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After reading an article about a fine arts student in Montreal who made clothing out of food?
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I realized the contents of my refrigerator have to step up their game.
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Damn it cabbage, get up off your ass.
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And to think I’ve been wasting my broccoli in casseroles.
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A potato chip shirt? Sure it’s all innocent fun… until someone opens the dip.
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I don’t know about you, but an orange isn’t going to cut it for me. My girls would need cantaloupes.
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Remember our resident woodchuck?
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The one who eats my flowers? The one we so cleverly named Chuck?
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I believe we’re going to have to rethink that name.
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Because Mrs. Chuck is in serious need of some supportive undergarments.
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Where’s Jane Russell when you need her?
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Far be it for me to hawk a product from Amazon, I’m sure Jeff Bezos is doing just fine without my help. But I ordered this little jewel the other day….
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And was amazed at well it worked.
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Yes, it’s just a stupid plastic thing with a serrated end.
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But that sucker slides right down my bathroom sinks and shower drains and brings up all manner of nasty clogs. (I’ll spare you photographic evidence of my claim, suffice it to say I have a head of thick curly hair that doesn’t always stay on my head.)
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Save yourself a visit from the plumber (and his crack) . Buy a Green Gobbler today!
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In the continuing series Why does River keep posting this nonsense? I bring you the final squares of the centennial quilt.
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No it hasn’t taken 100 years to complete, it’s just the time span being celebrated by our little town.
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Does your town have yurts?
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Mine does.
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Hats off to creative women.
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And their needles.
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And now, what you’ve all been waiting for… ( or waiting to be over. Either way, you win) .. the completed quilt!
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And may I just say, bravo.
This will hang proudly in our town hall so all can enjoy the fabric wrought history.
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Sometimes Facebook gets it right.
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Like this store… that seems to be targeted to my sense of humor.
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Not always, but maybe. Alright… more than likely it is.
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Sounds like something I would do.
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I have an abundant supply, no problem.
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I’m definitely not. Remind me to tell you the story about my husband’s friend who called him at work to tell him to ‘get his wife under control’. Ha! As if.
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That’s me.
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Someday I’m going to have to buy one of these. It’s my favorite tag line and I’ve been searching for cocktail napkins with that phrase ever since we built the man cave bar…. to no avail.
😰
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Remember the lovely new flower I planted in my stone wall bed?
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It now looks like this:
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My happy little cosmos?
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Not so happy anymore.
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It looks like another woodchuck war is brewing, and because no other deterrent ( critter ridder, moth balls, hot pepper flakes, essential oils etc) has worked? I just ordered the big (stinky) guns.
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Note – do not cut flowers for the house after spraying with predator urine. Your roses will not smell rosy.
🤢
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Oh, you thought my awful gift subscription to Cosmopolitan had run out? No such luck. So sit back and see what the young women of today are reading about this month.
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Okay then… moving on.
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Apparently there’s a dating app for everyone. Not ready for Tinder or Grindr? Try Tabby.
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Meow!
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This particular article was quite detailed and had everything you ever needed or wanted to know about circumcised penises.
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As well as a lot you ( or maybe just I ) didn’t.
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When in doubt, say nothing. Apparently my mother’s advice holds true for every situation.
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What’s up Venezuela?
Wait.. on second thought. I don’t want to know.
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P.S. I refuse to put sixty nine or circumcision in my list of tags. No good can come from that. So to speak…
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Am I the only one who does this? You see something and think to yourself… I need to blog that. Then you save it on your camera roll only to have it languish there for weeks because it doesn’t deserve its own post?
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Yeah, like that. Weird, probably worthy of a joke, but not enough to build a blog around.
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And I’m sure that’s perfectly delightful, for everyone but the chicken who’s suffocating in a plastic bubble and probably terrified at the cornucopia of sweaty flesh on display at the shore… but an entire post? No.
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Maine real estate has always been high, but right now it’s absolutely insane. When the average median price for a house is 3/4’s of a million? You know people have lost their minds. And in case you’re wondering, the cheapest price shown is in a town that was nothing but redneck trailers and two bedroom ranches a decade or so ago.
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Yes, I could blog about how no one but the wealthy can afford a home up here anymore… but that’s too depressing.
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So I’ll end with Lord Dudley Mountcatten helping me make the bed.
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Needless to say, the bed did not get made that morning.
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Ten years ago Maine debuted its first NBA G league basketball team.
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And naturally its mascot was a lobster. The lobster art has morphed over the years…
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But it has remained a red cooked lobster. Hence the name… ‘Red Claws’.
Mainers. We’re so clever, it hurts.
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Okay, so sometimes the mascot looks more like a demonic ant….
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A demonic ant on steroids.
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But ya gotta admit, the dude’s got game.
Everything was going well, and in the ten years since it’s inception… the team has won three division titles. But in 2019?
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The Boston Celtics bought our team. And this year?
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They not only renamed our team the Maine Celtics….
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They turned our red lobster green!
The Green Claws?
That’s just wrong. In so many ways.
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I think we’ve established Lord Dudley Mountcatten is fan of the chronic.
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He spends many happy hours face down in his kitty cope sack.
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And I spend many joint creaking hours picking it up off the floor after he flings it with intoxicated feline abandon.
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Stoned? Probably.
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But woe to the person who tries to come between the Lord and his herb.
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His Lordship is not above shredding skin to keep possession.
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River's world..... 