Menses just commenced. It's 1:14 AM. I was asleep. That felt good. At 12:24, I popped up. I think I'm awake, maybe awakeish is more accurate. I'm always surprised when those handy-soapy-foamy-bottles run out of soap. For some lame ass reason, it never occurs to me that they ever will. They feel so lifetime supply , even though the bottles aren't more than 8 inches tall. Similarly, when I flip on a light switch and the light flickers to its death, I think "Now what?" Duh, schmuckette, you change the fucking light bulb . Intellectually, I know this, yet for some odd reason, it never comes to mind. In fact, a few years ago, my mother walked into my house and said, "Why aren't the lights working?" I said "I don't know, I flick the switch and they don't work." After a fit of uproarious laughter, she said, "Would it kill you to change the light bulb?” Hmmm. "No", I shamefully responded. I wonder why... it is that I hav
I am heartbroken... I did not make lisa whelchel's favorite blogs list. fuck. fuck. mother fuck. that fucking sucks. gaaahd. what the fuck do I have to do to get in this bitch's good graces. for the love of jesus mary and josephina.
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Hey, she'd have to explain to the E-van-jerk-als why she links to a "heathen's" blog and that they would then, burn her for being a heretic. You know and I know that she comes here five times a day for her Katie fix.
I steered way clear of the maylay because "Hearts at Home" means "This the only 2 hours my husband will let me out the house by myself". The place surely reeked of righteous indignation and spontaneous prayer vigils.
Had I known she would have been there, I would have hitched up the stroller and headed out for a photo op.
For you.
Because you're cool like 'dat.