Ahh, So Finally I Have Justification!

Yep, I know, I’m bad about keeping up with this. I’ve just been so busy lately. New job, keeps me insanely busy during the day, which I love, but I don’t have any desire to get on a computer after being on one all day long.

Anyways, I really had no intention of updating, if I’m honest, and y’all know I try to keep it real.

But, something happened to me that I just had to share.

My biggest fear (EEVVVEEERRRR!!!) happened to me today on my lunch break.

I went out to my truck, and when I climbed up, I was sitting on my skirt, so I reached down to pull it out from under me. That’s when it happened…yep, no long, draw out prelude to this story folks!

Bam! The worst pain I’ve felt in a very, very, very, long time shot up my pinky finger. I didn’t know what it was, I immediately pulled my hand up and looked at my finger. I saw, what appeared to be, a thorn. That’s one mean freaking thorn! Seriously.

So I brushed the thorn off my finger and closed the truck door, and just as I moved my legs, I saw it.

Beady little eyes, furry little head, veiny little wings.



Yup, the worst possible thing that could ever happen to me.

For the first time in my life, I had been stung by a bee.

Now, for those of you that don’t remember, I have this irrational fear of bees. Like seriously irrational, I will straight up jump out of a moving vehicle if one of those little you-know-whats flies in. Or, I’ll stop my car in the middle of the road and jump out before taking it out of drive. (Y’all remember this story right? …. or this one?)

I’ve had this fear for YEARS. And for years I’ve had to explain why I go into absolute panic mode when I see anything with a stinger on its hiney, and the conversation always goes something like this:

Me: I’m TERRIFIED of bees! (for clarification, my definition of “bee” includes anything that has a stinger; wasps, bees, yellow jackets, hornets…)

Innocent Bystander: Oh! You must be allergic!

Me: I don’t know if I am or not.

Innocent Bystander: How do you not know if you’re allergic?

Me: I’ve never been stung!

Innocent Bystander: Then WHY are you so scared of them?

Me: Uhhh….ummmm…..well…..I dunno!


and then Innocent Bystander feels the need to say:


Well, they really don’t hurt that much! There’s no reason to be scared of them, as long as you’re not allergic, it’s just a little sting. And they won’t bother you, if you don’t bother them!

BS! BS! BS! BS!!!!

They don’t really hurt my foot! I have a very high pain tolerance, and that crap HURTS!!!! It hurts, it just hurts! Don’t tell me it doesn’t!!!

And I can’t stand when people say “they won’t bother you, if you don’t bother them” First of all, let’s define bothering. Some people say kids are cute; they BOTHER me! Some people say Ben Stiller is a great actor; he BOTHERS me. Some people say bees won’t bug you; their mere existence BOTHERS ME!

Obviously, my mere existence BOTHERED this bee so much that it decided to sacrifice it’s life to make a point.

We all have different opinions on what bothers us….even bees.

So, the whole point of my non-sensical rambling is this; if anyone thought my fear of bees was irrational before, you better watch out. Because let me tell you, the next time I see one of those little winged fiends….it’s game on!

If one decides to land on the seat next to me in an airplane…I WILL JUMP

If one lands on me while I’m rafting down the Amazon….I WILL SINK THE SHIP

If one goes skiing with me down Mt Everest…I WILL CAUSE AN AVALANCHE

I’m no longer just scared of bees…I’m TERRIFIED, PHOBIC, PETRIFIED, and every other word in the English language that’s a synonym to “afraid”

But at least now it’s justified.

Note: I understand that bees are like, one of the most important things on the planet. I get that. Please don’t lecture me on this. I would never condone the mass killing of bees, for any reason, in fact, I would never purposely kill them, as long as they stay far enough away. So all you tree huggers, get your panties out of a wad and just smile for a change!



Four years ago, Cheyenne and my mom’s horse, Tip, disappeared.  We had no idea where they went, they just vanished.  A few days later, mom and I were eating breakfast and reading newspapers to see if anyone had found two horses.  Mom skimmed the ads and finally came across one that said:

“Found: Three horses, contact Johnson County Sheriffs Department.”

Since we had only lost two horses, mom almost dismissed it, but something in me said we should at least try; horses are social creatures after all, they may have picked up a straggler along the way.

I watched with anticipation as mom talked to the lady on the other end of the line.

