The last time I went bowling, I aimed my ball so badly, it went flying diagonally and landed in a neighboring lane. (On the other hand, I’m not half-bad at Wii-Bowling.)
I’m Not Bowled Over By Bowling
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Don’t ask me to bowl. I’m the worst.
When I try to, I’m bound to be cursed.
Other bowlers complain:
“You must aim for your lane!”
No more bowling, unless I’m coerced.
Surmounting Marriage
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Before agreeing to marry my husband Mark, I asked him the usual questions:
Mark told the appropriate fibs, I pretended to believe him, and several months later we wed. But soon after the wedding, I realized I’d forgotten to ask the most important question of all: When you see a mountain, do you get an irresistible urge to do something stupid? (Surmounting Marriage is continued here.)
Healthy, Or Half-Baked?
By Madeleine Begun Kane
My spouse likes to lie in the sun,
Absorbing those rays just for fun.
As for me, I hate sweat.
I’d not bask on a bet.
It’s unsav’ry to bake till you’re done.
(My health humor is collected here.)
UPDATE: July 3rd is Stay Out Of The Sun Day.
Appearances Count (Limerick)
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Her appearance took all by surprise,
For her hair had succumbed to some dyes.
Her lush tresses, once red,
Were now turquoise instead.
Say goodbye to that Westminster prize!
(For those who aren’t familiar with the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, it’s a prestigious international dog show and competition, held annually at Madison Square Garden in New York City. It dates all the way back to 1877.)
Ode To Ambling
By Madeleine Begun Kane
Deserting my day-to-day scramble
When the weather is nice, I will amble,
Just taking my time
While I’m still in my prime,
My terminus strictly a gamble.
How’s this for a corporate nightmare? Every Segway Personal Transporter ever manufactured has been recalled due to a “software glitch in the scooters that can make riders fall.”
This recall calls out for a limerick, don’t you think? So here’s my Ode To The Segway Scooter:
The maker of scooters called Segway
Has recalled them from road, walk, and hedgeway.
Their software’s quite galling.
It’s prone to cause falling.
Now lawyers have fresh “we allege” prey.
A weekend trip is a splendid way to replenish your energy and deplete your bank account. In theory, such journeys should be preceded by thorough research, careful planning, and intense negotiations with your mate. Sounds a lot like work, right? Which is why so many vacations go something like this:
(1). Become increasingly exhausted and overwrought. Bicker with spouse over nonsense. Make up, bicker some more, and decide you both need a vacation. Agree to plan a trip for just the two of you real soon. Fall asleep fantasizing about a work/child/pressure-free orgy of self-indulgence.
(2). Repeat Step (1) many times during the next few months. Repeat it several times more … leaving out the sleep part. (How To Plan A Trip is continued here.)
Planning a vacation can often be a daunting challenge. Especially when one spouse likes to rough it and the other prefers luxuries like toilets, showers, and cable TV. So what’s a couple to do? Well, they can take separate trips. Or they can negotiate and sign on the dotted line.
AGREEMENT, entered into this _________, 20__ by Husband and Wife.
WHEREAS, Husband’s ideal vacation requires hiking boots, compasses, sleeping bags, and knapsacks and doesn’t cost a dime;
WHEREAS, Wife’s ideal vacation requires a five star resort;
WHEREAS, Husband is a spontaneous kind of guy who likes to pick his trips by throwing a coin onto a trail map; … (Taking A Vacation On The Contract Plan is continued here.)
“You’re gonna swing dance in this weather? Are you insane?”
I’ve been asked that a lot lately, which isn’t surprising when you consider this summer’s humidity and heat wave. New York City’s weather has been so unbearable, that felons have switched from car theft to stealing AC’s. … (Jump, Jive, and Sweat is continued here.)
UPDATE: Happy International Dance Day! (April 29th)
Do you and your spouse argue about how to spend your spare time? Togetherness can be tough to achieve when a couple’s interests just don’t jibe. But this contract may be just the cure for your spare time blues.
AGREEMENT entered into on _____, 20__ between opera-buff Wife and sports-fan Husband.
WHEREAS, Husband has been badgering Wife to attend a ball game for as long as they’ve been married, and he has never managed to reach first base;
WHEREAS, Wife has been pressuring Husband to go to the opera for years, and Husband is running out of excuses; and
WHEREAS, Husband and Wife know that if they don’t resolve this soon, each will be attending all functions solo.
NOW, THEREFORE, the parties hereby agree to the following spare time terms:
1. Wife will attend one ball-type game, the selection of which shall be in Husband’s sole discretion, and Husband will attend one opera performance, the selection of which shall be in Wife’s sole discretion. In exercising such discretion, both spouses will keep in mind that divorce lawyers are really expensive … (Sparring Over Spare Time is continued here.)
Tubing — the masochistic act of hurtling down a fall-fraught river while clinging to an inner tube. Somehow my husband Mark talked me, a devout wimp, into trying it.
Why did I go along for the rocky river ride? Perhaps I was dazed by the beauty of the Catskill Mountains’ Esopus River. Perhaps the brave (or foolish) teens who plunged heedlessly into the Esopus shamed me into it. Or maybe I was feeling guilty for being a perennial naysayer. Whatever the reason, one summer day I broke my first rule of survival: If they advise helmets, avoid it.
Before risking the river we signed a paper saying our survivors couldn’t sue. Then Mark paced while I interrogated the clerk about safety. Jagged rock protection was high on her (and my) list. Sneakers for the feet, a helmeted head, and plywood in the tube to protect the tush.
After a short, steep bus ride up river, the driver said “Just throw your tubes into the river and get in.” He pointed towards what looked suspiciously like waterfalls.
Foolish me, I’d assumed there’d be an attendant to provide advice, guidance, and moral support. And to hold the damn tube in place long enough for me to lower myself onto it and grab its pathetic excuse for handles. At the very least, they could have posted a sign saying, “Start your death ride here.” … (Tubing Blues is continued here.)
Mad Kane (Madeleine Begun Kane) is a writer, musician, and "recovering lawyer." She won the Robert Benchley Society Award For Humor and enjoys writing limericks, song parodies, and current events haiku.
You can email her at madkane@madkane.com, visit her political humor blog, or stop by her home page.
You are currently browsing the archives for the Leisure Time Humor category.
