Guest Blogger Formalda Hyde on Death and Sauerkraut

Formalda Hyde
– From her toxic lips to your smoldering ears –

I thought I would die but then somebody else did — The fella at the market in frozen foods, or cryogenic microwaveables, as I like to call them. 


His name was Sy. It was obvious why, because Sy liked to sigh

He got my attention with a huff of breath and a classic pick up line. 

“What’s your favorite frozen dinner?” he asked.

“Anything that won’t make me glow in the dark.”

“Was that a joke?” he gasped.

“No, read the label.”

“I will now,” he said and grabbed a box from the shelf, a frozen Bratwurst dinner. “I guess I should always read the fine print.”

“Why do you think it’s called fine?” I said.

“Wow! That’s deep.”

I made an attempt to coerce him across the aisle. “Have you tried the frozen deep dish pizza on the other side?”

“Not yet,” Sy sighed. “Though it looks tempting

It all looks tempting until you nuke it and steam explodes from plastic like a radioactive cloud.”

Then suddenly he extended a hand to me. “I’m Sy,” he said with a waft of sour breath.

I blocked his breath with a box of Chef Boyardee. “I thought so,” I said. “You sigh like a Sy.”

“Is there something wrong?He gasped

I took two steps backward and lowered the Chef Boyardee. “It’s the Bratwurst casserole and musty mouth fumes …. I have an aversion to German sausage and sauerkraut.” I said. “My great grandmother survived a Nazi death camp where she often spent her summer vacations.”

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “Yet that’s truly amazing. How did you know I just had a hot dog and sauerkraut?” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I said.

“You are a cracker,” he chuckled.

“What kind of a cracker?” I pressed. “I’m partial to Ritz and cheddar snacks.”

“You are wacky wonderful.”

Not the words I wanted to hear. “Try the rat poison in aisle 9.” I said. “I think you’ll really like it.” Then I walked away, as he released one last convulsive breath.

“Thanks,” he yelled. “I will. And I don’t have to nuke it, so, I won’t get cancer.”

That was the last time I saw Sy sigh. He drank the rat poison right in aisle 9 and collapsed in his cart on top of a 48-pack of beer and the Bratwurst casserole.

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As the Spam Turns – Tales from Nigeria

SIERRA MADRE, CA - MAY 29:  Seventieth anniver...Image by Getty Images via @daylife

-A long distance phone call off a short Nigerian pier-
Hello Friend. Please excuse my English. I learned it from watching reality TV. How are you doing today including your work, I hope all is well with you.
I’m fine. but my work is not.  Maybe you haven’t heard. The U.S. economy sucks, but I’m being rude. What did you say your name was?
Before I proceed I will like to introduce my self very well to you. My name is Mrs. Vivian Salife; I was born in South Africa but I work and live in West Africa, I am 32 years old. I worked with the Union Bank of Nigeria Plc as the Senior Accountant In my branch.

