If You Give a Musk a Chainsaw

If you give a Musk a chainsaw, he’s going to ask for a special post.

When you give him the post, he’ll probably ask you for a badge.

When he’s finished, he’ll ask you for the checkbook.

Then he’ll want to look in the records to make sure he doesn’t have any critics.

When he looks in the records, he might notice his company is up for audit.

So he’ll probably ask for a pair of pink slips.

When he’s finished laying off the auditors, he’ll want an excuse to cover it up.

He’ll keep firing.

He might get carried away and fire every post in D.C.

He may even end up closing the parks as well!

When he’s done, he’ll probably want to take a nap.

You’ll have to fix up a little office for him with a cot and a pillow.

He’ll crawl in, make himself comfortable and fling salutes a few times.

He’ll probably ask you to read him the headlines.

So you’ll read to him from one of your feeds, and he’ll ask to see the comments.

When he looks at the comments, he’ll get so enraged that he’ll want to send a reply on X.

Then he’ll want to mandate his story be seen by everyone.

Which means he’ll need media.

He’ll publish his story and stand back to look at it.

Looking at Congress will remind him that he’s powerhungry.

So…he’ll ask for another post.

And chances are if he asks you for a special post, he’s going to want a chainsaw to go with it.

ISO a UNICORN

ISO a UNICORN this Christmas—primary for play and pleasure: obstacles, baby dressage, rides around the farm. Should be easygoing and willing to stand around for long grooming sessions.

Doesn’t have to be bombproof, but MUST be able to take a joke. Confidence-builder type. Should be the same whether riding every day or with a few weeks off. Soft, light, balanced, SOUND.

16.1- 17hh preferred—any taller does a number on my back. Between 25 and 40; no greenies, please. Woman preferred, but the right man will be considered. Absolutely no OTCHs*; I love them, they’re very special, but I just can’t do that level of jittery energy at my age.

Reasonable maintenance (ibuprofen, voltaren) is to be expected: clean X-rays will be required. Good feet are a must—nothing that bruises if you take a wrong step. 

Budget 4carrots.** 

Not in a rush. Current partner continues to supply (somewhat inadequate) snacks for now. 

Sincerely,

#VerdicttheHorse

* Off the Corporate Hustles

**Literally 4. Unless I can steal more. 

Dammit, V. Looks like someone took a hack with my account again…

#JentheHuman

The 12 Months of Ownership

[to the tune of “The 12 Days of Christmas”]

In the first month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, a nail in the sole of his foot.

In the second month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, large abscesses

In the third month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, lost hoof boots

In the fourth month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, a few glorious rides

In the fifth month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, a fat swollen knee

In the sixth month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, the other knee a-swelling

In the seventh month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, bruised ribs from falling

In the eighth month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, rope burn from spooking

In the ninth month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, abscess and concussion 

In the tenth month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, eye ulceration

In the eleventh month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, legs caught in fencing

In the twelfth month of ownership, my heart horse gave to me, mystery ailments…

…no wonder I can’t wait for Year 2!

Dear Kindly IRS Agent,

Dear Kindly IRS Agent,

I’m writing to present my case for a silent and all-too-common flaw in the U.S. tax code, causing thousands of dollars of misrepresented fiscal reporting and threatening the livelihoods of many a responsible taxpayer: namely, the failure to recognize horses as dependents.

Before you object, allow me to explain.

My horse clearly meets all of the legal tests for dependency.

Dependent Taxpayer Test: All good there. Just because you turned down my offer to pay for my taxes with natural organic fertilizer last year doesn’t change that. I’m still on my own–by the skin of my teeth.

Joint Return Test: He’s definitely unmarried. Despite his overtures to the mares next door.

Citizen or Resident Test: Born in Canada, permanent resident of the U.S. He can confirm–he has no intention of going anywhere on that terrifying monster of a trailer. Check.

Relationship Test: Considering that I pay more for his education than I did for my own, I think we can safely call him my adopted child. If not, see Member of Household.

Age Test: Under age 19: check. Also younger than me, as I have aged prematurely over the course of our relationship.

