... from Sybil Bruncheon's "MY MERRY MEMOIRS"... chapter 89...

Telephone Booth SYBIL (312B).jpg

My wonderful old brick mansion in Somerset... well, ... until, right after that stock market "correction". Then I ended up living in that telephone booth... but it DID have a fireplace, a wine cellar, a dumbwaiter, and a guest bath, and that made it all much nicer. I DID have to let go of three of the servants though.

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

Your Spring Fashion Advice from the Great COCO CHANEL... (part 1)

Coco Chanel Crab Hat.jpg

"Put everything on, and then take ONE thing off!"

......or was it, "Put several things on, and then go to the refrigerator and put some more things on from the vegetable crisper!"

......or "Put something Chinese on… and then put on more things from column A, but refrain from the lychees!"

.....or was it, "Put on one appetizer, and one entree, add a garnish, and make your pepper mill into a brooch!"

....or was it "Dress only in sauces and condiments, and then add a Parker House roll and two butter pats strategically placed!"

....or "Go next door, borrow a cup of sugar, go back home and binge-watch the Food Network for two days straight!"

....or maybe "Eat your jewelry, eat your cashmere, eat your fine leather goods, and get an aquarium to let your hats swim in!"...

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

More Spring Fashion Advice from the Great COCO CHANEL:

Coco Chanel (775) AND (776).jpg

"Put everything on, and then take ONE thing off!"

... or was it, "Put several things on, and then put on some more!"

... or "Put one thing on, and then go next door and steal some more things!"

... or was it, "Put everything on, take everything off, and make a martini! THEN go next door and steal EVERYTHING!"

... or "Go next door, SHOOT the neighbors, drink THEIR martinis, THEN steal everything... but put one thing back!... and leave a thank-you note"

... or... was it…

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

... from Sybil Bruncheon's "MY MERRY MEMOIRS"... chapter 312...

Dagmar APACHE PARIS (312A).jpg

People asked if I was alarmed when my identical twin sister Dagmar had run away to Paris with a circus of gypsies and miscreants. I wasn't, and I wasn't all that concerned when she first told me she was learning to do "apache dancing". You see she pronounced it "ah-patch-ee", so I actually thought that she was going to be in little dance sketches about an early settler-woman in the Wild West being captured by Indians and forced into all sorts of terrible mischief involving, scalping, sexual molestation, fire, and perhaps even some ventriloquism. Imagine my disappointment on opening night seeing her only roughed up a little by some Parisian hoodlum in an alleyway. So I went backstage afterwards and spoke to her partner Monsieur Garrabot. I even paid him to hit her harder! He DID!.....ah, good times... good times.

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

...concerning Facebook FRIEND REQUESTS (part 1)...


Hey, Folks! Are you getting strange FB friend requests from people who have NO friends in common with you?...I'm NOT just talking about the ones from foreign places whose names are exotic and hard to pronounce. I actually PREFER more non-traditional people and places. I'm talking about their FB pages listing all sorts of odd hobbies, food preferences, police records, and personal-hygiene interests. Here are a few that I just HAD to refuse...politely, of course, because, after all, I AM Sybil Bruncheon!...

