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Whoever dreamed up this card game is a genius.
.
.
Apparently it’s some kind of memory game…
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.
But that doesn’t matter.
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Because even though I’ll never play it?
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I adore it!
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I mean really…
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How can you not?
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Whoever dreamed up this card game is a genius.
.
.
Apparently it’s some kind of memory game…
.
.
But that doesn’t matter.
.
.
Because even though I’ll never play it?
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I adore it!
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I mean really…
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How can you not?
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Because thankfully I can still laugh.
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Dogs are thrilled their owners are staying home. Cats? Not so much.
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*Shudders at the thought*
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It’s been a rough year for everyone.
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Thank God we have a refrigerator in the barn filled with tests.
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No comment necessary.
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Feed me Seymour!!!
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Cats rule.
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Thank you kitty, I’ve always hated that elf.
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Ah, Facebook. Why your algorithms think I’m in constant need of this product is a mystery I fear I’ll never solve.
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On the bright side, packing for that trip won’t take as long this year.
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Yes Karen… He’s talking to you.
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Chicken Godzilla. Rampaging through a Christmas village near you…
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It’s 2020…. kiss your visions of sugarplums goodbye.
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While I’m all for pampering and spoiling our pets..
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No.
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Just, no.
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Bowzer’s manicure should not look better than mine… and look, even the dog hates it.
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I want to know who looked at their cat’s ass one afternoon and thought, ” Hey, that will make a great coloring book”.
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Mr. Whiskers is not amused.
And lastly, proof positive more isn’t always good… it’s just more.
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Hell, I think I’m slipping into diabetic coma just looking at that.
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Because I still need to laugh.
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You think you’ve laid in enough supplies for the next Covid wave of panicked shoppers? Just imagine how much triple ply Charmin ole Rex would have needed.
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That’s a distinct possibility.
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Another possibility. At least in my neck of the woods.
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That sounds like good advice.
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Protection.
It’s not just for penises anymore…
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#2 in the series of ‘I’m definitely not young and single anymore’. Otherwise known as Cosmopolitan magazine highlights.
Or lowlights, you decide.
Gentlemen?
You’ve been warned.
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First up, a strawberry vagina.
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Magical?
Yeah, I must be doing something wrong. And because there are probably other women like me?
Products.
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Am I surprised they are named Honey Pot and Fur?
At this point, I am not.
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This explains a lot about the current generation. I enjoyed moving out of my parents house, but maybe that was just me.
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What brownie abomination is this?
No. Just…. no.
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Wow. And I thought breaking up via text was bad….
Finally there was this:
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Strategically placed mirror aside…. FaceTiming your gynecologist? I’m beginning to relish the fact I’m not in my twenties anymore.
P.S. … don’t be surprised when that cat starts having nightmares.
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I know we’ve all become lazy housebound sods who can’t be bothered to put on pants during the pandemic, but this?
This is a bridge too far.
The day I’m too lazy to stir my own pan you have permission to slit my throat, fill it with kale and put me out of my misery.
And while I’m all for cocktails?
I have absolutely no intention of sharing my margaritas with llamas.
Nope.
Not happening.
Oh, yeah.
Kitty Hitler looks positively thrilled.
Let’s ponder this for a moment.
Someone thought about, invented, pitched, found investment capital and marketed….. a hammock for fish.
Is this a great country or what!
And finally…. when your dog no longer needs his collar of shame?
Viola!
You can re-purpose it in the kitchen.
You’re welcome.
Because laughter is literally the only medicine.
I haven’t walked into a bar in 142 days.
Let that sink in…. and tell me pigs aren’t flying somewhere.
Correct signage has never been more important.
I’m beginning to notice a trend.
He’s right.
We probably are.
Finally, a way to make men wear masks!
Thank you Katie.
And if all that was too depressing, let me leave you with this…..
You’re welcome.
Because we all still need a laugh.
Now that’s just rude.
This looks like a great idea since I always whup the husband at gin rummy and he won’t play with me anymore.
*Note to self – borrow neighbor’s rooster*
I really do miss traveling.
Even if it’s just to the next town.
Indeed.
Yeah.
Gwyneth (correct spelling) can bite me.
( Did I already post this one? Maybe… but the sentiment holds true. )
Cats.
They think they know everything. It happens to be tequila.
Stuff it Mittens.
Jesus… neither do I!
We’re doomed.
I know tax time can be a stressful time of year, even now when the deadline has been rolled back.
And I know some people are still anxiously awaiting their stimulus checks.
But please, can we all just take a breath and have a little common decency?
The following is a recent FB post from the mother of a friend of mine. She’s a widow in her 70’s who works for H&R Block at tax time to supplement her fixed income.
The fact that she even has to say this saddens me.
So please, calm down.
We’re all in this together.
Even the tax accountants.