tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30124203314590615822024-03-14T02:41:55.213-07:00Goofy and Great Stuff I LikeDiana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-14389104907158702312012-06-18T13:33:00.000-07:002012-06-18T13:33:01.073-07:00I Love My Vet, Dr. Mark Bell<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8jpVIBrWyB_uBLojl_Ci_7qyg0gmIHAw_6Fh579d7hD7Y0yGK1Nt9HH9LPZ6TRKImSOr_9lkCsbs9hud3y6wMlVVIzU57iTCHHocRw5sbWCKHAK4pBHXU-sMXP6x6USeQf4W0wyfmb2_/s1600/theo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; height: 207px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; width: 255px;"><img border="0" height="240" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ8jpVIBrWyB_uBLojl_Ci_7qyg0gmIHAw_6Fh579d7hD7Y0yGK1Nt9HH9LPZ6TRKImSOr_9lkCsbs9hud3y6wMlVVIzU57iTCHHocRw5sbWCKHAK4pBHXU-sMXP6x6USeQf4W0wyfmb2_/s320/theo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I love my vet, Dr. Mark Bell. He understands my big, fat, hairy dog, Theo. And more importantly, he understands me.<br />
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And now, I love him even more (ok, he's pretty handsome too and that helps) because he has a pill I can give Theo every month and it kills all his fleas in less than 48 hours. Theo is a big dog, over 100 pounds, and he's half Chow, so he has a ridiculous thick red coat. His fur is so thick I can't actually get his skin wet when I wash him with a garden hose. <br />
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But this pill, which only costs 17 dollars per month does the trick. Apparently it makes Theo toxic to fleas cause they give up the ghost almost instantly. <br />
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I am a notoriously bad bet owner. I feed and love them but that's about it because we live in the country and have four children.. When we leave town for a day we just put Theo out with food and water on the porch. Dr. Bell doesn't judge me or make me feel bad for not getting Theo professionally groomed or sent to a doggie spa. But we really really love Theo. So much in fact, my son Jack got a tattoo of him (not his own mom). Weird, right?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgedu54nm5UXYpfBeTgTk0y6ZJWx3_rhpXl_Iye9UlIcvRFW2MpiKhBsP6plPZxGpkWBSaQLetFW6VgpX3wedS5xf4LO-uC72ynAQu0twZNbUV08xkh92YMRHakfygA9QLACGr6kDQm9iyF/s1600/theo+tat.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgedu54nm5UXYpfBeTgTk0y6ZJWx3_rhpXl_Iye9UlIcvRFW2MpiKhBsP6plPZxGpkWBSaQLetFW6VgpX3wedS5xf4LO-uC72ynAQu0twZNbUV08xkh92YMRHakfygA9QLACGr6kDQm9iyF/s1600/theo+tat.bmp" /></a></div><br />
But when we do have a problem, damn it, Dr. Bell s always got time to squeeze us in and take care of my boy. And he doesn't look at me funny when I sit down on the cold tile floor to keep Theo company. He just sits right down next to us.<br />
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If you need a vet and live in Hot Springs, he's your man...and Theo's too.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-3862347453934812942012-02-27T13:57:00.000-08:002012-02-27T13:57:15.789-08:00Hot Springs...Our Worthless Priceless Mountains<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4SptjJfQ3wdz4Zq80jqR0FCCxyuJeIxz3stlqLXREFznKkAvYWUhpjcUShD50PGbjezxUKPBl-v4h1MO1WCdsLyrS_fWHGKDA0Qj0nBOtvxs3RvU4WRhg07fXvu42JAo-6R3yKKVNivT/s1600/ouachita.