I'll feed you, baby birds.

You may be asking yourself, "Shea, why did you decide to start a blog?" And to that, I say, "Good question! I'm glad you asked!" I wanted to do this as a web-journal, but mostly because I'm pretty self-centered and like to hear myself talk (or type...whatever). I occasionally think I'm witty and have interesting things to say, but we will see, in time, how "witty" I actually am. I may just be blowing smoke. Ask any of my ex boyfriends. They know all about this. I used to write them long winded letters. Could be why they are, indeed "ex's." Also, my essay skills are on point. Not saying I would write an essay for you for your honors English class....but I totally would. Just don't tell your mom. Then I would just have an angry parent on my hands, and who wants that? No one. But if I saved your English grade, and she would like to be eternally grateful to me, well who am I to refuse a woman her gratitude? That would be irresponsible of me.

Now where was I? Oh yes. Now if you did not ask that particular question, then I would be happy to answer another one. Yeah, you, with the face. No, the other one. Green shirt. Yes, you. What's your question, sir? You want to know if I like animals? Now what kind of dumb question is that?! Of course I like animals. Who doesn't? Not so much snakes or weird stuff like that, but normal animals like dogs, horses, and rabbits. I personally have 3 dogs, and they are just the most hilarious things ever; Rocky, Gypsy, and Kansas. I am one of those people whose baby-talk is reserved specifically for animals. I even talk to 9 month old babies like adults. This is not a joke. I don't want a kid growing up and talking like an idiot because I couldn't speak normally to it. Animals, on the other hand, will never speak, so who cares? I'll baby talk the crap outta them. No side effects to worry about.  Plus, let's be honest here, animals are cuter. Don't give me that look. You know they are.

I have a feeling I already lost all my followers, so just to clarify, no I don't think babies are ugly.

You didn't expect this post to go in this direction, did you. Yeah, I'm surprised too, but we will just let this go where it will.  High brow stuff, ladies and gentlemen. No rules!! Except maybe no swearing, or fighting, and don't litter. Okay, three rules, but other than that, no rules!!

Now if you weren't asking either of those questions, I'm sorry. Leave a comment, and I will answer to the best of my ability.

So I believe in my last post, I promised an embarrassing story. Well, I am all about keeping my promises, and I am about to come through for you.
Once upon a time, there was a young girl. Let's call her...May. May was swimming at her grandmother's house with her brothers and cousins. They were having a jolly good time splashing around and doing whatever it is that kids do in water. A little while later, some of her family shows up that May had never met before. One of them was a kid named Patrick. He was about the same age as May; 10 or 11.  They all became fast friends. May's brother decided that they should all have a "raft surfing" competition. What is that, you ask? Surfing...on rafts. Pretty self-explanatory. They had to get out of the water, run, jump onto the raft, and try to stay up the longest. On one go, May was about to take the leap, when she heard giggling behind her. The giggling turned into full blown laughter. She turns to see what the commotion is. They start pointing to her backside. Confused, May looked at her rear, and right down the center of her swim suit bottoms, was a large hole. Third cousin Patrick's face was bright red, and May's brother loudly shouted, "It looks like the moon!" Laughter ensued. May ran home, and wouldn't leave the house ever again-or until Patrick left. To this day, May can't speak to third cousin Patrick. Her shame is too great.

You may now be asking yourself, "Hmm...May and Shea sound very similar..." And to that, I say, "Yeah?! So?? Mind your own business!!"

Until next time...
Fin. (that's French for "end")

-Blank You Very Much