I am the child of pranksters, I married a jokester and my children appreciate the sheer magic of a whoopie cushion. I am a blessed fool.
This is why April 1st brings such joy to our home. We've pulled off a few golden pranks over the years but none compare to the genius of these. But first...
...the History of April Fools' Day
And now, a cute one. The Flying Penguins (my kids LOVED this & totally fell for it!)
A true April Fools' Day Classic: The 1957 Spaghetti Harvest
And this in honour of happy hearted, fun people everywhere—the best Math Teacher Ever! (If he was my teacher in high school, I might actually be able to balance my cheque book today.)
Happy April Fools' Day!
Lisa.... Big Fool
If you know me, you’re painfully aware of my love of puns and lust for alliteration. It’s genetic.
In lieu of a post about Easter party games or recipes, here are a few of my favourite Easter inspired jokes. I plan on cracking these out during our annual family brunch. On the menu; waffles, eggs, coffee and...a healthy serving of pun-cakes with maple syrup.
Why did the Easter egg hide?
He was a little chicken.
What do you call ten rabbits marching backwards?
A receding hareline.
Who's the egg laden rabbit who jumps off bridges?
The Easter Bungee!
Did you hear about the Hotel owner who raised a baby rabbit?
It was an inn-grown hare.
What did the evil rabbit leave for Easter?
Why are people always tired in April?
Because they just finished a march.
Why did the magician have to cancel his show?
He'd just washed his hare and couldn't do a thing with it.
What's invisible and smells like carrots?
The Ether Bunny.
Why do we paint Easter eggs?
Because it's easier than trying to wallpaper them. (That one's for you @SarahGunnStyle!)
What do Easter Bunny helpers get for making a basket?
Two points, just like anyone else.
Feel free to entertain/annoy your family with these gems during your family's Easter egg hunt tomorrow. You're welcome/I'm sorry (depending on how you feel about juvenille pun humour).
Hoppy Easter everyone! ~ Party Mummy....The Punny Bunny
Get hopping with even more ways to help you with your Easter entertaining, get crafty with your kids, and celebrate chocolate.
This post is about the most popular social media culture since the dawn of the internet, the almighty Twitter.
In this digital kingdom there are gods who anoint their followers with their holy klout. Disciples retweet the wisdom of their ministers with a blind faith that has them believing every tweet is the gospel truth (Jon Bon Jovi is indeed still alive and well by the way). And of course, there are sinners who spam and spew forth criticism and judgment.
Which of the holy social media covenant are thee? Er, ye?
We are all tempted by salacious gossip or into hurling virtual stones at a brother or sister tweeter in the “wrong.” Maybe you’ve cast out a fellow tribesman for some perceived slander? Or perhaps you’ve offered up a PAT (Passive Aggressive Tweet). You know, a-not-so subtle tweet about someone—not mentioning her by name, but not exactly leaving her identity in the dark. A PAT is more welcome as an ambiguous character on SNL than in our Twitter feed.
I admit to giving in to temptation—I have unfollowed out of spite and have worn the scarlet letter P on my pajama top after a PMS fueled PAT episode. I am only human.
And so I now look to a higher power and her name is Annabel. She graces social media with kindness and banishes negativity from its realm.
When I am tempted by tweevil, I ask myself, “What would
Jesus Annabel do?”
In her wisdom she once said, “I treat Twitter like a party. I engage with those who are there in the moment.” She participates in healthy discussions and turns away from spiteful banter. When it is time, she exits the party graciously and goes back to her life. Though she may not be able to turn water into wine, she is still a holy force.
The next time you are tempted to join an angry Twitter mob or retrace a Twitter steam back to its origin for no reason other than pure noseyness, ask yourself, “What would Annabel do?”
Why the religious theme? Who the hell knows? I barely made it through Sunday School as a child…