Tales From The ANAL Zone

Yeah, that right there should drive some blog traffic my way. Of course it will be the kind of blog traffic that will leave highly unsatisfied. Nothing like leading someone on to let them down. Call me a blogtease.

Tim and I were invited to meet Patrick, Lydia, Lacy and Pam for lunch at First Baptist Church. They do this amazingly good deal of a lunch every Thursday. For $4 you get salad, potatoe (ha), rolle (double hah!) and chickene (joke officially dead.) Sort of like the impending blogger meet-up for this evening, except no dancing on bars.

It was fantastic. Even though we all go to the same church and read each other's blogs daily (or whenver Lazy Lacy and Lydia decide to update theirs....) we have not all met. Until today. It was great...sort of like meeting a pen pal from Sweden except we understood everything each other was saying. And there was chickene (joke screaming in agony.)

So when do we get ANAL, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.



That is Tim's plate. After lunch. Ladies and gentlemen, I am married to the most anal man on the planet. After 17 years together, I am very used to this. Every meal whether at home, at someone else's house or in a restaurant ends with his plate looking like this. Granted, he put himself through high school and college washing dishes. Yet this was a paper plate. As in "disposable" and "doesn't need to be washed."

Lacy was so moved that she photographed the event for posterity.

I on the other hand am not anal, but I'm not posting the picture of my decidedly messy plate for two reasons. My boobs. Which are in the background. I know that if you came here looking for the sexing, my boobs would be a nice taste. But this is a family blog. (If your family is a little on the PG-13 side) And they're at the complete opposite end of the body from the anal stuff. So if you were looking for that, you'd not care about the boobs anyway.

I did find out who Connie Lane actually is, but now I have the unfortunate mental association between Pam and Depends. I know she now hates me forever. And I was so caught up in meeting her that I forgot to ask her like 90 questions which include

…Did she like Sorcery & Cecilia?
…Has she read Johnathan Strange & Mr. Norrell?
…Wouldn't she prefer Harry & Hermione?!?
…How exactly do you have to captivate bloggers from around the world to send you presents? This gratuitous use of the words 'anal' and 'boobs' are my first stab at that. Somehow I think I've failed miserably.