Comedy: Maybelle's Fireside Stories

Oh will ya just look at those stars, all lined up for a whole gaggle of birth days today, don’tcha know. March 22 and we’re right on the bicuspid of Pie-seeun and the next one over, Aireeez.

You got yer Reese Withering Spoon who won the Osker fer playin Johnny Cash’s wife, June…but oh my goodyness, she was terrifik in Vanity Fair. What a movie that was. Took me to places in hisstry I ain’t never been before. And what a romancy story to boot.

Then there’s Andy FLloyd Webber. He’s a bicuspid baby too. And what a mind. Dressed a whole bunch o humans in cat suits, stuck a couple o songs in their mouths, and went laffin all the way ta the bank.

Willie Shatner’s another March 22 Pie-seeun, cept one with a toupee. Oh yea. I seen it drop in a bowl of soup when I was Lost Angeleeez.

And lasting but not least of all…Dwayne Shouldmore. Dwayne is Lake WhaddyathinkImean’s answer to Howdy Doody. They both smile all the time, have freckles on their noses, and wooden heads. Only diffrence…Dwayne is human.

As fer their horror scopes … nothin horrible bout em. Life’s lookin’ good for Pie-seeuns. They kin spect to see little miracles every day from today on-erd.  That’s right, don’tcha know.  So stop complainin’ Pie-seeuns. Every thin good is on its way includin this …

Happy birth day from me, Bogart (my bear), Vilma Yuccch, Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom, Twindle Mumbly, and Sybil Beaucannon-Hughes. Oh, and of course, Nickie B.

Nightie night,  Maybelle

I’m head over heels giddy cause now Vilma Yuccch’s great aunt, Shlerma Grizelda Yuccch (she lives in Forsooth Idaho) can see a doctor when she needs to.  And boy does she ever need to. Why everything that woman touches falls on some part of her body or t’other. Poor Shlerma looks like one big BandAide top to her bottom, don’tcha know. And now she can get fixed up real proper.

Sure enough it was Astro Illology that did it. Seems that feisty Leo-nean in the White House rode the wings of Mars that turned direct on March 10 and got his healthy care thingy passed somehow.  I sure am sorry not everybody’s happy about it.  But Shlerma and millions of folks and their kids were needin’ it so bad, I just know their hearts must be swellin’.

I do hope it all works out for every body, tho. Changin things ain’t never easy. But you gotta start somewhere, don’tcha know.

Which reminds me …I gotta radio show to do. That’s right. Stix Tooya, drummer of the rock group, Gastritis, ( Twindle Mumbly’s twin brother), will be my fractured, uh, featured guest. Why he’ll be improvising all kinds of rhythyms on my wash board, milking stool, and even the deer feeder Beanpole is forever crashing into with his Tiger Moth bi-plane.

Oh, and Bogart’s gonna play on his drum set, don’tcha know.  Such a talented bear.

Gotta go, and remember  … Behind those rain clouds the sun is always shinin’, and if you can’t see it, then you just shine in its place.

Nightie night.  Maybelle

Signs of summer here at Lake WhaddyathinkImean … wakin’  up to squawkin’ geese on the lake just down the hill from my cottage, don’tcha know.  Started at the crack of daylite and it’s still wakin’ up the village.

Now my Auntie Fester usta stuff her earholes with cotton balls the whole summer long. But I kinda like my new fangled alarm clock. I missed the geese these long winter months. Life is good, even if it’s noisy.

Here’s some singin’ that as my good friend Sybil Beaucannon Hughes would say is: Fab-u-licious!  Holyburton’s own rock celebrity, Carl Dixon sang up a storm in Holyburton t’other night. Why that man could power the CN Tower, don’tcha know. Thought his guitar was gonna fly right outta his hands. And his voice! He hit notes Ripley wouldn’t believe.

Well, Vilma Yuccch and Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom jumped right outta their seats and started dancin’ like there was no tamarra.  Beanpole kept buggin’ me ta dance, and Twindle Mumbly lit his shoes on fire with Sybil B.  The whole room was jumpin’. Good ol’ rock songs and even a couple of Jo-Annie Mitchell’s, don’tcha know. Yep, that Carl D sure is somethin’ special!

