Friday, July 29, 2011

I just got a great idea for a porn. This is not at all awkward to read.

"Bonerfide Hero: Captain Dick Dodders".  One scene would be these doddering old dudes barely holding themselves up on their walkers, and they're centimetering their way to the register at a donut shop.  There's this long huge line behind them of impatient assholes who don't respect the feeble [slow as fuck] elderly, but they're not about to get arrested for assault of a senior either, so they just stand there huffing and eye-rolling and wishing they had just gone in front of those walkers when there was more space to do so without it being OBVIOUS they were cutting in line. 

So anyway, there's this one guy in the very back, a young guy.  It's a porn don't forget, and he's the villain, so he's wearing some painted on latex villain suit, with his junk hanging out of course, and he has a utility belt full of dildos and whips.  And his name is The Whipper Snapper (get it, because he's the young guy?).  Also, he can manipulate his penis to whip and snap, because it wouldn't make sense if he couldn't do that.

The Whipper Snapper is PISSED because he wants his damn coffee and donut before he begins his day doin bad guy stuff, so he starts pushing through the line.  He knocks down this lady and he BREAKS HER STRIPPER HEEL.  Well, this is the equivalent of breaking her skull, it is NOT cool to break a stripper's heel in whatever fantasy land this story is taking place.  Let's call it Busty Years Retirement Community I guess.  So she's laying there all in distress and calling for help while The Whipper Snapper is all "Mua-ha-ha, how'd you like that hurts donut?" (thank jeebus jokes in pornos don't have to make complete sense) and keeps on storming toward the front of the line and knocking over more people.

Then.  Remember the rickety old doddering dudes who are holding up the line in the first place?  They finally turn around to see all the commotion (because you know they didn't HEAR it) and they're all WTF.  The stomp their walkers on the ground in a synchronized rhythm and it's like a scene out of Power Rangers all of a sudden, and they like form into one giant penis with walker legs and they kick the shit out of The Whipper Snapper.

Then they go pick up the damsel in distress and she's like "Oh, let me make you my bonerfied heroes!" and that's when the actually explicit stuff starts.  But who would still be interested in wacking it to a porno after a killer scene like the one I just described?!  Not me.  The end.

Oh, and a minor detail, but I'm pretty sure that 30 years old in adult movies is the equivalent of 80 in real life, so there wouldn't ACTUALLY be old wrinkly balls in this porn, so don't worry about that.  Hmm, unless I decide to take it in the fetish direction.  Decisions decisions.

I want to apologize for not doing more.  I could have done magic with the fight scene, but I'm too tired.  And turned on.

I want to write a children's book.

It will be about hygiene issues and the main character will be named Bernie Hole, and his friend Mitch N. Mianus will be curiously cropped from the waist up in all his pages and only ever show one hand.

Seriously though, I want to write a children's book specifically so that I can illustrate it.  Actually, would someone else mind just writing one for me?  And giving me all the credit?  I have no problem doing that, I am white afterall. 

A dude at work told me that since he only ever sees me on a forklift, he imagines I just drive it around everywhere and go about my daily life with this forklift connected to me.  Like I'm cooking breakfast and flipping pancakes with my forks, and wiping my butt with toilet paper on the end of my forks, and I beep as I'm backing down the front yard to put out the trash.  And I plug in my battery at night then me and the forklift cuddle up to Joe in bed.  Ha.  We decided it would be a fun kid's book, about Forklift Fiona.  Maybe it would, but I don't necessarily want to write or illustrate that book.  I think girls doing "boy stuff" would be a good focus though, because people eat that GIRL POWER shit right up.  Honestly, I don't care what it's about, I just need an excuse to use these markers I paid $200 for (I am not even fucking kidding.  This was in my child-free days of course though).

Oh, are shit, asshole and douchenozzle children's-book-appropriate words?  Someone should definitely write this for me, I don't think I'm cut out for this business.

PS  It's funny when the summary on the back of a kid's book is longer than the book itself.

PPS Ok nevermind, I'm gonna write this damn book myself.  I just need someone to give me a subject because that's the part I suck at.  GO!