“Yes, we lost a white appaloosa gelding, and a buckskin mare…”  Her eyes grew big.

“You did!?  That’s great!…..What?  Are you serious?”

I was confused by Mom’s expression, it was a mixture of happiness and surprise.  She hung up the phone.

“Well, the lady said ‘I think these are your horses, and we have a surprise for you, you have a brand new baby!'”

A brand new baby….

Happy Birthday Stetson!

Big boy’s growing up so fast…can’t wait until I can really work him!

Five years ago, I knew nothing about owning a horse.  I was excited when we went to the sale that day in May, and even more excited when my step dad, who had been around horses his entire life, and with whom I had trusted my money with to buy the right horse for me, started bidding.  I was a little nervous that he started bidding on the very horse out of the gate, there were so many, how could he know that was the right one?  But more than anything, I was excited when we WON the bid, and I became the owner of a beautiful buckskin (my absolute favorite color) mare.

5 years ago, I knew nothing about owning a horse….look at me now!

I will forever love this girl. I love Stetson…but I don’t think any horse out there can replace the attachment I have with her.

4 years ago….I knew NOTHING about raising a baby, but I was never given the chance to think about it.  Little did I know, that day that I bought Cheyenne that Stetson was already growing inside her.

So here we are…four years later and it makes my heart smile to say:



One of his very first baby pictures! Taking on the day we found them

After thinking about Stetson’s birthday, I got to thinking about 2010, the year he was born.  I remember, at the time, thinking that 2010 was one of the worst years of my life.  I don’t know why I ever thought that.

Just last weekend, the boy and I celebrated our 4 year anniversary together.  4 years….he came into my life in 2010.


In September, the infamous Winston will be 4 years old.  4 years….he came into my life in 2010.

He was so cute and sweet...when he was sleeping
He was so cute and sweet…when he was sleeping

And we’ve already addressed that Stetson just turned 4….he came into my life in 2010.

So, it seems 2010 was a pretty good year for me.  I gained three pretty awesome boys, and I wouldn’t take a million bucks for a single one of them….except…maybe…the boy.

Aliens Are Rude….Why They Gotta Ignore Us?

I don’t think it comes as a surprise to anyone that some people believe that we are not alone in this life; that “aliens” exist.  My opinion on aliens is much like my opinion on ghosts, I don’t believe in them, but I don’t disbelieve in them.  When you think about it, it’s pretty selfish of us to think that we are the only intelligent life forms in the entire universe isn’t it?  I mean, I’ve watched those shows on the Discovery Channel….the universe is a BIG place.

Some people spend their entire lifetime looking for aliens.  They scour the country, chasing down every UFO sighting reported.   They sit on top of a hill with binoculars, trying everything they can to get a glimpse of what is really going on in “Area 51”.  They’ve created a huge cult following ;it’s almost become a way of life.  Fox Mulder would be proud.

But I wonder, has anyone ever stopped to think why we haven’t really made any verified contact with alien life forms yet?  It COULD be because they don’t exist but honestly, I think there’s a better explanation.

I’ll come back to my explanation in a minute, first, let’s derail for a bit.

Pretend you are back in high school.  Recently, you’ve been getting random gifts from a “secret admirer” however; you know exactly who it is.  You can’t help but feel his/her beady eyes, constantly boring holes into the back of your head.  Every time you look up, you have to divert your eyes because, no matter where you look, their eyes meet yours, the only safe place to look is the floor, and that’s getting old.

The gifts continue to come, it starts out simple, a bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear, a friendly card.   Then, as you continue to ignore this person, the gifts start to get stranger.  Weird poems about how your hair smells like chocolate and your breath is the very reason they exist.   Then you start getting random “mix tapes” (hey, I’m old, mix tapes were still a thing in high school…kinda) and every time you open your locker you find some note has been stuffed in it, telling you how the sound of your voice reminds them of butterflies.

The only place you can get away from them is at home, and somehow or another, they’ve managed to get your home phone number (I’m old remember…we weren’t like all the young’uns these days, we didn’t all have cell phones).  Then they start showing up at your house; they are there in the morning to “make sure you get to school safely”, and they are waiting for you when you get home.  You just can’t get away from them.

Would you talk to that person?  Would you acknowledge they exist?  Aside from possibly punching them in the face when you finally got enough?  What is wrong with people like that?  Can’t they get the point?

