Sybil Bruncheon's A Tale for Thanksgiving Time: "SUBURBAN STORIES THAT STUN AND STUPEFY"...

TODAY IN THE NEWS!..... The warning signs had been there for several months. Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively of 1148 Pembroke Lane had complained to her neighbors of strange voices, coming at first from the telephone, the radio, the television where it seemed strange voices always might have been heard. Indeed, "Ruthie", as she was known to all the Girl Scout Troop mothers, had been known for her quick wit, her sparkling sense of humor, her quirky imagination, and for her desire to be a stand-up comedian in local clubs "once the kids have grown up" as she put it. She even managed a couple of tentative debuts at the local Kiwanis and Shriner's clubs where her little act was described by the local critics as "refreshing"....and "a charming bit of whimsical and timely fluff filled with social commentary and some recipes".

Perhaps it was no surprise when Mrs. Snively began to exhibit eccentricities like a growing diet of Hostess Ding Dongs, Pringles Potato Chips, and vegan "beef" jerky. Frequently, she would answer her front door with facial masks of Marshmallow Fluff and Peter Pan Extra-Crunchy Peanut Butter. Her dependence on increasing dosages of St. Joseph's Aspirin for Children did not go unnoticed at PTA meetings...And on weekends, she could be found incoherent in back alleyways completely drunk on cocktails of Tang ....and Woolite....and Maraschino cherries. After her husband Arthur left her taking the children to Chillicothe, her friends tried interventions and enlisting the aid of the Come To Jesus Society Of Sobriety down on Walnut Street... but nothing worked.

It was finally on that terrible day in January when Snively wandered into her kitchen and overheard all her appliances talking behind her back. Oh yes!..They quickly smiled and pretended to change the subject, but it was too late. She had heard the worst!...and the jokes at her expense.... comments about "that tired old apron", and her "water-weight gain after the Holidays".....It was all too much! TOO MUCH!...and so, lovely, sweet, witty Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively calmly went to her former friend the Sunbeam waffle maker, laid her perfectly coiffed head down on its non-stick surface, and slowly pressed herself into a fluffy breakfast treat for the police to find later in the afternoon. Her suicide note was found on the counter beside an unopened bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's and a virgin stick of Land 'O' Lakes lightly salted butter. (You know Land 'O' Lakes? The one with the Indian maiden on the front whose knees look like breasts??)

Well, Ruth is now being treated for first degree burns and minor cheek-dimpling at Flower Of Mercy Hospital downtown, and will be receiving a lovely re-contouring of her complexion while being housed in their newly opened Extreme Neurosis Wing. She's slowly being re-acclimated to Kitchen Chore duty.... but under strict (and loving!) supervision.... (she continues to wear earplugs to ...shut out.. "unwelcome" chatter"...)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "My Merry Memoirs"... Just lick here!...

Imagine my dismay, after saving green stamps for decades, never cashing them in on small, stupid household items, and finally having enough (literally 14 boxcars full) to buy the Chrysler Building (on page 343 of their catalogue!)... and to be told, "I'm sorry ma'am, S&H green stamps has gone out of business... but it sounds like you've got enough there to wallpaper a lovely guest bathroom!"...

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Ordinary Housewives & Their Extraordinary Adventures!'... Millie and Jane...

Isn't it strange how sometimes a seemingly innocent afternoon chore can suddenly, oh so suddenly veer into quite a different thing?... for instance, my bridge pals Millie Jankowski and Jane Plynth were asked to check out the county fair's amusement park rides for the Safety Committee at our PTA. There had been the usual breaches of licenses and certificates that one expects from circus and carny persons, especially when they show up at the town bureau in stained tank top t-shirts (I believe they call them "wife-beaters"). I'm sorry, but soiled hands, grimy fingernails, and too many tattoos of anchors wrapped in thorns, skulls smoking cigarettes, and words like "Mother", "Git Lost", and "Be My Beezle-Bubba" are NOT the sort of thing one should be displaying at the Town Manager's desk... especially at 8am.

Anyway, Millie and Jane along with several other of the concerned mothers went down on the opening morning of the Radnor County Fair to inspect the novelty booths, the concession stands and their foodstuffs, the amusement tents and their performers and inhabitants, and of course the rides! Each of the ladies was given her own clip board and a several page questionnaire to evaluate and either praise or criticize each aspect of the fair... on a scale of 1 to 10. Interestingly, the food concessions placed rather high in the scales; hot dogs were actually kosher and fairly pricey, cotton candy was spun in sterile and hygienic hoppers, popcorn was freshened every half hour, all dairy products (ice cream, etc) were kept safely at ice cold temperatures, and soft drinks were provided only by reputable corporations and not bottled in out-of-the-way locations like Borneo, Chad, or Buttpoke, Wisconsin.

