Buzzard Meat

I was lying in my parent's back yard today. And several thoughts occurred to me.
So I shall share them with you, in no particular order.
1. If I write letters to celebrities and don't mail them then the celebrities will never read them. If I write letters to celebrities and mail them the celebrities will probably never read them. It seems that I have embarked on a rather useless endeavor.
2. I wonder if the buzzards think I am food.
3. I'm lying on the blanket that my sister and I used to use for a bedspread when we shared a room and a bed. Those were interesting times. She's a kicker. (in more ways than one!)
4. Referring to said bedspread: I remember the time I plopped down on that bed and the entire bed frame cracked apart. Not good for the old self-esteem, that one.
5. My head hurts.
6. Our dachshund has a lot of very long black hair. How in the world does he lie out here in the sun? I'd be dang hot.
That's pretty much it.
Oh, but I will tell you one more thing.
I was in the grocery store today and stopped at the end of an aisle to check my list. And I heard a mooing sound.
It was coming from the refrigerated milk section. Yes, the entire wall of milk was mooing at me.
I must confess, I'm a little puzzled at the person who designed this device. "Ah, these people are too stupid for words! Just putting a picture of a cow on a carton will never be good enough! It needs something more!! I've got it! I'll make the entire wall MOO! No one will be able to miss that!!"
I might not be a genius, Mr. Moo-in-the-wall, but I think I had it figured out ok.