Thursday, December 30, 2010

Multiple choice

 Go ahead, try to guess what's new with Larainy.






a.  She received a Porsche for Christmas







                                                                                                                                  image found here

b.  She received a pastel multipack of new underwear for Christmas






 
c.  She is wearing a black eye patch in honor of Rooster Cogburn after swooning over "True Grit"


   
                                       image found here





d. She has been wearing her Christmas moccasins 24 hours a day since the moment she tore open the package with her nimble greedy  fingers.








e.  She is sporting a new blog header designed by the talented Mr. Jim Hamilton of Hamilton Arts  






Dear reader, have you given up already?  

In order to preserve the air of mystery that swirls about Larainy, veiling her in a protective mist of intrigue and sauciness...let's just say that only one of the above is completely out of the realm of possibility because Larainy doesn't like to drive a stick shift.


Thanks Jim, you're the best!

 


Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Eur Eek Ah!

Sometimes,

all it takes is one exploded bottle of balsamic vinegar
to figure out what color to refinish the kitchen cabinets.





Monday, December 27, 2010

Rescue by Armpit

Unlike my ex-bff Oprah, I do not go around spouting about all my "favorite things".  For example, when I purchase an exceptional toilet scrubber, I allow you, dear reader, the thrill of  search and discovery that only comes with autonomy. 


BUT

 I had to make an exception when I discovered this product.
 

With the use of my uncanny ability to read your mind I sense the question trembling on your winter-chapped lips...

What is so great about this deodorant? 

Dear reader, look closely and you will note that this special deodorant carries an ironclad promise of  
FRESH OXYGEN 
right there on the label.  Do you realize what this means?  If you apply a generous layer each morning, you have essentially turned each of your formerly useless underarms into a twin pair of lifesaving devices!

 Of course the first step to help an unresponsive victim 
would be chest compressions  which I am demonstrating here with my sweet little friend "ResusiAnnie"
 At this point ResusiAnnie is obviously not responding!!!


Immediately I proceed to step two. ResusiAnnie is positioned in the sheltering arch of my underarm that has been previously treated with a layer of FRESH OXYGEN


Sometimes it is necessary to grit your teeth and produce an extra burst of FRESH OXYGEN to fully revive your subject.

But don't give up!


Because nothing is going to make your day like saving a life with your FRESHLY OXYGENATED armpit.  Just look at the pink cheeks and happy smile on this grateful little gal.  She is probably grow up and name her first child after me.


Friday, December 24, 2010

A Present

This is my middle child.  His name is Max and as you can see by looking at his fists, he was raised on marshmallows.  He didn't grow into a cowboy, but into a fine musician who is writing beautiful music.






His song Cars Break Down is my Christmas gift to you.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Christmas With Joseph



It was the early 1980’s and an atmospheric Christmas Eve Blizzard was swirling through northern Arizona. My newly acquired husband and I drove from our home in Mesa into a winter wonderland. We were spending the holiday with my Mom and Dad and the rest of my ten  brothers and sisters still at home.

There were wood fires burning, and good baking smells filled the house. Gifts were being wrapped in the one bedroom with a door that locked ( ”Get out and close the door you peeping Tom!”) and presents were being squeezed, shaken and evaluated for weight under the Christmas tree. The youngest, brother and sister were tearing through the house at top speed and volume, screaming that they saw elves every time they heard a bell jingle. Older brothers obliged by furtively ringing bells at every opportunity.

Finally, chores were done and the Christmas Eve feast was almost ready. Through the steamed up front window, someone noticed the hitchhiker that was still standing in the front of the house at the edge of the highway leading out of town. Living in a house on the highway had brought many strangers to our home over the years. Inviting a hitchhiker to dinner was second nature to my dad.  He put on a coat and headed outside.

 Dad came in a few minutes later with a lanky man he introduced as Joseph. Joseph brushed the snow off his long dark hair and shoulders and greeted each of us, looking bewildered at the horde of children. He kept shaking his head and saying, “Wow!” He joined us for dinner at the long pine table, crowding in on the benches alongside us.

