What the holy heck is this?

Martian spit?

Dandruff from an angel?

The gook that comes out of a moose when it sneezes?

This stuff is all over our field, and I’m worried.
Will it hatch? What will it become?
Please advise.

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This post brought to you by Anything You Ask, my novella.
Can a temporary marriage survive so many secrets?
Available for $2.99 in the Kindle store.
On sale for all readers in July.

Some recommend taking the path less travelled.
Let’s do it.

Funny, this looks like some lush Garden of Eden.
Wait, did you see a naked man?
You’re so lucky. I see trees.

Hand the naked man a leaf, for Pete’s sake.
A very LARGE leaf, please.
Oh, look here.

I do believe we’ve found something extraordinary. A “beauty tree.”
What do you suppose is the secret to beauty?
Well, look no further. The answer is hanging on a branch.

What is the tree trying to tell us?

(a) drink more water
(b) find the naked man
(c) stay out of the woods
(d) don’t eat strange mushrooms

Please advise…

Do you ever want run through a china shop and break all the dishes?
Are you tempted to yell “Hurry up” in the middle of a sermon?
Please tell me I’m not the only one.

The other day, I was soooooo tempted to scoop up a handful of tadpoles…and eat ‘em.

You’re nodding your head in sympathy, right?
You’ve wanted to slurp down some tadpoles, huh? Please?

Hello? Is anyone out there?

I was desperate to escape the urge to snack on tadpoles.
I needed a distraction, FAST.
Ah, what’s this?

A vine!
Tarzan uses vines to travel through the forest.
And Tarzan is waaaaay more appetizing than tadpoles.

I held tight, hoped into the air, and swung across the marsh.
Tarzan would not be able to resist such feminine grace and…SPLASH.

As it turned out, I did swallow a tadpole.
It tasted a lot like chicken.

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Many thanks to all of you who downloaded a free copy of Anything You Ask
during our promotion last week. Thanks to your support, my novella reached
#1 in Contemporary Fiction and #1 in Women’s Fiction in the Free Kindle Store.

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What is the weirdest thing you ate?

I like to beat my husband. Do you?
I beat him as often as possible, especially when he’s pestering me.
Regular beatings help keep a marriage equal…and just make me feel good.

Wait a minute. I’m talking about beating my husband at basketball. You knew that, right?

Unfortunately, I have to keep beating my husband because I vacuumed my car.
Yep, I vacuumed my car right after our honeymoon, and sucked up the film from our trip.

That was back in the fifteenth century, when folks used 35 mm film.
My film happened to have pictures that PROVED I beat him in a game of arcade basketball.

That voracious car vacuum has caused nearly 25 years of marital strife.
Every time we pass an arcade, I have to prove myself AGAIN.

So, admit it. You like to beat your spouse, too.

What is the game you try your darnedest to win against your beloved?

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My book, Anything You Ask, is FREE on Kindle until May 18th.
If you like contemporary romance, click here and grab a copy!
The story will be available for other ebook formats in July.

]]> http://www.forloveorfunny.com/2013/05/i-like-to-beat-my-husband-do-you/feed/ 6 http://www.forloveorfunny.com/2013/05/perhaps-flashing-my-bra-wasnt-a-good-idea/ http://www.forloveorfunny.com/2013/05/perhaps-flashing-my-bra-wasnt-a-good-idea/#comments Wed, 15 May 2013 09:00:53 +0000 Lynn http://www.forloveorfunny.com/?p=7822

Ever want to make men go slack-jawed in amazement the instant you appear?
Go to a golf course. Guys faint when they see a woman on their turf.
Frankly, I’m getting tired of the reaction.

In fact, I kind of had a meltdown two days ago at the golf club.

My husband took me golfing for Mother’s Day.
All the other guys acted like they’ve never seen a woman before.
They stared at me like I’d sprouted two strange lumps on my ribcage.

I got mad. I decided to show them I belonged, darn it.
I thought it would be cool to hop out of our golf cart while it was still moving.
I’m an athlete, after all. Why not show off my coordination and grace?

As I disembarked, I felt myself trip.
For an instant, I thought I could land on my feet.

Wrong.

I fell face first into the grass.
Worse, I rolled down a small knoll toward the group of men who watched.

Behind me, my husband yelled “Man overboard!”
I curled up in the grass and laughed so hard, I couldn’t budge.
My attempt to look cool was a complete failure, and I found it hysterical.
Wouldn’t it be great if all of our failures were so entertaining?

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My book, Anything You Ask, is FREE on Kindle until May 18th.
If you like contemporary romance, click here and grab a copy!
The story will be available for other ebook formats in July.

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Have you ever taken a fall when you were trying to look “cool?”

