Tag Archive: humor



The bed has a four thousand-dollar sinkhole. That’s okay because it’s made from organic cotton, and the latest luxury foam, so I am told,


And sold: A designer’s name assumed, heaven, on a medal base.


I maneuver precariously around its mountainsides searching a comfortable groove.


Around the clock I go: right hip connected to backbone, shoulder blade connected to neck bone, tailbone—with [all] its rattled nerves—sinks. . .a painful groin!


I’ve purchased the softest sheets to forget. Four varieties of pillows travel the night, side-to-side, over and back, onto a stomach hungering for dreams. Finally to the dead-asleep floor, useless!


I do not like to sleep in a box, or with a fox, but I’m sure it would be more comfortable—


Sheep come in the night and gawk with sinister smiles. The leader is confident, and possesses a salesperson’s face. Going over contracts and stipulations, I cry, “Baaah-baaah…. The gaping hole was not included!”


Still, I’m paying sales tax for it beyond a hundred day comfort guarantee.


Suddenly, I am terribly itchy. Duped—If only I had the recourse to shear those taunting wooly animals. I’d embarrass them like they have me—


Stripping them of their assets!


Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2017 All Rights Reserved





At what point do you completely lose your mind from not sleeping? It’s been many months. At first it was insomnia, and I’ve heard others suffering from it as well, for one reason or another. Then I decided I would try a new mattress to see if it would help. It was not necessarily in my budget at the moment but I figured I work hard enough and deserve a good night’s sleep. I thought there’s financing. Maybe it was a remedy, at least in part. This was decided after sixteen years on a beautiful, luscious, Kingsdown bed, the Rolls Royce of mattresses that had finally given in somewhat on one side. In retrospect I wish I’d kept my old reliable mattress even with its hip indent. After all it was my perfectly comfortable-uncomfortable hip indent that took sixteen years to form perfectly around my curves. Still, I set out on a mission.

By suggestion of the salesperson I ended up in an all memory-foam Serta-iComfort bed. It certainly was a downgrade from what I was accustomed to, but with big dreams of sinking into a deep slumber, I took the salesperson’s advise. That was bed number one returned by way of a one-hundred-night-comfort guarantee because I figure I definitely work too hard to have to haul myself from a ditch-like sinkhole each time I roll over in my sleep. Let’s just say I have bad memories of memory foam!

The next salesperson on the floor eagerly showed me a combination bed of coils and memory foam. It’s the newest in bedding technology. I’ve learned that they are phasing-out coil. Take it from my aching-back this is a bad phase! Bed number two was returned on the same one-hundred-night-comfort guarantee but now with the, “Good luck lady we don’t want to see you around here again, clause!”

The manager was in when I chose bed number three. He wasn’t long on patience for me. He explained to me while I perused the bed selection for the third time that the new bed I was choosing on my own without sales associate influence, that happened to be coil (I’m keen on coil) and with a lovely pillow-top, was unacceptable because it was less in price. I was unfortunately married into meeting the same price or higher. After bouncing from bed to bed like, The Princess and the Pea, with a story similar to, The Three Bears…This bed is too hard, this bed is too soft, this bed isn’t in my price range… Anthony, the sales guy gave-up and went to help someone else. He left me with another, “Just as unhappy and sleepy lady,” to decide, along with her husband dragging his heels, as if through memory foam through the store, while we searched for true pleasure in bed, i.e., comfortable sleep!

This lady that had quickly become my best-bed-buddy, and I, laid on different beds together, intimately, side-by-side facing one another weighing in on our feelings about their cushioning, support, “rollability” (we made that term-up to describe rolling over without so much effort that your groin and lower back should have to go out) and at the same time we snickered about Anthony.
Together, we decided that the, Laura Ashley organic cotton all foam bed, but a different type of foam without memory (it doesn’t allow you to sink), was heavenly! Meanwhile, her husband decided we were both crazy. He also decided it was too expensive for them to purchase, unlike Anthony who liked it very much for me because it was an upgrade in price, and he suddenly became interested in me and my detailed description about bed comfort again.

My best-bed-buddy left and wished me a good night’s sleep. I miss her as I lay here awake at 2:00, 3:00, 4:00 a.m. in the morning, still uncomfortable, and thinking of my $4,100 finance stress, and of Anthony, and how he may react to me walking through the door complaining again. I dream of my old bed when I can sleep, of how it cradled me in coils of happiness.

I think like Dorothy now, “If ever I go searching for my heart’s desire, I won’t look further than my own backyard,” or hip indent in this case. Zzzzz…

Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2017 All Rights Reserved


I have a good heart!


I show respect and gentleness towards all living things, except for of course, Centipedes, large-hairy-spiders, or water bugs. They have me stomping to kill, send me running screaming in disgust, and no matter what Buddha says, I find no love for these creatures! Blick… They don’t even have a word for describing.

So, it’s summer in Long Beach on a beautiful, sunny Tuesday.  I’m thankful.  Last October we suffered an awful hurricane, Sandy, that among a thousand negative things, seems to have stirred up the bug colonies under the soil. It’s certainly average to see a Beatle, from time to time, get into the house, and ants in spring, or after a good rain can become a nuisance. Try however, a Beatle in bed with you on three separate occasions and nuisance quickly becomes Insectophobia! Yeah, it’s been at least five weeks since one of my companions has come to spend the night with me but be that as it may, I still go to sleep with cotton in my ears every night since my nephew explained their hankering for building nests in one’s ear cana! Thank you.

When for the first time I saw the little ants in my bathroom I didn’t like it but accepted their misguided steps, and asked them kindly to leave and find a puddle. They weren’t ready to reason with me.

Notice in the below video all of the beauty, the calming sound of flutes, and most importantly that none of these creatures are in my home, Buddha.


Anyone that knows me will tell you my home is immaculate. I don’t like dirt and everything is organized, so frankly, bugs are an insult.

Now, I tried to follow Buddha’s example and absolutely did everything within reason to peacefully, lovingly, escort these stubborn bastards from my home!

Today, I woke up and while preparing my coffee and refilling a sugar bowl, I found an ant colony having a party in my baking goods!  I swear they were dancing and I could hear salsa music. Well, let’s just say that I went from Buddha (or trying to be) to Al Pacino, in his character as Tony in Scarface, in seconds flat!  THAT’S RIGHT, YOU WANNA PLAY? SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND!

Raid, a wet mop, smashing guts, all with bedhead and a pre-coffee attitude, I declared victory!  A most sinister snarl came across my face and I said,  “That’s right, you’re gonna die here! Tell all your friends!

I could hear the chanting of peaceful, loving of all creatures, souls, in the far distance taking pity on my lost sanity.