January 9, 2012
You know it’s been awhile since you’ve blogged when:
(a) You forget the address of your own damn blog.
(b) Then you finally remember that there is a link to it on your bookmarks bar, but it still takes you 5 more minutes to find it.
(c) Once you finally find it and get to your blog, you realize you don’t even remember the password.
(d) So you go through all the crap you have to go through to get your password sent to you and then realize that your damn password was the supposedly idiot-proof password, “i4gotmypassword”
(e) Once you’re finally in the Fort Knoxiness that is your blog, you don’t even remember what button to click to write a new blog.
(f) Believe me when I tell you that there was indeed an “f” but that I totally forgot it in the 60 seconds it took me to write “a” through “e”
For those of you who know me, that should be easy for you to believe. What should be hard to believe, is that I have actually had the wherewithal to write nearly 200 of these amazingly fascinating blog posts.
I know. I can’t even begin to understand how it even happened, but I think I’ve gotten spacier. I am pretty sure that if you ask anyone in my orbit if they believe this to be a factual statement, they would say “hell yes.” And I don’t know what happened to kill the brain cells that were in charge of helping me remember things and actually have the motivation to actually DO those things. But I am going to go ahead and blame cleaning supplies. And because of the INDISPUTABLE SCIENTIFIC FACT that cleaning supplies have ruined my brain, I shall clean no more.
And that is sad. Cuz I really did love to clean.
And now I’ll have to drink more beer to drown the sorrow I feel since not being able to clean all the stuff and the things.
My brain cells may be dying off at an alarming rate, but I’m still smart where it counts: Coming up with excuses to drink beer and being awesome at Miscellaneous 80’s Trivia.
Q: What was the first word Allison said on The Breakfast Club?
Q: What was the name of Laura’s horse on Little House on the Prairie?
And BTW…do you remember when Nellie fell off of Bunny and pretended to be paralyzed and Bunny almost got put down? That Nellie Oleson was a fucker.
I DID look back at my last blog post just to see what it was about. Because I honestly had no idea. It seems to have been about how I get inappropriately touched by people and animals. A whole lot. Through no fault of my own. Well, unless you would call telling everything and everyone that I am going to hump it or them, MY fault. Which I doubt you would. Cuz you know that I will spork you in the kidney if you do.
So I’m thinking…what has happened since last we chatted? Well, I went on our annual holiday tour of Missouri. And as usual, I drank. I drank a lot. But I offset the calories of the drinking by not really eating that much, which helped me in two ways. #1 being that it made me save on calories, and #2 being that it made me get buzzed mega-fast. And I think we can all agree that drinking during the holidays is pretty necessary. I mean, I love my family. (Psst! They are reading this.) I REALLY LOVE MY FAMILY! But sometimes one needs just a touch of alcohol to make the family closeness bearable. Plus, alcohol actually makes you love your relatives more. It’s just Science. Much like the cleaning supplies killing off my brain cells thing is Science. Duh.
But all in all this holiday was pretty uneventful. No attempted murders of my prized possessions (Like last year’s horrifying and emotionally scarring, near murder of Mr. Stachey). No getting sent in circles by GPS. No snowstorms. No games of charades in which my young niece acts out Aunt Patti as a sloppy drunk who runs into walls and falls down. And no visits to the urgent care clinic for the first time in probably 5 years.
It was a strangely uneventful Christmas.
Something interesting DID happen at my mom’s house when I met my sister’s friend, who I shall protect by calling “Not Garrison.” Not Garrison had a little hatchback car that I had heard about months ago, due to the fact that he removed the back seats in order to make the entire rear of the car into what I believe to be a midget skating rink/kidnapping trap. See…what he did was remove all rear seating and then lay wooden floors down over the entire rear of the car, leaving a secret area below “for storage.” Why? Well, he claims it is to discourage miscellaneous people from asking him for transport all the time. But as I previously stated, I believe it to be a skating rink in which he will place one tiny skating midget who will enticingly disco skate under a small disco ball and funky lights in order to lure other midgets into the back of the car to skate, much like a siren lures sailors and pirates and shit, where they will then fall through a little trap door in the floor and into the little dungeon space below. I think he plans to drive across country capturing disco-loving midgets in every state. I am almost positive that I am correct about my assumptions here, people. I even made him show me the vehicle in question so that I could inspect it pretty closely, and I told him I suspected that he is trying to steal our nation’s little people. But he just looked at me blankly and then nervously giggled. Which is exactly how a guilty party would play it. The dude may be able to fool some of the people most of the time and most of the people all of the time but he can’t fool this person any of those times. Unless this person is drunk. Or low blood-sugared. Or menstrually imbalanced. Or something like that. Then yeah. He could probably fool me. But I was none of those.
Except possibly the drunk one.
And my niece and I decided to make our own “Patti and Jillian’s Year of Feelings” calendar, in which we will have a different feeling/emotion for each month. This is our “Cool/Awesome” shot:
And this is our “Shocked/Frightened” shot:
We think we might sell copies on ebay. I’m sure it’s going to be a top seller. As a matter of fact, we might just open a Zazzle store in which we will sell P & J Feelings Paraphernalia, such as eco-friendly shopping bags, coffee mugs, hoodies, etc… And I will use the money to purchase NotGarrison’s midget-disco-skating-kidnapping-mobile. Because if anyone’s gonna be doing something as sick, twisted, and weirdly awesome as that, it’s gonna be me. And then next year, I will sell a calendar in which each month has a different disco-skating midget! Money. In. The. Bank.
Maybe my brain cells aren’t so bad after all.
Footnote: I know that it is not officially Politically Correct to call little people “midgets” but for the purpose of this blog it flowed better. And personally I think it sounds cuter. Cuz to me, little people will always mean those REALLY little people from that cartoon when I was a kid that lived in your walls and had toilets that were made out of thimbles and stuff. So please don’t get all butt-hurt and send me email about my use of the word. Gracias.
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