September 20, 2021

"My New Electric Pencil Sharpener: Get to the Point"

 


Get to the point already, wouldja? 

Awwwright, awwwright. Click below for my latest blab in MEDIUM,

"MY NEW ELECTRIC PENCIL SHARPENER: 

Getting to the Point"


And while you're there, notice at the end of the piece it says,

"Get an email whenever Bonni Brodnick publishes".

Go ahead ... don't be shy.



September 1, 2021

"Fire! Fire! Fire!"

                                                                                                              Photo by Chris Karidis on Unsplash

A fire extinguisher can be a perfect back-to-school gift for students living off-campus. Trust me. 

Read my latest ... "Fire! Fire! Fire!"






August 24, 2021

When Z-Z-Z-Z-Z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z Alludes Me

                                                           Photo by James Toose on Unsplash

 
Here's my latest post/piece/article/blog/whatevs on MEDIUM ...

Confessions of a Hopeless Night Owl:

When your circadian rhythm mismatches
the rest of the world

August 10, 2021

Accepted! "When a Couple Goes (Selectively) Hard of Hearing: Welcome to My Life"

Photo by Mark Paton on Unsplash

And the good news is ...

was accepted by MEDIUM's "Change Becomes You" (which has over 4,000 readers). 

The piece was simultaneously syndicated on their main site, "The Good Men Project" -- reaching an additional audience of over 2-million readers per month.


The other good news of the day: My brother found my missing car keys. 





August 3, 2021

The Perfect IHOP Pedicure



"Want to get pedicures?" My sister asked on a recent rainy, summer afternoon. "There's a new nail salon where the old IHOP used to be."

"Perfect," I said. "Let's bring (our 90-year-old, up-for-anything) Mom." (PAUSE.) "Will they serve us pancakes, too?"

My sister smirked.

When we stepped into the joint, I thought I smelled pancakes underlaying the scent of nail polish remover. I was only dreaming ... dreaming that they'd serve a honkin' plate of blueberry pancakes as I sat there with my calves wrapped in goop and Saran-Wrap.

After the final coat of polish, we helped Mom and walked to the drying zone. We slipped our feet under the fans and felt the cool air. Next up, neck and upper-back massages.

As my mother got hers, she leaned over to me and asked (rather loudly), "Do you think he (the masseur) goes to college?"

I was sure the young man heard her but continued his gentle chop-chop on our mother's neck. You never know what a nonagenarian will say that might be embarrassing.

Upon leaving the salon, it was we noticed that the three of us had, coincidentally, chosen a different hue of pink polish. The sandals we were wearing proudly showed off our renewed sense of kinship. 

If you see my sister, mother, and I walking down the street, feel free to remark on our perfect IHOP pedicures. (I never did receive the pancakes.)






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