What?

“What?”

(But hear my voice -or Samuel L. Jackson’s– when you come wandering into my classroom with time on your hands while I’m staring at the computer wondering who needs strangled next.)

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His Samuel L. Jackson impersonation.

Tomorrow is the last day of school. It has been a glorious and terrible week of exhaustion, panic (failing students panicking, not me), and universal done-ness. Tomorrow my colleagues will have an adult meeting with adult beverages and ramble on about their own done-ness.

I am not done.

If I can get the publication kids done, that’s a positive step, but that rarely happens in time for attending the adult meeting.

I am never done.

Miles and I will just leave this here. Whoever wrote it didn’t get the quote quite right, but it is my favorite desktop graffiti. Found during yearbook camp– yes, that’s a thing- that I attend and teach at during the summer.

Just another sign of my not done-ness.

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“Say ‘what’ again. I dare you.”

Today in Bad Taxidermy Choices

Hello, today in Bad Taxidermy Choices, I’d like to talk to you about the Indy 500 Mink. This elusive little bugger is all geared up to drink champagne, and celebrate with the pit crew after an exhilarating day of turning left.

His price tag may only say $12, but his beady eyes and attention to racing details screams, “PRICELESS!” IMG_4650

(Someone liberated one of Gma’s mink stoles for this re-purposing. The whole contraption is being held up by one of those doll stands that is supposed to grasp the doll around the waist. If I had ANY affinity for racing, I might have spent the $12 even though the doll stand had a $30 price tag on it. Hard pass on that.)

We all know that deer mounts are a dime a dozen, so it takes a really special eye to handcraft Rudolph then seamlessly blend him in with a Tyrannosaurus Rex, questionable antelope, and big horn sheep.

Rudolph’s fur is now a delectable crust of  some silvery white craft paint off the shelves of Jo-Ann Fabrics or maybe leftover house paint.  Who can say? I assume the electrical source is threaded through the mouth.

Genius!

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While Rudolph was compelling, Disgruntled Fox  was the real star of this booth. His derpy, snaggly snout slurred, “Takes me homes, preazzzzz.”

Unfortunately at $239 Disgruntled was out of my price range. This was no Indy 500 Mink. In fact, every thing in this booth was priced with $39 as an end number. Magic number, I guess.

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These bad taxidermy choices are not to be confused with these crap taxidermy choices which started as a website and are now in a book which a thoughtful friend got me for Christmas.

******Side note: when I searched Crap Taxidermy in Amazon, it showed up with another book called Images You Should Not Masturbate To. It is worth following the link just to read the Customer Review comments.

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May the Fourth Be With You…and also with you (is what I think Jedi church sounds like)

Lurk inside the shower curtain I will.img_7841

Aggressive Leia: I WILL GUT YOU LIKE A TAUNTAUN, YOU SCRUFFY LOOKING NERF HERDER! (Leia, lines please.)

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Pleading Leia: Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope. (Birdie says it with her eyes. That’s commitment.)

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My nerd research team said that Yoda and Leia never met, but THEY’RE IN MY BATHTUB! (Don’t ask why. Just accept that it worked out that way.)

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Today’s award goes to Olivia Wigglebothum: Least Cooperative Yoda.

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No Jedis were harmed in the writing of this blog.

Seriously, this was like 5 minutes of their evening and then there were snacks. Birdie didn’t even get out of her napping position.

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Poop. It’s Monday 

Ah, here is Monday disrupting the bliss and privacy of the weekend. Much like an uninvited guest invading personal bathroom time. 

Poop. It’s Monday. 

This is how MomBert’s cat GGK poops. Three paws on the edge. One paw in the box. Poised for action. Always. 

Don’t look directly into her eyes.


It’s because she was raised by raccoons, I’m sure of it. 

Yes, this opossum was pooping in my yard. Its stance and level of concentration made me suspect what was happening. I confirmed it the next day. Bunch o’ poop in my flowerbed. 

Why was I spotlighting it while I suspected it was pooping? 

Opossums have huge egos. They love that shit. 

Monday.