Tuesday, July 26, 2011


The recent grizzly bear attack on seven teenagers can be blamed on Don Ford, the Alaska director of the National Outdoor Leadership School, the group operating the wilderness program.

Don claims he told the students to "Play dead if they spotted a grizzly."

Apparently he failed to add, "This does not include screaming "BEAR!" and trying to run away."

"The bear came really fast, that was super unusual."

Well excuse me, Don.  I guess the bear didn't attend your little briefing.

All of the injured will survive. 

Kind of a shame, don't you think?

Another opportunity for removing stupid people from the gene pool is lost.

Sunday, July 24, 2011


Don't tell me to stop whining about the heat.  Stuff it.  It's too freaking hot.
"Pretty soon you'll be complaining about the cold."

No.  I won't.  I can put on another sweater.  And gloves.  And a coat and a hat and leggings and more socks. 

I'm buck naked right now and it's still hot.  Not just naked and still hot, but Buck Naked.  That's the most naked a person can be.   

"Heat, ma'am!  It was so dreadful here, I found there was nothing left for it but to take off my flesh and sit in my bones." ~ Sydney Smith, Lady Holland's Memoir

What I hate most is what happens in my neighborhood.  My underwear neighborhood.  I never wear a thong on purpose, but when my normally reliable cotton underpants get sweaty (yes, I said sweaty underpants), they start that anti-gravity slide up the crack and before long they're stuck up there.  Look around.  Have you ever seen so many people picking their underpants out of their bums?

There is also the hot, sweaty boob crease.  Women and fat men know it - that area just beneath the breasts or moobs where the sun never shines.  I'm putting Secret there now.  It helps a little.  I'm so grateful I don't have testicles.  I think there is a band named Sweaty Balls.

The heat is making me feel a little light headed.  Confused.  Slow.  Stupid.  I don't aim to do nuthin'.  Ah cain't hardly move an' I sure cain't talk fast.

That must be what's wrong with people in Alabama.  Melted brains.

The good news is men now know how a hot flash feels.

©2011 Mimi McMouth