Meow Mix

AN ARMS OPEN WIDE welcome to anybody and everybody already longing for the day that should have been on this not-so-fine-for-some-of-us fourth day of the week. May this installment of ABC Wednesday Round Six spell S-M-I-T-C-H-O-F-R-E-L-I-E-F for you. (For what other ABC Wednesdayers have on their minds, beginning with the letter "K," just "click" the sidebarring Alphabet Soup eater -->)

is for...

kitties under the blanket!

Awww, isn’t that sweet?! Doesn’t it make you feel nice all insidey and out? Aren’t you glad I said it? You’re welcome. I know, I know– this is truly a moment you want to relive.

kitties under the blanket!

There, I said it again.
You’re smiling, aren’t you?

kitties under the blanket!

I’m smiling, too!
It’s that kind of moment.

TWO WORDS:
warm and fuzzy!

THAT'S IT, folks.
That’s all SparkleFarkle she wrote.
And ya know what? I’m thinking that’s enough.
Yep, you gotta know

your medicine
and when to take it.

Love,
SparkleFarkle~~~~~*

Rest in peace, my Mollo and ZuZu.

For Better or for Wurst

AFTER BEING ever so Shutter Island-wowed at the movies, Friday night (See my three days ago-blog: "My Own Private Funny Farm"), Puppet and I decided (<– In unison, no less! Nah, just funning you. I only said that for effect.), "Heck, yeah! Let’s have some more Scorcese!" So, we rented

The Departed,
the night before last.

MINUTES INTO this highly-anticipated-when-it-was-released-in-2006-to-overwhelmingly-positive-reviews-then-took-home-four-Oscars-to-the-tune-of-Best-Picture-Best-Director- (<– for my dear friend, Marty, it was his first one ever! WHAT, already?! You still don’t think Marty likes me calling him Marty? We’re friends, I tell ya, WE’RE FRIENDS. Oh, never mind. WHERE WAS I? Oh, yeah –>) Best-Film-Editing-and-Best-Adapted-Screenplay-and-a-nomination-for-Mark-Wahlberg-(Best Supporting Actor) film, my husband, all excitey, comes bounding down the stairs with a MAJOR announcement from the bedroom TV he’s viewing:

Billy: (quickly studying our television, screws up face like we’ve gotta be kidding him) What are you watching?

Puppet and I: (highly anticipating) The Departed!

Billy: Aw, do you have to? (even 'higher' highly anticipating) There’s this really great show on called 100 Tears and let me tell you me: so far, so good! You guys have to watch it! (TRANSLATION: It’s a low-budget, slasher movie whose gore is so over the top, it isn’t gross anymore. Gorehounds like me will get great enjoyment out of it!)

I PROMISE to check in on him and it in a few minutes, so, not wanting to miss one teardrop out of a hundred, he bounds back upstairs. As soon as we hear him land on the bed, above, Puppet hits "Pause" and I dash to the computer, where I Google a quick looksee at what I’m in for:

100 Tears (2007): Mark and Jennifer...daring tabloid reporters...seeking bigger, better story...leads them into...bizzare world...demented serial murderer..."The Teardrop Killer"...Psycho clown (?)...sordid past...midgets (?! --> EW! I hate it when anybody uses that word!)...his bloody trail...geysers of arterial sprays...a light-hearted vibe...excellent pace and very well-acted.

IF THERE'S ONE thing I don’t feel like giving

my husband and this movie right now, it's

FIVE WORDS:
the benefit of the doubt.

NEXT UP, I’m grimace-facey as I witness, through the cracks of my fingers shielding my eyes, the third person within the last sixty seconds to have

his insides fall out
due to a oversized cleaver-swinging mute,

Bob Keeshan-he-ain’t
clown.

QUICKER THAN I can say "Man, the production company must have $pent a fortune on sausage," Billy, without breaking his eyeball-fix on the small screen, says:

"It’s suppose to be nice on Monday.
How ‘bout I

grill brats?"

YOU GOTTA love

a guy who likes to cook.

About to make a charcoal run for today’s feast-ly,
SparkleFarkle~~~~~*

Rest in peace, my Mollo and ZuZu.

Image credits:
sausage spread H. Armstrong Roberts/Getty Images
genius at work: Voxphoto

Doppynu!

