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My husband thinks Facebook is ridiculous and does not and will never have an account. Tonight he elaborated, "if someone said, 'Hey, [Charlie], a guy you knew in high school, is going to call you tonight and tell you what he thinks about Obamacare for a few seconds,' you'd say, 'What?! Why would I care about that?' And that's Facebook. Like if every acquaintance you ever had were leaving you little voicemails about whatever they happened to be thinking about. If people did that you'd say, 'This is horrible! Leave me alone!' People reading an endless stream of inane things written by people they barely remember; that's Facebook."Heh. I find many interesting things on Facebook, but I still found that funny.
The rare clumber with two balls in his mouth is much cuter. Go ahead post it Mary.Freeman lives in Arkansas, dear lord, what is that like/
I would seriously rather die as a gay than live in the south.
Lemme ruminate on that thar kestin while chew ona piece a hay an check the dryness of ma overalls out on da line.
Da goat dun got isself inda da chicken house agin. Dagnabbit!
He gotta boil on is goat leg, but I knows you ken cure dat with a poultice a tabakky an cow mucosa.
And a Happy zero birthdate to Grant Jackson Windham weighing in at 8 lbs, 14 oz. His begat line continues from a grandfather and father who are both known as feisty lawyers.
If you ain't got no mule, an you ain't got no horse, then what you gots to get's a raccoon. Not wonna dese lil rat thangs you find inna deevelepment. Not, sir. You gots to get up in em woods deep, way up in em hills. You find you a raccoon as big as a wild hog. Then you gotta break im. Peppermint helps but licorice don't. Get that saddle on im. Then you come aridin down outta them woods and all yer cousins be a whoopin an a hollerin cause you done got done the business. Nex day,you ken get that raccoon pullin a plow for ya. Jes keep feedin im sausages an brushin squirrel lard inta is fur, an e'll keep agoin on.
Talk about my thrill-of-the-chase thesis coming to life, get a load of this (via Drudge):Police suspend 63 officers over deadly chase (You read that right, “63” officers – in “1” police chase)An unarmed couple running for their lives, both of them eventually shot dead in a hail of 137 bullets (you read that right, “137” bullets). The chase started when a police officer perceived an offense, an imagined slight, and his adrenalin instantly shifted into killer-high gear. And before the chase was over, no fewer than sixty (60) adrenalin-powered cop cars had joined the pursuit firing their guns out of their windows just like real cops & robbers. Try to imagine the scene for a minute - all those cops chasing through Cleveland with their guns blazing while chasing after who knows who(?). Well, actually, an unarmed man with his girlfriend. The man was shot 23 times, his girlfriend 24 times (yes, “23” & “24”). You know, like Bonnie & Clyde.And a wonderful example of my thesis. I mean, what better expression than the fact that a seemingly random circumstance immediately “found” 63 cops in one neighborhood who were willing to endanger the entire community in nothing more than a stunning display of an abuse of power. That two [unarmed] people died because of adrenalin and the tacit license to kill virtually anyone. For the slightest of reasons.
Freeman removes the mask.
Ali - you make it sound like the police are ready to exterminate us all.
Freeman Hunt, that is seriously funny. Let us know when the book comes out.
Today is National Boss's Day.I don't get why we need a whole day to celebrate Bruce Springsteen.
"The rare clumber with two balls in his mouth is much cuter. Go ahead post it Mary."You need to learn to focus, Titus.
Perfect timing, David. Lol.
I don't know what came over me last night. The finishing school advertisement promised that that could never happen.
I've read Freeman Hunt's recent posts aloud, trying to channel the accent. Not really my forte, but I think I'm getting close.I do a good Yoda, though. What would Yoda sound like if he wuz araised in Arkansas? Might put his subject in front of his verbs, but I doubt it. "Don't jes' 'try'. Do." Or don't do if you don't want. Ain't no 'try'."
Freeman, you are great. As we all know Titus has this thing about the South, And I'm glad for him to have it. It will keep him up the Northeast where he belongs. The truth is that he would be perfectly happy in Asheville, Atlanta, Charleston, or New Orleans. You would have to work real hard to find a Bed and Breakfast in Savannah that did not have a rainbow flag in front of it. There is school of design there that attracts certain people. I can imagine you writing your comment, grinning like a 'possum eating 'simmons, or a mule eating briers.BTW, I recently visited Western New York, around Batavia. Navigated on the Erie Canal. Based on the yard signs I saw there, the Republicans would gain two new Senators if they separated New York State from New York City. Titus would not feel at home there.
Don't work too hard at channeling the accent. I wrote it as inconsistent on purpose.
Silence of the lambs.
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