What a Pot Head

 

       Well... we finally meet again...you and me! Isn't it so sweet that we can meet in secret,

 no one knows you're here viewing.

What a world... when we can go everywhere and anywhere without moving at all!

Unfortunately, you being here is not the point... without me typing

neither one of us would be here at all.

Okay...so I went off the subject maybe it's due to the pot in the title...don't you wish...

well you're wrong if that's where your mind went!

Not that when I was much younger, Woodstock plus me,

well, that's another story!

 

 

 

 

The real story is in the photograph above...yes, the black flower pot and the pot pie. What do they have in common? One girl who has slipped another stitch and a dinner?

Tonight I was busy and thought..okay..a pot pie will do, turn on oven, open one pot pie, add to oven and what do you get?

 Dinner!

Ah, Not...with this gal...

See normally when cooking a chicken pot pie the house smells all nice and wonderful.

Just like good old home cooking. Boy, we've come along way with frozen dinners. Trust me, Woodstock plus me was better than a pot pie back then...

 

 

Needless to say, as dinner progressed I began to smell something really strange that this girl didn't recognize. This sent my nose on a mission...sniffing everything I could...was it in the air, was it me, was it the cat, the litter, were the heck was it coming from??

In my search I don't know what compelled me to finally open the oven..but I did.

 

Bending over to look, first I farted...not good I suppose by an oven...as you can tell nothing happened as I am here writing. I know, I'm a girl...but...lord knows... I love a good fart! LOL!

And that one was an at a boy/girl...whatever.

 

So I bend back down again to peek in the oven... there it was in all it's lovely glory.

My black flower pot smoking off a fume not near as delightful as the ones at Woodstock. Yes, I was cooking a Flower Pot...Pot Pie. By now you're probably wondering what a Flower Pot was doing in the oven?

Well, I was wondering something of the same the next morning after Woodstock.

How the heck did that happen??

I only leave with this....if you can guess the answer to both questions,

you're doing much better than me.

 

Moral of the story...one cooked pot pie with one black flower pot, does not equal as much fun as Woodstock! And no...I didn't eat the pot pie :0(

 

 

Thanks for stopping by... you sneaky little you....and don't forget the giveaway

still going on in the last post.