Bell, inventor of the telephone

What would you have said?

I thought about a reply, or two. How about, “Hello! Can you hear me?” Or perhaps, “Hello! Do you deliver pizza?”

Communication is so important.

The best communication takes place when two, or more people, are in the room and everyone is contributing.

When you see someone walking down the street and talking out loud in what appears to be a one-way conversation, what comes to your mind?

The person is crazy. Or, the person has an earbud in, and is talking with someone else on a cell phone. To determine which it is casually look at their ears – you should get your answer pretty quickly.

As It Stands, when I was younger (I won’t say how young) I thought animals could talk, but they only did it when humans weren’t around.

I Played Basketball On LSD…and There’s More

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It was the summer of 1971. Or, was it ’72? It might have been ’73.

Anyway…my buddy and I often played 2-on-2 pickup basketball games in gyms in Southern California. One day we dropped some really colorful Orange Wedge acid (could have been Orange Sunshine) and went to a gym to play basketball.

Acid heads know what I mean when I say we were starting to ‘Come on” when we challenged two guys to a game. Perhaps if we weren’t in a hazy state we would have noticed some odd things about them.

But we didn’t and the game was on. About the time one of them pulled up to take a shot I was getting “follow-ups.” The ball seemed to hang in the sky, coming down like a rainbow as it rattled around the rim and went in.

My friend looked at me, and shrugged. Then he started to get “follow-ups” while we tried to guard the basket. It was useless. We were moving like automatons. The game was over before we knew it. 10 – 0. A point a basket.

We took a break. Got some water at the fountain in the gym. We both were enjoying all the colors around us when I happened to look over at the other side of the gym and spotted one of the guys warm-up jackets…they were cops!

At that moment we we a white version of Cheech and Chong. Can’t remember all the dialogue (I’d be lying if I did), but I know we panicked hard for a couple of minutes.

It was a real bad thing to be caught doing drugs in the ’70s. People were getting life sentences for a joint.

Then something strange happened.

Perhaps it was pride. Perhaps we were a good team of two. We looked at each other and smiled. The two cops were taking shots at the basket on the far end of the court. We brought our Red-White-and Blue ball over and challenged them to a rematch.

They smiled so wide I could see their tonsils. We knew what they were thinking. Another easy game.

We got the ball first. I drove to the basket and when they both picked me up I tossed the ball to my friend. Swish! 1-0 us. They blinked for a moment then took the ball out. We played tough man-to-man defense, unlike the first game.

I wish I could remember the final score…but, I can tell you we won! Both men seemed shocked. They had to suspect we were flying higher than the balls we were tossing up from every angle.

What a victory. As soon as we got outside I threw my guts up – some orange flavored cereal from that morning – and then we went tripping on to our next adventure. It must not have been that good, because I can’t remember it.

As It Stands, this is a story I couldn’t have shared during my newspaper days. I’m glad I can now. Hope you enjoyed it.

Kicking Back in the Dog Days of Summer

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We are in the Dog Days of Summer.

The sultry summer heat has descended upon North America.

Depending on where you live, it’s probably pretty hot, perhaps humid, and in general uncomfortable outside right now.

For some, August heralds the end of summer vacation and a new school year ahead.

Here in America, it’s became proverbial among farmers that a dry growing season through the dog days was preferable to the trouble of a wet one:

Dog days bright and clear
Indicate a good year;
But when accompanied by rain,
We hope for better times in vain.

Why the dog days of summer, you ask?

Simply put, the Romans decided the sultry part of the summer was supposed to occur during the period that Sirius, the Dog Star, rises at the same time as the sun.

From July 3 to August 11, is traditionally reckoned to be a period marked by lethargy, inactivity, or indolence.

I’ve got all three covered.

It’s hotter than hell in Medford, Oregon right now. We’re looking at temperatures in the 100’s this week. For me, that means staying inside and not even trying to brave the scorching heat outside.

