I really miss froggin'. My mom loved frog legs more than anything, and every year just before the 4th of July we'd go get a huge mess. Mom would get all liquored up, spread newspaper on the kitchen floor and wait for us to get home. We'd walk in all muddy and stinking, and there she'd be sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor drunker than a hoot owl with a knife and a pair of pliers. Good times!
You can really only appreciate that if you knew how prissy and professional my mom was. She'd go full Redneck over a mess of frogs though. ?