X-Rated Stuff OR How the Title May Effect Hits

Recently my writing bud, R. Mac Wheeler, guest blogged on my blog.  Naked Pictures and Wild Life.  Check it out.  So he got a ton more hits on his blog than I typically do on mine.  Why?  Good photographs?  Yes.  But I think it was the title.  I was thinking if I had an X-rated title, I would get more hits.  So I'm experimenting.  The actual title should be something like "How I'm Planning to Snark for the Remainder of this Blog or So Ya'll Want Something More Racy, Huh?"  Oh, shitaki mushrooms.  (Writers are jealous people.  It's in our nature.  We're always looking at other people's works and saying, "I could have done that.")

This is one of Mac's photographs, which I like a lot.  He does something
neat with the colors and it's kew-el.  However, it's not going to
stop me from making fun of the fact that his blog outstripped mine.

Other subjects that make me sound less snarky, but not much less.  HOME FRICKIN' IMPROVEMENT.  As I've previously stated, HIM, the man to whom I'm married, said I'm like a dysfunctional cat trying to mark the entire house instantaneously.  (That's a lot of cat pee, let me tell you.)  Moaning Myrtle is no more.  Instead I've got a new potty with buttons.  BUTTONS!  I love the buttons.  One button is for peepee.  The other button is for poopoo and probably other stuff, too.  I had to explain that to my daughter who is eight and used to a potty with a handle.

Which brings me to another subject.  The downstairs half-bath was the recipient of the first new potty and it had all of us fighting over who got to use it first.  (Doesn't that sound sick and wrong?)  I just wanted to press the buttons.  My sister wanted to know if it was a bidet, too, but it isn't.  Too bad.  I don't really want a bidet but I would like to go to a hotel that has a bidet so I can see how it works.  (Home Depot does not sell bidets.  Neither does Lowes.  The people at Home Depot and Lowes now know us personally.  They asked about my rash.  They also started sending me coupons and I can't remember giving them my home address.  Big Brother is watching us.  I didn't rip the tag off the mattress in 1978.)

Where was I?  Meandering.  Again.  It's a hopeless flaw.  Sometimes I have a point and I completely forget what it was.  Like now.  Oh, yes.  The bathroom.  Well, we moved to a new town and a new state and I'm having to get used to everything.  Including the local fauna.  This house has its own fauna.  There are spiders everywhere.  I think they're some kind of Daddy Long Legs.  The one in the downstairs bathroom (see, I got back on track eventually) is called Bob.  Bob hangs out in the corner where I couldn't reach him if I wanted to reach him.  I was okay with it as long as Bob stayed up there.  Live and let live as long as Bob didn't trespass in my private area whilst I was pressing potty buttons or doing something else.

HOWEVER, Bob done messed up.  Yesterday, our daughter went into the downstairs potty and then immediately came back out in a marked hurry.  Turns out that Bob had come down from the ceiling.  Alas Bob met his maker.  It was very sad.  But today my daughter came out of the same bathroom.  (We use bathrooms a lot don't we?)  She said, "There's another Bob in the bathroom."  Haha.  Bob Jr. took up residence.  They must have a waiting list.  (I wonder if they're related to the Daddy Long Legs in Arkansas.  I sure hope not.  They might have sent each a memo about me.  Check out On Camping OR OMG I'm Going Camping Again.  There are illustrations.)

Did I misspell the a-word?  Too bad.  My blog.

Also we have chipmunks in the front yard.  I spent about thirty minutes on the Internet trying to figure out what kind of chipmunks they are.  I couldn't find out.  I know that they're not related to Alvin or Chip and Dale.  Also I learned that chipmunks are not spelled chipmonks.  I've been misspelling that my entire life.  Color me embarrassed.

But wait there's other kinds of wildlife abounding.  I went out front to look at the rain and almost stepped on what I thought was a lizard.  It was a lizard but it's a lizard I've never heard of before.  It's called a ground skink.  It was about four inches long and black.  I thought I was going to levitate.  (I did levitate.  Fat Women can levitate in dire circumstances.  A tiny black thing with a wiggling tail lasciviously eying my foot is almost certainly a dire circumstance.)  And most importantly, it was a NAKED ground skink!  It was completely unclothed on my front porch!  Who says that living in Alabama isn't exciting?

There it is.  The X-rating.  A naked ground skink.
I've sunk to a new low.