A Bit About Me

My photo
Along with my daily duties as founder and head writer of HumorMeOnline.com, in 2003, I took the Grand Prize in the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest (also known as the "It Was a Dark and Stormy Night" competition). I've also been a contributor to "The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson" and the web's "The Late Show with David Letterman". I also occupy my time writing three blogs, "Blogged Down at the Moment", "Brit Word of the Day" and "Production Numbers"...and my off-time is spent contemplating in an "on again/off again" fashion...my feable attempts at writing any one of a dozen books. I would love to write professionally one day...and by that I mean "actually get a paycheck".

04 June 2011

Spooning It On a Little Thick

Behold the wonder that is the miraculous "multi-purpose" spoon:

Sure, it might look like an ordinary spoon to the common eye...but I sensed something was a bit special about this run-of-the-mill plastic beauty which made it anything but...run-of-the-mill.

But first, a little tie-in...

We went to the Georgia Aquarium the other day, which is a very nice aquarium; altho, for some reason I keep thinking the Baltimore Aquarium was nicer. But as we were strolling around from one exhibit to the other "Tropical Waters", "River Dwellers", "Cold Water Creatures", etc., we stopped for a drink in their cafeteria. And that's where I first spotted "it".

My first clue "it" was indeed going to be nothing like I had ever laid my eyes upon before -- was the labeling of the implement holders themselves. Keep in mind this place had a Starbucks...so it was pretty swanky, ya know. I say this for you doubters out there who think I might be exaggerating a bit or making this stuff up. I'm not.

The implement bins were labeled "Forks", "Knives" and, one would probably automatically think "Spoons" or even "Sporks" given their sheltered existence and the mere fact they couldn't point out an oyster fork from a bone marrow spoon even if their measly little pathetic lives depended upon it. The Georgia Aquarium holds balls...actual formal "Cinderella"-type ones...so these people aren't in the least uncivilized or uncultured.

Nay, spoons and sporks were not to be had at a place as grand as this. This place had "multi-purpose" spoons.

I absolutely kid you not. I checked on the Internet when I got home - and sure enough, they are indeed "multi-purpose". Of course, at the time, I was just in amazement as I reached to touch the magical "push down -- receive a dining implement of your choice" machine. Typically, I've only ever seen these reserved for usage of straws alone...so again, you can tell we aren't dealing with any old "reach on in and touch all the spoons with your grimy unwashed 'sea urchin/sting ray petting' fingers before you come to the one which tweaks your fancy" open bin holder.

This was an elegant establishment...there were no plain-Jane white plastic "silverware" to be had anywhere here. Black will always be the topmost when it comes to designer kitchens and couture dresses and such...after all, they wouldn't say "Beige is the 'New Black'" if it wasn't, right? Having the wherewithal to stick to this shocking and avant garde principle at the Aquarium -- they're proclaiming that "black is not only the new black...but the ONLY black" when it comes to your fine plastic dining pleasure.

So, when I wrapped my eager fingers around my onyx beauty...I knew I was in possession of something truly novel. It had to be...and the 'black on white laminated printed sticky label' they use to differentiate the various culinary items there certainly wouldn't mislead me.

I sat down, virtually mesmerized by my new acquisition. I gazed at it from all angles like Keanu Reeves did with his spoon in "The Matrix". Only there WAS a spoon...I knew it...and I had it.

I set about trying to fathom all the wondrous things this "Swiss Army Knife of Spoons" must be capable of doing. It didn't take me long to come up with a few.

-- You can use it as an actual spoon.

-- You can use the bowl to measure liquid things which are inside it.

-- You can use the bowl to measure dry things which are inside it.

-- You can put it upright and measure how many "spoons high" something is.

-- You can use it as a knife if you have very, very soft foods you really need to cut.

-- You could poke something with the remotely pointy end of it.

