MK forum

So true. Mixed messages for sure.

And my little personal beef with the women's work detail during the training: those of us who were married but didn't have kids yet, had to do work detail with the single girls, and then come home and do all the housework, cooking, laundry, etc. Just like the women with children did. Because of course, back in those days, none of us expected any help from our husbands with any of the "women's work" around the house.

Yes, I was pregnant too. Cutting up road kill deer in a cold pole barn with frozen fingers and queasy prego-tummy. NOT good memories. I can't stand the smell of venison, to this day.

Off topic, but yeah ... an old memory that still irks me.

And hence the great song from the musical "The Sound of Mischief"

Doe, no Doe
Therefore a deer
Razz a drop of Golden Sun
Far, along way she is from here

So, more strange poetry
Me, I'm out of sequence
Lo and behold
This makes no sense

P.s. If someone would kindly write to:

mrsbemused@somewhere.co.downunder

And mention that she is very fortunate to have a man who cooks, cleans, provides for her every need . . .

Trust me, I was trained by nurses

Chocolate fish in it

Rolling with laughter over here ...

Well Ms Razz No Doe, Sew Skin a Deer. When you have finished rolling on the floor and recovered your dentures yet again, would you mind writing to Mrs Bemused and advising her how lucky she is to have . . . . .


P.s. No problem being off topic. I realize that this thread starts with poetry that is serious and hard hitting, so it is nice to have a break from that. We can come back to that another day, today is the weekend, so time to relax (and wait for the customary Raz "Amen").
It's the first day of Spring here, so that would mean it is the first day of Fall (Autumn) tomorrow in Razzville?

Hmm .... first day of Autumn is not till Sept 22 here ... does that make sense? I'm not a scientist.

Another thing that doesn't make much sense ... we Americans are celebrating Labor Day .... by not laboring!

It's a good thing we choose to laugh about things that don't make sense. Because there are plenty of them!!

I've been laughing at things that don't make sense since our family went to Boot Camp back in 1974. That's when the craziness started in earnest. It was the only way to cope and come out sane, although the jury is still out on a verdict on the sanity of one Bemused of Downundersomewhere.
Now I laugh with friends, not have "so called friends" laughing at me. Much more preferable.

P.s. how is that letter to Mrs Bemused going, she will be waking up to breakfast in bed shortly, if you hurry up I could print it off and have it folded nicely between her croissants, next to her bacon and eggs and just above the freshly squeezed orange juice.