Even the rides all seemed to pass inspection; bolts were tight, levers reliable, ratchet chains unrusted, wheels, pulleys, and rails all clean and shiny!... only the Devil's Delight Roller Coaster seemed to be problematic... you see, at one point on the ride, on the way down from the first major hill, there stood an arch under which the train would hurtle, carrying the screaming passengers! The arch was elaborately (and luridly!) painted with a smiling Satan, nearly naked and ferociously handsome and muscular, surrounded by dozens of leering imps, gnomes, elves, quanta-bobbies, and oblong garden vegetables all dancing , laughing, and making rude gestures at the passengers below. Flames, smoke, pitchforks of various lengths, and the usual "You're Going To Hell" paraphernalia were also scattered about in the mural... along with a tinny recording of raucous laughter, terrifying shouts, roaring thunder, tuneless organ music, and barnyard sounds.

And it was there just as they passed that an unexplainable phenomenon would occur! People would suddenly feel their undergarments groped, yes! GROPED... and even pulled up! Rather ENERGETICALLY! For men, there was the discomfort of having their "personal parts" suddenly mashed into their underpants, not so bad if they were wearing boxers, but with briefs, the sensation might be quite uncomfortable, eliciting bellows of anger and pain... or shrieks from men of a more... um... sensitive nature!

The ladies on the other hand, did not find the experience at all disquieting! In fact, they responded more often with yowling laughter... When asked afterwards what they felt under the archway as they hurtled by, they often blushed, looked nervously at each other and down at the ground, straightened their rumpled dresses, and retreated quickly to the foot-long hot-dog counter... with extra-spicy mustard!

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Springtime… In Other… um… Places"...

Nancy Kuppermann so enjoyed the arrival of Spring! Like many housewives in her community, she did all her Spring cleaning; cleaned out the basement, attic, and garage, and even painted her husband’s study and a guest bedroom and bathroom… all before she started on the gardening. She and her best pal, Karen Folger, met on Saturday and picked out tulip, hyacinth, daffodil, and jralanthus bulbs, and, after an hour or so of planting together, they went grocery shopping. Brocklezezzer’s had a special in their Wonderful World of Salad Dressings section, and the girls didn’t want to miss out on both the variety and the bargains. So many wonderful flavors and regional specialties from all different parts of their world.

But that’s how it was in a place that was strictly vegetarian. Nancy had married a Chicory, and Karen’s husband was from a long line of Arugalas. Most women eventually ate their husbands around their second or third anniversary, and certainly no later than their 4th. They’d be too woody or even wilted by then… NO! A really sumptuous husband should be fresh, leafy green, rinsed thoroughly and served with a luscious blue cheese, or, in the case of Mr. Folger, a tangy Caesar! After all, he was really Italian, wasn’t he?… and that was how Springtime was celebrated on the planet JZzelelry 6… in the “Vega” system…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Diller-A-Dollar Tales For Today's Investors"...

Becky Shrubmeyer and Helen Thikfistle prided themselves on being modern women who could take their house allowances from their husbands and not only keep their homes running but also put aside some "pin money" to play the stock market. During the day, when their housekeeping chores were done, the laundry was in their washers and dryers, and dinners were already on the stove, Becky and Helen would sit over afternoon coffee and chocolate chip cookies and clip coupons for the grocery store and check out the financial pages of the Times and the Wall Street Journal... and boy did they hit it big! So big, in fact, that they finally opened separate (and secret!) savings accounts away from their husbands' prying eyes.

Their accounts grew and grew as they bought and sold, bought and sold; stocks for mining copper in Idaho and gold in Nigeria, corn futures in Iowa and wheat in Argentina, pork bellies in Kansas and beef from Brazil... The world truly was, as the saying goes, "their oyster"! The money poured in, and their private savings accounts climbed into the six figures. Even nice Mr. Throckmorton at the brokerage would greet them by their first names and scurry over with his secretary, Miss Pynch with coffee and donuts when they might wander into the office once a month to confer about their investments. All the other brokers and their support staffs would point and whisper about "those two gals from Grandy Corners" in the mostly male world of profits and portfolios of 1957.

