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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/newsletters/action/archives/id/4955-Rock-on-WebWitch-rock-on.html
Comedy: March 28, 2012 Issue [#4955]

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Comedy


 This week: Rock-on, Web~Witch, rock-on!
  Edited by: Sssssh! I'm not really here.
                             More Newsletters By This Editor  

Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

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Get outta my way, old woman! This chair is mine!

Probably not one of my best moments. Let's take a look...




Word from our sponsor



Letter from the editor

The other day, I found a quiet corner of the huge banquet hall of our sub-division, to do some reviews and writing. It's unusual that there were no functions going on at the time such as card playing, jam sessions, Scrabble or a luncheon of some kind. Thus, I was thrilled to find this piece of prime real estate to rest my witch's butt and do some serious work.

As I was doing my reviews, I caught a glimpse of something in the corner of my eye. It was this vintage, wicker rocking chair. *Smile* I went over to it and checked it out. It was in great condition, except for the cushions which could be easily replaced.

Sometimes there are renters who don't want to drag their furniture back North with them or they pass-away and their relatives don't want to deal with the stuff so they donate the items to the Homeowners' Association to resell at tag sales or bazaars, which helps to raise money for their events. Evidently, this chair was one of those "orphaned" items.

It had a price tag and was giving me that "you know you want me," look. *Smirk* I rocked for a while and decided the chair was right! I do want it.

Web-Lock took the car to the golf course that morning, while I rode an old-time, classic bicycle, (for mechanically disinclined witches) with foot brakes rather than those hand brakes that mock my dexterity or lack thereof, to the club house. So, I promised myself I would go to the ATM machine as soon as he got back from his game so I could get the cash to purchase the wicker rocker.

I returned to my industrious writing and reviewing when I heard this creaking noise. When I turned around to check on my chair, I found an old lady sitting in it and rocking away.

I tried to remain calm, smiling at that trespasser of my property, and said, "it's a comfortable chair, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, it sure is. In fact, I'm thinking of buying this chair."

My thoughts started churning madly in my mind. Over my dead body, Old Woman, will you get my rocking chair!

She continued on with her plans for my rocker while she rubbed her hands over the back arch of the chair.

"I will have to paint it white, though."

She wants to paint my wicker rocker, white?!!! That'll ruin the natural patina of this well-aged, beauty.

"Oh, I see. Why would you need to paint it white? It looks fine as is."

"Well, you see, I have a room full of white wicker and this chair wouldn't look right in it."

*Thought*

Geez, lady, get out of your rut. Try a little variety in your pure, white existence. I suppose you've never heard of a well-placed accent piece? Add some interest to your room's sterile appearance.

She started walking away while declaring,"Yes, that's what I'll do. I'm going to call someone who is in charge of selling this chair and tell her I'm going to buy it. I just need to find the directory with her number in it."

With that stabbing statement swirling in the animal instinct, stem part of my brain, it became a fight or flight situation. She's too old for me to beat the crap out of and that just wouldn't be right. *Smirk* Thus, I had to flee to the ATM before she found the phone number of that woman.

I packed my laptop in a tote bag, gathered my bottles of water and my handbag and ran hobbled to my bike. I knew I should have brought my high-speed broom down south with me. I didn't want to pay extra mode of transportation fees, insurance, (which is quite high on witches' brooms) and local registration.

Picture me, tote bag over handlebars, old bike, bad hip, pedaling like a bat out of Hades to race home hoping to find WL there, so we could get to the ATM machine.

I passed that white haired demon on her adult tricycle with her little toy poodle, in one of those doggy totes that fit in the basket.

Folks, I was suddenly thrown into a scene out of the Wizard of Oz. My mind was reeling! I waved and smiled as I rode past her.

I'll get you, old woman, and your little tote-dog, too!

The faster I biked, the harder the laptop bag swung back into my leg, jolting my hip and aggravating the pain. Ignoring that, I heard that sinister tune playing in my head. You know the one. It's the one they played when the evil neighbor of poor Dorothy, (who also became the Wicked Witch of the West in the dream sequence,) rode off on her bike after complaining about Toto. It sounds something like: Doot-do-doot, do do do.

OMG, folks, I realized at that moment that I had turned into the Wicker Witch of the South! *Shock*

I couldn't imagine having to ride my bike all the way down the highway to the closest ATM. However, I would have done that if necessary! It would have taken a house falling on me, to prevent me from getting my chair!

