Posts Tagged ‘laughter’


In The Daily Drool on February 22, 2010 at 1:07 pm

Last night my friends turned “Writer’s Karaoke” into a Surprise party, and knocked my perky little socks off.

This is what I’m talking about when I say that I have made some amazing friends out here, friends that I love and appreciate and who make me feel safe even amidst all the craziness.

And they are super crafty too.

I knew that Jacob had sent an invite to the cast of Jane Doe because it inadvertently got sent to me (I didn’t read it because I got a text message telling me not to, but I did see the subject line).  But I did NOT think that he had contacted everyone I had told I was leaving!  Walking into the bar and seeing so many faces that I wasn’t expecting to 1- see at all, or 2- see together, was very overwhelming and sent me into a bit of a spin.

A happy spin.

The kind that made me want to go back and re-live it when I woke up this morning.

It’s true that love can hurt, but people are what make this life worth living- the love that you share with friends and family really is all you need!

Because they will always have a place for you to lay your head and get your feet under yourself again.  They will hug you and hold you tight and they will remind you that even though you’re scared, they are there to help you get through it.

And that is more valuable than all the diamonds and gold and time-shares in the world…

So thank you, Los Angeles, for introducing me to these wonderful, beautiful people.

And thank you to my amazing friends for the awesome surprise.  🙂

In case you needed a giggle…

In The Daily Drool on February 5, 2010 at 12:54 pm

Go here, read this– it will make you laugh out loud!!!  (Especially if you’ve ever had a pet)

Road Warrior…

In The Daily Drool on November 28, 2009 at 1:05 pm

Okay, I almost forgot about this little gem.


"I think we got ourselves a success story!"



I snapped this on my camera phone at the gas station on my way over.  What makes it truly memorable is the “Lead up” to it.

First, it is important to understand The Line – you know those interminable gas lines where cars sit, idling away, waiting for the fill-up?   You could be there forever if the guzzlers in front of you have to go inside to pay, get their munchies, use the restroom- The lady in front of me actually went inside to fetch paper towels with which to lift the pump.  Then she had some other sort of malfunction, the details to which I was not made privy, but which involved her shrugging her paper-towel-mitted-shoulder over and over, over the course of about FOREVER.

Anyway, just as I was regretting my line selection (why is the line you’re in always the slowest?) the car on the opposite side of the pump departed and this GENIUS pulled in, his car about 3 feet away from the pump.  He actually had to get out of the car, pull the pump out to it’s limit and try stretching it across the back of the vehicle before he acknowledged they’d probably have to move the car.

I knew I was witnessing some true magic when, rather than back the car out and reverse it in properly, he had his car-mate crawl over to the driver’s side, back the car out a few inches and sidle up closer- gas tank still on the left.

Not close enough.

Another attempt.

Not close enough…

And with one more back-and-forth-and-over…

They made it.

Sort of.

Because now he’s got the pump in the gas tank but his partner in crime is STILL REVERSING… until Joe Schmoe here peeks around and hollers for them to stop.

And I’m pulling out my camera phone because it’s either that or I start screaming out the window “YOU ARE AN IDIOT!  IDIOT!  IDIOT!”

These people are out there on the road!  So keep your eyes peeled, and your wits about you.

Parting Clouds

In Essays, The Daily Drool on November 22, 2009 at 10:12 pm

Okay, so I wrote the above title  and then chuckled to myself, because, well, I thought it looked like “Farting Clouds.”  Which is NOT what this post is intended to be about!

…But it would probably be funny …

So funny in fact, that I am now less interested in my original topic, which was basically a flowery “Hey, in case you noticed, I’ve been pretty damn morose lately and guess what?  I’m feeling BETTER!”   because, let’s face it, farts are funny.  (Except when you let one go and it gets you some unwanted attention – then it’s mortifying.  Because really, any attention gotten by such means, is unwanted.  I mean, I can’t imagine a scenario in which “Hey, let’s look at that person because they just let one rip” is a good thing.)

