tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59102762284903502392024-03-13T16:44:01.371-07:00Not For a MillionI wouldn't mind having a little extra cash, but there are things and people I would not do for a million dollars.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-82216382533395889712009-07-11T13:02:00.000-07:002009-07-11T17:34:38.631-07:00Now, don't laugh.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sljv68hgnYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/1EWZIDV46w4/s1600-h/lol.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sljv68hgnYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/1EWZIDV46w4/s320/lol.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357295552715332994" border="0" /></a><br />You know how some people's laugh sounds like a gasp for air? Like their throat is being constricted while they're trying to inhale? And you know how some people do that laugh really slowly when they're fake laughing? And you know how obnoxious it sounds? And you know how if they're sitting in the same office with you and they're having a long, drawn out, condescending, judgmental conversation with someone else you don't like about yet another person you don't like and they do that gasp laugh thing over and over and over and over and over and over?<br /><br />Yeah. If I ever do that, please feel free to hit me with a large, heavy object. Repeatedly.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-41094840005726572992009-07-05T11:10:00.001-07:002009-07-05T11:19:03.061-07:00Muffin top<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SlDswYRBMPI/AAAAAAAAAFA/xbKGr_qLk0Y/s1600-h/mt.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SlDswYRBMPI/AAAAAAAAAFA/xbKGr_qLk0Y/s320/mt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355040272835227890" border="0" /></a><br />Now, I'm not saying I wouldn't <span style="font-style: italic;">have</span> a muffin top for a million dollars. Heaven knows I already have the equipment with which to create one. What I'm saying is that I wouldn't willingly inflict such a thing on the world. I don't know why stores refuse to sell pants with waistlines that actually sit at the waist. Hip huggers make sense for those who are a size 4 or below, but they shouldn't be sold in my size...which is a bit more than 4.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-56599504837597852422009-06-20T13:33:00.000-07:002009-06-20T13:40:32.029-07:00Geritol and Flintstones<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sj1Ip6E8onI/AAAAAAAAAE4/nKrZ4wM9wwU/s1600-h/kings.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sj1Ip6E8onI/AAAAAAAAAE4/nKrZ4wM9wwU/s320/kings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349511817187861106" border="0" /></a><br />Mr. and Mrs. Larry King just make me feel all icky. They came to town last night to present the Singin' and Story-Tellin' King Family Revue. I didn't attend.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-7990005267186660212009-06-15T10:47:00.000-07:002009-06-15T10:50:55.393-07:00Seriously, seriously. Not for a million dollars.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-zcDfSwfOwOlDV8wRZ26y1_MjI1poIu5H6qEARe9vzonTCwKXOBY3o2vUbsyaqA3kVAdBchTvkZsJuWXT8u3UrT6qRU9NzNOWmU-R-JsOXUhHid3Xcw4waoma_rRrnuHEBzkcGsg31OM/s1600-h/05+crazy.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-zcDfSwfOwOlDV8wRZ26y1_MjI1poIu5H6qEARe9vzonTCwKXOBY3o2vUbsyaqA3kVAdBchTvkZsJuWXT8u3UrT6qRU9NzNOWmU-R-JsOXUhHid3Xcw4waoma_rRrnuHEBzkcGsg31OM/s320/05+crazy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347612664671350482" border="0" /></a><br />Few game shows exist that would entice me out of my nice, comfy, introverted shell. "Who Wants to Be A Millionaire" is one.<br /><br />"Wipeout" is not.<br /><br />How does one network go to such extremes?<br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-55888964706836778192009-06-08T20:58:00.000-07:002009-06-08T21:01:47.937-07:00Ooo, how embarrassing.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_2KCuIocOONy-TSRa0gyJj8VqKOS34bZcyU4J68DSRrThEmsY-kd-Hy6kIDC0eQUwTEIde-H4k69WgVH26PeZMza9scWtLflR_i26yIsyKAB-vVQ8Ho9Sxa5N-R9KX-fAFJWLy4w5l8/s1600-h/diamond+grill.