Only in Maine…

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I love my state for many reasons.

Scenic beauty, fresh seafood and a huge selection of craft breweries to name a few.

But it’s the bizarre and completely quirky things that constantly reaffirm its perfection to me.

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No.

I’m not making this up.

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It positively screams for a meme.

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No doubt.

At least the male dorms…

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Perhaps the word crotch didn’t have the same connotation back then.

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And because I always do my due diligence when blogging about strange things, I punched “Katie’s Crotch Road” into my map app.

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It does indeed exist.

Though my iPhone seems a little puritanical when it comes to spelling.

🤣

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Forget the plastic surgery and anti aging creams…

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All you need is a tardigrade.

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The dude needs a manicure, but okay… I’m listening.

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At the rate my body is currently declining I would love to pause my biological clock. And if possible, reset it to age 29 when all my joints didn’t creak.

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That is one freaky looking fellow….

And is it me… or does he remind you of Robot in Lost in Space as well?

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Impressive, no?

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Sure, not physically. But the little guy could have survived Chernobyl… props for that.

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Sign me up for that flick!

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I have to admit the more I look at this critter …. the more I like him.

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I mean, come on….

He’s smiling.

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Admit it, you want one.

🤣

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Choking the cherry.

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During our last N’or Easter, my poor choke cherry tree took a hit.

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It’s an old ragged tree that was here when we moved in 20 years ago, but the blooms are lovely in the spring and the cherries are bright red in the fall… even if they are inedible.

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With all the rain and melting snow we’ve had, the high wind busted off quite a few limbs.

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So my husband went out to deal with the mess.

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And disturbed a few woodchucks who were sunning themselves on the stone wall in the process.

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It’s been a while since my husband has fired up the chain saw.

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And the fumes were toxic.

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But once the air cleared, my poor tree got a trim.

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And the wood shed got a pile of cherry.

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🥺

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The urine apocalypse … part 2.

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Because you enjoyed part 1 so much.

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Good luck out running that.

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You might want to get an umbrella instead.

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Trillions of peeing insects would be enough to send me scurrying for cover.

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Their idea of Mardi Gras fun and mine differ greatly.

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While bugs don’t bother me, I have to admit I’m glad I’m not in the peeing path of their hatchings this year.

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Don’t drink bug pee.

Words to live by right there.

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So, yeah.

Have fun with that.

And please remember to blog the event.

😉

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Thrift store treasures.

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I really need to up my game when thrifting because the people on this page are leaving me in the dust.

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Hosting a dinner party back in the day clearly required some serious skill.

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What the utter Hell is that?

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Because no one wants to take the time to plug in a crystal when you really need one now.

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That’s some ugly ass spelling as well.

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Speaking as a juvenile delinquent who smuggled shoulder harnessed squeezable flasks filled with alcohol into every concert venue she ever entered….

No.

There’s a line, and this is it.

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Let’s play.

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This one will be fun.

I promise!

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I love it.

This one is right in my wheelhouse.

I’ll start….

Wind In The Pillows. (as someone married to a baked bean lover I am well acquainted with this phenomenon)

Rodeo and Juliet. (ride ‘em cowboy takes on a whole new meaning here)

Gone With The Wine. (wine, it’s always gone too soon)

Lord Of The Pies. (if there’s a lady of the pies, I humbly volunteer)

Of Lice And Men. (eww, but I had to)

The Lizard Of Oz. ( I think that’s Jim Morrison)

To Pill A Mockingbird. (I’ve pilled cats, can’t imagine birds are any easier)

A Tale Of Two Titties. ( sorry, I couldn’t resist)

The Old Man And The Pee. ( if you know, you know)

Little Souse On The Prairie (if I lived on the prairie back then I’d be soused too)

Silence of the Hams. (with pineapple and brown sugar please)

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I could keep going, but I’ll leave some for you.

Dazzle me!

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