The Winner of the Plateage

B-Lowe has spoken.  His favorite entry was submitted by Sara, comment #6: "When I woke up this morning I thought to myself...it's my birthday and I'm gonna get my ATV dirrrty, eat some fried food and watch movies full of blowin em up and shooten em dead...then the ladies showed up with a cake a decorations and I had to put a shirt on. I hate wearing shirts on my birthday!"

His favorite part was "I hate wearing shirts on my birthday!"  He laughed.  He grinned.  He said, "that's the one."

Congratulations Sara!  I heart those plates.  You will too. 

My husband worked until 3:00 a.m. last night.  Or should I say, "this morning"?

and Jesse has a new scarf about her neck.  It's aqua.  She looks good in aqua colors....

and my barstools are clean and shiny and "yu' cn' set on-nem" now without fearing MRSA....

and Diesel is the cutest Pug in the world....

and I'm listening to Carrie Underpants sing "Jesus taaaa-aaake the WHEEEEEE-EEEEEL!"....

and I'm happy about the sun shine....

and I'm looking forward to Mama Sita's family reunion tomorrow....

and I love my little green pasture....

and I love my man....

and my man and his papa liked my dinner I delivered last night....

and my man gave me a kiss to write about....and I will....

So....

I'm giving away some shtuff.  Classy shtuff.  Shtuff I bought at places like *Gardner Village.  If you haven't been there, go, dress, drive, arrive, and buy.  Hit up the bakery for an eclair for me.

Here's the goods:

 Plates.  Plateage.

I dig 'em. 

You will too.  

They can be yours.  To have.  To hold.  For better.  For worse.  All you need to do is give this photo a caption:

B-Lowe, the birthday boy, the father of my unborn children, will pick the winner.  You make the comment, I'll send the plates.

Contest ends Sunday at midnight, Mountain Time.  One entry per guy or gal, good luck!  I can't wait!!

Love,

Mrs. B-Lowe

*Gardner Village doesn't know who I am and they wouldn't care.  This is not a deliberate plug.  I just got the plates from them.  They would probably think I'm a moron if they knew of my existence anyway.  Over and out.