Too bad they don’t allow bears in that place, Bogart woulda loved it!

Nightie night.  Maybelle

Well, top of the day to ya.  That’s right, it’s St. Patty’s Day here in Lake WhaddyathinkImean and green beers are a-flyin’.  Did you know they’re sayin’ about 13 million pints of Guiness are bein’ drunk today?  No wonder folks look green.  And to think … it was the colour blue that first stuck to St. Patty’s Day over 1,000 years ago.  I guess cause there was no detergent or laundry mats in those days, when St. Patty’s robes got moldy and turned green, so did hisstry.

Oh brother! I can hear Beanpole Starkman’s bi-plane hoverin’ over my cottage. What’s that, Bogart? …Bogart, my bear is growlin’ at me.  Scuse me a second. Bogart, turn on yer voice synthesizer cap sose I can hear what yer thinkin. I’ll write down what he says fer ya. Here it comes: 

Mama Maybelle…St. Patrick’s real given name was Maewyn Succat.

Bogart’s such a smarty-pants. Gets all his information from Google, whoever he is.

Well, I gotta run. Vilma Yuccch and Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom are coming over tonight and I gotta put green veggie dye in the dip, don’tcha know … M

Ya know, back when I was a youngin,  Auntie Fester use-ta tell me what was what by where the stars were sittin.  And I don’t mean the stars in movies and the like.  I mean the ones in the sky at Lake WhaddyathinkImean. You see, Auntie Fester was fascinatin bout astro-illology. She’d measure my head and say it was big cause I was fulla ideas, bein a Geminina and all. That’s the astro-illogical sign I was born under, don’tcha know. She even said one day Maybelle, yer gonna be talkin up a storm to folks who can’t even see ya. And Auntie Fester was right. Turns out I’m talkin to hunreds of folks on my radio show.

Whatcha probly don’t know is, Auntie Fester taught me all about astro-illology and now I’m givin readings too. Like today, bein the middle of March and all, I can surely tell ya if yer a Pie-Seeun, get ready to have the elevator in yer buildin fixed or yer pie won’t rise. That’s cause Yerannus is swirling round Murkery. On the other hand, if yer a SaggingTarius, chin-ups should do it. And if you think astro-illology is fer the birds…you’d be right. Robins and Canada geese are specially partial to readin horror scopes in papers left on park benches.

And remember … behind those rain clouds, the sun is always shinin, and if you can’t see it…you just shine in its place. Nightie night. M

Maybelle’s bio-rhythms are somewhere south of China

Beanpole aside, I know somethins up with me bein’ the biggest klutz east of Kelowna. But why all of a sudden? What in the galaxy is causin’ it? Well, I say, when in doubt, ask. Sose I go on-air and ask my listeners in Lake WhaddyathinkImean to phone in and tell me what they think. And the phones go crazy. Why the noise makes Bogart growl so loud the walls buckle. The poor bear can’t concentrate and he logs off of eHarmony!

Sybil Beaucannon-Hughes calls in and says: “Maybellene DAHLING, (she’s the only one I know calls me Maybellene) …it must be yer BIORHYTHMS!” My WHAT? “Yer biorhythms, dear.” Well, I jump off the phone and boot up my old trusty computer and type into that googlie box:     b-i-o-r-h-y-t-h-m-s. And sure enough, there it is. The answer to my clumsiness. My biorhythms are somewhere south of China. I am doomed to be a moron for the next 5 days.

Top of that, my emotional and physical rhythms are sleepin in the same bed. I’m not even Jewish and all I keep thinkin is, Oy vey! Then I call Sybil back and tell her she’s a smarty-pants cause she’s right, don’tcha know, and she tells me the Japanese keep their airline pilots grounded when their biorhythms are in the hamper. And I can’t help but think, Beanpole should move there. Least in Japan he’s got a chance to see old age.

Why that airplane from La-la land had some transponder troubles or the like, plus it was like pea soup in the cabin, somethin’ about the ventilation system gettin’ a rabbit caught in the pipes.

