(feel free to copy and paste this along with the author's byline)
Watch out world, here they come...
by Bettyanne Bruin
Scrapbooking Barbie: With acid free paper, tape and pens, plus a house jammed with three-ringed binders filled with photos of happy, Celestial family members, Scrapbook Barbie has just earned her black belt in Karate and is ready for any scrapbook store sale anywhere. An application to second mortgage her home to financially support her heavenly habit also comes with this doll, along with a memo, reminding her not to forget to attend her weekly Scrapaholics Annonymous meeting.
High Priest Ken: High Priest Ken is proud to come with his very own, very accessible oxygen tank, walker, pillow and blanket. Yes, High Priest Ken is prepared to take a nap anywhere and everywhere. Watch High Priest Ken meet other High Priest Ken dolls and see them take the High Priest lesson so far away from the lesson objective that nearly apostasize!
Relief Society Barbie: With funeral potato-filled casserole dish in hand, Relief Society Barbie has just refilled her bottle of Prozac and is ready for any castrophe anywhere. See her cry over every tender story she hears and set up tables and folding chairs faster than her counselors can say, "Enrichment Night." Relief Society Barbie comes complete with a large oak table (complete with pieces of rolled masking tape stuck along the edge for posting visual aids), tablecloth, glass vase, fresh flowers and every quote-filled visual aid imaginable. ]
Hometeaching Ken: This doll comes with every accessible imaginable to never do his hometeaching: TV, remote control, couch, refrigerator, golf clubs, messy garage, whittling tools, fingernail clippers. Watch Hometeaching Ken come up with every excuse in the book to avoid ever seeing his assigned families -- from Breaking News stories to Cops to WWF. To help remind Hometeaching Ken of his monthly assignment, a day planner with only the last day of the month filled in with his families' names, is also included.
Testimony-bearing Barbie: With microphone always in hand, this Barbie comes with a voice so soft-spoken and high-pitched that even the hardest of souls will be touched. Listen to her share her experiences about everything from housefires to catastrophic illness to near-death experiences. Make sure not to miss her plea for everyone to vote Republican in the next National election or YOU might responsible for the world coming to a sudden and very-much unexpected end SOON!
Scoutmaster Ken: Watch out, cause this Ken really talks! Pull the string and listen to over-the-egder Ken swear at anyone who walks past, and yet he can quote the Scout motto perfectly. Camp-smoke scented, this Ken comes with his own, covetous, best campfire ever, matches, and cans of baked beans a-plenty, plus ten boys who never quit burping or passing gas no matter how many times you try to make them stop. Warning: This doll must be replaced often.
STAY TUNED! MORE BARBIE AND KEN DOLLS WILL BE AVAILABLE ON MONDAY!
Friday, February 04, 2005
Thursday, February 03, 2005
FEBRUARY 2005 MORMON CENSUS--HOW PECULIAR ARE YOU?
p MORE BREAKING NEWS:
According to Bettyanne, there were a few VITAL questions left off her Mormon Census.
SHE ALSO NEGLECTED TO MENTION THE FOLLOWING CAUTION:
THIS FORM SHOULD NEVER BE USED TO REPLACE INSPIRATION WHEN FILLING ANY CHURCH POSITION!!!
(Stay tuned cause, according to Bettyanne, there are more missing questions yet to be revealed)
Ah-hem. And now, ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, finally...
2005 MORMON CENSUS
by
Bettyanne Bruin (formerly Gillette)
If byline is included, the author gives permission
for this census to be copied and pasted
1. If you had to choose one, which one would you choose:
a. To be called as a Nursery Leader.
b. To be called as a Young Women's Camp Director
c. To be called as a Den Leader.
d. To parachute without a chute
2. Which do you consider to be the "most appropriate" reason for going into debt:
a. To purchase a home.
b. To fund your education.
c. To be ahead of everyone else on the latest in scapbooking materials.
3. If studies found that prayer burned calories, would you pray more often:
a. Yes
b. No
4. How many prayers would it take for you to lose your specific amount of excess weight:
a. 1 week
b. 1 month
c. 1 year
5. Do you believe Visa and Mastercard should be accepted at all tithing settlements:
a. Yes.
b. No.
