Thanks for seein' about a girl, friend. here's where I'm writing my own history—for you, for me and anyone else who needs to laugh to keep from cryin' every once in awhile.

Crap.

Crap. Almost an entire month into the new year and I haven't written anything here. Here comes the random. If I were a rapper ... well that's just a dumb beginning because there ain't enough ifs in the world. I've got lame lyrics lined up though, and they're all inspired by the most awesomest job in the wizzorld. Almost daily I think of things that I'd like to add to my "professional" signature:

  • Just call me a ruler, 'cause I'm gon' setcha straight!
  • Love, me, your office mammy, cleanin' up all yo' busted ass whammies.
  • Here I sit cussin' sumpin' fierce in my cubicle/and I'm wonderin' what the f*&6 is I'mma do witchu? (if you say it like you think Ice Cube would say it, it could work)
  • Send me this bullmess again and I will shank you.

Turned 30. Highlights?

Had to work. Was asked probably no fewer than 30 times how it felt to be 30. Rolled eyes 30 times. Good ocular exercise.

Ankles now pop approximately 30 times upon wake up each morning.

Flexibility, as evidenced by inept yoga abilities, has apparently decreased by - you guessed it! - 30 percent.

The End.

Put It In the Won't Ads

How Christmas Sounds To Me