The Top 10 Belly Button Adventures You Never Knew Existed!
Ah, the belly button. That enigmatic tiny dimple that, up until now, none of us has really paid any attention to! With these ten belly button experiences that will make you chuckle, scratch your head, and possibly feel a bit sick, get ready to be astounded by the mysteries of the navel. Now let's get started!
“Psssssttt. How many bad words do you know?” Izaak’s six-year-old voice whispers during reading time. “You don’t have to say it out loud. Just show, with your fingers,” he points to his left hand.
The Politically Correct Fairy Tale
(Warning: This Story Is Not For The Humorously Challenged). Once upon a time. In a kingdom far, far away. 'The Council of Good Morals And Interesting Discussions' decided to buy real estate up on the flat topographic plains of the world. This land was far cheaper than their economically challenged land from low. And therefore, they decided to buy it.
Twelve Things You Need To Know About Dating Me.
Well, I guess we all have quirks, and yes, sadly, you can't date me because I am married! Oops! I just thought I'd let you know.
"I'm Still On The Loo!"
So, I'm sitting here feeling the waves of salty sea flushing through my body, though I am sure I'm not a fish swimming in the sea. Squeezing my thighs so hard that I think my pelvic floor muscles are going to fall out any time soon, I bang on the door and shout,
You've heard of puppy love...
Maggie sat slumped on the sofa, her feet resting on the velvet ottoman as she lazily swiped through Tinder. She let out a long sigh in regards to the pathetic prospects that danced across her phone screen, illuminating the dark living room. About an hour earlier out of sheer boredom, she had made up a drinking game to coincide with her idle swiping. She took a swig of her cheap wine everytime someone mentioned The Office in their bio, when they were holding a fish, if they were named Jason or Ryan, or if they had a list of demands in their bio. When she decided she wasn’t getting drunk fast enough, she decided to just drink something about their profile in general made her physically recoil.
I Am Book at the Bottom of Your TBR Pile
At least one morning a week, I rock side to side to knock us all over, startling you awake and hoping you’ll forget that I’m always at the bottom of your TBR pile that never stops growing.
Thoughts About Cindy
Cindy turned ninety two weeks ago. It was just another day for her though. She went into the lounge and all the flowers, about 28 bouquets, that arrived from friends, family, acquaintances and associates, beautifully decorated her home. She asked one of her staff members, "have you ever seen anything like this?' She was certainly flattered to receive so many bouquets. He politely said no, although what he actually thought was 'yeah, at a funeral'.
Satire News Story- Joe Biden’s Zombie Transformation
This article provides a humorous take on current events by depicting President Joe Biden’s transformation into a zombie and the comedic portrayal of public perception.
In a family from generation to generation, great-grandfather, grandfather, father and daughter all used to survive by doing medicine. Finally a grandson went around the town without noticing it. Then one day he came back and thought that we can also cure and survive, so he searched for old medicines. He found only one bundle of haritaki seeds and came to the conclusion that he would have to survive on this. But he himself did not know what haritaki would do.
When I was about 10 years old I ran away from Girl Scout camp. Let’s bounce back to the summer of 1971. It was hot and steamy. For whatever reason someone thought it was a great idea to send us city gals to an overnight camp in the middle of the forest on in the outskirts of Pittsburgh. It was not. Our Girl Scout troop was not like the others. I am certain of that. Our Scout leader was far too “fly” to have been a leader anywhere else except in North Braddock, Pennsylvania in the 1970s. When we needed to raise money for our troop, we would have blue light in the basement parties and sell cans of Faygo for a quarter and hot dogs for one dollar, or perhaps have a bake sale from time to time. We sold Girl Scout cookies at that time of the year and whatnot, but nothing about our troop was status quo. So there we were. Four city girls in a tent in the woods. None of us adequately prepared. We had sleeping bags that our parents had grabbed on sale at the local Hills department store. Not the kind that are suitable for camping mind you but the cute kind that you take to a friends overnight in their living room. We didn't have any camping gear what so ever. Not even hiking boots. How were we supposed to know what was needed for a week long camping trip when no one in our families had any camping experience? After my first night in our tent, freezing in the woods in a pink cotton sleeping bag, I knew the outdoor life was not for me. This was my second attempt at sleeping under the stars. The first time, we pitched our tents for a Girl Scout overnight in a local park. I woke up at the bottom of the hill, lying completely exposed in my pink sleeping bag with the tent still in tact at the top of said hill. Imagine my 10 year old self waking