Dear Faithful Blog Readers, Passersby, and Stalkers,
You only have a couple of days left to donate to Liza’s adoption fund for a chance to win a coach purse. Even if you’re a guy, this is a great opportunity. Just think how much your mom would love to get that purse from you this Christmas! Unless, of course, you have a wife. Then, perhaps, you should give that purse to her. Unless you really don’t like your wife. Actually, if you really don’t like your wife or you mother then you could always give it to your sister, or to that sexy Wal Mart door greeter who winks at you as she hastily shoves her teeth back in every time you walk in the door. Unless you have a girlfriend and you want her to become your wife. Then definitely you want to give her that purse; but you won’t be able to unless you go donate! And if you’re a woman? Well, then you know you want it because it’s Coach. Screw all that gift-giving blather.
Dear Oprah Winfrey,
As I was folding laundry the other day, I watched your show. It was the first time I’ve watched your show in years. It was also the first time in years that the word bloviate just *popped* into my head.
Dear Department of Agriculture,
Do you really expect me to believe that song and dance you gave me over the phone? Really??? You want to know how many acres I “operate” and how many bee colonies, horses, head of cattle, sheep, chickens, etc., etc. I have so that you, the federal government, can have the necessary supplies, equipment and paraphernalia on hand in case I need help? Seriously?!?! What next? Are you going to call me back and tell me you have a bridge for sale?
I am now listed in a federal database as someone who “refused” to answer the government’s questions (not even joking). Should my blog suddenly and mysteriously disappear or go quiet, you will know I am most likely being held in the Uncooperative Bee “Farmer” Gulag (the joking is commencing). I won’t be in the Uncooperative Horse “Farmer” Gulag because I never even indicated whether or not we have horses before I started asking why the government needs this information and responding that I highly doubt that song and dance about having my best interest at heart, and yes, I did get the form they sent me but I threw it away. Twice. And? If I need help with my bees I will consult books and/or contact a local beekeeping association, thankyouverymuch (all that stuff is true, just the Gulag part is the joke). The whole point of having those little stingers is to be more self-reliant, not to have the federal government snooping into my life and pretending they want to help me when what they probably want to do is figure out if they should levy a gas tax on horses and add honey bees to the imputed income list.
Dear Tank Boy,
Wrinkles are caused by aging, not by leprosy. I put all that goop on my face every morning because I am getting old. And no, your grandma does not need an intervention from Jesus.
The running after your sister and yelling/whining, “Mine! Mine! MINE!!!!” was getting quite annoying. But then? You threw in a heretofore unheard, “Give it back!” and I went from annoyed to happy. All this speech progress, and I haven’t even blown bubbles with you recently. What’s up with that?
If you are out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.