Pass the Puns, Please

It took me thirty minutes to get connected to Blogger this morning. Either my antiquated dial-up connection is overloaded, or my brain is still fuzzed by the large amount of tequila consumed Friday night in a rebellious I-am-more-than-a-mom-I-am-woman-hear-me-roar moment.

Oh, I roared. And now I whimper. Still. 36 hours later.

Was it worth it? Hell yes. I was able to see a whole different side of my closest cousin, and she is some wicked fun. Heavy emphasis on wicked.

To celebrate my first EVER tequila shooter (sad, it only took me 31 years to discover that particular pleasure), I proudly offer you this gourmet fromage.

Enjoy it with a dash of salt and be sure to suck on a lemon after. It will help to choke it down...

An enterprising journalist decided to get the scoop of the day by photographing the fearsome phantom that lived in the spooky old mansion house at the edge of town.

When he entered the house, armed with only his camera, the ghost descended upon him, moaning and wailing and clanking chains.

"I mean no harm; I just want your photograph," the journalist said bravely.

Pleased at this chance to make headlines, the ghost posed for a number of shots, and the happy journalist rushed back to his darkroom and began developing the photos.

Unfortunately, they turned out to be so underexposed that nothing could be seen in them.

He was distraught, and went to a local pub to drown his sorrows. Meeting his friends there, they asked what was wrong. Not wanting to tell the whole story, he simply explained with a single sentence: ......

"The spirit was willing, but the flash was weak."