Scrub that banana and random thoughts

Often I get PR emails announcing that music artist X has just dropped a new single. My first thought on reading such a headline is, Oh no, be careful! Don't drop it! Then, why would you make a new single if you're just going to dump it so quickly? That's a bit like, hello-good-bye.

Sigh.

Photo representation of my thought process

The confusion lasts for only a microsecond so I don't feel too bad. It took me a while to figure out what cray cray meant too. (I once spelled it cra cra.)

Expensive diet, priceless cheese puff sculpture

Of course, what they really mean is they have introduced a new single. Drop means introduce. So it would be accurate to say that I've dropped a few pounds during the pandemic, right? In fact, it sort of softens the blow and rolls. 

You might even think, whoa, Mel, how did you possibly drop pounds with all your snacking? Especially with Baroness von Snakzalot inhabiting your other dimension (here & here). What's your secret?! I'd just wink and say, Eat more!!, and let you figure it out. But you've figured it out already because I've pre-emptively sabotaged the mystery, if there was any in the first place.

This is a video I made, Dinner Chez Mel, Isolation Style. I'm disappointed that I forgot to include the candelabra, which graces all my fine dining experiences. View it below or go HERE.

My gourmet dining experience during lockdown

I've been thinking lately - it's a habit I've taken up during the pandemic, dwelling on thoughts, dwelling in my dwelling. When this pandemic is over I'm going to do all these really great things. Woo hoo!! All of them, double hard, double downed, double troubled! Because my bad-assery is back-building (especially when I'm dropping weight). I'm gonna fly there and there and invite myself to stay at my friends' homes, your homes. Hallooo!! 

It's not a bucket list because buckets are often so, eeew, stinky and stained and plastic, housing plaster or fish or paint. And you can never rinse out the smell. No, this is my Champagne kegger list. A bit more dignified and with lots of room to fit everything in there with sparkle and a pop.

Vacuum therapy - reenactment - this never happened

I never actually pictured myself as someone having a Champagne kegger list, but the pandemic has brought about lots of significant changes. For example, it used to be that my partner O and I would argue about bananas. He always said I should wash them - the skins. Who does that?, I'd say. It gets rid of salmonella, he'd say. But I don't like washing them because it makes the skins all old looking. 

Now before I go on, let me be clear: I'm not ageist but I like a nice, firm, young-looking banana. Does that make me a bad person? Furthermore, if - and that's a big if - I were going to wash the bananas, it would be to get rid of all those tarantula eggs stuck on there because you know what happens if they make their way into your brain, right? (Although how they get there is cause for hours of horrific contemplation.) 

And now, in these strange days, O has won! Who knew it would take a pandemic to make us see eye-to-eye on bananas. That's bananas! Now we not only scrub the bananas but we scour all our fruit. And bread wrappers, and milk containers, anything that comes into our home. Suddenly spider eggs seem like cute and friendly homesteaders compared to those new invaders. And you don't even really know they're incubating or hatching, do you? DO YOU?! Forget coronavirus - we need a test for spider eggs!

To distract myself from such questions that vex, I've Netflixed myself into oblivion on more than one occasion, devouring series about time travel and ESP and zombies and murder. It's a bit like a marathon transworld flight. I'm reminded of my existence only when my auto-pilot hand goes into the snack-bag beside me and comes out empty, which sets off alarm bells that only a stretch and a refill will quiet. My mask drops down from the closet ready for an emergency evac, but these days I just order delivery. So pffft.

My hair also went much whiter in the front in the span of about a week. I didn't really notice until I noticed, know what I mean? It's those spiders in there playing with my hair-colour glands, I just know it. 

Sigh. Again.

I hope you are all well. Maybe we'll cross paths in the jetstreams of Netflix. Give us a little wave, will ya's? I'll do the same. And prepare your guest suites. Heh. I'll bring the Champagne. And we'll have a little party. Yeeeeah-ah!!! 

VOGOFF LOCKDOWN 2020 Magazine

It's here. The new VOGOFF.

LOCKDOWN Edition 2020

122 pages FREE!

SOLD OUT!!

My friend says: 

"It's like Vogue had a baby with Monty Python"

VOGOFF is 122 pages of the whimsy, wit, and weirdness of women of a certain age living under lockdown. Art, photos, articles - so much stuff and nonsense. 

Launched in 2012, VOGOFF is renowned for its highest standards of baselessness among discerning immature people (40+). 

LAUGH! - the Mayo Clinic says it's good for you.

Below is the pdf. <<Sorry, this is no longer available>>

----------------------------------------------------------------

Special thanks to Sarah @farkingdelightful on Instagram for the work she did helping me get this together and to Shelley, Forest City Fashionista @fcfashionista, for her ongoing support of VOGOFF. And thanks to everyone who joined this time. You guys are awesome!

