Tag Archives: FB

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Miscellaneous drivel.

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Cupboards are boring.

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I would.

I really would…

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Beer plus Girl Scout cookies?

I’m in.

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And speaking of beer, we dropped into a new small batch brewery to try a flight recently.

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The beer was quite good. Traditional German style Pilsners, dunkels and gose. Veteran owned and run, so you know my husband found someone to talk to… which made us late for our dinner reservation.

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Our first chuck of the season lost a little fur during hibernation.

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In an odd circular patch.

I was a bit worried…

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But it seems to be growing back nicely.

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I saw this on FB the other day and had to chuckle.

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Then I saw this answer and positively snorted.

JD gets makeup tips from raccoons.

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Yes, my pickle algorithm is alive and well.

Sigh.

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Herb Alpert, veggie margaritas and Christians who can’t spell.

26 Comments

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A rare photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten walking in the snow a few weeks ago.

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That winter stroll lasted all of two minutes. His Lordship does not like cold feet. 🥶

If you’re a vinyl collector like me, you’ve flipped through endless stacks of records in flea markets and antique stores looking for an elusive LP. More often than not what you find is Herb Alpert. Specifically, the Whipped Cream album. Seriously, it’s everywhere.

If you can relate to that frustration, this next bit is for you.

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Lord Dudley likes to watch television. And the other night he came running into the living when he heard a bald eagle screech.

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To say he was fascinated is an understatement.

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No. Just… no.

I love my margaritas but refuse to add beets.

Blech!

🤢

Misspellings annoy me. Which is why I joined a funny group on Facebook called the Grammar Police where people share photos of grammatical blunders.

I posted this recently.

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Screenshot

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It was immediately removed.

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I thought it was funny.

Apparently, they didn’t.

🥴

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More from new favorite wild haggis FB page.

16 Comments

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I’m sorry, but I seriously love this silly group of people and their irreverent haggis sightings.

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For those of my non Scottish friends, the definition of haggis is as follows:

Traditionally, a Haggis is made from the lung, liver, and heart of the sheep. These are mixed with oatmeal and a few spices and stuffed into the sheep’s stomach. After being boiled, the Haggis is brought to the table with a great deal of ceremony. A piper ushers in the Haggis and all raise a glass of Scotch whiskey and “brrreath a prrayerr for the soul of Rrrobbie Burrrns!” It is then served with “neeps and nips,” mashed turnips and nips of whiskey. I think you have to drink a lot of Scotch before you can truly enjoy this dish, but a party of Scots without a Haggis is simply not heard of.

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While I proudly lay claim to Scots ancestry, I cannot honestly say I’ve ever enjoyed their much beloved national dish.

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But that doesn’t stop me from chortling over the continued quest to spot the elusive wild haggis.

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Wily creatures, those haggi.

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Ouch!

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😳

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❤️

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I love my town… part whatever.

18 Comments

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Haven’t done one of these in a while, so I thought it was time to check my small town’s FB page.

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The ultimate in tree repurposing. Goats!

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The old fashion trade and barter system is alive and well in my town. I have a neighbor who had his garage built with nothing but beer.

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Girl Scout cookies are the new crack. Those little bitches give you a free sample and you’re hooked.

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Sorry bud, someone left it in ours as well.

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That is perfectly evil. And I love it!

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Poor piner. Hope he was alright…

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Heartbroken.

42 Comments

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The beautiful stray cat we fell in love with and gave a home?

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Has been returned to his rightful owners.

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I think you can guess that wasn’t my choice…. but when you receive a call from the local police department, there really isn’t any way to avoid it.

Apparently his people had been frantically searching for him but aren’t active on social media and didn’t see my original posts about finding him. A friend of theirs alerted a lost animal site…

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And there really was no doubt.

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After the police gave me their phone number, I found this on my FB messenger.

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Damn.

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They live right up the road from us.

The guilt was strong, because I really wanted to keep him.

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But look, he has a twin brother.

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Double damn. There were worried children.

I had to call.

So I called.

They came, they thanked us profusely, they took their beautiful kitty, and yes…. I cried.

Now the house seems emptier than ever.

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What’s in a name?

14 Comments

 

Clearly, everything.

As evidenced by this product a FB friend bought for her family.

 

 

Well, you have to admit…. it’s catchy.

And I suppose techies will enjoy having a set of controls to play with while on the throne.

 

 

But what tickled me the most (while performing the due diligence blog research my readers have come to expect but neither care about nor want) was the ad campaign.

Save money on toilet paper!

Very timely.

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I love my town … part, whatever.

20 Comments

 

Our town’s FB page has been filled with blog fodder lately.

Here are a few of the best…

 

 

Name That Scat?

You can’t get quality posts like this in the city.

No sir.

 

 

Damn, I wonder if that drone crackpot who wrapped himself in tinfoil lives close by?

No anal probes needed here.

 

 

This is utterly fabulous.

No joke.

 

 

Good thing the husband didn’t see this.

Free is a four letter word as far as I’m concerned.

 

 

 

Christ…

I hope not.

 

 

Our townspeople are so helpful.

Because you can never be too prepared for Zombies.

 

 

Toilet paper…

What’s that?

 

 

The Easter Bunny was spotted last month, although I’m not sure why he needed a cannon.

 

 

Thankfully this person lives on the other side of town because while tire planters are never a good idea….

Hot pink tire planters would strain even Mr. Rogers’ love for his neighbors.