1) Hymen Cooper - lives in Bangor, ME. Collects lint, hairbrush refuse, dust-bunnies, and used gum. Practices ventriloquism with vegetables at his fresh produce stand. Is a rare Aries-born-on-the-cusp-of-Libra....very rare!
2) Mustafa Jones - ex-smoker/pyromaniac. Collects Joan of Arc memorabilia. Likes melted Reese’s Peanut Butter cups…
3) Phil Phillips - cactus gardener who specializes in pure-vegan acupuncture. "I guarantee smoother skin and massive weight-loss for anyone visiting my all-nude rock-garden!...especially in the middle of the night!"
4) đười ươi điên - friendly and deeply spiritual Presbyterian/Hoosier by way of Ho Chi Minh City. "I like basketball, popcorn, and planning a really bang-up Revelations welcome for the return of the Messiah! Party-ON!!!"
5) Kay Branson - plus-size lady-taxidermist specializing in beetles and the high-end jewelry they can be made into for older Jewish ladies in Boca Raton..."MY HOMETOWN!"
6) Yenid Glanque - cafeteria worker in the Myrtle Township Elementary School for Mildly Gifted Children. "Adept at perfectly portioned servings of mass-produced side dishes using a standard ladle and my remaining eye."
7) Pete Thwistle - Gas station attendant providing HANDS-ON service! "None o'that behind the glass booth sh*t. I come out and wipe yer shield, check yer oil 'n' water, kick yer tires, and pinch yer bottom if you get out to stretch yer legs.... oh, and I'll say hi to yer lady-friend too!"...
8) Malcolm "Pinky" Perkins - filatelist/fellatelist with talented tongue and NO gag-reflex! Loves getting into sticky situations with like-minded Christian couples. Still dreaming of finding a mint-unused Javanese upside down biplane 3 cent!..or a Treskilling Yellow stamp (1855).
9) Piszkálni A. Fenékben - former pastry chef in a llama petting zoo. Soon to be laid off for causing near-fatal diabetes in luxury-wool-producing mammals by the Peruvian government. Currently on the run, but will check in occasionally for AirBnBeaners... "HELP! I make great donuts!"
10) Lincoln Steffers - snake-handler and faith-healer. Has own tent and heating pad. Lives in Central Park near the boat house! Romantic weekends a GUARANTEE! 

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

... From Sybil Bruncheon's "SOME LIKE IT HAUTE!"... chapter 28...

Dovima HAUTE Phone.jpg

Did I ever tell you of my on-again/off-again friendship with Dovima, the famous fashion model/muse of Richard Avedon? Well, she was the epitome of stark and icy cold glamour that ruled the ladies' magazines of the post-war era. She was relentless in her discipline, her pursuit of excellence, and her willpower to maintain a 19" waistline... so much so that finally, cinched into those gorgeous "New Look" Dior dresses, she could no longer sit down, lie down, or even walk to the telephone. Everything had to be brought to her, including her meals, all of which she drank through a straw. She even slept standing up. This photo is of her propped into her special board-bed on a Sunday morning... waiting for her asparagus and melon milkshake... and her weekly telephone call from St. Patrick's so she could listen to morning Mass.

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

Sybil Bruncheon's "Your Gay Credentials"!!... Quiz #453...

Gay Quiz WOMEN #2 Collage.jpg

Yes, folks, many people today think they are adequately gay, but let's be honest, in these days of self-indulgent, entitled, babbling millennials who know nearly nothing about their heritage or culture, can anyone really be GAY ENOUGH? In an attempt to correct some of this cultural bankruptcy and general ignorance, we have created a quiz which allows YOU to know exactly!... ARE YOU GAY ENOUGH? 

Take a close look at these photos; it's not enough to know they are scenes from THE WOMEN (1939) with its star-studded cast. Your gay credentials will be "in order" if you can correctly match the right scenario to the correct photo.

a) Having had no luck with men, Mary decides to introduce her daughter to a lesbian lifestyle by raiding daddy’s closet, his imported tobacco cabinet, and his collection of French post cards. She also decides that her daughter’s “little mustache problem” might be kind of attractive after all… 

b) Mary’s mother has offered to crochet her a perfectly lovely gown for the junior prom… sadly, it’s very time consuming, and Mary is now 47 years old… 

c) The famous “Night of The Undead Socialites” scene in which wealthy and bored housewives are lured away from bridge luncheons and flower arranging classes to a hideous existence as zombies… though very physically fit ones. 

d) The Countess acknowledges that yes, they HAVE just hit an iceberg, “but there’s always time for just one more little drinky-winky!”… 

e) While trying on expensive gowns, Mary and Sylvia show the sales lady “that M&Ms melt in your mouth! Not in your hands!”… 

f) The photo is of Olga the manicurist trying to warn Sylvia that the new hair dryers don’t run on electricity! They run on gas! HIGHLY FLAMMABLE GAS! Sylvia doesn’t remember what happened when she had her hair done on the Hindenburg… 

(Correct answers can be found on page 317 in the new issue of Humpty Dumpty Magazine, right after the Find The Oblong Vegetables In The Tree puzzle.)

