4 Posts

Goodness, I just realized I made 4 posts without using the word fuck.

I must remedy that tomorrow.

Haagen Dazs Before or After Exercising?

That was the question that plauged me last night. I wondered - would I burn more calories during my half an hour on the eliptical if I ate the ice cream before or after exercise.

I sat and pondered the answer as I ate a bowl of it covered in hotfudge and a banana. Hell, the banana offset the calories right?

Right?

Yep, that is what I thought.

Fred, Fred, Fred

Look at poor Fred. He loves the mud and he scraped most of the hair off his face between his eyes the other week in the stall assing around with Squirrel on the other side. I am not sure where he found that level of mud (see how dry the ground is). And he really does have a bridle path, but his mane is so crazy he would never know it. He is loving being a pasture ornament lately and has been babysitting Squirrel who LOVES to torment him. That's her down there below. She is a mess as well - I think she could move to Jamaca Maaan with all the dread locks in her mane. She is enjoying being a baby, but she is starting to look all grown up lately. The saddle is calling her name. The young man that is going to put 60 days on her asked me today if I have managed to get a saddle on her yet. Ummmm, nope, she hadn't even been brushed this Spring yet. LOL

I Have Noticed

Lookie, lookie - my third post in a week's time. Holy googly, moogly. It is frightening!!!


To the topic above: There are some things I have noticed lately - what with the hubby away during the weeks. The most significant being that the house smells very different when he is not here. Seriously, seriously different - and by different I mean better. Honestly, I have been with the man for 22 years (20 of them living together) and up until now I did not realize how much he farts and shits and just overall stinks up the house. Goodness, gracious. It is amazing indeed.

And then there is the matter of the hangers. Yep, hangers in the closet that forever seem to end up in the bottom of the closet in a tangled mess in my mass of shoes. I swore, swore, swore that it was the hubby who was the culprit. Every time I opened the door and had to try to wade through the hangers in order to pull out a pair of shoes I cussed him, cussed him indeed. However, to my dismay, the hangers seem to keep appearing in the bottom of the closet, even in his absence. I am sure he is still to blame in some way - I just to have figure out how. LOL

Plan B

I have been having some crappy days at work - dealing with a lot of polical bull shit that really, really pisses me off. I am mostly pissed off because I have been asked to "play nice for now" when I really want to tell this one person who is causing all the problems what I think. So I have devised "PLAN B" - which makes me laugh. It also makes me realize that things really could be much worse. Right?

The photo might be hard to read - so I will explain.

This is an old shack - being converted into a Strip Club called "The Hot Flash". On the porch is a fat, red-neck with his belly hanging out of his shirt. They are hiring - on the billboard it reads "Wanted, Middle-Aged Women".

Tip for the Day

Hey, if you are driving a piece of shit silver car, are in front of me on the back-country roads in the morning as I am trying to get to work and you are only driving 35 fucking miles per hour, how about you change your license plate from "Q Silver" to "I M A SLOW FUCK" and then get the hell out of my way.