Feeling Sluggish? Not such a bad thang!

I absolutely hate staring at this blank page when what I see staring back is, well, a blank page and my mind is also, a blankity blank.

Makes me feel sluggish.

So…naturally, when that happens, I go looking for that day’s alter ego.

And as luck would have it, I found it, or rather, it found me.

We shared some quality wine-time (before it got drunk and the mosquitoes showed up and ruined our party)


Too bad it ended so early because I was quite enthralled with these tales of a slug’s life.

Admittedly though, a tad runny at the mouth.  Ewww.

Oh excuse my manners…I’ll introduce you.

Everybody?  Meet my new friend.

If I tell you its name, I’ll ruin the lesson, so new friend will do for now:


What I learned during our luscious liquid lunch interested me enough to want to share it with you.

So, if you’ll allow, the slug‘s life lesson begins.


Did you know, that in addition to being a major part of his mobility requirements, his slime is actually a defense mechanism?

Yeah, I mean, who the hell wants to eat something that gross?

Nothing it seems.  Smart little cuss.

And…as luck (? you’ll see) would have it

(kids, cover your eyes..this is for mommy and daddy)

it’s also a huge part of their (shhhh) sex life.



(Okay, here’s where the third glass is starting to take affect.  He fell off his perch mid-sentence and landed on the table; like a cat; feet first!

(that’s a joke…their whole body is one giant foot really)

one too many
Oops. Schorry – Hiccup!

To continue…

Of course, we humans secrete our own slime of a sort (well…we do!) but it’s nothing compared to these love bugs.

Slugg-ette drops chemicals into her slime letting Slugg-O know she’s ready.

Months go by…haha, not really but imagine how LONG it takes ol’ Slugg-O to mosey on over?

You might think sweet little Slugg-ette would get sick of waiting…but to hear my new friend tell it…

Slugg-O is packin’ heat and proud of it!

(So the signs on the garden wall are TRUE!  Call 1-900-worththewait for a slimy good time!)

His slugg-o-schlong is HALF the size of his body!




Ahem…sorry, was daydreaming.

Anyway, Slugg-ette is staying put!  She’s in for the loooong haul.

Once they do manage to mingle, their foreplay can last for hours!

(No surprise there, after waiting all that time? what’s the friggin rush)

But what IS surprising is these little rascals are into…

(kids? still covered? good)



Biting, tail lashing, licking up each others goo….Grrrrrrross!

But hey, whatever flexes your hose right?

Another interesting fact…and this is why I didn’t give you my new friend’s name…

Because Slugg-ette is Slugg-O and Slugg-O is Slugg-ette, if ya catch my drift.

Yeah, so I’ll call him/her Slugg-ett-O

(anyone else hearing Pinocchio music?)

What this means is that they are both hes and they are both shes and they can BOTH get  preggers at the same time for gawd’s sake!

(My head just exploded.  Who’s your Daddy?  Baby Mama?  I’m so confused!)

But all is not wine and roses for these poor dude(ttes).

Sometimes, when they are done with the fun, their fun parts aren’t having any fun a’tal.

Why?  Because their schlugg schlongs can get stuck in their own goo!

And as it hardens mid wham-bam thank ya man/am, before ya know it?


Gulp…and the only way out?  Can ya guess?

Don’t – it’s a gawd awful picture.

I’ll just tell ya.

One gnaws off the other’s ‘peter piper picked the wrong place to get stuck’.

Yup…the slug version of Bobbittized!

But don’t cry for them Argentina (salt’s bad for them anyway).

Shed no salty tears, all is not as it appears.

Not only is it not fatal to the one who happened to get stuck in the prickle jar…it’s a whole new life!

Basically, your garden variety transgender operation.

Nature amazes doesn’t it?

Seems the dearly depetered goes off to live a normal, happy, Slugg-ett-O life as strictly a female.

A whole new slug.  Slugg-ette for ever and ever.

Cool huh?

That’s all we had time for during our first meet and greet; the bugs were bitin’ and Slugg-ett-O

(yeah, I asked…was still packin’)

was obviously slime-faced!

But here’s his parting shot, and if I do say, not a bad looking she-fellow when you get to know her/im

See ya ’round…ya ol’ slimeball!  🙂

an hour later
Catchya later gater!
Next time, I’ll bring the refreshments…If you dare!

Why I Still Read the Newspaper…with RELISH!

For those of you who take advantage of digital technology to keep up with current affairs in your communities, states, country, or the world, you don’t know what you are missing.

