Guest In Jest #102 Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks

Thanks to Cecilia for from Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks for sending in a submission for Guest in Jest!  The series continues, albeit on a semi-regular basis!

A Weekend Romp through Vancouver, Canada—Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks Style

 

View from Yaletown waterfront.  Photo by Cecilia Kennedy

For skort-shredding, grit-in-the-teeth, foot-blistering fun, tour Vancouver, Canada like your child is away visiting relatives and you and your spouse might not get a vacation alone again in a very long time.  That’s just what Nate and I did this past weekend.  We toured. We toured hard.  We lit up the streets with the friction between our thighs—we were walking that fast.  And we rocked it.  We rocked it hard.  Here’s how you can rock it in Vancouver too:

  • Stay at the Executive Hotel LeSoleilon Hornby Street. We always stay there when we visit Vancouver and we’re never disappointed. Here’s why:

It’s not haunted at all.  I made up a ghost story that took place in this hotel a year or two ago during my Halloween “blog blitz.” I was trying to do a ghost tour on the cheap by DIYing it. The blog post was called: “Haunted DIY Ghost Stories of Vancouver, Canada”and the results are just what you would expect from the Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks team:  unusual, bizarre snippets of absurdity provided in the hopes of a laugh or two.  I just want to take the opportunity now to tell you all for real—in case there was any doubt or confusion due to previous blog posts—that in this hotel, you will not wake up in the morning all possessed and stuff.  In fact, this last time, when I did fall asleep for a moment or two, I had a beautiful dream about receiving two separate emails about two short stories I’d sent to literary magazine editors in the hopes of publishing them.  In my dream, both emails indicated that two different magazines would accept the stories in question.  This dream was so fantastic and real, that when I woke up in the morning, I used my phone to immediately check my emails.  However, I did not get any acceptances from literary magazine editors. Instead, I got a rejection for a story that I’m having a hard time placing.  It’s called “The Change” and it’s about an ax-wielding menopausal Sasquatch named Chloe, who finds her purpose in life.  I’m hoping to get it published because I think it can help a lot of people.  It’s kind of a Dear God, it’s me, Margaret . . . but for menopausal Sasquatches.  Maybe it’ll end up in the self-help aisle of a bookstore someday. Who knows?  In any case, I don’t blame the hotel for my story rejection.  The mattress on the bed is very soft and the rooms are tastefully and luxuriously appointed. I always feel like a queen, but not one that’s trapped in a Sasquatch’s body—unlike some other hotels I may have stayed in while on vacation, but that story can wait for now.

  • DO eat at the Copper Chimney Restaurantin the hotel. Ignore the 3.8 rating on Google.  This place deserves a much higher rating.  At first, Nate and I tried really hard to pay attention to that rating. Here’s a sample of our conversation beforehand:

Me: I don’t know. This place has a 3.8 rating.  Do you really think we should eat here?

Nate:  A drink couldn’t hurt, I suppose.

Me:  Oh, no—you’re right. A drink does not hurt at all.

So, we bellied up to the bar. I had a rosé and Nate had a Moscow mule and some yucca fries that came with a delightful sauce.  We were just beginning to relax and unwind, when we received alarming texts from Alex, who was supposed to be in Chicago boarding a plane to Dayton, Ohio to visit relatives. However, his flight kept getting delayed and delayed and delayed. We weren’t sure if he would ever leave Chicago.  I was in complete freak out mode. Though Alex is 16, this is my first time as a “free range parent.”   That’s when the manager on duty sprang into action. He served me more wine and helped Nate and me move to a table where we could set up a “nerve center.”   From this strategic site, I texted hundreds of heart and poop emojis to Alex. Then, I texted even more heart and poop emojis to my parents and brother and sister, asking for a prayer chain to invoke St. Christopher and whoever the saints of wine, headaches, and nervous stomachs might be.  Nate, on the other hand, was more sophisticated with his texts. He sent Alex gifs of monkeys crashing planes and dancing.  Then, the food came to the table and it was delicious: fresh, fluffy naan straight from the clay ovens. I ordered a tikka shrimp dish that was so spicy and flavorful—and cooked perfectly.  Nate’s butter chicken sauce was really, really good too because I tried it by dipping a piece of naan into the sauce.  The food was a delightful distraction, but we were still worried.  The manager came by to check on us and reminded us about our options for Alex at the airport—other than texting nonsense.  We could call the airport and request that an agent check on Alex to make sure he was okay.  Then, he told us about his flying experiences. One delay of his was so bad that he missed his connecting plane, which would have put him on the doomed Malaysian Airlines 370 flight.  So, now we were glad that Alex was safe on the ground at this point.  However, after my third glass of wine, Alex was finally on a plane and he landed in Dayton an hour later. Long live the tikka shrimp, rosé, and night manager on duty 6/28/19 at this restaurant!

