Originally Posted by slumlord
Nana brings fried squash over here from across the holler.

I don’t want to hurt her feelings but nobody wants it. It goes straight into the trash can as she’s driving back.

Reminds me of fried snot


The dogs won’t even eat it.



Deers will, an if'n you tosses some leeves and scheidt over there with it, y'all can call it a composet pile and y'all kent be akused of baitin' them deers. Normall agrokultyer practises.

The desert is a true treasure for him who seeks refuge from men and the evil of men.
In it is contentment
In it is death and all you seek
(Quoted from "The Bleeding of the Stone" Ibrahim Al-Koni)

member of the cabal of dysfunctional squirrels?