Nothing, Nada, Nil, Goose Egg, Zip, Zilch, Zero

That's what I have to talk about. I have nothing exciting going on. No great news; no interesting stories; no trivia or annoying events. Nothing.

My plans for today: Well, I've already mowed the lawn, front and back. I've dead headed the petunias and cleaned the pool as well as filled it. I took the dogs for their walks (Bubba is now going on 2, 2-mile walks per day to shed some of his, ahem, weight.) I cleaned the house yesterday so I think I'll just end up working on some school work for my World History class until enough sun hits the deck so that I can work on my tan.

Ooh, I know one interesting thing: I have come to the conclusion that I cannot eat ribs. They don't agree with me. They upset my stomach. They give me the trots, diarrhea, Montezuma's revenge, the squirts, loose bowels, the runs, poop smoothies, runny boom booms, butt pudding...you get the idea. So, Sunday, I made ribs for the first time. I had a good BBQ recipe from Martha Stewart that I thought I'd try so I went to the grocery, bought my slabs of baby back ribs and came home to prepare them. They turned out awesome. They were really delicious and I had even taken an Imodium before dinner, anticipating possibilities. At around 11 PM, however, I had a strange gurgling in my belly and then suddenly, I sprang from the bed and, well, I'll leave the rest to your imagination. (Lisa, I know you've missed hearing about Diane's toilet adventures so I thought I'd give you "relief".)

Here's a rhyme:
When you've eaten some pork ribs and your butt now needs a bib...Diarrhea! Diarrhea!

Please, make up your own rhyme and put it in the comments.

Later