We also ate at the Season’s restaurant, which overlooks the gardens that continued to captivate me. Here’s a snippet of the conversation I shared with Nate:

Me:  My beer tastes amazing.

Nate: Mine too.

Me: How much would it cost to have gardens like this at home?

Nate:  About $100,000 to put in and $50,000-$100,000 a year to maintain.

Me:  Hmm.  What would that be in Canadian dollars?

Nate: Not much less.

Me:  But less, right?  So it would be better?

Nate: Not really. No.

  • Take the SkyTrain over to Yaletown.  Walk and walk and walk and walk around the waterfront.  Take a ferry over to Granville Island and walk and walk and walk until you think you can’t stop into anymore shops. But there are so many shops . . .
  • Take the Hornby Street ferry back and walk over to Water Street to find dinner and perhaps a new cultural “moment” you hadn’t anticipated.  For instance, I stumbled into what I would call the “sister loo.”  Inside the women’s bathroom of one of the restaurants where Nate and I dined, I found a couple of large bathroom stalls that I thought were for wheelchair accessibility, but perhaps they were not. These stalls held fully functioning side-by-side toilets and one was not a bidet. After a hefty pint of beer, my bladder was bursting enough to make me just rush into one of these stalls, but I stopped myself because I felt guilty. There was just one of me. What was the polite thing to do in Canada in this situation?  Perhaps I should have invited someone else in with me.  I obviously would not have needed both toilets by myself.  Luckily, a “normal” stall opened up, thus saving me from a very embarrassing international incident.  It left such an impression on me though, that I bolted from the bathroom grabbed Nate, and began my story with, “Girlfriend, I need to tell you something . . .”
  • Take the Lost Souls of Gastown Tour. It runs on Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights at 8 p.m. Tickets are available online and groups meet near the Cathedral. Tracy was our tour guide and she did an amazing job.  She dressed in period costume and took on the persona of an historical figure from 1898.  No one in the group was picked on to get quizzed on their knowledge of Gastown or made to re-enact a pirate scene.  Occasionally, Tracy did little asides that were fun, like “Am I right? I see this gentleman here knows what I’m talking about”—and everyone would laugh. Harmless enough.  She did that to me once during the tour. She was telling a story about drinking gin and then she turned to me and said, “Am I right?  This gal here knows what I’m talking about.” And I turned to Nate and said, “She’s psychic! Tracy is psychic! She totally knows me. She knows I would drink gin. I would totally do that!”
  • The next morning, grab a bite to eat at the food court in Canada Place by the waterfront. Here, you can see the cruise ships pull up—as well as amazing feats performed by both Canadian police officers and drug addicts.  In fact, I was enjoying a fat free yogurt and a Coke from inside the food court, when I was treated to a fascinating show performed by a smartly dressed Canadian traffic cop and a rather rambunctious man who was armed with a rolled-up magazine. He held it under his arm and jumped around aggressively at passersby—trying to stab them I suppose with the magazine.  The traffic cop just walked right up to him and smiled in a cheerful fashion.  Now, since I was inside the food court, I couldn’t hear the conversation that transpired outside on the plaza, but this is how I think it went:

Police Officer:  Well, helloooo there! How are you?

Rolled-Up Magazine Man:  Aha! Ha! Ha! And there! Got you! Aha!

Police Officer:  Do you know what you need?

Rolled-Up Magazine Man:  Ha! Ha!

Police Officer: That’s right! A breakfast sandwich!  I’ll just pop into this Tim Horton’s right here. You wait right there. I’ll be right back.

The man sat for a while, and then he charged through the front doors of the food court. That’s when I grabbed Nate and headed for the back door. I have no idea how this story ends, but I hope the breakfast sandwich hit the spot.

  • Head for the US border, hoping you can stay just a little longer—and you get your wish because you’ve been selected for a random car inspection, even though you have a Nexus pass with the words “Trusted Traveler” written on the front.  I was so confused.