6. If the Tabernacle seats 6,000 people, how many people can the Tabernacle really seat:
a. 10,000
b. 15,000
c. 20,000
7. Does singing, "Families Can Be Together Forever," bring:
a. A tear to your eye
b. A tingling sensation all over
c. A feeling of nausea
d. A reminder to call your therapist
8. Which of the following best describes your Family Home Evenings:
a. A zoo
b. An insane asylum
c. A boxing ring
d. A sleep disorder clinic
e. A morgue
8. (For women only): If The Law of Consecration were immediately put into action, which would be more difficult to give up:
a. Your husband
b. Your chocolate
9. (For men only): If The Law of Consecration were immediately put into action, which would be more difficult to give up:
a. Your wife
b. Your television set
10. Please define: The Cultural Hall is:
a. A large room where people (sometimes from all over the world) can gather:
b. An area set aside for honoring countless special occasions
c. An over-packed hall where members boo and throw things at basketball games
11. If forced, which question would you most prefer to answer in Sunday School class:
a. What is the most grievious sin you've ever committed
b. Please name and explain the twelve tribes of Israel.
12. Which family do you hope makes it to the Celestial Kingdom first:
a. Adam's family
b. Moses' family
c. Lehi's family
d. The Steed family
13. Should "Members Without Pioneer Heritage" be allowed to establish a support group:
a. Yes.
b. No
14. Do you believe all boys attending Scout Camp should be required to wear "safe return" bracelets:
a. Yes
b. No
15. Consider the following: Your toddler wakes up with a 102 degree fever, runny nose and a hacking cough. Do you:
a. Give your child medication before you put your child in the nursery
b. Give your child medication after you put your child in the nursery.
Stay tuned for the product descriptions of the latest Mormon Barbie and Ken dolls.
1. If you had to choose one, which one would you choose:
a. To be called as a Nursery Leader.
b. To be called as a Young Women's Camp Director
c. To be called as a Den Leader.
d. To parachute without a chute
2. Which do you consider to be the "most appropriate" reason for going into debt:
a. To purchase a home.
b. To fund your education.
c. To be ahead of everyone else on the latest in scapbooking materials.
3. If studies found that prayer burned calories, would you pray more often:
a. Yes
b. No
4. How many prayers would it take for you to lose your specific amount of excess weight:
a. 1 week
b. 1 month
c. 1 year
5. Do you believe Visa and Mastercard should be accepted at all tithing settlements:
a. Yes.
b. No.
6. If the Tabernacle seats 6,000 people, how many people can the Tabernacle really seat:
a. 10,000
b. 15,000
c. 20,000
7. Does singing, "Families Can Be Together Forever," bring:
a. A tear to your eye
b. A tingling sensation all over
c. A feeling of nausea
d. A reminder to call your therapist
8. Which of the following best describes your Family Home Evenings:
a. A zoo
b. An insane asylum
c. A boxing ring
d. A sleep disorder clinic
e. A morgue
8. (For women only): If The Law of Consecration were immediately put into action, which would be more difficult to give up:
a. Your husband
b. Your chocolate
9. (For men only): If The Law of Consecration were immediately put into action, which would be more difficult to give up:
a. Your wife
b. Your television set
10. Please define: The Cultural Hall is:
a. A large room where people (sometimes from all over the world) can gather:
b. An area set aside for honoring countless special occasions
c. An over-packed hall where members boo and throw things at basketball games
11. If forced, which question would you most prefer to answer in Sunday School class:
a. What is the most grievious sin you've ever committed
b. Please name and explain the twelve tribes of Israel.
12. Which family do you hope makes it to the Celestial Kingdom first:
a. Adam's family
b. Moses' family
c. Lehi's family
d. The Steed family
13. Should "Members Without Pioneer Heritage" be allowed to establish a support group:
a. Yes.
b. No
14. Do you believe all boys attending Scout Camp should be required to wear "safe return" bracelets:
a. Yes
b. No
15. Consider the following: Your toddler wakes up with a 102 degree fever, runny nose and a hacking cough. Do you:
a. Give your child medication before you put your child in the nursery
b. Give your child medication after you put your child in the nursery.
Stay tuned for the product descriptions of the latest Mormon Barbie and Ken dolls.
BREAKING NEWS: TO DIE FOR RESPONSE TO GRANDGUNS!!
ATTENTION BLOG-MART SHOPPERS:
I FINALLY GOT MY FIRST REAL RESPONSE!!!!
AS FOLLOWS:
TELL ME IF YOU ARE AS SCARED AS I AM!!!!!:
"I'm glad you find so much joy in having 'grand-somethings'. You did forget to mention that you actually have 3 granddogs (Pam, Chi, and Daja), 3 grandcouches (two suede and a leather), and 3 grandguns (.22 caliber pistol and 2 rifles) Please don't leave any of your 'grandchildren' out. "
From?
