Tuesday, July 31, 2012

PostHeaderIcon Bryce's Bathrooms Across America Part II

Oh, the glamorous places we stop at. Only made a total of 3 restroom stops during the 9 hour trip. Not too bad, but some of the places we stopped at were...

Georgia Interstate Rest Area (Around Exit 38)
Rating: 2
I walked Bryce to this bathroom while Vance sat in the car with the baseball bat. Yes, I brought one of Vance's baseball bats to whack the snot out of any crazed person who might attempt to take over my vehicle. When he got out he reported...Mom, there was a guy in there BRUSHING HIS TEETH IN THE NASTY SINK.
Me: Well, he could have been a trucker and was just cleaning up.
Bryce: Well, maybe. Some other guy was in there wetting and combing his hair. The toilets were rusty and gross. I should have went in the woods.

Well...that almost happened.

Cracker Barrel - Georgia I-95 Exit 36A - Yeah 2 Exits down from the rest stop
Rating: 7

Bryce: It was pretty good, although what's the deal with the toilet paper dispenser thingy. It was so low, I had to reach way over to reach it. Every time I reached over to get the TP, it automatically courtesy flushed on me 2 times!!

Blanton Express Citgo - In the middle of nowhere Florida
Rating - a surprising 8

Bryce woke up from his coma sleep and immediately said he had to go to the bathroom. Oh come on, really?? We were at the point where the exits weren't easy on and off the interstate restrooms. The sign said 0.7 miles. It was way longer than that. Nothing town like in sight. I asked if he could please just go on the side of the road and he insisted he really needed a real bathroom. Ugh... I told him he has 30 seconds and if the gas station didn't show up we were turning around and of course at the last second, there it is. It was looking really scary. Completely rundown looking, very back woods. Not quite Deliverance, but close. We pull up. The 2 employees are standing outside the entrance talking. The only 2 cars there. I sent him in alone.....I know, that was probably bad, but I was annoyed and tired and fed up with total random downpours to drive through every 30 minutes. I watched the woman employee walk in for a moment and come back out and talk to the other employee. I was ready to jump out with the bat if needed. I was about to send in Vance and out comes Bryce smiling and gets in the car.
Me: Well, everything okay?
Bryce: Awesome, that place was an 8. It was so clean, it smelled like Pinesol. Believe it or not they had a hand air dryer (guess that is a top priority). I was really surprised when the toilet flushed easily.
Me: Why was it an 8 then?
Bryce: On the wall it said "Bleep you".
Me: Bleep you?
Bryce: You know what I mean. A curse word, like your car talk.
Me: Oh, great. (Then I notice he has 2 suckers in his hand.)
How did you get money to pay for those?
Bryce: Oh, I didn't buy them. The lady gave them to me. She said she only gives them to the kids she really likes.

Banjo music starts to play........

Saturday, July 28, 2012

PostHeaderIcon Bryce's "Bathrooms Across America"

  You know the feeling. You're traveling, on the road, kids screaming at each other in the car, and someone has to use the bathroom. You tell them to wait. Another 10 minutes pass and now they're about to burst in the back seat. You see an exit, a building...is it a restaurant, a gas station, someone's house? You don't know and normally if you have boys you just pull off on the side of the interstate and open the doors and let them do their business on the side of the road. You know how you do it, if you want to be discreet you open the front and back door and they stand in between them so you can make yourself feel better even though the passerbys can still figure out what is going on. If you have girls, or you have to go yourself, this is not the best option. So there's that dilapidated business in the middle of Timbuktu.
   Have no fear, for now you'll have the latest summer version of "Bryce's Bathrooms Across America". Well, what is that? It's Bryce's observations and ratings of random restrooms on a 1 to 10 scale. A 1 is a "Might as well have gone in the woods" to a 10 "5-Star, might as well hang out a little bit longer". Well, maybe not America, but he's probably hit most of the east coast. Oh, and lots of areas in the south. Why, because for as long as he has been potty trained, my youngest child has to go to the bathroom at every restaurant in the Midlands of SC. He has made me stop at friend's houses on Halloween while trick-or-treating and pretty much clog up their toilets, been to restaurants where the men's room has TVs on the walls (he said that might be a dangerous idea b/c someone might not pay attention and go on the floor). We are getting ready to venture to the Gulf Coast of Florida next week, so I am sure we will have many stops along the way. Until Monday, here's Bryce's current review.

