Hanukkah Harry: The Mensch. The Myth. The Meshugenah.

hannakkuh-harrySM

YoYo-Dyne receives hundreds of thousands of search hits each December from folks spread across the globe. All looking for more information on that icon of Chutzpah, Hanukkah Harry.

Mr. Harry agreed to an interview and we are honored to present you with this historic discussion.

Miss R: Welcome Hanukkah! Can I call you Hanukkah?
HH: Thank you Miss R. It’s a pleasure to be here. For you, Hanukkah is just fine. Hanukkah Harry knows who’s been naughty or nice. Your naughtiness always makes up for your flaw in being only half a Hebe.
Miss R: Oh, thank you Hanukkah. You’re eyeing the tasty treats I’ve made. Care for one?
HH: Ummmm what are they? Almost looks like rugelach.
Miss R: It’s my own creation: Shiksa Cakes. I just used stale white bread to make the pastry and the filling is made with nuts, dates and mayonnaise. All Kosher!
HH: Going to pass on those but I applaud you. Remember the year you left out lobster rolls on the first night? It still saddens me to think that instead of socks I was forced to leave a lump of Plutonium-240.
Miss R: Not to worry Hanukkah, I sold it to a certain country in the Middle East and made a tidy profit.
HH: That’s my girl!

Miss R: Let’s move on to some questions. First, why did you wait until the late 1980’s to reveal yourself?
HH: It seemed the right time. Jon Lovitz approached me and I gave my blessing. What a funny boychik! He pissed me off though and I had to cancel his subscription to Funny B List Actors.
Miss R: What would you buy for yourself to celebrate the holidays?
HH: I’d buy time, and I’d get it wholesale. I like to call it a time off for good behavior deal.
Miss R: Who do you consider the sexiest woman in the world?
HH: That’s an easy one, not that your latkes don’t bring all the boys to the yard. It’s Mrs. Claus of course. Have you seen her lately? Hasn’t aged in a millennium! Got her looks from her father, a plastic surgeon.
Miss R: I see you wear your hair in the traditional Orthodox manner. A lot of our readers want to know why you haven’t kept up with the times.
HH: Are you kidding me? No way can I survive without these curly locks, and bagels.
Miss R: You’ve previously saved Christmas and proved yourself a friend to Goy and Jew alike. Are you still proud of this accomplishment?
HH: Proud? I get verklempt each time someone mentions it. Fred Phelps spontaneously combusting couldn’t please me more.

Miss R: We’re about out of time. From myself and all of the Lectoids here at YoYo-Dyne, here’s to a Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas. Any last thoughts?
HH: Miss R I’ve had a perfectly wonderful evening, and this wasn’t it. Just quote me as saying I was mis-quoted. Zey gezunt!

That’s all for tonight. Join us next week for our exclusive interview with the Baby Jesus.
Was bacon really the contributing factor in establishing his new religion?

hanukkah wish2

~Miss R

What Your Search Terms Are Saying Behind Your Back

Image courtesy of MediaFuturist

Image courtesy of MediaFuturist

Due to a Creative Block currently tying up Highway 50 just east of Right Side of the Brain Plaza off-ramp, YoYo-Dyne finally presents today’s offering. There has never been a post so bone -headed -chilling, spell-binding, spine crackling, lacking in original concept and dripping with so many useless adjectives it’s reminiscent of rats abandoning a neglected blog.

You’ll Laugh! You’ll Cry! You’ll Drool with Joy!
Hell, you’ll go running next door to rub your balls on the neighbor’s dog!

Sit back, grab a beverage and get ready to find out some frightening facts about our readers

