Beaming With Pride



















Once in a great while my son, Eckhert, does something that makes me beam with pride. I know what you are thinking- that he finally started that humor blog he talked about a few months back.

Not it.

No humor blog. He did write one post which he sent to Edna, my inner editor, as he has no inner editor of his own. She checked it for typos and errors and sent it back quickly so that he could make haste setting up his blog and publishing his first post.

Which he never did. Instead he spent his time dropping dirty clothing onto his floor and throwing tissues into his garbage, watching them fall on the floor instead and shrugging.

He may have spent a bit of time studying though because he just finished high school one semester early, having rocked nine regents exams and graduating with honors. Not too shabby really.

But that isn't it either.

The beaming with pride comes from the confidence and originality he shows when he speaks to the army recruiters who are calling him regularly to tell him how joining can support him in his quest to go to college, open his own business, sleep all day...it matters not what he says his goals are...the person on the other end of the phone has an answer for him. Joining the army, marines...what have you...is guaranteed to make his dreams come true. He has told the recruiters that he is a pacifist, a communist, an anarchist, a sociopath, and a homosexual. He has claimed to be androphobic (afraid of men) and papaphobic (afraid of the Pope). The only thing that had them concerned was his claim of homosexuality. Everything else they could work with.

Rather than just telling the recruiters that he has no interest in joining up, he instead turns it into a game of chess- he says something outrageous and then waits for the response.

I was leaving the house the other night as Eckhert picked up the phone. It was Sargent Hunter.

"Just a second, Sargent Hunter," says my 18 year old son, "I have to say goodbye to my mommy."

Beaming I tell you. Just beaming.









Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

Have a Nice Day!



















Hey! Is that you!? How are you!?!

It has been a long time, hasn't it? You are looking great! New haircut? No? New Glasses? No?

Oh, you got your teeth cleaned! Fabulous. It's a good look for you.

I really like your pantsuit. What would you call that color? Really? I would say that it is more of a saffron- it definitely has a bit of yellow. The little paisleys are a nice touch. Very nice.

How am I? Thanks for asking. Not bad. Can't complain.

I know! I know! You're right! I really haven't been around much! Life is so busy nowadays. You know how it is, with the kids, the dog, the family rock group tour schedule, the new slow cooker, and all the rabbits. Crazy, isn't it, how time gets away from you?

It is nice to be back. Things look pretty good around here. The followers are looking great. Nice to see all their smiling faces. I always liked those guys. A very good looking intelligent bunch of people. Good to see them again.

It was great seeing you. I have to run. I'm off to pick up more rabbit pellets. But let's get together real soon. We'll do lunch!

Have a nice day!











Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

The Latest Facebook Games















Some fun is going on.... just write the color of your bra in your status. Just the color nothing else. And send this on to only girls no men... It will be neat to see if this will spread the wings of cancer awareness. It will be fun to see how long it takes before the men will wonder why all the girls have a colour in their status.


SOME FB FRIENDS HAVE PUT TOGETHER A "SUPPORT AMPUTEE AWARENESS GAME"IT'S SIMPLE ALL U DO IS POST THE NUMBER OF FINGERS YOU HAVE! NO EXPLANATION! JUST THE NUMBER! THIS SHOULD BE FUN,PASS THIS ON INBOX IT OR USE CHAT BOX!!!!!!


Here's a fun game for you! Just write your social security number as your status! Just the number- no explanation! Then forward this message to all your facebook friends. What a wonderful way to promote identity theft awareness!

We are playing a game...... silly, but fun! Copy this and pass it on to all Boys/Men ...... NO WOMEN!! Write the length of your member, in inches, just the measurement, nothing else!! This will be fun to see how the game spreads, and spreads awareness of erectile dysfunction and we are leaving the women wondering whats UP! They will have no idea why all the men have 8 plus inches as their status! Let's have some fun and support a worthy cause :)

Some fun is going on.... just write the name of the racial group you dislike the most as your status. Just the group nothing else. And send this on... It will be so neat to see how this promotes the cause of bigotry awareness.

Some FB friends have put togeher a "SUPPORT DEVELOPMENTAL DISABILITY AWARENESS GAME" It is really simple. All you have to do is post your IQ as your status message. Don't explain what you are doing, just post the number. This will be a fun way to spread the wings of developmental disability awareness and it will really have the retards guessing!



Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

Shut Up!