<<SORRY, SOLD OUT!!>>

Now you can also purchase a PRINT VERSION of this issue from the publisher, Blurb, who will ship it to you direct. It's $27.99 (Cdn) or about $21 US, plus shipping. This is the publisher's fee plus $1 for me to help with the next issue. I chose the best paper and cover so it feels deeeeluxe. Hahaha. 

Thoughts on air travel as a submarine-setter

In my life as a influencer, heh, and jet-setter (clarify: private-submarine-setter whenever possible), I must often fly to fake locations around the world. Sometimes I have to go to real places too. Oh, bother!

A while ago I flew, not by self-propulsion, which is another excellent option (see below), but on a plane. I had a suitcase. And I was in class H. Yes, you read that right. Remember when there used to be economy and first class, then business class nudged its way in, until this: class H, which presumably stands for Hot Hottie.

I was class Q (stands for "This is quackers!") on my return flight.
I thought there was a misprint.

My favoured way to fly.

One of my first self-propulsion flights.

I expected my boarding lineup to be way over in the other terminal I was so far down the list. If I was lucky there might be a bicycle or push scooter to transport me down the line. But no, I was lumped in with all the uppity classes, C D E F and Gs, and was later forced to sit with people waaay below my class, L M N O P. The indignity! Meanwhile, the As and Bs got their own rarefied air travel experience shuffling in the line next to mine. No mooing herd heard.

I know Canada is a classless society, but we certainly adapt quickly when it comes to air travel. [haughty sniff]

What to pack for an overnight trip 

This is part of what I brought with me. 

It's crucial that everything fits in a carry-on bag. 

I brought six attendants to aid in this process. 

Upon boarding and settling into your seat, you may discover that the person beside you is maybe a class F (Frickin' Frick), two steps above my class H.

She certainly didn't look class F, more like a J. 

Oh, the charade!! 

In fact, I only found out her higher status because she got priority snack service, which meant she could buy her potato chips first (crisps), grrr, but included in the price was the ire of everyone within eyesight and earshot of her crunch and grin. I thought, Heh, good deal! - nothing like being locked in a tubular cage surrounded by people who hate you for five hours.

But maybe this is the essence of the class structure. The one-percenters get chips (if class F counts); the rest of us watch and listen and get jealous and mad, while they crunch, look smug, exhale their horrible chip breath all over the place, and prepare to dash to the nearest exit. Sigh.

WHAT TO WEAR FOR AIR TRAVEL IN CLASS H 
(Class H stands for Class Hot Hottie)

Adding injury to insult, the flight attendant dropped that mini can of chips on my wrist and it really really hurt bad. Did I get free chips? No! But she brought me a clear plastic baggie knotted at the top and filled with ice chips sloshing around in reddish water which looked like meat juice. There were probably shards of bone in there too.

What fresh hell was this!? 

If I were class E or F (remember I was H), I'm sure I would have received at least a blue Freezie pop. I'm sure in Class A or B they would have forgone the meat runoff and just slapped a raw sirloin steak on my wrist before serving it to me for lunch.

I suppose this setup has a certain fairness, except for my grievous injury. The woman beside me paid more for the extras, like PRIORITY CHIPS, like you pay for extra space: x dollars for right elbow room, x dollars for earlobe space, hip space, baby toe space, x  dollars for middle finger space, but many of us just take advantage of that one without paying, which begs the question:

Is that breaking the rules?

I should get on board with this new reality and propose that airlines charge for oxygen. You get x cubic litres for x dollars. Of course it would be timed so you have to top up when you get close to your destination. It's only good marketing. And extra-fresh air for an extra fee. Miz Bagg always used to charge me for air in the office.

I can envision all kinds of money-making schemes.

• "Yes, sir, that is indeed your pudding. You didn't order a container or a spoon." 
• "No bathroom privileges for you! You didn't pay the extra $100." "But this is a 10 hour flight!" Which of course would boost sales for the fresh air option.

Another flying adventure, this time with co-pilot Sandra @standard.deviations.

I'm sure the troll on the wing of the plane in that Twilight Zone episode below would never get away with free passage on the wing like that these days. Trolls must board like the rest of us, regardless of their class, where at least we can all keep an eye of them, as if that helps.

Really, if I could self-propulse everywhere I would, but it gets cold up there. After this experience, I'm truly grateful for my private luxury submarine. If I could only figure out how to portage it across the prairies I wouldn't have to put up with this nonsense. Suggestions?

TOWER, WE'RE READY FOR TAKE-OFF

I hope you are all fine and dandy. I've been missing this blog world.

Happy 2020. And wearing beige on my way to millions

Happy New Year. 2020. When I was 12, I thought the year 2000 was like la-la Lost-in-Space time, but now in 2020, it turns out my thoughts were not too far off the mark after all. These are definitely non-fiction science-fiction times. Case in point, I'm wearing beige. And a trendy item, a puffer coat. Highly SF because beige is like my kryptonite, not as much as it used to be, but still.

