I haven’t been writing.
This time I am not going to blame writer’s block. I am not even going to blame my blog for taking over and bashing the hell out of me. Actually, I don’t even feel guilty for not writing at this point…
This time, the writing is being vetoed by a much powerful force. I have purchased a new toy. I spent hours in bed with it this weekend to the point of exhaustion. There will certainly be a significant amount of embarrassment upon my next encounter with my neighbors, for they surely overheard my shrieks of excitement and enjoyment. Even Jack subtly exited the room on several occasions as if even he was embarrassed for me. I practically needed a “do not disturb” sign.
Whoa. I know you all have your minds on peen today (thanks Clown man), but what kind of gal do you take me for? I am talking about my new HD Webcam and accompanying movie editing software. I have many ideas swarming in my mind right now that it is hard for me to wrangle them all and put them into manageable cubbyholes in my mind. So for now, you can just watch me play with my new toy for about fifteen seconds. After all, that’s about how long it takes to get anyone off, right?
Please note: I am no longer just a pixel of your imagination. There will be much more to come once I master this thing.
Some friends just stick. Sometimes those friends actually live outside of the computer screen. ”Blasphemy!”. I can hear you thinking it already, but it is true. This post is testament to that. When I first met Z, I was convinced that he was going to set our classroom on fire. Marketing 101. College. His head phones and blaring Tech N9ne were essential to his wardrobe and my uneasiness. Little did I know, he wasn’t actually a murderer but one of my future best friends.
Some friendships are cosmic. He paid me in beer to say that. Part of the deal was also for me to give him some of my spotlight. So without further ado, meet my friend “Z”…
Well hello there! Becky (editor’s note: fuck you) has asked me to step in and fill in some space due to her recent episode of writer’s block. I offered her a couple hits of acid and the leprechauns that do my typing for me, but she refused. I’m not sure why she denied my offer though. Those four creepy little dudes have kept me employed the last three years and even earned me a 2.31 GPA throughout college. Fancy, I know.
Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Z. Well at least that’s what she named me on here a few times anyway. I’ve been called worse. I am originally from Smackover, Arkansas. Dead serious. Google it. It sucks, I know. But before my recent relocation to the great shit hole of Baton Rouge, Louisiana, the two of us shared roughly 572,890 pitchers of beer together.
I shared with her my knowledge of billiards and was even the third wheel through the entirety of a yearish long relationship of hers. If it wasn’t for her, I would probably be sober. Yes, my life would suck if not for this lovely blonde! (editor’s note again: redhead now dumbass).
Up until recently, I didn’t even know her blog existed. For some reason I had to stalk her on Facebook just to learn this hidden writing talent of hers. But now I understand why we have always texted and only ever spoken on the phone once in our multi-year relationship. And that was more awkward than some random non-blogger dude making an appearance on some chick’s highly popular blog.
When she first asked me to write a guest post, I will admit I giggled with a slight evilness. I thought, “How witty can I be?” and “Oh the people I can piss off with my political views!”. Then I realized she would just delete my post and ban me from the internet, which would cause a riot with the leprechauns. Not worth the risk.
So instead, I must confess to the masses how blessed each of you are to sit right where your rear is currently placed and enjoy reading the very thoughts and ideas that I have been graced with throughout my friendship with Miss Long Johns herself since some time in 2009. I check for new posts quite frequently now, due to the lack of our shared time together. It’s all I can get. She won’t come visit me anymore. Thanks to y’all.
I think I have babbled enough, and her head is probably slightly swollen after reading these kind words. It’s been a pleasure occupying roughly 3-27 minutes of your time. Who knows, maybe one day she will allow me to post something witty and political. Maybe not political but at least witty.
P.S. Her cats are evil. Between Ace, Jack, and my cat allergy, I am surprised I never woke up cross-eyed after drunkenly passing out on her couch all of those nights. Then again, it could have been those three-month old leftovers I always took off of her refrigerator’s hands. Who knows…
Stay tuned tomorrow for the recap of the LaLaBec New Year’s Eve bash. Because you know you don’t remember. Please leave a nice comment for Z while you wait. My writer’s block thanks him and you.
- Lee Corso is a leprechaun (sbnation.com)
- Networking : Friends (bbroseproductions.wordpress.com)
- Single People Are Not the Enemy (singlewhitechristian.wordpress.com)
[I finally captured Jack (front right), Ace (distant middle), and myself (part of me) all in one oddly angled and slightly blurry photo. Man, why am I even trying to become a writer when I am so obviously a photography prodigy.]
My mind has been trying to wrap itself around a certain obstacle I will eventually have to overcome. I will assume that you have caught on to the fact that I plan to move oodles of miles away when the time is right. I will also proudly say I believe to have determined the general region for my relocation. I’ll elaborate on that a little later. I can’t tell you specifics right now. You already know too much. What I can tell you, is that the region is well over a day’s drive from the
end of the world tip of the boot.
My point? Well, I want you to take a good look at the animals in that picture up there. One of them is a seasoned and serial car pooper/vomiter/demon noise maker. I refuse to take Ace half a mile down the road let alone half way across the country. So, I did a little research to find out just how I would pull off the biggest kitty voyage ever attempted and what tools I would need to get me through it. Let me just put on my cat whispering gear.
What I assumed the solution would be: Fork over a ridiculous amount of money for some extra strength cat roofies and try to explain to hotel staff and onlookers at pit stops why I am waltzing around with two limp balls of fur like it is some sort of fashion statement, all while my cats remain in a coma for two days straight.
What I learned after a good old fashion Google session: Do not roofie your cat(s). Instead, I will follow the plan of action below. Read the rest of this entry
This is a dress. This is not just any dress. This is a dress covered in a print of cats. I came across this gem yesterday while shopping with a great friend of mine. She actually spotted it, and naturally we had to model it and take pictures for giggles. Not to offend, but who would actually buy this let alone wear it? Aside from the lovely aesthetics of this piece, the dress style alone could make even Gisele Bundchen look frumpy. Although I am often teased by my friends and family (pretty relentlessly) for mothering two cats of my own, this garment takes the title “crazy cat lady” to another level. Gee, how hypocritical. Anyway, I knew if there is one environment where cats are revered, it is the internet. I knew I had to share. Then things got out of hand when I composed this:
Here is the lesson ladies and gentlemen. When all else fails, you have nothing interesting or relevant to write about, and you want to post something anyway, there is a simple solution. Post about cats. The things I do for internet. You’re welcome internet.
If you dare
- I am a crazy cat lady and proud of it. (knittinggoddesswithacat.wordpress.com)
- Random Cats (laaventuraproject.com)
- Crazy cat ladies don’t have boyfriends. (wildgeesethatfly.com) – Revelation about why I am still single in three.. two..
- Wednesday Cat Whimsy ~ Take Five (seconds of giggles!) (tamerietherton.com)