adult baby syndrome

This is My Last Post

about gravy. This is also my first. Gravy is so good for a minute, and then it congeals and you remember you’re sucking down the fat run-off from a once living animal. And then you heat it up in the microwave and it’s liquid deliciousness again, and you stick a funnel in your mouth and wash down that spoonful of mashed potatoes with three quarts of cowfat run-off.

You may be wondering about this post’s content. Possibly. Gravy is pretty good. People should write about it. Or you may be wondering about the headline. The headline may be a twinge misleading.

You may have unwittingly clicked on it, thinking Oh my god! Is this end of Speaker7??? Who will I turn to for updates on adult baby syndrome or anal bleaching? (Answer: PBS News Hour with Jim Lehrer)

Rest easy, gentle reader. I am not going anywhere. In fact, I can’t. A gas and electric truck is currently blocking my driveway. When you’re dealing with electricity, basic rules of operating in a civilized society go out the window. I guess it’s the same for doctors’ offices, which explains why the one across the street thinks it’s a-okay to let its medical waste seep out of the 1/4-ply garbage bag into my yard. Used syringes are so cute in a 2-year-old’s hands!

My anger is causing me to lose focus.

The point is I played with your emotions to get you to click. I am in the process of learning how to write successful headlines to draw readers. A successful headline draws the reader’s attention, according to some writer who wrote the attention-grabbing headline “How to Write Effective Headlines”.

Initially I was going to go with this headline for the post: How To Write Effective Headlines Insight from How to Write Effective Headlines Author

I then read past the Effective Headlines headline, which was really, really difficult especially because there was a “shoot-the-watermelon” game happening on the right-hand side.

The point of the headline is trying to get people to read the article.

?!?

This was revelatory. I had thought headlines were meant to cause the inner light inside each and every one of us to collapse like dying stars. I had thought headlines were suppose to make you think I’d rather stick myself with that used syringe a second time than read this story–but no, headlines are designed to capture your wandering eye. Do you know 8 out of 10 people will read the headline, but only 2 out of 10 floss? And even though they have carved out a wedge of time to read blog posts since they are allowing their congealed gravy to stay between their teeth, they are not reading past the headline.

So my second headline attempt was: This Headline Is Meant to Get You to Read This Because Most of You Will Read This, But I also Want You to Click on This. Is that okay with you? Check the Yes or No Box and Get Back to Me. I Love You.

Apparently headlines are not supposed to be longer than the actual post unless you are Fiona Apple. They should also be punchy, not to be confused with paunchy which is what one can be if one consumes a lot of gravy. They should lash out at the readers’ eyes with a quick one, two.

So that’s how I ended up with the headline I did. And you clicked. And if you have made it this far, I have a reward.

Apparently people like sexy pictures. Blogs that contain sexy pictures get lots of page views.

So here’s a sexy picture:

This came up in a search for gravy. You’re welcome.

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To Know the Actual Love For You

Wouldn’t that be something–especially today of all days, the 14th day in the month-long celebration of National Bird Feeding? To know the actual love the actual someone has for the actual person who is you? I wish there was a list of actual tips. Maybe written by someone for whom English is a second language. Then I would know if a guy has a love for their girls.

The Internet never ceases to amaze me, whether it be sating my never-ending desire to know all there is to know about adult baby syndrome or helping to master the intricacies of the Shake Weight®, it always comes through for me. Google even made me a video Valentine I never finished watching because I clicked on a link to learn how to get freakishly long eye lashes (cow urine moistened onto the eyelashes followed by dollop of bird urine, cover with gauze). It was difficult to read through the gauze, but I did find a website that answered the age-old question:

How is it possible to know the actual love of the guy for you?

Tip 1 – When he takes interest in your matters like your work schedule.

I asked Mr. Speaker7 if he knew what I did at 10:35 a.m. today. He responded: “No, what did you do?”  I have been giving him the silent treatment ever since, and broke it only to say what I would like to order for take out.

Tip 2 – When a guy keeps a track on your habits.

I break my silence. What is my number 1 habit? I ask my husband. “Sitting in front of a computer screen for hours,” he responds.

The correct response is ribbon sorting.

Tip 3 – When a guy wants to spend more time with you, dates out with you and shares your favorite pastimes, then he is madly in love with you.

Do you want to mix up these ribbons and then sort them by thread count? I ask. “It’s been a really long day,” sighs Mr. Speaker7

Tip 4 – If he tries to be friendly with you, it show signs of love for you.

I think the supermarket cashier is into me because he said “Here you go. Have a nice day” rather than spitting in my face, a clear sign of no love for you.

