Posted in Pun Lists

I find this humorous

BigHeadRuinsTheDayAnyone who knows my husband knows he’s constantly making puns. Constantly. 90% of the puns don’t end up here–mostly because I don’t think about it, but also because if I took the time to write down all of his puns I’d have no time for doing things like making supper or doing laundry. There’s just that many. Also, a lot of his puns overlap.

A few weeks ago, we went to Schlitterbahn, a local water park. My husband spent an hour while we waited for our ride telling human-body themed puns. I didn’t write them down at the time, but I am now. Enjoy. Feel free to smack your head against the wall.

How many puns can you think of? Let me know what I missed!

Human Body Themed Puns

  • This will be a lengthy list, but don’t worry. It won’t be weighty.
  • My husband came up with a bunch of these off the top of his head.
  • I have to be careful not to complement him otherwise he’ll get a big head.
  • There’s no one cornea than him.
  • I also have to be careful not to give him a leg up in the world. He already stands ahead of the crowd.
  • He has a real eye for puns, I’ll give him that much. He can really sniff them out.
  • He really nose his stuff.
  • It doesn’t take long to get into it. He already has his foot in the door.
  • I hope I don’t put my foot in my mouth.
  • I hope you can stomach all these puns.
  • If your ears start to bleed then you might kneed to head out. Staying might cost you an arm and a leg.
  • I’m sure you’ll survive by the skin of your teeth.
  • There was a pregnant pause while we came up with more puns.
  • Its not every day that I need his help. I usually don’t have to reach far.
  • Who nose how many puns he can come up with? If he keeps his chin up it won’t be difficult.
  • We probably shouldn’t make two more puns. Three more on the other hand . . . . telling jokes isn’t cool.
  • Coming up with puns is a hard burden to shoulder if you can stomach it.
  • Coming up with puns is easy. You just have to put your back into it.
  • However, anyone can knuckle under this kind of pressure.
  • How many are enough? We’ll just have to eyeball it.
Posted in Pun Lists, writing

A Weak Week of Puny Puns

In spite of the title, it has not been a weak week for puny puns. In fact, it has been quite a fruitful week for puns. But that’s what happens when both my brother and my husband gang up on me while on hour-long car-rides.

This week we went through not one but but three pun-offs, each easily lasting thirty minutes. One was tree-themed, another bean/seed themed, and the third was about fences. I wish I could remember half the puns, but there was no way I could withstand the deluge. There was simply too many.

That does not mean I didn’t enjoy myself. I did. It has been much too long since I’d had a long visit with my brother.

Normally, this is where I would attempt to recreate the conversations we had, but I just don’t have the attention span to do it. Not only is it difficult to recreate something that just naturally happens in the course of conversation, but it’s difficult to write when you don’t want to write. And I’ll be frank. I don’t want to write. Besides, if I tried  to recreate the conversations, it would consist of puns you’ve all heard before and me just banging my head against my desk saying to my husband, “oh please, enough already!”

I would much rather be reading instead of writing. There is, right at this very moment, a book in front of me. It’s an anthology, written by R.A. Salvatore, Book One of The Legend of Drizzit. My sister has a box full of books by him, and she’s lent them to me. And yes, they’re good. And no, I don’t want to put it down.

The books weren’t what I expected. I’ve read three so far, and I’m enjoying them immensely. They are fantasy books, straight out of someone’s Dungeons and Dragon’s adventure stories. They are full of action and very well written, but I will say this–don’t go reading the books out of order. You won’t get near as much out of it otherwise.

I am excited to be reading these books. R.A. Salvatore is a prolific author. His books take up entire bookcases in many bookstores. And Dungeons and Dragons, as a game and as a realm, has contributed a lot to the fantasy genre. I am looking forward to learning as much as I can from Mr. Salvatore, and hope to improve my own writing.

Posted in daily life, Pun Lists, writing

How to Work when You Don’t Want to Work

Ever wonder what a day in the life of a writer is like?

Well, let me enlighten you. This is a day in the life of a writer. My general to-do list.