(sadly, all of the above comes from personal experience)

Now, let’s go back to our alien friends…..

We stare up at the sky, sometimes with telescopes, scouring the vast void with wondering eyes, just hoping to find an alien.  We stare….and stare…..and stare

We broadcast radio messages far into the netherworld, crazy, weird messages.  Messages that become scrambled and garbled after years…..mix tapes.

We send shuttles into outer space.  We land rovers on other planets.  We place our flags on extraterrestrial soil, claiming it as ours, though we really have no right to do so.  We send space stations out to forever orbit the earth.  We send satellites out on long missions, searching…waiting.  Waiting for our aliens….waiting.

So, the point of my post is….to aliens, we are stalkers.  Would YOU talk to us if you were an alien?


Important Stuff!

Ber and I were talking this morning, she always wants to know where my blog is, she’s impatient. Anyways, she was asking my opinion on different topics and then we both decided that this might be a fun blog ideas.

Anyways, she gave me these topics to discuss, and I sat down this morning with my old friend, Amelia, and we decided to go head-to-head. I think you all will enjoy to see our point of view on some serious issues!



Amelia – Work sucks. There’s really not much more to say about it than that. I have to say though, I get really sick of hearing people complain about their jobs. You people work 5 days a week for 8 hours a day, then you go home to your families or whatever. Me? My job is being stuck inside this girls head, all day, every day, no break whatsoever. Try that one for size. And let me tell ya, it ain’t no pic nic inside this girl’s head. It’s so big and empty, I get lost just trying to find the bathroom!

Sam – I’m gonna take the high road, not because I feel like being a good person, but because I don’t want anything incriminating to be in black and white. I will say though, on my good days at work (like today has been so far) I love my job. I love doing what I love for a living. I love getting paid to write. It’s the best gig ever.



Amelia – Put everyone under the age of 30 in a bus and ship it off to the middle of the ocean. While you’re at it, take all the people with IQ’s lower than mine too. This world has bred itself into stupidity, the only logical solution is to snuff out all the dummies and start over again.

Sam – Ugh, are we really going here? Have I not made myself clear up to this point? Well, while I’m not going to be as harsh as Amelia when it comes to kids, they are NOT my favorite little people in the world. In fact, despite the fact that everyone, my entire life, has told me that as I get older my “biological clock” will start ticking, and I will actually want kids, I think I want kids less now than I did ten years ago. I just see how much trouble my friends with kids go through on a daily basis, and I can’t figure out why anyone would consciously do that to themselves!

I DO however, have this awesome blog idea about how I want to be pregnant…but that’s a story for another time.




Amelia – Have you ever tried to find a man when you are trapped inside someone else’s body? No? Didn’t think so!

Sam – Hmmm, well…umm…hmmm. Okay, without setting off too many alarm bells, and completely freaking “the boy” out, I’m just gonna come out and say it. I will be 32 years old in 5 months, I do, at some point in my life, want to be married before I leave this world. When I was little, it was my goal to do so by the time I was 30…I obviously screwed that up. I would be lying to myself, and everyone reading this if I told you I’m not kinda sorta starting to get that “itch”. However; I think there is more magic in the “idea” of getting married than the actual act itself. I want to be engaged for a long time, I want to tell people that I’m engaged and hear them say “congratulations”, because it doesn’t matter if you’ve been engaged for 30 years, people will still tell you congratulations. I like the magic that comes with knowing you are so committed to a person, that you are willing to devote the rest of your life to them. I hope that I’m one of the lucky few that gets married once, and never divorced; those people are a dying breed. Anyways, again, this isn’t my way of telling the boy that I want a ring or anything, my girl asked me to write about this, and I do what I’m told!


Free time

Amelia – Well, other that walking around in the expansive, dark void of this girl’s head, I occasionally like to play kickball. Not because I’m athletic, but because I like to kick the ball as hard as I possibly can, bouncing it off the inside of her brain.
Where else do you think headaches come from?

Sam – What the heck is free time? I leave my house every morning at 630 and don’t get home until well after dark. But I suppose part of that is considered my free time, because I spend the last part of my day doing something I love. Taking care of my horses. They are demanding, but I love them. I wouldn’t take anything in the world for them. I actually had someone offer me about 3 times what I thought Cheyenne was worth a couple weeks ago. While that made me feel good, the thought of letting her go off to live with anyone besides me is just too much to even think about, especially now that I’ve finally got them in a barn that I’m pleased with. I can see the way they interact with the other horses, and even just the way they walk around, they are happy. They have TONS of room to run, and play, and graze, and other horsey friends, they’re happy, and I wouldn’t take that away from them for anything.

