Green Bay, My Patootie

Two things are on my mind today.

The first one is the whole Packers -vs- Brett Favre fiasco. I hate thinking about it and admitting to myself that it is even really happening. Everyone is talking about it and they all have an opinion and it gets confusing when I try to wrap my head around it. But you know the saying, opinions are like @$$h0le$, everybody's got one.

And speaking of asses, I come to the second thing on my mind. SSB's sister, brother-in-law and nephew are in town and we went to a water park yesterday. I almost stayed home and feigned cramps or diarrhea or dengue fever or whatever I might get away with because being a natural redhead (that has faded to blonde surely on its way to grey), the sun and I don't get along well. But mom-guilt got the better of me and I joined them. Turns out I should have lied and stayed home.

I took two trips down a water slide and am paying dearly for it. When you first go down the chute of this particular thrill, you run over these white drains that look like the heating and air vents on the ceiling of most houses. Very ridgey. The first time I went down and felt the drains of death I thought, wow that hurt. So the second time I thought I'd stay propped up on the innertube a little more so my ass wasn't dragging. But as I looked down the seemingly straight-down slide I must have chicken out, puckered up and hunkered back down into it because my cheeks went rolling over them again, just like driving over the rumble strips on the side of the highway.

SSB thought it looked bad last night but today is even worse. Just like Favre's reputation I am battered and bruised and taking a beating. And with both of us, its getting uglier every day.

Words will not suffice so I am exposing myself to the whole bloggy world. Granted, there are worse pix on the web and I DO have undies on this one, but I am forewarning you anyway. You may not want to scroll down if you are in the presence of small children or are at work or are, say, MY DAD. Or maybe you're just not in the mood to look at my almost 40 year old butt. And you if you should choose to continue, you COULD click on it to get a bigger, better idea, but probably you shouldn't.

Scroll on, brave soul. Scroll on.
















So there you have it. Lock, stock, and smoking barrel. I am taking my black azz and logging off. Good night.