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr4SptjJfQ3wdz4Zq80jqR0FCCxyuJeIxz3stlqLXREFznKkAvYWUhpjcUShD50PGbjezxUKPBl-v4h1MO1WCdsLyrS_fWHGKDA0Qj0nBOtvxs3RvU4WRhg07fXvu42JAo-6R3yKKVNivT/s1600/ouachita.jpg" uda="true" /></a>Thank You Lord, oil, diamonds, coal and gas have never been found in our lovely little camel hump mountains. Hot Springs, Arkansas has beautiful little mountains, they are tiny compared to other mountain rangers, made only of dirt and rock, covered with trees and of course there's some super special hot water lowing through them. That's it. Nothing to go after, nothing that will make a man rich, nothing worth destroying a mountain for. Thank you Lord. Because out mountains are so magnificent and if some precious stone or resource was discovered in the heart of these Zig Zag mountains they would be eaten up by bull doziers and blasting caps. Ahhh but no worries for us. Our splendid little mountains remain and we get to look, hike and meander.We have mountains that are nearly worthless but absolutely priceless.</div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-90104304403559462842012-02-16T08:34:00.000-08:002012-02-16T08:34:31.164-08:00BBQ In Hot Springs, ArkansasHot Springs has some of the greatest BBQ on the planet. We are so blessed by the God of Ribs. And most of out bbq joints have been here for years and years. My personal favorites are Stubby's, on central across from Oaklawn and Mickey's and funky little place on Highway 5, next to the National Park.<br />
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Hot Springs is most famous for McClards and I love going there but I I like thick brown sweet and spicy sauce. That's just how I was raised.<br />
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So, Stubby's has Chris the owner, whom I adore and amazing meat. Go for the ribs or chicken. Mickey's has the best chopped beef and pork sandwiches and I can't stop eating their damn beans.<br />
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BBQ, I think, is one of the foods that helps fight depression. So go get you a big plate with lots of sauce and start smiling.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-19115880047288984592011-10-19T08:08:00.000-07:002011-10-19T08:08:52.381-07:00Happy PeopleI'm reading David Niven's PH.D. <u>The 100 Simple Secrets of Happy People.</u> Not bad. So, number one...we are all here for a purpose. We are supposed to get good things done. There's a reason we were born and our lives make a difference. Guess I better get to it.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-77679185824911152462011-10-15T20:22:00.001-07:002011-10-15T20:22:59.823-07:00Guys...arrrI think the guys in the house should have to clean the toilet. Inside and out because girls rarely miss.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-10571666136505826722011-10-13T19:25:00.001-07:002011-10-13T19:25:46.940-07:00CAT!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLTTKJTdOtnnAJaLzQ1zdLrU5a61cO7noKHOrdTHxjfCs6_riRx8pbpqPCgXMR1etoeBFWAR4jani6uE3uzTKuI7bx_Et-AWqgaKE9HJzDK0vEJhqhLxiDZN5KXwrdTnzf4MmTN0_eF9Z/s1600/cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLTTKJTdOtnnAJaLzQ1zdLrU5a61cO7noKHOrdTHxjfCs6_riRx8pbpqPCgXMR1etoeBFWAR4jani6uE3uzTKuI7bx_Et-AWqgaKE9HJzDK0vEJhqhLxiDZN5KXwrdTnzf4MmTN0_eF9Z/s320/cat.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-32016033210498345832011-10-13T13:30:00.000-07:002011-10-13T13:30:02.134-07:00Funky Models<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDsHSDkcJm3-txolpFMcLO5aVtgMpoPaepTzTRws_cl7U9q-5nAiHp0W5Rm7K_BW9VyplrcCbpUsEC3A5BNBCacCKoQ_Qa2YDQyrsU_ipc96hvJ1VzsZBTALu_zfKqlZpYTyyJ459WSvMP/s1600/stella+m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDsHSDkcJm3-txolpFMcLO5aVtgMpoPaepTzTRws_cl7U9q-5nAiHp0W5Rm7K_BW9VyplrcCbpUsEC3A5BNBCacCKoQ_Qa2YDQyrsU_ipc96hvJ1VzsZBTALu_zfKqlZpYTyyJ459WSvMP/s200/stella+m.jpg" width="171px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I picked up a copy of Bazaar and I was so so happy I didn't want any of the high fashion clothes in there.I don't want the 2,350 dollar Jason Wu purse of the $195 dollar pair of orange pants from DKNY. I don't want tolike the women in the Calvin Klein ad because they scare me had have lips the size of Vermont. Then there's an outfit by Stella McCartney that looks so freakin silly, it's a top with lapels so large the cover the models underwear, but she's not wearing any pants. It's so goofy I'm having a hard time describing it. I couldn't get a picture of it but here's another one of her's that I really don't want. The only woman I think I have anything in common with in the copy of Harper's is Ellen DeGeneres. That's saying something right there.