Don't Read This

Rambling...that's my middle name. I would change it, but I don't like change...unless it's jingley change. That I like. That and donuts. But not the "fat-free" kind. Those are yucky. What was I saying?

11/22/09 1:04 PM

Dog Food Tastes Like Chicken!

My next door neighbor can be so testy at times. She came to my door yelling and screaming because I gave her hungry dog some food. Okay, it was her little kid, but he was starving! Actually, he's a little porker and I know you shouldn't feed children dog food, but it was all I had. And dog food tastes good! Actually, it doesn't and I would know because I tried some once when I was a little kid. Fine, it was last week, but there was a good reason. I hadn't done my weekly shopping and I still had two big ol' cans of Alpo on the top shelf that I was saving for the next time my son forgot to clean out the septic tank. Children can be so forgetful! Like that time my son forgot to...well, I forget what he did, but I bet he won't forget the lesson he learned after eating a bowl of kibble!

The social worker didn't forget either, actually, and said that she was going to open an investigation. I just laughed and laughed and said I'd open a can of whoop ass on her if she darkened my doorstep again. Those people can be so nosy, am I right? I am a very good parent, everybody says so. Well, not everybody but at least one person and who cares if it's my mother who suffers from Alzheimer's? It's true that she chewed on her bathrobe and said, "Man, these french fries are tough" and once tried to smoke her finger, but she knows good parenting when she sees it.

One of the best ways to be an effective parent is to always teach your child new things. Like arithmetic, spelling and the fine art of chimney sweeping. That's a valuable skill, I'll tell you! And my little son's the best at it. Or he will be once he is discharged from the burn unit. I discovered that you should always make sure the fire is out before you lower your kid down the chimney. Woops! I quickly found out, though, when he started screaming, "AAAAHHH GOD, I'VE ENTERED HELL!!

Well, dear readers, that's all that's going on in my life this lovely Sunday morning. Now I must go because my mother is out front arguing with the garden gnome. Toodles!
About the Author
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I was born in Rangoon and was raised by a one-legged goat-herder who suffered from halitosis, crunchy hair, and a cough due to cold. One day while I was out helping my goat-herding legal guardian collect a couple of stray goats who were bleating and eating our neighbor's poppies (they weren't really poppies...they were carrots, but he tried to fool us so we wouldn't eat his "upside down flowers"), I happened upon a book written by Mark Tween (yes, I know it sounds the same as that other guy, but trust wasn't him) and instantly fell in love with book binding. It was beautiful.

Later when I was in high school (okay, prison, but they did teach us things), I decided I wanted to become an amateur milk I went to finishing school (where I learned to finish the folk tales I used to spin but never finish when I was a kid and an old plate of beets I refused to eat when I was eight because they reminded me of my Aunt Edna's blood boils)...and the rest, as they say, is history. Well, not the kind you'd read in a book...unless you happen to be writing a book about me, which would be pretty unlikely...unless you're my mother and someone raised you from the dead. She's not actually dead, but that's what she always screams at my brother. "You make me so mad, I wish I was DEAD!"

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