As food was passed and eaten, questions were asked and answered on both sides. He soon found out we were Mormons, and absorbed a little doctrine along with his mashed potatoes and gravy.  He enthusiastically told us about his personal quest: he was headed to Four Corners--to  the vortex in search of the bridegroom!”

It was our turn to say wow. This was a man on a spiritual mission of his own! He turned his head from one person to another as we ate and talked, enjoying the noisy conversation, nodding amiably. After dessert he was determined to press forward and said his goodbyes, going out to the edge of the driveway and sticking his thumb out once more. We watched him through the windows and several cars stopped. Each time he would lean in the window for a few minutes, and then straighten up and the car or truck would move on.

After a half hour or so he knocked on the door again. We opened it and found Joseph with his arms laden with plates of goodies, a layer of snow on his head. There had been no ride to Four Corners, but local people had stopped to check on him, and share a treat on their rounds to friends and neighbors. He shook his head and said, “This place is crazy, man.”

He agreed to spend the night and participated in our Christmas Eve program, watching the Nativity story acted out and singing songs with us. When the kids were packed off to bed, Joseph stretched out on the couch with a blanket and pillow. He was awoken at 3:00 a.m. by my brothers, who made sure they got the milking done very early, so they wouldn’t have to delay the opening of presents. They told him to go back to sleep for a few short hours, because no one slept in past 6:00 on Christmas morning.

There were a few presents for Joseph under the tree that morning, warm socks, and other items rounded up, or reapportioned. He seemed dazed by the early hour and the wild frenzy that only Santa Claus coming through can bring.

He caught a ride later that day and we never saw him again. But our family still remembers the
Christmas that Joseph came to stay at our family's Inn.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Party Hardy Family Style

Cheer up dear readers.  It is almost time to gather in an overheated living room to celebrate Christmas/Hanukkah/Winter Solstice/New Years with the family!

Why not be emotionally prepared this year?  In the spirit of giving, Larainy has gathered some tips for getting through your family gathering without a restraining order being filed.





Don't remark on cousin Frederick's weight gain, or ask why he is always wearing that silly grin.  Stephanie and the boys are humiliated enough by a brother that goes around with a tea cozy on his head.













When Aunt Eugenia approaches with a plate bearing a suspicious prickly orb surrounded by crackers and says, 
"Cheese Ball?"
don't assume that she is issuing a passive-aggressive challenge to the masculine family honor. 








Don't imagine that all Loretta and the kids want to eat is candy canes.  Can't you see that little Meagan's teeth are already rotting right out of her head?











Keep your eye on Wendell.  

That's all I'm going to say.

















Don't make the mistake of forgetting the names of your sister's kids again this year.  Repeat after me... Jayelle, Jay, Jayson, Jacie, Jade and Jaden













Bite your tongue and don't take the bait when Sherry sidles up to your husband and thanks him for the leather coat.  It's obviously vinyl.
















Practice diplomacy but watch Aunt Betty's foreign exchange students like a hawk.     Remember the family motto "Trust but Verify" while washing up the family silver.














When Alicia whips out her tutu and starts leaping over the coffee table and pirouetting into the Christmas tree, don't laugh when Uncle Fritz shouts, "Why don't you get to the point?"  It only encourages him.










Don't feel the need to point out the obvious about Merrianne's fiance.  Everyone already knows he was born on the wrong side of the tracks.


















When Grandma loses her glasses again, don't be so quick to accuse Clarissa.  She gets blamed for everything.

















all images found at here






Wednesday, December 15, 2010

You're Not the Boss of My Lips


My homicidal tendencies usually lie deeply latent, but during the heavy selling at Christmas by this guy...


my angry inner self rises to the top like foam on fresh eggnog.

If I see one more pathetic fakey couple smooching while someone croons "...every kiss begins with Kay", I am going to dust off my nunchucks and do some damage.

Now I hate to bite the hand that has a diamond in it, because personally I like sparklies, but my lips will not be held hostage by someone named Kay who makes the corniest, most pathetic gag-inducing advertising campaign on the planet.


