Snake Oil Saleswoman?

Snake Oil comes from the 19th-century American practice of selling cure-all elixirs in traveling medicine shows. Snake oil salesmen would falsely claim that the potions would cure any ailments. now-a-days it refers to fake products. “why did you buy that snake oil? it does absolutely nothing!” Medicine or therapy that doesn’t work. Most of the stuff sold at health food stores are snake oil products. any dubious or fraudulent remedy or cure (The route of the fraud the word is derived from resulted from a misunderstanding of a traditional Chinese joint and muscle painkiller derived from the skin of the Chinese water snake) That snake oil is so obvious. When will people learn? con faker snake-oil snake oil salesman snakeoil   A woman that likes to cause mischief and sexual deviance Stay away from her, shes a real snake oil girl jezebel jade trollop vamp wench

 

Steve Earle Snake Oil Lyrics

 

Ladies and gentlemen, attention please
Come in close so everyone can see
I got a tale to tell
A listen don’t cost a dime
And if you believe that we’re gonna get along just fineNow I’ve been travelin’ all around
I heard trouble’s come to your town
Well I’ve got a little somethin’
Guaranteed to ease your mind
It’s call Snake Oil y’all
It’s been around for a long, long time

Say, your crops’ll burn if it don’t rain soon
Ain’t seen a drop since the tenth of June
Well I can open up the sky
People never fear
If you ain’t impressed yet, just tell me what you wanna hear

Well you lost your farm so you moved to town
You get a job, they shut the factory down
Now you sit around all day long feelin’ sad and blue
You need Snake Oil y’all, tell you what I’m gonna do

I can heal the sick, I can mend the lame
And the blind shall see again, it’s all the same

Well ain’t your President good to you
Knocked ’em dead in Libya, Grenada too
Now he’s taking his show a little further down the line
Well, ‘tween me and him people, you’re gonna get along just fine 

 

Those of you that have known me for more than a few month know my abiding interest in ‘Alternative Medicine’ .  My family has come to love and accept that part of me, so much so, that they will choose my herbals over prescription medications for pain relief.  My brother Matt, has taken to calling my Bay Leaf Massage Oil ‘Snake Oil’.  Bay Leaf Oil is good for so much more than sore muscles, it kicks migraines right out of my head, soothes allergies, and you can use it (from a seperate bottle of course) to braise a beef roast before popping it in the Crock=Pot to simmer all day.

Both my Mum and brother Matt ask for that oil frequently, and when I say I can make them up a small bottle to use when they need it, they both say, “It only works when you do it!”

I also keep a tiny spray bottle of Bay Leaf oil handy for our cats, I use that instead of a poison treatment for ear mites.  It washes all of the ear mites out of their ears, and it isn’t dangerous to the cats’ health, in fact, it helps them pass hairballs easily.

Another way to use the bay leaf oil is to soak it into the wood of cupboards and drawers, bay leaf oil is an amazing insect repellant, and is safe for food, kids and pets.

 Mum, in particular, appreciates it enough to spring for the oil and herbs to make my different oils.  She especially appreciates the Sage Oil I make for her psoriasis, and the Arthritis Oil of Bay Leaf and Chillie Peppers.

 The marvellous thing about these herbals is how easy they are to make and use.  All you do is take a quart bottle of extra-virgin olive oil, add 12-18 large Bay Leaves (Laurus nobilis), and sit the jar or bottle on a sunny windowsill for 4-6 weeks.  Be sure to label the bottle without covering up the sides.  It is safest to use both the common and scientific name when labelling herbals; the common name may change from region to region, but the scientific name remains the same all over the world.

 

And Another Blitz Poem

Trees In Belt

 

Researching my family tree

Researching the Norse World Tree

Trees in bloom

Trees in the wind

Wind in my hair

Wind in the wires

Wires in the wall

Wires on the poles

Poles have shifted before

Poles immigrated to America

America the Beautiful

America, Land of the Brave

Brave Pioneers

Brave New World

World in Black and White

World without end

End of the book

End of the line

Line on paper

Line in the sand

Sand between my toes

Sand on the beach

Beach at the ocean

Beach the boats

Boats bobbing on the waves

Boats tied at anchor

Anchor the poster to the wall

Anchored in the real world

World of Warcraft game

World of magic

Magic act

Magic both High and Low

Low prices for one week only

Low-pressure front is stalled

Stalled the lawn mower

Stalled at the starting line

Line of descent

Line forms here

Here is my house

Here is the victim

Victim of circumstance

Victim of the times

Times are changing

Times are listed below

Below the waterline

Below the belt

Belt out the tune

Belt of rotgut

Rotgut

Tune

Guess What…No Really- Guess!

Comic From: nataliedee.com

If you have kids or have to spend any amount of time around them  then you know that nothing can chill the blood faster than hearing your kid respond to the question, ” what are you doing ” with the reply 

” Nothing. ” 

You just know that when you open the door or walk into the room or turn around and look down it’s not going to be good. 