Other than that, I like to spend my free time with my other kiddos, my smaller 4 leggers, Piper, Mama Sue, and even good old Winston!



Why You Shouldn’t Talk to Ghosties

A few weeks ago, just for the sake of having something fun to do, I downloaded an app on my phone. The app was called “Ghost Radar”, and supposedly it was supposed to send signals to those beyond the grave and let them know that you are trying to communicate with them. Supposedly ghosts are sensitive to these certain signals and some will try to communicate with you.
Obviously, I was skeptical, I’m one of those people who says “I don’t believe in ghost, but I don’t NOT believe in them.” Basically, when it comes to ghosts, I’m going to be skeptical about their existence until I actually see one.

At the same time, it’s a novel idea to believe they are real right? I mean, religion is based on the fact that after your body dies, your spirit moves on, so it’s only fitting that we would believe it is possible that our spirits could leave our bodies and hang around for awhile right? I’m sure that’s what will happen to me, because Lord knows, when I die, they will probably have to think long and hard before opening the gates of Heaven for me!

Anyways, just for the fun of it, I started recording the words that the ghosties would say. For the most part, they were pretty random however, I have to admit, one of the words really made me question my thoughts about life.

I was laying on my bed, watching tv when I saw a “Blip”come up on the radar screen. The blips are supposed to represent anomalies in the atmosphere that can be conceived as ghosts. I didn’t really think too much about it, until I noticed what the recent blip said.

Now, I probably don’t need to remind any of you, but I happen to have a wonderful, loving, extremely sweet, Never caused me any trouble, bulldog by the name of Winston. And Winston just so happened to be laying at my feet that night. Hmmmm…really makes you think huh?

Anyways, it obviously didn’t scare me too much because I still remain skeptical. Skeptical, first of all, that this “Ghost Radar” is real, because honestly…how could it be? And still skeptical about whether or not ghosts exist.

Well…I WAS skeptical…until last night.

On my daily commute home, as I turned off the main highway onto the tiny country backroads that I take just so I don’t have to deal with other people, something strange happened.

I love the backroads because there are almost never any other vehicles to deal with, and on the occasion that I cross someone else, they are usually out of the way before too long. So last night, as I approached a stop sign, I looked both ways like a good little driver….no cars for miles. I made a right turn and immediately had to cross over railroad tracks.

Since it was a nice day yesterday, I had my windows down, and as soon as I crossed the tracks I heard this low grumbling, like the engine of a big truck.  The sound startled me and I found myself wondering what the heck was wrong with my truck, why was it making this noise? For a moment, I even thought maybe something was wrong with one of my tires so I decided to pull over as soon as I crossed the tracks.
Just as I began to move my truck over, I looked in the rearview mirror. Right on my behind was a big box truck.
Now, mind you, this whole scene has literally lasted, maybe three seconds at the most, and seeing as when I looked before I turned, and there were no cars around for miles, I couldn’t figure out where this truck had come from, but I did recognize the sound it was making as the one that had worried me so I pushed away the idea of pulling over and continued on.
The truck stayed on my tail for about 3 miles. I tried looking in the mirror to see the person but I couldn’t make out their face. I carried on for awhile, regularly watching him in my rear view mirror, because I’m not crazy about people tailgating me. I finally made the decision to pull over and let him go around me.

As I saw an opportunity to pull over up ahead, I looked in my rear view to see him still there, looked back on the road for literally half a second, looked back in the rear view, and the truck was GONE.


I reckon if I had never tried to communicate with ghosties, this wouldn’t have bugged me so, and had he not seemingly appeared out of nowhere, I might have shrugged the situation off as well. But I even went so far as to turn my vehicle around and drive back the way I came, looking down each side street and driveway to see if he had quickly turned off somewhere.

I never found him.

So heed my warning. Do NOT attempt to contact ghosties…they just may try to contact you!
Unless….of course….it was an alien truck driver….as explained to me by “the boy.”




By that title you thought I was going to write about how cold it is huh?  Well…you’re wrong!  While I have been moved to a new office where the heat/air doesn’t work, and I felt like a popsicle sitting in the back of the fridge acquiring freezer burn this morning, that’s not what I’m writing about today at all.