Me:  Nate, you did tell the border guard that we’re not carrying any fruit or agricultural products with us? That’s what they’re really looking for.

Nate: Of course I told them we weren’t carrying any fruit or agricultural products! I have no idea why they’re doing this. This sucks!

So, we pulled our car around, and we were told to go inside the building next door and wait.  While we waited, I watched border patrol/customs agents walk around behind a desk and go to cubicles to work.  There was one very entertaining group of border officials that walked around with precisely two oranges and a banana.  It took about three of them to carry these pieces of fruit efficiently: One to hold the fruit and two to parade around behind the agent holding the fruit.  They looked pretty proud of themselves—like they had found the two oranges and a banana in a car and confiscated them. They looked like they were rehearsing what they’d say to the culprits when they presented the oranges and banana to them: “We told you. We told you to tell the truth about agricultural products and declare them. Do you recognize these?  We found them in your lunch sacks!”

We were probably “detained” for 20 minutes and that same group of border patrol agents paraded around the back with the fruit at least three times. At one point, I convinced myself that they would juggle the fruit. In fact, I was really hoping they would. I kept saying, “Please juggle!” in my head until we were called to the counter and told that we could leave. All in all, we could have probably avoided the whole “random car inspection” fiasco if I could have just applied what I learned from the Canadian police just a few hours before. I would have looked at the border agent, smiled cheerfully and said, “Do you know what you need? That’s right! A breakfast sandwich!”

In Other News:  I did get a story published here recently. It’s called “The Fireworks Wars” and it’s in Sirens Call Horror Magazine, p. 102.Cheers!

Your Turn:  What are your favorite weekend get-aways/tips?

 

 

Want to be part of the Guest in Jest series? 

Send something funny to me at mainepaperpusher@yahoo.com and I’ll publish it.  Simple as that.  🙂

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Guest in Jest Special Edition!

I can see Uranus

I think you know I have a childish and somewhat inappropriate sense of humour. I don’t hide it and in fact I am rather fond of it, so you will not be surprised to know that my recent camping adventures have developed a most fantastically inappropriate twist which I am certain you will love too – even if you don’t admit it.

I didn’t come up with – it was something I saw on Amazon’s ‘Grand Tour’ but do know it will stick with me for the rest of my days.

So what is it you ask? Well quite simple really. You know how caravans have fantastically inspirational names, well you put ‘Anal’ in front of them and then giggle like a twelve year old until your wife shouts at you for being so childish. Not that 12 year olds have wives. Well not unless youre american. But I digress…

Check out the photos below and if you don’t manage a chuckle then you’re dead inside! I for one am a big fan on the ‘Anal Hobby’. You may however be a little more of a classical basic humour sort of person and prefer the ‘Anal Breeze’ or perhaps the ever popular ‘Anal ambassador’.

Let me know your favourite…

 

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Guest in Jest-Epilogue

This past Friday featured the last weekly-scheduled Guest in Jest post.  I think we’ve had a pretty good run with 100 posts.  I thank everyone who participated by submitting posts and all of you who have read them and commented.  This series has been a highlight of my time here on WordPress.  It has been an honor to have such talent showcased here on Everyone Else Has the Best Titles.

Not all is lost.  I will haphazardly ask for posts and hope to gain a few here and there, but trying to fill this slot on a weekly basis has become too difficult.  Besides, my knees are tired from all of the begging!  I will still run humorist posts if they are submitted.  Please, send them in whenever you wish and I will gladly publish them here.

Thanks again to you all!

Guest in Jest #100 Silently Smouldering Words

This Week’s Guest is    Silently Smouldering Words

 

I don’t often put in an editorial comment but I have to this time.  This is the 100th edition of Guest in Jest and it is only fitting that #100 should be done by the same person who did #1.  Thank you, my dear, for being part of this series from the very start.  I love you so much for continually submitting pieces, especially when I thought there were no more posts to be had.  ❤️

 

Green Eyed Monster

Oh…

Jealousy,  jealousy

Beast that you are,

You sneak up on me 

Though I shun you afar.

My nonchalance- challenged

My sanity- shot.

And my head, mostly cool

Boils up good

Turns to hot.

I glance at the grasping and desperate

Words

That pour out from the mouths

of these snip – snapping birds,

Do they wish to torment me?

Yep. Prob’ly they do

For this monster that’s Green

works not one way

but two.