THE WEIRD AND DISTURBING SEARCH TERMS USED TO LAND HERE AT
YOYO-DYNE PROPULSION SYSTEMS

  • Sloths for Sale – The first thing that came to mind upon seeing this was naturally ‘Dammit. It’s no longer legal to sell The Demon Seed ™ since she’s over 18.’ To my knowledge there are no sloth pictures, sloth memes, wash sloths or Placental Mammals of any kind lurking on the premises.
  •  sloth for sale – NO SLOTHS FOR YOU! There are three additional sloth related search terms as well. I became perplexed and did a search of the site. Then fell back to sleep.
  • Funny Reason To Hire Me – This had a lot of views. Several years ago I wrote a post called Amazingly Compelling Reason To Hire Me. In all humility it is the funniest CV ever produced. What scares me about the number of queries on this one is that some poor schmuck is looking to steal my intellectual property. Albeit 6 year old intellectual property. Swine.
  •  dead christmas tree – When I think twisted humor, mental illness, sobriety, cute kitties, and rare neuro-spinal diseases the first thought is always The Yoyo-Dyne Propulsion Systems’ Dead Christmas Tree Lot and Sloth Farm’
  • fuck my weed and my weed fuck – While I neither endorse nor condone the use of any controlled substance (Try it. What are you? Chicken?) there is no phrase remotely similar to either of these well thought out searches. We do not endorse nor condone the use of expletives either. You weed fucker.
  •  fapping to facebook pictures – Yes it’s true. There is a lengthy comment section on a piece in which I try to explain fapping to some of my favorite readers, mostly in the UK and Australia. Yes. It was in relation to a F**eBook status I’d written that day. Yes. I have no shame.
  • hanukkah santa sorry change the door – Truly, this cannot be explained. Let’s move on shall we?
  •  dumbass ex husband pic – Hahahahaha. Joke’s on them. I have two dumbass ex husbands.
  • sloth un rape – Dear god what is wrong with people? Just saw this one. Sloth.
  •  purple bondage tits – For you long time readers there’s no question why this baby showed up. WP insists on giving YoYo-Dyne the equivalent of an R rating. Someone in the head office likes boobies but won’t share. Sonny wouldn’t Cher either and look what happened to him.
  •  pimped out walkers – These two anonymous Googlers made my dark cold heart swell three sizes today
  • stephen hawking drunk – another twofer! Yep it isn’t enough that the guy is a human autoclave. Let’s give Steve a hangover and let him click-twitch-bang-clackety his way to the fridge for an early morning PBR.
  • mitt romney fuck – This speaks for itself

Here are a couple more just because: homeless whore – two queries using this search term; probably the ex husbands, -peter o’toole and cat, -why germans always loose the war, -draun rag vineo yo yo hane sige, -sex, drugs & wheelchairs, -i feel fantastic

Had the usual 100+ hits for Hanukkah Harry, End of the World stuff, Depressing Playlists, anything and everything Burning Man, and at least twenty regarding Wombies.

I suggest using at least six of these search terms in your next writing endeavor. Obviously these are my people. They can be yours too.

No need to thank me. My job is to be a ray of sunshine in your rain clouded Word program of brain storms.
You’re welcome.

~Miss R 

You Wish You All Could Be California Girls

I killed a man in Reno just to see him die.

No, don’t worry. The Reno PD are slow to find bodies. Or their own squad cars. This has given me time to return to the state of my childhood and another ten years here after the golden age of music, idiocracy and debauchery: Living and working in NYC during the 80’s.

Left the wilds of Reno for the womb with a view in Gold Country. That’s right. I’ve moved in with my mother and step-dad. Arrived with the 24 foot moving van, electronics, musical instruments, 3 pieces of furniture, more books than you can shake a librarian at, more music than you could shake a piano at, Lizzie Borden the cat, and most importantly shovels, axes, Hefty bags, cinch ties and a valid passport.

Arrived Thursday night in northern California, nestled between Lake Tahoe and Sacramento. Mountains, forests, working gold mines hidden in the hills and pot farms. It’s nice to be home.

Been rolling rolling rolling the past two months.  Got the Cadillac of Walkers here. Four wheels. Count ’em FOUR. Still looking for an electric wheelchair to do my Bette Midler routine. Walk like Lurch. If Lurch were 5’2″ tall and a gal with an hourglass figure. My hourglass just has 20 minutes more than the dull standard item. Trying to get a handle on leaving friends behind, people who weren’t friends behind and people I had to duct tape to the furnace behind. Hold on, let me turn on the tunes and hit shuffle.

Wow! You Get What You Give.

Plan to sit outside in the sun later. Already seeing myself as FDR out in the yard. Hand me that blanket will ya? All I need is a war room to work on the current world domination plan. Or, I could paint a Risk board on the patio table. Will let you know. Having a freakish stretch of warm weather before the snow. Yeah I’m still close to Donner Pass. If I invite you for dinner be sure to bring your own utensils. Rolling around in salt and garlic before leaving your place would be a nice touch.

