AMERICAN FAMILY-FRIENDLY FRUITLOOP FREEDOM FORUM
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http://www.rawlight.com/commentary_continued.html
"NOTES FROM A FAMILY MAN"
In Praise of Fruit Loops
The morning began with Fruit Loops and milk on a tablecloth
which features clumps of pineapples, bananas and oranges.
Levi has stolen a single fruit loop from the spill that wreathes
Luke's bowl.
"Give it back!" Luke demands.
This is the loss of a singular circle of cereal, something an
ant can carry alone. But now it contains all the gravity of
burglary.
"Give it back!" I tell Levi in a voice that is growly and
menacing. That dry, powdery-green fruit loop, almost as light as
air itself, can unsweeten the day with bickering, as though the
loop unwinds like a slinky into larger and larger arguments.
The loop is returned with a casual toss from our oldest. Luke
catches the dry, rolling sugar-crusted loop only to kiss it with
the wet part of his lips and offer it back to Levi. The slinky
starts to unwind now, and the potential for escalation becomes
palpable.
"Stop!" I yell, and both the children are laughing. "ABC
[Already Been Chewed] cereal, huh?" I say, catching the drift
in mood.
Jan enters while the boys munch. It's much too early this
morning for a woman whose ideas fester when the sun passes its
zenith.
I am the fruit loop in the morning, too often waking the family
with unwanted cheer, kissing sleeping cheeks over and over like
a happy puppy while the yellow from the sun lengthens sideways
along the walls of the house. "The sun is born daily"says Dylan
Thomas and isn't that right and doesn't somebody have to be
there to watch it? Ideas fester for me in the dark before
morning.
Were the house to say something, it would show off its marvels
placed there by Jan. The interior space is our ritual
environment, only here it's celebrated with fruit loops for our
Eucharist. Only days before did we hear from a visitor that our
house gave her rest. With our home's adobe-red colored walls, I
have often thought about it as a "womb with a view."
But all humor aside, what could be better than a place for rest,
where one can kiss a fruit loop and offer it to others?
by Jerry Sedgewick, copyright 2003
SELECTIONS:
"ANIMALS IN MY HEAD"
Sodium Vapor
And then I am a moth. Dry and dusty and luminous are my wings
when backlit and rimmed by golden orange lamps. Never do I hover
near the ground, near the hairless insects that crawl and teem
under sticks. They are nourishment for greedy birds and hungry
soil.
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21. Toucan Sam vs. Sonny
"I have to get my Fruit Loops back! Your going down! ... Notice
when his cereal is stolen by an alien or by the Queen of Hearts,
he always needs YOUR help. .
fnfights.tripod.com/cerealbird.html
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http://ralst.com/DejaVu.HTM
What?" Colonel O'Neill placed his spoonful of Fruit Loops back
into his bowl. "You don't remember what you just said?"
"No, it's not that..."
"We've done this before," Sam finished for him.
"What?" Jack asked.
"This."
"Eating breakfast?" Jack cocked his eyebrow.
"Yes," Daniel looked around. "I mean, no."
"We eat breakfast every morning. It's a nutritious start to
having a great day."
"No." Sam could feel the frustration building within. "Not
breakfast, per se, but this breakfast. You and the bowl of Fruit
Loops you never eat. Daniel blathering on about nothing."
"Wait, I get it now. I thought I'm supposed to be the one who
tries finagle out of briefings. Not you two."
"We're not finagling out of anything."
"Damn straight you're not," Jack stood up from the table,
motioning with his arms as he walked. "Let's go."
The two slowly stood from their chairs to follow O'Neill.
"I do not blather."
"Yes, you do."
"Do not."
"God," O'Neill turned to the squabbling co-workers. "Don't make
me turn this car around."
They entered the Briefing Room. General Hammond sat at his usual
place, thumbing through Sam's report. Teal'c was sitting in his
usual spot, elbows on the table, thumbs interlaced together.
Sam slid into her chair. She glanced at Daniel who visibly
showed his puzzlement.
"Major Carter," Hammond gestured towards her report. "What do
you have for us?"
"About what?"
"P4X639."
"We did that already."
