Nothin' to see here, people, move along. Ok, if you insist on staying, atleast take your shoes off and make yourself comfortable. Once I get started...well, you could be here for a while. (Just ignore the typos. I do.) Yes, snacks are allowed as long as you share and clean up after yourself. Oh yeah, hey...if you happen to see my scissors around here, could you let me know. I could have sworn I had them right here a minute ago.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
This little clip art reminds me of my Mother....only she would be totally freaking out, probably scared to tears and would really dislike you after you held that frog up to her. It's called a phobia folks. I'm glad those Bud commercials are off the air now. They really used to gross her out. I remember as a child I use to play with little sand toads but I knew, just KNEW, I could never tell her about it because she would go ape. Its that bad. It is no laughing matter. Dad had been fishing and we were having lunch....he reached in his shirt pocket for a ciggie and instead, he said, "What's this?" and he pulled out a little frog he had caught to use as bait. She froze in fear, started crying, Dad ran out of the house with the frog. That is when she announced she was never going to check his packets before doing laundry again. Poor Mom.
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