I found a packet of drink mix in my pantry.
I had no idea how long it was hidden beneath the crackers.
No matter. I dumped it into the pitcher and added water.

It tasted funny.

I got away with drinking the first glass without any ill effects.
I decided to have a second glass.

Guess I like to live dangerously.

So, I just noticed a whisker growing on my chin.
I think the side effects of drinking bad punch are starting.

If I sprout a full beard in the next twenty minutes, I’m not leaving the house.
However, I’ve always loved mustaches. Perhaps I’ll get lucky!

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I have no idea why I posted pictures of my azaleas. Do you?

My bad habits have caught up with me.
Saying bad words and hiding cookies led me to Hell.
Fortunately, I had my camera with me. This is what Hell looks like:

There’s no raging fires or writhing pits of anguished souls.
Contrary to popular opinion, the devil is a green thumb.

He has planted Elaeagnus Angustifolia all over Hell.
It blooms this time of year.

Oh, the pollen.
The suffering it imposes.
The sneezy, watery-eyed misery.

Even the ladybugs aren’t immune to the pollen. It’s everywhere.
So, next time you curse in front of your kids, throw some Benedryl into your pocket.
You’re gonna need it when you suddenly find yourself walking through Hell’s lush, verdant meadow.

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This post brought to you by Anything You Ask, my new novella.
* Can a temporary marriage produce lasting love? *
Available now for Kindle. On sale for Nook and other ebook readers in July.

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What makes you sneeze?

Don’t pay any attention to these pictures.
I’m posting them so my husband thinks I’m writing about birds.
Winged creatures have NOTHING to do with this post.

So, last night I dreamt about Dominic.
He lived down the street from me. He was dreamy.
I had a secret crush on him, but I never had the guts to talk to him.

Last night, I finally gathered the courage to ask him to the prom.
To my astonishment, he said yes! Yikes! What was I thinking?
What would we talk about? Would we have a good time?
Who would pay for the tickets? Me? or him?

Turns out, the night went perfectly.
He was so nice to me. We danced, we laughed.
We made out in the dark corner for an extended period of time.

Ever since I woke up, I’ve been kicking myself for being so shy in high school.
If my dream was any clue about what might’ve been, I should’ve talked to Dominic for real.
I would’ve had a LOT more fun at prom instead of being stuck at the jock table with kids I didn’t know.

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And that, my friends, is how you make a sturdy birdhouse for your avian friends.

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If you could overcome shyness, who would you talk to?

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A high-pitched scream echoed through my house last night.
I immediately recognized the voice. It was my daughter.
After the scream…silence.

My heart squeezed all the way up into my throat.
I called upstairs. “Are you all right?” No response.
I imagined a number of scenarios. None of them were good.

I grabbed a couch pillow, the only viable weapon nearby.
I ran upstairs and tripped twice, ready to ward off the intruder.
Yeah, I know a pillow doesn’t exactly inspire fear but it was all I had at the time.

I burst into my kid’s room, waving the pillow like a madwoman.
My daughter wadded up a Kleenex and tossed it into the garbage can.
“Sorry about the scream, Mom. I found a stinkbug on my history textbook.”

I nodded and walked outside, where I buried ten years of my life under the green grass.
FYI, the only time I ever scream is when I see my husband naked. It’s a scream of delight.
The next time that happens, I’ll tell my kids not to worry…I saw a stinkbug in my bedroom.

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This post brought to you by Anything You Ask, my new novella.
* Can a temporary marriage produce lasting love? *
Available now for Kindle. Available for Nook and other ebook readers in July.

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When was the last time you screamed?

I pulled on my gardening gloves, took a large swig of alfalfa juice, and stomped into the cool, wet soil.
It was time for the Juniper bush to go. The garden was choked by it’s spiny, overgrown branches.

I grabbed the twisted branches. It bit me, scratching my arms all over.
Muttering an oath, I grabbed a rake and beat the living heck out of the Juniper…

…and the limp, lifeless body of a toad rolled into view.
A casualty of war.

 Awash with grief, I fell to my knees and shook my fists at the heavens.
How would I overcome my guilt at taking the life of an innocent amphibian?
Perhaps all was not lost. I could administer CPR on the way to the vet’s office.

Wait a minute. Where’d he go?

He needed medical help.
I wasn’t going to let him down.
Perhaps the sun had woken him up,
but I was the one who would nurse him back to health.

Ah, there he is…

I slowly extended my arm.
Just a few more inches, and I could grab him.
My fingers opened, I took a deep breath, and then…
my shirt caught on the Juniper and the toad scrambled under the spiny branches.

That is why there is still an ugly Juniper in my garden.

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This post brought to you by Anything You Ask, my new novella.
Available now for Kindle. Available for Nook and other ebook readers in July.