So the gal next to me is shvitzin’ on my tamale sandwich and her husband needs mouth to mouth regurgitation, when an overhead compartment door flies open, hits the steward in the head and he falls smack in their laps spillin’ bloody mary’s all over the place.

Ya know…it made me feel right at home. For those of you who listen to my radio show, Fireside Stories from Lake WhaddyathinkImean, you know how crazy things can get when my friends drop by. Well, I’m back home now with my pet bear, Bogart, (gee I missed him) my pals, Vilma Yuccch, Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom, Beanpole Starkman, Twindle Mumbly, and of course, my engineer, Nickie B … and we got another episode airing this Saturday, March 13 at 12:40 pm EST and Sunday, March 14 at 5:00 PM EST at http://www.canoefm.com. (Just click on “click ‘n listen.”)

You kin also listen right now to a whole bunch of other episodes. Just click on “Fireside Stories from Lake WhaddyathinkImean” under Comedy Radio just to yer right. See ya. Maybelle

Oh my goodyness, I was walkin with my friend Clara Bellini into a hardware store the likes of which Lake WhaddyathinkImean ain’t never seen before and who do I see walkin out? — LEONARD NEMOY, don’tcha know. That’s right. I’d know him anywhere, even without his pointy Star Trek ears.

And tonight as I was walkin into a sushi restaurant, uh-huh, (Clara insisted I get with the 21st century and eat some raw fish) I walked right past Wladyslaw Szpilman, I mean, Adrien Brody who PLAYED Szpilman in that movie called The Pianist. Why he looks 10 years younger and skinnier to boot.

What a place this is…movie stars comin and goin, goin and comin. Sure made that raw tuna go down a whole lot easier.

Nightie night. Maybelle

First I gotta tell ya, I walked along this street they call Melrose. Nothin rosey about it, but oh my, you shoulda seen those outfits. Up at Lake WhaddyathinkImean we wear bluejeans loose enough sose you can wear yer long johns underneath. But here in LaLa Land, they got these stretchy jeans that fit ya so tight the veins in yer legs pop. The only things I want poppin are my rice crispies.

As fer what they call “the Grove,” I’m over the moon giddy. What a place! It’s like the prettiest parts of Disneyland. A dancin’ fountain, music in the streets, sidewalk cafes, a really big movie theatre the likes of which Lake W has never seen before, and holy Toledo, a half naked BUFFED young man standin real still like a mannequin smack dab in the doorway of a clothin store, don’tcha know. Guess that’s one way to attract attention and bring young folks into the store. I couldn’t believe my eyes, sose I took me a picture.

Just wait ’til Vilma Yucch, Twindle Mumbly, and the rest of my friends in Lake WhaddyathinkImean get a load of this.

Nightie night. Maybelle

Well, I started my day seein’ my old friend, Sybil Beaucannon Hughes sister Morlin’s personal trainer, Bob. What a site for bored eyes. My grey hair is turnin’ red just thinkin’ about him. Why he had me movin’ parts of my body I forgot I had. And real slowwww. Said it all had to do with clearin’ out the lymph nodes, don’tcha know. Well, he kin clear my lymph nodes any time of day.

THEN, Morlin and her pet cattle dog, Porky, took me on down to Venice Beach. What a place that was. You’d think it was Halloween. But Morlin explained that’s just how people dress in these parts. Sose we passed by wee shops, don’tcha know, and one was sellin’ botox treatments, and stuff that blows yer lips up real big. Thought that might be kinda fun. Sose yer truly now looks like I got two inner tubes fer lips.

And I even got myself a tattoo of a moose. Just wait ’til Vilma Yuccch, Beanpole Morton, and the gang up at Lake WhaddyathinkImean see it. I’ll have ta take my boot off, tho. Cause I had em put it on the bottom of my foot. Only place that isn’t wrinkled.

And THEN I filled up with tacos at Holy Guacamole on Main Street. Perdy darn good, if you ask me. What a day. What a place. Take good care and I’ll report back tamarra. Love ya, Maybelle.