So this yucky and shameful base feeling I feel

Comes a – running towards me and nips at my heel

And I’m smothered and blasted by (rhymes here with “doors”)

Who desperate to taste you get down on all fours

And brazenly eff you with efforts quite poor

(And hey look, one more word that rhymes SO well with Wh***)

Yet tormented I am

(Though compare I do NOT)

To lascivious harlots here stirring the pot…

I will selflessly shove my true love in your face.

They’re like dolls made of rags

While I’m heat dressed in lace. 

 

Guest in Jest #99 Being Aunt Debbie

This week’s Guest in Jest guest is Being Aunt Debbie

 

The Grass Is Always Greener…

I’m a city girl, or I used to be anyway. I was born and raised in California and spent my childhood from age 6 in a busy, but not too populated town called Lodi. I think the population back then was around 30,000. By the time I left, in 1992, it had grown to around 75,000 people. It must be well over 100,000 by now.

Even though I was raised in a city, I learned where milk, eggs, steak, bacon, and fried chicken came from. Some kids don’t learn that, believe it or not. Anyway, I left that wonderful little city and so many great memories behind – also some not-so-great memories with the ex – and moved to southwest Missouri to be with my Dad. I wasn’t sure what to expect because I had never lived in that part of the country before or in such a rural location, and was never around farm animals.

Our house sits on 20 acres or so, with neighbors who are at least 1/4 mile away. (I love that about being here!!) The neighbors have cows on their property that borders ours. There are cows across the road much of the year. There are cows right to the left of us, too. You can hear cows giving birth and you can hear them mooing their damn-fool heads off at various times of the day. I’ve grown used to it after about 25 years!

But in the beginning, I thought how the hell am I supposed to get used to this? One morning, a mooing woke me up around 8am. I remember thinking it was awfully loud. In fact, it sounded like it was right outside my bedroom window. I just figured I was so fast asleep and it was so quiet that the sudden noise sounded much closer than it was.

I was wrong. I rolled over and opened my eyes. My eyes caught a movement by the window and to my surprise, I caught the rear end of a cow as it waltzed by. It let out another loud moo. See, it sounded close because it WAS close! I jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. There were several cows in our beautifully groomed yard. Now there was cow shit and big hoof marks in the damp lawn. Great, just great. I woke Dad up and he called the neighbors to let them know their bovine had just escaped. Apparently, they seized the opportunity to eat OUR grass, because it was greener!

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Image Credit Pixabay

We got dressed quickly and went outside to make sure these silly beef patties would stay in the yard and not get slaughtered in the busy road. The neighbors came quickly and started calling for their roast beasts to come to them. The cows knew the voice of their owners because each cow went toward the gate where our neighbors were calling from. That is, except one cow. It started to follow the others but as soon as it saw its owner, it turned around and ran. Just so happens I was right behind that giant meatloaf! It looked me in the eye as it ran toward me and being a city girl, all I could think to do was RUN! I thought, Sweet Jesus I hope I can outrun a cow! I ran like the devil was after me!

The neighbors laughed, and even though I was embarrassed, I laughed too! In my defense, how was I supposed to know what that silly cow was going to do?

Guest in Jest and Weekly Request #98

fThis Week’s Guest is Silently Smouldering Words

 

Have a joke or humorous post?

 

Please join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

Please submit your guest posts to mainepaperpusher@yahoo.com and they will be published in order of submission every Friday here at Everyone Else Has the Best Titles

 

Here are the rules:

 

  1. Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.
  2. The post can be one that has been posted before, elsewhere. 3.
  3. Multiple submissions are encouraged!
  4. The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, even something as simple as a joke.

 

 C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?

 

 

The featured image was created by Silas at  My weird, crazy and mundane life Journal 

Guest in Jest #97 Being Aunt Debbie

This week’s Guest in Jest guest is Being Aunt Debbie

 

Farts!

Many years ago, my Dad received a birthday card from one of his siblings and I thought it was funny enough to write down the poem and save it. I found it a few days ago, since I’ve been going through clutter, and I thought I’d share. I hope you get a kick out of it. We thought it was hilarious, but then again all of my family has been blessed with an odd sense of humor. So, who knows if anyone else will think it’s funny!