WHEN MY NIECE was just a baby smitch and first learning to talk (but not so clearly, if you know what I mean), whenever she was bored, she’d shout “Doppynu!” Much later, when she finally got her tongue parts sorted out, we discovered she'd all along been trying to say “Something new!” Well, that’s exactly what today’s blog is: something new!

WELCOME TO

Microfiction Monday,
where the fun is all about a
picture painting 140 characters, or even fewer!

I SEE THE TOP of your head is getting pointy. <-- No doubt, A sure sign your interest has been peaked piqued? If so, here’s the deal: every Sunday evening, Miss Susan, over at Stony River, posts a photo or illustration and her own microfiction inspired by it, then she happily invites you to do the same! (PLEASE TO REMEMBER: The 140 or less-count should include spaces and punctuation, too.)

HERE'S THIS WEEK'S picture with my story, which happens to be Deep Thought-teched touched, because, HEY, who better to get me off on the right foot when it comes to an adventure like this, than my hero and mentor and up purse and closonal friend Rats! up close and personal friend (<-- WAIT. About my relationship with him: Who am I kidding? DREAM ON, SparkleFarkle--> NOT gonna happen. Unfortunately, *sigh* Nary even a clandestiney moment in sight... *sigh, again*), Jack Handey?

SO, WITHOUT FURTHER ado-ing you,
Thar she blows:

"Then, unfurling his dime store Superman cape behind him, your grandpa leapt from this very bridge. I forget what happened after that." (135 words)

FIVE more WORDS:

OOPS!

I did it again.

RIGHT WHEN I THOUGHT I had my meme addiction finally set back to "Dull Roar," what do I do? Of course: add on yet another one!

Held meme-hostagely,
SparkleFarkle~~~~~*

Rest in peace, my Mollo and ZuZu.

My Own Private Funny Farm

SIX WORDS (sort of):

[Where’s]
the guy I thought I married?

GOOD DAY to you and another SIX WORD Saturday! Here’s what’s going on in my neck of the woods (posted below the boxers, above), phrased or sentenced in six words (This time, plus one more). For a looksee at what others are sixily up to today, click the SWS button right over there—>


LAST NIGHT, Puppet and I attended a midnighty showing of Martin Scorsese’s brilliant, (and challenging) psychological-mystery, haunted house thriller, Shutter Island. All I can say is: WHAT. A. MOVIE.

THANK YOU, Mr. Scorsese. You are The Master. It’s about time someone makes a film incorporating Cinemagraphic Hokey Pokey (meaning: what movie-making is "all about," that is to say, creating them like your life depended on it.) Shutter Island is simply fantastic, Martin! Can I call you Martin? Thanks. You transformed a Dennis Lehane best-selling detective story (adapted by screenwriter Laeta Kologridis) into an amazing, BIG screen page-turner! If you’re a yet-to-go-see-it, here’s the no spoilers-gist:

IT IS 1954 and US Marshal Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his partner Chuck (Mark Ruffalo) ferry to a more-than-creepy offshore asylum for the extremely dangerous and criminally insane. Their mission is to investigate an escaped convict, who has mysteriously vanished from her cell without trace. The psychologists, doctors, nurses, other staff members, guinea pigs (<– Sorry, I couldn’t resist!) "patients," anybody and their brother, AND even the kitchen sink are reluctant to help them and it isn’t long before Daniels begins to suspect these island people are keeping some mighty BIG secrets.

YOU’RE DEFINITELY snagged, right?

THE FILM’S PRIMARY effect (which promises to raw your nerves and keep them dancing looong after the viewing) is on the senses. Yep, if drop everything and head to the theater to see Shutter Island (<– because you’re going to want to do just that) expecting something special,

FIVE WORDS:
you’re going to get it.

Looming gloom;

lowering skies (<– Heck, at one point, I half-expected King Kong to show up on the horizon!)
and dark and stormy nights;

the insane insane

(Which reminds me, did you know

Amy Poehler
is pregnant with her second child?
Yeah, she and Will Arnett are expecting.)

dotting the remote
and

craggy;

a sprinkling of just the right amount of

unwashed, pasty faces
and dirty finger nails–-

Man, talk about your thrilling visuals!