-- If I would have taken two...I probably would have been able to "play spoons" with it. Oh, the wondrous magical noises they would have generated, too. I'm smacking myself in the head (of course using my "multi-purpose" spoon to do so) for not getting a second spoon to find out how sublime the harmonics on these babies woulda been.

-- You can form nice dents in soft foods and things like Pla-Doh with it.

-- You can use it as a fork if you already have a fork which you then use to transfer what you just picked up with that fork...onto the bowl of the spoon.

-- You can use it to fling things at people - like a very tiny plastic trebuchet.

-- You can stir things with it - using either side. It's remarkable really when you think of it. You can also stir things with it using either end.

The possibilities are virtually almost limitless.

Eventually I had to put my spoon away and get up to see some stupid "Garden Eels" which hovered partway outside their holes until they sensed danger and then retreated back inside them...only to pop back out...and do it all again...a never ending display reminiscent of that "Whack-a-Mole" game. Then just a few displays over were some type of fish, which, when building their nests, would suck up a bunch of sand and shell debris into their mouths and then deposit it outside their little love abodes...making everything look as inviting as they could to capture the attention of the ├╝ber-choosey lady fishes.

I smirked my little smirk as I saw them continually gather and spit, gather and spit, gather and spit...knowing full well if one of them could be trained on the usage of what I now held in my purse...the "multi-purpose" spoon...it would move that whole evolutionary business up a notch or two on some type of hierarchy food pyramid. Heaven knows, if it could catch on, what those animals might possibly come up with by the time I visited again.

But for now...nature as we know and like it...is safe. I have my "multi-purpose" spoon and good things are going to be coming my way now...I can feel them. And when they get here, I'll be prepared.

Perhaps I have finally found my one true purpose in life? I might be destined for even greater purposes...as I now can handle multi-purpose things...presumably well beyond the scope of others.

Yeah...I think I'm going to like having a multi-purpose in life.


  1. Yeah, I don't get it. So they're spoons. That's pretty much the same reaction I have when I see a nekkid butt on TV. Big deal, it's a butt...get over it. Had they been boobs...well then, that's different.

  2. I bet two of these spoons could cover up tiny little boobies...like a tiny little booby bra. There's another multi-purpose for them. See? I told you the list is almost virtually endless. :)

  3. gotta love the multiple uses of the spoon.

  4. One has to wonder...what DID Brian Kelly say...hmmmm...

    Meleah...you know it. I'd venture to say this is much more than just an ordinary spoon, tho.

  5. LOL...will wonders never cease?? Let's start re-labeling everything shall we? I shall start re-labeling at work tomorrow night

    BTW, I am having trouble logging in to your "Brit Word of the Day" blog, but I have read it and wanted to comment

    Glad to have you back

  6. Spoons can also be used as nose decoration, but you knew that.

    Pretty funny stuff...maybe you can open the world's first (I hope) Spoon Museum.

  7. The Tick: SPOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  8. Mariann knocked gingerly on the door. It was the Soul Brudder Sub-Committee Meeting, Section 5, Subsection E, Cutting White People Slack Permit, to be precise. Hearing no answer, she knocked again, a little more firmly. A baritone voice inside growled, "What it is?"

    Mariann responded, "Everythang is everythang!"

    She nervously adjusted the Salem Menthol 100's in the corner of her mouth, hoping it would bob at the right angle, and wondered which handshake she would have to remember. Being a White Woman, the hum and blur of the various Soul Shakes were quite confusing. Slap, dap, clench, or Clench, dap, swing? Open hand, or closed fist? Vertical, or horizontal? So confusing!

    From inside, she heard, "It's Blondie! Well, well, well!"

    Someone else said, "If she brought some quiche, throw her butt down the stairs!"

    The first voice replied, "We on the first floor! How the hell we gonna throw her down the stairs?"

    He answered, "Walk her up three flights, then throw her down, dummy!"

