Tag Archives: news

I love my town.

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It’s time for small town news again…. so city folk can see what they’re missing.

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No worries. Said piggy was reunited with his family and is safely back home.

The want ads in small rural towns tend to look a bit different.

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Spleeny- New England : peevish and irritable with hypochondriac inclinations.

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I’m almost afraid to ask why someone wants to rehome a skeleton.

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I’m going to pass this one on to my husband because he came home from breakfast with the boys the other day bitching that his omelette had gone up a dollar.

I know I’m paying more for groceries, it stands to reason restaurants are as well.

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Pandemic humor

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Because I’m still trying to laugh.

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Funny, but true.

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For those of you who need pictorial directions.

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Brilliant idea. Wish they would do that.

And I know it’s too early for Christmas…. ( Yes people, it’s too damned early! Shove that elf back in the closet. Or better yet, burn it. I hate that little bastard. ) but I may need to buy this ornament.

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I love my town.

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Headline news is a little different in my small Maine town.

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Record breaking pepper? Someone call CNN!

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While I do have experience in caretaking bossy, moody diva cats and I seriously love me some chickens… fish? They’re just too needy.

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Momma Mia! That is one huge wasp domicile.

And finally, I saved the best for last.

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I’m crossing my fingers and toes this idea becomes a reality… and shall donate accordingly.

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Just a little grumble.

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We all know what passes for news these days is a joke. Gone are the days when reporters simply reported the facts and let you make up your own mind. Now there are left leaning stations and right leaning stations and we only listen to what we want to hear from those who reinforce views we already hold.

It’s a sad state of affairs.

And who determines what’s newsworthy? These days it’s probably based on the number of clicks… and that’s sadder still.

A while back I was scrolling through articles on my phone and saw this:

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Yes, this is what passes for news. A mother might have been scolding her child.

Alert the media!

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I think anyone who has had to deal with a teenage boy can relate to the “judgmental finger” but honestly…. did I need to know this? No.

Is it newsworthy? Not even close.

Am I done ranting?

Yes.

Yes I am.

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For all my male friends… a question.

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I read a disturbing article the other day. And while I may not be the most trendsetting, up to date person on the planet…. I have to ask.

Is this a thing?

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Forget about the charges and legal proceedings…. ‘semen terrorism”? Do men really go around ejaculating on unsuspecting women’s purses and coats?

WTH!

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Property damage or sex crime… whatever. Apparently South Korea is having an epidemic of men hiding cameras in women’s bathrooms and hotel rooms as well. But the semen thing? Come on, that’s beyond disgusting.

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In May, a male civil servant was sentenced to a fine of 3 million won on charges of “property damage” for ejaculating inside his female colleague’s coffee tumbler six times over the course of six months. The court judged that his actions “ruined” the utility of the container.

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Yes. That’s the issue.

A ruined coffee mug.

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Miscellaneous musings.

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I saw this the other day and was sorely tempted.

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I totally need cherry tomato toting ants.

In other local news….

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Such a neighborly thing to do.

And lately a dip in the pool has been sounding wonderful with temps being hot, hot, hot.

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Of course this is Maine, so while it felt like 104 one morning…

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Two days later it felt like 45.

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I replanted my left over garden bed with geraniums after the baby woodchucks ate all the petunias.

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But not before the little bastards darlings chewed all the leaves off my gay feather.

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At least they left the blooms this time.

🥴

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Now I’m wondering what an appropriate beef jerky card message would be.

I wanna hold your ham?

Nice to meat you?

Don’t go bacon my heart.

I have a t-bone to pick with you?

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I love my town.

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This month someone is seeking a new home for their goats.

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Nothing wrong with that… but the reason?

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Now that’s a bit disturbing. If you have to re-home your goats because of rats? You might want to re-examine your current living conditions as well as your livestock’s.

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Do you have a guy? We have a guy. I can’t tell you the name of our guy because then he would be your guy and wouldn’t have time to be ours.

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Aww. I haven’t seen the lost pig, but if these people are really the owners…. shouldn’t they know the pig’s gender by now?

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Okay, so not everyone is polite in our town.

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Bunny! In all the years we’ve lived here we’ve never had a visiting bunny. And from the text of the announcement, it’s now abundantly clear why. We simply don’t have the right kind of weed.

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It’s official, I can no longer be shocked.

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I have a gift. It’s not a gift I wanted or asked for, but it’s mine all the same.

My gift?

It’s finding the most ludicrous news stories on the planet. … like this one.

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No need to reach for your glasses, you read that correctly.

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A vagina beauty contest? Of course a sex toy manufacturer came up with that. I would expect no less.

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Modesty is so important. No one needs this trophy shoved in their face at a cocktail party.

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There’s so much to unpack there, I can’t even…

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There are factories full of stock vaginas? Why didn’t I know this!

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Let that one sink in for a moment. 182 women voluntarily sent in pictures of their hoohaa… to be voted on.

😳

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Talk about fear of not measuring up. And here I thought that was just men.

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Modest, yes.

But come on…. if she didn’t think she could win, she wouldn’t have entered!

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I love my town

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What passes for news in my little corner of the world might seem silly to some….

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But I like to think of our Facebook page as the New York Times of happy living.

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You’ll be glad to know this crisis was averted.

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I’m not sure if this a thing in your area, but in Maine late spring means it’s time to thin and divide the perennials. Some people sell them in their front lawn, but more often than not the bounty is simply shared.

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Go home Freyr. I don’t care how tasty the tuna is down the road.

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That’s one fluffy little cock.

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Damn. No one ever drops roosters off at our house.

🥴

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