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Fantastic word game

Injury timeout from the game, 'cuz the ol' hayseed's done gone n' pulled a groin muscle runnin' back here after hearin' other voices bee-sides the ones rep-ree-sentin' the lands of milk and syrup.

A howdy n' a mornin' to the Land o' Lincoln n' the Mayflowers. WMC, I am plumb mystified that you took the rarely-seen, hardly witnessed, day away from the world of Fantastic Words. I reckon I was a gonna employ the bloodhounds if'n you hadn't poked yer head back up from the mayflower fields by gate time tonight. Y'all don't just sit at home, now. Don yer fav-o-rite pair o' blue britches n' a button-up n' come cut a country-styled rug.

We'll see you there. The Chickadee appearance is subject to change. Still try'na dot the i's n' cross them thar t's on that. The Lodge (Boudoir, as I pre-fer) sure can be difficult to negotiate with sum times, y'know.
 
The lands of milk and syrup are getting white all over again as we are again receiving several inches of snow which means I'll be outside later attempting to clear it all away from the sidewalks and driveway before I head down to the new Illusions.
 
Before I head down to the new Illusions, someone will have to plow out the parking lot first.

Ummmm, rose ... Charlize (Charlise, as you incorrectly prefer) flew the coop to escape the wholesale liquidation of my livestock back around the time your hen and heifer were meeting their maker. Remember? She hasn't been spotted around here since then, and Manfred and Lord Vennyson are stuck in some freezer somewhere, perhaps in steamy, sweltering Florida.
 
First off, my con-dolences fer the loss o' yer chickadee friend, n' secondly if'n she ain't available fer booth duties, then I reckon ol' Ginger will hafta step up n' fill the void.

I do ree-member it now, compadre. The alcohol tends to flush away sum o' the short term memories.
 
Fill the void of actual patrons, if people are late-arriving due to the storm, with life size cutouts of people just like major league baseball stadiums did during the Covid era.

We did that once, maybe twice, for an 80s Rockfest back in 2020. There might be some cutouts stored in the basement unless the staff just took those things home after the fact. First one in can check once the parking lot is cleared.
 
During the Covid era (COVID, as 9 outta 10 healthcare pro-fesshunals pre-fer), I had more time to get acquainted with my Yeti cooler durin' the day, ree-sultin' in me misremembering a good portion of the event.

Oh, the times Connie n' I had durin' that spell er two o' lucidity, though. Just her n' I. Gazin' down the long, windin', but suddenly empty, dirt road that leads up to the rustic front gate.
 
Falsehoods, lies, and exaggerations are...kinda...the foundation on which the RCM Ranch and the PowerWorld LLC. both stand.

I mean, if'n we're gonna be all on the up n' up 'bout it.

Standin' by to pass out any necessary umbrellas, just in case. ☔
 
The RCM Ranch and the PowerWorld LLC. both stand on their own with each of them having their own unique qualities.

Double ellipses. Brain hurting. Fire up those umbrellas. Cleanup starting in 5, 4, 3. Never mind. Hope no one got hurt.
 
Fruit Loops, Frosted Flakes, and Frosted Mini Wheats have been around for a long time, as WMC has written, but apparently several decades of seeing their boxes in the cereal aisle hasn't taught the ex-Game Czar that the proper name of that first product is intentionally misspelled.

Froot Loops. Three sweet, but slightly soggy, demerits headed your way, along with some discolored milk from the bowl.
 
Unacceptable that I didn't know that about Froot Loops probably because I never actually ate them but it was one of the first cereal names to come to me so go figure.

Your ex-Game Czar is hanging his head in shame. He did enjoy a few bowls of Frosted Mini Wheats, though.
 
Figure out the diff'ernce, if'n you'd like, but fer breakfast at The Ranch it's either Frosted Flakes, Malt-o-Meal, er just simply a couple of cold ones.

I think I'll go with the latter, this here Sunday mornin', n' a mighty fine Sunday mornin' to each o' you. Boy, what an 80's Country Swing n' Western Fest it was!

Hey, by the way. Did anyone ever get the poor ol' Padre pulled outta the orchestra pit? I tried to tell him to pace himself with that thar spiritual cup he was totin' 'round the dance floor. I reckon he shoulda just stuck with wine.
 
A couple of cold ones, and then a couple more cold ones, led rosecity to miss the actual ending clue of 'go figure'.

So we'll do it all over again. :cool:
 
The one everybody overlooked was Seattle throttling New England although New England just finally scored in the 4th quarter.

Seattle leads 19-7.
 


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