Grandma Burcke did whisper to her seven daughters
a mighty secret known only to some quaint farmer folk,
not to be repeated to none other but their own true kin.
‘t Was a wizardry of wondiferous proportions,
a sacred, saucy spell of perma-transmution of…
how to turn a lowly, common slice of meat and grease
into a crispery feat of great delight to taste and sight,
fit only to be served to those one truly, truly loved:
that of their daily bacon!
grandmother_mimi_child (Photo credit: Abraxas3d) – A fraud!
My Grandmother Mimi and my grandfather Alfred, who were both a large part of my life for thirty and forty years respectively, or so I thought, have proven to be a figment of the imagination of quite a number of people. The same goes for my Mum Diane, whom I swore I saw only yesterday, but doesn’t exist. And come to think of it, until recent years I seem to have been a figment of my own imagination. Strange how some things one takes for granted can later on prove to be utter lies.
The truth about these misappropriated and constructed identities was revealed to me only today by two truly enlightened twelve-year-olds. They finally taught me how to distinguish fact from fabrication and trivial rumour mongering. They explained to me the first rule of contemporary proof of existence, which is an article of faith amongst all youngsters;
“Absolutely nothing is real, until it has been posted on Facebook and/or has been tweeted, period!”
At the same time I discovered the secret to everlasting life. Please!, should anyone learn (informally) of my demise in the near or far future, DON’T post it on FB or Twitter, that way the non-confirmation of my offline (and irrelevant) continuance or lack thereof can keep you all in suspense forever.
English: Mrs. John Wheeler Leavitt. Portrait by Philadelphia artist Cecilia Beaux of her grandmother Mrs. John Wheeler Leavitt (nee Cecilia Kent) of Suffield, Connecticut. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
From thundersex on ExperienceProject.com:
A man moves into a nudist colony. He receives a letter
from his grandmother asking him to send her a
current photo of himself in his new location.
Too embarrassed to let her know that he lives in a
Nudist colony, he cuts a photo in half and mails it.
The next day he discovers that he had accidentally sent
the bottom half of the photo. He’s really worried but
then remembers how bad his grandmother’s eyesight is,
and hopes she won’t notice.
A few weeks later, he receives a letter from his
Grandmother, It says: “Thank you for the picture.
Change your hairstyle… It makes your nose look too short.”