I’m trapped with the parental units until Spring.
Some Good Points:
Room and Board $300.00 a month
Save some money for the first time in 5 years. After time in Baltimore I’ll find a new place here in NoCal.
Plenty of time to work on strengthening exercises and PT
No longer forced to call the fire department to change my bib
Someone around to help me get up when I go crashing to the floor
Chance to meet new friends! Okay it’s the damned mailman but we’re taking baby steps
No distractions to keep me from writing and pondering
Some Bad Points:
Have to ask mommy to drive me to the store or meeting
House is on a hill so there is no escape. It’s literally all downhill from here
I can’t leave my room without an interrogation. I now expect a Spanish Inquisition.
Both of my parents are deaf as fuck. Everyone is shouting. All of the time. Note to Self: Holidays approaching. Purchase Hearing Aids. Learn ASL. Teach parents.
Am not improving and the looks of pity from the family are killing me.  I really do shake rattle and roll! Thank god I’m a piano player.
The man I loved left me. It’s a bitch to try and suddenly un-love someone.
Johns Hopkins is in fucking Baltimore. Not a winter get-away destination. Have to hold on until Spring.
No distractions to keep me from writing and pondering

never waste t ime

Got my cat, was allowed to keep one desktop and one laptop. Quote from mom “What the fuck?! You have too many electronics.”  Yes, I received the Executive Training in Expletives from Mom. “What the hell is that?!”  It’s my practice amp Mom. “For the love of Christ what is this?” It’s a Blue-Ray player mom. “You are NOT taking all of those computers into the house!” Okay Mom I’ll just leave my life’s work in computer coding, the graphics server and other two towers in the climate controlled storage unit. Ooops snuck in a second laptop. Hope she doesn’t find my stash. Of computers. Damn that’s just sad. I need to find weed just to really get that ‘home for semester break’ feel.

DEAR GOD MY MUSIC SERVER IS IN A STORAGE UNIT
But it’s okay mon, Everything is gonna be alright!

I get a do-over. Not many people are given that option. Sure it comes at a price but doesn’t everything. Plan on spending a month or two at Johns Hopkins this Spring. Going to be a guest at the world’s only clinic dedicated to Transverse Myelitis. Enroll in any and all of their clinical trials. Learn new ways to ambulate with their specialized PT program. I’m SO ready.

With caring, learning and self-love I’m going to not only walk unassisted again but kick some ass. Gonna dance under the moonlight on the playa. Spend lots of time strolling the streets of San Francisco with my daughter. Laugh with friends. Meet new people… and try not to kill them. Who knows what this coming ten-year cycle will bring.

It’s a new state of living. The state of California. Miss R home for the holidays. Swimming pools, movie stars.

Well now it’s time to say
Goodbye to Rach and all her kin,
They would like to thank
You folks for kindly droppin’ in.
You’re all invited back again to this locality
To have a heapin’ helpin’ of her hospitality
City Girl that is, sit a spell, take your shoes off.
Y’all come back now, y’hear?

~Miss R

Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Winner of the Week!

A Big Hello to our friends and axe wielding Viewers!

Live from our underground  bunker in an undisclosed neighborhood of Fabulous Reno Nevada, your update on the most highly rated contest now available in any media!

 The Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Contest

Unpaid Spokesperson in no way represents Rachael's actual image

Unpaid Spokesperson in no way represents Rachael’s actual image

  • Survivor?  For lazy slobs with giant televisions and no job
  • Big Brother? Could not watch an entire episode. It’s that cretinous
  • Jersey Shore? Never seen it but I hear it involves a goodly amount of tanning lotion and buttsx. Time is better spent working on my newest piece of Artwork: Filth Encrusted Used Chewing Gum and Unidentifiable Icky Things On Sneakers.

It’s Interactive too
Not Interactive in the sense of the above listed contests. You know, Vote For Your Favorite by texting IAMABOOB to Sprint at the low low cost of $3.00 per vote. *
*no longer available in Washington D.C. due to overload of communications services during episode airtime.  Re-runs currently crash the Sprint network

Turn your Internet dial to YoYo-Dyne for the newest and best of contests. Guaranteed to benefit you and your karma, but more importantly, it benefits me.

Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy!

This week’s winner is Peter M. and The Wombies! Direct from the Great White North and Wombania come Wine Gums, a treat unknown to we in the lower 48. Just in time for Wombat Day! Get out your chocolate, wine gums, pancake batter and milkshakes on October 22nd. Meet Victor and Victoria, my adopted Wombies. FREE balloons for the kids!

You know they’re Canadian. The UPS delivery guy tumbled down the concrete steps outside repeatedly shouting Thank You Sir May I Have Another after handing over the delightful package.