    Marianne dug quickly in her purse and pulled out a lighter, remembering that holding a lighter would only require Dap # 17, Double Fist Bump. Putting an edge to her voice, along with a slight Ethnic Accent #2, (White Girl Who Hang With Black People On An Occasional Basis), but not quite #3, (Hood Rat In Training), she spoke up, "Hey! The 40s' gettin' hot! Hurry up and open this damn door!"

    The door swung open, and Marianne tilted her head to the side #17-style, (Aggravated Sista Bout To Bust A Cap), then her eyes opened wide in surprise as she recognized the Soul Brudder....

    "Mary, Mary, quite contrary! Have you any wool?" She breathed a sigh of relief. It was her neighbor, Tyrone Johnson.......

  9. "...That's Baa Baa, Black Sheep, you nitwit," she said, keeping the edge in her voice.

    She really wanted to giggle, but she had been warned: "No quiche, and Lawd, PLEASE, no giggling!" Tyrone was insistent. "White woman giggling's like bringing Kryptonite to a Superman festival," he had said, swirling his white wine cooler nervously.

    His life partner, Thomas, agreed. "Girl, look, them dudes be TRIP-pin," he said, throwing his microbraids back. "Me, I be sittin' there, tryin' to maintain, but they be all in-TENSE an' stuff. If it was up to me," he looked @ Tyrone and rolled his eyes, "I be done joined some other group, but noooo, Mister Johnson here, Mister Man, Mister Macho--"

    "If I slap you, I don't wanna hear it!"

    "Who you gonna slap? Who?"

    Mariann smiled. They often went at it like this, but it never meant anything. She reached in the ice chest for another cold Colt .45, Billy Dee Williams style--


    "Oh, my," Marianne said, too scared to look up. It didn't matter who had slapped who (or was it whom?), there was no good ending to this....

  10. ....hearing a muffled snort, Mariann looked up. To her surprise, Tyrone was hiding a big grin, and Thomas started to laugh.
    "Wh-what hap-?" Mariann began, but Thomas held up a hand.

    "Stop, girl," he said, waggling his fingers, "Stop, and take a LOOK at yo-self! You look so CRAZY!"

    Mariann still looked puzzled, until Tyrone smacked his hands together.


    "Oh," Mariann said. "Do I look as foolish as I feel?"

    "Twice," they said in unison.

    "Look girlfriend," Tyrone began, but a look from Thomas stopped him.

    "I done TOLD you 'bout that GIRL-friend bitness. NObody say 'girl-friend no mo'. Stop that."

    "Uh, ex-CUUSE me, Mister Miriam-Webster DictioNARY, aint nobody asked you nothing, now did they?" Thomas was getting hot. "I was talkin' to my FRIEND, not YOU!"

    Mariann wiped what was either sweat or spittle off of her forehead. Thomas had a bad habit of letting loose with his "t's" and "p's", and whenever Tyrone worked his nerves it could get humid, in more ways than one.

    "Um...fellas....um, you know, I REALLY hate it when you, uh...uh..."she trailed off lamely

    "What?" they said in unison.

    "Nothing," she answered, hoping somebody would ring the door.

    "BBRRRRIIINNNNGGGGG!!!" the phone rang.

    "Whatever," she muttered.

    "We aint through with this, heifer," Thomas said, answering the phone, "No, not YOU, Momma, I'm talking to Mary....which mary?...White Mary, you know, the one who makes the quiche....uh-huh.....STOP, it aint THAT bad." He shrugged, and mouthed an 'I told you' to Mariann.

    "See?" Tyrone said. "Stop making that stuff. You gonna fool around and KILL somebody--"

    "HUSH! Don't you see I'm talkin' on the PHONE? Not YOU, Momma, these fools keep interuptin'-"

    "Who you callin' fool, FOOL?" Marianne had wanted to say that for years, and now seemed like a perfect time...

  11. Okay, Miz Mary, I quit. Just want to say that I have read your stuff in the Montgomery DA, really enjoy it. I'm in the process of building my own blog, I'm starting to see how it's done, and I thank you for the classroom experience.