AFTER WE GOT home, Puppet and I savored SI way into the wee hours. By "normal" morning, we found ourselves at the dissect-the-characters-and-cast point. So there I was, mid-way through favorably commenting about senior psychologist Dr. Naehring having been superbly portrayed by Oscar-nominated

Max von Sydow,

when my rise-and-shine-it’s-a-new-day husband appears in the kitchen doorway. Doing his not-so-signature Rocky Balboa stretch (in a ratty, too short T-shirt, and NOT a Sly Stalloney wife beater), he (in all seriousness and out to impress) interjects:

"Max von Sydow?

2010 Dancing with the Stars partners
Erin Andrews and Maksim "Maks" Chmerkovskiy
Isn’t he on Dancing with the Stars?"

THERE SHOULD BE A PRE-NUP TO

COVER JUST THIS SORT OF THING.

Still laughing!
SparkleFarkle~~~~~*

Rest in peace, my Mollo and ZuZu.

P.S. MY APOLOGIES AHEAD of time, but whether you want one or not, here's A SparkleFarkled Rant: A lot of movie-goers’ reviews of Shutter Island complain that the ending is a MAJOR sucker-punch. That the catching-you-unawares it causes prevents the film from feeling perfect on first viewing. Some will insist it doesn't make sense. Or that, if it does, then the movie leading up to it doesn't. To them, I say: BABIES! Did you even watch this show?! All the answers are right there. I can’t imagine it ending any other way. OK, then, how should it have ended? What would have made it more satisfactory? I know! How ‘bout I pack up you and your case of the whiners and I drive you over to Marty’s (Yes, Marty. He likes it when I call him Marty.), where you can be one of those critics who informs the director what he should have done instead? I’M JUST SAYING. It’s merely a suggestion.

Image Credits:
Distraught Leo:filmofilia
car scene
Originally downloaded at Free Movie codes
Boat Scene: Snarkerati
Whispering Amy Poehler, Max von Sydow, cliff hand, lighthouse shot:
Cinematropolis
Baby Mama: blogs.amctv.com
Erin and Maks: People.com

Presto Chango!

HAPPY
Jack Handey
FRIDAY!

"MOST OF THE TIME, it was probably real bad being stuck down in a dungeon. But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you’d look out your little window and think, ‘Boy, I’m glad I’m not out in that.’" –Jack Handey

ON MY WAY TO telling you about unexpected perception and the ultimate party poop who lives across the street from me my neighbor lady, I’ll first set the table. <– Sorry about that. There, for a second,

"Hi there. My name is Dug. My master made me this collar,
so that I may talk --SQUIRREL!– Hi there..." –Dug, Up (2009)
I lost my focus.

I haven’t had breakfast yet, so anything having to do with food is hopping from one foot to the other in my head. Now where was I? Oh, yeah. I’ll first set the stage a smitch by telling you a little bit of something you probably don’t know about Yours Truly:

A WHILE BACK, after noticing so many people had chosen ocean floor pictures, daisies bending in the breeze shots, mountain majesty-y moments, etc. as their screen savers, I decided to trade in my chihuahua-on-a-leash-tangling-two-pairs-of-red-high-heeled-ladies’-legs-together scene for a special something having to do more with nature.

DOING MY DEEP thinking from my kitchen window, where I hoped to be so inspired, my gaze fixed itself on two crows bobbing and swaying

the way only crows can
bob and sway.

"I am birdwatching, " I droned to myself a couple of zillion times. Then, suddenly, my monotonous hum turned not-just-hit-with-a-ton-of-bird-splat-but-instead-with-a-brilliant-screen-saver-brain-wave excitey! Happily signaling to one of the Hitchbirds, I shouted, "I am one with naturing!" It was at that moment (when both the crows were flying away out of fear) that I decided to make a fine, feathered friend be my new computer monitor image. Yep! And since I was raised on TV, and still live and breathe it, naturally I made the

NBC peacock
my sweet tweet of choice!

. . . . . . .

(I know I don’t make it easy for you, but hang in there.
This IS actually going to go somewhere soon.)

. . . . . . .

