Sybil Bruncheon's HOLLYWOOD HULLA-BALLOO!... Coming soon!... a BETTY BOOP movie!!

Yes, folks and fans of the irrepressible Boop-Boop-Be-Doop Girl, a film devoted totally to Betty is in the works at the studios!... the problem is which studio will release theirs first!... and WHAT will it be about? Some of the proposals are listed below;

1) MGM is proposing a lavish blockbusting musical where Betty, a sweet, young, misunderstood girl from Poka-Ma-Hola, Iowa, is under attack by Shawnee Indians in her shabby but immaculate farmhouse when a tornado carries her off to a land of midgets, witches, and yodeling giraffes. Dancing vegetables and an overly friendly banana add mischief and merriment... followed by an uplifting message of redemption and family values as the music swells at the final fadeout. (Possible casting choices include Burt Lahr as Koko the Clown, and Linda Hunt as a "little person".)

2) Warner is finished with a script where Betty, caught behind enemy lines, smuggles Jewish, Bulgarian, and carny-show orphans out of a vaudeville academy to safety somewhere in the USA, possibly Poka-Ma-Hola, Nebraska. Disguising them all as merry midgets in her own touring musical review, she happens to run into her former great-love-that-got-away who is now the resentful-but-successful impresario of a dinner theatre in Bundt-kaka, Hungary. Their romance is swiftly rekindled, and he moves Heaven and Earth to get Betty and 316 orphans out of the country disguised as a giant millipede during a county fair 4H Club jamboree. Mischief, merriment, and machine gun fire ensue... followed by an uplifting message of redemption and family values as the music swells at the final fadeout. (Possible casting choices include the Mormon Tabernacle choir as the orphans.)

3) Universal Pictures is about to start filming a terrifying horror film where Betty Boop is transformed through exposure to atomic radiation, sound-waves from a distant planet, and defective Valentine's chocolates into a snarling, drooling, Medusa-creature!!... right in front of the Girl Scout troop she den-mothers for in a place called Poka-Ma-Hola, Indiana! Needless to say, the young girls are terrified, especially when she eats three or four of them, sashes and all. Crowds of torch-bearing villagers, mobs of pitchfork-waving farmers, and a smallish gang of circus-jugglers hurling spoiled vegetables manage to chase Betty to the haunted castle on the hill where a formerly insane mad-scientist has, through prayer and bathing in llama-milk, become a kindly old yoga-instructor. He cures Betty of her monstrousness, and the crowds of enraged citizens are won over to mercy and forgiveness... fortunately, the girls that Betty killed and ate were orphans and therefore not missed by any family members... the end is an uplifting message of redemption and family values as the music swells at the final fadeout. (Possible casting choices include John Carradine and all his sons as dancing skeletons.)

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Sybil Bruncheon's "I Know I'm Older Than Dirt, But..."

As you get older, do various things just stick in your craw?? They do for me! Here are a couple of mine, and I invite you to post some of your own too...

1) People who insist on clapping during a conversation at the next table to emphasize their agreement or amusement at the idiot-story they're sharing! This is also often accompanied by foot-stomping and table-top banging!!! Also, laughing or rather "BLAT-laughing" as a conversational statement... no one has said anything funny, but they insist on laughing as if to say, "Oh, I so agree!". HA-HAA-HAAAAA!!!!!... as a comma. And then the ultimate, usually perpetrated by a bevy of "Karens" or pubescent girls; deafening shrieking as a greeting in a very public place; the café, the mall, the lobby of a building, a subway car, a funeral!.... AAAAAAEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIAAAAAHHHHHH! So everyone around can experience, "HEYYYYY! LOOK AT ME AND MY GANG OF MORONS! WE'RE SO HAPPY TO BE THE CENTER OF YOUR UNIVERSE!"....

I know I'm older than dirt, but... ok, post your own...

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Sybil Bruncheon’s “Seeing Is Believing… or is it?”...

Which of these is the correct explanation for this photo?

1) On the plant Gzzoolxton, naughty children are sent outdoors for a “time-out” as punishment. Interestingly, the term “time-out” is literal because the child is left outside for one of the interdimensional flying saucers to come by and take them to a parallel universe for several centuries… although they will still be back home in time for dinner… and a spanking.

