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Perhaps you’d like to hug a water buffalo.
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It’s free, and you have to admit the toddlers sure are cute.
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Of course inviting you to hug a calf and then directing you to the store to purchase a rump roast of his family is a bit rude….
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I hope no one tells this sweet little fellow Uncle Otto didn’t really go to Boca on vacation.
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*Gulp*
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We took a scenic drive down south the other day and ended up at Camp Ellis. A tiny spit of the Maine coast that suffers greatly during storms and high seas.
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So much so that their beach front is now mostly rock and concrete.
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Erosion is threatening homes and drastic measures are being employed. Because when your front lawn looks like this?
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You know something has to be done.
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I constantly wonder why people even bother. The sea will come, and nothing man can do will stop it.
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Waterfront living is wonderful, but water in your living room… not so much.
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https://downeast.com/our-towns/sweet-fleeting-season/
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I found a little something for the husband’s man cave at Goodwill the other day.
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A flight board. Yay me! And judging from the box, the husband will love it.
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He’s a man, yes. Always has been.
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The duty of every man is to drink beer? Okay… he does his part.
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This box was definitely marketed to men, no doubt about it. Which is why I know it had to be a woman staffer who put this prominent price tag on it….
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A little pink will soften that machismo.
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Apologies in advance to my male readers. Continue at your own risk… and remember, you were warned.
My girlfriend and I went to a discount store last week called Mardens. Personally, I can’t stand the place. They have aisle after aisle of cheap discontinued goods that make Wal Mart look like Neiman Marcus… but it’s a Maine staple and she loves trying to find the gold amidst the junk. While she was treasure hunting? I saw this:
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And pardon my childless ignorance, but it just looked… wrong. I figured it was some kind of nursing bra and because I value you my loyal reader… I did some research.
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And I think it’s safe to say I was a trifle…. befuddled.
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Is it me, or does this look vaguely weaponized?
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A hands free pumping bra…. for when you want to be hooked up to a bovine milking machine and cruise Instagram at the same time.
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Night time visitors continue to surprise us when we walk back from the barn.
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And while surprising us is no big deal? Surprising them can be.
🤢
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A friend of my husband’s gifted him this Red Sox clock. He loved it and immediately hung it on the man cave wall. I on the other hand, realized it’s outdated. It says “7 time World Champions” when the number is currently 9. The reason for the gift is now apparent, at least to me.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten? He couldn’t care less.
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Behold the wonder I found at the package store. Margarita wine! Taste test and review to follow..
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Our neighbors have all the luck. They get an exotic bird with iridescent plumage….we get a red squirrel bitch with sharp teeth.
😡
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I believe this was a modern art display.
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But come on….
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That’s got best selling product written all over it.
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I’m in the minority in my state, and my geographic region for that matter… because I don’t care for the Patriots. But what really makes me an oddball? The fact that I don’t like Tom Brady. We won’t get into the reasons, but suffice it to say when he moved to Tampa Bay? I happily waved bye bye.
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We have friends who recently moved to Florida. Being major Brady fans, they were thrilled when he followed them to the sunshine state. But for people in my neck of the woods, it’s a quandary. They want to keep rooting for the Patriots, but still love Tommy. So when the NFL schedule was announced and a date was picked for the Bucs vs Pats game at Foxboro? Insanity ensued. Tickets for the we’re so effin’ far away from the field we should send a postcard nosebleed section seats?
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$3,200 per. And may I just say… what the utter f*ck! I’m not a football fan so it’s not like I’d be going anyway, but how many blue collar American workers can afford that? None, that’s how many.
And if you want a good seat?
Tickets for Section 111…. on the Patriots sideline… are going for $42,000 per. Which brings to mind one word.
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And it’s not raccoon.
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Stop rolling your eyes. It’s not painful… and they make me chuckle.
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I’ll start.
My drag Queen name is…. Julianna Creme Horn. Which, when you think about it… couldn’t be more appropriate.
🤣
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We woke Saturday morning trying to laugh at how horrible the day before had been. It was a definite nightmare, but the sun was shining, the birds were singing and we had new leather chairs to unpack!
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We also had large tracks torn in our lawn from our friend’s giant diesel truck. Of course it had to rain while we were gone the night before, making the ground nice and slippery when he backed up to the porch. 😬
Oh well, out to the barn we went to unwrap the chairs. These chairs… the pretty caramel colored ones we picked out at the store.
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And when we unwrapped the first one?
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It was the wrong color. And had no legs. WTF??? I was livid. After all we went through to get the damn things! I was even pissed off at the tag…
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Real natural? As opposed to what…. fake natural, or real pleather?
I was sputtering and reaching for my phone to call the store and pitch a fit when the husband decided he liked the wrong color and wanted to keep them. Which meant one of two things… he didn’t want to hear me bitch and rant or the thought of waiting another 2 months for replacements and going through the whole warehouse trip again was simply too much.
Either way, he wanted them. And though I wasn’t happy with the much darker color, sometimes I have to remember it’s his man cave and he should be allowed to choose something every now and then. (not that I’ll make a habit of that mind you) But we still had to deal with the no legs issue. We searched the boxes and the wrappings and under the cushions. Nothing. I was getting ready to call the store again and pitch a fit when the husband noticed a string hanging under the second chair.
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There was a zippered compartment under each chair with a box of legs. Clever. But I have to wonder how many other clueless customers search in vain.
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Pieces and parts. And a few hammer shots later…
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I read another tag.
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Our leather chairs are going to have zits and mosquito bites? WTH.
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So there they are. In all their too damned dark glory.
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Husband is happy, and I have to admit they’re very comfortable. But I’m thinking a few strategically placed throw pillows will go a long way to pull it altogether.
😉
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is sweet…. but his less than sweet claws are doing a number on our rugs and furniture so I purchased yet another scratching post for the furry little peckerwood him.
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It’s part carpet.. since he pulls the loops out of our Berber on a daily basis.. and part sisal. What cat wouldn’t want to scratch that?
Turns out… our cat. Because his Royal Highness wouldn’t touch it. Walked right by it without so much as a glance. Which meant it was time to bring in the big guns.
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Yes, I hosed that thing down with Meowijuana.
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And while it definitely attracted him.. all he did was rub it until it fell over.
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He hugged it.
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He sat on it.
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He draped himself all over it. What the loopy bastard wouldn’t do was scratch it.
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15 minutes later? You be the judge.
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I’m going with stoned.
P.S. …. apologies for the silly voice overs. I tell myself not to do that, and then do it every time.
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River's world..... 