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Dreamquote Chronicles

I've been stuck in the house mostly for the past 5 days or so because of a lovely stomach bug going around the house.  I'd love to go on about all the different consistencies and smells of poop I encountered this weekend, but no one else wants to hear about it (right?) so I'll spare you (unless you want to know!).  So since I haven't been experiencing real life, I don't really have anything to talk about, but I also don't feel like sleeping yet.

So here's Joe's Dreamquotes of the night so far:

"It's a spider... GET OUT FAGGOT" as he's flicking a lint ball on his pillow

"No that's a waffle.  WET! DOG!"

Well I was already aware that Joe hates spiders.  But he's a total fag hag so I'm kind of surprised he'd be using the word "faggot" in a negative way.  Or maybe there was a guy there named Faggot who is allergic to spiders and Joe was trying to save his life!  Actually, can you believe that people aren't naming their kid that yet?  With all the awful names out there??  Five dollars says some MTV Teen Mom is going to name her kid Fayget within the next 2 seasons.

As far as the waffle and the wet dog, I can't even imagine what's going on there.  I wonder what someone has mistaken for a waffle.  Hmmm, let's see, waffle-like things... the bottom of a shoe, legos, a beehive, my bare ass sitting on a lattice lawn chair... pancakes are round breakfast food, so waffle-life I guess.  I dunno, I'm completely stumped on this one.  I guess he was just worried about a wet dog shaking off and soggying up his waffle that looks like something besides a waffle.  Which I can't blame him for, but it seems like such a specific and odd thing to dream about. 

The sad part is I'll never know because Joe rarely remembers his dreams when I tell him about them the next morning.  Which seems so weird to me because I remember most of my dreams really clearly.  Last night I hulked out on some kitchen cabinets and lifted them OFF THE WALL because somehow my friend dropped her baby underneath them and couldn't reach her, and there was another about babysitting a tiny Fred Savage in my apartment with the cast of How I Met Your Mother.  Hmm, I guess I shouldn't be judging Joe's dreams as specific and odd.

Well, I've officially bored myself.  Time to give in to my droopy eyes I suppose.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Oh, there's four members of the Black Eyed Peas?

I'm awake with a stomach bug (down 2 pounds in 6 hours, HIGH FIVE!) so I figured I'd waste some time with a quick story about something I heard on the radio the other day.

There was a contest going on to meet the Black Eyed Peas, and I shit you not, this is what the announcer said.  "You could win a chance to meet Fergie,, and the other guys."  Haha!  It was hilarious because a) the radio station couldn't even take the time to investigate those guys' names because they are THAT unimportant, b) there's only TWO other guys.  It's not like it was Wu-tang and there's like 20 members to name,  and c) it takes almost as much time to say "and the other guys" as it does " and Taboo" (I just googled their names.  I don't want anyone thinking I'm a fan of them or anything.)

"Hey WeirdLookingMonkeySnakeFaceGuy and GuyWhoLooksLikeHeCouldBeAJackson, stand behind Fergie and  Now scoot back a little.  A little more.  Yeah, right behind that tree, exactly.  Ok, now everyone look high for the camera! *snap*"

PS.  I know you're jealous of my paint skillz.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Teenage mutant ninja honkies

So tonight, me and Joe and Violet are hanging out in our bed and Violet starts talking about this "him" and pointing to a corner in our room.  First she was telling him to dance with her, then she was just saying "him over there, him right there".  Then she told me he was under the bed and I moved from the edge so fast I about exploded my pants off.

So then I'm telling my friend about this creeper hanging out in my bedroom that only Violet can see but doesn't seem to be scared of, and she's all "Jesus in da house! Maybe Jesus is her homeboy too!" haha.  Honestly that doesn't make it any less creepy for me that Jesus is standing there watching me in the room I make babies in, but at least I don't have to worry about him grabbing me by my ankles and swinging me into the plaster walls repeatedly, which is how I always imagine a demon hiding under my bed would finish me off.  Anyway, I was like "What if it IS Jesus and he wakes me up and bitch slaps me in the middle of the night and is like 'I AM real!  The power of Christ compels you, BITCH!'?" because Jesus is black and bad ass in my mind, like Shaft, with a little bit of Wayne Brady.  Then my friend's husband agreed that Jesus was definitely bad ass and definitely not white, because white people are totally lame (he didn't say white people are lame, I did, sorry whiteys).  I bet Jesus actually turned that water into 40s of OE.  And hello, fish fry?

