True, embellished and fictional stories for your amusertainment

The Weed

Foreward: We have a Siberian Elm tree in our backyard. It is often referred to as a weed tree because it grows fast and is difficult to kill. We recently had it trimmed. Stephen has an affinity for weeds.

Stephen: I’m growing Daisy Fleabane again.

Daisy Fleabane

Pam: Where?

Stephen: By the roses.

Pam: Why?

Stephen: I don’t know – it grows fast and looks okay.

Pam: It’s a weed – of course it grows fast. It could also take over and kill the roses.

Stephen: I just like it.

Pam: You and your weeds! We have one of the tallest weeds on the planet in our backyard and we just paid a gazzilion dollars to have it trimmed. I would think that would be enough weed for you!

Our weed tree


Stephen: Did you hear what you just said?

Silence… thinking…

Raucous laughter.

Maybe I should try selling our tree trimmings.

Truth in advertising

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,


The Sting of Reality

On my morning walk, I witnessed a wasp gorging on the remains of a dead praying mantis.

It wasn’t your typical looking wasp

When the creature realized it had been caught in this shameful act, it began stalking me. Thirty minutes later when I least expected an unprovoked attack, it stung me. (It could have been a different wasp, but I don’t think so.)

It got me good

When I was describing the incident to my sisters, it was suggested that perhaps I wasn’t bitten by an ordinary wasp but rather a vampire wasp! As frightening as it seemed, I agreed. After all, the incident occurred during the month of All Hallows Eve and once the swelling went down, there were twin bite marks.

Ordinary Vampire Wasp

Then I wondered if I, myself, would transform into a vampire

I look okay as a vampire

or if I would simply become a vampire wasp familiar – attending to its every need.

This isn’t such a good look

Now that time has passed, I realize that I’m nothing more than a WASP bitch!

WASP Bitch

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,

Pam, WASP Bitch

Good Bones

This house has good bones


This week I received the most interesting texts.

These were the first messages and then it became serious – she sent a photo.

I didn’t respond again because I thought that I could be the victim of catfishing. She might be related to that Nigerian prince I used to date. In all probability, she doesn’t look like her photo at all. Worst case scenario, she is a he who lives in his mom’s basement and looks like this.

Regardless of whether her interest in me is genuine, I found evidence online that she’s stepping out behind my back. She sent the same messages to other people only her name wasn’t Marilyn! She’s definitely related to my prince.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,


Stool Softener

The effect of using too much stool softener

The Shoes

As we’re preparing to go on our morning walk.

Stephen: What are you staring at?

Pam: Your shoes.

Stephen: My shoes? What about them?

Pam: They look terrible.

Stephen: These are my old Filas. They aren’t very comfortable – they squish my toes.

Pam: You have a closet full of comfortable shoes. Why wear them at all?

Stephen: They’re worn out. This will be the last time I wear them.

Pam: We’re walking two frickin’ miles this morning. Take those off and throw them out now. Put on a pair of comfortable shoes.

With his head down, Stephen did as directed and his feet felt great during our walk. The old shoes are in the garbage. Life’s short, wear the good shoes.

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,


Cracked Egg

Silvio cracked under the pressure and ratted on his friends

Wrinkle Riddle

Stephen’s been wearing a lot of t-shirts this summer. He always looks fashionable, but lately I’ve noticed that many of his shirts are wrinkled. I fold the laundry and when I hand off Stephen’s clothes, they’re wrinkle free. Pondering over this conundrum, I asked Stephen about it.

Pam: You look nice today, but your shirt is wrinkled.

Stephen pats the front of his shirt, stretches it down.

Stephen: There. How does it look now?

Pam: It’s still wrinkled. What do you do with your shirts when you put them away?

Stephen: I fold them.

Pam: How do you fold them?

Stephen: I don’t know.

Then I looked down at our napkins.

Can you tell which one is mine?

Pam: Do you wad them up and throw them in a drawer?

Stephen: Of course not!

Pam: Do you fold them like you folded your napkin on the table?

Stephen: Maybe.

Mystery solved!

May the farce be with you!

Your IFF,


This is after he smoothed the wrinkles

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