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_2KCuIocOONy-TSRa0gyJj8VqKOS34bZcyU4J68DSRrThEmsY-kd-Hy6kIDC0eQUwTEIde-H4k69WgVH26PeZMza9scWtLflR_i26yIsyKAB-vVQ8Ho9Sxa5N-R9KX-fAFJWLy4w5l8/s320/diamond+grill.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345172543225370930" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Oh, yuck. There's something on his teeth. Ew. Now, what does he do when he eats a spinach and strawberry salad? Are his friends going to be kind enough to tell him what's stuck in his grill?<br /><br />I think there's something going wrong all up in his mizzle. I'm just sayin'. Is all.<br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-58276811181134437552009-06-07T09:24:00.000-07:002009-06-07T09:26:22.880-07:00I disagree with the show's title<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sivp8o12n3I/AAAAAAAAAEo/xpZ_Yb7Ekns/s1600-h/celeb.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sivp8o12n3I/AAAAAAAAAEo/xpZ_Yb7Ekns/s320/celeb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344622610769944434" border="0" /></a><br /><br />No, you're not.<br />And I'd much rather leave you there.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-34927198307538148112009-05-31T21:08:00.001-07:002009-05-31T21:12:06.229-07:00Ice isn't for driving on<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SiNUOx_jqII/AAAAAAAAAEg/FbFs0awUxqc/s1600-h/ice.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SiNUOx_jqII/AAAAAAAAAEg/FbFs0awUxqc/s320/ice.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342206195906357378" border="0" /></a><br />It's bad enough to skate on ice. I know firsthand how easy it is for one's feet to fly out from beneath one's butt, thus allowing one's butt to make violent contact with the ice, which, by the way, is harder than rock. But to drive an 18-wheeler across a few scant inches of ice just so we can have oil and diamonds? No. Just no. Maybe, like Mama putting the good cookies on top of the refrigerator, God put that stuff up there so we couldn't get to it.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-65606914339829117632009-05-21T19:09:00.001-07:002009-05-25T16:37:05.565-07:00Self assessment<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/ShYJX4aDDiI/AAAAAAAAAEY/F0P8AlaJoKc/s1600-h/ps.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/ShYJX4aDDiI/AAAAAAAAAEY/F0P8AlaJoKc/s320/ps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338464714177580578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I could not be the idiotic, ugly, brainless, stinking, imbecilic, foul, heartless, obtuse, short-sighted, moronic bastard who decides to fire a smart, loyal, hard-working company employee of 27 years. I don't have it in me. I'm not a scum-sucking moron.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-13360717019312181042009-05-17T14:18:00.000-07:002009-05-17T14:22:10.522-07:00UPDATE: I'm not the only one<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/ShB_dkiK1uI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/__EmF8Ni5hc/s1600-h/noshark.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 169px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/ShB_dkiK1uI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/__EmF8Ni5hc/s320/noshark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336905704433964770" border="0" /></a><br />I'm happy to see there are many others who do not want to be eaten by sharks. They have created a fan group for <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/not-being-eaten-by-sharks/71042078142?ref=s">Not Being Eaten By Sharks</a> on Facebook. Nice.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-3387947369625994302009-05-15T23:03:00.000-07:002009-05-15T23:13:41.201-07:00Instant coffee<span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >[Note: I tried to find a photo of instant coffee online, but it's so wretched and unloved that even Getty doesn't keep pictures of it around. I could buy some Nescafé and take a picture of it, but then I would have spent money on something that I'm about to say I wouldn't use for a million dollars, and that would be kinda, y'know, counterproductive. So I apologize for the lack of graphic, but I think you know what I mean even without a picture.]