.
Because I don’t have time to post 50 pictures of squirrels or crap in the husband’s barn this morning.
.
.
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.
.
.
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!
Because laughter is literally the only medicine.
I haven’t walked into a bar in 142 days.
Let that sink in…. and tell me pigs aren’t flying somewhere.
Correct signage has never been more important.
I’m beginning to notice a trend.
He’s right.
We probably are.
Finally, a way to make men wear masks!
Thank you Katie.
And if all that was too depressing, let me leave you with this…..
You’re welcome.
Because you have to keep laughing.
That’s my plan.
If you have a better one, please share.
I wouldn’t doubt it at this point. Society does seem to be breaking down.
In Maine, a local reporter was interviewing random people last week, asking how they felt about the safety precautions … masks, social distancing, closures etc. When he asked a man who wasn’t wearing a mask… even though it was requested by the store and mandated by the town… the man spit on him.
That’s where we are.
So yeah… Godzilla really doesn’t seem too far fetched.
Dad jokes.
They’ll never die.
I hope so.
I certainly hope so.
Because if you don’t laugh, you’ll scream.
That’s the very definition of symmetry.
I can relate to this.
My bags are lonely… as well as heartbroken.
I’m not a religious person, but first plague…. now insects.
It’s mildly convincing, but I’m still holding out for water into wine.
Finally,
A protest I can get behind.
Well that’s depressing.
Because the answer to “what’s new?” has never been more boring.
Because we all need a chuckle.
Well done kitty.
Now step up your game and fetch us some toilet paper.
Does anyone think about all the poor out of work hookers?
No.
But I’m sure they’re feeling the pinch as well… although probably not in the places they’re used to.
Sad, but true.
Also sad, but true.
I read a cockroach can survive for 6 months without it’s brain. Hell, Keith’s got that record beat already.
Other places?
Ay caramba!
Even I’ll say amen to that.
I try not copy and paste things from Facebook very often….
And I know pandemics shouldn’t be taken lightly, but damn.
These reactions from the CDC to popular music lyrics made me laugh so hard I actually snorted.
So we got up bright and early to make the almost 5 hour drive down to North Carolina.
Required Christmas selfie.
And as we were walking down the sidewalk of our resort it struck me…..
I might not be the only one who cursed my husband’s choice of the behemoth rental car.
It was an uneventful trip.
But we saw lots of cotton.
Really, a whole lot of cotton.
And absolutely nothing else. Nothing for miles and miles… except cotton… and I was starting to sweat the steadily dropping level of gasoline.
Behemoths be thirsty.
I also took issue with Apple maps when the GPS put us in the middle of a National Forest and told us to turn around.
WTF?
When the rental beast was pretty much running on fumes, we finally found a service station to fill it…. and us, since we skipped breakfast. The only choice was Subway, where I ordered a rotisserie chicken wrap and managed to leak half of the sauce on my blouse resulting in a large greasy stain.
My first words upon arrival in N.C. weren’t “Merry Christmas!” but….. “Let me raid your closet.”
My second words were “What you would like to drink?” as I unpacked my carton of holiday cheer.
Destiny chose a bottle to match her sweater, because coordination is everything.
We gave them our gifts…. and Gracie liked the books.
Though I think she liked the pig a little bit more.
We spent time with our daughter of the heart’s step children, John being home on leave from the Army.
As you can see they aren’t young enough to be hers…. because like me, she married an older man. Which her mother thinks I’m responsible for and never lets me forget, but hey.
It worked for me.
An old Marine Corps buddy of the husband’s came with us…. and it was a laid back country Christmas with lots of love and laughter.
A few highlights:
My bartending skills were highly rated.
And strange toys were questioned.
Does a llama really need to shake her booty?
But more importantly, why was this horror voted toy of the year in Australia?
Watch the bizarre commercial that looks like a Saturday Night Live skit and decide for yourself.
Numerous pictures were taken.
Some with prominently placed bows. (These may have been alcohol induced)
Rick posed with his namesake shirt.
Dogs with serious underbites begged for treats from a wonderful brown sugar glazed ham dinner I completely devoured and forgot to photograph.
Sorry Martin.
Blame the carton of alcohol, not me.
Animated discussions of politics took place….. (Which might also have been alcohol induced)
But my husband smiled wider and laughed more than he has in a while, and that made my heart full.
Then before we were ready, it was time to say goodbye.
Hugs and tears….
And we were back on the road.
For the longest almost 5 hour trip ever.
The only bright spot?
This house…
That gave new meaning to the term holiday decorating.
Truly an extravaganza.
We all hate spell check, I get it.
But sometimes it makes me laugh….
And laugh hard.
Witness this morning when I was cruising WordPress with my iPhone and commenting on a post.
This post to be exact.
The author is funny as Hell, and as I was replying about her desire to send her cat and dog (who constantly try to trip her) to Fuckoffistan…
Spell check came up with this :
What?
You mean there really is a Fuckoffistan?
And I was spelling it incorrectly?
Damn.
You really do learn something new everyday.
