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Mean Rooster, pacing the fenceline of his domain.
(He doesn’t have anything else to do. He’s already slain all the dragons and made all the damsels cry.)
Posted by Suzanne McMinn on October 20, 2009Registration is required to leave a comment on this site. You may register here. (You can use this same username on the forum as well.) Already registered? Login here.
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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Where have you been? Noticed you were noticibly missing from the big farm party pics. lol Weren’t you invited? Had you been a bad boy again? Had you threatened to terroize the little ones? I bet you got yourself locked in the shed..lol..or did the threat of one blogger making “rooster stew” scare those “Sweet Cheeks” to a hideout in the woods hideing behind the little banty hen skirts? huh! lol
PS..Yes it’s me, talking to you…lest you forget…you know I got your incarnate number! Spur scars on my belly to prove it…I’ll never forget grandmas chase around the barn!
B.Ruth
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http://www.freewebs.com/cajunyankee/spurs.htm#
Apparently, you can also grind them down with a dremel.
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