</div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-14202784010947825312011-10-11T12:00:00.000-07:002011-10-11T12:00:15.860-07:00Way Too Much Down Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOXDAVHFzl6GU4Qq-Ykzm1djk6chDvssTYlM6qxkPoxaywbud853U33yaKMEkjP8OQYg-xv3LtpSyF_D9i5F7NVqeB_b1m5N1lta2aHDeDBT3O2iD0L9O9clzc55Hq2GGkgFlQylCYKMp/s1600/sculpture.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="251px" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOXDAVHFzl6GU4Qq-Ykzm1djk6chDvssTYlM6qxkPoxaywbud853U33yaKMEkjP8OQYg-xv3LtpSyF_D9i5F7NVqeB_b1m5N1lta2aHDeDBT3O2iD0L9O9clzc55Hq2GGkgFlQylCYKMp/s320/sculpture.bmp" width="320px" /></a></div>If you are at home doing this...Get A Job!Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-26233850961635915652011-10-11T07:35:00.000-07:002011-10-11T12:01:39.529-07:00What Did I Say to My Kids?<strong>The Way We Talk to our Children Becomes Their Inner Voice. </strong><br />
- Peggy O’Mara <br />
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That's such a huge thought. What did I say to my kids this morning and last night? Is that still rolling around in their beautiful brains? I do know I yelled "I love you Monkey Butt" out the bathroom window as they were walking down to the bus. So I guess I'm ok.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-12671567798216370282011-10-10T09:24:00.000-07:002011-10-10T09:24:10.646-07:00A Guitar That Sounds Like Dolphins! DQ<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jSF4WIREdE">DQ</a>There are two things I love about Dairy Queen, first the commercials. they are really really funny. They blow bubbles with kittens in them. That's funny. These commercials are so good, when they come on the tv everybody in the house starts yelling at each other so we can all watch.That hasn't happened since my grandmother fell in love with Sheriff Matt Dillon in Gun Smoke in 1968. Here's the link to the one about the guitar that sounds like dolphins. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jSF4WIREdEThe">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jSF4WIREdEThe</a> second thing I love are the their mushroom Swiss burgers. Oh my Lord, they are so yummy. The smell is intoxicating and they taste better than any burger I've eaten in years. When I get burgers I try not to eat the bun so I sit in DQ with a yummy slippery grilled hamburger covered in mushrooms and Swiss cheese. I might look disgusting but man am I happy.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-56828122854495372352011-10-09T16:46:00.000-07:002011-10-09T16:46:38.623-07:00Get Him!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I just thought it was funny.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieC1WLxfkwwxYJKQM8KDrt-QNRIx4X9-jqzNon47cNcNzqNME8XtaqZPv-W0VNmuFs9MNMOjC88wNcY2QsSlztI-O80vC9wXulESsrnerDop5kYghnOucl6wbJnVZTwa_fFTtRNfE6NQ3/s1600/dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieC1WLxfkwwxYJKQM8KDrt-QNRIx4X9-jqzNon47cNcNzqNME8XtaqZPv-W0VNmuFs9MNMOjC88wNcY2QsSlztI-O80vC9wXulESsrnerDop5kYghnOucl6wbJnVZTwa_fFTtRNfE6NQ3/s400/dog.jpg" width="285" /></a></div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-15552943611313399072011-10-09T09:11:00.001-07:002011-10-09T09:11:56.882-07:00Get Him Mr. Cop<div class="postBody" style="color: #777777;">Oh my Lord, there's nothing better than driving on the interstate, a dude tailgates, then passes like an idiot. At 90 miles an hour. He glares at you as he swooshes past. And then you hear it, it the distance, the sound of the