  1. Push snooze for an hour.
  2. Take a shower and kick husband out of bed. It’s time for him to go to work. But you–you take your time getting dressed. After all, you’re not earning a paycheck.
  3. Eat cereal, check email and surf the internet for an hour while watching HGTV.
  4. Prepare your work space. This involves clearing the kitchen table and getting your notes from wherever you stashed them–such as the dryer.
  5. Remember you forgot to start the laundry. Start a load.
  6. Throw away something. Notice the trash needs taking out. Notice you’re still wearing your pjs.
  7. Put on that ratty outfit so you can go take out the trash. You know the outfit I’m talking about–the one that should be in that bag of trash you’re throwing away. Now you really must do some work.
  8. Sit down in front of your computer. Put on some music. Read up on the chapter before to remind yourself of what you need to write today. Put your hands on the keyboard–and realize your hands are most uncomfortably dry.
  9. Repeat step 8. Realize that your hands are now too greasy, on account of having too much lotion. Wash hands.
  10. Repeat step 8. Get a story idea for something else and write it down.
  11. Make lunch/breakfast for husband.
  12. Make lunch/breakfast for self.
  13. Repeat step 3.
  14. Clean kitchen.
  15. Repeat step 8. Admit to self that you have run out of other stuff to do, and actually start writing.
  16. Write.
  17. Make husband do supper. Little Tiffany is being chased by trolls and you simply must finish the scene.
  18. Finish scene.
  19. Blink, realize it’s bedtime and your back hurts and your eyes are gritty. You want to continue writing, but your husband takes your laptop away from you. He then bribes you to bed with a back rub. It works.
  20. Repeat steps 1-19 tomorrow. Have fun and good night.
Posted in Pun Lists

My Husband is the Butt of Many Jokes

dsc01552Two years ago this June (June 14th, 7:30pm, in the Alamo Cafe) my husband asked me to marry him. It is a day I will never forget. He’d snuck my family down from Arkansas, and we spent all week hanging out, eating home cooked meals, and acting like tourists. It was a week full of wooing and romance, full of family and excitement.

This picture, by the way, is a picture of my ring.

But that isn’t the only reason I’ll remember that week. In addition to hanging out with family and making wedding plans, we also went to the hospital. For an, “abscessed buttocks.” Yes, somehow or another, my husband managed to get an sore on his butt. The sore got infected, sent his temperature skyrocketing, and him to the hospital.

But . . . but . . . butt

You could say he was a pain in the butt.

But you see, he just couldn’t take this situation sitting down.

So he became the butt of many jokes.

His humor really sticks. I really shouldn’t spread it around.

He sometimes talks about of his butt. Indeed, his degree is a BS.

Michael’s Humor

Actually, he usually doesn’t stoop so low for a laugh. On that day, the jokes just kept rolling off the tongue, so much so that he had the nurses alternatively laughing or shooting him, “you’re weird,” glances.

He believes that potty humor is the lowest form of humor. After all, you’re not going to find one, “you’re butt’s so big,” joke here. But he is a child at heart, so if someone farts–well, he says it all depends on the context. Given the right setting, he just might view it as a competition, in which case he’ll probably win, since he has no sense of smell.

That lack of smell sometimes helps with my cooking. After all, unless he’s in the same room, he can’t tell when I’ve burnt supper, or when I’m cooking period. It makes surprising him (with food) easy. Easier.

But my husband loves puns. And he has a brain that is as big as Europe. I never try to get into a pun-off with him. I always loose.


Posted in Uncategorized

Stay at Home Wife: What is That?

So you’ve heard of the term stay-at-home mom, right? Well, I don’t have any kids yet, and I don’t have a job, so I guess that makes me a stay-at-home wife. Except that I’m at home less than my husband is.

My husband works from home. He spends his days glued to his computer, typing out code and chasing down cyber bugs. (He also spends a portion of his nights and weekends zapping space aliens.) Michael doesn’t have to leave home for anything other than church and fast food.

driving carMe? I’m the stay at home wife who doesn’t stay home. I’m the one running to the grocery store, going to ladies bible class, going to writers critiques. I’m the one who takes the car to get it’s oil changed or its tires fixed. I’m the one running to the gym or playing violin with the orchestra. I get to go to the bank or gas station. I get to do all kinds of chores, and indulge in all kinds of hobbies, while my husband is stuck at home with the cat who likes to sit on keyboards.