BUT, because I love you all so much, I’m going to go ahead and share one of my MOST EMBARASSING MOMENTS with you… Right here, Right now… (and yup, you guessed it) It’s concerning The Stink We Want To Ignore

(now THAT’S a great title!)

Once upon a time, in a land called “Years Ago” there was a little blonde girl of name Little Tiff.  Little Tiff was a sweet girl, and happily in love with a young man of much heart.  Nigh on 24, Little Tiff hadn’t yet reconciled her stomach’s limits with the desires of her palate, and so, craving some greasy goodness, she partook of the KFC her young Prince delivered to her doorstep.  Yes, he wooed her with fried chicken, and then he took her to the cinema where they shared a sweet slurpee and dove love-sick into the movie.  It wasn’t long, however, before Little Tiff began to feel the curious twinge of gastular regret, and the film (a romance) yawned nastily before her; an eternity of hell.

Because the stomach was angry.  It threw up red flag after red flag…

The chicken wanted to escape.

Her intestinal machinery was working overtime, exhaust building at an alarming pace, the alarms were ringing, ground shaking, all signs shrieking “ABANDON SHIP!”

And before Little Tiff could muster an excuse for escape, the factory blew the whistle.

Now… there are many types of farts, but the worst are those that give no warning and make no announcement of their arrival.  Like the worst of party guests, they show up uninvited, make out with the host, break your best china, and throw up in the flower pot.

And so it was that it was this very guest crashed their date.

The Prince turned to Little Tiff (After a whiff) with a “Was that YOU?!”  Eyes round with shock and awe.

Little Tiff squirmed, how could she lie?  The guilt (and the agony) was spread cross her cheeks with a glow not even the theatre’s dim light could hide.  She nodded with shame, convinced the Prince would insist she move a few seats down…

“The Chicken…”  she croaked.

He nodded and leaned in with a smile (sans-gas mask, the brave fellow) and he asked (with tender heart) if she was alright, did she want to go home?   And although she wanted to scream “YES! Yes, more than anything in the whole world, I want to go home!”  she looked around at their fellow movie watchers, watching their nostrils flare at the offense, and said “No.  If we get up, everyone will know it was me!”

And that man, that dear, dear, sweet man, leaned back with a chuckle and squeezed her little paw as he settled back in… settled back in for a rocky evening with stinky Lil’ Tiff – bound to her seat by shame and a ridiculous need to prove her own false-innocence…  Deciding, in her own self interest, to stay and make all share in her misery rather than be found out.

Little Tiff (masterful actress that she was) even joined her fellow theatre goers in looking around indignantly at Each. Little. Interruption.

And what of the Prince?  Well, he had surely done battle with one of her heart’s guards that night and won.  And as the years stretched on, they spoke often of that night, infusing it with the kind of sentimentality often reserved for cute stories about ice cream and butterflies.


Yes… definitely much more interesting that that which I was originally going to write.  And much more disgusting.

(If any of you thought me a sexy beast before this, you’ve most certainly been schooled.)

And as to the whole “Feeling better” thing?  I am.

The sun is finally shining through the shit.  Hmm… an apt post indeed   ;-p

LeMui, the frog-leg eating bastard!

In Playwriting, The Daily Drool on November 15, 2009 at 10:22 am

Ahhh, it’s here.  Auditions for my show, In the Company of Jane Doe…and I’m so very excited.

The funny thing is, not too terribly long ago it was me on the stage doing my best to get hired… I like it a lot better in the seats with the clipboard in my lap.  But I wonder how surprised that younger Tiffany would have been, if given a glimpse of the NOW.

F- “Psst, Tiffany, come here.”

(looking around confused, she spots a mysterious looking frog crouched int he corner with his froggy finger apon his lips)

T- “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

F-  “Yeah, hurry up and get over here, I’m from the future and I got somethin’ to tell you!”

(She cautiously creeps toward the green blob, sneakily picking up the nearest blunt object to carry behind her back, just in case…)

F-  “Listen, I know you think things are crazy tough, but I wanted to tell you that you’re going to be a playwright soon anyway, so don’t sweat this acting stuff.”

