Tag Archives: gifts

It (unfortunately) never disappoints.

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Gather round boys and girls…. September’s Cosmo, aka the worst gift subscription ever, is here.

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On first glance I thought maybe, just maybe…. I could flip through it without being stunned this month.

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Yeah.

No such luck. And as I’ve said before, I’m no prude… but the in your face sexual content of this magazine never fails to surprise me.

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Greatest sex position. Wouldn’t that be a personal choice?

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Not according to Cosmopolitan.

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And… apologies, but I’m not going to discuss the Venus butterfly technique. Cosmo did, so if you’re curious, get your own friend to give you a year’s worth of this trash.

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Someone thought these were a good idea…

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Do I love a good baked potato? Of course… please pass the butter. But do I need someone’s face on my tater?

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I definitely do not.

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Best gift ever? Clearly some people don’t know how to shop.

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Whaaaat?

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Let’s wrap our minds around the idea of someone actually applying for a patent for water soluble panties in a can.

🥴

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They’re right. I love cats… but I do not love that. Not even close.

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Cosmopolitan Hell … part 2.

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Because this month’s issue was extra horrible and requires two posts.

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Sorry Cara, but I definitely don’t want to hear all about your sex toys.

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Golden penis syndrome. If nothing else? Receiving this gift subscription has made me aware how utterly out of touch I am.

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As if you men don’t think your wands have magic powers already. Geesh.

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Interesting demographic there. All in the south except one town in Massachusetts. Wonder why…?

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No, I didn’t tear that article out and I didn’t tuck it under my mattress. I did give brief thought to sending a copy to Monica Lewinsky… but alas, I think that ship has sailed.

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Worst. Dog. Toy. Ever.

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In fairness to my dog loving readers who must cringe at the plethora of cat posts on my page … here’s one for you.

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Wondering what your next birthday or Christmas gift to Fido should be?

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Mr. Poops. Because you can never go wrong with a morose black turd.

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No need to thank me. The thought of Mr. Poop happily squeaking his way through your house is all the gratitude I need.

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It’s not too late…

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Today is Father’s Day and it’s time to honor dear old dad. The man who’s always got your back. The grill master. The king of lame jokes. The guy who thinks he rocks that Members Only jacket. And what better way to say you love and appreciate dad than a gift?

Okay, so the father in question doesn’t actually have human children? No problem. I’ve got you covered.

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Coffee mugs from your furry four footed overlord.

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And in case you think we’re too cat-centric here at River’s World…

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There. Proof positive there’s a perfect gift for every dad.

Meanwhile at Casa River…

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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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He’s such a slacker.

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Today is Mother’s Day and Lord Dudley Mountcatten marked the occasion by doing absolutely nothing. He didn’t hack me up a hairball, he didn’t push his food bowl my way… he didn’t even drop a dead mouse at my feet. What a slacker!

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I mean really, would it have killed him to order me a box of cocktail chocolates?

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No, it would not. The lazy sod sleeps on the keyboard for heaven’s sake… and don’t tell me he doesn’t have thumbs. Those paws are more dexterous than you think.

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(Don’t laugh, kitty mothers count.) Come on Dudley… River needs a chocolate covered margarita.

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See? This cat made breakfast…. I don’t think I’m being at all unreasonable.

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How odd.

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We had an odd sun reflection in our living room last week.

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Strange coincidence … or alien targeting technology?

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Time will tell.

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Martin, I immediately thought of you. But, blech! It’s still a giant no from where I’m sitting.

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A few of my friends might get this for Christmas. You know who you are… but what makes it odd is the label. ‘Nice Stuff For Mom’. I don’t know about you, but I never tipped back half a dozen martinis with my mother.

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And finally, anatomically correct beer glasses. While I can almost see the appeal of the female version…. the hourglass figure makes for a good grip… the male glass is more than a trifle disturbing.

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I’m going out on a limb here….

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I’ve been meaning to share this with you for a while now… ever since Swinged Cat  asked me about it in the comments of this blog. 

“It” being strange and/or supernatural events. If that’s not your thing, no problem….  feel free to skip the next few posts.  It wasn’t my thing either. Until it happened to me. Not so easy to ignore then.

