For those of you who don't follow along for the sub-story that usually takes place in the comments, I'll fill you in while I sit here and wipe up the iced tea I just spit all over my screen and keyboard.
Recklace (Your blog link is bad, darlin', or I'd link you right here) and I have been carrying on a conversation, of sorts, in the comments today.
I asked where the weapons were and she said something about not having weapons in her. Which in all actuality is probably a good thing. It might cause chafing.
You'll just have to read the comments for the whole thing, but what made me spit iced tea everywhere was when I entered her last comment into the handy dandy Babelfish translator.
I knew that the first part of the last sentence was that she had taken three years of Spanish from a Peruvian instructor. Or something fairly close to that. But Babelfish instead informed me that she had three Spanish anuses.
Well, I'll be. I feel like I know you so well now, Recklace.
I was born a semi-diva. I married a redneck. Through the magic of osmosis or just because of a serious lack of sophistication over the years I have found a balance of the two that make me who I am today. And then I write about it all, much to the chagrin of my mother.
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We....the people
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