Last week’s winner is Gina C from The OC! What can I say but… A full fucking pound of See’s Candy. My favorite assortment. Too bad for you folks East of the Mississippi, it’s Fanny Farmer for you.

The Beaver Babe (Gina C), Piano Wench (I AM that Wench) and Pope Dirty Bastard.

The Beaver Babe (Gina C), Piano Wench (I AM that Wench) and Pope Dirty Bastard.

Don Pardo, tell them what they’ve won!

Well Rachael, our two top contestants win this Fabulous Lazy-E Boy complete living room set! Sorry, not available to residents of Canada or California .Shipping not included.

Also, potential fame and fortune for appearing as featured guests on the Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Contest!

Last, a lifetime supply of Rice-A-Roni, the San Francisco Treat! Sent to our winners in six unwieldy enormous wooden crates. Sorry winners, shipping not included.

Rachael here with thanks to Peter and the Wombies, Gina C and all of you who have sent your good wishes and positive thoughts.

We’ll end tonight’s festivities with an interpretive dance created by me, for you.

I call it ‘The Zombie Pirate Walker Boogie!’

Thanks again and we’ll see you next week for another tingling and suspense filled episode of The Keep Rachael Voluptuous and Sexy Contest!

~Miss R

-bettie page photo courtesy of burymeinthisdress.com-

Short Note: Poems in the Key of…

You may have gotten an email earlier in the day, with a link to a post written this morning. After 5 minutes of being ‘public’ I changed it to ‘private.’

To my surprise there was a comment from a wonderful empathetic writer. Her words caused me to reconsider the public publication of the post A Poem in the Key of Depression.

Please check out her blog at Tales From the Motherland. She’s won a Freshly Pressed and is a fellow Carnie. Hell, can’t beat that with a stick. Well you could. you’d look like a cretin, but you could.

So if you’re interested, the most recent post on YoYo-Dyne is live.

A Poem In the Key of Depression

crows in rain LG

I can beat anything. Conquer anything
From intellectual pursuits to stupid bar jokes
From Music to Skiing
It’s a proven fact and my humility is obvious as you can see

Sitting on the bed
Looking at the damned walker
Thinking of the fall last week that
I told no one about. No more hospitals

Knocked me out cold and caused a concussion
Followed by the first migraine ever
Followed the next day by
Electrical shocks all through my body and numbness

Fuck you body! Fuck you disease!

The truth is kicking my ass
Trying to wrap my broken brain around something
Walking again might not happen at a 30% chance
No dancing no man to love my life a nauseating carnival ride

During the third week in the hospital
Psychosis and hallucinations had stopped
Idiot physicians had jacked me full of steroids and was allergic
Read the records last week they note Explosive Personality

Well when I was drinking and in a black-out it was true
As I read through the charts I laughed
Laughter tinged with grim thoughts
There were no notes on a previous steroid reaction

One night I wandered out to the nurse’s station
And asked for a Cabernet and a Cigarette
Don’t Drink Don’t Smoke What do You Do?
Thought I was on a spaceship. With a bar. It’s so me.

My boyfriend of three years came to visit the third week
After the cognitive functions returned
He admitted after diligent questioning and lies
He had been with another for months. My heart, will and soul crushed then.

So I looked at those paralyzed legs that day
Sitting on the hospital bed going on three weeks
Looking at that damned wheelchair
Knowing he had been cheating on me, why he had not visited but twice and quickly

The number one cause of death from TM
Is Suicide.
Not failure of the liver or respiratory system or falls
Those are the silver, bronze and runner ups

Mom calls every day
She drives from California every two weeks
She does the laundry, prepares food for the freezer
Cleans the house and brings me Fresca which is nice

No longer can I cook, clean or hold anything for long
Taking a shower is a bitch. On a chair. Like a geriatric
Please wash my hair I’m so lonely and it hurts
Feel a burden and pathetic whiner to express these words to anyone

These are my thoughts after almost three months
Working hard each day with PT exercises
Trying to take a few steps no concussion please
Never able to get on my tippy toes again

Fuck you body! Fuck you disease!

Mom called last night and asked how I was
Told her about the anger the shocks, numbness the embarrassment of the steroid reaction
The worthless neurologist with no prognosis and no advice
Exhaustion of the body soul and nerve function and tear ducts

So Mom said Be Glad you were diagnosed so quickly
So what if that steroid caused the staff to treat you as a scary diagnosed psychotic
Your boyfriend was an abusive piece of shit. There is progress. There is no longer a wheelchair
You almost lost your life

And I answered
What Life?