Remember, “Friday’s Finding Your Funny” is dedicated to good, clean fun! Know someone whom you would like to nominate? Submit the nomination in the “Contact Me” section of my blog including a link to the material.
This week’s “Friday’s Finding Your Funny”, begins by taking us way back to 1961 when the Marvelettes released “Please Mr. Postman”.
Don’t you just love their name? I’m thinking I’m going to make myself an honorary member. Don’t worry. It’s not an exclusive club; you too can be a Marvelette! We could call ourselves the “Marvelous Marvelettes”. I see us in embroidered capes, maybe with just our initials “M M”, kind of like the giant, cursive “L” on Laverne’s shirts she wore every episode of Laverne & Shirley. I heard Laverne was left with no choice after Shirley kept taking all her clothes. Hey, if you had a roommate trying to take YOUR clothes, you’d make sure they were all monogrammed too. Actually, Shirley was such a “do-gooder” she probably kept trying to donate all of Laverne’s clothes to charity!
We could come up with our own theme song, shameel shamazel. Oh wait, that’s been taken! I guess we can keep “Please Mr. Postman” as our theme song, and jazz it up with a doo wop here and there. Oh yeah, and we wouldn’t be this desperate. (I’m just saying.) For your listening pleasure, here is “Please Mr. Postman”.
Recently, Sam and I went on a unique type of scavenger hunt. It was highly entertaining, probably because we are easily amused! What treasures did we find? I’ll let them speak for themselves.
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
It’s about time you sent your thank-you notes. If I had a foot, it would have been tapping! Back when my great, great grand daddy ran the chuck wagon, those cowpoke appreciated his cooking efforts. First, you gobbled up all the beans I left in the bowl without so much as a hand wave my way. Next, I got a call from my neighbor down yonder that their mail smelled worse than if a skunk had sprayed it. They told me never to feed you them fixins again! Then, it took you ‘nigh six months to drop me a note saying thank you. That’ll be the last time you get a free lunch out of me!
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
Actually, I don’t want a letter. Can somebody PLEASE send me some flowers? This is getting rather embarrassing. People are driving by and laughing, calling me a phony. I’m sick of this! I’ll even settle for some “Get Well” flowers. FTD to the rescue please.
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
I’ve had to endure so much humiliation standing out here waiting. It’s bad enough people call me names like “pig” as they zip on by. Now, my people have posted for all the drivers-by to see they think I’m a loser, a big, fat ZERO! They don’t even care about me. Look at how weathered I am from sitting out here day and night waiting. I’m getting dehydrated from baking in the sun. Hang on a minute! I’ve heard about cured ham. Hmmm. Hmmm. That’s a little concerning. Keep that road salt far, far away from me. This little piggy is not going to the market.
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
OK. So, maybe I’m sitting. At least I’m smiling. Then again, who wouldn’t be? I keep getting these love letters in the mail from my woman. She thinks my tractor’s sexy. How can I frown at that? She’s even kinda crazy about my farmer’s tan. You know you got a good woman when she doesn’t mind that! We’re going to go see Kenny Chesney together. My woman wants to ride in a Deere. Ain’t she a dear?
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
Why are there NEVER any letters for me? All I ever get are magazines. I’m getting no love what-so-ever! Flames are HOT I tell you! Now if only the ladies would love Hot Wheels as much as I do. Dag nab it … that Mr. Farmer is stealing all the ladies. I think I need to send a letter to Mr. Chesney. I’ll ask him to write a song about how the ladies love ‘em some hot wheels. That’ll change Mr. Farmer’s tune!
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
My tail’s getting tired from flicking all the flies. I’m Rusty, by the way. I’ve been waiting to get word from my friend Silver. He’s white. I know. It makes no sense, what-so-ever. The poor guy has a complex. He pretty much doesn’t know if he’s coming or going. When you don’t know who you are, it just messes you up! You know how that goes. That’s why I’m glad I know exactly who I am. I am Rusty. I may not move as fast as I used to, but I’ll stick my neck out for you … especially if you have some carrots.
(The people writing this think it would be very funny if you drove on by and put a bunch of carrots in my mouth. Field trip anyone?)
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
David Cassidy left me stranded here in Podunk USA while he’s out gallivanting in that stupid Partridge Family Bus. He doesn’t even honk when he passes by. Even Danny doesn’t write me anymore! He used to be such a sweet kid. What happened to him? I can’t be mad; let’s keep the peace. I can’t help it … I think I love you. Anyhow.
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
No one ever comes to visit me. You, Mr. Postman, drive by so fast you make my blade spin! You must not realize how famous I am. You’ve never asked for my autograph. They made a movie about me, don’t ya know? It was a scream! I had to relocate to Wisconsin because I got a bad reputation in Texas. Why don’t you stop on by for dinner some time? I’d love to ketch-up with you.
(As a side bar. Seriously? Who has a mailbox like this? Creepy! That movie STILL freaks me out. I can’t even put a link to the pics. Eeeeek – Texas Chainsaw Massacre – Eeeeek)
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
While I’m waiting so patiently, let me ask you a question. Have you ever heard of mirroring? It’s where someone gives an expression and then someone mirrors that expression back. I’m full of reflections, so I thought we might play a little game. I’ll smile. Your turn. You smile too. Bigger. Bigger. OK. I’ll raise my eyebrows. Now, your turn. You raise yours too. Higher. Higher. I wanna see wrinkles on your foreheads people! Great! See my goatee? Pretend you have one. Oh, come on. Play along as you stroke your imaginary goatee. Sometimes it’s just fun to be silly! (No one’s watching. Unless you’re in a public place reading this. Then, you look a little ridiculous!)
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
I’m like Motel 6 – I’ve even left my light on, but you haven’t delivered! And I’m waaaay more classy than Motel 6! Where is my letter? I am NOT pretentious. No I am not. I do TOO have friends. I just haven’t heard from them in awhile. What’s the big deal? You’re mad about THAT? Really? My yacht IS bigger than your yacht. Get over it!
Is there a letter for me? I’ve been standing here waiting, Mr. Postman, so patiently.
I know. I know. I’m all washed up. I used to be filled to the gills with giddiness. Now look at me. I guess I should be happy that someone hasn’t tried to flush me down the tank yet. But would you be happy if your mouth was wide open? This is starting to get down-right painful. It all started when that dastardly dude stuck his hand in my mouth to dislodge the hook. I’m grateful about that, but he should have just thrown me back in the water. Now I’m mounted like a redneck trophy on a banged up box. I’m like a fish out of water here.
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Can you believe these mailboxes had so much to say? It really was fun driving around looking for outrageous or whimsical mailboxes. There’s still something fishy about that last photo. Check it out. Look all the way to the right of the pic. The homeowner was sitting outside in her front yard as we pulled into her driveway, snapped a few photos, and cracked up laughing curious as to what she must have thought as we sped out of her driveway! I’m wondering if sometime in the near future we will drive by and see Mr. Fishy has disappeared and been replaced by a mailbox of a different sort. I’m DEFINITELY not pulling in the driveway to get a pic of this one!
Have you ever went on a scavenger hunt as a grown up?
What’s stopping you? Go have some fun and send me some pics from your adventures!