PS.  My friend MariaMelee is truly amazing and her roach spray review was like the Iliad of roach spray reviews.   She’s awesome.  I’m going to go to bed now.

This week on Ask the Bloggess:

• Sexomnia:  No one’s falling for it, asshole.
• I was on a lot of drugs when I wrote this but it’s still vaguely valid.

This week on my sex column (which is satirical and relatively safe for work if your boss isn’t a douche canoe):

• How Nina Hartley became my new best friend.

This week on the internets:

• I was on twitter too much.

This week on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle:

• My daughter, the scientist
• Buckle up, buttercup.

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

• If Murdered. If you die, make sure you have a voice.
• Axe Cop.  ”That 5 year old writes better than you do.”  Thanks Victor.
• Flawless.

This week’s wrap-up sponsored by the teams at Mamavation & EarthFootwear who probably spent the day rescuing drowning kittens.

Huh.  Do I want you to remind me of my dead aunt’s death again next year?  Well, of course I do. Why wouldn’t I want you to bring up this painful event with an annual “Hey-your-aunt-is-still-dead” reminder?  Who would turn that down?  Nobody, I bet.

Also, my Aunt Ollene was awesomely funny and every Christmas she would give my sister and I enormous granny-panties and a roll of nickels.  Every year.  For like 20 years.  And the underpants were so big that Lisa and I used to pull them up to our armpits and pretend they were strapless leotards.  Also, I’m fairly sure that the nickels were given to us ironically because it’s not like this was back in the olden days when people really liked nickels.  I don’t actually remember a time when people wanted nickels.  I’m not actually that old.  Also, this post is rambling and makes no sense.  Probably because I’m grieving.  Stop judging me.

PS.  Hang on.  I bet that reminder thing is probably for when someone you don’t actually like dies.  Then you can have a happy reminder once a year that whoever you never liked is still dead.  Unless he was really just in a deep coma and comes out of it during the funeral and he’s pissed off that you didn’t pick out a nice enough casket for him and he storms out and disowns you and now you have to pay for a funeral that no one actually enjoyed.  Then it’s just a painful reminder for everyone involved.

I just got back from Target.  The bawls have been removed.  They’ve been replaced with nuts.

I couldn't even make this shit up, y'all.

Honestly, it’s like the magical shelf of things-to-make-Jenny-suspect-she’s-being-videotaped.

And I actually went and looked for the Bawls since so many people said I should try them but I couldn’t find them anywhere and when the clerk asked me if I need help I said “Um…I’m looking for bawls?” and he said “Like, tennis balls?” and then I said “Yes.  Exactly like tennis balls” because I couldn’t even make myself say “No.  I’m looking for the kind of bawls you drink” and I considered pulling out my phone to just show him the picture I’d taken of their bawls last week but it seemed even more awkward to ask someone to wait while you scroll through your camera-phone photos to find the one you’d taken of their bawls.  I’m sure all the people at Target had a great laugh about this later since they are obviously doing this on purpose just to fuck with me.

Why?  Remember back in January of 2009 when I invented kitten-mittens? Remember? And you said it was awesome? Fuck. Hang on. Here’s a snippet of the post to jog your memory:

…I also came up with another idea to re-purpose used breast-pumps to suck dead kittens inside out because then…TA DA!…fur-lined mittens for homeless people. I told my friend Kregg about it and he was all “That’s…weird” and I’m all “It’s weird that no one’s ever thought of it before. Because no one wants dead kittens or used breast-pumps so this way we’d be keeping them both out of the landfills and we’d be helping the homeless. It’s practically carbon zero!” Then Kregg mentioned something about PETA and firebombs and I was all ”I’d only use kittens that were already dead from non-communicable diseases, Kregg. I wouldn’t just go around haphazardly turning live kittens inside-out. I’m not a monster, for God’s sake” and frankly I’m a little insulted I even had to clarify that. I’m doing this to help the homeless. Not for my own personal kitten-mitten collection. I live in Texas, y’all. I don’t even need mittens.

