Death of a Lemon Thingy

I’ve never claimed to be a good cook.

In the kitchen I just fake it.

But that Keto friendly lemon thingy,

Well, I thought I’d try and bake it.

It’s made from scratch, not a mix,

So I tried to get into the groove.

I measured, mixed, stirred and blended,

But this shit just wouldn’t get smooth.

So I shoved the damn thing in the oven,

Set the timer and hoped for the best.

An hour later, this shit’s still runny.

Is this some sort of a test?

Three hours later, the middle’s still wiggly

And the lemon’s not even zingy.

This frosting shit needs cut with a knife.

It’s the death of a lemon thingy.


Written by Taffy O’

My wrestlers took the bathroom sink dream

I woke up early today.  It was a holiday and I didn’t have to work, so I thought “Oh, I can go back to sleep!”….I should know better, since weird dreams (even weirder than usual) occur when I do that.  Sometimes, these weirder than usual dreams are very real-like, and it feels like I am awake and the things that occur are taking place right there where I am trying to sleep.

I hear a noise, so I look up and this wrestler (I believe his stage name is EC3) comes flying down the hallway, into the bedroom and crashes to the floor several times.  He’s yelling and complaining about the guy he’s wrestling, all the time trying to straighten these annoying little purple shiny pants he’s wearing.  I use the term pants loosely, because they are a cross between a pair of women’s underwear and a speedo.  I desperately tried to raise my head off the pillow and yell “Shut up, go home and get some real pants on dammit”, but no words came out of my mouth.  Well, after about 3 times of crashing into the bedroom, I sent my husband to kick them out.  He comes back in and tells me DJ Spud is in the front room, and they are having a wrestling match.  I bolt out of the bedroom and in the hallway is a young lady heading back to the spare room.  “Had to work late at the hospital tonight, sorry I’m late.”  To which I replied “Who in the hell are you?”

I hear a noise in the bathroom, and run in there only to find the bathroom sink and mirror are missing.  (Gone, completely gone….pipes and all…nothing left)  I run out to the front room to kick that wrestler’s arse, but he is already tearing out in his car.

My dog is on the loveseat, and he is shaking and making a buzzing sound.  I don’t even know what the hell that is….AND my furniture has been moved.  So, while moving my furniture back, I find a hole in my nice new couch.  It’s a small hole, that turns out to actually be an anthill.  OMG….my couch is infested with ants.  While calling the furniture company, I find a container on the counter in the kitchen with cake and pills in it.   It belongs to the gal who was sorry she was late coming home from work.  I am still asking “Who in the hell are you?  You don’t live here…go home!!!”   But, oh, wait…she’s got pills in with her cake, so ok, she thinks she is home.

Suddenly someone appears at the door with a new sink and mirror for the bathroom.  Seems the wrestling company sent it.  Only problem is, the sink is pink.  My bathroom is black and white.

My Hugh Jackman in the kitchen dream

The dream starts in the house I grew up in.  I walk downstairs from the bedrooms with my grandkids to find my sister with her grandson sitting at the table talking with Hugh Jackman while my mother fixes him dinner.  Suddenly, he asks if I am up for being with the Xmen, because there are some sinister people in the neighborhood.  Well, yeah, I’m down with that.  It seems my mutant talent is being invisible and making people do things with my mind.  (For instance, my sister said in the dream “My grandson will cry if someone makes this monkey scream.”  So I did that with my mind and the kid didn’t even flinch.)  My daughter would accompany us.  Her mutant talent is touching items that others have come in contact with and reading their thoughts that way.  She can fly and travel at high rates of speed, and I can levitate.  You see, there was a rather large band of evil-doers disguised as elderly people on a field trip from their nursing home.  They were roaming the area in their bus, wreaking havoc on the unsuspecting public.  We tracked them down to a museum where there was a rather large gathering and they were scheduled to set off a bomb of some sort to kidnap a rather influential artist as well as steal some art.  We find a rather suspicious looking individual looking at a jewel display, so my daughter strikes up a little conversation with him.  He abruptly leaves.  She then touches an object that he had been in contact with and learned he knew we were with the Xmen and was planning on hunting us down at precisely 9:30 pm.  We then follow some other individuals, and I levitate above them and make them tell me who they were with and where they were going.  Wolverine then comes running up the stairs and we decide the fellow who is hunting us down at 9:30 pm is the ring leader, so we must go trap him at the location he is going to (which happens to be the house I grew up in).  Just as we round up the bad guys, my dog licks me in the face and wakes me up.

My visitor.

A few days ago, I kept catching a glimpse of something out the corner of my right eye, or so I thought. Then, Saturday I kept turning to my husband, who was sitting to the right of me and asking “What did you say?”…Nothing, he said nothing. Then, all day yesterday I felt a “presence” behind my right shoulder, and when I went to sleep, it was like someone was touching my right shoulder. During the night I dreamed about my brother Dave who passed away in 1987.  He was in the kitchen where we grew up.  (Mind you, that house no longer exists, as it was demolished in 2000 to build a Walgreens.)  I said “I thought you were dead!” He said “Well, I am, but I heard you needed a visit, now give me a hug.”

My dream about my dad.

My dream started at the house we all grew up in (aka 548), and all of us kids were standing in the kitchen. The house was pretty much torn up, so I am guessing it was in it’s pre-tearing down stage after Walgreens purchased it.  I had just finished reattaching the old brown and white paneling on the kitchen walls.  My brother Will said “Nice job, I like what you did.”  Then, we started talking about Dad, who had been in the hospital, something to do with his hip.  Upon discharge he would be going back to the little red house behind the old dairy queen.  (The house the folks bought when Walgreens took over 548.)  We were all worried about who would take care of him, since I don’t live basically down the avenue from that house anymore.

We decided it was time to leave 548 and come up with a plan.  After walking outside, we turned around to find the back porch was completely gone and the kitchen door was boarded up.  A car then pulls in the driveway and it is my niece, her fiance, my nephew and his wife, their mother and her hubby.  When my niece’s fiance gets out of the car, all these papers blow out into the alley at 548.  “What the heck is that?” we all asked. To which my niece replies “They are all car insurance cards….he saves every one of them!  Uggghhh.”

We all get in our respective vehicles and drive to the little red house.  While there, we are talking to someone about whether or not dad will need care after he gets home.  In the shadows of the kitchen we see someone in a hat with his back to us.  At first I think it’s my brother Will.  He turns around and it’s our Dad!  He looks great, wearing his old light colored 10 gallon hat, a white shirt, black cowboy tie, black pants and his black cowboy boots.  He walks over, standing straight, not limping anymore.  I looked at him and said “Daddy!  What are you doing here already?  We were so worried…I thought you were dying.”  He gave me a big old hug and said “I’m here to tell you I’m ok and so is your mom.  Everything is going to be fine.  You don’t have to worry so much anymore.”  In the middle of the hug, I woke up.  It felt so real, I was looking around for him. My dad passed away in 2007.