I made it home from camp and promptly fell asleep (even before I managed to shower). My fabulous husband made dinner and now I am catching up on emails and messages that need replies.
If you are new to the Weekend Word Contest, those of us who play each week swear it is the fountain of youth AND are considered far more pretentious by our friends and neighbors than we ever were before. Young and elitist - what could be better than that?
Launder out the camp smell, grab a riding crop, wear an ascot and click on the word below. Mull over the definition, but be sure and use it in an engaging and thrilling sentence before 10 p.m. est on Sunday night. It is then I will read each one in the comments section below and announce the winner.
I refuse to be discouraged with the Weekend Word. Although admirers are few, I am considering hiring some.
And the crowd goes wild...
8 comments:
sometimes I tell my clague to shut up because they annoy me. But only sometimes.
Sometimes I tell my claque to shut up because they annoy me. But only sometimes.
If you get annoyed with your claque, even if only sometimes, you have to ask yourself the question, what is it about me?
Do you hear that? It's the sound of my claque responding to my last Weekend Word entry.
If a claque goes into the woods can you hear them clap ??????
Militia207
If you have a claque (or just think you do), then you have to ask yourself the question, what is it about me . . . .
It was very sad when the performer's claque turned on him and began a slow sarcastic clap.
As the prom queen strolled into the dance her claque squealed and clapped with delight, until they looked to the end of the hall to see the Peewee Herman look-alike being crowned prom king.
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