2) Eugene Carpathy suffered from koinoniphobia: Fear of rooms! Yes, there IS an actual phobia for rooms! Can you believe it?... Oddly, Eugene only “developed” koinoniphobia after his uncle Frank asked him to repaint his four bedroom house… Frank got suspicious too when Eugene struggled with pronouncing “koinoniphobia”. He said “going-onion-phon-onia”.

3) Citizens of Badel-Badel, Hungary have a very compassionate health care system in place. No person is ever denied medical attention no matter what the malady or their financial situation. On the other hand, sometimes the treatment for various illnesses might be very similar. Fear of heights, caffeine withdrawal, willful sullenness, and chronic depression are all lumped under one “cure”… the patient is seated on a steel plate near a copper antenna rigged with yards of wire to wait for the next lightning strike… happily, there is only a nominal copay…

4) In San Souci, France, the Existential Festival on Albert Camus’ birthday was a time of yawning, sighing, staring into space, and the reciting of poetry that didn’t rhyme, usually by oneself or possibly while looking into a mirror if one wanted company. The promoters thought about marketing the weekend “Camus-Con”… but wondered… what’s the point?

5) Filbert’s incessant and deafening yodeling had completely emptied the town… Pastor Helgar dropped by to say goodbye before he left on the bus for Akron.

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From Sybil Bruncheon’s Merry Memoirs: Game Show Goofiness!

True Story! As professional and well-loved as the late Alex Trebek was on television’s iconic Jeopardy, there were apparently episodes which were shelved for any number of reasons. One in particular occurred during a game-show writers’ strike where Trebek and a late-night (and possibly drunk!) crew of cleaning staff decided to write the material for the next show… here are the topics that they surprised the players, the studio audience, and the sponsors with at show time! You decide…

1) PURPLE CLOTHING ITEMS,

2) OBLONG FRUITS AND VEGETABLES AND THEIR MISUSE BY CHILDREN,

3) FAMOUS PEOPLE EATEN BY CANNIBALS,

4) PRESIDENTS WITH SECRET BIZARRE HOBBIES,

5) ACTRESSES WITH MEN’S NAMES,

6) MEN WITH ACTRESSES’ NAMES,

7) DOGS AND CATS AND THEIR RECIPES,

8) PLANETS IN OTHER PARTS OF THE UNIVERSE,

9) FURNITURE THAT TALKS,

10) LINT

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Sybil Bruncheon's "A Simple Request"...

When I die, which is unfortunate, (but necessary!), I have the following requests to be fulfilled by my dear friends...

1] That the funeral ceremony itself should be kept to three acts, and certainly no more than five! If Shakespeare could tell his wonderful stories like HAMLET, A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM, and CORIOLANUS in five, I think it will appear that I'm filled with hubris to request an entire weekend-long cycle of recitatives, epic poem readings, interpretive dance and contortionist performances (with or without full nudity), pie eating and throwing contests, bizarre miming with quarrelsome pets, and juggling (possibly with sharp and/or burning objects).

2] That only the most attractive photographs of me be posted around the stadium (or wherever the funeral is held to contain the expected crowd) and that said-photos never be the candid ones of me bending over to dry myself fresh from the tub, eating difficult food items often from far-off countries where only Andrew Zimmer and Anthony Bourdain would eat, and finally, that set of "French post cards" I modeled for when things got particularly tight during my blacklisting in Hollywood... (Senator Joe McCarthy can go f*uck himself!)

3] Concerning the above, the "attractive" photos should be published in the hard-bound and leather trimmed funeral-program to be (forcibly!) sold to all the attendees of the funeral... $29.95... not a bad price for a 312 page volume!... especially autographed by the deceased! If enough people complain about the price, I suppose we could do a paperback version of it, but WITHOUT autographs!

4] During the breaks between the acts, when the gourmet delicacies and dinner courses are being served, there should be an open mic or perhaps several mics for guests to feel free (or pressured!) to tell cheerful and even inspiring anecdotes of my life, my talent, my physical beauty, and any stories of me saving orphans, kittens, or houseplants from devastating fires, earthquakes, or banking malfeasance.

