I'm Just Saying

What a lucky girl

Pam Stone's picture

So there you are, sitting around in your underwear, watching the tube and discussing why anyone would be nuts enough to appear on ‘Naked and Afraid,’ when they receive no monetary compensation whatsoever (I know, right?), and the phone rings with an offer to reappear on a sitcom you did twenty years ago.

Back at the ranch

Pam Stone's picture

As my friend, Robbie, pointed out during my 10 day jaunt to Los Angeles, this was one of the very few times in life I could appropriately use the phrase, “Meanwhile, back at the ranch...” without being decried as a complete literary hack.

Hollywood is people!

Pam Stone's picture

To reply to concerned and well-meaning friends that have bid me adieu from the Carolinas as I headed back west to California, I am aware of the irony that I sound very much like Mitt Romney who, under attack from the left in regards to those businesses who had robbed pensions and laid off thousands while CEOs escaped with ‘golden parachutes,’ de

Are you sitting down?

Pam Stone's picture

So how does it feel to be going back to Hollywood?” That’s what I’ve been gently asked of late, by friends (well, when you live in a town of 2,000, pretty much everyone is your friend) and waitresses, the guys at the feed store and fellow protestors at our local demonstration against Duke Energy.

Here come the bears

Pam Stone's picture

How I miss my late neighbor during times like these.

It was generally around this time of year, when the peaches had been harvested from the surrounding orchards, that bears would come down from Glassy Mountain to, I suppose, “see what they could see.”

Just ask George Zimmerman

Pam Stone's picture

If there’s one man who was appreciative of the story this week about the wealthy American dentist, Walter James Palmer, who, after spending tens of thousands of dollars to lure a cherished, collared and protected lion name Cecil out into the open in order to shoot, stalk, and finally kill and behead the animal, it’s Bill Cosby.

It's called fomentation

Pam Stone's picture

It’s called fomentation,” an old friend of mine I hadn’t seen in ages shared from the driver’s side of his SUV, when I remarked that he hadn’t aged a day in the ten years I’d known him, “I do it every morning and I swear it keeps me feeling great!”

I may have to send it flowers

Pam Stone's picture

You know that feeling when it’s the end of a long, hot, summer day and you’re sitting around in your underwear (and to the neighbor who dropped by to generously share their garden zukes, yes, I realize you can’t unsee what you saw but you should have called first), opening a cold one, about to yell at House Hunters and suddenly your healthy, you

A love letter to Bonnie

Pam Stone's picture

Our ‘little girl in fur pajamas,’ Bonnie, was distinctly unwell this past week, resulting in a stay at the veterinary clinic and receiving IV fluids to help bring down elevated kidney and liver numbers resulting from a digestive upset.


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