Now, don’t think I’m complaining. I love having Michael home. And I love being in a position where I don’t have to work, where I get to have the time to indulge in my hobbies and pursue my dreams. But sometimes I get tired on running around.

Which is why I’m spending my first free Saturday in a month . . . working my butt off to write a dozen blog posts, clean out the litter box, take out the trash, clean the bathroom, doing dishes, and making homemade pizza. Oh, and exercise for an hour so I don’t gain all the weight back that I just lost this week.

Then again, it is Saturday. Maybe I can get Michael to handle the poo and the trash . . . .

Posted in Uncategorized

My Husband is Turning me into a Zombie

Dreams are Weird.

What is it about our dreams that makes us remember them? Why do we dream about some things but not others? Do our dreams have meaning? When I was twelve I read a book about interpreting dreams. It listed all kinds of things and told how they could symbolize different things, and what they could symbolize. I can’t remember anything from it now, but it was interesting.

But was any of it true? I don’t have a clue. I just know that dreams are weird.

zombieFor example, the other night I had a dream that I was killing zombies with swords. It was kinda gruesome and weird, because I usually don’t dream stuff like that. That would be my husband, who regularly dreams he’s a video game character killing stuff. So when he dies in his dreams, he just comes back to life.

Of course, that same night he dreamed that I’d left him. That usually would have been my shtick.

This morning I dreamed I was running/jumping/flying across town back in Arkansas. I think I was being chased by something, but I was having too much fun to care much. I also had a sentient glove that was helping me fly, so in reality I was being dragged all over town by my flying glove. Which then it proceeded to infect my body rather than being parted with me, so in the end I became a cyborg. And that dream was strangely comforting.

The flying/being chased thing–yeah, typical me dream. The cyborg? All Michael.

I think I’ve been around him too much. We’re switching dreams.

Maybe that’s what my dreams have been trying to tell me–that Michael’s turning me into a cyborg. Or a zombie.

Posted in Uncategorized

Things I Never Would Have Done Before

Michael and I have a habit of watching TV while we eat supper. Most of the time, we end up streaming cartoons or movies on the internet, due to the lack of decent, wholesome things to be found on the boob tube. We tend to favor cartoons. Lately, though, we’d come to the end of our list of things to watch. This has not been the first time this has happened. Usually we just watch something else. Other times we watch something random.

Which  is how I found myself watching The Simpsons for the first time in my life.

As I sat there, listening to the sarcasm and wisecracks–and laughing–it occurred to me that I wouldn’t have been doing this if I hadn’t met Michael. That led me to this list.

Things I Never Would Have Done On My Own

  1. Watch Anime, specifically Full Metal Alchemist and Trigun
  2. Watch The Simpsons
  3. Learn to Drive Long Distance/Navigate/Read Maps (I still haven’t learned to read maps accurately, though.)
  4. Leave Arkansas
  5. Eat Box Meals
  6. Move to Texas
  7. Get a Credit Card
  8. Get a Nice Car
  9. Play Video Games
  10. Get a Cat
  11. Live in an Apartment
  12. Eat Mexican Food
  13. Live in a BIG CITY
  14. Watch every episode of a half dozen DC Superhero TV shows
  15. Drive down Bat Cave Road in search for Batman (no luck 😦 We didn’t even find Wayne Manor)
Posted in Uncategorized

My Husband is the Biggest Ham You’ll Ever Meat

seafood restaurant picSo, about two weeks ago, Michael and I decided to have fish for supper. We found this little place called Clear Springs Seafood, and chowed down on some excellent fried onions, mushrooms, fish, crawdadds with all the fixin’s.

What got us really rolling, however, wasn’t the food (although after we got done eating we needed a wheel barrow to roll ourselves out of there). It was their sign, which said, “catfish seafood steaks.”