Anyway, so that got me to thinking, with the continents starting out as one big super continent (what was it called? Onomatopoeia?  Palladia?), I bet people lived all close to the equator, and didn't have any clothes or anything unless you wanna count the bag dresses fashioned out of some giant exotic leaf, so they were probably all black, or at least dark skinned right?  I'm sure I can google this to find out, but I'm too lazy, so I'm just gonna go with this theory right now that white people are a glitch in evolution or something.  How did we end up taking over?  Were the roles reversed back in the cave man days - like were black people afraid of white people?  If a white person dropped their wallet on the street did they kick it home to avoid police harassment?  Is rhythm stored in melanin and was living in the mountains really worth giving that up?

Well I went ahead and googled it and apparently it is pretty common knowledge that white folks just showed up like less than 20,000 years ago.  I had never really thought of it before though.  It's kind of crazy to look at my skin and see that I'm mayonnaise white (and thick and jiggly like it too) and then think that my ancestors are Africa black.  Although I guess it's not THAT crazy a thought if you were judging just by my ass.  I wonder if, with the o-zone depleting, if we'll eventually all go back to black?  Then never go back?

Monday, July 18, 2011

Why I'll never follow through with blogging

Hmmm, this is my 5th post I think... that may be a record for me!

I was thinking about all the many reasons I have never successfully kept up with a blog, and I think I have the number one reason.  You know how social media critics are always talking about short attention spans and people wanting their information quick and in short segments?  Well that's totally me.  I have one completely random thought, crack myself up about it for like 27 seconds, then move onto "Oh, I have to pee."   For example: I'm driving around work today thinking about how I'd like to write a blog post tonight because I haven't in a few nights but I couldn't think of anything to write about.  I tried to think about something funny Violet was doing but then I remember she's scared of everything.  Then I remembered that I used to be scared of the Acid Monster.  Then I thought about how I used to think up some really dumb stuff to be afraid of when I was a kid and how that would make a hilarious blog post.  And so a blog post was born!  But all I could think about at the time was that ONE Acid Monster incident, and it seemed like SUCH a lame thing to write an ENTIRE post about, so I was like naaahhhhh fahgetaboutit.  That whole string of thoughts took exactly 27 seconds.  But then I decided tonight to sit down and read my previous entries and saw the thing about the Pooping Babies and remembered the Acid Monster thought-string from earlier and decided to just start writing and see where it would take me.

So to summarize again, basically it goes, 1. thinking about something to think about, 2. thought or memory triggered by something random, 3. quick giggle about short thought or memory, 4. admit defeat because the giggle was too quick, 5. write about it anyway, 6. become extremely wordy and elaborate waaayyyyy too much, get sidetracked about 40 times, then end up with a really long-winded blogel (blog novel!) that no one is going to read anyway.

I really like to write and story-tell.  I used to be good at it!  I remember all through school I wrote really great fictional stories and my teachers were all like "Kathryn will grow up to be a writer some day!  Excellent!", and my writing was always being read aloud to the class as an example of how to not suck, and this one time in high school I wrote some story about someone being dumber than a cat trying to bury his shit on a tin roof and the whole class was literally peeing their seats over it.  I don't know what happened though.  I still like to write, but I've just become so unintelligent it's sad.  I don't know proper grammar or syntax or any of that crap anymore.  And my vocabulary is just awful.  That's the worst thing - my vocabulary.  I like to be wordy but I just don't know any words!  Hence all the cussing and the word-making-upping.  It's tragic really.

Anyway, I don't even remember where the hell I was going with all this.  Oh!  I lack confidence in developing my brief thoughts into paragraphs.  Obviously it happens though, but it's just tough for me to initiate, and I have a feeling eventually I will stop the initiations AS USUAL and I'll have yet another dead blog.

Bibverbda.  That's the word I just made up for a dead blog.  Hopefully I won't be changing abozubgo to bibverbda anytime soon though!

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Stupid things I believed when I was a kid

Time to explain The Light Fish and The Pooping Babies!  And other dumb things that I was gullible enough or overimaginative enough to believe in when I was a kid.

