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Where were you the weekend of January 11th and 12th? Perhaps riding the Phoenix Light Rail pantsless to “celebrate silliness” (more like madness) with folks in about 30 cities all over the world? No, I didn’t think so.
The next chapter starts now. Get out the pad and pen, because the New Year is upon us. Ready or not, here it comes.
Sarah I got on a ladder.
Freedom. What we all want. The ability to live freely, go where we want to, speak our minds, not be oppressed and be able to engage in the pursuit of happiness.
Do you want to grow as fat as a pumpkin? Yikes, I meant to say, Dear Readers, do you want to grow a fat pumpkin?
Alexa, are you spying on me? Evidently, so, because the latest analysis of how our “devices” never turn off, seems to allude to the fact that your private conversations are not so private.
Keep the faith! Never give up! Always believe!
Oh, Hillary, how we worried about you. Yes, we can all breathe a sigh of relief, as Hillary, the stranded donkey who was marooned for three years on a tiny island, has now been successfully rescued.
We are in an all-out search for the “special” friend of New River resident Diane Wilson.
I bought my husband, Doug, a pair of yellow shorts. Who knew that color was so important?
It happened again. I was stuck in the misery on I-17 over Memorial Day weekend. What should have been an easy drive became the nightmare called “going nowhere fast” for more hours than I care to consider.