Tag Archive | funny

What Happened in the Barnes & Noble Bathroom Last Night

By now, you should know (and if you didn’t, now you do) bookstores are my happy place. My sanctuary from the world around me. I find solace and peace and adventure and knowledge within the rows and stacks of paper and ink.


Sometimes, I even find unexpected joy, happiness, hope, and hilarity from the people who roam those magical aisles alongside me. I enjoy sharing those moments with you.

Coffee, Books, and a Tale To Tell – A Day at the Bookstore

Book Store Story OR The Complete and Utter Ruination of His Life

Not long ago, I also shared a story about a fart ninja who cleared out nearly an entire section with a silent but deadly . . . you can read that one, People Who Fart in Bookstores and Other Heinous FiendsHERE if you’d like. Today, I share another bookstore fart tale with you.

* * *

Last night I had the chance for an evening run to the bookstore. I was a little on the left side of grumpy and like I said, bookstores are my happy place. They soothe the savage beast within and all that, so I put on some pants and headed out for a little literary therapy.

Before I’d even made my first selection, I begrudgingly had to stop my perusal to make a beeline for the bathroom. It had been a multiple cup of coffee kind of day. Thankfully there was one open stall. So including me, that made three ladies in the ladies room.


All was quiet aside from some tinkling noises when all of a sudden, the silence was shattered, broken by a sound I would have expected from a mountain lumberjack with a healthy appetite for nothing but broccoli and pork and beans.

It came from the furthest stall from me. It sounded like three consecutive bursts from a rapid fire machine gun, fired into a cave at midnight. Bathrooms always have excellent acoustics. Each release was approximately two seconds long, with perhaps a second between them.

IMG_2385Once I realized we were not under attack, I heard a mortified sounding sigh followed by a whispered curse and, “Omigod. That actually just happened.”

The gal in the stall next to me immediately said, “Grandpa? Is that you?” I would have pissed myself if I hadn’t already emptied my bladder.

Nothing from the shooter. Not a sound.

I got out of there quickly because if didn’t, I was going to lose it and laugh, possibly hysterically, and likely add to the poor lady in the last stalls obvious embarrassment.

Mind you, I wasn’t restraining laughter directed at the woman with some obvious gastrointestinal difficulties, although, and no – I am not a child, farts are sometimes funny, I raised four kids. You have to laugh. I wanted to giggle, perhaps even guffaw at the comment that came after the gas attack.

Now, don’t judge me too harshly here, but damn I want to be friends with that chick in the middle stall. I wanted to high five her under the wall separating us, but you know, gross.

I do hope the gas attack lady was okay, I’m quite certain IMG_2388she felt better following the epic release. The three of us will likely never forget our time in the bookstore bathroom. I think we bonded.

To the quick-witted and slightly twisted occupant in the middle stall, you made an awkward situation possibly even more awkward in a hey, no big deal, everyone farts, might as well make it funny kind of way, and if you ever find this little retelling of our time in the Barnes & Noble bathroom on September 20, 2017 at approximately 7:30 PM – message me. Seriously. We might be related.

The Gobbler Gazette – Thanksgiving Edition

Gobbler Gazette


Tomorrow is T-Day by Clancy Doo

As we all know, tomorrow is the one day of the year we in the turkey community fear the most. Tensions have been high on farms throughout the county, fewer riots have been reported than at this time last year, thanks in part to the growing popularity of vegetarian cuisine.

The Turkey Rights movement has garnished garnered much attention in recent years and we are seeing more acceptance and respect than ever before, but we still have a long way to go until all turkeys can roam free without fear of being stuffed.

Big thanks to the Johnson Farm who will be feasting on Tofu Turkey this year, and it has been reported the Smith Ranch will be be crafting and dining on homeade soy turkey sculptures.

Many thanks to those who participated in the Save Our Necks rally last weekend, it was a huge success. Proceeds will go the families of this years victims. We will be holding a candlelight vigil Thanksgiving night for all who wish to attend.

Keep your spirits high and your heads low, one day we will be free.


Five Tips That Could Save Your Neck by Clara Doodle

  1. Don’t panic. If you are caught in a mass of fleeing feathers, you risk injury and become easy pickins.

  2. Feign illness. It may sound cheesy, but it worked for Percy Perch last year. No one wants a foul fowl on their table.

  3. Hide. No one will judge.

  4. Suck it in. In their ravenous greed they always go for the fat ones.

  5. Attack back. This is only to be attempted as a last ditch effort if you are caught. If you peck hard enough, you could be dropped, giving you a chance at escape. For those on farms who prefer firearms, please see above.



On a sad note, Elsa Peck passed on early this week, she appeared to have starved to death in an effort to lose weight before the holidays. We can at least be thankful she went peacefully.

Please join us in the East corner of the coop this evening at 5 pm 

for a memorial and prayer gathering.


Grief counseling will be provided at no cost, councilors will be standing by until after the New Year, and as always, the support group will continue to meet at its regular time. Next week we will have a guest speaker, the topic will be survivors guilt.

Crystal R. Cook

Weird Al, I love you. I do.

The actual amount of epic awesome packed into three minutes and forty-five seconds of Weird Al perfection here is indescribable. I will be memorizing and singing this song to the annoyance of anyone within earshot as often as I can, this means my husband and my children are going to love me all the more, or not. I really couldN’T care less!

Sorry Mom.


I am 44 years old.

My mom called.

I got busted for saying the eff word.

I did.

That happened.

In my blog post,


I make use of the offending word twice, I may say another bad word, maybe two . . . I don’t make use of them lightly or often.

So, I apologize for saying an effing bad word. I do.

Love you Mom!