Thankfully, WL had arrived home by the time I got there. We used a faster, less painful means of transportation to get to the ATM. With cash in my hands, we went back to the hall where my wicker rocking chair sat. I plunked my butt down for the fight of my life just in case anyone would attempt to separate me and my chair, while Web-Lock left to get the directory with the phone number of the person in charge.

"Web~Witch, here's the number, her name is Donna."

I was rocking while dialing the number. Creak-creak, creak-creak.

"Hello, is this Donna?"

"Yes, it is."

"This is WW. WL and I saw a lovely, wicker rocker for sale. We'd like to buy it. Where should I bring the money?" Creak-creak, creak-creak.

"Oh, I'll be out tonight. Why don't you just take the chair with you and pay me tomorrow. If anyone asks, just say, I sold it to you."

"Oh, okay, we'll do that. Thank you, Donna, we will go pick it up right now. creak-creak, creak-creak. See you tomorrow, good bye." *Smirk*

"Let's go now, WL, before that old lady comes back for the chair claiming she already paid another committee member for it."

Sitting on my new vintage chair by my window, I watched the sun set. I thought to myself, "You had a good day. *Smile* Rock-on, Web~Witch, rock-on!"

It's a wrap for this edition of the Comedy Newsletter, folks. For all of you living in the Northern Hemisphere, happy spring!

Until next time--laugh hard, laugh often!

Ta,
Web~Witch






Editor's Picks

 Invalid Item 
This item number is not valid.
#892463 by Not Available.


Mechanically Declined  (13+)
A lesson in limitations
#1629822 by rthomas


S'more good, clean, harmless fun.  (18+)
raising children
#1288030 by SonofDrogo


 Embarrassing Revelations  (13+)
An evening dinner goes awry as some embarrassing truths are revealed.
#1636922 by Prof Moriarty


 A Gift To A Stranger  (E)
What do you give someone you don't know for their birthday?
#1469650 by Voxxylady


 Good-Bye Squirrel  (18+)
A Squirrel ruins the hunt that two Rednecks are having. Based on the song.
#1735794 by BIG BAD WOLF is hopping


 Resignation  (13+)
Comedic resignation letter written for Writer's Cramp.
#844127 by Diane


Forget Maytag. Do the Roomba Rumba!  (13+)
Strickly in fun, but a good lesson about humans over machines.
#1292891 by Sssssh! I'm not really here.

 
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Ask & Answer

billwilcox

As I read your editorial, my mouth fell open when you said you caught a shark (a hammerhead nonetheless which are real handy around the house when you want to hang a painting or something) but when you said the other fishermen were ogling your assets, well all I could picture was you fishing in a Victoria Secrets outfit. And then it came to me, you're scantily clad and catching sharks! Duh!!!

Must have something to do with it, Bill. *Laugh* I wore my bathing suit one extremely hot day on the pier and caught a MAKO! While I rustled with that shark, the other sharks sort of moved further away on the pier. *Wink*


LJPC - the tortoise

Yes, it appears trouble follows you everywhere. *Rolleyes* Maybe it would help if you wore turtlenecks to the pier, pretended not to understand English at the library, and did the wash at 2 in the morning like the rest of us. On the other hand, I'm sure trouble would still come a-tapping at your door.
Thanks for sharing the "Ongoing Adventures of WW & WL" and making me laugh. *Bigsmile*
~ Laura

Yup, trouble would still find me, Laura. *Laugh*

Turtlenecks in the Florida heat? I just can't do it! I still have the hot, Northern blood. I'm wearing tank-tops while others on the pier are wearing jackets. I just don't get it. *Confused*



BIG BAD WOLF is hopping

Try Myrtle Beach then- been there twice with no issues. Just before Spring Break.

I am a trouble magnet. It doesn't matter which beach, I cannot escape the drama.

Thanks for the feedback. *Thumbsup*



Comment via email:

Joey's Spring has Sprung

Dear Webby,

Two, Giant Thumbs Up!,*ThumbsUp* *ThumbsUp*

I don't know how often people write back to say thanks for your efforts, but I venture
it is an insufficient number!

Great job

Wow, thanks so much, Joey! I really appreciate your comment. It made my day! *Delight*



Submitted item: "Invalid Item

yllus

I would like to submit my story, "Pedro Kozlowski" for consideration to appear in the Comedy Newsletter. Thank you.

Thanks for the submission, Sully!



Thank you for your feedback, folks. We editors really appreciate it. *Delight*

See you next month!

*Bigsmile*
WW






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