Gratuitous ultraviolence interlude
Take it from me. Never underestimate the foontz.
Take it from me. Never underestimate the foontz.
There was a point within the first ten minutes of Nick’s and my hike up Lookout Mountain Monday morning where I honest to shit thought I was going to die. This is mostly because I am dismally out of shape and unaccustomed to coaxing my body to do much more than stand, sit, and — if I’m lucky — writhe a little every day. Suddenly I was using obscure leg muscles to propel myself…
Okay. I am kind of squeamish about doing this, but the way I see it, the best-of-Memphis competitions have for too long been dominated by the same blogger, and it’s time to knock the tube-top obsessed off the leaderboard. Fire sale information and salacious and sometimes clandestinely taken pictures of tanned and tipsy women are great and all, I guess**, but there are other blogs out there that deserve some love too. And no, I’m…
Coneflowers! Taken in the garden at the Chattanooga Choo-Choo. I’m going to write about my fabulous mini-vacation in the ‘Noog soon enough. I am having trouble finding enough hours in the day lately to do much writing at all. This, I assure you, is a good problem for me.
(Cross-filed in the shameless friend promotion cabinet) Check out these sweet page designs featuring Shane McDermott’s artwork. The Facebook page is my favorite, even though Shane had to bust ass to get it done on deadline since his original sketch was lost to the ether thanks to some kind of shitty Illustrator-related technical glitch. Shane, when he reads this post, will probably leave a comment saying that he likes the Facebook illustration, just not as…
The neighbor apparently isn’t fighting her portion of the trumpet vine as insanely as I am, and this little bough dropped over the fence and started blooming quite fetchingly. Which makes me so angry, given its pissy attitude. I hate. This. Vine.
For once I actually had July 4 off work. That only happens every few years, so I decided to make the most of it and head to Saltillo to take part in the annual grilled-meat-and-pyrotechnics-a-thon. A fun twist this year is that I somehow convinced the manfriend that he should get in on that shit and come with me. So we took off as early as we could coax ourselves to Sunday (think…
I finally got wise and gave this hummingbird vine something to climb on. I’m grateful for vines that are lovely and don’t give me nightmares.
Zinnia grown from a bag of second- and third-generation seeds my mom kept from her own garden.
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