I sincerely pity those who have to work outside.

I think that the Dog Days of Summer should be a time when everyone takes off work.

I realize that could get messy, but maybe this country needs to kick back for awhile and just relax.

With all the fiery rhetoric coming out of Washington we could use a good cooling off period.

Molly, my pug, thinks it’s a good time to go surfing (see photo on top of page of pug surfing). Cowabunga dude!

As It Stands, wherever you choose to take your dog just remember, don’t leave them in the car!

Naked Ambition in America

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The other day a friend asked my why so many billionaires are in Trump’s administration? It didn’t seem to make sense to him.

“It’s not the money” I explained. It’s naked ambition.

I gave him a recent example:

Citing “multiple sources,” The New York Post’s Page Six reported that Anthony Scaramucci’s (Trump’s new Communication director) wife, Deidre Ball, filed for divorce after three years of marriage because of Scaramucci’s efforts to get close to President Donald Trump.

Ball reportedly “despises” Trump, according to the Page Six report.

One source said “She is tired of his naked ambition, which is so enormous that it left her at her wits’ end.”

All one has to do is look at Trump’s billionaire boys club masquerading as a presidential cabinet to see what’s going on. Naked ambition. They have the money. Now they get to satisfy their lust for power.

What better example of naked ambition than Trump?

All I know is that naked ambition usually ends up badly for someone. In this case Trump and the American people. There are exceptions.

Speaking of Naked Ambition, you should read Lisa Martinovic’s account about streaking in 1974, during her second quarter at UC Berkeley. Quick and fun read.

There’s a new thriller out called “Naked Ambition,” by Rick Pullen. Quick intro:

“When newspaper reporter Beck Rikki receives an unsolicited call from a high-ranking government official sending him off to investigate a candidate for President of the United States, he doesn’t realize he’s stumbled onto the story of a lifetime.”

Still one more book worth reading for a good laugh is “Naked Ambition: Corporate Animals Stripped Bare” by Lawrence Basapa. Quick intro:

“A tongue-in-cheek look at different personalities in the corporate world, Naked Ambition will keep you wondering what games are afoot where you work, and who’s doing you in, even as you read.”

Hmmmmm…almost sounds kinda familiar. Like what’s happening today.

As It Stands, Cris Jami said it best, “Find a purpose to serve, not a lifestyle to live.”

WWWF White House Action Reports

Donald Trump, Vince McMahon, Bobby Lashley, Stone Cold Steve Austin — WWW Action 2009

Now that Washington DC is the new home for World Wide Wrestling Federation, politics has never been so entertaining.

Gorgeous Donny Trump, resplendent in gold tights, has been wrestling with Jumping Jiminy Cricket Jeff Sessions in a royal smack-down that started days ago, and has no end in sight.

Alt-right fans have loved the action thus far. This is what they paid for when they voted for Trump.

The rest of the country is looking on with fear and loathing.

Trumpanzees love the colorful cast of characters. The new punk on the block; Mooch the Mauler taking on Paranoid Reince Priebus, and pinning him with vulgar insults, lies, and the backing of Gorgeous Donny. It was a winner-take-all match and Paranoid Priebus was blindsided.

Just days before, in an unscheduled event, Gorgeous Donny tag-teamed with the Mooch the Mauler and body slammed Mean Sean Spicer through the ropes.

He was last seen staggering down the White House driveway with a bloody nose and a torn-up contract.

And who can forget Gorgeous Donny’s death match against Too Tall James Comey? It was billed as Russia vs the USA. Their first match was declared a tie. Check with HBO to see who is broadcasting any further matches between the two wrestlers.

Rumors have it that Women’s Wrestling in the White House is just around the corner. First match; Killer Kellyanne Conway vs Sarah “The Beast” Huckabee Sanders. Stay tuned.

As It Stands, who knew that Trump’s early days with the WWWF would qualify him to be the next president of the United States?

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