And then I applied for a grant to make the kitten-mittens but they haven’t responded so all the kitten-mittens I’ve made have come out of my own pocket.  Because I’m a fucking philanthropist.  (Also, in the interest of full transparency I haven’t actually made any kitten mittens yet but I did once  scalp and dismember a stuffed rabbit to make an Easter outfit for my kid and that’s pretty damn close.)

Oh, stop judging me. She looks adorable.

Bottom-line?  No grant funding.  Homeless people are still freezing.  Cats are still being wasted. And I can only assume that all of this happened because I’ve been lost in the shuffle since so many people ARE STEALING MY IDEAS.

Exhibit 1:

My ten-year old niece who won a Young Inventors competition for inventing “Crazy Climbers”, which are gloves that sounds suspiciously like “kitten mittens” and are actually mittens. YOU COULD NOT BE MORE OBVIOUS, GABI.

Also, SHE'S WEARING A SHIRT WITH A FUCKING KITTEN ON IT. She's totally mocking me here.

It’s going to hurt me to sue her but it’s still going to happen.  I love you but this is what happens when you mess with family, Gabi.  Go watch The Godfather.

Exhibit 2:

When you google “kitten-mittens” I’m not even on the first page.  Instead it’s just pages of links to this video from “It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia”.

And you can see how they tried to avoid a copyright issue by spelling their kitten mittens as “kitten- mittons.” I’m sorry but no.  No one’s falling for it, assholes.
Exhibit 3:

Natalie Dee’s kitten-slipper comic from last week:

This one hurts the most because I actually really like Natalie Dee.  And also because it’s sort of brilliant.  I mean, why stop with kitten-mittens when you can move to kitten-booties?  It was the next logical step and I failed to make it.  So I guess this one’s on me.  But still, I’m suing Natalie because I bet she’d be fun to hang out with in court.  Do you get sit next to the people you’re suing?  Because that would be awesome.

Also, I just want to point out that I do understand that sometimes people can come up with the same idea without it actually being “stealing” because once when I was eating peanuts I invented peanut-butter.  Because basically that’s how you get peanut butter.  Just by chewing up peanuts.  I bet when the first person was all “Hey everybody!  I just invented peanut-butter!” and spit out a big wad of peanuts he’d been chewing everybody else was all “Are you fucking kidding?  We’ve been doing that for years, buddy” and he was all “Yeah, but I just named it.  I win.”  And that man’s name was Peter Pan.  Or possibly Jiffy.  I don’t know.  We didn’t study peanut-butter history at my school.

Comment of the day: Well congratulations, comment guy. You fucking win, you jerk. Excuse me while I finish my depressing blog about kids with cancer. Fucking dick.  ~ Just A Girl

Part 1: I get elected into Government according to the Shorty Awards.  I point out I’m not actually in the Government.  My ratings go higher and I somehow end up in 1st place.  It is awesome in its ridiculousness.

Part 2: On the day before the voting period closes, the Shorty Award people unceremoniously kick me out of the Government category and nullify hundreds of votes.  The assumption is that I’ve been disqualified because I’m not actually in the Government but then the Mayor of Martindale takes a stand for justice and appoints me as an official Czar (of Nothingness) for the city of Martindale.  Also, they promote C.C. the cat (who lives in City Hall) to Czar of Czars making her, in effect, my new boss.

C.C.: "I can haz you arrested if you continue to disrespect my authority, bastards." (Disclaimer: I'm not entirely certain Czars can have people arrested but I assume they probably can.)

I submit a formal complaint to the Shorty Awards, which is soundly ignored.  Martindale goes down in history as the most kick-ass town in the history of ever and single-handedly renews my faith in Government.

Part 3:  I decide to send a letter to Natan, a representative of the Shorty Awards to clear all of this up…

Hi Natan,

I know you’re part of the Shorty Award contest management team and apparently I was disqualified from the Govt. category and my 100+ votes were nullified because I wasn’t actually in the Government but prior to the end of the contest I was actually appointed a Government Official so I think you should probably reinstate all the votes you guys discounted and put me back into the finals.  I can give you the contact number for my boss at City Hall if you need to verify that I am indeed a Government official.

