I'm leaving the old intro here, but adding this- it appears the doves have taken over my blog for their fiction. Just as well, I was doing a piss poor job of updating. They're doing much better.

This blog is infrequently updated, full of incorrect spellings, misused words, and general bad grammar. It started when I was trying to use google+ (which I've since given up on) and discovered there was no character limit for posts. If you've known me a long time, a lot of these stories will be old hat. If you plan to know me for a long time, you'll no doubt hear many of them in person. But, folks seemed to enjoy them, so here they are.

Friday, December 2, 2011

The thirty first story

Today: A story from when my parents were dating- this one has been independently verified by both parties, and they're very differently styled storytellers, so I believe that this story is true in all its details.
My Dad is Jewish. My Mom is... not. Who knows what she is- she was raised some branch of protestant, and believes in santa claus, but not in god. Regardless, she loves Christmas. For a long time during their courtship, my Dad worked for the army and lived in a shack in the Arizona desert. Mom wasn't a desert person, but she would visit regularly. One of these times she arrived very very late on christmas eve. Dad didn't have a tree. Mom was upset. I get different ideas of how upset from each of them- Dad says she was reasonable, she says she was not. Regardless, the end result was Dad, breaking into the base to steal a christmas tree from the lot, tossing it back out over the barbed wire topped fence.

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