Regaining My Self Respect And Keeping Yours Intact

Please don't call the authorities - It's all sarcasm and again, I don't own a gun.


You may have noticed that Blogland is a special place. A place filled mystical fairies, possible hobbits and trolls of the nastiest, high school ice queen nature. Another magical thing about Blogland is that on a whim the tides will turn from blue to red and new rules and laws are made up. Out of nowhere some great voice will speak and say it's time to do this and bloggers everywhere do that very thing.

You may have noticed in the hollows and glens on Monday that it was Delurking Day. In my usual, go against the flow, sort of way I ignored it. I tend to go against the flow a lot because again? I hate myself and like to make my days as hard as I possibly can. It builds character and puts hair on your chest. And if there's one thing that all girls should have, it's a hairy chest.... Oh and a pony! Who doesn't want a pooping pony?

I didn't actually ignore it to be 'against the grainy'. I ignored it because the way I figure it (nice, Missouri-talk), if you want to read this luke warm mess and pretend that you don't, then you have that right. I mean you don't call your mother and tell her you're buying sex toys and porn, do you? I mean come on? What self respecting individual would admit that they read this? I barely admit that I write it. Mostly because I don't so much write it as I sit down and puke it out all over my keyboard.

If you wanted to comment on this crud, you would, right? More than likely you want to read it and then hang your head in shame as you click over to the next self-respecting blog. I don't blame you. I write it, hang my head, drink a beer and talk to my therapist. Then I climb to the top of the house with a shot gun, threaten to take myself out, randomly shoot out a few car windows, continue to drink until I start to cry. Cry until I become a big snotty mess, shove my hair out of my face and then climb back down to relative safety and go to bed only to do it all again the next day.

And speaking of mass suicide/homicide. American Idol started last night. I have watched this drivel every year since the very first, when I started watching it half way through the season. One night I was newly separated, drunk, feeling sorry for myself and had 3 channels on my 19" TV to partake in. Bleary-eyed, I started watching and didn't stop until now.

I turned it on for a few minutes last night and realized that suddenly I have a soul or something and I kind of value it and watching the judges tear losers to shreds seems not as much fun as it used to. Or? Perhaps it's just that it's schmaltzy and makes me feel like I'm covered in network, prime-time slime. Whatever.

I instead turned on America's Funniest Home Videos which my son adores and fondly calls VIDEOS and shouts and points and laughs at all of Bob Saget/Tom Bergeron's jokes, mostly because everyone has an audience and he's theirs. Well I should say that he's only Bob Saget's audience when Disney writers feed him lame ass lines, because otherwise, he's even lamer and more foul-mouthed than even, oh, say, me!

Now think about what I just said. I turned off American Idol to watch America's Funniest Home Videos - This is either a huge step forward or the biggest back slide in TV watching evolution ever.

Well my dear, non-delurking readers - It's about time for mama to grab the ol' shot gun and trek on up to the roof. If you need me I'll be slamming a 30 pack of Natural Light and shooting squirrels that remind me of Ryan Seacrest. I hope I have enough bullets.