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]


... from Sybil Bruncheon’s “My Merry Memoirs!”… Chapter 86… Fortune and Men’s Eyes…

SYBIL SEZ Fortune Teller Machine Freeda Miller (1303).jpg

A big “Thank you!” to my pal Freeda Miller!!! She found the photo!! Yes, the old "SYBIL SEZ! Fortune Phenom-inator" machine that made such a sensation starting in the 1920s at carnivals, amusement parks, international peace conferences, and ladies’ rest rooms. The one pictured here was the new Roswell Rose model released in 1950 when pink was all the fashion..... sadly, Joseph McCarthy decided that it was part of a Communist conspiracy to undermine the youth of America by giving them messages with hidden subversive themes in them..... like "You Will Meet A Handsome Stranger On a Train" might be short-hand for "A One-eyed Fuller Brush Salesman With A Limp Will Pass You The Atom Bomb Plans In A Brown Paper Lunch Bag.... folded in a peanut butter sandwich with Marshmallow Fluff!"... It didn’t help that McCarthy claimed the Sybil fortune-teller-doll was dressed like Eleanor Roosevelt, “that old Commie dyke”, as he called her. In fact, the dress was modeled on the one J. Edgar Hoover wore to his own 53rd Birthday.

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

A New George Sweet Doorway Mystery: "WINGS"...


The Institut des Technologie de la Beauté et Autres Caprices Féminins had been closed and boarded up for several years… possibly decades, since no one in the neighborhood could remember it during its heyday when the heavily carved door swung wide, its little gold bell tinkling merrily for hundreds of visitors every day. Women from all walks of life (and some men too!) were devoted to the wonders that could be found and enjoyed within its magical walls; floor after floor, passageways leading to ante-rooms, personal salons and examining offices, therapy cabinets and cure-chambers, closets and “storagettes” readied and fully equipped to “make miracles”… that was the exact term that its clientele whispered to each other and special friends who were lucky enough to be invited, for it was a “special place”… not for the crude, the brazen, the loutish, the pretentious, and the “common”. 

Oh, make no mistake, the staff of the maison did not bar financially struggling and challenged clients. There was no class-resentment… only “classless resentment” as they liked to say. All clients from rich to poor had to exhibit warmth, kindness, and a desire to learn graciousness if it did not already exist in abundance. The fee-structure was based on a sliding-scale carefully investigated and monitored for accuracy and fairness. Wealthy patrons couldn’t pretend to be poor to get in, and if there was any subterfuge detected, (which it inevitably WOULD be!) that person was not only barred for life, but their family was as well… and their humiliation would be leaked to the gossip-press to increase the shame, complete with photographs in the rotogravure. Oh, the delight the staff would take when someone was caught. Pointing, laughter, and perhaps a sympathetically given “parting gift” of a charming lipstick or mascara secretly loaded with itch-powder or swell-jelly! Oh, the merriment!... especially if the photographers with their huge box-cameras were waiting in the street after being tipped off to capture the full effect of the Institut’s talents gone-horribly-wrong!... flash powders going off with muffled booms and additional laughter and screeching from delighted children in the street… perhaps accompanied by thrown vegetables or poops from the horse carriages.

As raucous as all of this was outside the edifice, the inside was a very different story. The farther one passed into the Institut, the more magical were its wonders. Not only the lotions, salves, tinctures, and tonics but the techniques and regimens had been researched from the most exotic corners of the world and gathered sometimes from quite ancient sources in long extinct cultures. Each client was serviced for what their individual needs and challenges were… not just to “look younger”. That was an easy goal to achieve and considered banal. No, the people lucky enough to find out about the Institut (and to be admitted!) were seeking much more, much deeper and all-consuming. Indeed, some clients never looked younger per se, even after months or years of patronage. But! They experienced the true magic of the place and its staff; the acquisition of… radiance. True radiance. A light coming from inside, regardless of their own physical and fleeting appearance. 