siren and you see the blue lights in your rearview mirror. The cop is coming up behind you like a tornado, and you know he's not coming for you. And as you pass the doof face and copper on the side of the road you wave and smile. JUSTICE</div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-67542769001119247702011-10-03T07:03:00.000-07:002011-10-03T07:03:04.824-07:00The Perfect Birthday GiftI love knowing exactly what I'm going to get someone for their birthday. Lexie turns 15 this Friday and there's not a doubt in my mind what I'm buying. And she's going to love the ____________________. When she opens the box/package she willl make all kinds of happy noises, she'll do the little happy dance, I love so much. Yeah, the ____________will fit, will be perfect, will be loved, unlike the Swivel Store that didn't fit in my cabinet this weekend. Because I know exactly what I'm getting her I don't have to wander through the Mall picking up weird shirts and hats and books she doesn't care about. I don't have to hold up odd looking jewelery and wonder if she will think it's cool. And I don't have to buy her a pet that might die in six month because she'll forget to feed it. (wait minute, that wasn't Lexie, that was Mary who accidentally killed her pets. She gave them plenty of love but not enough water) Lexie is gonna love the ______________and I'm gonna be a hero.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-90815004734907258352011-10-02T19:37:00.000-07:002011-10-02T19:37:25.269-07:00Stupid Swivel Store<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1kM7NFbluQAcZ9v1BLKtTyCJFtBX2LcBjPTsacg9M5Ms-1Cu60j-oLmlPxAD-BPXxT86-8ss0ieUzCMqQ1-Itbu1LUM-Y3kuaDTF217XGH1Z55xr_zoKQbhBY4KPcnJr2K3q_hJ4iDurW/s1600/swivel.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1kM7NFbluQAcZ9v1BLKtTyCJFtBX2LcBjPTsacg9M5Ms-1Cu60j-oLmlPxAD-BPXxT86-8ss0ieUzCMqQ1-Itbu1LUM-Y3kuaDTF217XGH1Z55xr_zoKQbhBY4KPcnJr2K3q_hJ4iDurW/s200/swivel.bmp" width="200" /></a></div>I got the Swivel Store, spice rack thing, for my birthday. I was very excited. I've been wanting it for months because I believed it would improve my life and my kitchen cabinets. I loaded it up with all the spices I never use, curry, marjoram, allspice. Who uses that stuff? But when I tried to put it in the cabinet...it didn't fit. It's too tall. That's sad but we also got a pull up bar for the doorway and it's awesome. Everyone told me if you hang a bar, you'll want to do chin ups. It's true, everybody has spent the day trying to do them. I managed tow, jack did dozen, Lexie almost got one and Sandor and his little buddies tried for hours to do a few. They pulled and pulled until their skinny little arms were shaking. So, no luck for the spices but say yes to the chin up bar. Get you some guns!Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-62171871957901922492011-09-26T07:35:00.000-07:002011-09-26T07:35:58.755-07:00Mondays Are AlrightMonday mornings...they are perfect. Yes, my desk is a mess, I left a cup of coffee sitting there, next to my phone and it looks really gross and there's a bunch of crap in my InBox but that's ok because I'm pure as snow on Monday morning. My past sins are forgiven, eveything I did last week is washed away, all the time I spent on facebook and talking to my kids...that's water under the bridge. This week will be different, I'll be focused and productive. I'll take care of my clients, I'll do the right thing at the right time, I'll make money and have fun. And it all starts right now, today, Monday.