Copyright 2006, 2007, 2008   Bobbi G Enterprises, Inc., published by: Homestead.  All rights reserved.







Column published weekly, edited for content on this website.
Copyright 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011 .  All rights reserved.
WARNING: This page requires a predetermined sense of humor!
KEEP CHECKING IN, UPDATED...USUALLY!
remember
SMILES ARE FOREVER!
And they look sooooooo good on you.
If Love were a Song

Ever wonder what LOVE would sound like if it were a song? Well, in case your emotions have left you a babbling idiot (and I mean that kindly) I’ve done the leg work and composed “sweet nothings” for your Valentine this year using titles from the top most popular love songs. Feel free to use any part of following when you express your undying affection for the object of your heart’s desire. Hope I didn’t leave out your favorite song… here goes nothing…
Ohhhh, I was “leaving on a jet plane” riding the “winds of change” in the “November rain” because I felt so “alone again.” Sadly, I said “goodbye to romance” thinking I was “all out of love.” Then “the first time I saw your face” it was “more than words” could express. My heart skipped a beat as I drifted out of my “comfort zone.” “Because of you” “at last” I “can’t fight this feeling.” Baby, “every time I look at you” “I’ll see you in my dreams” dancing “cheek to cheek” to an “eternal flame” “on the wings of love.”
“Amazed” “a moment like this” could even exist I’ll sing “the angel song” for you because you are an “angel of mine.” And “until the day I die” “I’ll be there for you” because this “crazy love” of mine tells me there’s “no one like you.” This must be “how forever feels” because my heart is caught in a “ring of fire” and I have to remind myself “breathe.” Was Garth Brooks right, are there really “unanswered prayers?”
Sweetheart, “‘til there was you” love eluded me. It was “something I could never have.” “The promise” I thought I’d never know again. “Then I met you” and I “can’t help falling in love” “Truly, madly, deeply” in love. You know you are so “unforgettable” and “the closer I get to you” I realize you are the “love of a lifetime.” For once in my life “I knew I loved you” as soon as our eyes met. Some say “love is blind” but “you are my sunshine” and “I just want to hold your hand” for ever.
Oh, “fly me to the moon” “I just want to be your everything.” Is that wrong? Because baby, it “feels so right” just like “when you say nothing at all” that’s when “you are so beautiful” yet “you had me at hello.”
Baby, “have you ever needed someone so bad” you “don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?” Well, to prove my love I wrote “a song for you” because you are “always on my mind” and “somebody like you” should be in a love song. I call it “the kiss” because “I will always love you” “forever and always.” “Give me your heart” and “love me tender” in return and “till the end of time” I want to wake up every morning and say, “Hello darlin’” “today I started loving you again.”
Okay… too much… not enough. Dickens, I think I choked up a little on “the dance.” But hey, we all want to hear those three little words… No, not “pass the jelly.” Be serious, Valentine’s Day is around the corner and unless you’ve planned ahead you’re probably scrambling to find your schnookums a token of your love… or, those sexy undies with the… well, never mind.
A word caution, if I’ve learned nothing else in life I have learned talk is cheap. So don’t take “I love you” for granted… SHOW someone you love them. Men, women actually prefer practical gifts like pedicures, a spa package and anything consider ‘bling.’ Ladies, men like practical gifts too like beer… beer and… um, more beer! Oh wait, make that last beer a recliner-side cooler. Ladies, this will keep you from making numerous trips to the fridge while you’re admiring your bling. (Yeah, I laughed when I wrote it too; Beer smeer… you’ll be at the spa.)
Seriously though, if you truly love someone… and who doesn’t want “a love like Johnny and June”… just remember “I love you” is only half the equation… show them you love them too. So, be good and kind to each other and have Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!!
Can you imagine…if Love were a song?

copyright 2011 - Bobbi G
Sassy Tracks!

