Tag Archives: humor

Language is a beautiful thing.

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I speak a little French, a touch of German and even less Latin… though technically I guess no one speaks Latin, we just trot it out at cocktail parties to impress people… which ironically, often has the opposite effect.

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When I was young my mother taught me a few helpful phrases in Hungarian… so if you’re ever in Budapest and need to say, Come here and kiss me? I’m your girl.

Language is a fascinating thing, but I’ve always felt sorry for people who need to learn ours…. because let’s face it, English is all over the place.

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I never thought about any of these…

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But they’re so true!

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Yup.

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English.

It’s clear as mud.

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Ducks

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Our resident mallard is really into his food.

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And yes, I meant that literally.

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The rival males still show up now and then.

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But our female has made her choice and they end up wandering around aimlessly…. as single men are apt to do.

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Standoffs with the woodchuck are still a thing.

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And the male mallard is showing some battle scars on his breast.

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But this day they were victorious…. and took a load off next to the spoils.

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Disturbing duck facts added for dramatic ending.

You’re welcome.

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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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Chillin’….

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Do you see him?

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How about now?

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten saw him.

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Though eating him was probably higher on his list than it would be on yours.

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Yes, it was a little chipmunk scampering through the rhododendron in front of my kitchen window.

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The day was hot, the shade the bush provided was cool….

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So the little guy just stretched out… and chilled.

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I feel like my food is just phoning it in.

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After reading an article about a fine arts student in Montreal who made clothing out of food?

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I realized the contents of my refrigerator have to step up their game.

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Damn it cabbage, get up off your ass.

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And to think I’ve been wasting my broccoli in casseroles.

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A potato chip shirt? Sure it’s all innocent fun… until someone opens the dip.

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I don’t know about you, but an orange isn’t going to cut it for me. My girls would need cantaloupes.

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Gobble, gobble.

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Far be it for me to hawk a product from Amazon, I’m sure Jeff Bezos is doing just fine without my help. But I ordered this little jewel the other day….

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And was amazed at well it worked.

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Yes, it’s just a stupid plastic thing with a serrated end.

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But that sucker slides right down my bathroom sinks and shower drains and brings up all manner of nasty clogs. (I’ll spare you photographic evidence of my claim, suffice it to say I have a head of thick curly hair that doesn’t always stay on my head.)

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Save yourself a visit from the plumber (and his crack) . Buy a Green Gobbler today!

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Well done ladies.

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In the continuing series Why does River keep posting this nonsense? I bring you the final squares of the centennial quilt.

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No it hasn’t taken 100 years to complete, it’s just the time span being celebrated by our little town.

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Does your town have yurts?

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Mine does.

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Hats off to creative women.

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And their needles.

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And now, what you’ve all been waiting for… ( or waiting to be over. Either way, you win) .. the completed quilt!

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And may I just say, bravo.

This will hang proudly in our town hall so all can enjoy the fabric wrought history.

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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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Cosmo Hell

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Oh, you thought my awful gift subscription to Cosmopolitan had run out? No such luck. So sit back and see what the young women of today are reading about this month.

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Okay then… moving on.

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Apparently there’s a dating app for everyone. Not ready for Tinder or Grindr? Try Tabby.

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Meow!

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This particular article was quite detailed and had everything you ever needed or wanted to know about circumcised penises.

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As well as a lot you ( or maybe just I ) didn’t.

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When in doubt, say nothing. Apparently my mother’s advice holds true for every situation.

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What’s up Venezuela?

Wait.. on second thought. I don’t want to know.

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P.S. I refuse to put sixty nine or circumcision in my list of tags. No good can come from that. So to speak…

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Random stuff cluttering up my phone.

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Am I the only one who does this? You see something and think to yourself… I need to blog that. Then you save it on your camera roll only to have it languish there for weeks because it doesn’t deserve its own post?

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Yeah, like that. Weird, probably worthy of a joke, but not enough to build a blog around.

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And I’m sure that’s perfectly delightful, for everyone but the chicken who’s suffocating in a plastic bubble and probably terrified at the cornucopia of sweaty flesh on display at the shore… but an entire post? No.

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Maine real estate has always been high, but right now it’s absolutely insane. When the average median price for a house is 3/4’s of a million? You know people have lost their minds. And in case you’re wondering, the cheapest price shown is in a town that was nothing but redneck trailers and two bedroom ranches a decade or so ago.

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Yes, I could blog about how no one but the wealthy can afford a home up here anymore… but that’s too depressing.

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So I’ll end with Lord Dudley Mountcatten helping me make the bed.

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Needless to say, the bed did not get made that morning.

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