If a Bear Screams in the Wilderness will Anyone Hear it?

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Oh My Achy Breaky Heart

Lovely E and I have been having a splendid time in Florida with my dear friend, J, and we just got back from the Hannah Montana concert. Moms and daughters were rockin’ tonight!! J and I were exceptionally excited when we walked into the arena and were welcomed by a neon sign that read “Jack is Here”…and oh, Jack WAS there! Jack Daniels, that is. It was a crazy scene and we felt bad for those poor moms milling about without some sort of alcoholic beverage.

We made it through the throngs of high-pitched screaming girls (I’m pretty sure some of the screams were only heard by dogs) and fortunately didn’t have seizures from the intense light show and fireworks displays. Yes, damn it, we’re getting old. The kids had a fabulous time, but as always, I can find something to complain about in any situation – what the hell would I write about if I didn’t?

I had a hard time enjoying the concert because I was too busy fending off the blond bimbo that sat next to me. Every frickin’ time she started to take a photo of her kids she would twist herself right out of her seat and somehow her expansive ass would end up in my lap. Ugh. Then, she nearly blinded J as she flailed her outstretched arm across us and pointed her garishly long-nailed finger at someone or something across the arena. Not to mention she got a little too excited while swinging her glow in the dark concert ‘thingy’ around and around and around – I’m not sure if she was trying to hypnotize me with it or was getting ready to let that thing rip and whack me in the head. Good times.

We did have some fun after downing several drinks and embarrassing the heck out of our children when Billy Ray Cyrus appeared for the encore with his daughter. Our girls didn’t quite know what to do when their mothers began acting like obsessed teenagers and swooned over Mr. Achy Breaky Heart!

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Macho, Macho Man

The guy who plows my driveway has a crush on me. I’ve actually known this for quite some time but have never really given it much thought. We flirt when we occasionally cross each others paths, but that’s the extent of it.

He’s very sly about his operations – he plows my driveway (for free) when he knows I’m not dating anyone but will not plow my driveway when I’m dating someone. Clever little fellow. As I pulled into my neatly plowed driveway this afternoon I thought to myself, “Hmmm…what have I gotten myself into? First the policeman, now the plow-driver. My collection of suitors is starting to resemble the frickin’ Village People!” Now all I need to do is find myself an Indian, a cowboy, a sailor…and then I remember…the Village People were gay. Shit!

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Feisty Friday

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I Heart Snow

We got TONS of snow today, and look who’s enjoying it the most! Isn’t he the cutest thing? I heart my dog!

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