Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Guest Blog

Here is your weekly dose of humor from my friend Tracy Farr. Enjoy.....


The Beckster

I betcha you’ll never guess where I am right now as I’m writing this. Go ahead, give it a shot. You’ll never guess. Not in a million years. Giving up so soon? Gosh, you didn’t even try. Okay I’ll tell you. I’m in downtown Ft. Worth, sitting in the Ft. Worth Convention Center watching the 2009 Marching Auxiliaries National Dance Championships.

That’s right – DANCE! And I’ve been here since 6 a.m. By the time I get home to edit all this, I will have spent 14 hours in a perfectly-good arena and not seen one hockey game.

Fourteen hours of nonstop estrogen-induced bust-a-move dance performed by little girls wearing a whole lot of practically nothing. No Red-Blooded American “Old Guy” should EVER be caught in a place like this when he could be out on the lake or watching NASCAR! But my little girl, Becky, is on one of the dance teams and that’s what makes it okay – so they say.

Becky is 11 and in 5th grade. Her full name is Rebecca Michelle, but we call her Becky. Sometimes we call her The Beckster, other times Beck, Becca, BeckBeck, Booster, Bebop, and for some odd reason, Parker. (Don’t ask me why because I don’t know.)

Beckster has been dancing for eight years, but she’s not your typical “dancer girl.” She likes to ride on my motorcycle. She’s the only one in my family who has had the nerve to go flying with me. She doesn’t mind watching me skin a squirrel. And she can belch better than you and me put together. Yep, she’s gonna make a good catch for some guy out there. But not just ANY guy. In fact, let’s just forget about guys for now. I’m sorry I even brought up the subject.

ATTENTION ALL GUYS: Yes, my Beckster can bust a move on the dance floor, throwing her hips around in such a way you’d bet money they were about to fly off, hit someone in the head, and give them a concussion – but, that does NOT mean she’s interested in YOU!

In fact, if you even THINK about coming over to my house to pick up my little girl, you better know something in advance – I have weapons. They’re loaded, and I know how to point and click! So, it might be best for you to go and pick on some other daddy’s little girl. I cannot be held responsible for what might happen if you don’t.

Just remember – goats eat everything.
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The Daily Spittoon - – Not as good as a nap, but close.

2 comments:

Morgan Mandel said...

I don't have any children to worry about, but my dog gives me my share of worries.


Morgan Mandel
http://morganmandel.blogspot.com

Maryann Miller said...

Actually, dogs and cats can be more of a worry than kids. More of a bother sometimes, too. Our three cats and two dogs like to see how many times they can make us get up to let them in or out of an evening. Hubby said he should have been a doorman. :-)