Now, the sign clearly needed some commas, but since I was cold and tired, I didn’t realize this. I thought they were serving catfish steaks, and wondered what exactly that would be?

That thought launched this list of animal-based puns.

cowsAnything that is not cow is a mistake.

Would you steak your reputation on it?

Depends on how high the steaks are raised.

Be careful what puns you use, I might steak you in the heart.

Don’t have a cow. I have no beef with you.

deerThis looks like a poultry list of puns to me.

You can tell puns until your horse.

There’s mutton butter than a few puns.

Oh deer.

Tell me venison.

I don’t want the post to be too shrimpy, but I don’t want it to have a pork belly either.

Funny what you can think of when your pigging out.

black pigI never sausage a thing.

Some of these jokes may be a bit fishy to you.

I don’t know if you have the chops to hear it.

I hope I can tell enough jokes to keep your blog abreast.

I have a leg up. The thigh’s the limit.

Don’t be too sheepish to reply.

Some of you might think I’m looking these up on line but that’s a load of bull.

Do you like me with a full beard or a goatee? I had to worm that one in somehow.

mushroomAnd bonus pun, because my husband is such a fungi: there’s not going to be mush room in my stomach after this.


Did I miss any? Let me know! And please join me next week for, “

Posted in Uncategorized

My Husband Speaks A Different Language Than Me

Several, in fact.

Computer languages. He speaks several computer languages. Not Greek or French or Spanish. He couldn’t speak Spanish if his life depended on it–though I’m pretty sure he could learn it in a quarter of the time it would take me if he wanted to, the show off. He’s just that smart. And I have a minor in Spanish, too.

Michael is a software engineer. Computer programmer. A shooter of trouble (in more ways than one). If it has to do with a computer, then he can do it. Give him a pile of computer parts and he could put it together and make it dance. So naturally of course he speaks several computer languages and dialects–5 languages, he has told me, and about 6 dialects.

He works from home, nowadays. And some time during the day, he’s on Skype with either his coworker or his clients/boss, talking shop.

Now, I’ve been married to him for over a year now. Furthermore, I have a little brother just like him. I think I can understand about as much shop talk as I can Spanish. The rest of the time? I feel something like this:

where do I plug this in

He assures me that with enough time and proper teaching, I, too, can learn to program.

I don’t believe him.



Like that? Join me next time when I talk about, “Our Resolution Contract.”

Posted in Uncategorized

Bathroom Scales are Evil

Me, like every other woman on the planet, have been fighting a war against the bathroom scale for several years now. I try to eat healthy, hide the snacks so I forget about them and don’t eat them, and try to keep eating out for special occasions (like Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sundays).

bathroom scaleI drag myself out of bed and exercise–walk 2 miles along windy and exhaust-fume laden quiet neighborhood streets– three to five days a week.

I keep the tiny apartment clean, take out the trash and empty the litter box.

I play my violin and drive places.

I work out.

And yet the scale will not tell me what I want to hear: “You have lost thirty pounds! Congratulations and good luck with your next thirty!” If I’m lucky it will say: “your weight has not changed since the last time you stepped on me.”  If I’m even unluckier?

Now, take my husband. He is a male, and that immediately gives him a leg up. He has way more natural energy than I do, which gives him another leg up–which he doesn’t need, since he already towers over me.

Michael doesn’t have to do much to lose weight. He can exercise for twenty minutes three times a week, and after two months will have lost twenty pounds. In the mean time, he can find and eat all of those snacks I have hidden, have about five servings of chicken Parmesan and half a liter of Dr. Pepper for every meal.

Over the Christmas holiday he exercised maybe three times in one week, and then ate half an anglefood cake in one night–and still lost two pounds in one night.

(It was a very good angelfood cake, and homemade to boot. If we hadn’t eaten it we would have had to throw it away, and that would have been a shame.)

Two pounds! And he ate half an angelfood cake? How did that happen? And why can’t it happen to me???

This is why scales are evil. I hate them. They should all be nuked and thrown away and never be made again.


Enjoy that? Join me next time when I talk about, “My Husband Speaks a Different Language Than Me.”