1.  My last name was pronounced "Muddle-tin".  I used to be Kate Middleton (yes Wills and I are very happy together and the honeymoon was fantastic... I'm still hearing that hilarious joke from people almost 3 months after the date... and I still laugh and go along with it because I don't like to be mean, even though in my mind I'm strangling that person).  Well, in first grade I learned two things.  A) I learned that my name was not actually Katie, but KATHRYN, and it took me like all of first grade to grasp this concept and then learn how to spell my new name.  Seriously, it was just SO HARD for me (that's what she said), and I remember sitting there writing my name and having to say it out loud to make sure I got it right.  Then I felt like I had put such a huge effort into learning this new name that I started going by Kathryn instead of Katie... and when my teachers would talk about me to my mom she was like "Why the hell do I care about this Kathryn kid?" the first few times.  I dunno, apparently my mom had forgotten my real name too or something.  I don't know if I was a retarded kid or what, but this seems so crazy to me now.  How do you go like 6 years not knowing your name?  Anyway.  B) My last name is apparently pronounced Muddle-tin.  I swear to god my grandmother told me this on one of my weekend visits there.  I was insistant that she was WRONG, but no, she KEPT telling me, "It's Muddletin.  Ask your mother, your name is Kathryn Muddletin."  Now that I have my own youngin and can appreciate the humor of lying to children, this is totally hilarious to me.  But seriously Mommom, I went weeks or MONTHS believing this.  I remember telling all my friends, and asking my teacher if my last name was still spelled the same way.  This seriously blew my little first grade mind.   Mommom -1, Dumbass K-a-t-h-r-y-n Muddletin - 0

2.  I was adopted.  I think my brother and sister may have jokingly told me this a few times too many and I must have really internalized it, because I remember waking up one day and, without any recent prompting, thinking "I'm adopted.  And I'm going to go find my real family."  I packed up my Rainbow Bright shirt and some jean shorts into a bag, and got my Little Foot plush animal and headed for my battery operated corvette, and told my mom all about how I realized her and my dad had adopted me as a baby (and apparently forgotten my name) and that's why I didn't fit in with the rest of the family because I didn't like onions.  Yeah, a distaste for onions was my straw-breaker I guess.  So anyway, my mom told me she would help me go find my real family later if I ate dinner first or something... I forgot about it, but she never did deny or confirm my adoptive status.  I like onions now though, so we must be related.

3. There were fish floating around my room.  They were going to attack me.  Apparently this fantasy of mine was happening while I was still in a crib and in diapers!  Although I don't remember that far back, but I BELIEVE IT.  Because those fish were out to GET ME.  I remember laying in bed terrified (bonus Stupid Thing I Believed: if you lay completely still under your covers, nothing can get you.  NOTHING) because there were these giant 3 foot fish floating around IN my walls.  But they were made of beams of bright orange light, and I could see them THROUGH my walls.  And they were going to KILL me.  OMG!  I'm kinda freaking myself out about this again.  Anyhow, I remember "seeing" them one more time when I was in like middle school, and I think I figured out that it was those little out-of-the-corner-of-your-eye floatybob things that you see at night if you stare at a light - like a lamp or a tv or the hallway light coming under your door - too long, then look into the darkness of the room.  But my crazy person mind turned those floaters into killer fish.  I remember revealing this to my mother manymany years later, at which time she told me that I used to SCREAM in my crib and sometimes throw myself out of it, and I'd scream about fish when she went to me.  Violet and Leela are doomed I tell you.

4. I could teach babies how to poop.  Honestly, I don't even know how to explain this.  It's just so out there, even for me.  When I was a kid, I used to sit on the toilet until my legs went numb, talking to and teaching these invisible babies how to poop.  Why?  I have no. fucking. clue.  I wish I could remember their names, but I know there were lots of them, and they were fully formed babies, I'd say maybe 2-3 years old but fatter and in big cloth diapers, but TINY, like 6 inches tall.  And while I pooped, they sat on the bathroom floor in front of me on their teeny tiny 4 inch toilets, just taking lessons of how to poop.  I disciplined them.  I praised them.  I bribed them with trips outside of the bathroom if they were really good (none of them ever were THANK GOD because I would have been totally embarassed if I had to introduce them to anyone else).  I taught them other things too, like how to swim (picture me as a kid, sitting on the crapper, waving my arms and occasionally pausing to look down and point to the floor and give it instructions to stop holding its nose), and how to use a fork and knife to cut your own food.  Yup.  And as I'm revisiting this, now it's all so clear as to why Violet is scared to death to sit on the potty.  The Pooping Babies must have crawled up and hid inside my womb for all these years and they came out along with Violet and are now haunting her!  DOOMED.