up to the sun in my eyes and glancing backwards to find the tent, not over me but sitting atop my camping spot like a green maraschino cherry on an ice cream sundae. I was none to pleased. The situation only got worse as we were expected to shower in a concrete trough lined up in a row right there out in the open for world to see. Absolutely not! That should have been the end of it for me, but nooooo. My mother had signed me up for a week long camp mid-summer. I’m sure she was happy to have her break. Her joy did not spread to me. Back to camp " Not Having It ". I wake up at sunrise to my friend Della’s voice asking was there a spider on her? Her head is fully submerged into her sleeping bag. I could hear the fear in her quivering voice. I had not considered that we would wake up covered in spiders but now this is making sense. I glance around our tent and notice the flaps are rolled up. An excellent hiding place for spiders. I feel panic creeping into my sleeping bag right alongside the imaginary spiders. I quickly jump out of bed and do a quick inspection of all of our sleeping bags and announce that we are spider free. At least for now. By this time we need to go to the dining cabin for breakfast. I don't recall what was served but I remember that I was not impressed. We broke off into groups. Our group was directed to a cliff where we were going to repel ourselves over the side dangling from a rope. The instructor gave us a quick lesson of what were supposed to do and what NOT to do at all costs. It’s my turn first. I have always been very good at following directions and paying attention so I preformed well. I actually liked it. Another 2 girls follow suit. Now its Della’s turn. Needless to say she did everything that she was not supposed to do. After her first 2 steps over the ledge, paralysis sets in. She’s frozen like a statue. The instructor tells her to march Iike a soldier, then put your feet together and jump. Della makes some military marching sounds but to no avail. She marches 2 or 3 times and attempts to place her feet together to jump. Her foot slips and now she’s hanging upside down on the rope, as she swings back and forth, her head tapping lightly against the mountain side. She begins to panic. The instructors are actively trying to talk her through it. Finally someone repels down to aid her and get back to upright. By the time her feet kiss the ground she is covered in rope burns and embarrassment. This was not her best day. As we gather for lunch none of us are in our happy place. The camp counselors keep speaking of serving us “bug juice” which sounds not only disgusting to me but horrifying. I am frightened to death of insects. Especially the hoping kind. I refused to eat turkey as a kid because I read somewhere that they ate grasshoppers. So to drink a juice named after my worst nightmare was out of the question. After lunch we were told that our group would be in charge of cleaning up and washing dishes because our group failing at the rock repelling lessons. Huh? I didn’t. I quite enjoyed it. Now I’m expected to take one for the team? I did not sign up for any of this. Why did I have to pay for my friend’s upside down ? After lunch, we 4 city gals decided this entire camping thing was too much. This adventure was not for us. We went back to our tent, rolled up our gear and started our hike back home. After sliding down a nettled covered hillside, we found a highway and started the long walk home, in the blazing sun. We were running away from camp. Just about an hour and a half into our walk home we were caught. Our 4 brown faces were obviously missing or someone ratted us out. Probably the later. Now were in some counselor’s truck on our way back to camp. Nothing good was going to come of this. Nothing! Our punishment for trying to escape was to clean up everyday after meals for the remainder of our stay. The next 4 nights are a blur. I believe I’ve blocked that memory as a matter of simple survival. I blacked that part out from my memory as a coping mechanism. I hated every minute of it. To this day if someone mentions camping I cringe. That’s going to be a hard NO from me. Camping to me is a hotel without room service. Recently my good friend sent me a video of an outdoor experience and something about “glamping”. This luxurious experience with air beds and a few conveniences like coffee machines and a tv. I am still not going. No ma’am. Camping is not for everyone, and it is certainly not for me. No matter how you try to slap lipstick on that pig. Glamping. Camping. It’s all the same to me. Just call me the runaway, because I would certainly do it again. Did someone mention The Ritz?
A Fine Export of Canadian Comedy
Our neighbors to the North have given so much to us they gave us this wildly raucous comedy troupe from Ontario, Canada The Kids in The Hall. The troupe was presented to the world through Saturday Night Live Creator Lorne Michaels who is also from Canada with their own half hour comedy show appropriately titled “The Kids in The Hall”. From day one nothing has been a taboo in their comedy and nothing has ever been off limits. I like that because if they think they can go for it and get away and do anything to push the envelope then they will sure try.