nothing thirteen about today

last day of school! yay! we had a party at the neighbor's house! water fun! Not as cool as the party we weren't invited to, which included a moon bounce, but probably more fun because we flooded the back yard with good times.

I have nothing to add to that. I can't even make a list of thirteen things the boys will do this summer because I'm not sure they'll do thirteen things among the three of them.

I've been cruising round the internet while I waited for my stomach to stop bugging me. Over at Aunt B's I discovered that you can actually take on the Rotten Digestion Lifestyle! Pay good money for appalling symptoms. Oh boy! DIY Dysentery.

Skip the onerous nonsense of diet and exercise nonsense and get alli to do the job for you. Oily uncontrollable poop'll make you stay home or at least decide to wear dark clothes. You might want to put together an "alli-oops" kit if you actually have to go out.

Unbelievably Ugh.

Tomorrow I will take some dog pictures. I have to get the corn dog photo to show to corn dog, dang it.

Comments

  1. Rosie9:18 PM

    I was always a Mom (still) who hated being enslaved by the school bell. Happiest words in the world are "school's out for summer".

    ReplyDelete
  2. Bobbie (Sunny) Cole12:19 PM

    #1 Son and I used to play a game called Water War - started when he was 3 and out of daycare for summer (I was teaching public schools at the time). I opened a kitchen window and threw water bombs at him - pissed that kid smooth off. But I'd hidden several water bombs outside, plus squirt guns.

    The game started the first time I'd water-bomb or attack him each year, and it became something we both looked forward to until he was like 15 and could destroy me with one water bomb or a super squirter. *wry grin*

    Anyway, you brought back memories with this post.

    hugs, chick...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Corn Dog3:39 PM

    Well, umm, I'm so senile I don't remember what corn dog photo you were going to show me but I'd like to see one if you have one.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

more fun and hi-jinks at RWA.

To the Board of Directors of the Romance Writers of America: It has been brought to our attention, by several of our romance authors, that your organization no longer considers Medallion Press, Inc. a legitimate publisher according to your guidelines. We were surprised we did not receive official notification directly, but instead discovered it was posted on several RWA internet loops. Accordingly, we request this letter be published in its entirety in the RWR Report so all members may understand the nature of the process that eliminated Medallion as an RWA approved publisher. We will also send copies of this letter to all our own RWA member authors. We are dismayed you declared Medallion Press no longer a legitimate publisher. In July of 2004 we met all of your qualifications without incident by showing sales of 5000+ copies of USA Today Bestselling author Nan Ryan's The Last Dance. Several months prior to Book Expo America 2005, we received a call from your office alerting us to
Read more

No snark. Bad puppy. No. (Review stuff.)

A two star Amazon review on His American Detective: "Bodice ripper about gay men by a woman." and I'm longing to comment "don't you mean a waistcoat ripper?" God, no. Stop me. The reviews rarely rattle me any longer -- except when I spot a truth in a bad one. When that happens, I actually lose sleep. This means I still care about writing.  Speaking of reviewers and writers: A couple of days ago, a writer said she was tired of getting white ladies writing reviews of her books. She had an excellent point in the long run: her stories are meant for a particular audience and she wants them to resonate with those people and get more reviews from them.  But that first line was just....horribly obnoxious. I say this from my POV of course. Not a white lady who writes reviews -- but as a review grubber.   Anyone who disses any reader (especially ones that give honest reviews) deserves to be cast into the pit of being ignored.  
Read more