Remember Bela Lugosi in Dracula – 1931 compared to Ian Sumerhalder of Vampire Diaries.
Henry Hull in Werewolf of London – 1935 verses Joe Manganiello of True Blood
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Vampires and Werewolves
The good thing about vampires and werewolves…they’re more attractive than the used to be.
Remember Bela Lugosi in Dracula – 1931 compared to Ian Sumerhalder of Vampire Diaries.
Henry Hull in Werewolf of London – 1935 verses Joe Manganiello of True Blood
Remember Bela Lugosi in Dracula – 1931 compared to Ian Sumerhalder of Vampire Diaries.
Henry Hull in Werewolf of London – 1935 verses Joe Manganiello of True Blood
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Wet in the 'baccer field
I was driving to work in a Category 2 storm when I noticed a bulk tobacco barn –or ‘baccer barn, if you’re so inclined—was missing the entire front of the barn and the ‘baccer was strewn about on the ground. I looked to the right of the barn and caught a glimpse of a little dark car in the ‘baccer field.
The road I was on led to the local high school, so, like the good mom that I am, I said a prayer and turned around. I called my husband who’s in law enforcement, but I couldn’t reach him on any of his ten numbers, so I dialed 911.
And I said another prayer.
Praying that this was an old accident that had already been call in, and if that wasn’t the case, hoping that some man would stop so I could send him out into the field to investigate.
The dispatcher kindly informed me that I was the first. Oh, joy.
I knew what I had to do. I didn’t want too, but I did it anyway.
The dispatcher insisted that I stay on the phone, so I opened the car door and stepped into the driving rain with a purple umbrella that was meant for a martini and my cell phone. Rounding the car, I came to a screeching halt.
There’s a river running beside my car. Not a real river. Not a ditch full of water. Just too much water, running too fast. It was too wide to jump and too far to walk to get around, so I did the only thing I could do, I stepped in it. With my little black flats.
The water was cold, but sucking it up, I slipped and slid my way past the barn, heading for the car. The rows were filled with water, so I did the wise thing and stepped on the hill, sinking my foot up to my ankle in mud. After a few choice words, I pulled my foot up…without my shoe. Now, I’m teetering on one foot (I’ve got my AARP card, so I’m not as agile as I used to be,) holding a martini umbrella, and a cellphone in a Category 2 storm, I did the only thing that I could do…I put my foot down…in the mud…with my sock on.
I think I’m going to be late for work.
After sticking my foot, sock, and mud back into my mud filled shoe, I pressed on. Luckily, the car was empty so I informed the dispatcher and told her I was going home. Heading back to the car, avoiding the hills, because I’m a quick learner, I used that raging river to wash off my shoes. Sliding back into my car, I turned the heater on high—yes, it was August, but I was soaked down to my granny underwear. There was so much mud on my pants, I had to strip on my back porch (hope my neighbors closed their eyes.)
To all those men who drove past me while I was inspecting the ‘baccer field, thanks for nothing.
Whoever owns that little black car, I hope you’re all right. Oh, yeah, and you owe me a pair of little black flats.
The road I was on led to the local high school, so, like the good mom that I am, I said a prayer and turned around. I called my husband who’s in law enforcement, but I couldn’t reach him on any of his ten numbers, so I dialed 911.
And I said another prayer.
Praying that this was an old accident that had already been call in, and if that wasn’t the case, hoping that some man would stop so I could send him out into the field to investigate.
The dispatcher kindly informed me that I was the first. Oh, joy.
I knew what I had to do. I didn’t want too, but I did it anyway.
The dispatcher insisted that I stay on the phone, so I opened the car door and stepped into the driving rain with a purple umbrella that was meant for a martini and my cell phone. Rounding the car, I came to a screeching halt.
There’s a river running beside my car. Not a real river. Not a ditch full of water. Just too much water, running too fast. It was too wide to jump and too far to walk to get around, so I did the only thing I could do, I stepped in it. With my little black flats.
The water was cold, but sucking it up, I slipped and slid my way past the barn, heading for the car. The rows were filled with water, so I did the wise thing and stepped on the hill, sinking my foot up to my ankle in mud. After a few choice words, I pulled my foot up…without my shoe. Now, I’m teetering on one foot (I’ve got my AARP card, so I’m not as agile as I used to be,) holding a martini umbrella, and a cellphone in a Category 2 storm, I did the only thing that I could do…I put my foot down…in the mud…with my sock on.
I think I’m going to be late for work.
After sticking my foot, sock, and mud back into my mud filled shoe, I pressed on. Luckily, the car was empty so I informed the dispatcher and told her I was going home. Heading back to the car, avoiding the hills, because I’m a quick learner, I used that raging river to wash off my shoes. Sliding back into my car, I turned the heater on high—yes, it was August, but I was soaked down to my granny underwear. There was so much mud on my pants, I had to strip on my back porch (hope my neighbors closed their eyes.)
To all those men who drove past me while I was inspecting the ‘baccer field, thanks for nothing.
Whoever owns that little black car, I hope you’re all right. Oh, yeah, and you owe me a pair of little black flats.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Why a penname?
People often ask if I have a penname and why. The answer is simple. There are four stoplights in my town and oh, I’d say twenty or so churches. The last thing I want is a tent revival in the front yard. And I mentioned on a yahoo group recently, there’s a snake handing church in my town and that is true. Now, I’m not knocking the shake handlers, but personally, the only snake I like is a dead one.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
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