I’ve written about this on my site in case you need more details:
http://thebloggess.com/?p=5621

Hugs,
Jenny Lawson, current Czar of Martindale, Texas

His response:

Hi Jenny,

I’ve passed your message onto the Sawhorse team. I am deeply sorry for any inconvenience but it’s completely out of my hands.

Best,
Natan

My response:

Thanks so much for your quick response, Natan. As a member of the Government myself I understand completely your frustration at not being able to affect a change yourself because of bureaucracy. I hope that the Sawhorse team is able to remedy this as my boss at City Hall is extremely upset by this whole matter. She’s spent the last day sleeping at her desk and growling angrily whenever we try to show her updates on this very sensitive matter. Martindale Texas is small but our government officials still believe that we are every bit as important as those fat cats in Washington. I hope that the Shorty Awards people see it that way as well.

I asked my boss if she had anything to add to this email and she just glared at me and then put her head down on her desk. I think that really speaks louder than words.

Thanks again for your help and sympathy in this important matter.

~Jenny, serious Government official

The Shorty Award response:

Jenny,

Congratulations on your new position! The people of Martindale, Texas are clearly the real winners in the Shorty Awards.

However, our decision is final.

We hope you’ll participate next year after a full year of service.

Thank you for writing,

The Shorty Team

My response:

Dear Shorty Awards:

To say I am disappointed in this travesty would be an understatement. However, as with any election there are bound to be flaws and I am hopeful that next year you will not allow yourself to be blinded again by the devastatingly boring status-quo, or to be bribed by NASA. I’m not sure which of these happened this time but I assume it’s the latter. I am, however, willing to mend these fences by presenting the Shorty Award in Government as I am more than qualified, being a Czar in-good-standing. I’m fairly certain you aren’t going to have any other Czars offering to be a presenter at your award ceremony. Please send me plane fare immediately. Also, if you are looking for someone with more political swagger, my boss might be able to present the award but to be honest she’s not that much of a talker and she’s not exactly your biggest fan. Also you’d need to set up a satellite link for her as she never leaves City Hall. That’s how dedicated she is to our Government.

Martindale Texas for the win.

Your public servant,
Jenny, Current Czar and probably future President.

So far?  No response.  I’m not even sure what the point of being a Czar is anymore.

*****************************************************

On a completely unrelated note, it’s Sunday which means it’s time for my weekly wrap-up:

This week on Ask the Bloggess:

• My neighbors overreacted and are refusing to speak to me.
• My new favorite word.

This week on my sex column (which is satirical and relatively safe for work if your boss isn’t a douche canoe):

• Do not make a sex tape, you idiot.

This week on the internets:

• Not much.  Too busy being a Czar.

This week on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle:

• What you’re doing matters.

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

• Unhappy Hipsters
• What my  new boss would look like if she was Japanese and had to take a lot of business trips.

Okay, remember a couple of weeks ago when I blogged about how bizarrely awesome it was that I was in second place in the coveted position of “Top Government Twitterer” in the Shorty Awards even though I’m not actually in the Government at all and then I even changed my avatar so that people would know that I’m not in the Government but people kept voting because I think people assume that a vote for me is a vote for how ridiculous popularity contests are?  Yeah, I don’t either.  That’s how long ago that was.  But it’s still going on and when I checked this week I was in second place.  Today the votes close and I never mentioned that on twitter because honestly I think we’re all a bit tired of seeing nominations all over the place but I went to see if I was still in the top 5 and I wasn’t.  I assumed it was because real Governmental twitterers had been deluged with votes and I was fine with that but then I looked a little closer and found that I HAD BEEN BANNED FROM THE CATEGORY ALTOGETHER.  And the 100+ votes for me for Government were all stricken from the record.  And in truth, if this was strictly a popular vote contest I’d understand why the Shorty Award people would want to get rid of me in case I accidentally won because it would make them look stupid but the truth is that a committee chooses the final winners so there was no reason to not let those votes just stand.  I call “shenanigans”.

