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Come and listen to a story about a ring named Q,
A poor fried food, destined for hungover chew,
Then one day Jen was looking at her plate,
And she saw through the crowd what must be fate.

A letter that is, the letter Q

 

 

Well the first thing you know old Q is our best friend,
Hung girls said, “We’ll keep you till the end!”
Said “San Diego┬áis the place you ought to be”
So they wrapped him in a napkin, and took him to the beach.

 

 

Sand, that is. Surfin’ fools, little dogs. (And crazy Lynn)

 

 

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I know, I know, you were expecting pictures of beaches, surfers and old friends. But I made a new friend there, and since I’m pining for his furry mug, this is what you get.

Also, I’m short on time and other posts I have in mind are going to take more of that.

So meet Newton. Love him. He’s 10 pounds of fun.

Or at least something like that … I’m hoping it will be at least 30 degrees warmer on the West Coast.

I’ve mowed my leg hairs for the first time since September, and I’m ready to show off my pasty whites.

I’m not planning to touch a computer until Tuesday night, but I’ll take lots of pictures. Can’t wait to see the ocean and spend time with my girls.