Blog-jogged

I've spent a large amount of time today reading the blogs of everyone who comments on mine......I had some catching up to do, not like I get an over abundance of comments. The comments I do get, I truly appreciate and enjoy...truly. Well, unless you're mean then I truly enjoy deleting your comment...truly.

Reading other blogs tends to jog a lot of memories for me....from now on I'll be referring to this phenomenon as a blog-jog. (It is now impossible for me to hear the word phenomenon and not think of the Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper commercial....menamana...doot doot doo doo doo....phenomenon...doot doot doo doo doot)

Juno is now one of my favorite bloggers.....she has a sense of humor very similar to mine, consider yourself warned. Today's blog-jog.....feel free to use my new term, I'm not selfish.....anyway....blog-jog...today....Juno posted about a conversation she had with her husband. Something about her changing her first name to an Indian name. By Indian she didn't mean the country of India....just the word we used to use for Native Americans and I still use it, cuz I'm old, cranky and don't care. I still use queer, fag & homo, too....especially when talking about myself or some of my favorite fags, queers &/or homos! The point to all this? Yes, actually there is a point. It blog-jogged a memory of a conversation I had with my Mom many moons ago. (did ya get the Indian phraseology? I know...I'm good!)

In the middle of the night I made the mistake of getting up to go potty. My Mom....who makes a regular habit of getting up to go potty at ungodly hours and then has the incredibly bad habit of not going back to bed....heard me moving around and when I left the potty she followed me back to my room. We snuggled down into my still warm blankets and began talking about what our names would be if we were Indians. We didn't stop with just our own names.....Mom was She Who Love Puffs Often (Her "tummy problems" will be covered in a future post. For now I'll just let you know that Love Puffs are her way to say FARTS.)....I can't remember mine...probably something about my fear of having split ends.....Mom loves standing behind me in a line and making comments about all my split ends, really funny Mom....just remember who will be wiping your butt when you're old and senile! My name could have had something to do with peeing myself when I laugh....She Who Pees With Laughter....yeah, that would be me!

Back to names: As I said, we didn't stop at our own....we came up with names for ALL of our relatives. Dad was He Who Growls, Bubba....hmmm....can't remember my brother's...might have had something to do with his being an artist....He Who Draws With Sticks & Buffalo Poo.....cousin Timmy was He Who Farts Loud & Often (....like Mom can talk!). We were laughing so hard that we woke my Dad up....true to form, he came in and growled at us...that only made us laugh harder. He wasn't enjoying our middle of the night merriment. Odd.

We never did go back to sleep......throughout the day we'd come up with names for friends, neighbors and even celebrities. We finally had to stop cuz I had gone through 3 pairs of undies laughing so hard.....Thanks for the blog-jog Running Fart!