But the Shorty Awards are falling back on a rule that I never actually saw before today which states that “Nominations that are not relevant within official categories will be removed” but first off, let me say that I was once selected for Jury Duty and although I didn’t actually get picked I’m pretty sure that counts as being part of the Government.  Apparently that’s not good enough for the Shorty Awards.  Because they hate civil service.  Or someone paid them off.  I mean, I don’t know.  I don’t actually know how voter fraud works.  But what I do know though is that the Government is run for the people, by the people and as of today I’m one of those people because a few minutes ago I was officially appointed the Official Government Coordinator of Useless Projects by Loraine Harrison, Mayor of Martindale, Texas.  Not a joke, y’all.  That.  Just.  Happened. And while technically it’s an unpaid position with no real power it does still make me an actual member of the Government.  And it’s a kick-ass job because Martindale is so efficiently run that we don’t even HAVE any useless projects so it’s basically my job to make sure I don’t actually ever have any duties. Done. Plus, Texas Chainsaw Massacre was filmed in Martindale.  So yeah. It’s totally bad-ass.

So this is the part where I demand that the Shorty Awards reinstate all the votes they so capriciously dismissed and return the power where it belongs….to the people. Who will use that power for ridiculously frivilous purposes, like making sure that our votes are counted and shouting “WOLVERINES!” in crowded subways just to celebrate the joy of chaos and inanity.  Because we can.  Yes.  We.  Can.

PS.  No joke.  The Mayor of Martindale will be appearing at the Mom 2.0 Summit next month to publicly induct me.  I have to supply my own crown though.  Also there will be some sort of certificate.  It is my fondest hope that it reads “Official Government Coordinator of Useless Projects and Bad Motherf-er.” I’m fine with just the first part though.  I can write the rest in with a sharpie.

PPS.  Hang on.  A few other elected officials had to weigh in and they’re all cool with it but they do think I need an actual duty so whenever I’m in Martindale it’s my job to keep track of C.C., the cat that lives at City Hall.  Because there’s a stray cat that lives in city hall and sleeps on the Administrator’s desk.  BECAUSE MARTINDALE IS THE MOST BAD ASS CITY EVER.

This has been a weird day.

UPDATE: Day two and so far, no response from the Shorty Award people even after I submitted a formal complaint on behalf of justice and democracy everywhere.  And to be honest, I’m a little disappointed.  This is an organization that appointed MC Hammer to be a part of the deciding committee so clearly they are taking this just as seriously as I am.  Still, they refuse to acknowledge me or even issue a restraining order against me.  To be blunt, it’s a little insulting to all of us.  Also, I was just informed that they have also stricken all of Neil Gaiman’s votes for “Customer Service” even though he had been leading that category ever since he announced his candidacy for that position because he also believes in not staying in the pre-conceived box people want to put you in.  Neil is still in first place for Literature which is, naturally, very fitting but is also such an obvious choice that I’m bored just saying it out loud.  In short, Neil was robbed.

Also, the Mayor of Martindale met with city officials and in order to make my role in the government less easy for the Shorty Awards to ignore they have decided to change my title to “Czar”.  My full title will be “Czar of Nothingness” so that I can’t actually hurt anything but it’s actually fine because now whenever someone asks you what you’re doing and you say “nothing” I think that means I’m your boss.  Also, they appointed the cat that lives at City Hall as the “Czar of Czars” so basically the cat is my boss.  I’ve had worse.

PS.  I am officially in love with Martindale, Texas and I’m not just saying that because my boss lives there.

PPS.  I’ve changed my twitter avatar in response to the Shorty Awards who are still avoiding eye-contact with me.

It's like if Betsy Ross had had access to photoshop.

UPDATED X 2: Okay, so my friend Laura was actually in Martindale while all of this was going down and she was able to both witness and capture the meeting where the city officials decided to make me a czar.

