The Horribly Fat Story
In which a stupid adjective almost killed my marriage
In which a stupid adjective almost killed my marriage
I’m battling a nasty earworm for the last couple days. Let me share it with you.
Here’s the absolutely true story of a surprise that changed my life.
Join my dog on his daily Shakespearean quest, in verse
A safety update and semi-random thoughts on the wildfires burning in Spokane.
What’s so interesting about dog painting demos at craft fairs? You never know what’s going to happen next.
It’s morning. I’m laying in bed. I look at the clock radio and note the hour. It is that groggy time between “Just another ten minutes,” and “Get your butt out of bed, Cupcake!” I turn on the radio to get weather and propaganda updates (because Right-Think is always the Best-Think!). The station is in the middle of an advertisement, of course. This one is for–I kid you not–a divorce support service. Their tagline: “Let …
Every time I encounter a flat earth believer, it’s like coming across a highway accident. As I slowly inch by the sputtering road flares, I try not to look at the broken inferences, non-sequiturs, and bloody analogies strewn on the road. But look I must. In doing so I feel pity and sadness at the loss of another misled mind that swerved into oncoming science, saying to myself, “if only they had been secured by …
Our yearly trip was, as usual, full of adventure, misadventure, and lessons learned.
It’s finally warming up around here. Time to think about showing some skin!