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Welcome to Wild, Wonderful West Virgina

Deer season in WV started Monday of this week, while Betsy and me were holed up in Hooker Central. Naturally, with so much testosterone in the air, there was a whole lot of hooting and hollering out in the parking lot around 4:00 AM whilst we were trying to catch some Z's.

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What's all that white shit?!

Greetings, friends, from the frozen North country. And happy Thanksgiving and all that. Here's to a bloated and gassy gullet stuffed with poultry and potatos. Here at the Hansen household will be eating spaghetti, my prefered T-day meal, as we'll be digging into hormone-enhanced gobbler at tomorrow's family feast. If we're lucky, we'll also get to partake of the traditional after-dinner gunplay.

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I need to get me some art and stuff

We really need to class our joint up. Cover up all them bare walls, y'know? I figured what could be more s'fistakaded than a painting of our Commander in Chief fixin' to play "Hide the WMD" with his loyal sidekick, the Prince of Darkness.

I wonder if I can buy me a copy on one of them internets I've been hearing about lately. Yeah, that would be High-Tech.

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Who thought this was a good idea?

When I'm out on the town, looking for a good time, the first thing I want to do is mosey into my local saloon and throw down a dainty 10-oz can or three of caffeinated, berry and ginseng flavored beer. Fuck yeah, that'll get the party started.

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Damn the french

This weekend Betsy's dad (the famous Ray Ray) and stepmom Carol are visiting us from sunny southeastern Ohio (where Glenn is tasked with singlehandedly winning the upcoming presidential election for Kerry, but that's another story). Yesterday we did some requisite touristy stuff.

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Oooohh.... scary shit

Another one of Betsy's college friends, Renae, is in town this weekend, so we've been doing the touristy stuff down here in Savannah that we've never got around to before for some reason. Last night we went on one of the two dozen or so "Ghost Tours" offered in town. This basically consists of following a guide dressed up in period garb around a few blocks, dodging cockroaches and the occassionally mentally handicapped fratboy on ecstacy, while listening to the guide's variation on descriptions of gruesome deaths and frightneing(ly expensive) old houses.

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Let the hairplug jokes begin

Betsy's been poking fun at me for the last several days, so I figured the rest of you ought to as well. Yesterday, along with dropping the S4 off at the stealership in Augusta for a repair, I bought a Porsche from a guy in Aiken. Yeah, it sounds like I'm having the mid-life crisis a bit early, I know. Betsy has been making 'vroom-vroom' noises and making up songs to agitate me for at least a week.

So let me clear up the inevitable questions.

Did it rain or something?

I can't really tell. The gloom and doom of yesterday has been replaced by blue skys and temperatures in the 70's, as Charley moves on up to pound the crap out of the Outer Banks, in typical Atlantic hurricane fashion.

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Home sweet home

Well, it feels like we're finally living like grown-ups. All moved into our new place, which we cleaned from top to bottom this weekend in preparation for a visit from Mom and Stu.

That got delayed, but since everything was neat and tidy, I thought I'd snap a few photos. Enjoy.

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What type are you?

I'm not going to post my score on the Driver Type Test for fear of the repercussions, but by all means, post yours.

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