My dumb weekend–by June

Well, obviously I lived through the state park experience. You know why? BECAUSE WE NEVER FOUND THE STATE PARK. I do not know whether to blame Marvin's navigational skills or MapQuest.


We took our good pal Tallulah Blueberry Gardens along, and I was annoyed enough that she had to lean on the arm rest from the back seat. What's wrong with just BEING in the back seat? You're eight millimeters from us.


And yet, it didn't take long for her to worm her way onto my lap, where, unless you want to shift, be not hot, or be not covered in dog fur, is just fine. Do you enjoy my artful aerial shot?

Since we drove all over yonder, as they say here, we decided we could at least stop at a yard sale, where I bought a china shepherdess for a dollar, only because Laura Ingalls Wilder's mother had a china shepherdess. Which she similarly got at a yard sale for a dollar. They just parked the wagon and browsed.


Who loves himself long time for posing just like the shepherdess? Actually, why do I think she's a shepherdess? She looks kind of like a Southern belle, doesn't she? Do you see one of those hooky sheep-gathering things? I totally duped myself, didn't I?

Someone pulled the wool over my eyes. BAH!

We also too stopped to look at puppies!


PUPPIES! PUPPY SNICKERDOODLES! Hello, good puppies. Who loves you? Does June love you? Who will take you right home? Is it your Aunt June?

Who made me get in the car and leave because he has ice in his veins?

Finally, old arctic arteries stopped at some tiny place that at least had water, but it was NOT A STATE PARK.


Tallulah did not enjoy walking on a floaty dock. She got this low crab walk going, and she was looking sophisticated, is what she was looking.

Unsure Lula not sure. Lula hide under daddy drawbridge. Daddy also china shepherdess.

Scaredoffish Lula also fear dead fish. Lula tough pit bull mix. Please take Lula home.

After yesterday's nonevent, I had to get back in the car today. One of my oldest friends is moving to North Carolina and I did one of those things where like a year ago I said, "Well, when you're moving here, if you need any help, just let me know."

Don't you hate it when people take you seriously when you say stuff like that? Like, once my friend Renee was having a party, and I similarly gave the phony "If you need any help let me know" speech, and girl, I was hauling furniture and ice bags and schlepping to the flower mart and the grocery store. I mean, by "let me know if you need help" I mean, "I'm trying to sound like I'm a good person." I don't actually MEAN it.

Really, though, I jest. I got in the car with my Sirius radio and headed off to the country where my friend is moving. The house they are thinking of renting is cute cute cute, but I am loathe to show it here, seeing as many of you may be dying to stalk my friend, who I have never mentioned till today, and certainly if I show you his cute 1950s kitchen, you will be able to find him and slice him to bits with a rusty razor.

Because it'd be worse to get sliced to bits with a RUSTY razor. Not only would you be dead, you'd be infected and dead.

The POINT of my story is that the place my friend is moving is really close to the corner where I found Tallulah. In case you are just tuning in, a year and a half ago I was driving out of town to a job interview and I found a little yellow puppy on a busy two-lane road, so I snatched her up and missed the interview. And that is how I got Tallulah, of the Fearful of Fish Tallulahs.

So I drove around and I FOUND HER CORNER! It was so exciting. Here it is.


What if the people who live here stumble on this blog and know I stole their dog? I am so dusted off. FOR THE RECORD, I stole her because she was on the street, she was so skinny I could feel every bone, and she was covered in fleas. My first instinct was to knock on all these doors, but once I held her skinny self and felt her tail flap-flap-flapping on my business interview suit, I said, Oh hell no. This pup is coming with me.

Plus, I don't even know if she lived in any of these houses. She  may have been dumped off.


Here's the road I sat on with her, holding her skinny self and trying to decide what to do. I know it looks quiet, but that is actually a two-lane highway up there, and people go 65 down it.

I like that one angry strand of hair escaping from my head in the rear view mirror, there. "You may have tamed that dog, but you can't tame me, bitch lips!" Yes, my hair does call me bitch lips. What about it?

Now it is evening and it's almost time to take Henry out for firefly watching. Because he deserves to be rewarded for his constantly charming behavior.


Poor Winston has never done anything wrong in his life. Why must he be tortured by children?

Speaking of torture, there are only eight days left in that ding and also dang funniest blogger contest. Since they eliminated the cheaty-pants votes, I am in second place, after Cake Wrecks, which I find very funny. I am two million votes behind Cake Wrecks. But keep in mind they pick from the top five, so I still have a shot at winning. And if I win, I promise I will help each and every one of you move or have a party. Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help!

P.S. Keee-RAP. Longest post ever. Special of the Week goes to Lety. Go click on it and see why.

27 thoughts on “My dumb weekend–by June

  1. Oh my gosh, I don’t think you want to help us move! We’ve been here for almost 33 years. I don’t even know where we would start–the basement? the attic? the workshop? the lawnmower building? Not to mention all the stuff in the rooms we live in (I know I should’t end a sentence with in).


  2. I’m just agog that Footless Foodie (or whatever) went from 17,000 votes to 717 votes. Her people must have set their timers for 30 minute intervals and voted 48 times a day. I bet their employers are uber happy to be paying them for THAT productive time at work.


