Wow. It has been a little over a year since anything was posted here. As you can see a rhyme can still come to be. As if that would ever go away. Over 3200 posts proves the rhyming is here to stay.
But thanks to some glitch the blog was coming up with a bunch of danger signs that the site wasn't safe or some crap like that. That means away it went because all links were screwed even when I changed back to the blogspot address.
Did it bother me? Not really. I still have many once a blogger following me over at the insta place and I can always find something to keep me busy. Plus, blogging isn't what it used to be. But...there's always a but, right?...Somewhere between mare pee and fossilized poop came a realization.
I guess you can say an eye was opened. Both eyes really, as I haven't been converted to a pirate since my last post. What? You don't believe me? The pirate angle explains it? Sure. You go with that. I bet you believe I'm really a rhyming cat.
But I did go in the water at the giant litter box and walked the plank off that bridge due to the not so tiny humans egging me on. How can you egg without eggs? Beats me. So maybe there is a little pirate in the sea. Wow. I went off there. Guess I still have it. From fossilized poop and mare pee to pirates. I know you are dying to know. Do you die when you know? Damn. I shouldn't have come back. I don't want to kill anyone.
How about you just look at this and relax like them? All better now, right? You aren't dying to know any longer, right? Right? Right? Good. I'm off the hook if you croak now.
But just in case here is four instead of three. I'd rather use caution with you dying to know and all of that.
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Damn. I woke them up. Shouldn't have stopped your dying to know crisis. Or maybe I shouldn't have just went on and on after the whole pirate thing. But meh, you're used to it. If you aren't then oh well. Anyway, where were we? Busy? Mare Pee? Fossilized Poop? They say the only way out is through, so onward from busy we go.
After the butt licking massages...
The fun bit of snow...
The rugrats and the pigs...
The rugrat and the horse...
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A little island view...
A little dock view...
A tourist trap lighthouse...
A fart in an ear...
A waterfall at low tide...
A werewolf trying to eat the rugrats...which may or may not have scared the crap out of one in the morning...hehehe What? Don't judge? No one likes a hinky hemorrhoid. Oh. Right. You haven't been introduced to hinky hemorrhoid.
It is just something the rugrats and I say as we adventure away. It was mixed into this latest release too. A month old or so. I can still write. Wow. Who knew? The mare pee and fossilized poo, I guess. Making sense yet? Getting there. I kinda, sorta, maybe promise. Back we go...
A rock mountain staring at me. How dare it watch me. So rude.
A suicidal cat...
A wildfire...
50 or so more rugrat adventures...
An aerial dock view...
An aerial road view along the water...
Jumping from a big bouncy castle...
Crawling across a bridge you aren't supposed to...shhhh
A good old flood...
A...hmmm...hmmm...maybe we should stop going through and skip to the end. See what happens when you wake up the cats?
So between the mare pee and the fossilized poop the old wheels started turning. Blogging may have had its day, my blog may have turned into a glitchfest, I may be elsewhere and doing other ventures, I can write and slap a book up without the need of a site, and there are more important things in life than blogging or rhyming...even if you have good timing...but...here comes the but...you can/do make some really great connections on here. And if you are lucky you meet in person. Not that the cat believes in luck, in case you forgot, or that you want to meet all because who needs a stalker, but you do meet some nice people once in a while.
You also learn that back in the day birth control was made from pregnant mare urine. Glad I never had to worry about taking pregnant mare urine. Sounds lovely though, huh? Did you know that? No? Now you do.
I told you I'd get there. One down. One to go.
You also learn that when her brother asks where your books can be found, you really have no one spot because of a glitched up blog. So you get off your ass. Yep. Can still say ass with or without class or gas. But in this case I'd be on my ass and not off. Just to clarify.
Anyway, you get off or on or say you're off while on and then fix the main stuff going on with the stupid glitched crap and get the site back up for all to see. The custom url may be glitched but good old Blogger is still alive and well. Glitch rectified. And, hey, it's free.
Then you add the second book you put out last month and...
May as well add the third too to make it all up to date.
Now when a brother or sister or cousin or third cousin ten times removed asks if you have a place, you can say yes. And voila. There we are. Site is back. One whole post over the 3200 posts that used to be there shows. My 100+ books show again. And no glitch seems to be in view with what I've fixed.
All from a meet up after 12 years of blogging together, a question from a sibling, some mare pee birth control, and what was it? Oh yeah...
Fossilized Poop!
The End...
You still here? Sorry. No cut scene. We don't have the budget of a Marvel movie. Hell. We don't have a budget. We talk in the third and first person just to make it look like more are here. You still have questions? Who is she? Spoilers, people. Spoilers.
She has the picture proof, so I'll leave that to her.
See ya when I see you blogverse. Whether next year, next month, or next century. Hmm...should have done that in a better order. Oh well. Ugg. You are back to dying to know?
Patience, Grasshopper. Be one with nature, preferably when no one is watching, and just breathe.
Stay alive, don't be a hinky hemorrhoid, and remember who needs class when you can be a little rhyming ass.
And if all else fails...eat some raw seafood and poop on people. It works for the seagulls. If you have to be a hinky hemorrhoid you may as well go big.
And now I am done. Onward to fun. What comes next?
We, the cat, me, I will cross that bridge when we come to it.
Unless the bridge has a barricade, is on fire, flooded, or otherwise full. Then we may take a boat.