I'm back... Mostly

It seems like I left for a week and my whole blogging existence changed. I thought I stayed up to date on my Twitter at the very least while I was on vacation, but while reading the written orgy that was going between those bloggers that I am closest to, I realized just how wrong I am.

Very, very wrong, but not nearly as wrong as they are. Heh.

I have a To Do list at work that reads like a list of Hugh Hefner's book of blonde conquests, neverending, but special in every way. Also? A tad ridiculous and ego inflating.

I even did a few scenes for an informercial and as it turns out, I totally missed my calling and I should be the next Billy Mays, only better looking and less facial hair. Oh and with smaller boobs. And Billy never had to tangle with an orange construction barrel like I did.

Which, I'm going to be totally pissed if that barrel gets best supporting actor, because it also turns out that I'm a method actor who had to really get in the zone to pretend like spray cleaning products suck a big one and I'm all about the disposable wipes, bitches. So to get in the spirit of it, I had to think of that commercial where the chick cleans her counters with the raw chicken because that seriously makes me gag in the most major way. Yeah, I totally turned that mother out.

We also have the cleanest microwave in the world at work now. Even though I nailed each scene in only 3 takes or less. So suck that construction barrel. Also? One of the partners in my company was running around in that very same barrel yesterday, while donning black tights because he was the smalles guy that would fit inside.

Who needs a raise when you have that mental image. Well, technically? Me, but whatever.

Finally, I thought I'd wrap up this next winner of the Caldecott Medal (yes, I know, it goes to picture books, my point exactly) with a few observations I made while on vacation:

If you stay in a hotel that is next to a tent revival that features a man named Leroy Jenkins, you are in for some of the finest people watching you could wish for.

If you think you have fat thighs, go to Disney World.

If you think your kid is sent directly from Satan and that no kid in the world could embarrass you more, then hang with my kid at the Magic Kingdom, sans nap. I've never received so much pity in my whole life.

Not even when I crapped myself at work one day.

Oh and finally, let me just put this out there, flying AirTran is for chumps and sadists.