Tweet I have nothing to blog about. Because my life is no longer funny. My life is merely pathetic. Mostly because it took me a week to figure out the gross odor wafting through the house wasn't Big V's shoes after all, but rather the oversized freezer we keep in the basement with all the meat in it. We lost a cow. So we spent the day cleaning up stinky room temperature meat dripping gallons of blood. I was so busy cursing I didn't realize the awesomeness of the situation; my sister did.
"Did you take all the meat out of the butcher paper and then wrap it up in a large carpet roll bound with duct tape and haul it to the end of the road?"
And then one of my favorite older lady person who is really spry and someone I would love to be like when I'm almost 80 (because she's kind of nutty) came into my place of employment and was all I haven't seen you since Thanksgiving and -- oh my goodness! I didn't know you were expecting! And then she placed her hand on my stomach and rubbed it. Yes. Rubbed it.
And I looked at her and said I'm not pregnant; I'm just fat. And she continued rubbing my belly while she leaned in close to my ear and whispered oh, honey, you can tell me! And then she winked.
And then I went back to my desk and fought back tears while eating a candy bar. Emotional eater much? And I was so busy licking the chocolate out of the corner of my mouth that I didn't notice the awesomeness of the situation: my sister did.
"Did you lean in real close and say, "Yes.... but try to keep it quiet because the father is [insert obnoxious politician's name here]?"
Again: opportunity lost.
Something is terribly wrong with me. I'm losing my snark. But don't worry, I've got a doctor's appointment scheduled to look into this. Meanwhile, I'm thinking of asking my sister to guest blog on this site to carry it along until I'm back on my feet.
Here's the latest text my sister sent me:
Did you call me 2x in a row to tell me about Pizza Ranch?
Yes. Yes, I did. And then I'll talk to you about guest blogging.