Ah. Yes. Vivian. It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you or Samuel. How is he?
I am a widow to late Samuel Salife, my husband died as a result of political gang up in the nation and after the death of my husband things became very much difficult for me and my only son Ali who is critical sick in the hospital right now Suffering from heart problem that needed to go through surgery operations as the doctor confirms.
Oh God! What a horrible run on sentence and terrible news about Sammy’s demise. My heart goes out to you about Ali’s health problems. Also, what exactly is a political gang up? Does it have anything to do with hookers? It must have been devastating.
This made me to run into a serious dept with my bank and many other people helped me to make sure that I saved his life.
Do you mean dept (short for department) or debt (short for insufficient funds)? How many people are helping you save Ali’s life – half of North America – and what is the money being used for?
All this money was been paid as part of deposit to the hospital where my son Ali is taking an emergency treatment.
Can you be more specific? —
Please dear I really needed your assistance in this business which I will introduce you into now so I can save the life of my only son through this business.
Ah. So, he’s the only son of Sam. What can I do to help? I bet it has something to do with oil and a Nigerian bank.
There is a man his name is Mr. Ziya Bazhayev, he is doing a contract with Chevron and Shell Oil Company in South East zoon in Nigeria as an Oil Barron.
Where exactly is South East Zoon? And how can I get a job as an Oil Barron?  Haven’t seen that job posted yet on Craigslist. But please tell me more about this man.
This man made a deposit of 6.2 million dollars in our bank branch before he died, beside am his personal accountant when he was making this deposit in our bank branch through my desk.
That is such sad news about this man, which I assume is a nickname for Ziya. I’m so sorry that everybody you know is either dead or dying. Poor this man.
(Crying and blowing nose in my ear)
this man have been so good to me when he do visit our bank and he is the President of the Oil Alliance Company, he died on Yak-40 aircraft, on a charter flight from Moscow to Kiev on March 9,2000.
Why did you let him into the vault so soon after Sammy’s death? That can’t be good for Ali’s heart. And, why was the Yak-40 aircraft named after a wild ox? No wonder the plane went down. Unless, it was because of an active fund. They emit ash clouds that can clog airplane engines.
Moreover this fund has been dormant in his account with our Bank without any claim of the funds in our custody and the banking law here stipulates that if such money remains unclaimed for nine years, it will be forfeited to the Bank treasury as an unclaimed bill it is only a foreigner that can stand as a next Of kin.
Only a foreigner or next of kin can claim the money? Which one am I? Are we related? If so, when is your birthday? I’d like to send a card.
My dear I want to seek your permission to have you stand in as next of kin to our late customer so that this fund will be released and paid into your account as the rightful beneficiary’s Next Of kin now that the bank is still expecting a Next Of Kin to come claim the fund. I have all the information about this man which will help us in this business.
Do you need my bank info? I’d be happy to give it to you since I am a foreigner, as well as a long lost relative. Just tell me how I can help. Btw, do you ever use punctuation?
What I want you to do is to stand as the next of kin, you don’t need to come down here my dear, all you need is to follow my instructions so that we can work as one.
Thank goodness because I’m broke. Oops! I blew my cover. I was trying to get your bank account info, too. After all, we share the same DNA. Is that the same as DNR but with a different letter? Speaking of which, how can I find out more about the plane crash?
You can equally read more news about the plane crash on these Websites,
Thanks for the link. What will my cut be on this?
You will get 40% of this money as soon as it gets into your account and I will come over with my only son Ali so you can help me fine a very nice hospital where I can treat him.
I’ll make up the guest room for you. Can’t wait to meet you and Ali.
I wish to hear from you the moment you might have finish reading this massage.

I could really use a massage. Email scams make me tense.
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Odd Facts and Observations about Dogs


Jake is from West Virginia and enjoys hunting and air sex.

Jenny is from Puerto Rico and enjoys opening latches on fences and is also an illegal immigrant. I wonder if there is a connection.

Jake is not a rocket scientist. Please refer to the above photo and the exceptionally wide grin on his face, as well as the George W. Bush look in his eyes.  If Jake could speak anything other than “woof,” this is what he would say:

“There’s an old saying in Tennessee West Virginia — I know it’s in Texas, probably in Tennessee West Virginia — that says, fool me once, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can’t get fooled again.” – George W. Bush.

Jake enjoys chewing on small rocks and dining on dirt, as does Jenny, who is a dirt connoissewer. I just learned this fact yesterday when I was walking Jenny in the yard. Jenny also has bad knees and sees an orthopedist. She just had knee surgery and wears this hat sometimes, which reminds me of a vacuum cleaner.

Jenny Eating Lunch

Why do dogs eat dirt? Is it the texture, the aroma, or the nutritional value? It’s got lots of minerals. Maybe it tastes like chicken. I have no idea. It remains a mystery to me, as does a dog‘s preference in hors devours, when sampling crepe, uh, er, crap from the cat tray.

Dogs love to eat cat poop, a delicacy, as well as anything they find on the floor, which brings me to the next point.

A dog is as intelligent as a two year oldProbably not Jake. That’s what I read in an article, aptly entitled, Dogs’ Intelligence On Par With Two-Year-Old Human, Canine Researcher Says.

“Although you wouldn’t want one to balance your checkbook, dogs can count.”

I can’t balance a checkbook or count.