5] The decorations and dress code should, of course, be black... but with cheerful pops of color, perhaps in boutonnieres for the men and wrist corsages for the ladies... or perhaps BOTH for the gender-fluid or reassigned mourners! (Please! No baby’s breath!) The wait-staff should be dressed in white jackets and ties so as not to confuse the guests during beverage and hors d'oeuvres service... and later during the sit-down banquets!

 6] All music both as performances during the various acts and in the background of the meals (or in the elevators) should be of an uplifting nature whether profoundly sad or raucous and even bawdily entertaining! Classical pieces, Broadway show-tunes, and sailor shanties are all welcome, especially accompanied by ballet, adagio, apache-dancing, and tap breaks! Again, partial or total nudity is permissible if it enhances the message of the musical piece. (A small stipend has been set aside for performances by outsiders who are only "guesting" at the funeral and are not actual mourners! Equity guidelines are in place... and will be strictly enforced! We can't have various show-persons hoping to take advantage of a tragic occasion to profit!)

7] At the end of the entire funeral pageant, we can politely (but firmly!) ask all the guests to please fold their chairs and stack them neatly against the walls in an orderly fashion to help the overworked wait-staff with their clean-up. A funeral that size will require at least two or three days of clean-up, and I won't have my legacy be that working people were disadvantaged or traumatized by my passing. Besides, depending on where my funeral is held, there might be other bookings or rentals to follow almost immediately: 4H Jamborees, county fairs and livestock shows, demolition derbies, or public executions.

8] During the public funeral procession to the cemetery, the crowds of mourners behind the 22-horse-drawn (highly decorated!) funeral carriage should not only openly cry, but also laugh, (loudly!) to emphasize my ability at comedy! I would prefer that they hold and read from small pamphlets of my writings and wave them in the air as they pass the hundreds of onlookers... if they laugh and point at the carriage, it may convey the wrong idea of my passing. Just a thought.

9] At the cemetery, it should be revealed that, as a surprise bonus for my guests, the coffin should not only be open, but that it should be doused with gasoline and set on fire, and that Mummie has decided to be a giant hibachi for an after-funeral barbecue! (Public cremation will also make our Indian friends and any ancient Romans feel a certain welcome to the festivities!) Square dancing, jug bands, hog-calling, and all sorts of barnyard merriment should thoroughly remove all the typical funeral-dreariness from the day (or early evening by that point!) Guests can either change into outdoor and festive attire... or disrobe completely! For vegetarian and vegan guests, a selection of kabobs should be offered. Everyone else can eat barbecued pork, chicken, sausages, beef, lamb, goat... but with their hands. There's no need at this point to drive the expense of the funeral up with fine china, silverware, and linens. Half of them are show-people anyway... they won't know the difference!

10] … and finally, please make sure to film the entire thing... every moment, every nuance, and in all the locations!... Just in case there IS some sort of after-life, I should like very much to watch it again and again and again to know that someone actually noticed I had been there at all... and wasn't anymore. In any event; don't be sad! Death will have come for me as an old and comforting friend. I thank you.

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From Sybil Bruncheon’s Merry Memoirs: It's all relative... or... whatever...

Helen Keller once said, “I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.”…

... well… I once cried because I had no mittens, and then I passed a man who had no thumbs. He couldn't tie his shoes, or button his shirt, or... uh... well, take care of... "business", and he happened to have been extremely well-built and handsome... and ...well, I struck up a conversation with him, and we... uh... hit it off. I treated us to lunch at a local cafe just outside the alley we met in, and we went off together to a cheap roadside hotel for a long weekend of rough sex and scintillating conversation! You know the type. Anyway, I decided to take him home, but on the way, as he put his big arm around me and stared into my eyes, he asked me why I was crying. I said, "Because I have no mittens.".... he stopped, turned me to face him and said as sweetly as possible, "But Sybil.... It's July...."

(Portrait by Olan Montgomery)

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Sybil Bruncheon's Stories For Young Scientists…

Boys and Girls! Did you know that there have been other solar eclipses at other times and in different places?? For instance, at Prendergast Point, Idaho, at the Our Lady of Merciful Miasmas Laying-In Hospital, the nursing staff took a short break on the afternoon of June 17th, 1921. Being educated and extremely scientific ladies, they had prepared thoroughly for this "once-in-a-lifetime opportunity"….. as the sky darkened and all conversation quieted, the girls marveled at the other phenomenon surrounding the event.