My daughter. The one who owns the gun! Gulp!
I FINALLY GOT MY FIRST REAL RESPONSE!!!!
AS FOLLOWS:
TELL ME IF YOU ARE AS SCARED AS I AM!!!!!:
"I'm glad you find so much joy in having 'grand-somethings'. You did forget to mention that you actually have 3 granddogs (Pam, Chi, and Daja), 3 grandcouches (two suede and a leather), and 3 grandguns (.22 caliber pistol and 2 rifles) Please don't leave any of your 'grandchildren' out. "
From?
My daughter. The one who owns the gun! Gulp!
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Superbowl Pooperbowl: One Woman's Quest to Find The Truth in the Sport She Loves Most
I’m thinking every man might want to marry me.
Why?
Because I love football.
Real football!
Not the pretty boy stuff we’ll see on Sunday,
sponsored by all those cute-sie ad companies
and high tech field groomers
and announcers that wear designer suits and blow dried hair,
sprayed perfectly in a womanly, coiffured style.
No. No. NO!
That is not football!
That is an athletic beauty pageant of Hollywood proportions.
Give me the real stuff:
Dirt, mud, fights,
real men fighting all of the elements to prove who is the toughest.
Obscene gestures to the crowd,
with the crowd answering back
using out-of-control hollers and creative signs --
now that’s football.
Which is why I now love the play-offs the most.
Because it's filled with real men doing real things,
minus all of the "cosmetics."
But, shhh,
don’t tell anyone
because if the “money men” find out
the play-offs are becoming the "real attraction,"
they’ll ruin the play-offs too.
Why?
Because I love football.
Real football!
Not the pretty boy stuff we’ll see on Sunday,
sponsored by all those cute-sie ad companies
and high tech field groomers
and announcers that wear designer suits and blow dried hair,
sprayed perfectly in a womanly, coiffured style.
No. No. NO!
That is not football!
That is an athletic beauty pageant of Hollywood proportions.
Give me the real stuff:
Dirt, mud, fights,
real men fighting all of the elements to prove who is the toughest.
Obscene gestures to the crowd,
with the crowd answering back
using out-of-control hollers and creative signs --
now that’s football.
Which is why I now love the play-offs the most.
Because it's filled with real men doing real things,
minus all of the "cosmetics."
But, shhh,
don’t tell anyone
because if the “money men” find out
the play-offs are becoming the "real attraction,"
they’ll ruin the play-offs too.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Some people have grandchildren, I have a grandgun
Some people have grandchildren. This year I became the grandparent of a grandgun. I now have a grandgun, a grandpug, and a grandcouch.
When three of my seven children married, I’m sorry, but I did not want to be a grandparent. For some reason, I had visions (come on, admit it, we all have visions of something sometime). For me, this vision came in the form of me using a walker, wearing dentures. This flash of myself turned me off so badly, that an even worse thought followed, "If this thought turns me off so badly about myself, what might others think of me?" Because of this, all thoughts of grandparenthood went out the window, including visions of huge Thanksgiving dinners with countless nubmers of people running through my house breaking everything in sight. No, I was not ready for this geriatric step down yet.
However, like everything else they've ever done with their lives, the choice for being a parent would belong to my children, so as any good, eternally hostaged, bound and gagged mother, I pondered all of these things in my heart and kept my mouth shut.
But, lo and behold, much to my nongrandparenthood surprise, my children and I, for once, agreed. My children weren’t too excited to have children either! Was this because they had been a child of me, knew what it was like and couldn't imagine being a child of them?
Well, shortly after my son married his wife, they became the owner/parent of the cutest little pug you ever did see. In fact, I’ll bet my one hundred dollar bounced check against your penny any time that my pug is cuter than your pug. I even have the bumper sticker to prove it. So, I told my son and his wife to get me a wallet-sized picture of that darling little Daja for my brag book, and I crowned myself with my first jewel of grandmotherhood. How very multi-group satisfying this experience was.
Then my second child, my daughter got married. And shortly after she and her husband married, they bought the most genius-looking couches you've ever seen. How smart did that full-length couch and love seat look. And they were a set: Twins, in fact, made of the most excellent looking fake suede. So intelligent-looking were they that I yearned for a license plate frame that stated, Proud grandparent of a straight-A couch.