The staff admitted that they themselves were only partly responsible for the successes; the clients were screened and chosen carefully for their own innate aptitude, whether born through luck or bred by loving parents. Each client had to already have a propensity, and a curiosity, a willingness to BE a bearer of light. All the exercises and potions were only a channel to release and enhance that beauty; the truest beauty that any culture, whether sophisticated or simple, has ever really possessed and taught its generations of children, century after century, millennia after millennia. Entire empires have risen and fallen, but that one virtue has survived the worst calamities; the expression of light and love that transcends race, age, religion, class, and time. 

What a strange thing it was to see this once-lush and even mysterious building fallen into disrepair and sadness. Its fanciful architecture which had been designed and executed with so much whimsy and obvious care now appeared almost grim, perhaps even forbidding, resentful, sour. The grimy windows, miraculously still unbroken, staring down like deadened eyes on passersby in the street who dared not look up into them. It was said that to break the windows or even to attempt to look inside would bring a curse, not only of bad luck, but worse; a despair, quiet and gradual, almost imperceptible, until it was too late, too late to resist its awful seduction, down, down into the grey. 

It was in this time that vast financial upheavals in the great cities caused urban space to be sought with greater and greater fervor. There was no room for wasted buildings, no matter what the circumstances. No matter that they were beautiful, or historic, or sweet, or even cursed, they all had to make way for the new, the bigger, the “better”, and the more profitable. Block by block, street by street, city by city, nations began to chew themselves, swallowing their histories and heritages in their relentless and insatiable appetites. Trees, gardens, flower beds, fountains, cottages, townhouses, brick, bronze, marble, stained glass, turrets, towers, everything was fodder for the beast… a beast literally eating itself, and defecating the uneatable… for now. For as things were lost and rebuilt, lost and rebuilt, the ugly and the mediocre became the norm for each generation whose expectations were lower. After all, everything should be disposable, and that message became the anthems and mottoes, the lessons and the commandments.

It was also in this time that a lady of great importance took an unlikely interest in the old building as she passed by it with her assistant. She was the wife of a powerful man, and was known to adopt odd and often eccentric hobbies fueled by whimsical notions which entertained her friends at garden parties and galas. Her husband, bored but busy with… whatever, indulged her fancies with his money and connections, and nodded smilingly when she would come to him with a new request or a happy announcement of a “success”. She took a child-like pride in her achievements often small but sincerely attempted, and her happy heart didn’t seem to mind his bland responses. She was younger than him, not by much, but much younger in her soul. She made inquiries as to the history and ownership of the building, and her husband’s staff did the footwork, technical and official to determine if it was available. The building had literally passed into a strange, almost freakish limbo of bureaucratic oversights and lost paperwork… no families appeared to own it. No estates or corporations, no trusts or consortiums… even the official zoning documents, deeds, and maps of the block were missing… or had never existed. 

And so, through the machinations of the powerful and the political, the building and its contents (if there were any) were acquired by the lady. As a birthday present, coincidentally. The papers, mostly in the society columns, made passing references to the event, and the ribbon cutting even to get inside for the first time was thoroughly rained out; the bright red satin ribbon stretched across the grand but derelict doorway, hanging bedraggled and now a sullen maroon before it finally pulled away from the peg on the left and fell onto the muddy pavement. No one cared… well, of the seven or eight people who had shown up, huddled under wind-yanked umbrellas while the great lady chuckled sweetly and tried to thank them for showing up. The carved door seemed almost angry as she approached and turned the heavy brass and strangely twinkly key in the lock. But the lock did indeed release with a happy and almost hearty clink as if it had never been idled by decades of non-use. (Had someone recently oiled it?) Then, with the help of a couple of the gentlemen present, the lady and her guests managed to shove the reluctant door open over a gravel-carpet of gritty dust and rubble that squeaked and protested loudly. “Like fingernails on a chalkboard!” the lady laughed trying to bring some levity to what might end up being a forlorn afternoon, for, as they entered the dank entry chamber, the grey light seemed to be fading quickly in the dusk and drizzle of a gathering twilight. She shivered a little but hid it from everyone except her best girlfriend who had taken her arm in sisterly support. 