Groucho's - Sparkleberry Lane, Columbia SC


In Bryce's words...
The bathroom was pretty good. They need to get a new hand soap dispenser because when you push it the handle flips all around. They also need to get a new trash can. The lid was on the floor all the way by the toilet. I picked up the lid and put it back on though.
Me: Why did you pick up the gross trash can lid?
Bryce: I don't know. I was just trying to be neat.

This from the kid who is my germaphobe partner in crime. Bryce must of liked this bathroom because my husband had taken him to eat, and 2 men had to go use the women's restroom because he was taking so long. The manager was going to get the key to unlock the door when Rodney finally decided to tell him Bryce was in there. I asked why didn't he say something earlier to the other men, and he said it was entertaining to watch them try to figure out if someone was still in there.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

PostHeaderIcon Sweet Justice

Tajia, Tajia Bussert, my wonderful friend and colleague. She can make any situation hysterical. Tajia and I are going to "co-blog" this summer and see how things go. Tajia has 3 sweet, beautiful girls who are 8, 7 and 3. Tajia and I have discovered that enough moronic things happen to our families that people find it amusing and entertaining. Check back each week for a new update! Leave us a comment if you have an extra minute! And now for..........


Timing is everything. That is what is so hard for me...usually. I have no sense of direction or time, and my shortcomings get me into a world of trouble. Sometimes, just sometimes, timing does work out to my advantage, if only to amuse me. I savor these moments.
Several months ago, I was drowning in dates. Not like, "go out on a date" dates, but just dates rolling around in my head. Be here at this time on this dates, dates. Don't ask me why I can't just be normal and use a calendar. I just don't. I can't keep up with keys either. My husband, Berry, has had to install a keypunch lock to accommodate my dysfunction. Berry says that I wallow in dysfunction. I embrace it. Not on purpose, I say...it is just who I am now. Anyway, one of the dates I was to remember was for my three year old, Bethany, to attend a schoolmate's birthday celebration at the Little Gym in Columbia. I carried that invitation around in my car for weeks until it mysteriously disappeared, but I didn't worry, because I was pretty sure of what it said.
The day of the party arrived, and I was excited to take Brittany to the party. I didn't know many of her schoolmate's parents since Berry was the one who did most of the dropping off and picking up of Bethany, so I felt a little out of touch, but that didn't scare me. It was pouring down rain that day, and I wasn't exactly sure where the Little Gym was, but that wasn't a problem. I just called up the Little Gym and got directions. Me and my problem solving self, snap. On the way I started to panic just a little because it occurred to me that the party may have started at two and it was going to be just a little bit after three when I would get there. Bethany fell asleep in the car, but that was okay. I just woke her up, grabbed the gift, and carried her on in. I signed in at the reception desk and asked what time the party started. "It just got started at three...you are right on time!" was the response. WHEW! What a relief! I am the BOMB! So we went on in to the party in progress.

Bethany was a little shy, but that was normal for her. Plus, she had just woken up. The hostess had to lure her over to her friends with promises of good times and good food. As Bethany sat down with her friends for a little "circle time", I scanned the room for just one familiar face and saw none. "This is weird," I thought. "You would think I would recognize at least somebody." So I turned my attention to the party people. They were all big boys, well, relatively big compared to Bethany. No girls. Hmmm. When the hostess announced that the birthday BOY was turning SIX, my heart fell to my stomach. OMG. What was this? The Twilight Zone??? I was sure I was in the right place, and I was almost on time, or was I? I crept back out to the receptionist and asked about Bethany's friend, a GIRL, who was about to turn FOUR. "Oh, her party is NEXT Saturday." YOU ARE KIDDING ME! I discretely retrieved the gift (a cute little doll) and Bethany walked, red faced, back to my car. Here I was, worried I was an hour late to the party, and I was a WEEK EARLY.

Fairly amusing, I admit, but truly, I am used to this sort of thing. Just another day in the life, really. I didn't even think it was newsworthy, but casually mentioned it to a friend on Facebook. By the following week, about everybody knew the story. I don't know why everyone was surprised. Everyone knows I am notoriously late for everything and I am constantly losing stuff. This is just par for the course. I don't think anyone was more amused than my boss, Mrs. Catoe. She asked to hear the story repeatedly, and would ask me to retell it to colleagues if she suspected someone hadn't heard it. She never tired of that story.