T-  ” A playwright?”

F-  “Yeah, you’re going to win all sorts of awards, and then in 2009 (which is really gonna’ suck, btw) it’s all going to come together with your first professional production!  I don’t know what happens after that, I left right about the time you were having auditions.”


F- “What the fuck was that for?”

T- “You’re lying.”

F- “I am not!  I’m- Jesus that hurt! I’m from the future, I came here to do you a favor-”

T-  “Yeah, about that, what’s the deal anyway?  Why would you pop in on my rehearsal?  Where did you come from?  WHY CAN YOU TALK?”

F-  “I’m, oy, I don’t know, something with the space-time-continuum jump that I did in my super-ripped Delorian-”

T-  “Okay, now you’re plagiarizing-”

F- “I’m OBVIOUSLY not a scientist here- Hey, wait, is that… what do you have behind your back?”

T- “Nothing.”

F- “Look, I cut a deal, okay?  I come back here and give you some good news and I get to intercept Martin LeMui, renowned for a mind-blowing frog-leg recipe that changes the fate of my kind as you know it!  He’s going to crawl past this room at approx. 8:25 p.m. EST and I am going to make sure he falls under a bus, or something…”

T- “Wait, so… You’re not some sort of super freaky frog prince that’s got the hots for me or something?”

F- “What?  ME?  and YOU?  Ugh, gross, no way!  Where’d you get that idea?”

(The blunt object hovers above him)

F- “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean… It’s just, you’re a human… and you’re wearing your pajamas!  At REHEARSAL.  I prefer my girls have a little more… denim.  Less flannel.  Look, why would you even think that?”

T- “Well, it’s just that I’ve been kissing a lot of “frogs” lately… You got me worried.”

F- “Listen to me sweetheart, they’re all toads.  If I were you, I’d invest heavily in wart-removal.  Oh, shit!  There’s LeMui!  I’ve got to go.  Good luck!”

(hoppity, hop… “FOR KERMIT!!!!”    Boom, screech.)

The End.


Yeah… I imagine it would go a little something like that.



Sing, Sing a Song!

In The Daily Drool on October 12, 2009 at 11:06 am

Alright… Now let’s just take a moment to cheer for wonderful friends! Ready?


Because yesterday was… kind of awful (see neighbor post)… but yester-evening? Well, it totally ROCKED! And it rocked because these wonderful people came out to to celebrate my birth with song after song after song because, yes, we partook of the art of Karaoke.

Perhaps it’s the inner child in me, but there is just something so much damn fun about sitting in a room of dedicated “Let’s-Have-An-Awesome-Time”ers singing power ballads and weird little numbers you’ve never heard of at the top of their lungs. Can it be awful? Oh, yes! But it can also be BRILIANT! And my friends were spot on brilliant last night as we took the place over. (Sunday night karaoke lends itself to repeated hits due to the lack of crowding, and as I had selected a Sunday for my birthday celebration, there was little competition for stage-time)

But what I loved so much last night was the comraderie we developed with the other two groups singing in the bar. They were into the “Fun” of it just the same as we, they dedicated songs to “The birthday girl” and we all cheered each other with matched enthusiasm.

Just the sort of thing a girl needs after a day of beating herself up!

So I want to send out some love and appreciation to my dear and wild-hearted friends who made me laugh soooo much last night that my sides still hurt this morning, who got my spirits dancing so brightly that I woke up this morning with a smile, and who bought me a cake and made me tear up and bubble over with blubbery you-really-like-me-ness.

Because I’m a sensitive sap, and friends carrying a candle-lit birthday cake across a not-so-crowded karaoke bar while a gentle-giant belts out some 80’s rock on stage was just what this sap needed!

And the world makes sense again…

In The Daily Drool on September 24, 2009 at 10:30 pm

I was sitting around feeling confused and generally fogged up this afternoon when someone sent me this:


And I just realized that no matter what is wrong with the world, there will always be people taking ridiculous pictures of cats and laughing at them.

