Note to self...write letter to Comedy Central.

Dear Comedy Central,

While watching Graham Norton the other night (good call on that one, by the way), I noticed that the word "dick" was being bleeped out. A few nights later while watching Ron White's special, I noticed the word "prick" was *not* being bleeped out. Heh? What's up with that? If I was doing the bleeping, I would be bleeping "prick" before I would bleep "dick". I mean really now, come on.

A viewer,

Sherry

Okay...on to other things.

So, I buy a new swim suit at *blaring trumpets* Target the other day and I decide to get the boy short bottoms thinking they would cover a skeench more than regular bottoms. I really like the top. It it sort of a halter type top, white w/blue flowery thingies. I put the bottoms on that night, turn away from my husband and ask, "Um...is my ass hanging out?"

"No." he replies.

"Well it *feels* like my ass is hanging out."

But, out I go to the pool anyway. Guess what? These are the weirdest feeling bottoms I have ever had on. Not for public consumption. So now I have purchased some board shorts to cover the boy shorts. Sheesh.

I have like four bathing suits now. The one piece for public viewing. The tankini thing for public viewing. This aforementioned two piece for home and, believe it or not, the two piece *string bikini* (complete with beads) for home, but only at night. Girl, I am stylin'. Too bad they don't make Hammer Pants acceptable swimwear.

Subject change.

I went and picked peaches this morning. The research station has pick-yer-own peaches so me and my friend/aquaintance/guy who works across the hall from me* went to get some. Of course as soon as we start picking, it starts drizzling. Everytime I reached above my head to get a peach, I would also get a shower of rain falling off of the leaves. Joy. But I didn't really care 'cause while I was picking a peach with one hand, I was totally munching down on another with the other hand. These things are awesome! My f/a/gwwath ended up having peach juice down the front of his shirt. Luckily, I managed to lean far enough forward, I stayed pretty clean. Just wet. We got back to the office and divvied them up and had 44 peaches each. Recipe suggestions anyone? Wait, let me guess...cobbler? Try another, I have that one.

Ahhh...life is juicy.

*Actually this is what is across the hall from me...

Yep, the men's room. So my f/a/gwwath is actually catty-corner (kitty-cornered?) from me. That is him in the photo. Notice he is drying his hands. Hopefully that means he washed them.