So maybe move to southern Florida, where you can dread the rising sea level – or maybe southern California where you can dread the bumpin’ earthquakes. (Now that is some bumpin’ dreadful bumpin’.)
I’m dusting places that haven’t been dusted in months. Sneezy bump.
How about Arksnsas. Bumping tornados! :eek:
How about Puerto Rico and bumpin’ hurricanes?
Sunday afternoon bump.
Sunday evening bump.
Winter took its toll on our roads. Lot of potholes, making for a bumpy ride.
Yay! I’m bumping from HOME!!!
Bumped to say that I’m glad to hear the news, Beck!
Wow, that’s great bumpin’ news, Beck! Say hi to the meezers.
No bumps yet today?
She’s runnin’ smooth as silk, now that Beckdawrek is back!
She comes out of her slump, in a silk dress bumpin’
Like a watercolor in the rain.
Don’t bother asking for explanations,
She’ll just tell you that she came,
In the year of the cat.
That’s bumpin’ sweet **Spoons **, Thank you! (:))
Beck, you inspired me to complete the song. So here we go:
“Back Home With Her Cats,” with apologies to Al Stewart
*It might be from a Doper movie,
In a clinic where Hilda prevailed,
She went through rehab just like a soldier,
And which she detailed.
She came out of her slump, in a silk dress bumpin’
Like a watercolor in the rain.
Don’t bother asking for explanations,
She’ll just tell us that she came,
Back home to her cats.
She gave us lots of time for questions,
As she ate up her hospital food,
And we asked until our sense of which direction,
Was bordering on rude.
Walking through the halls by the hospital walls,
There’s a door she wants to lead us to,
It’s an exit, that she says that she’s going through,
Back home to her cats.
Well, she posted here so cooly,
Not quitting, always humorously,
No need for incense nor patchouli,
But we heard plenty how she wanted to be,
Back home with her cats.
Beck, Monday came and you’re still with us,
And thankfully, now, hospital’s gone,
And you don’t know how much you’ve been missed here,
So you have to stay on.
But the bumpin’ strain of your absence remains,
In the rhythm of this new-born day,
We all hope that you’ll never leave us,
But for now, you’re fine if you stay,
At home with your cats.
At home with your cats.*
This one’s for you, Beck. Enjoy!
Oh, and bump.
That was bumpin’ amazing, Spoons!
Bumped to say, thanks, Panache. It was kind of fun to do.
So sweet. A bumpin’ homerun. Thank you, Spoons, my friend. 
You are quite welcome, friend Beck.
Oh, I almost forgot: bump.
I’m glad that Becks is back (is that an Elton John song I hear in the background?). I’m impressed with the song re-writing. And I’m working from home. Bump.