I’ve been promising someone I would do this for awhile, she’s called me out about it several times, and trust me, she’s not the type of person that will forget. She’s quite insistent if I’m honest.

So I’ve made it a habit of telling you all about my life, my job, my horses, my dogs, my mom, and even “the boy”, but I don’t really talk about my friends all that often.  I know, it’s hard to believe, but I actually do have friends.  Good friends.  And while I would love to tell you about each and every one of them, there’s one in particular I’m going to talk about today.

Several years ago, I can’t even remember how long it’s been now, I met this crazy, opinionated, but fun girl named Amber.  She prefers to be called “Ber” so that’s where “brrrr” comes from.


Anyways, Ber and I are pretty much nothing alike which, seeing as I tend to attract opposites (just go back and read any of the stories about the boy) it’s really no mystery as to why we’ve become friends.  Ber is outspoken, tells you like it is, and doesn’t take no for an answer.  I am quiet, keep to myself, and will do anything to keep from getting a “no”.  Ber has 5 bazillion siblings, lives life like there’s no tomorrow(I mean that positively) and will stand her ground no matter what.  I have no siblings, prefer to live life a little cautiously, and avoid confrontation at all costs.  Ber has drama (not meaning that in a bad way) I will tuck my tail and run at the first signs of anything dramatic.

But for some reason, she and I get along pretty darn well.  She’s got some great qualities, things like:

  • I can be a total witch to her, and she knows I mean nothing by it (apparently other people find my dry sense of humor offensive at times)
  • She is the only person that I can really tell it like it is, give her some tough love, and she appreciates it….most people just say I’m being mean and not understanding their feelings
  • I don’t have to be empathetic with her, if I think she’s doing something moronic, I can tell her and she will say “oh, yeah, I guess you’re right.”
  • She gives good advice and isn’t afraid to put me in my place
  • She’s always got SOMETHING going on, whether it’s crazy stalkers or weird family drama, she can always tell a story that keeps me entertained.
  • She understands that I’m thick skinned and don’t like to show emotions, and she doesn’t get upset if I give her the cold shoulder about things just because I don’t want to deal with them
  • On top of the last point, I’m not good at emotional support, I just don’t know what to do or say.  And she gets that and doesn’t hold it against me
  • I can call her a B*tch and she considers it a compliment
  • She can call me a B*tch, Hooker, or Skank, and I consider it a compliment



But the main reason I wanted to do this blog today is to give her props, and to say thanks.  Something has been weighing heavily on me the last couple days and she has been there for me daily to discuss, give advice, and shove my mind in a different direction so I don’t think about it.  We chat a lot online through out the day, it keeps both of us relatively sane when boredom looms over us.  And the last couple of days, with the things that are seemingly pulling me under, she’s managed to keep me afloat.  Whether it’s by just completely changing the subject and giving me funny stories to read, or telling me about the crazy drama in her life, or actually just giving good advice, she’s been there for me this week, and I appreciate it.

So there you have it….not the usual dry, sarcastic, outlook on something completely ridiculous, but just a good, heartfelt, thanks…..don’t get used to it…like I said…I don’t do emotions very well!

A Little Bitter, Are We?

It’s no secret that social media is full of drama.  A lot of people use it specifically for that reason.  I think that’s why I avoided it for a long time, I think I always knew what to expect.

I’m the type of person who TRIES to be positive about most things.  I understand, we all have bad days, I get it, I really do.  Today has honestly been one of those days for me.  But I’m sorry, if every day is a bad day, you need to rethink your life.  I hate to tell you this but, it’s not the people in your life making you miserable…it’s you.

Anyways, with the high abundance of negative posts I see constantly on social media, I’ve decided that I’m proposing a new website.

The site will be called “Bitter”.  It’s a place for all of the miserable people in the world to congregate and try to out do each other.  Instead of “tweeting” they can send out “beatings”.  Instead of “blogging” there will be “flogging”.  And everyone’s profile picture will be one of those mean spirited e-cards that you constantly see posted…you know what I’m talking about.


There will be a special portion of the page called “Troll Polls”.  This will be a spot where everyone can congregate to weigh in on important issues that the rest of the world could care less about.  Things like:

-Which is the best screen name?  Yousuck4062 or Ihateyourguts1023_9901?

