The Platypus

I scared my husband last night when I told him that I had blogged about blow jobs.  I think he must have assumed that I had finally ‘gone there’ and blogged about something really over the line.  Kind of like how my girl Anne does it!!  But I quickly prevented him from having a coronary and insured him that it was all really quite innocent. Part of me thinks I should be blogging about cunning lingus today, but I think we’ll save that for another time.

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As I sit and type this it is -11° and with the wind chill, we are reaching -27°…with possible wind-chills reaching all the way down to -45°.  I was wrong the other day when I said it was cold.  Today is cold.  But it is winter.  And we do live pretty far north.  What the hell were we expecting anyway!

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So the plane crash in the Hudson River yesterday?  Absolutely amazing.  The fact that they all survived and the pilot seems to have made all the right choices is astounding.

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I’m feeling pretty random in my blogging today.  I think I’m trying to get something down on paper screen just for the sake of staying connected and consistent.  But I seem to be lacking in any real substance.  So on that note, I’ll end.  With a poem.  About the platypus.

The Platypus
I like the duck-billed platypus
Because it is anomalous.
I like the way it raises its family
Partly birdly, partly mammaly.
I like its independent attitude.
Let no one call it a duck-billed platitude.

by Ogden Nash

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