I'm not afraid of fireworks or balloons now. When I was 16 and we were in Paris on Bastille Day, I watched the fireworks from the first level of the Eiffel Tower. I went to the fireworks in a nearby town about 15 years ago with a group of friends. But even though they don't scare me anymore, I still don't like them. My job on the night of the 4th, traditionally, was to stay inside with my parents dogs and hold them and calm them down from all the noises.
At times I felt like i was missing out on something, something that everyone else enjoyed. But with time, I realized I'm never gonna like them, so screw it. Someone has to watch out for the animals, don't they?
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Speaking of animals, I now longer have to take care of the Olympic Shot-Pooper. My parents got back this afternoon (and had a fine, fun trip, thanks for asking) so my responsibility to scoop the poop has ended. But I did manage to get this this morning:
This is Angel doing what she does best...or at least does a LOT of: poopin. (I didn't get a close up or anything, didn't want to gross anyone out...toooo much).
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the deviled eggs turned out pretty good. Although they are missing something, they don't taste like Mama Shockey's or my cousin Brian's (who likes them like I do), but they're still good. I had trouble getting the yellow stuff into the eggs, so they weren't terribly aesthetically pleasing, but they tasted okay. Take a look for yourself:
As I said, not much to look at, I'll grant you, but they tasted okay. I guess on subsequent tries I can be more careful about the placement of the yellow stuff.
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Got an email from someone-who-shall-remain-nameless, asking me about the titles of my posts. Why I chose them and where they come from. I thought it was pretty obvious, but apparently it's not. So, they are all lines from songs, and they all have something, no matter how obscure, with something I'm talking about in the post. Should anyone have questions about a title (like where it came from, or why I chose it) feel free to drop me a commment and I'll explain.
POLT
We all want something beautiful. Man, I wish I was beautiful. - Counting Crows, Mr. Jones
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