Oh yeah we gonna sta

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Since you asked:


For reasons only known to the Vodka soaked synapses that are firing randomly in my brain, I’ve taken lately to calling my sweet seven-year-old daughter, Ann Caroline, Gertie Winkerstine. It’s probably the same thing that makes me call my dogs Kasey, Beatrice Bittyboops and Wrigley, Mister Dudley B. Mugwumpers. (Have you puked yet?)


Anyway, since you asked, Ann Caroline wrote a poem based on a Christmas skit her class did about a Rapping Reindeer. She was proud of her poem when she finished so she showed it to me. The problem? Miss Gertie Winkerstine had written a poem about the Raping Reindeer. (I knew that Blitzen was trouble but I had no idea)


When I told her it was good but she needed another P, she looked at me funny and said;


“But, I don’t have to go to the bathroom.”


Badaboom, thank you, Miss Gertie Winkerstine will be here all week. Tip your waitresses.