Best of the Blog Part 2 - The Frisky Sailor

The only thing this picture has to do with anything is that I found it in my 2006 folder. Also, I still have that sweater vest. I don't know why.

Original Post: Kenny Rogers is Not a Frisky Sailor, August 2006


A particular candidate for THE LIST has been concerned for the last week about whether or not he is on THE LIST. He's been wondering if he is the Cowboy or not. I won't confirm or deny, but really, I'm a little insulted that he thinks I would be that unoriginal in nicknaming him. But then again, I thought he didn't read this blog, so maybe I didn't have to be so original?

Either way, we had a funny conversation today. For the sake of this conversation, he will be Kenny Rogers and I will be Dolly Parton.

Kenny Rogers: I had a weird dream about you last night. Don't worry, I'm not going to go all pervy on you here.

Dolly Parton (in her head): Dang it. (outloud) Okay.

Kenny Rogers: I had this dream that I was in your blog. You had created another "guy" list and I was labeled as the "Frisky Sailor." Which was odd because I am neither a sailor, nor have I been frisky.

Dolly searches in her head for a plausible reason for this dream. There is none.
Dolly Parton: Do you have a cat that eats Friskies? A cat named Sailor that eats Friskies? Which would be a dumb name for a cat, because cats hate water.

Kenny Rogers: Nope. But I was thinking of you and your blog before I went to sleep.

Dolly in her head only: As you should...

(What Kenny couldn't see was that Dolly got excited by that response. Most girls, Dolly or not, would. Little does Kenny know how much girls like those kinds of comments.)

Kenny Rogers: So that is probably what caused my strange dreams.

Dolly in her head: Never tell a girl you were thinking about her and then call it "strange."
Dolly Parton outloud: So what did I say about the Frisky Sailor?

Kenny Rogers: then for some reason in my dream I had braces again

Dolly in her head again: Aw, how cute.

Dolly Parton outloud: Were they the kind of braces with pink rubber bands around them? Cause those are hot.

Kenny Rogers: I don't remember what the description was just the title

Dolly Parton: hmm... not my best writing then... I'll have to work on my dream writing

Kenny Rogers: And in my dream I was like, "oh great, now I'm a freaking frisky sailor"

Dolly Parton: Well, which is worse? frisky sailor or cowboy

Kenny Rogers: Next time I'll give you back your "dream draft" with the appropriate corrections. And frisky sailor is way worse

Dolly Parton: I'd appreciate that, thanks. (Dolly pauses briefly.) A lot of sailors get lucky at fleet week. (Another Dolly pause.) I think that is coming up again soon .

Kenny Rogers: Well you had better clear your schedule then

Dolly Parton: Cleared.



Who knew a blog could invoke such dreams in a young man?

Best of the Blog Part 1

For the next couple of days I am going to be insanely crazy busy, but in a good way. So rather than blog and whine about my insane crazy, or not blog at all as the case may be, I thought I'd resurrect some of my favorite blog posts from the past.

Blast From the Past Part 1- Making Family Fertilizer (also known as, "your family has rules about who can be buried in the cemetery??") Originally posted in August 2007!

So you think your family has issues? Allow me to introduce you to my family and our by-laws. Yes, my family has by-laws. Not just any bylaws. We have by-laws on how and who can be buried in the family cemetery. And according to the new rules, I am not eligible.

Let’s start at the beginning. And by beginning I mean 3 generations back when my great-great grandfather had five children and one mountain in Southern Virginia. Those five children went on to produce nearly 2,000 descendants, with over 1,600 currently living (no polygamy for us, thank you very much!), most of whom still live in Southern Virginia. And on that mountain there is a cemetery which is rapidly filling up with my gene pool.

While a family cemetery on the family mountain sounds quaint, there's a little problem. They only built a cemetery with space for another 355 people. But we have over 1,600 warm bodies waiting to get in, so a few rules were set. First, “double stacking” will now be implemented in the future. Double-stacking?Yes, it’s what it sounds like. Forget six feet under, we’re going ten feet under. We’re getting deep dirt for doubles. When you signed up to marry that person till “death do we part,” you are no longer getting a reprieve with death. You are will now be buried in the same spot, one on top of the other. This isn’t walking side-by-side through life (err death). This is a king-sized grave, tag-team resting place. An all you can eat worm buffet. Shared family footage. Tomb sharing. An eternal time share, if you will. The eternal double-decker bus. It’s not just kicking the bucket, it’s kicking the barrel. When it’s your turn to buy a pine condo, expect to sleep in the basement.

But even with double-stacking we’re still short on space for everyone to take a dirt nap. So we’re building a vault and encouraging cremation. Family members without a spouse to be their eternal sleeping partner are encouraged to consider cremation and be placed in the vault. The family that couldn’t let me forget I wasn’t married in this life now won’t let me forget it in death either. Can’t you just see it now? A whole shelf in the family vault dedicated to all the single cousins, maybe even in matching urns, taking up as little space as possible. I picture a shelf in the back with a marble plaque hanging over our urns, reading, “Did not find happiness in this life,” or maybe, “Did not return with honor,” or “Couldn’t find a date for the big dance so she’s here with her cousin.”

How will I explain that one when I finally meet my eternal companion in heaven? “Sorry, but I’m here with my cousin. We weren’t kissing cousins until after we died. Now I can’t shake the guy.”

(I have put in a request that I be placed in a lovely cement vase with daisies placed in it. If I’m going to be cremated and put on a shelf, I still want to push up daisies! Preferably next to Colette, Michelle and Mark. I think we could have fun raising a little hell together.)

Now let’s say that, sadly, a child dies. Will the child be doomed to eternal damnation on the Singles’ Shelf? Stuck on a shelf all alone? No. They may be buried in a triple-stacker arrangement with their parents. (If you are suddenly and inexplicably craving Wendy’s, you are not alone. Just sick in the head.)

Even with all of these arrangements there are still a few more rules you must comply with for a place in the Ferguson Family Bus to St. Peter’s. All of the obvious rules- such as your headstone must be made out of one of the approved types of stone. Graves will be assigned by the Family Trustees, because apparently we have Family Trustees. No reservations or dibs may be called in advance. And last but not least, you have to be current on your family dues. Yes, family dues. Apparently birthright and bloodline just isn’t good enough around here. Now you have to pay to be in my family. I haven’t paid my dues.Ever.

I guess I will just have to find myself a new family. Preferably one with plenty of space left in the gene garden.

**For the record, and as mentioned before, this post was written almost 4 years ago. A few things have changed in the bylaws since then, but not much. Still no vault for the singles yet either!