Today is Saturday and that means a visit to Frizzy Lizzy time, Please do join us
Hi, It's Frizzy Lizzy time
"Hi, Sarah! How's it going? Nice to see you this morning! How was your Thanksgiving Day? Really? Sure, I have fresh coffee and something other than pumpkin pie to get you started. Just leave your boots by the door and put the rest of you in a chair and we can talk."
"I'm glad that Charley and I had Thanksgiving together this year. That gave me a good reason to refuse my sister's invitation and stay home and have a pleasant day with Charley instead of a house full of drinking, burping, farting, and football.
"No, silly, I wasn't burping and farting! I didn't have to! Her sons-in-law did enough of that for me - and six other people!
Last time I was there they were playing cards while I was helping out in the kitchen and they got drunk, I mean inebriated, blotto, had a snoot full by the time we were ready to have dinner."
Now do you remember my little Dachshund? That's right, the black wiener dog, Sarge? You do?
Well, anyway, I had him with me and all was OK. He was the only dog there and he stayed out of the footpath.
So everyone eats, including the two sons-in-law, both of whom are lit like a Christmas tree before they start eating. They manage to get through supper without missing their mouths or spilling anything, I have to give them that much. All goes well, they have a few more beers, then the older one crawls into the recliner chair to watch football."
"Now this really piercing odor starts coming over toward the dining room and I can't figure where it's coming from. It was awful, like Satan melting brimstone! So I get really curious and I begin to think that it's the dog. Now what the hell am I going to do about that?
I can't tell the dog to stop farting. I can't give him a Beano pill because it's already too late for that. I can't put him outside because it's cold and icy, and if he sees another animal, he'll be off chasing it. So I try my best to scold him, nicely, of course, because the house is warm and full of people."
"So I go over by him and I give him a dose of 'Bad dog!', complete with finger wagging, and he looks at me with the quizzical look that all dogs give their humans when they have not the foggiest idea of why you are yelling at them. I tell him again, 'Bad dog!', and he turns his head sideways, maybe in the hope of getting a better understanding of why mommy sounds upset."
"Finally, I'm about ready to find my heavy winter jacket and put my boots on and take the little guy for an airing-out when I hear this KAA-RRRRRIP! Immediately my nose is assaulted by an odor of molten brimstone, so sharp that the little hairs in my nose are on fire! The dog looks up at me as if to say, "I told ya it wasn't me!"
"That lazy-assed, overfed, drunk-out-of-his-mind older son-in-law of hers is asleep, farting loud enough to need a permit and polluting the air badly enough to generate smog in the living room!
I apologized to Sarge and got my jacket and boots. A walk did both of us some good."
"So between turkeys stuffing themselves and fruitcakes getting blasted and farting like it's suddenly a new parlor game, I'm glad that I stayed here with Charley. We had a prime rib roast, garlic mashed potatoes, a nice, fresh salad, dessert, and a quiet night with only pleasant aromas.
I hope that your Thanksgiving was at least that good, Sarah."
"Hi, Sarah! How's it going? Nice to see you this morning! How was your Thanksgiving Day? Really? Sure, I have fresh coffee and something other than pumpkin pie to get you started. Just leave your boots by the door and put the rest of you in a chair and we can talk."
"I'm glad that Charley and I had Thanksgiving together this year. That gave me a good reason to refuse my sister's invitation and stay home and have a pleasant day with Charley instead of a house full of drinking, burping, farting, and football.
"No, silly, I wasn't burping and farting! I didn't have to! Her sons-in-law did enough of that for me - and six other people!
Last time I was there they were playing cards while I was helping out in the kitchen and they got drunk, I mean inebriated, blotto, had a snoot full by the time we were ready to have dinner."
Now do you remember my little Dachshund? That's right, the black wiener dog, Sarge? You do?
Well, anyway, I had him with me and all was OK. He was the only dog there and he stayed out of the footpath.
So everyone eats, including the two sons-in-law, both of whom are lit like a Christmas tree before they start eating. They manage to get through supper without missing their mouths or spilling anything, I have to give them that much. All goes well, they have a few more beers, then the older one crawls into the recliner chair to watch football."
"Now this really piercing odor starts coming over toward the dining room and I can't figure where it's coming from. It was awful, like Satan melting brimstone! So I get really curious and I begin to think that it's the dog. Now what the hell am I going to do about that?
I can't tell the dog to stop farting. I can't give him a Beano pill because it's already too late for that. I can't put him outside because it's cold and icy, and if he sees another animal, he'll be off chasing it. So I try my best to scold him, nicely, of course, because the house is warm and full of people."
"So I go over by him and I give him a dose of 'Bad dog!', complete with finger wagging, and he looks at me with the quizzical look that all dogs give their humans when they have not the foggiest idea of why you are yelling at them. I tell him again, 'Bad dog!', and he turns his head sideways, maybe in the hope of getting a better understanding of why mommy sounds upset."
"Finally, I'm about ready to find my heavy winter jacket and put my boots on and take the little guy for an airing-out when I hear this KAA-RRRRRIP! Immediately my nose is assaulted by an odor of molten brimstone, so sharp that the little hairs in my nose are on fire! The dog looks up at me as if to say, "I told ya it wasn't me!"
"That lazy-assed, overfed, drunk-out-of-his-mind older son-in-law of hers is asleep, farting loud enough to need a permit and polluting the air badly enough to generate smog in the living room!
I apologized to Sarge and got my jacket and boots. A walk did both of us some good."
"So between turkeys stuffing themselves and fruitcakes getting blasted and farting like it's suddenly a new parlor game, I'm glad that I stayed here with Charley. We had a prime rib roast, garlic mashed potatoes, a nice, fresh salad, dessert, and a quiet night with only pleasant aromas.
I hope that your Thanksgiving was at least that good, Sarah."
Thank you again for dropping by and taking a few minutes to read Frizzy Lizzy. I would appreciate knowing what your thoughts are on it. Thank you and have a wonderful Saturday.
✿ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿
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