5.  The Acid Monster was real.  I went a whole summer without stepping foot NEAR a pool because I was convinced there was this invisible acid monster that was going to make me disintegrate inside the pool and no one would ever know.  That vacation that year kinda sucked.

6. Jesus is real.  Haha!  Just kidding.  I don't think I ever really believed in Jesus.  (Seriously though, I like my god-fearing friends and family, and I don't think you guys are stupid at all.  But I do get a kick out of a Jeebus joke here and there.)

7. I write the songs that make the whole world sing.  I'm still convinced of this one actually.  You know that "I'm proud to be an A-mur-ican/Where at least I know I'm free" song?  I shit you not, I WROTE THAT.  The music and the lyrics.  ALL ME.  I remember playing it on my little keyboard and singing it to my Doodlebears and asking what they thought.  And then like 15 years later 9/11 happened and they started playing that redneck ass song all over the stupid radio and I was like WTF THEY STOLE MY SONG.  There was some other song I wrote, but of course I can't remember now because the government figured out a way back into my brain to re-erase my memory of it.  I also was responsible for the re-emergence of a few fads.  And Disney owes me big time for Hannah Montana.  Damnit.

8.  My stuffed animals have souls.  I'm pretty sure every kid believed this though.  But I was totally neurotic about giving all my toys and stuffed things equal face time, and I put them ALL in bed with me so that no one would feel left out.  And I still felt sad that some of them felt sad about having to sleep closer to my feet than my head :(

There's some other things, I'm sure.  Actually I think I might add to this list as I remember things so that I always have fresh material for screwing Violet and Leela up.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Bouffant Buffet

Buffet restaurants are disgusting.  I've caught the shittles from one particular buffet TWICE and yet I still subject myself to these places.

Tonight Joe and I went to Golden Corral... meh.  It was 530 pm and I had gotten up for the day at 3am and had only eaten two trail mix bars all day and I was so hungry I could eat my own face so I was not about to stand there and cook a meal.  WHY I would agree to (and even insist on after the idea was in my head!) a buffet I still don't know.  I mean, even McDonald's is higher up on the food chain. 

So we're eating, and I look over at Joe fingering something in his food, and he pulls out this 8 inch blondish hair.  Well I had picked that salad up for him, and I do have blondish areas in my hair, and I do lose hair all the time...

Then 10 minutes later we're still eating, and I feel something funny tickling my lips from inside my mouth.  I stopped chewing my mystery meat fried rice for a second to feel whatever was on my lip, then I felt something and gave a little tug, then I felt the (horrifyingly familiar) feeling of a hair sliding out from my throat.  It had pieces of chewed up food all connected to it.  It was lovely.  This one was very long and very dark and would not pass for coming from my head.  For a second after I pulled it out I kept chewing that mouthful of food as if nothing had happened, because I'm gross like that, haha.

Soooooo all night I've been trying to figure out why even after those hairs, and after watching a little boy take a spoon out of the gummy bear bowl to get it out of his way so he could see which color gummy bears he wanted to pull out with his bare hand instead, why do I still love me some all-you-can-eat buffets?  Denial!  I refuse to believe that that sneeze guard doesn't do its job, and that people wash their hands often, and that they sneeze into their elbows or shoulders and not their hands, and that parents don't let their grimy little kidlets go to the buffet by theirdamnselves.  Because how can you possibly argue a spoonful of 30 different entrees, sides and desserts?!  I can't!

