Okay, I’m out of here. Taking that sabbatical, but I’ll be back. Bwahaha!
The knock on the door rustled me out of a nap gone wrong. Imagine my surprise in my state of grog when I found this creature at the door. I prayed it was a nightmare from which I’d awake, but no such luck. This vision was no leftover from the REM state.
When this … thing showed up, my first thought was: Great! Another loser who expects a matchmaking miracle. My wrong. This was a different unwelcome guest commonly known as a process server.
She handed me this:
I’m sued for malpractice.
This is the night that matchmaking went wrong.
(Sung to the tune of “O Holy Night.”)
Apparently they created a new tort, Matchmaking Malpractice, just for me. The complaint cites allegations of fraud, negligence, infliction of emotional distress, and other ridiculous ingratitude for my services.
Should I fight it? Hide out and take that sabbatical?
Dear Readers, does anyone have a job more thankless?
Don’t expect much from this post. If it stinks, so much the better. See, it’s August and I don’t feel like working. Everyone’s on vacation. Santa Claus busts his butt during December and hibernates the rest of the year, sunning in Paradise Island, eating Conch and sipping Bahama Mamas.
When I complained, Santa consoled me by saying he’d originally wanted the Cupid position, even applied for the job, but in the end, I got it because I looked sexier in the Cupid suit. Can’t argue with that. Still, look at this slob. I’d trade sexy any day for his life.
He says he needs the peaceful atmosphere in the Bahamas because he spends his time brainstorming about the next Christmas and ways to bless the children of the world. It’s really a sacrifice to be away from the Mrs., the reindeer, even the little elves, but the calm and quiet helps his creativity to flourish. I don’t know. I have my suspicions he’s not that good with time management.
And don’t get me started on the Easter bunny. At least Santa works his ass off once he gets in gear, but what does the Easter Bunny actually do? Lazy hare if you ask me. I think he’s a myth. No, I mean a real myth.
And how about that Tooth Fairy? Not just a slacker, but a con artist. She has the balls to charm parents into doing her work, without compensation, while she sits back and files her nails. Don’t think I haven’t reported her to corporate. As if they’d do anything. As I write, she’s probably flitting her wings on the lap of someone on top. Or occasionally on bottom. I wouldn’t know.
Hammock Santa from www.myfunnyworld.net
Drunk Santa from www.visualjokes.com/
Fairy Graffiti from www.publicdomain.net
WordPress and I had our first fight. Before I hash it out, let me be clear that this doesn’t change our status. I’m in love with WordPress and even the best relationships occasionally run into a rough patch. It’s just that the behavior was so unexpected.
When I had hit the Publish button of my last post, Difference Between Sexes, a message flashed back that said something like, “Dope! Your post contained only 17 words!” Now I was tired and having a rough week so at first, I squinted thinking I hadn’t read it right. As I refocused, the word “Dope” continued to heckle me. I know it’s the internet, but I’d really thought WordPress was above name-calling.
I thought, How dare you call me a dope, WP! I get that you’re into communicative bloggers, but it’s not as if I’m the silent type who takes up space with barely a grunt. I’ve had a rough week, I’m not feeling great, so give me some slack. Plus, I inserted a picture in my post, which we all know is worth a thousand words and, yes, I just used a cliche, but it’s a good one because it brings my word count up to 1,017. Even if it doesn’t, one of the infamous 17 words, “aren’t,” is a contraction. If I’d said “are not” and tipped the scale at 18 words, would you have been happier? At what point does the word count satisfy and please you? I mean, really, what’s next — a message to pick up my unused widgets because they clutter the sidebar?
Once I cooled down, I considered that just as I had had a rough week and my resources were low, words and otherwise, perhaps WordPress was also having a less-than-stellar time. We all say things under pressure. When you’re in a relationship, you try to take these things into consideration. You make an effort to see where your partner is coming from.
Once I got past my initial indignation, I chose to forgive WordPress. That’s what you do when you’re in love. I considered that WordPress was allowed to have its moment, a fall from grace, entitled to be less than perfect just like me and everyone else. Besides, its awesome qualities so overshadow any moment of weakness or insanity that we all succumb to from time to time.
Before I knew it, I began to fantasize about WordPress’s beauty. Its themes are like no other and yet its superior intellect boasts capabilities that outshine the rest. If that weren’t enough, its so helpful in clearly explaining those things I don’t understand. I’d never want to be partnered with any other blog site. WordPress can beat up any of them without question. But it won’t because it’s nice like that.
I have only this to say to WordPress: Because I adore you, let’s forgive and move on. Together, of course. I expressed that in less than 17 words and yet it’s all that’s needed — succinct with a sincere heart.
I have a great idea that would really mend things between us. Let’s start a new page. And while we’re at it, how about some makeup sex?
Sparring Photo from photobucket.com
Apologies for not being able to locate the source for the second most-awesome photo.
Men and women aren’t so different.
A heart is just an ass upside down.
Photo from myfunnyworld.net
My high school reunion is coming up so I decided to put together some photos for the reunion album. This first one was taken on prom night. As you can see, I was a hottie.
This next one was taken after many years and even more helpings of Psyche’s cooking. Go ahead and laugh, but the extra pounds come packed with a lot of personal character and accumulated wisdom.
I think my classmates will recognize me. I’m still hot. Don’t you agree?
The hot, sexy middle-aged devil found here.