The lady’s young assistant brought up the rear, closing the door behind them all and, interestingly, with almost no resistance or grinding now. The great door almost seemed to be eager to latch smoothly, and the earnest assistant chuckled about it and said something although everyone had moved too far off to hear. Their footsteps echoed as they moved farther and farther into the empty hall. Only rubble and dust were here now. No furniture or furnishings. The windows had no curtains or valences, and were so caked with dirt that now what little light was left outside was only a darkened slate casting no shadows on the floor. It was so dark that the assistant worried in her thorough and efficient way that the lady and her guests might trip, so she scurried to the nearest wall searching for some switch that might work, although she again chuckled to herself at the absurdity of the notion that there could be any light in such a lost place… and then her hand wandered over one of the old push-button switches from a lost time, and the entry chamber was suddenly flooded with the warmest, and warming golden light, like a bolt of friendly lightning that filled the farthest corners of the distant ceiling, painted in heavenly adventures of fantastic creatures and fables, gods and nymphs, dryads and dwarfs, billowing clouds and volcanoes, and the great sparkling crystal-laden mountain of a chandelier, larger and more heartbreakingly radiant than any of them had ever seen… even in their dreams. It was then that the voice, very peaceful and equally warm came to them… was it “hello”?... or… ?

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]

In honor of William Shakespeare, (April 23, 1564 – April 23, 1616)…

Shakespeare Huckabee Conway Collage.jpg

Hello, Friends, (and I use that term loosely)... how many of you have wondered why your school teachers made you study Shakespeare in your early years? Well, now Mummie will help you! Let's start with this seemingly current photo. Please study the photo carefully. Then review the following multiple choices and decide which answer is correct...(and please keep your eyes on your OWN paper):

a) The photo is of KING LEAR's two evil daughters, Regan and Goneril as they decide how best to dispose of their increasingly annoying father and their nice sister Cordelia, so that they can inherit the kingdom and divide its wealth between them.

b) The photo is of two of the three witches in the opening moments of MACBETH. They have just given him their predictions about his future, and are enjoying a smoke in a back-alley of Cawdor Castle while their third "sister" goes for a hair appointment on DuPont circle.

c) The photo is of Queen Tamora from TITUS ANDRONICUS and her lunch pal, Lady Macbeth from MACBETH discussing what to order from the menu at the Palm in Washington DC. Tamora will order the "meat pie"...and Lady Macbeth is excusing herself to the ladies' room to wash her hands for the 15th time...

d) The photo is of Iago from OTHELLO and Claudius from HAMLET doing a drag show for the young republicans club in Poka-Ma-Hola, Idaho. Iago just found a handkerchief that's been used inappropriately and has asked Claudius to smell it to see if he agrees. He does.

e) The photo is of the front and back end of RICHARD III's horse agreeing that the king should change his underpants.

f) The photo is of "two spear carriers" from JULIUS CAESAR just discovering that they had no idea it was a comedy!

g) The photo is of "two handmaidens" in CLEOPATRA saying that they had no idea the queen had put on so much "water-weight", and laughing that she gets "her ass in a basket" at the end of the play.

h) The photo is of two stagehands having a smoke and a beer in an alleyway. They're not sure if they're working on Shakespeare or Neil Simon... whatever. But they HAVE been laughing for over an hour about CORIOLANUS....

i) none of the above

j) all of the above

[Want to read other fun and funny stories here on SybilSez.com? Just enter any topic that pops into your head in the "search" window on the upper right! Who knows what might come up?...and feel free to share them with your friends!]