Direct quote from Laura's email: "Mayor Harrison, The City Manager and the City Attorney are having a meeting about you in these photos (not even kidding). The Czar of Czars (CC) is sleeping during this important meeting."

Also she was able to send me a picture of C.C.:

My new boss: "WHY ARE YOU SUCH A DISAPPOINTMENT TO ME?!"

Laura assures me that he was just yawning but it looks a lot like he’s shouting maniacally at me.  Awesome.  I’m in trouble already.

Comment of the day: Um. I hate to break this to you, but David Archuletta IS STILL NOMINATED AS FOOD.  If this doesn’t call for revolution or some type of cannibalism, I’m not sure what does.  Ten bucks says he tastes of burnt walnuts. ~ moooooog35

It's pronounced exactly how you think it's pronounced.

This is when I realized that Target is obviously just fucking with me.

No, Target.  Sorry. Not falling for it.  I’m not even going to touch your bawls.

Comment of the day:  OMG…just went to Bawls website to see where to find it besides Target, and it listed all the chains…

You can get blue Bawls at Kum & Go. ~ Markira

Um...what?

And yes, Google, I realize that this is less of a judgement that you’re making about me and more of a result of the hordes of dumb people using you but maybe you could wait until I finish the question before you jump to some horrific conclusion about what I’m asking.  Or not.

Not. Helpful.

Honestly, at this point I was a little offended.  But I kept going, thinking that this would eventually have to stop.

Are you fucking kidding me?

And now I’m just baffled.  Where on earth are there so many ostriches that we need to google it? I honestly don’t know.  But what I do know is that after reading that all I can think of is that it would suck to live there and I couldn’t concentrate because I couldn’t stop wondering why this was even a suggested question and so then I had to google “why are there so many ostriches” just to see what would happen.  And then *BAM* I just became part of the problem. WTF, me? And you know what I learned?  Nothing.  It took me to this web page about ostriches where I learned that ostriches have been clocked going really fast.  Direct quote:

“It had probably just huffed a cheetah kitten (sends you through a psychedelic wonderland at like a kajillion mph and ur not even halfway there. Despite this ability to run like the wind, the ostrich cannot lay claim to performing what any fast running bird-like creature ought to be able to do – take-off.  They have fat asses and abnormally small brains but they are kinda smart. This inability to pass from the running stage to the take-off mode is considered to be a design fault that may lead to the eventual extinction of this oversized dodo. They are kinda smart, but DO NOT, DO NOT, let an ostrich kick you, it will completely FUCK YOU UP.   IT WILL SHATTER ALL THE BONES IN YOUR BODY AND MAKE YOU BE PITYED BY MR. T, THUS INCREASING THE INJURY. DO NOT GET KICKED BY AN OSTRICH. I AM TELLING YOU, IT WILL FUCK YOU UP.”

So yeah.  There’s that.

PS.  I still don’t know why there are 12 days of Christmas.  I don’t even care any more.  I’m going to lie down and cry now.  Someone fix Google.

Comment of the day: I started to Google ‘I like’ and the following came up:  “I like to think of Jesus as a mischievous badger”.  Preaching to the choir, my friend. Preaching to the choir. ~ moooooog35

This morning my friend Kevin sent me this picture.  Because it reminded him of me:

And then I vowed never to speak to Kevin again because I’m pretty much unoffendable but there is actually a line and that line is babies-being-impaled by-penises-through-their-solar-plexuses and I was all “THAT SHIT IS DISTURBING, KEVIN. NEVER EMAIL ME AGAIN” but then he called me and was like “What’s wrong with you?” and I’m all “What is wrong with you?! Why would you even send me that?” and he’s all “Um…because it’s hysterical?” and I yelled “YOU SICK FUCK” and then he took me off speaker-phone and was all “Why are you yelling at me? This is totally your kind of thing” and I screamed “OBVIOUSLY YOU DON’T KNOW ME AT ALL, KEVIN” and then he was like “Hang on…you think that’s a penis, don’t you?” and I was all “um…yes, because it is a penis” and he was like “WTF, Jenny? Have you ever even seen a penis?  Penises don’t have teeth” and I was all “You are making this worse.” And then he sighed and demanded that I go look at the picture again.  And I did.

