Don’t groan, I know you enjoy these… even if you don’t want to admit it.
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I’ll get things rolling….
My rap name is LIL Cellulite Cream. Making slightly pudgy menopausal women over 50 shake their groove thing like they did before their thighs resembled cottage cheese.
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And before you store a disturbing mental image of my marbled thighs, summer is coming and the lotion I bought is more of a tightener. I’m not cheesy, just jiggly.
So the free pool table… the one that has cost us approximately $14,000 ( and counting ) in storage barn to man cave renovations… actually saw some action last weekend.
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Two of the husband’s coworkers came by for the afternoon (no worries, all 3 men are fully vaccinated) for Cajun gumbo, beer and pool. I don’t play, so I know my other half was happy. And me? I was happy because I received another bar christening gift.
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I’d never even heard of this whiskey but it turned out to have a pleasing toasted undertone.
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After two games of pool, it was determined the table needed to go from horizontal placement to vertical to allow more shooting space.
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Which then required multiple leveling maneuvers. Turns out the barn floor is not at all level. Shocking, I know.
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Play continued into the night, as did the whiskey drinking and strange reflections from the overhead lighting.
A good time was had by all… and let me tell you, it was nice to host even two people after a year of no socializing with friends.
Since skunking my husband at Scrabble has become a weekly pastime… I decided to up our game.
Literally.
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Bigger tiles for the where the hell did I leave my reading glasses now? visually challenged due to encroaching decrepitude crowd.
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And a much bigger, fancier, wooden, swiveling board with raised ridges to keep the letters in place.
How much bigger?
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Well, the box said giant and that’s a pretty apt description.
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So far we’re loving it.
But I’m afraid it’s going to have to be a permanent decorative fixture… because if you think the board is big, you should see the friggin’ enormous box it came in.