IT’S THREE MONTHS LATER, and it’s yesterday. I have just replaced my favorite SSB (<– You got it! SSB does stand for "Screen Saver Bird"!) with a variation of itself, after which I must go see who is at my door. The knock-knock-knock turns out to be Mrs. GlassHalfEmpty, my pessimistic AND misanthropic neighbor, who enjoys living under a rock and thinks television is evil, so she "never ever watches that crap."

JUDITH (I am one of the few she allows to call her by her given name.) NEEDS TO borrow a wad of Copy and Multipurpose paper (Between the two of us, it’s never a cup of sugar or egg we’re lending, as neither one of us cooks.) and follows me over to my computer haven to retrieve it. Here’s where you say, "It’s about time!" because the unexpected perception and my neighbor lady part of this long wind is finally commencing. Judedude (<– name I christened her on the sly) takes one look at my screen saver and says,

"Nice rainbow fan.
Too bad the purple leaf
has a nick in it."

INSTANTLY, my mind's eye is flooded with that one optical illusion in which some people will see

a beautiful woman primping
at her dressing table,

while others are freaking out over

A BIG, SCARY DOOMSDAY SKULL!!!

I QUICKLY wipe the you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look off my face and politely explain the showing offy NBCer to Judith, which includes me telling her all about the nature experience that led me to my perfect, Technicolor flyboy-choice. With that being said, Judedude stares long and hard at me, then at the monitor, then back at me, again. Her upper lip becomes Jerry Seinfeld-teethy as she replies,

FOUR WORDS:
"You’ve GOT to be kidding."

SO, YES INDEED, a lesson learned: Anybody who calls a network logo their nature buddy is nuts. Never assume someone is seeing things your way, even if their eyes are pointing in the same direction as yours.

"See" ya!
SparkleFarkle~~~~~*

Rest in peace, my Mollo and ZuZu.

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (Edited)

"Meoops! Bloop-bloop bloop meowap bloop me-ick-meock.
Meow bloop bloop Goldie?"
TRANSLATION:
"‘Oops!’ I forgot to strap on the tick-tock. Do I still get to keep the fish???"

A WATERY deep endy, a-day-ahead-of-schedule welcome to installment ten of ABC Wednesday Round Six, a weekly look at what’s on my mind (and others– for more, just click on the sidebarring Alphabet Soup eater -->), this "go", beginning with the letter "J"!

REMEMBER DURING caveman times,
when televison advertising use to be

(You can’t fool us. Lloyd. That’s NO wristwatch on your arm!)

Hands-on?

TO A SMITCH like me, it was truly mesmerizing. Heck, nearly scientifical! <– Yes, I used that word quite a bit, back then-- especially when it came to "torture testing"ads. With that being said, here’s to one of THE most

brilliant ideas
in televised product-pushing history:

is for...

John Cameron Swayze

drowning

his watch.

EIGHT WORDS:
"It takes a licking and keeps on ticking." –The Swayze
. . . . . . .

I'M ABOUT TO accompany myself with morning coffee in the over-stuffed. Can I pour you a cup, as well? RATS. Looks like I’m out of Joe.

Will you settle?

Swimmingly,
SparkleFarkle~~~~~*

Rest in peace, my Mollo, ZuZu, John Cameron Swayze,
and all those skinny-dipping watches that were NOT Timexes.

Image Credits:
Lightbulb fish: FreakingNews.com
Letter J: Dylan Byrd at Byrd Drawings
Lloyd Bridges/Zale Parry photo op: Internatinale Legends of Diving
Esther Williams cat: JohnLund.com
John Cameron Swayze: Bettman/CORBIS

EDIT: CALLING ALL NON-FOSSILS: Let me save you the trip down Google Lane (LOL!): Timex watches were the timepieces of the 1950s and 1960s. Respected celebrity newscaster John Cameron Swayze was the host of the now classic "Torture Test" commercials to prove the reliability of the Timex wristwatches that debuted in 1950. ("A number of these ads also featured sports celebrities who doled out the tough treatment to the watches and/or supplied an endorsing statement. Swayze also hosted non-celebrity Timex ads in which the watch would be subject to other trials — whether placed in a washing machine or attached to the bow of a speed boat (My personal favorite: the champion ice skater named Herman something, pounding the ice with a Timex attached to one of his skates. 'No wonder more people buy Timex than any other watch in the world.'). Swayze had made a name for himself as a broadcaster and became a trusted national personality and a believable pitchman for Timex. For over 20 years – well into the 1970s – Swayze appeared in the advertising series with one kind of Timex watch or another being subject to various physical challenges to prove their durability, shock resistance, and/or superior waterproofing." –The Pop History Dig.(<--"Click" for more.)

