NaNoFaLaTiDo

I am foolishly participating in this thingy where I write a post every day this month. I think it should go well because I used the word “thingy” in the previous sentence and this shows my creative juices are thingy.

I did this last year with Jen of the illustrious Sips of Jen and Tonic, the most hilarious blog on the nets of Inter. I had thought the endeavor would be a tad easier than NaNoWriMo, the national novel writing month, but it turned out writing a daily post was about as fun as trying to come up with an analogy for this sentence. A lemon juice enema? A Miley Cyrus tongue bath? A Miley Cyrus tongue enema?

I still got it.

I believe I’ve conned Jen into doing NaBloWriMo because we have a beautiful masochistic relationship.

There are many reasons why I will fail and you will likely not see another post after this one:

1. Now that it gets dark so early, I feel it completely unnecessary to be awake past 6 p.m.
2. My husband is running for local office and the last time I saw him was on a campaign flyer asking for my vote.
3. There is a small person who demands most of my time. His name is Hugo. I also have a three-year-old son.

4. Obamacare

5. They have come out with an Angus Beef version of Hot Pockets

Jen had asked me what I planned to write about and I replied “Hot pockets.”

I still got it.

Why Isn’t Anyone Writing?

I wake up early every day. I play Blue’s Clues (today we learned Blue wanted to pretend a box was a roller coaster, and I wanted to pretend that the box was a case of Ambien) and go through the eternal changing-clothes battle. I fall down the stairs, pop the antibiotic I take for the white patches in my tonsils that appeared once my son was born, and dig another notch in the wall to signal the start of the new day. After 14 rounds of “Get You,” which entails chasing my son around the couch, I finally wrangle him into a high chair, find the same Elmo’s World episode on Youtube, toast a waffle–which is one of five items my son deigns to eat–and finally have 45 minutes to myself where I can stare at a computer screen and am only occasionally interrupted by demands to “Dance, mama!” whenever Elmo sings his stupid songs.

But here’s the thing, people. You are not here for me. I click on the “Blogs I Follow” link and there’s nothing new when before I had to cut back on my sobbing-and-rocking-in-the-corner routine to make time for all the new blog posts.

You all seem to be on summer vacation with your pina coladas, flesh-eating viruses and divorce speculations (FYI – Katie and Tom split because of too many misplaced thetans and too few couch jumps), and that’s fine. Really. I’m not being a martyr while I sit in my windowless dining room and click on links about raspberry ketone’s fatty-superman powers. Don’t worry about me.

And I’m only half-serious when I write of the relentless confinement that is my life. Why just three weeks ago, I got my haircut so that was something. I might have a picture of it…no, no I don’t.

But I’m fine. See?

See without your pithy blog-o-grams, I am forced to seek out other sources of information. And then I actually read “news” and learn that people are against health care  reform, but are for the provisions in it, and become aware that some people want to now move to Canada to get away from our “socialized medicine” and I just can’t…I just can’t handle it.

So go on that cruise in the mountains or play golf in that casino–you have my blessing. Just bring your laptop or smart phone or E-meter and write about all the fun you’re having so I have something to read in the morning.

Deal?

The Siren Call of the GOP

I’m not exactly the most up on my political news mainly because whenever I hear politicians speak, I began convulsing and frothing at the mouth. That’s why I get most of my news from Bachelor Pad. But for some reason tonight, I hear the sweet siren call of the Republican presidential debate, and I am compelled to tune in for what likely will lead to a full-on seizure.

Republicans are fun. They wear flag lapel pins. They talk about freedom and come up with new names for French fries. They like guns, Jesus and fetuses, but babies not so much.

I am not registered with a political party, but I should probably let you know that I f****** hate the Republican Party. So if you are a subscriber who juices on Republican talking points, I suggest you read no further and refrain from commenting in the comment section about Obama being the Antichrist and Democrats are Nazi Socialists and I’m a liberal, bed-wetting, crybaby AntiChrist-loving pukeface even though all those things are true.

I am not a fan of the Democratic Party either. I’m completely disillusioned by this presidency and have no hope for the future, but I still hate them less than Republicans. Here’s my analogy: The Democratic Party is like that guy you date who is kind of blah and you believe there’s probably someone better, but you stick with the blah guy because at least he’s not that awful and he sometimes says nice things, but sometimes does things that are the complete antithesis of what he says. The Republican Party is like that guy who is a total f****** douchebag.

So, yeah, things are bleak. I’m mainly biding my time until I hear the words President Bristol Palin. But until then, let’s meet the next possible president of the United States. Squee!!!

The frontrunners:

Rick "I make George W. Bush look like a mensa candidate" Perry

 

 

 

 

Mittens Romney

Crazy Eyes

 

 

 

 

other candidates:

Rick Santorum

Ron Somethingorother, the media continues to pretend he is not real

Collective random awful guys

Okay, it’s on. And I’ve missed a significant portion of the beginning. It takes some time drawing these elaborate pictures. Here is what was said in the beginning by all the candidates…blah blah Ronald Reagan blahdebloo blahdeblee, hey you there, vote for me!

Now please read this substantive summary of what was said:

Rick S. – “I’m the best.” Jobs. His last name means this.

Pizza guy – eliminate tax code, 9-9-9 tax on everything. Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!

Gov. Random Orange Face – China question. Booorrrrrrrr-iiinnnggggggggg.

Michele Bachmann – “Obamacare! Obamacare!” She went to restaurants. These restaurants aren’t hiring this one 17-year-old for a summer job. She raised 5 kids and 23 (!) foster kids. “Kids need jobs.” Clearly her kids do.

Ron Somethingorother – …

Juice Newton Gingrich  – Obama is a socialist and class warfarist. Check Newton out on Twitter, Newton is beloved on Twitter.

Mittens ala Orange Face- his polka-dot tie is hypnotizing me. I can’t concentrate on what he’s saying. He’s talking about ???

Rick P. -Those folks, focus on stuff, social security is a ponzi scheme *shit-eating grin*

Okay so I’m posting before the debate ends, but I’m confident it will end in this way blah blah Ronald Reagan blahdeblee blahdebloo, we are all doomed.