</span><br /><br />I wouldn't drink instant coffee for a million dollars.<br /><br />I order my beans custom roasted from <a href="http://www.coffeeam.com">CoffeeAM.com</a> -- I get five pounds of Kenya AA and one pound of Sumatra Mandheling once every six weeks.<br /><br />I grind up the beans just before I brew the coffee. (My husband's coffee is sometimes ground up five hours before it's brewed, but that can't be helped. The man works swing shift. I do the best I can, y'know?)<br /><br />I'll buy coffee beverages from Starbucks, but I won't buy my beans from them. That's how picky I am.<br /><br />So instant coffee? No. Never. It's barbaric. You can use it in recipes for mocha frosting for cakes, but don't expect it to be suitable for drinking.<br /><br />Some indignities just cannot be borne.<br /><br /><br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-81178206731956124072009-05-13T10:28:00.000-07:002009-05-13T10:28:01.205-07:00V is not for Victory<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgpaiiA3LoI/AAAAAAAAAEI/wkQAR_-k8Fo/s1600-h/icky.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgpaiiA3LoI/AAAAAAAAAEI/wkQAR_-k8Fo/s320/icky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335176257866247810" border="0" /></a><br /><br />At least not in this case.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-30135515718134512992009-05-11T23:05:00.001-07:002009-05-11T23:06:56.771-07:00Ow, I say, ow, again!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUMRwsIwhtUYPpCpQclQAC6T_hL1g5JCeGrVx0ZWz0stcKqDlswWndnSejmyNI5m3SPv9cfdtvG3-hZXWT4K8MvlLY50U5zQg0wp3zDgbpSWABA3zRmhNafQ3i9BB_zC0EnR5zx4jRRA/s1600-h/83520901.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUMRwsIwhtUYPpCpQclQAC6T_hL1g5JCeGrVx0ZWz0stcKqDlswWndnSejmyNI5m3SPv9cfdtvG3-hZXWT4K8MvlLY50U5zQg0wp3zDgbpSWABA3zRmhNafQ3i9BB_zC0EnR5zx4jRRA/s320/83520901.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334814820830306674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Boxing. I don't get it. I don't get it as an activity or a spectacle. It's just barbaric, right?Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-68589331174619394942009-05-11T10:13:00.000-07:002009-05-11T10:13:00.570-07:00Ow!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgcLeh5KuzI/AAAAAAAAAEA/7RSIUfM9zm8/s1600-h/bumpy.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgcLeh5KuzI/AAAAAAAAAEA/7RSIUfM9zm8/s320/bumpy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334244902765771570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />That just looks uncomfortable to me. I'll keep hitting the elliptical, but I don't think there's any danger that I'll ever get carried away.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-91119703366515876612009-05-09T14:04:00.001-07:002009-05-09T14:13:16.571-07:00Weird<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgXv-c9IpyI/AAAAAAAAAD4/91dOQ2BiciM/s1600-h/stretch.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgXv-c9IpyI/AAAAAAAAAD4/91dOQ2BiciM/s320/stretch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333933189893760802" border="0" /></a><br />I have pierced ears. In fact, I have double-pierced ears. But this ear stretching thing is just weird and icky. Ew. And it seems like a great way to rip your ear off if something should get caught in it. Again, ew.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-33114277295123385252009-05-06T22:05:00.001-07:002009-05-06T22:07:43.935-07:00Not if I had a million dollars<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgJsL-pTPtI/AAAAAAAAADw/Q9UxGPK9xs4/s1600-h/matchmake.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/SgJsL-pTPtI/AAAAAAAAADw/Q9UxGPK9xs4/s320/matchmake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332943861810675410" border="0" /></a><br />Aw, hell no! Not if I had the million. Not if he had the million. The idea of going to a matchmaker...on TV, no less! I think not. No.