Okay, beige, but it is pearlescent and ultra warm, 

a generous donation from a friend. 

I'm trying to be badass. It's exhausting. Flyaway brows help.

I was interested to read yesterday that scientists recently put 3D glasses on a cuttlefish and studied its behaviour as it watched movies, real story HERE. The glasses look like wings on each side of its head. Question: Who exactly made the glasses, where did they study how to make them, and did they overcharge? Also, did the cuttlefish get popcorn?

So I'm now thinking of attaching cuttlefish to each side of my own head and studying my own behaviour, but that would only work in water (with a snorkel because I wouldn't want the cuttlefish to suffocate in the air). But in water I wouldn't be able to eat popcorn. I could eat the cuttlefish, but that would defeat the point of the exercise, which I'm not convinced existed in the first place. So there goes that idea! Why does everything have to be so complicated?

Badassery pose 2. How much longer can I keep this up?!

Maybe I'll just learn how to make 3D glasses for octopus instead. I'll make a fortune!

I also read that people who snore are now being encouraged to lose weight on their tongue, real story HERE. Yeah, well, I got to work on that right away, much easier to do than attaching cuttlefish to my head. I've been writing! Look for my new books in your favourite bookstores:

• Tongue 'o Steel 
• Six-pack Tongue in Six Days 
• Tongue in Cheek 2, 3, 4...  
• 105 Slobber-free Habits to Tone your Tongue 
• Gimme Some More Tongue! 
• Tone up with Tongue Wagging

Yes, I've been busy.

I have already submitted patent applications for a revolutionary weight pack to wrap around your tongue for 24-hour strength training and a customized tongue weigh scale so you can measure the results. Of course I'll start a Tonguexercise franchise. I just need to make sure that a slender toned tongue doesn't weigh more than a thin flaccid one. These are questions that keep me awake at night.

Scientists suggest playing the didgeridoo as an effective means of losing tongue fat and as an alternative to CPAP machines. True.

Whew! Good assery!

Gosh, with 3D octopus glasses and my tongue exercise empire, I'm finally gonna make my millions in 2020! Of course, you'll all want to be my friend now so you too can hop aboard the Mel Money Train, woo-woo. That's okay. There's room for everyone and I'll enjoy the company.

Yes, keywords being woo-woo.

It's a wacky world, no doubt about it. I could talk about sustainable shopping and recycling or the fires in Australia or the crises unfolding in the Middle East or Trudeau's new facial hair, but frankly, as Madeline Kahn said so well in the 1974 movie Blazing Saddles, "I'm tired." If we don't take care of ourselves, we won't be very good at taking care of others.

Mel Brooks's satirical film Blazing Saddles. I'm not sure how well 
it holds up with time, but I LOVE Ms. Kahn

So "Back to the studio!" as Bridget Jones (fictional character from book/movie Bridget Jones's Diary) famously cried after sliding down the fireman's pole. See the brilliant clip HERE.

My studio in this case is a music studio because, look!, I wrote a song, kinda. I hope it's a No. 1 hit on those charts if they even exist anymore because I'm so out of it I wouldn't really know. Do they still have Billboard?

A Smart Kinda Nurse (an original song)

By Crone (my band name) 

I get on with life as a nurse,

I'm a smart kinda person.

I like golf and badminton.

I like to contemplate slippers.

But when I start to daydream,

My mind turns straight to wine.

Five six seven eight...

Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,

I notice the way I think about wine with a smile,

Curved lips I just can't disguise.

But I think it's slippers making my life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?

Slippers or...

Wine?

I like to use words like 'awesome' and 'neato.'

I like to use words about slippers.

But when I stop my talking,

My mind turns straight to wine.

Five six seven eight...

Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,

I notice the way I think about wine with a smile,

Curved lips I just can't disguise.

But I think it's slippers making my life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?

Slippers or...

Wine?

I like to hang out with Mary and Rhoda.

But when left alone,

My mind turns straight to wine.

Five six seven eight...

Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,

I notice the way I think about wine with a smile,

Curved lips I just can't disguise.

But I think it's slippers making my life worthwhile.

Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?

Slippers or...

Wine?

I hate the dark and carrots.

But I just think back to wine,

And I'm happy once again.

Five six seven eight...

Song Lyrics Generator HERE actually generated it, but I had to fill in the crucial bits with untrue facts. If any of you want to add music, please do and send it to me. I'll record it badly and my rock star dreams coming true will add to my moguldom.

Blast from the past, VOGOFF e-zine, June 2013 issue HERE

And I'm linking up to Patti, dagblammit, and her Visible Monday on Not Dead Yet Style when it's time. I look forward to seeing everyone.

Again, Happy New Year! Health and happiness to you all. Hugs all around. Thanks for dropping by. It's been busy here, in a good way. I hope it has been for you too.