  3. Hi Elizabeth…
    From my perspective, June is not accusing bloggers of cheating, she thinks people who vote are taking advantage of a bug in the system to vote more than once a day from the same email.
    Now, take a deep breath, push yourself away from the desk, open a shade, get dressed, and go outside. Try dealing with the three-dimensional world for a while…very refreshing. Outside not scary…outside good…


  4. In fact, Elizabeth, I DID have cheaty pants votes! I said so the other day, and thanked people for trying to buck the system. I think I said it in the comments on Thursday or Friday.
    I can’t believe I am having a conversation using the term “cheaty pants.” See what I start with my stupid phrases?


  5. I saw your comments about the Cheaty-Pants votes and I don’t understand. So now I am confused, June. At the close of the day on Monday,June 22nd, you had 2969 votes. Today, Monday, June June 29, at 3:30 p.m. you had 2644. Did you also have votes taken away? Today’s vote was after you received 83 votes on Friday, 27 votes on Saturday and 51 votes on Sunday. Even if you take the 161 votes from the weekend and the 66 votes you created by 3:30 today…you still are not at the 2969 you had on Monday, June 22. And you called you fellow Bloggers, “Cheaty Pants” …


  6. haha. I won!
    I can handle MJ passing because at least we still have Elvis.
    Also, you forgot snakes and alligators. Them’s the ones I worry about.


  7. Oh I’m all for fake color! Spray-on, lotion, heck, Marvin could even put on a pair of those shimmery figure skater tights for all I care. I don’t want his skin to be damaged, but does that mean our eyes have to suffer? 😉 Then again, I live in Southern California, so my understanding of “normal” pigment is probably slightly warped.


  8. My dog insists on getting on my lap in the front seat too. How could that possibly be comfortable for them? I’ve ended up with bruises on my legs from him moving around, standing up, sitting down, laying down, up again, etc., etc.,. I’m a pushover when it comes to my dogs.


  9. Did you know that when you own a truck, or an SUV in which the back seats fold down, helping someone is INFERRED~”Hey, I have to move this four-thousand pound couch out of my basement to my high-rise loft–can I borrow your truck?” “Yeah, sure–when are you coming to get it?” Oh, I thought you could drive over and help us…”. Plus, being big and strong and handsome, I am expected to do any and all heavy lifting. People. They are the WORST.
    Like how I threw “handsome” in there???


  10. I read cake wrecks occasionally too. But I can’t imagine where they came up with 9 gazillion readers to vote all the sudden. For weeks they had almost NO votes, and now they lead? Very interesting. . . .
    I am so glad you didn’t find the state park and get dismembered and fried up and eaten. Cause that is the kind of thing that would happen at a state park. I bet Marvin Gardens and Miss Tallulah would have defended you from the marauding dismembering axe-murderers, anyway.


  11. They may have stopped the cheaters but now they have stopped everyone…or at least me! (and if it isn’t about you it is all about me!) I tried to do my daily vote (does that sound like I live in Chicago?) and the evil voting police told me that I had they had “detected an illegal vote”. What’s with that?!
    Of course I’ll try again later…I think the cake people have hacked into the system and taken over with their buttercream laden fingers.


  12. “You may have tamed the dog but you can’t tame me, bitch lips”!!! Bwahahahaha! Oh you crack me up. That line alone should win you funniest blogger in that ding dang contest.
    I’m getting ready to paint all of my rooms, move furniture and redecorate. Can I count on your help???


  13. Sharone, white is the new tan. Take it from me, who used to be as dark as night and now is the brightest white. Once you have malignant melanoma, you can’t go back. Don’t tan. Really… I’m dead serious. Stay white, my brother.


  14. Sharone, white is the new tan. Take it from me, who used to be as dark as night and now is the brightest white. Once you have malignant melanoma, you can’t go back. Don’t tan. Really… I’m dead serious. Stay white, my brother.


  15. Sharone, white is the new tan. Take it from me, who used to be as dark as night and now is the brightest white. Once you have malignant melanoma, you can’t go back. Don’t tan. Really… I’m dead serious. Stay white, my brother.


  16. “Eight millimeters away from us”? ONLY “eight millimeters”?! In dog years, eight millimeters is EIGHTY-EIGHT KAJILLION DING DANG MILES AWAY!!!!! We weren’t even in the same STATE!


  17. You mean you didn’t stay home all weekend and watch the up to the minute All MJ ALL THE TIME channel? No?
    Me neither. I’ve been at the beach getting more lice in my hair.


  18. You said “After yesterday’s nonevent” and because I apparently have some crazy dyslexia, I thought it said movement and that you were talking about your bowels AGAIN. You didn’t, so thank you, but I did, so now it doesn’t even really matter. Go ahead and discuss your poop. At least I won’t have to imagine it then.


  19. Your shepherdess reminds me of the time I bought a porcelain southern belle figurine out of the back of somebody’s van that was driving around the neighborhood, driveway to driveway.
    Kind of creeps me out now, but seemed perfectly normal at the time.


  20. Wow, that is a very fine pair of white pants Marvin is wearing there. Seriously? Man needs some pigment in them there legs. If he was naked on that dock, he would have been downright invisible.


  21. Those pups are so cute! I would love to live on a farm and have a gazillion animals. I tried to get my husband to pull over so I could rescue a turtle out of the road one time. He would not do it! Ice Ice Baby…He is too COLD!


  22. Amy,
    Apparently, there were people voting somehow all day or something, and technically only one vote per day PER EMAIL. Which I guess means you can vote from all of your email addresses, but if you use the same computer, they make you wait half an hour betweenn votes. Kind of like eating and going in the water. If you vote too fast you get a cramp.


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