All this week I am going to be preparing myself to hop into a vehicle for a two-day adventure towards my parents cabin where I am sure amazingly stupid things are going to happen. The last time we made this two day trip the dog ended up Dorito dog farting all over the place and when we stopped at our hotel for the night he spastically crapped all over the bathroom and the smell was so foul and disgusting we nearly threw up as we used all the towels in the bathroom room to clean it up and then threw them into the bathtub in a crappy attempt to hide the evidence. Despite locking the door we had to smell that smell all night long and it nearly destroyed our relationship and killed all the babies in the world by giving them cancer and in the morning we checked out as fast as humanly possible and now I’m probably sure that we aren’t allowed in a Best Western ever again because the maid that found that murder scene in the bathroom? She will most likely stab us if she ever finds us.
So this blog week is going to be pretty slow because The Pilot is working until super late all week and that leaves me to pack up all our crap and try not to forget anything and attempt to conquer my secret drinking habit because when he comes home at night and finds out that I did nothing? I’m pretty sure that’s grounds for him to break up with me and if he broke up with me I’d have to throw the dog off the cliff to show him that he never should have dumped me and we both know the dog would have picked to go with him and my fragile ego just couldn’t handle that after being dumped for not packing for a road trip.
All next week I do have on guest blog lined up because 99.9% of my readers are giant douchebags and only one person got back to me with an actual post and that person is someone everyone should have sex with because it’s just that good. The guest post. Not the sex. I’ve never had sex with her so I wouldn’t know. But I’m sure it would be good. She just looks like she is good at it.
Perhaps during the whole next week I am gone, I might just update my blog with what is going on because that Womb Mate of mine? Yeah, she’s going to be there. That means I am going to have a massive amount of stuff to blog about once the trip is over. But the thing about updating a blog while on vacation, it only works if you have access to the Internet. And my parents? Yeah, ever since they retired to live in a cabin on the lake they’ve decided they are going to live like homeless people and have no real access to the rest of the world. I’m not sure how I’m going to manage to do that without stabbing someone in the eye for some type of updated current events or just for my own amusement because there is only so many times a girl can play monopoly without killing someone. Sorry Grandma, you’re the oldest so you are probably going to be the one stabbed.
I also plan on making a lot of videos so you can look forward to that as well. If you don’t want to look forward to it…well I don’t look forward to giving you that intervention you so desperately need for your coke habit you ungrateful turdmouth. Yeah, that’s right. No Intervention for you. Whore.
P.S: I didn’t really mean to call you a whore but you sort of kinda are. And that intervention? Yeah, it’s just going to be a giant party you aren’t invited too. Whore.
P.P.S: And that intervention that is just a giant party that you aren't invited to? Yeah, it's going to have George Michael performing all of his music and eventually he will end up knee deep in a pile of coke while simultaneously floating in a river of beer while fighting of a giant owl dressed in a red sequin wrestling outfit while Careless Whisper blasted on the sound system and lightening gold struck all the party goers. The night will end in tears and the next day will begin with the intervention we throw George Michael and once again just ignore you and not invite you to the giant party it will turn into.
P.P.S: And that intervention that is just a giant party that you aren't invited to? Yeah, it's going to have George Michael performing all of his music and eventually he will end up knee deep in a pile of coke while simultaneously floating in a river of beer while fighting of a giant owl dressed in a red sequin wrestling outfit while Careless Whisper blasted on the sound system and lightening gold struck all the party goers. The night will end in tears and the next day will begin with the intervention we throw George Michael and once again just ignore you and not invite you to the giant party it will turn into.
I cannot IMAGINE smelling dog poop all night. I would have slept outside, and I HATE camping.
ReplyDeleteHow come George Michael always gets invited to all the cool parties and I never do?!
ReplyDelete@Brandy: Because you aren't George Michael.
ReplyDeleteBetter than I could have imagined!
ReplyDeleteFrom this point forward, all random references I think of that I don't know what to do with will be directed to you!