Callithump Thunderblog

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 horizontal 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.




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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.

In these difficult economic times, Callithump Thunderblog recognizes that it is not enough to provide first rate humorous anecdotes and hilarious commentary. We realize that what the typical reader really needs are ouch-less money saving strategies.

Look no further. You have come to the right place. Here is one such tip, something that will not only save you tons of money, but it is fun to do as well.

Here is what you do. Assemble the recipes together to create a delicious dinner menu. Write each ingredient on a separate piece of paper. Then add two other items to each piece of paper, so each resembles a list. Are you with me?

Here is an example:


1) pencil

2) Two 16 ounce cans of imported Italian plum tomatoes

3) paper clip



Find a group of people. Then, give each paper to a different person and tell them that, "We are having a scavenger hunt," and that they have to go door to door to get their items as in,

"I'm on a scavenger hunt and I was wondering if I can have a paper towel, 4 ounces thinly sliced procuitto, and a twist tie."

Set a timer and tell them to hurry, hurry, hurry. First person to collect their items and bring them back to you wins the prize. The prize is a cooking lesson under your tutelege!

"HURRY! HURRY! GO! GO! GO! WOO-HOO!"

This is a very good idea. You get to eat a delicious dinner for free and you get to have someone else cook it. And scavenger hunts are fun, so it is a win-win for all involved, not just the first one back. People love going on scavenger hunts and they love helping other people who are on scavenger hunts.

"Two ramekins of crème brûlée, did you say, coconut infused? No problem! Here you go! Good luck with your scavenger hunt! Bye now!"


But just to play it safe, don't do this in your own neighborhood because your neighbors might be weirdos who are prejudiced against enormous amounts of fun.

I think it would work well with children. That is what I recommend, anyway because children love to play games. But if you do it with kids, put them in teams so that they have a buddy. It will be safer for them that way. But if you do that you will need twice as many kids. So, the team thing is totally optional.

If you do use kids you can let them keep the pencils, ballpoint pen caps, paper clips, coffee filters and twist ties. Kids love that stuff. And they will want to play again and again.

So pretty much this is a perfect plan. No more grocery shopping for you tonight! You can just sit back and let your ingredients come to you. It's better than FreshDirect even, because it is free.

And, in case you are wondering why I know what FreshDirect is, it is because I am totally going to move to NYC, so I have to know about NY stuff like that.

I realize that moving to NYC is not a money saving tip. It is more like a really great personal fantasy of mine, that is, in reality, a money draining tip. I just really want to move there. If not forever, then at least for a year. I feel that it would make me a stronger person.

I told a friend of mine that once. That exact thing. I told her that I wanted to live in New York City for a year and that I thought it would make me stronger.

She responded, "Why not just get cancer? It would be cheaper."

And here is another money saving tip. Take candy from babies. It's easy and you will save tons of money on candy.








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I have been sick for four weeks now. In truth, I had a one week reprieve and then got sick again, so it is more like I have been sick for three weeks over a four week time period with two different illnesses, or maybe one illness with a relapse since it seems similar but with a lot more sleeping. Although, to be honest, I don't remember much about the first illness except I was on it, as in having a great attitude about "beating this thing" and totally doing the hot lemon and honey drinks, lots of soup and my favorite cold remedies. This time, I am so tired of being sick that I am pretty much not doing anything for it at all except sleeping. And coughing. In that department, I have been quite productive indeed.

Feel sorry for me.

It isn't H1N1. It isn't even regular seasonal flu. At first I thought it was a reaction to the seasonal flu shot that I got. I had never gotten one before and when I started feeling badly that very night, I right away assigned blame. And I had corroboration too, others claiming that they had had reactions to the flu shot as well. My brother, Hank Torgit, assured me that the reaction would only last a few days but the resentment towards the shot could be expected to last the entire winter. But then my son, Edgerton, who did not get a flu shot, got sick also and slept for a record 18 hours straight and I had to revise my initial assessment. When I consult Dr. Internet, it seems pretty clear that I have the common cold- but bad. A bad, bad, bad, bad cold is what I have. But no matter how many bads I put in front of it, a cold doesn't really sound so bad. It certainly doesn't sound like I should be in bed all the time, sleeping for 13 hour stretches, letting my surroundings crumble around me.

Although, it might be turning into a sinus infection. Probably it is, because my face hurts more than it is killing you even.

