Friday Fill Ins

• . I plan to continue to kick ass and take names in October. Then I'm going to sell those names to Russian bots. Those people will get endless phone calls about car insurance from failed rap stars. 
• Finding a real sunny spot, a perfect sunny spot where the sun is just beaming down and all of its glow and warmth is in one puddle was the highlight of my week.
• Tis the season for putting up freaking 8-foot skeletons. Why the hell would someone put that in their yard? I thought it was a giant zombie apocalypse. For God's sakes, is that even cute? What is going on? Who has money? I thought we were having economy problems. I thought everyone was struggling. No, everyone's buying 70-foot skeletons to scare the crap out of little dogs. That's okay, I got their names. I'm selling them to Russian bots. Great news for them. Their transmission is covered.
•  Though a lot of people like sex, I can't stand it. It has no desire to me. Not since that day they took me for the car ride and for my special operation. You think they're connected?

Poetry Thursday

 

Larry didn't know how it came to pass.

Was it a sentence, community service, or a curse for some long-forgotten trespass.

Larry didn't want to complain en masse.

But for some reason, he had to walk for eternity with a guy on his ass.

Larry went to the Willis pond

A place of which he fond

But he could now only go to the submerged tree trunk not beyond

Because the man on Larry was not a strong swimmer, if they went out too far, he would drowned

One day, a frustrated Larry asked the man what he'd done to get stuck up a duck's butt.

He explained he had owned a bait shop where he sold machine guns to hunters to massacre ducks for a healthy cut

When he died, knowing he had killed so many ducks his gate would be you know what.

He cut a deal to be supportive of ducks and one duck’s butt 

Larry and the mannwent to a bar to drink Fosters 

and to ponder.

 Who possibly could such a thing conjure? 

When Larry realized it could only have been a decision made by Judge foley monster 

They found Foley going through her briefs while lying on the grass.

They said that they weren't here to harass, but they’d like to know why she ordered the poor guy to spend eternity with his head up a duck's ass.

Folet said the punishment. wasn't just established for laughs. 

But to also punish Larry who, when angered that he was shot at by the man the duck flew up his butt causing the hunter's heart to crash.

Taking into account their arrival at the bridge Foley decreed that they spend eternity together. It was only right. 

But if they did well, maybe a compromise could end their plight.

 Then Foley gathered her briefs and walked in the door. Before dipping out of sight,

 She gave a knowing wink to the first readers of this blog, whose first words were written by Foley 17 years ago. Then she wished everyone a good night.

Beat This Caption

 

So, after tempting Adam with apple, Eve bit it, and long story short: You are going to the vet tommow morning to get your ovaries removed, and before I forget there is no breakfast either. How you like them apples?

Monday Question

 When was the last time you were locked in a cage or a room “for your own good.”

Ruby’s Answer - while the EMTs were in the house to check out Mommy when she fell I was locked in the bedroom “for my own good.”

Ruby's Sunday Funnies

During my check-up I asked the Doctor, "Do you think I'll live a long and healthy life then?" He replied, "I doubt it somehow. Mercury is in Uranus right now." I said, "I don't go in for any of that astrology nonsense." He replied, "Neither do I. My thermometer just broke."

A cruise ship passes by a remote island, and all the passengers see a bearded man running around and waving his arms wildly. “Captain,” one passenger asks, “who is that man over there?” “I have no idea,” the captain says, “but he goes nuts every year when we pass him.”

The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the proxy father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife goodbye and said, "Well, I'm off now. The man should be here soon."
Half an hour later, just by chance, a door-to-door baby photographer happened to ring the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, Ma'am", he said, "I've come to..."
"Oh, no need to explain," Mrs. Smith cut in, embarrassed, "I've been expecting you."
"Have you really?" said the photographer. "Well, that's good. Did you know babies are my specialty?"
"Well that's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat."
After a moment she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"
"Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch, and perhaps a couple on the bed. And sometimes the living room floor is fun. You can really spread out there."
"Bathtub, living room floor? No wonder it didn't work out for Harry and me!"
"Well, Ma'am, none of us can guarantee a good one every time, but if we try several different positions and I shoot from six or seven angles, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."
"My, that's a lot!" gasped Mrs. Smith.
"Ma'am, in my line of work a man has to take his time. I'd love to be in and out in five minutes, but I'm sure you'd be disappointed with that."
"Don't I know it," said Mrs. Smith quietly.
The photographer opened his briefcase and pulled out a portfolio of his baby pictures. "This was done on the top of a bus," he said.
"Oh my God!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, grasping at her throat.
"And these twins turned out exceptionally well - when you consider their mother was so difficult to work with."
"She was difficult?" asked Mrs. Smith.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. I finally had to take her to the park to get the job done right. People were crowding around four and five deep to get a good look."
"Four and five deep?" said Mrs. Smith, her eyes wide with amazement.
"Yes," the photographer replied. "And for more than three hours, too. The mother was constantly squealing and yelling - I could hardly concentrate and when darkness approached I had to rush my shots. Finally, when the squirrels began nibbling on my equipment, I just had to pack it all in."
Mrs. Smith leaned forward. "Do you mean they actually chewed on your, uh.. equipment?"
"It's true, Ma'am, yes.. Well, if you're ready, I'll set-up my tripod and we can get to work right away."
"Tripod?"
"Oh yes, Ma'am. I need to use a tripod to rest my Canon on. It's much too big to be held in the hand very long."
Mrs. Smith fainted.

Friendly Fill Ins

 

It is time for Fill 'em Fridays brought to you by my friends, the Two Spoiled Cats and the pack at fifteen and meowing. They provide a short statement in black text. The rest is for me to fill in, which is written in blue.

I am glad I live near my pee pads. Otherwise, it would be inconvenient: I'm sitting around watching TV, suddenly I have to pee, and I realize I have to go down the street to use my pad. I have to tip the pee pad attendant because you know how they are and then I walk home, and as soon as I take off my galoshes, I have to pee again.

I am glad I don't live near Iran. It's noisy over there. Things keep blowing up. There are sporadic fireworks, and people yell “gun” all the time. It's terrible. I can't believe I was suckered into buying a timeshare on a beach there. As soon as I find it, I am out of Tehran for good.

I didn't know I had an eighth nipple until five days ago. I thought I was a seven-nipple girl. Sure, I wasn't even. I had to wear my girdle a little higher on one side. But that was okay. The other day, I thought I had tracked down a mosquito bite on me. When I looked at it, I discovered the new nipple. You don't know the joy of finding a hidden nipple. And now I have eight, which is almost the most you can have. Two more nipples to go, and I'm a full nipple girl.

Your blog posts make me truly laugh. They also make me sad sometimes. But my favorites are the ones that make me hungry. Pictures of food. List of ingredients. Beautiful descriptions of the sizzling beef. And on Saturday comes cooking with chocolate day.  More pictures of food, please.

Wordless