I haven't been able to post much because Blogger has been behaving like a dirty cunt. I'm looking into other hosting options.
And now I have to go bury my gramma. Don't be sad, she was old and miserable and waiting to die for the last 25 years. It's more of a relief than a sadness.
So, definitely no dribble for the next week.
Side note: try to live your life in a way that people aren't relieved when you die.
Met an interesting man at the park in Mexico Beach yesterday. He rode one of those tricycles and followed me and the dogs into the park. I didn't see him til he was right up on me and Dexter got barky. I pulled Dexter's lead and he got nowhere near the old dude but, old dude still got all riled up and cussed me out and threatened to kill my dogs and then me.
In truth, Dexter got nowhere near him. That didn't stop Mr. Magoo from getting off his bike and coming at me. For a moment I thought about standing my ground but remember, this is a conceal-carry, stand your ground state where if the shooter is brown and the guy with the gun is white, well, the brown guy is obviously guilty of something. So I walked away as he shouted threats and expletives at me and my dogs.
I hope he ends up with ass cancer.
I must be away now. You kids play nice.
Postscript - gramma used to sing this to me as a small child. Gross.