Brain Salad

/ Diane Henders

(I promise this isn’t another post about zombies, despite the title.)

So… occasionally I make Tilt Soup.  It never tastes the same twice, and the recipe is as follows:  ‘Tilt the fridge and whatever falls out goes into the soup’.  Much to Hubby’s relief, I exercise restraint with that recipe.  I’ve never actually served soup containing pickles, jam, and leftover pizza… but the potential is there.

In the same vein, there’s a mental condition called ‘word salad’, where people are capable of intelligible speech but their words come out in an incoherent jumble.  As you may have guessed by now, today’s post is brain salad – a conglomeration of oddments that have been collecting in my mental filters for some time now.

For example:  One night I had an extremely vivid dream in which I was running an online dating service for lonely single monkeys.  I have no idea what the hell I’d eaten or drunk that would generate that level of weirdness, but the dream begs all kinds of questions such as, “How would that even work?” and “For the love of God, WHY?”

And while I’m on the topic of ‘why’, here’s something else I wonder about:  Why are ‘panties’ plural, but ‘bra’ is singular?

And why did I smell gunpowder in the upscale restaurant where I ate a while ago?  I mean, really, the meat was fresh, but it wasn’t that fresh.

And why does my list of blog post ideas contain a draft post titled ‘I Got Mad Skillz’ that is completely blank?  Apparently I once had an idea for a blog post I thought merited that title… but I guess my ‘skillz’ deserted me before I could write it.

The miscellany in my blog file also includes a biker obituary I discovered a while ago and saved because I’d like an obituary like this (except for the ‘younger women’ part):

“Weary of reading obituaries noting someone’s courageous battle with death, Mike wanted it known that he died as a result of being stubborn, refusing to follow doctors’ orders and raising hell for more than six decades. He enjoyed booze, guns, cars and younger women until the day he died. He is survived by Uncle Don and Aunt Cynthia (his favorite); Uncle Dill and Aunt Dot, cousins and nephews, Baba Yaga can kiss his butt.”

I presume Baba Yaga doesn’t refer to the witch of Slavic folklore, so I’d love to know the story behind that one.

And one last thing that made me laugh this week:  You know those website captcha things where you have to interpret numbers and letters that rival Rorschach ink blots in their obscurity?  Well, sometimes they’re not obscure enough to defeat my juvenile sense of humour.  A while ago, I got ‘pness’ and ‘pemile’ in quick succession, generating a flurry of childish snickers.  I entered 8==> in the text box, but apparently that wasn’t what they were looking for…

(Hint:  Rotate that group of characters 90 degrees counterclockwise.  Or clockwise if the Viagra has worn off.)

So that’s it for my brain salad today.  Just like Tilt Soup, if you hold your nose and gulp it down fast, it might not come back on you…

34 thoughts on “Brain Salad”

  1. I KNEW I had saved reading this blog for a good reason!  You had me laughing out loud, “food” for the soul.  Tilt Soup, I love it.   Know about those salad days, I think part of the reason is that there are so many things I want to say and I’m  in a hurry to get it out before I forget what I was going to say.  An in the midst of all those words swirling around in my mind, I try to remember that LISTENING is a great skill, but one we don’t learn when we learn to talk.  (Heard that one from an outplacement counselor when company was moving out of state)   Thought I’d retired, but on a whim I applied for a job.  Now working at Chico’s (women’s wear–name comes from a pet parrot) I am having fun interacting with lots of people again where listening to customes is vital, so practice makes perfect.   Babbling aside, am eagerly awaiting your next book, no pressure though………..happy writing to you!  Bless your irreverent soul! Peggi in Eagle, ID

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    • Hi Peggi – Thanks, I’m glad you got a laugh! And wow, it takes a special personality to enjoy working in retail sales. Just the thought of it makes me shudder, but I’m glad you’re having fun!

      I’m sooooo close to finishing Book 8 – it might even happen this week. Off to write now… 🙂

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  2. I’ve made that soup for decades but mine is called “Go to Hell Soup”. All leftovers go into the pot with sufficient amounts of stock or water, seasonings are there to either enhance the flavors or hide something. A good splash of either white or red wine, depending on the main meat and it’s hallelujah time at the table. Cornbread on the side. Oh yeah, Papa used to call his version of this, Depression Stew. It works!

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    • Mmmm! The cornbread makes it all worthwhile! I love it, but Hubby isn’t crazy about cornbread, so I often make biscuits instead. I suspect he looks forward to the biscuits more than the soup. 😉

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  3. Refrigerator or Enthusiasm Soup was a favourite at our house. Our family could never see the problem with “leftovers” as they always appeared in something different and delicious.
    Loved the obituary. Wasn’t there a song about “Live fast; love hard; die young and leave a beautiful memory”? Speaking of Love hard, a friend of ours once had a t-shirt that read “A hard man is good to find”.
    The simian dating site has possibilities for those who just want to monkey around.

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  7. Only you would have an emoticon for male anatomy, Diane. And something tells me this isn’t the first time you’ve used it. 😉

    I LOVE the idea and name of Tilt Soup. As long as you’re not serving your dream monkeys in it…

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