<br /><br />Unless I was really, really desperate. And maybe if I were really, really starved for attention.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-82006320643266438552009-05-06T09:28:00.000-07:002009-05-06T09:33:40.789-07:00Jane Seymour -- with a vengeance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRB-EfERCGkZRmHOj6CQdkcy1YeaFcoTTKDrYVIGxN_HA7e6z9eNRbGbxFEqLRGj9BDE7SYC__WpEu0jxcmCS_5OOKPPY2DcAI2p6SaNzKkLgIoCAfLPnCxGmDGu6MRvTg7gRpbzZixi8/s1600-h/022551903_MV_PD.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRB-EfERCGkZRmHOj6CQdkcy1YeaFcoTTKDrYVIGxN_HA7e6z9eNRbGbxFEqLRGj9BDE7SYC__WpEu0jxcmCS_5OOKPPY2DcAI2p6SaNzKkLgIoCAfLPnCxGmDGu6MRvTg7gRpbzZixi8/s320/022551903_MV_PD.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332748979855082930" border="0" /></a><br />Someone I know accused me of being flippant on this blog. He said that if someone offered me One Million Dollars (US) to wear some Jane Seymour jewelry, I would do it.<br /><br />I have therefore put some time and thought into this proposition.<br /><br />And I reiterate my original stance. I would not wear Jane Seymour jewelry for a million dollars. I would not do it in a box. I would not do it with a fox. I do not like ugly jewelry, Sam I Am. I do not like it; I said it again.Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-358862376836317872009-05-03T07:15:00.000-07:002009-05-03T07:15:01.246-07:00I know I'm wrong. I know.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfz-cWP5plI/AAAAAAAAADo/DOgcNcODoyU/s1600-h/biscuit.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfz-cWP5plI/AAAAAAAAADo/DOgcNcODoyU/s320/biscuit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331415821861889618" border="0" /></a><br />When you grow up in the South and you tell people "I don't like biscuits," they'll invariably come back with "Well, that's because you've never had [insert favorite biscuit producer here]'s biscuits!" I've had people's mothers' biscuits. I've had Hardee's biscuits. I've had fancy cheese biscuits from fancy, cheesy restaurants. I've kept trying biscuits, really I have.<br /><br />I just don't like biscuits.<br /><br />I await your judgment.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-85817716159795977242009-05-02T11:17:00.000-07:002009-05-02T11:17:01.785-07:00Out where the buses don't run<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfvliv5Zc3I/AAAAAAAAADg/kaVltHdN9FU/s1600-h/deep_end.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfvliv5Zc3I/AAAAAAAAADg/kaVltHdN9FU/s320/deep_end.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331106969058636658" border="0" /></a><br />Oh, Shirley, Shirley, Shirley. When I went to find a picture of you for this post I happened to stop by your web site. If I hadn't already known you were a nut job, the Swirl to God earrings and Spirit Steering pendant would have convinced me.<br /><br />This lady crazy.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-36829121195444586452009-05-01T21:35:00.001-07:002009-05-01T21:37:01.150-07:00John Mayer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKeRDEdkVQoo_kTZPGj52FuzK7tU3h0DvRBlXz0yqpyPbSdZfWp5447jeFITNpetk8RkLJ9tMKyvJFC7dAq2v6jcKMMQmP6Pn-ssyTmkdgVRE4ziIH6nHaxvzxQe0AVE2MNLodOQqNlU4/s1600-h/JOHN_MAYER.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKeRDEdkVQoo_kTZPGj52FuzK7tU3h0DvRBlXz0yqpyPbSdZfWp5447jeFITNpetk8RkLJ9tMKyvJFC7dAq2v6jcKMMQmP6Pn-ssyTmkdgVRE4ziIH6nHaxvzxQe0AVE2MNLodOQqNlU4/s320/JOHN_MAYER.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331080791528935218" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Not for a million. Not for many millions. Not in this lifetime. No. Just -- no.Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-12267162729923288072009-05-01T10:25:00.001-07:002009-05-01T10:27:24.696-07:00This is not literature<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWQZGBq0mABndL_qbE9-Yg46AOocroAzeuEExJBMyWUu66p5JSyUT2J0nzOyjwbxdf2Hh7AeZ6IbsW9KmNsyYm4chYWdFz0whIp4jVr5EPbYmDQ9loVJri1NEB4PzaBX8OJk_f_xn8Jc/s1600-h/mmf-tribute.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 169px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSWQZGBq0mABndL_qbE9-Yg46AOocroAzeuEExJBMyWUu66p5JSyUT2J0nzOyjwbxdf2Hh7AeZ6IbsW9KmNsyYm4chYWdFz0whIp4jVr5EPbYmDQ9loVJri1NEB4PzaBX8OJk_f_xn8Jc/s320/mmf-tribute.