Tag Archives: rude

I shouldn’t be surprised.


We’ve become a society with no limits. And while I don’t pretend to be a prude, I still believe there’s such a thing as common decency… in action and speech.

I’m a democrat who dislikes Donald Trump, but I wouldn’t install a “F*ck Trump” sign on my lawn like the family down the road who have a giant “F*ck Biden” poster prominently displayed on their garage.

Decency. It’s definitely in short supply.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now. Heck, after a years worth of that Cosmopolitan smut nothing should surprise me… but the ads I saw for apparel the other day did.






I honestly can’t think of a worse Christmas gift.



As someone who always needs a cocktail, I find myself more than a little offended.

Sarcastic, slightly off color, double entendre humor? Big fan.

Rude and crude, put it all out there without nuance, shock value humor? Not so much.


Random clutter


Question: Does Lord Dudley Mountcatten need to travel around the block like a little astronaut?



Answer: He most definitely does not.



Jesus wept. Somewhere, someone thought this was a good idea.



Albino broccoli? I can see that….



I’m over the abundance of rude license plates you see on the roads these days. They’re not funny, just rude.



You know you haven’t been drinking enough barn cocktails when you reach for some fruit… but find you could harvest penicillin instead.



I think identifying these as “American” is overkill.

As if any other country would do this….


Things I may have to buy.


I saw a list of things you should buy your significant other to show how much you love them yesterday. And while none of these products fit that bill…. they did make me chuckle at the thought of owning them and putting them in the barn bar.



Come on, you know that will come in handy someday.



Bar mascot? It could be.



Maybe if I get the husband one of these he can practice on pizza for his next remodel project. Eating those mistakes will be a lot more enjoyable than staring at his construction errors for the next 20 years.


Nasty spam.


My spam folder is definitely getting blue.

And at times? It’s down right crude.


For example, I found this the other day.


Resort hopping Part 3… The Eagle Mountain House.


free porn pics of carmen hayes dos teens violently fucked doggy style.
royal doulton vintage clock girl cums during creampie lesbian triangles
meet women for sex dodge center Minnesota free gay foot torture.


There’s a lot to unpack here, but let’s break it down shall we?

I don’t know who Carmen Hayes is, but I’m thinking perhaps the ASPCA should be notified.


 As you know, the husband and I wander around a lot of antique stores…. but I’m pretty sure I’ve never run across that particular piece of Royal Doulton. Nor do I want to.



And can someone please enlighten me, because clearly I lead a sheltered life in Maine. What exactly is a sex dodge center? The only mental image I have is dodgeball and that can’t be right. Or is it….


Free gay foot torture. While I appreciate a good deal as much as the next girl…. I think my bunions and I will have to pass on that.



F*** you Jamie Rosko.


I’m getting so much spam right now I rarely read it like I used to. But as I was hitting the delete button today? This one made me laugh.


Jamie Rosko


an hour ago·extraproxies.com/buy-proxies/2000-proxy-pa


The very next time I read a blog, Hopefully it won’t disappoint me as much as this particular one. After all, Yes, it was my choice to read, nonetheless I really believed you would have something helpful to say. All I hear is a bunch of complaining about something that you could possibly fix if you were not too busy seeking attention.




Well, that was uncalled for… not to mention downright rude. And on a perfectly respectable post about our visit to the Grand Canyon no less. I mean really, who doesn’t enjoy a nice hermit reunion?

There’s just no pleasing some people.


CSA and more rude produce.


This week’s CSA bounty was full.



With onions, fairy tale eggplants, celery, garlic, basil, rainbow chard, tomatoes, carrots, and salad mix.

But did you see it?

There, on the right hand side…



A slightly wrong tomato.



It’s either flipping me off…



Or sticking out it’s tongue.



Either way?

It’s rude produce, and that’s just wrong.

Well, crap.


And yes, I mean that literally.

Continue at your own risk.

Remember, you were warned.



And I’m not talking about a little poo. No.

To be precise….



It’s a dozen piles of crap.




On top of our stone wall.









All along the top of the wall….






It looks like skunk to me, although why the little devil feels the need to climb up there and poop every night is beyond me.

Day 16…. the trip home.


As we were leaving the resort for the 12 hour plus drive home, I found this behind a door.




Clearly the previous tenants vacationed in the coat closet and didn’t want to be disturbed.

And yes, you read that correctly. This will be my last blog about the Williamsburg, Virginia vacation.



To think it only took me 60 posts to get here!

So…. it was a grey overcast morning the day we left.




And I have absolutely no idea what this was.




But here’s the Washington Monument….




And the entrance to a tunnel.




Was my husband obeying the speed limit?





He never does, but when you’re riding in a rental Brontosaurus and the lanes get smaller due to construction? My blood pressure ruses when he approaches 100 mph.




I also look out the side window a lot.





Although it’s hard to focus properly at that speed.




Playing with my phone helps…




As does laughing at some slightly painful road names.




Here’s the Delaware Memorial Bridge.




And the toll ticket that cut off our George Washington Bridge exit price on the bottom.




For those of you who have never seen the New York City skyline on an overcast day from the New Jersey Turnpike at 90 mph?




Here you go.







Next up was the George Washington Bridge, where I usually close my eyes and pray to the God of Tequila that I’ll live to see another margarita.




Ironically… as soon as I started filming, the husband slowed down. Which is a good thing since the roads were potholed and in horrible shape.



Traffic was a nightmare.




But it always is.




And every time we pass these massive apartment complexes….




I realize how blessed we are to  live in the country.




Was this water blowing off the top of that truck?

No. It was smoke, because something was probably on fire. When we crept up next to it and signaled the driver there was a problem?

He flipped us off.




Ya gotta love New Yorkers.




The rest of the trip was long, traffic laden and uneventful.

We were even too pooped to make our normal pit stop at the tax free New Hampshire liquor store.




Technically I took a few more…. but still.

Why is sitting in car doing absolutely nothing for 13 hours so damn tiring?