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-21496285236258544422011-09-25T18:21:00.000-07:002011-09-25T18:21:37.294-07:00Wrestling? Let's Go!This afternoon my son tried to tackle me in the grass. I didn't go down till he used the leg sweep. At first I was kind of mad, "You can't tackle your mom". then I threw him down and he laughed, jumped up and came at me again. this time I swept his legs and tossed him down again. Over and over he came at me and we wrestled around in the grass. He's 8 now and getting pretty big. He's a black belt and plays foot ball so he's got some skill. But you know what? I can still take him down, this week and I'm almost fifty and still like wrestling. It's fun and boy did it make him happy cause he's boy. I know I must look silly but wrestling is great and I think I'm gonna keep on doing it for a while.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-54657484557904741782011-09-23T12:22:00.000-07:002011-09-23T12:22:14.239-07:00Smile Untill It HurtsSometimes I smile so much my face hurts. How great is that? Today I talked to so many nice people, folks I've never met before and now my face hurts. While it's actually an unpleasant feeling, and I'm ready to stop smiling for a few minutes, I have to be thrilled by the cause. My face hurts from smiling. If I'm smiling I must be happy. This odd condition also tells me I don't smile enough, so I'm going to make sure I'm smiling when I'm happy. The truth is everybody looks younger and more interesting when they are smiling. Do you want a teacher that smiles or frowns. Do you like the garbage man who smiles or glares. If you get arrested do you want the pissed off cop or the one who smiles. And waitress...who wants an angry waitress...please give me a happy waitress or bartender. So, before you run out a pay 7,000 dollars on a face lift, try smiling till it hurts.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-8347248190369881202011-09-22T06:35:00.000-07:002011-09-22T06:35:16.962-07:00I Love My Gym<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj47Y-C6lIaox_9lXlBuBi0SKDDr7-I9OW3LlSQVzD97ms-vBsvBWGHA7Meloldvy4Bhtc5T4vikw0knZgkC6ZbXfstEGNnnp_nSTY_4aVmOhsdLr2KTr7zTFopqysgadeXhFxDkNZPkL5g/s1600/anytime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj47Y-C6lIaox_9lXlBuBi0SKDDr7-I9OW3LlSQVzD97ms-vBsvBWGHA7Meloldvy4Bhtc5T4vikw0knZgkC6ZbXfstEGNnnp_nSTY_4aVmOhsdLr2KTr7zTFopqysgadeXhFxDkNZPkL5g/s1600/anytime.jpg" /></a> Recently I joined Anytime Fitness and it's now one of my favorite places on the planet. I've been part of two other very popular clubs, here in Hot Springs but AF is so much better...BECAUSE ITS FRIENDLY! And my Anytime has great equipment. I can't stand walking into a health club and feeling as though everybody is checking me out, what kind of shoes am I wearing? what kind of tank top? Does my hair look perfect, am I one of those people who sweats on the treadmill? The staff at both my AF are crazy friendly and helpful and a little silly. they tease me when I only stay 20 minutes, they cheer for me when I shave two seconds off my mile. And that's what I need in a gym. Plus, AF smells good and has really really clean bathrooms. The last place I worked out had a shower changing room and all the really really large old ladies liked to sit around naked. I mean naked naked. It was disturbing and made me uncomfortable then I felt shallow and judgemental cause I felt uncomfortable. Put towel on, please. So that's my shout out to Anytime Fitness, it's a good place.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">PS they didn't pay me to write this.</div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-81692336856878705002011-09-21T06:26:00.000-07:002011-09-21T07:23:47.888-07:00Abercrombie Web Page Fun<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XpgHvBmeywGDF3hA2HxwoYHkV9d5IPUZm_5g-xdgJP4JTrzKtlKwDF0tZ0pHRd8nfcRcfo8_kPNaRR_pbfp4GRVq-QCKHimEy46D_PLnfGjMWWN38E1Hr7pwfJB5zFwjQ7TA1ZJvikRA/s1600/woman-super-skinny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hca="true" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XpgHvBmeywGDF3hA2HxwoYHkV9d5IPUZm_5g-xdgJP4JTrzKtlKwDF0tZ0pHRd8nfcRcfo8_kPNaRR_pbfp4GRVq-QCKHimEy46D_PLnfGjMWWN38E1Hr7pwfJB5zFwjQ7TA1ZJvikRA/s320/woman-super-skinny.jpg" width="166px" /></a>If