Of Lesbians and Turkey Basters

My alarm went off at the butt crack of dawn today, but as I reached over to hit the snooze button, I was tackled by a very annoyed Pupzilla, her mouth inches from my face, barking like she'd lost her damned mind. I explained to her that it was customary to hit the snooze button at least twice before we considered getting up, but she was having none of it. She wallered all over me, flopped down, snuggled for a few seconds then sprang to her feet, pawing at my head with her gargantuan paws.

"Do you wanna go outside? Gotta pee?" I asked.

I swear, the look on her face said, "THANK GOD! Now could you hurry up please? C'mon, get up!"

When we got to the back door, after a slight detour to slobber all over the cat and make a run through Ma's room, she shot out of there like a bat out of  hell, doing the running squat.

If you've never seen a giant furbaby doing the running squat at the butt crack of dawn, you are truly missing out on one of life's most entertaining moments.

~ ♥ ~

Frog Pond Holler is all abuzz about the new owners down at the campground store. They've renovated the kitchen, which is great, but the decision to stop selling hot breakfast biscuits has everyone's bloomers in a wad. We were discussing it here at the Cubicle Asylum yesterday afternoon as I stood in the hallway, halfway between Thelma and Lulu's offices.

"It's them lesbians what took over down there that's doin' it," Thelma decided.

"What lesbians?" I asked.

"You know, them that's got that big ol' baby. The ones what went up north somewheres and got the insimer... insimi... "

"Oh.. you mean she got turkey bastered," I explained.

"Who? What are you talking about?" Lulu asked from across the hall.

"What'd she say?" Thelma asked.

"Lulu's wanting to know who we're talking about." 

"It's them lesbians what live down the river by your mama n' em Lulu," Thelma yelled.

Lulu looked at me and mouthed, "What?"

This inspired me to holler across the hall in a very unprofessional manner, "IT'S SOME LESBIANS THAT THELMA KNOWS, THEY GOT 'EM ONE OF THEM TURKEY BASTER BABIES. THEY LIVE BY YOUR MAMA N' EM!!"

Lulu cracked up. I thought she might wet her granny panties. Thelma yelled from her desk, "THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID.. I MEAN IT IS.. BUT I DON'T KNOW THEM!! I DON'T KEEP COMPANY WITH THAT SORT!!!!"

"OOOHHHHHH," I said. "SHE SAID SHE KNOWS 'EM BUT SHE DON'T WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW ABOUT IT," I hollered across the hall.

Thelma's face turned beet red. So did Lulu's, but it was because she was gasping for air, not because she had an intense desire to rip my head from my shoulders and use it for a game of basketball, as Thelma did.

It's way more fun to totally humiliate some people around here when they start showing their ignorance than it is to try to argue with them.

~ ♥ ~

I've put the word out around the holler that I'm willing to pay anyone with a tiller to come down and give my dirt a good stir. They can name their price. I'm determined to have a garden.

~ ♥ ~

I want to thank everyone who left comments yesterday. Your words warmed my heart. I honestly don't know what I'd do if I didn't have all ya'll to listen to my rambling and share my stories with.

TGIF ya'll. Have a bootay kicking weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!