Ok so I’m not so good at posting regularly. It’s not that there’s nothing to blog about. I am just incredibly lazy sometimes really busy lately. And you know, once it’s been a week or so, I start thinking that I have to come up with something really kickass to make up for taking such a long break. And then I start obsessing about that and psych myself out and before you know it–it’s been two weeks since your last post, dumbass.
And since it’s already been so long, why not wait another week? It can’t possibly matter anyway, right? Why not go work on the dozens of hours of tripe clogging up the DVR? Or why not go play another hand of spider solitaire? Don’t forget to work in some Wii Fit too. And you know you need to catch up on your blogs because you’re about 600 posts behind on Andrew Sullivan alone.
And then my head explodes. Luckily, my mother always said that when your head explodes, you pick up the pieces and have a highly skilled surgeon reattach them. And if you can’t afford a highly skilled surgeon, just attempt it yourself. It can’t possibly be that hard, right? That’s what she said. Because she can be very wise sometimes. Are we still talking about my mom?
So anyway, welcome back.
See, this is why I’m jealous of the wife. She can take a simple thing like somebody dropping a dime in the drive-thru and turn it into a whole blog post. And I bet she wrote that in about a minute and a half. I just can’t do that. I’m lucky if I can squeeze out more than two posts in a week. Kelly comes home from work and offhandedly says “somebody dropped a dime in the drive-thru” and I immediately know that the following morning she will have a perfectly polished story ready to post. I guess that’s her process.
Mine involves racking my brain for a blogworthy topic (usually on the way home from work or late at night). Next, I save any ideas as notes in my phone’s notepad as soon as possible so I don’t forget them (Today’s note said “Turd in the machine.” Seriously). Then I take the idea (the “turd,” if you will) and insert it into my mind (let’s call it the “machine”). After the machine flips and turns and stretches and squeezes and polishes and reworks the turd several dozen times, a slightly shinier turd comes rolling down the conveyor belt at the other end of the machine.
I pick up the enhanced turd (careful, it’s still hot) and start typing. This is when the magic happens. After much writing and editing and restarting and editing some more, I give up and push the “publish” button and, if all went well, there’s a beautiful shimmering turd on the screen.
If not, you get this.
I was gonna write the most awesome post ever today. It was about a paper that Big D wrote at school about his summer vacation. It was awesome. Unfortunately, I can no longer find the paper and it’s not the kind of thing that I can just recreate here. You’d have to see it for yourself in all its glory with Big D’s second-grader handwriting and misspelled state names and awesomeness and warts and all to truly appreciate it. I’m blaming the wife. She probably threw it out when she was cleaning the house. Stupid sparkly clean house.
So then I was gonna write about the wife’s shitty first day of school. More specifically, I was gonna write about how she was freaking out because she couldn’t get her books and the school’s server was down so she couldn’t log in to her classes and yes as a matter of fact it is the end of the world asshole and… then I decided it probably wouldn’t be appropriate to say such things because she would most likely kill me. Stupid will to live.
So then I thought I’d just do one of those lame posts that’s nothing more than a rundown of the things I did today. You know what I’m talking about:
This morning I woke up. After breakfast, I farted twice. Then I went to work. Around noon, I took a healthy dump, ate lunch, and farted three more times. Drove home, two farts, then dinner. Should I see a doctor, internetters? Probably. Should I tell you every minuscule detail of my life? Probably not. I guess I’ll just go to bed now. Oops, there’s another fart. I’m signing off now. The end.*
I thought better of that one as well. Stupid foresight.
So here ya go. This is it. This is all I have for you today. Fart jokes. I’m so sorry.
*Surprisingly enough, this is EXACTLY how my entire day went. I didn’t have to make any of that up.**
**Yes, of course, I’m kidding. That’s not how my day went at all. I only farted seven times today. The eighth one was pure hyperbole.
1. Big D checked out a library book a couple of months ago and we can’t find it anywhere. We’ve just been renewing it online and hoping that it shows up one of these days.
2. I got four comments on my last post! That’s quite an achievement for me. The wife is so jealous it hurts.
3. School started yesterday around here. It’s always obvious that school has started because as soon as I pull out of our neighborhood on the way to work in the morning, I’m immediately in a mile-long traffic jam. But I never see an actual school bus.
4. The wife is probably gonna kick my ass for saying that she’s jealous of my blog. Oh wait, my super-kick-ass blog. What can I say? The truth hurts. Suck it up.
5. I do have to give the wife credit for the list thing. She has her Listy McListerson thing and I’m totally jocking on her bitch ass.
Filed under Lists, Random
So the wife thought it would be a good idea if I started my own blog instead of just criticizing hers all the time. Not that I’m critical of hers–just helpful with pointing out typos and stuff.
And knowing the wife, I’m sure that this will turn into some kind of sick competition thing where she compares her blog to mine and rubs my nose in the fact that she has more readers. And comments. And posts. And whatever else she can outblog me on.
I’m sure she outshines me in pretty much every blog category that exists. And that’s okay. I mean, what the hell do I know? After all, this is my first post ever. For crying out loud.