It all seemed ideal, didn't it? The sleek and chic 1950s unfolding in post-war abundance... until that bump in the road called the Eisenhower Recession... when all the laughter and martinis turned into screeching and tears. Yep, "the gals" had made a careless choice to invest all their money in lipstick and mascara futures in some place called Iraq. In a single weekend, their accounts were gone... all gone. And it was back to the ironing boards and jello molds with carrot shavings, Spam chunks, and mini-marshmallows... with Phil and Carl none the wiser… oh well...

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Sybil Bruncheon's "Thanksgiving Household Hints & Helpfuls!"...

Facebook Friends!… Making plans for your Thanksgiving?? Why not get in touch with the Institute of Advanced Thankfulness & Attendant Festivities? They have a staff of internationally recognized experts who have lifted the traditional "turkey 'n' stuffing" we all grew up with into a science. And by applying protocols of research, experimentation, and advanced study they have made breakthroughs that may eliminate all the trial and error of improvised side dishes, improperly prepared recipes from Grandma, dried out or fossilized turkey carcasses, bizarre Jello concoctions, and timing catastrophes between arrivals of appetizers and apple pies. They can even provide the modern housewife with special garments which aid in the whole process and protect her from injury while giving her every kitchen utensil she could possibly need. Why not get in touch with our staff today? Just call I-M-N-O-T-U-R-K-E-Y... that's right! Dial 466-688-7539. The nice man will tell you how to order!… and wait! This just in! If you order now, you’ll receive the new miniature carry-all purse-sized version of these handy dandy items… invented by our own Dr. Heidi Klieber, it’s the new “Swiss Army Wife”!… Perfect for Picnics, Parties, or the Battle-Front! It can perform over 76 different “wifely-functions”!… even after “lights-out”!... Call today!

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Sybil Bruncheon's A Tale for Thanksgiving Time: "SUBURBAN STORIES THAT STUN AND STUPEFY"...

The warning signs had been there for several months. Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively of 1148 Pembroke Lane had complained to her neighbors of strange voices, coming at first from the telephone, the radio, the television where it seemed strange voices always might have been heard. Indeed, "Ruthie", as she was known to all the Girl Scout Troop mothers, had been known for her quick wit, her sparkling sense of humor, her quirky imagination, and for her desire to be a stand-up comedian in local clubs "once the kids have grown up" as she put it. She even managed a couple of tentative debuts at the local Kiwanis and Shriner's clubs where her little act was described by the local critics as "refreshing"....and "a charming bit of whimsical and timely fluff filled with social commentary and some recipes".

Perhaps it was no surprise when Mrs. Snively began to exhibit eccentricities like a growing diet of Hostess Ding Dongs, Pringles Potato Chips, and vegan "beef" jerky. Frequently, she would answer her front door with facial masks of Marshmallow Fluff and Peter Pan Extra-Crunchy Peanut Butter. Her dependence on increasing dosages of St. Joseph's Aspirin for Children did not go unnoticed at PTA meetings...And on weekends, she could be found incoherent in back alleyways completely drunk on cocktails of Tang ....and Woolite....and Maraschino cherries. After her husband Arthur left her taking the children to Chillicothe, her friends tried interventions and enlisting the aid of the Come To Jesus Society Of Sobriety down on Walnut Street... but nothing worked.

It was finally on that terrible day in January when Snively wandered into her kitchen and overheard all her appliances talking behind her back. Oh yes!..They quickly smiled and pretended to change the subject, but it was too late. She had heard the worst!...and the jokes at her expense.... comments about "that tired old apron", and her "water-weight gain after the Holidays".....It was all too much! TOO MUCH!...and so, lovely, sweet, witty Mrs. Ruth Anne Snively calmly went to her former friend the Sunbeam waffle maker, laid her perfectly coiffed head down on its non-stick surface, and slowly pressed herself into a fluffy breakfast treat for the police to find later in the afternoon. Her suicide note was found on the counter beside an unopened bottle of Mrs. Butterworth's and a virgin stick of Land 'O' Lakes lightly salted butter. (You know Land 'O' Lakes? The one with the Indian maiden on the front whose knees look like breasts??)

Well, Ruth is now being treated for first degree burns and minor cheek-dimpling at Flower Of Mercy Hospital downtown, and will be receiving a lovely re-contouring of her complexion while being housed in their newly opened Extreme Neurosis Wing. She's slowly being re-acclimated to Kitchen Chore duty.... but under strict (and loving!) supervision.... (she continues to wear earplugs to ...shut out.. "unwelcome" chatter"...)

[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!]