Author: The Jody

We bought the Phantomnator a bone. Cause he’s a dog and we’ve been watching cartoons our whole life. Dogs like bones. They bury them, and they dig them up. They eat them like they are potato chips. Cartoons were so great at explaining how the world works!

So we bought him this bone at Target today, to make up for the fact that we left him in the crate for a large part of yesterday. We were out and about for a chunk of the middle of the day and he’s still too destructive to leave alone in the house without crating.

Anyhoo, the bone is gross and stinky. Very stinky. It smells sort of like feet. Mr. Dump said “Dead feet” and I think he’s right. So I have to figure out how to get the bone away from the dog and into the trash. I fear it smells so bad that little Mr. Nose is going to know exactly what I’m up to.

Ick ick ick. If we get him another one of those, he’s going to have to eat it outside.

HellOOOOOO! March? Jody here. Have you been playing with the thermostat? CUT IT OUT.

In other news, I got stuck behind two different school busses on the way to work today. This NEVER happens to me, even though I have to drive through 3 (!) elementary school zones every morning. That’s right, three chances to drive 20mph per day. And don’t you dare think about going faster than that in Townsend, baby, cause the police station is in the middle of the 20mph zone and if you don’t think they are out there, you’re insane.

Okay, so I got stuck behind busses, which I could deal with. What floored me is that both of them ended up turning off the road, and neither used turn signals. Shouldn’t the drivers of school busses be extra careful? The Lunenburg school bus took a left-hand turn without signaling, and the Townsend school bus took a right. No blinkers. If they had both been from the same school district I would have picked up the phone right then and there, but something about it being one of each made me not as phone-happy. Plus I didn’t note the bus numbers.

Anyway, bus drivers of the world – you are carrying our children in your big yellow death machines. Do me a favor and follow ALL the laws, not just the ones you find convenient.

My first crush, Jack Wild, died of oral cancer. He lived a long hard life, and looked every inch of it in recent years, but to me, he’ll always be Jimmy, trying to get off Living Island. [insert obligatory “and now he has” comment here].

My page doesn’t seem to be loading correctly, so this post is just a push to republish. Feel free to use this time to grab yourself a Poptart.

I love your stuff, really I do. And I totally understand where the name comes from. But I just think you should know that “women of size” (*cough*) are a little skittish about wearing something called a “barn coat.” The “big as a” implications are a little too much for us to bear.

Thank you for your attention in this matter.