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.


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!


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.


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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