Have you ever planned something down to the scotch tape? I did this past weekend when I planned a surprise birthday party for my mom. Mom, God love her, is about as gullible as a person can get. Yep, never a dull moment growing up; it was pretty much non-stop knee-slapping fun. So to show mom how much we love and appreciate all she’s done to keep the laughter in the family flowing, I planned to surprise her on her ‘milestone’ birthday. But here’s what happened…
Wanting this to be an extra special event I found a picture of mom as a little girl and had it put on a cake. A little disappointed the picture came out a tad pink, but what can you expect when printing on a sheet of sugar. But mom’s a girl, so it worked. The cake was still kinda plain even with the purple border so I added a few sprinkles around the edges and wa-la… it was perfect. Mom would love it.
Saturday morning, I let the canine crew out as usual, checking the cake as I went. Yeppers, perfect… all was right with the universe. When I came back in everything was… too quite. Yikes! While my dogs were outside doing stinky and tinky duty, my cat Sassy, decided to take her morning stroll across the top of my mother’s birthday cake. AHHHHHH! I freaked. There wasn’t time to get another cake; I was leaving in two hours.
Taking a deep breath I tried to wrap my mind around what happened in the 30 seconds it took me to put the dogs in the backyard. Upon examining the cake it was obvious Sassy tried to walk across the box top and fell through the cellophane. There was a huge (at least six inches) trench across the bottom right corner, which must have been from her back leg. Because I could make out where her two front paws landed by the claw holes punctured in the sugar paper.
My only thought was, thank God she missed the picture. I couldn’t imagine my mom’s image looking like Freddy Krueger had been invited. Luckily, I had taken pictures of the cake before the cat decided to practice her new line dancing routine. Therefore, I decided not to spend time or energy tracking down and killing the cat…
However, not sure I could fix it; I momentarily panicked and sent a picture of the feline offense in a typical ‘dead cat walking’ text. One friend responded and said they had a gun. Hmmm… maybe. My daughter called and said, “Don’t kill the cat!” Hmmm… maybe.  Okay, enough with the fantasy. Reality was a frosting lick away from a great party and I had to move fast.
Given my limited pastry skills though, I prayed it was salvageable… it had to be. Rushing to the grocery store, I found myself buying bright white frosting at eight in the morning. Once I got home I patched the abyss with enough frosting to fill a dump truck and decided it would have to do. Besides, a few well placed sprinkles and she’d never know.
Picking up mom and distracting her for two hours wasn’t hard. All I had to do was mention Walmart. Except mom had a few other errands to run first, which ran out the clock and unfortunately there wasn’t time for Wally World. Aww shucks!
Oh boy, mom was really upset too when I told her we had to go. Dickens, I’m positive she would have sent me to my room if I still lived at home. However, once she entered her condo and saw everyone, the decorations, and the feline-friendly cake she was happily surprised. She even asked me, “Did you know about this?” Hmmm… maybe.
Can you imagine… dancing on your birthday cake?
copyright 2011 - Bobbi G
Technological meltdown

I’m about as techie as a caterpillar. And that’s on a good day. So when my cell phone wouldn’t charge anymore, I panicked because the battery icon showed two bars. For someone who talks as much as I do, that’s like death row in the cellular world. Then durned if I didn’t get a call; yikes one bar left! Yes, losing all contact with the outside world was looming in my expiring battery’s future.
Friends, sometimes I am forced into brilliance and this was one of those times. Remembering all my contacts didn’t transfer the last time I suffered cell phone demise I had to act fast. Time being the driving force, I hurriedly scanned my contact list and wrote down all the crucial numbers I didn’t want to lose. After all, I wasn’t sure how long one bar equated to in real time. Besides, it was a long list when you consider my nail salon, the FOCUS and the Dalai Lama hot line. Whew! Just in time too, because as the phone breathed its final breath, I sighed.
Armed with my deceased link to the outside world and a plan I went to visit my wireless rep, Chris. (They are so much friendlier than the wired ones who can only walk six feet from the desk because of their power cord… makes them cranky.) Anyway, I explained the phone wouldn’t take a charge and I was desperate. Desperate enough change my contract if I could pleeeeease have a new phone. Dickens, I was willing to promise anything… my first born, a new car, a lifetime supply of homemade chocolate chip cookies. ANYTHING!
So, Chris checked my account (they always check your account) and after I promised to bake cookies I explained it wouldn’t charge anymore because the ‘thing-a-ma-jiggy’ was broken. He said, “Yeah, the charge port doesn’t seem to be working.” “Yes, the charge port is apparently defective,” I agreed. (Hey, even I can fake anything in a pinch!)
Amazingly, someone had just turned in a purple flip phone and I fell in love. (Call it my “little purple pill.”) Then I asked him to turn off the, “I don’t know where I’m going or how I got here,” button. Jeepers, that little button costs $1.99 every time you hit it accidentally. Trust me. 
My moment of brilliance paid off though, because he wouldn’t have been able to transfer my contacts with the thingy broken. So I managed to retain all my contacts I didn't want to lose. Just had to re-enter them.
Well wouldn’t you know, as soon as my contact with the outside world is restored my monitor screen goes black. I’m talking completely, totally and utterly black. Grabbing my “little purple pill” I placed an emergency call to my computer geek. The diagnosis: a new monitor. Really, who knew? While I still had him on the phone, however, I asked if there was anything I needed to know about buying a monitor. He said make sure it’s VGA. “Um… ooookaaay…”
Dashing out the door into the pouring rain I drove as fast as weather conditions would allow to the big box computer store, confident, because I was armed with the knowledge of VGA. Until I was standing there, soaking wet, in the monitor aisle. Tell me who invented a monitor for every occasion. Dickens, I just want to see what I’m typing. Suddenly, a very young and very techno-oriented salesperson came to my rescue. Saying the only thing that guaranteed I knew exactly what I was talking about I asked, “Which one is a VGA?” Of course, he grabbed a card from in front of a reasonably priced monitor and started reading all the specifications. As I reflect, I’m pretty sure he was trying to trip me up with a foreign language. None the less, I nodded and added a few well placed “oh’s” and “ah’s” for effect. Finally I croaked, “Is bigger really better?”
Leaving the store with a brand new 21.5 inch monitor I was feeling more ‘techie’ every second. Once I got it hooked up, however, I realized it’s soooo long… er… wide… hmm, not sure the correct ‘techie’ terminology. Now that I’ve been using it though, I’m getting whiplash looking from one side to the other and I’ve noticed my mouse is in serious need of a road map.
Can you imagine…if the microwave had blown up too?
  copyright 2011 - Bobbi G
Due to popular demand this story will hang around for awhile.
Male and Female parts

