My husband and I just spent the weekend preparing for, throwing, and then cleaning up after our daughter’s birthday party. We’re exhausted. We’re at our wits’ end. We’re also DONE with cute little pink things and in dire need of some smoky, pornography-ridden, all-adult zone where there isn’t a single drink that comes in less than one hundred and twenty proof.
So if any of my readers know where to hook us up with that last part minus the twelve hour flight to Amsterdam I’m down. My husband said he’ll show you his boobs in return.
Also! I would like to slather every party guest with profuse thanks for abstaining from gifting my daughter with an item spawned by the whole sickeningly-cute-Disney-princess-craze. Because really? If I end up schlepping my kids to a Disney On Ice show like, ever? I’m going to hunt down and murder the person who introduced it to our household.
…and since this post isn’t rambley enough I figure I might as well ask: What the hell happened to my blog? I read through a few of my recent posts and it seems like there was a time when I was cruising along all ranting and cursing and happy when suddenly this turned into a full-on mommy blog. I mean, cute kid pictures? Field trips? WTF?
In order to remedy developing notions that I might have a side softer than the cast-iron spikes that line Chuck Norris’ underwear I give you this, which I like to be pictured yelling while swigging moonshine and throwing lawn darts around a McDonald’s Playland:
FUCK! DAMN! (ad lib, ad lib) SHIT! PISS! HELL! I’VE GOT YOUR SAFE WORD RIGHT HERE! FUCKING FUCKERS FUCKING FUCKED! (gratuitous cursing) DAMMIT ALL TO HELL!!!! (more ad lib cursing) DONKEY SHOW! I’LL SURRENDER MY ATTENTION SPAN TO REGIS & KELLY WHEN ALIENS PRY MY BRAIN FROM MY COLD, DEAD GREY MATTER! CARE BEARS WERE MADE TO BE FRIED AND EATEN!
Oh, and the pairing of John Cougar Mellencamp and Chevy is a sign that the end times are upon us. That is all. Goodbye.