And it turns out I owe Kevin an apology because it’s actually a baby in a chicken suit with an alien bursting out of his belly, which I kind of understand because when my kid was that age we put her in a cow costume and I was all “Something’s missing. Probably some sort of phallic alien eating through the baby’s sternum”. So this is me, alien baby parents, applauding you. Also, in the future I’d appreciate it if any pictures sent to me had a disclaimer stating “This is not a penis”.  Unless it is a penis.  Then maybe don’t send that picture.  Unless it’s a penis I really need to see.  I don’t know.  Just use your best judgement.  There aren’t any formal rules on this sort of thing.

*********************************

On a completely unrelated note, I didn’t do my weekly wrap-up on Sunday because something more important came up so I’m adding it here:

Last week on Ask the Bloggess:

• Bedazzled vaginas: Proof that Hollywood is just fucking with you.
• I’m not pregnant, asshole.

This week on my sex column (which is satirical and relatively safe for work if your boss isn’t a douche canoe):

• Magic words that make him tell you the truth (about where your socks are)

This week on the internets:

• This blog was named a finalist in the 2010 Bloggies for Best Writing on a blog and Most Humorous blog.  Immediately afterward I posted about my friend trying to commit suicide and then the post right after that contains possibly the most poorly-written conversation about aliens-that-look-like-penises ever published.  People finding my blog for the first time are probably very confused right now.

This week on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle:

• I need a secretary.
• I have a weird job.

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

• Sleep talkin’ man
• “Uhura has actual lines? Oh good Christ, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do here.”

Comment of the day: I prefer my version.  (My daughter was not harmed in the making of this photo.) ~ Pete

Jon said he’d be reading the blog if he could bribe his nurse to access the internet again and so I’m leaving a copy of my email to him here because I want him to see it, and I want you to see it too because it’s important:

Oh Jon, You made me cry. I do understand. Completely. And if I was there I would hug you and then slap you. Because suicide isn’t an option. If I don’t get to do it then no one does. Those are the rules. And also, when people commit suicide I get suicidal so next time you even think of it you need to remember that I have a whole host of drugs here that I shouldn’t even be allowed to be by. I’m dangerous so I need you to be sane. No pressure.

You bring light and laughter into the universe and there is far too little of that here to begin with. Remember that picture you sent me of you as a naked reindeer wearing only a single Christmas sock? I still have it. I don’t keep all my emails. Only the funny ones. You are special and I’m not just saying that.

This too shall pass. I promise. And if you try to commit suicide again I will cut you. Unless you tried by cutting your wrists. Then I’ll just punch you and yell a bit while I wrap your favorite shirt around your wrists. There. You just ruined your favorite shirt with your blood, Jon. This is why suicide sucks. We all lose. We lose our favorite shirts.

Love,

me

PS. This is the worst letter ever but I know you’ll understand it. And this is exactly the reason why you must get better and carry on. There are far too few people in the world that I can send sarcastic emails to while they recover from a suicide attempt in a psych ward.

Don’t let me down, Jon. The world needs you.

Comment of the day: The Black Hole engulfs many. I spent 3 hours one afternoon when I was 53 years old, trying to figure out how to commit suicide without my children knowing it was suicide. The younger one was still in high school. What saved me? Anger. To be hoodwinked by the liar that is major depression does not make you a lesser person. It can happen to almost anyone in the right circumstances. Get mad enough to blow up the world, and then get silly, and then get joyful. You have the right. Love to all who have been down this road and who know others who have been down it. There IS a way out. ~ Beth

Dear woman sitting next to me while I watched Avatar:

What.

the fuck.

is wrong with you?

