Sometimes they write themselves.

Three things:
 1) I have a great friend named Kevin who can always make me laugh. He's happily married to his partner of 12million years, but if he ever decides to try the straight side- I know I get first dibs.

2) I have a ukulele student who likes to "spontaneously song". She opens her mouth and she's written a new song. This week's gems included chickens learning to swim, "the flippers helped them greatly" was one fantastic line. And yes, it all rhymed. But the best line hands down was from a song about a quilting otter, "cross stitch isn't a skill you often use"... I nearly fell off my chair.

3) My friends often make fun of the fact that I remember so much random (mostly) useless information from the articles I read. They also make fun of the fact that I read articles about these things at all.

The following is what happens on facebook when Kevin and I are online. 

Status update:

I will NOT read the article on tanning deer hides using natural materials. There is no reason for me to learn this.

L.Bo- especially since I already read the article on using soldier fly larva to consume waste and create animal feed protein.. Why do I read and retain this stuff? Why can't I remember my seven times tables?

Kevin- Seven times seven equals an awesome pair of fringed suede buckskin boots. Eight times seven makes them thigh-high.

Nine times seven? I'm not even going there.

L.Bo- chaps... a matched set.

The worst part of this is... next time I'm trying to remember 8x7 .. I'm going to start laughing uncontrollably.

Kevin-No, the worst part is that I'm going to be awake all night envisioning variations of unmatched chaps.

And that won't be the worst way I've spent a night. 

This week

L.Bo-I love you.

Kevin- That's only because you bring out the worst in me. I was a contender for Pope before I met you.Assuming pink smoke would be recognized for the miracle it would be.

L.Bo- So. um. I was just trying to picture the pope in chaps and then realized how very wrong that was.

Kevin- Totally cackled. Totally love you. Totally blamed you for waking up the dog and making him bark, which woke up Jer, who was "watching a movie".

If any one of them was wearing unmatched pink suede chaps, I'd simply die of joy.

L.Bo-  " I simply died of joy" I want that on my gravestone.

Kevin- Cross-stitched. In granite.

L.Bo- Obviously

"cross stitching isn't a skill you often use" ... said by a quilting otter.

Kevin- Cross stitching is no more a skill than ballroom dancing, or making venison jerky. It's an art you're born with. Or buy at church bazaars.

L.Bo- I was born with so.much.art.

Kevin- And I was born with silk floss, patent leather shoes and deer meat. I complete you.

L.Bo- See? I just died of too much joy.

Kevin- Let's make a pact: No dying until the pope wears unmatched pink suede chaps. (Which, in light of recent comments, isn't as far-fetched as one might first presume.) My guess is that it could happen in celebration of the first anniversary of Saint Liberace Day.

Or did you mean "la petite mort", which would cause me to avert my eyes, shuffle my feet and blush.

It was at this point my computer had a temper-tantrum and started acting like I was leaning on the enter key... after some rather embarrassing/ odd posts, I decided it was time to take my leave.... but not before my computer tried to link each line I wrote to "what the poo dude" . So random!

Kevin- sleep well and fully chapped

L.Bo- half chapped= 7x3