Tag Archives: books

Gone Fishing? Well no, we’ve gone (Carrie) Fisher instead

I was going to post a clever Wonder Woman-themed gif to let you know we’re off to spend some quality time doing as little as possible on Siesta Key.

Alas, Florida had to suffer without our presence, because I broke my foot the day of our scheduled departure. That’s probably also why I forgot to post. It’s been a challenging time.

To be fair, our week hasn’t been nearly as challenging as the one had by this family in Cape Coral, Florida. They discovered a 4 foot monitor lizard living in their attic.

I figure not having a giant carnivorous lizard living in the attic is a big win and I should stop complaining.

Story courtesy of Craig Pittman, aka @craigtimes on Twitter.

But back to me, because this is all about me, damnit.

Husband named my cast Boba Foot. Admittedly, it was funnier when I was still taking painkillers, but it still makes me laugh.

We almost immediately started referring to it exclusively by name. I go back to see the surgeon next week and you know it’s going to blurt out of my mouth, so that could be fun.

On a Star Wars-related tangent, we started listening to Carrie Fisher’s audiobook of The Princess Diarist. I read it the day it came out, but since Husband hasn’t, it was in our road-trip entertainment stash.

I enjoyed the book when I first read it, but now that Fisher is dead it’s a bit sad, especially since I keep picturing her reading selections aloud to Gary.

Last night while we were listening, Husband suddenly sat bolt upright on the couch and snatched up his laptop. I paused the book and asked the most obvious question: “Are you looking for pictures of Gary?”

Husband didn’t actually think this was the most obvious question. I don’t know what’s wrong with him sometimes.

Happy Wednesday everyone, I’m back ??? #garyloveshisfans #garyloveshismom #garyfisher #garymisseshismom

A post shared by Gary Fisher (@garyfisher) on

He never did tell me what he needed to look up, or maybe I was too distracted by pictures of Gary to hear him.

Monster Jokes and Riddles

Recently, my favorite contrarian, Casey Rae, mentioned that he was running out of jokebooks with bad puns and corny riddles suitable for precocious little girls. I knew exactly the book their kid needed, because I adored it myself: Normal Bridwell’s Monster Jokes and Riddles.

It was probably my very first book fair purchase with my very own money. If, by “my very own money” you mean: “money my parents gave me for the book fair.” Which I probably do – the details are hazy.

I hadn’t thought about this book in YEARS, but I remembered how much fun the illustrations were and how funny I thought the jokes were. It was fun to re-connect with the source of a great deal of childhood joy.


Norman Bridwell's Monsters Jokes and Riddles (1972)
Front Cover: Norman Bridwell’s Monsters Jokes and Riddles (1972)

monsterback

Back Cover: Norman Bridwell’s Monsters Jokes and Riddles (1972)

My parents probably found this book to be less of a source of joy, because the jokes? The jokes are terrible.

And I loved them.

How terrible?

werewolfjoke

I’m pretty sure my mom used to hide the book under my bed in hopes I’d forget about it and quit telling her these jokes over and over and over.

Author Norman Bridwell is perhaps best known as the creator of Clifford of the Big Red Dog.

By the time I got my hands on this book, I’d heard vampire stories from my grandmother, who wasn’t as skilled in the art of the bedtime story as maybe she could have been. And I was terrified by Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein the first time I saw it. I think I understood it was a comedy, but…monsters!

I realize now that I was enjoying the fruits of the larger cultural shift that had transformed classic cinematic and literary monsters into humorous commodities on which the previous generation of children could spend their allowances. I didn’t understand that at the time, of course, but forty years later it’s my professional life, so I figured I should work it in here somehow.

Abbott and Costello aside, Brother and I certainly weren’t allowed to watch horror movies. The closest thing I got to horror was the Gothic lunacy of Disneyworld’s Haunted Mansion, which I still adore.

I’d never thought about what my first exposure to mummies was, but this joke book and Scooby-Doo are probably at the top of the list
.

What did the Pharoah say when he saw a lot of boll weevil bugs from the cotton fields stealing a mummy? “Mummy is the loot of all weevils.”

Needless to say, the joke book was an instant hit in Casey’s house. I bet he’s heard the one about what happened when the Frankenstein Monster asked for the girl’s hand in marriage (that was all he got) about a thousand times by now. I guess they’re still really busy enjoying it, because Casey hasn’t returned any of my texts!

Only kidding.

Casey’s probably avoiding me because of that other thing…