My dad used to take all of us in the family and go duck hunting. Ok, if you’ve never tried to shoot a duck, you don’t know how fast those darned things are and I never actually hit one that I know of, although during my teen years I fired a lot of 410 shotgun ammo at them from my little double-barrel jobber. For me, it was more about the campfires, dark nights, sleeping bags and cold mornings.

I don’t think ducks fly very high, not like eagles or hawks, so it’s not likely that a duck should be all that high, but I’m feeling like a duck that was flying way too high and got shot down. I suppose The Black & White Ball was the perfect end to the events of April. I was feeling wonderful and the safe thing would have been for me to land at my pond and just waddle around saying, “Aflac” (aren’t his feet cute!) for awhile. hehe.

But I’m not like that and there were enough shooters that put just the right amount of buckshot in my rear to bring me down. (/me sighs) I admire people who have really steady dispositions, like Lele, but even she gets hurt sometimes. Hugzzz, LeLe! Maybe I shouldn’t be so sassy? Maybe I shouldn’t be so misbehaved? Maybe I should behave like my mom told me to? (Like she was any different than me! Geez)

Maybe I should have stayed in bed on Monday morning again? Also, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.

Who knows?! All I know is that my tail is full of lead pellets and thank gawd, the weekend is almost here. Maybe I can sit (erm, lay) around Dina’s Motel and try to pick those pellets out of my fanny? Maybe a friend will take some tweezers and pick them out for me? EEEWWWEEE! (No thanks, Iron or the rest of you guys forming a line.) hehe. Maybe I should just go back to bed.