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Archive for the 'Recreation & Fun Humor' Category

Me Gamble? No Dice!

Monday, October 29th, 2007

Something tells me that writing this post amounts to begging for more spam. If so, I’ll just have to post some extra spam haiku.

But getting back to today’s joker of a topic, last year, when my husband Mark and I vacationed in Las Vegas, Mark gambled away twenty bucks — tops, and I didn’t gamble at all.  Okay, I did get on a plane, but other than that…  

And that brings me to today’s limerick:

Me Gamble? No Dice!
By Madeleine Begun Kane

You should never play cards on a lark
With a Vegas-style card-wielding shark.
Whether blackjack or poker,
Don’t deal with a joker
And gamble at being a mark.

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Toying With Kites

Tuesday, October 23rd, 2007

Toying With Kites (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

The sight of a kite in the sky
Is delightful and lovely, so why
Is it quite impolite
To say, “Go fly a kite!”
This idiom just doesn’t fly.

(You’ll find more kite poetry and prose here. And you can find more of my outdoor sports humor here.)

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A Horse Of A Different Color

Sunday, October 21st, 2007

These two horse-related poems were loosely inspired by this week’s Totally Optional Prompt:

First, a limerick:

A Horse of A Different Color
By Madeleine Begun Kane

There are folks who succumb to a weakness
For races like Belmont and Preakness.
But there’s only one horse
Race I’ll bet on—the course
To the White House—a sign of my geekness?

And now, a haiku about New York City:

Trumpeting cars horns.
Clip-clopping carriage horses.
Central Park Sunday.

(You can find more of my horse humor here.)

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And now some links, for your reading pleasure:
* Feminism At Its Finest
* Carnival of the Insanities
* Carnival Of Satire
* Blog Carnival of Observations On Life
* All Women Blogging Carnival
* Anything Goes Blog Carnival

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Chick Flick Flack

Sunday, October 7th, 2007

Chick Flick Flack
By Madeleine Begun Kane

When a film’s called a chick flick, it’s meant
To appeal to most women. How bent!
I’m a gal through and through,
But those flicks make me boo,
While my husband applauds. What a gent!

(You can find more of my marriage humor here and my feminist humor here.)

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Yoga For What???

Sunday, June 10th, 2007

I love animals, so I can understand why pet owners sometimes get a bit carried away.  But this takes the kibble:

Yoga for What???
By Madeleine Begun Kane

There is yoga for doggies, I swear—
Caught a canine-filled class on the air;
Watched the owners and pets
Stretch and pose in their sweats—
Cosmic moolah they must have to spare.

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Motor Boating Just Isn’t Our Speed (Humor Column)

Tuesday, June 5th, 2007

My husband Mark and I were never meant to own a motor boat. Why not? Any couple who can’t figure out how to open their car hood, should probably stick to something propelled by oars. And we surely would have done just that, had the prior owner of our weekend home not made it a package deal. If we wanted his irresistible house, we’d have to spring for his 120 horse power boat — perfect for anyone whose idea of relaxation is charging across a rocky three mile lake at the speed of screams.

OUR FIRST TIME OUT: My husband — a man who can build a wood stove fire in a flash, who whips up gourmet feasts in fifteen languages — couldn’t figure out how to unhook the boat’s cover. Refusing my help, he struggled for an hour. Victorious at last he hurled the cover off, in the process spilling gallons of water all over the boat.

By then I was ready to bail out. But Mark handed me a pail, and we spent the next 45 minutes heaving water overboard. Once all the water was safely under the boat, it was time to begin boating. I optimistically climbed onto our 16 footer, while my husband worked the knots from ashore. A former boy scout, he did this rather well. So well, that the boat (free at last) started to drift without him. ….   (Motor Boating Just Isn’t Our Speed continues here.)

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Night On The Town — Judy Carmichael, Stride Pianist

Sunday, May 6th, 2007

I live in New York City, so my husband Mark and I often catch great musical acts, plays, art shows, and other entertainment and cultural diversions in the Big Apple.

Why don’t I write about our New York fun?  I keep meaning to, but quickly forget to. Blame ADD, a bad memory, or just being a wee bit disorganized.

Anyway, I’ve decided to launch a new posting category — Night On The Town — in which I’ll write more regularly about our Manhattan adventures … in theory, anyway.

And what better way to start, than with the wonderful Judy Carmichael!  We caught her stride piano act Friday night at the Knickerbocker Bar and Grill, and she was excellent, as always. Mark and I own every one of her recordings!

For those who don’t know what stride piano is, it’s a musical style that originated in Harlem early in the 20th century.  And nobody does it better than Judy Carmichael.  In fact I love her playing so much, I’ve written her a limerick:

Ode To Judy Carmichael (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Judy Carmichael’s known for her stride.
She’s a pianist of note far and wide—
A female Fats Waller.
You’ll whoop and you’ll holler
With joy at her musical ride.

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It’s Not That I Don’t Like Movies, But…

Saturday, March 24th, 2007

It’s Not That I Don’t Like Movies, But…
By Madeleine Begun Kane

I prefer to catch movies at home,
Not in theaters where tall fellows roam.
There they prowl, on the hunt
For the seat right in front,
To bestow a great view of their dome. 

