A Frosty Reception

 

First, no summer;

now autumn’s disappeared.

I’m not complaining or anything, but why do we have frost in September when it’s supposed to be autumn?  To be fair, which I don’t feel like doing, we kind of had autumn in summer, so I suppose an early winter was inevitable. 

Nature better get her act together or somebody’s going to get a kicking (there’s a reason I hold on to the Hub, and it’s none of that soppy love note business).

Yes, I’m still in a bad mood; I woke up at five, then watched Beckett pretend not to love Castle.  Of course I’m in a bad mood.

a question (Photo credit: the|G|™)

A sleep-deprived Tilly is not a pretty sight.  Somebody pass me the duvet; I think I hid the funny there.

Go here for more Six Word Saturdays.

 

Joke 548

 

From Will & Guy.

NWalesJul09_038 (Photo credit: Richard Sz)

An American farmer was on holiday in Wales.  He could not resist exploring the hill farms north of Aberystwyth.  At lunch time he dropped into a pub and fell into easy conversation with a Welsh farmer.

“How big is your spread?” asked the American.  

“Well look you, it’s about twenty acres,” the Welshman said.

“Only twenty acres?” the American responded.  “Back in Texas I can get up at sunrise, saddle my horse and ride all day; when I return at supper time, I’ll be lucky to cover half my farm.”

“Sure, sure,” said the Welshman.  “I once had a horse like that, but I sent him to the knackers’ yard.”