Perhaps it’s because you are too young to remember what it was like to open a newspaper. The sound, the smell, and the ink on your fingers.  Or maybe you don’t have the leisure time every day to sit and peruse your local rag.

Whatever the reason, it’s too bad, you are missing out on a truly satisfying and, sometimes, very entertaining past time.

This is my Ode To Print…with sincere thanks for all the years of joy.

Hope you enjoy as much as I do…

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Give up the rag?



Spring Breaks? Yes. Yes it does.

Winter Intermission has concluded.


Time for me to get back to work.


Spring is in the air.




Here is the northeast, we have a saying…

It goes like this:




Prove it!

Spring is a word on a calendar here in the northeast.

Spring is a cock comb tease.

Spring is the day we jump from snow ass deep to mud up to our elbows.

Spring may have sprung and sprouted where you are, but it’s laughing all the way to the snow-bank here!

Click on the following…they’ll make you glad you live somewhere else!

spring tomorrow
Spring hits tomorrow…yeah, can ya dig it?
spring comes in
Ah yut…it sprung alright
spring first week
sure glad it’s spring
Am so glad winter is over
oh yeah
um hm
that’s right

As for me? Well, I’ll just wish you all a beautiful spring while I try to get the handle of this snow shovel up father winter’s a….oops!



(photos courtesy of WCAX TV)

Rhonda-Van-Wrinkle Revisited

Three years ago today…March 1, 2013, I re-entered the blogosphere to share my thoughts and speak my mind on life’s many shades of gray.  Having survived the hugely regretful menopause fueled meltdown deletion of my original blogonality, Help Me Rhonda, I’m more than happy I made the decision to try again.

I am also very thankful for the old friends that found the new me, and thrilled with the new friends I’ve made since.  So, I’d like to celebrate this birthday with a stroll down memory lane by revisiting 50 Shades of Gray Hair’s inaugural  post…as well as thanking you all once again, for adding your own hues to my 50 shades, and leaving your heart-prints all over mine.

And I just have to point out…the first sentence of the 4th paragraph?  The one I’ve highlighted in red?  Oy…prophetic or WHAT!!   🙂

This first official post has me feeling like I’m coming back to Junior High after summer break.  But instead of that obligatory ‘How I Spent My Summer Vacation’ essay, I’m standing in front of the class reading mine entitled…

‘Where Did My Life Go and What the Hell is THAT?’

Though I am no longer the pimply-faced teen, sweating the small stuff…I AM a wrinkly-faced grandmother sweating with the flashes and spending way too much time looking for those things I knew I needed, at the time I needed them but forgot I had…and when I did find them, I couldn’t remember why I needed them in the first place.

Ha…I’m not really wrinkly-faced; it’s more of a wrinkly feeeeling.  The memory thing is spot on though, as are the questions about where life went and what new and wonderful surprises will pop up, slide down, fall off, or turn colors, each and every morning.

[Not to mention what happens AFTER I leave the bathroom…yikes]

Those first steps of the day can make it or break your leg...if you’re not paying attention. Life’s stairs are steep; you need to open your eyes, clear your head, hang onto the handrail, and take one step at a time.  That isn’t to say you can’t ride the rail once in a while…hop on the banister and whoop your way down…

…Just watch out for the splinters along the way. They are a pain in the ass! 

No one said it would be easy.  At least no one said it to me.  Of course, no one said it would be this hard either.  But, I have realized, it’s only as hard as we make it.  Which, I believe, is why I’m here…again.

Life can be hard, but never as hard as when you turn inward thinking to shelter and protect, only to wake up and realize you are just adding more and more wrinkles. Those ‘oldest woman on earth’ kind of wrinkles; ‘my wrinkles have wrinkles’ kind of wrinkles; ‘when I stand I sound like an accordion‘ kind of wrinkles.


I’m talking feeling old!

And I’m too young to feel this old.

Too young to BE this old.

So, I’m starting by ironing and straightening out some of those internal wrinkles.  Getting up and out of my life’s laundry basket and getting to work.  (Don’t worry, I won’t ever use that term again!  And if any of you remember anything about my old blog…you may recall I HATE IRONING!)

Each day – a new stretch

Each stretch – one less wrinkle.

And I know I’m not doing it alone.

That’s the key.  I’m letting those that love me take one end while I take the other…and together we’ll pull some of those suckers out.

And for the one’s that can’t be pulled…I have a turbo charged steam iron.

Yes, I do.

It’s called ‘The Future”!

And when the time comes to let the roots show, I’ll be ready.

But for now it’s…

Rhonda-Van-Wrinkle time to wake up!

Morning everybody…what Shade are we today?