"Excuse me?" Hammond stared at the woman as if she'd grown a
third eye.
"Oh boy, not again," O'Neill groaned aloud.
Daniel ignored him, leaning over the table. "Solar activity that
Sam wants to set up a remote observatory?" He asked as if they
already knew the answer.
"And we did it," Sam added.
"No we didn't," O'Neill reminded the two, again.
"Yes," Sam stated through clenched teeth. "We did."
Hammond shared a confused look with O'Neill. "No, that's what
this meeting is about."
"That's just it, Sir; We've already done this briefing. We've
been to the planet."
"Major Carter," Hammond interrupted. "I'm having a hard time
believing this."
"SG-12!" Daniel blurted out.
"That's right," Sam picked up on his thoughts. "They return
today."
"No teams are scheduled to return until next week."
On cue, the alarm sounded, cutting off the General's sentence.
The sounds of the gate opening filled the room.
They all followed Hammond as he hurried towards the Gate Room. A
technician sat at the controls. "We have an unscheduled incoming
traveler, Sir."
"Any word on who it is?"
The tech deciphered the data coming across on his screen. "It's
SG-12, Sir."
Sam stared at the event horizon, her eyes taking a slightly
faraway glaze. "One of them will be injured."
They all stared at the Gate. One by one, soldiers exited the
wormhole, single file, then, three more, the two on the outside
holding up the man in the middle as he hobbled on one leg.
Hammond turned towards SG-1, a finger jabbing at them like a
dagger.
"You two, Infirmary, now."
Malaki...," Daniel trailed, collecting his thoughts. "We were by
the altar. Then, the Stargate started activating. There was this
really weird light coming from it."
"And then we were back in the Mess Hall with O'Neill eating
Fruit Loops staring dumbfounded at Daniel."
General Hammond entered the Infirmary. He stopped next to
Fraiser. Janet sighed, a puzzled expression on her face.
"Well, Sir, I can't find anything wrong with them. Now we'll
have to wait for the lab results to be sure but they both appear
to be in perfect health."
O'Neill crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "Yeah,
except for the whole knowing things before they happen."
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http://www.amazon.com/Are-We-Having-Fun-Yet/dp/1560971495
While strolling through Bushmiller country one day, I came
across a copy of "Are We Having Fun Yet?" As I pondered the
three rocks in Ernie's yard, I realized, in a Fruit-Loops-
inspired deja-vu, that I had owned this book before, but it had
vanished from my life, like a memory of Loni Anderson's hair.
Where else can you find postmodern irony laced with Zen hot
sauce, accompanied by a large helping of neo-dada ratatouille
simmered in post-existential angst? Zippy will be your waiter
this evening.
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32. Talk To Action | Reclaiming Citizenship, History, and Faith
The Woman in A Mink Coat While We Were sleeping Angels On a
Pinhead Under Cover of Night ... Becket Fund founder Kevin
Hasson authoritatively said, causing me to choke on my Fruit
Loops .
www.talk2action.org/story/2007/6/14/151528/572
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. Should 'language' be an issue for us?
HisCovenant/ Zipporah My friends call me Zippy! ... filthy, I am
just saying we should not go to the other extreme and talk like
fruit loops ..
forums.christianity.com/Should_'language'_
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33. The Chalcedon Foundation - Faith for All of Life
... serve to reinforce those core beliefs in a vicious loop of ...
Like Zipporah (Ex. 4:25) these seeker pastors of postmodernity ...
The fruit does not belong to them. It is the property o.
www.chalcedon.edu/blog/2006/03/church-and-culture....
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25. Funny Paper by Scocca & MacLeod | 10/3/2001
ZIPPY: Zippy talks to Bibendum, the Michelin Man. But Bill
Griffith doesn't use his ... Still, he wants a few things from
his no-good "fruit loop" of a son. .
www.citypaper.com/comics/story.asp?id=5258
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24. Bible (American Standard)/Exodus - Wikisource
25 Then Zipporah took a flint, and cut off the foreskin of her
son, and cast it ... every herb of the land, and all the fruit
of the trees which the hail had left: .
en.wikisource.org/wiki/Bible_(American_Standard)/E...