Haven't heard much from Ms. Stinglash lately have you? Beginning to worry, weren't you? Of course you were. You may have busied yourself bringing forth holiday cheer, making merry, toasting in the new year, etc...but all of that was to keep your mind off your nagging concern about Sondra Stinglash and her strangely uncharacteristic silence.

Let me enlighten you. You see, as it turns out, the always-full-of-surprises-woman-of-unending-mystery, Sondra Stinglash, has a bit of a spiritual side. And it was just that very side that brought her to ring in the new year without so much as a peep, as she was immersing herself in a blanket of quiet at a silent meditation retreat, spending her time being one with her breath, attending to the here and now and all of that.

Here is some useful information to help YOU survive your next 5 day silent meditation retreat.

You will need to learn to walk like a zombie. They call it walking meditation. But seriously, it is hard to get past the fact that everyone looks like the undead when they do it, especially when they are walking outside en masse. The walking meditation is painfully slow. We were encouraged to take a few super slow motion steps and then pause, taking a moment to close our eyes and breathe and be present in the body and then to take another step or two. The trick, as it turns out, to blending in is to wear boots and to leave them unlaced so that you have to take really slow careful steps so as to not lose your shoes. It works like a charm. Turns out that the other people are not sticking out their arms in front of them, however, so resist that urge.

Also, resist the urge to put a tiny Buddha statue on the knee of the meditator next to you while she is deep in meditation. If you don't remember the Sienfeld episode that might inspire such an action, I will refresh your memory. Elaine and Jerry are at a piano recital and Jerry puts a pez dispenser on Elaine's knee. She, of course, is left having to stifle her laughter and not go into convulsions in the recital hall. Turns out that the trick is even more hilarious in a meditation hall. That is, it WOULD be more hilarious if those meditation junkies had a sense of humor.

As it turns out, talking is overrated. You will get by just fine without speaking for a week. Don't be afraid. After a brief adjustment period you won't miss the verbal thing at all.

Except for swearing.

Turns out that when you do slip up and accidentally speak aloud, you can neatly and spontaneously express that which needs to be voiced using only one, or at most, two words.








Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

Difficult Times


Enjoy a classic from way back in the early days of Callithump Thunderblog.


This piece was written some time ago, back in the days when our country was encountering difficult economic times.


Funny...It still holds up.




Dear Spleen,

We would like to thank you for your loyal service for the past several decades. You have been a reliable and hard working part of our organization. Unfortunately, the recent financial crisis has forced us to re-evaluate our way of doing things; to do some soul searching, if you will. We have decided that, in order to remain truly competitive, our organization will need restructuring. As you are aware, we recently circulated a questionnaire. We have had a chance to analyze the data and found the results to be quite illuminating. It seems that the majority of those surveyed were not at all aware that you were a part of our organization. Those who knew of your existence did not have any knowledge of your function. (For your information, the heart, brain and reproductive organs received the highest marks.)

We understand that your function is important to the organization as a whole, but in these times of belt tightening, we have to take a good hard look at our practices and we have determined that dedicating an entire organ to the specialized job of cleaning up of red blood cells is not cost effective. In order to trim overhead costs, we have made the decision to eliminate your position and reassign your duties to another department, a larger and more high profile organ.

We understand that this news may be difficult, but you will be pleased to learn that we will provide two weeks of overtime pay during our transition period during which you will continue your daily functions while providing training to the liver, the organ to which your duties have been reassigned. Please bring a copy of your job description and report to the liver first thing Monday morning.

We recommend also that you take part in a creative job skills seminar, free of charge, hosted by the right brain. In these difficult times it is important to diversify your skills in order to increase your flexibility in a competitive job market. Please sign up quickly as space is limited, and the tonsils, vermiform appendix and the vestigial muscle palmaris longus have already reserved their spots.

Thank you for your years of loyal service, and good luck to you!


Sincerely,


The Management



Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

There's no such thing as a free hug

I hugged this guy. Well maybe not this guy, but it was a guy with a sign just like his. And a woman too. I hugged her. I was walking down the sidewalk in Times Square and when I saw the free hugs signs I jumped up and down with excitement and then ran and gave them both enthusiastic hugs. My family was all like, "Sondra Stinglash! What are you doing? Hugging a stranger?" But I was all like, "It's the FREE HUGS movement!! Don't you people watch youtube?" Then there was some eye rolling and someone said, "Whatever," and then I went ahead and enjoyed my free hug. And it was a great moment in the life of Sondra Stinglash. One of the best.





