April 5, 2013
So the email service that I use to send out all of my blogs to subscribers is being a total ball suck. And basically the whole reason that I even write these Facebook Friday blog posts is so that all of my subscribers who aren’t on Facebook can catch up with what they missed over the course of a week. BUT since the whole ball suck thing is going on, I don’t know if my subscribers are even gonna get this post since they didn’t get my last one.
The point is, I could be wasting my time writing this for nothing. So I’m totally having a beer while I’m writing it. Because I deserve it. And also because any time spent drinking a Modelo is not time wasted.
It’s been a long day today.
“Why has it been a long day?” you might be asking me right now. And if you are, rest assured you look ridiculous. Talking to your computer screen like a nutball. News Alert: I can’t hear you. You weirdo.
The reason it’s been a bad day is because, like I said, my email subscription service is acting like a dick and it forced me to read a whole lotta technical computery stuff that my brain just does not comprehend. ANY time I have to read technical jargon is a day from hell.
And then I had to go poop.
Let me set the scene for you:
So I have my 4 cups of coffee and make my way into my church to have my morning constitutional. It’s going well. While doing my business I get deeply involved in trying to troubleshoot this whole problem I am having on my blog’s subscription site (eff you, Feedburner!) so I sit there quite a bit longer than necessary due to the fact that I finally think I might be figuring something out. Turns out I was wrong. So I finally decide that perhaps spending 20 minutes on the potty for absolutely no reason other than I was busy reading, was dumb. Because my left leg is asleep. More than asleep, actually. More like dead. So I stand up and can’t feel a thing and my foot is heavy like a Frankenstein foot. So I turn to exit the bathroom and pull that dead leg with a bunch of force. Too much force. And my dead Frankenstein foot rams into the door frame. I don’t feel it because it’s dead. But I fall down because the force stopped me so hard in my tracks than I fell. It was like I hit a wall. Because I did. I hit a wall. With my Patti-pooped-too-long dead Frankenstein foot. So I dragged myself to my bedroom to sit down and slowly the numbness wore off and I realized that my foot was swelling. And oh yeah, I also realized that it hurt like a holy mofo. So now I’m sitting around with an ice pack on it, popping Advil like candy, hoping that the swelling goes down and I can stand on it because DUH! I have a freaking Mud Dash tomorrow that I have been looking forward to for months!
“Hey Patti! Why aren’t you competing in the mud dash?”
“Because I pooped for too long and my leg fell asleep like a dead frankenstein foot then I rammed it into a doorjamb and probably broke it without feeling a damn thing, and then I fell down without any pants on. Duh.”
And there you have it. Bad. Day.
And even though the chances are slim to none that my subscribers actually see this post, I decided that i would write it anyways. Because you have missed a few things. And if you see me and you’re all like ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the freaking poop foot injury?” I can say “I DID! I posted it in my blog. If you really loved me you would check my blog every day just in case you missed something. Thanks for outing yourself as a total jackhole”
So here’s what has happened this week in Facebooklandia and beyond:
The podcast of my interview on Hines’ Side Show from Springfield’s US 97 went up on their website. You can listen to it HERE if you missed it. You can see how dumb I sound and also how I end most of my sentences as if they were questions when they are so totally not. Yes. When you listen to yourself chit chat for over an hour you notice lots of things about yourself. You can also learn about my plans to get into The White House, start a rock band, smuggle drugs across the boarder, sing, and imitate what giant tortoise sex sounds like. How could you NOT listen?
Then on another day, I had this thought about a Maroon 5 song:
|I just figured I’d add this picture cuz I’m cranky and I need it right now.|
And The Boy said this about the book “I Just Want To Pee Alone“:
“I read your chapter in the book while I was taking a crap. You said that when I was a baby I was an a-hole and you talked about my poop. That is just so wrong. You’re getting famous because you invented me. I’m the one who should be famous.”
First of all I went to bed way too early. Like an old person. It was still in the nines for Pete’s sake. But The Hub was going to bed and there wasn’t anything good on tv and I was totally bored so I thought “Hey. I am way behind on my sleep so I might as well catch up.” Which was really responsible thinking on my part. But when I went to the bathroom to do my before bed pee, there was a big spider in front of my closet staring at me so I yelled to The Hub “Help! Spider! HELLLLLPPPPP!” and he said “Just hit it with my shoe.” And he said it all monotone and exhausted and annoyed like only a total wanker would say it. He said it like his bride’s life was NOT in immense danger. But I found my lady balls and killed it with his shoe. And it was disgusting. Then I yelled “Thanks for your help, a-hole!” Then I was totally effed up for the rest of the night due to the fact that I have major spider issues and if I see one before bed it pretty much means that the zzz’s ain’t gonna happen because all I can think of is being Gulliver’s Travelled by an army of spiders while I sleep. So I didn’t sleep. At all. Until about 6 am. Then my alarm went off at 7. So yeah. Happy Thursday. The Hub is a turd-hole.
Psst! My friend Angie is having a contest on her website where you can win some scrapbooky stuff. If you want to enter GO TO HERE.
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