Residency / Member of Household Test: Mucking, watering, dressing wounds, very occasionally riding, cleaning hooves, soaking feet, repairing blankets…yep, if you tally up all the hours I’ve spent in my second home (a.k.a., “his stall”), he has absolutely lived with me for more than half the year. Just ask my friends and family.

Support Test: I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT HE HAS NOT PROVIDED MORE THAN HALF OF HIS OWN SUPPORT.

[deep breath]

Moving on.

So, you can see, dear kindly IRS agent, the only barrier between me and an accurate representation of my financial straits is that teensy, tiny word “person.”

Wouldn’t you agree that it’s time for an edit?

One Harried (and One Hairy) Citizen,

Jen (and Court Verdict)

P.S. In lieu of editing the tax code, please revisit the aforementioned offer of alternative payment methods. Craptocurrency is the finance of the future. -J

A Harried Citizen Horse-Owner

How COVID Stole Christmas

Very little about COVID is funny. And yet, to quote Georgette Heyer, an author I’ve never read but think was onto something: “In real life tragedy and comedy are so intermingled that when one is most wretched ridiculous things happen to make one laugh in spite of oneself.” I hope you’ll enjoy this bit of humor and wordplay about the crazy season we’re in, and be able to laugh in spite of yourself.

*Politics is inescapable.

**Captions added, although it’s obviously better with my dulcet tones.

***Scientific errors are for the sake of puns, and I do not apologize.

The Magic Resisted

When the muggles are taken from us, all that is left is for the wizards to unite.*

Day 31

Very aware of my surroundings.

Released a baby mandrake from a water orb. I know how the poor little guy feels. We’re all screaming inside.

Fought off a boggart to free Ron.

The magic resisted.

Found myself wanting to hug Ron.

Practiced the recanto meteorolojinx spell.

The magic resisted.

Still raining.

Made potions. All day. I’m stocked.

Ran out of dragon’s blood. There are no delivery slots this week.

Spell energy is depleted.

All the Inns are closed.

It’s official. My potions are better than my cooking. Looks like Baruffio’s Brain Elixir for dinner again.

Had to fight a werewolf and an erkling. They weren’t practicing social distancing.

The magic resisted.

Ran out of erumpent horn again.

Returned a troll music box to Romilda Vane in a no-touch delivery.

Practiced aguamenti charm. Wand movement has gotten sloppy.

The magic resisted.

Walked around the house to unlock a portkey.

77 steps to walk through every room.

I’ll save the back deck for tomorrow.

 

*For those who are not familiar, Wizards Unite is an augmented reality app/game (similar to Pokémon Go) based on the Harry Potter universe. It’s fun. You know, for pandemics.

Parts in Your World

Tomorrow, I say goodbye to my faithful car of 14 years, a 2002 Honda Civic named Sylvie. It seems only fair to commemorate her quirky humor and adventurous spirit in song—her own special anthem. I bet you can sing along.

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Parts in Your World

Look at this plate
Isn’t it neat?
Wouldn’t you think my transmission’s complete?
Wouldn’t you think I’m the car,
The car who has everything?
Look at this well
Treasures untold
How many scratches can one paint job hold?
Lookin’ around here you’d think
(Sure) she’s got everything

I’ve got small dents and sweat stains aplenty
I’ve got oil leaks and cracked glass galore
(You want manual parts?
I’ve got twenty)
But who cares?
No big deal
I want more

I want to be where the salvage yards are
I want to see
Want to see ‘em crushin’
Stackin’ the steel on that
(Whad’ya call it?) oh – press
Rollin’ your wheels you just work too hard
Blocks are required for sittin’, sunnin’
Shreddin’ your tires with the
(What’s that word again?) scrap

Up where they pile
Up where they smash
Up where they stay until they are trash
Careless and free
Wish I could be
Parts in that world

What would I give
If I could live
Outta these driveways?
What would I pay
To spend a day
Recycling?
Betcha as junk
They like your trunk
Bet they don’t fuss about the AC
So we lost keys?
Our exhaust pleads
Ready to rust

And ready to know what the pigeons know,
Ask ‘em my questions
And get some answers
What’s a Tesla, and why is it
(What’s the word?) green?

