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In full season

Today I took my 9-month-old "boxer" mix rescue puppy to Columns Drive for his very first walk along the river. He was extremely distracted by literally every single thing. Squirrels (obviously), bikers, runners, walkers, dogs.  One guy brought a pretty spaniel looking dog by and smiled at me and said, "she is in full season."  Moose and I stared at him stupidly for a few. After she stood up on her front two paws and backed that thing up to Moose's face (who doesn't love a party trick!!) I slowly realized that "in full season" is a posh way of saying she's in heat.  After watching her for a minute I realized she was likely ovulating. Like RIGHT NOW. Moose continued to stare at her stupidly. I felt a mix of pride and shame.  I told the guy that Moose had been neutered and that her offerings were going to fall short of inspiring anything of note. He smugly said "that's what the guy down the river said...but after a minute, his dog remembe
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Road tripping

OMG...has it REALLY been over a year and a half since I wrote anything here?! I just got an email from a cousin who mentioned this blog and at first I didn't even know what the hell she was talking about.Guess I've been busy with the family and work. Not to mention all of that critical facebooking that I do. We had two massive roadtrips this summer, which made me think about playing Bingo for the first time in my adult life. My personal favorite box, "Car smells like a mix of feet, farts and French fries." I've never read a more apt description. was YOUR summer?? 

Anatomy of a Snow Day in the South

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First impressions are important, yo.

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From the mouths of babes....

I was in the car today with my three kids, ages 3, 8 and 10. The three year old announced that his "penis hurts...and it's getting bigger!" He wanted me to help it. "No-can-do, Buddy...that's illegal, even in Georgia. Just give it time, leave it alone and it will go down on its own." About 10 minutes later one of my daughters exclaimed, "Oh NOOO!!!" Naturally interested, I asked what was wrong. She said, "I lost a fart!" When I asked her what the hell she meant by that, she said that she "...pooted, but it turned into a bubble and went up the front and didn't come back out." So if any of y'all want to know why I have a cocktail every night at five SHARP, now you know.

The Roof! The Roof! The Roof is on FIRE....

Today is 9/9/9. And all I can think about are flame-retardant pajamas. What the hell is up with this?! I realize that some poor little kids must have been in a house fire where their pj's went up in flames. That's horrible (and totally not funny so I'm gonna quit talking about it right...NOW.). But do children really have to, until the end of time, sleep in weird, sweaty fabrics that boast "Flame Retardant!" on their labels??! And what, exactly, does "flame retardant" mean? I realize that it probably won't go off like a roman candle if exposed to a spark, but what happens if fire gets on it? Does it melt?? That probably wouldn't feel good, either, Folks. My 8 year old has begun sleeping in her daddy's t-shirts because they are just regular old cotton. That's all kids want - some normal cotton jammy's that don't make them sweat so much that they have recurring dreams that they're stuck under a waterfall that feels like damp

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I have a strange affinity for Reggaeton music, which has me, at times, listening to Hispanic radio stations. This morning was no exception. I don't speak Spanish so I have no idea what the hell the announcers are saying...but I imagine that the DJ's are dressed up like clowns like on the Spanish TV. The guys are almost always fat and love to make wild and sometimes suggestive facial gestures. The women either are beautiful and curvy or look like a prison warden with makeup. Anyhoo, this morning they were playing a cool song and then when it ended, the crazy (Muy LOCO!!!) announcers took over. It sounded something like this: Labbadda labbadda....LabbaaaaaDAAA!!! [cue the canned laughter] Blah blah blah....Michael Jackson .... blah blah blah...labbadda....... ....esta...Wacko Yacko.... I finally figure out that I was listening to the "zany" morning crew discuss the Michael Jackson funeral coverage. So much for my self-imposed moratorium on the subject today. Does any