Let me tell you a little about Mrs. Catoe, so you'll understand. Mrs. Catoe is so close to superhuman as anyone I've ever met alive. The woman doesn't sleep. I know because I can see that some of her e-mails are sent at four am. I have never had to wait more than 10 minutes for a response to an e-mail. She is at all the work related functions and she seems to know the news before it happens. She is a runner and she does the P90X or Insanity or whatever program daily. "Oh, she must not have kids," you are thinking. WRONG. She has two wonderful boys and she takes care of them when they are sick. She wakes up extra early to cook supper in the morning because she does not have time at night. I am totally intimidated by this woman. Not in a bad way, just in a "healthy fear your boss" way. She is completely likeable, despite her "I've got my ducks in a row and in my spare time I also taught them Pig Latin" ness.

Anyway, I guess that's why she found my story so amusing. This kind of insanity would never, ever happen to Mrs. Catoe. It was so foreign to her, it was like something from a sitcom. Mrs. Catoe does keep calendars. I know, because I have seen them. But I don't think she NEEDS to. I think she just really has it all stored up in her superbrain. Man I wish I could be like her.
Timing is everything, though. Last weekend, I took my girls to Skateland for some skating fun, and who did I see but Mrs. Catoe and her little rising first grade son. How sweet! She was getting him all fitted up with skates and it was so neat to see her being a Mommy. I was kind of panicked, because my girls don't know how to act and they really have problems handling frustration, which is ever present when they are doing anything that involves coordination. I just knew Mrs. Catoe was going to witness things that would make her wonder if I really was qualified to manage a classroom full of children when I couldn't even manage my own children. My heart rate increased immediately,and I began to sweat as I ordered skates for my girls. "Please don't start pitching fits until I can hide in a corner," I prayed.

We started making small talk. "You girls having a nice summer?" she asked my girls. "Sure, sure." She then announced that she was there for a birthday party. As she fastened Zane's skates, she looked up and around. She had that "deer in the headlights" look and asked, "Wait a minute...I HOPE the party is today. What's the date??" I wish I could say I knew-that would beat all-but I didn't, so I said, "Well, it must be around the 8th or 9th or 10th by now, I would think..." (I am such an idiot)- but why am I worried about being an idiot? MRS. CATOE didn't know the date either...what was going on here? It took me a minute to realize...Mrs. Catoe was experiencing the same panic I felt when I realized I was at the wrong birthday party. Zane was the only party kid in that place. Ha ha ha. Mrs. Catoe looked me square in the eye and asked me if I had set her up. "I mean why are you here to see this? Did YOU send me that invitation?" I was stunned at the accusation and I very cooly replied, "Well, I haven't the cunning nor the time, Mrs. Catoe." Truthfully, I wish I HAD thought of it. I do, somewhere in the recesses of my mind have the cunning, I know. There was this one time in college, when I pranked called my computer science professor all night in hopes he would oversleep and wouldn't show up for the final exam in the morning. It seemed easier to stay up all night prank calling then to actually study. That WAS pretty slick. So I guess it wasn't the cunning I was lacking , but the organizational skills and the time. Inviting Mrs. Catoe to a FAKE birthday party WOULD have been a brilliant act, but alas, it wasn't me.

She stormed off to the front desk, I guess to ask for the date since neither of us knew. I should have been amused, but I was really hoping for he best. I looked over at her sweet boy, trying to stand up on those skates. He was so excited about this party. I said a little prayer for her. About that time, the birthday boy showed up. It was over. Mrs. Catoe's nightmare was over just five minutes after it began. If I had just showed up ten minutes later than I did, I would have missed the whole thing, and I would still think Mrs. Catoe was unshakable. I am glad it all worked out, definitely, but that doesn't mean she knew for sure when that party was. Heck, she didn't even know the DATE! She just got lucky, really.

I am so glad I was there to witness her episode, and I am anxious for school to start back up so I can act out the whole scenario for our friends...Cause you really had to be there like I was...with my (when it really matters) perfect timing.
Saturday, May 29, 2010

PostHeaderIcon Saturday Night ER Visits

Yeah, yeah, whatever....I know it has been awhile, again. Don't hold it against me. It has been a week since we made a unexpected visit to the ER in Columbia. It all started when I pulled up to a bloodbath.

