New World Order

The times they are a-changin’ as Kevin Dillon sang on Entourage. As much as we try to cling to the past, we must sometimes set something we love free and then drink ourselves blind until we pass out in a gutter.

That is why I have said goodbye to I chose that blog address when I was a wee lass of 3- back in August, and felt that I had so much rambling rumblings to give to the world. Six seconds after I chose that name and purchased the upgrade to get rid of the wordpress part, I realized I fucking hated that blog name. You don’t ramble or rumble. Who do you think you are? Some banjo player on Prairie Home Companion? I thought angrily to myself, It would be more appropriate to call this the, you stupid jerk. . . awww, I didn’t mean it. Don’t turn away from me, you know I get mean when I drink mimosas.  I removed the sock puppet I use when I talk to myself and decided to live with the stoopid name.

Until today.

Today I was thinking how much I hate how my blog looks and hate how it talks back to me, and then storms out of the house dressed like a hussy. I wanted to make a change–for once in my life. Gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference, gonna make it right. (Too soon?)

So I figured out how to change my address, and incidentally figured out how to finally get rid of the wordpress in for a blissful 10 minutes. Best $25 I ever spent!

This blog will now be known as This is nearly as exciting as when Madonna renamed herself BulgingArmMonster or when the WB network changed its name to something I can’t remember.

I’ll take some questions.

From what I can gather no one cares. 

Is that a question?



Will having Howard Stern as a host on X-Factor make it watchable?


Which Sex and the City character are you most like?

Howard Stern.

How do I unsubscribe?

Hit the Like button and write “This is the most awesome blog in the universe” and share with 400 friends.

I see you added some drawings to the masthead. 

Yes. Thanks for noticing. Most of these comments have been off the mark.

Well my question is did your toddler son draw them? And if yes, does he have a developmental disability when it comes to drawing? 

I think we’ll stop the questions for now.

Welcome to the future everyone. For your viewing pleasure:

Also contains my dreams, youth and Oscar the Grouch.