Saturday, July 9, 2011


So Violet is terrified of bugs.  She went through this phase for a month or two where she was scared of the damn FLOOR of our house and sometimes out in public.  We were walking around Old Navy this one time and she starts screaming MOMMY! MOMMY!  LAY-EE BUG! because there was a tag on the floor or something and clothing tags totally look like bugs...  Anyway, so she basically has a seizure if a fly lands on the chair she's sitting on, and would probably die instantly if a bug actually came into contact with her.  Where does she get this from?

I mentioned in my first post that I don't get why people aren't more afraid of bugs.  I mean, bugs themselves aren't scary.  I once held a tarantula in my bare hand, and one of those giant palm-sized cockroaches (sick), and I wasn't really that freaked out.  What I'm more concerned about are those bugs that live in my house and move really fucking fast and disappear easily.  HOW am I supposed to know that bug didn't disappear into my pants if I can't see it anymore?  And what if it crawls into my crotch and lays eggs and I give birth to a bunch of little centipedes one day?  Or what if those weird dime-sized mutant ants at that cabin one time that were hanging out in the bathroom had crawled up in my butt while I was on the pot?!  OMFG.  THIS is why I can't handle the sight of bugs.  Because they fit in small holes and crevices and I happen to have lots of holes and crevices on my body.

Anyway, so back to Violet being scared of bugs.  I made the mistake of freaking out about a bug in front of her ONE time, and not even that big of a freak out, I think I just scooped her up real quick and was like "ohmuhgod bug ew" and ran to the other room.  A few months later she went through the "bugs = suicide" phase and I have been soooooo careful to never show her my bug fear, and I'm pretty positive I've been successful!  So again, where does she get this bug fear from?

Me still.  But not because I scream ANT in front of her.  The poor child inherited my overactive imagination, and this is how I know.  I'm at the sink today washing some dishes, and Violet starts screaming.  EEEEEE!  FWY!  A FWY!  EEEEEE AHHHHHHHHH!  I calmly tell her, without turning around, "it didn't even touch you Violet, it's ok, flies won't hurt you, you're ok," etc.  But then I start thinking.  What if it DID touch her and what if she's NOT ok?  No, that's crazy talk, flies can't hurt people!  But what if it's a GIANT fly?  Like a horsefly bit her?  Or what if... all of a sudden I couldn't breathe or move or anything, because I was so friggin scared there was a man bug behind me.  Like in that movie The Fly, remember how creepy that was?!  But this wasn't an ordinary Fly Man.  For some reason I actually thought to myself "What if I turn around and there's a damn RuPaul-sized bug standing up on its back two legs about to slit my throat?!?!"... yeah, like there's this giant roach walking around in a push up, with its penis tucked between its legs, tossin around heel daggers or something.  I have no idea why the combination of RuPaul and a bug scares me so much, but it took me a minute before I could finally force my head around, and I still winced at my big black scary refrigerator.

I wonder how Violet pictures bugs.  I think Swiper is the only "villain" she knows of, so maybe she sees bugs with bushy tails and eye masks trying to steal her "damn" crackers as she calls them.  Or, she's scared of chairs too... I can kinda see how she could confuse a bug for a tiny walking chair.  Hm.  Anyway, hopefully she's not haunted by The Light Fish and The Pooping Babies (I'll explain - another blog post, another day) for her entire childhood the way I was.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

I want to start blogging again.

I want to write down my random thoughts at the end of each day, and share embarassing stories about myself. Random thoughts include: is it racial profiling or are black people just better dancers?, why do I automatically compare everything that disgusts me to foods that I adore?, and SERIOUSLY, why aren't more people afraid of bugs crawling into their body holes?. Embarassing stories include the time I talked to my boss for like 5 minutes then as I was walking away realized that my [bra-covered, thankfully] boob was literally hanging out, the time I told my midwife that everything was "all good in the clitoral hood", The Garlic Incident, or how I locked myself out of the house 3 damn times this summer and it's only been summer for like a month. These are all opportunities that my blog missed out on because for some reason I just can't keep up a blog.

