Today, in an attempt to get the horses out of a flood, we temporarily moved them to the barn across the street, whereupon Beau (aka, Idiot Boy) promptly kicked in the side of the stall and destroyed a feeder. I rest my case.
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My new polo boots fit, and I can bend my knees in them. Yay!
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Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and once again I resisted the urge to loot and pillage. Go team!
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How many handicapped people are there? Judging by the number of license plate stickers on the freeway during my commute, this state is running at about 15%. At some point the differently abled aren’t abled any differently than everyone else. And one more thing: if you are able to climb in order to get into your huge truck, I’m not giving up a parking space to you. Deal with it.
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Anyone want a young English Bulldog? I know of one that is looking for a home. If you are interested, please send an email with the approximate amount you intend to spend on dermatologists and air conditioning bills for this dog in the next year. The person who guesses closest wins (hah!) the dog. (But seriously, if you know someone who likes bulldogs, this guy apparently has a great personality.)
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Wow, this whole plan of drinking margaritas until I came up with a blog entry worked great!
Looting and pillaging? You mean you want all that sappy Hallmark stuff? I guess I don't know you that well after all...
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