I leave the kids with Rodney. Rodney is doing typical manly things like mowing the lawn, cutting weeds, etc...The boys are playing a typical match of WWE on the trampoline and I am on my way home from the grocery store.

I pull up, and Bryce is being his "sweet" little self, directing me into the garage like an airport traffic director. I turn my head and see Vance's face pressed up against the driver's side window with blood all over his face and hands, crying about how it is all Bryce's fault and now he won't be able to go to Gamestop. I'm all like, "Where the hell is your dad???" Bryce says, "He's weed eating. I didn't tell him. He won't hear me."

Apparently during their wrestling match, Vance's teeth went into Bryce's forehead and one of Vance's teeth also sliced the inside of his lip. Later I find out Bryce went next door to his Nannie's house and she asked if anything was wrong and he told her no. They later told me they didn't want to get in trouble so they weren't telling. How in the world I wouldn't notice the murder scene Vance left in the bathroom, I have no clue, but there was a path to the bathroom, it was splattered all over the mirror and sink, and all over Vance.

After I cleaned up Van and took a better look at he inside of his mouth, I figured he better go to the ER since it was pretty deep and still spurting out blood when it pulled apart at all. So... off we went, the time was 7:30 pm. The following is a TOP 10 THINGS TO EXPECT FROM THE ER ON A SATURDAY EVENING.

10. Be sure your child has charged their DS before leaving b/c when it dies in the first 5 minutes you know it is going to be a long wait.

9. Try not to feel like a moron when after 10 yrs. you still do not remember your child's SS#. On the brighter side, they still had his info from when he last visited in 2001.

8. People will try to look worse off than each other by wearing no shoes, shirts, etc... Some these people weren't even going to be the patient. I was worried that DSS would come after us b/c Vance was so filthy dirty from being in the yard all day that I made him jump in the shower before leaving. HA!

7. When Bobby has hit his head, but continues to run around the ER playing and yelling, and his 7 family members (including 3 children under the age of 4) came to "hang out", you better listen carefully for your name to be called or you'll have to wait longer. This child also ran around the waiting room trying to touch sick little babies and played in the trash can.

8. If you feel the urge, approach the ER check-in staff with the suggestion that a waiting room should have designated area for "Non-contagious injuries" and a "I Don't Know What IsWrong With My Child" section. We sat by a little girl with ice on her ankle. She looked safe.

7. Try to refrain from more seriously injuring your own child when they keep asking you if you could please stop at Gamestop on the way home although it is now 10pm.

6. You can trick your child into thinking you can read Spanish fluently when reading all the signs to them while waiting for the doctor to come in.

5. Brainstorm places to eat at midnight where your child will be able to actually eat the thing they order after getting stitches.

4. Get a kick out of doctor #2 when he tells your kid, "But what is the story you're going to make-up to tell your friends instead of what really happened?"

3. Practice wake-up techniques for when your child falls asleep every 2 minutes wearing your sweatshirt and you're freezing!

2. Don't ask your child if they want stitches or not.

1. Be thankful he only cut his mouth.

Leave at 11:52.

The doctors were great. They even apologized for the long wait. Seriously I expected to wait that long. We didn't have a life threatening injury. He even said summer must have started early b/c he saw 4 lacerations since 7:30. Vance did pretty good getting the stitches in the inside of his lip. I was proud of him, b/c earlier I wanted to kill him for wanting me to stop at Gamestop on the way to the hospital with blood coming out of his mouth.

I'm sure this won't be the last injury this summer.

Bryce just came in to tattle that Vance is in the woods breaking glass bottles with a tennis racket. Great...
Saturday, August 1, 2009

PostHeaderIcon Name That Dog - 2009 Version

I'm not going to even apologize for the non-existant entries. After I discovered my free picture hosting site is out of business unless I want to update and actually have to PAY money for it, I had to find the time to look for another free space. So here we go....



Bluebell, aka "Bluebeast", is now 14 months old. She is still cute in an odd giant-like way. She attacks the boys' feet to tear off their flip flops, she still eats socks like they are candy, enjoys ripping a plant or wo out of their pots, and a beach towel can be shredded in under 30 minutes. Despite this, we love her. But the girl needs some BFF time.