Then, last Christmas, the phone rang. Before I could even say hello, my newly married daughter blurted out, “Mom, guess what? Randy (her new husband) got me a twenty-two caliber gun for Christmas!” Her husband believes everyone should own a gun, and I do too: Everyone, except this daughter… and me. “Well,” I responded, “If I ever ask to borrow it, DON’T GIVE IN! I repeat, DO NOT LET ME EVER BORROW THAT GUN!” I mean I love peace and goodwill towards man, until no one cleans the house for three days straight.
And now, suddenly, I have a whole new different vision of life. Like the other day, I saw on the news that a guy was shot while walking along the local highway, so I emailed my daughter, “You didn’t happen to shoot that guy on the highway last night, did you? Just wondering, Mom.” I mean, I’ve never really grasped the idea of where real sanity ends and genuine insanity begins (what's even scarier is that not one professional in the field of sanity vs. insanity understands this either), so I’m left to wonder along with them. And then I wonder, what next? Hmm, maybe a grand…
When three of my seven children married, I’m sorry, but I did not want to be a grandparent. For some reason, I had visions (come on, admit it, we all have visions of something sometime). For me, this vision came in the form of me using a walker, wearing dentures. This flash of myself turned me off so badly, that an even worse thought followed, "If this thought turns me off so badly about myself, what might others think of me?" Because of this, all thoughts of grandparenthood went out the window, including visions of huge Thanksgiving dinners with countless nubmers of people running through my house breaking everything in sight. No, I was not ready for this geriatric step down yet.
However, like everything else they've ever done with their lives, the choice for being a parent would belong to my children, so as any good, eternally hostaged, bound and gagged mother, I pondered all of these things in my heart and kept my mouth shut.
But, lo and behold, much to my nongrandparenthood surprise, my children and I, for once, agreed. My children weren’t too excited to have children either! Was this because they had been a child of me, knew what it was like and couldn't imagine being a child of them?
Well, shortly after my son married his wife, they became the owner/parent of the cutest little pug you ever did see. In fact, I’ll bet my one hundred dollar bounced check against your penny any time that my pug is cuter than your pug. I even have the bumper sticker to prove it. So, I told my son and his wife to get me a wallet-sized picture of that darling little Daja for my brag book, and I crowned myself with my first jewel of grandmotherhood. How very multi-group satisfying this experience was.
Then my second child, my daughter got married. And shortly after she and her husband married, they bought the most genius-looking couches you've ever seen. How smart did that full-length couch and love seat look. And they were a set: Twins, in fact, made of the most excellent looking fake suede. So intelligent-looking were they that I yearned for a license plate frame that stated, Proud grandparent of a straight-A couch.
Then, last Christmas, the phone rang. Before I could even say hello, my newly married daughter blurted out, “Mom, guess what? Randy (her new husband) got me a twenty-two caliber gun for Christmas!” Her husband believes everyone should own a gun, and I do too: Everyone, except this daughter… and me. “Well,” I responded, “If I ever ask to borrow it, DON’T GIVE IN! I repeat, DO NOT LET ME EVER BORROW THAT GUN!” I mean I love peace and goodwill towards man, until no one cleans the house for three days straight.
And now, suddenly, I have a whole new different vision of life. Like the other day, I saw on the news that a guy was shot while walking along the local highway, so I emailed my daughter, “You didn’t happen to shoot that guy on the highway last night, did you? Just wondering, Mom.” I mean, I’ve never really grasped the idea of where real sanity ends and genuine insanity begins (what's even scarier is that not one professional in the field of sanity vs. insanity understands this either), so I’m left to wonder along with them. And then I wonder, what next? Hmm, maybe a grand…
Monday, January 31, 2005
Right before my daddy died, he looked like he was playing the electric guitar. I know he wouldn’t mind me saying this, cause he had Alzheimer’s and he would not like to have had it…had he known that's what he had.
Dad had Alzheimer’s for twelve years and more often than not, we had a great time -- like the time he jumped out the double-paned window of the secured facility where he was living, (luckily he lived on the first floor) . He ran across the street into the gas station, and smiled all out of breath. “Great day in the morning, gentlemen,” he said, and they replied, “He must be from across the street.” When I arrived to see Dad in the back of the ambulance, he was all smiley and out of breath. “I really did something tonight,” he said, with the innocence of a child who thought he had just won something big. I put my arm around him and said, “You’re gonna be okay, Dad. You really are.” How many times does a child have the privilege of soothing their parent like that?
People used to ask me, “Does he know who you are?” And I would say, “No, but that’s okay ‘cause he likes me even better not knowing who I am.”
So when Dad was dying, I was right by his side cause I loved him and delighted in his hard work ethic, even as an Alzheimer’s patient, pacing floors and moving furniture. I loved the fight he still had in him, and the strength. It takes a lot of strength and determination to jump out of a double-paned window.
