I can't believe he passed up the chance to use the term "one-trick pony."

I was just complaining to my husband that our water tastes like lawn clippings. It was worse when we were on well water. That smelled and tasted like sulphur. So bad.

Heh. That's how my dad pronounces it. We're Canadian.

Yup. I live in Alberta and my barn friends do it. Every once in awhile you'll see a cowboy and his horse at one of those do it yourself car washes with the bays and the wands and the horse is getting washed down. It's totally against the rules, but nobody really cares.

Don't know; I'm Canadian. I know we don't mind :)

Oh, sorry! My friend and her husband live in Calgary. She left Wetburn to go to Uni.

Is he being groomed as Stewart's heir apparent?

That's just wrong.

I don't know if you saw my original response, but my friend, and her parents are from Weyburn, Saskatchewan. :)

I swear, one day she's going to go all Reaver on some busybody on Calgary Transit.

My friend is of Indian heritage, but her family goes back a few generations in Weyburn, Saskatchewan. She and her (very white) husband just had their first baby, who totally takes after Daddoo. Because my friend is so brown, she's had people out in public ask if she's the baby's nanny.

It's extra fun for me; I'm adopted, so I have NO clue. 'Where are you from?' "Ummmm. Vancouver." 'No! Before that!' "Errrrr. Social Services?"

Getting into a relationship with someone you've met in your 12-step program is what we like to call, "The 13th-step." (That's a consensual relationship. Or as consensual as it can be when an long-timer takes advantage of a newbie's insecurities and fears). Note: Not all 13th steppers are like that. Some are just…

And end him? Yes.

I love you

It's all just a big ol' popularity contest.

Most of my parenting decisions are based around the answer to one simple question: "Will he die?"

B.C. blackflies are about the size of baby dragons, so I see nothing wrong with this theory. They will take a chunk out of you when they bite.

In a complete case of, 'the cobbler's children have no shoes', I majored in Photojournalism. Swear to God, there's been years when I didn't take a single picture of that kid. Now he's a sullen teenager who hates me. Who wants recorded evidence of that?

I live in Alberta, Canada. Brooks wouldn't have the opportunity to get beaten up; his horse would kick him in the head first. Horses hate stupid, and they don't take crap. They're like four-legged bullshit detectors.