When’s it my scene?
Wouldn’t I love,
Love to explore that heap up above?
Out for a fee,
Wish I could be
Parts in that world.

RIP, Sylvie. 2002-2019
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Deathly Cute Hallows

1328C126-4285-4F16-883C-AF0C35E102B3Happy Halloween! Today, instead of feverishly assembling a quirky costume, I’m pondering something a little different.

What would it look like to prepare for death on Halloween, in keeping with the holiday’s historical roots (read more)?

Hang with me.

I will admit: the thought first crossed my mind this morning as I puked in an airport bathroom. Thanks, food poisoning. Yay, vacation!

And still, I don’t write this in a spirit of despair, even if it is more serious than my typical fare.

Here are a few things I would like to add to my Halloween traditions,* from surface to deep dive:

Surface—settle debts. Pay off your credit cards. PayPal your team captain for those tournament fees. They haven’t actually forgotten.

Surface—clear away clutter. Imagine someone needed to clean out your house. Do you really need four pairs of black heels? Donate that extra set of children’s classics and toss that dusty box of DVDs. Two words: Christmas. Sweaters.

Deep—reflect on loved ones lost. Take time to remember the funny thing grandpa said last Thanksgiving or what your friend’s mom used to make for birthdays.

Deeper—restore/rebuild/reinforce relationships. Tell your mom thank you for the sacrifices she made. Make amends where needed. Reach out to that friend you haven’t heard from in a while. 

Deepest—do some soul-searching. Whether spiritual or not, examine how your life reflects your values today and how to close those gaps.

522CF61E-CF8F-48BA-BEA3-90053E4BC4E6I’m all for the candy and adorable costumes, don’t get me wrong, but I also think there’s a lot to be gained from occasionally paying attention to our mortality… something beyond the dozen-and-one identical country songs.

*Things NOT on my list: puking in airport bathrooms. May that be a once-in-a-lifetime joy. Please and thank you, amen.

On Both Sides

There’s wisdom on both sides. In a few months there will be wisdom on neither side.

On December 13, well into my thirties, I will be losing the four emblems of wisdom that fought their way out of my gums more than ten years ago.

On the other hand, sometimes you just have to grit your teeth and cut them out of your life.

They stopped being considerate of their neighbors, started holding on to little irritants like kale from yesterday’s dinner that stuck beneath the surface and grated on others’ nerves.

Getting to the root of the problem is the real issue.

Ignoring the situation only made it worse. Patching up the cavities that appeared was a temporary solution, and the rot kept coming back, costing more time and effort to remove.

But it’s all face-numbingly stupid.

You’re just trying to eat, drink, and live—why can’t they let you be happy looking at pictures of kittens and babies? Why keep reminding you about (mostly distant) pain?

That was the last straw. Please stop sucking.

Now, in addition to surgery, you have to reverse decades-old thinking about how to heal and what to avoid. Pour salt water on the wounds but don’t spit? Come on.

Does dentistry ever remind you of politics?

No? Just me. Okay. Don’t mind me.

I’ll just be over here with my swollen face, not talking, through the holidays.

And scene.

C5D87964-FC9F-40B2-BBB9-A45AB2A9192DImage source: https://www.albanyoms.com/blog/fun-facts-about-wisdom-teeth/

10 Statements in Error

…at an autumn wedding

  1. “It was summer yesterday, so it will feel like summer at 9pm tomorrow.”
  2. “Taking this dark shortcut to cut off a corner of the highway is a good idea.”
  3. “They won’t mind if we use this back entrance.”
  4. “I already got my ID back from the hotel clerk.”
  5. “I can carry this takeaway cup of coffee on the disc golf course.”
  6. “The best throw is between those two trees.”
  7. “Wedge heels.”
  8. “I can step over this chain in a dress.”
  9. “I should harmonize with this kazoo.”
  10. “Nope, not going to cry.”

xoxo, A & I