Eat corn.

Take my hand.

Eat hand corn.

Are oh see kay in the you ess ay.

Sisters are doing it for themselves.

You don't have to live like a refugee.

Thank you to romperwebby and unhappymeal for making my last post work beautifully.

Hooray for 4-syllable LJers.

Caribou Queen.

You know those poor dogs I was writing about? The ones who have been chained up for years, living in mud holes, with no blankets? Well, I gave them blankets and brought them a couple of bones. Apparently my stupid redneck neighbor saw me doing this and telephoned the owner of the land, Fat Whore Bitch, and complained. Fat Whore Bitch called my ( Read more... )

The crockpots are shorting out our electricity. We have three of them plugged in, all full of chili. Two beef, one elk. All our battery back-ups are dead. My space heater died. Bob is upset about that because he's been outside in the cold barbecuing ribs all morning and needs to warm up. He's wearing his camoflauge jacket ( Read more... )

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SYD I JUST GOT PICTURES OF PA MILLER IN THE GLOVES