After chips and salsa at a local restaurant a friend invited me to Karaoke night at… Well, I can’t mention the name, but it rhymes with ‘toddler’s cup.’ Of course, I hemmed and hawed because I wasn’t really interested in driving to another universe. But I decided, “Why not?”  Besides, I knew the owners and had spoken to them about teaching comedy classes there.
It was a tad early for Karaoke, so I stood at the bar wondering why I was standing at the bar. When suddenly, butter my buns and call me a biscuit, but you’ll never believe who walked in the door! My favorite Oktoberfest Idol winner and his best friend, I almost fell over.
They hadn’t seen me yet so I said, “Hey, it’s me, Bobbi G!” (Thought I’d better tell them, because the last time they saw me I was blonde.) Suddenly there was an explosion of hugs, hugs and more hugs. Then after all the ‘shows of affection’ they told me they enjoy this column and never miss a week. At which point I started quizzing them to make sure they read me. Not really. Actually, I was flattered they’ve kept up with me after all this time.
Then my friends convinced me I needed to sing with them. Of course, I’m more of a dancer. (Used to teach dancing.) And I’ve told you about the time I took singing lesson, which you can read about again on my Blog if you’d like. But I’ll try (almost) anything once. As long as it sounds fun… is legal… and tastes like chicken! So I thought, “Why the dickens not?” Suddenly, our names were called and we got up on stage to sing the song “Pictures.”
Usually, when I have a microphone in my hand I’m telling jokes or motivating people.  But there I was on stage singing “I put your picture awaaaay….” Can’t tell you how I did, because it’s all a blur. I was just trying to remember which color I was supposed to be. You see; if you’ve never sung Karaoke before, the male and female parts are color coded so you’ll know when it’s your turn to sing. However, the advice I was given after the song referred to the microphone. Apparently, I wasn’t hitting the mike’s ‘sweet’ spot.
All I can say to that is, thank goodness the dance music started (I sing better when I’m dancing). There is just something about music that speaks to my soul. So dickens, I peeled off a layer and hit the floor. We all burned up the dance floor to the Cupid’s Shuffle, some hip-hop and disco. Wowzer, we were having a blast!
The night ended as I nervously sang with my favorite singer, who can belt out any Conway Twitty song and sound just like him. Sigh. Except after we sang ‘It’s your love,” he said I didn’t know when to come in and go out. Well, I couldn’t exactly help it! The words weren’t color coded, so I pretty much stuck to the chorus. And then he said I didn’t moan. Hey, a little candlelight, soft music, wine and… well, never mind. But seriously, if you’re going to have male and female parts they should be color coded. Am I right?
Anyway, I had the best time the other night. Meeting so many of you who read my column each week was very humbling. It means a lot to hear all of you say how much my weekly dose of zaniness or inspiration means to you. Because under this “Bobbi G” persona… cracking jokes… acting silly… and making sure everyone is laughing and having a great time is just a soft hearted woman who truly cares about you. And you showed me how much you care too. Thank you for being there for me, because, no matter what is going on in my life, it means the world to me to be here for you each week. 
Can you imagine…color coded parts?

