I'm here!

Hey there! I said that I'd post when I get to the internet and here I am!

On Sunday I helped out my Uncles and Cousins with branding. It smelled real bad. Burning hair, the moan of the prostrate calves, straddled by two cowboys, yep, that's branding. It's rainy where I am, so Sunday was the first day that it hasn't rained in a really long time. Yesterday it rained like non-stop.

At the branding my brother had fun sneaking up behind the unsuspecting calf and grabbing it by the hock instead of roping it. In all he was able to grab about 6 or 7 calves.

As I was saying before it rains alot here. Like, all the time. But the air is fresh and the experience is priceless!

I'm spending time with my Grandma today, so I can' t hang out at the local library too long. Yep, I was able to finally get internet access at the library.

I hope to talk to ya'll soon, but I really have to be going.

Oh, and the other day my brother was having a deep conversation about baby oil. So you get the drift here is the main dilemma. "If olive oil is made from olives, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from?" You get the idea. Weird pondering.

To entertain y'all

To entertain ya'll here is a random snippet of nothing in particular that I wrote in a time of boredom and writer's block. (Writer's block associated with what I was supposed to be working on, that is). Remember, I did promise randomness!

Three days later, Mort returned. He returned with a princess. She was, in essence just like every other princess Ward had seen before. And he had seen more than his share, with Bob being married to one and Mort rescuing one almost every other week. (You see, sometimes while rescuing one princess he would find another in distress as well, and save her too. Not to mention all the people Mort rescued that weren’t princesses).

                This princess was no different, she was beautiful, charming, perfectly poised, and completely in love with Mort. In fact she had already planned their wedding down to the last frosting rosette on the seven foot tall, twenty layer wedding cake.

And Mort was scared. Not of Princess Harriet, but of the raving madman who was running full out toward them, waving sword. He was old, it was true, but he was menacing just same, (old men waving swords usually don’t do so unless they want to look menacing).

The madman was the king of Lardo.

Though at that moment he looked more like a pauper than a king, running about in his long john underwear usually had that effect on kings- and people in general. The sword added a whole new level of insanity to the almost comical situation.

I know, I cringed. It was pretty bad. I tend to write lots of stuff just to amuse myself, and that stuff that I write in moments such as those is complete and utter nonsense. Just thought I'd amuse ya'll.