Once upon a time...many moons ago, Lin grew up. I know, it's an inevitability...so why should anyone care?
Lin USED to be really shy...She'd sit in her green arm chair in her bedroom, with her stereo on, reading like the voracious hermit she was...but adolescence gave way...to...gulp ADULTHOOD, and with it strange new things she had to figure out.
She got married young, to a man with definite likes about television. Growing up as she did, Lin was very used to the MAN OF THE HOUSE controlling what the whole household HAD to watch on the glowing CRT bulb...that didn't change JUST because she'd gotten married and crossed over into the "freeing" concept of "being adult."
Hence there were two shows back then this Lin, was FORCED to watch over and over and over again...STAR TREK and THE BENNY HILL SHOW.
I must confess...I was not the typical female back then watching STAR TREK and hoping James T. Kirk would be shown in combat, his Captain's shirt cast aside so I could see his...RIPPLING?...with THAT belly?..torso accented by alien bands and cuffs. What I'm about to admit, may explain me a bit more than I might care for it to, but I believe in letting the chips fall where they may...
I had a HUGE crush on old Mr. Sexy-ears, and well arched brows SPOCK. His "Live long and prosper" mantra combined with the oh so expressive hand gesture melted my cockles much, much more than Kirk's posing so his Spandex encased lower regions could be strategically jutted to match the come-hither look in his eyes.
Moving on...Benny Hill...I grew up in a very staid sorta family that never discussed body functions, let alone made fun of them. The Benny Hill Show always made me blush and want to run and hide...
BUT I've grown up. Not sure if that's a good thing...but there you have it.
You all know I have about 12 blogs I actively create posts for, and most of my posts are accented with pics. Ti's a tedious job, but along the way I keep my eyes peeled for stuff to either use later or that tickle the funny bone.
In my life now there is someone who LOVES potty humor...You KNOW who you are, so I keep my eye peeled for this person...simply because I know my sending this person this stuff gives that person's intensely hectic world a moment or two of stress relieving laughter.
It dawned on me this morning as I surfaced from the depths of slumber, my captures might give others the same moments of stress relieving laughter...so here I am...ready, willing and able to share the therapy...AND admit, I finally understand why THE BENNY HILL SHOW was so popular.
So are you ready?
It isn't always easy being responsible for bringing intelligent potty humor to the person I seek this for, but I do try...
And like the greatst of conductors, I begin my symphony of t-paper arias.
Of course being an adoring pet of two very creative kitties I learned long ago the great fascination they have for the many charms to be found in the potty room.
There are aspects of pottyism I really try hard not to remember...like my dad and my oldest brother...both who smirked like they'd accomplished something award winning when they let the ghost loose.
But of course, those of us who had to follow the ghost's release noticed something...
really scary. Don't know why the ghost wafting about made the T-P do the above, and I was not about to ask it for an explanation.
But the absolute worst exposé of what should be hidden, happened one Christmas Night. Have you ever wondered how Santa can sail around the world in one night and not have to give in to the call of Nature? Well to my less than wondering eyes, I happened to be peeking out a few years ago...only to wish I could acid wash the image from my screaming eyeballs afterwards.
Bet you didn't know the inflatable dump existed. I will never think of Santa in the same way ever again, or what all he carries around in his sleigh...will you?
And now we end Part One of GROWING UP LIN where we began...kinda...Remember my crush on Spock...
...well gotta give him credit for his potty logic.
And Now I leave you to go off and seek more pearls of tootie-ness...just in case.