As most of you know I lost my father when I was 14.  I was an only child of older parents and a total daddy’s girl.

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Dad and me, baby

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His loss shook my world to it’s core. Heck, I’m 57 years old, and to be honest I still haven’t gotten over it.  Anyway…. back in 2013 my best friend gave me a very odd Christmas gift.  “An Evening with Spirits” which was an hour long private session with a psychic. Now before you roll your eyes (like I did) it should be noted this was her daughter’s old college friend and not some loon on the street corner. She’s traveled world wide, studied numerous religions and spiritual disciplines, worked with the most respected people in the field ( you’re eye rolling again, I know…  because I did it as well). But I assure you, my girlfriend is the most down to earth, no nonsense, grounded New Englander you’re apt to meet so if she said this woman was the real deal and forked out a major amount of money for a reading? I had to go along.

The following is copied from my old blog site, and while I normally don’t do that type of thing…. it was written right after the experience and was a harbinger of things to come. Read on if you’re interested.

A Twilight Zone moment….. For Friends Only

Added: Saturday, January 26th 2013 at 6:38am by rivergirl

Friends only because I really don’t need a larger crowd of people thinking I’m crazy.

As you know, I’m using my unique Christmas present this weekend and will be visiting the psychic I posted about earlier. Me…. seeing a psychic. And they say pigs don’t fly.

So… yesterday I’m sitting on the couch reading an interesting book about Tibet. It was full of legend and lore and spirits and demons…..which got me thinking about my upcoming reading. Basically I was wondering if it would be amazing or a total waste of time.  Contact with my late father would be a dream, but we all know how rarely those come true. Still musing, I put the book down and looked up at our mantle where an antique English clock of my father’s sits.

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It’s a pretty little thing that my mother gave us 29 years ago when my husband and I moved into our first home.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. Hasn’t for the entire 29 years we’ve owned it and since it has a rather special pedigree….

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I never wanted to take it to just any clock maker to be fixed. Call me lazy, call me cheap… but there you have it…. it doesn’t work.

Until yesterday when I was sitting on the couch thinking about my father and the damn thing started ticking.

I’m not kidding…. I almost had a heart attack.

My jaw dropped, and I think I was shaking.

I jumped up to make sure I wasn’t hearing things and I swear by all that’s holy the stupid thing was working.  After more than 29 years.

WTH!

Coincidence? I don’t think so.

Crazy lady hearing things? I’d be the first to say so if it hadn’t happened to me. The clock ticked for almost half an hour, and naturally stopped right before my husband got home from work.

Other people talk about experiencing weird things like this and I scoff. But I’m here to tell you when it happens to you? All bets are off.

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Random

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Remember when I posted about giving the husband some Red Sox memorabilia for his birthday?

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Here’s Lord Dudley Mountcatten sitting above the mint condition 1968 pennant. It arrived in a long padded box, wrapped in layers of wax paper, tissue paper and bubble wrap. It was cherry! Until Dudley pounced on it, ripping it in two places and punching a giant tooth hole in the tip. Sigh.

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Here he is eyeing the kinetic sculpture when my husband gave it an inaugural twirl.

Needless to say I put that out of reach shortly after.

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Cats, I love them… but it doesn’t mean they don’t drive me crazy.

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I got this announcement from WordPress the other day. And while I’m flattered they’re keeping track of my posts, I had to wonder at the random number. Is 1337 something to celebrate?

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I ordered this customized coffee mug for a friend and can’t wait to give it to her. ( our names are underneath the chairs but have been removed to protect the not so innocent ) That’s me on the left with the margarita and the figure I haven’t seen for 20 or so years. Hair, drinks, skin tone and shirt are customizable but they didn’t have an overweight and menopausal option, go figure.

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But I admit, it does describe our relationship perfectly.

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In other news…. I’m scheduled to receive my first Covid vaccine this morning. Maine has done a remarkable job with the roll out and I’m looking forward to being on the road to fully protected as well as doing my part to stop the spread of this horrible life altering virus.

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