If you’re a parent of a two-year old or a twenty-one year old, who once was two, then you know that a two-year old will put anything in his/her mouth. They also crawl on all fours, like a dog, and poop in the house, unlike a dog. Most dogs poop outside unless you forget to take him/her for a walk after a second cup of coffee. Then the dog will poop in the house in a highly-trafficked area.

Dogs don’t really drink coffee. But they like to emulate humans, as indicated below.

Another interesting fact about dogs. They have elbows and knees. I discovered this the first time Jake sat on my lap and stuck his pointy elbow into my ribs. He also weighs 45 pounds – could lose a pound or two – and is clearly not a lap dog. But he doesn’t understand the concept of weight and its relationship to pain. Remember the smile.

I didn’t know that dogs even had knees until Jenny busted hers. Jenny is also ADD and very active. I think she might have busted her knee while body slamming Jake against a wall. Maybe that’s why Jake isn’t intelligent. Too many head slams against the wall.

Do you know any interesting facts about dogs? Do you even like dogs?

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Guest Post on 2012 DVD at Blazing Minds – The Actors Look Smaller on TV!

Buy Mor Cow Poop at the NC State FairImage by joanna8555 via Flickr

While watching the movie 2012 on DVD, I had time to compile a marketing list, as well as to ponder the weak plot points – the movie goes on a bit (2 hrs, 38 min).

So, I decided to write a review. It’s not an ordinary review because my mind doesn’t like to follow rules and instead spews random nonsense words onto my laptop screen.

As a matter of fact, I have no say in the creative process until the final edit. If my mind objects to any of my editorial decisions, I threaten it with eviction, and that always shuts it up.

So, please check out my guest post at Karen’s incredibly entertaining and informative site Blazing Mindsshameless pimping and self-promotion – and let me know what you think. No percussive cussing at the site please, as it is rated “G” for ggggggreat! – Just ask Tony the Tiger.

Actually, the “G” that I refer to means General Audiences, which would probably eliminate most of you, as there is nothing generic about any of you. You’re all perfectly nuanced human beings.

And if you can’t restrain yourselves at Karen’s site, please comment and pimp – nothing illegal – before you get the boot. Thanks!!!!

Note: Blazing Minds is a British site, so the word “boot” means an automobile trunk and not … a kick or a covering of leather, rubber, or the like, for the foot and all or part of the leg or – the American meaning.

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WTF Did the Cashier Say Now?

Register is ClosedImage by sgroi via Flickr

The female cashier at the Stop and Shop had a voice like Bea Arthur and a body like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. I got a nosebleed just looking up at her.


While I tossed items from the cart onto the conveyor belt, I listened to Cara Cashier ring them up.

“Sorry about your corns,” says Cara.

I glance to my right and see Cara holding a slim yellow package of Dr. Scholl’s corn removers.

“Girl, I know all about corns.”

Are you a friggin disciple of Dr. Scholl?

“Yes, they suck.” I reply.

“Had my share of them while earning my doctorate in cashology…”

You must have studied above Professor Buttinsky.

 “…And being on my feet all day.”

An unlikely feat with one foot always stuck in your mouth.

I hand her a cat food coupon.

“I see you have a cat.”

I enjoy eating cheap pâté.

“Yes, I do,” I say.

“My cat is smart and works for a living. He gets paid a dollar for every mouse he catches.”


“My cat is smart and is a freeloader.”

“I can see your cat coming in here with a coupon,” Cara says.

Time for a visit to the opthamologist.

Suddenly, another cashier speaks out. “Hey Cara. Do you think Mario will make the announcement soon?”

Announcement? Is it shove the cashier’s head in the register day?

“Hey Mario!” Screams Miss Foot in the mouth. “Is it time to make the announcement?”

Behind the help desk, Mario smiles, picks up the microphone, taps it several times, and says, “The supermarket will be closing in thirty-minutes.”

Blue-haired shoppers panic. Carts collide. Lobsters snap rubber bands and attack counter clerks.

Cashiers snap open beer cans.

As Cara hands me my card, she yells, “Take care of those corns now.”

Everyone turns to look at me. I cover my head with a recyclable shopping bag, smash my cart through an aisle-block at the door, and escape, hobbling away, at breakneck-speed, with my bags of groceries and one slim yellow package of Dr. Scholl’s corn removers.

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