What have I done now? Since I have no idea where I am today, in the picture, let’s have fun and write a little story about it.
I’ll start:
“It was a dark and stormy night…”
Your turn. Leave a comment and then the next person can add to the story in a comment and so on, and so forth.
It’ll be fun! I’ll come back on Monday and see where the story is. We can finish it later.
AND DON’T FORGET TO VOTE today! Go here and put me that much closer to the THUNDERSHIRT TV STAR ! Thanks, as always, for your continued support.
I was left alone with my grumpy grandpa on a terribly stormy day.
Sweet William The Scot
Grumpy grandpa was a mean old cuss because I need him to VOTE for me and he refuses to get on the internet because of the storm brewing.
SWTS
No more stories, Stuart. Get out of there. The grumpy guy is accusing YOU of stealing his teeth and toupé and is getting his vast extended family on a witchhunt to get the perp-YOU. Scram! Leave now.
Even with the storm brewing and this very scary guy holding my photo, I could STILL hear the “chippers” calling my name! “Stuart, come and find us!” Don’t “chippers” know a strom is coming??
My friend Toby said “I’ll help you hunt those nasty chippers!!” I said let me get my trusty thundershirt on, just in case….so out in the brewing storm, two fearless Scotties go! Just as we were about to…….
go through the gate, Mr. Owl swooped in and offered to help. He knew where the chippers lived, so we set off at a trot, trying our Scottie best to keep up with him. He cut through the forest and we never hesitated, heading straight into the dark wood. But were we surprised when we came out into a clearing and saw…..
a giant old Scottish castle. Fearlessly, we entered hoping those chippers had run inside. The castle was cold and old and we could hear our nails scratching along the old stone floor as we ran through the large rooms looking for those darn chippers. Suddenly we came upon….
The Werechipper…bitren by a groundhog that had overdosed on deeo fried haggis, they lust for Terrier blood…
for bitren, read bitten. for deeo, read deep.
Dad’S typinng fingers are a bit tangled tonight.
once again the web demon strikes,
Tis me Piper MacT not my dad,
As I spotted the werechipper first, I turned to my hunting partner, Toby to say you go left and I will go right to trap the chipper, but **poof** Toby was gone….I guess his peeps called him for dinner……
It was a dark and stormy night…with my sturdy thunder shirt I felt not a quiver…. not even the slightest fright. Even grumpy gramps wanted me here to help keep away his slightest fear.” Please stay Stewart dear, for I sense doom is near !” Being the bravehart that I am I spent the night “PROTECTING HIM” without a single whim……..
ARROooooooo
……and this dog is trying to steal my thunder.
We voted!!!
That fellow should be smiling….since he created that beautiful portrait!!!
XXXOOO Daisy, Bella & roxy
Oh you guys are great!
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