While we were stopped at our little local store (deer checking station, beer, lotto, local deer jerky..you know, kick ass redneck store!) some jackass peered into the car and said, "Is that a Llewellin? Does he hunt?"
Nope, he's a family dog.
"Wow. What a waste", he says.
|Poor Voo..he suffers so.|
"Uh..nothing wrong with a good family dog, but it's a shame if he's from good lines.."
"Well, none of my business"..and he fled.
WHY do people feel it's appropriate to give their completely freaking moronic opinion to complete strangers?
Plus, Voodoo points tomato horn worms and Japanese beetles for me. This is far more useful to me than pointing pheasants. I don't have a lot of pheasants or quail rampaging in the garden.
|"But you have bird feeders.. and lots of turkeys I can point!"|
We're supposed to have gorgeous weather this coming weekend..yayyy camping!!
Wait. No camping?! Maybe? Depends on Michael's coworkers (not including his work BFF) and head of HR getting their shit together ..for once?
Oh, God..we're screwed.
I felt something crawling in my hair and extracted a stinkbug. A stinkbug that sprayed me.
I took great pleasure in stomping his stankass.
It took three shampoos before I couldn't smell stinkbug.
To be fair, it's not a horrible smell..but Moderately Unpleasant bug doesn't roll off the tongue.
FYI: Asking Michael to "smell the back of my head and see if I still stink" got amusing results.
Stinkbugs are everywhere in our area (and the freakin' east coast). Open the door for a few minutes and they swarm in. They love to hunker down in annoying places like rolls of paper towels, the hood of your jacket or even better- your sock drawer.
"I swear, that stink isn't my feet."