One of the greyhounds next door is named Opa. His wife is named Cara, which is also my sister’s name. I can’t get used to it. Cara is a twin, and I want to call Opa Leah, which is Cara (my sister)'s twin’s name (who is also my sister, and not my greyhound).
I don’t have any greyhounds.
What? 
Most definitely, and often do!
the greyhound’s wife?
Would this be the penis zit thread? I think we could have a good time discussing which is worse, a HUGE (sorry, taters) blackhead on your back, or a pulsating pimple on your penis. Penis pimple would make a good band name, doncha think?
And how does fried chicken fit into this discussion? Greasy food and all. Yes, I know that good fried chicken is not greasy, but Ex is talking about buying fried chicken and when was the last time you had commercially prepared fried chicken that wasn’t greasy fried chicken? Did I miss an opportunity to type “fried chicken” in this paragraph?
Then we have sick children and ear goop. Got to be a way to connect these two pimples and blackheads. Add in belly button lint because Lissla gets trying to get her belly button into the conversation, and stuff between toes, because swampy’s toes were mentioned. (Not that Lissla or swampy have notable build-up of either substance, but somebody does, and they might want to share.)
And just what is on God’s refrigerator?
Thank you, earthpuppy!
All this talk about assorted pustules is making me woozy. Sorry, Taters, blackheads are about the least offensive. I mean, at least when squoze, they deposit compact packages that don’t splatter or expulse.
Alert! There is a pig, wearing a red lace apron, tied to a string. This pig is being attacked by a Violet. That is all.
Yep, too much caffeine for me. I know when it’s time to back away from the demitasse when my cat playing with her piggy toy makes me think stuff like that ^ Just count yer lucky stars I haven’t been hitting the Oreos.
Also, what kind of sicko makes a piggy toy wearing a red lace apron? What kind of sicko buys it for her kitties? The kind of sicko who is thinking of joining Ex for some fried chicken. We don’t have a Popeye’s around here, though we are getting a Starbucks.
I know how to figure what time it is on Dangergene’s block. See, it could be yesterday or it could be tomorrow, so split the difference and it’s today.
Kalley, I think the refrigerator is where god keeps his cookie jar. Up on the top in the back where he won’t be too tempted. And that’s where he’ll put candy, no cookies because cookies would go stale before he’d be able to eat them all. Y’see, he’s watching his weight these days and cookies would linger and be-stale-ify. Candy bars, on the other hand, last longer because they’re sealed in wrappers. So, to sum up; it’s a nice cookie jar, a soft golden yellow with an embossed diamond pattern on the sides that he got from Martha Stewart’s catalog. Because Martha’s got all the best stuff.
Swampy, take your time on the pralines, I just ordered some and they’ll be here in eight business days. But you come on over once you’ve picked up the beignets and chicory coffee because you’re gonna loooove my UPS guy. I swear, I’d mail stuff to myself just to watch that man jog up the stairs.
Time for more coffee!
Ignoring for the moment pigs in red apronsm you expect me to believe[ol]
[li]God has a Martha Steward Cookie jar.[/li][li]God is on a diet.[/li][li]God’s cookies get stale.[/li][li]God’s candy bars don’t get stale, but only because they stay in the wrappers.[/li][li]God has trouble reaching the back of the top of His refrigerator.[/li][/ol]
This is wrong for soooooooo many reasons. God’s stuff does not go stale, ever. Unless he wants it to go stale so the the Goddess will feel sorry for Him and come over and make his some fried chicken. And, God’s cookie jar is without end, so both cookies and candy bars and whole entire cakes fit in the jar all at the same time without a problem. God always gets exactly what He wants when he reaches into His Cookie Jar. And it is a classic Winnie The Pooh jar anyway.
Really.
Well, t’chuh, Kalley. 'Course god’s cookies would get stale. He’s not the kind of guy who would create rules and then not follow them. Plus, you said it yourself; if goddess feels sorry about his stale cookies, bammo! he’s eating fried goddess chicken.
Also, god buys from Martha all the time, as is evidenced by her attitude. He does have a classic winnie cookie jar (only the classic, new winnie is for minor demons and inhabitants of the tackier side of inferno level four), but that’s on the counter. It holds schnackies for the kitties.
Would it kill anybody to make a set of rectangular, plain, ceramic kitchen canisters in orange? Would it?
Off to the gym!
Puh-leese, God is certainly the type of God that would always have fresh cookies, et.al. in his cookie jar, or why else would He be God? He don’t need no stinkin’ rules, He’s not bound by the restriction placed on us mortals, He’s God. He’s God in Heaven, no less, when He wants to play by our rules, he comes down to earth and does the human thing. When He’s God on earth, well yeah, he can hear his own voice dictating stuff in a cave, meditate under a tree, be a jaguar or a buffalo, die and rise, or even break a tooth on an old butterfingers bar, but when He’s in Heaven, it’s his game girl and there ain’t no rules.
Another thing. Nobody, and I mean nobody in their right mind would keep kitty schnackies in a Winnie the Pooh cookie jar. Are you suggesting God is crazy? Hmmm? Hmm? I thought not.
Where would God even get a Martha Stewart cookie jar? Do you think God shops at K-mart? God is a class act. Target, yeah sure, but K-Mart? What kind of a low rent God do you think He is, anyway?
Really. It’s enough to get you smited. I’d watch out if I were you.
Kitty schnackies, my a$$.
;j
I’m home safe and sound. Never made it to South Beach, so I didn’t see any cabana boys, hunky or otherwise. But I did score a free round trip on US Air because I volunteered to be bumped on the flight down there on Weds, so that was cool. The second leg of my flight back was delayed by the weather, so I got back to the boat an hour later than I’d hoped.
