So, when I told y'all all that Daniel Boone and I were friends, I honest-to-coonskin meant it. We really were. Then I noticed that if I met anyone else, I would think, Yeah, you're okay. But you're no Daniel Boone.
Then I noticed if he told me about women he was dating, it made me want to set myself on fire and barf and hang myself in rapid succession, which makes no sense because the rope would catch fire and also wouldn't I be barfing on it? but there you go.
Dick Whitman is forever telling me about his bevy of women and I find it riveting and entertaining. So I knew something was up.
I like how it takes me 48 years to catch on.
Anyway, I discussed it with Daniel Boone, who I was certain would not be into me, and it turns out I was wrong about that, too, and what I like about myself is my quick and insightful mind.
So, we are giving it a try. This seeing-each-other thing. And if it doesn't work and we can't be friends after, I will never smile again because I love being friends with Daniel Boone. What I like about myself is my lack of drama.
Tomorrow we are introducing our dogs. He has a chocolate Lab. Soon he will have a dead chocolate Lab. Soon I will have a nervous Edsel.
why eds got to meet new people, mom? edsul mizzanthrope.
So there you go. Oh! And I am forcing him to take me to the fair Saturday. If you have read this blog a long time you will recall I always go to the fair. Now I have to make up another sentence so I can link to a different fair post.
What I like about myself is my subtlety.
I must go now so I can Wen my hair, which by the way I am not so impressed with. I think I have the same old George Washngton hair. The penny called...
