July 29, 2011
I’m cramping like a mo-fo and I have a heating pad in my underwear but I’m still writing a blog because I’m a freakin’ super-hero.
It’s PMS time again. I know, I know, it seems like only yesterday that I was bitching and complaining about my cramps, zits, and freakishly abnormal weight gain. But it’s been a few weeks. And although I asked The Hub last night if he would please remove my uterus to save me from this monthly torture, he declined. Or ignored me. Which is his own special way of saying “No thank you.” But he IS officially a doctor. And although not the medical kind, he has seen every episode of MASH, like, 100 times. And on that show Hawkeye is always performing surgeries with ball point pens and stuff. And when I’m in horrible pain and hatin’ on my uterus, a PhD, an addiction to MASH, a Taco Bell spork and a bottle of rubbing alcohol is totally good enough for me.
So here’s a little snapshot of my day today:
|My uterus is a bitch.|
And let me tell you something…Those ThermaCare patches work wonders when it feels like that thing from Alien is trying to claw it’s way out of your uterus. But I have to admit that I’m just a little pissed off at the makers of this patch. They must think that PMS-ing women eat everything in sight because on the back of the package it says not to eat the patch. Which kinda made me wanna eat it just cuz I hate it when people tell me not to do things. Like the time the container of chlorine tablets for the pool said “Do Not Inhale” and I totally inhaled like it was my last breath ever and it almost was cuz I not only killed half my brain cells but I almost died of sheer agony. And you’d totally think I woulda learned a lesson from that, but you’d be totally wrong. But since I just pigged out on a 3,000 calorie lunch and I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m just gonna stick the patch thingy in my underwear instead. And I don’t mean anything creepy by that. That’s what you’re supposed to do with it.
And FYI I’ve been away from home for 2 1/2 weeks now, and when I’m away from home my body likes to give me a big EFF YOU and stop allowing me the pleasure of a good poop. As my long-time readers know, my body is very choosy about where it poops. The surroundings must be clean and private. The stars must be in proper poop-producing alignment. Nobody can talk to me through the bathroom door or things will come to a screeching halt, much like a turtle going back into it’s shell. And the trauma of that can last days. DAYS. And I was at my mom’s house for a very long time. And at my mom’s house there are two toilets: One has a padded toilet seat. Which I hate with an indescribable hate, and which I cannot poop on because it feels like I’m pooping on a mushroom. And I’m not a goddamn smurf. And the other toilet has a vent right in front of it which blasts enough cold air at you to make it feel like you’re trying to poop on Mount Everest. And the force of that air also dries out your vag like you’re pos-menopausal. So it’s really a no go. Literally.
There’s poop obstacles everywhere people.
Anyhow….In spite of all of this uterine and bowel drama, I wanted to get on the blog and give a big shout out to a few fellow bloggers who have been super nice to me the past few days by saying really awesome stuff about me on their FB Fan Pages and sending me tons of new readers. So THANK YOU to the amazing chicks at Shit Your Mother Never Told You, Little White Lion, and No I Don’t Have PMS You’re Just An Asshole. You girls are funny, crude, and have really good taste in bloggers.
Also, I’m telling all my new readers to go back and read THIS BLOG about my O’Mara Revolution. I am entering stage three of the revolution, and would like you new readers to go and “like” his FB page. But don’t tell him I’m paying you. Because I told people on FB that he was paying me $5.00 for every new “like” I got him because I was saving for a miniature pony. And obviously I was lying. Cuz that’s what I do when I’m bored. And now he is confused as hell at all the people saying he owes them $5.00 or he owes me $5.00 or I owe him $5.00 or whatever they’re all saying. And he even somehow got it in his head that I’ve hired all you guys as hit men. And I think that’s because he doesn’t sleep enough. But I’m now kinda thinking he may finally be getting a restraining order on me. And since we had previous plans for me to carry him around in a Baby Bjorn while we drink beer from beer can helmets, I’d really rather avoid the restraining order if possible. So just tell him I sent you. And please watch his new show Terra Nova when it starts in September. It looks amazing. And he’s in it. ‘Nuff said.
Here’s a message he posted today, for all you new, or soon to be new, fans:
Cead Mile Faile
So go “like” him and stick around and join in on the conversations on his wall. Things get weird around there in the evenings, so you guys should fit right in.
And although I don’t want you to mention anything about money, feel free to ask him when I’m getting my Koala Bear, Percival July Jason Hubbel-Ford. I have his room all decorated and I’m getting impatient.
(BTW, thanks to my friend Trish Bower, I have a brand new FB Fan Page. So if you haven’t yet, go like it too.)
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