The birds stopped singing, crickets and other night-time creatures began to hum, and the famous "chilly breeze" passed over them as the moon's shadow crossed the globe…. the extraordinary mystery and stillness of the event was suddenly broken by old Mr. Gregoire, the janitor from the 4th floor who thought it would be funny to bombard the earnest ladies with stolen pastries from the cafeteria! "Moon pies!", he shrieked! 'Moon Pies! MOON PIES!!!", and as if that wasn't shock enough for the screaming and frosting-covered ladies, he proceeded to pull down his overalls only inches from their gaping faces and expose his 68 year old buttocks to them…. Cries of, "My eyes! MY EYES!!!" filled the courtyard of the hospital as medical staff came running….

The papers reported that this was yet another instance of a temporary madness which seems to follow solar eclipses as they occur. No charges were filed, although Mr. Gregoire was given a topical ointment to alleviate an unsightly pimple condition…

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Sybil Bruncheon's "People In Poetry!"... A Wedding Day...

Mimsy knelt at her sister’s feet, so proud and glad, you see.

For Myra was to be a bride, and married off to Lee.

“The eldest daughter leads the way”, their Mother sagely said.

“No other girl may marry till the oldest girl has wed.”

 

While Mimsy knelt, dear Flora Sue kissed Myra on the cheek.

Not yet her chance to run away, a honeymoon to seek.

She had her eyes on Carlton Drubb, an up and coming Clerk,

Whose Father owned a notions shop and forced him there to work.

 

And Stacy Sue, there on the right, tried on her sister’s veil.

The youngest of the Fernley girls, her fancies didn’t fail.

She dreamt of Princes, Shahs, and Kings, or maybe just a duke.

She’d even settle for a judge wearing a high peruke.

 

But Mimsy, Flora, ‘n’ Stacy Sue, just didn’t seem to note

That Myra sat in her bridal gown, her thoughts all so remote.

Her feverish brain was filled with fears and riddled through with dread.

A week of nightly terrors that concerned her marriage bed.

 

To tell the truth, our Bride-to-be had never played the bride

In childhood games with other girls, she even sometimes cried!

And kissing boys behind the barn had nearly made her sick.

Their rough and stupid manners, their intellects so thick!

 

Now here she was, a grown-up girl, compelled to play the game.

The game that every woman knows or else to live in shame.

Be a wife, and be polite. Eventually bear a child.

And cook and clean and bake a cake… Or always be reviled.

 

So Myra stared now straight ahead, to a dreary, weary life.

Of baby showers and diaper dirt as Lee’s so pretty wife.

But walking in right through the door was her school chum Clara-Ann!

Their eyes did meet, they shared a kiss, and off the two girls ran!

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Sybil Bruncheon’s “I Had A Dream”...

… Breaking News from the CNN News Desk:
Donald Trump has been killed in a fiery car crash involving a Good Humor truck and 400lbs of Creamsicles. He awakens in a strange bedroom with all the doors and windows bricked over and no exits. On the side table is a copy of Jean Paul Sartre's play "Huis Clos". The lines for Joseph Garcin are underlined with a note saying Trump should learn them immediately... or not... whatever. Suddenly, from under the bed, Sarah Huckabee and Kellyanne Conway climb out and reveal that they are to play the roles of Inès Serrano and Estelle Rigault... or not... whatever. The role of the Valet is to be played by Mike Pence... who doesn't show up. There is an increasing smell of sulfur and farts along with extreme heat, and muffled laughter coming from inside the walls... or possibly mooing. The voice of Rod Serling is heard explaining that no, this is not a dream... and it's permanent. Whatever.

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Another Sybil Bruncheon Mini-Murder-Mystery... (for the short-attention-span crowd!)...

..."And it was there in the Library, M'Lord, that Lady Grenelle hid the beheaded corpse of her adoring husband for two days, even as she hosted a fox-hunting weekend for several of their friends! It was only when the body began to deteriorate, that it was found by the parlor maid in the log basket they had purchased on safari in Rhodesia… or was it Akron?"… The End.

This program was brought to you by a grant from the Minimal Reading & Thinking Council, the Moroni C. Unabelmann Trust, and by viewers like you! Thank you!

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