Monkey Butts, Chickens and HollaGals

William was removed from his kindergarten class yesterday afternoon. Seems he called someone "Monkey Butt." When I asked him about it (trying not to laugh), he hid his face in his hands. It was all I could do not to laugh. My mom asked if he learned it from me. Nope. The only time I call him a name is when I greet him. I say "Hiya Cool Cat or Peace, Dawgie Dawg." And on those occasions, he cheats at Nintendo 64, I say "Cheater Cheater, Stinky Feeter."

Monkey Butt... not one of mine...but I just might use it the next time I need to insult someone.

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Chickens. Yes Live ones are now a part of my neighbor's household. At first I thought there were only a few. But today as I drove by, I saw about 10 of them. Young ones...scrawny and chicken brothable. They look like they fell off a truck. I'm thinking by the weekend, a few will have made their escape and I'll be chasing chickens out of the yard. The rooster has a great cock-a-doodle. It woke me up at 5 am. Now I don't mind cock at 5 am...hell if I can get it to crow even better...but thin scrawny feathery ones...well, that's a whole other chicken bone.

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This morning I caught a few of the music videos on VH1 and MTV. The one that caught my eye was "HollaGirls" By Gwen somebody from the No Doubt group. What an annoying song! I'm looking for the Country Music version to come out soon "CollardGals."

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The oldies station has a catch phrase. The first part grabs me and before they finish it my mind has rewritten the last part...so I can't tell you how the original sounds. Sorry but I have a strong mind and it won't listen to me half the time.... the beginning of the phrase is "Good time Odies, we pick you up"...I add..."And never let you down." I'll have to try and contain myself when I hear it again. See what they really say.

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A lemon donut and lemonade don't mix on the taste buds.

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At my house, we make sweet iced tea. I have a pot just for brewing it. I bring the water with the sugar added to a boil, take the pot off the burner and then add the tea bags. Let them sit for a while and then transfer it all to our tea jug. Granny wanted something to do Tues morning, so I assigned her the task of brewing tea. She blew up the bags! They literally exploded. She wanted to take the strainer and get the tea leaves out. But heck, the tea was black as coal. No way would it taste right. I tossed it. She wasn't happy. I'm sure the tea pot wasn't either. How traumatic, it must have felt. Guess who made the second batch? Yep...I did. I may have to get CSI out here to figure out how the tea bags exploded.

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I've been wearing sandals to work this week. One of the lady merchants on my street was over at the bakery today. She was sitting at the little table, sipping a diet Sprite and listening to mine and Gail's conversation.

Gail: "what new, Sherrie?"
Me: "nothing. I have no new news. I am newsless in L'ton. Hmmm... maybe there's a made-for-television movie here."

The lady: "would you play yourself?"

Gail: "she better not. How would her daddy get along without her."
Me: (Not saying anthing...caught in the fantasy of being a star on Lifetime or the Hallmark Channel)
The lady: "I would offer one sugestion. Don't wear toe rings. They make your toes look short."

I have a toe ring on each foot.

Me: "Would bells be better?"

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