There's a couple things that stop me from blogging every time:
1. I can't decide on a name. Or if I do decide on a name, it's lame. I've been thinking on a name for a blog for like 5 months now, and do you fucking see what I settled with? Yeah, abozubgo - a word I made up when I was 17 fucking years old, that doesn't even have a meaning, you just use it in place of random abozubgos (see what I did there?!). The only other name I came up with that I even half liked was Roll Model, but then I decided a) that won't work since I'm losing weight finally, and b) it'd be a much better name for Tyra's next model competition show. Anyway, my mind just completely blanked. What was I talking about? Oh, blog name. So abozubgo it is for now, but hopefully it'll change, and maybe one day I'll stumble upon something I like permanently. OH! And about the blog url... eunuchhorn. Unicorns are my favorite animal. Eunuch horns could be another word for a penis, and penises make me laugh. And unicorn horns are pretty phallic anyway. (Side track: are those things on top of a unicorns head called a horn or a corn? Now that I'm looking at root words and prefixes and shit I have myself confused.) Anyway, I dunno. I was thinking about unicorns but I didn't just want my blog url to be "", soooo I spelled it a different way I guess. Whatever. No one is reading this still anyway.
Solution: I'm going to pretend I don't give a crap what the blog is named.

2. I tend to ramble and lose track of what the hell I was talking about (as demonstrated by point #1) and then just decide to delete all of the nonsense and then either my computer dies or I get distracted by something shiny or I just fall asleep.
Solution: I'm going to pretend I don't care if people think I'm stupid and I'll just post my long lists of stupid shit anyway.

3. I TRY to be funny. I'm told I'm funny on occasion (only when communicating by some form of text because in person I am soooo duuuummmmb for some reason) but it's 96% unintentional. I just type what I'm thinking and it happens to be funny. But for some reason when I'm writing my blog, it seems so much more permanent than if I'm texting someone or like writing a post on a messageboard.... as if people are going to go back and read my blog posts over and over... yeah right. So anyway, I get all self-conscious and TRY to be funny and end up flopping.
Solution: I'm not sure. I'm trying really hard not to edit myself right now and to not even use the backspace button or pause to think or anything, but as I'm typing I'm thinking about the last sentence I typed and whether or not I sounded like an idiot or if it was funny or what. Actually I guess the solution is to accept that most likely no one is going to read anything I ever write so it really doesn't matter. Zing!

4. I can't think of anything to write when I sit down to actually write. What's up with that? It's like, I can tell Violet the most magical bedtime story about an astronaut in space and a submarine falling in love but they can't be together because one is an Orioles fan and the other is a Yankees fan, NEVERMIND the thousands of miles or atmospheres between them (and also, how did they even meet?), but then they realize they both share the love of hotdogback riding and overcome adversity and live happily ever after. But if I sat down to write a blog about something that actually exists or a thought I actually had? Plllrrrbbbbbtttt.
Solution: Would it be lame to keep notes in my phone to remind me of things to write about in a blog? Or would that be taking myself too seriously? Hmmm, must explore this option.

5. I don't want people to actually read what I have to say. Not real life people at least. Not internet people either sometimes. But at the same time, I want everyone to read what I have to say because I'm a little bit of a narcissist and hey, MAYBE people will read my blog and their insides will swell up with adoration. But I'm also completely insecure and have a greater expectation that people will read my blog and just think "wtf."
Solution: Only let a few people read it.... for now?

Anyway, so I can't think of anything else to list and I'm bad with transitions, and I don't even have a next point to transition into anyway, so I'm going to make up a word. Oxdiesel. That's the future of the energy industry right there. (ok, I guess I kinda just put two words together rather than making up a word, but I don't see YOU making up any words, so bite me)

I just remembered something I wanted to say. I blogged about my pregnancy with Violet and it was pretty hilarious. You can read it on my myspace page, if you feel so inclined. Any entry about Growing a Blueberry is about Violet's time in my innards. (Side note: Do people use myspace at all anymore? I remember a time when I thought facebook was lame. Ha!) So I wanted to blog about my second pregnancy too. I started it but, surprise surprise, I never shared it with anyone because I thought it was lame. I also hated the name of it, and didn't make many entries into it, and all that other stuff I just listed as reasons for why I don't blog. But I went back and read it just now and I kinda like it! Now I wish I had shared it! But it's too late. So I'll share it now here, and I will also share this here abozubgo blog. Reluctantly.

Omg why am I still typing? Here's another made up word. Eesalkai. That's means goodbye.
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