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Stop The Presses! Alert The Media!

Three posts in a row? What the hell is going on here? My insomnia. That's what's going on here. Gah.

When I used to stay with my Gramma during the summers, I hated it. She lived in a town that, at the time, had oh, I don't know, 3000 people in it. By "in it" I mean half lived on farms on the outskirts of town. It was rinkydink. One stoplight that blinked at 10pm during the week and 5pm on Sundays. You blink, you miss it. It does have a Subway and Hardee's though. The Pizza Hut went out of business though I don't see how that is humanly possible. They make the best gut rot pizza around. Hello?! Anyway....small towns suck when you're a teenager. When you get older? You appreciate the hard work that goes into the community. There was a parade while we were up there this weekend and it took me back to the Threshing Day parades Gramma and I would watch together. They threw out candy way back then to the kids and I was thrilled to see they still do. This was the first parade for my kids and I only wish my Gramma could be there to see the looks of pure joy on their faces when they saw the clowns, the cars and the candy. Oh the ten pound bag of candy these kids collected. No lie. We weighed it. TEN POUNDS. Hello dentist, how are you?


Peanut was liking the clowns. Echo was not so sure about them.

This float was designed to show people how drinking and driving is dangerous. DUI's will get your tushy in jail. The area we were in had problems before with people on the reservation nearby stealing cars, getting drunk, taking the car back to the reservation and torching the thing. The irony of the "prisoners" being from the reservation was not lost on any of us. In some ways I think it shows how small towns are. They show you, in subtle ways, how some people feel about things. I may be way off base about that (and probably am) but really, I think it's funny they chose to do the float. I'm also an ass though too so if you don't think it's funny, tough patooties.

Her 13th piece of candy. A gumball the size of Conneticut that I told her father not to let her have. I think she may be upset at me for telling her no more.

His feet don't come near the ground when he stops. I like to call him Daniel Cook.

He came up to me out of nowhere and declared he had an injury. Alrighty then Mr. Serious Face who's committed to the part of invalid.


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