So, I held Dad and looked in his eyes and thought about the war of life he had fought, all the way up to the bitter end, and how hard he had worked -- dropping out of school in the eighth grade, then running away at age fifteen, marrying Mom, having nine children, and yet always finding fun in whatever he did … even as an Alzheimer’s patient. “You bet your sweet bippy,” he’d say to the caregivers while smiling with three hats piled on his head, wearing plaid shorts that were two sizes too small, a golf shirt buttoned to the collar, red suspenders that were pulled too tight and sunglasses.
Were we wrong to give him that oxygen he seemed to beg for as he reached for us while gasping for air? This artificial air seemed to help him, yet it seemed to also help his lungs begin to outlive his body, as his muscles started to twitch uncontrollably, as if in rebellion and a necessity to give up the ghost. We didn’t know what to do, so we waited, and held him and watched, as his right arm started twitching, then shaking up and down the length of his body while his left arm became outstretched. We were concerned, wondering what he was doing, and then I said, “He looks like he’s playing the electric guitar.” And we hoped he was, in a brand new place he could call his own. Go, Dad, go. We were excited for him. To watch him become freed from his mental imprisonment. To end this confusing, awful journey, and begin a life we knew he would love so much better. When he died a few minutes later, we cried in relief…for him. Dad was an outdoorsmen. locked in a room for four years. Now he was outdoors again.
Its weird being on earth without your parents, like being a child again on family vacation with the fear that's sometimes carried that your parents might leave without you. And they have. They’ve driven off, leaving me at curbside, to now figure out this world on my own.
And boy, do I have a lot to figure out….married 25 years, seven kids, and then my husband leaves…without me. Wow, it’s a good thing I still know how to have fun.
Dad had Alzheimer’s for twelve years and more often than not, we had a great time -- like the time he jumped out the double-paned window of the secured facility where he was living, (luckily he lived on the first floor) . He ran across the street into the gas station, and smiled all out of breath. “Great day in the morning, gentlemen,” he said, and they replied, “He must be from across the street.” When I arrived to see Dad in the back of the ambulance, he was all smiley and out of breath. “I really did something tonight,” he said, with the innocence of a child who thought he had just won something big. I put my arm around him and said, “You’re gonna be okay, Dad. You really are.” How many times does a child have the privilege of soothing their parent like that?
People used to ask me, “Does he know who you are?” And I would say, “No, but that’s okay ‘cause he likes me even better not knowing who I am.”
So when Dad was dying, I was right by his side cause I loved him and delighted in his hard work ethic, even as an Alzheimer’s patient, pacing floors and moving furniture. I loved the fight he still had in him, and the strength. It takes a lot of strength and determination to jump out of a double-paned window.
So, I held Dad and looked in his eyes and thought about the war of life he had fought, all the way up to the bitter end, and how hard he had worked -- dropping out of school in the eighth grade, then running away at age fifteen, marrying Mom, having nine children, and yet always finding fun in whatever he did … even as an Alzheimer’s patient. “You bet your sweet bippy,” he’d say to the caregivers while smiling with three hats piled on his head, wearing plaid shorts that were two sizes too small, a golf shirt buttoned to the collar, red suspenders that were pulled too tight and sunglasses.
Were we wrong to give him that oxygen he seemed to beg for as he reached for us while gasping for air? This artificial air seemed to help him, yet it seemed to also help his lungs begin to outlive his body, as his muscles started to twitch uncontrollably, as if in rebellion and a necessity to give up the ghost. We didn’t know what to do, so we waited, and held him and watched, as his right arm started twitching, then shaking up and down the length of his body while his left arm became outstretched. We were concerned, wondering what he was doing, and then I said, “He looks like he’s playing the electric guitar.” And we hoped he was, in a brand new place he could call his own. Go, Dad, go. We were excited for him. To watch him become freed from his mental imprisonment. To end this confusing, awful journey, and begin a life we knew he would love so much better. When he died a few minutes later, we cried in relief…for him. Dad was an outdoorsmen. locked in a room for four years. Now he was outdoors again.
Its weird being on earth without your parents, like being a child again on family vacation with the fear that's sometimes carried that your parents might leave without you. And they have. They’ve driven off, leaving me at curbside, to now figure out this world on my own.
And boy, do I have a lot to figure out….married 25 years, seven kids, and then my husband leaves…without me. Wow, it’s a good thing I still know how to have fun.
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