Unlike some of my other serious columns which tackled the more troubling issues of our day, last week's piece analyzing the ever-present and ever-annoying types of Facebook Friends drew a rousing response from many of my online pals. Several of you wrote - or should I say inboxed - me with positive comments, and a few of you even pointed out that I forgot a few Facebook Friend-types.
So, at the risk of milking this cow to death, I offer you the Facebook Friends we almost forgot:

This has been a long time coming. I've waited nine long months to share this info with you: Pregnant women are grumpy creatures.
This is shocking news, I know, and I would have told you sooner had I not had one living in my very home and was afraid for my personal safety.

The Clemson-Carolina rivalry has become a very uncivil and brutal affair, and one of these days someone is bound to get hurt and perhaps even get their eye put out.
It's friend vs. friend, family member vs. family member, school vs. school. To the bitter end.
No, dear loyal college football fans, I am not referring to the rivalry that actually takes place on the turfs in Columbia and Clemson, I am referring to the bitter battles that break out on Facebook and Twitter well in advance of Rivalry Week in November, and continue long after that final whistle blows.

The kid and I were going deer hunting. It was our first real hunt of the year. We were ready.
"You got your gun?" I asked.
"Check. Can I have some bullets?"
"No. You got your camouflage hat?"
"Check."
"You got your copy of Boy's Life, in case you get bored?"
"Check."
"You got your Game Boy, in case I get bored?"
"Check."

Thanksgiving is one of my favorite times of the year for two reasons: turkey and turkey letters. For those of you unacquainted with this Guardian tradition, each Thanksgiving we get every second grader in the county to share their unedited turkey recipes. Here's one of my favorites this year, courtesy of 8-year-old Madison Lance from Varnville Elementary:

"How to Cook a Turkey"

As many of you have probably alleged after reading my columns in The Guardian, I am not much of a journalist and I did not major in journalism in college.
Nay, dear reader, I studied business at the fair University of South Carolina Salkehatchie campus (Go Indians!) under the most capable of professors, Dr. (and now state representative) Bill Bowers.

I must say I have to commend the local school district on its new, state-of-the-art website. With just a few mousey clicks a concerned parent can now check all of their child's grades just as soon as they are entered into the teachers' online grade books, as well as keep up with averages throughout the year.
This is awesome news for both kids and parents. Now kids don't have to go through the trouble of making up fictitious grades or fabricating stories about homework-devouring canines and the like.

Buzzards, loan sharks, and newspaper editors are among the most misunderstood people in the world. And you can find them all right here on Main Street in Hampton.
I wrote an award-winning column several years ago about what we Southern newspaper editors call "Buzzard Luck."
There's bad luck, and then there's its fat ugly cousin that lives next door to me, Buzzard Luck. I discovered Buzzard Luck when I became the editor of a small town newspaper.