Wild horses couldn't drag me away (from my love of horses. And this mint julep.)

True story: right now my husband is grinding ice for mint juleps.

This is it. Woodford Reserve, ice chips, garden mint, sugar. 

...which I think is the second best thing about the Kentucky Derby. The best best thing about the Kentucky Derby, of course, is the horses. I just love 'em. I love animals so much that once at the Boone County Fair in Iowa, my mother in law thought I had never ever been around animals in my life. Apparently my reaction to adorable swine could be described by Iowans, who don't get excited about animals, as "ga ga." (That is Iowan for "nutso.") 

And the thing is, I have been around animals. Lots of them. I grew up with cats and dogs, and one of my fondest animal memories involving being court-required to visit my father was when his big chestnut quarter horse bit my evil stepmother. (Way to go, Cecil! Who knew horses could read 12 year old girls' minds?!) 

That's right. I am amazing. Give me all your apples. 

Anyway, every year we drink juleps on Derby Day. But I do not watch the derby. There was Barbaro, who I cried my eyes out for, and then there was Eight Belles, for whom I also cried my eyes out and then wrote a poem. And then I decided it would be best to never watch a Kentucky Derby ever again in my life. 

But despite all that, even I couldn't help but be impressed by Churchill Downs. 

Whaddya say we go and watch a train wreck at Churchill Downs? Sounds good to me!

Why everyone should be more like Kentuckians.

Welcome to Kentucky Week! (aka "Get Your Bourb On Week!") here at K&G! Let's start with a joke!

Q: How many Kentuckians does it take to change a lightbulb?

A: None. You gotta have electricity first.


It's easy to make fun of Kentucky. But I just got back from a weekend in Bluegrass Bourbonland and man oh man is it easy to love. You think I'm being ironic here, don't you? Well, friends, I gotta tell you I am completely sincere about this. You might say I'm as sincere as Neil Diamond's "Kentucky Woman."  

You may have already heard about some of the things that are cool about KY, like: 

Bourbon & moonshinin'.

Horses (I'm seriously anti-horse-racing, but the horses themselves, and the history of horse-farming dazzles me. Here's an article about  how KY got to be so horsey.)

KY played a fascinating role in the civil war. 

Birthplace of your homeboy Abe Lincoln.

The blueness of the grass.

The plucky, happy goodness of bluegrass music.


All pure gold. But here's the one cool thing that I was totally unprepared for, and still can't quite get over: the niceness of Kentuckians. I've lived in five states and visited lots more and I don't think I've ever encountered such pleasant people. I mean, holy crap are Kentuckians nice!  Here's what I mean:

*Drivers let us in in traffic. No one almost killed us with their cars. Not even almost once. And we were driving a lot.

*I held the door for someone. She didn't say "thanks." She said, emphatically, "thank you very much." 

*Some men were jump starting someone else's dead car by the sidewalk. When we walked by, they said "Hello."

*The campground people gave us a garbage bag and drove us to our site, after waiting up for us to arrive. I know a garbage bag isn't that exciting, but still, they gave it to us. And they were really friendly. And they didn't have to do, or be, either.

*The lady at the Subway called me "baby" and was so glad to be making my deluxe Subway salad. I have never seen anyone so happy to be making my salad.

*The dude at the Dairy Queen (don't judge!) said "Howdy" with the same enthusiasm you'd give "It's a girl!" or "That rash has finally and magically disappeared overnight!" He could not wait to add cheese to our breakfast biscuits. Adding cheese to our breakfast biscuits was the best idea he had ever heard. I have never seen anyone so happy to take my breakfast biscuit (with cheese!) order.

*The lady at the Mapco gas station chit-chatted with me about how horrible breast cancer is. It wasn't weird the way it might sound like it could have been. It was totally natural. And, guess what,  friendly. And when I paid for my Advil and a breast cancer awareness pin she called me "honey" and wished me well.


I've never heard anyone talk about how nice Kentuckians are, but I'm telling you, they're nice. Like, super duper "Am I hallucinating?" NICE. 

So, I guess I think more people should be like Kentuckians. Or, maybe more states (and/or commonwealths) should require that the municipal water supply be laced with bourbon.

Happy Monday, everybody!

Here's a tip: It's best for everyone if, while in your shared office, you do not sneeze violently... with a mouthful of greek yogurt.

You're welcome.

But I DO want to see any more balloons!

First, you should watch this. It's required.





Now, think long and hard about your answer. Take your time. This one's a real doozy.

Help me decide! The best part of this whole thing is...
	The words "BALLOONSBALLOONSBALLOONS" coming at you to the tense Lifetime Original Movie piano music.
	Oh no, dont go back there--thats worse!
	Our hero Gary Coxe's crustache.
	The Rebel: I'm not gonna eat any mustard!
	Um, EVERYTHING. Mainly, the way I have never felt more normaller in all my life than I do right now.
pollcode.com free polls

Brilliant theory. Well, the only one that makes sense.

I don’t know about you, but Lady Gaga’s ribeye panties or whatever don’t really shock or confuse me.

But I see these things and I just can’t stand it. I mean, I get this strong gut reaction just looking at them—it’s a combination of amusement and shame that I’ve just exposed my innocent retinas to such a sight. What did they do to deserve having to process these things? Nothing. 

Harem scare 'em 

Harem pants. I mean, really y'all. Really. (By the way, does anyone else immediately think "nutcase" when they think "harem"?)

Your great grandpa's saggy 88 year old butt looks better than this. By, like, a lot. 

I have no idea why anyone would purposefully dress themselves like this. But here’s a theory: 

You know that I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant show? You know, the one on Discovery Health or TLC or whatever where women go nine months without realizing there’s another person living inside of them, and than one day they go to the bathroom and “poop a baby”? Or they’re playing Wii bowling and the next thing they know a baby “falls” out of their vagina and onto their shoe?

...Could it be that this show has become so popular that many women are now thinking it's possible that they could be one of these IDKIWP cases and that it's possible an unforseen baby could drop out from between their legs at any given moment?

See, I think that’s exactly what’s going on here. I think these women are just being prepared. The harem pant: the crotch-hammock you wear in case you accidentally give surprise birth.

It's what's for breakfast!

For the first time in my life, I've got a Happy Gilmore earworm. (Remember when Adam Sandler was hilarious, by the way?) Here's what was waiting for me in my brain when I woke up today:

Shooter McGavin: You're in big trouble though, pal. I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast!

Happy Gilmore: [laughing] You eat pieces of shit for breakfast?

The end.

Not a poetry blog

It's important to me that this blog not turn into a "poetry blog." Because, even though I write and read and love poetry dearly, I think it's important to recognize that there are other things in life (like cat yodeling). Plus, there are enough poetry blogs out there, and you don't really want to hear all my blah-blahs about the po-biz. (And frankly, if I think about the current state of American poetry too much, I might sink like Artax in the Swamp of Sadness.)

But every now and then some journal slips up and publishes my work! And that's some Not Sad News I like to share!

There are so many great literary journals out there that it's at once great and mind-blowing. What I like about The Literary Bohemian is the intricate and gorgeous layout that's still easy to navigate and read. And the author travel bio is way more fascinating than the ho-hum "professional author bio." Plus, (cue ABBA), they took a chance on me!