Armadillo porn.

If you could see me through your monitor, you would see that I am typing funny. I mean, of course I just typed “funny” but I am typing ‘funnily.’ If that is a word, which it is now.

You’d type funny (funnily) too if you’d just finished a huge heavy denim quilt. My fingertips are pricked so thoroughly, I could probably pick a lock and open a safe. Which, considering our finances, might not be such a bad idea, said finances being a major reason I am making quilts instead of standing in the register line at the Lenox store, which, my sisters might be interested to know, I also did today, since our Lenox store is going out of business and everything is 70% off.

What a horrible sentence. Oh well, I’m off duty till January.

We took my sweet MIL with us, and she seems to be speaking to me now, so perhaps my peccadillos of Tuesday have been forgiven.

I giggle whenever I hear the word ‘peccadillo.’ Not that I hear it all that often. But honestly, doesn’t that word make you giggle too? It’s just so funny. Like armadillo porn. Not that I would know.

I think I just grossed myself out, I mean really grossed myself out, I mean REALLY. . . . .

Peccadillo.

So, Scotty, want to meet again soon?


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