Okay, so I'm a little dramatic. But "Chuckie", (thanks a hell of a lot, little kids that came over to my house a few years ago and thusly named you and I stared at you for several minutes when I'm all alone, supposing you would move at any given moment and grab a butcher knife out of my kitchen) passed away when I was gone on my camping trip.
A moment of Thanksgiving Decoration Silence please:
"Oh my gosh. What happened to him?"
"He developed a bad case of ghetto pants, sagging way below his underwear- and Emerson peed on his feet."
We had no recourse but to take him off Scarecrow Support, return him to his original box and put him in the... trash.
But do try and remember Chuckie in his better, younger, and happier days~ he'd want you to.
His last request was that we will all find it in our hearts to have a heartfelt toast to his long (2002) Happy Harvest life
with nothing but the best;
Penn. Dutch Egg Nog,
lest he died completely in vain.
Chuckie who?
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Emerson peed on his feet??? yikes.
ReplyDeleteRIP Chuckie...
Say it ain't so!
ReplyDeleteSince there's a scarcity of most excellent Egg Nog around here, I'm off to add a dash of Bailey's to my coffee in honor of poor Chuckie's demise.
Maybe two dashes...
Oh yeah - Pennsylvania Dutch is the BOMB!!! Those Amish know how to party.
ReplyDeletePoor Chuckie. Well, at least he looks like he died happy.
Oh Egg Nog...how I enjoy that Egg Nog!! :)
ReplyDeleteChloe,
ReplyDeleteWe are going to send Emerson up to NYC and have Mya straighten his peein' azz out!
Becky,
ReplyDeleteI know Chuckie, rest his strawed soul, would appreciate it.
Baileys is SO good but makes me meaner than a hornet if I have too much. (The sugar.)
Jack Daniels makes me mean as a hornet, but oh how I love it. Jack and Coke is my absolute favorite cocktail but so so bad for me.
ReplyDeletePolly,
ReplyDeleteYou know P.D.E. too?! You are right, that is the bomb!
Our liquor store (business owners all have their favorite liquor store) always advertises:
"We have Penn. Dutch Egg Nog! When it's gone, it's GONE." And boo hoo for you if you waited too late.
None for you until next year.
Hey, "A"!
ReplyDeleteI'll tell ya, A- instead of all that pie after your (outstanding) Thanksgiving dinner, we really should have loaded up on Penn. Dutch!
Besides, my pie wasn't as good as your pie and it certainly didn't have rum in it.
Why didn't we think of that?
(Girl, Thanksgiving rocked and we so appreciate you, "M" and babygurl "B". xxooxo)
I used to work at a wine and cheese shop where we sold it during the Christmas season. Occasionally, they'd let us open a bottle while we worked. It was great.
ReplyDeleteSadly, I haven't seen it in years, though.
How do they manage to get so many different liquors in there and still have it taste like egg nog? It's a small miracle, I'd say.
Polly,
ReplyDeleteOoooh, I know. And by a toasty crackling campfire on a chilly night- it's nearly heaven.
Too bad I didn't know you then. I'd come in your wine and cheese shop and mess with ya- order 102 bottles and then go, "I'm kidding!"
But you, being all hopped up on P.D. Nog, would not think it through, throwing your cheese balls at me.
See? Now you're fired. Why'd you go and do THAT for, huh?
I would certainly never throw cheese balls at you! Do you have any idea how long it takes to make those things?
ReplyDeleteAlas, poor Chuckie. Looks like he came out on the losing side of a fight with the bare bodkin.
ReplyDeleteI'm really not grasping just how liquor makes you lovely ladies so MEAN. I get nice when I'm drunk, and I just keep getting nicer and nicer until the evening goes on, until finally I get overenthusiastic with the hugs and knock something precious over. I once dusted off a table (and every single bottle and dish on it) just trying to get up from it.
Postman,
ReplyDeleteI would pay good money to see you do that! Awesome. LOL
Naw, see, I'm great when I'm drinking. It's the next day that I'm a stinker.
It's like this: You're talking to me! Stop talking to me!
Why aren't you talking to me? Don't you love me? You don't love me! I KNEW IT. I'm leaving. I hate you.
You don't love me, and I hate you too. You bastard.
Postman, still want to pass me that Bourbon?
Your pie was VERY YUMMY and so was your casserole!! We really enjoyed having ya'll over with all my crazy family! Same time, same place next year...ya'll are in the family now..of course you literally might be in the family cousin! :)
ReplyDeleteDid everyone hear that? "A" said my pie was YUMMY.
ReplyDelete"A", guess what? I used Splenda! Hahahahaha. Like I didn't already gain 82 pounds from Thanksgiving. Lord, girl.
Your "crazy family" is precious! I adore your mother.
See you next year. Splenda & all, Cuz.
(We really might be cousins. How cool is that?)
I am now HIDING the bourbon. Unless you give me some of your pie.
ReplyDeletePostman,
ReplyDeleteI'll give you pie. Wanna talk to me? Hmmm? Why aren't you talking to me? Don't you love me? ::::pour::: Aaah, you do. Good. Gimme more. I'll tell you more tomorrow. SUCKA. lol
Heh heh heh...mmmm, pie.
ReplyDelete