Tip 5 – Changing of topic when you discuss about your future with him is not a good sign of a healthy relationship with your love.

What is the future of your relationship with my love? I query breathlessly. “…” responds Mr. Speaker7 because he left the room 20 minutes ago to stop answering these questions.

Tip 6 -His every action will make you believe he loves you.

Really? His every action? All humans poop. There was even a book written about it. Should I see if he is or is not pooping on a photo of me? How far do I go here? I mean your tip is very specific and helpful, but where do we draw the line? Ball scratching? Yes, ball scratching.

I think that’s a good tip to end on especially since Tip 17 is “knowing when to end your blog post on a positive love note shows he feels in love with his love over you” and there are 3,259 other tips. And Mr. Speaker7’s action of folding laundry when I hate folding laundry is clearly making me believe he loves me in a sharing of not-favorite-pastimes-kind-of way.

Happy Bird Feeding Month to you all!

Please welcome the newsfeed baby!

Not only do I get to sift through friends’ platitudes– “Don’t Look Back. You’re Not Going That Way”–on my Facebook newsfeed, but now I can see what news articles they read on other websites.

This is great. I really wanted to know that people I know on the most superficial of levels are reading articles like “Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar are expecting their 20th child” and “SeaWorld Orlando announces new attraction” (Apparently Shamu and Jim Bob Duggar are expecting their 20th hybrid whale-baby)

Facebook has hooked up with Yahoo! and created a newsfeed baby that is a half-brother to the baby created by Yahoo! and Jim Bob Duggar.

I don’t read Yahoo! News because the name itself invalidates everything placed on that page, but it’s basically the sign of the times to come. At some point, Facebook will intertwine directly with our brains and be able to post status updates  like:

I really don’t want random people…excuse me, my besties knowing what I search for and read on the Internet. I look up some weird sh*t on the Internet. For research, thank you very much Mr. FBI agent or Mrs. FBI Agent because I’m not sexist or Ms. FBI agent because you don’t have to be married. I have looked up adult baby syndrome several times. I also searched for information on Richard Simmons and his pom-pom tank top, which incidentally led to many sites on adult baby syndrome. I use search engines when I don’t know how to spell something like gonorrhea or Kim Kardashian. All for this blog.

All for you, readers.

Now the U.S. Supreme Court is hearing a case on whether it’s a-okay for the coppers to track your every move (unbeknownst to you, of course) through GPS. I read about this on Goofball! News. That GPS thing-a-mabob is not good. It touches on the Orvillian (coined for Orville Redenbacher who experimented with hybrid popcorn kernels). I really don’t want the local police to know that I stop at the local Rite-Aid several times to pick up adult diapers for the diaper parties I attend. For research. 

We are one step away from looking as bad as Bruce Willis did wearing that hair piece in Surrogates, a movie I’ve never seen due to spending time in active pursuits like searching adult baby syndrome on the Internet.

How do I know?

I read about it on Facebook.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

You know how you discuss your uterus at work?

Yeah, I didn’t think that happened. Unless you work in a gynecology office or in porn or for Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas (Aw snap! Clarence Thomas jokes are soooooo 1991. Better rinse off that Coke can).

But I talked about my uterus at work, or at least I answered questions about it. It seemed odd at the time…mainly because it is completely #$!%^*^!%$ odd.

Here’s what happened:

Another coworker is pregnant with her first child. Since I’m not a hoarder nor planning on having anymore children apart from the one, I am giving her a ton of my old baby items that my 19-month-old no longer uses. She is very grateful cuz that sh*t’s expensive and you use it for about 5 minutes. She is not the problem.

Before a work meeting began, I let her know that I had some bottles, a sterilizer and a feeding chair in my car.

Won’t you need those for your second child?  asks someone else very appropriately since my childbearing decisions clearly affect her and I was including her in the conversation by not addressing her in the slightest. Uh…no, I answer. This is a really good time to have a second child.

At this point, I am really enjoying the direction this conversation is headed…probably in the same way single people enjoy being asked when they will get married, childless married couples when they will have children and the elderly when they will die.

Oh, I’m just having the one, I breezily say and continue my conversation with my pregnant friend.

You can’t let your son be an only child, chimes in another coworker.

Um….I can’t do what now?

He’ll be lonely.

Yes, my daughter and son are best friends, says the other.

Have I suddenly become a character in an after-school special about peer pressure? Hey man, everyone’s having second babies. You don’t wanna be a loser, dawg.

That’s sweet. My brother used to kick me so hard, he’d knocked the wind out of me. I’m good with the one.

It’s really much easier with the second one. You don’t even notice it.

Really? I don’t really notice another human being completely and utterly dependent upon me for his or her survival? Alright then, let’s get with the babymaking.