Personally, I could never figure out using ” nothing ” as an excuse- at the most it’ll buy you a few seconds, I mean if you are going to run it probably more than enough time to make a get away. 

Myself, when I was interrupted mid-stunt by my Mom or Grandmother and they asked me what was I doing- I never said ” Nothing.” 

I’d say ” Guess. ” 

And then I would hear, ” don’t give me any lip, answer me.” 

Then I’d hear the footsteps headed up the stairs to my room and then I’d yell down, ” No really just guess.” 

And then when the door would open and my Mom would stand there  and look at me like- well, all these years later I still can’t describe that look. 

” It would have been better if you had guessed first” I said with as much wisdom as a nine year old who could muster. 

Once and only once  my Grandma would ask me why it would have been better  if she had taken that guess and I told her ” because it makes it funnier.” 

” Do you think worrying people like that is funny?” 

I didn’t answer, I’d just look up at the ceiling and shook my head. 

” What are you looking at?” 

” Guess. ” I told her. 

” Do  you know what happens to smart aleck kids like you?” she asked. 

” Want me to guess?” 

I remember falling on the refinished floor in this fit of hysterical laughter and when Grandma restricted me for the next three days for smarting off I spent those three days in my room drawing on the newly  re-finished hardwood floor under my bed with my Dad’s model airplane paint. 

They found my artwork about a week later. 

 No one asked me why I had done that- they just carpeted the floor and locked up the model paint and instead of asking me what I was doing my parents and Grandparents took to telling me, ” I have eyes on the back of my head, so don’t even think about pulling anything.” 

 But of course I kept right on pulling things- in fact I out did myself for awhile because guess what- they did not have eyes on the backs of their heads.

I checked. 

Guess you weren’t surprised to hear I did that, were you?

Taphonomy Becomes You

Inspired by the

SFC

prompt

Tribal Daughter Dancing

 

I hear this  A LOT :

” Anita You could be pretty- if you tried “

So I have tried.

I’ve done the hair thing, the makeup thing the manicure thing, the diet thing

It is not a pleasant experience

I won’t kid you.

I would LOVE to be skinny, I would love to be acceptable, presentable and easy on the eyes.

Being  an offense to Nature and the delicate sensibilities of my fellow human beings is not something I take any joy from- it makes me feel mean and out-lawish.

I used to be a Girl Scout who did the crafts and cookie thing  until I got kicked out by our leader’s daughter because I forgot to bring donuts on treat day.  My point is, I don’t think I was originally wired to be vicious.

Rest assured, I  have not ruled paper bags out of my immediate future or my wardrobe. I wonder, would they count as one of the ‘accessories’ that might ‘help’ me?

 

I figure that about a year after I am dead I will look exactly right- I will be thin, my hair will be perfect, and at last my smile, which I have been instructed to WORK ON because it ” helps”  ( it helps- in case you are curious to distract the eye from the train wreck above my neck).

  I don’t need to point this out but I’m going to anyway- my smile will be perfect, mostly because it will have been stapled and glued into place- but none the less it will be there.

Best of all, after I am dressed – and I guess it will be the right dress that flatters me the best because someone else will have chosen it-  My makeover will be complete, I will at long last fit into the world of beautiful people.

I can hardly wait.

And Here It Is…

It’s the end of the week and what have I accomplished?

Well.

I wrote.

And I had fun doing it.

Was it meaningful work? Did I make a statement? Will  writers read it and say,

” Wow is she good- darn her to the bargain book table”?

Nope.

In fact, most of what I did amounted to writing on a bathroom wall  with a glitter pen that smells like strawberries,

So by my own standards I accomplished a lot.

Let’s hear it for me!

So I’m working on some short stories- and in one story I killed off a character that I liked.

Believe it or not- I felt guilty.
I’m pretty sure that is not normal.

Why is that you may wonder?

Well.

Because I liked doing it.

So there it is, that was my week in writing.

I’m not sure what next weeks boodle of words will amount to

but as long as it is an amusing boodle

I think it will amount to a lot.

Where Have You Been Hubert Mead?

This little story was based on a writing prompt called:

Where Have You Been

You were supposed to include the words Yellow, Iris, Quote and Joke in your story-

 I came up with a little something about a Spree Killer and Brain Eating Aliens…

enjoy!

 

Where have you been Hubert Mead?

The plants in your window boxes are all dead, there are newspapers turning to gray piles of mush on your porch and the yellow curtains that your cleaning lady hung in your kitchen last winter stuck to the panes of glass during the last rain storm we had and they’ve dried there.

That was months and months ago.

Where have you been Hubert Mead?

Have you heard about Iris Franks? You must have. Everyone with a TV set or a computer on the face of the Earth has heard about Iris Franks from down the street.

She thought Aliens from outer space were infesting- that was the exact quote that the news people keep repeating-  “Aliens are infesting- people’s brains.”

She decided to take them out herself-being that nobody else was doing anything to solve this problem.

She used chemicals to do it.

Nobody knows about that particular detail except for us here in the neighborhood.

