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Let’s start the new year laughing.
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And I did.
Yay me!
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Bet you didn’t think of that, but it’s true all the same.
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Good grief, I hope not!
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I’m nothing if not consistent.
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The only appropriate thing to do to that horrible year.
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Amen to that!
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Because thankfully I can still laugh.
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Dogs are thrilled their owners are staying home. Cats? Not so much.
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*Shudders at the thought*
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It’s been a rough year for everyone.
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Thank God we have a refrigerator in the barn filled with tests.
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No comment necessary.
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Feed me Seymour!!!
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After hanging a seasonly appropriate wreath on the Barn Mahal’s door, I wandered inside.
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Which is where I found my husband knee deep in nostalgia and flipping through his high school yearbook.
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First we smiled at the graduation photo.
The hair. The prominent ears. The innocence of youth.
But then…
Then he showed me something I will never be able to erase from my memory.
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My husband… was a … gymnast?
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And not just any gymnast. No.
He was a covered from head to toe in silver paint gymnast.
What. The….
What????
He can’t remember exactly why they struck that pose…. But that’s him, crouching on the lower right.
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And I’m afraid the image is burned onto my retinas and into my frontal lobe.
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Laughing.
You need to do it…. so it might as well be here.
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I knew I was totally blameless! Now if someone would just tell my waistline…
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If we haven’t, we should .
Like right now.
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Karen. Still causing trouble…
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Not yet mind you, but come January it’s entirely possible.
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I saw a woman buy 13 bottles of bleach last week.
They walk among us.
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Because you have to laugh. Or at least I do..
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Nothing worse than a wannabe.
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I’m not sure I needed permission, but thanks anyway.
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Poor Rexy.
How the heck did he eat a taco?
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As rabid as some people have been during this election cycle, it wouldn’t surprise me.
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True.
We were going to retire and travel. Now I get excited if the grocery store has toilet paper.
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The perfect holiday ornament for a truly shitty year.
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Because life during Covid is easier if I can laugh.
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Sad, but true.
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If not, FFS…. somebody pull the plug.
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Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.
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Actually we can afford it, which is somehow even worse.
I miss traveling!
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The nerve of that guy.
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This would not surprise me.
Not one little bit.
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Because I’m still trying to find the humor in this shit show.
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They did. They really did…
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I feel like that’s actually happening. Not airborne bovines, but the decided lack of amazement. After surviving 2020? Nothing will faze me.
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This makes a morbid kind of sense.
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Uh oh.
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Wish me luck!
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I’m afraid I’m already there…
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Milton Berle said laughter is an instant vacation.
So you might as well laugh, because no one’s going to Cabo anytime soon.
This week’s selections have a theme….
Which is basically 2020 bites….
And we’re over it.
Never has there been such a crazy, utterly wasted year.
Yes….
That pretty much says it all.
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Because I don’t have time to post 50 pictures of squirrels or crap in the husband’s barn this morning.
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John Oliver is coming to rescue me.
Technically he’s not a fictional character, but if you watch the show…. you know he’s a character all the same.
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Of course with John doing the saving, I predict the rescue won’t go as planned and the kidnapper will have two hostages instead of one…
But at least I’ll be laughing while chained to that metal pole.
Who’s coming to rescue you?
Because laughter is the only contagious thing I want to catch.
That sounds about right.
We didn’t.
We really didn’t….
I’m all for this.
As hard as lock down has been, there are some people I’ve been quite happy to avoid.
I could totally rock that look.
Yeah.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve had it with the conspiracy theorists.
That’s so wrong.
Tight pants.
A pandemic symptom I can totally relate to.
Which brings me to the new anthem for the Covid age.
Sing it sister!