Somehow, this makes the world seem a more just and balanced place.

(Check out more LOL cats here)

The Hope of Talent

In Playwriting on August 30, 2009 at 8:26 am

Talent shows… we love ’em.  And why?  Because everyone loves to watch “Ordinary People” have a moment in the spotlight… it gives us an upswelling of hope to see someone recognized as unique.  We watch them, bated breath, mirroring their hopes, reckognizing their desire to be celebrated within ourselves… dreaming that we too could be noticed and cheered on if given the chance.

Watch this  Not only can this guy sing, he gets the whole audience to their feet and it just feels good!  It’s the good side of reality television – something you won’t hear me say often since most of it is crap – and you can’t help but be happy for the guy.

Sometimes someone else’s joy can make your own day glow.

Pillow Steak

In Essays on July 21, 2009 at 9:11 pm

At first I’d thought I’d simply picked up a bad cut of meat.  I mean, it happens occasionally that you stoop over the butcher-counter inspecting all those containers of red, settle on a particularly-bloody-but-not-too-outside-your-price-range piece of flesh and take it home only to find that it didn’t go as well as you’d imagined with the creamed potatoes and snap peas you were drooling over at the check-out counter.

But this was different.

This was… wrong.

This was missing.

The absence of… flavor.

A million mis-understandings flitting through my brain, punctuated by my own mastication… It’s from a cloned cow and they cloned a bad one.  Crunch.  We aren’t the only one’s hit by the economic crisis, the cow’s have run out of flavor.  Munch.  My God, I am part of the The Matrix and the taste-simulator is broken!  Swallow.

Who should I notify first?  What could be done?  And would I invite a world of trouble by blowing the whistle on this flavorless gristle…

The thoughts are racing past so quickly that I am halfway through the potatoes before I notice they too are lacking in taste.

A conspiracy?

I sample the peas – nothing.

Just what is going on here?  I reach for the cranberry juice, bracing for the inevitable, only this time instead of nothing I taste…

My pillow.

Yes, it is morning- and there is pillow in my mouth, between my teeth, and against my tongue.

And the sunshine is laughing, the cats are rolling their eyes, and my mind… oh it is coming back to me from its sojourn in the Land of Nod, one sad, embarrassed brain cell at a time.

Sunshine Spots – more Feline wisdom by Midnite

In The Daily Drool on July 18, 2009 at 8:42 am

Well, the human is too tired to think (oh, poor BABY!)  And since my last post was such a success, she’s “Allowing” me to write another.  Right.  Lucky me.

Lucky YOU.

Because I’m going to talk to you about sunshine.  More specifically, those wonderful soft places that seem to catch it when it comes in the window… if you know what to look for you can spend all day in one of those spots and wake up feeling like the cat that got the canary.

First: make sure the space is available.  If the Human is asleep and the sunshine is there, just start taking it over by subtly plopping your butt in the Human’s face.  They don’t like that and invariably move.  You could try talking to them about it, but they might get physical if you wake them up too much.  The butt is an effective suggestive tool.  They don’t need to even open their eyes to know something’s not right and roll over.

Second: If it’s usually there, and it’s not there this morning, it’s the Human’s fault.  This is when you should yell them.  Holler until they do something about it.  Sometimes all it takes is a few minutes for them to realize they closed the blinds yesterday and voila’ you’ve got sun!

Third:  DON’T BE AFRAID TO DEFEND WHAT IS YOURS!   Sometimes the Human misreads the situation and tries to cuddle you.  This isn’t all bad- If you ignore them and add an irritated flick to your tail they will usually go away.  If they insist, however, and you are not interested in the belly rub at the moment, I find that a little kitty fart works wonders.  I know what your thinking – “Has it come to that?” – Yes.  Human’s hate all things smelly, and the pleasure of watching their ugly little nose wrinkle in dissatisfaction is worth the humiliation of revealed gas.

Alright, speaking of sunshine, there’s a delightful little patch creeping across the floor right now, so I’m signing out of the cyber-world and tuning in to Mother Nature.  Her bright beams are calling…