My husband, aka The Wretch, tells me that I have not fully thought through my decision to become a survivalist (see yesterday's post). He points out (rightfully so) that I do not like the great outdoors. I do not camp. I do not hunt. I do not fish. I do not, when answering a call of nature, like to use a tree and then leaves for that very important necessary "paperwork." He also pointed out that I am a stickler for good grammar and would be put off by a bumper sticker that is poorly written and punctuated.
I hate it when he's right.
I'm a city girl and proud of it. If God had wanted me to be a camper, I'm certain He would have made the entire thing a lot cleaner. However, I do like the IDEA of being a survivalist and to that end, I've decided to be my own kind of one.
I will wear a plaid shirt, but I'll carry a designer purse with it. (What designer best goes with the lumberjack look?)
I will have a bumper sticker, but I'll make certain that it has proper grammar.
I will probably not drive a big-ass truck as I'm afraid it will be too difficult to haul my own big ass into it, but I will put mud on the fenders of my Buick.
Gem for the day: before announcing your attention to become a survivalist, make sure you've thought it through. It's embarrassing to have to un-announce it.
I've read through your last several posts and I'm laughing, especially about you being a survivalist. I'm with Dad on this one. :)
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