NEW RELEASES
In Our Humble Opinion . . . the guy who wrote “Sh*t My Dad Says” would know his father is normal if he ever met our mothers.
Why don’t the Help icons ever give any actual help?
Arg! Amylynn and Ava are frustrated. Well, actually, Amylynn is super frustrated, Ava will be really frustrated by the time the end of tomorrow rolls around and she’s had to listen to Amylynn for nine straight hours gripe about how she can’t figure out why she can’t post a picture on this stupid blog. Kelli will also be frustrated after lunch when she’s had to listen to Amylynn piss and moan about how she’s frustrated that she can’t figure out why she can’t post pictures to this stupid blog.
So guess what? I can’t figure out what’s wrong with this stupid blog and every single thing I want to write about will only be good with a damn picture. Last night I had a great picture of Winnie the Wonder Mutt to accompany my ode to the crazy puppy blog. Also, I tracked down the cutest picture of a groundhog you’ ve ever seen to go with all the groundhog themed In Our Humble Opinions today.
ARG!
As soon as Kelli figures this out, I’ll post all my stockpiled pictures and write the blogs that require pictures.
Until then…… Pray for me. I’m not good when I don’t get my way. I won’t say I’m spoiled, it’s just that I always get my way.
In Our Humble Opinion…groundhogs are kinda cute and not at all as hard to smuggle as panda bears.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . Punxsutawney Phil might not have graduated from weather school because he’s a groundhog.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . all groundhogs that predict 6 more weeks of winter should be made into groundhog stew.
In Our Humble Opinion . . . one should not wear a groundhog as a hat.
Winifred the Wonder Mutt
I’ll bet you’ve been wondering about that puppy we got. Yeah, me, too.
I think there’s something wrong with her.
I’ve never seen a dog wiggle so much in my life. Also, she’s growing at an alarming rate. Probably because she eats everything. Possibly she’s part goat. She’s eaten cups and shoes and a hole in my jeans along with a zillion stuffed animals, a rug and a sled. Yes, a sled.
Also, she does a lot of growling. A lot. Like really a lot.
She likes to race down the hall at full speed, pass through the door into my bedroom, dart between my dresser and the foot board and dive under the bed. Remember how I told you she was growing a lot? I’m certain that within a week I’m going to have to disassemble my king-sized bed to extract her from underneath. I don’t know what’s she’s doing under there besides pestering the cat, but I guess that provides enough entertainment to warrant the risk. Besides the possibility of getting stuck, there is a very real chance the cat will kill her while she’s under there.
Actually, I thought the cat harbored nothing buy animosity towards Winnie, but the other day I found said cat sitting patiently in front of her, his head bowed and Winnie carefully cleaning his ears. I knew from then on all his veiled and not so veiled threats were hooey. Geddy the Cat secretly likes her.
It’s sorta hard not too with all that happy wiggling.
Her favorite delicacy is cat poop. YUM! Yes, cat poop. Fresh or stale it doesn’t matter. A nice slab of cat poop with a side of kitty litter. You can always tell she’s been partaking because she’ll run up to you, her face dotted with white litter particles, and pant right in your face with all the enthusiasm she can muster. And believe me, that’s a lot of enthusiasm. It’s just the best smell ever!
She and Roscoe the Idiot Dog get along famously and it’s apparent they adore each other. He’s taught her all kinds of neat tricks. The other day, My Honey and the kids came home and found her on the kitchen table staring out the window waiting for them to come home.
Of all the tricks he could have chosen to teach her, boy am I glad he picked that one.