copyright 2011 - Bobbi G
Follow the hand

What did one bacteria say to the other bacteria? “Hey man, what’s bugging you?” Hahahahaha Okay, it wasn’t that funny. If bacteria could talk though, wouldn’t it be nice if we could hear them shouting, “We are here, we are here!” Sorta like the Who’s in Horton hears a Who. Now that I’ve brought the subject up, walk through this scenario with me.
A man rushes through the glass door, his entire body panicked. His eyes dart frantically around the room looking for relief. There… over there in the corner of the room. Bursting through a group of people about to sit at a table he rushes to the back of the restaurant. Finally in the men’s room he flings open a stall door and enters. The explosion was enormous. He couldn’t believe he’d made it in time. Sitting there for a few minutes trying to regain his composure, he almost laughed as he pictured himself dashing through the room.
Afterwards, standing at the sink and obviously feeling better he looked at his image in the mirror. Satisfied, he tucked a tuff of hair behind his right ear with his right hand. The same hand he used to wipe up the aftermath. Walking out the door the idea of washing his hands never occurred to him. Striding slowly up the aisle he greeted a friend with a hearty handshake and nodded at seated patrons as he walked to the counter.  After ordering a double cheese burger, large fries and large drink he was handed and tray with an empty cup; immediately going to the soda fountain to fill it with Dr. Pepper, of course, with his right hand again.
You arrived after him so you didn’t see the scene as it played itself out. And even if you did, how could you have known if he had washed his hands. Placing your order you also receive an empty cup. Guess what? You like Dr. Pepper too. Later that day your stomach starts churning. Worried you begin to think an intestinal malfunction is almost certainly eminent. This can’t be good….
Am I trying to turn you into a germaphobic? Not at all. Just want you to be aware of your surroundings; especially if those surroundings are in your favorite fast food establishment. Studies show 48% have a bacteria, commonly found in feces, present on the customer-friendly-and-convenient soda fountain. Dickens, “Where’s the beef?” should be re-coined “Where’s the bacteria?”
Instead of making our lives easier by placing the drink fountain in the restaurant area so we could help ourselves to as many refills as we need to make ourselves blissfully tinkle happy. They have invited the hygiene-challenged among us to spread germs to unsuspecting patrons, namely us, while we are dining. Stomach turning? Well, hold on to your antibacterial gel, I’m on a roll.
Once upon a time, a 12 year old girl won a science fair proving there were more bacteria in ice cubes used in fast food establishments than there was in the toilet water. Let’s not forget the ‘lemon-wedge’ scare where two out of three wedges were completely contaminated. My question is what happened to hair nets and plastic gloves? Were they replaced by nose, eyebrow and tongue piercings? And how is that hygienic?
On a lighter note, I’ve always said the best thing about working out at the gym is the hot tub. Then I read a study showing hot tubs are a toilet flush away from being completely contaminated with fecal bacteria. (All together now… EWWWWW!) Makes perfect sense after all, when you jump in the hot tub you take your bottom with you. Showering first won’t help either. You see, those little buggers are lurking in the pipes just waiting for you to turn the jets on. Then it’s… “Yippee! We are here, we are here!” By the way, poop just loves a long soak too. The cure… vinegar.
But wait, there’s more. Between 2 and 9 pounds of your body weight is from bacteria. Mostly those adaptive little microbes live in your intestinal tract. Gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘mushroom top’ doesn’t it? No need to panic. Most are friendly; or, at least amiable. So if we ‘follow the hand,’ it’s easy to see we do an excellent job of helping germs hitch rides onto all types of surfaces, even other people. (One more time…. EWWWWW!) The cure… just wash those germs down the drain. But not in the hot tub. Actually, butts are in the… never mind.
Can you imagine…a cure for the hygiene-challenged?

copyright 2011 - Bobbi G
NEW
email me

828-695-9018

...where the "G" stands for giggles!
email me