My first puppy love boyfriend (as opposed to having a boyfriend just for the sake of it) used to tell stories to entertain me.

He had some crazy friends. Horny McSlutty and his sidekick, Stoopid, were visiting a fellow who had a small blacksmithing operation going on in his yard.

They watched the man as he heated a horseshoe in the fire, then dunked it in water, and placed it on a stump. This was done outside. Very small operation.

Stoopid wanders over to inspect the horseshoe, picking it up. He drops it immediately.

The blacksmith guy grins at him and asks: “Hot?”

Stoopid: “No. It just doesn’t take me very long to look at a horseshoe.”

My Grampie was an islander. Islanders are insular, even xenophobic people. He worked very hard in tough times, and froze an eye while caught at sea in a storm.

My Grammie married him when she was 17. I don’t think she ever loved him. But that’s a story for another day.

He, being from an island in the Bay of Fundy, didn’t have overly developed social skills.

I, being a child, didn’t recognize how inappropriate he was by times.

He once assured me that he could blow smoke out his backside.

Grampie: “You don’t believe me?”

Witchypoo: “Grampie, I don’t think anybody can do that.”

Grampie: “Well, I can show you the nicotine stains on my drawers.”

Strange sense of humour, Grampie had.

I got a call from Warrior Woman a few minutes ago.

WW: “What’s wrong?”

WP: “Whaddya mean, what’s wrong?”

WW: “I’ve been checking your site all day, nothing.”

WP: “I didn’t write anything today. If you subscribed in a reader, you wouldn’t have to check, you’d be notified when I update.”

WW: “I know that. But why?”

WP: “I just don’t have anything to say today.”

WW: “Like PMS?”

WP: “I don’t get PMS. Never have. More like laziness.”

So, if anyone is worried, I’m just lazy and slightly antisocial today. But also, slightly bloated.

The End.

Overheard, years ago in hallway. Two young boys playing.

“Lets play Batman.”

“Okay.”

“You can be Batman.”

“Cool!”

“F*ck you, Batman!”

I snuck away before they discovered I overheard them.

And? At least they weren’t fighting.

After whining and being a general pain in the backside, I have received my itinerary for the summer.

And no, I won’t be travelling to the states, just regional venues.

The fun of this is I get to stay with two of my bitches, and there is another to do my bidding.

Of course there is Skinny Bitch. Can’t wait to see her!

I have a man-bitch in the same city where she lives. He drives me to see my Grammie, and usually takes me out to dinner while he’s at it. I’ll call him my Port City Bitch. He’s really awesome. He talks a mile a minute, and never fails to make me laugh. I think at first he made himself useful to me in order to get close to Skinny Bitch. (Every man is a sucker for SB.) But we’re pretty good friends now. I really enjoy my Port City Bitch.

My third bitch is another man-bitch. We’ve been BFF’s since high school. I’ll call him BFF bitch. He is bar none, the BEST!

His wife is a very smart woman, and conversationally engaging. We get along well, but I take umbrage that she abuses my bitch. When she said one time that she wished she had a bitch too, I reminded her that you have to praise your bitch, and never call him arsehole.

I do love all three of my bitches. Am I a lucky woman or what?