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A fart can be quiet
A fart can be loud
Some leave a powerful
poisonous cloud

A fart can be short
A fart can be long
Some farts have been known
to sound just like a song

A fart can create
a most curious medley
A fart can be harmless
or silent but deadly

A fart might not smell
while others are vile
A fart may pass quickly
or linger a while

A fart can occur
in a number of places
and leave everyone
with strange looks
on their faces

From wide-open prairie
to small elevator
A fart will find all of us
sooner or later

But not all farts are bad
this is simply not true
We mustn’t forget
dear sweet old farts like you!

(Author Unknown)

PS  As I was about to hit ‘publish’ I heard Dad in the other room rip off a good one! Old farts are the best…

 

Have a joke or humorous post?

 

Please join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

Please submit your guest posts to mainepaperpusher@yahoo.com and they will be published in order of submission every Friday here at Everyone Else Has the Best Titles

 

Here are the rules:

 

  1. Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.
  2. The post can be one that has been posted before, elsewhere. 3.
  3. Multiple submissions are encouraged!
  4. The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, even something as simple as a joke.

 

 C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?

 

 

The featured image was created by Silas at  My weird, crazy and mundane life Journal 

Guest in Jest and Weekly Request #97

This week’s Guest in Jest guest is Being Aunt Debbie

 

Have a joke or humorous post?

 

Please join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

Please submit your guest posts to mainepaperpusher@yahoo.com and they will be published in order of submission every Friday here at Everyone Else Has the Best Titles

 

Here are the rules:

 

  1. Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.
  2. The post can be one that has been posted before, elsewhere. 3.
  3. Multiple submissions are encouraged!
  4. The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, even something as simple as a joke.

 

 C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?

 

 

The featured image was created by Silas at  My weird, crazy and mundane life Journal 

Guest in Jest #96 The Arty Plantsman

This week’s Guest in Jest is The Arty Plantsman

I died in 1991 apparently. You would think I would have noticed.
In 1991 I was working shifts in a chemical factory. One night shift I was recovering from flu but dragged myself to work. Plus I had an unbroken attendance record for 6 years to uphold.
Around 2 am I started having chest pains. Carefully I started walking up the stairs to our break room for a sit down. I did not make it and an ambulance was called. An hour later I was in hospital being prodded and examined. They diagnosed pleurisy and put me on an antibiotic drip. 2 days later my fever had gone and I was discharged. To this day the only time I have been in hospital overnight.
Anyway. Being quickly carted off in an ambulance meant that some of my personal belongings, including my wallet, were still in my locker at work and I had strangely heard nothing from my colleagues. So my wife drove me there to collect them, knowing I would be off work for at least a few more days.
As I walked, looking very pale and sick, through the factory to my department I became conscious that people were doing a double-take when they saw me. I just thought “goodness – I must look really sick”.
I got to my department. My boss went pale when he saw me. Then his eyes slid down to his desk where I saw a condolences card addressed to my wife…
Apparently a rumour had started that I had died in the ambulance three days earlier, and nobody had thought to check!
Addendum: Despite my six years unbroken attendance and the fact that I was taken from work by ambulance my boss was instructed by HR to give me a warning when I returned from sick leave. At least he had the decency to look sheepish.

Have a joke or humorous post?

 

Please join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

Please submit your guest posts to mainepaperpusher@yahoo.com and they will be published in order of submission every Friday here at Everyone Else Has the Best Titles

 

Here are the rules:

 

  1. Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.
  2. The post can be one that has been posted before, elsewhere. 3.
  3. Multiple submissions are encouraged!
  4. The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, even something as simple as a joke.

 

 C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?

 

 

The featured image was created by Silas at  My weird, crazy and mundane life Journal 

 

Guest in Jest and Weekly Request #96

This week’s Guest in Jest is The Arty Plantsman

 

Have a joke or humorous post?

 

Please join us in our Guest of Jest series

 

Please submit your guest posts to mainepaperpusher@yahoo.com and they will be published in order of submission every Friday here at Everyone Else Has the Best Titles

 

Here are the rules:

 

  1. Write up something amusing.  It doesn’t have to be “laugh out loud” funny, but a bit of humor would be great.
  2. The post can be one that has been posted before, elsewhere. 3.
  3. Multiple submissions are encouraged!
  4. The piece can be anything that is humorous.  A story, a recollection, even something as simple as a joke.

 

 C’mon, you know you want to!  Why should we have all the fun?

 

 

The featured image was created by Silas at  My weird, crazy and mundane life Journal