Slip Sliding Away

WELCOME

to the SparkleFarkled weekly contribution to

~~~ Sponsored by Just B :) ~~~
where the fun is all about posting a little saffy, OR a lot! This "go" being horoscope-y inspired. Here's what the week holds for me:

ARIES

The bananaRAMa
March 21 - April 29

"YOU THOUGHT the old gag with the banana peel was dead forever, and if it weren’t for you and a Dumpster full of shattered fluorescent-light tubes, it would be."

FIVE WORDS:

Peelings,
nothing more than peelings (?!)

MAY I TREAT you to some more Farkled Food for Thought? Thanks! Every Monday night (Hey, that means tonight!) from eight until nine, you will find my daughter Puppet and I intermittently doing partial Banana-speak. (<–It combines with Spud-speak.) Confused? Of course you are. Allow me to get that grey matter of yours off the hook.

Miss Puppet and I religiously watch

24.

During that hour, whenever Jack Bauer needs a bathroom break the program is about to cut to a commercial or returns from a commercial, a digital clock-beeping signals the fade out and fade in. We interpret the sound to be saying: "Potato, banana. Potato, banana. Potato, banana." – at which time, we hold our own monotone-y chant-a-long, using those exact same words. (Trust me, someday you’ll thank me for

doling

out all this information about us Farkles, because useless it is NOT. You’ll see. I promise.) A person can’t help but wonder if doing something like this can actually enhance one’s potassium level. Because, as banana-eaters ‘round the globe know, if you enjoy a plentiful diet of foods high in potassium, it is not likely that you will need to worry about suffering from mineral imbalance. WHAT? This concept isn’t really so far fetched: we’ve all had to eat our words at some time or another, haven’t we?

HMM. SO YOU THINK my potassium supplement idea is silly, do you? Well, what about

this contraption?!

Comparing it to

a game
I played when I was a smitch,

I can’t help but think
BANANA SUICIDE!!!

I’m just saying.

*revs up engine* Time for me to peel outta here,
SparkleFarkle~~~~~*

Rest in peace, my Mollo, ZuZu, and all those despondent bananas we’ve lost far too soon.

I'm a Sucker for Good TV

GOOD MORNING TO YOU and another SIX WORD Saturday! Here’s what’s going on in my neck of the woods, phrased or sentenced in six words. (For a looksee at what others are sixily up to today, click the SWS button, right over there —>)

Doing some better late than nevering.

EVEN THOUGH Friday has come and gone, I’m having a go at The Friday 56, where the page-turning frolic is all about grabbing the book nearest you (Right now, BUT not digging for your favorite book, the coolest, the most intellectual– use the CLOSEST.); turning to its page 56; finding its fifth sentence; posting that sentence (plus one or two others if you like), along with these instructions on your blog and a link bread-crumbing you back to The Friday 56 over tah Storytime with Tonya and Friends’ place.

Photo credit: Getty Images

"I HOPE IT NEVER HAPPENS, but every one of those kids needs a chance to break an arm." –page 56, sentence 5

COME ON, is it really so hard to believe my this week’s selection comes from Barry Williams’ spellbinding tell-all, Growing Up Brady: I Was a Teenage Greg? This is your ol' pal SparkleFarkle talking, REMEMBER? Yes. YES, I do. --> I proudly I admit it: I am a

ONE WORD:
Bradybunchaholic

(who keeps a copy of

this

on my coffee table.) Absolutely nothing
quenches my thirst for this family.

YEAH, BACK in the day and drowning in a puddle
of my own adolescenty self-esteem,

I would have given

anything

TO HAVE

Jan’s hair,

Marcia’s clothes,

AND to have conned Sherwood Schwartz into
ousting that boingy double-tailed Cindy out of
the picture, so I could share a bedroom with

my two fabulous "sisters"!

Shortly thereafter, I would have stolen

the popular one’s major throb.

Pork chops and applesaucely,!
SparkleBrady~~~~~*

Sweet dreams, Mollo and ZuZu.