There are many reasons why I’m only having one child. These are reasons that I’m not completely comfortable discussing with people I work with but barely know at all..especially at the start of a work meeting.

Since these questions will likely continue until I reach a certain age, I need to come up with a better response than “uhhhhhhhh.”

Here are my ideas for possible responses (please let me know your fav in the comments section):

1. I would LOVE to have another baby!!!! With your husband! And you videotaping it!

2. Your question just gave me menopause.

3.  It’s weird. After the first baby, my uterus packed its suitcase and up and left without even leaving a note.

4. The satanic cult said they only needed the one.

5. I suffer from adult baby syndrome. My doctor said I would need to give birth to an adult to take care of me.

6. Oh, so you want to know about my husband and my lovemaking sessions? Great! I’ve been waiting to tell you about them for like, ever. First we light all of our Paula Deen Crisco-scented candles until our living room smells like the midway at a state fair. Then my husband lets the gimp and monkey out of the cellar. While the gimp teaches the monkey to whistle Nelly’s “It’s Getting Hot in Here,” my husband begins to cut pieces of his clothing off and stuff them into his mouth. By this point I’m done eating the peanut butter sandwich I’ve made in the kitchen and become part of the quartet as the monkey begins spinning like a whirling dervish….wait, where are you going?

7. Oh see the psychic told me my next child would ask completely inappropriate personal questions of work acquaintances and I didn’t want to inflict that on anyone.

The Newest Member of the Baby-sitter’s Club

Working is very difficult.

It has caused me to miss the answer to the greatest bombshell question in the history of question-asking. I got a little teaser from the Today show when Matt Lauer said we would get the answer to this earth-shatterer: Would Casey Anthony’s parents let her babysit her brother’s child?????

Well, if he had a child. He doesn’t. But that is still a fucking awesome question. It made me do this:

I know this question kicks balls because the Today anchor interviewing Dr. Phil told him it was “a very interesting” question. And I looked up “very” and “interesting” in the dictionary and they continue to have the same meanings. This Today anchor knows what he’s talking about–although he also knows when Matt Lauer retires, he will never take the anchor chair because he’s older than Matt and must content himself with Matt’s dinner scraps, but he makes himself feel better knowing that he has his Matt Lauer voo-doo doll at home under his pillow and he will be able to stick pins in it later and that stops the roaring in his ears.

If you hadn’t read my previous post of the very un-turdlike manner of Dr. Phil, you may be unaware that Dr. Phil has conducted 1,321,408 interviews with Cindy and Anthony Anthony (I don’t know the father’s name, and am too lazy to Google it, but believe this is “a very interesting” guess). He has done this because this is the biggest story in my lifetime and any person’s lifetime born in the next 75 years–hence the nuclear bomb question of amazingness. The Today show even had on a judge to give her perspective. She was very normal-looking.

Speaker7 sentences you to more lip injections *bangs gavel*

While Dr. Phil’s question was truly terrific and I did have to pick my jaw up off the floor and I was saying “Wha…wha…wha…” because I couldn’t even get the word “what” out of my mouth because my brain had so totally exploded, I think he missed an opportunity to ask even better follow-up questions. Here it is the biggest news story of our lifetime and anyone else’s lifetime born in the next 75 years, and Dr. Phil, frankly, dropped the ball and continued on with the next line of questioning, which I believe was:

“Do you think my giant head could fit inside the grand canyon?” (The answer is no.)

Here is what I would have followed up with:

Let’s say Casey brother is in a tight spot and really needs a babysitter, and the only choices are Casey or OJ Simpson. Who should he pick?

What if the choices were Casey or one of those mothers from Toddlers & Tiaras?

Say you have a time machine and you can send Casey back in time, would you allow her to babysit herself?

If Mary and Joseph needed a night out on the town, would you let Casey babysit Baby Jesus?

What if it was Adolf Hitler’s parents?

Do you think Nancy Grace would ever ask Casey to babysit her twins, and if so, do you think Casey would do a good job?

Would you let Casey date someone who suffered from adult baby syndrome?

I know it is canceled, but would you let Casey star on the show Casey and Kate Plus 8?

Would you let Casey be adopted by the Duggar family? What about the Manson family? What about the Jolie-Pitt family?

Would you let Casey adopt a virtual baby? What about a Furby®?

Would you let Casey adopt Lindsay Lohan? What about Michael Lohan?

Would you let Casey care for a Baby Think It Over® infant simulator? What if it was a sock puppet with a baby’s face drawn onto it? What if it was just a sock?

Could you leave Casey and Dr. Phil alone in a room with only a bottle of chloroform? Please.