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Fantastic word game

Future posts of mine will tell you, and all of our distinguished Fantastic Word Gamers, all about the story of Rusty, one of the South's most ornery cocks.

Can't use the singular version of the word, but by golly, plural sure works fine.
 
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'One of the South's most ornery cocks' is certainly a clue that I would have never ever ever ever expected to see here in our little family interweb game.

I am SHOCKED, I tell you! SHOCKED! HORRIFIED! FLABBERGASTED! MORTIFIED!
It's a very good thing there are no band campers present today, on Patriot's Day, here in Massachusetts. I'd have to cover their eyes. Miss Silkie, don't let the interns into the game until we turn the page.
 
Our little family interweb game, with the friendly portion omitted by the Game Czar and not me, seems to have become as raw as a slab of ribs yanked straight out of the freshly killed pig.

As long as Silkie has gone and taken the little band campers out for a hike until the page turn. This sudden dark streak from the land of roses hasn't ruffled up Rusty's feathers yet, but Connie is certainly giving me one hell of a puzzled look.
 
The freshly killed pig has a good story, a true story, that goes along with said pig, but we'll leave off with this one.

 
It tastes similar to chicken, so most folks probably wouldn't even realize that it's a squirrel plated and served in front of them, unless I let them in on my little culinary secret.
 
A little more money was recently spent from The Ranch's rainy day fund to purchase an automatic pump to help expedite Connie's milking process.

Likely has something to do with those crusty udders. I'll investigate further, and let y'all know.
 
Connie's milking process, rushed along by machine when the poor old gal wasn't treated well and cleaned in the first place, and then machine forced probably isn't exactly soothing on the poor cow.
 
The poor cow that mistakenly wandered in the door of the New Illusions (one otherwise typical Saturday night) saw what she believed to be the bull of her dreams, only to find out that he only performs when quarters are shoved into his slot.

Tears welled in her eyes as she quickly made her exit, never to set foot in there again.
 
He only performs when quarters are shoved into his slot is true of the mechanical rooster as well, but to get him to work, you've got to get to the New Illusions by the crack of dawn.
 
The crack of dawn is about when we finish cleaning up after the 80s Rockfest before heading next door for some eggs, hash browns, and biscuits and gravy.

Yummmmmmmy!!!
 
At the local Cracker Barrel I hear tell they sell country style, mass-produced merchandise for customers, but I have never been to one, so I really couldn't tell you, though it is not a matter of national security or any of that, I just don't know.
 
Know that whenever you make a grammatical error, the Director of Linguistics will call you out so that you will never make that mistake again.

I believe I still have three demerits on my account. They will probably expire before I get them rescinded.
 
You will never make that mistake again because to have yourself and your error called out in front of everyone is something you will never forget.

Demerits do not expire. They are there for life.
 


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