The Daily Grin

• Announce that you would like to start a new family tradition, and proceed to take off your clothes at the dinner table.
• Open the oven, shove hunks of Velveeta cheese into the turkey while it cooks. Tell mom it adds the coolest flavor.
• Shoot olive pits at Grandpa's glasses. (Just pinch them in your fingers and they FLY!!)
• Whenever someone at the table says a word beginning with the letter R, make a loud "BUZZ"ing noise.
• Suck your cranberry sauce loudly through a straw.
• Bring a date that only talks about her/his spouse at home.
• Hold your nose while you eat.
• Announce that you've got a new fear of choking.
• When you arrive, promise that your date won't be more than an hour late, he/she just has to wait for the warden to get together all the necessary release forms, and then they are free to go.

// posted by Daily Grin @ 10/14/2004 10:15:00 PM 0 comments

• Here are a few signs that you may be in need of professional help:
• You serve wine to your guests in conch shells.
• You serve entrees in an attractive real bird's nest you found in a nearby forest.
• You make your own Jell-O from calves' hooves rather than buy the powdered stuff.
• You decorate your cakes with pieces of ceramic, bundles of chiffon, buttons, marbles and other inedible stuff because "it looks so pretty."
• You've macramed yourself a computer cozy from yarn, recycled plastic and pop-top rings.
• You've smeared the walls with yogurt so that over time a natural-looking greenish mold will grow, giving your home the fashionably distressed look of an ancient Greek temple.
• You sleep outside the house, in a tent, so that you don't spoil your perfectly made bed.
• All of the grass in your front yard is French braided.
• Each and every flower in the back yard is wrapped in raffia and sports a shiny red bow.
• Before you go to bed at night, you spend hours on your hobby farm putting the wool on your sheep's bodies in hot rollers, so they will look more fluffy and glamorous than the neighbor's.

// posted by Daily Grin @ 10/12/2004 10:02:00 PM 0 comments

• If you've got melted chocolate all over your hands, you're eating it too slowly.
• Chocolate covered raisins, cherries, orange slices and strawberries all count as fruit, so eat as many as you want.
• The problem: How to get 2 pounds of chocolate home from the store in hot car.
  The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.
• Diet tip: Eat a chocolate bar before each meal. It'll take the edge off your appetite and you'll eat less.
• A nice box of chocolates can provide your total daily intake of calories in one place. Isn't that handy?
• If calories are an issue, store your chocolate on top of the fridge. Calories are afraid of heights, and they will jump out of the chocolate to protect themselves.
• If I eat equal amounts of dark chocolate and white chocolate, is that a balanced diet? Don't they actually counteract eachother?
• Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger.
• Q. Why is there no such organization as Chocoholics Anonymous?
  A. Because no one wants to quit.
• Money talks. Chocolate sings. Beautifully.
• Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger. Therefore, you need to eat more chocolate.
• Put "eat chocolate" at the top of your list of things to do today. That way, at least you'll get one thing done.
• If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's wrong with you?
• If not for chocolate, there would be no need for control top pantyhose. An entire garment industry would be devastated. You can't let that happen, can you?

// posted by Daily Grin @ 10/11/2004 11:58:00 PM 0 comments

Only a woman will TRULY relate to the following, but it's fun for all!

My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd bring me in the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, never sit on a public toilet seat. And she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the Toilet seat. But by this time, I'd have wet down my leg and we'd go home.

That was a long time ago. Even now in our more mature years, The Stance is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially full. When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you find a line of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Nelly's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely. And you finally get closer. You check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is occupied.

Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter. You hang your purse on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume "The Stance." Relief. More relief. Then your thighs begin to shake. You'd love to sit down but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold The Stance as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale.

To take your mind off it, you reach for the toilet paper. The toilet paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on-that's in your purse. It would have to do. You crumble it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work and your purse whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your tissue in a puddle and falling backward, directly onto the toilet seat. You get up quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat because you never laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had enough time to. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, "You don't know what kind of diseases you could get."

And by this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain and then it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to China.

At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the splashing water.

You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a Chicklet wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the sinks with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and unable to smile politely at this point.

One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Mississippi River! You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and say warmly, "Here. You might need this."

At this time, you see your man, who has entered, used and exited his bathroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you. "What took you so long?" he asks, annoyed... This is when you kick him sharply in the shin and go home.

This is dedicated to all women everywhere who have ever had to deal with a public toilet. And it finally explains to all you men what takes us so long.

PS - The answer to the other question, why do women go in pairs. It's so the other woman can hold the door and hand you Kleenex.

~~~

// posted by Daily Grin @ 10/09/2004 10:45:00 PM 0 comments