Naked Barbie Chillin On Some Cookies?

[I’m laying on the floor photographing the above picture, when my dad walks in the room]

Dad:  [said like he is trying to piece together the mystery of life] Barbie. Naked. Laying on a pile of mom’s chocolate chip cookies. [laughs hysterically and then pauses for two minutes.] I don’t get it.

Well, sonofagun.  Maybe I don’t either.

But my mom makes some ridiculously large and delicious chocolate chip cookies, which are clearly bigger than a pretend, unrealistically proportioned person.  And she handed me 5 batches as she walked in, also carrying a blueberry pie and 10 bags of groceries.  Immediately following this, she grabbed a paper towel and some Ajax and got to work on my shower, again proving to me why remaining in the Midwest was the sensible choice.

So while the parents were over, I decided I’d get caught up on some laundry today. .

laundry

Huh.  Well what’s that crap? A crumpled dryer sheet? No, pffft, I don’t splurge on dryer sheets.  And plus, these came out of the washer.  A napkin, perhaps? Naw… Why would I have napkins – who’s coming over the Queen?  Bob Hope?  OH…. A Kleenex. It’s totally a Kleenex.  Must have left it in a pocket or something.  Blessed Respite!

However, that was a merely child’s play compared to what I would soon discover.

paper-towels

Wait… Wha? Okay, I’m no scientist, in fact, I didn’t even finish the 6 various colleges and trade schools that I started – but that IS WAY more stuff than could be produced by a Kleenex.  And now that I think about it, I’m also too cheap to buy Kleenex. And you know what Judgy McThinkYou’reBetterThanMe?  Once you have your own place, you will be too.  AND you’ll remember to turn off the lights when you leave the room, dangit.  So you just relax.

After I’d noticed that every single garment was coated in tiny pieces of white stuff, I knew there was something terribly awry.  There was so much of it. Finally, as I reached into the washer and grabbed the last pieces of clothing, I discovered Exhibit C:

i-hate-women1

You’ve. Got. To. Be. Kidding.

How the? What the?  Ugh.

*No Barbies were harmed or humiliated during this documentary.  This is because, contrary to popular belief, they enjoy not being dressed in ridiculous outfits.

Chances Are, I’m A Pervert

Today, while at a routine stop at the Goodwill, I put these three items on the counter.  They were exactly what I was looking for. We don’t have the time nor resources to get into the logistics of exactly why I needed this combination of items, but one could assume that I’m a third degree pervert who is planning on using exhibits A & B to lure a small child into my presence in order to lock them inside of exhibit C.

Based on the death glare I got from the Cashier, that’s definitely my plan.  [as if she’s one to judge]

But that’s not why we’re here. Wait, why are we here?  No, really, I was hoping you’d have the answer cus….

Listen.  I know, I know. I don’t write a blog for, like, decades and all the sudden here I am with the one-two punch.  But see, that’s how it works around here.  This isn’t a “real” blog, this is more of an update.  Housekeeping, if you will.  I have been a bit MIA around the blogosphere lately, and it’s not because you’re getting on my every last nerve.  Although…

As some of you may know, I lost my job last fall. No, there’s no blog that I can refer you to so that you can read about this seemingly dreadful but actually wonderful experience; however, that is definitely something I’ll add to my list.  Cus Holy Crapballs, that was messed up.  If you’ve lost your job recently, and there’s a good chance that you have – especially if you live in my dumpster of a state  – you’ll understand what I’m about to say.

Losing your job can mean all sorts of things: a chance to reinvent yourself, an opportunity to do something you really love, a new start, or a spiraling depression that leaves you wallowing in self pity. For me, it meant all of the above.  This brings me to my point, and yes, I have one this time.  After I ate every morsel of hidden [but apparently not very well] holiday candy, watched every unfortunate chick flick that I owned – twice, and spent the better half of two months unshowered and locked away in darkness, I slowly managed to yank myself out impending doom and decided to pursue writing.  It is, after all, the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do – even though I tried almost every other option.  That process has been the most tragically-unfortunate-and-frightening-experience-turned-wonderful-surprise of my life.  And I’m determined to make it work.  Because well, if you have even the smallest chance of being able to do what you love – you should.  Enough with the fear.  Enough with the procrastination.  Enough with the negativity.  With that being said, go make yourself happy already – even though it might mean you’re broke for awhile about a year.  ***Also, in the midst of this pursuit, combined with an excess of time on my hands, I’ve also discovered another passion I’m quite siked about, but one thing at a time here.

So my point is.. crapHold on.

I had to check my notes.  My point is…. that I’ve been busy lately working on “business stuff.”   And that would be a major understatement.  So, remember how I used to have that freelance writing website that was really super duper ghetto? Psssh.  Guess who ain’t ghetto no mo? That was just a temporary site [ come ON, a little credit please? ] and I’ve been slaving away on a dashing new web presence, among about fifty other pressing matters.

You can check it out on my freelance writing website, wordsbybrit.com.