I can only assume that your husband is both deaf and moronic because I can’t think of any other reason why else you would feel the need to loudly state what’s going on during the movie WHILE WE’RE ALL WATCHING IT HAPPEN ON THE SCREEN. And it was weird because you both seemed perfectly fine when you first sat down next to me, aside from totally ignoring the unstated “there-must-be-one-chair-in-between-all-strangers-in-bars-and-theaters” rule.  But then you started loudly remarking unimportant bullshit about the commercials using your normal speaking voice.  I mean personally, I stop talking as soon as the previews begins but I know there aren’t any formal rules about this so I tried to just ignore you.  You made it really hard though when the Clash of the Titans preview showed Zeus yelling to “Release the Kraken!” and you said, “Wow. That cracker looks like a bad-ass.”

Really? Did that just happen?  I know it did because my husband looked at me with these wide eyes like “Holy shit did you just hear that?” and technically I was actually fine with that because I knew we’d have a good laugh about it later.  Just like years ago when we were watching the trailer for Malcolm X and the dude behind us said “Who the fuck is Malcolm Ten?”  That kind of idiocy is almost worthwhile because it’s 11 years later and we’re still able to mock that guy, but sadly you peaked early and I had to watch the rest of the movie with a built-in commentary of what I now refer to as “What-Stupid-People-Are-Thinking”.

And guess what?  ShutTheFuckUp, THAT’S WHAT.  Yes, I know the main character is in a wheel-chair.  We all do.  WE’RE ALL FUCKING WATCHING IT.  It’s on a huge screen happening right in front of us right now. YOU AREN’T ADDING ANYTHING.

Just a few examples of you ruining my willing-suspension-of-disbelief…

Actual scene: A character says they’re about to seeing the famous floating mountains.  Then we see floating mountains.

You: Are those mountains floating?

Scene: Character wears a shirt.  It’s the same shirt that’s been in all of the commercials.  None of this is a surprise.

You: He’s wearing a shirt.

Scene: A three second black-out signifies the end of a big scene.  The scene takes place in broad daylight.

You: It’s nighttime now.

Scene: Incredibly-obvious villain does evil villain stuff.

You: I don’t trust that guy.

Scene: A character dies.  Every. single. person onscreen acknowledges that the character is now dead.

You: Oh.  I don’t think that person’s gonna make it.

How am I supposed to willingly lose myself in a movie when you won’t shut the fuck up? Did you know that I’ve never told anyone to be quiet in a movie theater?  True story. I just sit in silence, glowering and sighing audibly.  So last night when I turned to you and said “Really?!” it might have seemed anticlimactic but that was the equivalent of a normal person stabbing you in the head.  Honestly, even my husband was a little shocked at me.  Then when the movie ended you scurried out, probably because you guessed I was pulling Victor out after you so that I could follow you to your home and loudly explain everything that’s going on on your TV to you.  And you’d be all “Who are you?” and I’d be like “I’m here to help.  Oh, this is a good show.  It’s funny because everyone doesn’t love Raymond.  That’s the irony of this show” and you’d be like “Why are you in my house?!” and I’d be all “But then in the end you see that everybody DOES actually love Raymond.  Even though they yell at him a lot.  That’s where they trick you.”  And you’d be all “I’m calling the police” and I’d be like “THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE FOR THE REST OF THE WORLD, YOU FUCKING IMBECILE”.  Then Victor would probably make me leave.  But while he was pulling me out to the car I’d steal all of your silverware to make up for what everyone in our theater spent on their wasted movie ticket.  Then I’d kick a hole in your wall and throw a dead cat in there.  Your cat. And then we’d be even.  Mostly.

This is where I normally put the “comment of the day” but I can’t even narrow it down because they’re all so fucking awesome. Congratulations.  You all win.  (And a special thank you to Ridley for sharing this gem.)

(This is all totally true, by the way.  That’s what makes it so very awful.  FYI: Lisa is my sister.  Gabi is my niece.  My mother is a saint.)

To: Mom

Sent: 2:02pm

Weird. I can’t even get my cat to wear a condom.

