Welcome!

Hello, and welcome to Dairy Queen. No, not the ice cream store with the mouth-watering goodies (which I've never tasted btw). My name is Carly, and these are my tales of life on a dairy farm...

So, when you see the cows in the fields they look sparkling clean right? Are they really? NO. They are filthy. And guess who has to clean those cows? Yup, that's right, me the Dairy Queen. PAUSE

My best friend just notified me that her "pop-pop" used to own several DQs!!! Lets have an interview, shall we?

Me: Marissa, what was your pop-pop's job for the DQs?
Marissa: He owned them and ran them.
Me: Thank you captain obvious.
Marissa: Love you too, buddy!
Me: What is your pop-pop's favorite kind of ice cream?
Marissa: I have no clue, but my grandmother buys him....chocolate...sumthin....chocolate tin roof??
Me: That is so sad.
Marissa: Alright Carly, what's your grandfather's favorite ice cream?
Me: Actually, it's black raspberry. I know cause I'm a gooood granddaughter.
Marissa: Well.

That's enough of that. Anyhoo, the Dairy Queen of Northeast PA actually has to wash cows today after she is done having fun at her friend's house. And it stinks.
Well, ttyl, Carly