And do you recognize Kay's top salesman?

Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman


She says she designed this


to look like "an open heart"

Well excuse me Dr. Quinn.  I know that you were trained in a one room medical school somewhere on the prairie, but that is no excuse for this pathetic rendition of man's finest organ.  If you consult your "Grey's Anatomy" you will find a couple other body parts your little trinket resembles much more closely.

Listen up Kay, whoever you are, and write this down so I don't have to repeat it.  

Every kiss of mine begins when I say it does!

 

Monday, December 13, 2010

Classic Christmas Titles



Editor's slush piles get even slushier at Christmas time, but I can't figure out why the following titles were allowed to melt into oblivion.


 Sarah Palin's Holiday Cooking: 
From Baked Alaska to Moose Mince Pie


How Rhinoplasty Changed My Life
By Rudolph the R.N.R.


The Santa Lifestyle Diet: 
364 Days of Indulgence Burned Off in One Long Night


Free At Last: My Escape From the North Pole
By Elvin Small 


Yes Virginia, There is A Payoff Clause In Your Credit Card Contract


Santa, The Easter Bunny & Social Security: 
Lies My Mother Told Me


No More White Christmas: The Dandruff Cure


Do You Hear What I Hear?
 Earwax Free and Loving It



Bourbon Balls: Memoir of a Fat Alcoholic











Wednesday, December 8, 2010

The Biggest Christmas Loser

image found here

It wasn't easy, dear readers, but I hacked into the top secret "motivational song" database of the popular reality show The Biggest Loser in order to bring you the motivational songs guaranteed to help you make it through the holidays unscathed by additional baggage.



Song #l is modified from and sung to the tune of  

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"


Have yourself a lowfat little Christmas
Let your treats be light
More whipped cream
Will only make your pants too tight
Have yourself a skimpy kind of Christmas
Deprive yourself this year
Those ten pounds do not
Equate to Christmas cheer

When you are at the grocery store
In the pastry aisle...again
Repeat to self  "These brownie bites
will give me an-oth-er chin"

Have yourself a lowfat little Christmas
Just lay off the chow
Or suffer infarction reaching for the highest bow
And have yourself a lowfat little Christmas now.


Song #2 is modified from the classic  

"Summertime"  from Porgy & Bess


Christmas Time, and the livin' ain't easy
Kids are jumpin'
And the prices is high.

Oh yo Daddy ain't rich
And yo Ma, she ain't either.
So cry lil' baby - go ahead and cry

One a these mornins, you gonna have to start wrappin'
Then you'll run outta tape
And have to break out the glue

But til' that mornin'
Jes keep a usin' you Visa
Cause it'll be a whole month
Til' that stinkin' bill comes due



Remember...

Your weight loss croon
Needn't be in tune
To enable you
To put down the spoon!





Monday, December 6, 2010

Sorting Hat Humiliation

As requested by our esteemed Director of Homeland Security, Janet Napolitano, Larainy has joined with millions of other freedom loving Americans by...

 
A) Accurately filling out the 2010 census, and 

B) Taking the “Harry Potter Sorting Hat Quiz” in order to find out which “house” I belong to. 



image found here



What this has to do with national security I don’t rightly know, but when Janet speaks, I listen…especially because she sounds like my high school gym teacher, Ms. Greta Fronske, who could bench-press 250 lbs. 



image found here

Sadly, the sorting hat quiz revealed that Larainy would not be welcome in the houses of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw or Slytherin. In fact, I couldn’t make it into Hogwarts even if I paid full tuition. 

Larainy is eligible only for a charter school called Verminbridge Prep, founded by Aurelius Verminbridge, a disgraced exotic animal veterinarian that was stripped of his license when he was caught flogging his unicorn using a viper as a riding quirt.