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19. Pope says Iraq war threatens humanity
... from the Vatican inner circle. The Pope is out of the loop ...
Jesus said, "A tree is known by its fruit." Well, the fruit ...
Zipporah .
www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/872017/posts
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58. Bob's Duke Nukem Single-Player Archive
Duke was about to enjoy some Fruit Loops when EDF called, asking
him to kick the ... is a top secret project guarding a stolen
alien transporter portal (above, right) .
www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Chasm/7733/archive1
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. Flickr: Photos from Crystl
Flickr is almost certainly the best online photo management and
sharing ... Caleb made this necklace with one hundred fruit
loops on the 100th day of school .
flickr.com/photos/crystalflickr/page80/
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http://maze8.gaia.com/blog/2007/12/quick_rule_of_thumb
I'm thinking that the fruit loop may be inching its way towards
extinction. And I'm not quite sure if any of you who may be
reading this have ever even heard of a fruit loop to begin with.
It may be a Bailey and Delavan, Buffalo, NY sort of term from
the late fifties and early sixties. And even saying that, it may
be a term that was limited to a certain small clique of possibly
no more than ten people. The fruit loop was that little loop
that was on the back of most oxford shirts. I suppose some folks
actually used the loop to hang their shirts on some hook in a
closet. In my house, if you didn't put stuff on a hanger you got
yelled at. And if you wore it once, you had better just throw it
down the clothes chute.Shirts have to be put on clean. And if
you wear a dress shirt, you better have an undershirt on too. A
T -shirt catches sweat and covered massive hairy chests. The
girls in my neighborhood had this weird thing going on with
these silly ass fruit loops. When they would see one they would
run up to you and yell fruit loop and stick their finger in
there and give it a pull and yank off the loop. At times their
yank was too aggressive and they tore the shirt a bit. And that
of course didn't bode well with mom. What happened to your shirt?
I went to an all boys catholic high school and we had to wear a
sport coat and shirt and tie to school every day. So all the
while this fruit loop craze was taking place, I just left my
sport coat on while I was at Connie's restaurant in the mornings
to meet and chat with all the gals that went to the all girls
catholic school just a couple blocks away from where all us boys
went to school. I don't miss the loops as much as I miss a true
33 inch sleeve. And the girls...yeah they were cute...but a
little rambunctious. I loved every moment of it....except when
I had to explain stuff to my mom.
WhooHoo Maze,
Thanks for the trip down memory lane with the Fruit Loops. All
the cool guys had Oxford Cloth Button Down shirts, Not only
popular in Buffalo, but just down the road in the Niagara
District (Canadian side). And to go with the Fruit Loops there
were Fruit Boots (white bucks worn by guys a la Pat Boone). The
guys who wore those shirts and shoes were called Fruits, Fairies,
or Gear Boxes.(not politically correct)
And yes, it was true, that no guy would go out without an
undershirt under his white dress shirt - probably the equivalent
of a woman going braless.
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13. www.humournet.com
Couple of Fruit Loops shy of a full bowl. One taco short of a
combination plate. ... Too pointless to even be called a pinhead.
Took the little bus to school.
www.humournet.com/misc.humour/full_deckisms.txt
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c. The Katywompus Journal
At a corner table located conveniently close to the canister of
Fruit Loops, sat two ... Now and then, sharing long, stolen
glances at their son. And then there were all those .
www.hedge.org/powerpage/katywompus80.htm
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http://brokenlittleperson.blogspot.com/
Reflections of melancholy and despair
When six people are squeezed into the 'Das Boot'-like confines
of a minivan for 30+ hours, one should refrain from utilizing
spray cologne inside of the minivan lest he spray not only
himself but every other person, item, and inch of the minivan
interior. This is particularly important to remember if the
afore-mentioned cologne (even if it does bear the markings of '
Old Spice' on the label) brings to mind the dichotomous sweet
and sour aroma of a tarted-up courtesan eating Fruit Loops and
playing a robust game of fetch with a wet, longhaired dog while
in a tepid swamp.
And so closes the tome that shall come to be known as 'Wacky
Road Trip IV'. Stay tuned for the chronicles of 'Wacky Plane
Trip I - Viva Las Vega
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