Awhile back I wrote a blog post that compared the nightly dinner ritual to herpes. Not the shingles kind or chicken pox, but the blistery genital stuff. I suppose some might think I was being a little dramatic about dinner, but I don’t really care what those people think. I care what you think, those of you who read my stuff and YOU liked it.
I am a writer. I write stuff chock full of metaphors and hyperbole and sometimes I buy Pop-tarts for my kids. Words, blah, pffth, yackity, jabber, yammer, words, *&#^$%. Sorry, that was for the people who get dramatic about kids eating an occasional Pop-tart. If you didn’t understand that last sentence, you must be new here to Moms who drink and swear. That was my way of addressing the concerns of readers who would tell me that letting my kid have Pop-tart is as bad as pouring Liquid Plumber down her throat. I see you talking but….words, blather, wrinkle, clinkety, pour, crunch, fffffffffffffffffffffthpop, glug, glug, I was busy pouring Lucky Charms into a bowl for my kids to eat for dinner (while watching television OF COURSE) and opening a bottle of wine so that I could really focus on them and read your feedback and parenting advice. It’s fantastic. omg - THANK YOU. Back to dinner and the herp….
I stand by my metaphor. And I will always believe that making dinner is a pain in the ass. That’s why I tentatively titled my book, “F*&k You Dinner, Make Yourself.” I knew that once my lit agent (not to be confused with clit agent, as I am not in porn but I do know that a good porn star probably has a VERY good clit agent, just as I have a VERY good lit agent), sent off the book proposal, there would very likely be some publishers who weren’t too keen on the title. S’ok. I knew they would still consider the book. And they did and it sold!
So to celebrate the fact that although I stumbled into this career as a writer and might just hold the record for worst spelling, grammar and worst overall transitions between paragraphs seen since the written word got wrote (see? terrible grammar, and what is with this little off topic thing I put here in parentheses? a good editor would toss this shit. am i right? and capitalize some stuff in here as well. HOT MESS), I threw all caution to the wind and bought four things:
Pop-tarts (Much like Chevy Chase in "European Vacation" I just can't get left. Or right. I can't get this photo upright and I am in a hurry so tilt your head to the left like a cute puppy and see the Holy Grail of Pop tart)
My kids love them and usually we don’t buy expensive stuff like this. It felt good to buy them a treat. I wish there were gluten free tarts because those bitches would be IN MY BELLAY.
I also bought the dogs some rawhide. I don’t know if it was made in America. Words, blah, woof, blah, poof, POW! I know that rawhide made for dogs in other countries is bad. Please tell me that I might as well have made them gargle with lead paint. MEH - I sold a BOOK! I CAN TAKE A BEATING and quite frankly, my dogs don’t give a shit where the stuff comes from. Even they like to throw all caution to the wind on a Wednesday and suck the intestines out of some dead bird they find on a walk or the back yard or drag into the house or………you know what I mean, right? THEY LICK THEIR ASSES AND EACH OTHER’S ASSES. The irregular Asian rawhide seems harmless compared to what they get off their junk, but what do I know? I’m a writer, not a veterinarian.
I threw the rawhide in with the Pop-tarts. NICE! Once time I planked at Target, when I was going through a planking phase with my kiddos, but found out that my form was incorrect and that my hands should have been at my sides. Still, I think you can see my butt better and it looks very good here so I don't care and somehow I got this photo upright. WIN!
You know, I’m surprised Target doesn’t have an in-house vet. They have everything else there, but I was pretty floaty and what not yesterday so maybe they DO and I just missed it. Did I mention that my book got bought? Well, it did. So as I perused around the store, it hit me that I really needed to celebrate four years of hard work and so I continued to spend money like a Kardashian. I bought this:
TRAVOLTA. I love him more than Scientologists love Xenu. He's a talented, sexy hunk of burning love. Gay? Straight? I care NOT. He can dance and sing and he was the BOY IN THE PLASTIC BUBBLE and VINNY BARBARINO and was (is and will always be) the father to a special needs child (rest in peace Jett) so he's aces in my book. AND I CAN'T GET THIS PIC TO TURN EITHER. Tilt left please.
It’s no secret that I love the celeb smut for a good escape from reality and even though my reality was good yesterday, I was committed to my own little naughty party. A gal doesn’t sell a book every day, but I was acting like I was a gal who could and did. I was going to go BIG or go home so I looked around for something else to buy.
I decided on the biggest fountain drink available; Coke, regular with tons of ice. I saw a show once on germs and dirty places and did you know that those ice bins have been proven to be full of nasty ole bacteria? Can you believe THAT? Not only was I breaking my no pop rule and getting a beverage containing enough sugar and caffeine to jack up my daughter’s entire second grade class, but there was also a good chance that I was going to end up with a parasite in my digestive tract. I decided that if it was a worm, I’d name it Zola.
Of course I hoped if I did catch a Zola from the filthy ice, that she wouldn't be too big. I mean I knew I was going to make a little money from the sale of my book, did I mention that I sold my book because I did, but I didn’t really want another mouth to feed, even if the mouth was a tiny parasite worm mouth. Maybe I wasn’t as much like the Kardashians as I had previously thought.
Whatever, I just wanted to tell you that MOMS WHO DRINK AND SWEAR THE BOOK is now a reality. Not like a reality SHOW, but a real thing that you will be able to hold in your hands in early spring of 2013. AND as much as I love MY title, the reality is that it might not really go over with the people in the sales and marketing department and since I’m pretty stoked and committed to getting this bookie to you all, I’m superflex about the title. I’m thinking about a contest for the best name suggestion. It will be the first Moms who drink and swear contest so I’ll have to whore myself out to some cool company to get a ultimate cool motherfucking prize and that will require me to try a little harder to channel my inner Kardashian. And I would do that for you guys. I would and I will.
So that’s my news. In case you were wondering. Thanks to all of you who believed in me and kept reading and encouraging me to spell better and re-check my grammar and not getting your panties in a bunch over my f-bombs. Thanks for seeing our club for what it really is. You are handsome women and I shall reward you with many humps and drinks if I end up touring this bitch. If you need a clit agent, I can’t help you, however, I might very well have the best lit agent in the universe: Jenny Bent. There isn’t enough cheese in the world to express my feelings of gratitude for that sassy little minx.
P.S. All brands and stores shit in this blog were just random. I was not compensated or at the receiving end of any free stuff for mentioning the stuff I mentioned, but I’d like very much for Pop-tarts to consider my gluten free suggestions THANKYOUVERYMUCH.