Now I don’t know whether you give a Bertie’s booger-flavor bean about Pottermania, but I take offense at being banished by a quiz to a Podunk slum school like Verminbridge Prep where students are trained only to perform support roles such as laundering Quidditch uniforms or picking up dragon droppings in Hagrid’s corral. And the “houses” are definitely sub par. There is no fancy talking hat to sort out your fate; students are assigned based on their favorite cheese.
These are the unappetizing options:

HOUSE                     COLORS                                  MASCOT

Slinkford                  Gray and Grey                           Weasel
Squeekin                  Mold and Puce                           Vole
Gutterpinge              Peagreen and Moss                   Tree shrew
Sludgingworth          Black and Smudge                     Fruit Bat
Chubling                  Yeast and Yellow                       Horned toad


Well, forget that stinking quiz. I intend to drop out and muggle my way through life without a wand.



P.S.  My dear readers, my blog is now available on Kindle.  Would you like to submit a review?  Go here and tell the world what you think



Friday, December 3, 2010

Straight From Larainy's Christmas Mailbox

Dear reader, I'm well aware that you are dying to sneak into my house and root through my stack of Christmas cards to see if I really did get one from Michael Buble like I told you I did.  I know I would jump at the chance to snoop through your mail to see if Donny Osmond really sent you a 7-page Christmas letter.   (Which I would follow up with a swift perusal of your medicine cabinet.) 


So, since curiosity killed the cat and I don't want any feline blood on my hands (ewwww) I am going to share with you brief snippets of Christmas letters from a few of Larainy's dearest friends.


 ...Elberta and I have finally retired from the club.  When she was injured doing a cartwheel and that cheapskate Vinnie refused to chip in for a hip replacement, it just took all the joy out of exotic dancing...




... Mary Ellen came home from her stint in the Congo wearing leopard skin pants, and Bart refused to let her return to the Peace Corp.  We thought she was supposed to be digging wells, not shooting endangered species...


...Beth may be the youngest member of the clan, but when she gives her ""girl power"  salute, we immediately take her to Wendy's for a large Frosty before she lays the hammer down..




 ...and so I said "like, fer sure I'm totally down for teepeeing Taylor Swift's dressing room...because she is like, such a poser"...






 ...and you would never know it, but Regina got braces this year...






 ...Daryl is intensely focused on receiving his Eagle Scout Award and always has a rope handy to practice his knots...




...After Conrad got laid off when the grease fire burned down Denny's, we couldn't afford our summer vacation at the beach. We didn't want to disappoint Eddie so we got him a sandbox and a mural...




 ...Chip finally got his lettermen jacket back from that awful Ashley and we haven't heard a peep out of her since the incident at Kmart with the baseball bat and the subsequent restraining order...


 ... little Damon has been a good deal calmer since the exorcism and the neighbors haven't complained about missing pets since April...


 ...Tim and Timothy are still in therapy, trying to carve out their own identities.  So far, Tim has taken a bold first step and admitted that he doesn't really like turtlenecks...



 ...unfortunately, Jeffrey quit ROTC when they he found out that a saxophone that shoots poison darts is not an approved military weapon...


Here's hoping your mailbox is filling up with Christmas letters!




beautiful people found here



Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Beware of Couch Pillow Spyware

Curse you Wikileaks!




How could you exploit information obtained via a clever robotic device that infiltrated my home disguised as an innocent couch pillow that moved from room to room without being detected amongst the chaos and detritus of an abundance of family home for Thanksgiving. 

How could you leak embarrassing and incriminating information such as...

 My addiction to eggnog straight from the bottle


 The priceless artistic rendition of a manger scene by two talented grandkids who are 
obviously breaking new ground artistically but at 6 and 3, not ready yet for the adulation of the world


The embarrassing discovery of a cereal bowl in the bathroom


The cobwebs allowed to flourish in corners 
that accent a bad paint job over badly installed drywall.


A stolen secret stash of chocolate chips, 
guarded by a musket and a youngster not afraid to use it.


Wikileaks, my Christmas wish for you is that you eat 2 lbs. of fruitcake prepared 
by the unwashed hands of an unsympathetic friend 
with a communicable digestive disorder .