Today we went back to the animal shelter in Camden to see how the beast would interact with a sweet looking dog we saw the night before. The usual sniffing ensued and we decided he was a keeper. Well, Bluebell has bossed the poor fellow around all day. Any time he moves... she moves, tries to eat...she eats his food, she takes the fetch toy away from him (it's not even her old toy or anything, I bought it today), doesn't play with it, but lays on it. The poor guy can't catch a break. But I must say I was impressed that she has not once barked at him all day. He has held his ground in the "love dance" to see who the new Alpha Dog is. I don't think he's going to win (he's 40 pounds lighter than her), but what man ever does?????


Now it all comes down to NAME THAT DOG - 2009. This is version 2 because last year we had the e-mail vote to see what Bluebell's name would be...and I won....

A little about our new addition...this fine looking fellow is of Camden pound decent (we think he may have some greyhound in him), 40+ pounds, approximately 9 months old. (I REALLY hope he is that or older b/c that would not be nice to find out he will be even bigger than Blue and that means lots of giant poop to shovel up). He enjoys people, kids, and for some reason we think he was an inside dog in his former life, probably because he goes to our side door and stares at it. He even handled getting shocked by the shock collar very nicely, the poor guy yakked on the grass. But he figured the set-up out quickly though!



Similar to last year's contest, several names have been pre-selected. Please choose one of the following names that were generated by the boys, myself and Rodney.

Lenny (don't ask)
or keep it what the shelter already named it...Dylan

Voting will cease at Monday 3pm. Sorry, I can't keep calling him "Here Boy" forever!
Please vote by leaving your chosen name in the comments section. You do not have to sign up for anything, just comment under "name" or anonymous.

Good luck, and may your dog name win!

Monday, December 22, 2008

PostHeaderIcon Dear Santa

Happy holidays, 4 months after I posted last. But, did you expect anything else based on my previous blog habits? I wanted to update you on all of the items Bluebell has destroyed since that last cute adorable little puppy pictures. The beast is now 71 pounds and 7 months old. She has eaten more than I can remember, with the latest being 5 outdoor seat cushions, 2 mini palm trees and 2 sets of outdoor Christmas lights while they were plugged in. I also had photos of the destruction, hey why not document it, maybe I can say a burglar did it and use it as proof for insurance. Again, I had photos but dear Rodney decided to take my camera to the Shrine Bowl and delete my photos of this and talking with Santa, etc...so he could take ones of football. Thanks..........

So in the holiday spirit, I have a request for Santa, because I so love everyone in the world and their thoughtful holiday actions.

Dear Santa,

I try to be a decent human being, really Santa I do, but I truly want you to rethink your gift idea for the wonderful person in the Belk parking lot last weekend. Santa, I tried to park way at the end of the aisles, yes, it was in the front, but it was the last aisle. No one was near me, I still had to walk a little bit. But Santa, when I got out of the store I didn't get the full surprise until I tried to get in my car and pull away. It didn't bother me that when I had returned to my car that there were now people parked all around me, nah.........It wasn't even the fact that if I had had my kids with me they would only have been able to get in one side of the car, nah.......... But holy reindeer, a big ole' P.O.'ed thanks to the moron who parked behind me and then took up a space and a half. A space and a half to where when I attempted to back up I couldn't because they have now ruined the physics of parking spaces where they are a tad off from the ones across from them so PEOPLE CAN BACK UP!!!!!! Santa I even made an idiot of myself and backed up as far as I could and got out of the car to see how much room I had, which was none. To make matters worse, this thoughtful driver had a handicap sign in their window.

Okay Santa, I know you're thinking I'm evil making a big deal out of this, especially since the person was handicapped, but hey Santa, I was about 2 minutes shy of walking back into Belk and asking them to page the little old lady in the walker who can't drive to please come move her car. I understand how some handicapped vehicles, especially vans, need to take up more than one space b/c other idiots then park right on top of them and they can't open their van doors for the lift to come down (I know this firsthand from my father-in-law who is in a wheelchair by the way). But Santa, not only did they take up more than 1 spot, but they also parked with a 1/3 of their car still out in the middle of the aisle. This was also not a car I would picture someone handicapped driving around. It was a huge brand new shiny Cadillac or Chrysller (sp?) or something like that.