Sinus infection. Just doesn't have that poetic ring to it, as far as maladies go, like consumption, the plague or swine flu. Tell someone that you have come down with a case of consumption, and you are immediately recognized as tragically ill and you get the sympathy you deserve. Poorly named, those sinus infections. They sound so run of the mill, so pedestrian. They should be re-named. Like after the doctor who discovered them or the patient who had the first one.


Finklestien's Disease.



Now that sounds much more deserving of sympathy, not to mention offers of soup, hot tea and brand new iphones.



Remember. Whiny is the new funny. And this post is

*all together now*


FREAKIN' HILARIOUS!!!


















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As you might recall, my last post was full of advice for my son, Ellis, who is starting up his own humor blog. Or at least he said he was going to start one, but this could be like the time he said he was going to take over the world and insist that people eat more hot dogs. Or something like that. I am not sure about the details because the fact is HE DIDN'T DO IT. Poor follow through, if you ask me.

As might be expected, he has not read the post, the one I wrote especially for him, nor does he seem to have any interest in reading it. In fact, to get him to read my posts, I pretty much have to read them to him. Or hold his dinner hostage. And then read them to him while prying his fingers out from his ears.

As you, avid reader, might recall, one of my wise words o' advice for the boy, in that post that I wrote especially for him, was "Keep posting. Keep posting." This post falls under that category. The "keep posting" category. Do I have a theme? No? An idea? No. The desire to write? Not really. But I am doing it anyway. That is known as wasting everyone's time being brave. In fact, I am sick in bed. Only the second land-me-in-bed illness of this craptastic fall, the most craptastic fall in my history of falls. And autumns too, come to think of it.

Keep posting. Keep posting.

I used to only post when I was seized by an idea. I would know for several days that a post was incubating. When it was born, it was almost like I had nothing much to do with it. It just poured. I edited and revised in a frenzy and then, once it sang sweetly, I hit publish. Then I would realize that I missed a bunch of edits and I would edit some more. And then I would hit publish again and feel satisfied. Job well done. Another piece blogged. But lately, I have decided to challenge myself by writing more often, and seeing what happens. I figure that the only way I can become a better writer is to practice more. This is the idea anyway.

This isn't pouring. And no sweet singing is happening. This kind of writing is hard.

Perhaps if I had a topic. A funny story. A witty observation. Friends often try to help me out. "Blog about that!" they say. "That would make a great blog!" they cry in unison. I love that about my friends, how they are always crying things out in unison. I wish that they would break out into unison song and dance too. That would be really cool. I would invite them over more, if they did. Do you hear that friends? The reason that I don't invite you over more is because you don't break out into spontaneous song and dance. Not even that Tell Them Soldier Boy hip hop dance or the that Chicken wedding dance or anything. How hard would that be? Seriously.

So, anyway, friends make suggestions and I always laugh and say that I should use their ideas, but I never do. I don't really like being told what to do, I guess.

Hmmm...this just occurred to me. Maybe Ellis has inherited this trait from me.

WOAH!!!

Dear reader, you have just been a witness to one of those infamous, "AHA, DUH!" moments in Sondra Stinglash's life, where in an instant, I realize something that feels profound, yet in reality is simple and should be completely obvious.

Hey! Babies have big heads relative to the size of their bodies! I just noticed that!

AHA!

DUH!

Hey! You mean there is a shoe specifically for the left and another shoe specifically for the right?!

AHA!

DUH!

I just thought that shoes were meant to be uncomfortable, like half the time.


Yeah AHA! DUH!

Having a teenage son is full of challenging moments in parenting. But recently, my son, Edric, said something to me that made me beam with pride! Straight A's, you wonder? An after school job? Did he tell me that he thought that it would be good if he started taking responsibility and giving back to the community by volunteering at the children's hospital on weekends?

I am going to dash off a very quick post. Like I have 10 minutes before I leave the house kind of post; many would not attempt such a thing, but I am going to dazzle you with an act of brilliance of such caliber that my commenting audience will accuse me of cheating. "This post reeks of hours upon hours of earnest effort and hard work too, coupled with a liberal dash of Edna consulting; so fine craftedly honed it is," they will cry.

Or maybe not.

Probably not. Stop getting your hopes up.

It's just a stupid blog post anyway. If you want fine writing go to the library or something.

Here we go. An on-the-go, off-the-cuff, drive-by post. Problem is, I am a slow writer. It wasn't always that way, however.

I used to be a slow choreographer.

