Tag Archives: facebook

I love my town.

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Cruising my small town’s Facebook page today, I discovered an invitation.

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I wonder if adults are allowed?

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I do love a good goat encounter.

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We’ve had a lot of mushrooms lately, but never one with dead tribble hair.

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Teachers. They educate our children and at times, take on the role of surrogate parents.

Scooping poop should not be part of their job description.

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I love my town…

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You never know what serious news stories will be discussed on my town’s Facebook page. The economy? Yes. Climate change? Sure. But I live in Maine…. so likely as not? It will be this:

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Bear poop beats the G-7 Summit any day.

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The conversation got heated and had to be removed by admin. We take our poo identification seriously up here.

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Now that’s my kind of neighbors.

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Someone is selling peony blossoms for $3 a pop?

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Woot!

I’m going to be rich.

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I’ve read that the cost of rental cars had gone up, but $3,000 for a week?

That’s beyond insane.

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Here we go again…

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It’s been a while since Facebook’s targeted Ball Wash ads flooded my feed. And silly me, I thought I was over the proverbial hump. Then I saw this…

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Ball Hammocks are not a step up…. and I seriously doubt dads need them. I mean really, look at that man. You can tell he would much rather have gotten a tie.

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Damn. Now I’m going to have to give up pizza forever.

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Bambi Bunchers? Please, no.

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Sweet Jesus. I really don’t care if your nuts are happy… and is it me? Or do those nuts look more like garlic anyway.

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There are a lot of wonderful places in the world to make love. Under a chocolate chip cookie is not one of them.

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I suppose cozy tube steak was inevitable.

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Noooo!

Not the red squirrel…..

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It’s like they built this store just for me.

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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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I love my town

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What passes for news in my little corner of the world might seem silly to some….

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But I like to think of our Facebook page as the New York Times of happy living.

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You’ll be glad to know this crisis was averted.

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I’m not sure if this a thing in your area, but in Maine late spring means it’s time to thin and divide the perennials. Some people sell them in their front lawn, but more often than not the bounty is simply shared.

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Go home Freyr. I don’t care how tasty the tuna is down the road.

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That’s one fluffy little cock.

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Damn. No one ever drops roosters off at our house.

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I wish I could tell you they’re kidding.

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I never know whether to believe some of the ridiculous ads they have on Facebook. But sadly, this one is real.

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Yes, everyone farts, but that doesn’t mean you need to build a business around the fact.

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I can get it in the Cracked Rat color? Well, okay then.

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Farts not included? Ha. Good one.

Not.

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Good grief, do people actually think that’s funny?

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Fair questions, all.

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So I’m going to buy a fart blanket that doesn’t absorb farts? There’s a brilliant marketing strategy.

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A small collection of nonsense.

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I saw this at Goodwill last week… and it made me wonder how many women in the 60’s stuck their face in a cone for the sake of beauty.

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The ridiculous cat products are still popping up on my Facebook feed.

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Saw this license plate and thought…. why would anyone want to be BoBo?

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For anyone who doesn’t remember….

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BoBo was a blow up punching bag…. and part of a groundbreaking study about learned aggressive behavior.

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And if ridiculous cat products aren’t ridiculous enough? This abomination popped up on my Facebook feed the other day.

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And I seriously don’t want to know what algorithm triggered that!

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