Santa, I kept my cool in that car for 15 minutes waiting for someone besides me to come and leave so I could turn enough, or for the dear person in front of me to leave so I could pull forward. Finally the lady beside me came back and I could depart, but it ruined my shopping spirit and I only had time to grocery shop. I know Santa, petty little things in this big terrible world, but gee Santa, they really ticked me off.

Please give them a flat tire for Christmas, but not if the real handicapped person is in the car. I'm not that mean.

Oh yeah Santa, please ignore the 2 page letter from Bryce outlining the 20 Wii and DS games he wants for Christmas. Despite his assuring me that you don't pay anything for the toys, I on the other hand would have to shell out about $800 to buy all of his gaming needs.

One more thing, watch out for Bluebell, she might scratch up your sleigh by jumping on it like she did my car. Oh yes, you do see that she is wearing 2 shock collars that do not phase her in the least despite the fact they are both on the highest setting. It does shock me by the price the 2 shock collars cost. Bluebell, you are getting a nice new hunting shock collar for Christmas called "Stubborn Dog".


Wednesday, August 6, 2008

PostHeaderIcon Snake Wrangler

Another episode from the Elgin Wildlife Refuge....or at least that's what it seems like. Last week we had a wicked thunderstorm one evening, of course right at bedtime, so the boys ended up taking over my bed. Our next animal encounter was this howling Boxer scratching the hell out of the front door begging to get in away from the storm. Rodney wants to bring it INSIDE. Hello......we don't even let our dog in past the garage for more than 10 minutes, but sure, why not bring this scratching, whining mongrel in to tear up the house/bite/etc...? He said it had a collar. Anyway, it ended up running away at the next lightning flash.

That's pretty mellow compared to the newest creature....Mister Snake. This particular day was a nice and sunny afternoon, about 95 degrees and Rodney starts hollering about something near the woods. I think cooter?????? (See post below). This time it is a snake. I know Rodney is not fond of snakes and spiders for that matter. He claims it is huge, anaconda sized in length. I'm thinking a piddly little garden snake I used to run over with my bike as a kid.

Well, apparently the first thing Southerners do is try to shoot the snake. So out comes some type of pistol thing from next door. The second thing to do is light a giant bonfire and
smoke out/ignite the snake so it runs from its lair.

What is being torched is a bunch of brush and leftover wood at the edge of the woods. In the excitement of hunt, the gun is jammed up, doesn't load right and the bullet ROLLS BY THE FIRE! The kids are screaming from the deck to please let them help destroy the snake and Rodney is scrambling around trying to find a bullet before it blows up the woods or some one's head. Meanwhile brush fire continues to burn in the direction of the LAWN MOWER. So I get to have my first ride on the riding lawn mower as I start it and steer it away from the blaze.

Third step in killing snakes involves a large shovel. Since Rodney doesn't care for snakes, but he will kill it, I stand on the edge of the fuming pit and hurl javelin like sticks in the middle of the brush. This should stir up ole' snakey. Lo and behold he sprints out toward the only other shelter which is this little thrown together bridge we have. Needless to say Rodney tore it all apart in a matter of seconds and the shovel ends the life of poor snake. Well, sort of.....

Fourth step...drag snake out into the yard and everyone stare at it to see if it still moving due to it still being able to truly function or because of some "tic".

Finally...let kids "pet" the dead snake and hope it counts as extra credit for doing some summer science lessons. Of course this must be done shirtless.

***Please realize my kids aren't always barefoot and shirtless. In fact when we first moved in and had a hail storm with lightning and tornado warnings (at bedtime again of course), I got out of the closet and went upstairs to get clothes for the kids because I didn't want to be the Southern ones on TV. You know, the ones you see after a tornado tore apart the town and their kids are running around in their underwear in the background.

If you want to know when I update, I've included a link to put in your e-mail and it should notify you when I update.

Next week......Back to School- This should be good considering I went up to work today wearing my shirt inside out and with a big pink marker stain in the middle of it (without knowing of course)

About Me

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Tina S.
I am a transplant Yankee mom who moved down to South Cakalacky and married a true Southern boy. A few years ago we have moved to what I consider the "boonies" and now I live in my own private wildlife preserve, or at least it feels like it! The puppy you see is now a full grown beast. Enjoy our tales of livin' in the good ole' South.
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Source of the Sagas

Source of the Sagas
Vance and Bryce