And before anyone asks, no I didn’t bring you anything, unless you’d like a copy of today’s Miami Herald that I got for free at the hotel. Minus the sports and business sections, because I didn’t want to carry something I wouldn’t read. Although I didn’t read any of it, so I guess in the end it doesn’t matter.
It’s true, Auntie Em. There’s no place like home…
Late spring/early summer must be Greek Festival season. We had ours 2 weeks ago, which I went to (on a first date) - I got free baklava out of it, so all was good.
This weekend I’m going to be condo hunting. Not much is going to be included free when it comes to that!
Oh Kalley, the angels in heaven weep for you. Of course god keeps kitty schnackies in the classic winnie cookie jar! Animal schnackies in the animal shaped jar. Really, it’s in the old testament.
Plus and however, god does not shop at the Kmart martha stewart, he shops Martha by Mail. No need to go out among the unwashed heathen types. No, your items are delivered right to your door by heavenly UPS men named Manuel who wear delicious little brown shorts. Rawr!
Ooh scout, condo hunting eh? I didn’t know you’d won the lottery. Seriously, good luck, because I know the San Diego market is a toughy.
So tell me FairyChatMom, is reading Dave Barry funnier if it’s in the Miami Herald? Closer to the source and all. Hold it up to the screen and let’s see. Y’know, one of my cow-orkers scored a couple of years of free travel by letting herself be bumped every so often. Smooove.
Ashes, darlin’, if angels are weeping for me, it ain’t cuz of what’s in a Winnie the Pooh jar!
As it happened, ol’ Dave was on vacation, so they were running some of his “classic columns” while I was there, and wouldn’t you know they’d run my favorite - his observations on SUVs, including the Chevrolet Subdivision! He’s pretty funny in reruns.
Although I’d much rather read Rue’s MMPs because, well, Dave doesn’t know me from the man in the moon, but I’m Rue’s #1 Special Friend and that really counts for something!
Who me, sucking up? Nevah! I speak from the heart!
Y’all just crack me up and make me smile every, single day! There just isn’t a day when you don’t make me smile! Kittie schnackies, stale cookies, God, and cookie jars; what interesting twists and turns our MMP takes.
Well today Mr. Taters is going to walk in the Relay for Life Cancer walk. It’s all last minute, but he’s doing to help out our buds, plus, it’s just a nice thing to do. He even raised money where he works. He set out their “be nice money jar,” and raised a few ducats.
I am going to the mall to pick up my friend’s birthday present. It’s a REAL bonus when your mommy works in a jewelry store. 
We pick something out, she puts in a bid through her store, (there’s a little formula involved) and we get a VEEEEERRRRRRY good discount. 'Course, she has to act like she’s the one buying the piece, and then we give her a check. Anyhoo, we got our friend a very nice piece. I’d tell you what it is; but she knows about this board and just MIGHT sneak in here. I’ll tell you what it is after we give to her…Sshhhhhhh…
FCM, glad to see you made it back home to your sweetie all safe and sound. I enjoy Dave Barry too, and I remember the column about the SUVs. It was funny.
All that talk about beignets and pralines and chicory coffee a few pages back got me kinda salivating. If I get a chance today I may have to go over to the German bakery (I know, I know, it isn’t FRENCH), and pick out a couple of goodies there. I was raised on the German stuff and they do good pastry and cake. None of that over-sweet sickly stuff. Nice and light and airy. The problem with this bakery and the very good deli on the other side of it, is that it is a good 20 miles away and with traffic around here it’s just a pain in the keister to get there.
Well, I think I will get some more “go” juice. Oh! Wait a minute! I tried one of those Jamba Juices the other day. I had a cranberry something or other. It was Gooo-OOOOD!
I have a cow cookie jar on top of my refrigerator. It’s pushed to the back, not to prevent temptation, but for safety. There’s nothing in my cookie jar to tempt me anyway. (Maybe I should keep a secret stash of candy bars in there… I was hankerin’ a candy bar today.) We have our cookies in a ziplock bag in the “snack cupboard” so they don’t get stale. The dog treats are in a square glass jar with an airtight lid on top of the microwave.
Maybe you could use your free trip to join us for DopeStock…I’m sure you don’t have anywhere else to go for which you’d like to use that comp, right?
I am pleased to report that the team my husband walked on for the cancer walk raised $3,000.00. I think that’s a pretty respectable sum! Mr. Taters now has a very sunburned face and neck. Silly goose; he didn’t put on any sunscreen, lost track of time, and walked more time than he was required to. He didn’t mind, he was enjoying himself immensely.
In further news, the piece of jewelry I mentioned yesterday was a very nice bracelet made of white gold and diamonds. I wouldn’t have minded owning it myself, but it was exactly right for our very good friend. It’s just her style.
We all went to dinner last night and then came back and played some horse. After that, at about 10:00 p.m, we rather impulsively decided it would be nice to take a dip in the pool. We played and splashed and made utter fools of ourselves, but we had a good time. It was rather cool outside, but if we stayed under the water it was tolerable. The pool isn’t heated…
I don’t have any cookie jars; I know I had one at some point, but it must have disappeared in either a move, or more than likely in little pieces into the garbage can.
We keep doggie treats in a ziplock baggie; unless they’re the giant box of Milkbone treats from Costco. We just leave 'em in the that box then.
As a matter of fact, I’m using it to fly my baby here for Turkey Day! Nothing personal, but, you know, this is my BABY we’re talking here…