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330908049281329026" border="0" /></a><br /><br />C'mon. I don't really have to say anything about this, do I?<br /><br />I do?<br /><br />OK, then. Lowest common denominator. There. I said it.Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-61510469431428077522009-04-30T21:32:00.001-07:002009-04-30T21:34:10.647-07:00Too sweet!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfp7ZGAyjuI/AAAAAAAAADY/3X2GEf_gD50/s1600-h/toosweet.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfp7ZGAyjuI/AAAAAAAAADY/3X2GEf_gD50/s320/toosweet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330708779987275490" border="0" /></a><br />While we're talking about beverages, how about those sweet, sweet sodas? I've been drinking Diet Coke as long as I can remember. Can't take the regular stuff because it's just so syrupy sweet.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-71340438734730950352009-04-30T10:31:00.001-07:002009-04-30T10:33:49.266-07:00Love the song; hate the beverage<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCaphm56Hdw6vqrgPDv03fcSXEHrWU7neVWufrj-hgcT8pHYY9SGUkAw5K1e5trkrJeg1TBbFYxUA7tz-cox1GGtcojejAaaM1fvaGkcICGsP87cdfsIE6CdQfaT3RJ_V0K6MJuIft0Zg/s1600-h/sb10069754o-001.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCaphm56Hdw6vqrgPDv03fcSXEHrWU7neVWufrj-hgcT8pHYY9SGUkAw5K1e5trkrJeg1TBbFYxUA7tz-cox1GGtcojejAaaM1fvaGkcICGsP87cdfsIE6CdQfaT3RJ_V0K6MJuIft0Zg/s320/sb10069754o-001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330538597842157986" border="0" /></a><br />If you have to ingest massive amounts of salt and citric acid to counterbalance the flavor of the liquor, maybe you should try a liquor that already tastes good.<br /><br />Tequila. I'm not going to give it another chance. It's just nasty.Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-15436203175993442202009-04-29T22:41:00.000-07:002009-04-29T22:43:19.226-07:00What IS that?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfk6SXenVJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ZxnpCa0Yl8k/s1600-h/cateyes.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sfk6SXenVJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/ZxnpCa0Yl8k/s320/cateyes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330355721184171154" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A cat? Really? Y'think? Nah.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-85419030432105830222009-04-28T22:07:00.000-07:002009-04-28T22:08:06.495-07:00No, no, and no<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sffgl3qjBaI/AAAAAAAAADI/w380x7YznrU/s1600-h/three_stooges.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 178px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_d4s8WrEiiTE/Sffgl3qjBaI/AAAAAAAAADI/w380x7YznrU/s320/three_stooges.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329975625218459042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Not for many <span style="font-style: italic;">multi</span>-millions.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01827149740685773273noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5910276228490350239.post-86469333014166420202009-04-28T08:13:00.001-07:002009-04-28T08:18:13.591-07:00Panic<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RrrJzcn3xQYGUsmgoqEDHhPxnzRwvrXVgHrk8lw8NWBjZicxlPn2zlp9UvM1MvnjyWMrutf7LQqcEWbrh-RkB5muQA7NEhh-xUh6TV2JVSLHYuLR8C9H7tQRD9W8iyDlgTGOciYYTB0/s1600-h/Ed+2005+36.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7RrrJzcn3xQYGUsmgoqEDHhPxnzRwvrXVgHrk8lw8NWBjZicxlPn2zlp9UvM1MvnjyWMrutf7LQqcEWbrh-RkB5muQA7NEhh-xUh6TV2JVSLHYuLR8C9H7tQRD9W8iyDlgTGOciYYTB0/s320/Ed+2005+36.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329761454787956914" border="0" /></a><br />I read <span style="font-style: italic;">The Stand</span>. I know what the flu can do. I'm just not prepared to freak out and get all face masky over it.Bay in TNhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02894254131140340817noreply@blogger.com3