-What’s your favorite food?  Anger or Misery?

-Who’s life is worse? Mine or Yours?  (the obvious answer to this one is “mine”)

-OMG, my friends haven’t responded to any of my suicidal Facebook posts, what do I do?

-Which one do you hate the most?  Work, Home, School, Car, Family, Spouse, Money(lack thereof), Clothes, Sports, TV, Shoes, Shopping, Food, Pets, People, The World, Politicians, Computers, Technology, Music, Tables, Refrigerators, Monkeys, or All of the the Above and then some?

And finally, instead of built in “apps” they will play “craps” such as:

-Sadville – Where they will be responsible for trying to kill out a thriving farm environment by neglecting it.  This is harder than you may think, neglect is NOT something these people are adapt to.

-Misery Birds – The point is to fling a sad little bird looking creature into a brick wall and see how many attempts it takes before he becomes suicidal.

-Words with Fiends – Kinda like scrabble, but only words like “sadness”, “sorrow”, and “contempt” are allowed. Bonus points are awarded if you can spell out “I hate life”

Based on the amount of people I’ve had to delete or hide from my Facebook in the past few years, I can’t see this site being anything BUT a hit!

Thieving Mongrels!

Apparently, it’s a rule in society to shower on a regular basis.  Considering my mild, let’s go unnoticed, don’t draw attention to yourself, stay away from drama, personality, I choose to try my best to conform to society and shower, at least once a month or so (that was a joke for those of you who haven’t figured me out yet)  However, lately, I’ve been having trouble with showers.  Well, not the actual shower itself, my issue occurs after the shower.

My bathroom is rather small, so when I shower, I place the clothes I plan to change into, whether it be pajamas, or just a fresh shirt and jeans, on the floor next to the bathroom door.  There’s really no place to hang them, and I’ve found that placing them on the toilet, next to the shower only yields in them getting sprayed by the water. (I’m a messy shower-er..what can I say?)  The bathroom floor is clean, it’s no big deal really and its not like they are clean clothes…I have SOME decency ya know.

The last few showers I’ve taken though, when I get out to put on the new clothes, it always seems that half of them have mysteriously disappeared.  I usually go to grab the clothes and all that exists is a pair of jeans, no shirt, no underwear, just jeans.  I was perplexed by this, where the heck are my clothes going?  Do I smell THAT bad?

So, last night, as I was getting ready for my shower, I decided to do a little experiment.  I turned the shower on, took my clothes off, and placed them in the floor, just like I do every night.  Only this time, I didn’t get in the shower right away.  It didn’t take long to figure out what was happening to my clothes.

First off, let me introduce you all to my moms dog, Rowdy.


Sweet innocent little face huh?  Don’t let it fool you, this dog is the DEVIL!  Which is why I wasn’t shocked when, sitting on the toilet, I witnessed a tiny little brown paw reaching under the bathroom door.  The paw continued to stretch, and shortly behind it, peeking out from under the crack in the door I saw a long brown snout with a wiggling, sniffing, nose.

He persisted until finally, he had managed to grab my clothes, squeeze them under the door, and scatter them all over the house.


What the heck does a wiener dog need with clothes anyways?

Johnny Appleseed Had Bad Grammar

I’m deviating from my normal schedule today, because honestly…what can you do with Johnny Appleseed Day?  I guess I could have drawn a big blue ox….I’m a MASTER artist after all.  Anyways, moving on.

I just read this story(Unfortunately from the moment that I started this blog, until now, the article has been taken down).  It’s a great, sweet story, but that’s not really what I’m blogging about today.  The problem is, I had a hard time reading this one, not because it was sad, because it kinda was, but because the grammar was horrendous! 

Now, I try to not be a grammar nazi, I really do, and Lord knows my Facebook posts need some help sometime.  But this story came from a professional publication.

I understand that editing errors occur, I work in the business, I work for a professional publication.  We are human, we miss things.  I would never claim to be perfect, I’m sure someone could pick out at least 50 mistakes of mine in this one blog post.  But the degree of which this article was grammatically incorrect was horrible.  Yet, no one remarked on it?

It just scares me to think, that we have gotten to the point where we accept bad grammar as something that is “okay”. 

Whatever, just needed my rant today! 

In an effort to beg your forgiveness…I bring you…a big blue ox.

Happy Johnny Appleseed Day!