Frogs, Fags & Pansies.
From the title of this, you're probably thinking, "This could possibly be one of the most racially and culturally insensitive posts I have ever seen -- I must read on!!!" And while I hate to disappoint, it was all just a dirty ploy to get you here. That, or it's just a damn title.
Not sure if I ever wrote about the little green FROG I had living in the aloe plant/Christmas cactus on my back porch this past fall (You thought I was going to bad-mouth the French, didn't you? Well, not in this post at least -- this is about something much more important than the French -- my little amphibian pal)... Well, anyway, whether I mentioned him or not -- and I think I did -- there is a little picture of him to the left. Obviously, when the cold weather rolled around, I put the plants (alive, half-dead and dead) in my garage so they would not freeze, including the above-referenced frog house plant. The other night it was a bit warmer than normal [Mississippi weather, I should have learned by now, is anything but normal or predictable] and I was in my garage piddling around for one reason or another when I looked down and, lo and behold, but who do I see? My little frog sitting on one of the Christmas cactus leaves, just hanging out. I was so excited to see that he's still around -- so much so that I called Jon away from his Xbox to see the little guy! Is that sad or admirable? I'm not sure... Of course, it also means that there are enough bugs in my garage to sustain a frog through winter, but we won't get into that....
As for the "fags" part of my post... well, that just means I'm smoking intermittently again (& apparently using British terminology to make it seem more sophisticated). Marlboro Ultra Lights, to be exact. Because, well, they kill you slower, right? Ha, ha. It's really more of a pasttime than an addiction, which makes it even more pathetic (not to mention the fact that I still turn up my "lucky cigarette" every time I open a new pack -- soooo 1990's). And don't blame Jon just b/c he failed to quit smoking. I started back of my own accord (mind you, we're talking 1-2 on a normal day -- I'm no John Wayne). While I'm on my soapbox, from which I rarely step down, I think it's a crock of shit that Philip Morris cannot even really advertise their own products on their website (or anywhere, for that matter) but rather have to focus on health issues. As a casual smoker, I choose to do it. They didn't hold a freaking gun to my head, & I would like to think that no one was ever stupid enough to think that inhaling smoke [of any kind] could be healthy in any way -- and if they did, well, then they aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer & it is a case of Darwinism at its finest. Don't give them money for being dumbasses & fine the tobacco companies for being smart!!! I mean, come on, they called them "coffin nails" in 1940's movies -- what the hell did people think that meant? In my ever-esteemed opinion, Mike Moore, the Mississippi Attorney General who first went after "big tobacco", & Dickie Scruggs (brother-in-law of Trent Lott, btw) did nothing but open a can of worms for more people to jump onto the vicitim train & take advantage of our lawsuit-happy system, which is especially rampant in Mississippi. That, and make themselves a shitpile of money. (Anyone ever seen "The Insider"? There's a lot more truth to it than most people realize... And don't worry, the "Fahrenheit 9/11" Michael Moore is not to be denied asshole status either, it's just not applicable in this case, no pun intended... apparently the name just lends itself to being a "shit-stirrer") Let's just say that if you read any John Grisham books, there are definitely some characters with personalities & cases that parallel those of the political system here, and they aren't all positive portrayals.
On to something more flowery and colorful and happy -- more of my ever-recurring pansy theme/personal art exhibition. I just had to post more pictures of my pretty little pansies that Jon planted for me. I think there really is something to this chicken shit that he put in with the potting soil... Well, that, and he's just good... ;)
Not sure if I ever wrote about the little green FROG I had living in the aloe plant/Christmas cactus on my back porch this past fall (You thought I was going to bad-mouth the French, didn't you? Well, not in this post at least -- this is about something much more important than the French -- my little amphibian pal)... Well, anyway, whether I mentioned him or not -- and I think I did -- there is a little picture of him to the left. Obviously, when the cold weather rolled around, I put the plants (alive, half-dead and dead) in my garage so they would not freeze, including the above-referenced frog house plant. The other night it was a bit warmer than normal [Mississippi weather, I should have learned by now, is anything but normal or predictable] and I was in my garage piddling around for one reason or another when I looked down and, lo and behold, but who do I see? My little frog sitting on one of the Christmas cactus leaves, just hanging out. I was so excited to see that he's still around -- so much so that I called Jon away from his Xbox to see the little guy! Is that sad or admirable? I'm not sure... Of course, it also means that there are enough bugs in my garage to sustain a frog through winter, but we won't get into that....
As for the "fags" part of my post... well, that just means I'm smoking intermittently again (& apparently using British terminology to make it seem more sophisticated). Marlboro Ultra Lights, to be exact. Because, well, they kill you slower, right? Ha, ha. It's really more of a pasttime than an addiction, which makes it even more pathetic (not to mention the fact that I still turn up my "lucky cigarette" every time I open a new pack -- soooo 1990's). And don't blame Jon just b/c he failed to quit smoking. I started back of my own accord (mind you, we're talking 1-2 on a normal day -- I'm no John Wayne). While I'm on my soapbox, from which I rarely step down, I think it's a crock of shit that Philip Morris cannot even really advertise their own products on their website (or anywhere, for that matter) but rather have to focus on health issues. As a casual smoker, I choose to do it. They didn't hold a freaking gun to my head, & I would like to think that no one was ever stupid enough to think that inhaling smoke [of any kind] could be healthy in any way -- and if they did, well, then they aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer & it is a case of Darwinism at its finest. Don't give them money for being dumbasses & fine the tobacco companies for being smart!!! I mean, come on, they called them "coffin nails" in 1940's movies -- what the hell did people think that meant? In my ever-esteemed opinion, Mike Moore, the Mississippi Attorney General who first went after "big tobacco", & Dickie Scruggs (brother-in-law of Trent Lott, btw) did nothing but open a can of worms for more people to jump onto the vicitim train & take advantage of our lawsuit-happy system, which is especially rampant in Mississippi. That, and make themselves a shitpile of money. (Anyone ever seen "The Insider"? There's a lot more truth to it than most people realize... And don't worry, the "Fahrenheit 9/11" Michael Moore is not to be denied asshole status either, it's just not applicable in this case, no pun intended... apparently the name just lends itself to being a "shit-stirrer") Let's just say that if you read any John Grisham books, there are definitely some characters with personalities & cases that parallel those of the political system here, and they aren't all positive portrayals.
On to something more flowery and colorful and happy -- more of my ever-recurring pansy theme/personal art exhibition. I just had to post more pictures of my pretty little pansies that Jon planted for me. I think there really is something to this chicken shit that he put in with the potting soil... Well, that, and he's just good... ;)
And see? By the title of this post, you all probably thought I was going to say something totally offensive. Me? Never... Can't you see my halo? It's propped up on my horns...
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