True Story Tuesday - My Email All Blowed Up

 

I don’t even know where to start.

It was epic.  Truly epic.

A 2-1/2 hour improv session with some of the funniest people around.

And this week, you know all the players:

Shana, Tiffany, GunDiva, and Mr. Daddy!

 

MY EMAIL ALL BLOWED UP

alternatively titled

FACEBOOK REGRETS TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU HAVE EXCEEDED YOUR COMMENT LIMIT FOR ACCEPTABLE CONTENT.  CRABS, FARTS, AND SHAVED BUTTOCKS ARE NOT CONSIDERED ACCEPTABLE CONTENT

 

Disclaimer:  I am a lightweight.  While I’ve never done Buzzed Blogging, this could be considered “Fuzzed Facebooking”.  I confess that I took some of Itty Bit’s grape Triaminic in an effort to survive another evening.  Drinking toddler cough syrup may make things seem inordinately funny – what follows is only a fraction of the hilarity.

 

It started out not funny at all.  The neighbors ten acres away were target shooting in their back field… while their horses ran loose around them.

Which freaked out the horses on the property between us and the shooting neighbors.

Which freaked out our horses.

 

Middle neighbor’s horse crashed through our front pasture fence and the normally friendly Joey decided to fight the intruder.

 

This resulted in an open wound to Joey’s pretty head and a fence post broken CLEAN IN HALF.

Mr. Daddy slung a leadrope around his neck and attempted to keep from getting trampled as the possibly not sober neighbors continued to fire round after round.

It drove me nuts that they could see the scene and didn’t stop shooting.  I may or may not have yelled across the fields, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? STOP SHOOTING!!”

(Shooting on your rural property is fine, but when you freak out livestock across three properties, and see the damage… be a good neighbor and quit for five minutes)

This led to the following Facebook status that unwittingly ushered a convo for the record books:

 

That is NOT a typo.

Epic clue:

ONE THOUSAND NINETY-SIX COMMENTS

 

GAH!

 

 

Shana was all about safety.  Poor Tiffany was in the hospital with her little girl, but in fine form:

 

GunDiva joined us for a bit with her trademark wit:

 

And my Tiffany showed early on, why she is a founding member of the Snort Sisterhood:

 

Shana blew it open with this comment out of left field.  Triggered the first howls of the evening:

 

 

Alerted by my uncontrollable laughter at Shana’s posts, Mr. Daddy decided to join the fun…

 

Why did I suddenly get worried about what he was going to say?  I knew he was gonna talk about that “incident” with the Walther P-22.  I decided to engage in some damage control.

 

When Mr. Daddy started snickering at his computer, I should have seen it coming…

 

Really nice of Shana to mention that I’m “mishap prone”, eh?

 

And in poetic justice, Mr. Daddy’s computer had trouble keeping up with the flurry of comments that were quickly approaching 300.

 

In desperation, I figured Saint Poopicus would share  story to take the heat off me.

 

So this is probably where the rest of Facebook got confused when a photo of Mr. Daddy suddenly appeared in my status…

Remember when he won the Dress Barn card?  That was a hoot and a holler.

(And for the record, I love that secure-in-his-manhood redneck of mine!)

 

We kept wishing for King Julien to join us, but alas she was a-slumbering in her cute new hair.  And then we thought 300 comments was pretty impressive.  Little did we know!

 

And then, the pee started.  An hour in and the first bladder cracked.

 

 

Then Shana, the queen of unexpected bombs, dropped this priceless one:

 

 

Go head, I’ll give you a minute to consider how flipping loud we had to be laughing in the middle of the night.  I could barely type through the hysterical laughter, and it started anew every time someone said that blasted word again…

Deep breath – and the hilarity continued:

 

At this point, I realized that my gradeschool friend Liz had no way of seeing Shana’s album.  You know… the one with her baseball size crabs.  And I started cracking up thinking that the two of them were going to become Facebook friends over this…

 

And then the conversation suddenly turned to outhouse experiences.  Let me assure you that the conversation was far, far out of my control by that point.

 

Liz just had me grimacing, but then Mr. Daddy dropped the most perfect punch line into it…

 

And Shana with her husband’s perfect timing…

 

I thought I was gonna get a funny answer to my question – but Shana had me in stitches!

 

We started watching the comment count in awe.  Several “Holy Cow”s were exchanged - starting an entire new branch of conversation…

 

After howling at that… I couldn’t quite get past the word CRABS being randomly thrown in.  And Tiffany proved once again why she has a rockin’ church!

 

I suddenly recalled another phrase that had made me laugh to the point of bladder danger.  Remember the potty mouth post?

 

I tried the comment out myself – to abject failure.  And then the Triaminic and the sleep-deprivation combined to form that perfect storm known as TMI.

 

Let’s just say that Tiffany had us cracking up with her education of sports that require shaving… and then suddenly, we found ourselves in a serious conversation about the amazing things God has done in our lives.  It was whiplash to be sure.  But such a sweet way to end our night-long conversation.

 

 

But of course… it couldn’t stay serious for long.

 

And after we poor ladies finally stumbled to bed, I woke up to find these messages.  Which cracked.me.the.heck.up.

I can only imagine how crazy that conversation looked in the morning light!

 

 

So if I randomly shout out BATMAN, you’ll know why.  And you’ll congratulate yourself for not being my Facebook friend

 

(disclaimer: I actually am not a Facebook fan and was considering deleting my account – so glad for a final hurrah if so!)

~

 

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