RDCanecutter

I don't blame you. Gotta move fast when you find a keeper.

Had the first online class today, didn't I. Me and a few retired ladies, mostly from Scotland. Everybody nice enough. Instructor is awesome. Could star as Gandalf/Dumbledore/Yoda with a glorious white beard. He's patient and thoroughly knowledgeable, I noted down random insights that would have taken me months on my own, if then. In our everybody-get-to-know-each-other I mentioned that Mom was a McFamousClan to explain why I had grown up bombarded by faux American Scottishness, But Instructor was "McFamousClan? I used to visit your castle that they rebuilt after the Royal Navy blew it up because they were tired of your Jacobite Ways." Dammit. I have a CASTLE. And JACOBITE WAYS. My problems in 8th grade math class suddenly make sense. Gaelic word of the day: Seadh (pronounced "Shugh" but if you get it wrong would a man on a gallopin horse notice the difference? No.) It's the amazing get-out-of-jail word, if you've not been paying attention to what the other guy's been saying, and you have no idea what to say, just drop in Seadh, it's like "man" or "I hear you." You can totally zone out. Seadh.

Redhead in Yoga pants needs comforting. Except I'm probably the one she's shocked at.

Just between you n me because of the Bama connection, but when I was 16 I worked on a summer road crew job with Gill Gayle, who grew up to do better things like playing Soapy Smith in Deadwood. But no matter how well he does in acting, nothing will ever surpass the heroism of when the boss appointed the two of us (by far the skinniest of the lot) to shift several tons of glass beads (used for reflective signs) into a giant cube so management could cipher out how much they had left.

No matter how hot she is, some other guy is already tired of her shit. Probably starting when she robbed him. Or when she turned out to be 3 doods one of whom's cousin is a wiz at co-ding.

I reckon if they's minin' towns, then the real feller gittin rich is the one sellin corn whiskey. And shovels. And rentin rooms to crypto hooers. If we kin ever tear em away from Bankman-Fried.

I am poring over his website to steal a trick or two. Am I nuts, or is that a custom site? Doesn't give the vibe that he womped it out in Wordpress.

TBH kind of a mixed message in that post.

You passed the test, mijo. Blessings will come to you in keeping with your kind heart. It's thundering again here like it has for days when not raining. Not so much hurricane as normal wet hot jungle-rot season.

Y'a des cons partout.

Next time I agree to go to an outdoor art show during a Heat Advisory, one o y'all hit me in the head with a shovel.

Hey. I had to shake hands to get that job, dammit.

The people saying this, uh, did they look, um, well-marbled?

Every time I see these guys I think they're going to fix the copy machines.

And the big fat Dutch gals hand around the breadium, bully boys hey, bully boys ho! [And gentlemen ... now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not 19Delta...]

The Pom-Pom Girls kept ranks just like Regulars. My first thought is that we used to do that to each other, for fun.

Meh. You could take him out just by tricking him into moving at a walking pace.

What about that dude from Kentucky? Some good old chaw-backy horse-sense to counteract Harris' secret plan to have us all poop on the sidewalk?

They couldn't find my chest, even though I bench 50 pounds.

I miss the old SWA blue plastic strips with numbers on them that we'd hold up high while walking towards the gate. Like cattle with ear tags, except we used our opposable thumbs.

Ah luv thet checken frum Popeyes.

It takes more time for an American to supervise the harvest on his lands, then proceed by coach along roads that may be rendered impassible by rains.

I am a grenade hoarder, not some fancy artillerist.

Oh that's West Selma, where I used to live. My town now, they're using their energy to rebuild their houses to take up every square inch of the lot, and they use one of two designs: either recreating The Prancing Pony inn in Bree, or else building a warehouse designed to look like a small cottage with double human proportions. I'm talking an HO scale house sitting on an N scale layout. No boats, hardly any trucks. We do have tiny angry women in Range Rovers who tailgate.

Yeah. Last night my neighbors must have busted out some 81mm mortars.