I don't make dances anymore on account of in the post college real world you have to pay for rehearsal space by the hour and the usual rule of thumb which is going to sound super slow to all you uninitiated folks who have taken choreographers for granted your entire lives, is that it takes one hour to come up with one minute of material. For real. That is a long time. So, next time you watch the ending of The 40 Year Old Virgin, where they burst out into song and dance, the "Age of Aquarius" number, just think about that. For me it took longer. No. Not the 40 year thing. THAT didn't take quite that long. I was talking about choreography, remember? The rule of thumb?

I liked making dances. I could be all arty and weird and tell people to do things like FLAIL FASTER and EMBODY THE TREE and the pieces that I came up with were great to watch and fun to make. But if I did it now, if I had to hire dancers and hire a space to rehearse and a space to perform, I would pretty much be spending all my time and money on making dances. So I make writing instead. It is cheap. But it isn't fast for me either.

So, that just took me 2 hours. Sigh.

But what I really wanted to tell you is that the other night I was sleeping and it was great because it took me awhile to get to sleep so I was really happy and felt like I was doing a good job of it but then it was great no longer because I got awakened by my son, Everet, who woke me up by yelling

MOM!

And I pretended I didn't hear him.

And then he yelled another word

BAT!

And then my heart sank and I wished I could shrink down really small in my bed or make myself invisible by squinting my eyes up real tight. But no, I can't do any of that as I am the grown up. Being the grown up means that when my son, Everet, yells that there is a bat in the house, it is my job to get up and do something about it.

So, I pull myself out of bed. I go downstairs.

Everet has the situation well in hand.

He is wearing a pair of white evening gloves. ??? (Should I be worried?) He has goggles on. There is a shirt wrapped around his head, a scarf protecting his face and he is brandishing a PVC pipe. He looks crazed, in an insane cross-dressing bat-killing kind of way.

"What do you plan to do with that pipe?" I ask.

"Beat it to death."

"Put that down," I say.

We sneak around the downstairs real quiet-like, spying for the bat.

We find it hanging from a window sill trying to be all nonchalant, like, "I'm a bat and I am all wrapped up in my wings, hanging here upside down in my special bat way which makes me invisible so you can just move along because there is nothing to see here." And it was actually kinda cool in an Addam's Family kind of way and for a minute I wished I were right then and there having a Halloween party instead of doing what I usually do on Halloween which is turn out all the lights and hide in my bed, willing the trick-or-treat-ers to go away with my mind. My Halloween party guests would like the bat. "Very realistic," they would tell me.

We devise a plan. I hit the bat with a broom and the bat falls to the floor and then flies up and nose dives behind a pile of laundry while we shriek alot. After all the shrieking, we manage to trap the bat under a overturned basket.

Job well done. We congratulate ourselves.

Then the bat began to echo-locate which means it made creepy bat sounds and then it tried to escape by sticking its wing under the edge of the basket. More shrieking. Much more shrieking.

Did I tell you that bats freak me out? Apparently it is hereditary.

Anyhow, after we stopped shrieking, we managed to scoot the basket and bat all the way to the back door. Then we opened the door and kicked the bat and basket out, which made us feel all successful again until we realized that the basket had landed overturned on the bat, meaning that we were going to have to open the door and free the bat and then close the door real fast so that the bat didn't fly back in the house.

Yes, fly. They fly, people. That is what makes bats so freaky. The fly all erratically and swoop and I am pretty sure that they build nests in people's hair especially if their hair is naturally curly and beautify and shiny like mine is and if that happens you pretty much die of fright.

In the end, we watched the bat fly into the night sky and felt pretty good about the whole thing. No one died of fright. The bat wasn't harmed. And the whole ordeal took ten minutes or less.

It took me 2 hours to fall back to sleep.


And it took me 2 1/2 days to write this.


Happy Halloween.







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The Halloween season is upon us again. And with this holiday comes another annual event- the reprinting of the Message From the Sunshine Day School. Since writing this piece I have done an internet search for 'Sunshine Day School' and have discovered that there are more than a few schools with this name. The Sunshine Day School in this post, however, is fictional, which means that as much as you would like to, you will not be able to enroll your child. And believe me, you are going to want to. Enjoy.
Here at The Sunshine Day School, our holistic approach to education includes a deep concern for the social, emotional, and intellectual well being of your child. We have observed that what the children eat for snacks and lunch has a profound effect on their learning and behavior here at school. Halloween is a time of year when it might be tempting to bring unhealthy snacks to school. With that in mind we would like to remind you of The Sunshine Day School policy for snacks and lunch.

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