The reason the Police aren’t giving details to the press because they don’t know what kinds of chemicals she used. No one can figure it out, it’s something new. Iris can’t even cook, let alone invent a new chemical that no one has ever seen before.

Don’t look at me like that Hubert Mead, I’m not joking. Iris Franks killed fifteen people with something that eats bone, leaves the skin intact and smells like cinnamon.

There’s all this speculation if she’s going to go for the Insanity Defense, but I don’t think so. Brenda Paine saw her at the jail and Brenda says Iris is the same Iris that she’s always been. She just believes that Aliens are nesting in people’s brains now. Except for that one thing Iris is just as sane as you or me.

Let me be honest with you  Hubert Mead.

I really do not want  to have conversations about  Aliens from outer space infesting brains or women who cook up bone eating acids in their bathtubs. Do you know what other topic I’d like t avoid?

I’d like to avoid having to share with anyone that you disappeared the day after Iris took her first victim out and that you showed up right after she was safely locked away from her bathtub full of bone eating acid that  she used to get to those Brain eating aliens.

And it can stay that way, providing of course nothing starts to crawl around in my head- besides,  if anything were to do that it would be in for a very nasty surprise, yes indeed a very nasty surprise.

Don’t look so shifty eyed Hubert Mead.

We’ve been neighbors for a very long time; do you really think I’m the type of person to not pay attention to what is happening on her own street let alone in her own little corner of the galaxy?

Where have you been Hubert Mead?

June 17, 2010

Today Is

International

Learn To A Song That Will Drive Everyone Around You Crazy Day

Remember

Today only comes once a year

but singing annoying songs

( for that extra festive touch sing them off-key)

 will make a day like today feel like it’s going to last forever

Visiting Lemuria

https://101nights.wordpress.com/2010/06/13/ancestral-link-to-lemuria/

(Posted by Suzanne)

The wonderful thing about Lemuria is that you don’t need a Passport to get there.

Today I applied for my Australian Passport.  Just getting the Application form approved has taken weeks.

The first issue was the fact that I have changed my name.  “You need a paper trail to explain it,” a woman at the Post Office said.  I spent time and money getting copies of my original Birth Certificate, Marriage Certificate, Change of  Name Certificate and amended Birth Certificate.

“You must get authorised photocopies of these,” said a different woman at the Post Office.  I took photocopies and got them verified at the Police Station.

I got my photo taken (at the Post Office).  “You must get someone who votes, has known you for more than a year but is not a relative and who has lived in the same house for more than a year to sign the form saying that this is a true photo of you,” said yet another woman at the Post Office.  Figuring out who met the criteria and would be willing to sign such an officious form took a few days.  Explaining the form to her took ages.  The question demanding to know the exact number of years and months she had known me  had us both wandering down memory and counting on our fingers.  After a fit of  giggles my friend signed the form and I took it to the Post Office.  I also  took $208 to pay for the actual Passport.

“You have cut the photos too small,” said a woman at the Post Office (it was the one who’d demanded the paper trail but she didn’t remember me).  “You don’t need all these documents,” she said.  “The Change of Name Certificate and the amended Birth Certificate are enough.  You need to fill out the form again.”

I filled out the form again and got my friend to sign it again.  I took it to the Post Office this morning.

“These photocopies are not required,” said a woman at the Post Office that I’d never seen before.  “We take our own here and authorize them ourselves.”  She did that but had trouble understanding the Change of Name Certificate.  She pondered it for a good ten minutes before accepting it.  Even more worrying to her was the fact that I had once had a Passport in the 1970s.  I misplaced it when it expired and do not recall the exact date on which it was issued.

Eventually she stamped the Application Form but I could tell she wasn’t very happy about it.  I paid the $208 and left  completely unsure as to whether I will get a Passport anyway because I can’t recall a date in the 1970s.

The idea of travelling overseas has lost some its appeal.  I think I’ll travel to Lemuria instead.  All I need is my imagination and my new computer.

During the time I was off line I read a lot of novels.  In a fantasy novel I came across the idea that  fairyland and ancient mystic sites have been desecrated with car parks, housing estates, MacDonald’s and the  like.  As a result the supernatural beings that inhabited them have  left the physical plane and gone to  live on the Internet.  Many, I’m sure, have taken up residence in Lemuria.  I think it’s time I paid them a visit.  I have a feeling they’ll  respond to me for who I am regardless of name changes and the fact I’ve never been good with dates.

Its True You Know

 

The reason I write

-every single day-

is that this is how I keep the monsters away.

Laugh if you will

but they haven’t gotten me yet.

a.m.m.

A Personal Choice

The recent post about being swept under by a range of emotions has prompted me to remind people of the value of Women Who Run With The Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. This is a book that is on a shelf near my bed. My copy is showing the signs of being much loved and much read.

Women Who Run With The Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. Another work by Estes, Warming the Stone Child, is well worth considering as well.

Personally I found that Estes led me to Jung and to a study of many of the stories that shape our lives. Baba Yaga is one that keeps appearing. There is a fascinating path to follow, with journal in hand to record the thoughts and feelings that rise up to confront one.