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Sibling Trickster

Monday, March 5th, 2007

Sibling Trickster
By Madeleine Begun Kane

“Pick a card,” was a phrase I would hear
As a child, from my brother, all year.
He did card tricks—his hobby.
I’d answer, quite snobby:
“Magician, please go. Disappear!”

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Surmounting Marriage

Tuesday, February 13th, 2007

Surmounting Marriage
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Before agreeing to marry my husband Mark, I asked him the usual questions:

  1. Do you know what a hamper is and have you ever actually used one?
  2. Do you spend weekends sprawled in front of a sports-spewing screen, devouring couch potato chips?
  3. Are your parents likely to drive me to drink?

Mark told the appropriate fibs, I pretended to believe him, and several months later we wed. But soon after the wedding, I realized I’d forgotten to ask the most important question of all: When you see a mountain, do you get an irresistible urge to do something stupid?  (Surmounting Marriage is continued here.)

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Healthy, Or Half-Baked?

Monday, January 15th, 2007

Healthy, Or Half-Baked?
By Madeleine Begun Kane

My spouse likes to lie in the sun,
Absorbing those rays just for fun.
As for me, I hate sweat.
I’d not bask on a bet.
It’s unsav’ry to bake till you’re done.

(My health humor is collected here.)

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Ode To Ambling

Tuesday, December 19th, 2006

Ode To Ambling
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Deserting my day-to-day scramble
When the weather is nice, I will amble,
Just taking my time
While I’m still in my prime,
My terminus strictly a gamble. 

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Ode To The Segway Scooter

Friday, September 15th, 2006

How’s this for a corporate nightmare? Every Segway Personal Transporter ever manufactured has been recalled due to a “software glitch in the scooters that can make riders fall.”

This recall calls out for a limerick, don’t you think? So here’s my Ode To The Segway Scooter:

The maker of scooters called Segway
Has recalled them from road, walk, and hedgeway.
Their software’s quite galling.
It’s prone to cause falling.
Now lawyers have fresh “we allege” prey.

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Taking A Vacation On The Contract Plan

Tuesday, September 5th, 2006

Planning a vacation can often be a daunting challenge. Especially when one spouse likes to rough it and the other prefers luxuries like toilets, showers, and cable TV. So what’s a couple to do? Well, they can take separate trips. Or they can negotiate and sign on the dotted line.

AGREEMENT, entered into this _________, 20__ by Husband and Wife.

WHEREAS, Husband’s ideal vacation requires hiking boots, compasses, sleeping bags, and knapsacks and doesn’t cost a dime;

WHEREAS, Wife’s ideal vacation requires a five star resort;

WHEREAS, Husband is a spontaneous kind of guy who likes to pick his trips by throwing a coin onto a trail map; … ((Taking A Vacation On The Contract Plan is continued here.)

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Jump, Jive, and Sweat

Monday, August 28th, 2006

“You’re gonna swing dance in this weather? Are you insane?”

I’ve been asked that a lot lately, which isn’t surprising when you consider this summer’s humidity and heat wave. New York City’s weather has been so unbearable, that felons have switched from car theft to stealing AC’s. … (Jump, Jive, and Sweat is continued here.)

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Sparring Over Spare Time

Friday, August 25th, 2006

Do you and your spouse argue about how to spend your spare time? Togetherness can be tough to achieve when a couple’s interests just don’t jibe. But this contract may be just the cure for your spare time blues.

AGREEMENT entered into on _____, 20__ between opera-buff Wife and sports-fan Husband.

WHEREAS, Husband has been badgering Wife to attend a ball game for as long as they’ve been married, and he has never managed to reach first base;

WHEREAS, Wife has been pressuring Husband to go to the opera for years, and Husband is running out of excuses; and

WHEREAS, Husband and Wife know that if they don’t resolve this soon, each will be attending all functions solo.

NOW, THEREFORE, the parties hereby agree to the following spare time terms:

    1. Wife will attend one ball-type game, the selection of which shall be in Husband’s sole discretion, and Husband will attend one opera performance, the selection of which shall be in Wife’s sole discretion. In exercising such discretion, both spouses will keep in mind that divorce lawyers are really expensive … (Sparring Over Spare Time is continued here.)

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Tubing Blues

Sunday, August 20th, 2006

Tubing — the masochistic act of hurtling down a fall-fraught river while clinging to an inner tube. Somehow my husband Mark talked me, a devout wimp, into trying it.

Why did I go along for the rocky river ride? Perhaps I was dazed by the beauty of the Catskill Mountains’ Esopus River. Perhaps the brave (or foolish) teens who plunged heedlessly into the Esopus shamed me into it. Or maybe I was feeling guilty for being a perennial naysayer. Whatever the reason, one summer day I broke my first rule of survival: If they advise helmets, avoid it.

Before risking the river we signed a paper saying our survivors couldn’t sue. Then Mark paced while I interrogated the clerk about safety. Jagged rock protection was high on her (and my) list. Sneakers for the feet, a helmeted head, and plywood in the tube to protect the tush.

After a short, steep bus ride up river, the driver said “Just throw your tubes into the river and get in.” He pointed towards what looked suspiciously like waterfalls.

Foolish me, I’d assumed there’d be an attendant to provide advice, guidance, and moral support. And to hold the damn tube in place long enough for me to lower myself onto it and grab its pathetic excuse for handles. At the very least, they could have posted a sign saying, “Start your death ride here.” … (Tubing Blues is continued here.)

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