Friday Frippery

My friend, Karyn, has Freaky Friday, so I’ve decided to call my Friday blogs, Friday Frippery. What is frippery, you ask? Well…my dictionary (which is older than dirt) defines frippery as: 1. finery in dress especially when tawdry. 2. empty display; ostentation. 3. trifles. Now that you have been dutifully enlightened, here goes.

1. I learned yesterday that my illustrious boss is claiming credit for an idea that I advanced at a meeting the other day. How’s that for frippery?

Want more? (I doubt it.) Nevertheless, you are free to use the remote if you find my frippery irrelevant. Actually, I’m striving for tawdry today, meaning gaudy and cheap; vulgarly ornamental. I like tawdry. This is going to be my forum where I can be my inane, irregular, irrevant, irrelvant, irresponsiple, smart ass self.

WARNING: The opions expressed in this column are not ncessarily those of management. (He,he! I've always wanted to say that.)

2. I was feeling pretty grody (as in grow-dee) by the end of the day on Thursday. If you’re not familiar with grody, it’s a cross between gross and yucky. I couldn’t take a shower for 24 hours after my epidural on Wednesday. So even though I took a PTA (pussy, tits and armpits) bath as my mother used to say back in the days before she became so sanctimonious. Now, nothing so crass as armpits sullies her saintly lips. No, I'm not making fun of my mother. I've just come to terms with who she is.

3. Speaking of which, Mom is the only human being in the history of mankind who has had two immaculate conceptions. Sex? She never had sex.

4. My father, who was quick to tell everyone he had 2 (count them, that’s two) degrees in education, entertained some very strange ideas about how to pronounce certain words. Take bomb for instance, according to WT, it was pronounced “bumb” because it had a short “o”, unlike grody. At one time, I lived in the Simi Valley in CA. The main/only drag in town was Tapo ST/BLVD/AVE, I can’t remember which. Nevertheless (I like nevertheless, too), according to WT, it was pronounced “Tapia” because his good friend Mr. R who was also a teacher pronounced it that way. And if another teacher called it “Tapia”, well…you get the idea.

5. Chili Didget. What ever happened to the woman who put a finger in her bowl of Wendy's chili? I want to know if it was fried, fricasseed, broiled, boiled, stewed, sauteed or barbequed. But, more importantly, WHO'S finger was it and WHERE did she get it? Perhaps she's another Loraina Bobbett and cut off her husband's pe---, oops that's finger while he was sleeping. Instead of throwing it in the middle of a busy intersection from the window of a speeding car, this woman decided to put it in her chili. EWE, grody!

So…have I been tawdry enough for Friday Frippery? Tune in next Friday and I'll see what other unrelated, rediculos bits of gaudy and cheap nonsense I can come up with. If not educational, at least I can be offensive.

TTFN