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All of my cars have had names. My first car was a 65 Rambler dubbed Daisy, which had first belonged to my mother. Then there was Beercan, my little 78 Honda Civic; Rollergirl (pre-"Boogie Nights", the 84 Honda CRX. My little Mitsubishi was dubbed Newton by my late stepmother. My first "nice" car was Hunter, the green Grand Am. The Kia Sportage was Ripley, after the Aliens ass-kicker.

The minivan hasn't named itself yet. It will, when the time is right.
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Wait. Wait one cotton-picking minute. These animal rights activists are spending their time, energy and money to combat a word that conveys the responsibility in keeping a pet?

Wouldn't animal rights be better served in fighting abuse, overpopulation, and educating people on how to be responsible pet owners...er...guardians...er...parents....umm....

Are these the same folks who object to pets being called "pets", and want them to be called "companion animals" or some such?
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Joker would say: Mommy. I love my mommy. My mommy is a great mommy. Do you know my mommy? Have you seen my mommy. Where's my mommy. Oh, there's my mommy. Hi mommy, I love you mommy. Mommy.

Harley would say: Mine. That's mine, too. I have to go out. Psych! I peed on the floor instead. Oh, that's mine. Mine. Mine. Gimme that, it's mine. Oh hi, I'm so cute...dontcha love me? Oh, that poop on the floor? That's mine. Mine. You're mine, he's mine, that's mine. ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US.
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Absolutely agree. Tax it, regulate it, fine for DUI...just like booze and tobacco.

And for Gods' sake...let me have the only medication that actually WORKS for me.
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It's a toss up between my go-to comfort food: Grilled cheese

and my super-NOMinous invention:

Avocado, lettuce, tomato, roasted peppers and goat cheese on a baguette. Drizzle a little of the oil from the roasted peppers on it and NOM!
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I stayed in the same school district for my entire career. I was a smart kid, skipping first grade and going right into second. That impacted me more than I think my parents and teachers could imagine. I was able to keep up scholastically, but I was a year behind emotionally and developmentally. One year makes a HUGE difference when you're in grade school.

So, while I was confident as a smart kid, I had some social issues. I didn't have many friends that I was close to, and didn't even date in high school. Most of the people I did become friends with didn't attend my school, and the few dates I had were also from out of the area. While people liked me and there wasn't any real animosity, I just didn't fit in. I was always a little behind in the social arena.

Big impact. HUGE. I still have issues in that area, although I've since learned how to be friendly and outgoing, against my usual impulse to remain quiet and in the background.
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I love Rudolph, The Grinch and I just saw Elf for the first time and thought it was cute. I don't really watch It's a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th St or any of the other classics.

Of course, there's my grandfather's movie, The Christmas That Almost Wasn't and the ever-wonderful A Christmas Story. Now that my daughter is grown, we don't really watch too many of the holiday specials anymore; she's not interested and I'll usually only watch if there's nothing else.
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I sure do, I love the look of a festive house. I usually start the week after Thanksgiving, putting up the wreaths and garland on the mantle (I have a mantle again this year!). The tree is usually up by the second week of December, if not the first.

It all comes down the first week of January. A month is long enough.
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The little liquor store/convenience mart is a favorite. Not only do they have good prices on cigarettes, but they special-ordered Cachaça for me. It's not really the brand I wanted and it was expensive, but they researched it and ordered it just because I asked. They also ordered the cigarette brand I wanted.

It's the personal service I like. They know me on sight and know what I want. And even though the Cachaça took a while to get in, the clerk kept me informed on their progress. And he threw in a couple of limes for free, and took notes on how to make a Caipirinha to explain to other customers if they asked what the Cachaça was.
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I can't help it, it's my favorite even though it's TERRIBLE. It was my grandfather's last movie, and I have fond memories of watching it every year when it came on TV. It no longer plays on any channel (at least that I've seen), but my father recorded it years ago for me.

It's "The Christmas That Almost Wasn't" with Rossano Brazzi and my grandfather, Mischa Auer.

I'll be subjecting Will to this monstrosity today. And I will sing along and love it...as I cringe.
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If I answer this, I'll have an earworm.

What? Does LJ think I'm a masochist?
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I do the cooking for Thanksgiving these days, so I don't have to worry about sweet potato pie. Leave the sweet potato alone, why cover it up with mini-marshmallows?

Ick.
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