you need to be entertained for a minute go check out the Abercrombie and Fitch web page. It's too much fun because the models on the home page are super pretty and almost naked with skin as smooth as a water balloon. The page doesn't make me want to buy their clothes but it does make me think about shaving my husband's chest. Hairless, like a seal pup, looks pretty good on Abercrombie guys. Then go look at the jeans, men or women. They only show the jeans and the beautiful bellies of their models. No arms or faces.Holy cow, those are some crazy looking torsos. Again, hairless to the extreme.If you check out the yoga pants it's the same deal, except the models have extreme abs and <u>cherry bomb butts</u>.I think these girls had the perfect buts before they bought the yoga pants. But if their yoga pants can make my butt look like a perfect honeydew melon, I might need some. The great thing is, after looking at their page I don't want their clothes or their models, I just want to look and laugh. Here's the link. Have fun! <a href="http://www.abercrombie.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/StoreView?storeId=10051&langId=-1&catalogId=10901">http://www.abercrombie.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/StoreView?storeId=10051&langId=-1&catalogId=10901</a></div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-39115494157613697022011-09-20T14:09:00.000-07:002011-09-20T14:09:02.289-07:00tomorrowI know what I'm writing about Wed. morning. How much fun it is to make fun of the abercrombe & fitch web page. Half of them are naked and the rest look really mean. Ha!~Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-30756304797513177872011-09-20T06:26:00.000-07:002011-09-20T06:26:44.877-07:00I'm Jacking Your Cash!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnrzsVa0UmDdCiKED7Yr3H1lWcu9ZdprYtBv-55GvQWOMGb8GVE-WjUr6ljZX5AnMC8JFCm5ZoJlt1ITu0rR6YyiznZTMCScFhPPDNZQxAVqtebbtu-XLvoW_uxh700vd0_ymloJHl4JwO/s1600/dollar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139px" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnrzsVa0UmDdCiKED7Yr3H1lWcu9ZdprYtBv-55GvQWOMGb8GVE-WjUr6ljZX5AnMC8JFCm5ZoJlt1ITu0rR6YyiznZTMCScFhPPDNZQxAVqtebbtu-XLvoW_uxh700vd0_ymloJHl4JwO/s200/dollar.jpg" width="200px" /></a>"Oh my gosh, look what I just found. A wad of bills in my pants pocket!." or "Look, I found eight dollars in these jeans I haven't worn in a month." That's one of the best feeling in the world. Of course as you unroll the money blob you are hoping there's a twenty in the middle. But even if there isn't, finding money, even your own money is so cool. Because for some weird reason it's free money. I can do anything I want with money I find in my pants pocket or better still in the washing machine. If I'm doing the laundry and find a ten dollar bill, I'm keeping it buddy. I don't care who's pants it came out of, that Jackson is mine and there's no telling what I'm gonna do with it. Hell, I might buy ten dollars worth of gummy worms and call it a happy day.</div>Moral of the story...do your own laundryDiana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-78576333995215853582011-09-19T07:32:00.000-07:002011-09-19T07:32:08.078-07:00The Way Morning SmellsThe way a good morning smells makes me crazy happy. Good golly miss molly, I love waking up and smelling the coffee, knowing it's already there, waiting for me, hot and fresh. And then it gets even better when I smell something else yummy, even if it's just toast. So go on, get the day rolling before I get out of bed. I love those morning kitchen smells.Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-82478639823067943052011-09-16T07:05:00.000-07:002011-09-16T07:10:48.523-07:00The Black Eyed Peas Can't Sing At My Funeral :-(<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f-MngCqYfQMscpraJG0HhAcKEDPWmCS6VFjy9zN7iNUyitv5rK8L4qkE93HoJADwT79M3p-bphzv3JLCVIsjvWZgJMhOafumFMPGwmnGzTwXybb6XFgUDx6yAZ-rz5VzoZzs29wtJho0/s1600/fergie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5f-MngCqYfQMscpraJG0HhAcKEDPWmCS6VFjy9zN7iNUyitv5rK8L4qkE93HoJADwT79M3p-bphzv3JLCVIsjvWZgJMhOafumFMPGwmnGzTwXybb6XFgUDx6yAZ-rz5VzoZzs29wtJho0/s1600/fergie.jpg" /></a>Tonight's Gonna Be A Good Night...I love that song in the morning. I know it's not very good but it's so much fun. Me and Fergie, we're tight. I told my kids I wanted that song played at my funeral because I was going to heaven and be with my old family and God. It would be a party and a very good night. But Lexie, who is 14, said no, I can't have the Black Eyed Peas singing at my funeral. Because it would sound like everyone was happy and dancing BECAUSE I was dead. <br />
Still...tonight's gonna be a good night!<br />
<br />
If you like this silly stuff, check out <a href="http://www.hampoland.com/">http://www.hampoland.com/</a>.</div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-68937801931310542962011-09-15T09:50:00.000-07:002011-09-15T09:50:28.953-07:00He's Not A Stupid Stoner Anymore!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuNf_whr5AnaV3NILwHPf3KNL2RXwawab60qKWd9YECvL77s-MySOEwAMHBnClxQWDtP2UCecduCUAAeMMqNv0-MkOHutOfUGnhPfz0_yqFW_APBQ1iQLVSPID0q9uMg3oChSZgUUvC_jc/s1600/neck+tatt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuNf_whr5AnaV3NILwHPf3KNL2RXwawab60qKWd9YECvL77s-MySOEwAMHBnClxQWDtP2UCecduCUAAeMMqNv0-MkOHutOfUGnhPfz0_yqFW_APBQ1iQLVSPID0q9uMg3oChSZgUUvC_jc/s1600/neck+tatt.jpg" /></a>Walking through Wal-Mart I ran into a boy I knew five or seven years ago. He was in my daughter's class. Back then he was a sorry punk loser and I figured he'd end up with neck tatts in prison. He was the kid with a messed up family who hit mail boxes with a base ball bat at least twice a year. He picked on little kids on the school bus then when he got older he drove like an idiot around the elementary school building. I'm pretty sure he's the kid that spray painted cuss words on the kinder garden slide and play house. Yeah, he was horrible. But now James seems to be just fine. I saw him this weekend, he's 22 years old and looks great. He's going to the Community College and working for the Parks Department. He introduced me to his girlfriend and they have a beautiful little two year old son. He shook my hand then gave me a hug. I'm so happy.</div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3012420331459061582.post-10068450672999863882011-09-14T08:55:00.000-07:002011-09-14T08:55:45.088-07:00STOP and Smile At That Guy<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlF-FIeKP6zcHqSdOi6ODSHY-3uMvJ4TO2EQ8SSwSVr-dbXomATMGkZDi2y1mswgckaDfie-I8gcmSHRKcVBskn8C2NykwdZs6T6ArzLnsIeBO4q1JDewEGsYWUeJfbfIm6IU7vHKJH3jR/s1600/road+con.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlF-FIeKP6zcHqSdOi6ODSHY-3uMvJ4TO2EQ8SSwSVr-dbXomATMGkZDi2y1mswgckaDfie-I8gcmSHRKcVBskn8C2NykwdZs6T6ArzLnsIeBO4q1JDewEGsYWUeJfbfIm6IU7vHKJH3jR/s1600/road+con.jpg" /></a>Almost everyday I pass road construction guys. They stand out there with a stop/slow sign wearing a hard hat and orange vest. I like waving at these dudes or at least smiling (not in a slutty "come over here" way) and then seeing them wave back or at least give me a head nod. That's got to be a pretty wretched job, especially when it's 104 degrees and they're wearing blue jeans. So I'm happy when I can make them smile. They <span style="background-color: yellow;">are </span>important, they keep me from having a head on collision with on-coming traffic. A smile is the least I can offer. And if they are happy maybe they will hurry up, finish their job and get the hell out of my way.</div>Diana Hampohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07150655907270654875noreply@blogger.com0