~me

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To: Mom

Sent: 2:04pm

Crap! I meant “sweater“.  I can’t even get my cat to wear a SWEATER. Why did I say “condom”? What is wrong with me?

Pretend Lisa sent this.

~me

****************************************************************************

To: Mom

Sent: 2:10pm

Also, I just remembered that you said your computer won’t play videos so this whole thing is pointless.  Just trust me that the video was adorable and didn’t have anything to do with cat sex at all.

~still me

****************************************************************************

To: Mom

Sent: 2:12pm

OR ANY TYPE OF SEX.  It’s a video of a kitty getting wrapped up in Christmas paper.  OHMYGOD! SHUT UP, ME.

~ugh

*****************************************************************************

To: Mom

Sent: 2:15pm

Hi.  I apologize for being your daughter.  But really you brought this on yourself.

~ me Lisa

*****************************************************************************

To: Mom, Lisa

Sent: 2:22pm

Hi mom!

You’re going to see a bunch of emails from me in your inbox but you shouldn’t read them because they’re all infected with a terrible virus.  Which I got from Lisa.  You should really just avoid her and also any emails from her.  She’s not with you right now, is she?  Because if she is you should push her down.

~me

PS.  I found Gabi’s jacket in my car but now I’ve lost it again.  I need Lisa’s address in case I find it again.  Oh hang on, I’ll just CC Lisa on this so she can tell me.  Duh.

******************************************************************************

To: Mom, Lisa

Sent: 2:26pm

Oh.  I have made a horrible mistake.

You both should not open the emails from me in your inbox.  They are infected with a virus.  Which I got from daddy.

I love you both very, very much.

~me

PS. Lisa ~ What’s your address?  I may or may not have something to send to you but if you don’t get anything it’s your mailman’s fault and totally not mine.  You have a terrible mailman.

*******************************************************************************

So far?  No response.  Except for my sister who simply responded “You are an idiot“.  Hard to argue with that.

Comment of the day: I just sent my mom a picture of a house in Ohio where we spent 2,475 days growing up. She wrote me back and said, “Oh look, it’s that house in the Hamptons we spent the afternoon at.” ~ Suzy

This week on Ask the Bloggess:

• Elves will steal your eyes and make you fat.
• Your boyfriend is probably sleeping with his dentist.  I can help.

This week on my sex column (which is satirical and relatively safe for work if your boss isn’t a douche canoe):

• Four Things To Never Joke About With Your Man

This week on the internets:

• I don’t even know where to start with this.  I wrote a piece here called “Dear Dr. Pepper:  You’re a damn liar” and it somehow got picked up as a serious news story and I was flooded with confused commenters who were both very angry and inadvertently hysterical but then it kept getting picked up by more serious news channels and so I finally felt bad for all the people who were yelling at me for not understanding how Dr. Pepper works so I added an update explaining to people that the post was satirical and I thought that would clear shit up but it didn’t because turns out I can’t cure stupid people.   But it didn’t actually bother me because it’s kind of hilarious when people take me seriously because it’s sort of a practical joke on the world so I thought, “Meh. This’ll blow over by tomorrow.”  And then AOL POSTED IT AS A LEAD NEWS STORY:

• 

  This link leads to a story entitled "Diet Dr. Pepper Confusing Consumers" which listed me as the head of the confused-by-soda group. Awesome. This story was replaced on AOL many hours later by an equally compelling story:"Why Cat Can't Get Out of Jury Duty". None of this is a joke. For real, y'all. That happened. That's what makes it all so fucking hysterical and also a little bit sad.

This week on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle:

• Haiti needs your help.  You probably didn’t need me to tell you that.
• The Shit Handle. I once again prove why people shouldn’t ask me to review things.

This week on shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

• Opportunity not missed.
• “Do not ever email me again.”

Comment of the day: My dad still uses AOL. Like the whole software and everything. And he wonders why his computer is slow?  Dad, it’s probably because T-Rex called and wants his chat rooms back. ~ Stephanie L