Tag Archives: humor

I was wondering if this day would ever come.

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It’s finally happened.

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My husband put his Harley up for sale.

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After one last ride that almost made him change his mind.

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He bought the bike in 2009, without me knowing because asking forgiveness is easier than asking permission.

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We already had one motorcycle and certainly didn’t need another….

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But his friend Jim’s brother had died and left the bike to Jim who didn’t ride.

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It’s an ‘87 FXLR that was completely stripped down and rebuilt, powder coated, switched from chain to belt, digital instrumentation, extra chrome… custom all the way.

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To the tune of $27,000. We have the paperwork.

Since the owner was a friend who wanted his late brother’s bike to have a good home, my husband purchased it for a quarter of that price.

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Sounds like a great deal but …

(You knew there would be a but.)

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Just because it’s custom doesn’t mean it’s comfortable, which it isn’t. The back seat is tiny… and my derrière is not. I could ride about a half an hour tops, before screaming uncle. And the late brother was a tall man, my husband is not… so shifting was a bit of an uncomfortable stretch.

It’s also a Harley, which means it breaks down frequently. That’s fine if you’re a gear head tinkerer, expensive as Hell if you’re not.

I’ve been squawking about hubby selling it for almost as long as we’ve had it but last weekend, without any prompting from me…. out it went on the front lawn. Miracles do happen.

Of course his asking price is about $3,500 over what it should be… so whether he’s really serious about letting it go is debatable.

🥴

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An unexpected surprise.

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My (not so) retired husband was working a job with our contractor yesterday.

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It consisted of ripping off siding, removing a door, framing over it and putting up new siding.

While the contractor dealt with the door, my spouse removed the siding…

Only to find this buried underneath.

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It was at that exact moment the homeowner came out to check their progress and my husband had to explain, no… he wasn’t the artist.

🤣

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Random snippets

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I fear I may have tripped a disturbing algorithm by clicking on those pole dancing mice a while back.

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Now I’ve got a squirrel working the room for tips .

🥴

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Be still my heart.

I don’t have all the ingredients yet so if you beat me to it, let me know how they turn out.

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Required momma woodchuck photo.

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This decanter is wrong in so many ways I don’t know where to start…

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Pickle soup? Equally as wrong…

🤢

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News you can’t use

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If it’s Monday, it’s time for useless news.

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There’s a question I rarely ask myself.

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Now I’m twice as glad I don’t eat tofu.

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Poor beetle. When I wear my reading glasses I’ve been mistaken for a schoolteacher, … but poo? That’s got to hurt.

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Finally, a church worth attending.

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To heck with the Eucharist, ‘shrooms will help you meet Jesus quicker than stale crackers and boxed wine.

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I’ve got an idea… stop pooping in it.

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Sure. That’s an application totally worthy of crashing our electric grid.

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Is it me?

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Now that the new living room furniture is in place, it was time to start shopping for coffee tables. Ours are old and mismatched and bear too many dings and cat scratches to be serviceable.

After our nightmare replacement of windows, and doors, and floors…. I thought this would be a breeze. I didn’t want anything special, just one rectangle for in front of the couch and two square side tables in a medium wood finish. Drawers or no drawers. Stylish or plain. Traditional or modern.

I was leaving my husband at home… so I knew finding something to please me would be much quicker.

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Or not.

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I just wanted something simple.

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Something that didn’t look like a metal suitcase…

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Or a canoe.

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After five furniture stores…

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I came to the conclusion nothing is easy anymore.

🥴

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I know I sound like a broken record, but still…

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I can’t help it, I’m going to keep sharing these.

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Did you have a make believe friend when you were young? An invisible playmate to keep you company and act as confidant. I didn’t, but it seemed harmless enough.

Until now.

Welcome to the digital age when your fake friend might be a tad tricky.

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An AI companion?

Count me out.

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See?

Tricky.

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Autoeroticism and stabbing as conversation stimuli may be more than most people are looking for in a digital friend.

Or not.

It’s a crazy world…

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