Or so I thought.

Come to find out that you get what you pay for.










Some great hug huh? Turns out my hug was just a second rate, hate filled, smelly hippy crap-hug. And I liked it! Now I feel violated and a little bit scarred for life. Free hug, my ass. My therapy bills are going to be through the roof. And I blame my family. After all, they should have protected me.




Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

The Buddha's Got Weird Ass Hands

This is an historical post, as it is the first ever written on a foreign computer on account of that I am currently in "The City," NYC, the Big Apple...that's New York City for you people from Manhattan, Kansas. I saved a few bucks by inconveniencing a friend in order to get a ride to my 1:00 in the morning bus which looked nice from the outside and was really clean so at first sight I was relieved that it wouldn't be a bus ride from hell, but it turns out that the seats seemed to be built for oompa-loompas or fifth graders or people with their legs amputated above the knees, which none of us were, so we were all crammed in fetal style. And the driver didn't seem to think we deserved heat so all night I was so freezing to death that I was thrilled when the total stranger next to me invaded my personal space in his sleep because body heat was the only way to stay warm. The sleeping people in front of me with their seats reclined so that the one seat was resting squarely on my un-amputated knees were so close to me that I had a perfect view of their sleeping heads resting against one another which looked so seriously sweet. This is what happens when you cram a bunch of strangers together in an unheated bus in the middle of the night- they reach for one another in their sleep.

Wow that was kinda sweet what I wrote.

Anyway, all this to save a few bucks.

Did I mention that I had to pee pretty much the whole night? And in the morning when we got there. And during the two hours when I was was walking around lost in Chinatown trying to find the #6 train. So when I finally got to where I was going I was really excited about peeing. Really excited. I figured that it was going to be the best pee of my life.

But it was only mediocre.

Anyhow- after taking a nap on a couch and enjoying vertical sleep for a few hours, I went out exploring and that's when I touched the hand of Buddha. It was in the produce section. It is a fruit or maybe a vegetable. See the picture. Cool huh?

Only in New York.

Well actually I don't really know this to be true; it is likely that they have Buddha's Hands in other places but I have only seen them here and I don't have any truly weird only in New York stories to tell and I like that expression, so I am keeping it.

But if I do get any of those stories you will be the first to know.




Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

World Peace Tea, Black Flax Slacks, Fortune Cookies In Bed and Enhanced Book Titles

So I went out with a friend of mine and we got tea and they had a tea called "World Peace Tea" which we didn't get because we wanted another kind of tea but we were both wracked with guilt because what if it really works and we didn't order it? We got regular kinds of tea like peppermint and chai though, not sinister tea with a name such as "Immediate World Destruction, But Fuck It Because This Tea Tastes Wicked Good," so it isn't like we are 100% terrible people. Just kind of bad people, I guess. We could try harder, is all I am saying.

Tea with positive messages reminds me of the clothing I used to buy with the affirmations in the tags. I don't buy that stuff anymore because I got tired of looking like a hippy clown in my baggy black flax slacks and one size fits all (and I mean it fits ALL as in everyone at once) shirts. They were super comfy and super unflattering but they made up for it by having tags that said nice things like, "Love yourself," and "These pants don't at all make me look fat." Uplifting messages like that. I used to add the words "in bed" to the messages for fun.

Well, not really, but it is an amusing thing to do with fortune cookies...and it works very well, especially when your fortune is something like this...

You will sleep soundly tonight.


That game reminds me of when I was in college and worked in the library. We had to read the call numbers of books on the shelves to make sure the entire library was in order. It was a really important job and it might sound as if it were boatloads o' fun, but it was really pretty much shit loads of tedium. To make our job more interesting, we played this game where you had to insert random words into the titles of books on the shelves. The words we picked were "GODDAMN, BALD, and GAY." This, as you are beginning to pick up on, was not a very mature game, but we weren't very mature people.

The enhanced titles included The Goddamn Grapes of Wrath, Gay Beowolf and A Portrait of the Artist as a Bald Young Man. This was very funny to us. It isn't funny now because you and I are mature. But it was a laugh riot then. To prove my point, I will now pick random books off my shelf and play the same game and you will see how un-funny it is.

What's the Goddamn Matter With Kansas?

The Gay I-Ching

Pride and Prejudice and Bald Zombies



See? Not funny.

Then why are you laughing? Stop laughing.

Oh sorry...that was me.

My bad.








Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.

Blog Widget by LinkWithin