Pfunksfoolosophy

You folks know how much I adore my grandson, right? I have tons of photos of him on my phone and in my emails, but it would be superfantastic to share him with the world. He’s just that adorable and handsome. Sorry if you think your kid is adorable—you’re misguided. He is the only kid on the planet. I can’t help  myself. Other grandparents can understand this insanity, I’m sure.
Imagine if I could have a photo pillowcase of my little love…oh, the joy…the rapture…Photo Pillows who’da thunk it? Guys, seriously…I want one of my little baby boy. LITTLE? The kid is a giant child. He looks like he’s ready for second grade already. And he’s funny. He’s learning the subtleties of the knock knock joke now.
Another blog entry…another time.

Anyway, how could I get myself one of these bad boys? There’s a site called fotobed.com and guess what? They can take your favorite photos and transform them into machine washable bed linens or even, get this–shower curtains.
Now, I love Pooper more than you’ll ever know, but I don’t think I’d like to see him on my shower curtain. I’ll reserve that for a tasty shot of Marcus Schenkenberg…well, even that would make me uncomfortable. Perhaps a photo of a beagle.
The site is crazy easy to use and it’s fast. We like fast, don’t we. We also like easy. Easy seems to crop a lot in my posts. Are you seeing a trend?
Oh, the hilarity.

Really? Oh, I’m talking big now, but you and I both know that it’s gonna be a hassle being downtown on Halloween.

BUT, it’s usually a crack up at Johnny’s.

Hmmm…what do you think? Should I go?

Flip a coin. What that I had a coin to flip.

Har har…I’ll give you the details tonight.
Peace, kids.

It’s been a long time since I’ve taken a real vacation. Lately, something has been telling me that I should go to London. I’m no Anglophile, but something is telling me ‘Go to London’ so I’m going to go with it. I wish that voice would give me winning lottery numbers, but that’s a post for another day. I’m looking to explore, so maybe after London, I’ll get myself to take a different kind of holiday.

Some people are saying that holidays in Tenerife might fit the bill. I would love to go to Spain. I speak the lingo AND, I adore tapas. Plus, the men are way cute. Javier Bardem comes to mind…niiiice.
All I know is that I want an easy, no fuss way of booking cheap flights. It wouldn’t hurt if I could book an all inclusive trip, ya know? I like easy and cheap. Heck, I AM easy and cheap. Ha ha…easy, cheap…get it?
So, if you’re lookin’ for a great, easy way to book a trip overseas, you know what to do, right?

I’ll be sippin’ my sangria, soakin’ up the rays and greasin’ on some tasty tapas very shortly.
Well, in my dreams at least. Crazier things have happened, right? Hey, just look at our President.
Oh, that was mean spirited. But funny. And mildly political. Hmm…the Pfunk is rockin’ some social commentary.
Wow

Will I go out this fine evening? Even though I am broke as can be, it might be a good idea to go downtown and watch the Halloween Parade in the Village. It’s fun to see the little ones all dressed up and the BIG ones all decked out. Lady Bunny is sure to be out and I always get a kick out of that glamorpuss. She’s got GREAT wigs. Total hair hopper, man.

So, maybe I’ll have something groovy to report. Maybe I’ll hook up with my pals at my former local. Maybe Ethan Hawke will take a shower for the occasion. Oh, that kid. I love him, but he’s a mess. I want to take him aside and just give him a good scrubbing. Seriously. Maybe he’s gonna go as Pig Pen from Charlie Brown. Hmmm. That could work.

I’m just gonna throw on a pair of jeans and a blouse and call it a day. It’s a bittersweet day for me anyway.  Hope you all have a blast.

Talk to you soon.

You know, most Americans are swimming in a pool of debt. While I am one broke ho, I actually don’t have much debt to speak of…which is convenient since I don’t have much money. Okay, ANY money. The credit card companies make it seem so easy to have everything that you want for seemingly nothing. Most folks don’t read the fine print. They want what they think is a free ride to material goods town. Stop and think. Nothing is free, peeps. In order to get a handle on your finances, you’ve got to understand how credit works. Ideally, you will need to carry a balance on your credit cards in order for the companies to make money off of you. They’re basically extending to you a loan. They’re gonna charge you interest. If you pay your balance off every month, you’re sorta screwing them. They don’t like that. They like for you to have just enough to remain in debt.

Do what you can to educate yourself  and get the right information.
I know someone who is over 35K in debt. Just from credit cards. That is nuts! Sure, she’s got all of the best clothes, shoes, jewelry and the like, but damn, man…how important is it to have Christian Laboutin shoes when you can’t afford to buy groceries? Crazy. She’s working just to keep the credit folks off her back. Debt consolidation may be her way out, I don’t know, but it’s worth doing the research.

 Get the information to arm yourself appropriately, guys.
We all could use debt help so get yourself together. Educate yourself. Don’t be fooled by the come-ons that you get in the mail. If you can’t afford something, you can’t afford it.
I learned a great lesson from my Dad. He never used his credit cards. He paid for everything with cash. We bought our cars, took vacations all on cash. If he didn’t have it in his pocket, he didn’t get it.
The credit cards were used primarily for business transactions. He paid them off quickly. Here’s the funny thing, though. The same man who did this, didn’t help me with my credit cards. He told me he would. I had to learn the hard way.
Don’t fall prey to the enticing offers. Get what you can handle, ya dig?

Halloween, guys…when I was a kid, Halloween was the ultimate. You got to dress up, act a fool and get FREE CANDY. What is more appealing than free candy? As a kid, your whole life revolves around getting candy. There’s something in your DNA, I think. The week leading up to Halloween was so exciting. What would I be for that special day? When I was younger, I always wanted a store bought costume for some reason, but never, EVER got one. My Mom was a creative sort, so I was a princess, a ballerina, a football player (thanks to my brother and his exploits in the Pop Warner League), a mummy…and then as I got older, the costumes lacked the verve and snap of my earlier costumes…yep, I was a jazz musician–I was playing the trumpet then, so it was easy, a ghost and finally, an undercover cop. My candymania knew no boundaries, my friends. I was blatantly seeking candy. I wanted the goods.
“Ohhh, what are you?” (long pause as I explain my costume) “Well. That’s very inventive. Here’s your candy. Happy Halloween, honey!”

I met a lot of neighbors who fully understood my candylust. They fed it without question–with the exception of my friend Christine’s mom. She just said, ‘Give me a break. ‘ and gave me my three musketeers. The woman knew me only too well.
One of my fondest memories of my dad is when he phoned home to ask my mom if she needed him to bring anything back and when she told him to get extra candy, he came back with bags of sour balls.

My mother was livid. “Are you nuts? The candy isn’t wrapped, a kid could choke on it and we’ve been giving out chocolate. We’re gonna get pranked tonight!”

My dad’s response: “What kid don’t like a sour ball?”
Daddy was from the South. He grew up poor, so a sour ball was a real treat for him. Poor guy was hurt that Mom came down on him. Sour balls were cool as far as he was concerned.

I tell that story often. He was so cute and innocent, looking to me for confirmation.

“Of course, some of the colors aren’t good, but it’s candy, right honey?”
My response was to shrug and say, “Aww, Daddy…you did your best.”

Mom got in the car and drove to Cumberland Farms leaving Daddy and me with the sour balls. To make a joke, Daddy called Mommy a sour puss.

We giggled and sucked on our favorite flavors until she returned. With FULL SIZE candy bars. Daddy flipped out at the cost. Mom told him to hush up and have a sour ball. We had those things in the house until Easter.

Halloween, man. Good times.